#sequel to Leaving Their Marks Behind

[teegeewrites]

Scent of Revenge

Scent of Revenge

Synopsis: Once Mario and Luigi discovered the playful shenanigans that Princesses Peach and Daisy orchestrated while they slept, they set their sights on crafting a delightful prank to get even.

Scent of Revenge serves as a follow-up to Leaving Their Marks Behind. The notion of writing this sequel crossed my mind not too long after LTMB, but I struggled to devise a fitting plan for Mario and Luigi to exact their revenge on the princesses. I envisioned a scheme that was both lighthearted and expansive and eventually managed to think of one that worked perfectly after a period of brainstorming. Once that was settled, I posted a potential brief excerpt of SoR on my main blog. However, the fic in general collected dust for over a year before I finally brushed the dust off and wrote the entire story. Also, I thought about making this another chapter to LTMB but decided to make it its own fic.

Honestly, this story turned out to be much more extensive than I had planned. My original idea was to finish it with Peach and Daisy finding out what Mario and Luigi had done. But as I thought about it, I realized that leaving it at that would create too many unanswered questions. Thus, I decided to add a few more scenes to wrap things up properly.

I must admit that I was really disheartened by this story’s reception on AO3. I had anticipated it would be much more popular, especially since a few readers asked for a sequel in the comments of LTMB. As it stands, it’s my least popular story at the moment. This was during the time I felt jaded at the lack of reciprocity before my hiatus from Tumblr and my return with a renewed sense of purpose and outlook on how to use the platform going forward. Regardless of its current standing, I had a blast writing this fic and had and am quite satisfied with the outcome. Also, so as not to come across as ungrateful, I want to acknowledge and appreciate the support it received.

[mohntilyet]

rook being such a nobody and surrounded by more influential companions right after the obviously well known inquisitor could be really cool actually. that conversation w solas 'what will they call you after this is done' <- NO FUCKING CLUE LOL!! the idea that this millennia long, world-ending story of gods and a herald being controlled for a moment by a nobody is incredible. they start as an irritant and end having saved the world. nobody thanks them. they go back home. maybe they're literally wiped off the face of the world when they're trapped in the fade with the dread wolf! and most of all, their name is not remembered. literally, because they become a 'rook' to the inquisitor's king.

like i’m actually really liking the idea that the inquisitor and rook get conflated into the same person by the public and by history, and what little agency they had is taken away. you were never in control of this story. your narrative will be written by other people, just like every figurehead that came before you. you are not the chosen one. the choice to have faded out and see the irrelevancy as a boon, or struggle to make your name known (not rook, not the nickname, not the title) would have been so. interesting.

veilguard is a heroic story (and the game doesn’t even let you be rude most of the time) that has to end heroically (the evanuris are defeated in some way, the last archdemon dies, and most rooks climb down from minrathous to literal cheers and applause) but the hero themself is forgettable. narratively that could have been so funnnn. but it wasn’t on purpose so it just feels hollow.

[svtiddiess]

Nom Nom: The Revenge

Synopsis: You’ve had your fun with your boyfriend; now it’s his turn to have fun with you.

Pairing: Seungcheol x afab!reader

Genre: suggestive, mini-series, established relationship

Rating: suggestive/mature

Word count: 1.1k

Warnings: biting, marking, nipple play, boob play, lemme know if I missed anything!

Note: This is a direct sequel to Nom Nom! It's very highly recommended that you read that before this!

Thank you so much to my second favourite menace @tusswrites for beta reading!

@brownsugarbaybee your part 3 is here baby.

This is part of a series, read the whole series here!

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Read on ao3

Reblogs are appreciated ♡

.ᐟMinors/blank/no age indicator blogs will be blocked.ᐟ

"I've let you have your fun, but now it's my turn."

You look up at your boyfriend, who has you pinned against the bed. His pupils are blown out, his lips are red and swollen from kissing, his hair is dishevelled, and his chest is littered with love bites made by you.

Your breath catches as your eyes fall on the initials you bit into his chest, framed by a heart. You can’t help but admire the striking contrast of the red and purple marks against his pale skin.

Seungcheol grabs your face and squeezes your cheeks, puckering your lips.

"Did you enjoy torturing me, princess?" he scoffs.

"A little," you giggle through your puckered lips. He lets out a strained chuckle.

"Well, let's see how much you enjoy this," he smirks before reaching down and removing your shirt, leaving you in your red lace bra, he growls at the sight of it. You shiver as the cold air nips your bare skin.

"Cold princess? Don't worry, I'll warm you up soon," he purrs before diving into your breasts.

You gasp and bite your lip as he starts nipping and licking your breasts. You squirm in place from the ticklish sensation on your skin.

"Stop moving," he growls against your skin, and you immediately freeze in place.

He runs his tongue over your bra-covered nipples, soaking the fabric. You whine and tell him to stop teasing.

"Ah, ah, no complaining princess. You're going to sit there and take what I give to you like a good girl," he smirks.

You pout at him and arch your back to press your breast against him to which he chuckles.

"Such a brat," he murmurs before unclipping your bra and throwing it behind him.

You sigh in relief at the feeling of your chest being free of the restraint. Without missing a beat, he dives in and takes a breast into his mouth, sucking on your perked-up nipple. You squeeze your eyes shut and moan his name out loud. He uses his hand to knead your other breast, not leaving it neglected. After taking his time relishing your breast he moves to the other one, giving it equal attention. You can feel your already soaked panties get even more soaked, and it sticks to you like a second skin.

He releases your breast with a pop and looks down at you with a smirk.

"Since you got to mark me, it's only fair that I mark you too princess," he purrs.

"But I'm not going to mark you here," he teases as he squeezes your left breast, eliciting a gasp from you.

"I'm going to mark you…" he murmurs as his finger slowly trails down your torso and stops at your pelvis, right above your core.

"Here," he growls with a smirk.

He proceeds to leave bites and kisses trailing down to your pelvis, his hands firmly holding you in place to keep you from moving. You let out shaky breaths and whimpers, feeling your body heat up at his actions.

He looks at you as he slowly peels your pants and panties off, discarding them somewhere behind him. You shudder as the cold air nips your dripping core. He slowly starts nibbling and licking the skin right above your core.

"Ch-Cheol, please," you mewl, frustrated at the teasing.

"Hush baby, don't make me gag you now," he warns.

You let out a whimper in protest, but he only smirks in reply. He looks into your eyes as he starts marking his initials into your skin, just as you did to him. Your toes curl, and you whine at the feeling of him sucking the sensitive skin. Too shy to maintain eye contact, you close your eyes. Seungcheol grumbles in response and bites down a little harder, causing you to yelp and look down at him.

"Look at me while I'm marking you," he growls against your skin. Your cheeks flush, and you bite your lip as you watch him continue to paint your skin with blotches of red and purple.

Finally satisfied, he sits up and admires the marks he’s left on your skin, gently tracing over them, making you shiver.

"You look so pretty marked with my initials, princess," he smirks. You mewl and buck your hip, desperate for him to finally touch you where you want.

"Such an impatient princess," he chuckles. "Weren't you having fun when you were teasing me? Why're you whining now?"

"I'm sorry Cheollie, please, just fuck me," you whine, tears of frustration pricking the corner of your eyes.

"Not yet, princess. I'm still not done marking you," he states with a gleam in his eye.

He then trails wet kisses down to your inner thighs. At this point you're so wet you're sure the sheet underneath you is soaked. He chuckles when he sees the wet spot forming under you.

"Such a needy princess," he mumbles before gently blowing air into your core.

"Ch-Cheol!" You gasp and jerk your hips, making him chuckle.

Instead of giving you what you want, he starts leaving love bites on your inner thighs. You instinctively try to close your legs, but he holds them open with his calloused hands. The rough texture of his skin feels ticklish against the soft skin of your thighs.

Your thighs tremble in his hold as he relentlessly bites and licks them. Soon, both your inner thighs are painted with bite marks and saliva.

"Cheollie, please. I can't take it anymore," you whine out in frustration. If he continues with the teasing, you might actually end up crying. He chuckles as he sits up, his knees positioned outside of yours.

"Almost done princess. I need to take a picture of my masterpiece, don't I?" he cocks his head and smiles slyly as he reaches for his phone.

He looks down and almost moans at the sight. Your hair is spread across the pillow, perfectly framing your face. Your pupils are dilated, lips red and swollen from kissing, and your body adorned with purple and red bite marks, along with his initials etched into your skin right above your core, and your core is glistening, coated with your arousal.

He licks his lips as he takes multiple photos of you, making sure every detail is captured. The pictures would definitely come in handy when he's off on tour and needs something to jerk off to.

"Cheol," you plead, wanting him to finally fuck you already.

"Princess really can't wait for my dick huh?" He playfully mocks your pout, putting his phone away. You nod eagerly, pouting and giving him puppy eyes, hoping he’ll finally give in.

"Don't worry princess, I'll make sure to fuck you until my dick is the only thing you can think about."

[queenendless]

💀🎃👻This Is Halloween👻🎃💀

A/n: Sequel to Spooky Greetings

Overblot Bois and Skully x Fem Reader. SPOILERS FOR THE NIGHTMARE BEFORE CHRISTMAS event. Especially THE END.

HAPPY HALLOWEEN~! 🎃

The ups and downs of being in a place like Halloween Town was quite the experience.

Despite the detour you encountered.

Like being nabbed by Skully for witnessing him kidnapping his dear Skellington and holding you and Grim captive in a literal walking bathtub to Spiral Hill. Yet he was the nicest kidnapper there ever was.

“Please enjoy these and make yourself comfortable, my love.” Skully’s kiss on the lips made you too tongue tied to eat the snacks he left behind. Leaving Grim to eat them instead.

Thankfully it didn't take long for a rescue. As in Sebek, Jamil and Leona dueling Skully as the others came to your side, totally put off by how unharmed you are. Immediately gobsmacked as you ran to a blushing crying Skully having a meltdown over his own personal issues and hugging him out.

If his idol and you could console him on his limited views on this spooky holiday and forgive him so easily, then of course he'd start bawling for joy.

“There there you precious boi.” You're cooing as you hug him and brush his white locks, Skully’s wet face nuzzling your flushed neck, to the flabbergasted faces of his rivals for your affections. And in that moment he won.

Finally the time had come to throw the yearly spooky celebration.

Hearing all your fellow schoolmates singing a tune tickled the back of your brain at the familiarity of said song.

“Sweets for you, my greatest treat~” Riddle showed up in the walking tub with Lock, Shock and Barrel, handing you a pumpkin faced treat with a smooch to your cheek.

“Let me fill your dreams with frightful delight~” Leona purred in your flushed ear, embraced you from behind as he kissed the top of your head from above, with Zero the ghostly dog bopping you on the nose with his tiny glowing pumpkin one.

“Your screams are music to my ears~” Azul's octo strength made it that much easier for him to twirl you around in his arms, dancing across the town, pecking your forehead.

“I'll be there for my lady fair.” Jamil assured as your hair like his and Sally's blew from the chilly winds; the autumn leaves flying on by, as he dove in to smooch your nose.

“Ride with me in the dead of night.” Hugging Vil securely as he modeled with ease on the flying broomstick gave you quite the view, turning around a bit to leave his kiss on your other cheek.

“My heart screams for thee!” Idia presented a heart in a jar to you given to him by Dr Finkelstein made your own heart want to pop out in fear and yet it was oddly sweet, especially cause your zealous boi smooched your neck, possessively marking your neck.

“Our Halloween Queen.” Malleus easily swoops you atop the Mayor's car he was driving at the moment, carrying you bridal style, gifting you a full on kiss to your lips, smiling mischievously against your own.

“In this town we call home, everyone hail to the Pumpkin song.” Holding your gloved hand in his own, you and Skully waved along with everyone else as Jack Skellington, the Pumpkin King, rose from the town fountain, pride emanating from him as everyone cheered at the finale.

Too bad you all forgot about it.

Until you were back at school, when Headmaster Crowley presented to you all a very rare portrait of a NRC alumni from centuries ago. Aka the King of Halloween that made such a holiday what it is today in all of Twisted Wonderland.

Despite no memories of the strapping young man, you all felt drawn to him and his influence, inspired to make this the best Halloween yet.

But while everyone else was getting pumped up by it, you were feeling odd. Like you were missing someone you had never met in the flesh and bone.

Seeing your admirers blushing red at your costume, appearing in a rag doll inspired couture dress with a ribbon collar to boot, it was time to begin Halloween Week.

And yet, for some reason, you felt eyes on you throughout the whole week. Tingly touches to your hands that felt like brushing kisses. Even on All Hallows Eve, the ghost-like press of the lips all over your face made you on edge during the float parade.

Running by the portrait in the midst of your anxious worried state. Those eyes following you unbeknownst to you all. With the moon full and the party still going strong in the distance, you felt drawn to the tombstones littered around Ramshackle Dorm. Instinct, another voice, your feet moving on their own will, call it whatever you will, for you moved to a particular worn-out grave. Atop a hill.

Watching the spectral form of the King of Halloween himself appear before you coming out of the grave, bowing graciously before you, as he offered his skeletal gloved hand out to you, his teary eyes and smitten smile unveiled to you, it all made a sudden wave of emotion hit you hard in the feels.

“Y/n, welcome back.”

While the mind was still fuzzy of your recollection due to the magic of the book, something else more primal awoke in you the moment your eyes locked onto his. Your feet moved before your mind could.

As physically as one could embrace a ghost, you still felt traces of warmth amiss the cold. You were surprised to feel physical arms hugging you in return. The bridge between the living and the spirits was blurred tonight so …

The longer you two stayed that way, the more the fog in your brain began to depart. The flash of your last moment together made you realize the reason for his choice of words.

“Skully.” You softly wept, clutching onto him tighter, when he cupped your face to kiss away the tears. His face, his mouth, they all feel so warm. “You're really here.”

“It's been far too long, my love.” He confessed.

That prolonged deep kiss began ebbing away the mist. Gently licking your bottom lip to get you to open. Smiling smugly as you returned it sincerely, humming at your hands running through his wispy hair. His phantom self became solid and lean, heart beating right up against your chest, his scent became more potent as they were the sweet and spicy of Autumn nature.

“I'm home.” He whispered against your luscious lips, nuzzling his nose to yours, smiling all lovesick at your giggling self.

The ghostly trio residents watched on with hearts in their eyes as you got lost in bliss, slowly dancing with the founder of their spooky dorm. Engaging in lip lock once more. Floating off the ground, basked in the stars of this special spooky night.

For you, his Queen, danced with him, your Pumpkin King.

[transbookoftheday]

Trans Horror Podcasts

My post about trans horror books last year was much more popular than I expected, and since I've recently fallen in love with fiction podcasts and audio dramas, I thought I'd make a post about trans horror podcasts as well.

If you like trans horror, please give these a try - especially if you enjoy listening to audiobooks!

Hello From The Hallowoods:

Come walk between the black pines! In this award-winning queer fiction podcast, an eldritch narrator follows the increasingly connected residents of the forest at the end of the world. It's a bittersweet story that explores queer identity, horror genre tropes, and finding hope in humanity's last moments.

Hello From The Hallowoods is my absolute favorite podcast! If you only listen to one podcast from this list, please make it this one - it's so beautifully written and super queer! Also: season 4 starts today!

Trans main characters include:

our nonbinary eye-affiliated podcast host

a nonbinary "Frankenstein's creature"

a transmasc ghost

a genderfluid storm witch

a trans woman who can visit other people's dreams

multiple characters using neopronouns

Camp Here & There:

Good morning, campers! Camp Here & There is a weekly horror comedy podcast tuned in to the loudspeakers of a small midwestern sleepaway camp plagued by supernatural terrors and natural disasters. Sydney Sargent, resident camp nurse, cheerfully reports on all the terror we must face with a big smile. Let’s hope there’s nothing weird about that!

Sydney is a trans man.

Dos: After You:

Things have changed. Deck has fallen in love with someone who isn't human, and leaves a hungry house behind to see him again. Will he be waiting for you? The world has changed… but what about him? Dos: After You is a queer urban fantasy/horror audiodrama available in both English & Spanish

Deck is a trans man.

Jar of Rebuke:

Follow Dr. Jared Hel's journey as he works to re-discover his forgotten past and finds his place within the small Indiana farm town of Wichton and the cryptozoological organization he works for called 'The Enclosure'. These audio journals, and other recordings, dive deep into Midwestern US cryptids and folklore while also telling a mystery about identity, queerness, neurodivergence, and community.

Jared is nonbinary.

Spirit Box Radio:

Spirit Box Radio is an award winning, horror audio drama podcast about a radio show for enthusiasts of all things arcane. Follow Sam Enfield a former postboy with no experience in the arcane arts, who finds themselves forced to take over running the show, following the disappearance of the previous host. Sam soon discovers there are more than ghosts haunting the show, and finds himself amidst a mystery which threatens everything he knows about the world beyond his tiny basement broadcast studio, and maybe even himself.

Sam is a trans man.

The Silt Verses:

Carpenter and Faulkner, two worshippers of an outlawed god, travel up the length of their deity’s great black river, searching for holy revelations amongst the reeds and the wetlands. As their pilgrimage lengthens and the river’s mysteries deepen, the two acolytes find themselves under threat from a police manhunt, but also come into conflict with the weirder gods that have flourished in these forgotten rural territories. This is a world where divine intervention takes place through prayer-markings scratched into stumping-posts, and offerings are left squirming to die in the flats of the delta. This is a world of ritual, and hidden language, and sacrifice. This is folk horror, and fantasy, and a dark road trip into the depths of unusual faith.

Faulkner is a trans man and Paige is a trans woman.

The Magnus Protocol:

The Magnus Archives 2: The Magnus Protocol is the prequel/sequel/”sidequel” to the internationally renowned Magnus Archives podcast. The Magnus Institute was an organisation dedicated to academic research into the esoteric and the paranormal, based out of Manchester, England. It burned to the ground in 1999. There were no survivors. Now, almost 25 years later, Alice and Sam, a pair of low-level civil service workers at the underfunded Office of Incident Assessment and Response, have stumbled across its legacy. A legacy that will put them in grave danger. If this intrigues you then it is our pleasure to welcome you to the Office of Incident, Assessment and Response. Make sure you pick up your badge at desk and report to your line manager before sitting down. Oh and stay away from I.T., seriously.

Alice is a trans woman.

[um-soybean]

Lucifer and Your Pact Marking

Summary: What does Lucifer think about your pact mark predicament?

Warning: THIS IS A SEQUEL TO THIS‼️, Lucifer being a sadist, lightly suggestive maybe, branding, demon pacts, kinda dark romance sorta thingy so angsty?

Lucifer wasn’t at all aware of how your pact marks would affect you. Only knowing it would likely be a stronger feat than a simple glow. However, after discovering the burn that permanently brands you as a demon’s, he had to have you.

On the days leading up to making your pact with Lucifer you could already feel his eyes. The cold calculating ones until you turned and looked, only to find yourself burning up as you stared back at him.

He smirked more often, eyes landing on a piece of your skin that’s always just a bit showy. A little sliver of skin near your chest. Just over your heart. And though you would barely catch the longing behind his facade as you were set to leave the Devildom, you could also catch his intense desire to rip you apart. He wanted something you didn’t know you could provide. And you didn’t know if you would survive providing it. It drove you crazy.

When he finally did make a pact with you he gave you that same stare, and everything fell into place. Due to a few former incidents the demons around you had finally understood the harshness of your pact markings. A couple making marks into your skin already as your precious demons began to rub off on you. Lucifer wanted that. He will have that.

And so you find yourself with a pact with the Avatar of Pride. It would be just impossible not to feel pride yourself right? You conquered the 7 Deadly Sins. Made them obey. And so begins the true form of Lucifer’s sadistic nature.

As you lie in his bed with your newly burned skin, his wings wrap around you. Holding you and blocking the light to calm your headache. Cooing at you and kissing your hair as you cry. You groan in pain, unable to move and seeking comfort in Lucifer. He allows you to. Or if anything, he wants you to.

What you don’t see is that same smile from before, teeth almost peeking out when he catches a glimpse of that skin. The same skin he set his eyes on. The only piece unmarked and the only piece showed off the most. And now, only one of those is true. He can’t take his eyes off you. The most prideful creature in the three worlds and yet a mere human manages to capture his attention with a branding. His branding.

He knows his brothers are jealous. For not thinking of the same bit of skin. For not knowing sooner how it would affect you. How it would show off the control you have over them, and the possessive power they have over you. He adores it. They should be jealous.

No matter your personality, Lucifer feels a sickening warmth in his stomach when he sees the silvery mark on your skin. And though he seems indifferent, he stares when you don’t look. As if he was a pervert off the street. But looking away quickly as you face him again.

You may never know his true feelings behind the matter unless you sleep with your eyes open. He may never even think of the idea to show you how much power your scar holds over him.

Note: Hi! Thanks for reading! This is my first time writing for Lucifer and I’m not sure if I actually like it (hence why it took so long to come out). I wasn’t sure if people wanted a fluffy sequel or darker sequel so I just stuck with darker.

[yaekiss]

since your normal requests are still open （＾ω＾） i absolutely NEED to go next door to my darling kaeya!!! he can’t just be so devoted and adoringly obsessive without being rewarded! after that little show of a picture he sent, can’t quite be satisfied until i ravage him the way we know he wants </3

𝑹𝒆𝒄𝒊𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒄𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒅

꩜ Room Content: Dom! GN! Reader x Yan! Sub! Kaeya, no gendered terms for reader, Kaeya calls you "my heart", unhealthy and obsessive relationship from Kaeya, unhealthy attachment from reader, stalking (from Kaeya), mentions of biting and marking (Kaeya receiving), handjob (Kaeya receiving), lmk if I missed out anything ! ꩜ A/N: This is a (long overdue) sequel to this love letter from a previous event (now closed!) Sigh I really meant to finish this a lot earlier, first it was supposed to be your birthday present then when that date passed by, a v-day gift of sorts,,,,, But it's here now!! Hope it's kind of what you were looking to read @pulpbeing !

The whole walk over to the next room, regardless of how short it was, you were barely cognizant. It was hard to be, when mere minutes ago, it was revealed to you that your lover was some sort of obsessive stalker. (Yet, why does your heart still hammer so hard in your chest?)

Each step draws you closer and closer to Kaeya, and before you even register it, you’ve reached the door to his room. It's the very last one in the hallway. The room opposite his is vacant.

Your blood thrums under the skin of your fingers as you reach out to the smooth cold handle on the door, as if the mere act of crossing that threshold could shatter everything at once.

And to your surprise, the door swings open without any resistance.

The second your foot pads onto the carpet of his room and the door locks behind you, the atmosphere turns electric as a singular starry eye bores into you from where Kaeya is lounging on the bed.

And there he is. Draped in the same lacy white lingerie in the scandalous photograph he sent to you. As if the sight in the picture wasn’t stunning enough already, the sight of your lover before you outright steals the breath from your lungs. 

Adorned in naught by the gauzy fabric, you drag your gaze down from his face, to the crimson-stained trail left from that trickle of wine from his lips. The sheerness of the lingerie leaves nothing to the imagination with the way it snugly hugs his figure. The curve of his chest, his slender yet toned physique, stark white garter belt against the flesh of his thighs.

It's all ridiculously tantalising to you. And he knows it.

“No need to just stand by my door, my heart. You can do more than just gawk at me, you know?” Kaeya all but purrs out to you from where he’s seated, his one eye squinting as he grins.

Somehow, your body has already betrayed your warring thoughts within because when you next blink, you’ve crossed over to the bed, the mattress dipping as you take your seat beside him. His grin grows more blinding at this and he squeezes in closer to you, until your thighs are touching. 

“So the cat’s out of the bag, and now you know I’ve been tailing after you in Fontaine like some lovesick dog off a leash,” he sighs noncommittally, as if he didn’t just admit to stalking you.

He fixes you with a gaze, “How exactly does it make you feel?”

“Is it fear?”

The silence grows when you don’t respond, as if you know in a deep twisted part of your mind, that despite this, Kaeya would never harm a single hair on your head.

“Or is it desire?”

And it’s at this, that your heart thumps. 

The kiss is messy, more tongue and spit than anything else but you can’t be bothered when you’re busy removing the lingerie still on him. He melts into you as your hands wind around his frame, unravelling and undressing him from the flimsy layers of white lace that dare to separate him from you. When you watch the pure white tumble from him, perhaps he’s not the only one whose desires drive them wild.

A breathy moan leaves him as you leave bite mark after bite mark across the expanse of his neck. The feeling of your teeth pressed against his skin, the pressure and force behind it threatening to break past the surface. You’re kind enough to grant him one last hickey prior to pulling back and briefly admiring your handiwork.

Hands trailing down his side, you graze your fingertips over his hips before you settle a palm against his length. Just before he can roll himself up to rut against your hand, your other hand grips the side of his hip, stilling him as a protesting noise slips past his lips.

“You’ll move when I say you can. You can do that for me, yes?” 

Docile, he nods and simply watches on as your hand wraps itself around him. You can tell by the way he’s fisting the bedsheets that he’s holding himself back, resisting the urge to fuck into your hand. Aided by the precum drooling from his tip, you glide your hand slowly up and down, marvelling at the way his breath hitches and eyes screw shut whenever you twist your grip exactly where you know he likes it.

It doesn’t take long before you can tell he’s reaching his limit. His breathing grows clipped and ragged and his groans and whines become increasingly needy. Every time his hips jerk involuntarily, your hand stills, prompting him to plead pitifully for you to continue. He makes quite the sorry sight before you, and your heart twinges with the need to watch him come undone.

Deciding you’ve toyed with him enough for now, you lean in, whispering, “Go on, let me see how you reward yourself.”

His pulse jackrabbits as you lave your tongue along his jugular, panting out broken “thank you”s at your generosity while he frantically chases his release, rutting into your hand. A quick twist and he’s spilling over, crumpling in on himself as he moans unabashedly at the pleasure you’ve shown to him. He has his chin hooking over your shoulder and arms wrapping around you, pulling you into a tight hug whilst riding out his high, his chest heaving as he catches his breath.

Suddenly, your world tilts when Kaeya pulls you down onto the bed, you lie atop him, trapped in his embrace.

And coy as he is, he slithers next to your ear and whispers breathlessly, “It’s alright, you can have your way with me,” you can feel his heart pound from beneath you, your pulse matching his.

“There’s no one next door anyways.”

Thanks for reading! Consider supporting me on kofi if you enjoyed this or check out my other works hehe ♡

[risuola]

SHUSH, WE'RE IN THE LIBRARY — F. READER x GOJO SATORU

cw: smut, student x teacher, age gap (reader is 18, Satoru is 28), public sex, unprotected sex, oral (m. receiving), little bit of cum play, reader discretion is advised — 1,8k words

a/n: since you liked the first part so much, here’s a little nsfw sequel

» FIRST PART

When you walked into the library earlier in the day, there wasn't a single hint as to how the visit was going to end. It had been a few days since your last training session with Gojo, the one where you kissed him (and punched him in the face), and everything seemed quiet after that – he left Tokyo for a couple of days on a business trip, and you had no idea he was already back. You were quickly made aware of that, when his honeyed tone reached your ears as you walked pass him, not even noticing the headful of white hair, “not even a hello? Ayy, that’s rude,” he chuckled and before you could even think of reaction, he was already behind you. You were searching for a book, somewhere in the middle of dozens of bookshelves, when he trapped you in between old medical literature and his well-build body.

“I didn’t notice you, sensei,” you admitted quietly, suddenly hyperaware of him – the sound of his voice, the scent of his cologne, the warmth of his body; everything became all to close, tickling your senses and freezing you on the spot.

“I may forgive you,” he chuckled and you felt his hand snaking around your waist, pulling you flush to his torso. Breath stuck in your throat as you noticed the hard outline of his cock pressing against your back. “So, tell me, what are you looking for at that hour?”

“I forgot about homework Shoko gave me”, you responded, trying to keep your composure. “I came here to study before I meet with her.”

“Forgetting about homework? How unruly”, Gojo lowered his head, nipping at the tip of your ear and once again, you stopped breathing. It was all new to you, he was never that brave with his flirting but he had told you before he left that he’ll catch you when he’s back. That day on the training grounds, things got pretty heated, until he noticed some students approaching, what forced you two apart. “How about I give you a lesson.”

“Sens-“

“Shush, we’re in the library,” he smiled and your vision went dark, as he covered your eyes with his blindfold. Fighting with confusion, you forced your other senses to sharpen and you quickly became extremely aware of the traces his large hands were leaving all around your body, the wet marks his lips were planting on the sensitive skin of your neck and his rock-hard statue right behind you.

Satoru acted quickly, desperate to finally have you after he's been thinking about you nonstop for the last few days. He gathered your skirt up and unbuttoned your shirt a bit to get more access to your skin, while his lips never lost contact with your neck. Grateful for the early hour and the empty library, he whispered filthy little somethings into your ear, messing with your senses as you never knew from which side he'll speak next. Your little gasps and whimpers overjoyed him, the needy roll of your hips against his hardened cock made him hold his breath and he reached down, sneaking his hand under your belly and lower to tease you. The wetness that has already soaked a patch through your panties made him grin with cocky pride.

"So needy," he purred, not wasting any more time. His long fingers found their way beneath your underwear and you bit onto your lower lip, swallowing the whimper that threatened to escape your throat as you felt the circling pressure on the most sensitive bud in your body. Feeling brave, you reached back, touching his thigh and moving up to stroke his clothed member. The size hit you, a gasp left your mouth and you realized that there's no way he could fit inside you. As if sensing your hesitation, he undid the button and zipper, pushing his pants and boxers down just enough to let his cock spring free. You gasped as your palm wraped around his girth, your mind slowly spiraling about what you've gotten yourself into, but your pussy seemed to be nothing but excited. Satoru could feel the arousal underneath his fingers, he felt your clit throbbing and your hips rolling slightly to get more friction from his hand.

"Now you're going to be a good girl, yeah?" he smirked, taking away the pleasure of his digits and swiftly turning you around. "Down," he commanded, and without a second thought, you dropped to your knees. Quickly you found the magic wand, your eyes are still covered so touch was the only sense you could only rely on. As you stroked it up and down, you felt your mouth salivating, you were curious and decided that if you cannot see it, at least you can taste it. Driven by the thought, you gave the head of his cock a few experimental licks, circling your tongue around the tip and tasting the salty pre-cum that's already collected there.

You felt his hand stroke your head, wordlessly praising you and you took him into your mouth, slowly at first, almost teasingly, as you created a mental image of what you felt under your tongue – all the veins dancing around his long shaft, the sheer size of what you were working with, the way he filled your mouth completely and you still had room to use your hand. Encouraged by his palm, you picked up the pace, licking and sucking, listening to his breath hitching in his chest above you, and when the tip hit the back of your throat and you used your teeth to graze along the length, his head fell back. Few fucks left his throat and you felt him snap his hips forward. His cock was leaking, throbbing in the warmth of your mouth and you decided to tease him a bit.

Taking him out completely, you run your tongue along the underside of his hard member and Gojo felt like it's torture as your lips sucked hard on the very tip. "Enough teasing," he breathed out, grabbing you under your arms and pulling you up again, your back turned to him. The next thing you felt was his length sinking into you without warning.

He pushed himself into you painfully slowly, stretching you incredibly well, and you muffled the moan that tried to escape your chest with your hand. Satoru bottomed out, angling his hips upward, filling you just right as his palms landed on the sides of your waist, where he also kept your skirt from rolling down. Your panties were quickly torn by him, the seams giving up under the pressure of his strength, and you couldn't help but shiver at the sudden feeling of losing your underwear. "Such a good girl," he cooed directly into your ear, before pulling out almost completely, only to push back fully. He was drunk with the sight of his length disappearing inside you, the feeling of your muscles squeezing him is overwhelming and if it weren't for the grounding iron grip on your hips, he'd be completely lost here and there.

You bit down onto the heel of your palm, quieting yourself as your mind went completely blank. All your senses were focused on him – the taste that still lingered on your tongue, the musky scent of his cologne, and the way his thick cock hammered into you, twitching and flexing from time to time, successfully driving you crazy. You saw stars in the darkness of his blindfold. The force of his hips was brutal, stretching you deliciously with each thrust, kissing every sweet spot inside you, and the way your pussy squeezed him was a reward he found intoxicating.

You gripped tightly onto the bookshelves in front of you, your knuckles turning white as you tried to stabilize yourself. "S-sen-sei~," you panted, your words half coherent as Satoru ruthlessly pounded into you from behind. His hand crawled around your neck and pressed against your mouth, silencing you. "Sshh," he whispered directly into your ear and you could hear the amusement in his tone, you knew he was smiling, "you don't want anyone to hear you, do you?"

You didn’t, but how could you help it when he was abusing your cunt so well. You hummed, gritting your teeth to shut yourself up as he fucked his way right into your soul. Gojo watched with pride as you took him whole, the sound of skin slapping echoing in between shelves and the way your ass jiggled at the impact of his body colliding with yours made him go feral. You could feel yourself crumbling under the sheer power he had over you, your knees barely kept you standing, and if it wasn't for the supporting grip he had on your hip, you would have surely fallen over, defeated by the towering body that loomed over your own.

It became too much, he felt the warmth rushing through his veins and he leaned into you, burying every breathless groan into your shoulder and you could hear how fucked out he was, you felt him throbbing inside you and the dangerous wave of your release was approaching fast. The rhythmic squeezing of your pussy brought him to the edge and he babbled the most obscene praises against your neck. You felt like the temperature in the library raised, burning your skin with lust and satisfaction as you came undone, creaming around his cock and he followed closely, unable to resist the delightful twitches of your walls. Spilling his load, he filled you completely and you felt his thrusts becoming sloppier, uneven as he ride out the blissful haze and he laughed softly, his head buried in the skin between your neck and shoulder. He was overjoyed, ecstatic, he sounded almost high as he pulled out and turned you over so he could scoop you into his chest before you collapse.

Your knees were weak and you clung to him for dear life, focusing on the drumming of his heart beneath your ear. The library fell quiet, only your mingled breaths bounced off the bookshelves, quickly being absorbed by the countless pages of old literature.

You felt him pull away, smoothing your clothes back into place before zipping up his pants.

"You've been such a good girl," he praised, catching the drop running down your thigh with his fingers and then lifting it to your face. "Open," Satoru commanded and you complied, taking the digits into your mouth and licking them clean. "My favorite student."

When he finally removed the blindfold from your head, you felt the cold air hitting the damp skin underneath your eyes, Satoru smiled gently, wipes away the teary residue with his thumb and leaning in to plant a soft, tender kiss on your lips.

“I can’t wait until you graduate,” he muttered against your mouth.

“Gradua… fuck, I need to go see Shoko.”

“First you need to clean up. We’ve made quite a mess.”

“But-“

“I’ll explain you.”

“If you say so, sensei.”

[sparklingcid3r]

I promised a rumble rundown, so that’s what I’m gonna do. Let’s go🙏 also here's the yt vid i used lol

0:14-0:17

Paul says, “Hello, Darrel. Long time, no see” and then immediately starts checking him out with that upside down smile, ik what u think abt 👁️👁️

0:24-0:27

“I’ll take you” yeah Paul I’m sure u will 🙄 Darry’s cold af w the staredown tho, it’s unfortunate that Pony and Soda have do a full head turn to look at each other like “IKKK he ain’t j said that”

0:27-0:31

DALLAS MY GLORIOUS KING ARRIVES,, shirtless??? And the crowd goes mild‼️ Pony also gets popped in the face and down he goes, it was so good that he was here for just a little bit, everyone say bye now bc the next time he shows up in the fight u won’t even know it’s him I’m deadass

0:48-0:55

Soda is ripping into this guy right, my baby’s a champion!! And then gets up and kinda… walks past Steve getting his ass beat lmao. He even puts his hand on Steve’s shoulder to steady himself as he goes by😭

He just misses the mean double gut punch Steve tanks like the unit he is, because Steve GRABS THIS MAN’S PUNCH and RIPS one across his face, it was beautiful. Masterclass in the ring I’m afraid

0:56-0:58

Okay. I need to give yall the play by play for this single two-second sequence because it was genuinely the greatest clip of cinema I’ve ever seen in my life.

Paul’s got Darry out of frame and he’s confident, dare I say cocky. He’s doing the universal hand signals for “Cmon, hit me bro.”

And I’m gonna say this next part softly. Lean in and listen to me:

When I tell u that Darry clocks Paul in the face, I don’t mean he just clocks Paul in the face. Darry rises like a phoenix from the ashes and swings so hard that everyone around him can feel the aftershocks. Paul has just experienced the equivalent of a steel boxing glove to the dome. Teeth are flying. Paul will have no recollection of this moment for the rest of his life. Take a look at this.

Alr now we back up because YOU CAN SEEEE THE MOMENT OF REALIZATION. This man starts BAILING. The minute Darry spins back, Paul’s got bug eyes, all “Hold up. Wait a minute. He really ‘bout to clock my shit.” He did not want that smoke NEARLY as much as he thought he did, and ykw? I don’t blame him 🤷‍♀️ 

Letting yall know that I had to go back and slow down the playback speed so that I could bask in the glory that is Darrel Curtis’s behemoth of a punch. Geologists are losing their minds wondering how volcanoes are erupting and mountains are shifting, unaware of what just happened in Tulsa, Oklahoma.

1:00-1:03

Dally bitch slapping a dude is a great way to kick off the one-minute mark, and a good kick to the ribs just for funsies ig. U go girl🫶

1:04-1:07

Hottest Two-Bit has ever looked sorry

1:19-1:21

Alr Dally is literally picking people up and WWE rocking their shit as he slams them to the ground. That kid was dropped neck first. How did Pony not have to write a sequel.

1:22-1:24

Just an entire sequence dedicated to Soda mewing even as he gets bitched in the face. It’s alr tho, he got his get back

1:47-1:49

Istg I’m not tripping, u listen and u can hear Pony screaming for Darry yall I thought this was supposed to be a good time, I’m actually sobbing

1:55-2:01

STEVE CLUTCHES UP??? DEADASSSS that was the CLEANEST three-shot KO I’ve ever seen, then he body flips the guy behind him??? I WASN’T FAMILIAR W UR GAME, RANDLE 🙏

2:09-2:15

The Socs are kind of getting ready to retreat at this point but rq we gotta check in on the exes, Paul’s getting clowned on again lmfao.

This man tried to kick Darry, then when Darry’s got his foot and is getting ready to spin him like that pigskin, he’s PULLING on Darry’s HAIR??? Man, just leave 😭 ur cooked. And the last time we see him, he’s CRAWLING AWAY😭😭 at least STAND UP

2:24-2:27

Pony’s getting washed in a 6v1 it ain’t his fault this time, bless up. Luckily my goat Darrel Shaynne Curtis Jr. pulls up and literally starts throwing bodies. Absolutely spectacular that I get to live in the same lifetime as this movie.

2:30-2:32

Darry’s asking, “Ponyboy, you okay?” and some NOBODY tries to grab Darry’s shoulders. Who do u think u are???

3:35-3:45

Greasers get the W👏

So in conclusion I think we can all agree that if u are locked in an iso with Darry, just offer up ur cheek and get it over w. Ur not getting the dub. Roll down ur sleeves and go home, ur benched.

Sorry this is messy af, I'm just having fun rn LMFAO

[bluejutdae]

Perv!Roommate Jeongin 2 | Jeongin x you

notes: sequel of this. I hate it, but eh. Might delete it in the future..

PervRoomate!Jeongin whose jealousy is slowly making him spiral out of control. Now that he has tasted you, the thought of anyone else getting too close drives him mad. When you go back home and talk about your day, he listens carefully for any male names that come up. Your coworkers, your friends, the guy at the coffee shop who paid for your drink… they’re all threats trying to take you away from him. So he starts to “accidentally” show up in places he knows you’ll be at. “Oh, you come here too?” and “was it tonight that you planned to come see a movie here?”

PervRoomate!Jeongin who, anytime he sees you talking a little too cozy with another guy, jokes saying you’re cheating on him, that you shouldn’t flirt with others. It’s an inconvenience for you, but you can’t deny the shiver that went through you from the possessiveness of his words. He starts manipulating you when you consider making plans. He looks at you like a puppy and convinces you to tell your friends you’re busy, guilt tripping you into staying home with him, because “I just miss spending time with you, jagi. Don’t you care about me?”

PervRoomate!Jeongin who has no remorse when he gaslights you, telling you agreed to watch that movie with him. And no remorse when he lies, pretending to be sick the moment  you’re about to go out with someone. How can you abandon your roommate-slash-fuck buddy when he feels like that? The same night, after he convinces you to sleep in his bed because he feels too cold, he smiles to himself. Once words about you being unavailable spread at work and among your friends, the competition will be destroyed. 

PervRoomate!Jeongin starts to leave marks on your body, where they’re most visible. Hickeys on your neck, a bite mark on your shoulder. It’s his way of marking you, another proof that you’re his and no one else’s. He gets a twisted satisfaction from seeing the marks he left on your skin. And the display of ownership doesn’t bother you too much. It’s just something silly, right? It’s not real ownership.

PervRoomate!Jeongin who plays the victim any time you two argue, and he makes you feel guilty. “I was only looking after you. That skirt was really short. You know how many perverts are on the train, right?” He’s pushy, yes, but he only wants you to be safe, right? Sometimes, after a fight, he seems so hurt by it. “I just care about you so much, can’t you see that?” Of course you can see it. And when he kisses you, you reassure him, you kiss him, and inevitably you spend the evening together in bed. 

PervRoomate!Jeongin always fucks you harder after a fight, more possessive, and more marks litter your body the day after that. A collar of bruises on your neck, a clear sign of STAY AWAY FROM HER, clear to everyone but you. When he has you on your knees, fucking you from behind, with you back pushed against his chest, he whispers “you’re mine. All mine. No one else can have you like I do.” But you never worry, people say all sorts of things while having sex, and you’ve always loved some dirty talk.

PervRoomate!Jeongin that, now that has access to your body, your attention and your underwear drawers, wants more. “If we’re both single by the time we’re thirty, we should get married”. But if things go his way, neither of you will be single…

[just-aake]

Love in Red

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Summary: The color red means something different when it is about Natasha.

a/n: Not exactly a sequel but this short fic is related to Marry Me. 

Warnings: light angst/fluff

Words: 482

The color red is not associated with good things. In society, it can be used to mean caution, alarm, or danger.

The red sirens on police vehicles and ambulances indicate trouble.

The red brake lights on cars warn you to slow down and stop.

The red words on the emergency exit signs tell you to leave.

Red is a warning. 

But with Natasha, it becomes something more.

Red can be beautiful.

Especially on her.

The light crimson tint on her cheeks that is always followed by a roll of her eyes every time you shower her with flirty compliments.

The scarlet lipstick on her lips whenever they curl into her usual confident smirk right before she pulls you close and kiss you breathless.

The bright ruby symbol of the signature hourglass on her belt which your hands quickly remove from her body.

The dark auburn hair flowing through your fingers as she brings you to the highest points of pleasure and bliss.

The deep burgundy marks that she leaves all over your body after spending yet another night together.

Then she slips away without a sound. 

Leaving you alone.

You should know better.

It’s as you said at the beginning.

Red is not associated with good things.

Like the way your faces grow red with frustration when you both argue about the other person’s safety.

Like the red dot that appears on your body during the mission before a burst of pain suddenly shoots through your stomach. 

Like the red of your blood on her hands as she applies pressure while crying out your name.

No, the color red has always been a warning.

A warning that you always ignore.

A warning of the dangers that come with being near a woman like her.

A warning of the way she only allows people to get close up to a certain point. 

A warning of the work and effort it takes to build a relationship with her. 

Any sensible person would give up and leave.

That was the whole purpose of the color.

To warn you away from her.

The next time the color red appears, it is behind your eyelids from the bright medical bay lights shining above you. 

Opening your eyes slowly, you see the lovely color again.

The auburn strands of her hair fall over her sleeping face laying beside you on the medical bed, a light rosy flush on her cheeks from the cold air in the room, and the crimson on her knuckles as her hand holds tightly onto yours.

Red is not supposed to be good.

Yet whenever you look at Natasha, the only thing you can see is how beautiful all of the different shades of red appear on her.

To you, red is not a warning.

It is a reminder to have patience.

After all, someone like Natasha is someone worth loving.

~~~~~~~ ⧗ ~~~~~~~

a/n: Thank you for reading!

[teegeewrites]

The new fic is here! This was one of the most fun fics I've ever written, and I hope whoever reads it enjoys as well!

Scent of Revenge - AO3

Mario was no stranger when it came to hard battles, which included a muscular gorilla obsessed with his ex-girlfriend and toys of his likeness as well as a powerful turtle-dragon king who repeatedly kidnaps the Mushroom Kingdom’s benevolent ruler and desires to rule over said kingdom. Every time, the plumber emerged victorious against them. However, this trial, while not as arduous as squaring off against mighty beings, presented its own challenge.

Physically, the opponent in question posed no threat, so Mario didn’t have to worry about any bruises or any other external aches. However, it tested him in a different way, even if it lacked the sentience to realize it.

It not so innocently sat in the middle of the round table. It had the shape and size of a standard vinyl record. Ripe red Yoshi berries smothered in thick syrup of the same hue spread across the off-white primary section. A golden-brown layer of graham cracker crust lay beneath it to complete its tantalizing image.

Although Mario has seen and eaten his fair share of cheesecake in his life, none had him as transfixed as the one in his presence. Unfortunately, his sight wasn’t the only sense titillated by the dessert’s elegant presentation. The sweet aroma it emitted, especially the berries, pleasantly tickled his nostrils and caused him to involuntarily sniff quite a few times. This potent assault on his senses made his mouth drool and stomach grumble in anticipation. He was certain the accursed thing would’ve blown a raspberry at him if it had a tongue.

Mario chuckled to himself as he thought about how he was reacting. Princess Peach’s confectionary creations always had this effect on him, so he’d like to think he’d be used to them by now. Nonetheless, here he was in awe of yet another sugary concoction. When she invited him to the castle to sample her latest endeavor, he could’ve rivaled Sonic with how fast he arrived. Now, here he sat, exerting as much self-control as he could muster while awaiting her return. If he were Wario, the whole thing would already be sitting pretty in his stomach. However, he would never consider doing such a thing to Peach. No matter how tempted he was, he wouldn’t lay a finger on the cheesecake until she came back.

Fortunately, the wait wasn’t long as she appeared with some plates, utensils, and a large knife. He smiled as she cut two generous slices with the knife and placed them on their plates. He internally celebrated his victory against the strong temptation, for his tenuous patience was about to pay off. However, he would have to wait a little longer because of his self-imposed rule of waiting until the princess finished her first bite before even thinking about picking up his fork.

Peach smiled genteelly at him before cutting a piece of her slice with a fork and elegantly wrapping her peach-colored lips around it. She placed her free hand on her cheek after swallowing the piece and moaned softly as a blissful close-eyed smile formed on her face.

“I’ve never been one to toot my own horn, but I think this is delicious,” Peach opened her eyes and smiled softly towards Mario. “However, I am more interested in what you think of it, Mario.”

Not needing to be told twice, Mario nodded before cutting a large portion of his slice. He made sure to grab a berry because he wanted to taste everything. He smiled at Peach before placing his fork in his mouth. His eyes widened in awe as he swallowed the portion. He marveled at how creamy and dense the cheesecake was. It had the right amount of tartness he believed a cheesecake should have, and the sweetness of the berries and syrup provided a delicate yet effective balance. In other words, this cheesecake was divine.

“I must say, Princess, this has to be the best cheesecake I have ever tasted!” Mario grinned. “You may have outdone yourself with this one!”

Peach’s cheeks gradually took on the same hue as her dress as she unsuccessfully tried to prevent a smile from forming on her face. “Why, thank you, Mario. To be honest, this endeavor intimidated me. I heard how difficult making a cheesecake can be, so I was afraid it would be a disaster. The Toads who tasted my first attempt thought it was good; however, I know they would praise anything I made, even if it was a rock boiled in water. Hearing you laud my effort, however, means a lot to me.”

Mario’s cheeks gradually warmed at Peach’s comments as he briefly looked down at his lap. He lifted his head as soon as he felt his face return to normal and grinned. “Thank you for the kind words, Princess. You are the best baker I know outside of my nonna and mama, so I knew I was in for a treat when you invited me over to try your cheesecake. Trust me, I know how frustrating making one of these things is! I burned my first attempt and never tried to make another one again. I wasn’t exaggerating when I said this is the best cheesecake I’ve had the pleasure of eating. In fact, I'm already looking forward to seconds!”

He grabbed his fork and devoured the rest of his slice in record time, which elicited the bell-sounding tone of Peach’s laughter. After finishing their second slices and engaging in some conversation, Peach placed a hand over mouth as she poorly tried to contain a giggle.

“Is something funny, Princess?” Mario asked with confusion.

“You have some crumbs in your mustache,” Peach giggled.

“Oh, is that so?” Mario smiled playfully as he reached for a napkin. “I guess I better take care of that real quick!”

“Mario, wait! Allow me to wipe them off,” Peach volunteered as she rose from her seat with a napkin in hand. She approached Mario and meticulously wiped away the offending crumbs from his mustache. A rush of blood trickled towards Mario’s face during the cleaning, and he released a held breath after Peach was finished.

“There, crisis averted! The hero’s mustache is all clean!” Peach grinned cheekily.

Mario chuckled in response, which made Peach chuckle in return. Peach’s face, however, became more serious as she gazed into his eyes before grabbing his cheeks. Mario’s heartrate picked up its pace as he returned the gaze. Mario then thought he was hallucinating because it appeared that Peach’s eyes gradually shifted down towards his lips. The next thing he knew, her face inched towards his, causing a bunch of alarms to sound off in his head.

“Um, Princess,” Mario gulped, causing Peach to stop for the time being, “not that I’m being ungrateful or anything, but what are you doing?”

Peach grinned with seductive playfulness, making him gulp even louder. “Don’t worry, Mario. Your question wasn’t rude at all. To answer it, I believe my hero deserves a second treat. I guarantee this one will be just as sweet if not sweeter than the cheesecake.” She closed her eyes and puckered her lips before continuing to inch closer to his face.

Peach’s insinuation did not fly over Mario’s head, and that caused his heart to act like an unruly prisoner trying to break out of its cell. His face rapidly heated up, and beads of sweat danced on his forehead. He had conflicting feelings about the predicament he found himself in because while he sat frozen in his chair in nervous anticipation, this was also something he dreamed of happening ever since he met the princess. He eventually relaxed his shoulders and closed his eyes while awaiting his second dessert…

~~~

“OWWW!”

Mario woke up to something slapping his cheek hard. He massaged the tender spot and glared in the direction from which the sharp blow came. There sat Luigi, slumped on the couch snoring away with an arm flailing loosely. Mario shook his head in disbelief while chuckling to himself knowing who the culprit was, for this was far from the first time Luigi inadvertently struck him while asleep.

Speaking of sleep, Mario realized the interaction with Peach in the garden was merely a dream. He was annoyed and disappointed at first, but that quickly gave way to a lamentable smile forming on his lips.

“This always happens at the best part,” he murmured humorously to himself. “I can’t even get lucky in my dreams.”

After laughing about his poorly timed luck, he recognized the television was still on airing an infomercial. He smiled as he remembered that he and Luigi were watching a movie together and must have fallen asleep at some point. He rose from the couch and turned off the TV before reclaiming his spot next as the dream replayed in his mind.

“Hee-hee, cut it out, Daisy! That tickles!” Luigi’s groggy voice brought Mario back to reality. His brother was clearly dreaming about Princess Daisy and from the smile on his face, it was certainly a happy one.

“At least I’m not the only one dreaming about a princess,” Mario laughed quietly to himself as Luigi continued to talk about Daisy in his sleep.

As Mario continued to be amused by his dozing brother, he noticed something peculiar on Luigi’s face. He had an idea what it was at first but leaned closer to get a better look. There was no mistake about it: Luigi’s face was covered with orange kiss prints, with his nose having the most.

It took Mario a herculean effort not to laugh out loud as not to wake Luigi up from his slumber. He knew only one person who painted her lips orange and from that deduced who did this to his brother. He quickly placed a hand over his mouth to stifle another bit of incoming laughter that threatened to escape.

A quick glance at his hand upon removing it made him furrow his brow in confusion. A few pink spots were on his fingers, and a pink smudge sat in the middle of his palm since it was the same hand he rubbed his cheek with earlier. He had a notion what the pink marks were; however, he wanted to confirm them first. He raced to the bathroom and looked in the mirror. Sure enough, there were multiple pink kiss prints all over his face, including a few smudged ones from his earlier actions, causing him to smirk at his reflection. Unlike Luigi’s, however, the ones on his face were placed in a delicate heart pattern, excluding the one dead smack in the middle of his nose. He was disappointed at first that one wasn’t on his lips but smiled in relief since he wanted to be awake should that moment ever come. He chuckled heartily, knowing how meticulous and graceful the person responsible was, before leaving.

Luigi was still blissfully dozing away when Mario returned to the living room. As much as he regretted doing so, he roughly shook Luigi’s shoulder to wake him up. Luigi reacted by groaning then stretching and yawning before staring at Mario with his eyes halfway open.

“Mario, what’s going on?” Luigi moaned irritably. “I was getting to the best part of…”

Luigi’s voice trailed off as his sleepy eyes fully widened. Any traces of sleep vanished from his face, and his eyebrows almost disappeared under his tousled hair.

“Um, Mario. Pardon me for asking, but why do you have a bunch of kiss marks on your face?” Luigi chuckled as his lips stretched into a smug smirk. “Did the princess visit and the two of you make out while I was asleep?”

Mario flinched as his face burned at Luigi’s teasing inquiry. He certainly wouldn’t object to such a thing happening, but it wasn’t true. A quick look at the orange kiss marks on Luigi’s face helped him recover, and he returned the smug smirk.

“I wouldn’t be talking if I were you,” Mario teased. “You should worry about your own face before commenting on mine.”

Luigi cocked an eyebrow. “Mario, what are you talking about?”

“Go look in the mirror, and you’ll see!” Mario chuckled.

Luigi’s brow furrowed before he shrugged and made his way to the bathroom. An astonished shout echoed throughout the house a few seconds later, causing Mario to laugh so hard he nearly hit the floor as he plopped on the couch. Tears flew from his eyes as his laughter continued when Luigi returned.

“Go ahead, chuck it up!” Luigi stood with his hands on his hips before joining Mario on the couch. He sighed as he ran his hand through his hair.

Mario placed a hand on Luigi’s shoulder after his laughing fit ended. “Well, Luigi. It appears we had some visitors while we were asleep.”

“I didn’t know Daisy was in the Mushroom Kingdom,” Luigi shook his head.

“Did you forget that the princess told us Daisy was visiting for a week? She arrived yesterday.”

“It must have slipped my mind,” Luigi rubbed the back of his head. “I would’ve looked forward to seeing her again. Back to the topic at hand, I can’t believe they did this to us! They could’ve at least woken us up so we could enjoy it!”

“Yeah,” Mario nodded in agreement. “I bet you anything this was Daisy’s idea! I doubt the princess would come up with something like this on her own.”

“Well, she has kissed you a few times while you rested after rescuing her,” Luigi grinned, making Mario’s cheeks burn some. “But they were just once and out of gratitude. They were nothing like this! With that said, I completely agree this is something Daisy would come up with!”

“We’re not going to sit back and let this slide are we, little brother?”

“Definitely not, but how are we going to get them back?!”

“Good question,” Mario rubbed his chin. “One thing’s for sure: leaving kiss marks on their faces while they’re asleep is out of the question.” The brothers shared a laugh over that.

A few minutes later after flipping through some scenarios in his brain, Mario’s eyes lit up as a light bulb turned on in his head. He smiled widely as a clear picture of his idea formed in his mind.

“I take it you came up with something?” Luigi chuckled with a smile of his own.

“You know me too well, Luigi!” Mario returned the chuckle.

“So, spill the beans! I need to know what it is!”

Mario laughed at Luigi’s excited anticipation. “Don’t worry, little brother. I’ll tell you in due time. I even know when to put the plan into action.”

Luigi’s eyebrows popped. “When would that be?”

“I just remembered something,” Mario smiled. “The princess told me that she, Daisy, and Toadette will be spending all day in Bubblaine tomorrow for a girl’s getaway. That means they won’t be in the castle during that time. Surely, we can do something then, can’t we?”

“Now I’m even more interested!” Luigi rubbed his hands together with a mischievous smile. “At least give me a hint at what you have in mind.”

Mario placed a hand on Luigi’s shoulder. “First, we’re going to pay Minh T. a visit…”

~~~

After wiping the kiss prints from their faces, much to Luigi’s displeasure, Mario and Luigi left their house on their way to visit Minh T. During their trek, Mario filled Luigi in on his plan to avenge the princesses' prank, making Luigi’s eyes widen a few times.

“Mario,” Luigi began with concern in his voice, “not that I’m doubting you or anything, but are you sure we’ll be able to pull something like this off?”

“I want to say absolutely,” Mario answered truthfully. “However, we’ll get our answer after speaking to Minh T.”

Luigi looked at the sky with a furrowed brow. “Even if Minh T. says she could do what we’re going to ask her, you know Toadsworth won’t approve of such a thing.”

Mario skidded to a sudden stop at Toadsworth being mentioned. “Mamma mia, I forgot about him!”

Luigi was right that there was zero chance the royal advisor would allow what they had in mind. Not only would he admonish them for considering such a thing, but he would also reacquaint them with his cane a few times for good measure. Although Mario has been hit by harder and more powerful attacks, he has unpleasant memories about that cane striking him, and it was something he didn’t want to experience again if he could help it.

Mario rubbed his chin as he mulled over how they would execute their plan without Toadsworth being the wiser of it. It was something he overlooked while thinking up this plot. He breathed in relief as a smile gradually stretched his lips, for he recalled something about what Toadsworth would be doing tomorrow. His relaxing posture did not go undetected by Luigi.

“So,” Luigi began with a curious gaze, “you have an idea on how we’re going to sneak this past Toadsworth?”

Mario’s smile grew wider as he addressed his brother. “Luigi, we won’t have to worry about Toadsworth after all!”

“Why not?”

“Because he won’t be at the castle, either! He’ll be visiting Little Fungitown assisting the Toads who live there with something.”

“Whew, that’s a relief!” Luigi rubbed his forehead. He then frowned. “Still, the council Toads will certainly object.”

“I wouldn’t worry too much about them,” Mario assured Luigi. “They hold us in high reverence and know we would never do anything that would deliberately harm the princess.”

“If you say so,” Luigi sighed. “I guess our main concern is Minh T.”

“Yeah,” Mario nodded his head in agreement. “Let’s find out if she’ll be able to help us.”

The brothers resumed their trek towards the little garden area across the street from the post office where Minh T. usually hangs out. Fortunately, she was there, watering the flowers surrounding the Flower Fields gateway while cheerfully humming to herself.

“Hey there, Minh T.!” Mario waved as he and Luigi approached her.

Minh T. flinched before turning her head and seeing the Mario brothers approaching. A bright cheery smile lit up her face as she rose to greet them. “Hey there, Mario and Luigi! How are you two doing?!”

“Splendid!” Mario matched her energetic spirit.

Minh T. nodded in acknowledgement. “So, what brings you two here?”

“Well,” Mario began, “Luigi and I want to know if you can help us with something.”

“Mario, you know I’ll try to help any way I can! After all, you’re the one responsible for making my dream of having these beautiful flowers bloom here a reality! So, what do you need from me?”

“Well,” Mario rubbed the back of his head as he felt his cheeks get warm from Minh T.’s compliment, “it’s a huge request, so I understand if you’re unable to do it.”

“Tell me what you need, and I’ll see what I can do,” Minh T. encouraged Mario with a small smile.

Mario sighed as he told her what he needed from her and asked if it was possible. The Toad furrowed her brow as if she were in deep thought, clearly taking in everything he told her. He gulped nervously, wondering if his request was too much. A minute passed before she addressed the Mario brothers.

“I’m going to be honest with you, Mario. What you ask of me is not something that will be easy to do, especially in such a short time frame.”

Mario nodded in somber understanding. Maybe it was presumptuous for him to think he could pull something like this off in one day. Luigi placed a hand on his shoulder with an understanding smile, which he returned. It was worth a shot, but he saw his plan to pay the princesses back evaporating faster than the steam from Princess Peach’s teapots. He would have to think of another idea, one more feasible. He was about to thank Minh T. and return home when a huge smile formed on the Toad’s face.

“However, it doesn’t mean that it’s impossible! This will certainly need assistance from Wise Wisterwood and the other flowers in Flower Fields. I’ll ask them if they can help us. Wait right here; I’ll be right back!” She then entered the gateway to Flower Fields, the door closing immediately afterwards.

“Hey, Mario,” Luigi nervously rubbed his hands together, “do you think Minh T. can convince Wise Wisterwood and the others to help us out? This is a rather ambitious request.”

“We’ll just have to wait and see,” Mario replied with cautious optimism as he placed a hand on Luigi’s back.

A few agonizing minutes later, Minh T. emerged from the gateway with a neutral expression on her face. His fists clenched in nervous anticipation, Mario wasn’t sure if it meant she returned with good news or not. He didn’t want to jump to gun so to speak, so he waited to hear what the Toad had to say. His nerves began to ease when her lips stretched into an assuring smile.

“Great news, guys!” Minh T. beamed. “They’ll be able to help you! Wise Wisterwood immediately accepted when I told him it was a favor for you! He said it was the least he could do after you defeated Huff N. Puff and helped restore peace to Flower Fields.”

“Woo-hoo!” Mario jumped with enthusiasm, making Luigi and Minh T. chuckle. “Thank you so much, Minh T.! We owe you big time for this!”

Minh T. rubbed the back of her head as her cheeks turned a light pink. “Aww, it’s nothing, guys. As I said earlier, you helped me bring this garden to life, so consider us even. He told me he and the flowers will have everything ready by tomorrow morning. Come around by then, and everything should be prepared.”

Mario nodded before bending down and giving Minh T. a grateful hug, causing her entire face to match the color of Peach’s dress. “We’ll be here by then! Once again, thank you so much!”

“Again, you’re welcome, Mario!” Minh T. returned the hug.

“Well, Luigi,” Mario addressed his brother after he and Minh T. broke their hug. “It looks like everything worked out, after all!”

“I guess it did,” Luigi nodded. His tummy then started growling, which made Mario and Minh T. snicker. Luigi chuckled in embarrassment when Mario’s abdomen made loud rumbling sounds of its own. “It appears I’m not the only one hungry here,” he teased his older brother.

“Yeah, yeah,” Mario feigned irritation as he rubbed his midsection while trying to fight off a chuckle. “So, what are we eating? I want to try out that burger joint that recently opened at Toad Town Mall.”

“I was thinking the same thing,” Luigi smiled. He turned his attention to Minh T. “Do you want us to bring you back anything, Minh T.?”

“No, I’m fine,” Minh T. replied. “I made my own lunch today. Thank you for offering, though.”

Mario placed a hand on Luigi’s shoulder, which Luigi imitated. “In that case, I guess we’re off. See you tomorrow morning, Minh T.!”

“Sure thing!” Minh T. smiled brightly.

The Mario brothers waved goodbye to Minh T. as they made their way towards Toad Town Mall, with the Toad returning the wave. Mario couldn’t keep the huge grin from his face during the trek, even when Luigi constantly teased him about it. He was looking forward to tomorrow.

~~~

Mario sat up in his bed with a jolt in the wee hours of the following morning thanks to a text notification from his phone. He rubbed his heavy eyelids before grabbing the phone and reading the message. It was from Peach letting him know that she, Daisy, and Toadette were on their way to Bubblaine. He texted her back wishing her safe travels and hoped they enjoyed themselves. She instantly replied with a thank you as well as a pink heart and a winking kiss face emoji, which made his cheeks warm as he put the phone down back on his nightstand.

Since he found it difficult to go back to sleep, he hopped out of bed and gently opened the blinds to peek outside. He grumbled to himself as the sun was nowhere in sight. Despite his copious energy, Mario was never much of an early riser, so he fought off the irritation threatening to explode from his body. He figured a cup of coffee, and a quick bite would improve his mood; hence, he traveled to the kitchen to prepare his light breakfast. He thought about waking Luigi up but although his brother was definitely the morning person between them, he decided to let him sleep for a little longer.

A couple of hours later while watching TV, he received another text message. He opened his phone and saw that this one was from Minh T., informing him that his packages were ready for pick up. His lips curled into a huge smile as replied to the text, telling her he and Luigi would be there shortly. As soon as he sent the message, he hopped off the couch and raced upstairs to Luigi’s bed.

“Luigi, get up!” Mario heavily shook Luigi’s shoulders. “Our packages are ready! We have to go get ‘em!”

Luigi groaned as he opened his eyes. “Ugh, give me a moment, Mario.” He slowly sat up as he blinked himself awake. “I’ll be dressed in a few minutes.”

Mario nodded before returning downstairs. Since Luigi was slower than him when it came to getting ready, he figured it would be at least a half hour before they left. That would give him enough time to watch at least one more show, so he sat in his previous spot on the couch and returned his attention to the TV. As soon as the show concluded, Luigi dashed downstairs and grabbed a piece of toast Mario had made earlier from the kitchen table.

“OK, Mario. I’m ready!” Luigi uttered in between bites of toast.

Mario smiled as he turned off the TV and rose from the couch. He and Luigi grabbed their hats from the rack next to the door and left to meet up with Minh T.

The image of Minh T. standing in front of two boxes that rivaled the size of the average Toad house with a jubilant smile on her face greeted the brothers upon arrival. She waved them over, which caused them to put more pep in their steps.

“Hey guys!” she welcomed them. “So, what do you think?!”

“Minh T., this is absolutely perfect!” Mario beamed with a huge smile. “You’re the best!”

“Aww, shucks!” Minh T. blushed. “I’m happy I could be of help.”

Mario placed a hand on her head in appreciation, making her blush deeper. He immediately removed it upon noticing her reaction, and his cheeks warmed. He chuckled as he rubbed the back of his neck. “Heh-heh, sorry about that! I guess that’s a habit I got from the princess.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Minh T. assured him. “Speaking of the princess, I’m sure she and Princess Daisy will be thrilled with their gifts!”

Mario and Luigi chuckled from guilt, for they knew they didn’t tell her the whole truth about what the items inside the boxes are for. “Yeah, they’ll be surprised, that’s for sure!” Mario said. “Well, we’ll be taking these out of your hands now. Give our thanks to Wise Wisterwood and the others!”

After equipping the Shrink Badge, Mario gently leapt on the two boxes so as not to crush them, shrinking them down to a manageable size. He and Luigi picked them up and waved goodbye to Minh T. before carrying them towards the castle.

Upon reaching the castle’s main door, they let the guards know they were delivering a surprise present for the princesses. The guards acknowledge the reason for their visit before opening the doors for them. They checked the boxes in the main lobby to make sure they had the right ones before heading towards the princesses’ rooms.

Mario was fortunate to run into a maid who was about to lock Peach’s room. He stopped her and let her know he was dropping off something for the princess. The maid was apprehensive at first since she had strict orders not to let anyone in the room without permission from either Toadsworth or Peach herself. Mario, however, convinced her to grant him this privilege this one time. Since he was the Mushroom Kingdom hero and a close friend of the princess, the maid acquiesced and allowed him to do what he needed to do.

Minutes later, Luigi met Mario at the center of the lobby and grinned mischievously while giving Mario a thumbs up.

“Well, mission accomplished!” Mario laughed. “I would love to be a fly on the wall when they come back tomorrow!”

“Hopefully, they won’t treat us like bugs and try to squash us!” Luigi echoed the laughter. “So, what you want to do now?”

Mario thought for a moment before an idea sprang to mind. “Remember Tayce T. asked us to replace her kitchen faucet when we bumped into her at Toad Town Mall yesterday?”

“Now that I think about it, I sure do,” Luigi affirmed.

“Great, that’s settled!” Mario smiled. “We better head home and get our tools first.”

The brothers nodded at each other before leaving the castle. Mario didn’t know what awaited him when the girls came back from their outing, but he was proud to return the favor for what they did to him and Luigi twenty-four hours earlier.

---

“Man, that was a lot of fun!” Peach exclaimed happily as she, Daisy, and Toadette entered the castle lobby. “It’s been a long time since I remember feeling this refreshed!”

“Tell me about it, sister!” Daisy beamed. “Those spas in Bubblaine are elite! Heck, they give the ones in Sarasaland a run for their money! Our skin and hair have never looked or felt better!”

“Let’s not forget about the food!” Toadette chipped in. “I heard great things about the Luncheon Kingdom, but the dishes in Bubblaine have a great reputation for a reason, especially their seafood!”

“No kidding!” Daisy agreed while rubbing her stomach, making Peach and Toadette laugh. “I think I put on at least fifteen pounds alone from this trip!”

“Considering that you ate more than Toadette and me combined, it wouldn’t be surprising at all,” Peach smirked.

Daisy fake pouted before crossing her arms and turning her head. “Gee, thanks for the words of encouragement, Peach!” However, her pout quickly gave way to laughter, which made Peach and Toadette join her.

“As fun as this outing was, I’m exhausted!” Toadette yawned. “I think I’ll head home and try to get some rest. Thanks for inviting me, Peach and Daisy!”

Peach kneeled down and hugged the pink Toad. “Anytime, sweetie! Thank you for coming with us.”

“No problem, Peach! I’ll see y’all later!” Toadette received a crushing hug from Daisy after Peach finished hers. She quickly re-orientated herself before leaving the castle, causing Peach to smirk teasingly at Daisy.

“Don’t say a word,” Daisy returned the smirk. The princesses then giggled together before Peach unsuccessfully tried to smother a yawn with her hand.

“Toadette had the right idea,” she said. “I think I’ll get some rest too. The trip back takes a lot out of you.”

“I’m right there with you,” Daisy agreed. “As much as I want to give Mario and Luigi their souvenirs, I’m ready to catch some Z’s. Besides, it is late, so we can give them their gifts tomorrow.”

Peach nodded her head. “Well, I guess this is goodnight then. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Same here. Goodnight, Peach,” Daisy yawned. The princesses hugged each other before retreating to their rooms.

Despite the signs of sleep becoming more prominent in her body, Peach was still in an upbeat mood. As much as she loves running the Mushroom Kingdom and adores her people, she was glad to get away from her duties for at least one day. Spending quality time with two of her best friends only made everything better. She frowned a little knowing she would have to return to her responsibilities tomorrow, but she wouldn’t change anything for the world.

A tired smile formed on her face as she finally reached her bedroom. After absentmindedly running a hand through her purse, she grabbed her keys and unlocked the doors. What she witnessed made her eyes and mouth widen vastly and place a hand over her thumping heart.

Atop her four-poster bed stood a mountain of carnation pink roses stacked to the upper panel. Not a single inch went uncovered, and there appeared to be no threat of a single flower falling out of place. Despite the inconvenient sight, Peach was impressed by the creativity and structure, and a smile crept on her face in spite of her attempts to resist it.

“PEEEAAACH!” a loud familiar voice shrieked from the hall, snapping her back to reality. She turned around to see Daisy leaning at her door, huffing as if she ran the Yoshi Island marathon. Somehow, Peach held the laughter that threatened to escape from her lips in check.

“You won’t believe what’s…” Daisy began but stopped at noticing Peach’s bed. A smirk formed on her lips. “It looks like you were victimized as well.”

“Wait, you mean…” Peach started.

“Yep,” Daisy cut her off while chuckling. “I have a huge mountain of flowers on my bed as well, except mine are yellow daises.”

The laughter that Peach originally imprisoned broke from captivity and incredulously filled her room. Daisy placed a hand on her shoulder and added her laughter to the mix.

“Wanna guess who’s responsible?” Peach offered between laughs.

“Girl, we already know who did this!” Daisy hacked before regaining her composure. “Besides, I found this next to a vase of daisies on my desk. This clearly gives them away.”

She handed Peach an orange card with some writing inside. Peach read the card aloud:

Violets are blue, roses are red

Enjoy the daisies on your bed

My headstrong flower, best take heed

‘Fore on my face you plant your seed

- Luigi <3

Peach chuckled after returning the card to Daisy. “Well, at least it flowed nicely.”

“That’s my Weegee for ya!” Daisy said with some pride as she hugged the card. “With that said, let’s see if Mario left you something as well.”

Peach nodded as she turned her attention to her desk. Sitting right in the center was a pink vase filled with a few roses and a pink card leaning on the front. She immediately picked the card up and opened it. As with Daisy’s, she orated the writing, which was much sloppier than Luigi’s:

Ah princess, the sweetest fruit

I admit your prank was cute

But I return from the brink

To stack your bed with roses of pink

- Mario <3

“Did Luigi help him write that?” Daisy chuckled wryly.

“I wouldn’t put it past him,” Peach returned the chuckle. “Well, this was obviously payback for what we did to them yesterday.”

Daisy crossed her arms and huffed. “You’d think they appreciate it more. Most guys would repeatedly have Thwomps cave their heads in to receive what we gave those ungrateful jerks!”

“Now, now, Daisy,” Peach placed a hand on Daisy’s shoulder. “You have to admit we deserved this. Besides, I think it’s kind of sweet.”

“Oh Peach, I’m only kidding!” Daisy laughed. “We absolutely had this coming. I agree with you that it’s very sweet, all things considered. At least it was our favorite flowers.”

“True,” Peach agreed.

“However,” Daisy grinned impishly, “that doesn’t mean they will get away with this.”

Peach shook her head. “Oh, Daisy. We got them, they got us. We’re even now. Let’s leave it at that.”

“Yeah, maybe you’re right,” Daisy conceded with a sigh. “With that said, we can still have some fun with them.”

Peach cocked an eyebrow. “What do you mean by that?”

Daisy shared her idea with Peach, and Peach found herself agreeing with it. The princesses giggled among themselves after Daisy finished.

“It should be fun!” Peach said before returning her attention to her bed. Her brow furrowed at the roses. “Well, it looks like we won’t be sleeping in our beds tonight at least.”

“Hmm,” Daisy nodded. “So, what are we going to do?”

Peach pondered about their conundrum for a moment before a solution formed in her mind. “You know the furniture in entertainment center have pop-out beds, right? We can sleep there tonight and have the flowers removed tomorrow.”

“Great idea, Peach!” Daisy beamed. “That settles it! We can even watch a movie and pop some popcorn while we’re down there! I’m going back to my room and grab my sleepwear. I’ll meet you there!” She rushed out of the room with as much gusto as she entered.

Peach shook her head in amusement at her friend before going to her wardrobe to grab her nightgown. As she grabbed the soft pink fabric, she remembered something that gave her pause. Her fellow princess makes Bowser sound like a cat purring contently while visiting Slumberland. Her mind flashed back to when she thought an illegal kart drag race was occurring outside of her castle the last time she and Daisy slept in the same room. Chuckling to herself, she grabbed a couple boxes of earplugs before heading to the entertainment center.

---

Two days later…

“Luigi, you ready?!” Mario called upstairs.

“Almost, Mario! I need to grab one more thing!”

Mario sighed as he shook his head. Yesterday afternoon, Peach invited him and Luigi to a picnic with her and Daisy via letter. The brothers accepted the invitation, of course, but one thing that troubled him was there was no mention of the flowers he and Luigi left in their rooms. He wasn’t sure if the princesses were trying to get them back for it, so he planned to be on full alert in case they had anything plotted.

A minute later, Luigi emerged from their room and met Mario downstairs. Instead of his usual green shirt and cap and blue overalls, he wore a green short-sleeved buttoned shirt with white Bloopers spread across it over a white T-shirt, a pair of khaki shorts, a green visor with a green ‘L’ encased in a white circle, white high socks, and a pair of green sneakers. In his hand were a pair of green sunglasses.

“Looking good, little brother!” Mario pointed finger guns at him with a grin.

“The same can be said for you, big bro!” Luigi returned the gesture.

Mario looked down to check his attire, which was similar to Luigi’s except his colors were red instead of green, and his shirt had white mushroom power-ups instead of Bloopers. His sunglasses were perched atop his visor, which had a red ‘M’ in the middle.

“Hey Mario,” Luigi began, “where are we going to meet the princesses? Do they want us to pick them up from the castle?”

Mario shook his head. “The princess texted me a few minutes ago and asked us to meet them at the park. They reserved a section for us ahead of time.”

Luigi nodded, “OK, that means we can head straight there. Let me grab the macaroni salad and drinks real quick!”

~~~

Mario and Luigi kept their eyes peeled for the princesses upon entering the park. Mario smiled at the Toads and friendly Goombas and Koopa Troopas enjoying themselves. There were even three Toad families celebrating birthdays with some festivities. He was happy the weather was ideal for any outdoor activity.

“Mario! Luigi! We’re over here!”

A familiar voice broke Mario out of his appreciative gaze as he looked in the direction from which it came. Princess Peach was waving at him from a picnic area. Mario tapped Luigi on the shoulder and pointed where Peach and Daisy were. The brothers shared a quick nod before racing towards the table. Luigi had to be more cautious since he was carrying the bowl with the macaroni salad. They stopped a few feet short of the area, and Mario’s jaw dropped in appreciation of what awaited him.

Peach was wearing a soft pink sleeveless mini dress with a low neckline. The dress also showcased her long slender legs and hugged her body as if were an additional layer of skin. It was similar to her tennis outfit but more revealing; it appeared one can slightly see-through the fabric, which was some of a shock since Rosalina was the only woman who was more modest than Peach regarding their clothing. That didn’t mean Peach was afraid to show any skin, however. Completing the ensemble was a white sunhat with a pink ribbon around it over her ponytailed hair, gold dangling bracelets from her wrists, and a pair of pink wedge heel platform sandals.

After he returned to normal, Mario quickly checked on Luigi, only to see he was just as mesmerized as him, except his focus was mostly on Daisy. The Sarasaland princess wore an orange sleeveless crisscross blouse that displayed a healthy portion of her flat toned abs, a pair of white shorts that stopped at just above mid-thigh, an orange ribbon around her hair, and a pair of orange wedge heel platform sandals. Mario thought he saw drool form on the corner of Luigi’s lips, and he couldn’t blame him. Daisy was certainly showing more skin than Peach, which was nothing out of the norm for the girls.

“Hey boys!” Daisy approached and greeted them with a hug. Mario returned the hug with little issue. The same couldn’t be said for Luigi, however. It took him a few seconds before he returned Daisy’s hug.

His brain must have short-circuited seeing Daisy’s outfit, Mario snickered to himself. He shook his head from hypocritically thinking that because he had nearly the same reaction when he laid eyes on Peach.

Speaking of whom, she also approached and hugged him and Luigi. Mario was enthralled by her hair's strawberry aroma and the floral scent of her perfume. He complained inwardly when they broke the hug, for he wanted to get lost in her pleasant scents for a little while longer.

“Nice to see the two of you make it!” Peach flashed a huge bright smile, the one that never failed to make Mario weak in the knees. “You guys look great!”

“T-Thanks,” Mario stammered. “So you do two!” He mentally kicked himself for acting like a shy schoolboy talking to his crush for the first time. Luigi was the one who usually behaved in such a manner. Speaking of his brother, his snickers did not escape Mario’s ears, which made Mario chuckle to himself. He would get his revenge on him some time in the near future.

“Glad you seem to think so!” Daisy winked as she struck a flirty pose, causing her blouse to rise some. From the corner of his eye, Mario could’ve sworn he saw a trickle of blood threatening to drop from Luigi’s nose. The poor guy would be gushing a red geyser if Daisy kept this up all day.

“Oh, is that for the picnic?” Peach asked Luigi upon seeing the bowl he was holding. Luigi could only nod weakly in response before stretching his arms towards her. Peach took the bowl with an appreciative close-eyed smile and placed it on the table before returning. She did the same with the drinks Mario forgot he was holding.

“Again, I’m happy you two accepted my invitation to join Daisy and me on this picnic,” Peach addressed the brothers. Her smile then became perter. “We’ll start eating soon but before we do that, however, you know Daisy, Toadette, and I visited Bubblaine two days ago, right?”

Mario gulped heavily, for he figured this was the part where the princesses exact their revenge for the floral surprise that he and Luigi left them. Unable to speak at the moment because of his throat rapidly going dry, he only nodded his head in response.

“Well,” Peach continued, the smile never leaving her face, “during our time there we came across something that we thought both of you would enjoy, so Daisy and I purchased them and wish to give them to you now.”

Mario was caught off-guard since he thought Peach would mention their prank. However, fought off a smile when she told them she and Daisy got them something.

“Oh, you didn’t have to, you know,” Mario nervously rubbed the back of his head.

“You’re right, we didn’t have to,” Daisy interjected, making Mario frown. She then flashed a comforting smile towards the brothers. “But we did anyway because you two are very special to us. As much as Peach and I would love to bless you with them, you two have to shut your eyes first.”

“Wait, do we have to?” Luigi asked in a nearly whiny matter.

“No,” Daisy answered with a small smile. “but Peach and I want to surprise you.” Peach nodded in agreement. “So, unless there are any more questions, could you both please close your eyes for us?”

Mario blinked at the request and was about to raise an objection. When Peach and Daisy flirtatiously batted their eyelashes towards him and Luigi, however, he knew he didn’t stand a chance. Luigi already had his eyes closed, so Mario followed suit, chuckling along the way.

No sooner than he did, he felt something being placed around his neck. The next thing he knew, his visor was removed from his head and replaced with what felt like a round thing that perfectly fit his head shape. This item rubbed gently against his forehead, and a familiar fragrance entered his senses.

“OK, you can open your eyes now!” Peach’s voice sang perkily.

Mario didn’t need to be told twice as his eyes reacquainted themselves with the surrounding sights. He glanced down to see a wide oval-shape necklace made of large pebbles whose polished surfaces glinted prettily under the sun. He turned to face Luigi, who had a similar necklace around his collar, except his pebbles were green. However, something else made his eyes expand curiously. A well-crafted crown of daisies adorned his brother’s head in lieu of his green visor. Seeing Luigi wearing such a thing gave Mario a good notion of what was on his own head, and the thought made him grin despite himself.

“So,” Peach addressed the brothers, “what do you think?”

“Princess, these necklaces are wonderful!” Mario answered happily, with Luigi nodding in agreement. “It’s easy to tell a lot of care was placed in crafting these.”

Peach nodded in confirmation. “We discovered these beautiful multi-colored pebbles at the beach. A friendly Bubblainian noticed and offered to make jewelry from them. We were skeptical at first, but to gain our trust he created this gorgeous pendant from one of the pebbles right in front of us! That was enough for us to want to have some jewelry made. Daisy, Toadette, and I each had pendants made for ourselves, then we decided to have something created for you two.”

“Well, we certainly appreciate you keeping us in mind during your getaway,” Mario smiled. “By the way, I have a feeling I already know the answer, but how was it?”

“It was one of the best trips I’ve ever taken!” Daisy gushed as she leaped in the air. “This was my first time visiting the Seaside Kingdom, and I’ve read a lot of rave reviews about the place. Let me tell you, those reviews did not do it justice! There was so much to do, and the residents there were some of the nicest people you could ever come across. In fact, I’m ready to go back again. Say, why don’t the four of us schedule a future date to visit?”

“That sounds like a great idea!” Peach jumped in. “Mario, Luigi, what do you think?”

Mario shared a nod and grin with Luigi before returning his attention to Peach. “You know we’re down to go anywhere with you two, except Isle Delfino!” Everyone chuckled at Mario’s comments.

“Great!” Peach exclaimed happily. “I’ll have to check the calendar and see which date works the best for us!”

“Sounds good, Princess,” Luigi smiled. “I’m happy you two had a great time. Both of you deserve to get away once in a while.”

“Thanks, Weegee!” Daisy grinned cheerfully. However, her grin became gradually more impish. “Speaking of deserving, did you two notice the other thing we gave you?”

Sweat began to decorate Mario’s forehead because he knew this was where the hammer was about to come down. There was zero chance he and Luigi could deny their deed since they left enough evidence for the princesses to ascertain who was responsible.

“Y-Yeah,” Mario blurted out unconfidently.

“Peach and I have to admit your prank was clever,” Daisy stared, the grin never leaving her face. “To do it while we were away even more ingenious. Did you know how long it took us to clean everything up?” Mario and Luigi could only shake their heads.

“I’ll tell you,” Daisy continued, “it took us quite a while. Oh yeah, I should tell you Toadsworth was not too fond of your prank. It took all of Star Haven to stop him from marching to your home and greeting you with his cane upside your heads!”

“Hehe, thanks,” Mario chuckled nervously. “We appreciate that.”

Peach nodded before chiming in, “it wasn’t a total waste, however. We didn’t want to throw those beautiful flowers away, so we came up with ways to preserve them. Some were planted in the castle garden. Others were given away to the people. Also, we helped Minh T. plant a lot of them around the kingdom. We kept some for ourselves. Lastly, we created those crowns for you with the few remaining.”

“T-That’s nice to hear,” Luigi stammered.

“Although we couldn’t sleep in our beds that night thanks to you two, despite us admittedly earning it for what we did to you,” Daisy said, the last part of the sentence spoken quietly, “we like you so much we gave you two gifts instead of the one. Thank your lucky stars Peach and I aren’t completely vindictive!”

Mario and Luigi did nothing but nod. Daisy grinned again with a mischievous glint in her eye as she sauntered towards Luigi, making the younger Mario brother gulp. Her grin spread wider before honking his nose.

“Hey, what…”

A peck on the tip of his nose, leaving an orange kiss mark in the process, instantly silenced what was sure to be a protest from Luigi’s lips. Luigi’s face rapidly became crimson as a droopy-eyed grin spread across his face.

“You’re lucky you’re cute!” Daisy grinned huskily, to which Luigi could only weakly nod.

Mario shook his head while chuckling as Daisy gave Luigi a small hug. He continued to watch them when a pair of hands firmly placed on his shoulders turned him around. Before he could properly react to what was happening, those same hands gently cuffed his cheeks, followed immediately by the softest lips he’s ever felt quickly pressing themselves on the edge of his nose. His face felt like a volcano on the verge of erupting as his eyelids traveled halfway over his eyes.

“Although it was revenge for our actions, it was still a sweet gesture,” Peach spoke softly as her long silky soft fingers tenderly stroked Mario’s cheeks. A bright mirthful grin then flashed on her face. “It looks like we’re even now.”

Mario, like Luigi, only nodded feebly as he remained in a blissful state. If there was one weakness he and Luigi had, it was having their noses kissed, no matter how big or small the pecks. Both princesses knew this, and they weren’t above taking advantage of it when they felt like it. Nonetheless, Mario never complained, for he would never reject nor grow weary of such a thing. Besides, he knew the princesses loved them as well.

“Time for a group selfie!” Daisy’s energetic voice rang in the air as she disrupted the intimacy between Mario and Peach by grabbing their hands. The two of them shared a laugh as they along with Daisy and Luigi posed in front of Daisy’s phone being held by a selfie stick.

“Everyone, give me your brightest smiles! I don’t want to see anyone frowning!” Daisy jokingly admonished. “Ready?! Three…two…one!” A quick light flashed from the phone, indicating the picture being taken.

“OK, one more!” Daisy exclaimed cheerfully. She counted from three again before snapping another picture. This time around, a loud gasp filled the air during the flash.

“I’m sending everyone the pictures now!” Daisy informed everyone.

As soon as she pressed the send button, the familiar chime of the original Super Mario Brothers theme sounded on Mario’s phone. He took it out and opened the attachments from Daisy. The first picture had everyone smiling widely, and Mario chuckled when he saw he had a kiss print in the middle of his nose as well, except his was pink of course. A glance at the second picture had him trying his best not to sound like a hyena. What had him reacting this way was Daisy smooching a red-faced Luigi on the cheek and Luigi leaping with his eyes and mouth open as wide as humanly possible. He knew where the gasp came from at least.

“Did everyone get the pictures?” Daisy asked. The other three confirmed they did with a nod. “Good, because I’m starving! Let’s eat!” She then wrapped an arm around Luigi’s shoulder, making him blush again.

“Come on, sweetie! I hear you make a mean macaroni salad. I want to try it out!”

“Hold on, Daisy! No need to be so eager!” Luigi cried out as Daisy dragged him by the hand towards the picnic table, his heels skidding in the grass.

“That's one battle Luigi will never win!” Mario laughed to himself. A familiar pair of soft hands intimately grabbed his arm, causing him to almost get lost in Peach’s baby blue eyes.

“I’m feeling a little hungry myself,” Peach batted her eyes. “Will you care to accompany me to the table?”

Mario good-naturedly rubbed his chin. “Let me think about it for a second. You know I will, Princess!”

A soft mellifluous laugh flowed from Peach’s lips before she flashed Mario another bright smile that he thought could stand toe-to-toe with the sun. “Well then, let’s-a go before Daisy really gets going!”

“No need to tell me twice, Princess!” Mario laughed as he and Peach walked towards the table holding hands.

Mario reflected on the past few days up to the picnic. While there was a mini prank war between the battle of the sexes, it was all in good nature as neither side went out of their way to deliberately hurt each other. In fact, both pranks showed the respect and admiration each side had for one another. In the end, it could be argued that he and Luigi strengthened their bonds with the princesses when it’s all said and done.

He didn’t know what the future held, but he was going to live in the present and enjoy this moment with his brother and the princesses.

[corazondebeskar-reads]

the art of breaking: part two

the art of breaking, part two: theory of decay

very dark!Joel Miller x f!reader

NOTE: DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT. this fic contains themes of abuse and extremely dark content.

words: 10k

summary: joel knows just how to make you his forever. a sequel to "the art of breaking"

warnings (new warnings in red) and story under the cut; reader discretion is advised.

also on ao3

dividers by @saradika-graphics

warnings: dead dove do not eat, non-con, dub-con, very dark!Joel, BAD bdsm etiquette, not SSC/RACK compliant, sadist!Joel x masochist!reader, coercion, corruption, manipulation, isolation, gaslighting, glory hole, reader gives tommy a blowjob (joel and tommy do not touch), body modification, permanent marking, captivity, sadism, masochism, pain play, extreme punishment, whipping, impact play in general, mentions of vomit (no description), oral, vaginal, reader x other men, degradation, humiliation, Joel sees reader as property, inadequate aftercare, blink and you miss it piss "play," straight up abuse this time guys, overstimulation, forced eating, needles, voyeurism, objectification, human furniture/ashtray, cigarettes, consumption of non-food items, nipple/clit pumps, this one might be worse than the first idk sorry

Again, I cannot say this enough. This is a dark fantasy and should not be taken as representative of a good d/s relationship—it’s abuse masquerading. Just because I wrote it doesn’t mean I’m condoning it. 

Please read responsibly. 

i. dessication

When he goes to work, he leaves you free to roam the house and do your chores. For shorter trips out, he tends to put you in your cage. There’s no real reason, but it keeps you in a good place. You’re always softer, quieter when he gets back and lets you out. 

He couldn’t do it all the time, of course. There are things needing to be done. Plus, every day, he gets to come home to you knelt, waiting by the door with dinner kept warm. He could afford a housekeeper, but then you’d have nothing to keep your mind and body occupied when he’s away. 

Of course, sometimes he leaves you chained up in the basement. He can’t always be nice, after all. And the thing he loves to come home to most, second only to you kneeling at the door, is your exhausted body still tied where he left it, bearing the marks of his latest pleasure. 

Sometimes, he just leaves you in stocks to contemplate all the raw kisses from his favorite whip. Sometimes, he has you pinned to the table with a vibrator strapped to your clit for the day. On the lowest setting—he’s not a monster. 

Well. It starts on the lowest setting. He can do whatever he wants with it through a handy app. It was the only way Tommy could convince him to upgrade to a smartphone.

But today, you’re just set about neatening up. Neither you nor Joel are messy— though he does have a tendency to empty his pockets wherever he’s standing—and it’s not a huge house. You finish up early and have time to read while supper’s in the oven. 

You’re already kneeling when you hear the key in the door, eyes down, hands behind your back, but you have to tense up not to flinch when you hear a second pair of boots.

“Hey there, sweetheart,” drawls a voice you don’t know. 

The only reason you don’t panic is because Joel’s boots enter your field of vision. You’re intimately acquainted with them—literally—and despite the fresh layer of dirt, you’d know them anywhere. 

“Ooh, damn, she’s good,” says the voice.

Joel chuckles and reaches down to stroke your cheek. “Told ya.” 

You melt a little against his hand, letting the pride in his voice warm you.

He rubs his thumb over your cheek and lets you press a little kiss to the digit before stepping back to take his shoes off and dump the handful of change and crumpled receipts on the foyer table. “C’mon,” he says, snapping his fingers so you know he means you, too.

You resist the urge to look at the stranger, but you don’t like the way he lingers to follow you instead of following Joel. You can feel his eyes on your exposed flesh, the dress just short enough to show off your cunt when you crawl. 

No one has ever come into the house before. At least not when you’re out and about. You don’t know if Joel’s had company while you’ve been in the basement or something; you’ve never even thought about it. All you know is that it’s been a long time since you’ve seen another person. 

It’s terrifying. 

You go to kneel between Joel’s feet, but he stops you. “Turn around,” he says, guiding you with firm hands to face forward. 

He laughs when he sees that you’re still staring very carefully at the carpet. “Y’can look at him; he ain’t gonna bite.”

The other man, who has settled in the armchair facing the couch, laughs too. “I might,” he says.

“No, you won’t.” Joel’s voice goes hard for a moment, and you don’t need to see to know he’s glaring. 

It makes you feel better. So what if someone’s looking at you? Joel’s still protecting you. 

He lifts your chin up so you have to look at the other man. He’s broad, though not as much as Joel, with dark curls and dark eyes that make you feel like he wants to cut you open and see how you tick. 

“This is my little brother, Tommy,” Joel says. “Go tell him hello.” 

“Hello,” you say quietly. 

“C’mon, now, go give him a proper greeting,” Joel nudges you with his foot. You crawl over to Tommy and kneel between his legs. Your gaze darts from him to Joel, teeth worrying at your lip. 

“Don’t embarrass me, girl,” Joel warns.

Tommy lifts your chin with his hand. “He wants you to suck me off. Go ahead.” 

It’s nice, but it’s not his permission you need. You risk one more glance at Joel. 

“You heard him. You got two seconds, sweetheart, before you’re gonna regret it,” he growls.

“You goin’ soft? You usually have ‘em trained better by now,” Tommy teases, but his words have Joel seeing red. 

You sit back. “What?”

“Sorry, sweetheart, did you think you were special?” Tommy says with a nasty smirk. He pats your face. “Poor thing.”

You look at Joel, tears welling up. 

“What, you think I had a house full of equipment that’s never been used? Y’should be grateful. All my toys before you had to suffer some trial and error. I got it perfected now, and you’re wasting it, being a fuckin’ disobedient bitch.” 

You close your eyes tight and choke back a sob. He’s never, ever spoken to you like that before. When you turn back to Tommy, you have your mouth open wide and waiting.

He leans back. “Well? You gonna make me do all the work?”

“Can I use my hands, please?” you say, eyes darting from Tommy to Joel. 

“Great, now you got her all nervous,” Tommy bitches, and Joel rolls his eyes. 

“Go ahead,” Joel tells you gruffly. You’ve been so good. So obedient. Maybe he shoulda warned you that he wanted to show you off. No, he thinks, it’s not his fault. He didn’t owe you a warning. You should just accept it and obey.

You’re shaking when you tug open the button of Tommy’s jeans, fumbling with the zipper. Apparently, it takes long enough that he grunts and knocks your hand away, pulling his cock out. 

It feels like a trap. Joel has not explicitly ordered you to do this. But he doesn’t usually try to trick you. 

“For Christ’s sake,” Tommy snaps, and yanks you forward. You get with the program quickly, wrapping your lips around him and trying to do your best. 

He’s smaller than Joel, but it’s a decent cock. Not that it matters to you. Despite not having to gag on him, you can’t breathe anyway, too preoccupied. Why is Joel doing this? Is he going to punish you for it later? 

And the worst thing, the thing that keeps bouncing around your brain as you try to get Tommy off: What happened to the other girls? Did he get tired of them and kick them out?

Was he not going to keep you?

You don’t notice you’re crying, but Tommy clearly enjoys it. He moans and holds you down as he cums down your throat. You aren’t ready, though, and sputter a little, coughing and leaking his cum down your chest. 

“Jesus Christ,” Joel snaps. He gets up off the couch and yanks you away from his brother by the hair. “What the hell's the matter with you today?” 

“I’m sorry,” you cry. 

“Shut up,” he says, and drags you out to the place you visit in most of your nightmares, despite only having been there once in reality. 

The Pit. 

ii. consumption

When he comes to get you in the morning, you’re wrecked. Deflated, no more tears left to pour down your cheeks. For now, at least.  

The sun is against his back when he opens the gate, reaching down for you with one strong arm. Bathed in the golden light, he is every inch your savior, and when you’ve climbed out on shaky legs, you prostrate yourself at his feet the way he likes. 

He’s still mad, though, so he steps one filthy boot on your head and grinds your face into the mud. He pisses on it for good measure, the hot stream dripping down your hair and face onto the soil. 

He’s got a switch in one hand. With you effectively pinned in place, he wastes no time in swinging it down on your ass. 

You scream and sob as he beats you. When he finally stops, when he’s drawn every bit of his anger in welts against your skin, he lifts his boot from your head and squats down. 

“Why d’you have to make me do this?” He’s solemn, sorrowful. 

“I’m sorry, sir,” you say, focusing on controlling the hysterical sobs wrenching from your chest. 

You don’t know what will follow, so you remain still, not daring to move without an order. 

“I should drop you off at a fuckin’ whorehouse,” he mutters. He pulls you up by your hair, and you scramble to your knees. “You can learn to suck who you’re told to suck.”

“Please, sir, please don’t, please—” It’s too much. You stumble, sobs wracking your body hard enough that you can’t move. You collapse in the grass with his hand still holding your head up. 

He lets go, letting you fall. 

You crawl to his boots and kiss them, mud be damned. It wasn’t like you weren’t covered in it anyway. “Please, sir, I’m so sorry, please don’t—” you say between sobs. 

“Please don’t what? You think you’re in any position to be askin’ for anything?”

“Don’t get rid of me, please; I promise I’ll be better; I can be good.”

“I’ll think about it, if you can fuckin’ earn it.”

“Please, please let me try to earn it.”

He squats down and helps pull you to your knees in front of him, cupping your filthy face in both hands. “I don’t wanna send you away. You know I love ya. But if you can’t be good, then what’s the point, baby?”

Your sobs are subsiding out of the pure elation that comes from his gentle touch. “I’ll do anything,” you whisper.

“I know ya will. You don’t really have a choice.” He sighs, shaking his head. “I’m gonna get you fed and taken care of. But you’re about to have one of the worst days of your fuckin’ life.”

You choke on a sob and sway a little. The fear and the hunger are like a fog over your brain. 

“Hey. Listen t’me.” He holds your hands in one of his. “You’re gonna learn, and it’s gonna be real hard for ya. But at the end of it all— if you take it all like a good girl—you’ll be forgiven. Got it?”

You look up through tear-sodden lashes, lip quivering, and nod your head. 

There’s no part of you anymore that registers an issue. No warning bells, no red flags, no hair raising. 

You follow him to the bottom of the patio steps, where he nudges you to kneel back down, folding over so your face rests against the soil. You wait while he goes inside, unsure of how much time has passed until he comes back out with a plate of eggs, scrambled with cheese and little bits of sausage. 

That raises some alarms. Not to the way he treats you, but more of a signal for what to expect. It’s protein-heavy, which isn’t necessarily unusual, but it smells delicious. And there’s no way you’re getting to eat that after behaving so badly. 

You’re half right. He squats down next to you and scoops up a bite with the fork. You don’t take the bait; you know that’s not for you. 

He moans exaggeratedly when he chews, grinning all the while. And then he scrapes the rest off the plate into the dirt in front of your face. 

“Ah, ah. Not yet,” he says, and you close your eyes at the sound of his zipper being yanked down. 

“You get wet from that beating earlier?” he asks.

You nod, even though he’s already reaching down between your legs and shoving his fingers in your cunt. He brings back his shiny hand and strokes his cock. 

“Look at me, baby,” he says, shifting onto his knees so when you open your eyes, you’re faced with his fist pumping away at the red, angry head. “Coulda been you. Shoulda been, but bad girls don’t get what they want.” 

You whimper. It really does hurt your feelings, but you know you have nothing to say for yourself. 

“Open. Maybe you’ll get lucky, and get some fresh.”

You obey immediately, squeezing your eyes back shut as soon as he starts to cum. A little bit lands in your mouth, which you hold open.

“You can swallow that. But don’t eat yet.” 

He walks away, puttering around on the patio. You try to work up the nerve for his command, stomach churning. Maybe it’ll still taste fine. Maybe cold semen and dirt won’t ruin it that much. Maybe. 

If you hadn’t earlier, you believed him now about it being the worst day of your life. He certainly wasn’t starting out small. Sure, you’d eaten off the floor before, but inside the house. The house you clean, so you know how sanitary it is. 

But thinking about doing this makes you want to cry. And when he tells you to get started, you do cry. Just a little. 

“You got about six minutes,” he says, checking his phone for the time instead of the eternally broken watch on his wrist, “and there better not be a single crumb left. Get your ass up here as soon as you’re done.”

You’re not sure how long it takes you, but it must be nearly the whole six minutes, because by the time you’re knelt at his feet on the patio, he says, “Cuttin’ it damn close, sweetheart.” 

He’s playing fucking Candy Crush, legs kicked out on the little wooden table in front of him. He’s got you knelt at his side, and after a few minutes, he digs into his breast pocket and hands you a smushed carton of cigarettes. 

You draw one carefully out of the pack and extend it to him, letting go once he’s pinched it between his lips and pulling out the lighter. Carefully, you ignite the tip for him and tuck it back away. You go to give the carton back, but he shakes his head.

He pulls the cigarette out of his mouth to blow smoke. “Hang onto that for me. And this,” and he hands you his coffee cup. 

It’s not the first time he’s used you as a table. He tried using you as a footrest but found it less satisfying. You try to sit and work through your nerves, try to ignore the terror that he might not keep you if you can’t endure the day. 

It’s a good thing that he drained you of any concept of dignity long ago, cut you open, and let it ooze away like pus from an infection.  

“Open,” he says absently, not bothering to look away from his game.

Your eyes and mouth snap open, and he taps the cigarette against your lip, letting the ash fall onto your tongue. You jerk back a little but correct it immediately.

He quirks an eyebrow. “I’ll give ya a pass this time. But keep your mouth open, tongue out, and don’t fucking swallow.” 

He’s clearly happy to spend the afternoon like this. He goes through a second cigarette and still doesn’t let you swallow or spit. Your knees ache from the planks of the deck. 

He gets up and goes inside for a few minutes, taking his empty coffee cup with him. You don’t dare drop your position, though. 

When he comes back out, he hands you a bottle of beer, condensation already dripping. He resettles to watch the game on his phone. 

Anything resembling hope is trickling out. He hates watching things on the little screen, peering at it through his glasses. But he never smokes inside the house, so he’s resigned himself to this for the sake of your punishment.

It makes you feel less than the ash on your tongue. 

By the time it’s over, your mouth has long gone dry, itching with the ash of four cigarettes, when he stands up and stretches. He leans down and holds your chin before spitting in your mouth.

“There ya go. Swallow.” 

And you do. When you cough a little as the ashes cling to your dry throat, he pries your mouth back open and spits again. 

It helps a little. 

iii. dismemberment

You’d only been in the Pit once before. The first time was arguably your worst offense, which was good, Joel thought, that you still hadn’t topped that misbehavior. 

But as glad as you are that it hasn’t happened a lot, it means you don’t really know what to expect. When he brings you into the ensuite, you know this routine enough that you kneel on the shower floor, barely flinching when he turns only the cold tap, and the faucet sputters to life. 

He never gets in until you’re shivering, so while he gathers fresh clothes and towels, you scrub the mud from your body. When he checks and finds you satisfactory, he turns the knobs until the water runs warm. 

Your shivers don’t subside for a few more minutes, though. Not until you’re practically done cleaning him with the spongey loofah. Hot tears burn in the corners of your eyes, though only a few slip loose.

When he turns around and takes it from you, you thank him for letting you wash him. 

He gives you a smile, hand cupping your cheek.

“Of course, baby. Don’t worry. I’m going to help you remember how to be my good girl.”

But first, before he can follow up on the threat, he washes the mud and piss from your hair with gentle hands, massaging your scalp. You hold still, head tipped back, and let the tears come harder.

He notices but doesn’t comment. It’s normal now, when he takes care of you after a hard punishment. Or, in this case, in the middle of one.

You go to speak, to pour out your regrets and devotion, but he shushes you.

“I want you quiet ‘till I say otherwise,” he says. “Nothin’ outta you unless it’s an emergency. Got it?”

You nod, and he helps you to your feet, drying you with a soft towel and taking care around the raised welts on your ass. There will be some nasty bruises tomorrow, but when isn’t there? Your tits have mottled spots of yellow fading, and the shape of Joel’s hand around your throat basically never leaves. 

He gives your raw, burning skin a sharp smack, sending you off to put on the dress he’s laid out for you.

He tells you nothing, just leads you to the truck. The drive is quiet, apart from the crooning voice on the radio. It’s a bit of a drive, and you park in a broken-up lot surrounded by rusty chainlink fence. He grabs your hand and takes you across the street to a dilapidated building. A cheap banner is tacked above one of the doors. 

Joel hands a bill to a man, who opens the door just enough for you to squeeze in. It doesn’t take long to figure out where you are.

“Been a while since I brought you someplace nice, baby. Hope you like it, ‘cause we’re gonna be here most of the night.”

That’s the understatement of your life. He hasn’t taken you out of the house in over a year. You’re not sure you remember how to exist away from home, clinging to his arm as he leads you through the club.

You can’t decide what will be worse, but you don’t have to wonder for long when he drags you around to an empty stall. He’s not there to use a hole. You’re there to be one. 

He clips your collar to the wall with just enough slack that you could pull back to breathe if the person on the other side doesn’t let you. 

He takes the ring gag out of his pocket and dangles it in front of you. “You need this, or are ya gonna be good?”

“I’ll be good,” you say immediately, a phantom ache in the hinge of your jaw. 

“You sure? ‘Cause if you have to ask later or I have to make that decision myself, there’ll be hell to pay.”

“I’m sure,” you whisper. 

“Good.” He pats the side of your face, two sharp smacks in lieu of a caress. There will be no softness for you tonight. 

He waits to talk to you until your mouth is full. You look miserable, but you don’t hesitate. It’s not to the standard he’d usually require, but you’re both aware of the hours ahead, so he lets you pace yourself. 

He crouches down near you. “You like that? Some random dirty prick in your throat?” 

You, of course, can’t answer, but your eyes close against the hurt.

“It’s fucking disgusting. You think I want to let just anyone use you? I could fuck any hole I want. I could go out there and have every cunt and ass and mouth. You know why I won’t?”

Your eyes flick over to him, but you don’t try to answer, don’t stop what you’re doing. 

“Because they ain’t you, sweetheart. You’re my perfect girl. Nicest I’ve ever had. And if I got something this nice, and I don’t share it with my brother? You don’t even suck him off right? How do you think that made him feel, baby?”

He keeps it up, past the point where he feels like carrying on, but he can tell it’s wearing you down faster than the relentless facefucking. You’re starting to work your jaw, joints popping in between visitors, but even that doesn’t compare to the way you’ve started to shake when he’s scolding you.

“I know you’re tired, baby. I hope you remember this fuckin’ lesson because I’m not sacrificing two nights of sleep again to repeat it.”

You whimper around the stranger’s cock, which encourages them to fuck into you harder. But Joel knows the tears in your eyes aren’t from that. 

“Yeah, you were bein’ selfish, huh? I couldn’t fuckin’ sleep with you out there, and now I’m up all night with you here.”

There it was, he thought, watching you break. A little too early; it was going to be tough to keep you going. But nothin’ did you in like the thought of having hurt him in the process. 

And it was true. He never slept with someone out in The Pit. Too fuckin dangerous. He kept watch on a camera. He needed you scared and sorry, not dead. 

He watches as you choke down the stranger’s seed, looking like you might retch. He shuts the little sliding door for a few minutes and gives you some water. After you’ve rehydrated and seem a little less green, he opens it back up.

“Alright, get ready for the next round.”

In the truck on the way home, he keeps you tucked close to his side. Between the dark, empty highway and his coat wrapped around you, you start to doze off. 

He nudges you a little. “None of that now. Ain’t finished with you yet.”

You whimper, not in protest but in exhaustion. Despite how hard you try to fight it, you’re fast asleep when he pulls into the driveway. 

He thinks about waking you up anyway, to follow through on his word. He carries you inside and up to the bedroom, still deliberating, but when he tries to set you down on the bed, you cling to him desperately, even in your sleep. He manages to wriggle the coat off you and lays down beside you. He’ll just let you both rest for a little while.

You wake up, mid-afternoon, shaking all over. Joel awakens moments later, eyes wide as he tugs on your arm to roll you over. 

“Oh, baby,” he says, and moves to get out of the bed. “Knew I shouldn’t have let you go to sleep.”

But you grab onto him, lip trembling. 

He knocks your hand away. “I‘ll be right back, jus’ hold on.”

You’re curled into yourself, sobbing, when he gets back three minutes later. 

He hands you a water bottle anyway. “Sit up; you need to eat. It’ll help.”

Somehow, you find the strength to struggle and wriggle your body into sitting. He brings you to lean against his chest while he leans against the headboard. 

“Good girl,” he murmurs, a kiss pressed to your head. 

You start crying hard all over again. 

“I know. M’sorry. I should have talked to ya last night, huh? S’that what you’re all worked up about?”

You nod. There you are, sitting in his bed, when you hadn’t fucking earned it. But he doesn’t shove you off or hurt you for it; he just feeds you a protein bar and lets you sip at the water between bites. 

After he’s given you the last of the bar, he has you slide down to your knees by the side of the bed.

“What happened?” he asks.

“I disobeyed and embarrassed you.” 

“I didn’t ask you what you did wrong.”

“Oh,” you say softly, and have to think. “I didn’t understand, at first. That you wanted me to suck his cock.”

“And after you did?”

“I—” you don’t want to say it. You know he’s going to be mad. He doesn’t like when you question things like this.

“Is this because Tommy said you weren’t special? ‘Cause you know better.” 

“No, I just… why did you get rid of the others? What did they do?” 

“Oh, sweetheart,” he says, and cups your face in one hand. “I don’t think that’s anything you gotta worry about. Not anymore.”

“But how will I know how to do better?”

“You already are. None of ‘em ever made it this far. They talked big talk but couldn’t back it up. Some of ‘em didn’t want to give up the things you have, some of ‘em couldn’t handle my expectations. I told you, you’re the nicest thing I’ve ever had. You’ve let me make you exactly the way I want you to be.”

“Even though I was so bad the other night?”

“Yep. Because you took every consequence, and I know you’ve learned your lesson. And you’ll probably fuck up again someday. But if you keep wantin’ to be better, I’ll keep teachin’ ya.” 

You can’t help but cry again. You’re so tired and so tired of crying. 

“What, were you worried I was gonna replace you with some new young thing someday?”

You nod, and he clicks his tongue disapprovingly.

“I’m gettin’ old, sweetheart. I don’t want to keep breakin’ in toys that ain’t worth my time. I just finished puttin’ you back together exactly the way I like ya. You stay my good girl, and you’ll be mine ‘till I die.” 

It doesn’t stop your tears.

“Hey,” he says. “What do you need?”

It startles you. “What?”

“What do you need? What’s gonna make you feel better, baby?” 

You’re not sure when the last time you’ve had to think about something like that is. He’s been taking care of you for so long now. 

“Whatever you want,” you say. 

“No, baby, that’s not what I’m asking.”

“That’s my answer, though,” you realize. “I need to feel whatever you want me to.”

“God damn,” he whispers. “I fucked you up, huh?”

Your lip trembles.

“No, baby, I didn’t mean that in a bad way. It’s just kinda incredible. Jesus. How could you think I’d ever get rid of you? There’s not a fuckin’ bit of you that isn’t mine.” 

Your cheeks burn, so you bury your face into his palm and press a kiss to the center. 

“You want to know what I want, is that right?”

You nod. 

“I wanna fuck your pretty little mouth. And then I want to order us some fuckin’ takeout and eat it in the bath.”

It makes you smile just a little. 

“Yeah? That sound good, baby?” His thumb rubs against your cheek. 

“Yes, sir.”

“Alright, open up for me.”

You wrangle yourself into position. The initial weight and taste of him sends warmth through your bones for the first moment since he dragged you outside. 

It’s sloppy, the way he fucks your throat, in a way it usually isn’t. It’s always messy, but his thrusts are erratic. You can’t keep up with his pace because there simply isn’t one. It’s not long before he’s holding you down and pumping his cum down your throat.

It trickles down and cleanses everything in its path. You’re lighter, like you can breathe again. You thank him sweetly, pressing a kiss to his twitching cock. 

He’s panting, but strokes your cheek with one hand. “That’s my good girl. Feel better now that I washed all those other guys outta your mouth?” 

Technically, he had done that last night, had shoved three soap-covered fingers in your mouth in the gross club bathroom. Wretchedly, it had the side effect of making you nauseous, and he had insisted on doing it over after you threw up.

But this felt more pure to him, more consecrational in a way. The soap might have cleared the actual evidence away, but his come was your wine and wafer. 

“Yes, sir,” you say into the flesh of his thigh where your head rests. You kiss there for good measure, eliciting a pleased hum from him that sends you preening a little. 

He lays back on the bed, leaving a hand on the top of your head to stroke your hair while the other gropes around for his phone. “What do you want, baby? Lo mein?” 

“Oh, yes, please.” 

He feeds you noodles in the bath and then eats you out until you fall asleep. 

iv. reduced to bone

You’re on your knees in the basement, bent forward over a metal pipe placed at just the right height to nestle into your hips and keep them tilted up in the air. Stocks hold your head and wrists in place, tits hanging just below. The wood is slowly dampening as you drool around the ring gag. 

“Got a surprise for you, baby,” he had said when he led you down. “You know how you keep beggin’ me to hurt you worse, and I have to keep tellin’ you I’m not tryin' to wear you out?”

“Yes, sir?” 

“Well, I think you’re going to like this.”

That had been… well, you’re not entirely sure. A while ago, maybe, but your brain wasn’t the best judge of time right now. After he had secured you here, he had dragged out the little machine. It’s sitting under your torso somewhere, thin clear tubing stretching out like a web he’d caught you in. 

There’s no noise but the hum of it, which you’ve gone pleasantly numb to. The pressure is unending, each nipple and your clit being tugged into the tiny cups relentlessly. 

It tingles, just on the side of too gentle to be fulfilling on its own. That’s okay. You’re pretty sure you’ll be in delicious, mind-shattering agony soon. 

This you know because, well, it’s Joel, but also because of the tools he’s laid out on the little wheeled cart and left for you to stare at. 

A thin cane. Clover clamps with a length of chain. A tawse with a tapered, pointy tip. A wand. 

It makes you dizzy to look at. 

Also, you know because it’s a Friday night. Joel enjoys you however he likes any day of the week, but he’s careful about saving the deepest of his cruelties for Fridays. Because mind-shattering wasn’t really an exaggeration. When he gets like this, you sometimes don’t surface enough to take care of yourself for a day or two.

On those occasions, he never leaves you alone. Doesn’t want to, both because he loves when you need him that deeply and because you’re so soft and pliant. Truthfully, he thinks he could do anything to you then and you’d thank him for it. 

Which is why he’s got Tommy coming over tomorrow. It’s not that he thinks you need to be out of it to avoid a repeat of last time. He knows you learned your lesson and you’ll be good. 

But he’s got something special in mind that he needs help with. It’ll just be easier for everyone if you’re at your most agreeable. 

And yeah, you owe Tommy a blowjob. One of the ones that make Joel feel like he mighta died and somehow gotten through the pearly gates by the grace of your devotion. 

Plus, he’s pretty sure you’re going to love his plan, and he wants you unprepared, so you’ll cry real pretty and be truly desperate to show him your appreciation. It’s been on his mind since that night a few months back when you didn’t seem to believe him about never letting you go. 

He’s never fucking letting you go. There’s nothing in this world that could take you from him. He’s made sure of it. 

Sometimes, he has to remind himself that you don’t know you’re married. 

He thought about telling you that night, so you’d understand the depth of the commitment he’s made. But he doesn’t want you to take it the wrong way. Doesn’t want you thinking you need to act like a wife . 

He’d had a whole bucket of bullshit cooked up to excuse it, but when he told you to sign the paper, you hadn’t questioned it. Hadn’t questioned that you couldn’t see what it was, only the line where he pointed. You’d signed the fucking paper and never asked a goddamn thing. 

He was glad. He didn’t like lying to you. This was just one of those hoops to jump through in a world that didn’t understand what you shared. 

When he comes back down, your eyes are already glazed over. Your body shines with a thin layer of sweat, and your chest is heaving as you squirm. It’s gone beyond gentle. The waves of suction have you whimpering soft and high, barely louder than a breath, but nearly constant. 

He chuckles and strolls over, crouching down to wipe the sweat off your brow with the bandana from his pocket before it gets in your eyes. You give him a truly pathetic look, eyes wide as you drool helplessly. 

“Not so nice now, huh?” 

You whine. 

He strokes your cheek with an exaggerated pout before sliding two fingers into your mouth, pressing down on the back of your tongue. It tries to curl around them, eliciting another cruel laugh. 

“Jesus, girl. S’there anything that would stop ya from gagging for my cock?”

You shake your head. Even if you weren’t spread by the ring gag and choking on his fingers, you’re beyond speech. Too far deep. 

Joel actually doesn’t mind when you talk. He’s got no rules restricting your speech (well, most of the time). As long as you’re respectful, he likes the company. 

But he really likes when you go quiet like this. When he’s pushed you so far that you can’t . 

“Look at you, all worked up. We haven’t even gotten started, baby. You gonna be able to take it?”

You nod, whining, and he pulls his fingers out of your mouth and wipes them on your cheek. 

“What was that, baby? Couldn’t quite understand ya.”

Tears spring to your eyes as you whine again. 

“I’m just teasin’,” he says and kisses your forehead. “I got ya. I know you’re gonna be my good girl and take everything I fuckin’ want.”

He reaches down and tugs the tubing until the cups pop free of your breasts. You cry out, but it turns into a desperate moan when he tugs the one off your clit. 

Yeah, he coulda turned the pump off first so they just fell off, but where’s the fun in that? 

He’s grinning wickedly as he reaches back up to your breast. He barely, just barely, brushes over the side of your nipple, and the sound you make goes right to his cock. 

“Fuck, you’re so swollen.” He has to remind himself he’s playing the long game; he just wants to pinch and pull so badly. He’s pretty sure you’ll scream, even though normally it wouldn’t be much at all. 

But he wants to fuckin’ torture you tonight, so he’s going to drag it out. He wants you incoherent and beaten down when he’s done, so far gone you’ll stay there for days. 

So he’s gotta start soft. He drags his fingertip around your areola, not quite brushing the nipple but tracing the ring left behind by the cup. You twitch, shoulders jerking back, and he grips your breast. 

“None of that, now,” he croons, letting go and switching sides to torment your other breast. 

It’s holy, in that way you never quite understood. Not like the Jesus kind, though you never were much for church either, but in the way that people chase salvation through empty bottles and sharp needles. 

With the wand and the tawse, he breaks you down again and again and again. But that’s the thing about Joel. He reduces you to pain or pleasure or the delicious apex of both that brews between your thighs, and then he cleans you back up, puts the pieces back where he likes them.

He makes you come until you cry, and then, when you’re sobbing and exhausted, that’s when the night really begins. You’re twitching and jerking at the barest contact, writhing with every snap of the cane. 

It’s so, so good. Until it isn’t. But he’s running that damn mouth of his, that sweet, filthy mouth, and you can’t not take it. Your tears are gone, all run out; he likes to wring you dry. And he keeps rubbing his hand over your hypersensitive flesh, already raw and ruined, and murmuring soft words and sweet taunts. 

“Look at you,” he croons. “My pretty little toy. You’re so beautiful, suffering for me like this, baby.”

And so you do. You suffer for him. There’s nothing left in your little subby brain right now but Joel Joel Joel. 

You’re dry. He almost can’t believe it. The only time you’ve not been a sloppy, soaking mess was when he broke your finger. 

He whistles low and slow. “Shit, baby. Guess you have some limits after all, huh.” 

It’s impressive that you can even lift your head enough to shake it weakly. An overwhelming fondness washes over him. 

“ Aw. Takin’ it for me anyway, were ya?” He comes around and squats near your head, unhooking the gag and easing it out of your mouth. He rubs gentle circles on the hinges of your jaw as you whimper.

“Did so good for me, baby. Lemme get you outta there, and I’ll give you my cock.”

You shake your head, tears spilling over, but you don’t have a voice. The words don’t come together in your mind, just devastation.

His grip turns tight, forcing you to look at him. “No? You tellin’ me no?”

You shake your head again, lip quivering. 

“You don’t want my cock?”

You shake your head harder and try to reach for him, hands flexing where they’re bound in the stocks. Trying to make him see just how bad you want his cock. 

Luckily, he understands that much. “You wanna stay there? Baby, my knees ain’t gonna like fuckin’ you here.” But he can tell from the way your face crumples that he still isn’t quite getting it. 

“Are you tryin’ to tell me you want me to keep goin’?” 

You nod and he slaps you, a sharp strike that catches you by surprise.

“Stupid girl,” he says, scowling, and gripping your chin tightly between his thumb and forefinger. “I decide when we’re done. The whole point of this was not to ruin ya. This ain’t a punishment. Well, it wasn’t. Might be, next time.” 

He stands up, shaking his head. “Dumb fuckin’ cunt.”

It hurts worse than the cane did. 

When he sees the heartbreak on your face, he sighs. “Ah, shit. Look, I know you’re just tryin’ to please me. But you’re makin’ me feel bad for tryin’ to be careful with ya. If I take it too far today, you won’t be able to take as much anymore. I ain’t breakin’ you.” 

You’re sobbing too hard to respond, but you don’t try to argue or struggle when he releases you. You crawl to lay kisses to the toes of his boots and nuzzle your cheek against them.

He sees it for the apology it is. 

v. parched to dust

This time, when Tommy Miller takes out his cock in front of you, you’re ready. And there’s no way in hell you’re disappointing Joel again, so you wrap your lips around him, not quite eagerly but with enough determination that no one could fault you.

When you drag the second consecutive orgasm from him, he tugs you away with a fist in your hair, panting and gasping. Joel swats his hand away and beckons you back to his lap. 

“ Jesus,” Tommy finally says, tucking himself back into his jeans. 

“Told ya it was just a bad day,” Joel snipes. 

“Sorry,” Tommy says, rubbing the back of his neck. “Shoulda figured. It’s just… you’re a little soft for her, yeah?”

“Course I am. But I’m not soft on her.”

You know he loves you. You do. But hearing him admit that he’s soft for you makes your chest ache. 

“Got another surprise for ya, baby,” Joel says, rubbing his hand over your back. 

You’re overwhelmed. It’s not that he doesn’t give you things or do things for you; it’s that it’s never such a big deal. It just is . He takes care of you. That’s how this works. Not gifts and surprises. 

You bite your lip so you don’t question it, but he sees through you.

“Now I know you don’t remember. D’you even know what day it is?” 

“Saturday,” you say. “You’re home.” 

He shakes his head, but it’s betrayed by the smirk. “You’re right, baby. But what’s the date?”

You actually have to think for a minute. You hadn’t crossed off the calendar this morning like you usually did, and yesterday’s activities have you a little rattled. “It’s um, it’s August 19th?”

“That’s our anniversary, baby.”

Your brows scrunch as you try to think back. That’s not right. Your first date was in February. You moved in sometime early in June. You’re not sure what his metric is, but August doesn’t make sense. “Um. Are you… are you sure?” 

He doesn’t get mad like you thought he might. He just laughs. “Course, I’m sure, baby. It was the night we came home from your folks’. When you agreed to be mine.”

Your face heats. “I’m sorry—”

“Y’ain’t got nothin’ to be sorry about, baby. I didn’t expect ya to remember. But you’ve been mine for two years now, and you’re still worried I ain’t gonna keep you. But I’ve been thinkin’, and I know how to prove it to you.” 

If this doesn’t convince you, he thinks, nothing will. Never mind that his whole goddamn life revolves around you. Never mind that you’ve worn his collar for the last 731 fuckin’ days. 

You’re busy wondering why he made you suck another man’s cock today if he cares about your anniversary. But then again, you’ve long accepted that what he wants won’t always make sense. It’s not your job to make it make sense. It’s just your job to do it. 

“C’mon, let’s go downstairs,” he says. 

You swallow hard around the sudden fear, and he laughs. 

“What? Had enough yesterday?”

“No, sir,” you say. It’s mostly the truth. Mostly. 

He shakes his head. “Not today. C’mon.”

Now that he moves, you follow. 

Tommy’s already in the basement, which almost gives you pause, if only because his movement startles you. 

Joel has you hop up on the padded table instead of the metal one, typically a sign that either you’re going to be here for a well-extended time or that he’s going to fuck you on it. 

Tommy’s setting things you don’t recognize out on the little cart, but you don’t try very hard to look. Looking makes your breathing get a little ragged, so you look at Joel instead. 

“Good girl,” he murmurs, bending slightly to give you a kiss before he begins to slowly circle the table, fastening straps over your body. 

He’s left the dress on, which is weird, too, but you’re not complaining. It’s always a little chilly down here and even though you know you shouldn’t, you’re glad he’s not made you bare yourself completely in front of Tommy. 

It’s a lot of straps. You watch curiously, if not a little dazed, as he secures your ankles, thighs, stomach, chest both above and below your breasts, arms in three places, neck, and head. 

The one around your neck clips to your collar, not adding another band or choking you. But you’re unable to lift your head and neck at all. 

When he’s done with the strap across your forehead, he smooths away the worry lines that crease beneath it. 

“Just need ya to hold real still. You’re probably going to like this, but don’t fuckin’ come.”

“Yes, sir.” Your eyes are wide and worshipful as you wait for further commands. 

“Be real good for Tommy, okay?”

Your heart pounds in your throat, but you promise immediately. 

He hops up to sit on the spanking bench nearby. 

“Where first?” Tommy says. 

“Hip,” Joel says, settling in to watch. 

Tommy goes about his business and pulls the bottom halves of the table apart, wrenching your legs open slowly. He spreads them wide and slides a stool over, situating himself right up by your cunt, and flips the hem of your dress up over your belly button. 

You whimper and try to look at Joel for any indication of how you’re supposed to behave, but the restraints don’t allow enough wiggle room. 

Something cold smears across the front of your left hip, and, much to Joel’s surprise, you break. You’re still raw in more than one way from the previous day. 

“Please, sir,” you blurt, lip trembling and eyes squeezed tight. 

He hops down, brow furrowed, and comes closer, raising a hand to Tommy to pause him. 

He cups your face. “Please, what, baby?” His other hand rubs up and down your side. 

You force your eyes open to look at him, blurred through waiting tears. 

“Please, can I have a gag?” you say. Your eyes are scrunched, and fists clenched. 

He strokes his hand over your cheek. “‘Course you can. Good girl.”

The praise keeps you calm while he steps away. When he comes back, you open your mouth wide, and he settles it between your lips. 

You nearly cry in relief when you feel the little bulb press inside, not much different than the head of his cock. A few tears spill over when he leans down to kiss your forehead. 

“Atta girl, he says, pinching your chin before returning to his perch. 

The warmth of his touch lingers, and you let the pressure of the gag distract you from where Tommy starts to move again. You suck on it steadily, eyes fluttering shut when you feel the unmistakable scrape of a blade across your hip. 

Shaving. He’s shaving you. You can’t fathom why, with only peach fuzz reaching there. And you think maybe it’d be a cold day in hell before Joel let anyone shave your pubic hair. He liked it kept trimmed but not too neat. 

“I’m from the seventies, baby. Women’re supposed to have a nice healthy bush,” he had told you fairly early on when you were just dating. He hadn’t told you to stop shaving and waxing, but of course, you had. 

Warm water washes over the area with a washcloth not far behind. Tommy’s firm hand does a final sweep with something cold. 

“Alright, honey,” Tommy says, his voice almost seeming fond , “just hold still and be a good girl, okay?” 

As if you’d do anything else. 

You startle a little at the loud buzz that kicks up, and Tommy rubs gloves fingers over the opposite hip for just a moment. 

And then he gets to work. It hurts . But the pain clues you into what’s going on, and you come to the only logical conclusion: Joel’s having you tattooed. 

You start to cry, the feeling of being loved and owned overwhelming. You don’t hear Joel’s chuckle, buried as it gets under the gun in Tommy’s hands. 

You thought it was overly cautious of him earlier, to worry about you having an orgasm during anything involving Tommy. But you get it now. The pain itself is bearable, almost delicious, but the rush of euphoria in your veins from the mere concept is intoxicating. 

It goes on and on. Maybe it’s only half an hour. Maybe it’s four. The pain cycles, fading to a soothing heat before building back up to a scald. 

You don’t realize it’s over right away. The buzz of the gun plays on in your brain even when the room falls quiet. And Tommy’s doing something to it, probably wiping it down, but your skin still rages. 

Joel hops down and comes over to the side of your left leg. “Shit, that’s fuckin’ gorgeous,” he says to his brother. 

“Looks damn good. Hey, she’s got a real pretty pussy, huh?” He says, elbowing Joel. “S’funny, watchin’ her leak all over.”

Joel peers over, running a finger over your cunt, and laughs. “Knew you’d like that,” he says.

You whimper. 

He pulls out his phone and snaps a photo. “Want to see, baby?” He asks though he’s already turning the screen to you. 

The skin is red and irritated, but the ink takes your breath away. In shiny black, right there on your hip, sits a blocky “JM” surrounded by a circle. It looks like a fucking brand. 

Your eyes fly to his, whining desperately and praying he understands. A sly grin spreads across his face, and the tip of his middle finger traces oh so gently up your slit. 

“Come for me, baby,” he says, not bothering to touch you further. He knows you won’t need it. 

Vision blacking out, you writhe uselessly against the restraints as the pleasure batters through you. You’re only vaguely aware that the loud keening sound is coming from you, but it’ll register later when you feel the raw ache in your throat. 

Tommy whistles. “Sorry I doubted you, princess.”

You whine through the aftershocks, tears welling up again at the thought of the tattoo. You hope Tommy would leave so Joel will fuck you. 

Then you remember him asking, “Where first?” just as Tommy drags his stool around to the right side of your torso. 

Joel comes with him, rolling up his sleeves and tinkering with something on the cart. They both touch your arm a lot, fingers roving and adjusting you. You start to tune it out until Tommy lathers a spot on the inside of your wrist. 

Once it’s been shaved and cleaned, someone presses something against the spot for a moment. 

“Well?” Joel says. 

“Lines look clear to me,” Tommy says. He’s leaning close to your arm. 

Joel doesn’t walk away this time. As the gun kicks back to life, he stays with his hand resting on your upper arm, looming over Tommy’s shoulder. 

It’s easier this time, now that you know what to expect. It hurts, but you’ve had worse and probably will again. You’re feeling a bit too dizzy, though, when it finally stops. 

“This one’s for you to see,” Joel says, starting to unlatch the straps. He frees your arm first and then your head and neck, plus the gag. The ache makes itself known as soon as you shift a little. 

You peer immediately at your wrist, and a strange clenching tears through your chest. A few inches below your palm lays the dark outline of Joel’s thumbprint. 

“Oh,” you whisper, a strange tingling spreading through your limbs. “Oh.” 

“Knew you’d like it,” he says, lips curling into a smug smirk. 

Once you’re untethered, he peels your dress off so the fabric won’t brush against your hip. 

“There’s a protein bar and a bottle of water on the coffee table,” Joel says. “Go eat and wait by my chair.”

You’re swaying a little but he helps you down and makes sure you can stay on your feet before he removes his hands from your waist. 

You make your way upstairs in a daze. Truthfully, you don’t really remember it. When they come upstairs, you’re knelt in your place, wrapper and empty bottle on the table. 

“Good girl,” Joel says, lowering himself with a little groan into his recliner. He shifts around and pulls his cock out. “C’mere.”

You hop up immediately, and he takes you by the waist to help you settle where he’s fully hard already.

“Don’t move,” he says, to your great disappointment. “None of that,” he scolds at your pout. “It’s my turn. Just relax.”

Tommy sets the gun and equipment up to the side of the chair. You settle against Joel’s chest, snuggling in and resting your head on his shoulder so you can watch. 

Joel’s other hand, the one not waiting in place, comes up to cup the back of your head. He bends his head down to kiss where he can reach. “You’re being so good. Just a little bit more, and then you can take this cock.”

“Do not come on her tattoo, Joel,” Tommy says. 

Joel laughs, but Tommy smacks his arm. “I’m serious. It’ll fuck it up and probably infect it. Don’t fuckin’ do it.”

“I’ll wait ‘till it’s healed, don’t worry.”

You moan and clench around him at the idea, which only encourages his pleased chuckling. 

Tommy takes your hand, peeling it from where it rested against Joel’s chest, idly brushing through the hair there. You let him, letting it go limp and unresistant.

He presses your thumb against an ink pad and pushes it down on a piece of paper, rolling it carefully. He repeats the process a few times before he’s satisfied. Wiping it clean, he coats it one more time before pressing it against Joel’s wrist.  

You stare, rapt, as he traces the lines of your fingerprint onto Joel’s thick arm, framed by dark hair. It sits in parallel to the watch on his other wrist. 

“Where d’you want these?” Tommy says after he’s wrapped up and started to pack away the equipment. He’s holding the papers where they tested your print.

“The safes. One in each office,” Joel says. 

It’s weird, certainly, but so is Joel, so you don’t give it much thought. 

He’s cradling your face in his palm, looking at you with something so tender and ferocious that you can’t possibly look away. He thrusts up into you, his other hand tight on the hip opposite the tattoo.

It hurts, but, well, you don’t mind. 

The way he fucks you open now is slow, cruel after making you sit still for so long, but he’s savoring it. Savoring the way you can’t help but stare at him in worshipful bliss. It’s like a drug, the way his attention makes you hazy. He’s got you hooked, addicted, right where he wants you. His. 

Not a damn part of you that isn’t. 

The smirk curls across his face, and his hand curls around your neck, abandoning the gentle caress for something you both understand as love. You come on his cock when he tells you, every time he tells you, as he leaves you gasping and clutching his forearm, not prying him away but holding on as the room spins. 

When he fills you, he kisses you deeply, hand back around your throat as his mouth takes the rest of your air. You collapse against his chest when he lets go, and he holds you there with a smug, satiated smile and a soft kiss to the top of your head.

You doze in and out in his lap as he and Tommy share a bottle of bourbon. 

“Damn, I shoulda brought Daisy over. You haven’t had someone for her to play with in a while,” you hear Tommy say through the fog of your brain.

“Yeah, we’ll see,” Joel says. His hand is scratching at your scalp and it feels so good you almost forget Tommy is talking.

“... my wife and your little pet—” he’s saying.

You don’t mean to open your eyes, but you catch his as soon as you do. He laughs. “Yeah, I got a wife. I’m not as mean as my brother, here.” 

You find that hard to believe, but also, you don’t really think of Joel as mean. He’s strict, sure, and he has high expectations. But he takes such good care of you, and you want for nothing. 

The phrase stirs something odd in your head. Do you want for nothing? Well, it’s at least partially true. You don’t want anything, not a thing you have or don’t have. You’re happy with whatever Joel gives. 

It’s probably the same thing. Besides, you wanted that career; you wanted to put on a face, a mask, and pretend to be someone who gave a shit about the company’s reputation. And you were wrong, so wrong. And Joel’s always been right. So what do you know about what you want?

Joel’s rumbling voice startles you a little where you’re tucked against his chest. “She was one ‘a mine, y’know,” he says to you. 

Tommy’s wearing a sly grin. “Yeah, until you scared the shit out of her,” he says, laughing. “Poor little thing didn’t know what to do with herself.” 

“She wasn’t like you,” Joel says. He waits as if he expects a reaction, but you don’t stir from your safe place in his arms. 

“Nah, not everyone’s as fucked up as y’all,” Tommy says. “I ain’t a sadist,” he says to you, a glint in his eye. “Don’t get me wrong, I do love puttin’ her in her place, but mostly, I just like havin’ my pretty little wife at home.” 

Joel’s watching you; you can feel the heft of his gaze. But you’re so blissed out, so calm right here in his lap, dripping his seed slowly around where his cock still fills you. 

“Would that bother you? Playin’ with a girl who used to be Joel’s?” Tommy goads.

You think about it for a moment. “She ever get his mark?”

Tommy grins, teeth like a shark. “Nope.”

You hum, unbothered, and nuzzle your cheek against Joel.

“Attagirl,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your head. “Knew you’d learn this time.” 

You gaze at his thumbprint on your arm. The cells around it will grow and die, but not his claim on you. 

It’s almost comforting, you think, that by the time that fades, there’ll be nothing left of you anyway. 

bonus: the art of breaking playlist

thank you, thank you, thank you to everyone who asked for a part two and expressed love for the first. I will admit I am INCREDIBLY nervous to publish this both because it's kind of fucked up but also because so many of you loved the first part and I'm scared this won't live up to your expectations.

please, if you enjoyed this, let me know! soothe my anxiety lol. and if you don't want to publically do so, anon is always on.

i love you!

[suguwu]

RECKONING

In the morning light, things are painfully clear.

MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT.

a sequel to aftermath.

pairing: getou suguru x gn!reader

notes: was i ever expecting to finish this sequel? not really. did it possess me this afternoon? yes. so here we are. unbeta'd.

wc: 1.2k

cw: mentions/implications of child abuse.

You make mackerel for breakfast.

It crackles as you lay it in the pan. You watch as the skin starts to sear, and you think of the scorch marks a lightning strike leaves behind.

Suguru is warm next to you, deftly cutting a cucumber into perfect little medallions. The quiet, hollow thud of your sharpest chef’s knife rings in your ears.

(He took it from you with gentle, firm fingers, his big hand wrapping around yours on the handle. The blade flashed in the watery morning light, a quicksilver gleam. 

You could feel his dark eyes on you. Idly, you wondered where he was slotting you in his ever-shifting equation.

He swept his thumb over your skin. The touch was soft. Familiar.

You let go of the knife.)

Suguru pauses mid-cut.

“The girls are awake,” he says, just as you feel his curse—swirling slowly around your guest room, a lazy seaweed drift—stutter to a halt.

“Go,” you say. “I'll finish up here.”

He’s broad against your back as he slips by, and you know that if you turned around, he’d curve around you like the sky, vast and unending. His fingertips ghost over the small of your back, leaving little imprints against your skin, even through your shirt. Then the heat of him is gone; you hear him pad down the hallway.

He leaves the knife. 

For a moment, you stare at it. It's glinting on the cutting board, wet with cucumber seeds. Your fingers twitch.

You flip the mackerel over.

You’re watching the edges blacken when Suguru reaches past you and turns off the burner. He moves the pan to the side. When he pulls back, he catches your chin in one big hand and makes you face him. 

His eyes—night-sky dark and gleaming like starshine—trace over you. He has Nanako balanced on his hip; Mimiko is holding on to his pant leg, her knuckles white. She stares up at you with big eyes. There are bruises scattered over her face like storm clouds, deep and dark. 

Your chest hurts, a bone-deep ache, like your ribs are collapsing in on themselves, an eggshell cage. 

Suguru’s grip tightens on your chin. He looks you over, his gaze flaying, stripping you down to your marrow, an autopsy cut. You don’t know what he sees in your face, but he sweeps his thumb over your bottom lip, slow and heavy. 

When he lets go of you, the breath you were holding spills out of you. You watch silently as he puts Nanako down. He kneels in front of both girls to speak to them, but you don’t hear him, not really. The words are beyond your grasp; there’s only the sound of Suguru’s voice, warm and rich, dripping over you like resin. You think of insects caught in sunlit amber, how perfectly they’re preserved in their final moments. 

The girls disappear into the dining area, accompanied by one of Suguru’s more playful curses. It darts around them, hovering nearby and nudging at them when they turn to look back at him. 

There’s something in Suguru’s face each time they turn around; a terrible, tender twist of his lips. 

You turn back to the stove.

Suguru settles at your side. “I think it’s beyond saving,” he says, watching you poke at the mackerel with a chopstick. 

“It’s not.” 

The skin crunches, a few bits of char flaking away. 

He wraps a hand around your wrist. When you glance at him, his dark eyes pierce through you. “Yes,” he says. “It is.”

He watches you. You bite your lip and nod.

The sound of him emptying the pan into the trash makes you wince. Each scrape of the knife echoes, a whining animal noise that makes your bones ache. 

Suguru sets the pan into the sink with a hollow thud.

“I have eggs,” you offer. 

“Tamagoyaki?”

“Yeah.” 

“Sounds good.”

You gather everything you need; Suguru goes back to the cucumbers, the knife singing as it slices through them, its blade slick. You try not to watch, instead staring down into the frothy swirl of eggs.

It’s quiet. 

In the distance, you can hear the girls talking to each other softly, their voices barely over a whisper, all shivering leaves. It makes something in your chest go tight, how quiet they are. 

“You would have taken them too.”

You go still. You don’t look at Suguru.

“Yes,” you say. “I would have.”

He hums; it sounds pleased. You swallow down the bile. 

The two of you don’t speak again.

—

Breakfast is a quiet affair. The girls stare at you from across the kotatsu, where they’re pressed in against Suguru’s sides like little limpets. They flinch when you move, their honey-brown eyes widening. It makes your stomach roil, a storm-struck sea. 

Suguru talks, but you barely hear him. When you have to ask him to repeat himself for the fourth time, he pauses, his dark eyes flickering over you. 

He shoos the girls into your living room, sending yet another curse flitting after them, a little darting fish with too many eyes. 

“Come here,” he says, and you do. 

When you settle next to him, he raises a hand and cups your cheek. You turn into his touch without thinking, your lips pressing against the leylines of his palm. You wonder if his future is written there. 

(You think yours might be.)

He examines you for a moment. Suguru has always been able to flay you down to your marrow, but this time, it feels sharper, a slit into the very heart of you. 

He strokes a thumb over the apple of your cheek, shifting so that he cradles your jaw. Your lips part; you unfurl for him, petal-bodied. He leans in. 

“Don’t,” you murmur.

He pauses.

For a moment, he lingers, his lips almost brushing yours. His breath ghosts hot across your lips; when he breathes in, he takes your air, makes it his own. 

“You’re not coming.”

“No,” you whisper. “I’m not.” 

His fingers tighten on your jaw. You take in a sharp breath and they loosen again, before his hand falls away entirely. 

When you look at him, his face is perfectly blank, a rising new moon fading into the sky. There’s something secret tucked up into the corner of his lips, too faint for you to decipher. 

“Suguru—”

He pushes to his feet gracefully. He gazes down at you, still on your knees before him. Like this, he takes up your entire world, his broad form the earth and the sky alike. He gazes down at you, and for a moment, you don’t know him at all.

He steps around you, heading towards the living room.

Something in you cracks open, a wound of your own making. You swallow down the sob. 

“I’m sorry,” you say to the empty room.

Only silence answers you.

—

Suguru leaves.

Mimiko is cradled against his shoulder, her little body furled in tight against him. You think of early spring blooms, still delicate in the aftermath of winter’s harsh touch. Nanako is pressing close to his leg, her hand engulfed in his steady grip. He’s slowed his pace for her.

You watch them until they disappear. 

Suguru never looks back.

—

“Principal Yaga?” you say into the phone. “I need to make a report.”

[fvckingwolfstar]

The Morning After

Sequel to Keen Eye — tap to read

pairing: switch! hozier x afab! reader

genre: smut 18+

cw: oral f! and m! receiving, sleepy sex, shower sex, fluff

summary: the morning after your initial hookup. he wont you badddd

wc: 1430

masterlist

smut under the cut

The morning after you met Andrew, you didn’t have anywhere to be, and neither did he. You woke up beside him, nuzzled in his arms, feeling the tides of his breathing. You drew patterns into his chest until he woke up as well.

"Mornin',” he hums, his eyes squinting as the sun beams in through the windows. You look up at him and kiss his neck softly. He laughs softly at the slow pecks on his neck and face. "It's about time to get up,” he says softly.

You whine and hide your face more, "It's too early.

"It's almost 10,” he giggles, turning so he could face you. “You just want to lay here all day?"

You nod and wrap your arms around his waist. He thinks for a second before smirking. “I have an idea,” he says, turning you to your back.

He kisses your lips softly, trailing across your face, to your jaw, and down your neck. He caresses your still-naked form as he leaves kisses and soft bite marks on your body. You thread your fingers through his slightly tangled hair and sigh out, “Andrew, shit.”

You feel a puff of breath on your thighs as he chuckles at your reactions. “Is this okay?” he asks.

“Please, c'mon, please,” you whimper out. He chuckles again and kisses your thighs. He leaves hickies on your inner thighs as the teasing makes them shake. His fingers run over your core, teasing your clit softly. Your pants turn into louder moans as he plays coy with your cunt, “Jus’ do somethin’!”

He laughs again—that asshole—and kisses your cunt. He presses his lips against your clit without any real pressure to help you. You try to push his head further down, but he resists. “Is this not enough?” He asks, smirking up at you.

“It’s not!” You whine, “Stop teasing!”

He snickers again, shaking his head. “So needy,” he teases. He dives in and licks your clit softly, causing you to yell in surprise. He sucks your clit into his mouth, humming at the taste of you. He runs his tongue over your clit, making your thighs shake around his head. He plants his forearm across your abdomen for more control over your body, and his other arm on the bed to give him a better angle.

You try to thrust your hips against him as you moan at his actions. You gather his hair into a ponytail in your fist as he eats you out fervently. He increases the force of his tongue and his sucking on your clit. You push up further into his mouth and come hard on his face. You moan, your legs shaking beside his head

He rubs your thighs, kissing them as you come down from your high. He looks up at you from where he’s positioned between your legs. “Ready to get up now?” You laugh tiredly and pull him up by his hair.

You sit up with him and kiss him softly. “That worked,” you hum. You stand and put on some comfortable clothes. “You said you had a show tonight?"

He stands and pulls on his boxers and pants from the night before. “Yeah, but we should stay in touch. You could come if you want,” he offers.

You shrug playfully. “Is the music good?” You tease.

“I think it's good,” he shrugs. “I could get you good seats and a backstage pass,” he offers.

“Obviously I’ll go,” you hum, wrapping your arms around his neck. “When do you have to leave?” you ask.

“Around five,” he says, his hands slotting around your waist easily.

“So enough time for some food and another round?” You ask, giggling softly.

He nods, pulling you out of the bedroom.

“I’ll make some pancakes,” you hum, going to the kitchen of your small apartment to start cooking. “You can watch TV if you want.” He follows you in anyway and stays with you while you cook.

“You’re the only man I’ve ever slept with who would want to hang out with me while I cook,” you remark, looking back at him after you flip a pancake.

He comes in behind you and wraps his arms around your waist, resting his head on top of yours. “That’s a shame; you’re a sight to behold,” he hums.

You giggle, “Don’t waste all your compliments on me; go write a song or something.” He laughs softly and sways with you in his arms. He turns you around and kisses you softly. You wrap your arms around his neck, still holding the spatula. He presses you into the counter, making the height difference more obvious. Andrew groans softly against your lips, deepening the kiss.

You smell burning from the stove and pull away quickly to see a blackening pancake in the pan. “Fuckfuckfuckfuck,” you say, taking the pancake from the stove and sitting it on the plate.

“I’ll take that one; I distracted you,” he says, turning the stove off for you.

After the two of you ate the pancakes, you lazed together on the couch. You laid on your back, and his head was nestled between your thighs comfortably. His gangly legs did hang off the edge of the couch, though. You play with his hair absentmindedly as you watch the TV. He looks up at you. "Y/N,” he hums. You zone back in and look down at him. “I think we should shower.”

You chuckle and nod. “That’s one of your best ideas,” you say, letting him sit up before you climb off the couch. You take his hand and lead him to the bathroom. “Strip,” you tell him before turning on the hot water. He blushed softly at the demand in your voice and followed your orders. When you were both naked, you took his hand again, pulling him into the shower.

The two of you took turns washing each other and leaving feather-soft kisses on each other’s bodies. When you finished rinsing his hair, he leaned against the shower wall, and you stood in front of him. You put your hands on his waist, and you could tell his knees were buckled slightly. You pushed a wet strand of hair behind his ear and smirked up at him. “You’re so pretty."

He shakes his head, having not been on the receiving end of that compliment. You giggle softly and kiss his neck. “I just thought I could show you how pretty you are.” You kiss his torso, mirroring what he did to you that morning. As you got lower, you moved to your knees in front of him. His cock was twitching in front of your face, and you looked up at him. “Excited?” you teased.

He lets out a shaky breath and nods, his hand coming to run through your hair. You stroked him slowly, gauging his reaction. You lick a stripe up his cock, laughing softly as he whimpers above you. You take the tip into your mouth, licking it slowly. He grunts and puts his fist in his mouth, embarrassed at how easily he submitted to you.

You take him further into your mouth, making him squeeze his eyes shut. You bob your head on his cock, trying to take it deeper. When he feels the tip hit the back of your throat, he grips your hair tightly, grunting in surprise. You hum around him, making him repeat the same actions.

You grip his thighs and hold him in place against the wall as you suck him off. “Close, baby,” he grits out, loosening his grip on your hair. You look up at him through your clumped eyelashes in a silent plea for him to come. He looks down at you and whines one last time before coming down your throat. You pull it off and show him your tongue, covered in cum. You swallow and kiss his hip softly before standing up.

He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you in for a kiss. “You are too good to me,” he hums. You laugh and kiss his cheek before turning off the water. You both get out and dry off.

The two of you spend the rest of the day together until he has to leave. When he finishes getting ready to go, he pulls you by your forearm close to him and pulls out a pen. He had a shit-eating smirk on his face while he scribbled his phone number on your arm. “See you tonight?” he asks.

“See you tonight,” you smile.

[neobomb]

give into things i (dont) want to [lee haechan] - the sequel

bully! (yandere) stalker! Haechan x innocent! virgin! church girl!reader Part of the give into things i (dont) want to series. please read part 1 before reading this Word Count: 1.6k [Pt.1] [Pt.2] Warnings: dark and triggering content, mature themes, toxic/inappropriate behaviour, manipulation, forcing??, choking & breathplay?, hair pulling, unprotected sex, corruption kink, noncon, fingering, creampie, loss of virginity, MDNI, smut smut smut Summery: bully!Haechan is secretly in love with you and loves pulling your hair bc it feeds into his perverted fantasies. btw, donghyuk is haechan's real name. donghyuk, hyuk and haechan are all haechan. for the one person who wished to be tagged: @got-sum-badhabits © 2023 @neobomb. Unauthorized copying, translation, manipulation, or alteration of this work is strictly prohibited. All rights reserved.

“Please, Donghyuk, stop...” Haechan gently breaks the kiss, his eyes locking with yours in a tender gaze. His fingers delicately weave through your hair, brushing the strands that softly kiss your shoulders. Tears wells in your eyes as he tightens his fist in your hair, tugging harshly until you hiss through gritted teeth, your eyes looking up at him with the same innocence he is awfully familiar with.

“I stole your first kiss, didn’t I?” he says as his lips form a deranged smile. You find yourself in a state of paralysis, words eluding your grasp, unable to sculpt the sentence you so desperately seek. You muster all your willpower, attempting to dodge his lustful gaze by avertedly turning your head down. 

“Too bad you can’t take it back now.” he says, yanking your head up, letting a loud intake of air grace through your lips. His hands make its way down your shoulders and up to your delicate throat, his thumb brushing the wounded areas marked by his fingerprints. 

“It’s too easy.” he inspects his work on your throat, feeling how the skin gently rises as you gulp in nervousness. He is accustomed to your episodes of panic, especially when he would hold you up against your locker, but never had he seen it manifest quite like this.

“that I can just take your life away in a heartbeat if I wanted to.” His fingers intertwined tightly, securing a firm grip around your throat once again. He grins with delight as your eyes widen, your body shaking erratically from fear. 

“God, you’re so pretty like this” he says, tightening his grip around your neck. “Even with your short hair you look so fucking pretty.” Despite his dislike for your decision to change your haircut to suit Jaehyun's tastes, your beauty remains undeniable. After all, it was your radiant beauty that drove him crazy, making him go to immeasurable extents to gain your attention. Even with your life in his hands at play, deep down, Haechan knows that you’re the one in control. 

“Strip for me, baby” he whispers into your ears, making shivers travel down your spine. “If you want me to spare your life, you do as I say” he reminds you. You have no choice but to slowly bring your hands up to the collar of your shirt, undoing the buttons one by one. As your fingers graze the final button, a brief pause of hesitation halts your movements, but his tightening grip around your neck tells you to continue. 

You let your white button-up shirt drop to the floor, leaving you in your slightly see-through lace bra that compliments your skin tone perfectly. His favorite, he thinks to himself. Haechan pauses, taking the opportunity to truly observe you up close—a contrast to the distant glimpses through your bedroom window he's been accustomed to until now. His dick becomes painfully hard at the sight.

You slowly bring your hands to your back, struggling to find the hook of your bra clasp. Without hesitation, Haechan moves swiftly, his free hand goes behind your back to undo your bra before you let it slip off of your shoulders and down to the floor. You feel awfully exposed in front of him. Instinctively, you bring your hands up in an attempt to shield your body from his gaze. 

“Don’t hide from me, baby” Immediately, he brings your arms behind your back, locking them in place by your wrists. “Now, take off that skirt of yours without hiding from me.” he demands, releasing his grip around your wrists, letting you slowly push down your skirt and panties onto the floor in one swift move.  

He pauses, allowing himself to fully appreciate the breathtaking view of your completely naked body. He makes sure to scan every inch of your body with his eyes, making sure to commit every detail to memory with deliberate care. The feeling of your body so close to his will remain etched in his mind.

“Perfect baby, you look so fucking perfect.” he whispers before stealing another lustful kiss from your lips, hand still around your neck until this very moment. With his free hand, softly cupping your clit, brushing one finger up and down until your pussy starts to glisten from the wetness that forms. You desperately try to muffle your moans into the kiss while pressing your thighs together from the discomfort. 

“So pure, so untouched. All for me to destroy.” he whispers as his lips make their way down your body, ensuring that visible love bites mark every place his lips have visited. He releases his hands from your neck, restoring the rhythm of your breath to its natural, steady pace. To your relief, you’re no longer suffocating. 

Just as his lips were almost brushing against your clit, you gather every shred of valor and prepare to voice your thoughts. “You’re a pervert” Your speech stumbles and gets trapped in your throat while your chest begins to heave with quick, irregular breaths at the realization of his actions. 

“What a big mouth you got, baby girl?” he says, his eyes lift to meet yours, wide with astonishment. “I was about to go easy on you, baby. I wanted to make you cum with my lips.” Immediately, you regret ever saying those words, pressing yourself more firmly against the wall, wishing to simply vanish into nothingness.

“I won’t be gentle now” your eyes widen before he grabs you and pins you to your desk, leaving your ass up in the air for him to smack. For a moment, he stares at your naked ass, brushing his fingers over the red handprint he just made. He spits into your hole to lubricate it before leaning over you and lining his length up with your hole. Without any warning, he pushes his dick into you in one swift move. You sob, eyes tightly shut from the discomfort.

You feel tight, wet and warm around his cock. He can’t help but push until he settles balls deep inside of you, wanting nothing more than for you to feel every inch of him before he starts moving at an uncomfortable fast pace. He tips his head back to the ceiling, and moans your name.

“Fuck… Pussy so tight…” His voice was strained with arousal as your nails dig into your desk. Moans progressively loader as the speed of his thrusts increased. The contents of your desk cascade onto the floor as a result.

“Hyuk, it hurts…” you say in desperation. The sweetness in your voice gets him to rub circles on your clit, to which you force yourself to focus on rather than the constant painful stretch. His hips are still slapping into your ass loudly at a brutal pace, making you squirm below him. He is making it clear that he intends to show you no mercy. He wouldn’t be able to hold back even if he wanted to.

“Stay still.” he growls as he brings his hand from your clit to further press your upper body to the wooden surface of your desk. He feels your juices mixed with a hint of blood in a diluted reddish color, oozing out of you, coating his cock with every thrusts. Just from feeling your pussy pulse around him, he is certain of your growing ease.

“You want to be Jaehyun’s so bad, huh?” he hiss, knowing that his thrusts get sloppier. The pleasure has now turned you into a crying mess and you could do nothing but let him ram his dick into you. “What would Jaehyun think when he sees you beneath me like this?” he leans forward to tell you. Even though he is extremely close to reaching his own climax, he forces himself to keep the rhythm steady, determined to make you reach yours first.

“You’re mine. I’m gonna keep you like this forever.” he says. From the gratifying hum that just escaped your lips, he is convinced that you have surrendered to the thought. And with a few more thrusts, your eyes roll back as you grasp for something to ground you. He grabs a tight hold on your hips, nails digging into your skin to keep you from escaping your orgasm. 

He watches you come undone, feeling your walls clam down on his cock. He can’t help but completely stand still, observing your trembling body. He leans down and whispers “Don’t move”. 

You twist your head to catch a glimpse of him, your gaze awkwardly angled to the side. With each passing moment, his sense of relief grew, sensing your surrender. He could feel the weight of your defeat and the shame of realizing you were powerless against it. How pathetic, he thinks to himself.

“Look at you.” he growls as his hips start to move again, pounding his length in and out of you. 

“I can break you so easily” He released a deep, guttural groan. Soon enough, you feel his cock twitch against your walls as he starts to fill you, making certain that his cum is securely pushed in the depths of your womb. Slowly, he pulls his softening dick out with such precision that not a droplet dares to spill out of you.

"You belong to me now" Haechan remarks, his smile carrying an unsettling edge,  recognizing the helplessness in your eyes. The gleam of amusement in his expression was unmistakably genuine.

At this very moment, you have given into his deep desires. Haechan finally gets his way after all... like he always does....