#i can't decide who did and who didn't though

[yinyuedijun]

HI CARROT (may I call you carrot?), thank you so much for the very kind feedback on this fic 🥺💗 I am so very glad that we exist in the same timeline where you decided to give this very silly piece a chance!!!

thank you for taking the time to write out your thoughts in such detail!!!! I can't help but respond to some of your observations, in particular the comments around hypersexuality and sex work. hypersexuality is a topic that is heavily nuanced imo. though it can of course be an uncomplicated behaviour for a lot of people (and it is usually depicted as such in fanfic - which imo is totally fine!), It is irl also a behaviour that is often coupled with self-esteem and safety issues irl and can actually be a pretty severe trauma response. I was trying to get at those aspects of hypersexuality within this narrative and I'm very glad that your interpretation of this fic kinda matches that!

SIMILARLY I do think sex work is equally complicated. despite the glamorous representations in fiction (and sometimes reality), I absolutely agree that it is often just a means to an end. BUT I still wrote this with the knowledge that the industry is often entangled with trafficking and exploitation and psychological stress. I wanted the reader to basically be somewhere in the middle of all that context - she has been exploited but she is also a hustler within her own right nowadays (as much as suo allows her to be lol) and I'm very happy that at least some of my efforts were apparent here. I'm especially glad to hear that you felt it was thoughtful representation even from your pov as someone who's researched and worked a lot in the field!!!! I've never studied any of this formally (I'm just going off informal research and limited personal experience) so I super appreciate your feedback!

ALSO. your point about the asian parenting floored me because I didn't write this couple with that dynamic in mind, BUT I too am asian and was raised with pretty traditionally minded parents. i totally agree with the parallels you are drawing here and can't help but wonder if that was some of my personal experience and ideas of love coming thru in the fic lol... thematically it also makes sense because suo and mc had tenuous parental figures (they lost the best one they had) and really did have to start parenting each other after their master's death. so even if it was not a conscious decision to write tiger parenting... I do think you are speaking facts here LOLOL

If I could, I'd respond to all your other super thoughtful observations (THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THEM ), but I fear I will bore you with all the yapping. so I will just reiterate that I endlessly appreciate your comments and can't thank you enough for them. I will definitely be returning to them on rainy days when I feel like quitting writing haha. thank you for being so encouraging!!!

SENDING U LOVE !!!!!

TOKYO VICE | part 2

“Do you remember,” Suo begins, voice light, “how our master always talked about how important it is to engage with each other’s feelings?” You tense. “No,” you blurt out, and Suo laughs. “Of course not,” he plays along. “You were always so terrible at it. But I've been doing a bad job too, lately. So”—he reaches beneath your dress, hooks your thong with his fingers and starts pulling the fabric down your sticky thighs—“I wanted to have an honest conversation with you.” (Or: Tired of your lies and self-deception, Suo takes matters into his own hands and forces the truth out of you.)

12.8k words. suo x fem reader. deeply unserious yakuza au ft. yandere suo. mostly unrepentant smut, comedy, angst. warnings: sex work. nsft tags: afab reader, emotional sex, fingering, dacryphilia, orgasm denial, pussyjob, just the tip, creampie. suo is mean and makes you cry but there's no degradation, he's just a bastard lol. he also manhandles you a lot and you sit in his lap. dividers by @/cafekitsune!

part 1 here

You're surprised at Suo’s indifference to your sex life.

A month has gone by, and he’s made no comment on your habit of sleeping with customers, nor on the hours during which you come home—which are now even later than usual, since you have express permission to sleep with people and have no need to rush back to the penthouse after your ‘appointments’. And it isn't as if he's ignoring the reality of your late nights either. In a stunning show of respect for your personal freedom, he now actively offers to arrange for someone to pick you up from whichever love hotel you'll end up at. (You always decline, of course—if you're going to pretend to be his wife, you'd rather pretend to be a faithful one.)

Ironically, you had initially thought that Suo’s approval wouldn't matter either way. You had found the sex with your clients to be so uninspiring that it made you miss celibacy, so you were planning on stopping. But it turned out that you were deeply affected by the experience of sitting in Suo’s lap as he talked about his expectation of deciding whose cocks you should be allowed to take. It did something horrible to your sex drive, and thus you turned to work as your only outlet.

You spent around three weeks desperately trying to find a customer to satisfy your urges—or at the very least, to fuck you in a way that could get you to stop thinking of Suo whenever you got even a little horny. You were faced with utter failure in this pursuit, and in the end, bleakly resigned yourself to the reality that your shameful attraction to your best friend is incurable. You’ve now given up on the love hotel visits and simply take care of your needs with a vibrator instead. At least this way, you can actually say Suo’s name while you cum, rather than constantly reminding yourself to say your customer’s name instead.

The freedom of letting yourself fantasise about Suo has been exhilarating, but terrible for your friendship. It’s just difficult to sit across from him at breakfast and act like you haven't touched yourself at the table while he was gone, fantasising about what it would be like if he bent you over it and fucked you dumb. But you are a decent actor—hostessing demands that of you—so you don't think Suo has caught onto your carnal desires for him. Hopefully, he never will.

Another couple of weeks pass like this. Things are so calm that you come to believe that Suo is genuinely fine with you having some degree of sexual freedom, at least at work. This, however, turns out to be nothing short of naïvete.

After all, Suo is never forceful when he's upset with your decisions—but he also never fails to redirect them.

One spring evening, you show up at the kyabakura and are told that you’re only to see one customer tonight, and that it will be a private session.

“But we don't do private sessions here,” you say, blissfully unaware of your imminent suffering, “and we don't even have private rooms at this establishment.”

To this, your mamasan responds that the club is making an exception for this one guest, and that this guest has rented out the rooftop bar just to see you. When you ask just who this person might be, a look of mild panic flashes through her eyes. She grabs you by the shoulders and tells you to be careful. Just keep him happy and go home after, okay? she says. Don't go out for drinks, and definitely don't go to any love hotels. Don’t tell him your real name at any cost. You don't want to involve yourself with a man like him.

A sense of dread fills you as you step into the elevator.

A cool breeze greets you when you step onto the rooftop patio. Normally bustling with a raucous crowd, it almost feels eerie in its emptiness. Aside from the glow of the red light district beneath you and the city skyline in the distance, the only light is coming from the candles lighting one of the booths.

Your anxiety intensifies as you approach it.

You aren't very surprised at the sight of Suo lounging on a leather couch, dressed in full criminal regalia—infamous eyepatch, tassel earrings, and all. Sakura once mentioned that this club is connected to some colour gang, so you figure that the manager likely recognized Gui Yanzhao on sight. He probably suffered a minor angina when he did. The mamasan herself has no criminal ties to your knowledge, but she was probably informed that one of her girls was to entertain a high-profile yakuza, and she was likely worried that you'd been maimed in the process. Gui Yanzhao has a bit of a reputation for being a sadist, after all.

While you appreciate her concern, it is not Suo’s history of violence that scares you, but his history of antagonising you. On good days, there's nothing that delights him more than seeing you flustered or off-kilter. On bad days, there’s nothing that consoles him like spiteful retaliation against whomever's managed to piss him off—and you have, without a doubt, managed to piss him off.

You groan as soon as you see him, fearing the worst for your mental health.

“What are you doing here,” you say, and Suo smiles.

“Oh? You're not happy to see me?”

“No,” you moan. “How are you even here right now? Aren't you worried about being assassinated or something? Who did you terrorise to get an entire rooftop bar to yourself?”

“I have a very cordial relationship with all the major organisations on Keisei Street and was promised immunity during my visit tonight,” Suo says neatly. “And I didn't terrorise anyone. I simply walked into this fine establishment and politely asked for a private space to enjoy with my preferred hostess.”

Neither of you need to mention that the sight of the tassel earrings alone would be enough to terrorise someone. The manager probably felt like he was being extorted just from being on the receiving end of Suo’s smile. Actually, you currently feel like you're being extorted too.

You spend a good few moments giving him a look of open distress, to which he smiles.

“You know,” he says, “for a top-ranking hostess, you're not showing much hospitality right now.”

“Oh, for the love of—”

You force yourself to stop, remembering that you are, in fact, at work. Despite your mixed feelings about your industry, at the end of the day, you pride yourself on your work ethic. You take your job very seriously, and your job right now is to entertain your customer—even if said customer is your fake yakuza husband who is toying with you as a cat would a mouse.

Resigning yourself to a night of probable humiliation (one of Suo's greatest passions in addition to lying for comedy), you walk over to sit yourself next to him. And just like in Red Dragon’s lounge, Suo overturns the decision by pulling you into his lap. Your eyes go wide as he settles you on top of him—because unlike the intimate space of that crime scene, this is expressly forbidden behaviour at your club.

Also, unlike that other night, you are currently wearing the shortest dress imaginable and the tiniest thong you own.

You find yourself shivering as Suo's hand settles on your lower back, which is fully exposed thanks to the cut of your dress. You try not to focus on the calloused press of his fingers against your bare skin, but this is an exceedingly difficult endeavour, as his touch has been featured in your sexual fantasies for the past several weeks. Worse yet—your dress is now riding up your ass, and your thong isn't doing much to cover you. Whatever material his pants are made of—light, delicate—feels incredibly good against your thighs too.

If this continues, you might cum on the spot.

“Wait,” you say, and Suo raises a brow.

“Oh?”

“You aren't supposed to touch the hostesses here.”

He smiles. “I'm sure this place might be able to make an exception for me. But only if you are personally willing to, of course.”

“...”

Making an exception for him, in your current situation, would be among the worst decisions you've ever made. But after two of the most sexually frustrating months of your life, you’re ready to make horrible decisions.

“Fine,” you say. “But you better not cheap out on the drinks. The mamasan will only overlook this if you make it worth our while.”

“Of course,” Suo says. “Though I think she’d overlook a lot of things for me regardless.”

Suo makes good on his promise and orders a great deal of alcohol. All top shelf, of course. He laughs that his goal is to bring you to the number 1 ranking with his patronage alone tonight. It’s a hideous display of wealth.

As you pour him an absurdly expensive drink (a Hibiki 30 year-old blended whiskey), you reminisce on how little money you both used to have as teens. He had to be so careful with his wallet whenever he felt like visiting you—or rather, checking in on you—at work. Especially after your master passed. The two of you were very good about staying financially independent, but there was something comforting about your master’s promise to support you if anything ever happened.

With him gone, you and Suo had only financial paranoia and each other.

You guess that might have affected Suo more than you thought. Perhaps he didn't join the yakuza to spite you, but to support you. Certainly, he seems to enjoy spoiling you right now—treating you to drinks that would easily clear a year of his salary as a teen, buying out an entire night of your time at a high end club, renting out a whole floor just so that he can have you to himself. When you point out that his tab must be getting catastrophic, he only laughs.

“I did always say that I wanted to spend money on you,” he recalls. It had been a running joke during your days at the girls’ bar, when you scolded him for paying 3000¥ per hour just to visit you. You hated that he was wasting money on the red light district; he always replied that it wasn't a waste, because it was money spent to see you.

You feel your stomach flutter at the comment. You didn't think he'd remember words from so long ago. As a teenager, you had a tendency of clinging onto small, inconsequential moments with him because they brought you so much joy. You’ve always assumed he would have forgotten them, writing them off as instances of shallow teasing—but if he remembers, then surely they meant something to him too?

This would all make you feel sentimental if you weren't outrageously horny.

Suo has kept you on his lap the whole evening, even as you pour him drinks. Every movement to serve him has you involuntarily rubbing on his thigh, and you're quite certain at this point that he's been lifting your skirt up inch by inch with every casual touch on your waist. You don't bother accusing him of it, though. He'd just give you an innocent look and say that it was an accident. What a horrible man.

Accident or not though, it doesn't change the fact that your nearly bare cunt is pressed right against him. You keep trying to shift positions to pull down your skirt or lift yourself off him, but each attempt only makes it worse—brings the soft fabric of his pants right against your pussy, or makes your clit drag against his thigh, with only your thong separating your bodies. You try to suppress your arousal, but to your overwhelming horror, you can't seem to control yourself. You feel yourself getting wet, folds quickly becoming slick as you’re forced to grind on him. Your body, already warm from all the cocktails and shots, grows even hotter as you squirm on his lap.

In a desperate move to regain some control, you fully get up to reach for another drink. But then you feel a pair of hands on your waist, and Suo pulls you back onto his leg—this time forcing you to straddle it. You can't help the whimper that leaves you as your dripping cunt is spread and pressed against him, your clit throbbing against his thigh.

You pray that he doesn't notice the noise, so of course he does.

“Hm? Is something wrong?” Suo’s hand drifts over your waist and down to your thigh, where it ghosts over your bare skin. He leans in, and his voice is silky as he speaks into your ear: “You're moving around a lot. Do you need to get up?”

He’s giving you an out. It's quite considerate of him, as staying like this would not be a good decision. But for better or worse, you have a tendency to make bad ones.

“...no, I'm fine.”

“Good,” he says. “Let me know if you’re uncomfortable at all. I'm happy to move if you'd like.”

As if demonstrating, Suo shifts the leg you're sitting on, directly rubbing it against your core. You try not to shudder, feeling yourself get even wetter, clenching around nothing.

Trying to ignore how empty you are, you grasp for other topics of conversation, something to distract you. A little scrambled from the alcohol and catastrophically aroused, you of course land on the one that's been making your sex drive unmanageable.

“Remember a month ago,” you say, “how you talked about choosing who gets to touch me?”

“Yes.” His palm is warm against your thigh. He isn't moving it, so there's plausible deniability, but the amused tone of his voice suggests that he knows what he's doing. “Does that bother you?”

Of course it should bother you. It's a level of control that's appalling even to your anxiously-attached ass. But it’s also making you wetter right now. You try not to cry—from misery or sexual frustration, you're not sure.

“Well, yeah. Come on, Suo—even you should know that's really weird of you.”

“I do,” he says, smiling like he isn't admitting to deranged behaviour. “But how else am I supposed to know you're safe? Or even aside from being safe—if your needs are being met.” His hand runs up and down your thigh before settling at the hem of your dress. “I wouldn't want you to go unsatisfied. Who knows what kind of people you'd seek out if that happened.”

You actively stop yourself from putting your face in your hands. The gall of him saying this after forcing you into extended celibacy is beyond words, especially as you're being forced to rub up on him, effectively ruining every attempt you've made not to think about him sexually for the past several years. There are many materially consequential reasons for your decision to not fuck Suo—you should not be soaked through your panties, your thighs sticky with need, as you sit on his lap.

“That's,” you say lamely, “not very normal of you.” Trying for a less sensual conversation, you go for the reliable topic Sakura’s romance radar: “Also, if satisfaction was your concern, why did you choose Sakura? I love that guy a lot, but he has literally no experience. And I think he'd blue-screen trying to keep a friend with benefits. You know he can't handle a fuckbuddy.”

You are not trying to be mean. What Sakura objectively needs for his first time is someone sweet and emotionally competent and, most importantly, not an absolute freak like you. This is a failure of your character, not his.

You can hear Suo’s smile in his reply: “I don't think you're giving him enough credit.”

“He has the social skills of a feral cat.”

Suo genuinely laughs. “Sure, when he first came to Makochi. But he's much better now. Plus, you have no room to talk. I mean”—his breath sweeps over your ear—“you used to be pretty wild yourself. I've just domesticated you is all… though you've been misbehaving lately.”

His words do something horrible to you. Trying to distract yourself from the mounting sexual tension, you turn to him to give him a biting retort, but you're abruptly stopped by the look in his eye. Distinctly hungry and unrepentant in its desire, his gaze roams openly and shamelessly along the curves of your body.

You feel like you're being eaten alive.

Plenty of customers have looked at you in such a way when you wear this outfit, but none have had this effect on you—which is to say, making you clench immediately.

You try not to cry. You actually will cum on the spot at this rate, and you don't think you could be subtle about it. You're barely keeping it together right now, with how your pussy keeps fluttering and dripping. Coupled with the way that the alcohol is melting the edges of your self-control, you're shocked you haven't at least moaned yet.

In a last ditch effort to save your friendship, as well as your rental (house arrest) situation, you slap a hand over his mouth.

“Stop that.”

Suo laughs. He grabs your wrist, lifts your palm away. “Why?”

Why? Because if you keep talking like that, I'll bend over and start begging you to fuck me! you think. But even in your inebriated, horny state, it feels like a poor idea to admit this aloud. You end up saying, “Hostesses aren't paid to flirt like this. Strictly speaking, we’re paid to be conversational partners.” You frown at him. “You're breaking a lot of club rules right now.”

This reprimand backfires on you, as you are suddenly filled with intrusive thoughts of breaking every single rule in this establishment with Suo, including the ones preventing you from climbing on top of him and riding him raw. You squirm at the thought, wishing you could close your legs rather than making a mess of your underwear (now a lost cause), but Suo’s grip stays firm on your waist.

He, himself, is unbothered by your scolding. “Okay,” he says simply. “Then I won't speak to you as a hostess. I want to speak to you, seriously, as a friend.”

His smile is so disarming, it makes you nervous. But he sounds earnest enough for you to be curious, and anyway, you're desperate for something to distract you from your wet cunt.

“Alright,” you acquiesce, “What do you have to say, as a friend?”

“I just have one question.”

“Sure. Shoot.”

His hand comes to rest in your thigh again. He leans in, breath so hot against your ear that your heart jumps.

“I can accept that you wanted to see customers just to satisfy your urges. But tell me why you didn't come to me first.”

You freeze up. Look at him, wide-eyed.

“Wh-what?”

Suo just smiles. Looks so fucking innocent you wonder if you misheard, but his voice is sharp when he replies: “Let me put it another way. Why have we never slept together?”

For some reason, you’ve never thought that he'd ask you this question point blank, even though you've asked it to yourself many times. It takes you several moments to piece together a response, during which Suo’s expression turns distinctly wicked. A sign that he smells blood.

“Why would you think we would have?” you ask carefully.

“Because we’ve both clearly thought about it. You especially.”

You try to keep a straight face. “No I haven't. I don't know what you're talking about.” You raise a brow. “How would you even know?”

“Because,” he says, hand inching up your thigh, “you’re so wet that I can feel it.”

You're mortified.

Shame floods your body, first because of the accusation, and then because you know it's true. You were tipsy enough not to think about this, but now—sobering up from sheer panic— you're acutely aware of how you've soaked through the fabric beneath you. Something that Suo had certainly known, and chose to encourage.

What a horrible man.

When you don't reply, he tilts his head. “Don't tell me you haven't noticed. Do you want me to show you?”

His hand is moving so slowly, you know he's giving you another out. You could easily get off his lap. You could even slap him and call him a sleazy drunk and grouse at him to go home. You could forgive him in the morning for coming onto you and say he'd obviously made an inebriated mistake, as opposed to a very calculated decision. Your friendship would stay mostly intact. His grip on you might tighten, but that would be fine. You would still get to stay with him.

And that's all you've ever wanted. Just to stay with him.

But you're so wet, so empty, so aching. You want to be touched. You want to be touched by Suo, and only by Suo. You want to be fucked by him, to be owned by him, to be ruined by him. You’ve wanted it so badly and so long that you can't even remember when it started—only that you want it to end.

So instead of moving away, you sit there and endure the humiliation of getting your cunt inspected by him.

Suo hums as he opens your legs. You suppress a whimper as a finger moves along your folds, at the noise it makes as it runs through your slick. “Look, you’re so wet,” he murmurs into your ear. He finds your clit—swollen, neglected, and you whimper as he starts to draw slow, lazy circles around it. “Poor thing.”

“It’s only because you had me grinding on you the whole night,” you say through gritted teeth. “It doesn't—ngh—doesn’t mean I’ve been wanting to fuck you.”

You sound pissed enough that you'd convince anyone else, but you know, even without seeing his face, that Suo can tell you're bullshitting.

“You’re not a good liar,” he remarks. A fine teacher even when humiliating people, Suo can't help but add, “If you have to tell a lie, at least come up with a believable one.”

“What makes it unbelievable?” you reply, words clipped off by a sharp inhale as he starts rubbing your pussy.

“Well,” he starts nonchalantly, as if he isn't toying with your cunt, “after you were targeted in that succession conflict, I put hidden cameras in the area, and also in our suite.”

Your eyes go wide. Even in your aroused state, the implications are making you panic. “You—you what?”

“It was for security purposes,” he dismisses casually, as if he's not admitting to a serious invasion of privacy. “Only near the front door and the common areas. I just wanted to catch intruders and any suspicious behaviour from my men. But imagine my surprise”—you feel his fingers start to press into your cunt—“when I instead caught you fucking yourself on the couch and moaning my name.”

You’re mortified. Humiliated. Mind racing with every instance you were horny and stupid enough to touch yourself in a common space. You think about yelling at him about the cameras, but then you feel two fingers sinking into you, and now you aren't thinking about much at all.

Your mind goes blank as you're stretched open by him. Your cunt is so wet, so empty, but the feeling still makes you whine. Your brow furrows, and you give him a pleading look. Slowly, please.

“Don't worry,” he says in a soothing tone, “I know you can handle this. I've seen you take much bigger. Though”—he shifts, pulls you so you're in between his legs, and now you can feel the length of him against you, hard and aching and huge, what the fuck—“maybe not big enough.”

You tighten around his fingers as he grinds against you. You want him inside you so badly, it hurts. Suo laughs when he feels your desperation, and he sounds so amused that you can't help but feel ashamed. But even more than shame, you feel aroused. You take the rest of his fingers easily, down to the knuckle.

“What the fuck, Suo,” you eventually manage through your panting, though not with much bite. “You weren't—ahh—meant to see any of that.”

“Sorry,” he says, sounding deeply unapologetic. “If it makes you feel any better, I didn't watch much, and I deleted all of it. I didn't need to see that to know you have feelings for me.”

You tense. “What feelings?” you ask, and Suo stops. He pulls his fingers out of you—you breathe sharply at the loss—and manhandles you until you're straddling his lap. Forces you to look at him, into his one eye. It's knife-sharp, brutal, but familiar. You don't struggle, nor do you feel uneasy.

But you do feel like prey.

“Do you remember,” he begins, voice light, “how our master always talked about how important it is to engage with each other’s feelings?”

Fuck.

“No,” you blurt out, and Suo laughs.

“Of course not,” he plays along. “You were always so terrible at it. But I've been doing a bad job too, lately. So”—he reaches beneath your dress, hooks your thong with his fingers—“I wanted to have an honest conversation with you.”

He smiles at you. Actually looks kind and even sounds earnest. What a fucking sociopath. You allow him to slide your underwear down your legs, kicking them off. Now your pussy is completely bare to him, and you can hear the way his breath stops as he touches it again. Three of his fingers push in this time, and you pant openly at the stretch, leaning against him as your body trembles from the stretch. He flexes his fingers experimentally, watching your reactions—your whimpers, your sighs, the way your eyelashes flutter when he brushes that one spot inside you.

“I’ve always had feelings for you,” he starts, using that nonchalant, delicate tone—the specific one that suggests danger, “and I know you’re too smart to have missed that. I’d be fine with it if you didn't return them, but you do.”

“I don't,” you protest, and then his fingers curl and press into your g-spot. You're cut off immediately, gasping at the sudden wave of heat in your belly.

A hand comes up to your chin. He forces you to look at him. “I said I wanted to have an honest conversation, remember.”

“I–I am being honest, I—” Your voice breaks as he starts pumping his fingers. It's slow, gentle, but precise. Tension builds in you at an alarming rate, your thighs getting as slick and messy as his hand. You bury your face into the crook of his shoulder, breathe in his cologne and gasp into his skin, and your mind goes hazy from the euphoria of his touch. Sure, you've hugged Suo before, been held by him before, and god knows you've been touched like this by a ton of other people before—but it feels different now. It feels different when it's Suo who's touching you, different when you’re this close to him while he's drawing all this pleasure out of you. When one hand feels so good inside you and the other one is holding you so intimately.

“Suo,” you whimper, overwhelmed by hot tension in your belly, “I-I’m close, I’m close, oh fuck—

He stops.

Before you can comprehend what's happening, he’s withdrawing his fingers, and all the heat in you is melting away. Your orgasm lost, you come down from your high—nerves frayed, emotions taut.

“Suo,” you say, “what the fuck?”

He gives you a smile. It almost looks nice. “I'm not letting you cum until you tell me the truth.”

You’re going to cry.

You're so wet, so empty, so desperate, and now you feel oddly afraid. You don't like the way he's staring you down. You don't like this line of questioning, this bullshit of engaging with other people's feelings. You’ve never liked it. But you need—need—him to fuck you. You need his fingers inside you and you need to cry into his neck while you finish.

You say, very quietly, “Please, Suo.”

“Please, what?”

It's funny. You've performed begging and crying and submission for countless clients, sometimes during annoyingly rough sessions. You've done it for years. But nothing has ever felt so humiliating as this moment, when you ask your best friend, in the smallest voice possible, “Please touch me.”

“No. Not until you start being honest with me.”

Suo's mouth curls at the devastated look you give him. You hardly even notice that he's adjusting you, having you straddle his thigh again—this time, facing him. You don't register it until your cunt is pressed into the wet spot you left earlier and he's saying, “You can move if you'd like. But I'm not touching you.”

“You’re fucking horrible,” you say with all your heart, but your pussy is throbbing and you're desperate for release. So you finally do what you were desperately trying to stop yourself from doing the whole night—you start grinding on him. Like a fucking animal in heat. It's embarrassing, especially because his leg feels so good against you. The friction on your pussy makes you pant, your eyes squeezing shut as your clit finally gets some pressure. It makes up for the way he’s looking at you, which is sly, handsome, and rage-inducing all at once.

“You really do need to be touched,” he remarks softly. “You said your customers satisfied you. Was that true? Did they properly fuck you?”

“N-no,” you gasp. Your mind feels so cottony now that you're getting some relief. You can barely think, and definitely not enough to lie. “It was—it was—fuck, I never came.”

He hums, satisfied. “There—see? Telling the truth isn't so hard. You can do it again.”

He sounds so condescending. You would ordinarily hate it, but for some reason, it's going straight to your pussy right now, making you drip so much you know you've ruined his pants. You’re getting close, too, just by rubbing yourself on his leg. It doesn't feel quite as good as when his fingers were in you, but it’s something. And it’s making it hard to focus on what he's saying.

“It’s fine if you can't be honest about your feelings,” Suo continues. “Let's assume you're telling the truth, and all you want to do is fuck me. Why haven't you?”

You try to answer him, but you can't. You're too focused on the roll of your hips against his leg. There's too much tension, too much heat. You melt against him again, breathing heavily into his shoulder as you tighten around nothing. His hands come to your waist, as if grounding you, and somehow this makes everything feel even better. You start panting, babbling, I'm close, I'm getting close, Suo, Suo—

His grip tightens, and he stops you in place. You cry in frustration—no tears, but the noise you make is broken.

“Answer my question,” he says. You feel a hand glide along your bare skin, stopping at your inner thigh. “Answer me and I'll touch you.”

“Okay,” you say, as desperate as you are distressed. “Okay, I'll do anything. Anything.”

“Good.” He sounds so pleased.

You put your arms around his neck, for no reason other than you want to. Lifting your hips, you part your legs for him, and you feel so relieved at just the touch of his hand that you sigh—even though all he's doing is running a finger along your slick folds.

You shudder as his fingers play with your sex. Lean your head on his shoulder as he starts to move. You’re so desperate that you start grinding against his hand, whining for him.

“Well, then,” he murmurs. “Tell me why you didn't come to me. This is all you wanted, isn't it?” He rolls your clit between two fingers, making you squirm. “Just to get off, right? I could have done that. You'd have enjoyed it more.”

“It”—your eyelids flutter shut—“it would have been too complicated. Y-you’re my boss, and I pay rent to y-you, and we’ve been friends for so long, I didn't want to make it weird—”

Suo delivers a sharp slap to your pussy.

The contact is so sudden that you yelp. It only stings a little, but it makes your clit ache. The noise it makes is so wet, so filthy, telling of your desperation. And to your shame—even though you have never once in your life enjoyed being handled roughly by your customers—your cunt starts leaking in response.

You whimper, about to burst from frustration. You need to be touched so bad. You need to be touched by him so bad, and you need to cum on his cock or else you'll lose your fucking mind.

“Suo,” you complain, or beg, and you don't even realise that you're tearing up until he swipes his thumb under your eye.

“Try again,” he says gently, but not kindly. “The truth this time, and then I'll make you cum. Why didn't you come to me first? These past few months, or any other time?”

You don't answer him. “Suo, please—” And he moves back so that you're no longer leaning against him. Your lip trembles at the loss of the warmth, which somehow feels worse than the loss of your orgasm. An actual tear rolls down your cheek, and he doesn't wipe this one away.

“Answer me,” he says firmly. Instead of replying, you try to reach for him—wanting to be pressed against his body again, wanting him to draw pleasure out of yours again—but he stills you with his hands.

You feel devastated.

Out of horny, emotional desperation, and an all-consuming need to be fucked, you admit, “I was just scared!”

This is the worst mistake you've ever made.

The minute the words dislodge from your throat, you feel yourself choke up. You don't know why. All you know is that you suddenly can't hold back your tears from your sexual frustration, which for some reason is starting to feel distinctly like a non-sexual kind of angst, which is also strangely painful for your chest.

Because now that you've said it out loud, you can't ignore it.

You want to hide. You want to crawl out of his lap and run out of the establishment. Surely, the mamasan will forgive you for leaving a shift with such a frightening and horrible man, who is currently trying to extort your feelings out of you. But Suo’s grip is solid and unforgiving on you, and all you can do is squirm.

“Scared of what?” Suo asks. His voice has gone soft. Actually soft—not in a way that suggests danger, but a way that suggests you're loved. It makes you tremble.

His arms circle you, and one rubs at your back. It makes you relax very slightly. Or at the very least, it makes you stop wanting to bolt.

“What were you scared of?” he prompts again.

A feeling of defeat washes over you. Suo will figure you out sooner or later. He always does. So you tell him, very quietly, “I was scared that—that you'd leave me.”

You realise that you just stuttered. You stuttered because you're crying. You're actually, genuinely crying. Not from sexual frustration, but because you're just frustrated in general. And miserable. You've been chronically miserable for most of your life, and that misery has had nowhere to go until now.

You press your face into Suo’s shoulder, and he lets you. You breathe deeply in an attempt to stop crying, his cologne washing over you. It's nice, but what feels most comforting is just the scent of him. You're used to it from the days before he'd ever thought about using a fragrance, let alone a fragrance that would bankrupt the average person. It's calming, even when overlayed with ambergris and vanilla. Familiar.

Your breathing evens out a little—but only a little.

“Why would I leave you?” His voice is so kind, patient. More tears bead on your lashes.

“Because you might not want me anymore.” You sound so fragile. Shit, you are fragile. You can't stop the splintering feeling in you, the same one that ate at you two months ago when you thought he was going to leave you. “You could get tired of me or resent me or get bored with me. You could—you could want to throw me away, for no reason. Or—” You breathe in sharply, clinging to him harder.

“Or?”

“Or you could die—you joined the yakuza, so you could die. Why did you do that?” An actual sob leaves you. His shirt is getting wet. You ruined so many of his silk changshan like this in the past, when your boyfriend cheated on you and when your parents kicked you out and when you slept with your fifth customer.

And when your master died.

“I'm still so fucking mad at you for it,” you bite out around your tears. “If you got fucking killed—oh my god, I can't even think about it. I can't—I couldn't take it if—if I kissed you, and we had sex, and then I didn't have you anymore.”

“Why not?”

“Because you’re the only thing I have.” You squeeze your eyes shut, a terrible realisation hitting you. “And…”

“And?”

“And,” you say, voice breaking, “I think because I love you?”

You know it as soon as you voice it. You do love him. Not just platonically, but in the way where you want to hold his hand and kiss him and marry him. In the way a miserable nineteen year old girl is so in love with her miserable best friend that she refuses to leave him despite how terrifying he’s becoming. You loved him in this way before you realised you wanted to have sex with him, and even after that, you loved him so much that it didn't matter that he wasn't having sex with you.

You love him so much it disgusts you.

You want to hide, but Suo forces you to look at him. He brushes away your tears, cups your face. The Pavlovian response takes over: your heart rate slows, and you calm down.

“There,” he says gently. “That wasn't so bad, was it?”

He’s wrong. You bet he knows he's wrong. That was objectively one of the worst experiences of your life. You feel wrung out, tenderised. You never thought you'd say any of that. You're not sure you knew most of that.

But in Suo’s arms, plied open with his words and his hands, you actually find yourself shaking your head. You lean into the touch of his palm.

“I love you,” he continues, his tone so authoritative and calm that it leaves no room for doubt, “probably to the point that it should scare you. Do you understand that?”

“Yes,” you say quietly.

“And we won't be separated. I won't allow anything to take you away from me. Do you understand that too?”

You make a noise, halfway between a relieved sigh and another sob. This declaration should not be a surprise from a man who’s effectively locked you up in his house. Still—your heart feels so light when you hear someone say, for the first time in your life, that they’ll stay with you no matter what. It's like Suo has just unearthed a weight that you didn't know you'd been carrying.

“I’ll try,” you reply, voice small.

“Good.” He strokes your cheek. “Do you want to keep going?”

It’s absurd. You just cried and confessed something terrifying. With anyone else, this would be an experience so horrifying that you'd leave right now and never come back. Your sexual desire should not just be gone, but permanently erased. At the very least, you shouldn't feel the slightest bit horny.

But somehow, being gutted by Suo hasn't left you feeling bad. It's left you feeling lighter. Kind of like you've been purged. You feel exhausted, but in a malleable way. Dazed and relieved to be in his lap. Your thighs are still embarrassingly sticky, heart still embarrassingly wobbly, and you just heard him say that he loves you.

Now you want to hear him say it while he's cumming inside you.

“Yeah,” you admit immediately, pathetically. You sniffle.

“You're sure?” Another stroke. “I want to hear you say it clearly. What do you want to do?”

Your dignity is gone. “I want you to fuck me.”

He smiles. A fond hum leaves him. “Good girl,” he murmurs, and you feel a flutter in your belly. “I'll take care of you now.”

He kisses you this time, before he touches you. On the neck, on your jaw. You bare your nape to him, shivering at the feeling of his lips on your jugular, at his nipping teeth on your skin. You realise he's leaving marks, and with each one, you shudder. It feels so intimate. You're on a rooftop bar, in a skanky hostessing dress, crying and strung out—but this is the closest thing you've ever gotten to one of your fantasies about him. Not the nasty ones that you think about when you're home by yourself, but the ones you think of when you're in bed with various salarymen. The ones where you get to lie with him in bed and press your lips to his.

“Suo,” you start.

“Hayato,” he corrects you. “You're my fiancée now, remember? We should be on a first name basis.”

Your stomach flips. “Hayato,” you try again, breathless. “Please.”

He takes a moment to reply, busy sucking another mark into your skin. “Please, what?”

You hesitate. Suo pulls back, looking at you. You whine, feeling shy all of a sudden. You flirt for a living and yet you feel embarrassed about your request. It's humiliating.

“Please, what?” he repeats. His mouth is curled in a smile, and you can't tell whether it's endeared or entertained. “Please let you cum? Please fuck you?”

“Please kiss me,” you say, in a small voice.

Suo pauses.

“What?”

“Please kiss me,” you beg. Close to tears again, for some reason you don't know. You think it surprises him as much as it does you.

It takes him a moment to recover, but when he does, he gives you a look that’s fucking ravenous.

His thumbs away the wetness from your eyes. “You're so cute sometimes. Did you know that?”

You flush. Plenty of customers have called you cute, but none have had you feeling so indignant nor shy.

“I’m not,” you reply, “and stop that.”

“But it's true. And I want you to know it.”

Suo presses his mouth to yours before you can respond. You're so eager for him that you part your lips immediately. Your instinct is to make your first kiss with him messy and desperate, but he’s in full control, and he’s taking his time. His tongue is careful and precise. Full of intention. His lips are slow, languid, and lazy, like he's savouring the taste of you. A hand plays with the strap of your dress. You feel him slide it off your shoulder—the other one quickly follows—but you’re so absorbed in his kiss, you hardly pay attention.

You're vaguely aware of the breeze against your bare chest. One of his hands moving up, feeling out your curves. He hums into your mouth when his fingers ghost over your nipples, and they harden under his touch.

“Suo,” you whine as he teases them, and he pinches one of them, watching as you squirm.

“Hayato,” he corrects you promptly, and you give him a worn, teary look.

“Hayato.”

“Yes?”

“I need more,” you say quietly.

He smiles, clearly enjoying your desperation. “Be patient,” he teases you. “I’m getting there.”

He kisses a line along your jaw, down your neck. Traces your collarbone with the path of his mouth, works his way down to your breasts. At the same time you feel the heat of his tongue on your nipple, his hand reaches between your legs. You're so wet already that he doesn't need to work you open again—just sinks his fingers inside you until you're sighing for him.

You discover that when he's not antagonising you, Suo is frighteningly efficient with pleasuring you. He learns quickly how you like your tits played with, and how to fuck you so well with his fingers until you're gushing around them and keening. He said he'd take care of you, but you think he's mostly forcing all this pleasure from your body for his own enjoyment. There's no other explanation for how he keeps bringing you to the edge and pulling you back, swallowing each of your whines and complaints with his mouth. The only time he isn't kissing you is when you're begging—and you don't miss the way his breathing deepens every time you do.

But no matter how much you beg, he isn’t letting you cum.

“Look at the mess you're making,” he murmurs as he plays with your cunt. You're sitting between his legs again, your back against his chest. You can feel the length of his cock against your ass, and you hear how his breath hitches every time you squirm against it. Except for that one tell, he sounds completely unaffected by what he's doing—forced you to open your legs wide for him, spread your glistening folds to tease you. The leather beneath your ass is wet, ruined by your need.

“Hayato,” you whine.

“Just a little longer,” he promises, “and then I'll let you cum.”

Your mind is so fogged with pleasure at this point that you can't focus on anything other than Suo’s touch. You’ve actually forgotten where you are—not a truly private space, but part of a club. The girls would normally only come up if you put in an order, but you haven't for a while now.

Long enough for someone to check on you without warning.

You tense as soon as you hear the door open. You recognize the server—she knows you well, by face, stage name, and real name. Your eyes go wide as she calls for you. You try to sit up, close your legs, but Suo grabs one of your thighs and forces it open.

“Suo, wait—”

You whimper, incapable of words when his fingers push into you again. He starts fucking you with them, and in earnest this time—curling his fingers until they're pushing into your g-spot, doing it over and over and over. Your eyes roll back and you stop struggling, and Suo takes the opportunity to touch you with his other hand too, playing with your clit. A strangled moan leaves you as the heat in your gut ratchets up. Pleasure swells in your belly; you feel like you're going to burst.

“Suo,” you cry, tears pricking your eyes, “wait, wait, my coworker—wait, I think—I think I'm gonna—”

“Go ahead,” he says into your ear, voice silky, and he pushes against your sweet spot in a way that gives you no choice but to obey him.

You cum so hard that you squirt all over the seat. Your whole body is wracked with intense pleasure—hips bucking violently, legs twitching, crying so loudly and shamelessly that your coworker naturally hears. She catches you spread wide open in Suo’s lap, his fingers deep in your messy, swollen cunt as you drench them.

Her tray clatters to the floor.

Fighting the mindless haze that your body is in, you glance at the other girl, whose hand is over her mouth. She looks appalled. She’s going to yell at you. But then you then watch, in real time, as her eyes travel to your customer’s face and she realises who he is. If she was red when she saw the two of you, she's now a pale white.

“Did you come to check on us?” Suo asks. He sounds amused. She flinches at his voice, and actually takes a step backward. “We’re fine for now. We’ll order something in a bit, and call you up here as usual.”

“O-okay,” she says, voice high and tense. “I—I’ll leave you two, then. Please—please enjoy yourself, sir. We'll be available in case you require any other services.” And she walks away briskly, almost in a run. She doesn't even bother to stop the expressly forbidden act that you're engaged in.

Once she’s gone, Suo allows you some dignity. He pulls his fingers out of you, lets you catch your breath.

“Oops,” he says. “It’s too bad they caught us. I suppose they won't want to keep you on as an employee, since you broke such an important rule.”

You stare at him, wide-eyed. Your emotional and sexual pliability quickly dissipates, replaced by disbelief.

“You—you did that on purpose,” you say between pants, too fucked out to be truly angry, but still appalled.

Suo raises a brow, gives you an innocent look. “Did I? I was just making you cum, like you've been begging all night. It was just unfortunate timing.” He then smiles, which makes him look incredibly kind despite the apparent sadism of his person. “But it's fine. They're going to fire you for this, but you know my club will always take you back.”

You close your eyes and groan. “You’re horrible.”

“I am, aren't I?” Suo puts his arms around you, kisses you on the shoulder, his voice getting low. “But this is a better arrangement, don't you think? You won't need to see customers this way. Every time you need relief, you can come upstairs and I'll give you my cock instead.” He grinds against you, letting you feel how hard he is, and you whimper. He laughs, probably entertained at how desperate you sound. “Or maybe I'll just make you take it whenever I feel like it. I think at the end of every shift makes sense, doesn't it? Since that's how often you've been touching yourself on the couch.”

“S-suo.”

“It’s Hayato now, remember. What is it, dear?”

He sounds so smug, mocking you. You should be furious. But in your fucked out state, all you can focus on is the idea of being forced to take Suo's cock every night. Despite already being ruined, your pussy starts throbbing again. You squirm and press your thighs together, trying to get it to stop—you’re so fucking tired—and you bleakly realise that you can't control your body’s reactions around him. You're getting wet again. It makes you want to cry.

“Hayato,” you whimper, on the verge of tears.

“Ah, you addressed me properly. Good.” He’s so satisfied. “What is it?”

“I…”

“You?”

“I”—your voice is so small and embarrassed, you can hardly believe it—“I want you to fuck me.”

He feigns shock, as if he wasn't actively provoking this. “Really? But you just came.” A hand prods between your legs. You obediently spread them for him, and he checks your pussy with two of his fingers. You moan a little at the intrusion, but there's no resistance at all.

Your cunt, still dripping, tightens around him, and he laughs softly.

“You really do need a cock in you. Who knew you had such a needy pussy.” He curls his fingers. Probably feeling the way it makes you gush, delighting in the gasp it draws out of you. “No wonder you have to use that toy every day.”

You're about to die of embarrassment. “Hayato. Please just fuck me.”

Suo turns you so that you can look at him. He’s wearing a kind, benevolent face when he says, “No.”

“...what?”

“I'm not going to give you my cock.” He hums, contemplative. “Not for a while, I think.”

“B-but,” you say, genuinely upset, “but you were just talking about doing that at work.”

“Sure—after we get married. It's only proper, don’t you think?”

“What?” Your eyes are wide in disbelief. “You—you just made me cum with your fingers. In a public space.”

“Yes. But that's different from letting you have my cock. It wouldn't be gentlemanly of me to do that before we’re wedded.” He can't keep the amusement out of his voice as he bullies you. “I'm sure you can wait until the summer, right? Since that's the season you chose for us. August, I think you told Nirei.”

“Hayato—”

“Actually,” he muses, easily sliding a third finger into you, making your voice clip off in a whimper, “I think you shouldn’t be allowed to have anything in you until then. Except for my fingers and tongue, of course. But no toys, and no other men either. That definitely wouldn't be proper.”

“I'm going to,” you say spitefully—and tearfully. “If you don't fuck me right now, I will sleep with other people.”

“I don't think you want to find out the consequences if you do.”

“How would you even—ngh—know?”

“Good question.” He starts pumping his fingers, and to your horror, your cunt needily swallows them with each motion, your body as desperate as he's been saying. “I guess I'll need to check your pussy every night. See if it's been stretched out by someone else’s cock. Maybe upstairs in the lounge at the end of each night, so I'll know that you haven't fucked a customer during a shift. Clearly, it's not impossible that you would.”

You try not to sob. Not only are his words utterly humiliating, they're making you wetter. After fucking so many people in so many ways, you didn't know it was possible for you to feel this much shame during sex—but then again, shaming people is one of Suo’s specialties.

You give him the teariest look possible, because by now you've figured out that he likes seeing you cry. Sadistic motherfucker. You're happy to use it to your advantage though.

He gets that hungry look in his eye again. “Please, Hayato,” you beg, voice trembling with need, “I want more. I thought I was your beautiful wife already.” You grind your ass against his cock, and he inhales sharply. “Don't you wanna cum in your wife’s pussy?”

Suo stops, deeply affected—just as you guessed he'd be. After making you his fake wife in both his criminal life and his civilian one, it's painfully obvious that the man is obsessed with marrying you. You'd make fun of him if you weren't so horny. Or humbled.

He only allows himself speechlessness for a second. He hums soon after, delicately wiping the tears out of your eyes. “You've been good enough that I guess I can reward you. I won't fuck you, but”—he shifts away, and you can hear his pants unzipping—“I’m sure you'll enjoy yourself anyway.”

Suo wasn't lying earlier. His cock is bigger than any toy you've ever used. It's pretty, too. Curved and long and flushed at the head. Glistening with prespend, which has pearled up at the tip. You think you might be salivating. For a minute, you contemplate asking if you can feel it in your throat, but then Suo’s lying down and moving you on top of him. When his cock nudges at your folds, you can’t help your excitement. You squirm, trying to sink onto his length.

His grip tightens on your waist, stopping you.

You’re about to whine at him about this, but he doesn't give you the chance. “If you try to ride me,” he says, in a voice so cold that you know he's not joking, “I'm not touching you until we’re married, and I'm not letting you touch yourself either.”

“...”

With anyone else you'd call bullshit, but you know that Suo is both crazy and petty enough to actually achieve this.

“Okay.” You sound and feel mollified. “I'll behave.”

He smiles. “Good,” he says cheerfully. “Just stay like that, then. I’ll take care of you.”

You listen to him, mostly because you're incredibly excited about getting pussy inspections and you'll be devastated if it doesn't happen. And you don't expect it to be a big deal, anyway. While your sex drive has been a constant source of grief for you throughout your life, you don't really have problems controlling any specific impulses in bed when you truly need to. You’re used to giving your customers whatever they want and, if you're lucky, getting off from it. You figure this will be the same.

You find out very quickly that it isn't.

You need to stay still. You can’t sink down on him. Two easy orders that are extraordinarily difficult when Suo is the one beneath you. You have to actively stop your hips from moving when you feel the silky head of his cock press into your folds, which are still dripping with your slick. Suo’s breath hitches when he runs the tip along your opening, drawing wet noises every time his cock head catches on your needy hole, smearing his precum all over it. All you want is to push back on him and let your pussy swallow his cock. You’re aching for it, and you know he is too. If you sank down on him now, he'd lose control and fuck you raw until he was cumming inside you. And then he'd probably keep going after that, not letting you move until you were stuffed full and dripping with his spend. Both of you know it.

But you don't do that. You're good for him. You sigh, just trying to enjoy the feeling of his length rubbing against you. How he's twitching and throbbing against you, how he wants as equally much to be inside you—but pulls back every time. Your mind goes a little fuzzy with the drawn out, low hum of pleasure, and you close your eyes.

Then he starts pushing into you.

“H-Hayato?” You whimper at the intrusion, at being made to take something so thick without warning. “I thought you weren't gonna—”

“I'm not,” he says. His breathing is heavier, his words strained, but his voice is still commanding when he says, “Don’t move.”

Suo doesn't give you the whole thing, just the tip. It is much harder to control yourself like this—when you can feel yourself getting stretched by the head of his cock, already so fat and heavy, but you don't get filled up by it. It makes you aware of how empty you are, and how wet you're getting. You bury your face into his neck and make a noise that's both tearful and pathetic.

It's not acting when you whine, in a watery, miserable way, “Please, Hayato. I need your cum in me.”

It's probably the crying that gets him. He inhales sharply, thrusting maybe a little deeper than intended. You groan at the extra inch of cock, eyes rolling back, and can't help the way your pussy tightens and drips, trying to suck him in.

“Fuck,” he says, and then he pulls out.

He lays you flat on your back. Before you can get so much as a word out, he's between your legs and pressing his cock against your entrance. For possibly the happiest moment of your life, you think Suo is going to fuck you—but instead he starts pushing the slick head of his cock right against your neglected clit.

You aren't going to complain.

You whimper as he starts rubbing against your sex, leaving his prespend all over your swollen bud. It makes you squirm, grinding yourself against it, and you press your legs together to get some more pressure for the both of you. Soon his cock is sliding between your thighs, getting them all sticky with his prespend. You can feel the length of him hot and slick against your folds, heavy and throbbing.

You've never cum like this before. It was never enough stimulation when your customers made you do this, which nearly all of them have. But the pressure on your clit and on your folds is shockingly intense as the two of you move, enough to make you whimper as a familiar tension builds. It's not as overwhelming as when his fingers were inside you, but it's enough for you to start panting at the tension in your belly. You can hear Suo’s breath picking up as you start to whine, and he watches you, almost predatorial, as another orgasm crashes over you. You moan his name as you cum, squeezing a few more tears out of your eyes.

He stares at your flustered, wet face as he pushes the head of his cock against your entrance again, fisting himself as it flutters and drips in the aftershock of your orgasm. Suo’s been hard for so long, for the whole time he's teased and bullied you—you aren't surprised at how close he already is. Especially not when you start talking about how much you need his cum in you, how empty your pussy feels without it, how badly you want your husband to fill you up. All with your mascara smeared and your lip trembling, a sight that makes him throb.

Suo groans as he finally cums. You can feel his cock twitching, warmth spurting out onto your folds, and then into your pussy as he thrusts shallowly into you. You pull him down needily as he fills you, and he indulges you with a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss.

When he pulls out, you can feel his cum drip out of you, all the way down to the couch. You make a happy noise at the mess he's made of your hole, giving him a lovestruck, dreamy expression.

“You should do that every night after you're done checking my pussy,” you sigh.

Suo’s mouth curls, and breathes out a kind of laugh. He holds your face, and one of his tassels brush against the shell of your ear as he presses his forehead to yours. “I’ll do it if you're good for me.”

“I’ll be on my best behaviour until our wedding night,” you promise, voice affectionate.

Suo gives you a fond look. His expression is so sentimental. You think he’s going to say something sweet.

“Alright,” he replies. “Then be good for me and keep the rest of that inside you, okay? Let’s not make a mess of these floors. I don't want to get blacklisted from this club.”

You open and close your mouth, completely speechless.

“You're fucking horrible,” you say with all your heart, and he laughs and kisses you, and kisses you, and kisses you. He doesn't stop until you're placated and horny again.

Suo takes his sweet time pushing his cum into you as deeply as possible, saying that it's to make sure you don't lose any of it, but really so he can draw another orgasm out of you. Knowing that the mamasan might take pity on you and think that you were coerced into degrading sexual acts by a terrifying yakuza client, he makes sure to order a drink beforehand, calling up a server. (I don't want to be a bad patron, he hums as he looks at the tablet, and I said I'd get you to the number 1 ranking, right?) It subsequently looks, sounds, and is completely consensual when you're found pulling at Suo’s hair, keening as he fingers his cum into you while sucking on your clit.

This leaves you with no hope of continued employment on all of Keisei Street.

To add insult to injury, you do make a mess of the floors, despite Suo’s conscientious efforts to avoid this—though it's not as bad as the one you left on the couch. You also can't find your thong anywhere, which you guess is something else that the mamasan won’t appreciate when she finds it. Still, for the rest of the night, everyone shows Suo nothing but the utmost respect and highest quality customer service. They even ask how he found your company and if he has any feedback for you. He praises your conversational skills, karaoke abilities, and how capable you were in catering to his many needs. He also lets them know that you'll be resigning.

Hanzo and Shuuhei are waiting to pick you up, bringing the Rolls Royce with the privacy suite. This time, Suo doesn't use it to interrogate you; he instead uses it to kiss you and tease you and discuss wedding plans. If it'll be indoors or outdoors. If you'll have a big reception or a small one. If it'll be a traditional wedding, or if you’ll want a Chinese one like the one your master would have maybe liked to see. You settle on having a Shinto ceremony and a Chinese-style reception. Having been raised Chinese, whenever Suo imagined marrying during his teenage years, you were always in a red qipao. His master even once told him that if he managed to win your heart, he'd organise a tea ceremony and act in the role of Suo’s father.

After disclosing these facts (the first of which makes your heart weak, and the second of which leaves it aching), he asks about any long-standing things you've always wanted to do with him as a couple. If you had any silly or indulgent daydreams about your future with him, and what they were like.

“I don't know,” you admit. “I guess after you applied to teacher’s college, I liked the idea of marrying you, and doing all the domestic things you talked about. Though you were just joking at the time.”

You don't really expect him to remember much about this particular line of teasing. Sure, the man is currently obsessed with marrying you, and maybe he daydreamed about it a little bit when he was younger—but he mostly treated the idea as a funny joke when he was a teenager. All of the teasing has probably blurred together for him over the years. Certainly, it has for you.

But you've never been able to forget this particular memory. It’s one of those small, inconsequential moments that you find yourself incapable of letting go to this day. You loved hearing him talk about getting married, even though it hurt immensely that it was probably just teasing. You loved it because you wanted it. You wanted Suo to teach people because you knew he was good at it and it would make him genuinely happy. You wanted to stop working in the red light district and make a nice and safe home for Suo, just as he'd made a nice and safe home for you. And you wanted to marry him and kiss him and have sex with him and only him for the rest of your life.

You wanted it so badly, it still makes you heart ache to think about it.

He was definitely just teasing you, though. Suo was a sane person at the time, and sane people do not actually plan a marriage and life with someone before dating them or even fucking them. Most importantly, a sane person wouldn't hold onto such a silly joke for so long. Oh, you expect him to say, laughing. You're right, I had nearly forgotten.

But all he does is give you a smile. It's one of his strange, enigmatic ones.

“No, I was quite serious about it,” Suo says, looking right at you.

You stare at him.

“Really?”

“Really.”

He's being so straightforward, so earnest. Your typical reaction would be to feel flustered, sentimental—but something about his expression and tone bothers you. But before you can suss out what it is, he continues, and the moment passes.

“Was there anything else you ever wanted to do?” he asks smoothly.

You're startled, off-guard. “Oh, um… not really. I never let myself think too much about it.”

“Come on,” he prods. “There must be something.”

“No, I really didn't think of any ideas on my own. Although…”

Your face gets hot as you trail off. Suo senses weakness, and goes in for the kill.

“Although?”

“It's too embarrassing,” you admit, looking away, and Suo looks a little too interested as he pesters you for an answer.

“Come on, it's fine.” His mouth curls in a way that tells you it's not fine. “I promise I won't judge you. I just want to know what I can do to make you happy as your husband.”

You give him an uncertain look, and say your only concrete fantasy about him so quickly and quietly that he misses it.

“Pardon?” he asks.

“...romantic, vanilla sex.”

Suo blinks. “What?”

Your face burns with humiliation.

“I used to think about having romantic, vanilla sex with you. When I was a teenager. A lot.” Said as if you weren't just thinking about it two months ago in a love hotel, and still don't want it now. You wouldn't even bring it up if you didn't think it was necessary. But unfortunately, you're professionally skilled at perceiving people’s sexual interests, and you've perceived that Suo is sexually a freak. He was definitely going easy on you tonight, and is probably actively planning to get worse. You'll never have normal sex with him unless you explicitly state a desire for it.

Suo gives you a surprised look. “That's… a very mundane fantasy.”

“It wouldn't have been mundane to me,” you reply, somewhat defensively. “I used to think about it when I slept with my customers, who weren't very romantic. Or vanilla. So I didn’t really have a good reference point or anything for that kind of sex, but sometimes I still thought about doing it with you after they had left.”

You look away after saying this, wondering why you disclosed all of that. It certainly wasn't necessary for your dream of someday taking Suo’s cock without being psychosexually tortured first. Now you feel like you need to hide. You even think about excuses for stopping the car, and ponder again how difficult it would be to live without proof of identity, if you chose to run away.

But Suo doesn't let you run. He pulls you close to him, wrapping you up in his warmth.

“It's okay,” he says gently, in a voice that reminds you of how he was in his old Furin days. “You'll be okay. I'll make sure of it.” It confuses you deeply, and you turn to ask him what the fuck he's going on about.

You don't even realise you're crying until he starts kissing away your tears.

You can’t understand why you’re weeping. Maybe something strange and hormonal happened while you were having sex, like Suo made you orgasm too hard and all the oxytocin is making you depressed now. Though you think that hormone is supposed to make you happy. You're not sure. You never finished school, so you wouldn't know.

Whatever the reason, you hastily wipe away your tears. A hand rubs at your back, and you let yourself press your face into his shoulder.

“Sorry,” you say quickly.

“Don't apologise. You don't have anything to be sorry for.”

You hesitate as you breathe against the silk threads of his shirt, thinking about how many of his shirts you've ruined with your tears. At least three changshan and one Versace summer piece, by your count. It’s not like he hurts over the money these days, but guilt tugs at your heart.

“I don't know about that,” you mumble into his shoulder. And it takes a while to work yourself up to saying it, but eventually you whisper, with full honesty, “I'm sorry for always worrying you.”

“I know,” Suo says. He sounds sincere when he says, “I’m sorry too.”

“I’ll try to be better from now on.”

“You will be. And even if you aren’t, that's fine.”

For some reason, that makes your heart squeeze.

You melt against Suo after that, listening to the steady roll of tires and passing traffic outside. There's a gentle pitter patter of rain against the car roof, tinny and rhythmic, that gradually crescendos into a proper storm. The windshield wipers squeak against the glass. All of the noise is lulling you into a kind of peace, or maybe you're just feeling that way because Suo is holding you.

Fatigue wears your consciousness, and you close your eyes. The hustle and bustle of the red light district grows distant, faint—partly from slipping in and out of your dreams, and partly from the quieting world outside. It's now completely silent other than the heavy rainfall. You think they must be taking the road through Makochi. Suo asks for it whenever he wants you to sleep well.

He probably thinks you're asleep when he says, “I’m sorry for being how I am now.”

You almost stop breathing. Almost.

“You didn't fall in love with me when I was like this, so you must not like it very much,” he continues. “I know that Master wouldn't like me much either, if he were alive. He always said that you should support your loved ones until they can stand on their own two feet. But lately, I feel like all I've been doing is breaking yours.”

He sighs. The sky groans with distant thunder.

“Sakura knows who I really am, you know,” he says quietly. “I think he's worried about what'll happen to you if we get married. Though he’s been worried about you for a while.” Suo almost sounds endeared when he adds, “Did you know he only texts me now to ask if you're okay? He really does love you.”

He’s more sombre when he continues, “But Nirei is just afraid of me. That’s why he’s never around. He’s going to call you in a week and tell you not to go through with the wedding. He’ll probably tell you to leave me too. It’s good advice.”

It's hard to keep your breathing slow, with how badly your heart hurts.

“I’ve tried to go back to how I was, to the kind of person that Master was trying to raise,” Suo confesses. “But I don't think I can get better.”

But even if you can't, you want to tell him, that’s fine. You wish you could hold him how he's always held you.

“It doesn't usually upset me nowadays,” he admits after some time, “how I am now. But to be honest, talking about our school days did make me feel bitter, because I can't give you the things I know you wanted.”

He kisses the top of your head. Gently, so as not to wake you from your dream.

“I'm sorry I never became a teacher. I'm sorry I joined the yakuza. I'm sorry I can't give you a normal life. And I'm sorry I can’t have an honest conversation with you.”

Silence. You feel his chest stop briefly, his breathing deepen.

“Maybe someday, I'll get better enough to say these things to you while you're awake. Maybe someday, I'll even get better enough to let you leave. It would be best for you.”

His voice gets even softer. Tender.

“But for now, I don't know how to let you go.”

You feel a hand shifting away, the soft noise of leather against skin. Then both arms around you again, even warmer, even tighter. He’s leaning his head against yours. You think Suo is falling asleep.

Allowing yourself a single, quick glance at the car, you peer at your reflections in the rearview mirror. You see sheets of rain sliding against the back window, his dark lashes pressed to his skin, and all the scar tissue he likes to keep hidden away.

And you can see, very clearly, tears beneath his missing eye.

END 'TOKYO VICE'

hi everyone thanks for reading this chapter!!!! i hope it didn't disappoint after all the shitposting i did about it this week lol

can i just say. this was straight up the weirdest sex scene I've ever written HASLKFJSDF and the mood whiplash throughout this was probably the craziest i've ever written within a single piece. unfortunately, this reader copes with her trauma via humour and sex and it really shows rip. i hope it wasn't too offputting!

thank you to everyone who left a comment on part 1!! please do let me know if you enjoyed part 2 as well. <333

tagging @kweenkatsuki-fics and @stuckindreamland06!

[kurokawaia]

DAY TWENTY THREE - BABY TRAPPING 彡 Aizen Sosuke

WARNINGS :: x fem reader, afab, yandere, coercion, manipulation, baby trapping, no protection, missionary, fingering, cervix kissing, NC cumming inside, + more

| WC :: 2.8k+ | MDNI | 18+ | kinkmas m.list

You knew about Aizen, what he wanted to achieve-you were the only person he had told apart from three others. You were going to go ahead and help him make this dream a reality. To be in the company of Aizen was to be with a God-the level of control he had, it scared you, couldn't tell if you felt safe too. He's always there to protect you, keeps you hidden away so you can't get hurt. Still, something has always been a bit off about him; you noticed it, how his eyes would follow your every move, every breath. It started innocently enough with Aizen as a perfect gentleman, never forcing and yet giving you just enough space to feel independent. Subtle changes began to happen over time. "Are you going out again?" Aizen's voice came out soft, he is masking his disapproval, he's waiting for the right moment to force you to stay with him. You lifted your gaze from the mirror in front of you and finished styling out your hair. "Just for a little while. Soon I will be back." His eyes stayed on you a moment, his smile false as he stared at you. "I worry about you," he said, moving in behind you and setting his hands on your shoulders before trailing off down to your hands. "The world is a dangerous place, and I'm not always going to be here to protect you. You're only a healer, you can't do much, my love." Comforting, even, his words were sweet. You think. A lump, tense feeling began to grow in your stomach but you laughed it off, brushing his hands with a soft touch. "I'll be fine, Sosuke! I can take care of myself." But the seed had been sown. Over weeks, he came further into your life, and what you used to decide for yourself would, it seemed henceforth, have first to pass through him. And he keeps reminding you so often with a soft chuckle that he wants nothing but the best for you. "You know, you need to take more rest," Aizen said to you one night while doing reports. He leaned over you with his hand tucked in the back of your nemaki, drawing circles, almost to sooth you. "All this stress isn't good for your health." You faltered, words caught in your throat. "I need to finish this." "You don't," he returned smoothly. His fingers closed over your shoulder, tightening just a fraction. "What you need is to unwind. I don't like seeing you overexerting yourself." Before he could object further, he leaned forward and rolled the scroll shut before taking it in his hands. "I'll take care of everything," he whispered. "Just trust me." At first, it was very easy to confuse his overprotectiveness with care. He was attentive, loving in his own peculiar way. Before long, the control started to become more evident with each passing day. 

He never raised his voice nor did he yell. He didn't have to. His words had been enough to lead you to wherever he wanted you to go. And they were so gradual besides, too slight, almost imperceptible. He started taking you away from your friends, from your captain, your lieutenant, subtly making you feel they were not people you should trust. "They don't understand you the way I do," he'd say stroking your hair as you lay in his arms. "They'll only hold you back." And when you fell, he'd lift your chin so it faced his eyes, the skin of your forehead grazing his lips in a feather-soft touch. "I only want what's best for you." You had begun to lean on him, questioning your choices, and if indeed you really knew what was best for you. Then you went to Aizen to see if it was okay-the things you were doing. Aizen had this way of speaking, as though he was the only one who knew you. Lying beside him in bed, as night fell, you said what was pent up inside your mind, "Aizen, am I the only one who thinks this all went a bit too fast? I feel like... I'm losing myself." His response was immediate. "You aren't losing yourself, my love, you're finding who you're really supposed to be. With me, you don't have to worry about a thing. Always, I will take care of you," he says with a softness, but his words are like honey. Still, with those words somehow, it sent shivers down your spine. That was when the future conversations started, light at first, talks about what life could be if you stayed together. A house, peaceful life, children. "You'd make a great mother," he said one afternoon as his eyes latched onto yours. "Can't you imagine building a life with me?" Your heart had skipped a beat, but there was a growing discomfort. "Perhaps someday, but I don't know if I'm ready for that as yet." Aizen didn't press the issue then, but the subject kept coming up. He'd casually touch your belly, remark on how ideal it would be to have a family, how complete your bond would be if you were tied together in every possible way. "It's natural to be wary," Aizen told you one evening while you sat before the fireplace. His hand lay limply on your thigh, his thumb tracing soft patterns. "But do think about it. A child would only strengthen our love. We'd be forever bound." You laughed a little nervously and brushed the suggestion aside. "That's a big step, Aizen. I'm just not sure I'm ready." He smiled gently, his eyes concealing something, something that you don't notice. "You will see, in time, it is the best thing that can happen to us." You didn't know that in his mind, a decision was already made.

Aizen and you have had sex multiple times, so it isn't a rare occurrence for the two of you to have sex at least once a day, at the least, it would be once every two days. But, Aizen makes sure to leave you every night, making sure that you are so fucked out due to pleasure that you forget to notice particular things. 

Specifically, something that is about to happen tonight. 

Your arms are pinned above your head, as Aizen's fingers experimentally push past your slick folds, his fingers pressing past your clit, and a surge of pleasure courses through you, leaving you breathless and desperate for more.

 A moan left your mouth as your back arched to his touch. Your reaction made Aizen press down slightly more, and your legs squeezed around his waist, moans stringing out your mouth.

You felt his fingers slide down, and he found your seeping hols drenched with arousal. A finger slowly slid inside your heat, a whimper leaving your mouth. "Does this feel good?" Aizen asked, and you nodded frantically.

"F-Fuck... feels so good, Sosuke," you whimpered as he started to slowly pump in and out your soaked walls.

"Really?" He asked and you moaned as he inserted another finger into your walls.

Overwhelming, a perfect mix of pleasure and intensity, it leaves you unable to hold back your moans. You lean your lips against his shoulder, muffling those sounds that burst from deep inside you. His fingers delve deep inside your core, firing a flame that engulfs every thought. Every movement, every curl sends shockwaves of pleasure across your body.

You let go and surrender to his intoxicating rhythm of touches. The junction of his skilled fingers with the intensity of our connection cossets you closer to the edge and teetering on the precipice of release. It was just a pure moment of bliss, where time seemed to stand still, filled completely with an overwhelming pleasure that coursed through the veins.

With Aizen's fingers pumping in and out of your seeping hole relentlessly, there was a familiar tightness growing in your lower abdomen, and pleasure that had tightened inside your stomach. You wrap your shaking legs around him, trying to hold on to him as the pleasure overflows. Anticipation ripples your body, reacting to every single one of his touches and movements.

You chant his name into his neck as praises leave your mouth, your voice filled with desire and need. The tears welling in your eyes are not from pain but from the overwhelming pleasure that threatens to consume you whole.

At your pleading, sucks the skin around your neck once more, groaning against your neck, his voice husky with desire. His thumb starts pressing your clit with its fleshy pad, another layer added onto the sensations that are already so intense. The touch is electrifying, your back arches in response.

"Please, Sosuke," you sob. "I need to..."

"Let your body take over for you, you want this and I've got you," Aizen reassured, intertwining your mouths together, his mouth swallowing the moans that slipped out your mouth.

Waves of ecstasy wash over you, leaving your legs trembling and weak from the intensity of the sensations. He slips his fingers from your hole and you continue to tremble from the aftermath of the orgasm. You managed to release myself from Aizen's neck and move away from his hold.

"Feeling alright?" Aizen asks cupping my cheeks.

"...yeah..." you breath out slowly while looking into his eyes. Aizen makes you feel so good, all the time, always focusing n your own pleasure, it's like he's trying to win you over for something, to distract you from something-

"There is more coming," Aizen said slowly, his brown eyes piercing into your own and they widened.

"More?" you tease, "What possibly could you give me more of?"

"So much, my love," Aizen hums. "Just let yourself loose, don't focus on anything, just on the pleasure I will give."

He delicately bites the shell of your ear making you let out a quiet whimper. you could feel him smile against your ear at your reaction. Aizen's touch caused you to dig your nails slightly into his chest leaving light crescent marks causing more deep exhales of breaths to get caught in your ear.

Aizen moved his head and his body suddenly firmly pressed against yours and you whimpered at the feeling of his dick pressing up agasint your stomach. His lips mingled with yours his minty taste and smell overflowed your senses making it a complete euphoria for you. you cupped the back of his neck to create a deeper angle for him to go explore deeper into your mouth with our tongues continuing to entangle with each other.

Aizen groans into your mouth, the hand that was trailing down your thigh moved swiftly back to your waist and the other intertwined with your hair at the base of your neck, pulling you closer to him. you let out breathy sighs into him as your own hand interlaced with his chocolte and your other wrapped around behind his neck.

His other hand moved its way down to tightly lift your thigh up which made his body mould closer to mine making you feel his dick press up against your soaked core. The kiss slows down and turns soft and almost desperate it's as if he wants to take his time with you, savouring every inch of your taste, to take his sweet time to memorise you.

"Look at you," he teases. "Trembling under my touch."

Aizen pants against your lips and you didn't have time to reply as he pressed them against you once more. "Please," I whimper out.

"Hmm?"

"I want you...." you mumble. "Stop teasing me."

Aizen kissing your forehead like you were a child who listened to their parent. "Good girl."

He presses his lips against mine to take your mind off. you feel a hard tip get lubricated at your entrance making your back arch into him as you let out a strangled moan of pleasure into his mouth. He continues to push further into you making your eyebrows furrow together in pain but the pleasure is still overwhelming your senses making tears prick at your eyes.

"Oh, you feel so good," Aizen whimpers into your neck. "You're so perfect."

You moan. The feeling of pure ecstasy of him fully entered you, the pain gone.

You feel his dick scraping across your plush walls in all the right places as he slowly exited your cunt, but not fully. Your moans and whimpers get swallowed by each other. you feel his thrusts speed up and you moan in response, your walls clenching around him causing the grip Aizen held on your thigh and waist to tighten.

The coil in your stomach getting tighter and your moans slightly became higher. Aizen continued to groan into your neck after he pulled away from the heated kiss.

"You make- me feel so goo- d," you say moaning throughout your sentence, "Feels so good-" you felt the coil in your stomach snap as your back arched painfully into Aizen's bare chest causing Aizen to groan and his arms moved to wrap tightly around you.

You arched your back heavily, able at last to sink further into his embrace. Aizen leaned over, drawing you near to him and initiating a messy, moist kiss, pushing his tongue into your mouth, letting out grunts as he absorbed your sounds of pleasure. 

Effectively distracting you as he cums half in your cunt and the rest all over your stomach. He mimics that he's pulled out when in reality, he's got you filled with his seed, ready for you to bare his child.

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

 Aizen watched you from his chair.. "You're shaking, dear. What's going through your mind?" His voice was smooth, treacherous in a way that completely made it impossible for you to feel anything but relaxed and on edge all at once.

"I-I just don't understand...," you stammered, your hand falling to rest on your stomach, that for the last couple of weeks had started to show the signs of the life growing inside you. "How could this have happened? We were careful..."

Aizen chuckled low in his throat. "Oh, my love. Did you truly think I would leave something so important to chance? This was always a part of the plan."

You froze, your mind racing. "Wha... what do you mean?"

He stood, moving towards you with the grace of a predator stalking his prey. His hand cupped your cheek as he leaned down to whisper in your ear, "I made it happen. I want you bound to me in every way possible. You're mine now-mind, body, and soul."

It swept over you, you realise everything now. Every sweet word, every tender touch, was all an act to trap you. And in one swell, tears began to well within your eyes, but a gentle smiling Aizen wiped them away.

"There is no reason to cry, dear, this is for the best. Now you shall never leave me. You shall carry my child, and we will be bound together, forever." His lips pressed against your forehead. Your breath hitched as his hand slipped into your stomach. How had you not seen this all along? All those nights he had held you close, whispering sweet promises to your ear-all part of his carefully designed trap. He straightened, watching your. "You're too precious to let slip away. You see that, don't you?" His fingers brushed your skin. "You planned this," I whispered, more for my benefit than his. "You wanted this all along..."

Aizen smiled. "Of course. You really didn't think I'd leave a thing like that to chance, did you? I have always had a vision for us-a future wherein you would be mine-completely." You took another step backward, feeling the beating of your heart within your chest, but there was nowhere to go. "What if I don't want it?" you whispered almost soundlessly. "You are emotional now. Understandably so. But time will let you see this as precisely what you need." His voice was coaxing, speaking as he would to a frightened child. You shook your head, fighting down the panic rising into your throat. "I don't want to be trapped like this, Aizen. You can't just take away my choices." Aizen's hand rose to your chin, the pad of his thumb tipping your face upwards, forcing you to meet his gaze. "Oh my love, I have not taken anything from you. I've simply... ensured that we shall never again be parted. Is it not what you wanted, deep down?" "I... I don't know," you said, voice shaking. "Shhh," Aizen cooed, pressing a strand of hair behind your ear. "You are overwhelmed now. But in time, you shall see: our child will bind us together, and you shall understand that was the only way. You shall thank me for protecting our future. "Why?" one finally asked, barely above a whisper. "Why go to such an extent? Aizen's smile pulled taut over his lips, never quite reaching his eyes. "Because I love you. And when I love someone, I make sure they can never leave me." Aizen leaned down until his lips brushed against your ear. "There's no escape, my dear. Not now, not ever."

Do not steal, copy, modify, translate or use for ai Reblogs only!

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[save-the-villainous-cat]

Angst Villain x civilian where the villain cheats on civilian with hero

“If it is of any comfort, it didn’t mean that much to me." The villain cocked their head, as if they were thinking about something intensively - which they weren't. They looked at the civilian, but failed to conjure any pity.

Their partner, well, probably ex-partner now, looked at them with wide eyes and tears rolling down their cheeks.

"I-" The civilian's hands were shaking, their face contorted in pain. "What did I- what did I do wrong?"

Their voice was shaking.

"Nothing."

"I..." The civilian took in a deep breath. "Oh god..."

They gasped for air desperately but the villain couldn't help but think about the hero in their bed, moaning lovingly. It was true that the civilian hadn't done anything wrong. They were quite good company to keep around. They were tidy (which was very important to the villain), they were nice, avoided conflict, didn't ask too many questions. The perfect kind of person to keep around, someone who wasn't getting involved in the villain's business.

But when it came to pure desire, the hero was simply more tempting. It was about power.

The civilian wasn't a challenge in bed.

The hero on the other hand...

"Oh god...I can't-" The civilian gasped for air over and over again, coming very close to mimicking a panic attack.

"I can move out if you want, or you do. Whatever you like."

"I wanted to marry you, I - I love you, I..." The villain raised a lazy brow.

"We can still get married if you want to, but I'd like to screw the hero every now and then," the villain said. The civilian turned away, but the villain could obviously tell that they were crying harder now. They would have never brought this up, but unfortunately, the villain had gotten a bit lazy and the civilian had found out about the affair.

It wasn't the end of the world, but the villain had planned to keep the civilian around for a little longer. More than once, they had thought about proposing to the civilian out of pure necessity, but the amount of work linked to that, had spoiled the idea quickly.

"You don't have to decide now," the villain clarified. "It's an option, that's all."

The civilian's back was still turned towards them.

"I had so many plans for us," they whispered, almost mumbled the words. "What did I do wrong, why are you doing this to me...?"

The villain rolled their eyes.

"Like I said, it didn't mean that much to me. They're attractive. They showed up at my work. We fucked on the desk and started to meet regularly." A lot of lies. Technically, they had been flirting with each other for the last year. "Work" meant their usual nightly activities. The thing with the desk was true, though.

The civilian turned around, eyes bloodshot.

"Did they force you? Because they're the hero?" The villain pursed their lips. Interesting. It was probably pretty easy to turn themselves into a victim in this situation (the civilian was by no means rational right now), but they had already admitted that they wanted to meet the hero in the future, so keeping up with that lie was going to be exhausting.

"No," the villain said. "Their ass just looked great that night."

"I don't understand, I thought you loved me?! We've been together for three years..." The civilian wiped away their tears but new tears followed and followed.

"...I like your company, yes."

"That's it?"

Once again, the villain cocked their head, staring at the civilian.

"Come on. A hero. The hero. Who can say no to that? It's a sexual thing. Has absolutely nothing to do with you. You're great." They shrugged. "Stay here. Get some sleep. We can talk about the rest tomorrow."

The civilian stood there, didn't dare to move.

"My love, you must be exhausted."

The civilian took in a deep breath. They nodded.

"There we go," the villain said softly. "You look lovely right now, by the way."

It wasn't that the villain liked being cruel - they just couldn't help it.

[reneesghostinthelivingroom]

Date One

|| Jinx x fem!reader

|| Warnings; writing mostly in Jinx's pov, Jinx stalks reader, swearing, bar setting, Jinx pulls out gun on reader and her date, possessive Jinx, Jinx and reader get drinks, technically a forced date, mention of hostage situation, Jinx desperate for reader

|| Summary; when reader's out on a date, Jinx can't help but feel like that should be her. So she takes matters into her own hands.

Requests closed!

Started; December 22nd

Finished; December 22nd

HurtCember2024; Day 19, Desperate

~~~

Jinx had been stalking- no, not stalking. Not stalking. She was just... just following you! In the shadows. Following you in the shadows. Nothing- nothing wrong with that, was there? She liked you. Like. A lot a lot and was worried you wouldn't feel the same. So, she kept her distance. Still enjoying your presence. Your smiles, laughter and conversations. All without being there herself. Jinx practically felt like she knew you already! If she ever did decide to approach, conversation would be pretty easy. Wouldn't it?

Tonight you were at a bar. Laughing and talking up some random asshole and Jinx could feel her blood just boiling. Why were you happy with someone else? Why wasn't that her? She couldn't take it. She marched right over to you.

"Hey! Back off! She's mine, got it? Or do you need a little reminder?" Jinx held up her gun. Pointing it directly at the poor person who had dared to speak to you. You were hers. Fuck if she looked desperate right now. She wasn't about to let some- some loser just take you! No, no no no no. Not happening.

As for you, you were startled. What was Jinx doing here? Why was she claiming you were hers? You'd never even had a single conversation with Zaun's loose cannon and yet- here she was. Acting like she had the rights to be possessive over you. You knew better though, you knew to keep quiet. Not wanting to risk her turning around on you with that gun.

The poor person who had tried to talk with you quickly nodded. Shutting up almost immediately even just at the sight of Jinx. Jinx didn't need the gun to spook them. They dipped. You sighed. You kinda liked them.

Jinx felt a mix of smugness and pride swell up in her chest. She defended you. Saved you time on that worthless nobody. Who were they to think they could just- snatch you from her? She spun around. Looking directly at you. Her hips swayed as she approached. Her arms wrapped loosely around your shoulders, trailing her gun just behind your neck in a way that made all your hairs stand up. Your body was tense. A stiffness that didn't go unnoticed by Jinx.

"Aw... loosen up, a little! Is that any way to thank your hero~?" There was a teasing to her tone that sent you on edge.

"Jinx... why are you- how-" you didn't understand. She was talking like she knew you.

Jinx pouted at your reaction. You weren't jumping for joy. Why weren't you jumping for joy? You should have been throwing yourself in her arms! She was supposed to catch you and carry you off all romantic style! "What? Come onnnn, I just saved you! Where are your manners?" The last bit came out in an almost mocking whine. She poked your cheek with the barrel of her gun. Eyes locked to yours.

"I didn't- I didn't need-" you tried to stutter out that you didn't need saving. But the gun Jinx had against you was making you nervous.

"Pffch! Of course you did! Couldn't let 'em take ya from me, now could I? Hey! You could use a drink!" And just like that the conversation was switched up, Jinx was searching for the bartender. Didn't take her long to spot him," two..! Mm, what do you drink? I'm just messin', I already know~" she ordered two of your favourites. Your heart was in your throat. How did she know that?

The bartender placed the drinks down. One in front of Jinx and one in front of you, she happily drank from her mug," you got amazing taste. I'm not much for alcohol but this stuff is pretty good!"

Your mind was still trying catch up with what was happening. One minute ago, you'd been out on a date. Now you were... well you weren't exactly sure. It didn't feel like a hostage situation, Jinx didn't seem like she was going to hurt you. Just- excited to be talking to you," um.... th-thanks."

"You're pretty cute when you're all flustered, your cheeks are rosie!" She pointed out, setting the gun down to instead poke your cheek with her finger tip. A massive grin across her face," let's call today... date one! Don't worry about tracking little ole me down, I always know where you are~ thanks for the drink!"

And just as quickly as she had showed up, she was gone again. Leaving you with the bill. Wait- date?

[narcjsistx]

𝐑𝐔𝐍 𝐀𝐖𝐀𝐘 | OS

bachira meguru x fem reader ; words: 1.6k (1673)

coming from this event, seventh day, 24/12

𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ; take a look, trust me!

plot: running away from the cameras was the favorite thing you and meguru did every chance you got. your love was yours alone, why give the world just a small slice of everything you felt for each other? it would be a waste

Deciding to be together, so many years ago, had not been easy. You were both teenagers, you with your dream and he with his, and yet the red thread that tied your two fingers did not seem to want to break. Being together as an actual couple didn't seem like a feasible thing, even though you both wanted it

You liked Meguru Bachira from the very beginning. You began to understand that he would become your friend when, during recess in kindergarten, he was the only one interested in rocks like you. You began to understand that you cared about him when in elementary school he always showed you his collection of soccer balls, you who were his only friend. You began to understand that you loved him when, seeing him lose his childish features and take on those of a young boy, you wondered if he had suddenly become so handsome. You had seriously started to think that you loved him in a serious way and no longer as a simple crush when simply seeing him smile at you took your breath away

Bachira Meguru, on the other hand, understood that he loved you the moment you approached him, shy in your yellow apron

"What's your favorite rock?"

You had grown up together, seeing each other's changes. You were the only one her mother knew existed, the only one she considered a second daughter. There had been many afternoons in the past where he found you at his house, after finishing his training, chatting happily with Yuu as if it were nothing. His mother adored you, she loved you perhaps as much as her son loved you

Yuu knew his son, she knew that behind the tenderness with which he spoke to you there was a bigger feeling hidden, which he hid for the simple fear of distancing you from him. Yuu knew you too, and she knew that you loved his son back

Since you were a child, you dreamed of going to Spain, or more precisely living there. Since he was a child, Meguru dreamed of being able to play his soccer, the one he liked. You dreamed of going far away literally and he metaphorically

Neither of you would be with the other forever, that was the truth you didn't dare tell each other. Knowing this knowledge, neither of you would ever dare tell the other how you felt, or at least that's what you thought until the evening of the first day of the two-week vacation after the end of the U-20 match, when you found Bachira in front of your door professing his love for you

"I've realized a few things since I left, and the first is that it's no longer enough for me to just have the thought of loving you. You know I'm not the best with words, but you're the best at understanding me when I can't even... so I hope you can work your magic this time too and understand what I want to tell you"

Seeing him like this, so shy, was strange for you, who had been used to his chaotic side since you were children. But since he left there hadn't been a day in which you hadn't thought about him, how he was, how it was for him to know that he was chasing his dream. He had changed, and so had you, who had just accepted the request for an Erasmus in Spain for a year

But he didn't know that. And you didn't know that he was going to ask you to be his girlfriend

So yeah, deciding to be together all those years ago wasn't easy at all. You spent his two weeks off treating each other like a couple, even though you weren't actually one: you had walked under the moon, slept in each other's arms, you had even kissed a few times. But your flight left the day before he was due to return to the facility

"The flight is about to leave... I think I have to go"

"I know. Remember to be careful, in Spain they are different than us, more party-goers! But maybe you'll get used to it sooner than expected, knowing yourself"

"You're probably right. I'm going to Spain because I love their culture, you know"

"I know. But there's still something I don't know"

"What, Meguru?"

"Are we together or not?"

At the time, you had spent those two weeks wondering the same thing, wondering if he was actually yours and you were his. You thought about it because, even though you never said it out loud, you loved Meguru, you loved him so much. But the result was always the same: 'no, we are not together, you will continue your life here and for a year I will no longer be a part of your life, and maybe the year will become five and then ten'

But that wasn't what you told him

"Do you really want to be in a long distance relationship? I mean, you don't normally have much of a chance to talk to outsiders when you're in Blue Lock, and I won't be here when you have days off again. We'll never have time for each other, Meguru

"I didn't ask you that. Are we together or not?"

The question was simple, a yes or a no was enough. Yet, you didn't know which side to fall on

"It will be difficult, it will be for both of us"

"I know. But I'll live better if I know that you're my girl, Y/n-Chan!"

"Do you really want it that bad...?"

"Something like that. More or less since our first meeting, fifteen years ago"

Meguru was genuine, the best choice you could have made in all your lives. You knew he would never wrong you, hurt you, or get you angry

"We are together"

And so, from that moment on, you had done nothing but love each other with all the methods you could: messages and video calls when he could, letters sent to your new address and so much, so much love that you felt even without hearing from him for more than a few days. Spain was a beautiful sunny place, perfect for you and your character, but above all also for Bachira, who to your surprise had taken part in the Barcha club in Japan. While you were studying and living your dream, he was chasing a ball and living his dream; but you both lived with the knowledge of having each other, and it was so perfect for you

You hadn't seen each other for almost a year when Bachira told you that he would come to Spain to play his first match outside of Japan, and he would come to Barcelona, your city. So, after a year apart, you finally had the chance to hug and kiss your boyfriend again before the start of his match, with the entire stadium watching you. Some fans had recognized you as the same girl who ran to him to hug him at the end of the match against the U-20s, while others were now recognizing you as the alleged girlfriend of Lavinho's favourite, the girl the team captain held so tightly in his arms

The match ended with a victory for Barcha and a year long contact for your boyfriend. While you would return to Japan in a few months, he would remain in your new city. But this did not stop you from living in symbiosis for the remaining time, recovering all the contact that you had not been able to exchange from far away. You were finally with Bachira and you no longer had to just fantasize about being able to kiss him

"I don't even want to think about when you have to go back to Japan, it's like we're making a trade! I always want to be able to hold you in my arms, and yet you seem like you want to run away from me again"

"You know I don't like it either, but I can't stay here, I risk jail!"

"In prison for staying with your boyfriend? It doesn't sound so bad, Y/n-Chan!"

Yet, you had returned to Japan, leaving him far away from you again, this time with a slight increase in the possibility of texting you both than before. Everything was back to the beginning, and it was strange to think that until two years ago you had spent your whole life together, seeing each other every day but without kissing. But it all didn't last long: another Erasmus gave you the chance to go back to him, to Bachira, to your boyfriend. And so, everything went back to the beginning again, for your and his happiness

From that moment on, you had done nothing but run, run, and run again, always as far away from the cameras as possible; now that you finally had the chance to be together, why give others a show that was only for the two of you?. Meguru had become, however, in a short time, a star of the new generation of soccer, and consequently his fame had increased to the point that the cameras would do anything to have him theirs. And to know that Bachira, the striker of Barcha, was again with the girl he had kissed that day, his supposed girlfriend? This was even better, this made the cameras need you

The cameras wanted you, but you wanted more the kisses from your boyfriend, the ones he gave you while you ran hand in hand through the alleys of Barcelona, while you ran away from yet another newspaper that wanted to take a picture of you

You were together, you were actually a couple for more than two years. You hated the cameras and everything that included them, even Bachira thought the same thing. The cameras, if they had to be there, you would have wanted them only on the day you became Mrs. Bachira

TAG: @natmagaesp ; @kittenish0 ; @x3nafix ; @sirhamburrger

[studentinpursuitofclouds]

Okay so i wanna see some more headcanons of the farmer ready to kick someone's ass so how about this:

Someone who is jealous of the farmer or like someone on like the enemy side, decided to kidnap their spouse to try and either ransom them or lure the farmer out, thinking it will be an easy win.

Then suddenly the next moment, the farmer already arrived before they could send a message to them (either the farmer got help from Mr.Qi or they track them down themselves), absolutely filled with rage and is now seconds away from beating the kidnapper.

How would the SDV/SVE bachelors and bachelorettes react to that?

I probably got the fastest rush of inspiration because holy cow, this is such a funny and cool scenario. Thank you so much, dear anon, for your ask! Enjoy! 💕

_____________________________

The bachelors/ettes reaction to their kidnapping for revenge/ransom, where their spouse Farmer, furious, comes to rescue them

SDV bachelors/ettes:

"You're demanding... 500 gold bars for me? I'm worth twice that, you know, even more! That's just insulting..." The kidnappers had already regretted their scheme before Farmer arrived to rescue Elliott, because the writer's outrage is already giving them a headache. Even with a gag in his mouth he's still talking! And just when they think the day can't get any worse, Farmer arrived quickly and kicked their asses. "Can you believe it, they only asked for 500 bars for me! I'm worth more than that, right dear?" Elliott was indignant to the core. Farmer grinned as they freed Elliot from the ropes, confirming that he was worth much more than that.

Sebastian did not think that in such a situation he would feel so... annoyed. Sure, being stolen by strangers had instilled fear at first, but when the leader of the gang started telling a self-pity story about how "I deserved everything, not Farmer, now I've stolen their lover and they're gonna pay!", Sebby thought the leader was some kind of cartoon villain. How absurd. Farmer who came in a couple of hours later also looks annoyed when the leader started telling their "villain arc". But before they can start, they get a fist in the face from Farmer, going straight to the realm of dreams. This was where Sebastian chuckled, at least something here was funny.

Shane's kidnapper was confident and said with a snide smile that either Farmer paid 500,000 gold for Shane or Farmer would "get their spouse in pieces". "800,000 gold and I'll ask Farmer not to kill you specifically." The kidnapper was a little taken aback by those words and the fact that the chicken man was completely calm. It was as if he didn't care. When the leader heard the noise and shouts of his minions, whose voices were quickly silenced, he turned to Shane in a panic and pleaded: " I only have 100,000 gold! Please, mercy!" "Alright, deal." Enough for the coop upgrade that Shane and his spouse have wanted for a long time.

"Heyyy, chill bro. Let's just talk, ok?" Unfortunately, Sam's smooth speech was met with only a rude "shut up, worthless musician!" in his direction. "I'm actually pretty good on guitar... So rude.." he muttered. When Farmer, angry as an ox, entered the room where their husband and the leader of the kidnapping "party" were, the kidnapper tried to soften the situation for themself. "They called me a worthless musician." The kidnapper turned around in horror at a smirking Sam. "And they also hit me." It wasn't true, but the kidnapper was already pale as ghost when Farmer turned red with rage after Sam's last words.

"Let me go now, or I'll kick your asses!" Though the ropes around Alex were tight, the athlete was unwilling to give up without a fight and continued to break free. "Shut up! You're going to pay for what your stupid Farmer-" "Don't you dare say that about my spouse!" The bravery was commendable, but the kidnapper was losing patience by now and wanted to send him into a knockout. But ended up knocking out themself as they didn't notice Farmer behind them. "What an asshole. I would have punched them!" Farmer reassured their really angry husband, as if it was Alex who was saving Farmer from bandits, not the other way around.

"Oh, Yoba..." Harvey would never have thought he would be kidnapped by anyone, but here he is - tied to a pole, surrounded by the six thugs. "Now we have to send a letter to that Farmer, and wait for the ransom, hehe. Easy money!" Harvey had been here for half an hour and was starting to get a little worried, but then he saw something in the distance that helped him gain confidence. "I hope, my friends, you stole my first aid kit too." "Need a sedative, doctor?" The leader didn't even have time to laugh at their own joke before they felt a chill run down their spine and turned around to see Farmer, sword in hand and an angry look in their eyes. "Not for me. For you."

Neither the gag nor the ropes helped - Abigail, irritated and angry, kicked, bit, punched and screamed as hard as she could, not giving her captors a moment's peace. Even with her sword taken away, the fighting girl put on quite a show, which made the bandits decide that the idea of ransoming Farmer wasn't such a great idea anymore. They were just thinking of letting Abby go free when Farmer came in, just as angry as their purple-haired wife. Abigail took back her sword and stood beside her spouse. The kidnappers made a note that they (if they survive) vow to themselves not to steal any more adventurers.

"So much negative energy around you... My friend, you can't live like that!" No matter how much the kidnapper tried to say that Emily wasn't their friend, but enemy's wife, the blue-haired girl insisted on helping her captor. Yes, she realises she's been kidnapped, but the lair she wasn't kept in was so dark and stuffy that of course this poor person is only thinking evil thoughts! Farmer who had made a huge hole in the wall with a furious punch had at least brought in some light. To the villain lying unconscious, Emily would leave a note with "get well soon!", diet tips and exercises for mind and body.

The criminals who had kidnapped Haley decided that if they were going to get any money for the already-not-so-easy job, they were going to spend half of it on hearing care. Because Haley was screaming so loudly that it looked like the kidnappers' eardrums had already burst. Plus the girl didn't spare her manicure and scratched the gangsters' hands, and someone's face. The leader was already tired, but Farmer literally breaking through the wall of their lair made it clear that it wasn't the worst yet. And Haley, freed from the ropes, ran to hug Farmer. Of course she wasn't afraid, for she knew her spouse would rescue her!

Penny sat as quietly as a mouse, afraid to anger the two thugs guarding her cage. She still can't understand how she was just walking from the farmhouse in Pelican Town to get groceries and a minute later she was kidnapped and ransomed from Farmer for 100,000 gold. Yoba, she's so scared, where is her spouse...? The answer to her question was not long in coming: Farmer kicked open the cell door, knocked out the guards, and took Penny in their arms as they both left the room. The girl was still scared and confused, which made Farmer want to kick the kidnappers' arse again. But their beloved wife came first, everything else - later.

To Leah's credit, before the gang of kidnappers could tie her hands, the artist managed to knock out two of them and throw a sculpture hammer at the head of the gang leader. Even being kidnapped, the girl did not lose her courage, giggling a little at the leader, who, already with a bump on their head, goes back and forth and promises that she and her spouse will pay for all the "humiliations they have suffered in the past". What those "humiliations" were Leah didn't have time to ask (and didn't really want to know) before Farmer broke into the room, knocked out the rest of the bandits and put another bump on the leader's head. All this to Leah's cheers. She wasn't scared at all.

Maru kept calm and thought of an escape plan. "Okay, no big deal. I memorised the path when they dragged me here. Now I need to break the ropes on my arms, sneak past the guards, turn left and-" Maru couldn't think of her plan any further as her spouse, furious at their wife's kidnapping, kicked the wall completely and started punching all the bandits left and right. "Oh, alright then." Considering she had only been kidnapped for less than half an hour, Maru didn't even have time to be frightened before she was already free, making her way around the kidnappers who were lying on the ground unconscious.

SVE bachelors/etter:

To be completely honest, Lance wasn't even that angry at his captors so much as he was slightly ashamed that he, the second in command of The First Slash Clan, had allowed himself to be captured by the amateurs, even if they had used magic for this. He made a note to himself to resume certain training. The pink-haired man already wanted to burn his ropes with magical fire, but his beloved spouse Farmer, agitated and angry as a swarm of wasps, kicked all the bandits' asses with sword and magic. Lance broke his ropes and joined the fight as well, though at first, the adventurer wanted not to rush his release, but to watch Farmer in battle with admiration and love.

"Again?" No need for Magnus' kidnapper to be so surprised - he is already old wizard, so he's seen a lot of things in his life and has been kidnapped before. Once even by mages from Gotoro, but that's a story for later. And while the kidnapper was able to take the wizard by surprise and strip him of his magic, it wouldn't work that way with his dear spouse. To which the villain shouted "I'll take away the Farmer's magic too!" Maybe, but Farmer would just start beating them with their bare hands. Which is exactly what happened half an hour ago. The enraged Farmer didn't leave a wet spot on the poor fella, so Magnus even cast a healing spell.

"Scared, white collar? Will you call your mommy for help? Or your spouse? Ha!" In any other situation, Victor would really be shaking with fear and not understanding whether the kidnappers would really hurt him if Farmer didn't pay for his ransom. But his spouse was Farmer, a man who just yesterday had slaughtered a hundred serpents at Skull Cavern as if it were a routine outing. "I'm afraid you're the one who's going to need help." And immediately after those words, Farmer burst into the room, angry and covered in blood (not their own). The kidnappers were pale, and Victor hurriedly closed his eyes, because he'd never seen Farmer so angry before. Which meant the bandits would get hurt. A lot.

"This is outrageous! How dare you take me against my will and steal my jewellery! Dragging me here, in this damp and filthy place where rats run around! Disgusting!" If the kidnappers were expecting cries for help, tears and pleas for mercy from Olivia, they will be quickly disappointed. She's a combative woman, and even huge bullies can't intimidate the ex-Joja accountant. She's dealt with worse, believe her. Well, the thugs think they'll at least get their money's worth, Olivia's dressed rich. Yeah, right... they'll just get a hit from an angry Farmer who turned up as soon as they found out where the bastards had taken their wife.

"They will pay... For all my creatures of darkness that they destroyed in Badlands, for all their exploits that made me unable to take over the Valley. Farmer will pay. And you're going to help me do it! When they come for you, I'll- Hey, are you even listening to me?!" Please forgive Claire, but the poor girl was so tired (work + family) that she slept through both her kidnapping and the gang leader's speech. The cashier woke up already when she felt someone carrying her in the arms. Her spouse looked at Claire with a smile, saying that she should immediately take a vacation and rest. Lying on the ground criminals, unconscious? Um, that was... part of a dream, yes. Just a strange dream.

"I advise you to let go, because when the Farmer comes here, you'll be sorry." At Scarlett's attempts to reason with her captors, the gang only mocked the girl. "We're waiting for Farmer, dumbass, it's an ambush!" Scarlett just sighed tiredly and waited - she had no choice. The bandits had already set traps everywhere, but Farmer was not only good at fighting, but also smart, and made an ambush on the ambush. Then caught the kidnappers off guard and kicked everyone's ass. "Warned ya," Scarlett even felt a little sorry for the bandits - they wouldn't be walking normally for a while.

Not knowing what was happening, trembling at the predatory grins of the strangers, Sophia cried quietly, trying not to make too much noise so as not to anger her captors. The villains haven't had time to get the ransom yet, and already they're arguing over who gets more gold. Farmer broke through the wall, shocking everyone. The tears on their pink-haired wife's cheeks were enough for Farmer to see red, and all the kidnapper-losers were knocked out. Before Sophia could even realise what had happened, she was already, freed, clinging to he's spouse's neck as Farmer carried her in bridal style. "Just like a fairy tale.... 💖"

[weepingchronicles]

This may sound bland but can you do Jinx with a darling who has just been recaptured after they escaped a second time tyy

a/n: not bland at all! thank you for waiting and requesting this!

cw: mental breakdown mentions, kidnapping, stockholm syndrome(?), killing mentions, manipulation, yandere behavior, EXTREMELY unhealthy relationship guys, physical violence

❝yandere!jinx x gn!reader getting recaptured❞

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 It doesn't take very long for Jinx to catch you, even if you are thinking you're safe she is simply lurking, watching you until she decides it is time to take you back.

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 Her initial reaction when you escape is not very good. Full psychotic breakdown is what I'm saying. She will start hearing and seeing things, it's best to be slow and quiet to not risk getting accidentally shot.

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 She might even accidentally kidnap others who she mistakes for being you, simply killing them off after she realizes.

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 You're all her mind can think about, any other matter or responsibility she has right now is unimportant in her mind. Not that she thinks they were important anyway.

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 Once she finally finds you she wants to just knock you out and take you back where you belong but she stops herself. Like a feline, she lurks and watches you. Baiting her time to sink her claws into you. How did you manage to escape and what have you been doing since then? Who helped you?

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 If you got help from others or god forbid, start laughing and being all buddy buddy with someone they are gone. Gone, dead, bam. One reason is the impulsivity and her damn possessiveness. It is what makes her pull the trigger to anyone who stands too close to you. Another is to teach you a lesson, a valuable lesson that no matter what you can't escape her. She'll find you in the end and will kill anyone who knew about it.

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 A sadistic part of her gleams as you cry all pathetically, it almost makes her angry that you're crying about a bunch of losers who you barely even knew. You should be reaching out to her, crying for her.

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 She drags you home anyway, mumbling out a bunch of threats and battling the voices in her own head. If you want to survive without any bullets penetrating your body, it's best to keep quiet and listen.

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 Getting home isn't any better, the whole place is a mess. More than it was before. It's clear she lost her marbles when you left, from furniture thrown and bullet dents in the walls.

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 She'll toss you around, screaming at you for leaving her, pointing her gun just a little too close. She's erratic and there is no stopping her.

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 You flinch, ducking your head and shielding your head in a futile attempt of protection. You were scared of her. How could you not be? Jinx takes a pause, looking down at her gun in her trembling hand before throwing it over her shoulder completely.

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 She drops to her knees, wailing in tandem with you, perhaps even louder. Jinx clings onto you, grasping at your limbs and clothes like you're deprived oxygen.

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it, I wouldn't ever hurt you. I'm sorry, please don't leave me!" A part of Powder comes out of her and her desperation eerily resembles a broken child inside. Some piece of you aches despite the pain she's caused you. It isn't entirely her fault she is born this way, what her trauma caused her to be.

🚀 ୧ ‧₊˚ 🦈 You can't forgive her though, not after all that's been done but.. you can pretend. "Please don't leave me again," and you nod in response.

artist credits: @/iwantmoretime17 on instagram

[kaija-rayne-author]

DAV is maximized (made for?) Tank/Warrior players

Curiosity is absolutely one of my fatal flaws. I was sorta feeling shitty about the whole 'you probably just suck at the fighting system in DAV' thing.

Let me preface this with saying that I'm good with rogues. It's my usual playstyle and I almost always do a first run of any RPG as a rogue.

What I'm really not all that good at? Tanks. Pretty much any other class I'm at least suitably competent with. I mean, I can tank, but it's just not something I'm more than acceptably good at. I also have very little experience with them. I think I've tanked in 3 games? Out of the, it must be hundreds, of games I've played? I just don't prefer to tank. I'm a rogue/mage/healer style player. The one who backs up the tank or keeps them on their feet, y'know?

So, because curiosity will likely be the death of me at some point, and despite never wanting to touch it again, I made a warrior character in DAV. I just... had to know if it was me or the game. I suppose I enjoy actually being a good gamer more than I suspected. DAV offended my pride, perhaps. Self-awareness isn't comfortable.

That fighting system, that I had so much trouble with as a rogue (with other rogues and a mage as backup since we don't get our tank companions til later in act one) has, so far, been so fucking easy as a warrior I'm actually thinking of increasing the difficulty level.

DAV is just maximized for warrior players and people who like to bash barrels in, not any other class. Which is just shitty game design.

I suppose I should have seen it before. The rest of the companions you start with are all support characters. Two rogues and a mage. Your first companion you aquire is Bellara, also a rogue. Oops. Mage. Bellara is a mage. I forgor.

I dunno, I'm going to run this character until I get to the spot (when Harding receives her special ability) where I first wanted to rage quit as a rogue. But so far? I haven't died once. I'd gotten creamed numerous times as a rogue character by this spot in the game. I can go toe to fucking toe with a fucking ogre! And only have to heal once!

It's truly ridiculous. I'll test out mage after, if I can find the patience. It's reasonably unlikely that I'll actually decide to finish this run. Unless I do it for writing my fix it fic reasons . But I can kinda see more clearly why some people actually liked it. It's actually almost fun as a tank.

I did also say I'd never touch DAV again too, though, soooooo.

If you turn your brain completely off, don't give a shit about the Lore, and if the story is a back seat sort of thing for you as a gamer, this might actually be somewhat fun. It's not Dragon Age regardless, they screwed the pooch to sell the pups on that one. (I'm a Lore fiend, story and character first player. I legitimately don't give a shit about the fighting in RPGs. It's a back seat thing for me. As long as I can make it work, I'm good.)

SMDH

I said DAV was wickedly unbalanced in my review series, but I didn’t think it was so bad that they... just didn't bother to make it a fun game for rogue players. Despite them getting rid of half of what makes playing a rogue fun (sneaking, hiding in shadows, picking fucking locks, y'know, rogue stuff.) Not sure about mages yet. I do want to try one just out of pissed off, irritated curiosity, though.

Snorts. They made this game for warrior players. And I can't honestly find words to describe how shitty that is. It lacks most of the stuff that makes any RPG an actual RPG. It's maximized for warriors and people who like to destroy barrels. (Why. Why the fucking barrels?) Rogues are nothing but light skirmishers. I'll have to actually play a mage and see, but I've talked to people who said it's easy as a mage, too.

WTAF does BioWare have against rogue players to nerf the class so badly?

I'm honestly floored by how easy this game is as a warrior. I'll even test it out on max difficulty, (which is usually what I play at, max or one down).

But the shittiness of designing a game mostly for tank players can't be ignored. I changed nothing but the class. And I'm not far enough into the game yet for build to matter that much. I think I've gotten roughly 5 skill points to put into my character.

No wonder they denied game keys to honest reviewers.

[rita-repulsa-ke]

Caretaking

When she opened her eyes again, it was close to dusk and there was a fire merrily burning in front of her, a pot hanging over it. For a moment, she wondered if she was dreaming, back in some time when her boy was alive and the world still made sense.

But no, the person poking at the contents of the pot wasn't Nicky, but someone equally familiar.

Agatha and Rio, post-breakup. Agatha is sick. Vaguely references Death Gets Sick and Agatha and Illness.

Agatha Harkness was not sick.

Yes, she had a miserably high fever, full body chills and deep muscle aches, but getting sick was for lesser people, people who weren’t powerful witches with important things to do. She didn't have the time to get sick and so she simply refused to be.

Her body, unfortunately, seemed to have other ideas, which was how she found herself tucked up against a tree, her cloak pulled around her, half-conscious and soaked in a thin layer of clammy sweat. She was too tired to even start a fire, only able to toss and turn and eventually fall into a restless, uncomfortable sleep.

When she opened her eyes again, it was close to dusk and there was a fire merrily burning in front of her, a pot hanging over it. For a moment, she wondered if she was dreaming, back in some time when her boy was alive and the world still made sense.

But no, the person poking at the contents of the pot wasn't Nicky, but someone equally familiar.

"Oh," she croaked, her voice coming out dry and scratchy, her tongue tasting like something had died in her mouth. "It's you."

Rio glanced up at her, and as familiar as that face was, there was still something alien in the other woman's regard, a mix of adoration, uncertainty and anger. Agatha had done nothing to spare Death's feelings lately whenever she did dare show her face, had used every cruelty she could think of to try and tear at Rio, with the simple, human goal of hurting someone else as badly as she hurt.

"…I made tea," her former lover said, almost tentative. Her lips quirked slightly. "It's willowbark, but it's not as strong this time. Do you want some?"

No, Agatha wanted to say. I don't want anything you've made, I don't want your kindness or your pity, I don't want you taking care of me when you tore out my heart. "…Fine," she murmured sullenly instead, because she was tired and sore and she didn't have the energy to fight.

And maybe because Rio had said 'this time' and for a moment, she'd missed the time when things were easier between them.

She let the other woman bring her a cup in a chipped traveler's mug, held it carefully between shaking hands and sipped it. "…Not bad," she admitted after a moment. "I still seem to have taste buds, at least."

"I grew the tree to make it," Rio said. "But I used less. I made soup, too. You always used to want soup when you were sick." The wistful, nostalgic tone in her voice twisted Agatha's stomach worse than the illness, made her nauseous in a way that had nothing to do with her body.

"You made soup?" she said, talking to keep herself from thinking. "On your own? …Rio, you did remember that people can't eat rotten meat, right? Or—" her lips curved in a mocking smile. "Have you finally decided to break the rules and kill me after all?"

Rio ladled her out a bowl of soup. "I remember what you can eat, beloved. Besides, if I wanted you dead, I'd have put poison in the tea."

Agatha looked at the mug in her hand and shrugged, sitting up a little more from the pitiful slump she'd been in. Half a mug of tea had already improved her outlook on life, numbing the throbbing headache behind her temple. She suspected there was magic in it, since it shouldn't have worked so quickly, but the kind of annoyingly latent magic Rio could manage, the desire to see Agatha made better manifesting in the tree she'd grown to make tea with.

"Fine, I'll try the soup," she decided, because—well, because why not?

Rio looked up and smiled at her as though Agatha had offered her the world on a platter, not a chance to feed her some likely terrible soup. She filled a bowl and brought it over, let Agatha put the mug on the ground and watched her with anticipation as she took a sip.

Agatha managed to spit the soup mostly back into the bowl, at least, and not all over herself. "…Rio," she asked, her voice the kind of patient they both knew indicated trouble. "How many onions?"

Rio glanced back at the pot, then at Agatha, offering an uncertain shrug. "…You like onions."

Agatha shoved the bowl back in the other woman's hand. "Dump that slop out and just do what I say, okay?"

She couldn't look directly at Rio, the sheer adoration in the way her former lover gazed at her was both sickening and also slightly, comfortingly familiar. "Yes, beloved," Rio agreed, dumping out the soup and letting Agatha tell her what to put in it, growing the things she didn't have to hand with no thought at all, still the most impossible magic Agatha had ever seen.

Agatha drank two cups of tea, then leaned back with her eyes closed as the soup cooked. She was aware of Rio settling on the ground next to her and ignored it, though the other woman was so close Agatha could feel the heat from her body.

Then she felt fingers slide through her hair and slapped Rio's hand away with vicious force, eyes flying open. "Don't touch me," she snapped, then froze at Rio's expression.

The other woman let out a long, slow sigh, very close to a groan. "There we go, that's my Agatha," she said, almost to herself, before her attention snapped fully back to Agatha. "I don't have to, you know. I don't have to be kind, Ags. I don't have to take care of you."

"No one asked you to," Agatha snarled, trying to pretend she hadn't, however briefly, felt a sharp stab of fear at the way Rio had looked at her. "Your tendency to alternate creepy acts of devotion with violence isn't my fault."

Rio was almost on top of her, her fingers through Agatha's hair, palm against her cheek, too fast for Agatha to do more than blink. "But how would I explain it to Nicky," Rio murmured. "If I left his mother alone like this?" She pressed her lips hard to Agatha's forehead. "He misses you, beloved. Come home soon."

And then she was gone, touch and weight and heat all vanishing, leaving Agatha with tears in her eyes, caught between fury and sorrow and, as always, deliberately choosing fury. "You don't say his name!" she snarled, power crackling across her fingers. "You don't—I hate you! Do you hear me?? I'll always hate you." She scrubbed her hand over her eyes. "…Give him back to me," she whispered to no one, sagging, exhausted, against a tree.

After a little while of misery so deep she couldn't even manage to cry, she did get up and get herself a bowl of soup. It was very good, a soup made out of memories, the same soup her mother had made for her when she was ill and that she had made for her lover once and for her boy many, many times.

She took one bite, then threw the bowl aside and retched helplessly, the taste of better times coating her tongue.

masterpost or click this link to go to a random post on this blog, which will probably be a fic of some kind

[captainsophiestark]

My Hero

Steve Rogers x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Fandom: Marvel

Summary: Steve's next door neighbor needs a hand moving in a bunch of science equipment, so he offers to help. But he's in for a surprise when he realizes that the neighbor in question has absolutely no idea who he is.

Word Count: 2,456

Category: Fluff

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

"Uh, excuse me? Do you need help with that?"

My arms were full carrying test tubes and other scientific equipment, so I couldn't see who'd spoken. I'd just bought a new apartment in Washington DC, and when it was time to move all my furniture in I drafted a bunch of strong friends to help me. All my delicate, expensive machines and glass test tubes, on the other hand, I didn't trust anyone else to move, so I'd decided to do it all by myself.

That was proving to be more of a challenge than I'd initially anticipated.

I managed to carry my last load to the elevator of my building without help, but with my hands this full I had no way to push the 'up' button.

"Uh..." I said, pausing to consider just for a second before admitting defeat. I sighed. "Yeah, if you wouldn't mind just pushing the up button for me. And then... maybe my floor number after that."

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw whoever'd offered their help move around me to push the button on the elevator. I had my stuff piled up so high that I couldn't see them, but after they'd pushed the button, they hovered nervously next to me.

"Are... are you sure you don't want a hand with the rest of that?"

"Nope, I'm good," I said, raising my voice just a little to make sure I was heard over the stack in my arms. "Thanks, though."

"Sure thing."

The elevator dinged, and I headed in, trusting the person who I assumed was a neighbor in the building to stay out of my way. I caught a glimpse of him as I walked into the elevator, since he'd stepped forward to make sure the door didn't close on me. I shot him a smile, although I doubt he'd actually been able to see it.

"Which floor?"

"Three, please."

"Hey, that's mine too."

I smiled again. "Well then, it's nice to meet you neighbor. Unless we've already met before. Sorry, I can't see a whole lot around this stuff in my arms."

The guy chuckled. "No, I don't think we've met before. But it's nice to meet you, too."

The elevator dinged again as we reached our floor and the doors slid open. I stepped out first, my new friend following behind me.

"Is there anything else I can do to help...?" he asked, and I could feel him hovering around me. I paused, weighing my options. I stopped in the hallway and made a point of leaning around the stack in my arms to look at the man who'd been helping me. He was tall, blond, and clearly very strong. He looked nice enough, but that obviously didn't mean much. Still, he'd been very helpful and respectful so far, and he hadn't tried to push his "help" on me by taking anything out of my arms, either. Besides, if I hadn't been able to hit an elevator buton, a doorknob was definitely going to defeat me.

"Well... if you wouldn't mind getting my apartment door for me? It's 3C, just down on the left. It's unlocked."

"Sure thing. I'm 3F, right across from you."

"Wow. I can't believe I've never run into you before."

"Yeah, well... part of my job is keeping weird hours."

I frowned as we reached my door. I was able to walk through, no problem, thanks to my neighbor's help, and I turned all my focus to the stack in my arms as I set it gently, carefully down on the counter. I sighed once it was officially safe and sound, then turned back to my neighbor.

"What's your job?"

He frowned, but it did absolutely nothing to diminish just how incredibly handsome he was. Especially now that I wasn't distracted, and I could see my neighbor without obstruction, including his gorgeous blue eyes and how strong he looked.

"You're asking... what my job is?" he asked, as if to clarify. I nodded.

"Yeah. Should I not be?"

He blinked at me for another moment, then shook his head quickly.

"No, no, it's great. Uh, I do some work for SHIELD."

"Oh, yeah! You know, I applied there, but I ended up going with a job at Stark Industries instead. Most of their stuff's in New York, but I managed to snag this D.C. post. I'm hoping to move up to New York soon, though."

"You work for Stark Industries?"

"Heck yeah I do! Biochemistry research and development. And I guess you probably can't tell me what you do at SHIELD."

The corner of his mouth pulled up.

"Probably."

"Fair enough. Well, look, I don't usually invite strange men into my apartment, but since I'm not sure I could've made it back up here without your help, do you want something to drink? A lemonade or a coffee or something?"

The guy had a slightly bemused look on his face, but he nodded all the same.

"That'd be great. Thanks."

"Sure thing." I moved towards the kitchen, motioning for him to follow me and shut the door behind him. "By the way, I don't think I ever officially got your name."

He smiled like I'd just given him the best news of his life.

"I'm Steve. It's nice to officially meet you."

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

Inviting Steve in for a drink turned out to be one of my best decisions since moving to DC. He was an absolute sweetheart, kind and funny, and after our first meeting we started regularly spending time together. Those casual hangouts had gradually turned more date-like, and not long after that first meeting, we'd started officially dating.

Steve had become a constant presence in my life. He'd be there to make me coffee just the way I liked when I got so buried in my at-home experimenting that I lost all concept of self-care, and I'd be there with my special extra-strength version of icy hot that Steve swore by when he came home from long shifts at SHIELD. He'd pretty quickly become an integral part of my life, and one that I didn't want to let go of any time soon.

So, when my phone rang mid-experiment and I saw the caller ID was a bad picture of Steve I'd taken last week, I actually smiled instead of scowling like I would've at an interruption from anyone else.

"Hi," I said, picking up the phone and moving it to rest between my shoulder and ear as I got back to work. "What's up?"

"Hi. I have a friend with me who I'd like you to meet. Would it be alright if we came over? Say... in an hour?"

I paused, eyeballing the bubbling beakers and test tubes still laid out on the table in front of me.

"That depends. Do you care that I'll have some of my work set up and running on the kitchen table? And can you promise your friend won't knock anything over or otherwise ruin what I'm working on?"

I could hear the smile in Steve's voice as he responded.

"No, I don't mind, and yes, I'm sure he won't ruin your experiment."

"Then sure, come on over!"

"Great. We'll see you in an hour."

"See you then!"

I paused long enough to put the phone back on the table, then went right back to my work. I got so absorbed in it, the next hour absolutely flew by. I'd just managed to get things to a stable point, where I could leave it alone until tonight or tomorrow with no problems, when a knock came at the door.

"One second!" I called, standing and grabbing my phone before doing a quick scan of my apartment to make sure I hadn't left out anything embarrassing. Thankfully, it was clean enough. I went to do the door and opened it with a smile on my face, expecting to see Steve with a friend.

Steve was there, as expected. But behind him, standing just over his shoulder with a friendly smile on his face, was Dr. Bruce Banner.

"Oh my god," I gasped, my hands flying to my mouth. Steve and Dr. Banner both looked surprised, but I couldn't even begin to process that. After a moment's stunned silence, I managed to drag my eyes from Dr. Banner himself back to my boyfriend. "Steve... is this... is this the friend you were talking about?"

"I- yeah. Yeah, this is Bruce."

I let out a squeal that I was not proud of. I quickly cleared my throat, trying to cover it, then stepped back and opened my door wider for the both of them.

"Sorry, sorry. Please, come in. It's just... Steve, why didn't you tell me you were friends with the Dr. Bruce Banner?"

Steve looked absolutely shocked. "You... recognize him?"

"What? Of course I do! Dr. Banner's the entire reason I decided to take the job with Stark Industries, instead of with SHIELD!" I took a deep breath, then shook my head and turned to Dr. Banner. "I'm sorry. I'm being incredibly rude. It's an absolute honor to meet you, seriously. Your biochemical PhD thesis is... at least half the reason I decided to go into the field in the first place."

Dr. Banner looked a bit stunned, but he had a faint smile on his face, which grew as I spoke to him. He held out his hand for a shake, which I happily accepted.

"I'm... happy it had such a positive impact. It's nice to meet you too. And please, call me Bruce."

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak in response to that. Steve was still looking at me like I was an extra-difficult rubik's cube, and I silently raised my eyebrows at him in question. Before he could answer, Bruce aparently caught sight of my setup on the table.

"Wow. Is this yours?"

"Yeah!" I said, turning excitedly to watch as he moved to look over my experiment. "I've been spending my freetime outside of SI working on it."

"It's impressive!"

I swear I almost blacked out.

I was about to head over to the table to keep engaging with Bruce about my experiments, but before I could, Steve caught my arm. I turned around to face him again with raised eyebrows.

"Hey. Sorry, I didn't mean to totally cold shoulder you. It's just... this is like a dream right now."

"I can't believe you know who he is," he said, sounding a little strange, although I couldn't put my finger on why. I frowned.

"What do you mean?"

"...Do you really not know who I am?"

Steve seemed seriously suspicious of something, and I was starting to think he'd accidentally sniffed one of Bruce's experiments in a SHIELD lab that he shouldn't have.

"Steve, what are you talking about? Of course I know who you are. You're my boyfriend, an absolute sweetheart, and one of the only people I've ever met who got to watch Star Wars without already knowing about the 'I am your father' reveal. Why would you think I don't know you? Did you get exposed to a biohazard? Let me get my kit-"

I started to head off towards the bedroom, but he pulled me back. He looked calmer now, more himself, but deadly serious as he spoke.

"I'm Captain America. Steve Rogers, Captain America. That's how I know Bruce. I was going to find a better time to tell you, but... I didn't expect you to know who Bruce was, either. Feels like I should probably address it now."

I just stared blankly at him for a few moments, trying to decide if he was serious. Steve looked braced for whatever my reaction might be, shock or disbelief or anger or whatever else, but I just pulled out my phone. A quick internet search confirmed that, yes, Steve Rogers my boyfriend was the same Steve Rogers from the 1940s, also known as Captain America. I stared at the screen for another few moments, my mind updating with this new information, then I looked back at Steve.

"...Why didn't you tell me earlier?"

He sighed. "I should've. I'm sorry. It was just... nice. To have somebody look at me for once and see me, not the shield or the legend or whatever. It was selfish, and I should've fixed the mistake a long time ago."

I thought about it for another moment, then finally, I shrugged.

"It's okay."

"...Really? Just like that?"

"Yeah. Honestly, Steve, it doesn't really change anything for me, other than now I know why you like my version of icy hot better than anything else out there when it's literally too strong for anyone else to stand. But... thank you for telling me."

Steve stared at me for a second in disbelief, then grinned.

"You're serious?"

"Yeah. Now, with all the love in the world, let's hug it out later. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity for me to get feedback on my experiment from Bruce Banner himself."

Steve just laughed as I turned around to join Bruce at the dining table. He was perfect, as usual, as I talked to Bruce for over an hour about the project I'd been working on. Thankfully, this was one occasion when "never meet your heroes" didn't prove to be true. Bruce was kind and wonderful and helpful at every turn, and after a while, we moved on from science to chat about other things, looping Steve back into our conversation. Neither of them could believe I'd recognized Bruce and not Captain America, but they both seemed pleasantly surprised by it.

Bruce ended up staying for dinner, and by the end of the night, he actually felt like a friend instead of the larger-than-life scientist who'd been my inspiration for so long. Steve and I stood in the doorway of my apartment waving as he headed out for the night, then stepped back inside with matching smiles on our faces.

"That was one of the best days of my life," I said. Steve just laughed.

"I'm glad I could help facilitate it. And I think Bruce had a great time, too. You're... sure you don't care about the Captain America thing?"

I grinned. "I'm sure. Sorry, Cap, but I've never really cared about the jock superheroes."

Steve laughed again, pulling me into his side as he did.

"Honestly, I'm glad to hear it. You wanna put on a movie?"

"Sounds like a perfect end to the day to me. You pick one out, I'll get us some drinks and popcorn."

Steve smiled, then pulled me in for a quick kiss before haeding towards the tv in the living room. I headed towards the kitchen, a ridiculous smile on my face. I'd met my idol today, but the wonderful man in the living room was what really made things perfect. No matter who or what else he might be to the world, he'd always be my Steve. He never needed to be anything else.

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

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury @kmc1989 @space-helen @misshale21

Marvel Taglist: @valkyriepirate @infinetlyforgotten @sagesmelts @gaychaosgremlin

[shadowonwater]

MP100 Fic Recs: Reigen Gets Possessed and has a Bad Time

A collection of fics about Reigen getting possessed and having a bad time. Most of these are about a random spirit possessing Reigen and trying to pass themselves off as him.

The fics are complete unless I mention otherwise.

Feel free to recommend more fics to add to the list!

Mother by Sunlolli

Reigen's got some mommy issues. His mom dies and starts haunting him. The espers in Reigen's life don't want to get rid of her without Reigen's permission but she's really messing him up and he just wants to get some approval from her. Story is a bit depressing but very good.

In Quicksand by SpiritusRex

Reigen gets possessed and gets sick. Unreliable narrator Reigen. Don't worry, the spirit gets caught pretty quickly, and Reigen ends up fine.

Use Your Words by CowardlyBean

Reigen gets possessed by a spirit that hates espers. He's stuck in the backseat of his body while it pilots him around, pretending to be him. It's an ass towards Serizawa and Mob. Of course the other characters figure out something is wrong.

symbiosis by ruthwrites

AU in which ???% is a separate entity from Mob and it's made of energy and jumps from esper to esper. When Mob gives Reigen his power during the 1st Claw arc, ???% goes with that energy. Problem is that it didn't go back to Mob, it got stuck in Reigen. I recommend the whole series, the series is kind of depressing though. Reigen really goes through it in this series. I don't want to give too much away but... Reigen isn't gonna come out of this very... human. Each entry in the series is completed, however I can't help but feel the series itself isn't completed, it seems to end on what would be the start of this AUs version of the Separation Arc. It's a bitter ending.

A Mirror Darkly Shattered by BinaryDreams1010

Reigen gets possessed after a failed exorcism. The spirit gives him nightmares about not being important in the lives of those that Reigen cares about in an attempt to break his spirit to make it easy to take over his body.

you are coming down with me (overwhelming identity) by destituteDenouement

It started with a morning smoke and forgetting to water his plant. It's a slowburn of a possession. The spirit really loves smoking. Falling into bad habits was what caused Reigen to be susceptible to this particular spirit. Serizawa and Mob realize something is wrong when Reigen has stayed holed up in his home for two days and won't answer any of their calls. After all his said and done Mob and Reigen talk about how neglecting yourself is a spiral and that everybody has parts of themselves they don't like.

miss me (love me) or you'll miss me (lose me) by BinaryDreams1010

A spirit that feeds on souls/misery jumps from a customer into Reigen. He decides to let Serizawa handle the spirit the next day but he finds himself unable to work up the energy to leave his apartment the next morning. The spirit keeps trying to make Reigen upset by saying stuff like "will anybody miss you when you're gone?" Serizawa visits to check up on him, right on time to save Reigen and get the spirit to let go of his soul.

did you get hurt? by afjakwrites

Reigen gets possessed and tries to call in sick to get away from the espers. Of course the espers show up at Reigen's apartment anyway. The spirit ends up knocking over Mob because it's scared of him. But Reigen's worry over Mob knocks the spirit out of his body.

Black and Red Smoke by Kirii_Kitten

Reigen catches a possession off a customer who he didn't realize was actually possessed. The spirit causes hallucinations. (Story is unfinished.)

The Possession and Bad Time are Only Sort-Of Related

There is possession, and Reigen having a bad time. They are related but the possession isn't the only problem and IS also the result of another problem.

Area Hysteria by c_c_cherry

Reigen and Dimple visit a worn down building slated for demolition to get rid of a spirit. The building collapses with them in it. Dimple is fine, Reigen isn't. Dimple posses Reigen's body to help keep him alive and hope for rescue soon. Reigen gets rescued... eventually. But this isn't the end to the problems because Reigen ends up in sort of supernaturally-induced coma that Mob has to get into his head to get him out of. Long story. Marked as unfinished but ends at a really good stopping point. (Update: It started updating again)

Temporary Accommodations by Originia

Mob's body gets his stolen and he uses his astral projection power to wing up in Reigen's body to protect Reigen because some guys who want to kill him don't realize that he's not the psychic they're after. They also were the one's to still Mob's body as bait to get Reigen.

Dead Reigen Possessing his Own Body

Wasn't sure whether or not to count this. I guess his body is getting possessed and he is having a bad time.

Haunting My Own Skin by Kirii_Kitten

Reigen dies and then posses his own corpse to pretend that everything is normal. Dimple is concerned that Reigen's spirit is going to corrupt, his fears are well-founded. Reigen gets found out of course and things go to shit, but there is a happy ending.

Present but Not Main Focus

A longer work where various things happen in it, including an instance of Reigen getting possessed and having a bad time.

In Other Words by nozokao

As a whole, this fic is focused on Reigen and Serizawa's relationship and them getting together. In Chapter 7, Reigen gets very briefly possessed by a spirit he and Serizawa were trying to exorcise. Also in chapter 3 and 4, Reigen gets cursed by a spirit that makes him cold (not exactly possession but I thought I'd mention it).

[rei-ismyname]

Magneto joins the Young Avengers part 2

After a while traipsing through Transia and picking up Pietro, the squad find Wanda. Except she's a Doombot. Seems like a pretty solid clue as to where she is.

Upon heading to Latveria, it comes to light that Wanda is living with DOOM and they're getting married tomorrow. She also has amnesia, so even if she were inclined to marry DOOM (she's not) she can't consent anyway. The plan is for Magneto to cause a ruckus and everyone else stealthily extract her.

Checking in with the Avengers, suddenly they're very interested in finding Wanda. Nobody gives a reason, except for Wolverine who wants to kill her and Billy, and Wonder Man who wants to prevent that. Logan engages in childish dickwaving.

'Guess I hit a nerve' says the man doing his best to antagonise everyone and murder women and children. He has no business accusing anyone of having inappropriate feelings for a teammate. Iron Man says something clever - 'we don't need Wolverine for this mission.' No, you don't. In fact none of you should be involved.

Anyway, they storm Latveria and then accuse everyone else of starting an international political crisis. I don't see anyone else acting with a mandate from the UN and US. Also, they did bring Wolverine. Surprisingly, he tries to kill Wanda.

You'd think Logan would be sympathetic to her situation, and think twice before demonising others for killing people. Nope.

The Avengers 'take command' of the situation and scold everyone for attracting Doombots. Nobody mentions that they didn't come out until the Avengers did. They take issue with Magneto fighting DOOM for some reason, as if one of the worst people around isn't taking advantage of his daughter's amnesia to marry her. I swear I'm not cherry picking here - The Avengers just escalated a situation that was in hand.

The Young Avengers, Wanda and Magneto leave them to it and look to reverse Wanda's M Day spell. Patriot ruins it, arguing that they should wait for the Avengers. Wanda gets her memory back and resurrects the Avengers she killed. Speed is disillusioned with this whole thing and Wanda is bombarded with so much aggression she decides to kill herself. Before she can, Beast asks her to try reversing the spell again and Magneto agrees. They need a volunteer though. Meanwhile, The Avengers are rushing to get to Wanda, because only they are allowed to fuck things up. They even bring Logan.

A volunteer is found, and Rictor's powers are restored! Good news, right? Well, the X-Men are still pretty mad about M-Day tbh. At least they have the excuse of massive trauma, but they're definitely being dicks. They manage to avoid the spell in favour of unspecified punitive punishment.

LOL. This, the Avengers object to, claiming they take care of their own. That's objectively false, but there's a hierarchy to the Marvel universe and The Avengers must always look better than the X-Men. Magneto is the most reasonable person here by far, and for some reason The Avengers shit on all their allies. Demonising Wanda until someone else starts doing it, ignoring that they have a legitimate grievance and that this problem is the Avengers' fault.

Next time, Hawkeye raping Wanda is played for humour, the superheroes fluff the situation, Wanda finally gets some agency, and this shitstorm concludes. Children get their souls crushed.

[amateurplanner]

@ofhiddenastute

[MJ caught me off guard with her question... My gut told me to tell her the truth. To enthusiastically say "yes," and then proceed to explain how she ended up with that infamous necklace. Of course my enthusiasm would take over, though, I'd continue telling her every detail I could remember, not only about that trip, but about our entire relationship too, and I'd probably end up scaring her away by saying too much, too soon, as a result. Prompting me to pause and think before deciding how I should respond to it. Deciding to write it off as more of a hypothetical type of narrative without actually opting to straight out answer her question] It would be something, wouldn't it? If we had met previously and we had all this history together, you know? If I was there when you got that necklace, or funnier yet, I was the one who got it for you, but due to one setback and interruption after another, it got broken before you received it... [Letting amusement rest across my lips as I painted the narrative out in front of her. Maybe a part of me curious if my choice of wording would trigger any memories for her about that time in Europe. And hey, if it didn't, I could write it all off as a crazy, hypothetical story and nothing beyond that. It would sting having to do that, but it would be easier for her... Safer for her given the danger she'd be in all over again if she remembered who I was and just how well we actually know each other] So, I can't remember is I ever asked you, but how did you get that cut on your forehead? [Again, just trying to test the waters now... Curious if she remembered any part of that night where she got hurt... The horrific night of that last battle where I nearly lost her at the hand of Green Goblin had Peter three not leaped into the air to save her... The same night where everything went to hell and we were forced to kiss each other good bye... The night I lost everyone that I loved... I hadn't seen her again after that night. That is until I finally mustered up the courage to face her in that coffee shop this morning, and now here we were in our favorite date night restaurant]

ofhiddenastute

[She looked beautiful when she opened the door. I’m talking, take my breath away beautiful. I mean, a different kind of take my breath away, since I was out of breath swinging here, so I made it on time. Either way, she looked great. It brought me with a sense of relief because I know MJ rarely dressed up. Typically she only did if she was forced to, or if she was really excited about something. Given that she wasn’t forced to go on this date with me tonight, I knew she must be dressed up because she was excited about it. At least I hoped that was the case, cause I knew I was. MJ and I had come so far with each other over the years. We went from being two people who got on each other’s nerves, to eventually tolerable of each other, in time friends, and then more time after that, I realized I had a crush on her. Lucky for me, she liked me too, and well, our relationship just blossomed from there. Then this multiverse stuff happened, and Strange had to work up that spell that everyone would forget who I was, in order to save the world, and now here MJ and I were back to being strangers. Well, one-sided strangers, I should say, since I knew everything about her. It was me who was the stranger to her. I thought silently to myself as I ultimately held up the busted bouquet of flowers in front of her. Needless to say I was pretty embarrassed that our first date since her memories were wiped of me, and I brought her busted flowers. Beyond that though, I had to wonder why I even brought her flowers, cause I knew MJ didn’t like them. She found things like flower bouquets to be lame and a waste of money. In my defense though, I didn't  technically pay for these since they were swiped from someone’s garden on my way here] Got it, and don’t worry, I’ll always show up. [Okay, I promised that a little faster than I should have, since that wasn’t a promise I’d always be able to uphold, given that I was Spider-man. You never know when crime might happen, and my plans might need to suddenly change, as a result. I’d just cross that bridge when the time comes though, I guess] You’re right, some dogs really are no joke. [I muttered out awkwardly. Knowing MJ like I did though, I knew she didn’t buy my dog excuse. Note to self, come up with better excuses going forward] Same. I’m starving too. I was really excited for today, so I haven’t eaten anything but that doughnut. [I admitted] I think you’ll like this place I’m taking you to. [Truthfully, I already knew she liked this place, since it’s where I took her on our first date after we returned from our trip to Europe, and we had gone there a lot since then too. I considered optimistically as MJ joined me here on the porch. Out of instinct I nearly reached over to take her hand in my own, but knowing, from MJ’s perspective that we just met, I knew that sort of gesture would probably scare her off… Well, either that or she’d slap me. Maybe both. I silently told myself as I waited until she was at my side, and we started toward the direction of the Italian restaurant I was taking her to] Thanks for agreeing to go out with me tonight. [I eventually said with a nervous smile as I peered over at her. I wasn’t really sure what to walk about with her… You know, without sounding stupid or creepy, so I went with the first thing that came to mind] So, you excited for Christmas? [Lame, Peter. Seriously, get it together. I silently scolded myself. In my defense though, I had to be careful with my topic choices, or else I’d give away something I already know about her, and risk creeping her out, as a result]

[airbrushfather]

do you think they got each other christmas presents (i am talking about my ship again)

[oh-meow-swirls]

i think this was funnier in my head.

[peppermintack]

show tempe gang crossover with the morris islanders would actually have been the best episode of bones ever. btw