#i had my opponents on the back foot then and tonight too

[blue-hi]

my friends have been concerned about me because they noticed my bruising, but that’s just because i get hit with swords for fun now. maybe they should be concerned though because i cannot FUCKING defend my upper right arm apparently, i got hit there last week in class, in the exact same spot during the tournament on friday, and again just tonight

[parkerluvsu]

Sorry if i'm asking for too much but girl we desperately need a full fic of cowboy!Art 🛐. Like Art seeing another cowboy approach you and him feeling so jealous and possessive even you're not his yet and him finally finding the courage to confess his love to you but you reject him or something and he starts working harder to get you to accept him 🧎‍♀️🛐

omg not asking for too much at all!!! tried to make this as long as i could but im just so bad at translating my thoughts to words so.. hope u like it <3 (also no i don't know anything about cowboys or rodeos so please forgive me)

PonyBoy (Art Donaldson)

cowboy! art donaldson x fem! reader

late summer nights in july were always your favorite, the captivating sunsets and low-flying june bugs only adding to your enjoyment. usually, people in your small town could be found smoking or knitting on their creaky front porches on a pretty night like this but tonight was a special occasion, with every person who could manage the walk to the outskirts of town or snag a ride in the bed of a truck packed into the rickety seats of the outdoor arena, waiting for the rodeo show to begin. you near the entrance to the venue, tapping your foot anxiously. the most famous rodeo cowboy in your town, art donaldson, is facing another challenger from the next town over. of course you wanted your cowboy to win, there's always been rivalry between your two towns, and now that there was an outlet to outperform each other, both towns showed out for their cowboys.

art donaldson had been the talk of the town since he hit the scene a couple years ago, renowned for his skills and many trophies in rodeos across the state but especially popular among young women and men who found themselves extremely attracted to his strong frame and pretty blond hair. you never caught onto the craze though, thinking he was too good to be true. you'd been scorned a few times in your life by those pretty cowboy types, so you just leaned back in your seat and watched as fans of art crowded around the entrance where he would soon emerge.

as the lights dim over the arena the crowds roars become louder, the claps and woops of fans young and old echoing through the space. you almost have to cover your ears when the announcer yells at the crowd to settle down and welcome the challenger from the neighboring town. boos and yells now fill the stadium, as arts opponent preens at the attention coming from the crowd, tipping his obscenely huge cowboy hat at you, winking smugly. you roll your eyes, turning your head to the spotlight illuminating the entrance where art would soon emerge. the energy in the arena immediately changed when art entered the ring, and even you couldn't resist standing up and clapping and cheering for him like the rest of the fans in the crowd. you swore you felt his eyes on you when he was waving at the crowd, but you were just imagining it.. right?

the rodeo goes by in a flash, you're not surprised that art comes out on top in the end. he rides his horse in a celebratory circle around the ring, when he gets to your section your stomach drops as he tips his hat at you, a small smirk on his face. you look away, reasoning that he probably does this with every girl he sees, a big celebrity like him is sure to be a playboy.

exiting the arena, you looked for your car in the parking lot, lost in the sea of beat up pickups. not looking where you were going, you suddenly hit a wall of muscle, looking up, immediately annoyed before you notice a familiar smirk. "art.. art donaldson?" you step back, looking around for his roadies and drunk friends that always seem to follow him around. "in the flesh darlin'" he flashes that smirk again and you have to fight the urge to roll your eyes. "no offence but shouldnt you be like at an after party or something? you won today, im sure you'd get free drinks at any bar in town" you don't mean to stereotype him but.. he truly seems like the type to have a different girl hanging off his arm every night. he smiles, "parties ain't really my thing, actually i was hoping id find you out here". you look at him with raised eyebrows, wondering if he's got you mixed up with another girl. "see, well i saw you in the crowd, most people at these things just go crazy for me but, honestly you didn't seem too interested at all" he shrugs. you shake your head, hoping he's not out here to lecture you about his sport, "no, no that's not it.. i just don't exactly have interest in watching men preen themselves, i mean your opponent was being a total duche to me". he frowns immediately, "are you serious? jesus.. im sorry darlin' ill keep my eye out for him, wouldn't want you to get scared and never come see me again.." he trails off. you tap your foot on the ground hoping he'll get to the point soon. art catches your drift, "well anyway, i was wondering if you'd let me prove you wrong, im a little more than a famous cowboy yknow". you look around, almost expecting cameras to pop out and announce you were on some sort of prank show. "are you kidding?" he shakes his head. "listen i.. i don't doubt that you're fun or whatever but i don't date celebrities" you say matter-of-factly. he frowns, finally taking off his hat for the first time that night, letting you see his slightly sweaty blond hair, curled in the heat, "you're kidding. i promise, just lemme take you on one date-" you cut him off, pressing a finger to his lips, "i said i don't date celebrities. im flattered really, but i have my morals. goodnight ponyboy" he bristles at the nickname and you giggle, turning quickly and letting out a breath of air you didn't know you were holding. you barely register his call after you, "just gimme a call princess, ill prove you wrong!". you shake your head, finally making it to your car and shutting the door, placing your head on the steering wheel. that couldn't have actually just happened.. the art donaldson hitting on you.. you knew all the girls in your town would kill for a chance to be in your place, and they would never turn him down. driving along the winding roads to your house, you bite your lip, wondering if you made the right choice. shaking your head slightly you push the idea out of your mind, he's probably out finding another girl to flatter and take home. it was settled, you wouldn't think about him anymore. but as your head hit the pillow that night the last thing you thought of was that stupid smirk of his.

the rest of your week goes on like normal, repeating your routine every day, without thought of your weird encounter with art. it's wednesday, meaning the local farmers market is open. you grab your bag and head out into the world, immediately wishing you grabbed a hat to shield you from the sun. making you way down to the center of town, bustling with buyers and sellers of fresh food. you walked around the market, thinking about what you needed, you stopped at a peach stand to look at your list, not noticing who was next to you. "so we meet again sweetheart.." you recognize the drawl of the familiar cowboy next to you, letting out a deep sigh. "are you following me ponyboy?" you question, looking up at his blue eyes, shadowed by his cowboy hat. art shakes his head, chucking at you, and you hate to admit it but it's a very attractive chuckle. "no, 'course not, you turned me down remember? i know when im not wanted.." the way he says that, you almost get offended. "i- you know i didn't mean it like that, i just don't date celebrities, no matter who they are" you say, looking up at the now very confused peach farmer, looking between the both of you. you pay for your peaches and leave, and to your (partial) annoyance you hear arts cowboy boots against the gravel behind you. "can i ask you somethin'?" you nod, and art takes his place at your side. "why don't you date celebrities, just curious of course" you smile, shaking your head, he really won't give up, will he? "well, i guess i just don't think they're real, too good to be true yknow? most of the once ive seen are just total players, i feel like it's in their nature to be greedy and always want more. no offence obviously.." art nods along with what you're saying, truly looking like he's thinking about it. "geez, you're an expert on the topic aren't you? i would hate to find out you think of me that way, cuz i really aint that type of guy" art looks down at you, walking slowly to match your pace. "well.." you look him up and down, "you don't exactly have the presence of someone who likes to keep to themselves" art laughs, now letting silence seep between you as you make your way back to your home. arts quiet presence is surprisingly comforting for a showboat like him, if you closed your eyes you probably wouldn't even notice he was there. reaching the porch of your house you turn to face him, not sure what to say next. art takes off his hat, placing it on his heart, "let me prove you wrong. please, im begging you sweetheart, ill do anything you want me to do to convince you" your eyes widen, shocked at the sudden advance. "you.. aren't gonna let this go are you?" he shakes his head quickly, "not at all, no." you sigh, "you're very sweet art but.. i don't even know you-" he cuts you off. "then get to know me, i won't disappoint you darlin'" you weigh the options in your mind, the cons and the pros of the situation, with art right in front of you, you can't help but take a chance. "alright, alright. one date okay ponyboy? one." his face lights up immediately, placing his hat back on his head. "thank you, thank you seriously, ill prove you wrong about me" you nod at his promise. "i should get inside but.." he nods, looking almost sad at the thought of you leaving. "alright.. ill pick you up tomorrow at seven, does that work for you" he's eager, more eager than you'd expect, and you're flattered. you agree, heading inside and preparing for the next day.

one date turns into two, then three, the next minute you're seeing each other every night. most of the time art comes to your place, he tells you it's because he doesn't really have a permanent residence at the moment, but you know he does it just to get to know you better, peeking through your books and trinkets, looking for something to boost his knowledge about you. he cooks too, something you didn't expect from him at all, to his credit, he's absolutely proving you wrong, but you'd never admit that to him, he's too cocky as it is. he hardly ever talks about rodeo when he's with you, separation of work and pleasure he tells you, but truthfully he just doesn't want you to see him as that celebrity, he just wants to be art with you. and you let him be normal with you, spending lazy days in bed with him, not worrying about anything. you can't imagine your life without him anymore, he's there when you wake up, when you're preparing breakfast and going about your chores for the day, he's there, when you get in bed for the night he's certainly there too. he'd never tell you, but he thanks his lucky stars when you fall asleep in his arms, he shudders thinking about where he'd be if you turned him down. luckily, he'd never have to think about that anymore, now that he was yours, your ponyboy.

[deepdisireslonging]

Stuck

The Reader and Max are having a quiet night at home when he leaves to check on a strange noise. He’s knocked out. When he comes to, he’s tied up and you are at the mercy of the intruder: Ricky Starks.

Characters: Ricky Starks, Maxwell Jacob Friedman, Wrestler!Reader

Warnings/Promises: CNC, bondage, name calling (slut and the like), dirty talk, oral (male and female receiving), edging, forced split-roast, choking, creampie, overstimulation, poly!relationship

Word Count: 2900

Note: A bit of a spoiler: all is revealed to be consensual, safe and sane. This is filth. I also had the moment when working on this that my writing has definitely gotten more intense/dirtier the longer I’ve written fanfiction. On that note, happy reading!

It was about damn time you two had a night off. Not to waste the moment, Max had gone all out. Take-out, your favorite movie, and plenty of blankets. And when everything was done and packed away, he tucked you tightly into the sheets. You both went to sleep quickly. Being on the road was exhausting. Maybe tomorrow you’d take the time to relearn each other’s bodies. But for tonight? It was enough to feel safe and calm with his arm wrapped around your waist.

Barely two hours after you’d fallen asleep, Max jolted awake.

His breath came out in pants. Eyes wild, he scanned the darkness that rendered everything invisible past the end of the bed.

He half-rolled over, checking on you over his shoulder. And he had to grin. Of course you’d heard nothing. His angel. Why did you need to be on high alert in your own house, with him laying beside you?

The sound repeated from downstairs. Closer this time.

Careful not to disturb you or to make the bed squeak, he snagged the baseball bat next to his nightstand. He took the same care when secreting down the stairs. The living room seemed to be intact. And the kitchen. Maybe the intruder had gone after his wall of titles in your office. But, no, that was undisturbed as well.

He spun as footsteps creaked overhead.

Cursing under his breath, Max rushed up the stairs, straining to reach you before the footsteps did.

Then a fist came swinging out of the darkness and he remembered nothing.

***

Warm hands slid up and down your arms. With a sigh, you smiled and murmured, “I thought we were waiting for breakfast…”

“Too early for breakfast. Maybe dessert?”

Your eyes snapped open. The darkness that you were expecting was pushed back by the illumination from your nightstand lights. One second you were taking in the image of Max tied to a chair at the foot of the bed, his irate face straining against the kitchen towel tied against his mouth; and the next, you were taking in the sneer leering down at you. “Ricky. You – why are you here?”

Ricky tilted his head, inhaling deeply as he appreciated how your silk nighty had ridden up your thighs. He trailed his fingers across your exposed skin while his other hand kept a firm press on your stomach. “Isn’t it obvious? I’m here to take my valet back.”

In the chair, Max strained against the bindings holding back his arms. His eyes flashed, screaming through the gag for you not to be touched.

“Did you really think there wouldn’t be repercussions?” Ricky winked at his opponent. “Stole my title and my girl, and you really have the balls to think that you got away with it.”

You tried to remove his hands from your body, but Ricky quickly pinned your wrists to the bed, bringing your noses close together. “And I haven’t forgotten your betrayal, Cherie. You were not innocent in all of this.” He ran the tip of his nose around your face, chuckling as you shivered. “We had so much fun together. Why’d you leave? You can’t tell me he dicks you down even half as good as I did.”

Several seconds passed before you could manage an answer. He kept inhaling the scent of your fear. And kept blowing cool air over the sweet spots he’d learned long ago. “You can’t – you can’t do this. You’ll be fired. You’ll never wrestle again when this gets out.”

“Sure I will.” Ricky manhandled you to lay longways across the bed, ensuring Max would have a good view of what he was about to do. “AEW can’t take another scandal with another one of its pillars.”

“Kenny… the Bucks-“

“The EVPs?” He laughed. Pressing his body against yours to hold you in place, he ground his clothed hard length into the crook of your thighs. “They’re so wrapped up in their own drama… You can try. You can scream and call me out all you like. But for tonight, I’m going to do whatever I like to you.”

To your horror, he finished lifting your night dress. When he found you were bare beneath the fabric, he groaned. His tongue darted out over his lips. Lightly, he ghosted his fingers over your sex. He slid his torso down the bed so that he was face-level with his target. With his strong grip around your thighs, you couldn’t crawl away. He glanced up. And saw you trying to silently reassure his replacement.

“Yes, look at him, Cherie. Tell him it’s going to be okay. Scream for him. But you’re going to be screaming my name before long.” He kissed over your clit, making you jump. “Tell him it’s going to be okay. Go on. Tell him.”

Your lips trembled. “It’s – it’s going to be okay. It’s going to be okay, baby. I-”

You shrieked as Ricky roughly curled two fingers into your heat. His tongue working over your slit and your clit soothed the way for his attack until your body started to respond on its own. Shame washed over you that he knew you so well. That you’d let him learn you so deeply. But the flush didn’t make the pleasure fade away. If anything, it heightened it. Your walls clamped down around his fingers. Your sex flooded his tongue, giving him plenty to lap up. Running your fingers through your hair wouldn’t make him stop. Tightening your thighs around his head didn’t slow him down. When you reached for his curls, he nuzzled into your touch.

“Just like riding a bike, isn’t it, darnlin’?” He leaned his head against your thigh, thumbing your clit to keep you on edge. “You’re already close, aren’t you? Have you missed me that badly? All you had to do was call. And I would have followed you anywhere to take care of you.”

Every nerve in your body was alight. You tried to screw your eyes shut, but Ricky reached up and roughly kneaded your breast.

“No, keep those eyes open. Look at your choice. He’s ready for you. Got hard watching us. Got hard watching you be fucked like you deserve to be.”

Max was straining every muscle. Trying to reach for you while he could barely move his hands. But his gaze was glassy. And his mouth was lax around the gag. Like he was imagining tasting you better than Ricky could.

“Ready to cum for him? Ready to cum for me, Cherie?”

With a whimper, you shook your head. You didn’t want to. Not like this. But Ricky’s fingers were relentless. Your rebellion melted away under his tongue. Soon, too soon, your hips rolled toward his face. Little soft sounds fell from your lips as the last stand of maintaining your hold on yourself.

But he curled a third finger into you, making you shout.

“That’s it,” he panted against the inside of your thigh. “Do you want to cum? Tell me. Beg me for it. You used to be so good at it.”

He stopped everything but pressing his thumb against your clit. It was blinding, the pleasure even something that simple brought; but it wouldn’t be enough. Already, you could feel your release slipping away.

“Please,” you whispered.

“What was that?” He asked, smirking as Max watched your trembling lips, enraptured.

“Ricky, please. Make me cum. Need it. Need you.”

He rewarded you with another few curls of his fingers, but stilled. “Keep going. You’re doing so good for me. Taking my fingers so well. Go on.”

Swallowing hard, you keened. “Please, baby. Make me cum. Like only you can. Please! I’m so close.” With each plea and tightening of your grip in his hair, he continued to heighten your pleasure. You did your best to keep your eyes open and mostly focused on the ceiling. But from the corner of your gaze, you could feel Max’s eyes watching every arch and twitch of your body. The bulge of his sleep shorts told you everything you needed. You fixed your gaze on his, ready to make a show for his pleasure, instead of Ricky’s.

Just when you were about to tip over the edge, Ricky leaned back, pinning your hips to the bed.

“No!”

Ricky laughed high and free. “Did you really think I’d let you cum? No, we can’t have that right now. I know how sleepy you get after you cum.” He rubbed his hands up and down your thighs. “We’ve still got several acts to this show. Come on. Let’s get ready for the next one.”

Electrified as you were, your limbs still moved sluggishly as Ricky sat you on his lap at the end of the bed. Max growled behind his gag as Ricky slipped the gown over your head, bearing all of you to the both of them. Your captor laid your thighs over his, spreading you open. He palmed over your stomach and up to your breasts. You knew he was grinning at Max, because Max was glaring right back.

“How about you help him out, sweetheart?” Ricky guided your hands to Max’s thighs. Whispering instructions in your ears, he ordered you to release Max’s cock from the inside of his shorts. When it sprung free, you tried not to touch it, intent on not worsening his torture. But both of them knew you wouldn’t be able to resist for long. Your fingers ached to hold him. Distracted, you didn’t register that Ricky was shifting you until his cock was sliding through your slick. “Ready for me? Then we can really have some fun.” He covered your mouth as he slid home. Your eyes crossed. And, again, your body betrayed you. Your pussy remembered him, the fill of him, and what was to come.

Panting, Ricky allowed himself a few selfish thrusts before enacting the next step of his plan. He lightly laid a hand between your shoulder blades. He pushed you until Max’s cock was in front of your face. Ricky took hold of your wrists, holding them back so you couldn’t push away from Max’s thighs.

“Suck him off. If you do a good job… maybe I’ll let him have sloppy seconds.”

From that angle, you couldn’t look up to see Max’s face. But his hips jerked towards you. Even if his mind was rebelling against this, his desire for you was stronger. You answered the plea. Laving around his cockhead, you tried to forget the man behind you. You focused on the cock in your mouth, and on making your man feel good. But the taste of his precum and the way his tummy clenched in front of your eyes made your own walls clench. Which made Ricky grip your hips.

“Always loved that about you,” he panted. “How sucking cock really brings out the slut in you.” He began to grind against you, burying his cock deeper into your sweet spots. As his pace picked up, it forced you further onto Max.

When you gagged, Max moaned loudly. He leaned back, pushing his hips closer to your mouth. It was like he forgot why you were sucking him down. All he needed was you to suck harder. To hollow your mouth more.

You felt endlessly full. Stuck between them, all you could do was please both of them. Maybe if you made Ricky cum, he’d let you go. And if you guided Max to completion, maybe then he could focus enough to get out Ricky’s ties. Nerves singing, muscles twitching, you wouldn’t be able to help in the fight that was sure to follow. But you could do this. You smiled around Max’s length as it pistoned in and out of your mouth. Maybe Ricky was right: a cock in your mouth, and you were thinking the clearest; maybe you were a slut. But that also made you dangerous-

Ricky’s hand on the back of your head forced you to your task. The grip shifted to the back of your neck, gripping slightly. You both knew: no matter how this night ended, you’d always belong to him. You’d always need him. And he’d always know you.

With a low gasp, Ricky pulled you away from Max so he could hold you close and thrust faster. You clawed at the hand that wrapped around your throat. Breathless and blurry-eyed, there was nothing you could do as Ricky’s pace stuttered and he bit down on the back of your shoulder. He filled you, shouting your name against your skin. You waited for him to toss you aside.  To gloat in his victory and to leave you two alone. But his hands continued to caress your body. Over your hips, your stomach, your breasts, and skimming his fingertips across the hollow of your throat. He held you down as he toyed with your clit. He smiled against your skin, whispering dark promises while Max watched your body react.

Max watched as you tipped over the edge, screaming Ricky’s name.

“There,” your former client said. He kissed the nape of your neck. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?” Nuzzling his nose over where he kissed you, he glared at Max again. “But we can’t leave your new lover out in the cold, can we? Look at him. About to jizz the air like a teenager. Because of you, baby.” He titled your head to one side so he could take control of your mouth. He filled you with his kiss. Your mouth, your mind. He distracted you with it.

Until you were sitting on Max’s lap with his cock buried inside your over-sexed pussy and Ricky’s hand was tight around your throat. The grip made your tortured sex clench. Behind you, Max did his best to hold off his release. The front of his gag pressed into the back of your head as an interrupted reassuring kiss. He hummed. You knew he would be overwhelmed soon.

Especially if Ricky kept toying with you like he was. Yes, the drowsiness of orgasm was pulling at your eyelids. But the sparks of pleasure continued to course through you as Ricky continued to knead your breasts. Occasionally he flicked your clit, smirking as you flinched and pass your pleasure to Max. “Come on, baby. You can give me another one. Right?” He smoothed a thumb over your bottom lip. And frowned. He pressed it harder against the shuddering flesh until your mouth opened and he could press down on your tongue. “Such a needy slut. Always have been. Isn’t she gorgeous, Maxwell?” He titled his head as he watched you try and stay awake. Even as Max thrust desperately into you. “Have you learned this about her yet?”

Your eyes snapped open. But, before you could protest, Ricky took his thumb out of your mouth and began to circle it harshly over your clit. With his other hand roughly groping your breast, you were blinded. You reached back, curling one hand into Max’s hair. The other you placed on Ricky’s chest; whether begging him to stay back or to come closer you couldn’t tell anymore. Hoarsely, you screamed out your release. The pulsing of your walls pulled Max down with you. He filled you too, pumping to chase the last sparks of pleasure as you caught your breath.

Only then did Ricky lift you up and toss you onto the bed.

Sleep was rising up quickly. Was it over?

The sound of fumbling limbs wasn’t much of an answer. Until Max slid into the bed to lay in front of you, curling you to his chest. Ricky slid in behind you, kissing down your shoulder and across the curve of your spine. You relished in the warmth radiating off both of them.

“You did so good, Cherie.”

“Mhmm,” Max hummed in agreement. He reached up and massaged his jaw. “You couldn’t find a smaller gag?”

“It worked, didn’t it?”

While they bickered, you smiled into the sheets. You stretched. Pleasant soreness flared up in several places, but nothing a hot bath in the morning couldn’t finish. “So,” you sighed, “I take it we’re moving ahead with that storyline?” When you opened your eyes, Max’s face was unreadable. “Right? Or-“

He kissed your forehead. “Yeah. Why not?”

Behind you, Ricky rested his chin on your shoulder. You rolled onto your back so everyone could be included in the conversation. “Am I still turning heel in all this, or is she?”

Max pouted. “You are. I want to be the babyface for a second.”

You reached up to curl your fingers into the curls at the nape of his neck. “But you’re such a good bad guy to hate. Maybe I want to be heel with you.”

“But then I don’t get to tie you up.” Ricky pushed your hair out of your face. “It will be her turn, you know. C’mon. We could play the angle that she’s supposed to be with you in the ring when I’m scheduled to come down to confront you, but the camera switches to the back. And I’ve got her dangling by her wrists from a trellis while I threaten you both-”

“Why are you so obsessed with ropes?”

Before they could start arguing again, you reached up and pulled them one by one to your lips. Silenced and placated by your kisses, they agreed to go over the plans in the morning. Both of them took turns grumbling a bit more, but you were already dreaming, planning your future with them in the ring and out.

***

Masterlist

Fics with MJF:

Finish Me (S, Ficlet)

   Power Struggle (Whump)

   STFU (S, Summer Song-Fic Playlist)

Fics with Ricky Starks:

Broken Negotiations (A, Whump)

Surrender (A, Whump)

Sundress Season (Smut)

Necklace (Smut)

[sleepy-writes-stuff]

(continuation to writing prompt #7)

(#) = Notes at the end of post

← previous

✦

Jason catches him before he hits the ground, quickly slings him over his shoulders, and redraws his pistol in a matter of seconds before he's bolting down the street. His eyes scan the rooftops for any snipers but can't find evidence of anything aside from a brief flash of white. He's almost to his closest safehouse and in the clear when he's bodily tackled to the ground, Danny tossed from his shoulders and to the pavement with him. He manages to flip himself and his assailant over enough to give the man in white a sharp right hook to the temple and knocks him out cold.

More white suits are running down the street towards him, so he shoulders Danny's considerably light weight again and books it away from his original destination. No point in having a safehouse if it's discovered. Defeats the whole point of having one in the first place. As he's booking it down the street and taking as many random turns as possible, he hears several sets of footsteps hot on his trail, some of them shouting orders back and forth to each other. He barely dodges another dart headed towards his leg before he's had enough. He didn't like the odds of fighting multiple opponents while also having to protect his passenger, so he caves and connects the comm-line to any of the bats out and about tonight and immediately gets a response from Oracle and the Big Bat himself.

"Hood, what's the situation? You're moving awfully fast. You don't normally call in." He's panting so hard with how fast he's running, it's a miracle he gets anything out.

"Hey, O. Being pursued by an organized group. Have an injured passenger they desperately want and I might be a plus to the package. Passenger shows signs of being experimented on."

"Do you recognize your assailants? Any identifying features?" Ah, there's Bats.

"Everyone's wearing a white suit and they have snipers with drugged darts. Passenger is out cold after getting hit with one. Caught him in the middle of him running and he seemed convinced that I was just as in danger as he was."

Batman swears on the other end and proceeds to call in Red Robin and Nightwing while Oracle takes over the conversation again.

"Batman's not far out. Can you give your tail the slip to meet up with them?"

Still hearing the collection of footsteps behind him, he answers back, "Negative. The behavior of Passenger leads me to believe they have some sort of tracker. I've taken as many twists and turns I could think of, still haven't lost them." He grits his teeth at what he says next, shoving his pride down as deep as he could.

"I need backup."

A new voice enters the comm in the form of Nightwing. "And you'll get it. Bats and I are headed in your direction. ETA is about seven minutes. Think you can string them long enough for us to get the drop on them?"

Hood huffs an approximation of a chuckle in his ragged state. "I'll try my best. I've been running for while now and I'm about out of steam. Luckily, Passenger's pretty light for his size."

He grunts as he nearly trips over a plank of busted plywood in the next alley he exits, but regains his footing just as fast. He's getting really sick of these white suits. He would've grappled up to the nearest roof if he didn't already know a few of them were already in pursuit from up there too. He's been leading this goose chase so long he's even getting close to the Bowery. Maybe he can lose them there. Gaining a bit of a second wind, he puts a little boost in his speed, silently apologizing to Danny over the bumpy ride. He figures he'd prefer a few extra bruises from a less than gentle getaway than being captured by whoever these creeps in white were though.

He manages to get a couple of streets into the Bowery before his pursuers seem to have had enough with the chase. There's an inaudible order shouted from one white suit to another before Hood hears a sound akin to a laser before he feels a shot of burning pain in his back. He tumbles forward again, this time tucking Danny into his chest as best he could so he didn't go flying like last time. He rolls a few times before landing with a still unconscious Danny flat on the ground and him hovering protectively over him. Whatever they used to knock him out must be strong if not even a second throw to the ground wakes him up.

Hood gasps at the burning pain as he feels around the back of his jacket with one hand. He immediately finds a patch of scorched leather, the material extremely hot to the touch. He curses as he shrugs it off and tosses it to the side. He can always get a new one, he reasons. Right now, he needs to get back up and start running again, but not before leaving a little present. Once he's without his helmet, he books it once again down the street and keeps an ear out for the white suits, waiting for them to get close enough before he presses a hidden button and blows up the street. Hopefully a few of them got caught by the blast.

"Hood, what was that sound!? Everything alright?" Red Robin suddenly yelled over the comms.

"All good. Just left the white suits a little gift. Turns out they have blasters and they hurt like a bitch." He griped. "What's your ETA now?"

"Not much longer. All of us can see the smoke from the explosion. How's your passenger during all this?"

"He's been knocked around a bit and still unconscious. He needs a serious medical eval once all of this is over. He had a few stitches pop before this stupid chase even started." He said as he ducked around the corner to avoid another laser blast.

"I'm running on empty at this point. You guys better get your asses over here before I blow up more than just my helmet-" He feels a sudden sharp jab in his shoulder and turns to find a white dart with the letters G.I.W. printed on it.

"Shit."

"What's wrong?" Batman immediately asked.

"The darts. I've been hit." Almost immediately, he feels sluggish and dizzy.

He stumbles to a stop, propping himself up against the brick wall of the nearest building. Overwhelming nausea took over as he nearly dropped to his knees.

"Shit shit shit shit," His words came out slurred. His grip on Danny loosened, the guy sliding down to lay limply on the ground. "Guys... if you're gonna show up... now would be a really good time."

He eventually downgraded to sitting on the ground, back against the wall with Danny still unconscious at his side. His vision was so blurry at this point it was a wonder he could see anything. Regardless of his drugged state, he tried his best to keep a sharp eye on all entrances on the street. Eventually tho, his eyes landed on the dart that caused his current predicament, the letters on it steadily swimming into focus.

"G... I.W."

"What? Hood, are you alright?" Red Robin responded, heavy concern in his voice.

"Look for... federal agencies with the acronym G.I.W." He said at barely a mumble.

"Hood? Little Wing, hey! We need you to stay awake, buddy."

"Too... too tired." He could barely keep himself upright, much less keep his eyes open. Staying awake was a little much to ask.

"No no no no. Come on, Little Wing. We're almost to you. Hang on a few more minutes."

Jason didn't have the energy to respond.

"Red Hood, answer me!" Batman's gruff voice rang in his head with how loud it sounded right now. "Jason!"

Is it just him or does Bruce sound panicked? Something about that didn't seem right. Why would Batman be panicked?

Panicked... Panic... Panic?

His eyes shot back open as he sluggishly caught a few white suits in his line of sight walking steadily closer. The drug was still working heavily through his system, but he had just enough clarity to do something he never thought he'd be forced to do.

"Sorry, guys. I'm just gonna... have to trust you to find me... Okay?" His voice cracked on the last word as he slowly searched the collar of his kevlar shirt.

Finding what he was looking for, he pressed the panic button he'd installed for crazy reasons like this. Crazy reasons like being kidnapped. An internal tracker he installed in himself(1) was brought to life as soon as he pressed the hidden switch. His location should be being broadcasted to every Bat in the city and a few of his Outlaw friends. With it being internal, it can't be taken, damaged, or interrupted. He specifically designed it himself to withstand anything he could think of. Once it turned on and he at least had that assurance, he finally succumbed to the drug and felt himself go limp despite his family frantically calling his name. The static of a radio communicator buzzed somewhere above his head as a white suit approached.

"Agent O, come in. Prepare another cell at HQ. Whatever Phantom is, this thing seems to give off similar energy. We can probably learn something from it since Phantom refuses to talk." He said as he toed roughly at Jason's boot.

Whatever was said in response was lost on him as his hearing cut out and his vision faded to black.

✦

Wow. That was a doozy to write.

I've seen a lot of fics where Danny is rescued by the Bats from the GIW almost right away and everything works out from there, but I wanted to see one where he wasn't. Might as well throw Jason in there too. Why? Because angst. It's one of the things I'm good at apparently.

Notes:

(1) What if his death at the hands of the Joker and Batman's late arrival gave Jason a certain paranoia/fear of not being found if he was ever taken/hidden again? About not being found in time/never found again? I think he'd take precautions. So much angst with this idea too.

_

People who wanted tagged?

@undead-essence @someonebored0100 @dxrksong @somera-rubina @wolfeyedwitch @little-pondhead @entity-of-the-rift

I think that's everyone? I'm not used to tagging people yet, so forgive me if I missed your username!

[debbiechanclub]

I'll Be Honest (Looking at You Got Me Thinking Nonsense), Part 3 (of 3)

A “Take My Hand, Wreck My Plans” fic

Pairings: Kyle Fletcher x OFC (...and a little bit of x Jay White) Word Count: 3,930 Warnings: Just some language and angst

Nellie's weekend in London with Kyle ends on a bittersweet note, just as Jay pops up to confuse her again.

TMHWMP Timeline | Masterlist

Read it on AO3

tag squad: @aussiearrow @cowboyslariat @knifepervert @caranoirs @rusevday @missbrownstone @meteora-fc @bec0m @thatgirlforever5 @rocca09 @aussiespam

Sunday, November 21, 2021 London, England

The sheets felt smooth and cozy against Nellie’s bare legs, and she snuggled deeper underneath the blankets, not ready to leave their comfort just yet. She slid her foot toward Kyle, further, further; but she didn’t find him. She opened her eyes. No wonder—she was alone in his bed.

But no sooner had she realized it than the bedroom door pushed open. Kyle walked in, shirtless in gray sweatpants, a coffee mug in each hand. He smiled when he saw her awake.

“Good morning.”

“Mmmorning,” Nellie returned as she stretched. “Is one of those for me?”

“These?” he gestured with the mugs. “Oh, no. Sorry—I double-fist coffee in the morning.”

She sent him a flat look. His grin widened.

“Of course one of them is for you.”

She sat up against the pillows and thanked him as he handed her a mug. From the color of the coffee, it looked like he’d made it to her taste. She took a sip. It was smooth and rich with just the right amount of cream.

“I hope it’s alright,” he said as he rejoined her under the covers. I just put a bit of cream in it.”

“It’s perfect,” she told him. “Jeez, first you know my drink order and now how I take my coffee. I’m impressed.”

“Well, I pay attention. As you learned last night.”

He flashed a cheeky smirk, and heat crept up Nellie’s collar. Kyle certainly had paid attention last night, both to what she’d told him at the club beforehand and her cues in the moment—and she’d given them. Thank God Will and Torrance hadn’t been right next door; they absolutely would have heard.

But thinking of them reminded her. “We have to work tonight. I almost forgot that’s why I’m here.”

“Yeah, you have to retain that RevPro title so we can be double champions together,” Kyle grinned.

“You and Mark have to retain the RevPro tag titles for that to happen, too,” she pointed out. But Kyle scoffed.

“Please, I’m not worried about Roy and Ricky Knight Jr.”

Nellie’s eyebrows arched. “Wish I could say the same about Alex Windsor,” she said into her coffee. It surprised Kyle.

“You’re worried about facing Alex?”

She thought about it as she sipped. “I’m not worried,” she clarified. “But she’s definitely the toughest opponent I’ve defended this title against. And I’m not ready to lose it yet.”

“So don’t.”

Nellie shot him a flat look.

“I’m serious!” he returned.  “Yeah, Alex is good. But so are you. Better, I think. But I am a bit biased.”

Nellie smiled at that. “Are you?”

He held up his thumb and forefinger. “Little bit,” he said, and more than just the coffee warmed Nellie’s stomach then. “But if you really want to be prepared, you should come to the gym with me later. Getting a lift in will increase your focus. Plus, I can make sure your form’s correct. You know, on squats and stuff.”

“Oh, can you?” she smirked.

“Mhm.” He set his coffee down on his nightstand. “And if you want to get some cardio in, we could do that, too. Right now, if you want…”

He leaned in and pressed his lips to her neck, and Nellie grinned as she put her coffee down, never so eager to get in some morning cardio.

* * * *

“Okay, spill,” Torrance urged. “I want details.”

Nellie hit pause on her playlist and the music stopped in her headphones. “I was wondering how long it would take you.”

“I’ve literally been waiting to ask since Will and I got back this morning,” Torrance eagerly returned. “And since I’ve been forced to come to the gym on what’s technically my vacation, the least you can do is tell me everything.”

“No one forced you to come,” Nellie laughed as she grabbed a foam roller and a mat. “You could have stayed at the house.”

“Stop stalling. Was it good?”

They found an open area to sit down and stretch on the mats, and Torrance stared impatiently at Nellie as she started rolling out her right hamstring. Truth be told, she’d been waiting for an opportunity to dish to Torrance about her evening with Kyle, too.

“Well… I’m a little worried Mark might have heard something, after all, I’ll put it that way.”

“No.” Torrance laughed through her nose and clamped her hand over her mouth. “So it was a religious experience, then?”

“It definitely didn’t disappoint,” Nellie grinned. “He was very eager to please.”

Torrance looked like she couldn’t have been more pleased to hear it. “I can tell. You’re glowing.”

“Oh, come on,” Nellie breathed.

“I’m serious! And Kyle hasn’t stopped smiling all day.” She smiled then, too. “I’m happy for you two.”

Nellie pressed down harder on the foam roller. But something about her concentrated expression must have given away that it was because of more than just a tight muscle.

“Oh no,” Torrance recognized. “What is it?”

“Nothing,” she quietly returned. “I can just feel myself starting to overthink it already.”

Torrance’s eyebrows arched. “Well, you know I know all about that,” she commiserated. “You want to talk about it?”

Nellie considered it for a second. “No, actually. It can wait until after I retain my title,” she decided.

Torrance nodded. “Totally get that. Speaking of—did you want me to come out with you for the match? I kinda think people are lowkey expecting it because they know I’m here.”

“Did you bring anything to wear?”

Torrance paused, thinking. “Good question. I’ll figure out something,” she said, and she pushed herself up from the floor and grabbed her water bottle. “Do you need water? I’m gonna go fill up.”

“No, I’m good.”

She nodded and walked off, and Nellie resumed her playlist. K-Pop filled her ears, and she switched to rolling out her left hamstring when the music dropped for a second in her headphones. She glanced down at her phone screen—it was an Instagram notification—and when she saw what it said, she slowed to a stop.

jaywhitenz liked your story

She pursed her lips and cleared the notification with a swipe of her finger. Jay could like her gym selfies all he wanted, and he had. It wouldn’t change anything.

But then the music dropped again. That time, because of a text.

Good luck in your match tonight. Is that your sixth defense already?

Nellie stopped rolling. She stared at the message until the screen went black. How had he known it was her sixth defense? Had he actually been paying attention, or had he just looked it up, probably right before typing up that message?

Either way, it didn’t matter. Thanks, and yeah. She sent off the reply and resumed her foam rolling. She could have just left him on read, but she didn’t see the point. They were past that; she’d moved on. She was involved with someone else now. Potentially, anyway.

Are Kyle and I ‘involved’? she wondered. But then her phone pinged again. Jay’s response came quicker than she’d expected.

That’s crazy. But the RevPro title looks good on you. I know you’re happy to be working there again.

Nellie slowed to a stop again. But before she could even begin to unpack that text, another one came in.

And congrats on winning the Stardom tag league btw. I watched the final after I heard. Is the tag title match booked yet?

Nellie’s heart picked up a beat. He’d watched the tag league final? Why? Why did he want her to know he had? They hadn’t said two words to each other since her birthday; she hadn’t even told him happy birthday last month. Where was this coming from, and why now? It was barely after 9 a.m. in Florida.

She looked up and around for Torrance; she could only imagine what her reaction to all this would be. But she was nowhere in sight. And so, Nellie wrote back.

Thanks. The match isn’t booked yet and it probably won’t be until after the new year. Syuri has been too busy defending the SWA title to have a Goddess title defense, too. But honestly, I’m fine with that. Torr and I are both planning to go home for Christmas this year, and I’d rather be able to enjoy myself than rush that time around an important title match, especially since I haven’t seen my family in almost two years.

She hit send, and it wasn’t until after the message was already gone and delivered that Nellie realized she hadn’t needed to tell him all that. She could have just sent him the first three sentences and left it at that. And now she was suddenly thinking about last Christmas and how Jay had done everything he could to make it special for her because she was homesick and unable to see her family because of the pandemic. How that was the first time they’d told each other “I love you”—and Jay had said it first.

Her phone buzzed in her hand. She looked down at the screen.

Well, you know I know exactly how that feels.

“Hey.”

Nellie flinched and looked up. Kyle.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you,” he grinned, crooked and boyish. “You about ready to head out?”

She paused her music again and pushed her phone into the slip pocket on her workout leggings. “Yeah.” She pulled her headphones off her ears and let them hang around her neck. “Where’s Torrance?”

“With Mark and Will.” He offered her his hand, and she took it and let him pull her up from the floor. “You alright?”

Nellie hesitated. Why would he ask her that? Did it seem like something was wrong? “Yeah, why?”

Kyle shrugged. “You just had this super tense look on your face when I was walking over.”

Nellie reflexively tensed when he said that. She made a conscious effort to relax. “Oh, well I was tense. I both hate and love foam rolling because it hurts when you’re doing it but feels good after.”

Kyle smirked. She rolled her eyes. “Don’t make it weird.”

“Me don’t make it weird? You don’t make it weird,” he retorted. “I didn’t say anything.”

“You didn’t have to; it was written all over your face,” she grinned. It only made Kyle’s smile wider.

“Well, if you need extra help working out those tense muscles, I have some ideas.”

“I’m sure you do.”

“What?” he innocently asked. “I was gonna suggest a massage.”

“Oh, is that what we’re calling it?” she asked with a glance over her shoulder.

“We can call it whatever you want, babe,” Kyle returned with a wink and click of his tongue, and Nellie tried to focus on the way it made her feel and not what it made her wonder.

* * * *

Nellie had responded to Jay’s text as they’d all walked back to Will’s car. I know, she’d said, short and to the point, and she’d fully expected the conversation to die there.

But Jay had sent one more message.

But hey, maybe you’ll be a double champion the next time we see each other.

That time, Nellie did leave him on read. But hours later, she was still thinking about that stupid text—and everything it said in between the lines.

“Nellie.”

“Hm, what?” she looked up from absentmindedly lacing up her boot.

“Does this look alright?” Torrance held out her arms to showcase the outfit she’d put together: a yellow, pink, and blue plaid miniskirt with a chunky silver chain clipped at the waist; their team t-shirt that she’d cut and cropped; and sparkly Doc Martens. It screamed Torrance Taylor.

“Yeah,” Nellie nodded, and she went back to lacing up her boot. The air in the locker room was thick.

“I know you’re nervous, and I don’t blame you,” Torrance said. “But Alex hasn’t spent the last three years wrestling and training with the best joshis in the world. She’s not ready for you.”

A corner of Nellie’s mouth quirked up. “That tagline is already taken.”

Torrance dismissively rolled her eyes. “Please, I’m trying to give you a pep talk here! So go out there and use what Tam and Zack have taught you and kick Alex’s ass, and then in January we’ll kick Giulia and Syuri’s asses for the Goddess titles, and you’ll be a double champion.”

Nellie laughed to herself at the unintentional implication that Zack was one of the best joshis in the world, but for the sake of Torrance’s pep talk she didn’t mention it. Instead, she said, “You’re the third person who’s brought up the double champion thing to me today.”

“Am I?” Torrance amusedly asked. Nellie nodded, wrapping her left wrist in tape.

“Mhm. You, Kyle… and Jay.”

Torrance stopped what she was doing to stare at her open-mouthed. “I’m sorry, did you say Jay?”

She nodded again, biting off the tape. “He texted me out of nowhere at the gym.”

Torrance’s jaw unhinged further. “And you’re just telling me now?”

Rather than respond, Nellie unlocked her phone, pulled up the texts, and handed it over; it would be easier to just let Torrance see the messages herself. By the time she was done reading, her eyes were wide and round.

“Oh, he absolutely sent that last one on purpose,” she assessed.

“Right?” Nellie agreed, and Torrance handed her phone back. “And he made it sound like he’s coming back soon, didn’t he? Why the hell would he text me that?”

She looked back at Torrance, genuinely seeking a reason; but Torrance’s expression had changed. She didn’t look shocked anymore. Instead, she looked oddly guilty.

“What,” Nellie said. A statement, not a question.

“I think he might know about you and Kyle.”

Nellie blinked, confused. That was the last thing she’d expected her to say. “What? How would he possibly—”

“The video I posted last night.”

Nellie paused in realization. The dinner. Torrance had posted a video of it to her Instagram story. Now that she thought about it, Will had, too. And Jay followed them both.

“Hold on, I can literally see if he’s seen it,” Torrance remembered, and she grabbed her phone. She clicked through to the video; and while it took a few seconds to find Jay’s handle among all the views, it was there, clear as day.

“Okay yeah, he’s seen it,” she confirmed.

“Let me see it,” Nellie said, and Torrance showed her the screen. The video was mostly of Will, but because of where they’d all been seated, there was a glimpse of Nellie and Kyle at the other end of the table; and right before the video ended, Nellie reached up and used her thumb to wipe something from the corner of Kyle’s mouth as he smiled softly at her. Nellie’s stomach fluttered when she saw herself do it. She thought about Jay seeing her do it. She wouldn’t be at all surprised if it had made him wonder.

“Okay, so he’s seen it,” she dismissed as she handed Torrance back her phone. “But do you really think that’s why he decided to text me out of nowhere?”

“Maybe!” Torrance proclaimed. “I’m willing to bet he was fishing for information. He probably threw out that last text hoping you’d respond with something like, Oh, are you coming back to Japan soon? and it would lead to a conversation so he could sus out or even point-blank ask if you’re seeing anyone. Because he saw that video of you and Kyle, and now he wants to know.”

Nellie bit her lip. Nothing Torrance said was implausible. It made a lot of sense, actually. But she scoffed. “Well, if he really wants to know, he could just ask Riley.”

“What?” Torrance returned, clearly confused. Nellie sighed.

“That night we went out and ran into him?”

“Yeah?”

“I told him about Kyle.”

Torrance frowned, putting it all together in her head. “Okay,” she started. “But do Riley and Jay even talk?”

“I don’t know,” Nellie sighed. “I don’t care. If Jay asks, I’ll tell him. We’ve been officially over for three months, and unofficially for even longer than that, so it really shouldn’t come as a surprise to him that I’ve moved on.”

She finished wrapping her right wrist, bit off the tape, and tossed the roll back into her bag. She was hot now, both physically and mentally—and she was caught off-guard by her own reaction. She’d worked through all her emotions about everything that had happened between her and Jay. Hadn’t she?

The door to the locker room abruptly opened, and Nellie and Torrance both glanced over as Alex Windsor walked in. She paused and gave an awkward smile; no doubt she could sense the tension in the air.

“Hey,” Nellie offered. The last thing she needed was for her opponent to think the issue was with her.

“Hello,” she genially returned. “Welcome back.”

Nellie smiled the best she could. “Thanks,” she said, and she pushed Jay to the back of her mind and refocused on why she was there: to defend her RevPro Undisputed British Women’s Championship. Everything else was secondary.

* * * *

Nellie felt like she hadn’t even had a chance to kick out.

She and Alex had been going at it for just under twenty minutes, but it might as well have been double that time, back and forth, each of them just as tired, frustrated, and determined as the other.

But it was Nellie who slipped up and got caught in the end.

One second she was on her feet and the next they were over her head. When she hit the mat, she saw stars. Her leg was already hooked, and her arm already trapped by virtue of the move itself, and the referee was right there and then it was one-two-three.

She felt like she hadn’t even had a chance to kick out.

“That loss is nothing to be ashamed of, Nell,” Torrance said to her; and even though Nellie knew it was true, she didn’t feel it in that moment. She sat slumped and defeated against a turnbuckle, nursing her neck as Alex’s arm was raised in victory, the title already in her hand. There were tears in her eyes. There were tears in Nellie’s, too.

Alex walked over and held out her hand. Nellie regarded it, regarded her. But ultimately, she accepted the gesture, and Alex pulled her up and into a brief embrace, a show of respect. And then Nellie ducted out of the ring and returned backstage, her hands empty, Torrance following behind.

And then she saw Kyle, waiting for her. There were still two matches until Aussie Open’s, but there he was. He frowned at her in sympathy, and her lip quivered as she folded into him.

“I’m sorry, babe,” he gently said. Nellie breathed in his scent, focusing on the feel of his arms around her, the way he leaned his chin on top of her head because she fit just right. She wanted to live in that feeling for as long as she could.

“You have absolutely nothing to be ashamed of,” Kyle said, repeating Torrance’s words almost verbatim. He moved his hands to her arms, and Nellie pulled back to look up at him. “You were—you are—a fighting champion. No one can deny that. Right?”

Nellie gave the smallest of nods. “Yeah.”

He placed a kiss on her forehead, and a tear slipped down Nellie’s cheek as she closed her eyes. But it wasn’t just the loss of the championship she was upset about now.

“Onto the next one,” Kyle encouraged. “You’ll have another championship in no time.”

“Yeah, we will,” Torrance grinned. Nellie did her best to return it.

“I’m gonna go get cleaned up,” she breathed. Kyle gave her another squeeze, and then she headed back to the women’s locker room. Straight to her suitcase. She grabbed her phone, and then it was almost as if she was outside her body, watching herself open her text chain with Jay. The most recent message, But hey, maybe you’ll be a double champion the next time we see each other, left on read. She typed back.

Well, that’s not happening now. I lost.

She sent it off and tossed the phone back into her bag. She wanted to shower, wash the grime, sweat, and defeat from her skin. She untied and pulled at her boot laces, undoing them just enough to pull the boots from her feet, and then her socks. She unwrapped her wrists and discarded the tape, grabbed her towel and toiletry bag; but as she stood from her seat, her phone pinged. She reached down and picked it up. Jay.

I’m sorry, Nell. But think of it this way: now you can put all your focus on Stardom and winning the tag titles.

Nellie had to give it to him—he had a point. But she left him on read again and headed to the shower, resisting the growing urge in her gut to ask if he was finally coming back to Japan.

* * * *

Nellie wasn’t the only one to leave the pay-per-view with less hardware. As unworried as Kyle had been about Roy and Ricky Knight Jr., Aussie Open had dropped the RevPro tag titles to them, too, and Will was left the only champion still standing. Needless to say, not much of anyone was up for going out after the show, and so they retreated back to Will’s house, somber and tired. Nellie and Torrance had a flight to catch back to Tokyo tomorrow morning, anyway, and Torrance undoubtedly wanted to soak up every hour and minute she had left with her boyfriend. Nellie was similarly aware of her time with Kyle as she lied snuggled against him on his bed—and how it was running out.

“Well, tonight sucked,” Kyle abruptly said into the silence.

“I don’t want to think about it,” Nellie returned. “I just want to enjoy what time we have left.”

Kyle laughed lightly through his nose at that. “You make it sound like we’re never gonna see each other again.”

“Well… now that I’ve lost the title, I don’t know when I’ll be back again.”

She turned her eyes up at him, looking for a reaction, an emotion, something that could clue her in to how Kyle felt about that, if he felt any type of way about it at all. But she only saw quiet contemplation.

“I wish we were working World Tag League,” he said after a while. “Hopefully we’ll get to Japan soon.”

Nellie looked back down, her head still resting on his chest. “Hopefully,” she agreed. And then, “I was afraid this would happen.”

“What?” Kyle asked.

“That I would catch feelings for you.”

There was a pregnant pause. Nellie inwardly winced, wondering if she shouldn’t have said it, if it wasn’t reciprocated, if she’d misinterpreted the entire weekend.

But then Kyle said, “You’re not the only one.”

Hearing that lifted Nellie up and weighed her down all at once. It was simultaneously a comfort to her heart and a dagger to her gut.

“But let’s just see how it goes,” Kyle thoughtfully added. “That’s all we really can do.”

Nellie nodded. “Yeah,” she quietly returned, for lack of anything better to say. Because as much as it sucked—hurt, even—Kyle was right. That really was all they could do.

[eleniel-starlight]

Phantom Soul

Author's Note: Hey guys, it's certainly been a while, and I know this isn't an update to the other fic I have up here. Trust me, it's coming. This one, however, has been in the works and undergoing editing for quite some time, and something just snapped in me and I wanted to post it. Part two will be up sometime this evening more than likely, it has already been edited and scheduled. For now, enjoy my pure self indulgence, I hope y'all like it.

Chapter One; Lurch Into The Fray

The galaxy, wide as it was, served as an unforgiving and inhospitable habitat for a young witch, despite the magic that ran rampant in her veins. Settled on Corellia, the Scarlet Witch had earned a living in fighting rings, where her combat training tied with her ability to manipulate the psyche of her opponents proved to be profitable enough. She only longed to stay under the radar of the mysterious Jedi.

What she kept to herself were enough credits to feed herself, the credits she earned fighting in rings, besting large men with her fighting skill and winning the bets that had been placed. Oftentimes she left with many eyes watching her back, waiting for a moment to attack; but she disappeared too fast for that, winnings in hand with the thought of food to fill her warm belly on her mind. 

Tonight the fight was fierce, the opponent she was up against was a skilled fighter, relying on their critical thinking and deft footing instead of strength and size. Wanda enjoyed the challenge. The fighter lunged, attempting to get the jump on her, but she moved to the left and kicked her knee into their stomach with all her force. They let out an ‘oomph’ and stumbled back; the witch let out a huff of surprise and moved to enact her winning scheme. She feigned right again as the Chiss followed, their thirst for revenge fueling their movements, and when her left hook landed, a tendril of scarlet energy wormed into the being’s eye and into its mind. The witch let slip a smirk, her onslaught began. 

With the thoughts of her adversary shared, Wanda made quick work of the rest of the fight. It didn’t last long, despite her attempts to make her moves seem natural; the crowd held their breath in shock as the small woman dodged and weaved her way through the punches and kicks thrown by the opposite fighter. As they tired themselves out, Wanda delivered three concise blows; a second kick to the stomach, a right hook to the cheek, and an uppercut for good measure. While normally she incapacitated her foe through exhaustion technique and finished with well placed blows to pressure points, Wanda knew from her forged connection that the Chiss would not go down in such a way; she was hardly shocked when the blue skinned being stood, then wiped the blood from their lips. 

“Now the fun begins.” Their voice was deep and menacing, and Wanda watched in fascination as the Chiss strode forward, slowly, their hands hanging at their sides. She recognized this; a calm, before a storm that few would be able to survive. The witch, however, was no normal being, and her mind was following every move the challenger made. As they jumped to land two kicks on Wanda’s head and shoulders, she moved back and watched as the being fell to the ground, trying to recuperate. She let him, if only to continue the interesting fight. 

They were glaring when they stood, anger fuming off of them. She only flashed a white smile, and shrugged. This seemed to enrage her foe further, pushing them to attack head on once again. Wanda fell to the side, but not before capturing the Chiss’ wrist in her hand and twisting until she heard something snap. 

As the alien fell, Wanda placed her foot in the middle of their back, waiting for the bell to sound of the roar of the crowd. Her exit from the ring was met with a hefty bag of Republic credits, though Wanda sensed something off. 

“This was my fourth fight of the week, I’m owed more than this!”

The mobster holding the bag, a Quarren male whose tentacles shifted downward upon her exclamation, frowned at her. Tired, and unwilling to push her abilities any further after already pushing hard enough, Wanda took the credits being waved at her. If she truly wanted the rest, she would get it. The Quarren backed down to allow Wanda to pass, and as she did she was acutely aware of the figure in a black cloak that tailed her at a seemingly respectful distance. While she wasn’t close enough to invade their mind, she could sense the powerful aura radiating from beneath the hood. At a glance behind her, she caught what looked like a crown poking beneath the hood. The rest of the figure was shrouded in darkness, literal black robes flowing about them, concealing their identity fully, though she thought she caught a glimpse of metal hanging at their waist. 

Her heart stilled. Had the Jedi found her? Of course, she was close to Coruscant and a fugitive on the run in the Inner Rim, it would’ve been easy to catch her. But surely not, with tensions running high in the Senate and the Jedi spread throughout the galaxy due to the ongoing Clone Wars. Surely she was not at the top of their list of priorities. 

In the interest of keeping the Jedi away from her temporary set up while she was on Corellia, the witch deviated from her course home. She sped her pace, leaving the Jedi in the dust; she was rumoured to be extremely powerful, surely they hadn’t sent an amateur after her? To hopefully prove herself wrong, Wanda vanished between a set of housing units, and opened the well of power in her to propel her upward. Despite already being on the next building over, the figure appeared on the opposite end of the rooftop. They followed her. Now that they stand near the lampposts of the lower levels, Wanda, brow furrowed in curiosity, could see the yellow and black face beneath the cloak's hood. She did not know who had found her, but she was certain that the Jedi would have sent someone adequately suited to handle her. 

“How long have you been following me?” She was tired of running, and the magik she had pent up needed an outlet. 

The creature removed his hood, and before her stood a striking figure that radiated power. His aura was flared and yellow. Fitting, she thought, and after the thought she could’ve sworn the creature’s face flashed with question. The witch thought for sure that the Jedi couldn’t read minds, but perhaps she was mistaken. Perhaps the Force truly was as mysterious as the commoners made it out to be. Nevertheless, there was a creature before her that oozed with a dark and enticing power, and something more. Wanda could not yet put her finger on it, but she knew that the ensuing fight would answer many of her questions. 

Giving no response to her question, the Jedi advanced until he was less than a metre away from her, who had not moved. Energy brimmed at her fingertips, calling to be released, and then died as the creature raised his empty hands, long nails gnarled at the ends of his fingers. She would get no fight from him, at least, not yet. 

“I have heard of you, Scarlet Witch. I would like to enlist your help.” His voice was deep, cool, and left no room for a question. Still, Wanda laughed. “I don’t work with Jedi.” 

What was once cold and calculating was now hostile, contemptful. “I’m no Jedi.” 

Wanda reached out with her hand, twisted in an animated move as she pulled the hilt of a lightsaber from his belt, and ignited it with a swift thwip of her thumb. A red blade fell from the opening, humming with controlled rage. The witch was left aghast, and off guard enough to allow the large creature to engulf her wrist in his hand and take the blade back, unfazed by her burst of power. She grinned inwardly; he must not have seen the tendrils of energy reach out and latch onto his lightsaber like an octopus seeking vice as it falls. 

“What’s your price, witch?”

[rowanviolet]

A Serpent’s Wings

I thought it was an army. The flames, the agony of my village on our proudest day. How could just one commit such an atrocity. I thought it was an army before the flames that painted my village in red, blackened the streets where children once played, parted to reveal a single figure. Perhaps others had tried to retreat from the festivities, but only those already outside the gates could have survived the ruin before me.

The figure wore unpolished steel, almost black from the soot. They dragged a blade that seemed to bleed flames, red hot from the heat. When they saw me, they said not a word. The army of a single soldier brought their blade to bear, challenging me. My village fell in my carelessness, but it was their hand that tested my ignorance with atrocities of its own. The sins of us both had brought the village to its knees. Now one of us was to commit a final sin.

I charge. The serpent does not block. Defense is not taught to the serpent warriors of Azahatla, the winged serpent herself. My blades of obsidian, curved like fangs fly from my waist to my hands, a maneuver practiced and performed before I could finish sentences. The black swords wirled into my foe, their armour like paper now that it faces Azahatla’s fangs.

They cried out, but did not falter. Taking a fighting stance, they slashed their sword into the ground in front of them. I was forced to step back to their slash, leaving room for flames to swing up between us. As I dashed forward to attack their shape in the flames, a gauntled hand caught the shoulder of my garb and tossed me back as if I were a pebble.

I felt like a snake caught beneath the foot of an elephant. Nowhere to run as my assailant walked out of the flames in an all too familar sight. How many had seen the same blade before them as they fell tonight? Against all instinct, I blocked. My arms nearly fell out at the strength of their blow, as they readied their next one I feared I might not be able to take it. I did, for I had no choice. So unlike a serpent, my traditions sacrificed before my life, I blocked.

I was pushed back, each step I took the ignoble knight before me brought me closer to a large tree that had once stood as a landmark of the village. As a young girl I’d scaled the tree each morning, wanting to see the sun rise on my village. Climbing it now I knew I would see nothing but ash. 

I brought my blades up to block again, and my foot hit a root as I stepped back. I couldn’t take a hit from that blade while standing. I tried anyway, sparks flying of my blades as the burning sword broke through my untrained defense. It slliced through my robes, across my chest and stomach. The wound cauterized instantly, sending each fibre of my body screaming out in pain. But I would not join them, not yet.

As they get ready to make their final blow, I do not bring my blades up. I was taught the ways of the winged serpent Azahatla. A serpent does not block because there is nothing that can touch them. I leap up, my foe’s strike hitting the tree behind me. I bring my legs up and push off against the tree. For a brief moment I fly, one with the wind. When I remember the smoke that wind carries, my euphoria fades.

I fall behind my opponent, blades whirling. They begin to turn and I slash with my right blade at their wrist. Through steel and sinew, flesh and bone. The first fang makes a clean cut, their sword rendered unuseable. They go to scream out, perhaps in shock, pain or both. My left blade, already piercing their throat cuts them off before their voice can manage a whisper.

They fall. I scream, for my village, for the pain in my chest, for the tree that I sacrificed to save my own life. I fall to my knees and pray. The winged serpent watches over what I have lost from her place in the clouds. To survive is to remember the past. But as I stand, I look forward, to the world and my future. I will not survive by Azahatla’s hand, I will thrive.

[open--till--midnight]

Can i request a hate sex with geralt of rivia and fem!reader?

Reader "wins" a training fight with geralt and brags about it a little to much for his liking so he rails her against a tree?

Or reader steels geralt's kill and he punishes her in his bedroom at the inn they are staying at?

You dont have to do any of which if you dont want to:)

You Tease

geralt x fem!reader

warnings | smut sooo 18+, minors DNI, a bit rough i guess, let me know if i missed anything

wc | 1.1k

a/n | i am still very new at writing smut, so pls bear with me. also at the beginning, im pretending i know anything about swordfighting :)

***

Geralt grunted as he parried your blow, following with a riposte. You manage to jump back in time to avoid his retaliation. The smirk on his face grew by the minute, you knew he was confident in his abilities, and gods, you wanted to knock him down a peg. The only way you could do that would be to play dirty.

After your city was ravaged by war, you took to the sword. Mostly, you taught yourself, but when a certain witcher crossed your path, you clung to him like a baby. At first, he tolerated you. But your personality clashed with his, so much so that fighting was inevitable and a daily occurrence. Yet neither of you left the other.

So this is how you blew off steam - fighting in the woods. You were high on success and you were determined to beat him. Because today, you had caught dinner first and delivered the final blow to the slyzard you’d even tracked before him. He was pissed, to say the least.

As Geralt lifted his blade to the side and over his head, you took your chance. Lifting your sword up to block his swing, you swept your foot behind his, knocking him off balance. With the witcher down, you pressed the tip of your blade gently against his neck.

“Looks like I won.”

“You cheated. That’s not winning.”

“Yes, it is, actually.” Your sword rose to tap the underside of his chin, “My real opponent would be dead now, I call that a win.”

“We were training, y/n.”

“I wasn’t.” You smirked, reaching your hand out to help him up. To your surprise, he accepted the gesture.

You sat down on a log, exhausted, and added another log. It was getting dark and you were in no mood to be cold tonight.

“You better step up your game tomorrow, big guy.” Now you didn’t even try to hide your smile, “Wouldn’t want word of a witcher constantly losing to a human woman, would you?”

Geralt shocked himself with his restraint, choosing to ignore your antagonizing remarks. Besides, he had other things on his mind.

You had, of course, slept together before. Always in a moment of heated passion, and never spoken of again until its next occurrence. And Geralt wanted it more often than he cared to admit. It was almost always on his mind. You beating him already turned him on, but now your endless taunting was making him angry.

Geralt grabbed your jaw and slowly guided you back against a nearby tree. His breath was hot on your ear as he looked down at you.

“I can smell you, girl. Now tell me what you want.”

“Fuck you, Geralt.”

“Uh uh. Try that again.” His grip on you tightened and his body pressed yours even further against the rough bark of the tree. You could feel it catch on your blouse and it digging into your flesh, but that was not at the forefront of your mind right now.

“Why don’t you tell me, I can feel you too, remember? That���s embarrassing for you.”

He didn’t answer, he only pushed your head back and slammed his lips against yours. His other hand slid down your front so it rested just under your waistband.

“Not gonna touch you until you admit you want it. I fucking know how wet you are, y/n.”

“Then you already know what I want.” You bit his bottom lip, drawing a drop of blood. That did it. He broke.

His hand met your heat and his thumb pressed hard on the place you needed him most. You gripped the front of his shirt tugging him closer. When a finger entered you, an embarrassingly loud gasp escaped you.

“Someone’s excited, aren’t they?”

You wanted to smack him, maybe you would, but for now, you reached for the hem of his shirt. He didn’t budge. Clearly, he didn’t want to remove either of his hands from your body. One still holding your jaw as he ravaged your mouth, the other adding another finger, plunging fast and deep at a heavenly rhythm. So you opted for his pants, though his growing bulge was making the already tight pants even harder to remove.

“Gods, Geralt, help me.”

Almost faster than you could register, his pants were gone and his shirt soon after. You made quick work of your own clothes before his hands found their way back to their previous spots.

The night chilled your bare body, but the heat coming from the witcher quickly eased that sensation and replaced it with a kind of heat you couldn’t describe.

You were coming closer and closer to your high - his fingers working in perfect unison with his thumb at your clit. When your eyes glazed over your head lulled back, allowing him access to suck and make new marks on your neck.

“Ger-ah” He hummed along with your voice, resting his head in the crook of your neck. He must be getting truly desperate.

Your hips bucked frantically against his hand as you came. And immediately after, he was removing his hand and lifting you up, your legs instinctively wrapping around his midsection.

When he looked at you, only for a moment, his pupils were blown and his mouth slightly parted. It was a delicious sight and you were already ready for more.

“Augh, Geralt, just fuck me already!”

“Oh, so now you can ask. How nice.” He lined himself up to your entrance, “Well, this is what you fucking get.”

He pushed into you, all the way to the hilt, fast and rough, as always. The burn was momentary before a warmth took its place. And he only gave you a moment to get used to his girth before drawing himself nearly the entire way out and slamming back in, earning him a filthy moan.

You think it was because of that that he slowed down to a painfully slow pace. Ever the tease. Guess you deserved it, though. You hated this man.

“Geralt!”

“Hm? I know you can talk now, dear, so do it.”

“Fuck- fuck you! Fuck me!”

He did just that, setting an excruciating pace. Lewd noises echoed through the forest, and you pitied any creatures that had to endure them.

"Good girl." He cooed. You could've cum right then and there, just from his words alone.

The witcher came loudly, but he didn't slow down. Instead, he reached between you and put pressure on your clit, rubbing small, yet fast, circles.

You chanted his name like a prayer, gripping onto his shoulders as if your life depended on it. When you came, you moaned into his neck, leaving bite marks as you went.

When he left you, he stood you up on your own, making sure you were balanced before moving to redress himself. You followed suit.

As always, you didn't speak afterward. But you both knew it would happen again within days

[suhtorus]

𝙩𝙚𝙖𝙢 𝙚𝙛𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙩 — olympic team / fem reader

[ atsumu, sakusa, suna, kageyama, gao, bokuto, hinata, iwaizumi, oikawa ]

the stress of the first match seems to be taking a toll on the team's spirit, and you refuse to sit and watch them fail when you know you can be of help. but can you really handle all of them?

(or, where you end up having a gang bang with 8 professional volleyball players, and 1 athletic trainer)

⥅ word c. 7,928

⥅ warnings. sub reader, gang bang, foursomes, voyeurism?, fellatio, cum play, vaginal penetration, anal, unprotected sex, creampie, facial, size + stomach bulging kink, praise kink, mild degradation, double penetration, pussy job (for like, one second), double vaginal penetration, fingering, squirting, overstimulation, someone passes out, aftercare

⥅author n. brought to u thanks to this tweet + @kmorgzz​ who suggested adding iwaoi to the mix

special mention to my wife and love of my life, runa. @tsumue​ u had me laughing at 4am as i read ur comments in the google doc. i don't know what i'd do without u, tysm for beta and putting up with me for the past week ♡ 

ps. im v sorry if ur fave didn't make the cut (╥_╥) i added the ones im more familiar with, in terms of writing

if someone had told you you’d be attending the olympic games not as a spectator but as part of japan’s team, you’d have never believed them. but here you are, sitting in the same room with the most skilled players in the country as none other than their personal assistant.

“iwaizumi-san! do you think kageyama and i could pull off a quick attack right at the beginning of the set?”

“shoyo-kun, if there’s someone you’ll be doing the quick attack with it’s me,” atsumu’s eyes land on kageyama, smirking at the other setter from across the room, “right, tobio-kun?”

“you’re a disgrace.”

sakusa’s statement earns an offended scoff from the blond setter, the rest of the team rolling their eyes and sighing at the all-too-familiar scene.

“oi! we don’t have time for petty fights!”

after iwaizumi gets everyone’s attention back on him, he barely finishes explaining tomorrow’s match opponents and their plays without losing the team’s attention. he might be there to train them and make sure they’re on top of their game, but he knows when the team is lacking morale and, sadly, today’s one of those days.

the meeting is over and all of you go to the dining hall, fetching your dinner and sitting on your respective table with you right next to iwaizumi.

since you took that part-time job at the msby jackals, you quickly caught onto their small tics and tell-tale signs when something isn’t right. atsumu becomes a complete asshole which makes sakusa lose his temper sooner than usual. meanwhile, bokuto and hinata become very fidgety, often causing a bit of chaos around them as clumsiness radiates off of them.

when the national team was announced, you were offered the job as the trainer’s assistant—all thanks to the jackals who recommended you to their superiors for said position. your pay-check might say you’re just iwaizumi’s assistant, but you’re basically there to cover the needs of the entire team—all of them.

“iwa-chan!”

your head snaps to the side as a good-looking man takes the last free seat next to iwaizumi.

“aren’t you supposed to be sitting with your team?” iwaizumi asks him, taking a bite of his food while waiting for an answer.

the unknown man huffs exaggeratedly, rolling his eyes as he too starts to eat, “thought you’d miss your best friend.”

“hanamaki isn’t here.”

the stranger opens his mouth to reply, clearly offended by iwizumi’s words, when he notices you peeping at him.

“oh? hi! i think we haven’t met,” he shoots you a charming smile, bringing out his remarkably handsome features, “oikawa tooru, it’s nice to meet you.”

you introduce yourself, bowing at him and focusing back on your food.

both friends start to discuss tomorrow’s events, which inevitably brings out iwaizumi’s concern for his players.

“they seem off,” he’s playing around with the food as he stares at the players sitting in the table in front of yours, “i don’t know if i should talk to them or let them be.”

he’s clearly concerned for them, you can see it in his eyes—the doubt, wondering if he has been doing a good job with the team.

“iwaizumi-san, i-i… perhaps i could aid them this time?”

his head snaps in your direction, a mix of surprise and worry taking over his face, “no way, that’d be too much for you.”

oikawa’s eyebrows scrunch up as he observes you two but says nothing, choosing to listen attentively at you trying to convince iwaizumi while the latter sighs and reminds you that it’s not just the jackals this time.

it takes a while for iwaizumi to accept your offer, pondering the pros and cons, but he ends up accepting it; for everyone’s sakes.

“i’m lost.”

oikawa’s words make your insides flare-up, looking down at your hands in order to avoid looking at him, his curious eyes switching between his best friend and you.

iwaizumi ignores him, standing up from his seat and walking to the table in front of you with you and oikawa watching closely. the team turns to look at him, waiting for him to speak since it’s obvious it has to be something important by the severe look on his face.

“seeing as some of you are clearly out of it, our assistant here has very kindly volunteered to help you guys for tonight.”

a few heads immediately perk up, looking at you with bright eyes once you answer their silent question with a smile.

“please, be good to her. i’ll be there supervising anyways, so don’t think of trying anything funny.”

“oikawa-san! you’re coming with us, right?” hinata looks expectantly at said male, excitement clear in the redhead’s eyes, “she’s the best!”

both iwaizumi and you freeze on the spot, gauging oikawa’s reaction who only looks more confused.

“you’re welcome to join us, if you so desire,” it’s you who’s offering it this time, surprising iwaizumi and earning a worried glance from him.

oikawa can’t deny he’s dying to know what everyone’s so excited about, and after thinking about it for a few more seconds, he has made up his mind.

“shall we go, then?”

—

“alright, ground rules.”

just a handful of the team sits in the room, the ones who know what’s happening waiting eagerly for the green light while the rest wonders what the fuss is about. as much as you want to help them all, it’d be impossible; which is why iwaizumi picked the ones he thought needed the morale boost the most.

with a nod in your direction, he lets you know you’re free to speak.

“the jackals already know this,” you say and atsumu snickers from his seat, winking at you as hinata and bokuto nod excitedly, “but i’m not too strict about the entire thing.”

you can feel the pairs of curious eyes burning holes in you—trying to decipher what’s going on. so, after taking a deep breath and getting an awkward, encouraging smile from iwaizumi, you start voicing out the rules.

“please, be patient. there are so many of you and only one of me. i promise you’ll get your turn,” you give atsumu a pointed look, and this time it's sakusa who snorts while the blond setter rolls his eyes, “which brings me to the next rule, no seconds.”

a hand raises in the air, making you advert your attention to its owner. 

“i still don’t get what’s happening,” suna’s eyes narrow down at you, noticing the embarrassment and hesitation in your posture.          

“don’t worry, suna. we’ll show ya.”

“shut it, miya.”

clearing up your throat, you smile coyly at the middle blocker, “it’ll make sense once i finish explaining, suna-san.”

he shrugs but stays quiet. taking into account the jackals’ reactions plus the cryptic rules, an idea has already formed in his mind. but it couldn’t be that. right?

“uh, again, only one round. all entrances are fine,” you pause, going through the rules in your head to see if there’s anything you might be forgetting, “oh! and you’ll be paired up in teams of three to make things faster.”

“one more thing,” iwaizumi speaks up, this time looking at you instead of the awaiting men, “don’t forget to let us know how you’re doing.”

two loud claps break the tense atmosphere, “well, we should get started then,” atsumu raises from his spot and walks towards you. his hands cradle your face between them and lift it so you can face him properly, “what do ya say, princess?”

his lips land on yours before you can reply to him, a small squeal getting stuck in your throat when his hands travel down your body until he’s squeezing your ass.

you’re too caught up in the kiss to notice the new presence looming behind you.

“i’ll take your pussy before anyone can taint it with their dick.”

sakusa’s words make you shudder. you break apart from atsumu’s mouth to turn around and face him, his dark eyes alluring and drawing you towards him.

“oi, newbie,” atsumu calls out to suna who scoffs in return, “c’mere and join us.”

meanwhile, sakusa guides you to the bed, making you sit on his lap as you wait for the other two to show up. once they do, atsumu immediately settles behind you while suna stands awkwardly at the foot of the bed. it’s hard for you to read his expression since you’re not too familiar with him, so you offer him a reassuring smile and pat the spot next to you. 

the rest of the team watches from their seats as the four of you get started. 

suna lifts your chin, his eyes staring down at you before leaning down and kissing the corner of your mouth. he trails down your neck until he reaches your chest, sucking on the skin gently before running his tongue over the delicate area. in the meantime, atsumu unbuttons your blouse, taking it off and playing with your breasts while sakusa busies himself with taking your pants off.

“i get the hype, now,” suna whispers in your ear, blowing air on it and then biting down on your earlobe, making the hairs of your body rise.

his lips capture yours in a slow kiss —savoring your taste— and one of his hands goes to the back of your neck to keep you in place. his teeth play with your bottom lip, biting it softly and pulling away, his hooded eyes calculating your reaction.

“don’t get too excited, suna,” atsumu says from his spot behind you, pinching your nipples between his fingers and prompting a whine to escape your lips, “you’ll only get her mouth.”

“mhm, is that so?” suna’s question is directed towards you rather than atsumu, tilting your chin up and smirking at the dazed look in your eyes, “can’t wait to see that pretty mouth bulging with my cock, then.”

his lewd words earn a few coughs and clearing throats from the rest, which he chooses to ignore when your hand cups his growing bulge.

“enough you two, let the poor woman have a bit of pleasure too,” sakusa’s dark eyes look at you questioningly, silently asking if you’re ready to continue.

in return, you cup his face with your free hand and kiss his cheek—knowing he wouldn’t appreciate a kiss on the mouth when you just finished making out with another man.

they finish getting you out of your clothes until your bare cunt is hovering over sakusa’s lap. he’s quick to undress and ease his cock into you, suna and atsumu observing as they get rid of their clothes as well.

“fuck,” sakusa groans in your ear, the position allowing you to hide your face in his neck and wrap your arms around his shoulders, “always so tight.”

“scoot over, i need to prep her ass.”

suna snorts at atsumu’s words, pumping his cock twice before kneeling on the mattress—right next to you. he pats your cheek with the swollen head, looking down at you with a faint smirk.

“open up.”

your eyes immediately focus on his length, your mouth watering at the sight. you open your mouth and stick your tongue out, looking up at him and observing as he rests the tip on your tongue. 

“looking so pretty with a cock in your mouth,” he slowly slides in, guiding your head down until half of him is inside, “so warm.” 

a cold liquid dribbles on your backside, making you flinch forward and causing suna’s cock to slide in even more.

“relax, baby. it’s just me,” atsumu rubs the liquid on your asshole, playing with it with his finger before finally sliding it in.

your muscles contract involuntarily, making sakusa groan as he keeps still inside your pussy, waiting for you to grow used to the multiple things going on around you.

“hurry up before i start fucking her.”

a second finger slides in and you moan around suna’s cock, spit running at the corners of your mouth which reminds you to swallow. you hollow your cheeks and retract your mouth until only the tip remains inside, running your tongue over the slit and making the middle blocker shudder.

“someone’s hungry,” he muses.

you hum around him, bobbing your head back and forth and pumping the rest of his length with one hand.

“i’m gonna try get in now, okay?” atsumu taps your ass with his cock, lining it up with your asshole and thrusting in. he watches as the head of his cock finally slips in, groaning when the familiar tightness engulfs him, “that’s it, baby. doin’ so good for me.”

you have to remove your mouth from suna’s cock to avoid biting down on him, the stretch slightly more painful than pleasurable which eventually leads to you tensing up even more. 

“you gotta relax,” atsumu says under his breath, strained by the way you feel around his dick.

it takes you around a minute to calm down, taking deep breaths until you feel yourself loosen up and, with one last push, he’s finally inside.

“omi?” you say against his neck, “could you move a bit, please?”

said man grunts as he starts to move his hips, your slick helping his cock glide in, “color.”

it takes you a few seconds to understand what he meant.

“oh! uhh, green.”

atsumu’s thrusts are slow —testing the waters— since the last thing he wants is to get yelled at for being too rough, too soon. but you’re growing impatient, moving your hips backwards and trying to get more of him inside of you.

“m-more, ‘tsumu. i can take it,” you say and he immediately complies, his muscular thighs now slapping against your ass.

suna remains kneeling next to you, cock in his hand as he waits for you to bring your attention back to him. but he doesn’t have to wait too long, your hand wrapping around his cock and guiding it back into your mouth once you’ve set a steady pace with the other two men.

“thought you had forgotten about me.”

he pushes your hair out of your face, watching your lips wrap around his girth. it’s taking all of his willpower to not hold your head and fuck your face until you’re gagging around him, afraid it might be a big ‘no’ from you. and since it’s the first time he’s getting to experience this, he decides to take whatever’s given to him.

“you’re so wet,” sakusa points out as he looks down at where you two are connected, observing his cock slide in and out of your cunt, covered with your slick.

“‘course she is, she’s being stuffed by three cocks.”

“feels good…” your manage to say after releasing suna with a pop, pumping his shaft with your hand, “a-am i making you feel better?”

a hand lands on your ass, causing you to yelp and tighten your hold on suna’s cock. 

“what do ya think, hm? we’re getting our dicks wet in none other but our slutty little assistant's holes,” atsumu plays with your ass, squeezing it and humming when the imprint of his hands appears on the soft flesh.

“mhm, quite the slut you are,” sakusa whispers in your ear, kissing your neck afterwards, “as long as i get to make a mess out of that cunt of yours before anyone else, i will always enjoy these little sessions of ours.”

your eyes land on suna, waiting for him to say his thoughts on the matter.

his gaze drops to your hand, covered in his pre-cum and your spit which sends a jolt to his cock, making it throb in your hand.

“can’t say i hate it.”

you smile at his words, recognizing the challenge hidden behind them. your mouth wraps around the flushed tip, eyes closing when both sakusa and atsumu thrust up into your holes at the same time. you try to keep your hand steady as you suck suna off, but the lewd grunts and moans coming from them, plus their cocks filling you so nicely make your rhythm falter every once in a while.

a hand starts toying with your clit, causing you to moan around suna’s cock. the vibrations make him shudder, scowling at himself when he realizes his orgasm is approaching faster than he expected.

“fuck, fuck– princess? do you mind if i cum inside?” atsumu grunts.

your muscles clench at the thought of being filled with his cum, imagining the thick liquid oozing out of your sensitive holes only to stuff it back in with your fingers.

“y-yes, ‘tsumu. cum inside me,” you pant as your hands squeeze suna’s cock, pumping it faster as you notice his hips jerking towards you. you turn your face to look at sakusa, who has his eyebrows drawn upwards and his mouth open slightly as he too feels overwhelmed by the pleasure, “omi, you can cum inside as well.”

and he doesn’t need to be told twice, his large hands holding you by your hips so he can thrust his cock into your drenched cunt faster.

moans and squelching noises echo around the room. atsumu picks up his pace as he feels his orgasm approaching, his deep grunts fanning over your neck and taking over your hearing. the drag of sakusa’s pubic bone against your clit has you cumming shortly after. your head rolls forward as both men keep thrusting in and out of you, only stopping once their cum fill your clenching holes.

“shit– look at me,” suna orders you, and you barely have time to process what’s happening.

his cum lands on your face, his hand helping you pump his throbbing cock as the ropes of cum cover your skin. he exhales heavily once he’s done, brushing the flushed head of his cock over your swollen lips, and smearing the white liquid around them.

it’s silent for a few seconds, save for the heavy breathing and pants coming from your mouths.

“holy shit,” oikawa’s voice breaks the silence. his cock strains almost painfully against his pants at the sight of what awaits him.

“yeah, holy shit,” atsumu laughs off, brushing his hair out of his face with one hand as he massages the flesh of your ass with the other, “ya never disappoint, princess.”

with a grunt, the blond setter removes his softening cock from you, his honey eyes —plus a few curious ones— observing the way his cum dribbles out from your stretched hole. the same thing happens with sakusa, who lifts your hips off of him, his cock falling on his stomach and the mix of your slick and his cum dripping down on his length.

atsumu’s fingers immediately go to your cunt, pumping the juices back into you, “god, you love this. don’t you, baby?”

all you can do is whine, your hands clenching the sheets until he removes his fingers from your sensitive pussy, and stuffs them inside your mouth. 

“we all get a turn?” kageyama whispers not so discreetly to hinata, who only nods eagerly in return.

you lick atsumu’s fingers clean which earns you a radiant smile from him.

“here.”

suna has his arm outstretched, handing you a tissue so you can clean your face.

“thank you,” you take it from his hands as you climb off of sakusa’s lap.

you’re cleaning the residues of cum on your face when a hand falls on top of your head. 

“drink some water before you start the next round,” sakusa’s dark eyes suddenly seem warmer and kinder to you, patting your head before disappearing into the bathroom.

after tossing the used tissue away, you turn to iwaizumi and give him a firm nod.

“who’s next?”

your dazzling smile has the rest of the men in awe, silently praying it’s them who get to feel your body with their hands next.

“bokuto,” the wing spiker’s immediately perks up at the sound of his name, “you, kageyama, and hakuba are next.”

the three men raise from their seats and make their way towards the bed—towards you.

“hey, bo,” you offer a loving smile to him, “you ready?”

his strong arms wrap around you, kissing your cheek loudly and making you giggle, “it feels as if i’ve been waiting forever. of course, i’m ready!”

meanwhile, kageyama and gao stand at the foot of the bed, waiting for any instructions or a signal from you that could tell them when to start. luckily, you’re quick to notice their hesitation.

”is there a particular place where you want to be?” you ask them, looking specifically at kageyama and gao, since you want to make sure they feel included.

“dibs on your mouth!”

you blush at bokuto’s enthusiasm but accept his request, stroking his cheek as you wait for the other two to answer.  

“i’ll take whatever,” kageyama says and scratches the back of his neck.

“me too,” gao smiles and takes a few steps towards you, making bokuto move away from you. his large hand tucks one piece of your hair away, his eyes staring at yours before dropping to your lips, “although, i think i’d like it better if i had your pussy gripping my cock. wouldn’t you like that?”

he presses his front against yours, his erection poking at your belly which earns a small gasp from you. you have to stop yourself from taking a look at the tent in his sweatpants, trying to figure out how much of him there is hidden inside the fabric.

“o-okay.”

the middle blocker smiles at you before diving down to your lips. his hands grab your waist, lifting you up from the ground and making you wrap your legs around his torso. he gently places you down on the bed and kisses his way down your neck until his mouth is right above your erect nipple.

“hey! i want to kiss her too,” bokuto complains, “you can’t hog her like that.”

“s’okay bo, come here.”

he doesn’t have to be told twice, immediately climbing onto the bed and leaning down to kiss your lips.

you grab the back of his head and run your fingers through his soft hair, pulling on it gently which causes a groan to rumble in his chest.

a pair of hands slide over your legs, pushing them apart until your bare cunt is spread wide open for everyone to see.

“you’re dripping, babe,” gao murmurs over your nipple, giving it a light tug before flicking his tongue over it, “do you want my cock that badly?”

you can only moan and nod, your lips still busy with bokuto’s.

but there’s someone who still has yet to join you.

“tobio-chan, if you’re not going to do anything then let me take your place instead.”

oikawa’s words snap you out of your daze. you pat bokuto’s cheek signaling him to let go of you, and the same thing happens with gao as you try to sit up. your eyes fall on kageyama who stands at the same spot with a conflicted look and an obvious erection in his pants. 

“hey,” you crawl your way towards him and sit on your knees, “are you uncomfortable?”

his mouth opens but nothing comes out of it. he can feel the weight of everyone’s stare on him, making him look away from you. 

a few seconds pass and there’s still no answer.

“you don’t have to do this, you know?” you say in a small tone, slightly confused as to why he’s rejecting you, “i just thought… i could help you relax.”

he nods, still avoiding your gaze.

you take a look at iwaizumi –who looks as equally as puzzled as you– before looking back at the setter.

“do you want to leave?”

at this, his head finally snaps towards you, “no, i-” he pauses. his eyes are immediately drawn to your mouth, making him involuntarily wet his lips, “i want to stay.”

relief washes over you, a timid smile spreading on your lips which is quickly mirrored by him. you take his hand in yours and guide him to the other side of the bed, urging him to join the rest of you. there’s a hunger in his eyes that has your pussy dripping with your slick, a sigh leaving your lips when your back hits the pillows as you watch him take gao’s previous spot.

“kiss me, tobio.”

and he does. it starts slow, hesitant, but it soon turns desperate. his tongue strokes yours before sucking on it, spit coating your lips thanks to the messiness of the kiss. the strain of his cock inside his pants becomes too uncomfortable to his liking, causing him to start humping against you, trying to relieve himself.

noticing his predicament, you move your hand between your bodies and palm his hard-on. he groans against your lips, his hips jerking forward seeking more of your touch.

in the meantime, both bokuto and gao pump their cocks with their hands, having taken their clothes off while you talked to kageyama.

gao squeezes the head of his cock between his hands, pre-cum oozing from the slit as he imagines the way your cunt is going to grip him, “babe, you’re making us suffer.”

“get in line!”

“atsumu, shut the fuck up.”

“baby?” bokuto asks from where he stands, his own cock stiff and ready to be inside your mouth, “we don’t mean to be pushy, but do you think you could get to us soon?”

“bokuto-san, you’re going to break a rule!” hinata says, clearly concerned for his teammate, “be patient, remember?”

the rest of the team laughs and you can’t help but join them.

at this, bokuto pouts playfully at you, “you’re just teasing me, baby.”

“then come here,” you gasp when kageyama’s mouth sucks at the base of your neck, “y-you wanted my mouth, right?”

bokuto kneels next to your face, patting the leaking tip on your lips.

“i’m going to fuck that pretty mouth of yours and you’re going to take it like a good girl,” he says, his tone leaving no room for questions, “open.”

you comply immediately, lolling out your tongue and waiting for him to rest his heavy cock on top of it. 

the lewd sight in front of him makes bokuto shudder. his hands grasp your head, pushing you down his length until he feels your throat constricting around him.

“fuck– baby,” he grunts and gives a shallow thrust, “i know you can do better than that.”     

you try to relax your jaw so you can fit more of him inside of your mouth. but as you are about to graze your nose against his pubic bone, a finger runs between your folds causing you to flinch.

“i’m still here.”

gao’s tone sounds stern, even if a playful smile tugs his lips upwards, you can see the seriousness swirling in his eyes.

kageyama sighs and leaves your side, stepping away momentarily to take his pants off. 

the middle blocker takes it as his chance to settle between your legs as bokuto keeps your mouth busy.

“you’re drenched, sweetheart,” he muses, running his digits over your slit, “don’t worry, i’ll fill this pussy with my cock so well that you’ll be cumming in no time.”

your eyes travel to his shaft, watching as he pumps it twice before running it between your folds. your brows furrow when you notice how heavy it feels, making you wonder if it will fit in.

he lines himself up with your hole, pushing the head inside which is enough to have you whining around bokuto’s cock.

“you look so sexy,” bokuto groans, pushing your head away from him and watching your spit run down your mouth. he looks at kageyama who stands awkwardly with his cock in hand, “i guess we’re sharing her mouth.”

the setter’s eyes widen slightly before nodding, mimicking bokuto’s position and nudging his cock on your lips, “suck.”

your breath hitches at his order, caught off guard by his demanding tone. you grab his cock from the base and guide it into your mouth, pumping bokuto’s length with your other hand. you hum around kageyama, running your tongue over the head of his cock before hollowing your cheeks and sucking harshly on it. 

but your attention on them doesn’t last too long, the sudden feel of your pussy getting split open by gao’s cock taking it away.

“so tight,” he grunts, one of his hands running over the skin of your inner thigh until he reaches your soaking cunt. he pulls your folds apart, watching you struggle to take his cock inside you—no matter how wet you are, “i bet those jackals haven’t been fucking you like you deserve.”

“oi!” “not true!”

you free your mouth from kageyama and use both hands to pump his and bokuto’s cock, “s-so big, ugh-”

gao pushes more of him in, half of his cock already inserted in you. but he’s just so thick, so big, that you can’t help but clamp down your walls around him. his thumb starts rubbing circles on your clit, trying to relax your walls, as his other hand settles on your abdomen.

“you’re going to be so full of my cock that you’ll be able to see it,” he gives a gentle pat to your belly, “right here.”

your grip on the other two men tightens as gao finally bottoms out, a whine breaking through your lips at the stretch.

“if only you could see yourself,” his thrusts are lazy, mesmerized by the way your belly bulges when he pushes his cock inside you, “so fucking sexy with my fat cock inside your cunt.”

your lips wrap around the tip of bokuto’s cock once more, closing your eyes as pleasure clouds your head. he thrusts in, hitting the back of your throat and making you gag.

“good girl,” bokuto exhales, “taking my cock so well.”

you quicken the pace of your other hand, looking at kageyama as you obscenely suck bokuto.

the setter’s eyes refuse to leave yours, “who would’ve thought our assistant could be so naughty.”

“as if you’re complaining,” gao says, lifting your leg over his shoulder. the new angle allowing him to press his hips closer to yours.

“i never said i was.”

bokuto curses under his breath when you start sucking his balls, pumping the rest of his length with your hand and squeezing the head of kageyama’s cock with the other.

“you’re going to make me cum,” bokuto groans.

giggling, you lick your way up and run your tongue over the slit, “cum in my mouth.”

the sound of collective groans echoes in the room, a fair amount of players finding your words arousing.

“what a slut, let’s see if you keep talking when you’re covered in our cum.”

gao’s threat goes straight to your pussy, making you cream around his girth. the pace of his thumb on your clit quickens once he notices your walls spasming around him.

“ngh, fuck!” you’re breathing heavily by now, barely managing to keep the pace of your hands consistent, “i-i’m gonna… i’m gonna cum.”

“let go, baby.”

one of gao’s hands travels up your body until he’s pinching your nipple between his fingers.

“shit, shit, shit,” you’re thrashing underneath him, your cunt fluttering around his cock thanks to your orgasm.

kageyama’s way too focused on the way your face contorts in pleasure to notice how his hips have started to jerk faster. that is until the familiar coil suddenly snaps and his cum lands on your chin and part of your chest. 

“h-how did you get even tighter- hah!”

warm spurts of cum fill your cunt, the sense of fullness intensifying as gao frees his load inside of you.

“i’m cumming, baby. fuck, fuck–” bokuto chants your name as he too reaches his orgasm, quickly shoving his cock into your mouth and releasing his thick cum inside of it.   

you make sure to keep sucking him, milking his cock dry. once you remove your mouth from him, you bring his and kageyama’s cock closer to your face and pucker your lips, letting the mix of cum and spit fall on their cocks before giving a few kitten licks to the flushed heads.

gao starts to remove his cock from your insides, cursing at the state of your pussy once he’s finally out.

“holy fuck, she’s tightening around nothing.”

you let out a low moan when his fingers spread your lower lips, “t-too sensitive.”

“i think that’s enough,” iwaizumi intervenes, pushing him away, “color?”

“yellow,” but you continue as soon as you see his face become stern, “relax, i just need to calm down a bit.”

kageyama offers you a towel before awkwardly thanking you for your help. and after receiving a kiss on the forehead from bokuto, the three of them leave to go clean themselves.

“iwa-chan, why don’t you give her a massage?”

you let your body fall on the mattress, extending your arms above your head and moaning at the stretch.

“mm, that’d be nice.”

iwaizumi rolls his eyes playfully when he sees you pouting at him, “get on your stomach, i’ll be right back.”

in the meantime, oikawa and hinata take the spots next to you, eager to finally have their turn with you.

“you’re so pretty,” oikawa runs his hands over the skin of your shoulders, “those idiots are lucky to have you.”

your eyes start closing up, focusing on the feel of his fingers on your skin and making goosebumps appear all over your body.

“shoyo, we should help her relax too. don’t you think?”

you catch the suggestive tone in his voice, but his touch feels so good that you choose to ignore it.

both men start caressing your body, hinata’s hands paying special attention to your shoulders while oikawa pets your hair, murmuring sweet nothings. 

“you ready?” iwaizumi pops back into the room, a bottle of oil and a clean towel in his hands.

“mhm.”

the towel rests on your ass, iwaizumi’s warm hands spreading the oil on your back and rubbing at the sore muscles.

“does that feel good, princess?” oikawa asks when he hears you sigh. you are about to reply when iwaizumi hits a sore spot, a groan slipping past your lips and making the setter chuckle, “can you tell me your color now?”

“green.”

oikawa looks at iwaizumi and both men seem to communicate through their eyes, the latter smirking before going back to work.

at first, you don’t pay too much attention to his movements, choosing to focus on the pleasure. but then you notice how his hands seem to ghost lower and lower until he’s kneading your ass, the towel long forgotten.

before you can comment on it, he moves them to your thighs, massaging the soft flesh. it all goes back to normal –or so you think– until his hands reach higher and his digits start grazing your slit.

“hajime…”

“shh,” oikawa coos in your ear, pushing your hair out of your face and kissing your temple, “let him take care of you.”

iwaizumi inserts one finger inside your pussy, curling it until he’s teasing the spongy walls.

whines escape your mouth, your hands gripping the bedsheets which are quickly replaced by hinata’s hands.

“so cute.”

another finger slips in and makes you open your eyes, looking at oikawa helplessly, “o-oikawa-san-”

“tooru,” he interrupts you.

“tooru,” you try his name and he hums, letting you know he’s listening, “could you… uh, k-kiss me?”

“of course, princess.”

he leans down to capture your lips, swallowing your moans when iwaizumi curls both fingers and massages your spot. 

you open your legs, allowing iwaizumi to finger you better as you rut your hips on the mattress, rubbing your clit against the fabric of the sheets and chasing after your orgasm.

“iwa– faster, please.”

he complies immediately, causing wetness to gush out of your cunt and making the distinctive squelching sounds fill the room.

“i’m gonna– ah! i’m c-cumming!” 

“cum for me,” he encourages you, and that’s all you need.

you gush around his fingers, your slick coating them as you squirm under the gaze of the three men.

hinata tugs at your hand, pulling you underneath him and kissing you sloppily. you gasp on his mouth, caught off guard by the sudden movement but quickly melting into the kiss.

he blushes once he pulls away, “s-sorry, couldn’t help myself.”

“it’s okay, shoyo,” you breathe out, caressing his cheek, “want me to help you?”

he beams at your offer, nodding eagerly as he watches you climb on top of him. you straddle his hips and run your cunt over his cock, shivering when his length grazes your clit.

“do you want me to ride you?” you whisper, playing with his hair. 

“wait- i think i have a better idea.”

hinata lifts you from his lap and moves until he’s sitting on the edge of the mattress. he pushes your hips with his hands, turning you around so you’re facing away from him. 

“you can sit on my lap now.”

your ass rests right on top of his cock, but he hooks his arms on your knees, spreading you open, as he lets himself fall back on the mattress.

“what are you–”

“oikawa-san, doesn’t this remind you of something?”

said man laughs, “how could i forget? we had quite some fun back in brazil, huh?”

you’re visibly confused, looking at oikawa with furrowed brows, “what do you want to do?”

“say, princess,” his tone suddenly sounds too sweet for your liking, “have you ever had two cocks in one hole?”

your eyes widen, looking back and forth between oikawa and iwaizumi—who has ridden himself of his clothes and sits next to you, his thick cock in his hand.

“i’ll take that as a no.”

“can we do that?” hinata asks from behind you, his breath fanning on your ear, “we’ll be gentle.”

“there’s literally another free hole for you to use!” someone yells, clearly annoyed they didn’t get the chance to do it.

oikawa clicks his tongue, “where’s the fun in that?”

after taking a minute to think it through, you agree to their offer, “okay… uh- iwa?” you turn to look at him, “what about you?”

seeing as there’s no room for him to take your ass, his eyes land on your mouth. and with two taps of his finger on your cheek, he lets you know his decision.

“think you can suck me off?”

they’re all given the green light when you answer his question. hinata raises you from his lap, aligning his cock with your entrance before letting your weight fall on top of it. you groan at the familiar thickness stretching you nicely, missing the flash of hunger in the setter’s eyes.  

“my turn.”

oikawa presses the tip on your entrance, pushing forward and making room for his own cock.

the burn of having two cocks in one hole is new to you, but it’s surprisingly more pleasurable than you thought it’d be. you lift your eyes to look at oikawa, his gaze already locked on you, and you feel your pussy cream around their cocks at the lust in his eyes.

“enjoying yourself, princess?”

you moan when he bottoms out, watching the muscles of his abdomen contract and feeling his cock pulsing inside of you.

the thrill of being stretched by two cocks, at the same time, has your head spinning; your thoughts becoming lewd as you picture both men cumming inside you and globs of cum dripping from your abused hole.

“oikawa-san, did you feel that?” hinata asks. half-amused, half excited, “she’s squeezing us so well.”

“naughty, princess,” the setter grunts, “don’t forget about iwa-chan.”

you turn your head to face him, catching the irritated look he sends oikawa before looking down at you.

iwaizumi’s eyes immediately soften, but a smirk slowly tugs at the corners of his lips, “you seem busy.”

“there’s always room for japan’s national team athletic trainer.”

he can’t help but laugh, shaking his head at the silly title. he raises from his seat and settles himself above you, his cock hovering on your face and making your mouth water.

“whenever you’re ready.”

you don’t need to be told twice. grasping his thick cock with your hand, you lean forward and flick your tongue on the head, looking at him through your lashes with faux innocence.

“start moving,” iwaizumi hisses, the words directed at the other two men, “seems like she needs a little reminder of who’s in charge right now.”

oikawa and hinata look at each other with smirks on their lips. as hinata said earlier, they’ve been in this position before, so there’s no need for words between them since they both know what’s coming next.

hinata moves his head slightly to the side, allowing you to rest your head on his shoulder and, at the same time, granting him the view of your cunt being filled with their cocks.

“look at her, oikawa-san” his eyes are locked on your pussy, captivated by the way you suck them in, “she looks so pretty with two cocks splitting her open.”

hinata’s lewd words prompt you to involuntarily moan, the vibrations landing on iwaizumi’s cock.  

“hmm, you like it when you’re reduced to nothing but a slut. don’t you?”

you blink up at iwaizumi as you keep bobbing your head up and down his shaft, opting to hum to let him know you’re not ignoring him.

but his words catch someone else’s attention.

“is that true?” oikawa asks, amusement clear in his voice, “you like being reminded you’re a whore? how much of a greedy slut you are by fucking an entire volleyball team?”

you’re speechless, his words –matched with his and hinata’s harsh thrusts– causing your eyes to roll to the back of your head.

“answer me.”

oikawa’s hand wraps around your throat, barely applying any pleasure but it’s enough to send your mind into a frenzy.

after releasing iwaizumi’s cock from your mouth, you take a second to swallow down your spit before answering him.

“y-yes, tooru. i like being treated like a slut.”

his eyes sparkle with mischief, pleased by your words.

“good, because that’s how you’re going to be treated from now on.”

a hand travels to your throbbing clit, rubbing circles on the sensitive nub.

“s-shoyo!”

“shh, it’ll make you feel good.”

something wet slaps against your cheek, “don’t get distracted.”

you nod and go back to sucking iwaizumi off, moaning every time hinata or oikawa hit a spot inside your cunt. you dare take a look at where your body connects with both men, and you catch yourself becoming entranced by the way their cocks slide in and out of your pussy so easily.

you are familiar with hinata’s cock, but it’s nice to see the contrast between the two of them. while hinata’s length is thick and veiny, oikawa’s leans towards the slimmer side—but still with a considerable length. either way, both men manage to hit those sweet spots inside you and make you see stars. 

“shit– princess,” oikawa falters a bit when he feels your walls fluttering around him.

“we can cum inside you, right?” hinata asks, sensing his orgasm approaching. after all, he had been waiting for his turn for around an hour.

you pull away from iwaizumi, a string of spit connecting your lips with his cock and causing it to twitch at the sight.

“you can cum wherever you want.”

“oh? the team’s cocksleeve,” oikawa adds, “i see.”

iwaizumi chuckles, combing your hair out of your face and pushing his cock back into the warmth of your mouth, “you like that nickname, sweetheart?”

with his length still in your mouth, you manage to hum in affirmation.

hinata’s pace on your clit quickens as his hips jerk faster, your cunt squeezing their cocks even more in return, “i’m cumming, ah– i-i’m gonna cum!”

he manages to say before you feel him twitch inside you, pumping his cum into your walls. the fullness plus his rapid movements on your clit cause the familiar warmth to take over your body. but it’s your fourth orgasm of the night, and before you can warn anyone, liquid spurts out of your cunt.

you squirm on top of hinata, gushing around his and oikawa’s cock while your mouth remains occupied with iwaizumi’s.

“holy shit.”

both oikawa and iwaizumi cum at the sight of you squirting before them, observing the wetness soaking oikawa’s abdomen and running all the way down onto the bedsheets. they groan as they feel their load releasing into you, oikawa filling your tender cunt while iwaizumi fills your mouth.

you try to swallow a bit of iwaizumi’s cum but it’s useless. your chest heaves in exhaustion, your eyes closing involuntarily as you’re being hit with wave after wave of fatigue.

“hey,” oikawa winces when he removes his cock from you. he shoots a worried glance at iwaizumi before he’s leaning forward so he can take a closer look at you, “princess? how are you feeling?”

iwaizumi nudges hinata with his knee, wordlessly telling him to let go of you.

the following moments become a foggy mess, your mind barely registering the pair of arms wrapping around you and carrying you somewhere else.

all you can feel is tiredness, and the dampness between your thighs, before you finally pass out.

—

consciousness slowly makes its way to you, replacing the sleepiness and making you aware of your surroundings as a familiar soreness sits heavy on your body.

in an instant, flashbacks from the previous night run through your mind.

you grip the duvet and push it away from you, only to notice the set of clothes you’re wearing: an oversized hoodie and a pair of sweatpants that clearly don’t belong to you. but you don’t have time to dwell on it, the sound of your ringtone blasting all over the room and making you scramble around the bed so you can answer the call.

but it’s of no use when it goes to voicemail—you were a bit too late.

when you manage to find your phone, you tap on the screen to see whose call you just missed.

‘hajime’

your fingertips hover on the contact name, debating between returning the call or wait for him to call you again. but a few notifications pop up at the top of the screen signaling you have three text messages from him.

hey, i guess you’re still asleep. don’t freak out when you wake up, you deserve the rest so it’s okay if you stay in bed. i left your breakfast on the nightstand and you can always call me if you need anything else.

and i thought you’d like to see this.

there’s a link attached at the end of the message.

you click on it and wait for the page to load, tapping your nails on the back of your phone anxiously. a headline in big bold letters takes over the screen and you have to stop yourself from squealing.

‘japan men’s volleyball team makes it past the first round.’

you start scrolling down the article, reading how spectacular the match was and how the entire team seemed to be in their best shape. you feel your face heat up when you read the argentinian team won their match too, with multiple comments praising oikawa’s performance.

with a smile on your lips, you go back to your messages to type a quick reply to iwaizumi. only to notice you have one more text from him.

it’s our turn to take care of you.

[lily-drake]

The Demon’s Queen

Chapter Eleven

First <> Previous

Marinette didn’t have a favorite trainer, she hated all of them.  But the one that she hated the least would have to be Hadid.  Don’t get her wrong, he was still as cruel and ruthless as the others here, but he was also far more patient and, for lack of a better word, kind than the others.  Though there was just something about his presence that always put her on edge.  She couldn’t quite place it, but when she walked into the room as saw Hadid just standing there, just his posture alone was enough to give her goosebumps.

“Find two weaknesses in your opponent.  Go after one, and when they think they know what weakness you are going for, strike the other.”

He had told her when she lay flat on her back, hand raised down to help her back onto her feet.  The contact was nice, it was a kindness she hadn’t felt in a long time, then it was gone, and she was flung across the mats.  

Gritting her teeth, she got back onto her feet, by herself, and got back into position.

“Your stance is good,”

Marinette smiled at that, she had been trying to get it right for weeks now.

“If you want to fall over and die a disgrace.”

The joy that was blooming in her chest died just as quickly as it came as she repositioned her footing.

She had finally been let outside for training only two days ago, and she nearly cried when she saw the sun for the first time in who knows how long.  It was cold, but she didn’t care, as the scent of the fresh mountain air filled her lungs instead of the stale musty air of the brick and mortar that lined the walls.  

Marinette hadn’t seen the boy in a little over a week, that is until he interrupted training that day, with his mother no less.  She honestly had no idea he had one, she would have thought that she was dead, and if he had killed her she wouldn’t have been too surprised.  But no, that was not the case and now his mother wanted her to have dinner with the two of them, she honestly wanted to die.

“Your defiance against your allies could lead to your demise.  Be careful of who you make your enemies.”

Was all Hadid said before she had the urge to duck and roll, and it was a good thing she had otherwise she probably would have been flat on her back as Hadid had moved to attack her.  There was an amused smirk on his face, but he didn’t say a word as he continued his swift movements of attack.

__________ Meals with the League were never anything special.  It often consisted of brown rice, beans, and sometimes there would be meat with a cup of water for nearly every single meal.  Damian often ate the same thing, never caring for other “grand dishes” that others of his station would indulge in.  But his mother was here, and Marinette would dine with them which meant that dinner tonight would be different.  There were many different curries, seasoned vegetable servings, a few different salad varieties and a few other smaller dishes that Damian had no care to think about.  His main concern was how this night was to play out, after all the only time his mother invited another to dine with them it was under special circumstances such as a new deal with many of their allies, a test of some sort, or to trick them to attending what will be the end of their lives.  There was always some sort of reason, a strategy, nothing was without a purpose.  So what was the purpose of this meeting, if he were to guess it would fall under the test category.

“Did you deliver the garbs Damian?”

His mother asked cooly as she approached him.

“Yes, I had a maid drop them off.”

Talia hummed, tracing a gentle finger down his face.

“You seem tired.  What has happened while I was away?”

Damian leaned into his mother’s rare gentle touch before it disappeared completely a few moments later.

“Father is searching for her.  I believed that my plan to remove her would work, but it seems that her mother did not believe it and called the Justice League.  My spies have reported that he has not found anything yet, but I know it is only a matter of time.”

Talia’s eyes seemed to spark to life at the mention of Father, even after all this time she still loved him deeply.  That or it was an obsession that he was unsure would ever leave her.

Before they could continue, the doors to the dining room opened to reveal Marinette in a dark form fitting dress that stretched all the way to her lower thigh that flowed gently around her legs.  The mandarin collar of the dress and the ¾ sleeves complimented her figure and would work in her favor if there was an attack from close range weaponry as he knew there were small pieces of micro technology sewn into the dress that would temporarily protect her.  If he remembered correctly, it should be made of material similar to her training garments.

Damian stared at her for a few moments, unsure of why the hairs on the back of his neck stood up on end when he made eye contact with her.  He approached her almost cautiously, though he knew he had the upper hand even if she had somehow managed to sneak in something.  Damian honestly had no idea what to say, he had never been in a situation like this before, but he had observed others who had.  So without another word he offered his hand for her to take, and was actually surprised when she took it.  From her behavior in the past he wouldn’t have been surprised if she had slapped it away.  She never looked at him though, so the probability she was only doing this because his mother was watching was pretty high.

Talia watched both the girl and her son.  It was obvious that Marinette was not happy with her predicament, it was obvious that she had a strong dislike for her son especially.  Her eyes flicked down to the girl’s left leg, she had watched some of her other sessions with the trainers Damian provided her.  In a match with Ruta they had been using sworded canes and Ruta had gotten the curve around Marinette’s leg and pulled.  Studying the girl she could see the slight limp, though she hid it well especially as she let Damian lead her to her seat at the long table, a seat on his left where Talia would be sitting at his right.

“Hello Marinette.  I wish to discuss the time you have spent here so far.  You will not be punished for anything you say, so you may speak as freely as you wish.”

Marinette raised a brow, though she appreciated that they had cut right to the chaise instead of starting with pleasantries.

“I hate it here and I want to go back home.”

Marinette stated firmly, her back straight and her eyes a hard determination.

Talia made a small humming noise, leaning onto her closed fist as she stared at the girl in front of her.

“Unfortunately for you, that is not a decision I am able to make,”

The only tells of disappointment on her face were a small twitch in her brow and a slight dimness in her eyes.  Silence filled the space for a few moments, though Talia and Damian seemed unaffected by it as they placed food onto their plates. 

“What is happening in Paris?”

Marinette asked, finally breaking the tense silence that had filled the room.  

“Yes, I was wondering when you would ask.”

Talia replied almost dismissively as she dabbed her lips with a napkin.

“Your city is perfectly fine.  I’ve read the reports and it seems that because your magical terrorist no longer exists, only petty crimes line Paris’s streets.  Your parents and friends do not seem to be worried for your safety, they believe that you are partaking in an exchange program.  Of course emails in your name are being sent to them, and since we have access to your voice and face, facetimes and phone calls are easy to manipulate.”

Her voice was casual, her face an impassive stone wall.  Marinette couldn’t tell if she was lying or telling the truth, but she was not inclined to believe this woman.    Marinette watched the woman until she too made direct eye contact with her,

“I can see that you don’t believe me, but it is the truth.  The League of Assassins do not do things halfway.  I have read through your file Marinette. I know why you are here, and I agree with it.  The League could use someone like you, you have great tenacity, you have the mind of a great tactician, and from your training I’ve witnessed I can see the potential.  I know that you do not wish to be here, but the League can make you into something more than you ever thought you could be.”

“What if I do not wish to be like you?  What if I wished to live a normal life when Hawkmoth was defeated?”

Talia didn’t laugh, but the amused smirk on her lips might as well have been her version of the sound.

“You are the Grand Guardian of many magical creatures, lived with magic as a part of your being since you first began your teenage years, and finally you have been parading around your city as a hero for that same amount of time.  You will never be able to live a normal life, others will find out who you are and they will take you for far more nefarious purposes.  Here we offer you training for proper protection, a chance to continue to use your skills, and you are given the opportunity to have power that few will ever be able to hold.  I can see the fire in your eyes, I can see that you crave the opportunity to constantly prove yourself, to better yourself.  Nowhere else can offer you this, but we are.  When we are certain that you are fit, you will be given the opportunity to travel the world, to protect and save others from the darkness that oozes from the darkness, you will be a leader that seeks no praise, but will receive anyways.  It is wholly up to you whether or not you will accept this offer, but in order to escape here, you will either have to grow or die.”

With that, Talia finally began to eat her dinner.  Once she began, Damian followed, after all it is rude to start before his superior.  Marinette bit her lip in frustration.  On one side Talia was right.  She was the Grand Guardian, she also knew that it would be hard to give up being a hero after so many years.  But she could do it, the magic prevented others from knowing her identity, but…magic didn’t solve everything and there were other more powerful magic users around.  Her city was apparently safe, her family and friends weren’t in danger anymore, and nearly all of the Miraculous were here, the others hiding in her room.  She would need to find a way to get those back sooner than later, but if everything she said was true, which she doubted, then the only problem was that she needed to retrieve the jewels.  

“Please eat Marinette, it would be best for you to keep your strength up.”

Damian quietly said, the first he had said to her all evening.  It wasn’t strange per se as he wasn’t very social, but it was still a little off as he probably would have asked her how her training was going despite already knowing from the meetings he had with her trainers.  Giving him a side eye, slowly she began to dish food onto her plate and eat with them.  She hated to admit it, but this was the best food she had eaten in a long time.  Talia’s words continued to echo through her mind, and though she loathed to admit it, parts of what she said were right.  She would never forgive Damian for dragging her into this against her will, but maybe, maybe she could do something good here if they let her.  Just maybe. 

Next

Taglist:

@sinoffalsejudgement @peachmuses @myazael @snnoww26 @dur55 @tip-tap-tired @ledalasombra @jennifer-rose123 @kylamai @plz-excuse-my-inner-gay @stella17luna @meduarts @toodaloo-kangaroo @valeks-star @crazylittlemunchkin @achaoticmess1 @queenz-z @doll246 @aespades @liquid-luck-00 @a-slytherinish-gryffindor @demigraceling-blog @kashlyn @castle-bookworms-world @a-classic-bookworm @wheredoesonegetnameideas @ascetic-orange @night-ngale @0anodite0 @strawberryfire17 @laurcad123 @firestorm0316 @aksartisticlife 

[someone1348]

Day 6! Let's gooo!!!

People in this: Ler!Sam, Lee!Tommy

Tw: Eye contact, if that makes you uncomfortable, other than that it's pretty soft

With all that being said I hope you all enjoy!!

-K :]

____________~☆°♡°☆°♡°☆~______________

Day 6- Eye Contact

It had been a couple of weeks now since Tommy had moved in with the creeper hybrid. In that time he had actually learned a lot from him!

Sam was a really good cook surprisingly! He learned a few of his recipes, he learned how to actually use the washer and dryer properly, he learned a bit of fighting styles too from the gaurd to keep him safe while Sam was at work and in general for if he ever did get into a fight!

It was a lot of fun, they talked about serious things, silly stuff and just all around it was a breath of fresh air for the blonde.

Today was going to be another one of their training days! It was going to be a lot of fun! And the hard part of waiting was almost over! Sam should be back any minute now!

Anyyyyy second now

Tommy tapped his foot impatiently

"Come on Sam! Where are you!"

He paced a bit as the seconds ticked by until he heard/saw the doorknob twist open

"SAM!!" Tommy ran over tackle hugging the creeper hybrid! Sam thankfully got his footing and hugged the excited blonde back

"Tommy!!!"

The two of them giggled before Tommy let go and let him inside the house. "How was work?" Eagar to spend time with Sam he initiated some small talk as they walked together through their now shared house

"It was good, the normal routine!"

"I get that"

"How was the house?"

"You know,,, it was housey! Pfft! Haha!"

Sam laughed with him before Tommy continued his speech;

"I was getting tired of waiting though! I hope you have enough energy Sam We're fighting today my friend! I hope you're ready!"

"Do you even have to ask that! I'm always ready for a fight! I'm a gaurd Tommy! That's my job!"

"Haha! Bring it on! You've got nothing on my Samuel"

"How Dare! You, I was gonna go easy on you Tommy but now you've forced my hand!"

"Haha! Good luck Sam! You're going down!"

"We'll see about that Toms~"

The two of them cleared an area in their living room to spar properly, pillows were placed on corners so no one gets hurt, there was a comfy mattress on the floor so if someone falls they land safely on the mattress.

It was an event that Tommy always looked forward too and took great pride in doing! It was a good bonding experience for them both and just genuinely meant alot to the kid!

"You ready Tommy?"

"Ready!"

Sam immediately charged at the blonde lifting him up with ease and throwing him over his shoulder

"Sahaham!!!" Tommy curled his hands up into fists and lightly hit Sam's back kicking his legs as Sam twirled him around before gently slamming him down on the comfy mattress, Sam sat on Tommy's thighs holding the blonde's arms over his head as the said blonde grumbled in defeat;

"Faster on your reflexs, if you see an opponent charging at you, dodge and run the minute you see it, when your brain clicks the image, dodge and run or dodge and counter"

Tommy nodded, wiggling "I understand, let me go and will try again"

"Hmmmm nah! I think we need to start on a new lesson tonight, we can work on your reflexs later if we have time, if not then we will tomorrow!"

"Sounds good, what's today's lesson big man?"

Same smiled before saying "eye contact"

"Eye contact?"

"Mhm! Eye contact can be one of the most important parts of a fight!"

"How so?"

"Well you don't want to lose your opponent so you always gotta keep your eyes on them, but eye contact, depending on how you do it it can make your opponent weaker it will give you a chance to strike, the opponent will be so focused on you making eye contact with them they won't know what's happening it's simple but super effective!"

"Really?! That's so cool!"

"Yeah!, eye contact can make even the strongest confess in an interrogation! And with enough eye contact your opponent might even fall to their knees and surrender right then and there!"

"This is so cool!"

"So today's lesson is the art of eye contact!"

"Okay!"

Tommy sat up, Sam still on his thighs

"You ready kiddo?"

"Ready!"

"Keep your eyes on me the whole time okay? You lose eye contact for even just a second and you lose"

"Understood!"

"Good! Time starts now"

Tommy Kept his eyes on him and it was going good for a bit, nothing was happening it was just one big staring contest. That was until halfway through when Tommy started to feel some light scribbling up and down the length of his sides

Tommy took in a sharp inhale, desperately trying to keep his eyes on Sam as the smirk on the creeper hybrids face grew with the situation

"Something wrong Tommy?~"

"N-no! Nothing is wrong!"

"Hmm okay, I'll take your word for it!" Sam's smirk continued to grow as he sped up his tickly fingers all along the blondes sides, going underneath his classic red and white tee shirt still keeping eye contact with him the entire time

"Sahaham!"

"What's up Tommy?"

Sam, acting like he wasn't tickling the crap out of Tommy, moved his tickly fingers up to his ribs. Tommy's eyes widened, he tried so hard to keep his eyes on his opponent but it was difficult when the said opponent knows his tickle spots!!

"Tommy, is something bothering you?"

"Noho-OHThing!"

"Hmmm" Sam titled his head as he nonchalantly crawled his fingers up and under Tommy's arms

"SAhaM PLHEASE-!"

Tommy broke eye contact, looking down as he contracted his body forward to protect himself. The tickles came to a hault before Sam spoke in a low, teasy tone

"Tommyyy~ you broke eye contact, you know what that means"

"Waitwaitwaitwait- SAM! AHAHA!" Tommy tried to protest but ended up falling back down on the mattress as Sam squeezed up and down his sides again

"IHihIT TihihiHICKLES!! SAHAHAM!"

"Kitchy Kitchy coo~ I'm gonna getcha Tommy!~"

"NOhohOt FAHahaiR!"

"This is plenty fair, I told you what would happen if you broke eye contact~ Tickle Tickle Tickleee Tommyy~"

Sam moved back up again to circle his tickly fingers under Tommy's arms

"HEHehEY! HAHaha!"

"You have the best laugh Tommy"

"I knoHohOw I DoHOHOAHAHA WAHAHAIHIHIT SAHAHAM!"

"Tickle Tickle Tommyyy~" Sam scribbled all over the blondes stomach as Tommy threw his head back in laughter

"Hmm maybe we should test your reflexs while we're here"

"NOHOHOHO NEHEHEHEED! I HAVE PEHEHERFCT REFLEXS!"

"A few minutes ago when I tackled you down says otherwise~ here just a quick check"

Sam smirked curling around Tommy's bellybutton

"Sam Sam! Wait! Wehehe! Can talk about thihihihis!"

"Absolutely, I need to question you if we are going to test your reflexs"

"Sam!"

"Say Tommy can you feel this!" The creeper hybrid giggled before wiggling a finger in his bellybutton

"YEHEHEHES! IHIHIHIHIT TIHIHICKLES SAM PLEAHAHASE!"

"Good good! Reflexs are working perfectly!, hmmm one last test, can you feel this?~"

Sam took a deep breath in blowing a huge raspberry onto the center of his stomach shaking his head so his hair tickles him too

"HEHEHE SAHAHAM MERCHEHEY!"

Sam stopped immediately rubbing away the ghost tickles smiling down at him with joy before getting off of him and helping Tommy up to his feet again.

"I think that's enough training for today, movie?"

"Yeah!!!!"

The two of them spent the rest of the evening relaxing and taking it easy as Tommy soon fell asleep, the air was cozy and it felt like home.

"Sleep well Tommy, you truly deserve it"

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

Ler!Sam woohoo! I love our boys so much! /p /gen

I hope you all enjoyedd! Take care of yourselves, Drink some water and enjoy your day my friends!

-K :]

[dandelion-sugar]

𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐖𝐢𝐟𝐞 『Adam x Reader』

Summary: Reader was Adam's first wife before he married Eve.

Warning: Angst, a little fluff, death, deities are really cruel

15,8k

Author's note: Requests for Genshin have not been forgotten! I'm working on it BUT I just finished season one of Record of Ragnarok and needed to write about Adam. I think he deserves more writing about him...he's the best husband and father Earth could have!

"A demoness? A succubus? No! A human whose legends turn her into a fearsome ruler of the underworld! She rules an entire army with an iron fist! Made of the clay of creation, she is made in the image of the gods! N°00000000002 : Lilith!" shouted Heimdall to announce your entrance.

You have been chosen to save humanity. The creation of Adam and Eve. You don't know why Brunhilde trusts you to save the humans. What could she possibly have been thinking in choosing you? Were you the best choice for this? Protecting the beings conceived by your ex-husband and his new wife. Unlike your ex-lover, you refuse to walk around naked. Your body is far too precious to be revealed to the world. You stand in the middle of the arena waiting patiently for Heimdall to finish presenting your opponent.

Your eyes rest on your army led by your only son. The only being you have ever given birth to. The third human born. A slight smile appeared on your lips. Your son resembled his father, and you found that particularly funny. You couldn't help but think that Adam's genes were particularly strong. But the way your son stood proudly at the head of your army...he took that from you. Even if you were to perish in this fight, you know that your army and your son will come through.

Your right hand will be around the shaft of your spear. You hear the mocking laughter of the gods, announcing your crushing defeat. You hear the hesitant whispers of humans about your place among the fighters of humanity. You are known in human legends to be a danger to pregnant women and newborns. To be honest with yourself, you hate this legends. You are a mother, how can humans think that you would harm a woman and her child? Your eyes drop slightly to the floor and your lips pucker into an unpleasant pout. After a few seconds, your face frees itself of all displays of emotion and your hand rises to challenge Heimdall.

"Yes, Lilith?" asks the god who has the role of announcer.

"I will not fight under that name," you announce.

"Huh?" he blurts out in surprise.

"I will not fight under the name of the monster the humans wanted to make me," you reply immediately.

"So...what do you want to be called?"

Lying in a meadow, you enjoy the sun and the soft breeze on your bare skin. Rabbits and foxes quickly surround you to enjoy the comfort with you. Everything is perfect in the Garden of Eden. A shadow covers your face, forcing you to open your eyes to discover the obstacle between you and the sun. It is a pleasant surprise when you discover your husband's welcoming smile, his blonde locks framing his face. Adam sits down beside you, placing his fruit basket between his legs. He pulls out a bunch of grapes and takes one between his long fingers. He then brings the fruit to your lips to let you savour the sweet, pleasant taste of the fruit. A sigh of contentment crosses your lips. Your husband's smile widens as he notices your relaxed state.

"You have grape juice running down your chin, Lilith," Adam informs you.

Your eyelids droop slightly as your eyes express your displeasure. Adam only lets a laugh emit from his throat as he leans forward to lick the grape juice off. Your hand gently but firmly pushes him away. You want him to understand that his gestures of affection will not be tolerated again until he realises his mistake. And you know perfectly well that he has understood what he has done.

"Stop teasing me," you say, a frown appearing on your face.

"I like to see your eyebrows furrow. You look like that kitten that was trying to scare us." replies Adam, running his hand over your hip stroking it in lazy circles, as if to soothe you.

"But unlike that kitten, I can bite," you reply sharply.

"I know you can..." he hums in the hollow of your ear. "Y/N."

This memory was a moment of pure happiness that you experienced in the Garden of Eden before you were forced into exile. This name you chose with Adam was the beginning of your independence from the gods. You had never accepted the principle of being subject to a man and Adam always supported you in this choice. But the gods did not like this and in response you abandoned the name they gave you at your creation. Perhaps this is why Eve was created from Adam's rib? To prevent her from becoming like you.

"Y/N. Call me that," you proudly announce.

The gods of your creation frown but do not protest. They hope that you will perish against one of their own and that your soul will disintegrate in space and time.

Adam had slipped out of the room where he was locked up. When he learned of your presence here, he did not expect you to fight for the humans. The children he had with another woman. He snuck into the bleachers to get a better look at your figure. A sense of nostalgia stirs in his heart as he sees that you haven't changed in all this time. You stand with dignity, your weapon in hand. You are strong and independent, you have become the woman you always dreamed of. A woman you could not have become if you were in his company because...everyone wants his wife to be submissive to him.

Adam does not regret his married life with Eve, he enjoys it too. But he has enjoyed the life he has lived with you. He believes in your victory. He wants you to win. He does not want to witness your complete disappearance from the universe without any chance of reincarnation. Your first separation has already split his heart in two, Adam does not want to experience this intense pain a second time.

You swing your divine spear with one hand, deflecting your opponent's first blow. The strength in this attack was not worthy of a god, was he testing your abilities? Your eyes meet. The victorious and arrogant smile on the god's face already irritates you. He underestimated you because you are a human AND a woman. His leg comes to sweep over yours but you manage to dodge by gaining height. You position your spear, blade towards the ground to pierce his skull. The god quickly dodges in a backward leap, leaving you to land on the ground, puncturing the concrete floor which cracks under the impact.

Your exchange of blows lasts for a while. Or should we say: the god throws blows at you that you deflect with your spear. But suddenly, his paterne changes. The force that the god uses becomes more powerful. His leg comes to meet your stomach. You prevent the blow from reaching your skin by placing your spear between your stomach and his leg. Unfortunately, the attack sends you flying a few metres away. You manage to land with difficulty and before you can regain a stable footing, the god launches himself at you. You are forced to fall to the side in a roll to narrowly dodge the punch. Your cheek begins to bleed.

"Mother!" your distraught son shouts.

"Commander! Get up!" your soldiers shout to encourage you.

You let out a breath, your muscles relax, making your movements more fluid and lively. Your eyes fall on the figure of your opponent. The aura around you changes completely, causing the small smile on the god's face to disappear. Your hands grip the spear and your feet anchor themselves to the ground to give you a good foothold.

"Answer my question before we resume this fight. Why are you fighting for the humans?" the god asks.

"Do I need a reason to fight? The gods have forced me to be submissive and men have clothed me in a veil of monstrous lies. It's like choosing between the plague and cholera," you explain. "But I had to choose and I chose my ex-husband's children.

The humans observing the exchange begin to stir, either out of guilt or because they were moved by your story. Humans get teary-eyed easily, you think. But you can't help but find this side of them very touching. Perhaps it was a good thing that Eve was the Mother of humanity?

"Humans have the will to survive and a strength that allows them to constantly evolve. This is a strength that the gods can never possess," you say with contempt.

Your hatred for the gods is much stronger than your hatred for humans. On your words, the fight resumes. You manage to follow your opponent's movements. Like Adam, you were forged from clay in the image of the gods. You are Adam's equal, you have the same ability as him to copy the techniques you see. Your movements remind the gods of Athena. You had copied the movements of this goddess a long time ago.

Your body and that of your opponent are covered in blood. You are bleeding from the wounds inflicted on you, but you were able to avenge yourself by seriously injuring your opponent as well.

Adam clenches his lips into a thin line, his fingernails digging into the palms of his hands but he still believes in your victory. You must win. You can't give him up a second time...you can't.

"They've created a second wife for you," you scream indignantly.

"You're the only one for me," Adam admits in an attempt to calm your nerves. He can't bear to see you cry.

"It's only a matter of time before the gods kick me out of the Garden of Eden! I don't understand their desire to have me submit to male authority! Do goddesses submit to male deities?" you growl in frustration. The anger was so strong that you can't hold back the tears.

"If they chase you away then I'll go with you," Adam announces, interlacing your fingers together.

A soft warmth spreads through your chest as a gasp of surprise passes through your lips. A slight blush marks your cheeks as you look away from your husband. You can't help but enjoy the tender feeling. Adam wraps his muscular arms around you in a soothing embrace. His scent calms your restless nerves.

"Spend the night with me tonight," you whisper.

"We always sleep together," he says, tilting his head to the side, not understanding the meaning of your words.

"Adam..." you gasp shyly. It almost sounded like a soft moan.

His blue eyes widen slightly as the implied request is processed by his brain. A teasing smile spreads across his face as he leans in to your blushing ear to whisper provocative words.

That was the last evening you spent in his company before the gods kidnapped you and threw you away from the Garden of Eden. You never tried to return to that place, you knew it wasn't possible. So you did your best to survive. You were able to thrive and enjoy your newfound independence.

That night Adam gave you a gift, your son: Eurynome. A child identical to his father, who grew up with you as his only role model. He has become an independent young man capable of leading an army. But he remains a child... a child afraid to be alone without the reassuring presence of his mother.

It is impossible to understand the pain of losing a parent when you have not experienced it. No one could understand a tenth of the pain of Eurynome's scream as the god's fist plunges into your chest.

Your eyes crinkle under the sudden fatigue your body feels. Your right hand struggles to hold the spear. The humans weep in despair as the gods celebrate the downfall of Lilith, the woman who did not obey divine orders.

Nausea takes hold of Adam's body. All that blood, your blood spilling on the floor. Will you die? Disappear forever...you don't even know that he witnessed your fight. You will never know that he missed you terribly. You will never know that he wanted to feel your warmth in his arms again and whisper those three words to you.

Your eyes linger on your son's tear-streaked face. A peaceful smile appears on your lips. A fire of determination shines in your eyes. Your hand tightens around the spear and you slice the god's jugular before collapsing to your knees. If you must die...then you will prevent the gods from achieving a victory as well.

Your eyes slowly close and your hearing becomes increasingly blurred. The voices are now just an indistinguishable din.

Adam could only watch as your body and the god's dematerialize into a smoke of green glitter. His legs move towards the battlefield as if trying to retrieve the flakes that represent your soul dissolving into space. But your son's crying snaps him out of his trance. His eyes fall on a miniature version of himself.

Cain and Abel have some characteristics of their father but Eurynome is a carbon copy of Adam and you would have to be blind not to notice. Adam walks over to your son and takes him in his arms, sharing his pain. Adam fully understands the tug of war that Eurynome feels.

That night Adam gave you a gift, your son. Today, this gift will show the world that you existed. That you are not like your legends.

You are an independent woman, a mother and Adam's wife.

"Adam," you call to your husband, who is perched on a tree branch.

"Yes?" he hums, keeping his eyes closed.

"Don't you think I'm strange?" you finally question him. "Do you think I owe you obedience too?

Silence passes between the two of you. A pain assails your heart at this lack of response and you instantly regret having asked him the question. The disappointment was much stronger than you had thought. You look up abruptly when you hear a thud only a few feet away. Adam had just jumped from his branch. His back was to you. He turns towards you, his face devoid of emotion. He encircles your cheeks with his warm palms. His piercing blue eyes almost seem to probe your soul and you struggle to hold his gaze. But your desire to know the answer prevents you from looking away.

"We are husband and wife, I accept you as you are. Don't change for the world, for anyone," Adam says with conviction.

"So...you love me like this?" you ask aloud, wanting to sound confident.

Adam looks at you slightly surprised at this sudden question. He hums softly before leaning in to kiss your forehead. The smile he flashes makes your heart race.

"I love you," he says.

"I love you too..." you admit after a few moments.

[wri0thesley]

it’s my blog and i get to write the self indulgent nanami scenarios <3

business before pleasure; nanami x fem reader, not sfw - guilty pining/masturbation (2.25k)

nanami’s brain always seems to be wired differently when you’re around.

It’s not that Nanami turns his brain off when he’s working. His line of work means staying sharp, of predicting the moves of any opponents before they can make them – either you do that, or you risk dying where you stand. Much the one he wields with his fist clenched and his eyes narrowed, his mind is a finely honed blade.

No. His brain doesn’t turn off. It just . . . grows used to a certain kind of pattern, he supposes. It works out his ratios, it helps him strike, it makes both ordinary plans and contingency plans in the blink of an eye; and it does it all as if automated. It works on known variables. He knows a curse will attack, he knows he will have to harness his technique, he knows that he will have to arc his arm and slice--

You are not programmed into his method.

He has his work brain, and his respite brain – his leisure time brain, if you will. He does not mix the two. He watched others at his office get tangled with one another, and saw how it would leak through into their work – how, when things inevitably came to a messy conclusion, the people involved seem to wilt into pieces and lose their resolve. They got messy.

Jujutsu sorcery is already messy enough, he thinks. He does not need to tempt fate.

So he sticks to the rules he made for himself. He does not mix business with pleasure. He does not allow a conflict of interest. He does not date colleagues. The latter was occasionally directed, not unkindly, at people in the office who would notice his sharp cheekbones and the lines of muscle underneath his well-pressed suit. They would approach him hopefully, asking if he would like to get lunch together, or asking about new restaurants having heard he was something of a connoisseur in that regard - and he would let them down gently.

Until you came onto the scene, he had never even thought about it in regards to jujutsu sorcery. The pool was too small for it to ever seem even an option to be ignored.

But then . . .there you were. Occasionally paired up with him because the higher-ups were considering promoting you to the next grade, always with a smile for him and a polite greeting.

That would be fine. He can handle working with other people; he’s a professional, after all.

What he can’t handle is the rest of you.

The way you look at him. Your ability to shift, in moments, from dangerous to dutiful. The way you remember little things he says, how you do things just because you can. Little kindnesses like remembering his favourite bakery and picking something up for him as well as for you. A gentle nature when there are civilians too close to where you need to be and you urge them to go somewhere else.

Most jujutsu sorcerers, he has found, have something about them that is simply too much. Whether they enjoy violence too much, or they do not think of other people, or they are Gojo Satoru – who is too much of more things than Nanami can count – he has never wanted to mix with them outside of work.

But you . . .

It’s not enough that you are sweet-natured, that you are kind, that you are hard-working and good at your job - that you are clever and hold up your end of conversations, when Nanami has time to snatch them with you. But his eyes cannot help but be drawn to the curve of your body underneath your clothes, the set of your mouth, the colour of your eyes. He cannot help but think of you sun-dappled in a morning, lazy-eyed and tired in an evening.

He cannot help but think of you beneath those fabrics, bared to his hungry gaze.

And – especially nights like tonight, when he has worked late, when you have barely bid him goodbye – he cannot always stop himself.

He shouldn’t.

He is enough in control of himself to feel like it’s a gross disservice to you, to reduce you to nothing more than fantasy fodder in his brain. But as he sits on his bed and loosens his tie, sighing, he cannot shake the feel of your body against him when he’d pushed you out of the way of a curse’s attack. Nor can he make the scent of your shampoo and conditioner leave his thoughts, the little gasp of surprise when you’d felt him make contact with your body.

He wonders if you would make similar noises, if he were to unbutton your clothes. If he were to press his nose against the junction of your shoulder and throat and breathe in the scent of you.

His slacks are getting uncomfortable. He takes off his glasses, tilting his head back, his sigh chest-deep.

He loves the way you say his name. Perhaps he has gotten too used to being called cute names by other people, that basic manners have become attractive to him – but your voice, softly caressing the syllables, always just a little hesitant as if you don’t want to bother him too much . . . Would you call him something else, if he kissed you? He doesn’t know if he’d mind you calling him Nanamin, if it were soft against his ear when his hands touched bare skin and he pulled you in closer.

He swallows as he folds his tie neatly. He shouldn’t be thinking about you like this. He shouldn’t be imagining skin beneath his fingertips and shuddering breaths. He shouldn’t imagine that it’s your hands, unbuttoning his shirt. He can see you in his mind’s eye nevertheless, lip caught between your teeth, brow furrowed in concentration. Hands soft against him, meticulous and careful--

His shirt is shed. He doesn’t bother to neatly fold it, to place in his laundry basket, though he’ll regret not doing it tomorrow. His mind is racing. He’s far too busy thinking about whether you would straddle him to kiss him, imagining your warm weight on top of him.

No. That’s a pleasant fantasy, he thinks, but for the first time he thinks he would like to be in charge of you. Sit you down on your knees and tip your chin up as he undoes the button and zipper of his slacks.

He palms himself through his underwear to the thought of your pretty eyes widening when you saw what was between his thighs. He’s not, as a whole, a conceited man – but no partners have ever complained before, and he doesn’t think you would be any different.

He imagines the soft gasp of his name, your tongue darting out to wet your lips as you inched forward, shyly. He imagines how hot your cheeks would be underneath his fingertips if he caressed them, holding you tenderly. Telling you he knows you will do a good job.

It’s well-known that Nanami does not give out praise easily or often. Once, after an exorcism, he had thrown out some compliment to you – time muddies the thought of what you’ve done, but it doesn’t muddy your reaction, seared onto his brain. The widening of your eyes and the swallow, the brief stammer as you’d thanked him. It had haunted him for nights, imagining what you might do if he patted your cheek and told you how well you were doing.

He lets himself imagine it now.

One of his hands fists into the bedsheets behind him whilst the other encircles his shaft, a shaky breath escaping his parted lips as he imagines your mouth opening, your tongue darting out to taste him. His throat feels too dry as he imagines how warm and wet you would feel, how cute you would look as you gently eased your mouth further and further onto his cock.

He imagines petting your hair and growling low in his throat how good you feel, how it would send a spark of bravery through you – how you’d take more of him into your mouth, too full, swallowing down as much of his cock as you could. He would perhaps be more liberal with his praise, for you.

He has been doing this too often. You have no idea, when you smile and greet him and say you’re glad to be working with him again, that he’s spent so many nights with his fist pumping his cock imagining your voice pitching and breaking. That’s all it is, he tells himself, sternly. Fantasy.

Fantasies that he can’t stop himself from having. He groans as he relaxes back onto the bed, thumb swiping across the slit of his cock where he’s already beading pre-come. He imagines you pulling back from his cock, shifting uncomfortably where you’re knelt on the floor--

He throws one arm over his eyes, his breathing getting heavier and heavier with every beat of his heart and filthy thought that crosses his mind. Where would he want you, next? He thinks you would easily let yourself be overpowered, beneath all six foot of him.

There. Underneath him. He can almost feel the softness of your body pressing against where he is carefully maintained muscle. Can imagine your soft fingertips trailing over his skin, your lips leaving heated little kisses-come-pleas against his body.

His hand is getting faster.

Though common sense tells him that you are probably not a virgin, in Nanami’s mind, you always are. You’re always unsure, trembling – surprised by how good his hands feel all over you. Eyes rolling back when he lets his tongue lathe over the swollen points of your nipples, heart jumping when one of his big hands delves between your thighs to the slick valley of your sex.

In his mind, you always cling to him. You always make soft panting noises, whimpering, as he works you open with his fingers – you’re always aching hot, so tight around him that he thinks for a moment you might break. He imagines your fingers raking through his hair, dishevelling the careful styling. He thinks about you whispering his name like a prayer, over and over again, keening and pitching and breaking.

He is all over heat, helplessly bucking up even as he fucks into his hand and imagines it’s the warm, soft confines of your sex. He’s groaning, breath catching in his throat. He imagines you, hot and tight and wet – your legs clamping about his hips, your thighs in his hand. Your body rocking against his.

He imagines ‘please, please, please--’ in your voice, all breathy pleading and begging. He imagines you blinking up at him with your eyes all dark and needy – your godforsaken eyes, when so many other jujutsu sorcerers keep them covered--

If you didn’t look at him like that, maybe he wouldn’t be rutting into his own hand like a teenager. Maybe they wouldn’t haunt him, imagining what they’d look like when he was hilted deep inside you, or when they were looking up at him from his parted knees, or when he made you come with just his fingers--

The slick noise of his hand jerking erratically backwards and forwards on his cock seems to echo around the room, intermingling with his own heavy breathing. He wonders, sometimes, if you ever imagine him like this – rumpled and messy. If you did, maybe he’d feel better about how he just can’t stop objectifying you in his mind.

He knows you don’t, though. You’re professional and careful and unfailingly polite. And he does not think himself someone who is fantasised about.

The tight thread of tension within him seems to snap and he groans your name aloud, releasing it like a charm into the sacrosanctity of his bedroom. A white-hot bolt of pleasure followed by duller jolts and pulses, as he comes over his stomach to the thought of your face all needy and pretty and fucked out.

That image flutters in his mind longer than it has any right to. He misses when he could do this just to work out tension, without having your smile and your body and how you would react floating to the forefront of his mind. If you ever knew--

Those familiar pinpricks of shame begin to needle all over him, as his come cools and uncomfortable stickiness takes the place of heated desire. Nanami heaves a sigh as he reaches into his bedside table for a tissue to clean up.

No mixing of business and pleasure, he reminds himself. A recipe for disaster. He has to stop doing this.

But the next morning, he meets you outside of the location you’ve been called to and you press a steaming hot coffee into his hand.

“It’s cold,” you say. “I got myself one, and thought I should get you one too.”

He swallows before thanking you as you give him an earnest, hopeful smile. He knows that later on, he’ll recall that smile – imagine it before he imagines you kissing him, or before he imagines you enveloping his cock in your mouth or before he imagines you asking him to fuck you so hard you forget who you are.

Who is he kidding? He’s not going to stop doing it. Not when everything about you calls to him like a fucking siren call. He takes a sip of his coffee and tries to pretend that everything’s fine.

[peakyblindersxx]

whiskey business - john shelby x reader (part 6 of ?)

gif by my queen @michaelgreys, i'm basically her fanblog now but im not mad about it :) i mean just look at him!!1! i almost fainted

a/n: first of all, if you stuck around to this point, tysm for reading!!! this has been one of the most amazing fics ive ever been a part of and it's all thanks to the gorgeous @stxdyblr-2k, who generously took control of the next few parts. her brain is beautiful and we all owe her flowers or something. when i read what she sent me i couldn't bring myself to change much except for some small edits, so pls give her lots of love if you like it!!!! i'm still working on requests as well :)

love, abi xxx

read part one two three four five | my masterlist

tagging: @datewithgianni, @mayaslifeinabox, @deepdonutkid, @springsoulofengland, @lilymurphy03

prompt: nothing this good can last forever. john doesn't know how to feel, and neither do you.

warnings: nsfw! a teensy bit of smut, angsty as fuck prepare yourselves accordingly, a lil fluff if u squint, yeah this fucked me up

Obviously, it wasn't the last time.

Over the coming months you had many last times; his mouth pressed against your neck said as much. As his responsibility at work increased, you'd find yourself heading to his office after your lectures and night classes more often, perched on his lap, smoking, while he finished up his numbers under your critical gaze.

Thomas was more than aware; his snarky comments made it obvious he had his ways of monitoring your actions. You'd seen the dark car lurking outside your rallies and lectures, and no matter how you'd try to throw him off, not even telling Ada where you were going and even, in a moment of desperation, through your neighbours back window, somehow, his silent shadow was still looming. He was practically begging you to make a mistake, to give everyone an easy out. You just couldn't give him the satisfaction. You knew Tommy saw the world as a chess board, always several moves ahead of his opponent. Even when you played him in chess club all those years ago, you could outflank him if you thought on your feet and kept him thinking he was winning until you obliterated him in the end game. It was brutal, sure. But as he told you, there were bigger games at play. You had your own. Thomas could read your mail, intercept your phone calls and have you followed, but he couldn't hear what you said out of earshot. Your lot could smell an interceptor in your ranks, so spying at that close of a proximity was out of the question.

That's why he'd decided to let you have John. You knew his silent approval and his constant management of the narrative meant he saw a tactical gain. There was only so much information he could get from Ada, but John? He just had to agitate him in the right way and all your secrets would come tumbling out. It was difficult hiding your world from John; of what he knew of, he was supportive, quizzing you over current affairs and political discourse, listening intently. Yet, you had to watch your mouth. You had to keep a barrier up and you knew John sensed the distance. Fundamentally, there was nothing either of you could do.

So here you were, in a comfortable limbo. Your days were filled with work, evenings were for lectures and reading groups at the city's university, Ada and you often stopped for a drink or three; you'd go by your flat to freshen up, and then to John's office. Sometimes, you wouldn't visit for a week or so when the guilt sent you over the edge, it was draining to be living so many lives and knowing you were betraying the person you loved most on earth. Ada was oblivious, taking you on her nightly adventures filled with men, dancing and waiting while she was busy kissing in dark corners. Sometimes a young blinder would ask if you wanted to be walked home. The first occurrence you thought was sweet, but as the nights it occurred coincided with nights John seemed extra pent up, you'd decided to ask. The boy, who couldn't be older than twelve but who you knew was trained in using firearms and had a revolver pinned to his hip and a razor in his cap, looked confused.

"Mate, it's not a tough question. Why do you come and ask?"

"There's a phone call." He shrugs, "Isaiah or Michael tells us to go and get you."

Isaiah and Michael were somewhat aware? Fucking hell. Your fling was basically a military campaign at this point, so many of your friends were complicit. The little lads who ran as messengers around Birmingham were complicit. You had to just end it.

But when you sat on his thigh, his chin hooked over your shoulder, it felt so worth it. He never turned you away when you came crawling back. He never mentioned it until after you were finished, hooked under his arm.

"Fucking missed you, gorgeous."

Sometimes he'd remind you not to be a stranger with a wink, but you could tell it was tearing him apart too. He never once came to you. That's how he could justify it in his mind; obviously, the bare minimum was not having sex with his sister's best friend, but in failing that, waiting for you to initiate it was somewhat better. He barely talked to Ada now, citing work as an excuse, but truly the guilt sickened him. He couldn't believe he was prepared to continuously hurt his little sister and betray her. But every time you turned up at his door, he couldn't find it in himself to turn you away. In his mind, every single time you came to visit him was the last time he'd let it happen, yet he was always waiting for you to come back, his blind closed to signal he was prepared. He never would call, it had to be your choice.

You'd been off and on for over five months now. It was so difficult to hide in plain sight, but you just couldn't stop yourself. Neither of you purposefully meant for this to be happen but fuck, was it fun.

For your birthday he'd gifted you a fur coat from the same shop his sister, aunt and the fashionable crowd of Birmingham had purchased theirs. He joked that you looked like a "proper razor chaser", kissing you when you pouted at his teasing, begging you to wear only the coat when you fucked him next. It was a practice for blinders to buy a coat for their wives and girlfriends as a status symbol. You were neither, but John claimed that being his "favourite lass" also counted.

John was a laugh, but you knew at any time he could close his door to you. Until he decided he couldn't be bothered with you, you weren't going to get caught. You just had to be careful until he got bored.

***

You did end up putting a foot wrong. It was a Thursday night; you were sitting on the edge of John's desk while he was ridding you of your blouse. It was past midnight, Birmingham was asleep. You almost didn't bother coming out tonight, but you knew John had lost a deal and you wanted to be there for him. Your skirt and stockings were strewn across the desk with his shirt, vest and waistcoat, muddled into the files and papers which were once neatly stacked.

His fingers were pumping in and out of you, his mouth lapping at your breast, your head tipped back in euphoria, groaning. The stress made him more affectionate and tender with you, and it was nights like these that made you wonder. Wonder if this could ever be something more, something real.

John's body suddenly pulled away from yours, quickly turning the light off.

"John, what-" You were cut off by John’s hand over your mouth, muffling your words.

"Shut up and get behind the desk." He hissed. "Someone's coming upstairs."

You quickly grabbed your clothes from the shiny oak surface and crouched, hiding yourself from view, quickly making yourself decent. You weren't going to get shot through the head with your tits out. You listened to the stairs creek, and it sounded like a group. You two were easily outnumbered. They were talking, but the thick panels of wood muffled their voices.

As your eyes adjusted to the darkness, the cracks in the door giving the room a dulled glow, you could make out the figure of John. He was free of his shirt, toned body on display, standing with his back flat to the wall, revolver produced from a discreet notch in the door frame, gaze fixed on where they'd enter. He was tense, ready. The door was unlocked from the outside, the door handle twisting.

John's lip shifted in confusion yet still he kept his trigger finger ready, not a single shake from your general.

The light flicked on and a shriek rang out. It was blinding, and you stood up slightly dazed. Finn was in the doorway, John next to him clutching his chest, panting and lowering the gun.

"Jesus Christ, Finn, can't you knock like a normal person? Scared the shit out of us." John bellowed, shaking as the adrenaline coursed through his body, resting his hands on the edge of the desk as he regained his breath.

"You're the one who pointed a gun at me! I didn't even know you were in 'ere!" Finn yelped.

The commotion had attracted the attention of Ada and Isaiah, who had come running and stopped in their tracks upon seeing you standing behind John's desk in the middle of the night. They weren't stupid. John was topless, your clothes obviously rumpled, both with matching tousled hair and practically stinking of guilt. You'd been caught red handed. Ada's eyes flicked between both you and John, and you could practically see the pieces of the puzzle clicking together in her mind, all the moments she found questionable since you'd returned suddenly making sense, realising she had been deceived by the two people who she was meant to trust most in life. Finn looked absolutely crushed, he'd never been able to conceal his emotions as well as his older brothers and sister, linking his fingers through Ada's, squeezing her hand.

"I forgot to drop this off earlier." Finn stated, holding up a money box, "Ada had keys so we thought we'd sneak in so I wouldn't get done by Tommy. We did call round yours, Y/N. We thought you were in bed."

"I'm sorry." You said. It was not enough but you just didn't know what else to say. You couldn't make it right, you'd really fucked up this time. Tears pricked at your eyes, as Ada examined you in silence.

John stepped in front of you defensively. "Look, Ada-"

"How long has this been going on?" She asked, her voice shaking with rage. You and John exchanged a glance. "I said, how fucking long?"

"Five months, six in a fortnight." He answered.

Isaiah whistled lowly. "That's fucked. I thought it was only a few times, that it'd finished."

"Never really over when it's John is it." Finn interjects, you glance to him, were you just one in a long string? You shouldn't be surprised but it was easy to pretend he may actually care about you.

"You've been fucking around for six months behind my back?" Ada yelped, Finn trying to comfort her but she pulled away from him. "And you fucking knew Iz."

"I'd expect this from you, yeah? Wouldn't put anything past you these days.." she sneered at John, "But you? You?! You're meant to be my best mate, but here you are sneaking about fucking my brother?"

"Ada-" you began, eyes welling with tears.

"I thought I could trust you. You're just another fucking razor chaser, aren't you?" She spits. "That's why you came back."

"No it wasn't, Ada-"

Her eyes flashed with anger, but this time John was on the receiving end. "You bought her that fucking coat ,didn't you? The fur one. You did! Fuck's sake!" Her fists were clenched, shoulders squared. For the first time in your life, you understood why crowds parted for Ada Shelby. Understood all the free drinks and cab rides, the nervous serving staff declaring your meal on the house (always acknowledged by Ada with a hefty tip), understood why the men of Birmingham didn't last long with her.

"Did it feel good to swan about town in that fucking coat, while acting as though you cared about me? It's so fucking embarrassing. All trussed up because my knobhead big brother makes you feel special? Thanks for rubbing it in my face."

"Ada, I love you. I never meant to hurt you, I got caught up and that's on me. It's my fault."

"You're not acting like you love me. This isn’t what love is, Y/N." She retorted.

You couldn’t do anything but nod. She was right.

John opened his mouth to speak, Ada silencing him, a scowl darkening her features.

"I don't care what you have to say. Any of you. Who else knows?"

"Thomas, Michael, Arthur-" John listed off slowly, each name prompting Ada to break down a little bit more in front of you.

"I didn't know Arthur knew." You said pointedly, John sending you an exasperated glance. He was planning on dealing with that later, but right now was about his sister. Fuck him if he thought you were going to stick around much longer. You didn't want to hear him justify everyone else knowing about your fling with your best friend being left completely in the dark.

"That all you have to say for yourself?" Ada snaps at you.

"I have fucking no defense, do I Ada? I should've walked away." You pushed your hair back, frustrated at yourself, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. You begged yourself not to cry. Tears wouldn't help anything.

"Why didn't you?"

You didn't know. Your silence only riled her up.

"Why didn't you fucking walk away?" Ada yelled, slamming her hands on the desk.

You felt hot tears run down your face, quickly moving your hands to dab at your tears.

"Don't you dare fucking cry. After all you've done, you don't get to cry in front of me." Ada growled at you, John going to shush her, obviously wanting to comfort you. "You can all fuck off. You've all lied to me and gone behind my back. Fuck’s sake, you could've just told me. You could've just told me."

"We didn't want to hurt you." John said, reaching out to squeeze her shoulder but she flinches away.

"This hurts so much more. You get that you all lying to me is so much worse, don't you?"

"We weren't thinking."

"You really fucking weren't." Ada laughs bitterly, shaking her head, blinking away tears. "Fuck you lot."

She stormed out, tailed by Finn, begging her to slow down and talk to him, protesting his innocence in the situation. Isaiah hesitated in the doorway, his eyes flickering between you and John.

"I had no idea you two've been at it for so long."

"Iz, fuck off yeah? I've had enough today." John shot back, sliding across the desk towards you. "You alright, lass?"

"We're done here, John."

He slid off the table, his hand cupping your face, "Hey, gorgeous, I get it but don't go breaking my heart tonight. Can we just leave this for tomorrow? Sleep on it."

The idea of getting any sleep at all tonight was laughable, you'd be up all night replaying these moments and torturing yourself. Tonight couldn't get any worse so you had to finally end it. Now was the right time.

"John, it should've never happened."

"But it did."

"I don't want to talk about this anymore. It's over."

"Y/N. You know for me it was never just about-"

"You're making it difficult. Stop making it difficult. Whatever you say isn't going to change that right now we have to do the right thing."

"I know you're right, but I don't want to let go. Is it so wrong to want you? I adore you, you know that."

You wouldn't meet his eyes. Sighing, John pressed his forehead to the side of your head, chin brushing your shoulder, eyes closing. He was begging you to stay with him. There had to be a solution, you'd figure it out together. His voice was cracking, eyes glassy. He looked so much younger when he was pleading. The tall bloke who terrorised the Midlands with his razor rimmed cap, a revolver in his hand, and a ruthless trigger finger had vanished. You wanted to stay, burning to curl up with him and for him to kiss it better.

"I should go." You told him. He rested his forehead on your shoulder, letting out a shaky sigh before pulling away, nodding.

"I'd drive you home but obviously-"

"Obviously."

John suddenly turned from you, eyes narrowing at Isaiah who was still hovering at the door. "Thought I told you to fuck off. Make yourself useful and get Y/N home safely." His tone was ice cold once again.

Isaiah nodded, offering his arm to you. You reached the door and instinctively looked back at John. His eyes met yours, staring at you from his desk, just as you knew he would. He prepared himself to watch you leave every night, but this time was different. That was it with you two.

Isaiah strode down the street with you in silence. You were tucked into his side as was customary with the upcoming blinders who were particularly ambitious, but there was no relaxed chat.

"Isaiah. What’re you thinking?" You asked, voice tinged with nervousness.

He sighed, running his free hand across his jaw, "That was intense in there."

"Just how he is." You shrugged.

"Does he love you or sommet?"

"Fuck knows… does it matter?"

"Of course it does. Do you love him?"

"Drop it. None of that matters, it shouldn't have happened in the first place so it can’t," You snapped, the anger at the situation you'd created suddenly overwhelming.

Isaiah whistled, raising his brow at your obvious turmoil. "You're in fucking deeper than you want to admit."

He walked you up your path, watching you turn the key to the side door leading to your bedsit. You paused, turning to him.

"Iz… I don't know what to do next."

It was so dark, you could see his face only by the lit cigarette burning to embers between his fingers. He inhaled deeply, pausing before delivering his carefully laid out plan of avoidance. Obviously the event of him crossing the Shelbys and losing their good graces weighed heavily on his mind. You nodded, listening intently, noting his ideas of relocation but he explained they were a final resort. The best thing to do was try to regain their trust; in the long run, he had calculated, it was the only option that didn't result in your life being haunted by the Shelbys. Even if they left you alone, their enemies would make a point to go after you, seeing you as an easy target. The other option was to leave the country.

"Good luck, Y/N. I mean it." He muttered as you turned the handle to the temporary safety of your home. You nodded, offering you cheek for the polite good night kiss you'd become accustomed to. He rolled his eyes and obliged, pressing an affectionate kiss to your cheek and ruffling your hair. "I'm serious. Watch your back."

***

John broke down when he finally heard the lock click shut. His eyes had been prickling with boiling tears, his jaw tensed to hold them back. He yelled out in anger, flipping his desk with force, a loud crash as the wood splintered against the stone flooring, glass shattering from the photo frames. His hands went to his head, unable to stop the gasping breaths escaping from his trembling lips, his face reddening.

"Fuck’s sake." He growled. He'd fucked everything up. He had nothing, just as he'd told you the first night you returned. The consequence was no surprise, he'd anticipated the fall out for a while, but he couldn't resist you. He was completely guilty and had no defense; his only justification being that you made him think with his cock, not his brain.

Fuck’s sake. Polly was going to murder him. She'd always had a soft spot for Ada, as the only girl in the family, and was no stranger to lecturing him over his flirtatious behaviour around Ada's friends. She'd murder him. He had a half mind to never go home. He rubbed at his eyes with his knuckles. Polly had no use for tears. That's what she'd tell him when he was a boy coming home with a skinned knee. This was far worse.

He was also sure that he was a worse brother than Tommy, perhaps the worst in the world. His baby sister, who he'd helped to toddle, carry proudly on his shoulders after school and race with her on his back through the fields on the outskirts of Small Heath, had walked in on him obviously in the midst of fucking her best mate. If he had swallowed his pride and actually talked to her, he wouldn't be in this mess. He could've told her that things changed, that for the same reasons Ada loved Y/N he had fallen for her, that he was truly sorry but she had to know before it got too far and someone got hurt. He couldn't go back.

He should've never approached you that night.

He should never approach you again.

He looked over the mess of his office, the splintered wood and shards of glass, a confetti of paperwork. Now nothing mattered. None of this mattered. He'd lost everything and he had only himself to blame.

[littlemisswriter]

Pendant

Summary:

A sentimental token of affection between Jacob and Lily; the coin necklace. Though it may look worthless to others, his gift to her cemented nothing but his absolute devotion.

Hey! I’ll be working between imagines/requests, and series periodically so please enjoy :) feel free to offer any ideas to a scenario while I work on pre-existing requests and ideas alike :)

-

Across the room to the bottom of the seat stands sat a group coated in green, a handful of Rooks cheering on their leader as he ravished any opponent that came close. And between those who worked under him sat the woman who stood beside him; his lover, fellow assassin and closest connection left in London.

Jane reclined back onto the seat; arms crossed loosely over her chest as she smiled knowingly at the fight. It hadn't been often that Jacob would lose, if he had at all; but when he knew she was present, he never faltered. Her mind blocked out all sounds as she watched the gang leader closely, the way his body would flex on impact underneath the sweat that gave him a certain shine under all the lights. Brows furrowed in concentration as he circled his opponents, while a lone strand of hair slipped out of place and across his forehead. He looked disheveled and slightly animalistic inside the ring, something that kept the crowds yelling out for more.

A loud bell sounded off to the side as the last body slammed into the ground. The man, a sturdy six-foot-tall mend of muscles, had now been nothing but a crumpled mess on the floor. Jacob had once again proven his durability and strength in the ring, raising an arm up to those around him while he endured a lap of victory. Jane kept her smile as she watched her partner indulge in the positive feedback. It was a good sense of a distraction when he found himself overthinking. Her own brows furrowed, and face bowed as she thought back to that day.

One she knew was coming the moment she realized Henry had proposed marriage to the older Frye twin. Evie had ambitions to set her goals higher after assassinating Crawford Starrick. It had only come to prove that if she could reclaim London, then she could achieve anything she worked hard for. And moving to India came shortly after it all. It was a big jump for the twins, Jacob and Evie having been inseparable since the moment they were born; and although there were brave faces all around, Lily could see straight through Jacob's facade.

He loved his sister, and he also loved her, hence why she understood why he leant on her heavier now more than ever. It was a hard truth to swallow, and London was a big city to patrol, so mucking around like this every now and then was always an exception to work.

"Congratulations Mister Frye!" One of the Rooks around Lily called as Jacob stepped through the ring and over to the stands. His chest still slightly heaving from adrenaline as he strode over proudly.

"Ah, nothing to it." Eyes turning, they lay directly down onto Lily to spot her grin already staring back at him. It had him chuckle. "It's easy when you have a good luck charm with you." Grounding his palms to the seat benches each side of her, Jacob leant over and down to Lily. His heat radiated onto her as did his sweat, but she hadn't minded as his lips captured her own in a soft yet tender embrace. The moment hadn't lingered too long, but enough to draw the pair into their own little world. The shouts and bustle of people all around them slipping into white noise as they pulled apart, eyes locked onto each other while Jacob dragged his thumb and forefinger down her chin.

"Mister Frye!" His attention was beckoned elsewhere as he stood tall once more, looking back to see the best bookie in London grinning at him ear to ear.

"Robert Topping," a friendly encounter exchanged between the two as they shook hands.

"A wonderful display tonight dear boy! You never fail to ruffle some feathers!" His eyes averted to Lily as he reached into his pocket. "And there is my other best fighter in London!" She sat up straight and laughed under her breathe. "Between the two of you, I'll be living in a palace of my own in no time." A sealed stash of cash now sat in his hand as he offered it to Jacob. "Your winnings, Mister Frye. And don't spoil yourself all at once." The assassin took the money, counting through the bills as his mind already began to wonder where he would allocate the funds. His gang for one... and as he glanced over his shoulder to his partner perched easily on the seat behind him, he knew she would be another.

"We must drink, sir!" A rook stirred as they stood, the group making way upstairs to the bar. "To your success!" Some getting ahead of themselves as they eagerly strode from the assassins. Lily picked up Jacob's coat and placed it in his arms.

"Come on, we mustn't keep them waiting." She snuck a kiss to the corner of his lips, lingering in the close proximity before pulling away. Jacob couldn't help but ball his fists at how easily the woman could make him feel quite literally anything. His heart longed for her in a way he had never felt before; sometimes it had worried him how dependent he was becoming on the woman. But he loved her, and he had never been on his own before.

So, with a quick ensemble of his robes, followed by a quicker ascent up the staircase, he came to find a drink in his hand with good company around him. The first few rounds had been on Jacob, flaunting his winnings as he believed any good Samaritan should have done. Though as time passed and the drinks began to fade his levelheaded thoughts, he found himself in a carriage making way back to Bertha. Lily sat by his side, or rather almost on his lap as he insisted. Her eyes almost bloodshot too at how many pints she had actually thrown back for those few hours.

Her shoulder pressed back into his chest as Jacob kept a sturdy arm around her waist to keep her there. The cobble had the two slightly wobble throughout the trip, but each assassin simply leant on each other to keep upright. Though a thought did pop into Jacob's mind not too long ago, and he'd been finding the perfect moment to act on it ever since. And now seemed as good a time as ever.

"Lily," he muttered, leaning forward to kiss her shoulder before nudging her to face towards him.

"Yes, my love?" She smiled, the pair indulging in the affectionate correspondence. His arms reached back up and around the back of his neck, biceps tightening beneath his robe as he concentrated at the task at hand. Lily lightly laughed, "what on earth are you doing?" He pulled accessory from around his neck and held it between them. It was his coin necklace, something he always had but never actually established where it came from.

"I want you to have this." Lily's heart skipped a beat as she watched Jacob reach up and place it around her head and down her neck.

"Jacob," she muttered, feeling the coin pressed against her collarbone as she looked down at it, "I cannot... I just-"

"You must." He smiled, pulling the back of her head forward to lay a kiss to her temple. "A part of me. Something you must always have." Lily's emerald eyes glanced up to his own as she sighed. She was truly touched. Though the pendant didn't appear to hold much value financially, its sentimental value could never be replaced. "Besides, now you lay my claim. And the necklace proves as much." The cheeky tone in his voice couldn't help but have Lily laugh as he pulled her closer by the lower back. "I'm completely serious."

"Oh, I know, Jacob." Her hands lifting for her fingers to graze down the sides of his jaw. "I'll treasure it in this lifetime and the next." A soft peck between the two as the carriage continued slowly down the streets. It was the beginning to the rest of their lives, a declaration of absolute devotion. And in time, who knows, perhaps a family heirloom of a heart clasping love story.

[the-broken-truth]

Lady dimitrescu s/o bonding with the daughters?🙍‍♂️

(Ex: giving cassandra fighting/hunting tips)

Broken Truth: A Little Father-Daughter Bonding Time? Let's get writing!

- Bela Dimitrescu -

"Here, Bela." A deep voice called out as a buff hand held out a white hard-cover book with the title 'Creatures of Greek Mythology. Bela looked up from the book she was reading, locking eyes with the only male of Castle Dimitrescu that wasn't turned into wine or dinner - [Y/N] [L/N], Husband of Alcina Dimitrescu & Step-Father of the Dimitrescu Sisters.

"What's this, Father?" Bela asked as she placed her bookmark in her place before closing the book in her lap and took the book from her step-father's hands and looked at it closely.

"I noticed that you are fond of books that regarded Ancient Civilizations & Unknown Creatures. This is a book I've had since I was a child living in Greece (The Reader is Greek in this case)." The man exhaled as he took a seat in the chair beside the blonde-haired girl.

"Your book?" Bela looked at the book again before looking at her step-father. "Then this must be important to you, Father. Why would you give me this?" Shee asked.

"My mother told me that I would have a family of my own someday and I would want to give them my most prized possession - that book was the last thing my father gave to me before I never saw him again. I have read it more than 1,000 times by now; I'm sure Athena would be annoyed with me if I read it again." He explained.

"Who's Athena?" Bela asked.

"She's the Greek Goddess of Reason, Wisdom, & War." He said.

"DID SOMEONE SAY WAR?!" Cassandra's voice echoed in the room.

"There is no war, Cass!" [Y/N] yelled back.

"But, I heard war!" Cass retorted.

"Then go read a book about war!" the man replied.

"Reading about war!" Cass confirmed.

"She likes war, now." [Y/N] said as he looked back at Bela.

"Wait - If Athena is the Goddess of Reason, why is she also the Goddess of War?" Bela questioned.

"Well, she's not the official Goddess of War - that title belongs to Ares, The God of War. He and Athena kinda have a bit of a... sibling rivalry going around about that since most of Athena Followers see her strategy about war more successful than Ares' - they call her the Goddess of War." [Y/N] explained.

"They're siblings?" Bela's eyebrow rose.

"Half-Siblings: They have the same father but different mothers." The man corrected.

"Who is their father then?" Bela asked.

"That would be the King of all the Gods - Zeus, God of Lightning & King of Olympus." He said.

"Olympus?" Bela questioned.

"The Realm of the Gods." The father said.

"THERE ARE OTHER GODS?!" Bela questioned as the man chuckled to himself.

'This is going to be a long night.'

Sure enough, it was - Bela constantly asked questions with everything her father said, even at the dinner table - she wanted to know more. The man just chuckled as he chewed on his steak while his wife gave him a glare that said...

'What have you done?'

- Cassandra Dimitrescu -

"Whoa! Oph!" Cassandra landed face-first on the floor of her step-father's training room, once again parried against and sent face-first into the ground.

"I've told you once and I'll tell you again, Cass; you can't overthink when in a fight, it gives your opponent time to get you when you're distracted in your thoughts." [Y/N] said as he rolled his wrist, letting it pop before placing it on his hip.

"I don't get how you do it, Papa." Cassandra groaned as she picked herself off the ground and turned to face her father. "You move too fast for me to keep up."

"I move fast because I don't think - I let my body move for me." He said with folded arms.

"What do you mean? Bela told me that the brain controls all movement so how can you move if you don't think about it?" Cassandra asked.

"Have you ever heard of instinct, child?" He asked.

"You mean while those animals?" Cassandra asked.

"Not like that. Allow me to put it like this - has your body ever suddenly stopped, for now, reason just in time for something to almost hit you or you almost trip on something?" The father asked.

"Ummm. Once - Dani got mad a threw a knife but I stopped walking just in time for the knife to hit the wall in front of me." She remembered.

"That's what I am talking about - you were mindlessly walking and your body stopped just in time before the knife hit you. Your body sensed danger and stopped to keep itself from getting hurt." [Y/N] explained.

"So...if I don't think and I'm attacked - my body will react on its own and stop itself from getting hurt?" Cassandra asked.

"Yes. The body knows it needs to be protected and will not let anything hurt it but overthinking can cancel that instinct and you get hurt in the process." He explained.

"Oh...Can we try again?" Cass asked.

"Not tonight, little bug. We can try after breakfast in the morning. Deal?" He said as he rose to his feet.

"Deal, Papa." Cassandra smiled at her father figure - she was happy her mother chose him.

- Daniela Dimitrescu -

"Daddy? What's that in your hand?" Dani asked as she looked over at the small glowing box in her father's hand.

"This? It's my Smartphone." [Y/N] said as he looked up from his phone.

"Smartphone? So, it knows stuff?" The girl asked with a tilt of her head - she looked like a confused red-haired cat. "Well, it does if it's connected to the internet - that's why I got the Wi-Fi Box set up in the study." He said.

"Wi-Fi?"

"It's Wireless Internet."

"What's Internet?"

"The...World Wide Network - you can do almost anything on the internet. You can buy things, watch videos, play games, or whatever you want."

"Can I torture people on it?" Dani asked.

"Well...you could but I don't think you should." Her father said.

"How can I use the internet?" Dani asked.

"You need a piece of Smart Tech - Like a smartphone, a computer, or a smart TV."

"How do I get one?" She asked.

"I'll order some for you and your sisters, I have one for your mother already coming."

A Few Months Later - Dani became the mistress of the internet and then asked her father for a PS4 for her birthday. At night, you can still hear the wild cackling of the witch who devoured the souls of noobs in Call of Duty.

- The Dimitrescu Sisters + Alcina Has Had Enough! -

"Let him go! Father is going to tell me more about Greece!" Bela yelled as she pulled on her father's right arm.

"No! Papa and I are going to train so that I can master my Ultra Instinct!" Cassandra said as she pulled her father's left arm.

"As if! Daddy and I are going to play Call of Duty together! There's a team who wants to go against us and I need Daddy to help me crush their souls!" Dani yanked on her father's foot.

[Y/N]'s teeth locked in pain as he was being pulled apart by his daughters - he was happy they wanted to spend time with him but this was painful.

"That's enough!" He was suddenly yanked upward from them - they all looked up to see their mother with her husband's head buried into her chest.

"Give Father/Papa/Daddy back!" The sisters demanded.

"No! Listen here, you little gremlins, I haven't been able to spend time with my own husband because of you and your hobbies. You can do what you want alone because I have going to have my husband to myself if it's the last thing I do" Alcina said as she marched off with her husband slowly suffocating in her breasts.