#sit in between your wives so one doesn’t get jealous

[zweiginator]

Dom Patrick giving you punishments and torturing you for being bratty

dom!patrick inviting you to a nice dinner and there are going to be other couples there. other, very important couples who can help patrick’s career immensely. so it’s not like he doesn’t respect you and your choices—but he makes it very clear. look nice, look classy, be respectable. and he’s never had to worry about that; you’re always well-dressed and even more well-behaved.

but maybe you’re jealous that patrick has been spending so much time sucking up to his bosses and the higher ups in his company. and maybe he’s been more and more friendly with their wives. simply as a common courtesy, of course. but you don’t have to love it.

patrick picks you up. he doesn’t like how short your dress is but you lie to him, saying you don’t have anything else to change into. what’s wrong with the dress? doing that little wobble of your lip that makes patrick say fine, just wear it. and one glimpse of his watch makes him realize you’re running late.

you’re being difficult. complaining about the restaurant: patrick didn’t pick it up annoyed about having to wear heels—it’s only for an hour or two.

patrick grips the steering wheel and ticks his jaw, shaking his head. you’re getting on his fucking nerves. you let your dress ride up at dinner; you drink way too many glasses of wine. you lean on patrick’s boss and laugh in his ear and flirt with the interns that were invited as an afterthought.

and the final straw is your eye rolling. how you look annoyed with everything he’s saying to his superiors. as if you being there with him is the worst chore you’ve ever had to do. and it’s not—you just don’t feel appreciated. you miss his attention and you don’t know when his fucking job suddenly became his top priority. because now he isn’t taking you out as much and you haven’t had sex in weeks.

patrick grabs your wrist after you say your goodbyes.

“ow!” you try to yank it away, and patrick lets you, not wanting people to get the wrong idea.

but he doesn’t talk to you the whole way home. he sits in bed and watches tv. doesn’t say a word to you. so you huff and take a shower.

and halfway through, you hear the door unlatch. patrick comes in and opens the curtain. he’s still in his nice suit, his tie long gone. instead, his collar is partially unbuttoned, his hair lightly mussed. but you’re a specimen he’s looking down upon. completely naked, you stare up at your boyfriend. he throws a towel at you.

“dry off. turn the shower off.”

you nod. you haven’t even shampooed your hair yet but you listen to him, wrapping yourself in the towel and stepping out. he yanks it off you.

“get on the bed.”

you do, and you’re embarrassed, by the way he’s staring at you. like you fucked something up. maybe you did. patrick sits behind you, leaning against the headboard. he pulls you back into him.

he cups your tits and tweaks your nipples between his fingers before letting them trail down your torso. you’re still wet from the shower, and now you’re wet from his touch. you lean into him further, soaking his shirt.

he massages your inner thighs, letting his palms run over the smooth skin, his fingers gripping near your pussy but not quite close enough to grant you any relief.

you whimper, reaching your arms behind you to pull him closer.

“you’re gonna wait.”

he says it because he knows how impatient you are. how much you don’t deserve what you want.

your cunt is throbbing and your clit is swollen but patrick won’t touch it, won’t coo in your ear about how pretty and tight and wet you are, won’t furiously rub your clit until your legs clamp up and you’re digging your nails into his thigh. he won’t fuck you, he won’t even unbutton his shirt any more than it is right now.

“you’re gonna wait and i’m not going to fucking touch you until you’re crying.” patrick tilts your head back so you can see him, even if just barely. “and i don’t care how much you beg for my dick you’re not fucking getting it.” he squeezes your cheeks so you can’t do anything but nod. agree to his terms, because you don’t get any.

and he stays true to his word. even though you can feel his cock twitching against the small of your back, he won’t take it out and he won’t fuck you. he doesn’t even plunge his fingers inside you until you’re crying for him, until his thumb swipes your cheek to feel real tears.

“please—i’m so sorry please ill do anything—“ and your chest heaves as you begin to sob but he doesn’t say anything. just pushes two fingers into your pussy, rubbing your clit with his other hand. listens to your broken sobs meld with mewls of pleasure as your hips jerk up to meet his touch.

[kittyt-hexxed]

My Lovers Hate Each Other (Vi x Reader x Sevika) - Final Part

Final Part - Zaun’s Big Three

Part One | Part Two I Part Three | Part Four | Final Part

Warnings: Polyamorous relationship, Jealous Ex, beating someone up, injuries, making an example out of someone, threesome, cunnilingus (Sevika receiving), strap-on sex, double dildo penetration, wives being cute

Summary: When you're the girlfriend of two murderous women, they're going to have enemies. But, that doesn't harm the love between you, it only makes it stronger.

Author Note: Did you really think I’d end it without the wedding? ;)

“What am I going to do with you two?” Sevika sighs playfully, shaking her head.

“Sev.” Vi says seriously, “You have to marry us now.” You burst out laughing as Sevika’s eyes nearly pop out of her head. You cry out in pain, your ribs flaring as you struggle to stop laughing. You end up wheezing for a bit before you manage to stop laughing.

“...You’re right. I will marry you two after that.” Sevika says casually, making you and Vi pause. You blink, sharing a glance with Vi before turning your gaze to Sevika.

“What?” You say in disbelief, “Say that again.”

“Say what again?” Sevika tilts her head.

“You know what we're talking about!” Vi huffs, “The marriage thing!”

“Nope. I have no clue.”

“Sevika!” You and Vi shout.

“Yes?” Sevika grins, clearly doing this to rile you up, “...Oh! Yeah. Let’s get married.”

“WHAT?!” You two scream, causing Sevika to put her hand over your mouths. You and Vi share a glance in confusion as she shushes you.

“Marriage is serious here in Zaun.” You point out, “Once you’re married, there’s no turning back… and you want to do that with us?”

“I’m being serious. You ran into danger for me. I could have died today, and you could have died trying to save me. I didn’t think marriage was important but after knowing I nearly lost you, I want to get married. It doesn’t have to be a big one, hell, we could just sign the documents. But I’d… officially like to have you two as my wives.”

“I’ve… never thought about it, ya know, since I spent most of my time in prison.” Vi shrugs, “If it’s the two of you, I wouldn’t mind.”

“Ah, what the hell.” You grin, “There’s a possibility I die for you one day so we might as well.”

“Great.” Sevika smirks, “Glad I can convince you two to do it.” You and Vi scoff, shaking your heads at her.

Powder had taken you dress shopping, understanding that you didn’t have any family members to go with. She had gone with Vi to find something earlier in the day and decided to do it with you as soon as she got back. You felt touched that she wanted to go with you, and Ran and Krow joined you as well. Your wedding dress was a bit more sparkly than you planned but they had talked you into it when they saw how you liked it.

“Ooohhh, they’re going to faint when they see you in your dress!” Powder squeals as you walk into The Last Drop, “I can’t wait to see it!”

“You want them to faint?” You laugh, holding the door open for the other two.

“Absolutely.” Ran nods, stepping inside, “It would be hilarious.”

“I’m glad you think so highly of me, Ran.” You hear Sevika say, and you see a small group of people sitting around one of the tables. You recognize Alissandra who has become a thorn in your side since the moment she found out Sevika wanted to marry you. But, the two other women at the table were unknown to you. Vi looked slightly uncomfortable, but Sevika’s metal arm around her shoulder is likely the only reason she was still seated. ‘Does Alissandra have to be here?’ You huff through your nose.

“We-” Ran and Krow yank Powder towards the house, “will be waiting for you.” They drag her out of the bar with a wave, leaving you to join your partners at the table.

“Hello.” You say politely to them as you walk over and give Sevika a kiss on the temple. Vi - always the affectionate one - gives you a peck on the lips before they both pull you onto their thighs. Even though there was another chair you could sit in, they preferred to have you right in their arms. You had raised an eyebrow at them when they first proposed it, but it was kinda smart of them. They sat next to each other with their thighs touching, allowing Vi and Sevika to put their arms behind each other’s waist and have you with them. It was your favorite thing to do, especially because you could tease them at the same time.

“Hello.” Both of the women nod.

“You must be Y/n. My niece’s other bride-to-be.” The woman draped in a red and gold cloak says, “I am Kiaya’lani. Sevik’lani’s Abi or aunt in your language. Beside me is my daughter, Vivia’lani.”

“It’s nice to meet you Miss Kiaya’lani. Vivia’lani. What are you doing here, if I may?”

“Alissandra told me that my niece is getting married and I am here to officiate the wedding.” Kiaya’lani states, “It is tradition for the Abi to marry her niece off… and may I say that I am relieved my niece has chosen two beautiful women.”

“Abi!” Sevika huffs, “That has nothing to do with me choosing to marry them.”

“I know.” She chuckles, “I’m just saying they’re beautiful women, my niece. Now, let’s discuss this wedding of yours.”

“It’s nothing big.” Vi says, “It’s just a short exchange of vows in front of our friends and family. Afterwards, there’s a block party since it’s the leaders getting married.”

“I didn’t expect anything more.” Kiaya’lani shrugs, “In our tribe, we exchange vows, get our tattoos and that’s it. There’s no extravagant fanfare like in these other countries.”

“Tattoos?” You question.

“Yes.” Vivia’lani speaks up, “On your hand, we tattoo a circlet around your finger for each partner. You would get two.” She holds out her hand to show three circlets around her finger.

“Would you like to do that?” Sevika asks you two, “We don’t have-”

“-Yes.” You and Vi instantly chorus, making Sevika blink in surprise.

“Wonderful. Now, in our tribe, there is also the tradition of adding ‘lani to your names. It is a way to indicate that you are a part of our tribe to other Shurimans. You may choose to do it since you are from outside the tribe, if it is your wish.” Vivia’lani points out. You see Alissandra shift in her chair, a scowl on her face before she gets up and walks away.

“What’s her issue?” Sevika scoffs.

“Ali is jealous.” Kiaya’lani smirks, leaning back in her chair. It’s with that motion that you can see how she is related to Sevika. Their facial features are close and it makes you wonder how Sevika’s mother looked.

“She wished to marry Sevik’lani all of those years ago, but my darling niece denied her at every turn. And now, there are two capable women in her place.” Kiaya’lani’s eyes sparkle in mischief, “I must say that I have not made it easy on her either.”

“Mama likes to rub sand in the wound.” Vivia’lani giggles.

“I can see how you’re related.” Vi snickers, yelping as Sevika pinches her with her metal hand.

“Hey!” You poke Sevika’s cheek, “No harming the goods!” You two stare at each other before you see Sevika’s hand moving toward you. You squeal and try to get off of her lap but Vi holds you in place.

“Oh no, you don’t! I got pinched, so you’re not running away from this!” Vi laughs.

“What?! But, I was standing up for y- AH!” You yelp as Sevika pinches your thigh, “Babyyyy!” You pout, rubbing the area as Sevika’s aunt and cousin laugh on the other side of the table.

“So you have three husbands?” You hand Vivian a cup of tea that she takes a careful sip of. Aunt Kiaya had gone to find Alissandra and you moved into the house with Vivian.

“Yes, it’s normal within our culture to take multiple spouses. Abi had two husbands - her first one and then Abu, Sevika’s father - and two sons. Sevika’s brothers passed away before she was born.” Vivian tucks herself in the corner of the couch, “Abi was an amazing woman and Chief before she was lost to the sands.”

“My mother went on a journey she knew she wouldn’t return from.” Sevika speaks up, stirring her coffee, “So, she told my father to take me and leave Shurima for Ixtal. He chose to come to Zaun instead, and now I know it’s because of the Baccai.”

“I’m impressed.” Vivian smiles at you and Vi, “Many would not come back from a fight with a Baccai, especially one with a vendetta. I’m pleased that my cousin has decided to go forward with marrying the two of you.”

“Can you tell us more about Shurima?” Powder grins, messing with her hot chocolate, “I’d love to know more from travelers like you!”

“Nomads.” Sevika clarifies, “The tribe are nomads.”

“Right.” Powder smiles sheepishly. You spend the next hour listening to Vivian talk about her home. With everything that she was saying, you were appalled that Sevika never talked about it casually. But, from the way she spoke about her mother, you could see that the memories were still tender.

“There was this one time my arm got caught in the ropes during training.” Sevika chuckles, “Instead of untying it, my mother cut the line and I fell onto Vivian.”

“It‘s funny for you but I was the one with a concussion for a week!” Vivian complains, making you all laugh. It felt nice to hear about Sevika’s childhood and all of the mischief she got into. Even being a chief’s daughter didn’t stop her from doing wild things.

“What about you Y/n?” Vivian turns the conversation to you, “Did you do anything fun in your childhood?”

“Oooohhh!” Powder squeals, “Tell her about the time you tricked Mylo into jumping into the river!” Vi burst out laughing, while an embarrassed blush covers your face.

“I was thirteen and hanging out with Vi and the gang. We were spray painting the side of the lower bridge, and I slipped and managed to get paint on myself. Her brother Mylo comes out of nowhere, laughing that I looked like an orange with neon paint on me. I was so embarrassed that I told him a wasp landed in his hair.”

“And the one thing about Mylo is that he’s terrified of wasps.” Vi snickers.

“Terrified.” You emphasize, giggling, “He screamed, jumped over the railing and into the freezing water.”

“That’s so mean!” Vivian laughs, “But, sneaky.” You go around the room, everyone talking about some form of a prank they’ve pulled. Surprisingly, there was a lot to share before Aunt Kiaya came back with Alissandra in tow. The younger woman had a sour look on her face while Aunt Kiaya seemed pleased with herself.

“Excuse me.” Aunt Kiaya hums, “Alissandra would like to say something to the brides-to-be.”

“I wish you a successful marriage.” Alissandra forces out, before Aunt Kiaya kicks her leg, “And! You two are perfect wives for Sevik’lani. There will be no issues from me during the wedding.”

“Thank you, Alissandra.” You smile mischievously, “That was very kind of you.”

“Isn’t she the sweetest?” Aunt Kiaya grins, “Now, I smell coffee. Where can a woman get a cup?”

The small wedding that you planned for turned out a bit bigger. Sevika’s entire gang - around fifty people - are sitting on the left side of the room. The Prowlers, along with Powder and Ekko, are sitting on the right side. In total, there was over one hundred people in the bar. When people learned that you only wanted a small crowd of ten, they whined and complained until you all relented and let them come. If the people of Zaun had it their way, they’d all be crammed into The Last Drop to witness your ceremony.

You kneel down onto the pillow, your little cocktail dress spreading out around you. On your left is Sevika and Vi takes her place on your right, grasping your hand and intertwining your fingers. Across from you is Sevika’s Abi and the other woman you now know to be her daughter. You’re instructed to hold hands with your partners and you do so, tightly holding onto each other for comfort.

“Before me are three hearts that wish to bond. I ask the Gods to bless them, so their inner strength may keep them together so they can weather any storm. Love is their strength, the bond that holds them together, and we bestow each of them with two circlets to show it. One for each heart that joins their own.” Kiaya’lani declares, smiling at you, “The brief pain is a small price to pay for a love forever-lasting. With the inking of these circlets, you are imbedding your love for each other within your own bodies. May your ink never fade.” You hold out your right hand and Vivia’lani tattoos two thick lines onto your finger. You and Vi chose to get it done on your right hand, since Sevika couldn’t get it done on her left. You didn’t want her to feel upset or left out, and you thought it’d be cute!

“I dedicate my heart to you, Sevik’lani.” You whisper, pressing your lips to the back of her hand, “And I dedicate my heart to you Vi’lani.” You do the same to Vi, leaving a lipstick mark behind. When Vi’s tattoos are finished, she does the same thing and leaves a red mark on your hand. Your heart flutters seeing the two lipstick marks of your lovers’ on your hand.

“Before me today are three strong women. My niece, Sevik’lani. Her wife, Vi’lani and her other wife, Y/n’lani. Now stand and show the world your dedication to each other.” You stand, legs feeling like jelly, and share a threeway kiss with your now wives. Everyone claps, Powder cheering the loudest out of anyone, and it makes a grin cross your face. ‘We just got married.’ You think in awe, looking at your wives and seeing their eyes shine with joy.

“CONGRATULATIONS!” Powder screams, throwing her arms around you, “I’m so happy for you!” She squeezes you.

“What about your own sister?” Vi muses, holding her arms out.

“I guess I’m happy for you, too.” Powder playfully rolls her eyes but hugs her sister tightly. Ekko and the others come up to you, giving you hugs and you find yourself being passed from person to person. ‘I’ve never received so many hugs before! What are we, Pilties?!’ You laugh to yourself.

“It’s time to open the doors.” Sevika smirks, twirling you out of Ran’s arms, “Are you ready for a busy day?” She brushes your hair down.

“Even if it’s my wedding day, I don’t mind working.” You grin, kissing her on the cheek, “The faster these people get drunk, the faster I get you two alone.” You purr, winking before you saunter over to the front doors. You yank the doors open, seeing a very large crowd waiting for you. ‘They all waited out here for the announcement?’ You snicker. ‘Man, when did they turn into a bunch of suckers?’ All gazes turn to you, and you smirk.

“WE’RE MARRIED, YOU FUCKERS!” You scream, and the whole block erupts into cheers knowing they’ll be getting wasted off their asses. You and Vi hop behind the bar with Powder taking her place at the cash register. You’re pleasantly surprised when Ekko, Ran and Krow put on server aprons and help out. People are congratulating you as they order or shouting across the bar. You grin seeing Sevika at her usual seat playing poker with her Abi and Vivian. From the appalled look on Sevika’s face and the grin on Aunt Kiaya’s, your wife lost and you snicker to yourself. Honestly, you didn’t mind this. There was something so heartwarming about falling right back into routine with your new family and friends by your side.

“So… you’re married.” Hayley takes a seat at the bar, stitches in her swollen lip, “I didn’t expect that.”

“What? Come here to complain?” You raise an eyebrow.

“No.” Hayley gives you a tight smile, “I’m glad you found someone who can stand Sevika’s shadow.”

“Ah, that’s where you’re wrong.” You slide her usual tequila to her, “Vi’s not in Sevika’s shadow, and Sevika isn’t in hers. I’ve got two lovely wives, and who knows… maybe I’ll end up with another at some point. But, I’m so happy with them.” You smile at Vi who’s busy talking with one of her regulars. The white jumpsuit she has on makes it hard for you to not notice her figure. You know that you’re going to be needy for them by the night. ‘I can’t wait for tonight. Just the three of us in the house.’

“Congratulations then.” Hayley says bitterly, not hiding her displeasure.

“Thanks, Hayley.” You grin, “Have a nice afternoon.” You get back to mixing, exchanging kisses with Vi every chance you get. You even bring Sevika’s family some drinks, giving your wife a kiss before she shoos you away claiming that she needs to focus. Although, that doesn’t stop her from giving your ass a squeeze as you walk past her.

“You can’t be married!” You hear a woman shout and it makes you raise an eyebrow. As you make your way through the crowd, you see a woman clutching onto Vi’s wrist across the bar. People’s eyes flick your way, wincing when they notice you but you pay them no mind. For once, Vi looks very uncomfortable with the situation that she’s in.

“Faith, you know I’ve been in a relationship. How the fuck does being married change that? I’ve always been committed to my wives.” Vi tugs her hand away and the girl tries to grab her again.

“I wanted to marry you!” The woman - Faith - wails, tears running down her face.

“What?” Vi looks startled by her declaration.

“YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO MARRY ME, YOU STUPID BITCH!” Faith screams just as you get through the crowd. Your hand twists into her hair and you rip her from the bar stool, making her scream in pain. You hear the crowd muttering as you give her a death glare. Her nails were digging into your hand, but you were too angry to care. ‘How dare she say that to my wife! Right in front of me, too?! Oh, I think not!’

“Murder isn’t on my wedding day to-do list, but I can make a last-minute addition.” You growl, dragging her to the door kicking and screaming, “Out of my way.” You hiss, making the crowd scatter and two people yank the bar doors open for you. They have genuinely terrified looks on their faces.

The girl’s screaming and cursing at you only made you angrier. You toss her to the ground, flexing your fingers to release some of the tension in them, “You want to call my wife a bitch again?” You say darkly, watching the girl get up.

“You’re her wife?” She scoffs, “You’re not as attractive as me.”

“You won’t be attractive for long.” You shrug before you punch her in the mouth, knocking her down back, “No one disrespects my wives.” You don’t give her a chance to fight back, punching her over and over again. If you didn’t make an example out of this one, there would be others bold enough to try it themselves.

She’s barely conscious when you stop, shaking out your hand to soothe your stinging knuckles. Punching wasn’t your thing, but you were making a point. This was personal, and using your guns or a knife wouldn’t have the same message.

“Don’t come to my bar unless you want to lose your other front tooth.” You spit, whirling around and pausing when you see Sevika and Vi watching you.

“I think you should get inside.” Vi grabs your shoulder, “We’ve got to clean up that hand of yours.” She and Sevika lead you back to the bar which is continuing on as normal. You’re silent as you let your wives’ presence calm you down. They lead you into your bathroom, sitting you on the toilet while Vi gets the first-aid kit out.

“That was a solid grip you had there.” Sevika smirks, wiping the blood on your knuckles away with a damp cloth, “She couldn’t get away from you.”

“Thoses punches were in perfect form, too.” Vi’s face has a matching smirk, “I didn’t expect you to react like that to her.”

“Who was she anyway?” You huff, “She had a lot of nerve calling you a bitch in front of me.”

“A girl from my childhood I dated for like a week.” Vi shrugs, “Didn’t think she’d show herself. None of the others did. I was caught by surprise from what she said.” You wince at the sting of the alcohol, but Vi kisses the back of your hand.

“I guess we’ve all dealt with a displeased ex-girlfriend.” Sevika snorts, “Who would have thought our marriage would make so many women upset.”

“I thought they’d all at least be your exs!” Vi teases, fluttering her lashes at Sevika and making you laugh.

“What-” Sevika pauses, before nodding her head, “You’re right.”

“Well, why don’t we shower and take this chance to get away from everyone?” You suggest, “Since it’s been so graciously offered.”You’re the first one encouraged to go shower while Vi and Sevika clean up, so you go and get ready. Your shower is quick, spurred on by the heat already rising through your body and you lay naked in your bed waiting for them.

Vi is the first one to come into the room with her towel wrapped around her waist, “You know, I found you defending me like that really fucking hot.” She takes it off and hangs it up, revealing her strap. You sit up in bed and when she sits down, you straddle her lap. Automatically, she pushes you down onto her strap, getting a low groan from you and coaxes you to move your hips.

“It wasn’t a big de-” You gasp as Vi roughly thrusts up into you, a displeased frown on her face.

“Say that again and I’ll have you gagging on my cock, sweetheart.” Vi huffs, “No talking down on yourself. Got it?”

“Yes, Mommy.” You pout.

“Good girl.” Vi hums, kissing your forehead, “Look who’s decided to join us.” You follow Vi’s gaze to see Sevika hungrily taking in the sight of you two. You wink at Vi, getting off of her strap and approaching Sevika.

“You’re the one getting the attention tonight.” You purr, pulling her over to the bed, “Lay down, baby.” You peck her on the lips.

“I thought I told you I don’t like doing this?” Sevika chuckles, doing as you say. Vi is immediately parting Sevika’s thighs, the dildo covered with your slick rubbing against her slit. You liked to watch when your partners fucked each other, but specifically when Vi got to Dom Sevika.

“That’s a lie, Sev.” Vi smirks, slowly pushing the dildo in and making her bite her lip, “You like getting fucked by your girls. You just don’t want to admit it.” You sit on the bed next to her, kissing at Sevika’s exposed chest and letting your hand trail down to her clit. You hum in delight at her swollen bud, tapping your finger on it and getting a twitch of her lips.

“You know your safe words.” You add on, your fingers working her clit in slow circles as Vi moves in and out of her at the same pace. The two of you always chose to start off slow with her. If she felt uncomfortable with it, it gave her a chance to stop before anything really started.

“You’re right. My wives enjoy my body.” Sevika smiles softly, “You two get so happy when I let you touch me that I find it adorable. So, I do like when- Fuck, Vi!” You giggle, Vi giving an innocent smile as she pretends like she didn’t just hit her g-spot.

“Sorry, Sev. You were saying?” Vi teases her, making Sevika growl. You go back to Sevika’s boobs, sucking on her nipples and leaving hickeys as you play with her clit. Her hand finds your hair, fingers gently twining with the strands as you do. Her soft groans mixed with Vi’s moans bring you joy. You love watching her face as she shyly - though she’d never admit it - tries to hold her moans back. And, the way her body rocks with Vi’s thrusts and she tries to hide how much she likes it.

Sevika wasn’t used to being appreciated and having her body worshiped like this. This was only the third time you’d done this, and you knew that it made her a little apprehensive each time. But, your favorite thing to do with Vi is praise her for what she does.

“I couldn’t wait to get my cock in you after you fucked me last night.”

“You fuck us so well, we have to return the favor, baby.”

“This is how you make us feel, Daddy.”

“Does this feel good? Having your wives show their appreciation for you?”

“I want your thighs to shake as you make mine.”

Sevika was letting the two of you take care of her. It made you happy because she deserves to be the one pampered at times. You all knew that she preferred to be the one to take care of you both, but you wanted her to experience that, too. What better way to do that than to have your body worshiped by your wives?

“Are you going to cum for us, Daddy?” You coo, recognizing her tells.

“Yes.” Sevika groans, her grip on your hair tightening, “Don’t stop.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Vi hums, leaning down to kiss her. It’s not long before Sevika moans, her hand fisting your hair as she cums. You perk up, licking your lips and waiting for her to let go of your hair so you can move. Vi pulls out, and you’re switching places between Sevika’s legs.

“Someone’s eager to get a taste.” You hear Vi chuckle as you kiss the inside of Sevika’s thigh.

“I’m not wasting any time.” You hum, fingers toying with her slit, “I don’t get to do this often.” You put your fingers in, feeling Sevika’s warm, sticky walls welcome you. You suck on her clit as you finger her, finally hearing her moans now that Vi got her to relax. Speaking of your wife, you can hear her teasing Sevika, “All it takes is Y/n’s mouth, baby?”

“That’s what she does to me.” You giggle as you move from her clit to her pussy.

“This-” Sevika moans as you slip your tongue into her, “-is unfair.”

“You can have your way with us after.” Vi purrs, before you hear them making out. You practically shove your face into your wife’s cunt, taking advantage of the opportunity. You eat her out like you’re starved, earning you a lack of air as Sevika’s thighs slowly start to close around your head. A noise leaves your throat when you feel a hand grip your hair, keeping you as close to her pussy as possible. You can feel her walls tremble around your tongue as her thighs keep you pinned. A loud moan sounds as Sevika cums and you continue through it, lapping up all of her juices.

You take a deep breath and sit up once she relaxes her thighs. Your head spins slightly as you try to get air back into your lungs.

“You know I thought you’d pass out.” Vi teases you, guiding you back over to her. You idly note that she no longer has her strap-on.

“It’d be a dream come true.” You playfully swoon, “Suffocated between my wife’s muscular thighs.”

“Keep that up and you will be.” Sevika snorts, sitting up, “I’m going to get cleaned up. You two, don’t move.” She warns you, making you raise an eyebrow. You two shrug at each other as she goes into the bathroom. Vi suddenly grins and tackles you onto the bed causing you to yelp. You grin back and playfully wrestle with her, rolling around on the bed trying to top the other.

“Aha! I win!” You shout in victory, pinning Vi underneath you with a cheeky grin.

“I totally let you win.” Vi scoffs, a grin on her face, “You’re not as strong as I am.”

“Hey!” You gasp, making her laugh. Movement in the corner of your eye has you look up at Sevika, before something else brings your attention down. ‘Oh shit.’ Your eyes widen at the sight of her strap. Instead of there only being one dildo, there’s two of them - both the same length and girth.

“Uh, Sev? W-whatcha got there?” Vi stutters, eyes wide like yours.

“A new toy.” Sevika smirks, walking behind you, “I was going to try it out soon, and what better time than on our wedding night?” You squeak as you’re moved to lay on top of Vi, who’s looking at you in interest. You’re mutually surprised - and turned on - by Sevika’s forward behavior.

“So.” You freeze, locking eyes with Vi when you feel the slick head of her strap press against you, “Yes or No?”

“Yes.” You and Vi chorus, grinning at each other before your brief moment of amusement is broken. Sevika thrusts into you, making you suck in a sharp breath as Vi hisses. When you look at Vi, you’re pretty sure that you have the same thought. ‘We’re done for.’

You had tried to hold yourself up for the first few minutes, but that quickly failed. The dildos that your wife is using are new, with bumps along the shaft that find your g-spot every time. Each thrust and draw back is a constant stimulation for your poor walls. You and Vi kiss, tongues dancing around each other as you moan into each other’s mouths. The pleasure you’re feeling has no end to it. Your body is pressed to Vi’s, breasts and clits rubbing against each other with every thrust from Sevika.

“Daddy, this is too much.” You gasp, pleasure shooting up your spine.

“I agree.” Vi groans, “Go easy on us!”

“Go easy on you?” Sevika chuckles, “I am. I haven’t even changed pace, yet.” If this was her taking it easy, you weren’t prepared for when she decided to stop teasing the two of you.

“Fuck.” You whisper, making Vi flash a smile at you. She pulls you into a kiss, biting at your lip and taking control. The one thing she can control right now. And the kiss gets more and more desperate as the need to orgasm grows. You and Vi are trying to grind your clits together while Sevika fucks you, but that doesn’t help the need to cum.

“Sev!” Vi pants, “Sev, go faster!”

“Are you sure about that, bunny?” You can hear the smirk in her voice.

“Yes!” You answer for her, “I need to cum!”

“Please!” Vi adds on, not wanting to get edged tonight for forgetting manners.

“You asked for it.” Sevika hums. Her pace picks up and you instantly realize that you regret it. ‘Holy shit, I can’t even- Where does the pleasure even end?!’ You groan. The pressure in your abdomen is tight, teetering right on the edge and it’s breaking before you realize it. You moan loudly, hearing Vi do the same as your orgasm rocks through you. But, Sevika doesn’t stop and you realize that it’s going to be a long night. After all, it’s your wedding night.

And you’re right. Vi’s hands are grasping your body, her fingers digging into your skin for something to hold onto. Sevika was fucking you at a brutal pace that made breathing hard to concentrate on. No words could come out of your mouth, and you know that Vi’s in the same position as you. You weren’t sure how many times you and Vi came, but it was enough that the two of you were spent.

“Awe, look at you two.” Sevika coos, slowly easing you through your last orgasm, “I should have done this sooner.” She chuckles, pulling out of you. You groan, relieved yet feeling odd at the emptiness. You hear the sound of something hitting the ground, before Sevika is gently moving you off of Vi. The fog that had a hold on you is finally starting to clear. You yawn, snuggling up to Vi who does the same. With a kiss to your forehead, you watch Sevika go into the bathroom and hear the water running.

“Are you alive?” Vi whispers.

“Barely.” You mutter back.

“…I kind of miss it.”

“…Me too.” You both giggle.

“Bath’s ready.” Sevika says, leaning in the doorway, “It’s a bubble bath.” You and Vi are immediately scrambling out of bed, sleepiness forgotten in favor of a bubbly heaven. The two of you race to the bathtub, grabbing Sevika as you do. You had chosen to get a big bathtub that’ll fit all three of you. And, when it’s just you, you have more than enough space to stretch out and relax.

“First bath with my wives.” You hum, getting into the tub, sighing in relief as the warm water relaxes your muscles.

“What happened to being sleepy?” Sevika chuckles as you and Vi move over to her.

“A bubble bath, duh.” Vi says teasingly, kissing her on the cheek. After a soak in the bath, you grab a bunch of blankets and jump on top of Sevika and Vi who were making out. You giggle as you bounce on the bed, your wives laughing at your childish behavior.

“So, I am too awake to go to bed.” Vi says, laying her legs across your lap, “What are we doing?”

“I was thinking that I can give my wives massages?” You smile, lifting up the lotion.

“You just want to feel our muscles.” Sevika smirks, “Don’t you, kitten?”

“Yes, yes I do.” You nod, “Now come on, turn over.” You insist. Vi takes the lotion from your hands and puts it on the bedside table. Sevika grabs you and drags you over to them, before cuddling you into the mattress. Vi clicks the light out, the only source coming from the little fairy lights dangling from the ceiling. You squeak at the weight of Sevika’s metal arm, surprised that she’s putting all of her weight on you. Vi hooks her leg around yours and rests her arm over Sevika’s metal one. Both women pin you between them, kissing your cheek and closing their eyes.

“W-What are you doing?” You stutter, confused.

“It’s time for bed.” Sevika cracks an eye open to look at you, “Go to sleep.”

“But-!”

“-Shhhhh.” Vi covers your mouth, “Your wives are telling you to go to bed. Sleep, kitten.”

“…I love you both.” You giggle, making them chuckle.

“I love you, too.” They chorus and the room falls silent once more.

“…Are we actually going to sleep?” You question.

“Say something else and I’ll tickle you.” Your wives threaten you, and that makes you close your eyes and try to fall asleep. ‘Wives… now that’s something I can get used to.’

[jackrrabbit]

open season thirsts [2/?] /// Oikawa x f!Reader (18+)

Request: Oikawa as a yandere? What do you think he’d be like as a yandere pro volleyball player with all those resources and wealth and fame?

A/N: oh to be in the yandere wives and girlfriends section, also I’m kinda faded rn so if there are any typos my bad

Tags/warnings: yandere, service top!oikawa, dubcon

“did you see my game?”

you didn’t hear him come in, the tv’s on too loud. you’re watching an action movie on the flatscreen across from the bed in the hotel suite where you’re staying. something with christian bale. you don’t know what’s happening, but you keep your eyes fixed on the overwrought fight scene flashing across the screen so you don’t have to look at him.

“(y/n)? did you watch it?” oikawa stops in front of you, standing between your legs where you’re sitting on the edge of the mattress.

you avoid his eyes. “you’re blocking the tv.”

he leans forward and you recoil for a second, half out of instinct and half because he always looks so betrayed when you flinch away from him, and you have to get your little moments of joy where you can. but he doesn’t touch you—just grabs the remote sitting next to your thigh and clicks the tv off. the screen fades into black and then the only light in the room is the shimmering pricks through windows out of the late-night city skyline. in your hometown the lights are always gold, but here they’re silver-blue. like stars. oikawa tosses the remote back on the bed.

“i was watching that,” you say. still not looking at him.

“really? what movie was it?”

is he testing you, or is he really curious? you can’t tell anymore. either way you don’t have an answer. the silence stretches out and you can hear the soft push of his breathing.

“(y/n)…” oikawa looks worried. he crouches down so he can lift one of the straps of the nightgown you’re wearing, rub the thin edges of silk between his fingers. “did you change since this morning?”

“why bother. it’s not like i—“ you swallow. “i don’t go out anyway.”

he trails his fingers down your arms to lace into yours, brings your hand to his mouth and kisses it. “do you want to go out tomorrow? i could take you somewhere nice, you know i like showing you off…but you have to ask nicely.”

and it’s not like you think you need his permission.

but what are you supposed to do? leave without him? you don’t have any money, you don’t speak the language—you don’t even know where your wallet is. you’re not some teenager running away from home. you’re an adult and—and if you said you were unhappy, who would believe you? every time you step out of your house the paparazzi end up snapping pictures of oikawa kissing you like his life depends on it.

you’ve seen your face plastered next to his over the trashy magazines they keep next to the checkout lines in the grocery store; you’ve seen the theories on fan pages and the jealous comments on your social media profiles. and it’s not like they’re wrong: oikawa tooru, a professional athlete who could probably be a model, wants you for some reason. he adores you. he couldn’t love you more if he tried.

how are you supposed to explain to anyone that that’s a bad thing?

you pull your hand out of his so it can drop back into your lap. “please, can we go out tomorrow?”

oikawa’s still kneeling in front of you, head in front of your stomach. he rests his forehead against your hip, and you feel a chill race down your back as his arm snakes around your other thigh. “i wish i could give you everything you want,” he murmurs.

“you can, you—you do,” you tell him, a little panicked now. your voice feels a little hoarse—he’s the only one you talk to these days, and it’s not enough. if you spend another day alone in silence while he travels for games or for training or to spend time with friends who aren’t allowed to look at you, you’re scared you’ll forget how to speak. “i just—can’t we go to dinner? please tooru, i’m, i’m sick of room service.”

god, you sound spoiled. maybe that’s how he sees you—his spoiled little princess, some kind of hothouse flower that wilts when it’s not being taken care of. the veins on the back of his callused hands stand out from the effort of moving slowly when he pushes up the hem of your pretty nightgown. “fuck, baby, i love you so much,” he sighs, and his breath feels hot and damp through your panties. “but you know i worry.”

“you don’t have to…i’m always going to be yours.” your stomach turns when you say it—not because it’s a lie, but because it isn’t.

oikawa smiles—god, it’s not fair how perfect he looks when he smiles, like a hero in a romance novel—and he presses a soft kiss over your clit through the fabric. “i know,” he says.

[bethanydelleman]

Have you ever read the Mansfield Park fanfiction Everingham by Katharine T (katharhino)? If you did, I'd be curious to know your thoughts about it.

I have. It's a decent Mansfield Park variation. The author seems to have a pretty good handle of the characters and the plot moves well. It is a gripping read.

However, this is a bit of a difficult question. I am aware that Everingham is one of the first MP variations to have Fanny end up with Henry, and as it is unpublished and given the culture around critiquing JAFF, I don’t want to come off as too harsh, but I think this story has some problems.

The timeline for the story is a bit off, Henry was supposed to meet Maria at the Fraser’s party, so he can’t have already met her, formed the plan to flirt, and then decide not to go to the party. Also, his motivations of going to Everingham at the beginning are whimsical or even lust driven, instead of out of a desire to improve himself.

I think the characterization of Mary tends to veer a little into Isabella Thorpe, which is not her character but it’s a common mistake and one that I catch myself making. For example, Mary can’t decide on earrings and throws herself onto the bed in despair. That is Isabella, not Mary. Mary doesn’t do that sort of silly drama.

The biggest issue though is that the story seems to blame Fanny almost, for being too scared (?) to love Henry, instead of rightly blaming Henry for being someone who is not a good choice for a husband. Fanny does tell him what he did wrong (which she doesn't want to do in MP), but then we never have him really examining why his flirtation, especially Maria, was so bad. Or a proper apology. And then later we have this:

“Nevertheless I think Mr Rushworth is quite often jealous where there is no cause” - Henry

Which Fanny accepts! We know as readers that Rushworth was jealous with ample cause and so does Fanny! I really think Henry and Maria sitting cozy on the piano should have been a deal breaker for Fanny. To show that Henry is reformed, he should be avoiding Maria and creating proper distance between them, in my opinion.

I really dislike the jealous scene near the end when Fanny talks with Edmund and Henry gets mad at her:

"I find it hard to understand your determination to do what you know will hurt me. If you prefer your cousin's company to mine, very well; but at least have to courtesy to inform me of your whereabouts so I may not be reduced to asking the servants where my wife is." - Henry

She thinks she done wrong! Edmund is her brother-in-law and cousin, she has nothing to be sorry for! And I am not mad at the author, jealousy being shown as a good thing is a common romance trope, but jealousy without cause is actually a toxic relationship trait. After all, Fanny lived at Edmund’s house for a month and nothing happened and she has given Henry no reason to doubt her faithfulness. That isn’t healthy relationship behaviour, it is controlling and isolating.

And then we have this:

"It is not. I hesitate to confess, Fanny, for you will be so shocked," she [Mary] said, laughing. "It is an old dress I had made for winter two years ago, and I turned it and remade it. Do not look at my hem, for it is dreadfully botched. It is my first time turning a dress, but these are the straits we poor clergymen's wives are forced to. Is it not a horrid tale?"

I think people misunderstand Fanny saying Mary will be “poor” in Mansfield Park. Mary will be poor in comparison to her ambitions, but an income of about 1,700 pounds per year is not actually poor even for the gentry, it is similar to Mr. Bennet's income (Thornton Lacery’s 700 per year and Mary’s 20k dowry yielding around 1k/year). And at this point they have no children, so no, Mary does not need to remake a gown.

My personal favourite Mansfield Park variation is Fanny: A Mansfield Park Story by Amelia Marie Logan. Not only does it imitate Jane Austen's style in a way I don't think I've read before, Fanny does not change in her morals, Henry changes to meet her. And it takes a long time, which fits into Fanny's character.

Disclosure: My own Mansfield Park variation comes out next week, it's called Unfairly Caught. I accept criticism of my own works and I am not aiming to tear anyone down in this post. There is so very little Mansfield Park Fan Fiction that I don't feel any need to be competitive.

[jadequeen88]

RED AND THE WOLF

I’m a little late to the game, BUT here is my contribution the the Citrus Dome’s BNHA Fairytale!AU collab! Check out the other works here.

A/N: this was completed and uploaded on mobile, so please let me know of any typos! It’s also not beta read and I’m a little self conscious of the ending. But regardless, I hope you guys enjoy!

Half Giant!Kirishima x Wolf!Bakugo x fem!reader

2.3k words

TW: threesome, kidnapping, tied up, size kink, a tad bit of breeding kink.

ALL FICS I WROTE ARE 18+. MINORS DNI

You scoffed at the warnings from the villagers and your family. You put as much stock in them as you did all the other old wives’ tales you’d been fed growing up (read, not fuckin much). You’d never seen any giants or knew anyone who did. Neither did you know anyone who could say they encountered a fierce man who shifts into the form of a golden wolf… So, you concluded, there was absolutely no reason to pay attention to the ramblings of the old assholes grumbling out tall tales into their fourth or fifth mug of ale…. or to the old washerwomen by the stream angrily beating their undergarments on the flat stones, yelling out as you entered the dark canopy of the forest.

********

“Ei!”

“Hmmmmgghhnn, what? Why do you wake me this early?” The massive man rolled to the other side of their shared bed, trying to ignore the loud, booming voice of his partner, and failing.

“I found one. It’s gotta be her…” he shivered, the long, golden tail he kept even in his human form bristled out, “Just wait until you smell her, Ei.”

The half-giant sprung up from the soft pillows and warm furs of the bed. He knew that not many things got his wolf this worked up so he had no choice but to believe him. Grabbing a small, leather band, he tied back his long, vibrant red mane of hair and threw on his tall, worn leather boots.

“Lead me to her, Katsuki.”

********

You didn’t even hear a rustle of leaves to warn you of the massive man approaching you from behind. Two arms the size of tree trunks latched around your waist and your back was pulled against a fleshy, warm wall of pure muscle. When a golden wolf that looked more like a lion jumped out into the path ahead of you, licking his muzzle with a long, red tongue, your brain refused to process exactly what was happening.

A scream was caught in your throat as a cloth was pressed to your mouth. The hand that held it could easily cover your entire face and you shuddered at the thought of who could possibly have hands that large.

“Shh, my sweet,” you could feel the deep rumble of his voice as his chest pressed even harder into your back, “Sleep now…”

********

The sounds of a crackling fire and the feeling of warm, sweet-smelling furs surrounding you lull you back into a peaceful sleep… until you try to turn over and realize a silk band has your wrists tied to one of the massive posts of the bed you’re sleeping on. Panic quickly takes over when you remember the events that lead up to you being here.

Before you can do more than thrash a bit and whimper, a large presence looms over you blocking out the glow of the fireplace. You think you must be dreaming because no man could ever actually be this large.

He had to be a full seven feet tall and four feet wide across his muscled shoulders. Long, crimson hair like a lion’s mane surrounded his chiseled jawline and fell down his back. You noticed the sweet, spicy smell that enveloped you when buried in the furs was coming from him…

You know you should be more frightened than you were, but you couldn’t help but notice how beautiful he was. His deep red eyes were kind and his pointed canines that peeked out from his plush lips as he smiled sent a thrill down your spine instead of scaring you (like they should have).

“O-oh… umm,” your gaze faltered under his intense scrutiny, “Where am I?” you hesitated a moment, “Sir?”

Kirishima wanted to pounce on you right then… so small and soft and pretty… You were going to look so good round with his child… but he knew to be careful with you for now. This would be so, so much sweeter if he didn’t have to force you.

“You’re home now, little one,” he said confidently as if you should have already known that.

“B-but, I was… I was supposed to be selling-”

You were cut off as Kirishima knelt beside you and bent forward to stroke your cheek with one of his massive hands, “My precious one,” he hummed and you couldn’t help but feel safe, “Your life has much more purpose now. You’re ours.”

Wait…

Before you could finish the question, another body lept onto the bed, causing the mattress to shift under you violently. A warm face was buried into your neck, then, and the scratchy stubble along with wild sniffing from the person’s nose sent full-body chills all over you.

“Kats!” the man in front of you barked out, “Down! Now!”

The person assaulting your neck (Kats?) huffed in annoyance and pulled away from you to sit back on folded legs, glaring into the other man’s eyes.

“I’ve been waiting all fuckin day, Shitty Hair!” you noticed his canines were even longer and sharper than the other man’s, “How long r’we just gonna watch her sleep? I can smell her! She’s fertile NOW!”

Now you were thoroughly confused and panic crossed your features.

Kirishima sighed and drug a hand down his face as he groaned in frustration. So much for easing you into things…

“Hey,” the familiar hand that was stroking your face brushed your hair back from your forehead, “Let’s start with names. I’m Eijiro, but you can call me Ei or Red.”

“Or Shitty Hair,” the blonde snickered, pleased with himself for getting a jab in on his companion.

“No,” Eijiro growled, momentarily meeting the other man’s gaze with clear irritation, “Don’t listen to the overgrown puppy.”

Said “puppy” stiffened beside you and was about to lunge over you to tackle Kirishima when you reached out and put a hand on his bare chest. He gave you a confused look and cocked his head to the side. You had no clue what compelled you to touch him, but you know that your hand moved before your brain could stop it.

“Please,” you whispered, “D-don’t fight…”

Both of them visibly relaxed. A light thump-thump-thump was heard on the bed and you noticed not only did he have a tail, but you caused it to wag happily. This caused you to giggle lightly and raise your hand to scratch his unruly, blonde spikes. A small voice in the back of your head was telling you that you should NOT be this relaxed and you should NOT be okay with what was happening, but the sighs and whimpers you were pulling from his gorgeous throat dulled any sense of fear you’d had.

Kirishima cleared his throat and you stopped your scratching to give him your attention (much to Katsuki’s annoyance). “This,” he said, pushing the blonde back from your body slightly and moving closer to your side, “is Katsuki. Or Kats.”

“But you can just call me Daddy if ya want,” he whispered in your ear and you felt a long (a slightly too long) tongue trail up from your collarbone to your ear. You couldn’t stop the little whimper that left your lips.

Eijiro outright growled at that and stood up, grabbing Katsuki by the hair and lifting him to eye level. Both of them were staring daggers at each other, so wound up and jealous they couldn’t see straight.

“No, please!” you thrashed against your restraints, not wanting to be underneath the two giants if they clashed, “I-I don’t want you to fight!” large tears reached the surface of your glassy eyes and both men instantly started fawning over you. Kirishima unfastened your wrists and pulled you into his large lap. He cradled you into his chest as Katsuki nuzzled his cheek into your plush thigh. It wasn’t until then that you realized that you were in your thin underclothes, the sheer material exposing your thighs and barely covering your pebbling nipples. Being so exposed pressed between the two men made your heart flutter and caused a heat to bloom in your stomach that spread all over your body.

You shifted slightly, feeling awkward and unsure of how to deal with the new sensations coursing through your body… and they seemed to pick up on it. Katsuki brushed his mouth along the skin of your thigh, not quite kissing and not quite licking, just gentle, feather-light drags of his lips. Eijiro’s large, calloused fingers traced circles into the skin of your stomach, slowly pulling your thin undergarment up, giving Katsuki more skin to indulge in.

Your head rolled back onto Ejiro’s chest and he looked at you adoringly. “Have you ever lain with a man before, sweet lamb?” his hand spanned your entire midsection as he slid the thin fabric up to sit below your breasts. Katsuki growled and nipped at the exposed skin of your tender belly, soothing it over quickly with his warm tongue. When his eager mouth trailed below your belly button, Eijiro’s other hand grabbed a fist full of blonde hair for the second time. Katsuki looked murderous but didn’t say a word. He knew if he didn’t play nice, he’d end up having to watch his mate fuck you into their mattress as he stroked his cock.

“No… no, sir. I haven’t…”

He seemed to hum in approval at your response and you noticed a very large, very HARD bulge forming underneath you. You stiffened and for a moment, wondered if it would even be possible for that THING to fit inside your virgin cunt. A deep chuckle rumbled in his chest.

“Don’t worry. We will prepare you so that it doesn’t hurt too badly.” as if on cue, Katsuki grabbed your thighs and slid you down the bed so his face was at your core. With very little warning, his tongue was eagerly lapping at your clothed slit. It felt nothing like the tentative swirls of your fingertips you’d indulge in occasionally in the dead of night tucked safely under your covers. This was foreign, electrifying, and slightly terrifying. Eijiro caressed your hardened nipples, circling your areolas gently, still not making direct contact with your skin. You were being shoved over the edge of an intense orgasm before you’d even been undressed. A tiny whimper was all the warning you gave before spilling over Katsuki’s tongue, the thin material of your panties doing nothing to hold back the copious amounts of come.

“Good, sweet girl,” Kirishima brushed the hair off your sweaty forehead. Katsuki whimpered into your throbbing core causing you to jerk involuntarily. He pulled your soaked underwear to the side, ripping it in the process. Your scolding was swallowed up by Kirishima’s hot tongue dancing against your parted lips.

“Don’t worry,” his gentle grip kept your chin turned toward his fiery gaze, “These won’t be needed for now.”

“Ei,” Katsuki whined and you could feel the thump thump thump of his tail thrashing against the bed, “C-can I please?” You noticed he had been dragging his leaking cock along the mattress and soaked through the linen trousers he wore.

“You’ve been greedy, hmm?” KIrishima wound his fingers into messy blonde tresses, “I haven’t even had a taste of our little plaything yet.”

Your stomach did flips as you watched Kirishima devour Katsuki’s lips. His tongue explored every inch of his lover’s mouth, savoring the taste of your release that coated the bottom half of Katsuki’s face.

Watching the two men get lost in each other’s touches reignited the fire in your core, your thighs clenching at the new feeling blossoming inside your body. They must have noticed your reaction, because with a side glance and a chuckle, Ejiro pulled you towards them without breaking the kiss he shared with Katsuki.

Without speaking, you seemed to know what was needed, your body moving on its own. You unfastened Eijiro’s trousers and gasped at just how massive he really was. You gulped before leaning down to gently kiss the angry, leaking head of his cock. You were rewarded with a sweet moan that Katsuki greedily swallowed up. You licked up and down, kissing every inch, getting drunk off the sweet sounds you pulled from the giant man.

Feeling left out, Katsuki quickly got your attention by grabbing your hand and stuffing it down his unfastened pants. You moaned around Eijiro’s member causing him to growl. His patience growing thin, he hauled you up to straddle his lap. His thick fingers dug into the meat of your ass and you felt a warm chest press against your back.

“Now,” the half-giant whispered into your ear, red locks falling around your neck, “Be our good pet and let us fill you up.” You whimpered, head rolling back onto Katsuki’s shoulder as a finger found your tender clit, pulling the hood back gently.

You were passed back and forth for what felt like hours. Katsuki mounting you from behind while you sucked Eijiro’s cock… Eijiro pressing you into the mattress, knees folded up by your ears… Katsuki between the two of you, Eijiro plowing into him and in turn making him fuck you twice as hard…

The three of you were utterly spent as you lay in the hot spring not far from your new home. You lay back on Kirishima’s large chest as Katsuki nuzzled into your soft cleavage. You took turns gently washing and praising each other. You’d never once felt this loved and cherished before.

As your hair was being braided by your crimson haired giant and your face peppered in kisses from your adoring lycanthrope lover… you thanked yourself for choosing to take the path less traveled.

[qyllenhaal]

Good Wives Club [2]

Lee Bodecker x Reader. 3rd POV. Word Count: 4.2k.

Spin-off to American Pie

Chapter One || Chapter Three

Summary: It's been more than a year since she's escaped the ghost of her past but life is never fair to a girl like her. Lee doesn't care that she has a husband, a nice house, and sugary fake friends, he wants what's rightfully his.

Warnings (series): Cheating, smut, violence, housewife kink, period-typical misogyny, age gap (about a ten year difference), manipulation, dark themes all around.

A/N: If anyone wants to be added to future tag list just let me know!

Y/n woke up at 5am with a dry mouth and her head spinning. Her night has been plagued with restlessness and she couldn't stay still. When she did fall asleep, it was for small periods of time. Each time she woke up she was not aware of where she was for the first five seconds, panic almost setting in before she registered the sound of her husband snoring.

The end of her irregular sleep cycle ended because she saw the hallway light was on. She sighed when realized it must be time for her husband to get ready for work. She virtually got no sleep and she'll probably be tired for the rest of the day.

She gets up from their creaky bed and starts walking down the hallway. It takes a while for her eyes to adjust to the brightness as she slowly plods down the hallway. She follows the light to the bathroom where she can hear her husband getting ready for work. On the days he goes in this early Y/n is relieved that she doesn't have to get up and cook breakfast for him.

The door is cracked but she opens it to find him inside. She situates herself in the doorway, watching him shave his face through the mirror.

"Good morning," he spoke with a scratchy voice. Even though Y/n didn't marry Llewellyn for love, she's still attracted to him and likes his company most of the time. She feels an ache inside of her that wants him to take her, but after running into Lee last night she's afraid she won't be able to get Lee's face out of her mind while beneath her husband.

"Good morning. Going in early?"

"Yep. Dad wants to do inventory today since he put it off last week."

"Oh okay," she accepts quietly, ready to leave her husband alone so he can get ready in peace.

However he asks her a surprising question, "hey, did you enjoy last night?"

"Uh, it was fine I guess. Did you?" Her hope is that he at least enjoyed himself somewhat.

"You know I don't like that super fancy stuff like that, but I have to eat crow; it wasn't all that bad and Bodecker's not as bad as I thought. He's kind of a funny guy. I still think he's not as hard on crime like everyone claims he is, but personally, he's not that bad. Florence was nice too. She invited us to dinner on Wednesday night, apparently that's the only night Lee has off. I told her we'd be able to join them."

The turn of events was shocking. Y/n couldn't believe her ears and she thought maybe she indeed was still asleep. Lou was not fond of many people and his only "friends" were his two brothers so him warming up to Lee and Florence left her speechless. So speechless that she didn't register the fact that he accepted a dinner invite for them.

"What?"

"What do you mean ‘what’? You dragged me to that dinner last night and wanted me to be nice, and now you're confused when I do just that?"

"I-I'm not confused...just shocked," she admits truthfully, "I can't believe you want to go to someone’s house who isn't your mother house for dinner —are you sure you want to go?"

"We're going Y/n."

His tone of voice indicates that the conversation is done and over with and the decision has been made. Y/n didn't even get to contest his decision but Lou can tell when Y/n is in a defiant mood. Her folding her arms and walking away was confirmation for him. She stalks her way back to the bedroom where she takes to hiding under the covers.

Lee and Lou under the same roof — it makes her stomach churn just to think about it. They're wildly different from each other but the thing she hates about them is what they have in common.

All she can hope is that this nightmare ends and she wakes back up to a life without Lee's ghost lingering around.

-

She decided to go with a floral dress again. She really wanted to take out the checkerboard dress that made her legs look good and showed off her arms, but Lou would have made her change before she had the chance to step out of the house. The floral print is dizzying, but it's the kind of dress that Lou likes to see her wear.

It's just a small dinner at the Bodecker's house but Y/n opts for kitten heels instead of sensible flats. She feels obligated to look her best despite there being less people to dress for. She's never been alone with Florence save for that day at the grocery store. Florence is always dressed to the 10's and Y/n needs to look just as good, if not better. She claims to hate Lee, but it would be so satisfying if she caught Lee ogling her breasts.

"Are you ready?"

Y/n thought Lou was too dressed up for a home dinner of four. He wore a pinstriped suit and those nice leather shoes he bought himself around the holidays.

"As ready as I'll ever be," she sighs in an attempt to let off some steam.

It was a shorter drive than Y/n expected. Florence hadn't disclosed where she lived before, but Brewer Heights wasn't that for them to live at a distance. The sun was nearly dipped over the horizon and the remaining light that hits their house makes it look like a model home. Everything little aspect and detail Y/n was going to compare herself too. She lives in a nice house, but Florence lives in a nicer house. It tears her up knowing she has the ultimate upper hand over Florence in the form of her own husband and she can't even act upon it. She would royally fuck up her life and their lives too if she decide to let her jealousy get the best of her.

As she walks up their stairs as another man's wife, she accepts that she is jealous. She's always been jealous of Florence even when she didn't know her name. What made her so worthy of all of these things? Lee used to act like he hates the woman so she must be a bitch behind closed doors. It wouldn't be surprising if she is because most people in this town will smile in your face and then gossip about you a minute later.

Lou knocks on the door and only a second later Florence is opening the door with a big smile on her face and Lee right next to her. He wore his police uniform without the jacket while Florence looked like a Lilly Pulitzer catalog girl.

It only took one millisecond of their eyes locking together for Y/n to feel the electricity between her and Lee. She drags her eyes away from his, but she can bet that he has a smirk on her face. He always liked to see her squirm; in a good and bad way.

"Y/n, Llewellyn! I'm so glad you could make it! Why don't you come on in," Florence steps to the side, nudging Lee over with her, to make way for Y/n and her husband.

Her eyes scan over every inch of their house. It's warm, cozy, and oddly comforting. Everything little thing was in its place; perfectly dusted and polished. Y/n is sure that Lee had no hand in decorating this place, it screams Florence through and through.

"Dinner is almost ready. I started the scalloped potatoes a little too late, but it should be done soon! Y/n, do you want to help me set the table?"

Y/n didn't want to leave her husband alone with Lee, but she also didn't want to be in the room with just them. She nods at Florence and follows behind her to their kitchen.

The house smells like Lou's parent's house on holidays. Y/n's stomach rumbles and she doesn't realize how hungry she was. She despises herself for wanting Florence's cooking, but she barely ate today because of how nervous she was.

"I already laid out the place mates, you can place the plates and silverware."

Y/n picks up the expensive dining ware that Florence points towards. She wonders if Florence cooks like this all the time, even when Lee works well into the night.

The walls of their dining room have an awful floral pattern. Y/n is beginning to become sick at the sight of anything that pertains to flowers. The cedar table is perfect for accommodating guests and Y/n wonders how many dinner parties they had in this room. Florence seems to put a lot of stock into being a good hostess. Y/n herself has yet to throw a dinner party at her home, but setting the plates on someone else's dining room table feels like practice. She silently imagines her house filled with Lou's family as she cooks dinner for them.

Florence enters the room and starts placing the dishes in the middle of the table. Her presence takes Y/n out of her fantasy, and when she sees how Florence made a 3-course-meal she feels worse.

"Does the food look good? I tried some new recipes from Julia Child's cookbook to try to impress you and Llewellyn," she admits, "I wasn't sure what you two would like, but Lee loves when I make those recipes from Julia Child and I bet Llewellyn would love it too! I could lend you the book some time!"

"Of course. I love her work!" Y/n lies straight through her teeth. She has no clue who the hell Julia Child is.

Florence grabs one last thing before calling the husbands into the dining room. She places one beer on the coasters designated for Lee and Lou. Lou has never been much of a drinker, but she knows that Lee can knock down a few beers in one sitting. He might be on his best behavior tonight in front of his wife and company.

"Dinner's ready!" Florence called out.

Y/n took her seat on the right side of the table and Florence sat opposite of her. Their husbands come walking in laughing as if they were young boys sneaking back into the house during a family get together. Y/n doesn't like it; she doesn't like it at all. They look too cheery with each other and she knows that Lee is doing it on purpose — she can see it in his eyes when he quickly glances at her. He takes pride in making her uncomfortable. Y/n wishes she had that same affect on him to scare him off a bit, but no matter how chummy she gets with Florence, Lee looks unbothered.

Florence stands up from her seat as if she's presenting the food on the table to an audience. Everything is placed perfectly with the main dish being the middle of the smaller plates.

"This looks great honey, you made a whole feast," Lee walked up to Florence's side and kissed on the cheek. Y/n's eyes are trained on his hand snaking around her waist and giving her a light squeeze before letting go. When she pulls her eyes away from his hands, she sees that Florence almost looks shocked at her husband's affection; Lee is definitely putting on a show for Y/n and it's a damn good one.

Lee sits opposite of Lou and the first thing he does is open his beer. The food isn't even on plates anymore and he's drinking.

"I hope you like Schmidt's, Llewellyn. Lee loves it so it's all we have in the house."

"I'm not one to drink beer often, but I'll try it. And call me Lou, Florence."

Lou was acting out of his normal character. Him only interacting with his family and Y/n left him a bit awkward in the presence of others, but around Florence and Lee he seems to be much...warmer. If Lee was someone else then Y/n would be over the moon, but because it's him she can't even force herself to even look happy about it.

Y/n takes note of how Florence places portions of food on Lee's plate. They were small portions too. She was always strict about what he ate and how much he drank. She's surprised Florence is letting him drink tonight, but she must be trying to look nicer in front of guests.

Y/n was not as controlling as Florence. She always let Lou fix his plate to his liking. She thought it made her a good wife for letting her husband make his own decisions. But Y/n felt a tap on her shoulder after she finished making her own plate. He looked down at his empty plate before looking back at her and nodded towards the food.

"Y/n," he tries to whisper but his tone is rather harsh.

"What?" She whispers back in true confusion.

"My plate."

He looked at her as if she was crazy, as if it was a common occurrence for her to fix his plate. She starts to scramble to save herself from further embarrassment, the sound of silverware against plates so loud. She can feel the stares coming from the other side of the table but she doesn't dare look up.

Her skin began to grow hot. Her husband had embarrassed her in front of Lee and Florence. The worst part was when Florence tried to change the subject to something lighthearted to pull the attention off of Y/n. She felt small and useless. Lou never expected her to fix his plate, but he looked at her as if she was crazy for not doing so. She didn't want to spend dinner almost in tears. This changed behavior in her husband is giving her whiplash and making her dizzy.

"So, Y/n, did you enjoy the other night?"

"It was really nice Florence," she replies sheepishly.

"Susie and I put so much work into planning it. You should join us next time! We're going to start working on the fundraising events for Lee's next campaign-"

"Let's not talk about that tonight Florence," Lee interrupts. It was a moment that would've left Y/n embarrassed if she was in Florence's shoes but Florence was much better at masking her emotions. Only for a split second can Y/n see Florence flinch at his interjection before she just smiles.

"Sorry Lee, you know how excited I get about those things," she masks her apology in a cheery voice.

Dinner basically became a probe of Y/n and Lou's relationship. Florence wanted to know how they met, when they got married, how long they had been together, and what their future plans together were. Y/n let Lou answer the last question by herself because she genuinely didn't know what their future plans were. Lou usually wakes up and decides what major life change they're going to undertake, that's what happened when he decided to move to Brewer Heights.

When the topic of work came up, Y/n thought the coast was clear. Lou talked extensively about the work he does with his father and what his plan is for the next five years regarding the business.

"Once my father retires I'll have to hire someone to do his job. I didn’t go study in school after high school so I can't take over his position, even though it would make things easier."

"I'm sure you can find someone. I know it's rare for someone to leave the city and come to this little town, but Brewer Heights is always a nice incentive!"

"It is nice here," Lou agrees, "and it's quiet. We were in Meade before which is okay-"

"But, it's nothing like Brewer Heights," Florence interjects. "So, Y/n, what did you do before meeting Lou?"

Lee had not looked her way since the plate-fixing incident but his eyes were sure on her now. If his mouth wasn't stuffed with food he'd be grinning from ear to ear waiting for her answer. He knows she's not a good liar, but she's going to have to come up with something.

"I helped my mom with her business. She used to sell fruit preserves out of the house before she passed."

It wasn't a complete lie. She did help her mother label her jars, but that became less frequent when her hours picked up at Tecumseh. Her parents didn't know about her job either; she told them she was a waitress and it was a safe lie seeing as they didn't go out to diners.

"I'm sorry for your loss, I'm sure she was a lovely woman if she raised such a lovely daughter! Have you ever thought of continuing her business?"

"Not really. It was pretty small. I still make the preserves sometimes for Lou and I."

"If you wouldn't mind, would you be interested in making some for us one day? You don't have to if you don't want to, but it's just so hard to find any good fruit preserves around town." Florence's social habits were very transparent once you were around her for long; she tends to make it impossible for people to say no to her by making them feel bad about even possibly saying no.

"I'd love to Florence. I have fresh peaches at home and I can make peach preserves."

"Oh I'd love that so much," she fawns, "a jar for me and a jar for Lee! He loves his sweets."

"I'm not too big on peaches, Flo. You know I like cherries more."

"You always have," she leans into him and pats him on the chest before straightening up again.

The audacity of Lee is astounding, however not only is he a cop, he's the sheriff. It's such a cowardly move to pick at Y/n when she can't react, but what someone would call cowardly, he'd call fun. She looks like she wants to disappear from her spot and it scratches an itch for him. He missed seeing her get flustered and if he'd known that it would be much more enjoyable to taunt her while his wife was around, he would have found a reason a long time ago to bring her around.

And as if the night couldn't be more humiliating for her, Lou finished his plate before anyone else. He devoured the food on his plate, like a starved man. Y/n felt embarrassed when her husband went for seconds. He never eats this much at home, even when she makes his favorite meals. It makes her want to reach across the dinner table and smack Florence in the face. She hates her; she hates that she has to smile in her face and be friends with her. It's her own fault for continuing this "friendship" with Florence, but her rage makes her blind to her own faults.

She could ruin Florence's life with one sentence: "I've been fucking your husband for years." She'd cause a scene but it would be so gratifying.

Instead she just shuts her mouth and lets dinner continue without anymore incidents.

-

Y/n thought it would show she was grateful for dinner if she helped Florence with the dishes. She was glad to accept Y/n's help and the two spent their time in the kitchen while Lee and Lou sat on the back porch. With Lee's influence, Lou took another drink out back with him. Y/n wondered what they had to talk about, but she would truly not like to know.

"Your wife cooks like that every night, sheriff?"

"Enough with the title. And she cooks every night, but she went a little overboard since she was happy with having guests," he tells him. If it was anybody else, Lee would just answer the questions and not have any for himself. However, he really wants to know what Y/n has been up to since she's adopted this new image. "How about Y/n? Does she cook for you like that?"

"Not at all. She tries, but she's not the good of a cook," he brings the alcohol up to his lips before pulling away and sighing, "she tries but it's just not her best."

"Her mother didn't teach her how to cook?"

"I don't know much about her family. Her mother was dead when I met her and her father doesn't seem to be doing so well. They're from the same area as my folks but moved when they had Y/n. Maybe she was just too spoiled considering she's an only child."

Y/n's past was a mystery to Lee too, but he's surprised to learn she hasn't opened up to her husband. All he knows is that whether it was her home life or not, something had messed her up and it was almost made worse by her time at Tecumseh. He isn't sure how she made it out, but so much of her old life still bleeds through.

"You know I thought I was getting a good girl. One that would clean and have dinner ready when I get home," Lou continued.

Lee wanted to laugh in his face. Lou is proof that you can come from a smart family and still be dumb as rocks. How could he not know what type of girl Y/n was when he first laid eyes on her? She'd dress just like his sister Sandy; shorts that suffered from mistreatment over the years and a sleeveless blouse that was always stained. He's sure her hair was mussed up that day too. Many people would mistake her for a whore (which many people did see her as one even though she didn't outright sell her body to anyone).

"It can't be that bad," Lee tried to vouch for his former lover. Even he can name some good qualities about her; they just don't include any wifely qualities.

"It's not, but things could be better. Anytime I tell her to shape-up she gets this timid look on her face and flinches a little bit. I try to be nice and gentle but I'm losing my patience with her. I’m not looking to leave her, but what’s the point of marrying a woman who can’t do anything? She won’t even talk to me about having kids — was Florence ever like this?”

“No. Her family is from here so she’s been primed to be a housewife. But I will say it’s not all that fun havin’ a doting wife…she’s overbearing at times and I can never unwind with her around. She’s always on my ass about somethin’.”

Lee felt the need to vouch for Y/n. Anytime he would go to Tecumseh, she would accompany out back or get into his cruiser whenever he told her to. All the gritty things he dealt with at work, everything he kept inside, he dumped it on her. Florence would never sit there to listen to his grievances. Lee would never admit it, but he was vulnerable around Y/n, he knew that she would always be there to listen and he attached himself to that. In the beginning she wasn’t willingly listening to his problems but by the end she was. She took care of him when he was too drunk to go home, or she would let him take his stress and frustration out on her body. However, it doesn’t seem as if Lou is budging; his mind is made up.

“I work long hours. My father is putting more responsibilities on me. I put Y/n in that nice home, the least she could do is not serve me burnt food. Hangin’ around Florence and that Susie woman should have at least influenced her or something,” he continued to complain.

Florence was the last person that would be able to influence a girl like Y/n. Lee didn't know why his wife was seemingly grooming that girl. If anything it was just another person for her to control since Lee started telling her to knock it off. The only time she can get away with controlling her husband is if they're in the company of others where Lee has to be on his best behavior.

Y/n is not the type to be influenced by another woman. The only woman she held in high regard was her mother. Y/n listens to male authority. She listens to a man that will rough her up a little bit but then be sweet on her afterwards. She’s a little fucked up and jaded from her former “profession.” Lee knows this, but not Lou. He seems to know nothing of her past and Lee isn’t going to snitch on her.

“I can talk to Florence and see if she can do something. I know she likes taking people under her wing and shit. She seems to really like Y/n too.”

“I’d greatly appreciate that Lee. I know I sound like I’m hard on her, but I do love her. It’s hard for me to show when she just doesn’t put any effort in.”

"Don't worry. I'll talk to Florence — I'll make everything right."

[bruhlsbees]

kachow— (???)

okay, but, reader usually being extremely clingy and super lovey-dovey. and always calling Alex, or maybe Niki pet names, never by calling him by his name. and one day being distant and calling him by his name and he's just so confused??? and wonders wtf he did to upset her, but she's just playing w him and waiting for him to call her out on her attitude???

kachow || niki lauda x fem!reader

summary: after a week of being ignored you act out during a press conference to get niki's attention

pairing: niki lauda x fem!reader

word count: 2,519

warnings: smut smut smut, reader acts like a brat and niki likes it, orgasm denial, overstimulation, fingering, oral sex (f receiving), slight breeding kink, y'all this freak nasty what can i say, minors dni, 18+, nsfw

a/n: this is my first time writing for niki and i had a lot of fun!! makes me even more excited to write my niki fic!!

Niki Lauda was a serious man.

Things always had to be better than perfect for him, especially on the days where there was a race or press conference - those days, and the days leading up to it, it felt like a miracle if you could grab his attention for more than five seconds. He was so worried about making sure that he was in the right mindset for the race that he would forget about everything else, including you.

And this time was no different. The past week you woke up alone, went to bed alone, and most hours when he was free and home, the time he could’ve been spending with you, he was on the phone strategizing with Clay or someone else on the team about the track he would be racing on. So to say you were pent up was an understatement. Not only were you irritated over the busy week that left you alone, but you were also jealous - jealous of your husband’s career that let fans see him more than you - and to be truthful, you were horny as hell.

Were you thrilled when it finally hit that the love of your life was a formula one racer? That the tracks he raced on could be dangerous? No, absolutely not. You never thought that you would marry someone whose profession was racing, but it was Niki, and for some reason - the two of you clicked. But what kind of wife would you be if you took his passion away from him? Not a rather empathetic one.

But you had enough. A week was far too long and when it finally came to the day of the press conference, you decided that it was time for your husband to get the short end of the stick, to taste your anger.

Your attention had been fixed on the clock hanging up on the back wall for the past forty-eight minutes...drowning out the reporters, fans, and Niki, you sat in your thoughts to pass the time by, not bothering to keep up the doting wife facade.

It was noticed quickly, however, by those attending the press conference - although it wasn’t until Niki grabbed your thigh under the table causing you to jump that you realized they were talking to you.

Leaning forward, your mouth bumping against the microphone, the harsh ring from contact echoing the room. You shot back a little, adjusting the microphone before clearing your throat.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that.”

Laughter erupted through the room, causing you to smile weakly before listening to the reporter’s question.

“Mrs. Lauda, it’s been noticed that this week, and today especially, you have looked particularly down. Is there a reason for this? Is there a Baby Lauda on the way? Are there any issues in the bedroom or just in general between you and Niki?”

You, joined by Niki and the rest of his team that sat up in the front along the table all fell back in shock, surprised to hear such a bold question from a reporter.

It was a bad idea, you knew it, but you were so upset by the week, the reporter, everything that it just slipped out, without a second chance to stop yourself.

“I hate to be the one to say it, but it doesn’t look like Baby Lauda will be coming anytime soon,” When the murmurs began to pick up, you smiled glancing over at Niki who looked at you confused before continuing on, “As you all know my dear husband is incredibly busy with the season. He’s gone most of the day to make sure he wins and by the time he gets home I’m already in bed,” You paused again, smiling wickedly at the crowd before finally finishing. “There are no issues because there is nothing going on in the bedroom to begin with-“

“Alright, thank you Mrs. Lauda! I think that’s it for questions today. Thank you all for coming!” The mediator of the press conference rushed, standing now up at the main podium in the middle.

The awkward clapping picked up over the room while the rest of Niki’s team departed. You followed in suit, keeping in the back while the rest of the team went through the dressing room and out back towards the bus. Before you could take a step out of the dressing room, you felt a sudden tight grasp on your arm. Spinning, you looked and saw Niki in front of you, face red and seething.

“Are you ill? What the hell was that? Do you know how bad that just made me? I’m going to look like a horrible husband! Is there what you want?” He shook your arm violently, tugging you back towards him each time you tried to pull away.

“Answer me, dammit!”

You jumped back slightly from the sudden outburst that came from Niki. Of course you knew that it made him look back, but it wasn’t anything detrimental to his career…was it? He kept his gaze locked on you, waiting for you to respond. What Niki hadn’t been expecting though was the smirk that toyed on your face.

“I’m sorry, but I’m lacking the sight to see what is so funny?” His eyebrows were knitted right together, his nostrils flaring.

“Nothing funny at all, Niki. I was just thinking, you know, if you’re so worried about what the stupid press thinks, why don’t you prove them wrong?” Your free hand ran up Niki’s chest, toying with the buttons of his shirt before your eyes flicked up towards him.

At this point he didn’t look angry anymore, but pent up, frustrated with what had happened but also because it took two to do the devil’s tango - and he was missing you, whether he would admit it or not.

Then it hit him, what you were doing. Messing with him to get his attention. Niki had to admit, it was a smart move, but he was smarter and if you were thinking that you would get away with it and what you wanted, you were wrong.

His own smirk toyed on his face before he looked around the dressing room. Nobody was around and they had a few minutes to spare - because after the stunt you pulled everyone knew not to interrupt with whatever argument between the Lauda’s would spew. It wasn’t the most private, but he would make it work.

“Prove them wrong? Is that the image you are painting for me now? Niki Lauda the bad husband?” He tugged you closer to him, your face only inches away from him, you could feel the air that came from his nose hit you in the face, “Is that what you want?”

“What makes you think you weren’t already a bad husband?”

The only thing you heard was the ringing in your ears. It was deafening, the silence between you two after your joke. Your face slacked though after a while, thinking maybe you went too far.

“Niki, I-“

Before you could get your apology out, Niki grabbed onto your face with one hand, squishing your cheeks together before pulling you with him towards the couch. He turned you around and pushed back onto the couch, watching as you fell back with a huff. Niki grinned down at you before sitting on his knees, pushing your legs open.

“I’m a bad husband, yes? Bad husbands don’t let their wives feel satisfied, do they?” His thick accent was muffled in your ears by the sound of your own whimpers, watching as he reached his hands under your dress and hooked his fingers around the band of your underwear.

Niki pulled your underwear down your legs, growing frustrated when they got tangled with your heels before muttering something under his breath and tearing them into two, tossing the ripped fabric off to the side. Your mouth hung open, glaring now at him.

“Why did you- oh!”

You fell back into the couch when you felt his mouth on your cunt, his hands gripping onto your thighs to keep them open as you tried to close them around his head. Your hands were gripping the sofa cushions, moaning out as you felt Niki’s tongue swipe up and down.

As he continued to eat you out, sucking at your clit until your legs were shaking around him, your eyes began to fill with tears, feeling overstimulated with everything that was going on. Your hands sank down from the couch and down where Niki was in between your legs, your fingers running through his recently washed and styled curls.

“Niki...baby…” Your eyes rolled back into your head, whining as your climax began to rise. If you weren’t so high from the mind blowing head that Niki was giving you, you might have been able to get a cohesive sentence out.

Smirking against your cunt, Niki pulled away to look up at you, your own wetness dripping down his chin, hitting the spot on his chest that was exposed from where he didn’t button his shirt up. While he stared up at you, he took the time to slowly run his fingers along you, his thumb pressing down at your clit to rub in circles while his index and middle finger sank into you.

Hiding his grin from you, Niki turned and pressed a kiss to your thigh, biting down on the soft flesh before moving up, pressing his forehead against yours to keep your gaze locked on him.

“What does my pretty disobedient wife want? Does she want to cum around my fingers? Make a mess all over this disgusting couch?” His own ragged breath was picked up, his warm breath against your cheek as he moved his face to press against your ear, his teeth nipping at the spot behind your ear, listening to you moan and wither under him.

Your hips began to buck forward into his hand, desperately begging for more. Your hands were gripping at the front of Niki’s shirt, face pressed against his as you tried to listen to him. You didn’t want to cum around his fingers, but around his dick - his wonderful dick that you had missed all week.

“No, Niki...I want your...your…” Before you could get your words out your body flinched, toes curling as you felt your orgasm rise even more. You were so close, yet felt so empty at the same time. This wasn’t what you were thinking would happen, you were hoping he’d fuck you good, not tease you.

Usually Niki would help you out, finish your sentences for you, but he wanted to tease you good, give you a taste of your own medicine. He waited and listened, continuing to fuck you with his fingers while you desperately grabbed onto him, whimpering and whining out so pathetically.

“Say it and maybe I’ll give it to you...but only if you ask nicely.” He teased, kissing down your neck, using his left hand to open up the front of your dress, pushing your bra up roughly before latching on to your right nipple, sucking down hard.

At this point you weren’t sure how to get it out. Your words were stuck in your throat and he was overstimulating you at this point, but when he latched onto your other nipple, gripping at your right breast with his left hand, you finally had enough.

“Niki, please, oh please just fuck me already!”

Your desperate plea slowed Niki’s motions to a stop, his fingers coming to a standstill and his mouth pulling away from your breast, looking down at you.

“Am I a bad husband?” He asked, staring into your own eyes. You shook your head, your hands coming up to his face.

“No, Niki, you’re a wonderful husband...the best husband.” You breathed, leaning forward to kiss him. He didn’t kiss you back, not wanting to think he was so easily won over, but smiled against your kiss, feeling you pull away before he adjusted his spot above you.

“Say it again,” He demanded, beginning to pull at his belt and tug his pants down enough to pull his now hard dick out. “Tell me that I’m a good husband.”

You felt his dick rub against your cunt, his tip teasingly sinking into you before pulling out just as quick. Wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him close to you until his forehead hit yours again, you held his left cheek with your left hand, your right hand in his hair.

“Niki, you’re a good husband.” The quiet confession seemed to finally be enough for Niki to give you what you wanted. Snapping his hips forward suddenly, with one solid thrust he was in you, pounding you into the couch as he grunted, his hands at your hips to keep you locked onto him.

The feeling of his dick in you now was enough to send you over the edge. Clinging onto him while he rutted inside of you, the sound of his hips connecting with yours and your own wetness slapping against both of your skin filled the room along with the sounds of your moans and pants. It was rougher than usual, hurting only slightly, but you enjoyed it.

“Look at you, my pretty wife so drunk off my cock.” You heard Niki say, leaving wet kisses along your cheek and jawline, his own thrusts slowing as his legs began to shake.

You whined at the comment, moving your face to bury it in the crook of his neck while you came. Before you could sink your mouth onto his shoulder, he grabbed your face in his hand and pulled you back.

“No, you’re going to look at me when you cum. I want to see your pretty face while you cum around my cock.”

The tears continued to fall down, although you were not sad - you were hitting your breaking point, the tension in your stomach practically suffocating you. But you obeyed, locking eyes with Niki’s that were darkened by his pupils, his honey irises outlining his eyes.

He must have been close too, given how sloppy he was becoming. Niki kept his eyes locked on you as his pace quickened again, going faster than before until he let out a final grunt, cumming deep in you. You reached your own orgasm only seconds later, moaning as you clung to him, hugging him tight as your legs wrapped around his hips, shaking still from the intensity of your orgasm.

As you both came down from your high, Niki kept his position on you, not moving while he caught his breath. You pulled back from him when you felt him finally move, pulling out of you slowly, grinning down at the sight of you.

“I think we will have some news for those reporters here soon,” He said suddenly, your head tilted to the side in confusion. He shook his head, leaning forward to kiss your forehead before finally getting up to get around.

“I think Baby Lauda will be coming sooner than we expected.”

[kamotoshi]

reminders [fushiguro tōji x reader]

pairing: fushiguro tōji x fem reader

genre: fluff

warnings: a bit of swearing; brief mentions of past trauma, manipulation, and financial instability/struggles

word count: 2.3k

overview: a sunset picnic reminds him to stop for a moment and remind his wife how he truly feels about her

note: just another fic to serve as evidence for my obsession with making big, beefy 2d men with tough exteriors completely soft for their significant others (wives especially)

“Aren’t we just the cutest couple ever?”

Tōji’s eyes move from the spread of food laid out across the patterned blanket beneath the two of you over to either side of him, where a few other couples and families have set up their picnic spots for the evening, then, to your phone. A glance at the screen displaying the timed photo you’d just spent the past five to ten minutes setting the scene for and perfecting brings a smirk to his face.

“Just the right amount of nauseating.”

“Like, to the point where people are a little envious, but they don’t think we’re being too over the top, right?”

“Right.”

You hum in understanding as you pop a piece of fruit into your mouth.

“But, I would say err on the side of caution and don’t post the super lovey-dovey ones. Actually, please don’t. That’s a request now.”

Your hand flies to your chest to match the look of feigned shock on your face at his words. He doesn’t miss how the diamond on your finger sparkles in the amber glow of the setting sun. The thought crosses his mind that he wants to buy you a bigger one when he has enough money to set aside—something that would shine just a bit brighter. Almost as brightly as that beautiful smile of yours he had the pleasure of seeing each day, if he was lucky.

“You mean… I can actually post a picture that I took with my notoriously elusive husband?”

With a nod, he shifts his gaze to the horizon—or whatever he can see of it peeking around the sides of each building—for a moment. “Just know it’ll probably end my job,” is his response given with a sigh, “Nobody’ll fear me after they see that I enjoy sunset picnics with my adorable wife, now, will they?”

“Or,” you offer with a grin, scooting closer to him so his arm can snake around your waist, “it could give you an advantage, people thinking you’re kinda sweet. Like, oh, he’s a cold-blooded killer who takes care of business, but he’s got a soft side, too. And then, bam! You swoop in and they’ll never even know what hit ‘em.” Sweeping a hand dramatically across the landscape in front of you, as if you want him to picture the scene in your head, you add, “Suddenly, you’re the talk of the town. Women want you. Men want to be you. Hell, they’d probably want you too.”

“And that’s the story of how I end up on the front covers of magazines, right?”

“Exactly. This is just the start of your success story, baby.” Tenderly, you place a hand on the side of his face to bring it closer to your lips. After pecking him on the cheek, you whisper, “Just try not to forget about me when you’re famous, okay?”

He turns to look directly at you, his eyebrow raised with incredulousness in an expression you’ve seen many times before. “You kidding me? I would never. Be famous, I mean.”

The teasing smack you land on his chest doesn’t deter him from leaning down towards you to press a kiss against your lips that you readily return in spite of your complaints at his devious comment. He relishes in the sweet taste lingering on his tongue when he pulls away, and the affection present in your half-lidded gaze brings a comforting warmth over him akin to the feeling of finally crawling into bed after a long day. In his moment of distraction, you’re able to sneak in another meeting of your lips before grabbing one of the snack boxes you’d meticulously crafted and dropping it into his lap.

“Since I’m nice, unlike you, I’ll still let you eat the food lovingly prepared by your loving wife.”

“C’mon, baby,” he murmurs, giving your thigh an appreciative squeeze, “You know I love you.”

“I mean, I hope you do. You did marry me, and stick with me all these years, after all, you weirdo.”

He chuckles and pats your leg before shifting his attention to the delicious food you’d put together for the two of you, and you settle down beside him after collecting your own. His free hand plants on the ground beside your opposite hip, closing the gap between you.

Each day that he gets to spend with you he’s thankful for. But there’s something different about those where the sight of the sun slowly descending toward the horizon is beautiful enough to draw both of you out of the house to sit and watch it. He can’t quite explain it, but everything about these days feels different. The harshness of the city seems to fade away for a bit. The air smells sweeter. His breaths come a bit more deeply. The absence of your body against his in some way is felt more intensely.

In between gazing ahead at the sunset—allowing his eyes to flicker to his meal, the kids zipping past every now and then on their bikes, or other passersby—he finds his attention being drawn back to you. Each feature of your face bathed in the golden light of the sun’s last rays brings an unexpected flutter to his heart. He’s never surprised by how gorgeous you are, but, still finds himself in awe of just how lucky he is each time he stops to take it all in.

Lucky that he gets to wake up next to you and see you in those quiet moments of the morning when your eyes are still struggling to focus and your cheek is stamped with each wrinkle of your pillowcase, but you look beautiful all the same. Lucky that the arms and legs he has draped around him until you both wake up sweaty in the middle of the night are yours. Lucky to be offered a refuge wherever you are. Lucky you’re one he promised to love for the rest of his life.

In the busyness of your days, sometimes things are assumed rather than said. He assumes the parting kiss he presses to your lips each time he leaves the house translates into a small, “I love you, I’ll be back soon.” Just like he assumes the way he pulls you onto his lap while you’re sitting together, watching a movie, sends a small message of, “I need you here, close to me.” Or the pause he takes to gaze into your eyes after your more passionate displays of affection means, “I love you more than I know how to say.”

He realizes, given the risky nature of his work, that thought alone isn’t enough, though. Maybe he’s too afraid of saying something that’ll curse you for his lips to form the words he’s thinking as often as they should, but if he was one to let his life be ruled by fear, he wouldn’t be sitting with you in the first place. He would’ve let his family wreak havoc on him for the entirety of his life, weighing it down with constant reminders of his failures. He would’ve let his fear of being vulnerable keep him from getting close enough to you to fall in love with you.

Yet, here he is, making relaxed conversation with you—his wife—as the two of you sit together beneath a sea of brilliant oranges, candied pinks, and the gentlest hues of lavender. With the way you use your steadily built and strongly maintained trust in him to speak so freely and be so vulnerable without fear of judgment, he feels it’s only fair that he shows his trust in you by doing the same. That he reminds you of his feelings rather than lets the implications behind his actions speak for him.

When he decides to mention it, most of the sky has lost its fire and quite a few of the other picknickers have packed up and returned home. But the two of you choose to remain out just a bit longer in the warmth of the summer night, bathed in the sound of cicadas chirping incessantly. “Hey babe?” he calls, giving your hand resting in his a gentle squeeze as his cheek drops to the blanket so he can look at you.

“Mm?” You shift onto your side and scoot closer to him, moving your interlaced hands to your chest, holding the back of his against your gently beating heart. On instinct, your other set of fingers find his face to brush a few strands of dark hair away from his eyes, and he presses feathery kisses to your palm.

Sighing against your skin, he asks, “Do I tell you I love you enough?”

Without a moment’s hesitation, you assure him, “I know you do.”

“Because I say it?”

You hum with uncertainty, fingers gliding from the scar at the side of his mouth down his neck, and to one of his broad shoulders. “More because I can see it in the way you look at me. But, then again, I also see you look at a really good meal the same way. Makes me kinda jealous sometimes,” is your answer given with a small, teasing smile, “Besides, I feel like I can safely assume that you’ve stayed with me all these years because you love me, right?”

“Of course,” he says, the strength in his voice contrasting the subtle, pained look behind his eyes, “But I don’t say it enough, do I?”

There’s a short pause before you murmur, “Not usually unless I say it first. But it tends to be more of a reflex for both of us, anyway. Like, ‘I’m heading out now, love you!’ or, ‘Goodnight, I love you,’ y’know?”

A gentle tug on your wrist pulls you towards him, until you’re propped up on both elbows, body leaning over his. Wrapping an arm around your waist brings your chests flush against one another and your faces mere centimeters apart. The way he’s regarding you as nothing else is as important as you are to him in this moment has you melting into the kiss he plants on your lips.

“You’re the love of my life.” Heat radiates from your chest all the way up to your face at his tenderly spoken words accompanied by his thumb skimming along your cheekbone. “And you deserve to hear me tell you how much I care about you more often because you’re the only person who’s made me feel deserving of love.”

The hand on your back slowly moves up and down, his fingers tracing along your spine. It was once deemed as a mindless behavior in your eyes, but after many years with him, you’ve come to learn that sometimes it’s a means of comforting himself or finding the courage to speak about something that’s been on his mind. To reassure him, you place a soft peck against the corner of his mouth and run your fingertips across his jaw.

He seems to find the strength he needs to speak the rest of his truth, since he continues, “I remember being terrified when I first realized how much I loved you. Because here I was, thinking I was only gonna marry someone as a way of erasing my connections to my family, and that falling in love would weaken me—make me easier to be manipulated—but you changed my mind. And I don’t think there’s a damn thing that could ever happen to make me wish I did things differently, even though we got married young, when we barely had enough money to our names to get ourselves through the week.”

A pang of somewhat bittersweet nostalgia ripples through you at the memories of sleeping on the floor, clinging to one another to keep warm during the cold, winter nights. Of how you’d both worked so tirelessly to make a living that sometimes all you’d do was cry into his shoulder when you got home. But soon, there was a couch. A bed. A table. A lamp that didn’t flicker. Then, a new place in a safer part of the city, filled with all the furniture and appliances you could need. Jobs that paid enough for the tears to subside.

The impulsiveness the two of you had displayed in your early twenties had gotten you into a lot of sometimes unbearable situations, but you wouldn’t have changed a thing had you somehow been granted the power to alter the past. While unpleasant, those events had helped the two of you get to where you are today, happier and more in love than ever.

“After all we’ve been through, and that you’ve stuck with me through, I at least owe it to you to remind you how much you mean to me instead of just assuming you know. Because you really do mean the world to me. So, this is me telling you that I love and appreciate you a lot more than I might feel capable of saying sometimes, but that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t try.”

With that same, bright smile of yours that he adores, you take your weight off your elbows to wrap your arms around him while he gives your body a tight squeeze in return. “I love you so much, Tōji,” you hum, heart swelling with joy.

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

There’s a few moments of peaceful silence while the two of you remain wrapped up in a tight and much-needed embrace. Eventually, a deep exhale fans across your neck before he mentions, “That was pretty cheesy, huh?”

“Just a bit. But I promise not to tell anyone you’re secretly a bit of a sap, okay?” you comment, sending the two of you into a small fit of snickers. Your tone is more serious, however, when you mention, “It made me really happy to hear, though.”

“Good,” is his response as he moves his head so he can press his mouth to your temple. His next words are spoken quietly, as if just to himself, and nearly lost beneath the layers of environmental noise surrounding you, but you’re glad you hear them.

“That’s all that matters to me.”

[silverynight]

okay so maybe a prompt where the hashira are incredibly jealous because tanjiro (with long hair) only lets zenitsu, inosuke, and nezuko touch it and gets defensive when other people touch it??

like the hashira run in to visit him and they are like 🤏😩 just a crumb but tanjiro refused to be touched and THEY JUS GET ANGRY POSSESSIVE AND THEY ALL END UP BULLYING THE KAMABOKO SQUAD 😭

Sometimes Zenitsu wishes Tanjirou wasn't so... oblivious. It's actually unbelievable how someone with a nose like his can't notice almost all the hashira are really soft for him.

To Zenitsu it was upsetting at first, he used to think the attention Tanjirou got from them was because they considered him more talented than other demon slayers.

But now that he's learned how to listen clearly he knows the sound of their hearts are caused by something more personal.

The problem with the knowledge that comes from his sense of hearing is that he knows now how to see as well.

He can see that Tomioka stares fondly at Tanjirou (especially when he's not looking) and that Rengoku smiles gently, sincerely at him and listens with undivided attention to everything he has to say. Tokito is more patient with him than with any other person and certainly more willing to praise him than any other demon slayer. Uzui mentions every time that his wives miss him dearly in an attempt to get him to go to his house.

Then, Tanjirou grows his hair and the Pillars seem to be mesmerized by it. Well, it's true that Tanjirou's hair is beautiful and really soft to the touch (Zenitsu has touched it a couple of times) but he really thinks they just love everything about Tanjirou.

Now, the problem is that Tanjirou only lets Nezuko, Zenitsu and even Inosuke touch it.

He's not so sure why exactly, perhaps he doesn't trust other people enough to let them do it or maybe (and he truly believes this is what happens with the hashira) it's that sees them way superior compared to him.

Well... They are of course, the Pillars have trained for years and killed many demons with incredible strength, but that doesn't mean they don't want the same things other people want.

Maybe if Tanjirou knew how much they would love to touch or brush his hair, he wouldn't jump away the second someone offers to help him with it.

He actually enjoys having a privilege only few people have, but when Kanroji walks towards Tanjirou with a hopeful expression, staring at Tanjirou's messy, long hair falling all over his shoulders, Zenitsu starts changing his mind.

"Tanjirou! I can braid your hair if you want!"

Seeing the love hashira so close makes Tanjirou take a sudden step back. He touches his own hair, almost defensively, but smiles and bows at her.

"There's no need, Kanroji-san! Nezuko will help me!"

He doesn't notice, but Zenitsu can almost hear the crack that comes with Kanroji's broken heart.

So... He starts feeling sorry for them. Especially after seeing Rengoku's eyes filled with longing every time Tanjirou walks by and tells him he doesn't need any help with his hair. He notices the way Uzui's look follows Tanjirou's ponytail, probably thinking about adding a few pieces of jewelry to make it more flamboyant and the way Tomioka crosses his arms over his chest, almost like he wants to stop himself from even thinking about touching the young demon slayer.

However, the sorry he feels doesn't last long because then the hashira start getting annoyed at him and Inosuke for being allowed to do something they are dying for.

Zenitsu finds out they're jealous and possessive and he starts getting scared; the glares he gets don't help at all so he avoids touching Tanjirou's hair as much as he can.

But then, even Inosuke notices that Tanjirou's hair is something the Pillars crave so he starts using this knowledge in his favor.

Surprisingly, Inosuke is really gentle whenever he touches Tanjirou's hair, he used to brush it whenever Tanjirou asked him to, but now he does it every time the hashira are around.

He wants to fight one of them and he's doing an excellent job at pissing them off that Zenitsu is afraid he could get what he wants soon.

Just days later it looks like Inosuke is finally going to get his ass kicked by Shinazugawa, but Tanjirou walks in between them just in time.

"Whatever he did, I'm sure he didn't actually mean it!" He says obliviously, because he doesn't know everything is actually... because of him.

At least, the Pillars try to control themselves from then on, Zenitsu can hear the dark sounds their blood makes because they can't stop themselves from getting jealous, but they know a fight is something Tanjirou wouldn't like.

He doesn't feel sorry for them anymore... Well, sometimes. Like now that he's sitting next to Nezuko's wooden box, watching with a bit of pity how the hashira gather around a very excited Tanjirou as he tells them exactly what happened in his latest mission.

He hears the longing in their hearts and watches as, even though most of them are smiling, they're almost stopping themselves from reaching out to Tanjirou because they know (after a couple of failed attempts) that he doesn't want to be touched.

Not by them at least, which must hurt even more.

The yearning gets too intense and painful to watch that Zenitsu covers his eyes for a moment. He refuses to feel sorry, no matter how sad it is because he remembers the glares he used to get before.

"We've been through a lot. All of us."

Even though he heard her approaching, Zenitsu still gets startled when Kocho sits right next to him. The insect hashira smiles at him and he inevitably blushes in response.

"Well... You should understand. You must've been through a lot yourself, as well as your friends," she continues.

Kocho is very smart and she clearly has figured out a thing or two about what's going on.

"Tanjirou is one of the few good things that has happened to the hashira in a while," she says, still smiling softly at him. "He is truly a sunshine, don't you think?"

Zenitsu sighs, because he knows what she wants now and that he's going to give in soon. Also, she's right... Zenitsu felt like his future was completely dark until Tanjirou found him.

Of course the Pillars don't want to lose him. They want to feel connected to him and they want to show him that they care.

Almost like he forgets he is not allowed to touch for a moment, Rengoku takes a step closer and reaches out, but he lets his arm fall at his side quickly before Tanjirou realizes what's going on.

The flame hashira looks like he's in pain.

"Fine!" Zenitsu says, irritated. "I'll help them!"

"You're a good boy," Kocho mumbles, making him blush again.

She thinks this is about them, but the truth is that Zenitsu is going to help them because he believes that would be good for Tanjirou too. Because he truly cares about the Pillars.

***

Patreon

[shhhlikeme]

Getting Railed By Your Jealous Bf Ushijima After He Meets Your Childhood Ex (Who Wants You Back!)📱📞

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Birthday Event Req By @juminly :

So I was trying to request the following >.<: a NSFW Ushi drabble with f!reader. Ushi being triggered by jealousy or something that happened between f!reader and someone else? I initially wrote a few kinks and you could go ahead with whatever inspires you! [cockwarming, face-sitting, blowjob, mirror sex, bondage, dirty talk or anything else tbh... and soft!dom!ushi]

———————————

A/N: I’m glad we overcame the technical difficulties for you to eventually send this req. hope you like it babes. I still have 2 more reqs from the event that shouldn’t take too long, thanks for being patient!

(NSFW 18+)

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Getting Railed By Your Jealous Bf Ushijima After He Meets Your Childhood Ex (Who Wants You Back!)📱📞

———————————

Sooooooooo

It’s canon that Ushi is a very calm and collected bf

Your friends love him 💕

Your pet loved him 💕

And your family loves him

Or that’s what Ushi always thought...... until tonight.

You and Toshi went to your parents house for an elegant middle aged people dinner party they were throwing with all their friends from the neighborhood

Ushijima wore a suit and everything 💜💜💜 you wore in a beautiful green dress and small heels to match him

CUTIES

The dinner party was great: 🎶 classy , bougie, ratchet extremely classy haha 💎

Until.......

your parent’s best friends’ son—Jeremy—happened to be home too.

Actually , he surprised everyone, crashing the party unexpectedly

And he brought gifts🤨.

Making a huge entrance that had everyone screaming in delight and hugging him, Ushijima couldn’t help but feel a little jealous of the way your family fawned over your childhood friend

Your parents can’t help but gush over Jeremy, because they’ve always wanted you to marry him and move with him to America to study cosmetic surgery

In high school you two dated a little, but then you realized it was all for the benefit of your parents and you agreed to break up but remained distant friends

You were good with that , as you thought it was a mutual decision

But it wasn’t. Jeremy truly had feelings for you and they hadn’t stopped just because he moved away and finished med school

“These are for you, Y/N.” Jeremy smoothly handed you a bouquet of your favourite type of flowers

You hadn’t the heart to tell him your favourite type had changed since high school :S

“And Wakatoshi-san, I didn’t know you would be here. Apologies.” He shook his hand.

Ushijima’s face was hard. “I don’t know why I would not be.....?” He answered with a slight eyebrow raise, squeezing Jeremy’s hand right back.

Hose down that fire Y/N

Anyway, even though your parents like Ushi a lot, it was pretty obvious to you AND your boyfriend that both them + Jeremy’s parents never gave up hope that you two would one day get back together

Not to mention They were as subtle as elephants in a library

They got the fucking photo album, showing everyone including Ushijima pictures of you and Jeremy bathing together as babies and kissing before prom

SMFH!

“Oh, you live in Beverly Hills, now?” Your mom’s eyes sparkled at Jeremy as he showed her pictures of his mansion on his phone. “Y/N looooves that part of Los Angeles, don’t you, honey?”

You noticed Ushijima stiffen. He was thinking about the love of his life, you, living in LA in Jeremy’s ugly mansion and it pissed this Ace off.

You nodded slowly, giving your mom a warning glance. “Sure, when I was 15.”

“Hey Jeremy, your father told me last weekend that you know of bunch of players on the LA Rams?”

Jeremy nodded proudly. “Yes sir. A lot of their wives and mothers are patients of mine, so the starting line up usually sends me Christmas cards with season passes and signed memorabilia so that I up their women on the waiting lists. Whenever you’re in America and you’d like to go see a game, just let me know.”

You rolled your eyes at how loud your father exclaimed in joy. “I keep telling you to call me YF/N!” He clapped. “And that’s a real sport right there. Football, Baseball, Soccer. Everything else is a joke to real men.” Your father finished.

“DAD!” You chastised, stomping your foot under the table.

“What—?”

You glowered are him. “In case you FORGOT.....Ushijima happens to be a professional volleyball player.”

Your dad had clearly forgotten, trying to blubber out an apology. Ushijima interrupted him, putting a hand on yours to settle his furious girlfriend.

“That’s quite alright, sir. I took no offence to it.” Ushi was used to other men not recognizing volleyball as a manly sport—he is very confident so that didn’t bother him. Rather, what stung was the fact that your father had never asked Toshi to call him by his first name before, and you two had been dating for three years.

To your dismay, Yours and Jeremys parents continued to say annoying shit like that all night

Jeremy loved it 🙄

You hated it, and defended your man at any chance you got

Ushijima stayed silent through it all, trying to calm you down actually.

Like I said he’s confident and not easily shaken

He only had had enough when the conversation changed to Jeremy’s explanation of liking his life and his career but it all never seeming good enough because of “the one that got away” and how “she seems happy in a relationship now” but “he would do anything to get her back”

Meanwhile he’s sneaking heartfelt glances at you 🤬🤬🤬🤢

Your mother and father were doting, looking at you and eachother as if to say “come onnnnn Y/N give him another chance”

Ushijima picked up on it all.

At one point during Jeremy’s explanation of ‘the one that got away’ you stuck your finger down your throat to make a gagging noise childishly

YOUR PARENTS WERE NOT HAPPY LMAO

anyway, at the end of the night you said bye to everyone..... and Jeremy asked to speak to you in private on the empty porch

Ushijima watched with a locked jaw by the car, leaning on it so he could stare openly

He was justly heated as he watched the conversation (but couldn’t hear anything) happening on the porch at night

He witnessed Jeremy write down what had to be his number and hold it in front of you for you to take

You hesitated, not sure if you should take it just to avoid causing more waves with both parents or to stomp on his foot

Luckily you didn’t need to do either because Ushijima had silently stormed over in a millisecond, whisking the paper from Jeremy’s hand, staring at his number written on the paper before crumbling it and throwing it over his shoulder.

“She doesn’t need it. Goodnight, Jeremy.”

Ushi grabbed your hand and walked you to the car angry af, you had to jog in your heels to keep up with him

This man was maaad and silent the whole way home, thinking about how everyone seems to be so sure that your ex could have given you a better life

He still held your hand the entire drive though, so clearly he wasn’t mad at you ❤️

He hated that everyone liked this Jeremy better all because he went down the conventional path to success:

Hadn’t Toshi paid for everything? Hadn’t Toshi massaged your feet? Hadn’t Toshi made you extremely happy? Hadn’t they seen how you were treated? Did you believe someone could do better?

Nonsense.

Toshi knew that he was the BEST boy and that no one could dare love you more or treat you better....... and you tended to agree

But Toshi needed to hear you say it.

He needed to feel it, too.

Upon arriving at yours & Toshi’s gorgeous modern home:

Toshi hurriedly closed the door

you hadn’t even fully taken off your heels yet when you felt your boyfriend pressed himself against you from behind, lifting your dress up and rubbing his long hard cock print on your pantied pussy lips as you bent over

You moaned and started to get wet immediately

“Take off the panties.” He ordered.

you did obviously 😭 almost tripped with how fast you did it

Horny bish lol

Your boyfriend then picked you up in his strong arms and walked a few steps into the foyer, placing you so your ass was sitting on the 7th marble stair. He knelt down in between your legs and spread them while you sat on the staircase

He squeezed your ass in his large hands and dove into your pussy with his lips then tongue, immediately skipping the gentle licks... and tongue fucking your entrance into oblivion

His tongue was wet, strong and needy and fuck you choked on your own cries

You threw your head back, already screaming Ushi’s name

“Mmm scream my name just like that. Let everyone hear who you belong to.” He paused tongue fucking you to order.

you shuddered as you felt his warm breath on your clit and Ushi expertly enclosed his mouth around your sopping cunt, French kissing your clit into his mouth and sucking on it like a tiny lollipop

You tugged on his hair and screamed his name louder, feeling your interior walls clench

Once your legs started shaking because you were about to fall over the edge, Ushi picked you up again, making you wrap your legs around his waist

Toshi bent down quickly to empty his pockets which consisted of his keys, wallet, and his phone, placing it where you were just sitting when he was eating you out

Ushiwaka pressed your back against the wall beside the staircase.....

He held your entire body weight with one arm as he leaned in to kiss your neck, using his other hand to unbuckle his belt and kick his pants off

When he was freed & nude, he asked you kindly if you were ready and once you nodded he put one of his feet on the sixth stair, the other on the fifth, then thrusted deep into your soaking heat

He wasted no time in pounding you into the wall, the slight pain of the hard wall and your boyfriend’s hard dick somehow heightening the pleasure factor

Ushijima took both of your wrists in his gigantic hand and locked them above your head as he gave you nice and deep thrusts the way you both like it

“So fucking wet. All because of me, correct? I’m the only one who makes your pussy drip like this.”

Your pussy answered:💧 💧💧💧💧💧💧💧

Your vaginal walls squeezed around his dick and you bit his shoulder because the pleasure disallowed you to speak and Ushi groaned out

“Say. This. Tight. Pussy. Is. Mine.” He grunted as he circled his hips a bit while pounding, his voice grave.

Toshi picked up the pace as your soaking wet walls clenched around him even more from his dirty talk.

“Say. Who. This. Pussy. Belongs. To. Beautiful.”

You were being fucked too well, you couldn’t speak, you could only moan ... like usual

But your boyfriend wasn’t having any of that tonight.

He let go of your captive wrists and held you with both hands again, stepping downstairs and stopping in front of the large mirror in your foyer, turning so that only you could see yourself poking over his large shoulder, along with your boyfriend’s fine juicy ass and back calf muscles 🤤

Ushi grabbed the back of your neck (not enough to hurt) but just enough so that your head was up and you were looking at yourself in the mirror. He began to fuck you again, getting nice and deep in your pussy as he made you bounce on his dick in his arms

“Are you seeing yourself?” He laughed sexily. “Getting dumb-fucked, Princess? Whose dick are you taking, Y/N?” Wakatoshi groaned as your pussy clenched around him even more. He could tell you were about to cum and that he wouldn’t be long after. But he needed to hear you say something first.

“Who is your first choice, Y/N? Who fucks you like this every night? Who’s dick can you never get enough of? Me? Or Him?”

In your stupor, you watched yourself in the mirror: Toshi’s delectable ass flexing as he pushed in and out of you, feeling his strong hand gripping your neck. You weren’t a big talker during sex and bae knew that, but the amazing feeling of this angry jealous sex was too much, his big dick felt too fucking good..... and one particularly hard thrust from him that grazed your g-spot in the besssst way gave you the energy to cry out;

“YOU, TOSH. FUCK THAT JEREMY, HE COULD NEVER FUCK ME LIKE YOU DO. OR TAKE CARE OF ME LIKE YOU DO. I DON’T WANT OR NEED ANYONE ELSE BUT YOU. YOU’RE THE BEST BOY WITH THE BEST DICK. NO ONE CAN EVEN C-COME CLOSE TO YOU. YOU —OH, OH, OH MY GOD, I’M GONNA—“

Wakatoshi let go of your neck, landing soft kisses on your neck while he returned to gripping your ass with both hands now, sliding you up and down his long, hard, soaking wet dick from your juices.

It felt so fucking good 😩

“That’s right princess. I’ve heard enough, baby. I knew it: I just needed to hear you say it. Now cum for me.”

when you did, you made sure to scream out all the praises you always told toshi when you weren’t getting fucked, making him feel like a King, reassuring him that your mind, body, and soul belonged to him and NO ONE else.

Wakatoshi found his release soon after from your pussy but also from your words, shooting his thick cum up inside you for you to take as he caressed your back and whispered how much he loved you in your ear.

Then, as you laid limp in his arms, he left his cock to stay warm inside you and went back to the stairs, fully prepared to go head up and bathe you, then put you to bed.

But as he passed the sixth step, though, Toshi bent down to pick up his keys, wallet and phone that he’d set there.

As you fell asleep on his shoulder, Ushi grinned at his phone screen, pressing send to the voicemail message he’d just recorded.

Whoops 😏 must have accidentally butt-dialed someone before fucking you and left a long message by accident

😕ohno😕

With a photographic memory, it wasn’t difficult for the Ace to remember such a plastic surgeon’s phone number when Ushi saw it on the note.....

And Toshi could explain to you how sorry he was that he’d accidentally dialed it before railing you to sleep on the stairs and in the foyer

But truth be told, your boyfriend’s only real regret would be not being able to see the look on Jeremy’s face when he listened to it on his flight back home.

Bday Event Masterlist

[beauvibaby]

fight - m.barzal

Requested: [x] yes [] no

request-hi!! can you write something with mat where you guys get into a really bad fight and are on the verge of breaking up and all the WAGS and shocked and they’re comforting you and all the boys are just trying to knock some sense into mat about the whole argument

a/n: thank you @softstarkey for helping with the argument!! 🥺

You sat, watching as Mat spoke to her. some of the other girlfriends and wives huddled around you at the table. “Earth to Y/N.” Sydney snapped her fingers in front of you. Her hand rested way too close to his on the bar, was he really that oblivious, or was he simply trying to brush it off. “Seriously, you’ve both been off all night, you practically ran from each other when you got here.” She sighed, looking at you for an explanation, “do I need to send my Matt over there?” She added with a glare towards the back of your boyfriends head. Normally you would laugh at this, but when you stayed silent she looked over to see your tear filled eyes. “Oh, honey.” She gasped, sliding closer to you. “What happened?” You gave her a look and began to tell her all about the fight.

“Mat, I don’t like that.” You spoke pointedly, arms crossed as you looked at your boyfriend who had just been messaging a girl on Instagram, better yet, a former fling. “She’s not doing any harm.” He replied, raising a brow as he looked you up and down, “you look pretty.” He added, in hopes of digging himself out of the hole he threw himself in, you scoffed, “nice try, Barzal.” You sighed, it was about time for you guys to be leaving for the bar, meeting up with your friends but apparently your time would be better spent arguing. “I’m not trying to be one of those girls, but I don’t like you talking to her.” You explained, seeing how quickly it got under his skin, “you don’t trust me?” He retaliated. You pinched the bridge of your nose, “I trust you, I don’t trust her.” You stepped closer to him, shocked when he stepped back, an almost disgusted look on his face. “If you trust me you shouldn’t worry, it’s that simple.” His words stung, like he had never been weary of certain guys you spoke too, “it’s not that simple! Mat you used to fuck her before you met me, and now all of a sudden she’s sliding into your dms, clearly she wants to hookup.” You snapped, his eyebrows shooting up at your choice of words. “So classy, Y/N.” He muttered, “it’s true! Does it make you feel better if I say you had sex with her? Is that better for you?” You defended, an edge to your voice that you hadn’t had to use in an argument in a long time. “You’re really going to do this? Now? We need to leave.” Mat responded, tugging at his hair, trying to keep himself from snapping. “Yes, we’re doing this now! Can’t you see why it bothers me? I’m not saying you can’t talk to any girls, I’m just trying to tell you she’s not being innocent.” You spoke, trying to keep your voice level, he wasn’t looking at you when he spoke, you caught part of what he said. Insecure.

“What?” You quipped, stepping in front of him. “Nothing.” He mumbled, but you wouldn’t give it up that easy. “Say it to my face, Mathew.” You snapped, he met your gaze, and you could see the look in his eyes, the one he gets during games when he’s pissed, the one where his sense of right and wrong disappears. “You’re just being insecure, and jealous.” The words stung worse than a slap to the face. You didn’t move, you stared blankly at him, had he really thrown that in your face, something he knew you struggled with when you started dating him. “Right, should I be insecure? Should I be jealous? ‘Cause she’s more of your type than me? Thanks for reminding me.” You seethed, his face fell, “that’s not, you are, are you serious?” He went through a range of emotions, settling back on anger. “You’re asking me if I’m serious? When you just threw the biggest insecurity I have in my face? Yes I’m serious.” You deadpanned, walking past him, he watched as you grabbed your clutch, slipping your wedges on, “what are you doing?” He questioned, walking closer to you. “We are going to the bar to meet our friends, because otherwise we’re going to be late, and I’m afraid we are both going to say even more things we regret.” You spoke, your voice cracking at the end. He didn’t say anything, only nodded with a straight lipped look, walking out the door, not waiting for you. A tear slipped from your eye, you quickly dabbed it away, pushing your anger and more importantly, your heart break aside. He was standing by the elevator, you knew he could tell you wanted to cry, he always knew, and he never, not even during your biggest of fights, he didn’t ever ignore it, until tonight.

Sydney stared at you in shock, “he’s an idiot.” She snapped, taking a long sip of her drink as she glared at the girl who was still attempting to flirt with Mat, the girl. The one from Instagram, coincidence that she was here, you wouldn’t believe that for a second. “Sydney, Sydney, what are you doing?” You gasped, grabbing her hand when she stood up, “I’m not going to say anything to him, I’m just going to tell Matt to see what’s up.” She assured you, she wasn’t going to sit here and do nothing. You watched her walk over to the group of guys, she placed a quick kiss to her husbands lips before speaking in his ear, he looked over to you, a knowing look on his face. He nodded, placing his hand on her back for a moment as he said something in return, she smiled up at him brightly before bouncing back over to you. “He’ll talk some sense into him.” She assured you, “drink.” She demanded, sliding your glass over to you, you had barely touched it for the whole hour you’ve been here. “You need to take the edge off.” She whispered, seeing the way your eyes widened as a couple of the guys approached Mat. “Don’t let him catch you looking.” She chastised, nudging your shoulder. “I don’t know if I want to go home with him tonight.” You admitted, your heart shattering at the words, “I need to use the bathroom.” You whimpered, rushing to your feet, of course, you had to walk right past the guys to get to it. Mat had his back to you, so he didn’t catch the tears in your eyes, but Tito did, his eyes lingering a moment too long, Mat looked back and saw you rushing away, guilt hitting him like a truck.

“What’s the deal?” Tito snapped, catching his friends attention, “what?” Mat played dumb, “Y/N just ran off crying, you guys have stayed away from each other all night, normally you don’t let her out of your sight.” Tito raised his eyebrows. “Sydney said Y/N is upset, what did you do?” Martin sighed, Mat looked between the two guys, feeling the guilt eat away at him completely. “Fuck.” He muttered running a hand through his hair again. “She got mad because I was talking to a girl on Instagram.” Mat admitted, “hey!” He snapped when Martin slapped the back of his head. “Why the hell would you do that when you’ve got her right there?” He quipped, Tito nodding in agreement. “There’s more.” Mat whispered, “oh Jesus.” Tito shook his head, “I said she was being insecure and jealous, it was someone I used to have a fling with.” Mat spoke barely above a whisper but he was certain his friends heard him when he looked up and they were staring at him like he was joking. “You’re fucking joking right?” Martin quipped, setting his beer down, crossing his arms as he looked to the younger boy. “I know, I know, I’m an idiot.” Mat groaned, covering his face in his hands, “a huge idiot.” Tito piped up, he had grown close to you, seeing you quite often as he was Mat’s best friend around here. “She was crying when we left the apartment, but I was too pissed to say anything.” Mat added, figuring he might as well spill all the dirt, since they already knew everything else. “Sydney.” Martin cautioned when his wife stomped over, “she doesn’t know I’m telling you this, and she better never find out, but she told me she doesn’t want to go home with you tonight, so you better go fix this. Now.” She demanded and no one missed the way Mat’s face fell when he heard that his own girlfriend didn’t want to go home with him. “Y/N!” Mat called, he saw you trying to sneak back to your table, but you froze when you heard his voice. “Baby, I’m-“ “Don’t baby me, Mat, I don’t want to do this here.” You cut him off, turning to face him.

“Please, can we just go outside and talk?” He asked, reaching for your hand, you shook your head. “No, Mat, I can’t, not tonight, I think I’m just going to go to my place for a few days.” It was almost as if the both of you had forgotten you even had your own studio apartment, you were always at Mat’s or even if it was your place, he was there, and the thought of being without him made you uneasy, but you couldn’t stand to look at him anymore. You leaned up, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek, lingering for a moment before stepping back, forcing yourself to keep it together until you got outside of the bar, already ordering an Uber as the tears started to flow.

***

Two days, two days has felt like an eternity, Mat had reached out both days, multiple times, you’d give him one word answers or no answers at all.

“Are you coming to the game?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Work.”

He knew it was lies, he knew you were angry and he was growing tired of this, he was trying to avoid going over there without your permission, not wanting to push any further. You jumped as the buzzer to your apartment went off, you walked over to the box, you knew deep down whose voice was going to come across the line. You pushed the button, “hello?” You spoke, “Y/N, please let me in, we need to talk.” Mat rushed, afraid you would hang up. You didn’t say anything, buzzing him in and waiting by the door, anxiously bouncing on your feet, you heard him stop outside the door, and you couldn’t help yourself, you unlocked it swinging it open before he could even knock. You took in the disheveled look of his hair, eyes trailing down to his, seeing how tried he looked, before seeing him in sweatpants and a hoodie, and as terrible as it sounds you were so glad he looked as bad as you felt. “Y/N, I’m an idiot, I don’t know why I said that, it’s the farthest thing from the truth. I was just trying to be nice to her and I told myself she wasn’t trying to come in between us, but you were right, god baby I’m sorry.” He rushed, stepping into your apartment as you just stood there in shock. “You’re the best person for me, I can’t believe I let you think otherwise, and you’re so much prettier than any of those god awful girls are.” He spoke again, stepping over to you, he reached for your hand to take it off the door so he could shut it. You allowed him to, trying to think of words, but nothing came to your mind. “Y/N, talk to me.” Mat whispered, grabbing your chin to tilt your head up to meet his eyes. “Baby.” He mumbled, watching as you squeezed your eyes shut. “You’re not the one who’s supposed to make me feel like that.” You whimpered, and he was so glad your eyes were shut as he was certain his were glazed over at the hurt tone in your voice.

“I know.” He had nothing else to say, he knew he messed up, he knew it was wrong. “How am I supposed to know you won’t do that again?” You finally opened your eyes, letting the few tears fall so your vision could adjust. “You have to trust me, do you still trust me?” He whispered, cupping your face, you bit your lip, nodding slowly. “I love you so much, you’re the best thing that happened to me, I was so dumb, so fucking dumb to even say those things.” He pulled you against his chest, you hesitated but wrapped your arms around him, hiding your face in the fabric of his hoodie. “My girl, my beautiful girl.” He sighed against your hair, “please don’t let me stay away from you again, I slept like shit.” You admitted, earning a deep laugh from him. “No, never.” He tilted your head up and kissed you, god how you missed this. “I love you too.” You finally answered from earlier, barely moving away from him. He smiled against your lips, chasing them when you pulled away. “No, nope, you’re not going anywhere.” He mumbled, wrapping his arms around your waist keeping you locked in place. He had a grin on his face that would never go away as long as he had you like this, wrapped up in his arms and head thrown back in laughter.

taglist: @softstarkey​ @mtkachuk​ @literarycharleton​ @wtfkie​

[ana-benn]

I seriously want Jamie to just come and grab me, whipser in my ear that I'm his, that he owns me and always will. FUCK.

Holy FUCK...

I need a minute.....

Okay. This turned into a whole ass smutty, possessive, domineering fic. This totally messed up my planned fics too, but you know what? I don't even care. You send something like this you jump the line 🥵 So.... You're welcome?

Stupid Possessive Man

It's been well established that Jamie doesn't play nicely with others. But sometimes you have to remember that can translate off ice too. It all started because of stupid ego-centric male jealousy too. Which was both hot, and slightly annoying if you were honest. You loved seeing Jamie this worked up, but also hated feeling like a piece of meat. It was a strange place to be.

It had started innocently enough you'd shown up with Jamie to Tyler's BBQ, and immediately gotten swept up in his charisma. Tyler had shown you where you could stick your overnight bag, as he didn't want any of the team leaving afterwards, since everyone knew how much alcohol was involved in a Seguin party. He'd left you and Jamie to change into swimwear and went downstairs. You'd taken your suit into the bathroom to change, it didn't matter how many times he'd seen you naked if it wasn't sexual you just felt uncomfortable. Jamie knew this and gave you your space, while he changed in the bedroom.

You'd chosen a flattering bikini that was also actually functional for swimming, wanting to actually have fun, and a bright orange cover up.

(because olive and orange is hott, you can't change my mind... Also I bought this so yeah)

When you stepped out you felt Jamie give you a once over before he asked, "You didn't happen to pack something else did you? I'm going to have to fight my own teammates," you laughed, and handed him the sunscreen.

"Here, you'll be the lucky one who gets to touch first," you smirked at his little scowl. He took his time, and ran his fingers over your body, long after the lotion was absorbed.

"I'd better be the only one who gets to touch," he growled out in your ear.

You have him a cheeky wink, as you threw on your coverup, "Guess we'll see."

With that you walked downstairs towards the party, chuckling as Jamie grabbed the towels and headed down after you. It was so easy to rile him up at times. You made it downstairs and staked out a couple of tanning chairs for you and Jamie, although you knew at most he'd sit there for a little while with you before one of the guys pulled him somewhere for a man-contest Tyler's parties were known for.

Exactly as predicted you'd just flipped onto your stomach when Jamie was called over to have a ping pong contest. You rolled your eyes playfully and swatted him away. He gave you a big grin and jogged over to play. It wasn't long before several other guys and their wives or girlfriends showed up. You got to talking with them, comparing notes on what they'd been doing since the season ended. A few of the guys inevitably would wander over and check in, but for the most part the party was easily divided between guys and girls. It was almost comical how like highschool it felt.

Eventually you and a few of the other ladies got into the pool, which brought a few guys in. You noticed Jamie had disappeared, but quickly were pulling into a game. Tyler had the bright idea to play chicken, and Joe and Sarah were onboard. As the reigning champs from last summer, they felt confident.

Tyler came over to you as everyone started pairing off, "Come on, let's partner up. Jamie's inside kicking everyone's ass at Mario Kart." You smirked at that. He really was ruthless at any competition, and he definitely loved beating his teammates.

So you agreed, and climbed up on Tyler's shoulders. The next twenty minutes or so were spent with splashing and laughter as those of you who decided to play fought tooth and nail to stay up. You didn't even notice Jamie coming back outside, fresh off a Mario Kart ultimate victory. A particularly hard shove had you lock your ankles around Tyler, just as you noticed Jamie. The hard look in his eyes sent a very clear message though, he was jealous.

Now a good wife would've probably gone over and reassured him, a better wife probably wouldn't have even played the game with Tyler, but you weren't that kind of wife. You craved his raw power and dominance, and it sent a chill up your spine to know that the worse you made this the better it would be. If he was smarter you knew that he would've figured out by now when you were purposely pushing his buttons, but if he had one blind spot it was definitely in his ability to control the possessive jealousy that ran white hot in his veins. So you made it your mission to be a touchy feely as possible with anyone you could.

Tyler needs someone to help him with the grill? You were right there getting platters or whatever for him as you placed a gentle hand on his arm. Ben needed a new beer? All of a sudden you're feeling super hospitable and you jump up to grab him one, making sure to put a hand on his shoulder and bend down to hand it to him. Anton decided to do a cannon ball off the side of the pool? Obviously the splash would be bigger if you held hands and jumped together.

As it was right now you were laughing with Andrea, and sipping your most recent glass of sangria as she was telling you about their trip. You felt hands wrap around your waist, and startled slightly before you recognized the strong hands on your hips. You vaguely recognized Andrea smirk as she left you two alone.

Jamie stood like that for a moment, before leaning into your ear, "You're mine little girl, and I'm not letting you go. So here's what's going to happen, you're going to put my shirt on, and then we're going to sit with our friends around the fire pit. You're going to put your cute little ass in my lap, and I'm going to stuff you with my cock. If you're good, when we get upstairs I'm going to fuck you. Got it?"

You couldn't breathe, let alone speak, so you did exactly what he said. Grabbing your coverup as well to drape over your legs. When you made it back over to the group Jamie was already there, you did exactly what he's asked and sat on his lap. He manhandled you into the position he wanted, and once he'd stoped you placed the coverup over your legs.

"You cold?" Tyler asked.

Jamie took that moment to enter you, causing you to choke a little as you attempted to answer Tyler, "N-no just a little over exposed from the sun is all."

Jamie chuckled lowly, as you fought the urge to elbow him. He started easily conversing with his teammates, and you just quivered around him. You tried just leaning back into Jamie's body, but being enveloped in the smell of chlorine, beer, and campfire along with the musk that was just Jamie was too intense with his buried deep inside of you. You could feel the wetness dripping as you sat there and squirmed, trying to find a way to get comfortable in the situation.

Jamie leaned into your ear creating what looked like a sweet moment, though his words were anything but sweet, "Do you you think they know you're sitting here quivering on my cock? That your quivering and clenching around me like a desperate, needy whore?"

You almost whined, as Jamie pulled from you. A seamless movement that looked like a basic adjustment, "We're going to head up guys, see you in the morning." Jamie said pulling you up, and along with him. Those around you waved, and you noticed a couple gathering their things to follow you.

Jamie pulled you into the room, and as soon as the door closed he was on you. Lips attacking your skin as he peeled your clothes from your body. Possessive nips followed by soft kisses, as he backed you towards the bed. No foreplay needed after you'd spend the last half-hour on his cock, and you'd teased him all day.

As soon as he had you naked he was over you, thrusting up into you. He settled his lips over your jugular, and set to work marking your neck while he pounded into your soaked pussy. He was intense, and his hands alternated between caressing your body and coming back to your his where he would grab rough as he delivered random hard thrusts. It was animalistic and deliciously rough, so all you could do it was wrap your arms around his shoulders and spread your legs.

"Tell me who owns this tight little cunt," Jamie demanded harshly.

"You do," you whimpered, Jamie rewarded you with a harsh thrust.

"Again," he growled.

"God, Jamie please. I'm yours I'm all yours," you cried.

He smirked then as he doubled his efforts, "Then cum with me." You couldn't help but follow then, as Jamie trapped your cries in a searing kiss.

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

The next morning when you got up you appraised yourself in the mirror "Jamie!" You gasped out, causing him to stick his head in the door.

"What's up?" He asked concerned.

"You left a purple hickey on my neck," you admonished.

"Guess you'll just have to wear my shirt instead of that tank top," he grinned.

"Stupid, possessive man," you groaned, causing Jamie to laugh as he tossed you his shirt.

[carllisle]

The Second Mrs Cullano 

As we all know, Esme Platt is not Carlisle Cullano’s first wife, nor is she his second - she is actually his third. But she is the love of his life, the reason for his breathing, and so when he marries for the second time, it’s clear that wives are nothing to soulmates. 

Esme Platt enjoys the wedding of Carlisle Cullano and the Second Mrs Cullano. 

Dedicated to my literal partner in this crime, @notquitetwilight, and to our collective projection onto cringe New Jersey mob show stereotypes. Special shoutout to @stregoni-benefici and @carlislesscarf.

Esme felt a soft kiss on her shoulder and smiled. Sun was pouring through the open windows of her bedroom and there was a soft breeze that lifted her hair. He was still here. He shouldn’t have been. 

“Good morning,” he whispered against her skin. “You smell so good.” 

Esme rolled onto her stomach and curled around her pillow with her smile broadening. “Don’t you have somewhere to be?” 

“You kicking me out?” 

“No. But I’ve got things to do, too, you know?” 

Carlisle lay next to her and stroked her caramel hair, his face close to hers on her pillow. She cracked open an eye and watched him watch her. “Can I stay with you?” he whispered. 

She shook her head. “Not for long. For breakfast, though, if you make it.”

“I don’t wanna leave this bed.” 

“You’re gonna have to at some point, baby. You’ve got responsibilities today.” 

“Tell me to stay, Esme. Tell me not to do it.” He ran a strong hand over her neck and gently wrapped it around her throat, fingers tilting her jaw to the side. 

She laughed quietly, sleep making her mind hazy. “No. I want you to have a wife and a family. You’ve always wanted that, but I haven’t. I still want to be me for a while yet.” 

“You wouldn’t stop being you just for being my wife.” 

Esme took the hand around her throat and brought it up to kiss. Carlisle closed her eyes at the touch of her lips. “We’ve talked about this, for years. Decades. I can be your person, but I can’t be your wife. I won’t be anyone’s wife again.” 

“I’m not anyone. Please, Esme. Marry me.” 

She stretched her arms up and laughed. “Not today!” But she rolled over and wrapped her legs around him and pulled him against her, loving him as best she could in the soft sunrise. 

After, they followed their usual routine of showering together and dressing. Since their days of teenage love they enjoyed the quiet of domesticity. Outside the walls of their homes wars raged on their streets but in her old house, in his sprawling estates, it was just them, and today was no different. He zipped her skirt and she buttoned his shirt and they walked arm in arm down the street for coffee and bagels. They took a booth at the back of the cafe, although it didn’t matter if anyone saw them - they had never been a secret. Besides, they both kept guns strapped to them and knives hidden in their jackets and coats. 

Esme leaned back in her chair, blowing steam off the top of her coffee. “You’re sure about this one?” 

Carlisle regarded her over his phone and considered the question. “Yeah. It’s gotta be someone, why not her?” 

“It doesn’t have to be someone,” she reminded him gently. “You could go it alone. Well, as alone as you will ever be. You’ve always got me.” 

“Yeah. But I want someone. I want a wife. And the wife I want doesn’t want me, so I gotta choose the next best thing. Besides, you know her family’s reputation, that’s nothing to turn my nose up at.” 

“Ever the pragmatist.” 

He gave her one of the smiles he saved just for her. “Aw, you hurt me, Es. I do like her. She’s got spirit, and she’s smart as hell. She likes the high life and she wants kids sooner rather than later, and… and she makes me laugh. She makes me feel wanted.” 

“I think most of the east coast wants you,” Esme said quietly, avoiding his gaze. It wasn’t that she was jealous - how could she be, when he made her feel so adored all the time? - but it irritated her that this woman was able to give him what he wanted, and she couldn’t. One marriage to the wrong man had ruined the institution for her and now not even Carlisle could heal that wound. Yes, her first husband had died violently at her hand for his transgression, but that wasn’t the point. The transgression had occured in the first place. That was frightening. 

“Don’t be angry, darling. You know it’s still you.” Carlisle reached over the table and stroked her hand and Esme felt safe again. She held his gaze and nodded slightly. “It’ll always be you. You’re mine, before anyone and everyone else.” 

She smiled, her mood improved. He had always been happy to declare his feelings with her, and even now, on the morning of his wedding to another woman, in a nondescript coffee shop, he made her feel like the most adored woman. On the middle finger of her right hand she still wore the first expensive ring he had ever bought her, and it cost as much as her parents’ house. It was a gaudy thing, a thick diamond set on a band of smaller cut gems that they had chosen together the day after she killed Charles. It was Carlisle’s promise to her - that no matter who else came along, no matter what the world threw at them, they would love each other before anyone and anything else. He wore a similar ring she bought him on his little finger of his right hand. They never took their rings off. His first wife had hated it - understandably - but she had got her share in the divorce when Carlisle had refused to forsake Esme. She looked down at the ring and it sparkled. She’d had it cleaned for the wedding today especially. 

“Are you sure me coming today is a good idea?” she asked after a long moment. 

He squeezed the hand he held. “Yeah. I need you there.”

“She’ll be mad.” 

“She’s always got something to be mad about. Besides, she knows the deal and you’re non-negotiable.”

“I don’t want to upset anyone on their wedding day, Carlisle.” 

He shifted his chair around the table and leaned closer to her. “What about me? You wanna upset me on my wedding day?” 

She bit her lip and grinned. “I never want to upset you.”

“Then be a good girl. Come for me.” He rested his hand on her thigh under the table and Esme glanced around the cafe. No one paid them any mind. “Look at me.”

She met her lover’s piercing gaze and bit her lip. 

“You gonna come for me?” 

She nodded and gasped quietly when he rewarded her with a kiss. Esme could taste the coffee on Carlisle’s lips. He wanted her, he needed her, and she would never let him down. 

Esme’s cousin begrudgingly helped her get ready for the wedding. She said it was indecent for the mistress to turn up, let alone in a red silk dress barely held together by strands of diamonds across the back, but Esme smugly told her the groom had bought it for her especially, and who was she to refuse him? As a precaution she strapped her Colt Python to her thigh - it was an old machine, temperamental, but it made her feel powerful and she had a more reliable weapon in her clutch, as well as blades hidden in her shoes - and touched up her hair. Curls pinned to her head, diamonds dripping from her ears, and Carlisle’s dress draped across her, Esme felt more sensual than ever. When she sat in the pew at the wedding mass and thought of how the groom had sighed between her thighs mere hours before, she felt holy. She sat with his cousins a few rows back and even when the blushing bride strutted down the aisle, he couldn’t keep his eyes from Esme for long. 

They were lucky to be able to have a Roman Catholic service as everyone knew that Carlisle’s first marriage had been valid, but enough money had been slipped to the dioceses to push through an annulment, and so in the eyes of the Church this was his first marriage. There was some humour in that. The familiar words were spoken, hymns and prayers recited, and after what felt like a lifetime, and no time at all, Carlisle was walking down the aisle with the new Mrs Cullano on his arm. Sadness twinged at Esme’s stomach. That could have been me. It should have been. He’s mine. 

The reception was tolerable, enjoyable in its tackiness and extravagance. Everything was white and puffy and the hundreds of guests stuffed into the grand ballroom of the coastal hotel were drunk within the first course. It was how a Jersey wedding should have been, though, and Esme appreciated it for what it was. By the time the first dance came, she was lightly buzzed and enjoying catching up with the biggest names in east coast crime, many of whom were old family friends. Business people and politicians, state senators and property moguls joined them too, tying together the legitimate and illegitimate powers that kept the region affluent and fun, and most didn’t know where the legality ended and illegality started. By the time Esme snorted a line of cocaine from the chest of a mayor’s daughter she didn’t much care and the pair fell about laughing in the bathroom. As if called by the sound of Esme’s happiness, the moment was cut short by the sound of the bride herself outside. 

“Lisa, can you fucking help me? This dress is a fucking nightmare, you gotta hold it up, okay?” 

“You better go,” Esme advised the girl, no older than twenty-two by the looks of it, “before you meet Bridezilla up close and personal.” 

The girl giggled and darted from the bathroom just as the bride scrambled her way through the door. The dress she had chosen was appropriately enormous, tight on top and blooming into an extravagant ball gown from the waist down, and Esme wasn’t surprised that she needed three bridesmaids to help her through the door. 

“God, I’m dying to sit down properly-” she moaned over her shoulder before her eyes fell on Esme. Esme patted around her nose, watching her own pretty reflection in the mirror. “Oh. I didn’t know you were here.” 

“I responded to your invitation,” Esme replied mildly. “Lovely dress.” She turned her attention to her lipstick and dotted a fresh coat on, pointedly ignoring the bride. 

The second Mrs Cullano turned back to her bridesmaids and then looked at Esme, dithering between the two. There was a long pause before she turned to her entourage. “Stay outside. Make sure no one comes in, alright?” The bridesmaids made noises of agreement and the door swung shut, and then it was just Esme and Carlisle’s new wife. 

After Mrs Cullano said nothing, Esme broke the silence. “You’ve organised a wonderful day. Are you enjoying yourself?”

Mrs Cullano’s eyes narrowed. “I’m not happy you’re here.” 

“Oh?” 

“I know why you’re here.” 

“To see one of my dearest friends marry the woman he loves, of course.”

“Don’t play cute.” 

Esme smiled sweetly. “You think I’m cute?” 

“Cut the shit.” 

She sighed and looked at the bride. “What’s on your mind, Mrs Cullano?” 

“It’s real tacky you’re here, you know?”

“He wants me here. I came because he asked me to be here. I wouldn’t be here without an invitation.” 

“I didn’t invite you.” 

Esme pulled her invitation from her clutch and handed it to her. “Yes, you did.” 

The bride threw it aside, angry. “Give up! I won! He doesn’t want you!” 

Esme smiled at her sadly. There was nothing to say that could bring the bride any comfort. The truth was, Carlisle did want her. He wanted her more than anyone and anything, but that didn’t matter to this woman. This woman knew she had just pledged her life to a man who couldn’t love her completely. She was angry for it. “He’s my friend,” was all she could say. 

“Get new friends.” 

“I won’t stand in the way of your happiness, Mrs Cullano, or his. Above anything else, I love him and I want him to have the most wonderful life. I can’t give him the life he wants, but you can. Why would I jeopardize that?” 

It was the wrong thing to say in hindsight. Esme knew that the moment the bride launched at her with murder in her eyes. Her clawing fingers reached out and she managed to get in one good scratch before Esme had her arms locked behind her and ready to pop from their joints. “Easy,” she whispered against Mrs Cullano’s ear. The acrylics on her fingers made her face sting, but the skin hadn’t been broken. “Calm down. Like you said, you won, you’re his wife. Don’t fight me for anything more, because you will lose, do you understand me?” 

“Are you threatening me?” Mrs Cullano gasped. 

Esme tightened her grip and the bride hissed. “Yes. Raise a hand to me again and Carlisle’s love for you will not save you. You want to see who he will really choose if it comes down to it? Because I do not have my doubts. Do you?” 

Just as the bride’s whines rose in volume along with her pain, Esme let her go. She gripped under her elbow and held her upright to stop her from falling. “You got in a good scratch, I’ll give you that. But work on your attack and maybe you’ll take out an eye next time, alright? You’ll need protection if you’re going to love him.” 

“Are you threatening me?” Mrs Cullano asked again. 

There was no kindness left in Esme’s eyes. “Yes.” 

The two women stared at each other for a long moment. The new bride broke first. Esme sniffed and checked her reflection before stalking out of the bathroom, not a hair out of place. She pulled on the diamond strap of her dress and was close to the ballroom door when Carlisle stepped out. His smile was so bright when he saw her and he reached for her hands. When he noticed the scratches across her face his forehead creased. 

“What happened?” he asked, tender fingers touching the marks. Across the corridor there was a set of glass doors open to the terrace, and it was dark out there. There were a few wedding guests milling around but quick steps had the pair hidden in the gloom. Overhead, stars popped across the inky sky. With her arm in Carlisle’s, they found their way down garden paths and to the beach. No one saw them. 

“Your wife doesn’t like me,” Esme told him, smiling. His face was barely visible in the darkness but his bright hair caught the light of the stars. Their walk eventually slowed as their shoes crunched on the sand. 

“She did this?” 

Esme nodded. “It’s alright, she deserved to get in a good swipe. It won’t happen again, though.” 

“No, it won’t,” Carlisle replied angrily. “Who does she think she is?” 

“The new Mrs Cullano, protecting the honour of her marriage,” Esme pointed out with a light laugh. “I’d do the same. I don’t mind, really. I understand her anger.” 

“Esme,” he said, his voice softening. “How can I love someone who hurt you?” 

“You’re the only one who can hurt me, Carlisle.” She wound an arm around the back of his shoulders and closed her eyes when he rested his forehead against hers. 

“I’ll never hurt you.” 

“I know.” And he never had. Not with a hand, not with a word. No one had ever loved anyone like Carlisle loved Esme, and she knew it. “You’re so good to me. What did I do to deserve you?” 

Carlisle rested one hand at the small of her back and ran the fingers of his other hand up her spine. “Thank you for wearing this dress. You look beautiful.” 

She smiled in the night. “Thank you for choosing it for me.” 

“Gotta let the whole world see how wonderful my girl is.” 

“Call me that again.” 

“My girl?” 

She hummed and began gently swaying, moving him to dance with her to the sound of the ocean. “You’re my person, you know?” 

“Yeah, I know. And you’re my person. Always have been. Always will be.” 

Carlisle’s soft kiss touched Esme’s cheek and she sighed in bliss. “I love you, Carlisle.”

“I love you, too, Esme. More than anything. Always.”

[salvejoon]

Life is Beautifully Ugly (At Times) - pjm | 01

⇒ Warnings for this chapter: Death of minor characters, mentions of a car accident, losing a loved one, a child being orphaned, cursing, Jimin being an ass, reader being a bitch.

⇒ A/N: Hey lovelies! I’m back-ish! I’ve been working on this project for months now and I’ve finally found my muse again and so I got to writing more and more chapters for this. Please enjoy the first chapter of hopefully my first series (but not my last). xoxo

“Imo!” Your head shot up at the happy squeal and you bent down to one knee, opening your arms, almost toppling over at the force your niece ran into you.

“Oof!” Your arms closed around her and she buried her nose in your hair as her arms went around your neck, “Hello my pretty little flower.” You drew back and nuzzled her nose with yours to which she frowned. 

“I’ve grown 1 inch so I’m not little anymore.” 

“You’ll always be my pretty little flower, Hyejin. No matter how tall you get.” You picked her up as you stood, groaning briefly as you adjusted her on your hip, “But you are getting a little bit heavy.”

Hyejin giggled, “Appa also says I’m getting heavy. Says his back hurts.” 

“That’s because your Appa is getting old.” 

A hum came from the doorway and you saw Han, your brother-in-law, standing there, looking dapper in a black and white tux, his natural black hair swept back from his face, “You’re the one to talk, Y/N. You’re closer to 30 than I am.” 

You rolled your eyes, “No need to remind me, Han.” You said just as your younger sister, Charlotte gently pushed Han out of the doorframe, looking a little bit frantic, “Missing something?” You asked her as she walked over to the vanity, opening several drawers.

“My watch.”

“The one laying right in front of you?” 

Charlotte sighed heavily as her eyes landed upon her watch, “Thanks.” 

“What would you do without me?” You smirked as she walked over to you and took Hyejin from your arms and her daughter protested with a small whine.

“Can’t I go with you, Eomma?” She asked and glanced longingly at you and her father, “I also want to go to the ball and look pretty.” 

Charlotte chuckled and kissed her forehead, “Another time, baby. This is for grown-ups only.” 

“Why is it always only for adults? I want to go too!” She protested loudly, crossing her arms and pouted.

You ruffled her hair, “How about you and I play dress-up tomorrow, hm? How does that sound? I’ve bought new shoes you can try.” You winked at her and Hyejin’s pout slowly vanished. 

“Can I put make-up on you, Imo?” 

“Sure.” 

Charlotte put her down and bent down just as the doorbell rang, gently wiping her daughter’s hair back from her face, “You be good to Mrs. Shin, okay? We’ll be back before you know it.”

“Yes, Eomma.” 

You absentmindedly stared out the window as the limousine drove through one of the high-end districts of Seoul. Closed off ground containing High-Rise buildings towered the streets and in between, they were grand mansions. 

You felt out of place here, in this part of town.

You preferred Han and Charlotte’s apartment in the more affordable part of Seoul. 

“Y/N.”

You hummed at the sound of your sister’s voice.

“Promise me you’ll be nice.” 

You shifted your gaze to her and raised a brow, “When am I not nice?” You asked and shook your head when Charlotte sent you a knowing look, “Oh please. Just because he’s going to be there doesn’t mean I won’t be nice.”

Han snorted, “The last time you saw each other, it ended up in the tabloids.” 

You glared at him and tch’ed, “Your brother called me - me - a prude, and I simply wanted him to teach him some manners.”

“You don’t teach someone manners by threatening them, Y/N.” Came the rational voice of Charlotte. 

This time you snorted and rolled your eyes, “Wow, you two really take his side.” 

“We are not but you two should bury that hatchet, whatever it is. He is actually nice once you get to know him.” 

“He’s a conceited asshole that needs to be beaten down a peg or ten. There is nothing nice about him.”

“Y/N…”

“Yeah, yeah.”

There was once a time where you would have taken in the beautiful surroundings of the ballroom with all it’s marble and gold, tall doors, and crystal chandeliers and would have felt like a princess. 

But this wasn’t your first rodeo at a gathering such as this nor would it be your last. 

You hated them now. Well, not hated but found them so superficial because all it was was rich people prancing around with their noses in the air while they had a pissing contest of who had the most money, the fastest car, the grandest of mansions, or the youngest wife.

“Smile.” Charlotte noted as she sat down next to you, followed by Han who had finally managed to break free of one of the old ladies' claws, no doubt talking about finances.

You plastered on a fake smile but said smile quickly vanished when you spotted a familiar face approaching the table. 

You tried to hide your scowl as the man came up to the table, dressed in a burgundy-colored suit that cost more than what you earned in a year, his ears adorned with silver dangling earrings with matching diamond rings on his fingers. The last time you had seen him, he’d donned blonde hair but now it was gray and it was swept back neatly, showing off his face. 

And he had a new chick on his arm.

No surprise there.

Park Jimin was one of the biggest fuckboys you knew, if not the biggest. 

He dragged his eyes from his date to you and a knowing smirk spread on his lips when he saw your scowl. No doubt he was already planning various ways to piss you off. 

“Jimin. Nice of you to show up…” Charlotte glanced at her wristwatch, “20 minutes later than we agreed upon but it’s better than an hour like last time.” 

Jimin removed his eyes from you and looked at your sister with an innocent smile, “I apologize, Charlotte. Things dragged out at the board meeting.” The woman on his arm tugged at it, “And may I introduce Jisoo. My date.” 

Han bowed his head and your sister smiled sweetly at her and you… Well, you ignored them. 

That was until Charlotte jabbed you in the ribs, “Ow! Hi, whatever.” You grumbled, glaring at her before meeting Jisoo’s smiling face and forced your lips upwards. 

“As formal as ever, Y/N.” Jimin drawled before sitting down across from you, his smirk back on his lips, “Where is your date?” 

“I came alone.” You answered stiffly. 

He scoffed and leaned back in his chair, “As usual.” 

Arrogant asshole. 

“At least I’m not fucking my way through the female population of Seoul.” 

Jisoo opened her mouth to object but a tap on the mic shut all of you up and you just aimed a glare at him. He met you with one of his own. The tension rose at the table and you heard your brother-in-law sigh softly. 

“It’s going to be a long evening.” You heard him murmur. 

The hours dragged on and so far you’d listened to four long speeches, three performances by some musicians you had never heard of, and had Charlotte remind you of your promise ten times.

You found yourself sitting alone at the table, date-less while your sister was out dancing with Han and Jimin had vanished. 

Probably aiming the money-shot between his date’s breasts.

The image of that left a bad taste in your mouth, so you focused on the dancing people on the floor.

You could easily find a willing dance partner. There were loads of young bachelors at such an event like this but they were so boring to you. You didn’t care about numbers, board meetings, or future merges. Charlotte had given up trying to set you up long ago since you scared most of them away. 

You deemed your independence a part of your charm. Charlotte didn’t agree. 

The ironic part was that the only man here, that could keep up with you, was an arrogant dickwad with a stick so far up his ass, he could pick his teeth with it. 

And he was probably fucking his date at the toilet. There you go again with those thoughts. 

“Ugh.” You shuddered and willed the images away as you picked up your wine glass and took a sip. The best thing about these events was the free booze. 

Too bad you weren’t allowed to get hammered because the last time you got shitfaced, you had dragged Jimin by his collar, trying to get him outside so you could ‘rearrange that stick’. The tabloids had a field day with that instance. It hadn’t been the first time you had threatened to kick his ass and you doubted it would be the last. 

Jimin just knew how to push the right buttons. 

“No one has asked you for a dance yet?” 

Your left eye twitched in annoyance, “No. Not yet. Are you offering?” You asked as you looked at Jimin with a raised brow. 

“No. I prefer my dance partners to be more… graceful. I don’t like getting stepped on.” 

“But I can be graceful, Jimin.” 

“Oh? When?” He asked as he sat down in the chair and crossed his legs. 

“When I step on your throat, choking the life out of you.” 

“Kinky, Y/N. I didn’t know you had it in you.” 

You scoffed and leaned back in your chair, “Where’s your date? Recovering from having your filthy hands on her body?”

“And if she is?” 

“Then tell her I know a therapist.” 

Jimin threw you a glare, one you returned with an unimpressed, bored look, “She’s in the restroom.” 

“Trying to wash away her sins, no doubt.”

“Are you jealous, Y/N? You seem oddly fixated on my sexual interactions.” 

You picked up your wine glass and shrugged, “For me to be jealous, Jimin, it would require I had some sort of feelings for you, which I do not other than absolute disgust.” You downed the rest of the wine that was in the glass, deciding you were done entertaining him, “And I’d undoubtedly get more satisfaction by watching old men dance with their young wives than having sex with you.” With that you rose from the table. You flicked a strand of hair over your shoulder as you put your bag on the table, “Now be a good boy and look after my belongings.” 

“Where are you going?” He asked stiffly. 

“To dance, of course. Might step on a toe or two but what the hell.” 

Your escape from the table hadn’t gone as smoothly as you had hoped because Charlotte and Han were nowhere to be found, the men that had approached you were either 60 and above and the bartender hadn’t seemed particularly keen on entertaining you with small talk. So you opted to venture outside instead. 

The air was chilly and you shivered a little, rubbing your arms to regain some heat as you looked up. The sky was clear and the stars twinkled while the moon showered the ground in it’s white glow. It was a pretty evening, really. You had the sudden urge to just lay down on the grass and stargaze. 

You felt something heavy being draped over your shoulders and you turned around to see a pair of dimples and a bright smile. 

You knew those dimples.

And that smile.

Those kind, warm, honeyed eyes. 

Your heart sped up. 

Before you could open your mouth to greet him, Namjoon booped your nose, “Thought I saw you dash outside. Are you avoiding me?” 

You shoved his shoulder, albeit gently with a smile on your lips, “Duh. Of course, I am avoiding you.” 

He frowned, “The sex can’t have been that bad.” He pouted.

You rolled your eyes, “It was terrible. Absolutely terrible.” 

“You really know how to hurt a man's pride, Y/N.” He chuckled and enveloped you in a tight hug, “I’ve missed you.” 

“I’ve missed you too, Joonie. I haven’t seen you in, what, 3 months?” You drew back, “I didn’t know you were attending the fundraiser.”

Namjoon kept his arms around your waist as he sheepishly smiled down at you, “I wasn’t planning on attending since I am so busy lately but when Han told me you’d be here, I had to come.” 

“Aw, my little Joonie bug.” 

He let go of you and you stepped back, “So how is the partnership coming along?” You asked, standing next to him, “Charlotte told me you’ve been super duper uber busy.” 

He sighed, “I have been so fucking busy and work has just been taking up all of my time and I am so tired of it.”

“Oh, Joonie.”

“But I can now call myself partner and a board member of Kim & Co Lawyers.” 

You squealed, your arms finding purchase around his neck as you jumped up and down of excitement, “OH MY GOD! CONGRATULATIONS!” 

Big hand engulfed your face and squished, “Thank you but calm down, sprout. No reason to entertain the whole neighborhood.”

“Buf u gos te parfership.”

“Yes.”

“lso yo ar ruinf te makuf.”

“I am fully aware of that, sprout.” 

“Le gof.”

He chuckled and let go of your face, placing his hands on your shoulders instead, “Thank you. But how are you? Charlotte told me you’d be expanding the brand soon.”

You grinned and nodded, “Yes! I am so excited but at the same time also a little sad. That shop has been my bread and butter for 4 years now but it was about time I listened to my sister and expanded… With the help of some investors, of course.” 

“Well, I am looking forward to seeing you take over the world, Y/N.” 

You snorted and grabbed his hand, “Pfft, I think I’ll just deal with getting my designs on the interwebz first and see how that goes. Now let’s go get some wine and talk shit about other people.” 

“There you are!” You and Namjoon halted your conversation as Charlotte appeared between you, “We’ve been looking for you.”

You smiled sheepishly, “Sorry, sis.”

She glared but there was a teasing glint in her eyes, “Joonie has a habit of stealing your time.” 

“I’m like the most important man in her life, what did you expect?” Namjoon rolled his eyes as Charlotte bumped his shoulder, “Not in the way you want, woman.” 

Your sister huffed and shook her head, “What do I have to pay you to marry Y/N? Seriously, you’re like the only guy that can keep up with her shit and not want to run away.”

“Who says I don’t want to run away?” 

You slapped his arm that was draped over the bar counter, “Fuck you. You love me.” 

“I do but not enough to get my dick wet.” 

“That monster you call a dick wouldn’t fit anyway.” 

“Thank you, I guess, for calling it a monster, Y/N, but I would have made it fit. Preparation is key.” 

“That’s what I keep saying. Foreplay is an important part of-”

“Alright, I clearly interrupted something here so I would just like to give you the heads up and Han and I are going home.” Charlotte interrupted you and leaned in to kiss you on the cheek, “He’s drunk and I was getting tired anyway.” 

“Sure. I’ll see you back home.” You said, wiping at your cheek before turning it towards Namjoon, “Do I have a stain?”

He shook his head before accepting a peck on his cheek from Charlotte, “Nope. Looking smooth as always.” 

“You make sure she gets home safely, Joonie.”

“You have nothing to worry about.”

“And not too late, okay?”

“Bye Charlotte! Love you!” You called as she wandered off, dragging a swaying Han with her towards the entrance.

Jimin sat at the table, Jisoo at his side. He had tuned most of her blabbering out, finding the topic ‘what shoes to wear to her friend’s wedding’ quite boring. Instead, his eyes were trained on the dance floor where not many people were dancing. 

More specifically you and Namjoon that was talking more than dancing and he saw you smile, laughing at how your dance partner seemed to trip over his own feet. 

He scoffed. 

“Are you listening to what I’m saying, baby?”

“Of course, Jisoo. The red pair of shoes sounds good.” 

His phone vibrated in his pocket and he fished it out, eyes narrowing at the number, he swiped his thumb across the screen.

“Yes?” He said. 

“Jimin, hey, it’s Seokjin.” 

“I could see on the caller-id.”

There was a brief pause and Jimin held up a hand to silence Jisoo when she yanked at his arm. Then there was a beeping sound and the sound of doors being banged open, “Jin, what’s going on?”

“Sorry about that… I don’t know how to say this but you need to come to the hospital.”

“Why?” 

“It’s your brother. Jimin, you need to come and quick.” 

His throat felt as dry as sandpaper as he stood up and hung up, eyes darting to your dancing and laughing form on the dancefloor. 

“Jimin, baby, where are you going?” Jisoo asked him as he took a step, her hands clinging onto his wrist. 

“S-Sorry, I have somewhere I need to be.” He answered, his voice shaky, “I’ll arrange for someone to take you home.” 

“Wait!” She called out as he ran towards you.

You were laughing so hard at how Namjoon had just tripped over his own two feet again when Jimin appeared, seemingly out of nowhere, grabbing your wrist, “What the fuck?” 

“Fun time is over.” Jimin said and tugged you with him as he headed towards the exit.

You yanked your wrist free, Namjoon appearing at your side, “Um no, it isn’t. What’s with you?” You asked him. 

Jimin looked at you and Namjoon, “Y/N.” You raised a brow at the tone of his voice… He sounded scared, “We have to go now.” 

“Did something happen?” You immediately grew worried because Jimin never sounded scared. 

“Seokjin just called me and… Something happened with Han and Charlotte.” 

You had never felt such fear. 

The ride to the hospital was tense and quiet. Jimin drove like a maniac through the streets of Seoul while Namjoon had tagged along as support. The two men sat in the front of the car, exchanging no words whatsoever, leaving you to your thoughts running rampant. 

Then you arrived at the hospital and everything happened so quickly.

A drunk driver collided with their limousine.

Their driver was killed on impact. 

Charlotte and Han were in critical condition.

You had no idea how much time had passed from when you had arrived to when you were sitting on the chair outside the ward, Jimin prancing back and forth like a caged animal.

Then the doctor appeared from the ward and Namjoon was quick to leave your side, going to talk to him.

You stood up, watching as they talked and you felt Jimin’s presence next to you.

Time seemed to slow down when your eyes locked with Namjoon’s, the sadness in his eyes conveying the message you had yet to receive but you knew. 

They were gone. 

You could feel someone wrap their arms around you as you tumbled to the floor, your own piercing wail deaf to your ears as you felt your chest implode on itself with heartbreak. 

Jimin struggled to keep you upright as you collapsed, your cries so very loud in his ears but it didn’t matter. He felt like he couldn’t breathe. He didn’t need to hear why you had broken down. It was clear as day by the way Namjoon looked. 

His brother was gone. Your sister was gone. Both of them were gone. 

You cried out her name and Jimin tightened his hold on you when you tried to crawl away from him. 

He might not like you and you may not like him but he knew that you should not go through this pain alone. So when you clutched his shirt so tightly in your balled fists, your cries finally lowering to whimpering and you buried your head in his chest, Jimin held you tight.

The feeling of time was lost on you when you entered Han and Charlotte’s apartment. Your mind was empty and you were pretty sure your heart had stopped beating. 

Mrs. Shin appeared as you took off your shoes and placed your purse on a small table. She looked puzzled upon seeing you, and only you, return. 

“Where is…” She trailed off as you grabbed her hand. 

“They’re gone.” Was all you said and her shoulders sagged as she moved her free hand to cover her mouth, “Is she sleeping?”

“She is.” 

You nodded and walked past her, down the hall, towards Hyejin’s room. The door was slightly ajar and you slowly opened it, finding her room dark except for a small lamp in the corner. 

She hated the dark.

Like Charlotte. 

You felt tears stream down your cheeks at the thought of your sister but willed them away. You had to be strong now for Hyejin. 

Nothing else mattered.

Hyejin woke up when her mattress shifted and she turned her head, rubbing one eye, “Eomma?” 

“No, honey. It’s me.” 

She sat up, looking puzzled, “Where’s Eomma? She always comes to kiss me goodnight.” 

You opened your arms and closed them around her tiny frame, “I know.” You placed your head upon hers and took a deep breath, “Listen, sweetie…”

[janeyseymour]

The Puzzle Of Life

Life is a puzzle. And Jane Seymour is more than confused as to where her puzzle piece fits. As she finds, it fits somewhere, just perhaps maybe not where she thought it would. Life works in mysterious ways.

WC: 3273

Jane Seymour was more than confused as to where she fit into this crazy puzzle that she found herself in. Growing up was hard for the young lass- having been one of the younger siblings in a family of twelve and as shy and quiet as she was, it was quite difficult for her to fit in with her family. Even when she was put in front of Henry, the blonde knew that it was not where she fit into the puzzle of life. As queen, she did her best to appear queenly and fit into this picture perfect family that He wished to show to the public. Ultimately though, she knew she would never fit into the puzzle piece. If he had thrown away Catherine of Aragon’s puzzle piece that seemingly fit for twenty four years as well as Anne Boleyn’s piece after three years, he would surely throw hers away. She never gave him the chance, for she had gone and died- throwing away her own puzzle piece to his puzzle of life in the process.

Five-hundred and some years later, Jane Seymour- the former third wife of Henry VIII- was reincarnated. Five-hundred and some years later, the meek and mild woman found herself in a house with the five other wives of her beloved. Five-hundred and some years later, she was back to trying to make her puzzle piece fit into the craziness of the world- a world that was much different than the one she was used to. It was hard to do- the women in the house had already found their places and their spaces, and Jane was left to try to figure out where she fell into the puzzle. Catherine and Cathy had paired off, Anne and Kat paired off with Anna joining them and creating “the chaotic 3” as they loved to call themselves. Where was Jane to fit? Everyone else had found where their puzzle piece had fit, and the blonde was convinced she would never find where her piece fit. Why would she?

The woman secluded herself for some time after they had been brought back into this new century. Knowing she had a temper, she stayed away from the women who had someone forged a family without her, for she didn’t want to startle them and break any good that the five others had forged. Once, she lashed out and startled the entire house. Katherine Howard would not come near her for weeks apart from in the show when they had to interact. Even then, the third queen noticed the way the fifth would seemingly be relaxed with Catherine and Anne before getting to Jane. Once she stood before the third queen, something shifted in her, and she was stiff as a board and her roast fell flat amongst the audience.

Slowly, the woman began to get control over her temper- participating in meditation practices and the power of time together helped mend together the “broken” woman. She began to infiltrate herself into the family that they had created, but the feelings of being an outsider had only dissipated slightly.

Jane Seymour had found herself growing close with Katherine Howard, forming a bond that was about as close to a mother-daughter bond as she would find.

--

“Katherine, we have to leave for the show in about seven minutes. Please be outside in five,” Jane knocked on the door lightly, not wanting to startle the young queen who had only just begun to relax (as much as the fifth queen could) around her.

“Did Anne not tell you?” the pink queen opened the door to reveal herself still in pajamas, her nose and cheeks a dusty pink. “I’m not feeling well, so I’m staying home tonight. Have a good show though Jane.” The woman offered a meek smile before breaking into a fit of coughs that rattled her lungs. Unexpectedly, the teen pushed past the blonde at the door and made a dash for the bathroom. She threw herself at the toilet, only barely getting there before heaving into the bowl.

“Cathy?” Jane called for the woman who intimidated her the least. When she heard the blue queen pop out of her bedroom, she continued, “I’m calling out today. Someone’s got to take care of Katherine.” The blonde shocked herself at how much maternal energy was radiating from her at that moment, especially given that Katherine was throwing up- one of her biggest fears and triggers. Then and there though, it didn’t matter.

The third queen took a deep breath before following the fifth queen into the bathroom and kneeling down beside her.

“Let it all out darling, you’re okay,’ she offered sweet nothings as she tied the girls hair back.

“Y-you don’t have to-” the sick queen began heaving again. “S-stay. I’ll be okay.”

The third queen only continued gently rubbing the girl’s back before replying gently, “It’s okay love. Let someone take care of you for once.”

The other four queens would come home that night to see Katherine curled into Jane sleeping peacefully.

“Thank you for taking care of her,” Anne expressed her gratitude begrudgingly.

“Of course. It wasn’t a problem.” The silver monarch allowed herself to feel the warmth coming from the teen curled into her side. She could get used to taking care of someone like this.

And indeed she did. Jane found that her puzzle piece fit with Katherine’s. From that moment on, Katherine followed Jane around like a duckling, much to the annoyance of the second queen.

By extension, this meant that Jane Seymour would have to bury the hatchet with Anne Boleyn. Anne Boleyn, her predecessor and a woman who still occasionally shot glares at the woman for getting close with her cousin. The two would work it out in the end.

“Anne, can we please talk?” Jane knocked on the green door, tired of walking on eggshells around the green queen and ready to put any hard feelings to rest.

“What is there to talk about Seymour?” The second queen opened the door and leaned against the frame.

“May I come in?”

Anne thought for a second before standing to the side and allowing the silver queen to enter her room. Jane wasn't quite sure what to do with herself, so she stepped in a few paces before stopping and standing awkwardly.

“Stop doing that,” Anne commanded as she pushed past the other queen and flopped onto her bed ungracefully.

“I beg your pardon?” the silver queen replied, although there was no malice in her voice. She had come to talk to her predecessor in a civil manner, and was determined not to lose her temper no matter how the second queen acted towards her.

“Stop being so awkward,” the green queen demanded from her successor. “Stop walking on eggshells around me, and take a seat.” Anne watched in amusement as the third queen quickly scanned the room for a place to sit before settling herself on the ground in a ball.

“Sorry,” Jane dropped her eyes to the floor. The second queen watched her carefully for a few beats before realizing the third queen was not about to continue talking.

“Well, you came to me. What was it you wanted to talk about?” The woman began to take out her space buns.

“Oh,” The woman on the floor looked up bashfully. “That’s right. I just-” she paused to mull over how she wanted to word what she was about to say. “I think we need to bury the hatchet. For us, for Katherine, for the house. So, I’ve been trying to figure out how to tell you this: I’m sorry for what happened in our past lives. To begin with, I never wanted to marry him in the first place. I was twenty-eight, and at that point quite old to have never been married before. I didn’t mind not having a man, but you know how it was back then. My father and brother pushed me towards him, trying to move up classes. And, I never in a million years thought that Henry courting me would end with you being- you know. If I had even thought that idea would cross his mind, I never would have been with him in the first place. I wholeheartedly thought he would divorce you like he did Catherine, but-”

“Catalina,” Anne interrupted.

“I don’t think I’ve quite made it to the point where she would want me to call her Catalina. Maybe back then, but certainly not now, but that’s besides the point,” Jane rushed out. Boleyn opened her mouth to rebut, but Jane continued on.

“I thought he would divorce you. When I found out he was going to execute you,” Jane paused to take a deep breath. “I tried so hard to stop him. I knew we had bad blood then, but I knew you were innocent. I did everything I could to try to convince him otherwise, but he wouldn’t hear it. The last time I tried, he threatened to take my head off too for treason.”

“Jane, I forgave you a long time ago for that whole...” The queen in green searched for the appropriate word as she crossed the room and settled next to the blonde. “...situation. I know you never would have done that to me. And please, seriously... know that it wasn’t your fault at all. It was all his fault.”

“Well,” Jane twiddled her thumbs nervously. “But I was the-”

Anne intervened, laying a steady hand over two shaking ones. “If it wasn’t you, it would have been someone else. I guarantee it.”

“Okay then,” the nervous woman sighed as she mustered up the courage to ask her next question. “If you’ve forgiven me, why are you still harsh towards me?”

“If I’m being honest Seymour, it’s what’s expected from us, right?”

“It- it doesn’t have to be that way. I’d like to make amends,” Jane whispered quietly.

“Well, that isn’t all,” the second monarch admitted. When the blonde’s head tilted in confusion, she continued, “Kat’s really taken a liking to you. I suppose I’m jealous. It’s silly, I know but-”

“I never meant to take her away from you. I can back off,” Jane was ready to relinquish the first bond that she had made within the household for the time being if it meant her predecessor and her could bury any hard feelings between the two.

“Now, I never said that,” the green queen chided gently. “I know it’s silly. And besides, I know that Kat needs someone who will reign her in when she’s getting a little wild. She needs someone to look after her, and-”

“You look after her just fine Anne,” the silver queen complimented.

“Well thank you, but, as I was saying before you so rudely interrupted me,” Anne giggled, a mischievous glint in her eye. “I look after her the best that I can, but she needs someone who has maternal energy. Let’s face it: I am not one to radiate that sort of energy. I’m like the cool older sister. You, on the other hand, exude mum energy.”

“I-”

“It’s not a bad thing. It’ll take some time for me to get used to Kat not following me around constantly, but you’re good for her.”

“Thank you,” Jane shot her a grateful smile.

“So, for Katherine’s sake, are we good?” Anne held out a hand.

“For Katherine’s sake.” The third queen took the second’s, shaking it before adding, “But for what it’s worth Anne, I do hope we’re good for our sake too.”

“I’m sure we will be Jane. I’m sure we will be.”

Over time, Jane began to extend her olive branches with the fourth and sixth queen as well. It was Anna who was next. There weren't any revolving issues that fell between the two women. Cleves was just an intimidating woman to the demure queen.

“Oi Seymour, you got a second?” the red queen asked as she knocked on the grey door.

Jane opened the door, somewhat surprised to see the fourth queen standing before her before smiling softly (albeit a nervous one), “Of course. You can come in if you’d like.” With the invitation, Anna stepped into the room and looked around.

“Take a seat if you wish,” the blonde gestured to her bed and then the desk chair, giving the woman in front of her options.

Once the two were settled, the red monarch spoke, “So you’ve made good with Howard, and now amends with Boleyn too?” Jane nodded. “That’s good,” she hummed.

“Yes, it’s quite nice,” the third queen agreed.

“So I guess I’m here to ask, are we good?” For the first time since they had been back, the confident Anna of Cleves looked nervous, refusing to make eye contact.

“I’d like to think we are, yes?” Jane was confused. “Why wouldn’t we be?”

“Oh, I’m not sure. You’ve just kept to yourself quite a bit until these last few weeks. I wanted to make sure we were good, you know?” the fourth queen stated, although there was no accusatory tone laced in her voice.- it was genuine.

“Yeah we’re okay. It’s just been hard adjusting to these new times. I know it’s been a while but-”

“Everyone has their own timeline. It’s cool Seymour. Really.”

“Thank you,” Jane sighed with relief. “I needed that.”

“No problem.” Anna stood up from her spot. “So we’re good? No hard feelings over anything?” She stuck her hand out awkwardly; the gesture resembled Anne’s.

“For sure,” Jane grabbed the hand quickly, a smirk appearing on her face.

She was well on her way to finding out where her puzzle piece fit.

Catherine Parr was a mystery to Jane Seymour. But the two had found their common ground- or their difference that would allow them to bond- as well.

“Catherine?” Jane knocked lightly on the blue door at the end of the hallway. The signature poof of hair with a pen stuck in it haphazardly made an appearance.

“Hey Jane, what can I do for you?” It was a surprise to see the third queen outside her door; she never went past the pink room- not an unpleasant surprise, but a surprise nonetheless.

“Uh, I’m- you know what? Nevermind, I can just ask Kat for help. I’m so sorry for interrupting your time.” The silver queen went to close the door, but the writer’s hand caught it quickly.

“It’s not an issue. How can I help you, for real?” Jane studied the woman’s face for a few seconds. There was no sense of impatience or lying to be detected; Catherine Parr was an earnest and honest woman.

Deciding to bite the bullet, the much less educated queen rushed out, “I’m having a bit of trouble with the changes in the script and I was wondering if you could help me, but now I realize it’s foolish to ask the writ-”

“I’d be more than happy to help Jane. I was actually just going over it myself. Would you care to come in?”

The script had been sorted out a long while ago, and the two had fallen into casual conversation.

“So, Anne tells me that you’ve made amends?”

“I have,” Jane smiled a bit proudly. “It’s nice to have... a friend.”

“She said the same.”

“Can I be real with you for a second?” the third queen asked candidly. At the gentle nod of the head from the sixth queen, she continued. “This whole ‘being reincarnated 500 years later’ thing is hard. I know the five of you have this sort of found family idea circulating, but I for the life of me... Well I fear that I’m not sure where my puzzle piece fits.”

“I understand that,” Cathy offered sympathetically. “It’s been really hard on all of us, especially when you consider the way the six of us have been put up against each other for centuries now.”

Jane couldn’t help but agree.

“But I think it’s really nice that we all have each other now. I’ve noticed that you’ve got quite a bond with Kat. And you’re civil with Anne and Anna now.”

“And you, I’d like to think,” the blonde added.

“Yes,” Catherine agreed. “And me.”

“So,” Jane hummed, trying to pick the conversation back up, for there had been a lull in it. “You married my brother?” Jane laughed lightly.

That left one queen left: Catherine of Aragon. Catherine of Aragon, who she had served under. The one who had left the castle and never came back.

A knock on the door wasn’t uncommon for the blonde anymore. The four queens she had made amends with often came to visit her throughout the night.

“Come in!” Jane beckoned. When the door opened, she was faced with the last woman she expected to be there: the golden queen. “Oh, hi Catherine. What can I do for you?” Her tone shifted immediately. There was no malice within her voice, but it certainly wasn’t as warm as it was when she thought it might have been one of the other queens.

“I wanted to have a quick chat Jane, if that’s alright,” the first queen seemed nervous. What for, the third queen couldn’t tell.

“Sure,” the silver queen moved over on her bed and patted the spot next to her.

“You’ve made nice with the other four queens. Why not me Jane? I thought we were okay,” Catherine admitted weakly as she lowered herself onto the bed.

Jane was stunned. The Catherine of Aragon, the elegant and poised queen of England, was sitting before her admitting that she was hurt by the blonde’s actions- or more accurately, lack thereof.

“Catherine, I never meant to upset you,” Jane sighed.

“Then, why haven’t you attempted to reach out to me? I mean, you’ve been good with Boleyn for a month now!” The first queen was clearly upset.

“Lina,” Jane whispered for the first time since they had been in England over 500 years ago. “I-”

“If it’s something that I did back then, I-”

“You couldn’t help what you did, but-” Jane bit her tongue. “But you left. And I’m terrified that if we grow close in this life, you might have to leave again.”

“Oh.” The golden monarch looked into the younger woman’s grey eyes with sadness. “Oh carino.” Catalina pulled the woman into a hug. “I’m not leaving. Ever. Not as long as I can help it.”

“Promise?” The third queen mumbled at her elder in an almost child-like tone.

“I promise you love. I’m not leaving. You are my family, and family doesn’t just leave.”

Since that day, Jane Seymour had found many things. The most important thing to note however, was that she did indeed find where her puzzle piece fit.

It did not fit into the tudor life that she had lived once before. It did not fit into the greyscale puzzle she had begun to create. No, her puzzle piece fit into this life- this wacky, silly, absurd puzzle of family with the other ex-wives of her past.

On many days, as the others would find, Jane Seymour’s puzzle piece completed their puzzle of life.

“So Jane,” Cathy laughed quietly as she leaned against the doorframe, the two watching the chaos that was unfolding in the house from a distance. “Think you found where your puzzle piece fits?”

“I think I did,” Jane smiled happily. “Wanna go finish today’s puzzle?”

“Let’s.” The writer offered a hand to the third queen, and together they joined in on the mayhem.

[sabraeal]

Age of Reason, Part 2

[Read on AO3]

Obiyuki AU Bingo 2021 Supernatural AU

The looming wrought-iron glares down at him; even choked with briars, it stands as proud as any guard, denying him entrance with a glance. She’d gotten in, she said, and out again even quicker. It’s possible. He just has to find the way.

His shoulders twitch, unimpressed.There’s a reason he wears gloves.

One hand wraps around a twisted bar, and a briar pierces through the leather like it’s paper. He recoils with a hiss, and to his extreme displeasure, the needle comes with him, broken right off near the glove.

He’s had worse splinters-- hell, he’s had worse stabs, but the thing’s hard to find even with the moonlight behind him. His head and shoulders keep falling into the worst angle, casting shadows shadows no matter which way he turns, leaving him to work half blind as he tries to pull it out. It makes it worse of course, each movement of his muscles sends the thing dancing around his palm, probing deeper into his flesh until he tears it out.

These damned gloves are supposed to protect him, but blood coats them still, shimmering black in the moonlight. He gives them a real contemplative look, some real consideration, and then cusses a streak so blue fire would be jealous. Damn that woman. If she’d gotten in, she owes him the professional courtesy of telling him how. He has half a mind to stomp right back to that tavern and shake her till she spills her secrets.

He takes a breath, holds it. It’s fine. This is far from the worst job he’s ever done.

The thing slides across the packed dirt, sand and scree skittering beneath its bare skin. It’s a woman in shape, diaphanous nightrail clinging so scandalously to its curves that wives clap hands over wandering eyes. She would have been a pretty girl in life, but in her undeath, she makes more than a convincing monster.

He stands in the holy circle of the Heavenly Maiden, salt staining his hands, and it hisses at him, back arched like a cat’s. Red stains its front, dribbling from full lips down to soak her gown.

“Kurei!” The name catches on the wind, already torn away. The mayor clutches at his door, lifting a hand to point through his wards. “It’s her-- the demon--”

“I know.” It’s an effort to lift the words out of a deadpan. “She’s no match for me.”

The spirit cocks its head; he knows that angle too well, the one that says, oh you think so? He lifts his shoulders, a subtle shrug. No hard feelings.

Her claws clench in the dirt. Ah, he’ll pay for that little line later. Already he’s at a disadvantage-- a full moon might have shone through, but with a chunk shaved from one side he’s stuck waiting for the wind to hurry it all along while he stands here, stalling.

His breath mists in the night air. Just one of the hazards of the job.

“You’re trapped in here with me, spirit.” In the dark, its hair is coarse, thick and black, rippling with each breath. The perfect hand-hold, should it dare tread close enough. “Your fight is with me!”

He grins as it growls, edging around his circle of salt. It follows, mimicking his movements, it on all fours and him on the balls of his feet. Already his cheek stings-- its limbs are long and strong but he didn’t expect the elbow to be so sharp-- but he doesn’t lift a hand to rub at it. Each moment here is the space between victory and condemnation, and he has none of them to spare.

Finally, the clouds part.

“I have you, beast!” Around him, the circle flares to life, the pure light of the heavens infusing it, glowing with an intensity would blind to those outside it. “Tempus fugit! Sapere aude! Ad meliora!”

For a moment its body leaps into the air, lunging for him, trying to tear his throat, but in the next it’s thrown to the ground, as if grabbed by heaven’s hand itself. With his last words still echoing in the square, the spirit spasms, voice railing to an unholy keen.

“Erat ergo sum! Quid pro quo!” He calls out, shaking holy water over it, black and red spotting her as he washes away its monstrous desires. “Non ducor duco!”

It gives a single, great heave of its body, and suddenly she’s limp, no longer a vengeful spirit but a girl once more. A mere husk that once held life. Mist rises from the circle as he lifts her body, curling coolly around his fingers.

“Caveat.” The night carrying his voice further than any earthy words should-- “Emptor.”

The villagers all peer out their windows, the more daring of them peeking out doors. Now that the danger’s over, everyone wants to see the monster hunter and his prey. He’s heard plenty talk about the noble nature of man, but none of them know the truth-- when fear strips away all else, it’s only cowardice and curiosity that remain.

“Kurei,” creaks the mayor. “What--?”

“It’s over,” he announces. “I must bring the corpse away from here, and bury it.” With a dark look, he adds, “Alone.”

He turns his back on them, letting the moon burn away the mist he leaves behind.

The barmaid here is all curves, coarse tawny hair tumbling down her back, meant to draw the eye straight to her swinging hips. A tempting morsel; at least by the way the men here follow her with their gaze, hungry for more than ale. The barman must have tripled his profits having a girl like her on; there’s no limit to drink a man can have while he’s thirsting with his eyes.

But not Shuuka. His stare is fixed right across the table, brows drawn tight in thought. “That’s some story, mister.”

“And all true.” He waits until the man takes a good, long draught from his cup to add, “I earn my keep traveling, finding spirits to soothe and monsters to cull. Or maidens to save, when the situation demands it.”

“Just maidens?” The barmaid sidles up to him, a frothing mug in hand, and already his mouth is watering. “Or are you looking to expand your repertoire?”

He lets his lips lilt into a leer. “I’m willing to help with any problem that needs solving, maiden or--” he lets his gaze rake up her-- “otherwise. Provided I’m welcome.”

Her own mouth is a mirror of his own. “You seem the sort to always be finding doors open, if you don’t mind me saying, mister.”

“Ah.” He hums, leaning close. The other men in the pub lean in too, faces ripe with envy. “That’s the trick of it-- I wait to be asked.”

Amusement flickers through her eyes, as amber as his own. She sets the mug in front of him, its thick head sloshing over the rim. “Here you are, on the house.”

The maid casts one last, linger look over at him, all hooded. The sort that says he could find more than a drink on the house if he played his cards right. And here’s him, a man who never lost a hand.

“So that’s what brings you here?” Shuuka says, voice tight. Nerves, he thinks, the sort a rational man might have in the face of the unknown. “Sh-- the prince’s mistress?”

Ah, or maybe that’s guilt, he’s hearing. “So it’s true, then? There’s a girl sleeping in that manor house?”

Shuuka’s fingers clench, knuckles white where they lay on the table. “If it was...?”

He doesn’t move, doesn’t breathe, just waits.

Dark eyes lift, glimmering as they meet his. “You could do something about it?”

He lets his mouth ease, swallowing down the victory in his throat. “I can’t do anything that would hurt.”

For a long moment, Shuuka sits still. Not the sort that comes from fear or hope but indecision. A man on a precipice.

And oh, how easy it is to see when they jump. “What’s your name? What do they...” He hesitates, swallowing. “What do they call you?”

“Lots of things. Jack of all trades, for one,” he hums, settling back in his seat. “Monster Hunter. Miracle Man. Savior.”

Shuuka’s brow draws tight. “You’re some kind of...priest?”

“Oh, no.” He lets his eyes linger when the barmaid bends at the waist, leaning over the counter to talk to the barman. “Not that. But you can call me...Nanaki.”

There’s a tree.

He surveys the old gnarled grandfather, its thinning leaves rustling in the wind, a single branch hunched over the briars. He should have guessed; it wasn’t like she was going to get her hands dirty and bleeding to take a look at a dead girl.

His hands flex, the leather around them creaking. His palm aches when he presses it to the trunk-- that’ll teach him to get impatient-- but he knows how to climb without relying on his grip. It’s nothing to shimmy right up, soles planted solid on grandfather’s inquisitive arm. He’d call this sloppy-- nobles often were, thinking that guards and dogs and a lady’s scream could keep them safe-- but...

Ten years. Plenty of time for even a well-trimmed tree to insinuate an elbow where it didn’t belong. Especially one that looked as nosy as this old grandfather did.

He edges out, the branch solid beneath his feet. Each step is inquisitive; impatient he may be, but enough tumbles from too high had taught him the value of respecting nature’s limit. The last thing he needs is for this to break over one of those fleur-tipped spears. Career limiting, his old master used to tell him, followed by one of those hideous braying laughs.

Dead was his preference. He might make his money putting on a show, but it didn’t serve to forget that some finales were final.

The branch bows beneath his feet, those iron-tips scraping at its bottom. Looks like he’s ridden this particular pony as far as it’ll go. With a breath and a wish, he leapt from the tree, tumbling down, down--

His feet catch, hard earth beneath them. No, stone, since his foot slips, nearly spilling him straight into a knot of brambles. Pretty ones, at least, dripping with roses as bright as an apple’s skin.

He whistles, plucking a petal off one. “Well now,” he breathes, letting it flutter away in the wind. “Isn’t that lucky.”

Cat calls and wolf whistles cleave through the din when the barmaid wraps her fingers around his wrist, leading him away from the table. There’s glares too, envy making eyes dark as he passes. There will be men who hate him in the morning for no other reason than he had what they couldn’t. It wouldn’t be the first time, and it certainly won’t be the last.

Fine by him, anyway. Angry men are easy to predict-- they only want to do what will cause the most pain. It’s the ones that cheer him on that are dangerous; they need to be courted, molded.

Shuuka is neither. Curious.

“Hey, hero,” the barmaid purrs, pressing her body against his. “Keep your eyes where they belong.”

By the swing of her hips, she means on her. Well, it’s certainly not a bad view.

She sashays up those last few steps, shoving him into a room--

Torou’s smile is gone the moment the latch catches. “You are on your own with this one. I am out.”

Leaving Oberwald takes an extra day; the villagers keep him plied with ale until he tumbles into bed. When he wakes while the sky’s still moonless and dark, two sets of hands rubbing down his chest. Who is he to deny himself a reward so justly earned?

Still, waiting makes the spirits restless.

“Serves you right,” he grouses, rubbing at the new lump dulling the sharp edge of his cheekbone. “You’re supposed to make it look good, not actually hit me!”

The spirit folds her arms across her chest-- or under it, rather, framing their best asset when it comes to fooling these bumpkins. A barmaid with big tits never fails to turn heads, and should someone get suspicious of the girl who disappears when the evil spirit does, well-- no one can pick her face from a crowd.

“Oh, complain, complain.” The huff she lets out doesn’t even have a hint of remorse. “I’m sure you got those village girls to kiss it all better.”

He can’t help his grin. “Two of ‘em.”

“Ugh.” Her eyes roll, the kohl still clinging to the corner of them. It’s the most stubborn part of the makeup, but Torou makes do; by the next town she’ll have wings drawn on so sharp they could cut a man’s throat. “How is it you get to bed down with every miss looking for a good time, but I can only look at all those strapping young farm boys?”

“Pitchforks. Torches,” he reminds her. “Us, running away in the middle of the night...”

No one remembers the barmaid, except for an angry wife. And they know how to drum up some bloody-minded friends once night falls. That’s another thing that makes the spirits angry, but well, that’s not his problem. Maybe if they were more circumspect, they could tumble a few village boys-- or girls-- if they liked.

“Fine,” she mutters, itching at her neck. Some red flakes off, falling to the dirt below, lost beneath the tread of their boots. “Where to next?”

He’d thought he’d been mulling it over still, but the second she asks, it’s the answer at the tip of his tongue. The only one.

“Nowhere that needs a drowned girl!” Torou warns him, pitch raising to one that would make dogs howl. “My ears still don’t feel right after the last one...”

“Clarines.”

She scuffs to a halt. “Clarines? The ‘realm of reason?’ That Clarines?”

He doesn’t stop, just shortens his stride as he puts a jaunty skip in his step. “The very same.”

Her steps start again, hurrying to keep pace with his. “Why? I thought they were enlightened out there. Above all this folk talk.”

“No one is, if we play them well enough.” He slides her a sly smile. “And we will.”

“Best of the best,” she agrees. “So what’s the score?”

His grin pulls wide. “I hope you have your kissing lips ready. We have a princess to awaken.”

His hands fly up between them, trying to ward off her waggling finger. She’s carrying five knives at minimum, but of all the weapons on her body, that finger scares him the most. “Torou, come on--”

“Don’t you ‘come on’ me, Nanaki.” She doesn’t need a steel when her tone’s already so pointed. “I’m not going back there, not even if you beg me. Not even if you drag me. I’ll gnaw off my own leg if you try.”

“Torou, what--?” She shifts, just enough for him to see the wide stretch of her eyes, pupils blown and white all around the rim. “Are you...scared?”

“Scared? Scared?” Torou laughs, wild. “I’m terrified. We’ve played a lot of games, but this, this-- this curse thing, it’s real.”

“Oh, c’mon,” he huffs, leaning against a bedpost. “You know that’s not true. We’ve been running this grift for how long now, and the only supernatural thing out there is how easily everyone will believe it.”

“Listen, that’s what I thought. That’s what I always thought, you know that.” Her voice trembles, shoulders hunching around her chest. “But I went there. I went right into that manor to case the joint-- I knew there’d be stuff in there, stuff we could sell and get out of this rat race.”

His jaw slackens. They’d never talked about that, about what could lie at the end of a real good grift, of what they would do if they had enough coin to stop. He hadn’t even known she’d wanted to, let alone that she--

“I went in there,” she murmurs, rounding into herself. “And someone-- someone screamed.”

He licks his lips, brain jittering with the thought of this ending, or having somewhere to stop. “Screamed?”

“Don’t laugh.” Torou’s voice barely wavers above a whisper. “Someone screamed, and I-- I went to find them. Maybe some kid got in there and broke a leg. I could get some credit you know, really get those bumpkins eating out of my palm. But I walked in and--” she chokes, fingers clawing at her throat-- “there was blood, so much blood, just covering the floor, and then--”

Her breath fills his ears, so harsh, so pained. He’s only heard her like this once, back before, and his blood runs cold.

“And then.” Her hand comes out to grip his wrist, drawing him into her terrified gaze. “It sounded like someone was dying.”