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darkbluekies · 6 hours ago

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GOLDEN TRIAL PT2: A slippery slope

Part 1

Yandere!mafia x yandere!female!mafia x female!yandere x yandere!king x yandere!doctor x male!detective!reader

Summary: after your adventure on Normandie, you've been dealing with the consequences of the horror. Unfortunately, you start to realize that you might not be the person you think you are. It doesn't help when a certain doctor finds you again.

Warnings: lingering head trauma, identity crisis, kidnapping, mocking, dog collar (lol), syringes/drugs, forced tattooing,

Word count: 9.3k

You get off the subway in silence and push your way through the crowd, walk up the stairs and out onto the sidewalk. Blinking, you try to fix your blurry vision. Sometimes, even though it’s been three months since you were hit on the head with a glass bottle, you’re reminded of the events on board the liner Normandie. You had been running around over two days before going to the hospital about the blow to your head. It seems to have been too late. What could have been brushed off with some bandage and disinfection had now given you minor problems you are dealing with daily. Not enough to hurt or bother, but enough for your agency to hesitate sending you out on missions.

These last months have been weird, to say the least. Not only have you been forced to take a break from your job, you have been lonely. So very lonely. You haven’t done anything and the only time you’ve went outside the door is when you go to your doctor’s appointments and when buying food. After the ominous note you got, you have been careful about going outside, scared that you will meet them again. How long will your life be forced to be like this? Maybe you should leave New York and start over somewhere new, where you can live a normal life. No more detective work, no more hiding, no more … fear. Perhaps a farm on the west coast?

You open the door to the private hospital. It’s located in a house no other than any of the other houses on the street. The first time you were here, you thought that you had been given the wrong address and waked into someone’s private house. Quietly you walk into the reception. The young woman behind the desk has always been friendly. Her sparkly blue eyes and chestnut hair remind you of a squirrel.

“Good morning”, the receptionist smiles at you. “Name?”

“Y/N L/N”, you say. “I’m here for a revisit at eleven am.”

“Ah, yes, I remember you. Your doctor is currently on sick leave, so there will be another doctor taking care of you today. Is that okay?”

“Yeah, it’s fine.”

“Take a seat and the doctor will see you in a moment.”

“Okay, thank you.”

You sit down in one of the wooden chairs. The clock on the wall ticks like a doomsday clock. You can’t help but shiver.

Your eyes wander in the small room. A mother with her young son, a father with his daughter, an old couple. And you, alone. There’s paintings on the walls, as if to distract one from the horror they might have to partake in when they step through one of the three doors on the right hand side of the room.

You’re not sure why you’re here. You have been going to this doctor for three months and all he’s done is to confirm that you do, indeed, have head trauma. As if you couldn’t figure that part out for yourself. Sometimes you wonder if you still have shards of glass stuck in your head.

“The doctor will see you now, Mister Y/N”, the receptionist suddenly says. “It’s the middle door.”

You stand up and walk over to the doors on the other side of the room, opening the middle one. Behind the desk, a man sits. He looks up at you and you can feel your heart stop, and so does the clock. For a second, you wonder if it’s one of the side effects from the glass bottle, but you can still hear your heart pound loudly in your chest. He’s trying to hide a smile, trying so hard to make it look like you’ve never met before. What do you do? Do you close the door behind you and get into his office or do you make a scene and get away? Your hand still holds onto the door handle behind you.

“Close the door, if you don’t mind”, Doctor Kry says and raises his eyebrows testingly when you flinch back. “Don’t even think about it. Close the door.”

With a frustrated sigh, you close it, but remain by the wall.

“I figure that you’re not going to sit down”, Doctor Kry says and rises from his chair.

“Don’t come closer”, you say quickly. “I will make a scene.”

“I’m fine with that. Easier for me to get you into a lunatic asylum.”

You freeze.

“Your usual doctor is on sick leave, so I’m here today”, Doctor Kry continues as if the prior conversation never happened. “I hope that is fine with you.”

“I am not comfortable with having you anywhere near me”, you spit. “How did you even know that I went here?”

Doctor Kry leans back against his desk with his hands in his pockets. “I can’t take the credit for that, unfortunately. It was my dear friend miss Carter who managed to find you.”

“Hedwig?”

“Yeah. Who knew that a young heiress with a phenomenally large contact net and money would be able to find someone like you. Unbelievable.”

You don’t give in to his joke.

“Sit down, Y/N”, Doctor Kry says and pulls out the chair for you, “or I will get you dragged out of here in a straightjacket.”

Involuntarily you sit down in his chair. Doctor Kry walks around you and you follow him in the corner of your eye.

“I read your report”, Doctor Kry says. “Trauma to the head? What happened?”

“You fucking know”, you spit.

“Oh, right.”

You want to slap that smirk off of his face. He continues to smile as he puts on his gloves.

“Let’s get it under control”, Doctor Kry says and takes your head in his hands.

You flinch, silently praying that he won’t twist your neck and break it.

“Don’t touch my neck”, you say.

“How else am I going to treat you?” Doctor Kry scoffs.

You start to wonder if he’s messing with you when he’s just touching around. He’s too close to your neck, he could snap it.

“Can you hurry up?” The words just slip out, before you have the time to shut your mouth.

To your horror, he chuckles. You freeze in your seat.

“Why did you go so stiff all of a sudden?” Doctor Kry asks smugly, grabbing your shoulders. “Are you scared that I’m going to hurt you, Golden Boy?”

The familiar pet name sends a wave of nausea through your body. You feel how every hair on your body stands on edge. Terrified to meet his blue eyes, you concentrate on a point on the wall where it looks like a small bug has landed.

“You threatened me with a tranquilizer”, you breathe out. “You could have helped me with my head that night — you’re a doctor — but you didn’t. You could have prevented me from coming here.”

“I could have”, Doctor Kry says. “But why would I? Remember what I told you? I’ve never said that I was nice.”

You stand up, shaking off his hands.

“We’re done here”, you decide and start to move towards the door.

“Alright, I suppose so”, Doctor Kry says.

You grab the door handle with your shaking hand and open it forcefully.

“I guess that I will see you soon, Y/N”, you hear his voice say behind you. “Can’t let a patient go before they’re healed, now can I?”

You ignore him. Stumbling on trembling legs, you pass the patients in the waiting room, struggle past the receptionist and out of the house. You throw up in the nearest bush.

For a few moments, the world has gone silent again. You can hear your heart thumping in your ear, feel every nerve in your body beat alongside it and you have to sit down on a nearby bench to collect your spinning head. That eerie feeling you had on board the Normandie returns … as if you’re being watched. You look around in a dizzy, blurry haze. Everyone looked like each other. Anyone could be them. If Kry had found you, what says that the others aren’t around the corner?

Going home feels wrong. What if they follow you and see where you live? Where do you go? What do you do?

Your numb legs take you to a nearby telephone booth. With shaking fingers you call your boss and tell him about the incident.

“You told me that I’d be safe!” you shout. “I knew that it would end like this! I knew that this would happen!”

“Y/N-”

“If I die, it’s your fucking fault, okay? You sent me out on that ship alone and now I have to deal with the consequences of your choices!”

You throw the telephone back in its hold and scream in frustration. The sound doesn’t escape the little telephone booth, which is probably for the best. You don't want to go to that mental asylum Doctor Kry threatened with.

You stand still for a few seconds, breathing heavily. You feel like crying.

The coming days can't be described as anything less than torture. You look over your shoulder for every step you take, flinch at every sound. Just as paranoid as on board the ship. Those four days will haunt you for the rest of your life … and the ones who caused it will hunt you until you're in their claws.

To calm your nerves, you've had to drink strong whiskey. Nothing else seems to work. Should you leave the country? You shiver. The thought of stepping aboard another ship again makes your skin crawl. You take another sip of the whiskey. It doesn't burn anymore.

The world started to blend together in blurry waves ages ago. It's starting to shift into black. Finally you're going to fall asleep and not have to worry about anything in this world. You’ll be safe in dreamland.

A small sound reaches your drowsy ears, but you’re too far off to react in time, almost as if you’re drugged. The door opens slowly and a dark figure enters. Everything is fuzzy. The person says something, but you can’t hear it. A cloudy wall separates you from you and whoever has broken into your apartment. A cloud which quickly turns everything black.

When you wake up again, you feel every muscle in your body pulsating, hurting and a nauseating feeling roars in your body. You’re lying on a couch in what looks like a warehouse … or a basement.

“He’s awake!” a familiar voice gasps.

Hedwig jumps up from a chair right by your head and waves for someone to come over. You hear the sound of people move closer. You try to pull yourself up on your elbows.

“You son of a bitch, Y/N”, you hear Silas say, a clear smirk in his taunting voice. “You thought that you could get away. How naive!”

“I want to put it on”, Jerry says and takes something from Edmund’s hands.

“Fuck sake, Jerry!” he hisses and pulls his hand quickly away. “I've told you to trim those nails!”

Jerry doesn't bother to answer. She walks over to you and slips something around your neck. You're too dizzy to realize what it is before it is too late. A collar and a leash. Like a dog. Just like they had promised.

“What an obedient dog”, she snickers. “Letting me put it on without protests.”

She tugs on the leash, causing your head to rip forward. The air in your throat gets abruptly cut off. Their laughter feels your aching head.

“Golden boy deserves a treat”, Edmund smirks and holds a piece of chocolate to your lips.

You turn your head away.

“Don't touch me!” you cough.

“A little too late for that”, Doctor Kry says and shrugs. “How do you think we got you here?”

You try to get up from the couch. Nausea roars through your body. Jerry pulls the leash towards her. You stumble before falling down on your knees, catching yourself with your hands on the hard cement.

“Just face it”, she says cockily. “You're too hungover to overpower us, and once you're sober enough you will already be broken. Don't bother to try anything. Hm, maybe he should stay on his knees, or what do you all think?”

“Stop fucking around”, Edmund sighs in annoyance and grabs the leash out of her hands, pulling harshly. “Stand up.”

It's on shaking legs that you manage to get on your feet. You're the same height as the king, but feel unbelievably inferior. Is it the collar around your neck, the degrading look in his eyes or the fact that you know what they're capable of that makes you terrified? You can't meet their eyes.

“This is humiliating, can you stop?” you hear Hedwig asks.

She's standing on the far end of their little line, a few steps away from them, with her arms hugging herself. Disgust covers her face.

“I feel nauseous just watching it”, she mutters.

“Don't worry, Hedwig, we're just playing with him”, Silas smiles and ruffles your hair with his hand. “We're not hurting him.”

“Hedwig shouldn't take him”, Edmund says. “I don't trust him.”

“What do you want?” you ask, trying your best not to sound like a pathetic little puppy.

“What did you do with the list of names?” Silas asks. “The one behind the painting.”

“And where is my fucking painting?” Edmund asks.

“The painting, I don't know”, you say and meet Silas black eyes. “Your list was hidden on board the ship, but my contacts have found it. They're on the way to arrest everyone on your list.”

“Oh, are they now?” he asks deadly calmly. “And I suppose that you are still their shining Golden Boy thanks to that?”

You lower your eyes.

“Or did someone get put on an indefinite hiatus because they're a security risk?” Silas continues, moving closer, tugging ever so carefully on the leash. “Are you sure that you're their favorite? You never seem to have much protection, despite the threat against you. Don't worry, Golden Boy, we will make sure nothing ever reaches you. We will make sure you stay hidden.”

“If they don't want to give us our note, we won't give them their darling dearest”, Jerry says, shrugging.

You feel a lump in your stomach. Your contacts will never give over the note … and in that case they'll never give you. Wonderful.

A tug on the leash brings you back to reality.

“It's healing quite nicely, don't you think?” Jerry asks, tilting her head to get a better view of the back of your neck.

“It's still fresh, it's nowhere near healing”, Doctor Kry says with his monotone voice, arms crossed over his chest.

Their eyes turn to your neck and you gulp, realizing that part of the pain isn't coming from your head, but from the back of your neck, easily mistaken as the brainstem. You lift your hand and try to touch whatever is hurting you. Hedwig picks up a pocket mirror from her pocket and hand it to you. You’re in disbelief when you see black marks on your skin, drawn in a strange symbol you have never seen before. The skin is swollen and tender to the touch.

“What is this?” you question in pure fear.

“We told you that you would be tattooed, didn’t we?” Silas smiles. “That tattoo is the symbol of my group. It’s somewhat of a trademark. Everyone who sees you will know that you belong to me.”

“I hate that you are the only one getting associated”, Edmund mutters.

“Well, I am the only one with a symbol, aren’t I?”

“You are so self centered.” Edmund puts his hand on Hedwig’s shoulder. “As if we haven’t got one?”

“‘Self centered’, you absolute hypocrite”, Jerry scoffs.

“I did not consent to this!” you shout angrily. “How could you just tattoo me when I wasn’t even conscious?!”

“It was pretty easy since you were, as you said, ‘not even conscious’”, Silas smiles teasingly.

“Enough of this foolishness”, Doctor Kry cuts in. “We have things to do. The train leaves tomorrow morning and we still have things to do.”

Train?

“Give the poor boy some food and make sure he sleeps”, Silas says. “It’ll be a long day for him tomorrow.”

They start to move towards the stairs of the basement, all but Hedwig who have went upstairs to get you a plate and Edmund — the man who’s holding the leash.

“You don’t have to be here”, she says. “I can take care of him myself.”

“I don’t trust him”, Edmund mutters angrily and wraps more of the leash around his hand. “He knocked Jerry over when she was guarding him and — fuck it — she is tougher than you. I am not letting him anywhere near you alone.”

“Can you at least let go of the leash?” Hedwig asks.

Edmund lets it go with great dramatic effect. You sit down on the couch with a thumping heartbeat. Hedwig sits down beside you, turning towards you. Edmund stands behind her, towering over the young woman like a giant, glaring at you. It reminds you of a lioness behind their cub.

“Are you hungry?” Hedwig asks and looks down at the plate. “I’ve watched my maid cook ever since I was a little child but I don’t have much experience with it myself so I apologize if it isn’t the best.”

“I’m nauseous.”

“Then some sleep will do you good.”

“What train did he talk about? I’m not going on some train!”

“You are”, Edmund says, “and you’re doing it tomorrow morning. In a box.”

You look at him, baffled. “What?”

He looks at you with mockery in his icy blue eyes. “Nobody told you? You’re getting a first class ticket. I heard that they make those wooden boxes are quite comfortable nowadays.”

“I’m not going in some fucking box!”

You stand up in a swift, aggressive motion. Not only will they bring you onto a train going to who-knows-where, but they’re also stuffing you in a trunk? No shame.

“Where are you taking me?”

“My father has a house on the coast, by the beach”, Hedwig replies. “You’ll like it. Hey, If you’re not going to eat, then will you please go to sleep?”

“I will not be able to sleep. If I have to drink myself to black out, do you really think I will be able to fall asleep here?”

Maybe you shouldn’t have said that. You don’t want to see a sympathetic look from her. It’s their fault, after all. They took everything from you … and now she’s looking at you as if she’s pitying you.

You refuse to sleep, refuse to even sit on the couch. It doesn't take long before the door to the basement stairs open and the sound of footsteps fill the air. You look up, seeing Doctor Kry walk down. In his hand, he holds a transparent syringe.

“I suppose that you are familiar with this”, he says and looks at the needle. “I thought that it was finally time for you to get acquainted with it.”

“Don't come close”, you warn him.

He's quicker than you've anticipated. Before you know it, you're tackled onto the hard floor. It knocks the air out of your lungs. Doctor Kry is stronger than you could have imagined. He doesn't look muscular underneath his clothes, and he probably isn't as muscular as Silas, but he is strong with firm grips. You try your best to fight against the needle coming closer to your neck.

“Goodnight, Golden Boy”, Doctor Kry says and finally punctures your neck with the sharp end of the needle.

He gets off of you immediately and you try to get up and run. You manage to get a few steps forward before your legs give up and you fall down on your knees. You start to lose your hearing, and your sight start to darken. Doctor Kry grabs your shoulders and pull you over to the couch. The last thing you see before it all turns back is his blue eyes staring down at you.

You’re not sure if you have opened your eyes. You try to shut them tight, then open them again. It’s just as dark. Your knees are pressed to your chin, arms folded over your chest. Panic rises in your body, suddenly feeling every single cell of your body and what it touches. Painfully aware that you’re squashed together in a wooden box.

“Let me out!” you shout and try to bang on the walls, floor and ceiling.

A harsh slap on the side of the box makes you flinch.

“Shut the fuck up”, Silas voice hisses through gritted teeth, shocking you for being too close. “Do not make a single sound, whatever you do.”

You breathe heavily and crawl together. For these past months, you’ve felt scared … but never like this. The only thing you can compare it to is that morning when you ran around the Normandie with the painting tucked under your arm. Your heart has never beaten that quickly before. And here you are now, in a wooden box with a dog collar around your throat and a tattoo in the back of your neck. The leash is gone.

They won’t kill you before they have gotten the list, right?

You hear men's voices and suddenly the box jerks. Your head slams against the side and you groan, quickly biting your lip to avoid making sound. Silas will probably punch you if you disobey his command. You form fists.

Whoever is handling the box does not care for it. It seems to go back and forth, up and down, with you hitting your head with every jerking motion.

Finally, finally, it stops. The moving, the sound, everything stops. You breathe out, listening. Where are you? Can you get out of the box? You try to push the top of the box, but it won’t budge. Neither will the walls. With a frustrated yell, you kick and then, in defeat, sink down again.

Silence keeps you company for what feels like ages. Suddenly, the ground under you start to shake and move. You gasp. The train!

It takes a while before the top of the box is moved. Bright light hits your eyes and you squint.

“Good morning”, Silas smiles and pulls you up from the box.

Your muscles are stiff and aching, popping when you try to move. Your legs threaten to give out.

“Ouch …”, you moan.

“Did you have a nice time?” Jerry smiles and claps your back.

You look around, blurry eyes being met by a cargo hold. Silas and Jerry are the only ones here.

“What are you doing?” you ask, stressed.

“What do you mean?” Jerry wonders.

“What do you want? Why am I out?”

“Did you think that you were going to spend the entire trip in the box?” Silas asks.

“Edmund said-”

“And you believe a single word that stuck up manchild says?” Jerry scoffs and grabs your arm. “Come now.”

They take you out of the cargo hold and into a thin corridor. Running along your left are cabins and to your right are windows. Silas opens a door and directs you inside the cabin. It’s a suite, and a gorgeous one a that. A king sized bed, couches, big windows, drapes and your own bathroom. Hedwig and Edmund sits on the couch doctor Kry is leaning against the window. Behind him, America swooshes past.

“Here he is”, Jerry says.

“What’s going on?” you stutter. “What do you want?”

“We are not going to let you be alone in cargo hold”, Silas says. “We are not monsters.”

I have other opinions.

“We’ve decided that you are going to be by our sides so that we can keep an eye on you”, Hedwig says and smiles. “If you are in the cargo hold you could die.”

“You’re not going to wear the leash because that will cause people to be suspicious”, Doctor Kry says. “Yes, we are not the only ones on this train.”

“You will not talk to any of them”, Jerry says.

“You will stay here in my cabin”, Silas says. “My second in command will be in Jerry’s cabin, so don’t think that you can do anything towards me. He’ll be just on the other side of the wall.”

Why does he have to be here too?

Everyone leaves the suite but Silas. You sink down on the bed with your head in your hands.

“Why do you do this?” you groan.

Silas sits down beside you. “You did this to yourself”, he says, voice weirdly calm. “You put your nose into the wrong business, knowing that it could put your life in danger.”

“It was my job.”

Was.

“I still don’t understand why they sent you on that ship without backup … or any kind of protection at all besides that pitiful gun. Almost like they wanted you to get caught.” Silas furrows his dark brows and looks at you, unreadable hint in his black eyes. “Are you even sure if they liked you at all?”

This has to be some kind of scare-tactic. Don’t fall for it.

“Of course they did”, you mumble. “I had a high position, a good salary … they liked me. They did.”

“Are you saying that to reassure me or you?”

Silas stands up and breathes out.

“Let’s go eat lunch, I’m starving”, he says. “You must be hungry too, I heard from Hedwig that you didn’t eat dinner last night. Come now.”

Silas walks out of the room, holding the door open out to the corridor. His words ring in your mind. Who are you trying to reassure?

“I’m not waiting all day”, Silas calls out. “You’re not getting lunch if you stay in there.”

You hurry to stand up and follow him out to the corridor, having to pass him on the way. The thin corridor is big enough for one of you. He walks closely behind you, peering over your shoulder. You’re led into a restaurant car with tables of four, each having seats instead of tables. The carriage is divided in two with a with a glass wall with open space where a door normally sits. Silas chooses one of these seats.

“Sit down”, he says. “Now. By the window.”

You give him a questionable look before sitting down in the seat closest to the window. Silas sits down beside you, blocking your escape to the middle aisle. His second in command is already sitting by the table in the seat in front of you. Silas holds three menus laying on the set table in front of you, giving you one.

“Choose what you want”, he says. “I have money.”

“I don’t doubt that”, you mumble. “With your dirty businesses you must make a lot of money?”

Silas scoffs, but there’s a small smile tugging on his lips. “More than you can imagine, Golden Boy.”

You start to look through the menu for things you like. You are, indeed, starving and head for a grilled salmon while Silas chooses a medium rare steak. When a servant is taking your orders, you look out the big window at the blurry obstacles whooshing by. Where are they taking you? You’re not leaving much, but you can’t bring yourself to start over. New York is not for you, not anymore, but you don’t want them to force you to leave your home. What will they do to you? You can’t give them the painting, you don’t know where it is anymore, and you don’t have the list of criminal names. You’re not sure that you will be able to be switched with it. You don’t have anything to offer them, but yourself … but why would they want you?

“Pretty quiet today, huh?” Silas says. “You usually quite quick-witted.”

You pull your eyes away from the window and look at him. It’s almost comical, how a secret agent is having lunch with a mafia leader and his second in command. You have done it before, but under much different circumstances.

“I don't have much to say”, you answer shortly.

Everything in your body is hurting, which isn’t weird since you’ve spent the night crammed into a wooden box. Your broken head is not a help.

Silas converses with his second in command — a man you haven’t heard talk more than necessary.

The food is served by a servant in a spotless tuxedo and slicked back hair. You thank him. It'd be so easy to let the words slip out of your mouth. A simple ‘help me’. The words are soft and rounded, it wouldn't be hard to pronounce them, but the fact that Silas and his second in command are sitting right here makes it impossible. The words are so simple. But as soon as he arrives, he disappears.

“I've heard that the food on board is tasty, it better be”, Silas jokes and his second in command chuckles quietly.

He has gotten beef with grilled asparagus. You pick up your knife and fork and start to eat in silence. Silas is right, it’s delicious. Better than any of the food you have aten these last few months. It makes you guilty for enjoying it.

“I have some rules, Golden Boy”, Silas says from beside you.

You look at him. You are not a Golden Boy. He said that himself. Silas meets your eyes.

“If you disobey us”, Silas starts, “by either trying to talk to someone, or come up with some stupid idea to get off the train, I will handcuff you to me, got that?”

Imagining being handcuffed to him, forced to join his every step, not have a single second to yourself is enough to make you shiver.

“Yeah”, you reply shortly. “I understand.”

You let your eyes wander through the restaurant car, at the other passengers sitting and enjoying their meals. An older man is reading the newspaper while enjoying a bowl of soup, a mother and daughter pair are eating cheeses while chatting. How many on this train belong to Silas? He wouldn’t travel with only one man.

“I’m thinking about getting another car”, Silas smiles at his second in command and shoots a fork full of steak to his lips. “Any tips of a model?”

“One of those Ford models”, he replies. “It was good enough for Bonnie and Clyde.”

The news of the infamous couple’s death broke out in May last year. Some colleagues had been working on that case, from what you remember. For years.

“I’m not Bonnie and Clyde”, Silas says and smiles. “But I’m a bit jealous of them. Imagine having a partner in crime like that. I mean, more than just a brother in arms, a love partner. Or what do you say, Golden Boy?”

You look up from your plate. Your vision has started to blur again.

“Don’t you want a love partner, hm?” Silas asks, a teasing smile playing on his lips. “Someone to back you up when needed?”

“I don’t want to answer personal questions.”

He exchanges a look with his second in command before smiling into his plate. “You’re shy, I see. Didn’t know that you were so cute.”

You ignore him.

When lunch is done, Silas decides that it’s time for you to get back to the cabin. You get up, from your seat and scootch out into the middle aisle. You’re not sure if it is the moving of the carriage or your balance that causes you to stumble. Silas catches you by the arm.

“That wine you had with lunch didn’t make you drunk, did it?” he asks.

“No”, you reply and gulp. “It’s my head.”

“I see.”

You’re sure that it isn’t meant for you, but you can see how Silas gives his second in command a murderous look. Doctor Kry had told you that it had been Jerry and Silas’s second in command who had hit you with that glass bottle that night.

“You should go rest, Y/N”, he says and places his hand on your back to guide you.

He leads you back to your suite. The second in command closes the door behind him. You sit down on the couch, but Silas pulls you up again.

“What do you think that you are doing?” he asks. “The bed is over there.”

“I’m not sharing a bed with you”, you mumble.

“You are. Stop being childish and go to sleep.”

You’re pushed towards the bed. He’s quickly after you to pull the neatly fixed covers before you can change your mind. The mattress is softer than anything you’ve ever rested your back upon.

“Sleep”, Silas orders. “I will get you for dinner.”

He asks his second in command to keep an eye on you.

The gentle rocking of the train both soothes you to sleep and wakes you softly. You sit up and yawn. The second in command moves his eyes from the window. You can’t help but wonder if he ever does anything for pleasure or if he can turn off his emotions and needs whenever he wants.

You reach for a glass of water on the bedside table and halt. After everything they’ve done, you wouldn’t be surprised if the water is contaminated.

“It’s not dinner time”, the man says. “Back to sleep.”

“I’m not tired anymore.”

“Lay down.”

You sigh and lay down again, listen to the gentle rocking of the train against the rail. Last time you spent a night in a cabin with them was when you were tied on the floor. You should never have taken that mission. Your mind involuntarily drift to what Silas had said and feel how your heart squeezes in pain. It can’t be.

Suddenly, the door opens.

“Time for dinner”, Silas says. “Get up, you need to eat.”

You groan and pull yourself up from the bed. The second in command follows closely to the restaurant cart. One table can only fit four passengers. They have to separate three and three, and then you’ll have to choose whichever combination is the least bad.

Hedwig, Edmund and Doctor Kry … or Silas, Jerry and the second in command. You sit down besides Hedwig. Edmund is quick to have her change seats with you, so that you’re by the window and she’s blocking the exit out to the middle aisle. The girl smiles at you and takes your hand.

“You look much better without that inhumane leash”, she says.

“I think he looks better with it”, Edmund mutters and inspect his silver knife.

She ignores him. “What do you want to eat, sweetheart?”

You shrug, telling her that she can choose for you. You don’t say anything throughout dinner, even though Hedwig tries her best to spark a conversation with you. She talks about the scenery swooshing past outside the window, the beautiful interior, how much she has missed you and how happy she is to have you back. You drown it all out to the point of wondering if her voice is all just a hallucination.

You’re barely active during dinner, only being able to think about your — former — job. Heart feeling unbelievably heavy.

“I have to leave”, you whisper to Hedwig. “I have to be alone.”

“Are you okay?” Hedwig asks worriedly and watches how you stand up.

“I need to go.”

“I’ll come with you.”

She excuses the both of you from the table. You can feel the others eyes linger on you, burn right through you. You’re sure that Edmund wants to say something, but he keeps his mouth shut for once. Hedwig takes your arm and leads you back to the cabin carriage.

“I don’t understand why they’re so afraid of me being alone with you”, Hedwig giggles and opens the door to Silas’s suite. “You wouldn’t hurt me.”

At this point you’re not sure what you would and wouldn’t do.

“Do you want to sleep?” Hedwig asks and walks over to the bed. “I can tuck you in.”

You lay down in bed and Hedwig makes sure that none of your body parts escapes the covers. She looks pleased with herself and lets her hand caress your cheek. Her hazel eyes look down at you with immense love and for the moment that is the only thing you can believe. That kind of look can’t be mistaken.

“Are you tired?” she asks softly, continuing to caress your cheek.

You nod, despite not feeling the slightest bit tired. Exhausted, but not tired.

“I will let you sleep”, she says and kisses your forehead.

You close your eyes, hoping that she will think that you’re asleep and leave the room. You need to be alone, but Hedwig is making it impossible. As long as she knows that you’re awake, she will cling onto you like a leech. She’s like a dog, a puppy.

But she doesn’t leave. You can feel her sit on the side of the bed, and without opening your eyes, you know that she is staring at you with that same look of extreme love. As if you are the most important thing in the world. Her sun, her solar system.

Eventually, she leaves. You wait a few seconds before opening your eyes and letting out a sigh. Lying down makes it hard to breathe. You try sitting up, but the pressure over your chest remains. You pull at your tie to open your airways, but neither that or buttoning up the first buttons on your shirt help. Your fingers claw at the window lock, but it remains in place. God, how badly you need air. You hurry over to the door and open it, exiting out to the corridor. They can get you, you don’t care. You need air and you need it now.

You walk through the claustrophobic corridor in the opposite direction of the dining hall. You reach a door with a window. The rails run away from the train, towards the horizon. You rip the door open and find yourself on a balcony. Fresh air roams around you and you grab onto the oval railing, breathing in deeply until your lungs can’t take anymore, welcoming the pleasurable feeling of light headiness. You sink down on the floor with your back towards the train’s wall, watching the surroundings disappear further away. The sun is setting in the horizon, like in a painting.

The thoughts return. Was everything a lie? Were you nothing more than a pawn? Why were you put on that mission? Did they know that you would be taken? Broken? Damaged? They didn’t bother give you any security or backup, and when you weren’t killed or taken, they use the trauma they caused to put you on hiatus and made you look at fault. You have worked for them since you left school, given them your everything. Did they want to get rid of you? Were you worth nothing more? Did they ever care about you?

Suddenly you’re aware of the tears running down your cheeks.

“There you are”, a voice sighs.

You flinch and look over your shoulder. Jerry is standing in the doorframe, holding her hands on either side. Out of all the people who could find you, why did it have to be just Jerry?

“Everyone is looking for you”, Jerry says.

“Didn’t mean to”, you mumble.

“You better have a good explanation.”

She sits down on the other side of the door, in arms reach of you. The door closes behind her, leaving the two of you on the balcony platform. It’s first now that she seems to notice that you’re crying.

“Oh, what’s wrong?” she asks in a sarcastic tone, clearly mocking you. “Feeling homesick?”

“No”, you sigh and look down at your hands. “Just leave me alone.”

“Can’t do, princess. You are not allowed to be alone, you know that very well. But sure, I can leave. I can tell the other that you have attempted to escape.”

Your hand shoots forward to stop her from leaving. “No, don’t say that!”

“Then tell me. Hurry up, princess, I don’t got all night!”

You sigh and rest your head back against the wall. She’s doing it on purpose, you think, riling you up to the breaking point so that she has something to punish you for.

“Jerry, stop”, you plead and hold your head in your hands. “I’m asking you nicely. Don’t do that.”

“In what position do you think you are to speak to me like that? Do I need to go get the leash to remind you who you are? Hm? Is that what you want, Golden Boy?”

The name breaks something in you. You feel so stupid. Like an absolute fool!

“Don’t call me that!” you shout. “I never was a fucking ‘Golden Boy’! They just used me! And I just let them do it! Like the idiot I am!”

Your head pounds worse than ever. You’re afraid that it is going to rip out of your skull. You can feel how Jerry moves closer.

“They never fucking cared about me”, you hiss. “No one does!”

“Now, who told you that?” Jerry sighs.

“It’s obvious! Just look at how they’re treating me! They wanted to get rid of me, that’s why they sent me on that ship, wasn’t it …?”

Jerry sighs heavily and runs her hand through her black hair. “Well, fuck … I don’t know what the fuck to say.”

“Be quiet, then.”

You don’t want to hear her ‘I told you so’ mantra. You’ve understood how much of an idiot you are, you don’t need her to remind you. She removes your hands and forces you to look at her.

“It does not fucking matter what they thought of you, okay?” she says. “I get that they tricked you but you’re never going back there, so drop them. They’re not worthy of your attention. Just look at what a mess you become when you think of them! And I don’t want to hear that shit again, about no one caring about you. We have looked for you day and night since that last night on the ship!”

“That’s different. You know that. You won’t get the list or the painting. If they wanted me gone, they won’t trade me for it. I’m useless to you.”

She sighs frustratedly and runs her hand through her black hair again.

“Fuck, I am not made for this”, she mutters and looks around for help, but the only thing nearby are the passing landscape. “Listen, Y/N, we could have done things a whole lot differently. We didn’t actually need you, alright? Not for business. Hell, we don’t even want the same things! Me and Silas are the only ones wanting the list. Edmund wants his painting. I don’t even know what the doctor and Hedwig want, but do you know the only reason why the five of us stay together? Because of you, dumbass.”

She grabs your head and holds it to her chest, letting you cry.

“The term ‘Golden Boy’ isn’t just because of your job, it’s more than that. Don’t take it the wrong way. Now stop talking like that, it is getting on my nerves. Pity yourself to someone else.”

Silence. You listen to the rattling sound, the wind and Jerry's irregular breathing.

“What did I do wrong?” you ask quietly, emotionlessly. “Why did they do that to me?”

“I don’t know, Y/N”, Jerry answers softly. “Some people are horrible. There is a difference between people who's openly bad, and those that pretend to be good but are rotting on the inside. I can’t stand those people. If you’re going to be a bad person, at least stand for it.”

“I feel like a fool.”

“You are a fool, but it isn’t your fault. You did what you had been told, like everyone else.”

“I wish that I knew why they decided to let me go … I mean, that way I could have prevented it … or fixed it.”

“Stop thinking about it. I told you that you’ll never deal with those people again. You’re with us now.”

You sigh. Listening to Jerry’s heart beat makes you want to laugh at how hard it is beating when she has acted like she doesn’t have one.

“Get up”, she says after a while. “We can’t sit here the entire night. It’s starting to get cold.”

You drag yourself up on your feet. Jerry takes your hand and leads you back inside. Warmth hugs you the second you reenter the thin corridor. She takes you back to Silas’s cabin where you find him arguing with his second in command. You catch something along the lines of ‘you hit him so hard he’s lost his mind’ and don’t have to think twice to know who he is talking about. A new punch in the chest. Does everyone view you that way? As a loser who can’t take care of himself after what happened? As a dog?

“Where have you been?” Silas asks angrily. “Wasn’t I very clear what would happen if you tried to leave?”

“I didn’t fucking try to leave!” you burst out, unable to do anything else beside matching his energy. “How could I when the train is moving at two hundred kilometers per hour?!”

“Yeah? What were you doing then?”

How dense is he?

“I tried to get one second to myself to try to think! My life is falling apart and no one is caring! Everyone is just mocking me!” Tears blur your vision. “Why is no one treating me like an actual human being?! No one respects me!”

Your knees give out. The carpeted floor does nothing when you fall. A few seconds pass where you’re left to sob in silence before a pair of arms wrap around you. They’re too muscular to be Jerry’s and the second in command would never touch you. It has to be Silas.

“Get up, Y/N”, Silas says. “You need to sleep. We’ll talk about this tomorrow.”

He tells Jerry to get the doctor and she disappears out of the room. Doctor Kry comes in two minutes later. In his hands he holds an identical syringe to the one he injected you with before you got onto the train. Silas holds you down as the sharp needle pricks your arm. You can feel the foreign — yet painfully familiar — substance enters your bloodstream. Damn them, you think before the darkness swallows you, damn all of them.

You wake up with him sitting by the round table. He’s already dressed. You wonder how long that syringe makes you sleep.

“Good morning”, Silas says.

“Hi”, you mumble as memories from yesterday wash over you, like an ice cold shower.

“I thought that you’ll stay here for breakfast. I’ve already ordered room service.”

Your eyes lay upon the silver tray with coffee, toast and waffles on the table, when you sit up.

“Jerry filled me in about what you talked about”, Silas says. “I don’t want more of that, got it? You don’t get to run around causing havoc like that. You need to tell us instead of getting a melt down. Surprise, we might actually help you.”

You scoff and roll your head against the headboard. “You don't want to help. You just want to hurt me.”

Silas sighs.

“Is that why I have tattooed my symbol on you?” he asks. “To hurt you?”

You don’t answer. How should you know?

“It never crossed your mind that I tattooed that on you so that you wouldn’t leave?” Silas asks. “Maybe because I want you here?”

“It doesn’t excuse what you have done.”

“Okay, maybe not, but ask yourself something, Y/N: where would you go if not here?”

You try to avoid his dark eyes. They burn right through you, confirming everything you have been thinking. You have nowhere to go, nowhere to stay. Nowhere where you are safe, nowhere where you feel like home. Not anymore. The only thing that kept you in New York was the pride in your job and now, if you go back, the only thing that is associated with that city is shame and hurt. With Silas tattoo on your neck, no one will want to have anything to do with you, for fear of him.

Silas leaves you be. He doesn’t ask you questions, doesn’t try to get you on better thoughts or distract you. He lets you sit by the table with him, lets you feel your feelings. Lets you try to sort out the fog in your head.

“How long do we have until we reach Hedwig’s house?” you ask after a while. “I’m getting tired of people.”

“Two days”, Silas answers. “You’ll like it. It’s far away from everyone and everything. You’ll be able to go somewhere quiet, where you can rest for once.”

The thought of resting makes you almost tear up. You can’t recall the last time you actually had a moment of peace.

“I don’t know what you want, I don’t have anything more to give you”, you mumble. “I don’t have the painting, or the list of names, or any contacts. You can’t trade me for the list, and it’s too late now. They’ve already seen the names.”

“We don’t care about the list anymore”, Silas says. “When are you going to realize that?”

“I don’t know. I can’t seem to … think.”

Silas grabs your neck and pushes your head onto his shoulder. You let him. And there it rests until you’re feeling better.

You decide to get out of the cabin before it’s going to swallow you whole. You make your way down the carriages until you get to the lounge. People sit chit-chatting in their seats, drinking tea. You wonder how many of them belong to Silas, how many eyes he has on board. You do your best not to stare at any of them. Instead, you walk towards an empty table and sit down by the window, staring out towards the horizon. You’ve never been so … lost before. And yet, you feel better — just a tad bit. One day at a time. Things will be fine. Hopefully.

“Good afternoon”, you hear a voice.

You look up to see Edmund carrying a deck of cards.

“ Have you finished sulking now?” he asks.

You don’t answer. Not even these kinds of stupid questions deserve stupid answers.

“If you have, why don’t we play a game of cards?” Edmund asks and sits down in front of you.

“Sure”, you sigh. “What do you want to play?”

“What can you play?”

“A little poker, I suppose.”

“Good. Let’s play.”

Edmund starts to sort the cards. He shuffles them skillfully.

“What do we play about?” he asks. “What do i get if I win?”

“What do i get if I win?” you conquer.

A spark ignites in Edmund’s eyes and for once, it gives him a human touch. He leans forward, over the table, and smirks.

“What do you want, Golden Boy?” he asks.

You think about it. What do you want?

“I don’t know”, you reply and when he rolls his eyes, you add: “I actually don’t know. A bit more freedom, maybe.”

“Oh, as in?” Edmund asks.

“Be able to walk around freely without anyone going insane, like yesterday. I can’t run anywhere on here, now can I? Just being able to go wherever I want on the train whenever I want would be a comfort.”

“Alright, I can work with that. And if I win?”

“What do you want?”

Edmund leans back in his seat and looks out the window, thinking.

“You need to call me ‘your majesty’ or ‘your royal highness’ from now on”, he says, looking pleased.

Any traces of humbleness is gone.

“Haven’t I been humiliated enough?” slips out of you before you have the time to stop yourself.

Edmund smiles boyishly. “Nope. Not nearly enough.”

There’s a small tug at your heart, and your first instinct is to feel offended … but you can’t help but feel relieved that, while the others are trying to keep you from breaking down, Edmund is still the same.

You smile slightly.

“Alright, let’s start”, you say.

He’s a skillful player with sharp eyes. You wonder who he has trained with.

“Oh, you’re an idiot, Y/N.”

Doctor Kry stands by the table, watching the table amusedly with his arms crossed over his chest. Edmund grins up at him.

“Aren’t I smart?” he asks and nods at you. “This dumbass has to call me by my title — as he should have from the start — from now on.”

“The game isn’t over yet”, you remind him.

“Just throw the towel in and die a hero. That way you’ll have some dignity left.”

“No.”

Edmund shrugs. “Alright.”

You’re not sure how, but you manage to beat him. Doctor Kry laughs behind his hand. Edmund glares at him.

“Beginner's luck”, he insists.

“Good job, your majesty, now you've given him free roam over the entire train”, the doctor says.

“Don't get so fucking happy, doc, I can still have you executed”, Edmund warns him with dark eyes. “I don't care if Silas has you under his protection.”

Doctor Kry doesn’t seem affected. “It’s just a day.”

“This motherfucker did quite much in a day last time.”

“I’d like to see our friend Axel Ainsworth trying to do his stunts here.”

You rise from your chair and bid farewell to the two men, happy to show that you are allowed to walk away. Your last day on board won’t be too bad, you reckon.

You take the time to sort out your thoughts and think. Sitting in the lounge, looking out the window with a glass of whiskey, listening to the sounds of the train moving and the other guests chitchatting. Your head starts to make sense, for the first time in months. Your heart beats in your chest. You hate them, hate what they did to you. How they played you. How they used you for bait.

“Can I sit down?”

You’re pulled out of your thoughts. Hedwig stands by the armchair in front of you, wearing a sweet pink dress. You nod. She squeals and sits down, looking giddy.

“Do you want me to get you anything?” she asks. “Maybe something to dilute the whiskey with? Drinking on an empty stomach isn’t good, you know?”

“What do you know about that?” you ask. “Are you a heavy drinker?”

“No, but Edmund is … and I guess that you can imagine how ha is when he is drunk.”

“I’m not drunk … but yes, i can imagine how he would be. He’s not the politest sober either.”

“He’s nice, in his own way.” She shakes her head, as if she’s shaking herself free from thoughts. “How are you feeling? I heard that you had some troubles. Do you want to share them with me?”

“No, I’m okay, I think I got it now. It’s been nice to sit and think … to deal with it myself.”

“What have you come up with?”

“That I don’t want anything to do with those bastards in New York anymore. If I had the list, I’d give it to Silas and Jerry. I wish I had written down the names.”

“You remember some of them, don’t you?”

She picks up a notebook out of her purse and places it on the table. A golden pen is connected to it.

“Write them down”, she says.

You stare at the notebook, questioning if you really should give away the little information you know. You would never have done that before. An old saying pops into your head — my enemie’s enemy is my friend.

You pick up the pen.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere oc x you #yandere mafia #yandere oc x reader #yandere doctor #yandere oc #yandere king #yandere female #female yandere #yandere rich girl #male reader

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midnight-shadow-cafe · 6 hours ago

Text

A Kingdom of Shadows and Steel

Paring: Poly 141 x Reader

AU: (Medival) Knights!141 x Healer!Reader

Warnings: fluff, angst, mentions of injuries, boys assist in training their healer

Authors Note: I hope you enjoy, i might make a story about this-

Word Count: 1.3k

Masterlist

MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+

The wind carried the scent of blood and smoke as you knelt in the ruins of the battlefield. Around you, the cries of the wounded echoed—some fading into silence as life slipped away, others clawing at the edge of survival. Your hands worked quickly, trembling but steady, weaving threads of healing magic into a soldier’s mangled leg. The golden glow of your power barely illuminated the grotesque wound, but slowly, the torn flesh began to knit itself back together.

“Get out of here,” you urged, your voice strained but firm. “Before they come back.”

The soldier nodded weakly, dragging himself toward the treeline where others had fled. You sat back on your heels, every ounce of strength drained. Magic always demanded more than you were prepared to give, and this battlefield—a wasteland of broken bodies and charred earth—had swallowed your reserves hours ago.

The sharp crunch of boots on gravel snapped you out of your haze. Your head jerked up, instinctively raising a hand as though you could muster another spell. A shadow loomed over you, taller and broader than anyone you’d encountered today.

“You’re braver than you look,” a low, accented voice drawled.

You blinked, your vision sharpening. A man clad in battered black armor stood before you, a half-mask obscuring the lower half of his face. His eyes, sharp and dark, studied you with an intensity that made your skin prickle.

Behind him stood three others, equally imposing: a grizzled, blue-eyed man who carried himself with the weight of leadership; a younger soldier with a cheeky grin, his messy hair barely kept in check; and a man whose presence was like a shadow—silent, his face hidden behind a skull-like mask.

“I wasn’t aware the crown hired mages,” the grizzled man—Captain John Price, you realized—remarked, his arms crossed.

“They don’t,” you replied, struggling to your feet. “I’m not with the crown.”

The masked one, who had yet to speak, tilted his head slightly, his gaze pinning you in place. “Then what are you doing on *our* battlefield?”

You met his stare, unwilling to back down. “Saving lives, since you lot can’t seem to stop spilling blood.”

The younger man—Soap, if you remembered correctly—barked a laugh. “She’s got fire, eh? I like her already.”

Price’s gaze didn’t waver. “We’ll see.”

They didn’t leave you behind. Despite your protests—and your insistence that you could take care of yourself—they decided it was too dangerous for a lone healer to wander war-torn lands. Price gave the order, and that was that.

At first, their presence was overwhelming. They moved like a unit, each man fitting into the group like a piece of a puzzle. Ghost’s quiet intensity was unnerving; you often caught him watching you, his gaze unreadable. Price was distant but protective, a commanding figure who seemed to expect competence from everyone—including you. Soap, with his endless jokes and easy grin, was the only one who made an effort to pull you out of your shell. And then there was Gaz, whose sharp wit and subtle kindness chipped away at your defenses before you even realized it.

The days blurred together as you traveled. The landscape was a patchwork of desolation: burned villages, abandoned farmlands, and the occasional stretch of wilderness untouched by war. At night, the group set up camp in silence, each man falling into a routine as practiced as it was efficient.

You, however, struggled to find your place. Healing was all you knew, and while they respected your skill, you felt like an outsider. That began to change one cold evening when Soap handed you a dagger.

“You’re good with magic,” he said, twirling his own blade between his fingers, “but magic won’t save you when someone’s got steel to your throat.”

You hesitated before taking the weapon. “I don’t know how to use this.”

“That’s what I’m here for.” He grinned, positioning himself behind you. His hands covered yours as he adjusted your grip and stance.

“Relax,” he murmured. “You’re too stiff. It’s just me.”

His touch was firm but careful, his teasing tone oddly comforting. By the time the lesson ended, you were breathless—not from exertion, but from the way his laughter warmed the cold night air.

Over the following weeks, the 141 began to feel less like an obligation and more like a team. Price often joined you during quiet moments, his gruff voice softening as he asked about your past. He was surprisingly easy to talk to, and though he rarely spoke about himself, the glimpses he gave you felt like pieces of a puzzle you were eager to solve.

“You’ve got the heart of a soldier,” he said one night, his eyes steady on yours. “Even if you don’t see it.”

The words lingered, wrapping around your heart like a shield.

Gaz, meanwhile, became your confidant. His sharp humor and easygoing nature made it impossible not to let your guard down. One evening, as you stitched up a tear in his tunic, he regaled you with tales of his childhood.

“Got myself stuck in a tree once,” he admitted, grinning. “Had to be rescued by my little sister. Never lived it down.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “I can’t imagine you needing rescuing.”

“Well, we all need rescuing sometimes,” he said, his tone suddenly serious. “Even you.”

You looked away, his words striking a nerve you weren’t ready to confront.

And then there was Ghost. He was the hardest to read, his silence a wall you couldn’t climb. But his actions spoke volumes. He always seemed to know when you were on the verge of exhaustion, his presence grounding you in ways you couldn’t explain. One night, as you cleaned a gash on his arm, he surprised you by speaking.

“You’re stronger than you look,” he said quietly.

You met his gaze, startled. “So are you.”

For a moment, the world narrowed to just the two of you. And in that moment, you felt something shift.

It was during an ambush that everything changed.

You were caught off guard, the group scattered as enemy soldiers descended upon your camp. You barely had time to draw your dagger before a blade was swinging toward you.

“Down!” Ghost’s voice cut through the chaos. He moved like a shadow, intercepting the attack with brutal efficiency.

The battle was over in minutes, but the fear lingered. As you sat by the fire that night, your hands still trembling, Soap leaned close, his grin softer than usual.

“You did good,” he said, his voice low. “You held your own.”

“I froze,” you muttered.

“And then you fought,” Gaz added, his hand resting briefly on your shoulder. “That’s what matters.”

You looked around the circle, meeting each of their gazes. For the first time, you felt like you belonged.

The firelight cast flickering shadows across their faces as the five of you huddled close. The tension that had been building for weeks finally reached its breaking point.

“I’m not blind,” Soap said, breaking the silence. “I see the way you all look at her.”

You froze, your heart pounding. “What are you talking about?”

Gaz snorted. “Don’t play dumb. We’ve all got eyes.”

Price cleared his throat, his gaze flickering to you. “It’s true. We’ve… grown attached.”

Ghost’s voice was barely above a whisper. “It’s not just attachment.”

You stared at them, speechless. The walls you’d built around yourself began to crumble, the weight of your feelings crashing down.

“I… I don’t know what to say,” you admitted, your voice shaking.

“Say you’ll stay,” Price said, his tone gentle but firm.

“Say you’ll let us protect you,” Gaz added.

“Say you’ll let us love you,” Soap finished, his grin softening into something vulnerable.

Your gaze swept over them, each one looking at you with a mix of hope and fear. And for the first time in a long time, you let yourself believe that maybe, just maybe, you didn’t have to face the world alone.

“I’ll stay,” you whispered.

Hope you enjoyed! Please consider liking and reposting! -Midnight💜

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azzifuddslover · 14 hours ago

Text

off the court

paige bueckers x azzi fudd

themes: angst, jealously

tw: swearing (i think that’s all?)

word count: 2.7k

a/n: i had fun with this chapter! excited to continue writing 😋 i had to ofc add the lil dijonai & lyss foul haha. also if u have any one shot suggestions please please lemme know! enjoy

CHAPTER TWO

“oh my goodness, hi!” nika pulled each one of the freshmen into a warm embrace. “we’re so excited to have you guys here!”

we? paige thought to herself, that she didn’t dare speak out loud.

“we’re excited to be here!” caroline smiled at the three older girls, as aubrey and azzi hugged.

paige purposefully put distant between herself and the curly headed brunette, not wanting to start arguments her first day.

“so, where do you guys wanna see next?” aubrey questioned, while paige remained silent, keeping to herself.

“you tell us,” ashlynn said, excitedly.

“alright,” nika slung her arm around paige’s shoulder, “let’s go show you the dorms then.”

as the seven girls made their way to the dorm rooms, azzi walked behind aubrey who led the way, while nika and paige placed themselves in the back.

“you good, p?” nika whispered, “it’s unlike you to be this quiet.”

paige plastered a smile on her face, “all good, nik.”

“no, seriously, what’s up?”

“i’m fine, really. just tired,” she reassured her close friend, gently squeezing her shoulder.

minutes later the girls arrived at the dorms when nika spoke up.

“i think it’s best to divide into groups so we can still get lunch. aubrey, show caroline and yanna your room, paige show azzi yours and i’ll show ash mine.”

of course nika would place azzi with paige. alone.

“um, i’ll take ashlynn,” paige suggested, but it was too late. ashlynn was already off with nika, aubrey was leading carol and yanna to her dorm.

azzi stood awkwardly in the hallway, eyes focused on the floor, as paige glanced once at her before taking off to her room.

“cmon,” she muttered, passing azzi.

azzi was hesitant to follow, but she did regardless, keeping her head low while nerves twisted in her stomach. azzi couldn’t remember the last time she was alone with paige, if ever. the pair have clearly never gotten along, so she was nervous to see where this would go.

paige opened the door to her dorm, that she shared with another teammate, dorka, who happened to be laying in her bed.

“hey dorka,” paige said, announcing her presence along with azzi’s.

“hey p,” dorka looked at her, then at the freshmen, “who’s this?”

“one of the new freshmen, azzi.”

dorka smiled at azzi in a reassuring manner, then pulled her in for a quick hug. “welcome to uconn, azzi!”

azzi gently hugged the older girl back, feeling less nervous with dorka being there. “happy to be here.”

“you’re going to love it. i’m a transfer, and its absolutely amazing. the girls are all so great, geno can be a bit tough, but he means well,” dorka explained.

azzi was genuinely excited for her start at university of connecticut. she’s always kept uconn as an option for her future school, and finally was able to commit just a few weeks ago. she figured it’d be the best fit for her, despite paige being here.

“well, i told lou i’d meet her in the dining hall, so i’ll catch y’all later,” dorka said, grabbing her bag and phone before quickly leaving.

the silent in the small dorm was haunting. paige’s eyes were focused on her phone, while azzi motionlessly stood against the wall, waiting for any sort of conversation.

“so, do you like it here so far?” paige asked, finally breaking the silence.

azzi looked over at paige, “it’s nice, yeah. the girls seem nice.”

“that’s good,” paige replied.

“are you excited to meet-“

“you don’t have to make small talk, paige. we both know you aren’t happy with me committing here,” azzi bite out.

paige scolded her eyes, “you’re right. i’m not happy with you being here. but i can’t change it, can i?”

“nope, you can’t. let’s just ignore each other like we’ve always have.”

secretly, paige didn’t want to ignore azzi. she couldn’t. but she pretended to did it anyway.

“fine by me,” paige shouted, walking towards the door.

“where are you going? this is literally your room!”

“anywhere else but here, with you. go catch up with nika or something,” paige muttered as she left, leaving azzi staring at the door.

it was the first day of practice with the new additions to the uconn team, and paige successfully avoided azzi at all costs. whenever the team got together, they’d always converse with other players, never daring to look each other’s way.

paige brought the basketball up the court during a 5v5 match. she directed the players on her team to her liking, then passed it to lou who made the open 3 shot. aubrey secured the rebound, threw it off to azzi, who began to bring it to the opposing net. paige, of course, was right on her heels, defending her. azzi noticed the blonde from the corner of her eye, looking unbothered as ever.

reaching the 3 point line with paige right there, azzi considers all the potential lanes to the basket. when nika, part of the opposing team, goes to defend aubrey, azzi sprints through an open lane, going for the layup.

paige was quick to notice her plan, though. she blocked the ball from entering the basket, hitting azzi in the process. it was an obvious foul.

“hey, that’s a foul!” azzi shouted.

paige, who’s grinning to herself, adverted her eyes to the brunette. “no it wasn’t, it was clean.”

“bullshit!”

“you’re just mad you can’t make a shot on me,” paige replied.

“please. like i haven’t done it before!” azzi exclaimed loud enough for heads to turn.

“ladies!” coach auriemma interrupted their argument, “make sure to stay after practice.”

for goodness sake, paige thought to herself.

“this is all your fault,” paige whispered, loud enough for only azzi could hear.

azzi simply rolled her eyes at paige’s remark. she wasn’t going to let the older girl distract her further; she’s already done it enough.

practice quickly came to a close; azzi managed to put distance between herself and paige, not wanting to cause any more trouble than she already had.

each one of the basketball players made their way out of the gym, while azzi and paige anxiously remained, waiting for coach.

his office door opened, “come on in.”

paige took the left chair as azzi took the right, both not saying a word. coach auriemma looked pissed.

“your behaviors is unacceptable. if you both want to help this team succeed, we’ll all need to get along, including you two. especially you guys. you both are two of the best players we have, and i’m going to need y’all to quit it with the bickering and focus on the game. am i clear?”

“yes, coach,” paige and azzi say in unison.

“alright then. with that being said, go out to eat with one another. get to know each other. i don’t know what caused your disliking of each other, but it’s got to change immediately,” geno auriemma instructed the girls.

paige’s eyes widen as azzi shifted uncomfortably in her seat, clearly not pleased with his suggestion. but azzi was new, and she only wanted to please her coach.

“that sounds fine by me,” azzi said, despite her brain saying she’d rather do anything else.

paige stole a glance at the younger girl, before also agreeing.

“good. when tomorrow comes around, i better not hear any arguments. and if i do, the pair of you will face further consequences. am i understood?”

paige nodded her head rapidly, “yes coach.”

“so, where do you wanna go?” azzi questioned the blonde after exiting coach auriemma’s office.

paige rolled her eyes, “we aren’t actually going anywhere together. if you thought that, you’re crazy.”

azzi couldn’t help but be slightly shocked that paige would lie to their coach. “paige, i’m not getting into more trouble just because of you. look, i don’t want to go anywhere with you either, but we have no choice. let’s just get it over with.”

paige absorbed azzi’s words, carefully considering them. “alright, fine,” she sighed, “where too?”

“do you like chick fa la?”

“uh, yeah. who doesn’t? that’s like asking if i breath air.”

after a silent car ride with paige driving and azzi being the passenger princess, the two ordered their meals and sat in an open booth, facing one another.

paige continued not to look azzi in the eye. azzi, however, was harshly glaring at the older girl. “are you going to ignore me forever or actually acknowledge we’re teammates?”

paige finally locked gazes with azzi, “i was planning to ignore you forever.”

azzi couldn’t help but softly chuckle, “of course you were.”

paige lips rose at the sight of azzi’s breathtaking smile, “you make it impossible, though.”

“oh, really? it seems you’ve been doing it pretty damn well for as long as i’ve known you.”

paige didn’t dare to tell her that ignoring azzi is the hardest thing someone could do. it wasn’t just her skills on the court, that could make anyone, including paige, second-guess their game. it was the way azzi carried herself, making everything she did seem effortless, even when it wasn’t. her silent confidence and her ability to make everyone feel included even in a busy crowd. paige hated how much she admired the young girl from afar; how looking at azzi made her forget about everything and everyone around her. it was impossible to ignore a girl like azzi.

instead, paige settled on, “you’re just a pretty good player. i always notice good players.”

after swallowing a bite of a chicken nugget, azzi leaned her elbows on the table, a small smirk lingering on her face. “so now you admit to me being good?”

paige couldn’t help but roll her eyes at her comment regarding USA basketball days. “whatever, whatever.”

azzi laughed to herself, and continued to enjoy her meal, while paige also focused on eating rather than the conversation.

azzi and paige eventually relaxed to each other’s presence, feeling more comfortable than before. they discussed the challenging classes they were taking and geno’s firm coaching methods; the girls began to somewhat enjoy each others company, when a boy around their age walked up to their table.

paige and azzi both looked up at the man, who was directly eyeing the brunette. azzi’s cheeks reddened at the sudden attention.

“can we help you?” paige asked, making the man turn to look at her.

“yeah, uh, i was wondering if i could get your number? you’re, like, really pretty,” the man said to azzi.

her cheeks were basically inflamed at this point, “uh,” she tried to think of the words, “sure, i guess?”

paige scoffed at azzi’s interaction with this random guy. they were finally talking and she had to ruin it. paige clenched her fists and suddenly rose from the table, causing the man and azzi to look at her.

“i’m going to the car,” paige announced, taking off before azzi could get another word out.

after paige’s exit, the boy looked helplessly at azzi, beaming regardless of paige’s reaction. he was pretty cute, but azzi didn’t have the time to focus on anything but basketball and her classes.

“i’m kameron, by the way,” he said.

“i’m azzi, but i gotta go, sorry,” azzi replied, trying to hurry out of there as soon as possible.

“wait, your number-“ but azzi was already out the door.

azzi climbed into the passenger seat, immediately aware that this ride will be even more awkward than the one they previously had.

paige’s grip on the steering wheel caused her knuckles to turn white. when azzi noticed, she softly asked, “are you okay?”

“are you kidding me, azzi? we were finally getting along and you had to ruin it by giving some dude attention. what the actual fuck?”

“it wasn’t my fault he came up to me!” azzi shouted at paige.

“you could’ve said no! but instead you agreed right in front of me!”

azzi gaped at paige, “why do you care who asks me for my number?”

“i don’t!” paige answered defensively, although it was a complete lie.

“what are you, jealous?”

paige’s cheeks tinted at her comment, “don’t be silly, azzi.” she turned on the car and began driving down the road.

arriving back on campus, paige instantly took off without as much as a glance at azzi. after their short argument in the car, paige blasted music to avoid further comments from azzi.

azzi scrolled into her dorm that she shared with caroline, letting out an aggravated sigh.

“you good, girl?” carol asked azzi, with her eyebrows drawn together.

“yeah. coach auriemma made me and paige go out to eat, trying to make us get to know one another. complete bullshit, if you ask me.”

“why don’t y’all like each other, anyway?” carol questioned her friend.

“i don’t know! i have no idea what i did to her. she’s hated me ever since USA basketball,” azzi complained.

caroline looked around in confusion. “wait, so what went down when you guys were out?”

“we were actually talking, without arguing, and a guy came up, asking for my number. paige just got up and left. then in the car, she got all pissing and screamed how i said yes ‘right in front of her,’” azzi made quotations with her fingers.

caroline laughed at azzi’s explanation. “what?” azzi smiled.

“she was jealous!”

although azzi accused paige of being jealous earlier, she didn’t exactly believe it to be true. how could paige be jealous of someone hitting on azzi? she hated her.

“no, trust me, she wasn’t. she was just upset for some reason.”

“oh my god, she’s totally in love with you or something,” carol suggested as azzi turned pink.

“caroline, she’s not. she’s constantly avoiding me and is always mean. does that really should like her liking me?”

carol held out her hands like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “um, yes!”

azzi couldn’t comprehend how caroline got the impression that paige was in love with her. that was beyond crazy. paige’s hatred for azzi has been going strong ever since USA basketball tryouts. there was just no way.

practice the next day was going smoothly; paige and azzi didn’t interact much, like the usual, which didn’t cause geno to enable further consequences for the young girls. azzi was showing off her 3 point shooting skills, while paige continued to be an assist machine.

it was time for another 5v5, and of course paige and azzi were on opposing teams. azzi drained 3 after 3, getting impressive looks from her teammates as well as the two coaches.

a long rebound ended up near the 3 point line, to which azzi managed to secure it. however, she didn’t see the older blonde who was also going for the rebound right behind her. paige crashed into azzi, knocking her to the floor face first. paige maintained her standing position, with each one of her legs around azzi’s torso.

without thinking, paige reached down to place both hands on azzi’s hips, gently pulling her up. azzi’s ass was flush against paige’s front, sending unwelcome feelings throughout the blonde’s body.

there’s a brief moment of awkward silence, azzi still slightly disoriented from the fall. paige’s hands lingered on azzi’s hips a second too long, not that azzi made any hint to move them. she can feel the older girls hands on her body, steady and warm, making her heart skip a beat in her chest.

“you good?” paige whispered, practically in the curly brunette’s ear, given the distance between the girls.

“yeah, thanks,” azzi replied breathlessly, trying desperately to hide the flush creeping up her neck.

after noticing her lingering hands on the hips of azzi, paige removes them acting as calm as possible. paige notices a shift in tone and smirks, teasing the younger girl, “didn’t think i hit you that hard.”

azzi responds with a snark of her own, “i’m not fragile, you know,” attempting to look tougher than she truly is.

paige’s smirk widens as she allows her eyes to take in the sight of azzi. messy bun, leg sleeve, practice jersey slightly ruffled. she looked good.

“like what you see?” azzi commented on paige’s wandering eyes.

embarrassed, paige looks away, “you wish.”

azzi softly chuckles as the freshmen makes her way over to caroline and yanna, ready to continue the 5v5.

in a dais, paige stands motionless in the spot of her and azzi’s interaction, silently wishing she could have one more excuse to talk to her.

but the older girl didn’t, so she walked back into position, ready for the next play to come.

#azzi fudd #paige bueckers #pazzi #paige x azzi #fanfic #nika muhl #uconn huskies #basketball #uconn wbb #enemies to lovers

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morganski-19 · 13 hours ago

Text

Chills Right to the Marrow Part 51

ao3 link| part 1 . . . part 48, part 49, part 50

“What if we let him stay with us,” Eddie says out of the blue, sitting on one of their new kitchen chairs.

Wayne stops unpacking glasses, turning to look at him. “What?”

“Steve, what if we let him stay with us. Just while he tries to find a place.” He fidgets with his hands, avoiding Wayne’s eye contact. “We’ve, uh, been talking, and he’s put off trying to find a place. Now that he knows the end date, he’s started looking but can’t afford any of places that are open right now.”

Wayne pushes the box back onto the counter, he can finish it later. He turns fully toward Eddie, leaning back on the counter and crossing his arms. “So, you want us to let him stay here.”

“Yeah, and it could be like paying him back, you know. For letting us stay with him. Return the favor, and everything.”

He sighs, wiping a hand down his face. “We don’t exactly have the space for that. Unless you’re planning on him sleeping on the couch.”

Eddie stutters, further ignoring Wayne’s gaze. Mouth opening with no sound coming out.

“Or is this the part where you finally tell me you two are seeing each other?”

Eddie freezes. “How did you know?”

Wayne shakes his head. “Cause I’m not an idiot. You two go from chewing each other’s head off to being super close and touchy. And I saw Steve try to sneak out of your room when I got back from a shift. He thought he played it off, but I knew.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Wanted to see how long it took you to tell me yourself. It’s been almost three weeks, and we all live together. You really thought I didn’t know?”

Eddie shrugs. “I don’t know. We were just feeling it out, didn’t want to tell anyone in case it blew up fast.”

“And now you want him to move in with us? Sleep in your room, in your bed. You really think that’s a good idea?”

“I thought you would be cooler about this. Steve’s a good guy, you know that.”

He does know that. But he knows a lot of things that leave him questioning. Even if it’s just from passing comments. Ammunition that could have been meaningless, but there was history behind it. History Wayne doesn’t know but can assume what it means.

Maybe he’s an ass for assuming. Maybe he’s just being overprotective. But when it comes to matters of the heart, people can be reckless. They can jump without looking just to get hurt in the end.

Steve might be a good guy for letting them stay in his house. He might be a good friend, a good role model for the kids. But a good boyfriend, for Wayne’s boy, he’ll never be good enough. No one will.

“I know. I’m just worried that letting him stay here would make a jump you’re not quite ready yet.”

Eddie nods, looking down at his hands. “It’s early, I know. And it’d be temporary. I just—I don’t want to leave him high and dry. He helped us when we had nowhere else to go, I thought we might be able to so the same.”

Wayne gets where his head’s at. He gets wanting to do something to thank Steve that would be anywhere near the way he’s helped them. Hell, Wayne does too. There are just so many reservations in his head. So many ways that this could go wrong.

“I’ll think about it,” Wayne concedes. “On a few conditions, it is actually temporary, and I’m the one who talks to him about it. You say nothing until I do, got it.”

“Got it.” Eddie smiles brighter than he has in a long time. “Thank you, it means a lot, even you just thinking about it.”

He sighs. “Yeah well, you have a point.”

“You’re not going to get, like, super weird and protective now that you know right?”

Wayne scoffs, going back to the box that needs unpacking. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Steve told me what happened while I was still in the coma. I know you didn’t like him around me. I know that has changed, but it’s different now. And don’t you remember back in my freshman year where I told you about that guy in my English class and you threatened to kill him if he looked at me wrong?”

He shrugs. “That’s just part of being a parent, can’t turn it off.”

That kid would have deserved what came to him if Wayne actually followed through. After the first few months of peace, he made Eddie’s life a living hell.

“Well, Steve’s a good guy, and he’s good to me, so just, tone it down a little bit.”

Wayne turns to look at Eddie again. He’s honestly surprised that this conversation is happening, but also glad that it is. Eddie’s hasn’t exactly seen that many people. Not in the town that threatens to crucify you for walking on the wrong side of the road. As far as Wayne was supposed to know, this was Eddie’s first time seeing someone. But he knew that on some of the weekends where Eddie would disappear for a night, it was to sneak into one of those bars down in Indy.

That was dangerous, this was less so. As far as Wayne knows, Steve’s romantic life is a mixed bag. Short term relationships and one long one that ended semi-badly. Sue him for being cautious. Sue him for looking out for his kid. After all the pain they went through in the past year, he could at least try to make sure heartbreak wasn’t added to the mix.

“You happy?” Wayne asks, watching as Eddie’s face softens.

“Yeah.”

“You being safe?”

“We haven’t gotten that far yet, but when we do, we will.”

Wayne nods. “Then I’ll tone it down a little. Just a little. Don’t go expecting miracles.”

The rest of the box gets unpacked, the glasses and other dishware slowly filling the cabinets. The home starting to really look like a home.

“Thank you,” Eddie says quietly.

“Yeah, yeah.”

Steve gets back from work late. Wayne wasn’t exactly waiting for him, but he wasn’t exactly not waiting for him. He was just in the kitchen, putting something together for a late dinner, knowing that Steve was going to be home soon. If it felt like a good time, he was going to bring it up. If it didn’t, he was going to give it a day.

But he can feel that protective burn bubbling up and can’t snuff it out. He needed to know.

“I know about you two,” Wayne says. More menacingly than he meant to, but doesn’t know how else to start this.

Steve freezes, hand on the fridge’s handle. Holding it open. “What?”

“You and Eddie, I know.”

He nods, closing the door and clearing his throat. “For how long?”

“Few weeks. You’re really not a slick as you think you are.”

Steve leans on the counter, crossing his arms. Ready for a lecture. “We were going to tell you, just wanted to make sure we weren’t making a mistake first.”

“Interesting word there, mistake.” Wayne’s pressing, trying to lure out what he needs to see. Make sure that this isn’t something he needs to worry about.

“I just didn’t want to lose another friend because of a relationship. It took me years to be able to be friends with Nancy. I didn’t want the same to happen with Eddie.”

Wayne nods. Satisfied with the answer.

“What you said a few weeks ago, that you saw the way I acted around him. And you wanted to stop the hurt before it started. I’m not planning on hurting him. I can’t promise I won’t mess up; I tend to do that a lot. But I always try to make up for it, to learn. I’ve gotten really good at apologizing.”

The protectiveness dies down, Steve hitting everything he wanted to hear. And Eddie’s right, Wayne knows that he’s a good guy. He’s made mistakes, but he’s grown. He’s changed. It’s as much as Wayne can ask for.

“You know, earlier today, Eddie brought up this idea of letting you stay with us until you find a place on your own.”

Steve’s face fills with shock. “He did?”

Wayne nods. “Yeah. As you can imagine, I had my hesitations. We don’t exactly have spare rooms like you do. But,” Wayne can’t believe he’s really saying this, but it feels right, “if you wanted, you could stay with us. With the promise that you find a place on your own, and that this won’t put an unnecessary strain on your new relationship.”

“I—” Steve tries to get out. “Thank you.”

Before Wayne can register what’s happening, Steve’s hugging him.

“Thank you,” he repeats. The words heavy with relief.

“Yeah, well. After all you did for me, it’s only fair that I return the favor.”

Steve lets go, taking a step back. “But you didn’t, a lot of people don’t. So, thank you.”

He realizes that there is so much story of Steve that he still doesn’t know. Hurt and pain that he keeps hidden away. Not for other people to see. Steve walks away before he can ask, or even question. Hesitating before walking down the hall to Eddie’s room.

This was going to be interesting.

apologies for the late post, I was at work and then driving home from break, and forgot to post before I left (like I planned to). And posting tag lists from mobile sucks ass.

tag list (closed): @the-they-who-nerded, @insteviewetrust, @croatoan-like-its-hot, @jettestar,

@tinyplanet95, @steddie-as-they-go, @slv-333, @littlecelestialmoth, @thatonebadideapanda,

@fandomsanddeath, @marismorar, @wonderland-girl143-blog, @glass-bottle03, @gutterflower77,

@here4thetrama, @goodolefashionedloverboi, @jaytriesstuff, @cryptid-system, @manda-panda-monium,

@resident-gay-bitch, @anaibis, @xxsutherlandxx, @forevermineliv, @mugloversonly,

@gregre369, @n0-1-important, @different-tale-student, @spectrum-spectre, @tartarusknight,

@devondespresso, @swimmingbirdrunningrock, @cheertain, @anti-ozzie, @autumncrocusandladybug,

@greeniebean911, @cr0w-culture, @stillfullofshit, @connected-dots, @daisynotquake,

@morgannotlefay, @a-little-unsteddie, @dolphincliffs, @maskofmirrors, @me-and-my-sloth,

@papergrenade, @waelkyring, @sweetheartprincess28, @katouasobj, @astercomoasflores

#chills right to the marrow fic #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #wayne munson #wayne pov #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie

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redrose10 · 3 days ago

Note

oh pleaaaase i think this would hit!

Can you pretty please do-about the prompt game-

au!12 neighbors not really neighbors (like, funnily they meet ever single time at the same local 7eleven or supermarket idk, they live on the same block, trope 9, first 49 with 66 and then 28,15 last 33 (66 and all last three nsfw) with Nam or Jin whoever you like. Could you pls add reader is like short height? THANK YOUUUUU take care xx

I hope this is what you were looking for and you like it!

< The Cookie Jar >

Warnings: Swearing, Smut

Neighbors, Stranger to Lovers

#49 “I need some assistance here.”

#66 “That’s illegal.”

#28 “We can’t do that here!”

#15 “Well fine just this once.”

#33 “Oh kitten…you’ve really never done this before?”

*******************************************************

“Eggs, flour, butter…eggs, flour, butter…eggs, flour, butter.”

You were repeating this to yourself over and over hoping that you wouldn’t forget anything. It was late and you were exhausted and just wanted to get home to have some dinner and relax, but you were required to be an adult first and get some groceries since it was your turn to bring cookies for your jobs weekly cookie jar. It was a dumb thing that management came up with to try and boost morale because that made more sense to them than just giving everyone a raise or some extra time off. Either way it was mandatory and not something you could get out of without ending up in a meeting with HR.

Normally you would just buy premade cookies but your boss informed you that it wasn’t fair to the others that actually took the time to make the cookies homemade so you had to stop.

You weren’t in any mood to play Betty Crocker so you were making a simple Snickerdoodle that only needed a few ingredients and you hoped you could just remember all of them before you walked out of the store.

Groaning when you saw the price of the butter you stared at your options hoping to find something on sale or with a coupon.

“This is a really good brand.”, a deep voice spoke slightly startling you. The man was pointing at a random box of butter.

“Is it?”, you chuckled, “I have to make cookies for work, but didn’t expect butter to cost me to promise my first born child.”

The man laughed, giving you the first glimpse of his beautiful smile with dimples included.

“Yeah I’m not much of a baker myself, but I’ve heard my mom complain quite a bit about how the prices are insane.”

“Glad I’m not the only one then.”, you laughed.

He reached down and grabbed one of the cartons of butter and handed it to you.”, She uses this one and I can confirm she makes the best cookies every time.”

You placed the carton in your cart., “I mean…I think you might be a little biased but I’ll take your word for it.” He chuckled and gave you a smile before walking away towards the registers. You spent the rest of the evening thinking about the handsome stranger whose name you didn’t even know.

“Stupid job, stupid cookies, stupid boss, stupid Hobi, stupid stupid stupid.”, you grumbled as you picked up a shopping basket. It was once again your turn to bring cookies for the dreaded cookie jar. Thanks to your coworker Hobi abruptly quitting it was also your turn a week sooner than you had planned. Luckily you had most of the ingredients from last time still sitting in your pantry. All you needed were chocolate chips and sugar.

After you grabbed your two items you decided to stop in the prepared foods section to get something for dinner to make it easier on yourself. You were so deep in thought trying to decide between the sesame noodles or the chicken teriyaki that you didn’t even notice someone standing next to you until they spoke, “Get the sesame noodles. The teriyaki tastes weird.”

You looked up to see the same guy from a few weeks ago walking past you, dimples once again on display. By the time your brain registered what happened and that you should go after him to finally get his name he was already walking out of the store. You grabbed the noodles and headed for the exit so you could finally go home to sulk while you baked some chocolate chip cookies.

You actually enjoyed baking when it was on your own terms and you didn’t have to hear the office go on and on about how amazing the cookies that Jin brought are, because his wife owns a bakery so OF COURSE they’re going to be amazing.

So when your best friend asked you make her favorite chocolate cake and come over with a tub of ice cream after her boyfriend dumped her, you didn’t even think twice.

The cake was sliding from side to side and the ice cream was already melting and you regretted grabbing those two bottles of wine because they were heavier than you thought so you were very glad that your friend lives just a three minute walk down the street from you.

You were trying to punch in the code to unlock the door when you heard a very familiar voice making your heart skip a beat.

“Looks like you’ve upgraded from cookies to cake huh?”

You were standing speechless staring at the beautiful man you somehow keep running into.

Just then your friend opened the door hearing the voices outside, “There you are! Oh hey Joonie! Hi Yoongs and Kook.”

It wasn’t until then did you realize there were two other guys standing off to the side and they were almost as handsome as “Joonie”. It made you question what they were putting in the water at this apartment complex.

“Joonie?”, you questioned with a brow raise.

He chuckled, “Yeah sorry about that. We’ve never been introduced. I’m Namjoon and those are my roommates Yoongi and Jungkook.”

You gave a small wave before turning your attention back to Namjoon so you could introduce yourself, “Y/N.”

Somehow or another you and your friend were invited over to Namjoon’s for pizza and drinks. It was all kind of a blur and you were too focused on finally getting to know the guy you’ve been crushing on for a while.

At some point the wine had become too much so you went to stand out on the balcony and get some fresh air. After a little while you started to sober up and feel much better. The door slid open and out came Namjoon. He smiled handing you a soft blanket and took a seat next to you. It seemed like he was sobering up at well.

“I’m sorry I never properly introduced myself. It was like my brain melted every time I saw you.”, he chuckled. “It’s okay. My brain didn’t seem to want to function either.”

A slight breeze moved through the air causing you to shiver. Namjoon moved a little closer wrapping his arm around you to help shield you from the wind.

You took the time to look him over but it was like he had the same idea as he was already staring at you and beginning to lean in which you reciprocated.

One kiss turned into two turned into soft moans and hands exploring each others body.

“Do you want to take this further?”, he asked pulling away.

You did. You figured you could make it to your place in less than five minutes or maybe even his room, but could hear a karaoke session going on inside so you knew everyone was still awake and would definitely know what was going on if you two walked back to his room. But it was something you were willing to deal with later.

“Yeah let’s do it.”, you nodded.

You squealed in surprise when he started unbuttoning your shirt. He struggled with the third button. “I need some assistance here.”, he laughed trying to hide his frustration.

“Namjoon, we can’t do that here!”, you exclaimed feeling your entire body flush at the thought.

He surprisingly pouted, “Why not?”

“Well for one thing, It’s illegal. We’re out in the open. People could see us.”

“It’s only illegal if we get caught and who’s gonna see? It’s like 2am. Everyone around here is already asleep or not even home.”

He had a point, but you were still unsure. The last thing you needed was a criminal charge on your record, but one look at his growing bulge had your mind going hazy with want.

“Look baby.”, he said in his deep raspy voice that wasn’t making it any easier for you to say no. He continued, “Y/N I won’t make you do anything you’re not comfortable with so we can end it here or we can go as far as you’d like but if we go in there we’ll have to walk past all of them and they’ll definitely know what we’re doing. It’s up to you.”

You loved that he was so willing to do what made you comfortable. Most guys would’ve already up and left if you hadn’t agreed immediately so the fact that he was still there and talking you through it made you want to give into him even more.

“I just…I’ve never done anything like this before…out in the open like this.”, you added the last part quickly to make sure he knew you weren’t a virgin, you just weren’t normally into public sex.

“That’s okay. Like I said whatever you want.”, he whispered giving you a comforting smile.

You swallowed thickly before nodding, “Well fine, just this once. What’s the worst that could happen?”

His lips connected back to yours as he nodded, “I can deal with that.”

Feeling suddenly brave you climbed over taking a seat on his lap. You continued your movements by placing kisses beginning at his jaw and moving down to his neck and then chest.

He finished undoing the buttons of your shirt before helping you slide the material off. Your bra followed soon after. The cold air immediately causing your nipples to pebble and Namjoon wasted no time attaching his mouth to one. The sensation causing you to moan louder than you had intended. Your hand quickly covered your mouth as Namjoon smirked still sucking at your breast. You continued to move your hips using the friction to help provide some relief.

“Y/N.”, Namjoon groaned as you hit a particularly good spot. You thought you had heard a door open causing you to freeze worried that someone had heard the two of you.

“Oh kitten…you’ve really never done this before?”, he asked after noticing your skin turn reddish and your still unsure movements.

“No.”, you shook your head feeling a little embarrassed.

“That’s okay. There’s nothing wrong with that. Want me to walk you through it? Will that help ease your nerves?”

You nodded thankful that he was willing to take charge.

“Okay.”, he kissed you, “Get down on your knees in front of me.”

You did as he said. The balcony was small with not a lot of room to navigate but thanks to your shorter height you were able to snuggle in and fit in-front of him with ease. Your hands placed on his thighs as you waited for his next instructions.

“Now undo my belt…unzip my pants.”

You did as he said hoping he couldn’t see the very slight shake into your hands.

“That’s it baby girl. Now take my cock out… nice and slow.”

The sheer girth shocked you. He was hot and heavy in your hand. Your mouth began to drool, something no other man had ever made you do in this position.

“I know…I know. But you can handle it. Now go ahead and lick.”

You gave a few kitten licks to the tip making sure to lap up the beads of precum as they formed.

“Tha-That’s it baby. F-Fuck yeah. Go ahead and take it all in.”

He was already such a mess for you that it turned you on to a level you had never been. Your arousal was soaking through your panties to the point it was uncomfortable. You started to run your tongue from his base to tip before moving up again to suck him off like your life depended on it.

The sounds he was making increased your confidence and suddenly the prospect of getting caught didn’t seem so scary.

You focused your attention back to Namjoon giving his balls a light squeeze before swirling your tongue around his tip. You jumped a little when you felt his hand reach down and cradle one of your breast giving your nipple a light tug, “Mmmm Y/N. You’re doing so well kitten.” He leaned down and kissed your mouth savoring the taste of himself on your lips before he leaned back and you moved down to continue your bobbing up and down on his length.

Namjoon grabbed a hand full of your hair and pushed you down on his cock making you gag. His head rolled against the chair as he felt his tip hit the back of your throat.

“Is…is that okay?”, he asked through gasps. He pulled his hand away feeling guilty for not checking with your first. You didn’t want to stop so you took his hand and placed it at the back of your head giving him your silent approval to do it again. He gently, but firmly began to thrust into your mouth as you widened your jaw as much as you could allowing him to use you for his own pleasure, enjoying the way he nearly growled every time he got you to gag on him.

“I’m close Y/N. Fuck I’m close. Wh-where do you want it?”

“Tits…tits.”, you scrambled to say panting and drooling and barely able to form a coherent thought.

You moved your attention back to his length once again licking up and down before wrapping your mouth around him determined to bring him to his orgasm. He was close. You could feel his thighs tensing under your hands. A few beads of sweat were running down his forehead even though the weather was cool. His thrusts into your mouth became more and more erratic.

He said your name in a long drawn out moan before swiftly moving you off of him and rapidly jerking himself off with his right hand as his left hand came down to squeeze your breast.

“O-Okay. I’m coming.”, he gritted at his body began to shake.

You leaned closer squeezing your breasts together and watched as the the warm white liquid shot out before collecting in your cleavage.

Namjoon sat back trying to catch his breath before helping you up off of the ground.

“Y/N that was…wow that was unbelievable.”, he huffed using the blanket to help clean you up, “If you…uh if you want to lay down I’d be more than appy to return the favor.”

You smiled at the hint of shyness in his voice because where did the confident, in control man from a few minutes ago go.

“Actually…”, you shook your head, “If you want…my place is just a couple minute walk from here. We could head over there.” After that display you wanted him fully inside of you and you wanted to savor the moment and to take your time. You’re apartment was the best place for that.

His eyebrows lifted up in surprise before he laughed, “Well I wish I would have known that from the start. We could’ve just went there.” You both giggled at the realization before grabbing your things to walk over to your place completely forgetting that there were a group of people in the living room.

“Hey where are you guys going?”, your friends asked when they finally noticed the two of you heading to the door.

You panicked trying to come up with an excuse so that they wouldn’t know you two were going to have sex. Looking around the room your eyes caught sight of the half eaten cake on the counter.

“Cookies! Namjoon really wants to try some of my cookies so we’re gonna head over to my place so I can get some baked up.”

“That’s not fair. I want cookies too.”, Jungkook pouted as he waited for the next round of his game to load.

“They’re not making cookies you idiot. They’re going to have sex.”, Yoongi snorted not even looking up from his phone.

You could feel your body burn up and Namjoon didn’t seem to be fairing much better judging by his pink cheeks.

You said goodbye before quickly shuffling Namjoon out the door so they couldn’t ask any more questions.

“You know…cookies actually sound pretty good right now.”, he smiled as you were walking towards your apartment.

“Well luckily for you I have a cookie jar always stocked.”, you laughed opening your door.

He leaned down to capture you in a kiss and pushing you inside, “Is that so? Well then I’d definitely like to get a taste.”

“You’re welcome to my cookie jar any time.”

#bts #bts fanfic #bts x reader #namjoon x y/n #namjoon x reader #namjoon fluff #namjoon fanfic #namjoon #kim namjoon #RM #namjoon smut #bts smut #bts namjoon #bts fic

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awkward-fink · 15 hours ago

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„Love you, please take care of yourself.” You say, your fingers clutching onto the doorframe so hard you would surely leave imprints behind, but you didn’t care in this moment. Because in front of you stands your husband, lopsided smile on his face, clean shaven and his mohawk freshly touched up by your hands and his careful instructions. "Love ye back, hen. Ah'll be back quicker than ye can believe." He murmurs to you, accent thick and his eyes bright.

You don’t want him to go, you don’t want him to leave you behind again and do something crazy he will tell you all about later (or Gaz will spill the beans, like the time your husband decided to nearly drop a half of a warehouse on his head! Thank you Gaz.).

“It’s jist three months, gie or tak a wee bit, love. Ah’ll be back sune.” “I’m gonna miss you so much, Love.” “Ah'm gonnae miss ye even mair.” “Did you pack the lunch I ma-“ you cant end your sentence as your husband leans into your face, his lips warm and inviting and firm on your own, shutting up every train of thought you had as he kisses you breathless and stupid.

You only remember after you had closed the front door, calmed your racing heart and looked into the kitchen. And there it was, the small package of sandwiches you had made for your husband to take with him, untouched and sloppily wrapped, just like you had placed them there. And the lunch you had made, spaghettis with tomato sauce, was also untouched. Your heart sank.

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“-and then he just goes off to wherever and leaves behind the meal I made for him! This isn’t fair, Leonora!” you pant at the end of your tirade, angrily huffing and growling as you drink the tea your friend and neighbor made in one go, nearly burning your tongue in the process.

“Oh dear, well, honey, how do I say this…” your elderly neighbor wiggled her glasses with one finger, tilting her head from left to right, the curls on top of her head not even moving once. (Soap had once joked that Leonora put so much gel and hairspray into her mountain of curls, she could headbutt any men or women into submission with only one headshake.) “Your food is…” Your shoulders shake and sag as you watch your friend try to think of a way to describe your food in a way that would not totally mortify you or send your soul into hell.

“Bad? A disaster? Hellish? Even a demon would recoil from that torture?” “No, Honey- what I meant to say was, that you have a talent.” Your posture straightens and your eyes glimmer in hope- “You have the talent to burn water.” – only to turn watery and gloomy as your friend goes on with her words.

“That’s not nice…” “But sadly true.”

Leonora leans over the table to pat your shoulder gently, giving you a smile like only a loving grandmother can give. Your eyes turn towards the forgotten sandwiches, which looked even sadder than before and yes, maybe it smelled a little off, but it surely couldn’t be that bad…

You both watch as the single cucumber slice slowly slides down at the side, giving a squelching plopping sound as it hit the table. There is silence for a few seconds before you turn hurt and sad eyes on Leonora, who only pats your shoulders again.

“Kyle told me, that Johnny prefers the mess hall food over mine. The mess hall! No one likes the food from the mess hall!” you are close to sobbing, clutching the mug of tea to your chest like a lifeline.

“Oh dear... Well, there is one thing we can do.” “There is?” “I meet my other friends every Tuesday night for a bit of cards and cooking. How about you come beforehand, and I can teach you some recipes? And the base techniques of cooking?” “You would do that for me?” “Yes, dear. Can’t have your man avoiding home because you cant cook. Think about the children you will have to feed someday!” “You are a saint! Thank you! Please, I beg of you, help me!”

You felt better now, Leonora would help you, she would rescue your culinary skills from the depths of nothing they were at and rise you up towards normal housewife-level meals, you were sure! This would be a piece of cake!

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IT WAS NOT A PIECE OF CAKE! Leonora was menace, a demon from hell! She was a strict and harsh teacher, and you lost count of all the times she hit your arse with a wooden cooking spoon. It felt like you lived through a montage of training! It started with only Tuesdays and then Thursdays as well, and Sundays to help with baking for church! And then Leonoras friends, a gang of grannies, took it upon themselves to further your training!

You chopped and sliced and diced and julienned until your hands could do it perfectly in your sleep (“That is not uniform, this piece of carrot it slightly off! Again!” Julia barked at you, the waif of a woman poking you with her bony fingers until you got it right).

You helped with shopping, hauling load after load of ingredients, having to run back to the shops every time you got some of the listed items wrong (“This is a bitter melon and not a cucumber, run again little chicken, run again!” Tia Zia cackled after you, sending you right back out into the rain again to run to the store before it closed in 5 minutes).

Soon you were frying (“Make it hotter, the potatoes will soak up all the oil if its not hot enough!”), baking (“Is that salt in the cookies? Honey where was your head?”), kneading Pasta from scratch and finally, you cooked a whole meal for the gang of furious grannies and felt like you were back in school, in your exams, your heart racing as the committee of specialists discussed your results before turning to you with hard eyes and grim faces.

“Dear, this food is-“your heart sank and raced at the same time, your stomach dropping as Aunty Angela cracked her neck as she tried to look at you sternly, “this food is good. It is edible and even tastes better than what my niece Lilly makes. Congratulations!”

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“You sure you don’t want to go to another diner before I get you home to your wife?” Johnny snorted and rubbed his overfilled stomach. He was sure he was having a foodbaby growing in there after this morning and this midday. His teammates had stuffed him with pancakes and hashbrowns and every other item of breakfast they could get their hands on and then they did it again at lunch! He was so full; he would hurl if he had to eat another piece of food!

“Naw, it’s awright. Ah’m fair burst, ah cannae eat another thing. An’ Gaz promised he’d send me a care package in a few days.” He smiles at his Captain, rubbing his bulging stomach and fighting down a burp that was stuck in his throat. “Yeah well... next mission is not so far away, no worry. And Ghost packed the rest of the MRE’s into your bag for emergencies.” “Ta, Captain. She's a braw wife in everythin' else, but her cookin' is…” he falls silent and only grins. And then the car is already coming to a stop and his heart beats faster in his chest. He is so close to take his wife into his arms again, to kiss her silly and then sweep her off her feet and into the bedroom, where- “Cheers fur the lift, Captain. Right nice o’ ye!.” “Was on the way. See you soon, stay strong.” “A'll dae that! See ye in a few days tae weeks!" Johnny gives a sloppy salute before rolling out of the car, dragging his luggage out from the backseat to lug it right after him.

And then he is off, loping up the way towards the front door, which is already opening and his wife, the love of his life stands before him, her eyes shining and her hair glossy and her skin looking silky smooth and soft and he can’t wait to wrap his rough hands around her and sink into her softness, be back home again.

He doesn’t remember what he said, or what she wanted to say, his lips are on hers, his arms hold her tight to himself and they stumble inside. And then he comes to a stop, his nose twitching as he sniffs the air, his head turning towards the kitchen. “Sointhing smells awfy guid.” He murmurs and stares at you as if you had grown a second head. “Thank you, it’s a new recipe I tried.” He swallows, his mouth watering. His eyes roaming over her happy glowing face. “Ye... ye cooked this?" “Yeah. And don’t worry, I followed the recipe to a T.” You beam at him, your hands stroking over his arms and shoulders and down his torso, making sure he was alright, holding onto him with delight and happiness radiating from you.

And Johnny, still filled with food and stuffed to the gills with cheap cheeseburgers from lunch, takes another whiff before a soft, but cautious smile steals over his lips. “Ah could dae with some food."

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He must have died. It tasted great.

#awkward fink #cod #blurb #john soap mactavish #you #reader #soap x you #soap x reader #john soap mactavish x you #you cant cook #but the gang of furious neighbourhood grannies will come to your rescue #you get whipped into shape!#bad cooking to good cooking #a kind of enemies to friends (you and the cooking)#jsut a blurb for funsies #hope you like it

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pastlivesxpastlie · 2 days ago

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There's not enough ii/iii/f!reader for me. I need more. 🥹 Can I get a ii/iii/f!reader fic where she asks to watch them together as a birthday present but they invite her to join when she does? Love the idea that ii/iii have a switch dynamic and reader gets to watch one dominate the other but then gets the other side for herself.

You’ll be getting a bill from a neurologist because this broke my brain🫶 @adenobabe @inv3ga imagine me mushing your boys together like Ken dolls.

Ahem…*mic feedback*

Switch!Brat!iii x Switch!ii x Soft!FemDom!Reader

Your birthday was this weekend and you were feeling restless. You made some lowkey plans but when your besties, ii and iii, (The Boyfriends™️ as you called them) asked what you wanted for your birthday, something snapped in your mind.

You: Ok. I know what I want 👉🏻👈🏻 remember that little offer you two had made?

In your mind you still heard III’s slurred words one night as you both eyed II across the pub: “If you think he looks good now, imagine him on top of me. Bet you’d like that…watching your two friends fuck, hm? Little freak.” At the time you laughed it off. III was such a kidder and knew not what he did when he was drunk, so what does it hurt to play along?

“Oh, can’t even imagine what you two get up to,” you purr, but the sarcasm saturates your words.

“What shit are you two talking now?” II appeared behind you silently, thus sandwiching you between him and III. The bassist loomed over both of you yet II’s piercing blue eyes was what kept both of you in place. Lifting your chin, II appraised your cheeks. “III, babes, what were you saying to her?”

“That she should watch sometime,” III responded, sounding stone-cold sober. Maybe he was lucid when he whispered those filthy things. II nodded and shrugged as if to say, ‘she should. Why shouldn’t she?’ The only thing you could do was burst into a nervous laugh which caused the boys to laugh, too; the proposition long forgotten. Or unspoken at least. But you didn’t forget. That was three months ago, allowing you 90 some odd days of the fantasy evolving in your head from something simple such as watching II go down on III to being made to touch yourself while one fucked the other. You could never decide who you liked getting fucked more in your fantasy. There was something obvious about III taking II but that didn’t make it less exciting. The thought of II fucking III made you giggle at first, thinking of iii’s legs all lanky around ii’s little waist, but soon it intrigued you…imagining II claiming III. You felt ashamed for thinking about it even though it wasn’t your original idea…the two of them literally offered themselves to you…you were allowed to enjoy the thought. And more than that…you were allowed to ask for it.

ii: are you sure that’s what you want?

iii: that doesn’t mean “no,” btw, dove.

iii: just means we want to know if we should book a room or not 😈

ii: stop double texting and give her second

iii:🖕

You: I’m sure. Saturday night.

ii: one more thing. If you’re up to it, we want you to join. No pressure, honestly. Even if you change your mind day of, yeah?

All week your mind was on its own little hellish rollercoaster. One minute was “yes! I WILL fuck my best friends!” The next was “no. I will watch respectfully.” And sometimes, but not too often, it was “I should call it off. I should be in horny jail.” But when Saturday night came and you instinctively pulled out your little red dress, you knew your mind was made up. And the boys knew it, too.

When you met up with them in the hotel bar, the energy crackled. There was a giddiness about the three of you, and you found yourself being more openly affectionate with them. It started out innocent enough. Pushing iii’s hair behind his ear mindlessly, resting your hand on ii’s arm when you asked him something—all innocent fun. Until of course they asked if you could tie a cherry stem with your tongue.

“Obviously I can. Watch and learn,” you teased. II leaned forward on the table letting his chin rest in his hand, watching intently, while iii crossed his arms.

“What are you even doing?” III laughed, asking what everyone was thinking. This was so much harder than you remembered. “Such a liar.”

“I dunno…it’s kind of hot. Persistent little thing,” II said not taking his eyes off you. You spit out the cherry stem, not even bent much less tied. A rosy blush covers your face as you giggle at yourself. “Look at her,” ii teases as he scoots near you, “she’s a mess. Aren’t you?” You lean into him as you laugh a little too loud. Suddenly iii looks serious.

“Doll. Before you get too faded…”

You instantly straighten up but shudder because II runs his fingertips across your shoulder blades. “What’s up?”

“Are you joining us tonight…or just spectating?”

This sobered you up instantly. You nearly forgot about the end goal here, watching them together or actually joining them. You took a deep breath and looked at them both for a second as you considered your options for the last time. Finally, you nodded slowly.

“Alright,” a wide smile broke across iii’s face, “shall we?”

Moments later, you were being pushed into the empty elevator with them. II made sure no one else was approaching as iii pressed you into the wall opposite the doors. His wide palm thumped beside your head on the wall, trapping you. You didn’t want to be completely passive tonight. You could just stand there and let him toy as he pleases, but it’s your birthday, and he’s a part of your gift. You lean up and gently tease his lips with your tongue. As he lets out an amused huff, he pulls your face forward in a rough kiss. II hums contentedly as he leans against the wall, just watching. III nibbles and pulls your bottom lip just a bit as he breaks the kiss. “That’s a good girl,” he laughs softly. Suddenly he flings you into ii, who captures your lips with a patient intensity. III’s kiss excited you, but ii’s seduced you. When the lift got to your floor, ii’s pulled away, wiping his mouth and looking you up and down.

“You’re trouble.”

You look back at III as he gently guides you to the room. “Is that a good thing for you two…trouble?”

III rolls his eyes and laughs dryly. “I’m always trouble with him, love,” he says as you enter the room. Seeing the soft lighting and comfy king sized bed helps you get in the mood but it also serves as a reality check. You are here! With your besties! And it becomes even more real when…oh shit.

“You’ve got such a mouth on you,” ii growls as he pulls iii to the bed. “Definition of trouble.” II climbs on top of iii to kiss and suck at his neck. III moans softly as ii marks him, but he reaches out his hand to you. He wants to lay beside him. That’s when you realize you’re staring. Gawping. You slip out of your shoes and slot beside iii with his arm wrapped around you. His hazy eyes wander to yours.

“Come here, good girl.” He whispers. III pulls you to him and your lips meet again. You don’t know what to do with your hands but you remind yourself that this is your gift. Make the most of it. Your hand drifts from iii’s chest to ii’s hair. The urge to stir the pot is too strong. You pull at ii’s hair and wrench him from the crook of his boyfriend’s neck. III breaths out a little “fuck” as you and II make out right above his face. II licks your bottom lip playfully and nudges your noses together.

“Let me take care of him and then I’m all yours, love.”

Loud and clear. III let’s go of you to sit up and take off his shirt; ii follows suit, still in iii’s lap. Their kisses are rough, needy, as if they don’t do this whenever they want. II grinds into iii’s lap and moans. “Fuck yeah…fuck…bite me,” ii murmurs as iii licks a long stripe up his neck. This is the hottest thing you’ve ever seen, and they’re not even naked yet. “Lay back and take your pants off, handsome,” ii whispers. You bite your lip as iii lays back to shuffle out his pants and boxers, his cock springing free. You’re desperate to touch it, to have it in your mouth, but ii beats you to it. He drags his fingertips up the underside of iii’s cock teasingly, relishing in the way he squirms beneath him. “What’s wrong? Squirming away from me?”

“Fuck just stroke it…”

“That’s an idea.”

“You want to…come on just…” iii swipes a hand down his face and grabs for ii’s hand, but it’s slapped aside.

“Hands behind your back. Now.”

III huffs and groans. “Yeah…yeah alright. Fine.” He lifts his core and folds his forearms under his back.

“Looks you have a good boy, ii,” you murmur, finally finding your confidence. II’s smirk makes you want to kiss it right off of him. Finally he starts jerking iii’s cock while staring through you. You’re under his spell, basically eye-fucking him. III is whimpering and moaning pathetically; the only attention he’s getting is ii jerking him off and he keeps looking at you…begging for anything with his blue puppy eyes.

“Babe…babe…take that pretty dres-“

“Don’t tell her what to do,” ii snaps, “it’s her birthday…have some respect.”

III chuckles breathlessly through his moans as ii slows his strokes. “Sorry. Sorry, pretty.” But there’s no love lost, you’re entertained by their dynamic. You roll closer and pepper little kisses on cheek.

“Didn’t take you for a sub, iii,” you whisper. He shrugs as ii takes a little break to fetch something from his overnight bag.

III moves his face to kiss you softly, his cock twitching when you run your hands down his stomach. “I can be…but so can he,” he whispers back, referencing ii. “Switchy, like me.”

Your jaw drops, and a shocked laugh fills the room. “II? Really, hun? You like being thrown around a little…told what to do?”

“He so does. Honestly, one time…with IVy of all peop-“ but iii doesn’t get to finish. II puts his hand over iii’s mouth, muffling his mischievous snicker.

“Runs his mouth too much. Love, show me how you’d shut him up,” ii says with a cocked eyebrow.

You take your cue to slip off the bed and undress. They both watch you in reverence. If iii didn’t have his brat mouth covered, it would have been agape. “II,” you purr, “take your hand off my seat.” II moves his hand, and iii exclaims ‘oh fuck yes,’ as you straddle his face. Since his arms are still tucked behind him, you press your desperate pussy to his mouth. Your palms press into his tummy as he laps at your clit. You can’t help the slutty noises he’s pulling from you. II has slipped out of his clothes and positions himself between iii’s legs. He’s brought a small bottle of lube with him. “Are…are you gonna fuck him,” you ask…or at least try. It’s hard when you’ve got a tongue prying at your slit and two hard throbbing cocks before you.

II squirts the liquid in his palm and pumps iii with a renewed lust. “Hah…no, no. This cock is yours first.” Poor iii doesn’t last long with your pussy gushing against his lips and ii’s deft touches. Your eyes roll back as iii moans into your pussy. “Alright, love, hop off.” You roll off and watch as the two of team meet in a hot, passionate kiss. III undoubtedly stiff arms wrap around ii and hold him like he’s the most precious thing.

“Taste her on me, babe?” iii whispers against ii’s mouth. II nods with a dumb little smile and playfully licks at iii’s mustache. “Alright…hopping in the shower.”

“Aw…but…” you pout.

“I’ll be back, doll. Don’t worry.” III chuckles as he saunters into the bathroom, leaving you and ii on the bed. As if it has to be a secret, you both sit silently until you hear the shower run. II is immediately on you, groping your tummy and breasts as he kisses at your neck. Your eyes roll back as breathy pants leave your lips. Your chest heaves as his mouth greedily works down to your breasts.

“Be a good boy for me…hm?” Your finger gently tilts his chin up. “C’mere…” He’s a goner as your lips rub up against his. They’re so puffy from kissing iii. “You’ve been good haven’t you…waiting your turn…haven’t even touched yourself.”

“Heh, stop,” he saying looking away with the sweetest blush. “Where’d this Mommy act come from, hm?” He peppers your cheek with kisses as he whispers.

“It’s not an act,” you whisper as you adjust his cock to slide in. III got you beyond wet enough for ii, so only a gentle nudge was needed for him to go in fully. II’s head falls forward with a low groan. “Let me see you…” your hand now rests firmly under his jaw, wrapped around his neck. He grins like any subby good boy would when your fingers flex. “There he is…eyes on me…” His eyes are dreamy and hazy as they flutter shut or roll back as his cock twitches inside of you. You squirm a little just to get comfy and enjoy teasing him as your bodies writhe against one another.

“Please,” he whimpers. He’s getting impatient.

“You want to cum so soon?” You question mocking pout.

“I…fuck…I can cum again later. Just please….”

His sweet puppy eyes glisten as he bites his lip, practically whining. His adam’s apple bobs against your palm but he doesn’t break. “Show me how happy this makes you…” He shudders and slowly thrusts. His body wants to slump forward but your grip holds him steady. “You want to cum before he gets back in here? Hm?” II nods quickly and squeezes his eyes shut, the overall excitement from the night and your tight softness overstimulating him. “Heh yeah…just for me and my good boy…I’m going to let go of you now—“

“No please…please keep it there…feels so good…so good for you…” he begs. “Just a little harder…” When you squeeze a little harder, a fire lights in II. He fucks you fast and rough trying to play this little game where you have to finish before iii comes out. His lips form a little pout, dying for a kiss. You can’t resist that. Instead of letting him move, you lean up and capture his lips. He moans against your mouth as the first kiss makes him lose it. You move your hand to let him breathe as he cries out against your chest.

II is still nestled against your chest, and in your pussy, when iii comes out of the steamy bathroom…already rock hard again. “Alright, loves…who’s next?”

#ask wolfie #sleep token fan fiction #sleep token x reader #sleep token x you #poly!vessels #sleep token ii x reader #sleep token iii x reader #sleep token ii x sleep token iii #ii x iii #sleep token smut

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crimsonspectre · 2 days ago

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Belong

summary: You're Lewis teammate and biggest fan

Tags: LW x gn!OC

You can find this in AO3 too

Five months have passed since you’ve become Lewis’s teammate.

They say you should never meet your idol, but in your case, it’s been smooth sailing. Sure, maybe you’ve had some discussions over trivial legal - mostly - moves in racing, and how to forget the time you proclaimed yourself, in a drunken post maiden victory state, his biggest fan, with big sparkly eyes and one too many details, except for one. But so far, meeting your idol has been like meeting an old friend, someone you can picture from memory.

Time brought along Max’s birthday, and the break before the last three races gave the perfect excuse for an over the top party. You were under the impression that Lewis wouldn’t show up, as he was always somewhere else, thus your outfit choice proved incredibly treacherous when the first thing you saw after entering Max’s penthouse was your teammate’s profile. Perfect profile, by the way.

A moment to recolect, you tell yourself. He won’t notice, this doesn’t have to be a big deal. Shit, not even a deal at all. And it better not be, because he’s coming your way.

“You’re late, rookie”

“You should stop calling me rookie already, it’s been months”

“You’re always a rookie in my books” he answers, laughing. You sit next to him.

“I thought you were traveling” you sip your drink, trying to focus on the task at hand.

“You don’t fancy seeing me here?”

You push your weight agains him for a second before answering “Don’t be dumb. I do prefer you in the track were I can beat your ass, but this is nice for a chance”

“Ha! aren’t you cocky. You’re spending way too much time with me.”

------------------------------------

As the moon and drinks went on, your worries started to melt onto the air. There was no time to worry about anything in a place like this, with this incredible ambiance, as you were gossiping in a corner with Max. Two weeks apart came with lots of updates on the finest paddock news.

When Max laughs, moving a little, you caught those eyes. The ones immediatelty shifting to other serious matters. Maybe he was watching? Maybe you’re just very drunk.

Excusing yourself to get some air, you go to the backydard. Strange, no one’s here, with such beauty around to appreciate. So much to be overtaken by the memory of his eyes that seems as permanent as…

“Hey” you startle as a voice calls from behind.

“God, Lewis, you’re gonna kill me one of these days.”

You move a little as his body ask for space to sit, while laughing it off.

“Are you having a good time?”

“Yeah, sure. It’s nice to have a break like this”

He nods, “For sure it’s nice if you’re the birthday boy special person”

You look genuinely confused, and laugh equally as awkward.

“Oh no, I think you’re getting the wrong idea”

He shifts his tone, and his head tilts a litte. “Am I?”

“Uh… yeah, I mean, Max is my friend” you can feel your face growing hotter by the second. What even is this change of air?

He stands, and as subtle as he arrived, he put his hand on your nape. Just his fingerprints, soft as a feather. You can’t help but shiver.

“That’s fine” he breaks the silence, moving his hand in a pattern.

And it hits you. He saw it, didn’t he? You try to say something, buy the subtle touch apparently put you under a spell, compelled only to look at him.

He keeps tracing your tattoo, the one you promised to get if he won his seventh title, back when you were just his fan, and he was just your idol. A nice, delicate 44.

“That’s fine” he repeats, applying the smallest of pressure on the side of your neck “as long as you remember who you belong to.”

#f1 #f1 fanfic #lewis hamilton #f1 fic #f1 fandom #f1 one shot #lewis hamilton x oc #f1 x oc

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the-hinky-panda · 3 days ago

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War of the Roses Series: Part III

Warning: Mention of miscarriages and grief

At first, Bill doesn’t understand why you’ve taken him to a small courtyard that sits between the barn and the small indoor arena. It’s not a large area, just a square piece of grass with a few shrubs and flowerbeds. There is a small area surrounded by a low stone wall that has a bench and three rose bushes planted in the corner. It’s a quiet, thoughtful space that seems out of place with the barn.

But then he remembers something from his childhood. It had been raining for three days, not out of the norm in Missouri. His mother had recently returned home from an overnight hospital stay, and he was under strict orders to keep his twelve-year-old bullshit to a minimum. He then watched his father, the toughest son of a bitch he had ever known, go out into the rain and dig a hole in the garden off the back porch. He remembers how his father’s white t-shirt clung to his back as he planted a white rose bush. He remembers how his mother couldn’t watch from the back porch, and instead curled up in the corner of the couch and sobbed.

It’s a memorial space.

He touches the stone wall as you lead him into the space, says a silent prayer for the sister he never got to meet and the three children you were never able to hold. The somberness saps the fire he had been feeling since watching you sit across from him at dinner. For some reason though, standing there with you, knowing what you’re showing him, it feels far more intimate than the moment you shared in the barn.

“This,” you say quietly, “this is why he hates me.”

“You would think with the lives we provide them, scenery like this, homes like ours, never wanting for anything, they would be motivated to do their actual fucking jobs.”

Was this what Cal was talking about? Three miscarriages, was that reason enough to divorce someone? You gently take his hand and force him to unclench the fist he had made. “How can he hate you for something that’s out of your control?”

You shake your head. “The world is filled with people who hate other people for things out of their control. That’s nothing new, Bill.”

You made a solid point. “He thinks you’re doing this on purpose?”

“He does. He only married me so he could have someone to pass everything onto when he’s too old to manage it himself.” Your thumb fiddles with his pinky ring. “That’s how it works in your world too?”

It should make him uncomfortable that you acknowledge his true line of work but it doesn’t. If anything, it seems to pull you even closer to him. “It is.”

“I know I’m on my way out of this marriage. He needs someone to provide an heir and I’m not that person.” You swipe at your face with the back of your free hand and he realizes you’re crying. “I can’t do that for you either. So just keep that in mind.”

He pulls you close against his side, holding you firmly there and trying to ignore the feeling of just how fucking perfectly you fit there. “There are more important things in life than heirs and lineage. There will always be someone to take over a business, blood related or not.” He presses a kiss against the crown of your head. “You keep that in mind.”

You release a long breath, sinking into him for a moment before standing up straight. He sees the armor being put back into places and it causes something to twinge in his chest. It shouldn’t be necessary but he understands why it is. He takes one last moment, standing in this sacred place, and kisses you gently on the lips.

“You call me if you need anything,” he tells you. “Day or night, promise me you’ll do that.”

You smile slightly but nod your head. “Okay.”

He knows he needs to head back up to the house, that he’s been gone far too long and his guys will want to get on the road soon. But something is telling him to take you with him, to not leave you here. But you’ve survived for the last six years with Cal so he takes some comfort that you can survive another couple weeks before he can make it back to Tulsa.

***

When you go back to the house later that night, you go in the back door and take all the back hallways to the master bedroom to avoid Cal. You strip off all your clothes, bury them under your running clothes from this morning and then stand under scalding hot water for twenty minutes. You reluctantly wash Bill’s cologne from your skin, wash his fingerprints from your body and it feels wrong.

Cal doesn’t love you, he hasn’t from day one. The realization of that hits you full force. He knows of the rose bushes, the memorial garden that you planted there in the only place on the property that felt like yours. Cal hates the horses, never wants to see them or touch them. He flat out refuses to step foot into the memorial garden you planted and care for.

But Bill, who has no stake whatsoever in your plight, came to see the horses, not even knowing you were there. He willingly went to the small garden, stood there, understood the significance of what you were showing him without having to speak the words. He shared that burden of grief with you when your own husband, the father of the lost children, couldn’t be bothered with it.

You need a plan to get out of this farce of a marriage. You turn the water off in the shower and grab one of the towels. Your mind is racing as you dry off. You’ll need money, clothes, a place to stay, a place for your horses. The roses. Somehow you need to take the roses with you. You can’t leave them behind. Cal will forget them. He’ll forget them. You can’t let that happen. You pull on your satin pajamas and walk into the bedroom to a sight that makes your blood run cold.

Cal is in one of the leather wingback chairs in the sitting area of the bedroom, a whiskey glass in his hand. “Did you have a nice shower?”

Your eyes haven’t left the three suitcases sitting at the end of the bed. “Cal?”

“I think it’s obvious our agreement has come to an end.”

“Agreement? You mean our marriage?”

“Is that what you would call this? Huh.” He takes a sip of the whiskey. “I was under the impression that a marriage was between two people working towards the same goal. I told you what that goal was when we married.”

“I can’t…I don’t know…”

“Can you finish a sentence please?”

You take a deep breath and slowly release it. “I don’t know what you want me to do about not being able to carry a child. I can’t control that.”

He finishes the whiskey and sets the glass down on the side table. “What I want you to do is take your shit to whatever other bedroom you wish where you will sleep tonight. Tomorrow morning, you leave with what’s packed in those suitcases. You’ll get the horses out of the barn as soon as possible because they’re going to the knacker by the end of the week.”

Your stomach roils to the point that you bring a hand to your mouth. How are you going to find transportation and a place for your horses in four days? It’s going to cost thousands of dollars and you’re certain Cal isn’t giving you any portion of the estate.

“I’m going to take a shower now and when I walk out of there, I don’t want to see you in this room again.” Cal stands up and walks past you. “And as far as things that you can control goes, perhaps you shouldn’t have fucked my new business partner in a fucking barn.”

#bill bevilaqua x you #bill bevilaqua x reader #bill bevilaqua fic #bill bevilaqua

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montygatorguy · 8 months ago

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i had to go to a long and kinda boring cue-to-cue rehearsal for our schools musical today so to keep myself entertained i just imagined frankie and romeo doing techie stuff while may and juliet were out in the show.

jumeo and maycois are the most actor/techie couples ive ever seen in a musical

#and juliet #amperstan #tech theatre #juliet capulet #francois dubois #may bellerose #romeo montague #i was imagining frankie changing out a dead lamp for some reason #i can’t remember what the other three were doing

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crazysnakey · 4 months ago

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Something something about the Third Doctor and the fate of Tantalus. You're trapped in one place. Everything you want, that you once took for granted is right there in front of you, you can see it you can reach for it but you can never have it. You will never attain it on your own. Your fate is dependent on the mercy or cruelty of others and you hate it and you rage against it but you can’t do anything, your defiance is treated like nothing but a childish tantrum but you refuse to beg, you won’t get that desperate no matter how long you’re trapped here, no matter how low you’re brought down. You stand among humans and you look human but you’re not, you’re an animal in a cage with them and you’re the only one who can see the bars. Gnawing and hacking at them to no avail. And yet all you can do is wait and hope and try and fail in an endless loop until an outside force interferes to free you from your prison. The carrot and the stick. How does it feel to be on the receiving end?

#even when his exile is lifted and he gets his tardis back he still can’t get jamie and zoe back #he’ll never be able to #the doctor’s always lost companions but until that point they’d always chosen to leave #this was the first instance where he lost them #no not lost they were TAKEN from him #the doctor was ripped apart mentally and physically and emotionally #and he has to live with that #knowing that they’re living their lives without him as if nothing happened #(and even in jamie’s case he’s not sure considering Jamie was basically dropped into the middle of a battlefield)#only that he can never see them again #bc they won’t know him they won’t remember any of the adventures the fun the quiet moments spent together #he’s the only one who knows who remembers #and what he can’t bear more than anything is having them look at him with no recognition in their eyes #having them ask him who he is and not reacting in any way when he says “i’m the doctor”#not to mention how easily he was exiled and punished #he triumphed over daleks and cybermen and so many other creatures #but in the face of the time lords he was rendered helpless so easily #they trapped him took his tardis and his connection and his knowledge and his companions away and forced him to regenerate just like that #and now the time lords are aware of his existence and probably keeping an eye on him #in case they need him for anything (aka jobs to do for them)#reduced to a boy put in time out and then an errand boy #doctor who #classic who #third doctor #3rd doctor #my thoughts #wow that’s a lot of tags i’m sorry #i got carried away #i just can’t stop thinking about the tragedy of it all #in two’s ending and three’s beginning and their companions

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tiredsadpeach · 2 years ago

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I don’t think any of my friends would even notice if I just isolated myself lmao

#so I’m gonna do it!!!!#I don’t feel like any of them care anyway #I only have three friends btw no surprise there #honestly it’s a miracle I have any but yknow #it doesn’t matter all but one just continually forget about me even on days they Know are hard for me #and I’m not exaggerating because one sorta checked on me and then I was semi comforting him instead and the other tweeted about hoping I’m #okay but did nothing to actually check on me or anything I’m just a passing thought its like I’m not even there #like a tweet on your priv about me is nothing compared to actually messaging me and checking on me #whatever I’m just a dead flower anyway since I never text first and then I see things where they complain about people that don’t text first #and I get even more self conscious and upset at myself but I can’t do anything about it because when I try lately things go wrong so why try #stop watering a dead plant they say lmao #not like I have trauma that stops me or anything #not like when I had decided I needed help or just someone to talk to it took me hours to finally text #not like I texted first to try and resolve an argument twice lately and you were just even more angry #idk what you want me to do #I just know what I can and can’t do #I haven’t been enough for you this whole year and I know if you leave that he’ll leave too that’s how y’all work #I honestly wanna deactivate my twt but that’ll just piss him off #I just need to live silently until I get the tax money #oh lol just remembered one time when I texted first to try and fix things he tweeted about how he wished he had just killed himself the #night before so he wouldn’t have to have that conversation just then!!!!!!#but no I’m just an awful person because I don’t text first

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daydream-draws · 1 year ago

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#bro💀#why do I have so much accidental rizz I like can’t do this anymore i #am literally aro.spec why does this keep happening to me 😭😭#one of my close friends said they like me I stood there like an IDIOT I feel really bad #I don’t even remember what they said but i #am not gonna see them cause it’s summer so now I gotta like text the #m #but I don’t even know what to say #I don’t think??? I like them back like that #ughhhhhauuughghgh I just wanted a chil #l summer #and I don’t want them to hate me or hurt because of me #this has happened to me THREE times god really chose to make the wrong person aro #im still close w the other two people who have liked me but also I feel like they?.liked me less #one straight up never to #ld me #i figured it out myself #and the other moved on quickly and said they were ok w a platonic date too when #asking me out so I did that #but w the other two there were signs with this one it was just like bam #allo people r making up crushes I believe #day blabs #I need more aro friends

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tonycries · 2 months ago

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My Oh My - R.S.

Synopsis. Trick or treat! The mean ínmate in Room 6/9 doesn’t want halloween candy - he wants something else much, much sweeter.

Pairing. Ryomen Sukuna x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, ínmate! Sukuna, slight foódplay, creampíes, bràt-taming, use of “góod girl”, MEAN softíe Sukuna, PÚSSYDRUNK Sukuna, oraI (fem receiving), fíngering, Sukuna’s piercings and tattoos, dry-húmping, squírting, spítting, bódy worshíp, exhíbitionism, slight Gojo x Reader, pet names, swéaring.

Word count. 6.7k (sigh)

A/N. Yes, the seventh day of k!nktober had to be Sukuna even tho I’m a Gojo-gagger…

“Nanami chill.”

It’s twelve in the dead of Halloween, and Nanami Kento does, in fact, not chill - not when he’s five hours deep into overtime at the most high security prison in all of Japan, running on only three cups of caffeine and the promise of a day off sometime in the next year.

“You know I can’t do that.” he rubs his throbbing temples, heaving out a sigh as he often does. Taking one long look around the glaringly empty surveillance office, “Especially not today of all days.”

You’re humming in flippant agreement, but that only makes the furrow in your partner’s brows deepen even more. “I know I know. But don’t you think the inmates deserve something a lil’ special today? I mean, he-” Pointing at the grainy CCTV footage on your computer screen - showing one, Ryomen Sukuna, in his padded cell. Watching. Waiting. “-didn’t get a single visitor all year.”

And before Nanami can even think to open his mouth, you’re already dusting down your uniform. Grabbing the bowl of candy propped between you two that you’d swiped from the break room.

“Wait-”

“After all, what’s the worst that could happen?”

Now, you’ve always been told that you’re a little softer than most when it comes to your inmates - which perhaps wasn’t the best quality to have when your section was filled to the brim with the most infamous of yakuza and serial criminals. But they respected you. Hell, Nanami loved to roll his eyes at this one but - you think they almost liked you.

Especially Ryomen Sukuna.

You shiver at the long, long list of crimes of his that you had to memorize in your early days - distinctly remembering the way your laptop had crashed with just how far you had to scroll.

Honestly, you weren’t surprised that the most wanted crime boss across the globe wouldn’t get anything other than public threats and a few snarling officers that laugh smugly in his face. Though, you have had to sift out a few perfumed fan mail from time to time.

And even before you’d started this job, you knew of him - who didn’t?

The King of Curses, they called him. And what a king he was.

Some say he was just a crook. Others say he was a beast that seemed like he had four arms and twice the power of any normal human being.

Right before his arrest, the Curses owned half of Japan’s revenue - he was untouchable. With his deceivingly innocent signature pink hair, those circling tattoos all across his body, and the dark, dark bloodthirst to get whatever he wanted. Whenever. And fast.

It’d made international news when he was finally caught - only after a long, agonizing syndicate war between himself and the Six Eyes. It was your first day working here, and you were there to spy it firsthand when he was brought in. Shackles clanking along the metallic prison floor, towering well above the eight officers by his side, being hauled into that specialized cell like some animal.

And, yet, through it all Sukuna was smiling - smiling like he knew something that everyone in this building didn’t.

It still burns into your memory the way he’d stopped right in his tracks for the first time on his way up here, stalling for just a second. Two. Before looking right into your widened eyes, devilish grin only growing at your trembling figure.

Ryomen Sukuna had his eyes on you from the moment those handcuffs locked him in here.

And he still did.

“Hey there, Kuna-” you’re humming after the long, tedious task of unlocking all sixteen padlocks on his heavy metal door. It clamors to a shut behind you with a deafening clang! Locked from the inside. With him. Alone. “How are we doing today?”

Sukuna was sat on the padded floor of his cell, knees brought up to his broad chest. If you didn’t know any better, you’d have said he almost looked like a scolded child - had it not been for the custom-made metal cuffs that restrained him up to his very forearms. A matching leather muzzle drawn tight to cover half of his pretty face.

He was the very epitome of all you should stay away from in this prison.

And, yet, you find yourself walking towards him, carefully trying not to step on the hefty chains of his shackled ankles.

It surrounds you like an iron serpent, clinking lightly when he’s raising his half-lidded eyes to look up at you. “Heh- will it reduce my sentence if I say s’better now that you’re here, brat?”

Sukuna’s deep baritone was husky with disuse, hitching sharply at the end of his sweet little nickname for you. From what little you could make out behind the muzzle, you catch the slow, sultry curl of his plump lips. “Or should I say-” His gaze trickles down to your glinting golden badge, narrowing. “-officer.”

You’re rolling your eyes, “You and I both know we’re past all that, Sukuna.”

“Not past that enough, dontcha think?” he’s cracking his neck with a slight tilt side by side, as if he hadn’t even realized how long he’d been sitting here until you’d wandered your way inside. Cocking his head up slightly at the small glass bowl still clutched in your hands, “Somethin’ sweet from someone sweet f’me?”

“Oh-” you’re sputtering out. He knew exactly what buttons to push to tease and toy with you without even lifting a finger. “-yes, trick or treat! Since it’s Halloween I thought I might as well share the spirit.”

He’s bellowing out a husky laugh that rumbles from deep within his chest, and you have to tear your eyes away from the slight, sinful sliver of tan skin that peeks out at the jostle of his thin cotton t-shirt.

You hated to admit it - but you almost understood exactly why Sukuna got so many fan letters that you had to throw out. A secret you’d whispered to Nanami over break and then never again after he fully ignored you for a week afterwards.

Sukuna takes his languid time stretching out his limbs, and you get the distinctly hot feeling that he’s doing this on purpose. One eye cracked to watch your every jolt when the hem of his t-shirt raises just a bit too high, when his long, long legs nudging lightly against your feet.

You huff, “Well, would ya like some or not? Because I can just give all of it to Mahito in the next cell-”

“Ah, you’re so damn hot when you’re mad.” he grins, and now you know he’s having fun with you. “Fuckin’ demanding, too.”

He’s bringing up his two firmly restrained arms up to your line of vision. “And, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, silly girl, but m’a little ah- preoccupied, here.”

Oh, right.

Shit.

It would’ve been so easy to just move your fingers over to the keys in your backpocket and unlock his handcuffs for the slightest second. So easy to shut his cocky mouth up by doing the very things he knows he won’t goad you into doing.

But you sneak a glimpse up at the camera positioned at the very corner of the room - trained on the hunched over-figures of the two of you - as if to say, “Hey, see, Nanami?”

“Nice try.” And you swear you hear the great Ryomen Sukuna gasp - gasp - a sharp, tiny inhale when you reach out towards the very back of his muzzle. Your fingers scratching up lightly against his silken tresses as you feel for the clasp, letting it fall to the ground in a sad pile. Soft - it’s the first thing on your mind, and the next was how unfairly attractive Sukuna looked without his muzzle. “But you’re not going anywhere.”

He just beams up at you, showing off his slightly sharpened canines. Facial tattoos almost as sinful as the darkened glint in his eyes, “Heh- as if I’d wanna go absolutely anywhere else right now.”

Before you can snap back - or more likely, make a fool out of yourself to his amusement - he cranes his neck desperately upwards. “So? Jus’ gonna stand there givin’ me a pretty view or what?”

Too soon, you’re realizing what he wants.

And too readily, you’re crouching down till you’re eye-level with his greedy gaze. Hastily unwrapping one of the candies, “Open wide.”

Sukuna only grins. “Get closer would ya? M’not a fuckin’ giraffe now, am I?”

Fuck.

Wordlessly, you inch closer.

“Closer. These chains aren’t as long as they look y’know.”

And closer.

“Just a bit more- I don’t bite. Promise.”

And-

“Good girl.”

Before you know it - Sukuna has you exactly where he wants you. Losing your fragile balance to topple over into his awaiting lap, manspread, cushioning your fall. His biceps flex against his restraints, as if some second nature of his wanted to wrap those tattooed arms around your waist.

“I-” you’re gasping, palms gliding over his feeble uniform. Feeling every curve and divot along his hard front- fuck, he felt like a wall of bricks. So toned underneath that fabric, your chin rests softly on the valley between his plush pecs. “I’m so sorry- I didn’t mean to-”

“S’perfect though, isn’t it?” he’s cutting you off, leaning in so close now that you could feel your cheeks heat with each of his feverish puffs of air. The very tip of his nose kissing yours. “Now you can reach me- honestly, why complain when life gives ya lemons, woman.”

Your breath hitches, “I…”

“So? Gonna gimme some of that sweetness?”

You’re still unsure of what’s happening. And all you can do is to wordlessly bring the sweet treat up to his lips, almost flinching when the warm softness of his lips brush up against your fingertips.

And shit, you know what it must look like on the outside, you know that Nanami’s probably halfway through jumping out of his seat at the surveillance office already.

But you really can’t bring yourself to think about that right now - not when Sukuna’s wrapping his rosy lips around your fingers. Eyes drooping shut slowly. Lazily. Lingering longer than necessary when his tongue swipes at the candy.

It all but melts in your hand, and as soon as you’re about to pull back-

“Hold right there f’me now.”

You’re sure if Sukuna’s hands were freed then he’d have claimed a strong grip on your wrist already, because he was just nuzzling his face into your touch. Sighing out, “Can’t have my officer all dirty now, can I?”

His long, pink tongue comes up to just drag along your digits, making you keen at the slight scratch of his soft taste buds. One by one. Each of your fingers. Sucking, groaning.

Smiling at you slyly, he’s dragging his tongue in between your index and your middle finger, slurping up all the sweetened candy from before. “What? Cat got yer tongue?”

“Y-you-”

“Y-y-y-you-” he mocks, baritone voice a few octaves dramatically higher than usual. Through his smirk, Sukuna bites down on the very tip of your index, making you wince at the sharp sting of his canines. “If ya got somethin’ to say then spit it out like the big girl you are.”

He’s so leeringly smug, watching back as you struggle to meet his intense gaze as if it was his favorite show. Oh, how he wants to tease you about that little good girl routine you put whenever you stop by his cell - always smiling, always in that snug uniform that made you look so irresistible, always talking to him so sweetly as if he wasn’t the king of curses himself.

Never in his life would he admit it, but it was so…cute.

And Sukuna half-expects you to jump back this very second, to throw another one of your pouts his way and scamper off back to the safety of your office. He expects you to-

“Kiss me.”

Oh.

Fuck.

That was not what Sukuna expected - never in the hundreds of years he was sentenced to rot in this prison.

But, well, looking down at the way you were splayed out so prettily on his lap - your chin jutting forwards, hands steadied on his pecs, glossed-up lips all pursed for him - how could he ever say no?

In a split-second, he’s kissing you.

And you’re kissing him back and fuck- is it intoxicating.

Sukuna meshes his lips against yours so slowly, savoring. Angling his head just enough to suckle on your honeyed lips, you’re feeling his hips gently buck upwards, drinking up your light groans.

You mewl when he slides his soft tongue between your lips. And that’s when you learn that Sukuna has a tongue piercing, cold and metallic against your lips. He tastes so sweet - exactly like the artificial strawberry from the sweet earlier and-

“Hah-” you’re gasping at the soft clink! of something sweet, something hard being placed all prettily right in the middle of your tongue - the candy. Brows raising, “Isn’t that-”

“So what if it is?” he’s grunting, not letting you part too far away before sitting up even straight to surge his lips against yours. Mellow. Addicted. Sukuna just loved how sweet you were on him - even more so than that godforsaken candy. He’s craning upwards to nip lightly at your bottom lip, “Got a problem?”

You were so pliant on top of him, swiveling your hips down lazily at his question instead of answering. Over and over. And Sukuna almost finds it in himself to taunt you until you answer- before one manicured hand of yours grips his face, letting his sharp jaw slack open.

Only giving the candy a few drippingly wet swirls inside your mouth before spitting - a thick wad of candied spit right onto Ryomen Sukuna’s tongue. Glistening against his piercing.

And he takes it.

Surprisingly, hypnotically takes it.

He groans, eyes rolling to the back of his head when he mouths in that tiny piece of strawberry candy back. You hear the crunch! of it underneath his teeth, kissing you even deeper to show off how he’d swallowed every tiny shard.

Curling his legs around your form, it’s all it takes for his gaze to drop half-lidded, chest panting - heaving - he smiles a dangerous curve of his lips against yours.

Sharp teeth glinting against your own, he chuckles. “I think we’re gonna have a lot of fun, dontcha think, brat?”

You can only take it when he rolls his yearning hips up into yours. You feel so dizzy at the massive outline of his half-hardened cock underneath you - solid, thorough inches girthing upwards against your heated cunt.

“But first-” His teeth bite down on your lower lip, and he pulls. “-think m’gonna hafta hah- teach ya to be a good girl f’me.”

Clang!

All of a sudden, the heavy ripping of metal rings across your dazed head - and Sukuna’s just tearing apart his durable metallic handcuffs as if they were made of nothing but paper.

“What-” you gasp rubs over where the tough restraints had rubbed his skin redly raw, oh he just basks in all your sputtering disbelief. “You could remove it- but- but that was special grade?”

“Ya really thought a pile of trash like that would keep me put? Of course, I could fuckin’ get out, don’t be silly, woman.” He quirks a slitted brow with genuine confusion - almost as if he was offended at the very thought. And before you know it, Sukuna’s throwing away the useless pieces of junk towards a nestled corner of the cell - hitting exactly on the bullseye of that damn CCTV he hated so much. Both of you watch when it topples brokenly to the ground. He hums, low and sultry, “I just hadn’t found a good ‘nough reason until now.”

Almost immediately, his hands are on you. Everywhere. Anywhere.

Coaxing such pretty whines out of you when Sukuna ravages along every inch of your body, large calloused palms kneading down your tits, your waist, grabbing a handful of your ass.

“Ohh- this s’the life.” he groans, all ten of his thick digits squeezing and teasing you. He’s leaning down to nip lightly at your ear lobe, “Almost makes me forget what a naughty girl ya actually are.”

“I’m not-” you answer immediately, but it comes out much more breathless than you intended and both of you know that.

“Oh yeah?” Sukuna jostles the two of you so that you’re fully laid out across his hulking body now, and you’re squirming already - desperately trying to wiggle your hips down to where he was throbbing. To glide the sopping wet place between your thighs down his rock-hard erection. For this, you’re gifted with a branding slap! on the curve of your ass, Sukuna holding you firmly in place. “Doesn’t explain why you’re already s’fuckin’ wet like a slut, my pretty baby.”

You lick up the tattoo on his chin, “But- but Kuna-”

Another needy grind - another smack.

“Now what did I jus’ fuckin’ say?” he hisses, and the primal rasp in his tone just makes you drenched.

And Sukuna notices - of course, he notices. Drunken red eyes widening, oh, he could almost feel how fucking soaking you were through all those clothes. Too many clothes, in his opinion.

Which is why he has one hand fisting furiously at your smart uniform shirt, not a single word or apology uttered before he just shreds it right off your heaving chest.

“Oh my god-” you squeal, your hands coming up to clutch at the tatters of fabric and your badge. And your lips pout out in such a way that makes his cock just twitch, mumbling out stubbornly, “That was my new uniform-”

“S’what happens when ya get too greedy like this.” His knees raise up a bit more to rub your glissading cunt along the very curve of his fat tip. Just dragging your dripping cunt all along his bulging dick, reveling in the sticky schwf! schwf! schwf! of wet fabric. Sukuna gives an impatient tug on the fabric of your pants, “Now get rid of this before I tear that off, too.”

You couldn’t shuffle out of your belt and trousers fast enough. And oh, even that wasn’t enough for Sukuna - dazedly flinging off what remained of your shirt, your bra, before turning his eyes downwards and-

“Oh, good girl.” he whispers at the sight of you in nothing but your flimsy excuse of panties. So soaked - translucent, even - your saturated juices making such a glossy mess at your inner thighs. He can’t help but flick at the tiny bow on your underwear, leaning up to press a soft kiss to your forehead. “Such a good girl, aren’t ya?”

“K-Kuna-” you’re barely even thinking at this point, panting. “Wan’ to feel you–”

He’s tittering a breathy moan disguised as a laugh at this, bringing up a hand to cup your cheeks. “Awww, my pretty baby wants my cock?” he coos, squeezing in two of his thick fingers between your lips.

But if Sukuna was looking for an answer, then he doesn’t wait for it.

A spit-glossed pout finds its way to his lips, mocking your own. And fuck, he was such a little tease. One hand giving your ass another slap! just to watch you whine and pretend that it didn’t make your pussy even more embarrassingly wet - shit, he was having fun. The other pulling out from inside your mouth, delicate strings of spit snap when he’s gliding his coated digits down, down, down-

“Oh-” you tuck your trembly head into the crook of his neck when Sukuna drags his thumb just across your puffed-up pussy lips. Slowly. Tantalizingly.

“Oh?” he huffs out, licking his lips at just how steamingly wet you were inside. So ready for him. “‘Oh’ is all?”

Sukuna plants another lingering smack on your ass, and by now you’re sure by now he’s left the bumpy imprint of all five fingers on your flesh. Tracing between your swollen folds gingerly with just the rounded tip of his finger up and down up and down. He gets greedy.

“Damn brat-” And it’s all the warning you get before he just forces two of his fat fingers into your messily throbbing pussy. Rubbing all around your tightly quivering entrance, “S’what I get for spoiling you too much.”

There’s no hiding from the way he stretches you open so obscenely, having your sloppy hole just gaping around his digits. All wet and cozy inside.

“Oh- m-more-” you mewl.

But he only continues rubbing saturated little circles around your teasing entrance, humming hotly against your lips. “Hmm, dunno. Think we hafta teach you some manners, silly girl.” And each of his fingers were so thick, stretching out the channel of your cunt until your mouth watered. Your body was limp, hips stuttering down softly into his hold - trying so uselessly to fuck yourself back down onto him, as if he wasn’t easily holding you still with just one beefy arm around your waist. “How about a ‘please’ first?”

You scramble to dig your nails into his bulky deltoids, tracing around his circular tattoos peeking out. “P-please!”

“Nuh uh-” he snickers. “No stutterin’”

“Please!”

Sukuna pretends to think for a few syrupy slow seconds. He nips down softly at the sensitive spots on your neck, having you trembling like a feather in his vice-like grasp. “How about a ‘pretty please’?”

And oh, he grins at the way you’re almost on the verge of tears at this point, your pouty lower lip wobbly with effort. Trying so desperately to comply with the demands of your inmate, you buck your hips so that the soft mountains on his palm graze against your clit. Whimpering, “Wh-what if I w-walked away right now, Kuna?”

“My my, resorting to threats?” he’s whispering filthily in your ear. “Now I know you’re bluffin’ woman. Because I hngh- also know-” So smug when he tugs down the soft cotton of his pants just enough to let his achy cock spring free. “That you’re gonna stay n’ beg f’me like the good girl you are.”

And you hated that he was right.

You hated that he was so big.

Hefty girth slapping up onto his abs with a wet smack! Sukuna’s red, rounded tip was so thick that you could feel your thighs clench, swiping up a glossy glide of precum onto his t-shirt. Drip! Drip! dripping along the crevices of his veins and down to his eager balls, those tufts of pink at his base. All his solid inches winked up at you glisteningly in the harsh cell light. Just waiting. Throbbing.

It made your mouth water.

So you finally answer, voice strained and breaking at the very end. “I- I wan’ you really badly, Kuna.” He sucks in a breath when you bat your teary lashes up at him, “Pretty please?”

“My good girl.”

At this very moment, the only other response you get is a sensual, slow drag of his fingers out of your cunt. The exact opposite of what you wanted - because, of course, this was Ryomen Sukuna. You whine, clawing desperately at his wrist to try and reel him back.

But he doesn’t stop. Can’t stop. Almost hypnotized in the way he brings his drenched fingers up into his mouth without a second thought. Sukuna moans at the taste. A glossy trail of your messy slick forms down the corner of his slurping mouth, and he throws his head back with a guttural, “Oh fuck- s’sweeter than any of that hah- candy.”

Ah, that did it.

Only milliseconds later, you’re being spread all flat on the floor with one swift shove of Sukuna’s big arms, panties sliding easily down your shivering thighs. It really doesn’t take much to have your dangling legs splayed out across his sculpted back, his own body shuffling down ravenously to come lips-to-lips with your puffy pussy.

And oh you can feel his smile against your dripping wet cunt, half-lidded eyes boring right up into yours. Long, pinkish tongue lolling out like he was utterly fucked - and if you angled your head just right you could see the way he was deftly spreading both of your swollen folds, the very tip of the hot muscle kissing wetly against your sloppy entrance.

“Shiiiit-” your fingers tangle themselves in his rusty pink hair. Hips jittery and bucking up drunkenly against the cool surface to chase his hot mouth. “Oh- ngh- Love havin’ your m-mouth on me- ngh-”

“Gettin’ all mouthy w’me, huh? Aren’t ya embarrassed to be absolutely ruined like this by a criminal like me?” he huffs out a bout of raspy laughter. “S’all because you decided to be a- fuck- a good- girl f’me, that’s- what.” Struggling to even get out coherent sentences because he didn’t want to part from your pretty pussy. Instead kissing all over again and again-

The bulbous metal stud of his tongue piercing thrashes up so filthily against your hot clit, coating the sensitive nub in all of his heady, swelteringly hot saliva.

And the only time you’re registering Sukuna break away just mere inches is to spit. Once. Twice.

Thumbing across the stream of see-through spit he just grins up at you in a way you knew to be a pussydrunken expression. Glassy eyes almost drooping shut, tiny dimples cratering at the very ends of his lips, the entire lower half of his face covered in a shiny sheen of slick. Drip! Drip! Drip! right onto the middle of your shamefully spread cunt.

“Ya got me thinkin’ I’d wanna live out my entire life sentences jus’ for a taste of this pretty pussy, woman.”

Roughly lapping with his tongue against your clit, each one pulling out crashing waves of white-hot pleasure that make you all but sob when Sukuna unabashedly adds in his fingers past your gummy hole.

“You can take it-” he hushes out uncharacteristically soothingly into your inner thighs, peppering soft, open-mouthed kisses along them. “Take ‘em f’me.”

Sukuna isn’t shy about immediately dragging his fingers along your sopping wet folds. Starting up a ruthless, simpering pace thrusting inside and out of your drooling entrance has you whining.

“Oh.” your mouth slack-jaws open deliriously, and for the second time tonight you feel like you’re being absolutely split-apart on his thick fingers. Splaying out a hand to glide across your tummy, “You- hngh- you already feel s-so deep, Kuna.”

Your words were cracking with a whimper each time he’s delving into your gushing depths. Building you up, wringing you taut with pleasure whenever he picked up the pace. Alternating between harsh sucks on your cunt and the absolute meanest of swipes against the spongy placeholders of your sweet spots.

“Already?” he has the audacity to cackle - cackle right in front of your teary face. “M’barely even f-fingering this pussy n’ you wanna talk about deep- lemme show ya-” He spares not even the tiniest ounce of mercy when hauling your boneless body even closer. Brows furrowing at the knocking of his chin at the very base of your cunt, the way his jaw grinded. Sukuna replaces the hand on your stomach with his own free one, guiding it up, up, up until your eyes widened and you could feel your breath tightening in your chest.

“Here.” Drawing a burning, imaginary line about halfway through - “Here is where my cock s’gonna be so ya better get- better get ready for that, pretty baby.” Looking right in your eyes, Sukuna’s tone is laced with a vicious sort of snarl when he plows on, “Because my good girl s’gonna be able to take it.”

And you’d heard of the type or orgasms that leave you speechless, that leave you so blindsided that you don’t even realize you’re having them.

Because it takes only a few more expert tweaks of Sukuna’s lengthy fingers up against every nook and crevice of your. Scissoring, swirling - round and round until he was dredging up your dizzying orgasm.

“Oh my god- I think I’m-” your words are garbling together pathetically, wet and as unsteady as each jolt of electricity running down your spine. “I’m-”

“Cumming.” he’s cutting through, tugging you by the thighs even closer to make out impossibly deeper with your convulsing pussy. Rolling his eyes, “I know I know, just shut up n’ cum all over my mouth would ya?”

It’s not like you could do anything else.

And - as a little punishment - your grip tightens searingly on his scalp, just dragging your drooling pussy all over his pretty features. Letting yourself gush all down his tongue in a steady trickle while you ride him to your heart’s content.

“Heh- getting so fuckin’- hngh- fucking greedy, aren’t ya?” he mutters out over wet slurps. Still hammering in the pads of his fingers to press up harshly into your bulging sensitive spots. “S’alright. Use me then, use me-”

Your back arches almost painfully, vision tinging with slight black at the edges, and it’s as if you were out of control at this point.

“Now now, what do you think you’re doin’ huh?” he feeds into each of your stuttering, slick glides down into his palm while you come down from your high. Eyes narrowing down at you, “And here I thought you were turnin’ into my- hah- g-good girl. Where are those hands going, huh?”

Shit, you didn’t even realize it at first.

Your hands are wandering so sluttily down to where his thickened base was just twitching in his lap. Aching to wrap your trembly fingers wrapping around him - struggling to even close.

“Oh- oh my god.” your eyes widen after a few sloppy drags of your soft palm down his length. Curving it slightly to the side at the sight of another one of his signature ringed tattoos - right around his fat base. “You have another tattoo here?”

Sukuna clenches his jaw, hips rutting upwards at a sloppy staccato in synchronization with his hands and yours. “Yeah- n’ I already know you love it-” he shudders out, chest panting. “-because I can already feel just how much wetter ya got- shit-”

With all of his almost-inhuman strength, it’s almost too easy for Sukuna to drag your body downwards to his like some silly little ragdoll.

“Kuna–” you’re dragging out in a breathy tone. Your hands shakily tugging on his t-shirt - your mind finally clear enough to realize that he was still fully clothed while you bare and fucked-out already underneath him. “Wan’ this off-”

Smack!

“Forgettin’ your place, aren’t ya, pretty baby?” he growls, but fuck did Sukuna think you looked so utterly gorgeous like this. All pouty and teary, letting out the cutest whines while you waited for him to do exactly what you said.

And, well, he might be the notorious king of curses, the most wanted criminal in all of Japan - but that didn’t mean that Sukuna was any match for you.

“M’only listenin’ because you were so f-fuckin’ good f’me hngh- earlier, brat.” he spits out. Hastily ridding himself of both that paper-thin t-shirt and pants - not tearing, you note with slight disgruntlement. Kissing your ass with another smack of his palm for good measure. You wince when he flicks your forehead, “So ya better not let it get to that pretty lil’ head of yours.”

But fuck, was it so difficult not to.

Sukuna was so mouth-wateringly gorgeous, all sculpted muscle and what looked to be miles upon miles of tanned skin that you just wanted to bite into. And you realize - with a jolt - that when those other inmates rumored he had tattoos everywhere - they weren’t lying. Thick, circular rings that highlight his bulging biceps, those toned thighs as far as your eye could see.

Now you really understood the fan mail.

Smack! Smack! Smack!

Those drippingly wet smacks this time didn’t come from Sukuna’s hands on your ass - instead, it was from calculated, purposeful little slaps of his thick cock onto your clit.

“Heh, as much as I love to have my- ngh! my cute lil’ officer ogling me-” His hand coming up to curl around your throat, forcing you to peer downwards. “-I’d rather you look where it r-really matters, silly girl.”

He sounded so proud - barely lucid already at the very sight of your tight, glistening hole kissing up against his fat tip.

Dragging a thumb down your wet slit to grin at the size difference even further, he purrs, “Yeah…this pussy has been givin’ me a real treat tonight. Might as well give her one back, hm?”

And he’s so big, so full that you can’t even whine out anything coherent when Sukuna sinks into your sloppy cunt inch by fucking solid inch. Pushing past that ring of feeble resistance, your pussy was greedily swallowing up every bit of his massive girth. Letting out the cutest squelches that make him moan.

“Oh- would ya look at that?” he bares his teeth in a devilish smile. Head thrown back at how you’re already clamping and trying to milk him with your velvety walls. “Takin’ me so well, ya really are such a good girl, huh?”

Each and every hoarse little praise is panted raggedly against your ear, and your pussy slides up and down his swollen shaft in a sultry back and forth. And Sukuna just can’t tear his eyes away from the way your cunt swallows him up so greedily - so frantically like you were trying to milk something delicious out of him.

“Kuna- hngh!” your thighs quiver up and down. Hips moving in slow gyrations against how he was rummaging all inside you. “Y-you’re stretching me out so good ah-”

He’s still trying to squeeze inside, still pushing and pushing. Pressing a hand down on your stomach, “Told you I’d be right-” Bottoming out. Hard. “-here.”

Each and every juttering ram into your gooey depths have you keening, and his eyes growing even wilder. Grin curling upwards at how every kiss of the very tip of his rotund cock has your spongy cervix bouncing into him, your walls pulsing where he swipes inside. Looking for-

“Fuck!”

That.

“Heheh- hope ya can take it, brat. Because once I start-” he presses hot peck after peck down your jaw. “I can’t stop.”

You learn very quickly that that wasn’t a threat - it was a promise.

Every plunge into your melty pussy has you almost bawling, because Sukuna wasn’t gentle - no, he doesn’t even ease you into it. The soft curve of his head presses in so harshly against your bulging g-spot, so thoroughly in rough, wet glides. Each single hammer upwards sinking against wherever drove out the prettiest moans from your pouty lips, having you such a shaky mess underneath of him.

Exactly how he’s been wanting you this past year in confinement.

“W-what-” you sputter out, dragging your nails across his neck to mash your lips onto his. Tasting the candy and you and the candy- “This past year?”

Oh. Shit.

“Heheh- did I say that out loud?” Sukuna rumbles, struggling to catch his breath while he swallows back each keened-out whimper threatening to break out from his lips. He gives your tongue a slow, tasteful suck. “Whoops- hah fuuuuck- you see what this pussy does t’me?”

He brings one large hand down to your jittery hips, the other drawing a tender stripe across your still-sensitive clit. That heavenly feeling just makes you clench, and Sukuna to throw his head back with a withering groan. “S’fuckin’ dangerous- you’re more fuckin’ dangerous than me- hah-”

You giggle at the way he was running his mouth now, sentences slurring together like he couldn’t even find the words.

“You see this-” he pants, so sensitive that Sukuna can’t help but tuck his face into the crook of your neck. And you feel the burning flush of his cheeks, the way he brings your hand up to pat his plush pec, thumping thunderously underneath his heated skin. “-got me fuckin’ crazy here- ngh! M’on my knees for you n’ you’re all here actin’ like such a good girl.”

As he babbles, Sukuna actually falls back onto his knees.

Dragging you right along with him to spearhead his cock vertically into your snug channel, his powerful thighs are thrusting up, up, up-

“Oh-” You’re wrapping your arms tightly around his neck when faced with another stinging smack! And this time he takes the opportunity to roll his fat thumb even deeply against your clit. “S’so-”

Sukuna’s eyes were half-lidded now, grumbling out little profanities into your mouth. “What? Can’t even speak now?” He chuckles - but it sounds higher-pitched, breathless like he was fucking losing it. “Doesn’t- ngh- doesn’t matter- this cunt is speakin’ ‘nough for the both of ya. Why dontcha act like my good girl n’ ask what she’s sayin’?”

God, your face burned with such mortification - and it’s all you can do to dart a bleary look towards that smashed CCTV camera once more. Gulping out a breathy, “Wh-what is she ah- sayin’, Kuna?” over those deafening squelch! squelch! squelches.

He positively beams, “She’s saying…” Nipping down on your lower lip, tasting that familiar strawberry on your tongue. “-that right about now she’s gonna cum.”

And sure enough, a particularly harsh clashing glide across your g-spot has you sobbing, has you twitching - it has you cumming. Over and over all over Sukuna’s relentless cock, and not just that-

“Shit, woman.” Sukuna stares, jaw-dropped in awe at the absolute mess your overwhelmed cunt was gushing out. Coating his erratic thighs in a wet gleam of all your juices, it seeps into his skin, dripping down the curve of his legs and onto the padded floors. “Fuckin’ squirted all over me, you’re fuckin’ ah- unreal- fuck–”

If he couldn’t maintain that gruff tone of it that’s because he was genuinely in heaven. Mouth watering, achy cock twitching up into the cushiony sides of your walls once.

Before he’s shooting such a sloppy load into your already-messed-up pussy, dumping out thick volumes of seed again and again. It sloshes in all over your insides with every quivering wave of your own orgasm, seeping out from the edges of your sopping slit. Slobbering. Overspilling.

Sukuna grunts, feeling you shift gingerly up and down to milk each of his stringy ribbons of cum, leaving sinful dredge after dredge that paints a creamy white ring around his base.

“Fuckin’ wastin’ it-” he’s jeering, plugging in one of his indexes into your already fully-stuffed entrance. “Better keep that shit all inside- m’not gonna let my good girl waste it, m’kay?”

“Mhm.” you nod, your drowsy body leaning heavily into his. And Sukuna wraps both his strong arms around you to just pin you to his body. “Might jus’ be the best Halloween I’ve ever had-”

“It fuckin’ better be or so help me-”

SLAM!

“Yo, King of Curses~” both of you snap your heads over to the sudden intruder that’d just crashed the bolted cell door open. He was tall, enveloped by the harsh light from behind - but you could make out those features anywhere. Any guard in this prison could. Throwing over a heavy leather jacket Sukuna’s way, “I tried to wait until your pillowtalk was over but Nanamin can only hold off the bastards on morning shift for so long. So ah chop chop, Suguru’s already waiting for us.”

Gojo Satoru.

Leader of Six Eyes, foe of Ryomen Sukuna.

Looking at you like he wanted to positively devour you, “Or, well, if your cute lil’ officer’s coming, too, then we could continue this when we get back to the hideout. Don’t you think, sweetheart~”

And Sukuna, oh Sukuna was scowling ever so slightly at the other’s words - but he only had eyes for you. “So, whaddaya say, brat?”

---

In the hazy haven of the surveillance room, Nanami lets out a deep shudder. Head thrown back against his leather chair, he takes a few bleary moments to collect his breath.

“Fuck…” he groans, placing that small handheld camera monitor on the table. A secret one. One that no one working in this prison building - and least of all you - knew about. All of that had been an accident, really - an unintentional part of the plan. But the way that Nanami has to drag his boxers upwards, zipping his uniform pants back up wasn’t.

Taking a steadying gulp, he throws away that soiled tissue. Fingers punching in a few numbers on his phone, all according to his rehearsed script. “Yes, hello?” watching the monitor unwavering. Unsurprised. “We might have a situation.”

A/N. *BAM* hits you with random plottwist.

Plagiarism not authorized.

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