#so if that gives you a clue about one of the tattoos I got

[sarah-dipitous]

Should I have watched my daily hellsite nostalgia shows before I got tattoos that (with them being this raw) are making arm movements uncomfy? Maybe. But I didn’t.

[himbosandhardwear]

It's a stupid fucking scheme, and he never would've gone along with it if he was sober, but she really didn't give him much time to contemplate it, she just shoved him into the pantry and yelled for Eddie to come into the kitchen.

Now he's got his head pressed against the slats while Rob asks Eddie if he thinks Steve is cute. Like they're in the fifth grade.

“Uhh,” Eddie drawls, clearly confused and put on the spot.

“C'mon,” she coaxes, “you can tell me, gay to lesbian solidarity.”

That's terrible, using that to weasel the information out of him.

“I mean…sure, I guess he's alright,” Eddie admits. “He's not really my type though.”

Oh.

Well…that's…fine.

“Seriously?” Rob asks like she doesn't believe him. “You don't think he's hot?”

“I wouldn't kick him out of bed for eating crackers, but, yeah, seriously. Not my thing. He's too…I don't know, high maintenance or something. I like my guys a little more, like, dingy.”

Steve nods to himself in understanding. He should've seen that coming but he hadn't. It's sobering.

Robin isn't finished arguing her case, the beautiful idiot. “Steve's dingy!” She yells, making Eddie laugh. “He is! He's plenty dingy! And he has other fine qualities! Like, uh, loyalty! And being helpful!”

“Are you trying to set me up with your painfully straight best friend or a golden retriever?”

“Steve's not-”

“Okay!” Steve shouts, bursting out of the pantry, yes he understands the irony, with both hands waving. “This was fun but let's wrap it up.”

Eddie stares at him, wide-eyed, but it quickly melts into anger. “What the fuck, Buckley? What kind of weird, pointless ambush is this?”

“It wasn't pointless, you fucking troglodyte. If you were paying attention-”

“Rob.” Steve didn't mean for his voice to do that but it has the intended effect. She clamps her mouth shut and pouts. “Sorry,” he says to both of them. To Eddie, “Seriously, it was a stupid idea. We're both drunk and being stupid, just forget this happened.”

Unfortunately, it doesn't look as though Eddie is going to forget any time soon. In fact, it's more like he's studying them both for clues, the wheels turning despite the whiskey and weed gumming them up.

Steve's about to turn tail and run when the lightbulb goes off. Eddie doesn't look like he believes the conclusion he's come to but he's figured it out nonetheless. “Wait. No. Seriously? No way.”

His eyeballs are aching. He pushes against them, causing starbursts behind the eyelids. “Can we please not do this?” He begs.

Eddie sputters. “If this is me finding out you're queer, Steve Harrington, then yes, we most certainly are!” He looks at Robin but she's stonewalling him in solidarity.

The fact that neither of them has said anything to the contrary is damning enough. Steve might as well have ‘bisexual’ tattooed across his forehead.

“Holy shit.” Eddie snatches Robin by the wrist, she tries to wrestle her way out but he's jangling her about like a rag doll. “Holy shit! You were trying to set us up! Holy shit!”

“Let go, asshole! You ruined it, remember?”

He does let her go, so he can stare at Steve in horror. “No! Fuck! Steve, I was bullshitting! I was lying my ass off, I swear!” He tries to round the corner of the island but Steve moves to keep it between them, unsure of this sudden development. Eddie stops when it's clear Steve isn't reciprocating.

They stare at each other until Robin breaks the awkward silence. “Prove it.”

Eddie shakes off the cobwebs. “Huh? I mean, how? I wasn't exactly doodling Mr Edward Harrington into my journals.”

She crosses her arms. “Then I guess we're done here.”

Steve doesn't point out that she's not actually in charge of this situation because it seems to motivate Eddie into action. He gives them the ‘one moment’ finger and then dashes outside.

“You believe him?” She mumbles.

“I don't know. At this point I'd probably settle for him looking to turn me into a bedpost notch.”

“Have some self-respect.”

“Nah.”

Eddie comes back, dragging Jeff by the arm.

“Tell him!” He shouts, finger pointed at Steve.

“Tell him what?”

“The thing that shall not be spoken.”

Jeff raises one eyebrow. “How am I supposed to-”

“Oh my god, just tell him.”

“No.”

Eddie blanches. “No? What do you mean, no?”

“You made me swear.”

“So?! I'm unswearing you! This is important! I need you to unfuck this situation, pronto! You can give him all the gory details, I don't give a fuck, just tell him!”

A gleam sparkles in Jeff's eye. “Every gory detail?”

Now Eddie, correctly wary, hesitates, glancing at Steve nervously. “Well, maybe not all-”

Jeff interrupts Eddie, turning fully toward Steve with, “Eddie is bananas in love with you. Probably has been since school, but it's gotten so much worse since this spring. I'd say seventy five percent of the songs he's written are about you. He's also got a fully fleshed out fantasy life involving you, including, but not limited to, five adopted Vietnamese kids, two cats and a dog.” He turns back to Eddie. “Can I go back outside now? Those hotdogs aren't going to eat themselves.”

Eddie, eyes closed, waves him away.

Before he's fully out of the kitchen, he turns and says, “Oh, also he has a VHS copy of one of your swim meets. Bought it off of some AV kid for sixty bucks.”

Steve's stomach, already roiling with excited nerves, erupts in butterflies.

Eddie does not notice this, head buried under crossed arms on the island.

“I think we've swung too far in the other direction,” Rob points out, oblivious to Steve's excitement. When she finally does notice, it's met with rolled eyes. “Of course you're into that. Absolute freaks, the both of you. You know what? Good. Take each other off the market. My job here is done.”

She hops off the stool and leaves them alone.

Eddie cautiously pokes his head up, sees Steve smiling at him and jolts up straight like a prairie dog. “You believe me?”

He wants to toy with him for a minute, a touch of revenge for the dismissal he made earlier. “What swim meet was it?” He asks, like a test.

Without missing a beat, Eddie answers, “March of ‘85. You beat some kid from West Jefferson by four seconds.”

Steve preens. Eddie isn't bullshitting, he really did beat that kid from West Jeff. Only someone who gave a shit to pay attention would know that off hand. The whiskey makes another appearance in his bloodstream, giving him the courage to lean over the counter, into Eddie's space.

“So…you like me?”

Eddie has this incredibly endearing habit of hiding behind his hair when he’s nervous, it takes Steve out at the knees every time he sees it. “I'm gonna be really pissed off if this is some convoluted prank but…yeah, man, I fucking like you. Romantically. In case that was in question.”

“Mmm,” Steve agrees. “What are our kids' names?”

Eddie closes his eyes against Steve's smug stare. “I hate Jeff so much.”

“I don't. I'll thank him at our wedding. Maybe we name one of the kids after him.”

When Eddie peeks at him, one eyed, Steve does his best to convey his amusement and fondness both.

His body goes lax, finally, at seeing Steve take all it seriously. “Okay, so I like the idea of all of them keeping their Vietnamese names, except one who we name James.”

“After Hetfield?”

“Can I kiss you?”

“Yes. Please.”

Some time later, after making out in the pantry for a while, Steve vetoes James, but only because he doesn't want the poor kid to grow up with a complex.

“We’ll call the dog Jimmy.”

“Cool.”

[chunghasweetie]

𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐔𝐏 𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐄𝐄𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 | J.JK

— pairing | fem!oc x gangsta!jjk

— summary | gangsta jk wants to crash at her place but she got a lil some up her sleeve

— warning | bad writing (i’m doing my best)

cussing, angst, smut, unprotected sex, illegal activities, gun play, mention of head, oc gets fucked with a gun, whining, cum eating, dirty talk.

— word count | 3.9k words

— song suggestion | gangsta (orchestra ver) —kehlani

It was the same thing everyday.

Work, go home, sleep.

Nothing ever changed and it had been like that for way too long.

She needed to switch things up somehow but she didn’t even have the energy to think of what could solve her issues.

Until he came along.

The two met at the liquor store randomly at around 2am. They reached for the same bottle, chuckling at the similar intention.

She immediately caught his eye. Which was surprising to her since she was in her pajamas with messy hair and no makeup.

He asked for her number and they had little meetups here and there.

He was so secretive and mysterious about what he was doing. Not in a gross, womanizer way. In a way that made her want to learn more about him.

He was ‘Jeon’ in her phone. She didn’t even have his full name.

He was inked up in tattoos. Tall and definitely bulky with muscle all over him. He was crafted beautifully.

He had a nice car. She noticed the extremely dark tint and possibly illegal modifications applied to the vehicle.

She had no clue what kind of job he worked or what he did in his day to day life.

Until one day he finally told her. He was the Jeon Jungkook that had been on the run for multiple crimes and ran a large gang in the city.

And she’d been fucking him the entire time.

He knew from the start she wouldn’t turn him in. He had her wrapped around her finger.

He knew all about her dilemma. How she needed that change in her life.

He was more than willing to provide that escape.

She craved something new, and he was just the man to give it to her.

“Let me come over baby.” He spoke on the other line. “Miss you.”

She was on her couch, biting her lip.

She knew he was not a good man at all. She knew that from the beginning. For years she promised herself she’d never be associated with any one of the sort.

Always following the rules got so boring.

“Don’t be like that.” Jungkook hummed. “I just wanna see you. You don’t want to see me Y/n?”

His voice was so dominant and demanding. He was strict and for right to it.

He somehow was able to have his own phone number that was untraceable by the police.

He was crazy good at avoiding getting caught.

“Okay.” Y/n gave in.

“Mm knew you’d be smart about this.” Jungkook chuckled to her, hanging up and getting in his car to head to her apartment.

She tilted her head back on her couch, sighing.

She didn’t think it would come to this. She thought things like this only happened in stories or in the movies.

This was the last thing she was thinking about. She couldn’t help herself though.

How could she? Jungkook may have been a criminal but he was so hot.

His voice was like a pied piper.

She was so drawn to him. His looks, his charisma, his body, everything.

She wouldn’t call it love. She couldn’t call it love. It was mere attraction and that’s all she labeled it as.

She always thought he looked like he was straight out of a TV show. Although he was rough around the edges, he was super sweet and caring considering what his lifestyle was like.

“Open up mama! Cold as fuck out here!” He yelled out, snapping her out of her thoughts.

Jungkook was at her apartment door, dressed in his white tank and tan cargo pants. His tank emphasized his muscular, tattooed arms so well.

He had a bouquet of roses in his hand, waiting for his girl to answer the door.

He was always doing such romantic gestures for her. There would be nights he wouldn’t want to do anything sexual. Simply coming over to spend time with her.

Once Y/n opened the door, he couldn’t help but curve his lips into a smile.

“Well look at you.” His eyes moved from the bottom to the top of her body. “Gorgeous.” He stepped in, immediately wrapping his arms around her once she shut the door.

She took a silent inhale. He smelt so damn good.

Maybe it was something in the cologne he was wearing that made her so attached to him. His scent instantly sent her into a trance.

“Hey.” Y/n replied. “Was just about to make dinner.”

“You were?” He mumbled against her neck. “Make me something baby.”

She nodded, agreeing. “You’re gonna have to let go of me.”

“Ugh fine.” He groaned. “Spending the night again. Cops looking for me alllll over.”

He knew they’d never find him, but the excuse always worked.

“That’s fine.” She nodded.

She did get anxious when he’d say things like that.

He was a fugitive and she was keeping him in her home.

Jungkook went up to her room, getting comfy in the clothes he already had over there.

She had started cooking for the both of them, making some chicken and rice dish she seen online.

As Y/n focused on her cooking, Jungkook was leaning back on the counter, simply staring at her.

“I like this.”

“You like what?” She blinked.

“Seeing you all domestic and shit.” He chuckled.

“I’m just cooking dinner.” She smiled.

“Mm it’s more than that.” He chuckled. “Making me a nice meal, having clean clothes for me, gonna tuck me into bed later. Love when we play house like this Y/n.”

She blushed. “I guess it is nice.”

“Food smells good.” Jungkook inhaled. “You smell better.” He wrapped his arms around her waist.

“I’m wearing that perfume you bought me last week.” She told him as she was making his plate.

“Oh really? It smells even better than it did in the store.” He hummed against her neck. “You’re wearing the jewelry I bought you too.”

“Of course. Never taking it off.” She chuckled.

“Good. If I’m iced out my girl gotta be too.” He planted a kiss on her neck.

“Well it’s very nice to be spoiled like this.” She giggled, handing him his plate. “Now go eat while it’s hot.”

He removed his body from hers, taking a seat at the table.

“Taste test it baby.” She told him, “I’ll start eating in a minute.”

He nodded, trying the food.

“How is it? Good?”

"Good's an understatement. Shit's fucking amazing, baby." He takes another bite and watches her.

“Yay! Happy you like it.” Y/n replied from the kitchen, trying to clean up some of her mess.

"You ain't made yourself a plate yet? Come here and sit." He looked over at her.

“Okay okay.” She nodded, getting a beer from the fridge for him. She made herself a plate finally and sat down at the table.

He leans back in his chair and crosses his arms over his chest after she set the beer down in front of him. "Ain't no one else gonna take care of me like this. I’m lucky to have you.”

“You are.” She laughed. “Doubt any of those other girls know how to care of you.”

“What other girls?” He rose his eyebrow. “Jealous of the girls I’m around?”

“How could I not be?” She questioned. “I just don’t understand.”

He smirks as he picks up the beer and takes a long swig, his throat moving as he swallows.

“Don’t understand what?”

“Why you stick around me.” She spoke. “There’s girls who do the same shit you do. You and your boys go out and there’s strippers and bottle girls. I’m a regular ass person.”

He frowned at her, looking honestly confused. "What the fuck you talking about mama?" He asked as he leaned back in his chair and shook his head.

"I chose you because of you. Fuck all these other bitches. You're the only one who can handle my shit." He said honestly.

“That can’t just be it.” She shook her head.

“So what? You think I’m just in it for a good fuck?”

“That’s not— exactly it.” She sighed.

She could tell he’s growing a bit irritated but it was bugging her.

She knew guys hated that sappy shit. But she couldn’t help that she was getting her emotions get in the way.

He leaned back again, crossing his arms over his chest. He stared at her from across the table before speaking.

"Then fucking tell me, Y/n. What is it?" He asked, his voice growing softer but still holding onto that edge of annoyance.

“Forget it. Nevermind.” She sighed, finishing her food and taking her plate to the sink to wash it.

He watched her finish her food and take the plate to the sink. "You can't start a conversation like that and then drop it, babe." He said.

He began walking up behind her as she washed the plate. "You wanna know why I'm with you?

“I just want to know what we’re doing here. You’ve been coming over for months now and you’re doing all these romantic things for me and I just want to know what’s up.” She spoke honestly.

He stood behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist gently, resting his chin on her shoulder. "I like you here, like this. I like showing you a good time, you know?" He turned her around in his arms and gazed down at her.

“What does that even mean” She mumbled as she washed plates.

He lifted a hand to her cheek, thumb brushing against it gently. "It means I like being with you, mama. It feels...right.”

He leaned in closer to her, eyes searching hers. "I like spoiling you, taking care of you. Feels different than anyone before..."

As much as she wanted to pester him more about the subject, she didn’t say anything else.

He seemed to notice the hesitance and smiled softly, ducking his head to press a soft kiss against her lips. "You don't gotta overthink it, Y/n. It's just...good, okay? You know I love you.”

She finished up the dishes, putting them away to dry.

He watched her for a moment, before moving to her side and starting to help her with cleaning.

His hand brushed against yours, sending a shiver down her spine.

"Y/n, it's okay. I promise you." He whispered, leaning in to press another kiss against her temple. “I love you.”

“Love you too.” She thanked him. Her lips curved into a smile. “I mean it is cute to see this buff tattooed bad guy get all sappy and shit for me for me.”

He chuckled and shook his head, his eyes crinkling up with amusement. "You better not tell anyone" He threatened, his voice dropping lower as he spoke. "You love it though...”

“I guess I do.”

He laughed softly and pressed a kiss to her cheek. "I know you do." He whispered, his arms tightening around her as he let out a content sigh. "You're the only one who gets to see this side of me.”

“I’ll consider myself lucky then.” She laughed. “I was successfully able to tame the beast.”

He chuckled lightly and pressed a kiss to her neck, holding his arms tighter around her.

"You did more than tame the beast, baby...you own me completely. Shit, you could put a leash and collar on my ass anytime." He whispered hotly against her neck, his lips ghosting over her skin as he spoke.

She couldn’t help but laugh at his joke.

“I could keep you laughing and satisfied all day, if you'll just let me." He mumbled.

“Oh I’d let you anyyyy day of the week.” She laughed. “See what you’ve done to me?”

“I haven’t done shit baby that was all you.” He chuckled.

“Whatever.”

"Yeah, yeah, yeah whatever you say, baby." He picked her up effortlessly, “Let’s go upstairs hm?”

“Thought you’d never ask.” She agreed, allowing him to take her.

He chuckled, lifting her over his shoulder and carrying her upstairs as he kissed her thighs and gave your ass a playful squeeze. "Look at you...so fucking fine. You know I can't resist."

“Oh my gosh Jungkook.” She blushed as they got inside her room.

"That's right, babe. I got you...right where I want you." He tossed her onto the bed before crawling up to her body, kissing and nibbling at her neck. "If only these walls could talk..."

“Jungkook!” She hid her face in embarrassment, getting flashbacks of all the different things they had done in her room.

"Oh come on, don't hide from me now, Y/n." He kissed her cheek as he caressed her face.

"Do you remember the first time we fucked in this room?" Jungkook smirked and laughed. "You were begging for my cock, mama.”

“That’s not what happened!” She instantly denied.

Jungkook laughed harder, his eyes shining mischievously.

"Oh yes, you were mama don’t play! And when you finally got it you were screaming your lungs out. Kept going on and on about how it was the best sex you’ve ever had…” He continued, not giving her the chance to speak.

“This is so humiliating.” She groaned, hiding her face in embarrassment by flipping the blanket over her face.

Jungkook tugged the blanket down a little, showing her face again. "Don't be shy, Y/n. I fucking loved it when I made you scream my name. And made you cum on the first try?" He crawled on top of her again, his knees on either side of her hips.

“You’re so annoying.”

Jungkook chuckled. "That's not what you were saying when I had my cock in your mouth, babe."

His eyes glinted with amusement as he leaned down to kiss her. "I can make you forget all about your embarrassment again, if you want?"

“How’re you going to do that?” She asked, playing dumb.

Jungkook kissed her slowly, running his tongue along the edge of her lips.

He reached down between her legs and began rubbing, his touch firm and confident. "Do I need to give you a reminder right now?"

He immediately earned a soft moan from her, making him to smirk to himself.

Jungkook smiled mischievously, his fingers never leaving that soft spot between her thighs.

"That's a good girl. Just like that." He began driving his fingers in rhythm with his tongue, letting out a moan of his own. "Is this better, Y/n?”

“Mhm!” She moaned, nodding her head quickly.

Jungkook chuckled against her lips, picking up the pace at her small moan.

"You're fucking soaked, you know that, right mama?" His voice was low, amused. "Looks like I can still make you wet."

She could feel his gun pressed against her from his waistband. It drove her fucking insane with lust.

Jungkook felt her press closer, rubbing against his gun. He smirked at her before moving his hand, placing the gun in plain sight for her.

"See something you like, babe?" He said with a chuckle, twirling it around his finger.

“I-I feel it.” She croaked. She had always been curious about his gun in ways she never thought she was the type to fantasize about.

Jungkook grinned, setting it down gently. "Wanna touch it, babe?" His voice was low and inviting.

He took a step back, giving her room to move. "Just be careful, though. It's loaded." He teased.

She nodded quietly, “I do.”

Jungkook watched her grab the gun, letting you get a feel for its weight. He didn't interrupt, just watch her curiously.

"You like?" He asked with a smirk. "Don't tell me you have some kind of fetish for guns."

“I- um.” She swallowed, “Something like that? Well I’ve never done anything but— I’ve been curious.” She handed his gun back to him.

Jungkook took the gun carefully, his smirk growing into a full-on grin. "I knew it."

He whispered seductively. "Why don't we test out that curiosity of yours?" He suggested with a raise of his eyebrow.

“How?”

Jungkook pulled her a little bit closer, his free hand wandering up her side before resting on the edge of her waist.

"Do you want me to fuck you with it? How does that sound?" He smirked, unloading the gun in front of her. He places the gullets on her nightstand.

She nodded, letting a quiet ‘please’ slip from her lips.

Jungkook let out a low growl at her response, his grip on the gun tightening.

"You like that idea, Y/n?" He asked. His free hand wandered to the hem of her shirt, slowly lifting it upwards. "Lay back."

She didn’t hesitate to do so, laying back.

Jungkook bit his lip seductively as he looked down at her, the gun clicking gently in his fingers. "Fuck, yes." He said admiringly.

He bit his lip, placing the gun down in a position of reach before trailing his fingers lower and low on her stomach.

Her pussy was sopping wet with need. Her core aching as she watched the now unloaded gun in his hand.

Jungkook watched her with a lustful gaze as he heard her words, biting his lip again before placing the gun on her lip.

"You're so fucking wet for me already, huh? Mama so ready to get fucked with my gun huh baby?" He asked.

“So pretty Y/n.” His hand sliding lower still until he could feel her wetness. “Get the gun all nice and wet for me baby.”

She kept her gaze on him, spitting and sucking on the muzzle the gun like she was told to.

Jungkook groaned at the sight, glancing down at her almost hungrily. "Fucking hell you're such a hungry little girl, y'know that?"

Jungkook couldn't resist her whiny plea any longer, as he pulled the gun out of her mouth.

He lined the gun muzzle up with her entrance. He slowly slid the gun inside of her, gasping at the sight.

A gasp and an ‘oh fuck’ left her lips. Once adjusted, she instantly melted into the feeling, a moan leaving her lips.

It felt better than how she ever could’ve imagined it to be.

Jungkook groaned at her reaction, watching as he slowly slid the gun in and out of her.

"Fuck Y/n you're loving this aren't you? You're such a slut for my gun and I just now put it in you.” He chuckled.

“J-Jungkook” She moaned out his name, biting her lip. “Fuck that feels good.”

With her voice echoing his name, Jungkook lost control of his actions.

He began thrusting the gun in and out of her faster, even pulling her legs over his shoulders.

"Shit you like watching me fuck your pussy with my gun huh?” He spoke to her. “Been practically humping me for weeks. All that to get to my gun huh baby?”

It was so true.

Whenever they made out she would get super close and grind herself on the imprint of his gun. She almost could cum off just rubbing against it.

“Oh fuck yes!” She whined, “Jungkook I fucking love this.”

Jungkook loved her weak voice. Watching her squirm only made him plunge the gun faster.

"Looking so good taking it in. I wanna fuck you all day like this." He whispered seductively in her ear, sucking on her bottom lip.

Her wetness coated the gun, “F-Fuck oh my gosh” She whimpered. “A-All this time I— Fuck” She could hardly talk.

With the gun still inside of her, Jungkook grabbed her chin and forced her to look at him.

"All this time you wanted my gun? Every day I'd bend you over and plow you right... fucking... here..." He grunted. “But this gun was all you really wanted hm?”

“Mmm I— just wanted it so bad jungkook you don’t understand.” She quivered her lip.

A smirk appeared on his face as he began to thrust the gun harder and deeper inside her.

"I understand now baby. I know how badly you wanted it." He growled, grabbing her hips with both hands.

Jungkook smirked, thrusting the gun even harder, making her whimper. "You're such a dirty little slut for me. That's right baby, tell me how much you need my gun to get off.”

“Jungkook please— Feels so fucking good. Never had anything like this. Mm— such a slut.” She was rambling.

The way the gun was penetrating her made her whine with pleasure as it stretched her in the best way possible.

“Came so— so many times. Just from the thought.” She kept going. “Fuck— I was changing the sheets every damn hour”

His cocky grin widened as he pressed the gun deeper, his other hand traveling down to her soaked pussy.

He teased her clit with his fingers, "That's my girl. I want you soaked for me every damn hour.”

“Fuck— You’re killing me.” The double stimulation overwhelmed her.

"Is that too much for you baby? Can't handle it?" He chuckled, thrusting the gun harder, before pressing his fingers deeper, curling them to hit her g-spot.

She gasped again, gripping onto the sheets. “I-I can just— Shit it’s too fucking good” She cursed, grabbing onto her breast with her other hand.

"You love it, don't you baby? When I take control like this." He leaned down, pressing his lips against her ear. "I own every inch of you, and you fucking know it. Whether it’s my cock or my gun.”

She was milking his gun with her juices, whimpering and whining. The gun was fucking her absolutely stupid.

“D-Don’t think I can take any more.” She managed to get out, “W-Wanna cum on the gun”

Jungkook laughed, shaking his head as he continued to thrust the gun into her, pulling the trigger back twice.

The empty clicks filling the room, while he got to touch her throbbing pussy. "You want to cum, huh mama?”

“Jungkook please” She begged him to cum. The sounds of the empty clicks driving her insane.

“You're crazy mama. Absolutely insane." He groaned.

He pulled the trigger back one last time, hearing the empty click after he was spent.

“Jungkook please! I want to cum so bad!” tears of pleasure ran down her cheeks.

"You're more desperate than I thought." Jungkook grabbed her hair, pulling hard as his other hand began rubbing your needy little clit hard.

"Cum on the gun Y/n."

She didn’t waste a second, letting her juices flow and drop down the gun barrel.

He felt his cock twitch at her screams as she came, splashing hot cum all over his hand and the gun.

"Good fucking girl. Now clean this shit up.” He aimed the muzzle of the gun facing her mouth.

“W-What? You want me to clean it?”

“That's what I said." He replied with a snarl as he began stroking his cock again, dripping wet cum from the tip of it.

She obeyed him, sucking and licking her cum off of the gun. She dragged her tongue all over the barrel, looking into his eyes as she did so.

His hands gripped the gun tightly as he watched her sucking and licking her cum off. It was perverted as hell, but his cock was twitching again.

His eyes darkened, and he felt his cock twitch at her words, the sight of her on her knees with his cum mixing with hers.

"I know.." He purred as he pulled the gun away from your her. "Now come here. I got something else for you to suck.”

[rhysazriel]

Smoke & Light: Part 2 [Plug!Az]

SUMMARY: Azriel hasn’t been able to get you out of his head, and when you agree to smoke with him and go for a drive, truths aren’t the only things that are shared. (6.6k)

WARNINGS: lots to unpack tbh, so let’s start with swearing, (male) masturbation, teasing, flirting, kissing (!!!!!), mentions of abusive families, reoccurring themes of use of recreational drugs (weed), Az driving while smoking/stoned (I do not condone that so please do not do that in real life!!)

A/N: firstly, thank you so incredibly much for all of the love on part one, I’m so excited to share what I have planned for this series!! This part is longer than the first, so maybe grab a drink and a snack hehe

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“Why don’t we give the brownies idea a try?”

Azriel’s head felt like it may explode. For the past two hours, he’d been stuck in a discussion between his brothers regarding new ideas for new products to sell. And while Az and Rhys had no ideas to suggest (all agreeing cocaine, molly and ket were not up for discussion), Cassian was still hellbent on making weed brownies—despite knowing not a damn thing about baking. 

“Cass,” Rhys sighed, pinching sharply at the bridge of his nose. Azriel was going to lose his shit, he couldn’t go through this again—for a fifth fucking time. “We literally spoke about this last week! None of us know how to bake!” 

Cassian paid no mind to Rhysand’s clear frustrations with him and scoffed as he threw his head back on the couch. “It can’t be that fucking hard.” 

“Then by all means, buy your own shit and burn it while you try and figure it out.” 

Azriel blinked, looking between the pair. He’d barely said a word, too worried he may get a bit too heated. Cassian got like this sometimes—most of the time—and more often than not, Az got the idea he only did it to get a reaction out of Rhys, who had very little patience when it came to him.

Someone had to play mediator and devil’s advocate in every situation, and somehow, even since they were teens, that role always landed on Azriel’s shoulders. 

Deciding enough was enough, he leant forward and peered between them both. “As much as edibles would help out sales, Rhys is right,” Cassian snickered at him, “It’s not a good idea right now. Not when we have no clue what we’re doing, and especially not when we’re having problems with our supplier right now.”

It was silent in the room for a moment, for the first time in an hour. And after a few minutes passed and no one spoke, Rhys stood from the couch with a sigh. “I’ve gotta get going to the parlour. All my sketches are there and I’ve got a long day and a huge back piece to tattoo tomorrow.” 

He clapped a hand against both Az and Cassian’s shoulders before bidding them a goodbye and leaving. Cassian remained sulking on the couch, thick and toned arms crossed on his chest with an unsatisfied scowl on his face. Azriel took purchase on the coffee table in front of him, lips pursed to suppress his amusement.

Cassian often got like this if he was told no or something didn’t go his way. When they were younger, Azriel used to roll his eyes and tell him to get over it. But now, in their mid-twenties and Cassian sharing a striking resemblance to that hunky character from that one Disney movie, Azriel found his sulking the best form of entertainment. 

“Are you not working tonight?” Az broke the silence with a lighthearted question. As much as he found his brothers face amusing, he didn’t really have the energy to deal with it all fucking night. He had shit to do, people to see. And he didn’t particularly want to bring Cassian along to his drop off’s—not when Cass scared the shit out of most people. 

“Club’s closed, waiting for Nes to finish. Staying at hers tonight,” he mumbled.

Relief was quick to flow through Azriel’s blood as he let out a breath. His phone chimed from his back pocket as he said, “Tell her I say hi,” and a gentle smile tugged at the corners of Cassian’s mouth.

Az and Nesta had a decent friendship, he was closer to her than he was Feyre, but maybe that was because Nesta didn’t tiptoe around Az like most other people did. Maybe that was why he liked you so much. You didn’t shy under his gaze, and you didn’t treat him differently after noticing his scarred hands. 

Yes, he saw you watching, inspecting with hurt and curious eyes. But you didn’t say anything so neither did he. And when you purposely brushed your skin against his when you took that bag of bud, he knew you’d done it out of silent reassurance. 

And yet, he hadn’t heard from you since you met three days ago. Not that he expected you to message so soon, not after you said the 3.5 would last around two weeks, but he still felt that deep disappointment whenever he checked his phone and your name wasn’t the one to have messaged him. 

He needed to get a grip on himself, really. But you were different. So different from anyone he’d ever met or known before. You didn’t play up to any facade, you didn’t hesitate to tease him back. You were honest, painfully so when you admitted you were clueless, but that only made him find you even more endearing. 

“What about you?” Cassian’s voice drilled into his ears, abruptly pulling Azriel away from the memory of you. He quickly typed back a reply to a client that he could drop off within the hour and shoved his phone back in his pocket. 

“What about me?” Az asked. 

“Any plans?” 

Azriel shrugged, elbows leaning on his spread thighs and the oak coffee table creaked beneath his firm weight. “I’ve got a few deals to do, but that’s about it.”

Cass nodded, finally unfolding his arms and letting them drop to his sides. “Well, you know where I’ll be if you wanna come by, Nes would be happy to see you.”

Azriel raised a brow. “I saw her two days ago.”

His brother gave him a look, one that suggested ‘yeah, I know, but you’re like her best friend and she loves you to literal death’, and that was that. 

Cass left soon after, picking Nesta up from work and leaving Azriel home alone for what seemed like the thousandth night in a row. He didn’t mind it, not really. He enjoyed his own company and when Cass stayed at Nesta’s and Rhys stayed at Feyre’s, it meant Az could play around with new melodies and not be scolded for playing guitar at 4 a.m. and waking everybody up. 

Having the apartment to himself was a win-win for everyone involved. 

Only tonight, he didn’t want to sit and play with new sounds and rhythms. Not when his mind was completely distracted by you. By your smile, your eyes, by that sensual voice of yours that he hadn’t stopped replaying in his memory for the past three days. 

It wouldn’t hurt to send just one text, right? Just the one, just to check in on how you were finding the bud. As if you hadn't smoked it before they met. 

He shouldn’t. This wasn’t what he did—he didn’t chase after girls, he never had, and he most certainly did not get hooked—especially not on someone he’d known for three days. 

And yet, despite that, Azriel found himself on your messages, hovering his fingers over the keyboard and typing out a quick text and sending it before he could even think about it. 

Azriel: how’s the bud?

But it wasn’t his lack of thinking before sending the message that had his jaw slack, no. It was the fact that as soon as the message travelled from the box to the messaging thread, you had already opened it. Like you were already on the chat. Perhaps debating your own text to him. 

Those grey bubbles appeared at the bottom of the screen and Azriel made quick work to click out of the conversation. His heart should not have been stammering in his chest the way it was, he should not have felt so anxious about what you may think if he read your text as quickly as you read his. 

You: very good. And you were right. 7 joints! 

And then, another.

You: I may need a top up sooner than i thought, if that’s ok?

Azriel: what happened to it lasting you 2 weeks?? Nah, that’s fine. Did you wanna meet up tonight?

You: would that be ok?

Azriel: yes. Old tower in 20?

You: life saver <3 see u then!

He tried his damned hardest not to stare at the little heart you sent him, tried his best not to picture you thinking about texting him to meet up again. But all he tried, it didn’t work and a smirk began to tug at the corners of his mouth. 

//

His Ford Mustang parked outside the Old Tower fifteen minutes later, the engine still humming softly and his eyes flitted between the rearview mirror and his view in front of him, trying to gauge which way you’d come from. 

He didn’t expect for you to come out of the shadows in a third direction, one in the wake of the passengers side, and he didn’t realise until the door opened and you slid your body inside his car, shutting the door behind you. 

“Hi,” you turned to him with a beaming smile—eyes gently blazed with a moody pink hue. 

Azriel drank you in. Your hair was down today in what he presumed was your natural waves, face bare of makeup save for the sheen of pinky lip gloss that coated your mouth. You wore an oversized cropped olive cardigan; the large buttons done up just enough to offer a slither of a peek of the white bralette you wore beneath, and a pair of straight-legged black cargos. 

Gods, you looked even better than he remembered, but Azriel wasn’t naive to your staring either. Your eyes caught notice of his thick, muscled arms. They weren’t hidden beneath a jacket this time. No. They bulged from the black t-shirt he wore, and his brown skin was etched in intricate swirls and shapes and designs in black ink. 

You gulped, visibly so. Tattoos had always been an immediate attraction for you—not that Brandon ever had any—but the sight of Azriels and the one that hid beneath the sleeve of his top and curled up and around his neck… Gods, your throat felt extremely dry.

And Azriel noticed everything. 

“I thought you said you didn’t smoke much?” 

Your eyes finally snapped to his hazel ones and warmth coated your cheeks and chest. You cleared your throat, blinking a few times to regain some sense of composure. “I don’t,” you retorted. “Girls night. And it was my turn to host.” 

Azriel tried not to think too deeply into the idea of you having a night at home with your girlfriends, stoned and warm and cosy and all inhibitions thrown out the window. He wondered if those were the types of things you did with your friends. He’d been with a few before that did. 

He looked away as soon as he felt that familiar tightening in his jeans. “So, you want another 3.5?” He cleared his throat, lifting the compartment between your seats. 

You hummed, eyes following his movements. Your gaze lingered on his biceps for a moment, trailing down to the veins that protruded from his smooth skin. You didn’t know what was wrong with you. Oftentimes than not, you found yourself horny and riled up when under the influence, but never like this. Never so strongly at the sight of two veiny, tattooed arms. 

“Um, yeah… please.” You finally spoke. “I promise it’ll last me longer than three days this time.”

Azriel prayed to the fucking mother above that it didn’t. But he didn’t say anything. Instead, he retrieved a 3.5 baggie and handed it to you, closing the compartment again and the second he opened his mouth to speak, you were already grabbing a marred hand and shoving two twenty’s into it before forcing his fist closed. 

Perhaps it was the buzz of the joint you smoked on your way, or perhaps it was the pure arousal you felt at the sight of him and the feel of his hand in yours that gave you a surge of confidence. Whatever it was, it had you saying, “Pretty clients might get a discount from you, but incredibly attractive, tattooed plugs get full pay from me.”

Azriel was stunned for a moment, by both your boldness and the shameless compliment. His mouth blubbered open, a retort just as flirty as yours on the tip of his tongue when the sound of his ringtone blaring through the car’s bluetooth speaker cut him off. 

He disconnected the call a bit too quickly, an amused smile teetering on the curves of your already twisted lips. Azriel paid no mind to his own actions, instead turning back to you with a fire in his eyes that you couldn’t quite place. 

His lips parted in another attempt to speak when that gods-dammed phone interrupted him for a second time and you could no longer hold your laughter. Azriel decided there and then that the next time he saw you, he’d make sure he heard that sweetness again. 

You didn’t give him time to cut the call off again. Instead, you reached for the door handle and offered a grateful smile. “I’ll text you when I’m out.”

His senses were too on overdrive. Too torn between wanting to stop you, even if to spend a few more moments in your presence, and the deafening sound of his fucking phone. But you’d exited the car and closed the door behind you before he could do anything about it. The cash was still stuffed in his warm hands and the incoming call continued to make his ears bleed. 

“What?” Azriel seethed the second he answered the call. It was silent for a moment, the caller caught off guard by Az’s tone but that only pissed him off further. 

“It’s Brandon,” the line paused for a moment again. “You about?” 

Azriel felt his blood boil. “If I don’t fucking answer the first time, that usually means no.”

He disconnected the call without another word, marred hands now gripping the wheel until his knuckles turned white. He hated the way he was reacting over you—over being interrupted from your presence. But he couldn't help it. Couldn’t get the thought out of his head of how sweet your lips probably tasted with that gloss. And without it. 

Azriel’s chest heaved slightly, that all too familiar sense of arousal tightening in his pants. He couldn’t stand this, couldn't understand how a tiny slip of your bralette could have his mind and body reacting like this. How a subtle smirk and a sultry gaze could have him ready to blow a load in his pants. 

Christ, he needed to sort himself out. Absent-mindedly, Azriel snuck a hand between his thighs, large scarred hand palming at his length through the fabrics. His breathing turned quicker, his moments growing needier. If he didn’t sort himself out soon he’d been in agony. 

With one hand on the wheel, he forced himself to drive—only for a moment or two until his Mustang was parked idly between two buildings and switched off the engine to not draw too much attention to himself. 

He was above this—above getting himself off semi-publicly. But he couldn’t fucking help it. He didn’t care how shameful and icky he might’ve felt afterwards, not when he was so desperate. 

As soon as the car was covered in shadows of darkness, he unclasped his seatbelt and unpopped the buttons of his jeans. He didn’t bother to pull them down, only releasing the zip and reaching into his boxers to tug his length free. 

The second he felt his skin on him, he shuddered. His slender fingers wrapped around his thick shaft, offering himself a teasing squeeze as he slowly moved. Azriel didn’t need lube or lotion—not when pearly beads of semi-translucent arousal leaked from his pink, ruddy tip. He smoothed it down his length, mewling at the contact he rewarded himself. 

And all he could think about was you. 

Your eyes, your lips, your voice.

He let his mind wander to sinful images of what may lay hidden beneath your clothes—beneath that little white bralette. Azriel quickened his pace as his eyes fluttered closed, the back of his head hitting the headrest. He throbbed in his hand, a gruff moan tearing from his throat. 

Azriel could picture you clearly in his head; on your knees in the footwell, your dainty hands around his cock as your lips kissed and sucked him. His hand in your hair, bobbing you on his length, watching your eyes water from the size of him as he hit the back of your throat. 

His breathing grew ragged, filthy images of your choking on his cock filling his brain, clouding his sensing and coaxing a release out of him. Azriel didn’t think he’d ever come so quickly before in his life, but the idea of you looking up at him with sultry eyes through thick lashes had him spurting warm ribbons of cum into his hand as he cupped his head to minimise the mess. A desperate attempt to replicate what he imagined the warmth of your mouth would feel like. 

As his breathing began to even out, the post-nut clarity hit him like a ton of fucking bricks. Shame boiled in his blood, a tint of pink embarrassment painted on his cheeks as if the shadows judged him, too. The idea of seeing you again while knowing what he’d done to the thought of you… it made his insides churn slightly. 

But more than that, it made his cock leap again in anticipation of soon being in your presence once more. 

//

“Az, what do you say? Up for a double date?” 

Feyre couldn’t hide her smile, unable to keep her emotions in check when it came to her attempts to set Azriel up. But the instant disappearance of his smile wasn’t missed on her. Nor was the way his shoulders tensed slightly. 

He sighed. “Fey, as much as I appreciate your concern for my love life, I don’t need to be set up.”

She pouted at him. Despite that always being his answer, she still held a shred of hope every time she suggested it. Even if he never changed his mind, she was willing to continuously try, even if he did find it annoying. Even if she didn’t tell him until the very last minute. 

“Who’s the lucky girl then, Az?” Nesta piped up with a wide grin from her seat in the couch, tucked closely into Cassian’s side who paid no mind to the conversation at hand. 

He rolled his eyes at her. “There is no girl.” 

“Guy, then.” Nesta scoffed, waving a hand. 

Azriel didn’t want to entertain this conversation, especially not because it had somehow brought his mind back to you. Something he’d been so desperately trying to avoid. 

Though, he supposed it was inevitable. He would be seeing you again at some point and then he’d be stuck right back where he started. In all honesty, he wasn’t sure why he was doing this to himself— why he didn’t allow himself to pursue you if that was what he truly wanted. 

His phone chimed from his pocket. 

In hindsight, it was probably a good thing that Azriel didn’t hear from you for two weeks. It gave him ample time to attempt to get his hormones in check, but it didn’t stop his blood from warming everytime he received a notification. Each time, he was left with slight disappointment to find it was just another client. 

Until today. Until now. Where your name was in fact the one on his lockscreen and all of that forgetting and willing to get you out of his mind faltered. 

You: Hey, are you free later?

Azriel: I'm free all night.

When you didn’t respond, Azriel assumed you were looking for a more direct answer. So he sent another text. 

Azriel: old tower in an hour good for you?

You: see you then.

He couldn’t help the frown that furrowed in his brows at your reply. Given, your only communication was mainly through text, and perhaps he was looking too much into it, but you didn't seem yourself. And that thought shouldn’t have irked him as much as it did. 

He barely bid anyone a goodbye, throwing a mumbled ‘see you later’ as he grabbed his shit and left. 

His first stop was to Sean, a lean Asian guy that had been buying off Azriel for two years now. He was decent enough, never tried to haggle or complain about the prices. They shared a mutual respect and minimal words were shared when Az handed him a Q and Sean gave 140 in one swift motion. 

And just like that, Azirel moved onto the next.

And then another. 

And another. 

Until he was waiting at the Old Tower and watching your silhouette approach the Mustang. You entered the car just like you always had done, though you didn’t meet his gaze this time. Instead, you kept your line of view ahead. Your hair obstructed the side of your face, effectively shielding you from his prying eyes. 

“Sorry I’m a little late.” 

Azriel absolutely did not like the quake in your voice as you spoke, nor did he like the way you seemed to cower into your body and clothes. Clothes that didn’t seem to match your usual vibe—instead, the mismatched black sweatpants and bright pink puffer jacket gave off the impression you threw on whatever was around you. 

Somehow, Azriel still thought you made it look good. On you, the outfit looked both planned and effortless. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that that wasn’t the case. 

“You good?” he asked through the piercing silence. 

You hummed, twisting the bulky silver ring on your thumb. “Yeah, just tired.” You tried your hardest to offer a convincing smile as you turned to him, but Azriel noticed the way it didn’t meet your eyes—the eyes that appeared slightly bloodshot, though he had a suspicion it wasn’t from smoking.

Not wanting to press on the matter, Az opened the compartment and pulled out a baggie of your usual amount and kept it pinched between two scarred fingers. You reached for it, the cash in your other hand but he kept his grip tight. 

Azriel raised a brow. “You’re sure you’re alright?” 

You could see the concern flood his hazel eyes, and the sight pulled on your aching heartstrings. How could someone who was a virtual stranger care more for you than the ones who were much closer in your life?

You didn’t trust your words, so you nodded and he finally released his hold on the bag. “Alright,” Az sighed. “It’s a different strain than my usual stuff, so go a little lighter with it. It’s pretty strong.” 

You were incredibly thankful for the warning, though you couldn’t help feeling a little offended. Did he really think you were so naive and new to this world that you couldn’t handle a new strain at your usual strength (which, admittedly, was very weak) without greening out? 

But as quickly as that feeling rose, it faded. He was a dealer, afterall, and he couldn’t afford to lose business all because someone thought they knew better and had a bad trip. 

“Thank you,” you muttered out, already reaching for the handle when his ruggedly soft voice stopped you. 

“You wanna smoke before you go? I can drop you back after.” 

You whipped your head to him, blinking through slightly blurred vision. With a brow raised and widened eyes, your lips parted. “Together?”

A smile stretched across his full lips, one so full of charisma and keen interest that it awakened something deep in the pit of your stomach. Something you distinctly remember feeling the last time you saw him. 

“Why not?” 

You swallowed as your hand slowly fell from the handle and made its way back in your lap. Your smile morphed into a smirk that matched his and the air shifted into something unreadable. Something palpable but not quite real. 

“Really? Do you normally smoke with your clients?” 

Azriel’s wicked grin widened. “I do with the cute ones.” 

You choked on a laugh, rolling your head back until it hit the headrest and Azriel didn’t think he’d ever seen or heard anything so fucking beautiful in his life. That laugh would haunt him in his dreams to a blissful paradise. 

“First, I’m pretty. Now I’m cute… what’s next?” 

Damn the rules he set himself. Damn the restrictions he forced when it came to someone who piqued his interest. It was about time Azriel took what he wanted for once. Even if that meant he started with no longer feeling guilty for flirting with you. 

Chewing at the inside of his cheek, Azriel started up the engine and shifted the gearstick. “Guess you’ll have to wait and find out.” 

He tilted his head to the dashboard compartment and you pulled it open. The small warm white light lit the cove, a golden hue casting on a small yellow tin. Throwing a glance to Azriel, he nodded and you pulled it out, closing the compartment and popping open his travel tin. 

It was packed with perfectly rolled joints and blunts. The smell was strong—potent—but you didn’t mind. Not as much as you had before. You picked one random of the bunch and pinched it between two fingers. It was rolled tightly and packed full, a very small twist of paper at the end and you hummed, impressed. 

Of course he could roll perfectly. And you had a feeling just two pulls of one of those would keep you warm and fuzzy for the remainder of the night. 

“There’s a lighter in the cup holder.” Azriel spoke as he pulled out of the space and began to drive further out of the lights of the city. 

You pinched the lighter. Just a simple black one, no funky pattern or engraved initials like most others had. No, Azriel’s was one that came in a pack of five and the other four were somewhere in the car or back at his apartment. 

“We can smoke in here?” you asked softly, that crack in your voice easing. 

Az hummed, taking a right turn. “If you’re comfortable to.”

You waited a moment, eyeing the joint and then him. “You drive when you smoke?” 

He seemed to notice your somewhat apprehension when he nodded again. He turned to you briefly before flicking his eyes back on the road again. “I drive better when I’m stoned. But if you’d prefer, we can park up somewhere.” 

You shook your head, warmth caressing every inch of your body. You didn’t know what it was, but something had overcome you. An overwhelming sense of pure yearning. You could admit when you first met Az that he was attractive, incredibly so. But now? Watching him, speaking with him, smoking with him… oh God’s… you had a fucking crush on your plug. 

“You wanna start it or should I?” Azriel’s voice broke you from your epiphany and you blinked quickly, willing the rising heat to just fuck off and give you a moments reprive. 

“Oh,” you squeaked. “You can, it’s your weed.” 

He didn’t look away from the road, not for a second. With a hand on the wheel and the other shifting gears, he edged his head closer to yours and angled his face just slightly with his lips parted. You were stunned for a moment, realising what he was asking you to do, and you swallowed back that bubbling arousal as you placed the unlit joint to his lips and sparked up a flame, igniting the end.

Az hummed in thanks as he took a long, deep drag. You couldn’t take your eyes off him. He was a fucking sight. Cheeks ever so slightly hollowed and eyes barely squinted as the smoke filled his lungs. 

A scarred hand left the gearstick to reach for the joint, his thumb reaching for the bottom while his forefinger grazed the top and he pulled it away with another fresh intake of breath, settling the drug further. 

You were soaked, you were sure of it. Your previous problems from today were a distant memory as you finally watched him exhale and bring the joint to his lips again for another long pull. 

The sound of the windows opening broke you from your trance and only then did you realise you hadn’t yet put on your seatbelt. You tore your gaze away to clip yourself in and when you turned back, Azriel was offering you the joint. 

With your free hand, you accepted it, the other stuffing the cash in his cup holder with the lighter. You inspected the joint, tried not to let your heart race. You’d only ever smoked with your friends and Brandon. Never with a dealer. Never with someone like Azriel. 

You slotted your pursed lips over the same area Az did, and inhaled as deeply as you could. The burn at the back of your throat was stronger than when you smoked your own joints, and as it filled your lungs you pulled it away and held back a cough that gagged to release from your throat. 

With a shaky exhale, you swallowed around the dryness of your mouth before bringing it back to your lips for another drag. When you pulled it away, the burn wasn’t as bad and you passed it back to Azriel who took another turn on the roads. 

“Where are we going?” You pondered, a certain rasp to your voice from the strength of the joint. 

Azriel took two short pulls and angled the burning end out the window, flicking off the excess ash before offering it to you again. 

“Wherever you want,” he replied. “But first, we should probably get some food for when the munchies kick in.” 

You laughed as you exhaled another breath and handed the joint back to him, waving a hand to signal you were tapping out and did not intend on smoking anymore. Five pulls of that shit was more than enough for you. You could not handle the idea of greening out in his car with him. 

Azriel stifled a laugh and finished off the rest of the joint by the time he pulled into a drive-thru. He placed his order first, turning to you with flushed cheeks and hazy eyes. You blinked a few times, your brain requiring a few moments to catch up with what was happening. 

“I’ll have the same as you.” 

He stifled a laugh as he spoke into the machine, doubling up on his order and driving through to the next window. Azriel paid no mind to you when you attempted to offer him your money—barely even looked at you as he tapped his card against the reader and then reached for the cash in the cup holder, shoving it back in your empty palms. 

“You can keep that, too.”

You knew it wasn’t up for discussion, so you begrudgingly took your cash back and stuffed it into your jacket pocket again. Az stopped in the parking lot, the two of you eating through hushed yet uncontrollable giggles at the people that passed by. 

It was the first time you’d heard his laugh so unrestricted and it spread another shot of warmth through your body. It continued like that for another undisturbed hour, where after the food, Az sparked up another joint and began the drive to your apartment. You’d told him Old Tower was fine, but he wasn’t okay with that. 

“Too many freaks around at this time of night. I’ll drop you to your door. Put your address in the GPS.”

And it wasn’t until the drive back to your apartment that you were reminded of your previous troubles. The ones that caused your teary eyes and sombre mood. The buzz off the night felt like it had dwindled away the second you thought of your situation, and you were left slumped in your seat again, fiddling with your fingers. 

Azriel noticed your change in mood almost immediately as he glanced over to you before flicking his eyes back to the road. He took another drag of the joint. 

“Do you want to talk about it?”

You pondered his offer for a few moments, weighing out whether or not you should. In the end, what difference would it make? If you divulge your issues or not, it wouldn’t fix them. But perhaps talking about it might help. 

“My sister got married yesterday and no one told me.”

Azriel blinked rapidly, almost spluttering on the breath he exhaled. “What?” 

“Yeah.” 

He waited patiently, eager for some sort of explanation as to how and why something like that was kept from you. But he didn’t know the relationship with your family, he couldn’t presume anything. For all he knew, you had troubles just like his. 

“My family and I didn’t have the best relationship growing up. I was born from a toxic relationship so I was cast aside as a kid, I guess. I thought we were past that, though. I thought things were better.”

That familiar ache sat heavy in Azriel’s chest. He knew all too well the hurt that came from being shunned by your own family. He wouldn’t wish that upon anyone. Especially not somebody like you. 

“I’m sorry.” His words held such compassion and sympathy. No pity, just pure understanding. 

You blinked back the tears, not wanting to show just how much it had all affected you. But it was no use. A single drop slipped down your cheek and as quickly as it fell, you wiped it away. 

You were agitated now, extremely so. “I didn’t even know she had a boyfriend, Az.”

“Why would they do that?”

There was a pause. And then, “because her now husband was my first everything.” 

You waited for the statement to settle into the thick night air. Your first kiss, first boyfriend, first time. First love. Azriel could understand even more now just how much it hurt you. And the fact they kept it a secret? Even your family knew what they did was wrong. 

“I’m so sorry, that’s truly fucked. But you know, families suck sometimes. I only speak to my mom.”

“Oh?” You hadn’t realised you were even on your street until he parked right outside your apartment and flicked on his hazards. 

Azriel flicked the but of the smoke out the window and held out his hands, showcasing the marred flesh and patchy skin. “My half brothers did this to me when I was eight. They didn’t like that our mom had me with another man before she had them. They said that my bastard blood tainted the family, so they wanted to taint me.” 

Azriel had absolutely no fucking idea why he was divulging such an intimate and traumatic part of himself. But he made no attempt to hide or sugarcoat any of the truth. Especially not when he looked up from his hands and caught sight of your face. 

Salty tears silvered the linings of your eyes at the truth of what had happened to him. Bile crept up your throat and hatred for his family formed. Eight years old. You felt sick. 

“Az… I’m so sorry. That’s… I can’t even…”

But Azriel waved it off with a gentle smile. “It’s awful, sure. But I’m fine. I wouldn’t have met Cass and Rhys if that didn’t happen. They may be my found family, but they’re my brothers. Blood doesn't mean shit to me.

A single tear slipped down your warm cheek, staining the skin in its wake. Azriel reached out to wipe it away, his touch gentle and soft and yet all-consuming. Your gaze met in a flickering glance of hazy eyes and fluttering lashes. 

And then next thing you knew, your lips were on his. 

Azriel was quick to kiss you back; moulding his plump lips around yours as his large palms cupped the sides of your face. He was sweet on your mouth, a hint of salt from his fries and he swiped his tongue across the seam of your lips, you almost imploded. 

Azriel was no better. The second he got a taste, he was a starved man. Your tongues met in needy strokes and Az had never tasted anything like you before. Sweet like the watermelon lip gloss you wore, and a tang of smoke that haunted your mouth. 

He was hooked, desperately fucking hooked. Your own hands reached up to hold his wrists in hopes of keeping his touch on you. Azriel kissed you deeper, licking across your teeth before settling even deeper in your mouth. 

It was needy and messy and every unspoken word of desire was poured into that kiss, your touch. He could stay like that forever, kissing you, tasting you. Azriel could feel himself stretching in his pants, and from the almost inaudible whimper that strained from the back of your throat, he was certain you were just as needy between your own thighs. 

The thought spurred him on, as it did you. Your hands trailed down his forearms to his biceps, feeling at the muscle that tensed beneath your touch, until your arms were wrapping around his neck and he was pulling you closer over the centre console. 

Azriel kept a palm caressing your jaw while the other snaked to the side of your neck, his long fingers weaving through the hair at your nape and blunt fingernails scratching at your scalp. 

In your drug and lust filled haze, Azriel was shifting in his seat. You let one arm leave his body to reach for your seatbelt, planning to unbuckle it and crawl into his lap for a deeper, richer taste of him. 

But the second the safety belt was released, the blaring sound of an incoming call through the car's speaker jolted you both apart. It was then, and only then, that the gravity of the situation finally sunk in. 

His eyes were glazed over with something you’d never seen on him before, his lips even plumper and smeared with your gloss. You didn’t look much better. Only your eyes were wider than his and your hair had been a lot more dishevelled. 

Your chest heaved as you tried to catch your breath, the insistent ringing of his phone jarring your eardrums. For the fourth time tonight, warmth settled over you again but in the form of embarrassment. He confided in you about a trauma so deep, and you’d kissed him. 

“I’m sorry,” you apologised breathlessly. 

Too caught up in your own fear and anxiety of what you’d done, you missed the way Azriel’s brows furrowed. His confusion quickly turned into panic when the thought settled in that perhaps you had regretted it. That even though you kissed him, perhaps you felt he had pressured you. 

And that made him sick to his stomach. 

Before Azriel could utter a single word, your hand was on the door handle and you were pushing it open. “I’m sorry, I should go.” 

You climbed out of the car as you uttered another apology, and slapped the door shut without so much as offering him another glance. The incoming call died to voicemail but Az couldn’t take his eyes off your empty seat, couldn’t get the taste of you off his tongue, the feel of your lips off his. 

Frustration grew at himself. Azriel turned forward in his seat, nostrils flared and teeth grit. He’d fucked it. He’d gone and fucked it entirely. His open palm smacked against the wheel before gripping it tightly, taking a moment to compose himself. 

He looked over at your seat again. 

Despite the lack of your physical presence, you were still there. In scent and touch and taste. 

Azriel was fucking done for. 

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[sweetiecutie]

🖤Fuck or Die part 2🖤

Part 1

Pairing: slasher! König x fem! Reader

Warnings: Dead Dove Do Not Eat, mdni, smut, non con so rape, violence, obsession, drugging, face-slapping and nose bleeding, choking, kidnapping, mention of murder. If you feel triggered by any of these warnings - just scroll past!

A/n: this took me way longer than I expected but yay, I finally wrote the second part!!! Also absolutely not me incorporating a quote from the movie bc I think it’s impossibly hot🤭

Reading part 1 is recommended for understanding the plot

Your life will never be the same. That damned evening changed you, everything around you, splitting your life into before and after.

Your memories of next few days after the murder were a sheer blur of events and conversations - numerous interrogations with police officers and detectives, psychologists trying to soothe you out of your stupor still, your mother crying her eyes out at the sight of you right after police arrived at the place of Paul’s death. And, of course, nasty journalists trailing behind you, watching your every move, invading your personal space unapologetically.

Of course, you were quite a catch - the first and only one who ever survived a meeting with König. Everyone wanted to know what he looked like - any particular details, scars or tattoos, a fucking skin colour - anything you could remember would be of huge use, giving at least any clues to a dead unmoving case. But there was very little you could help with - König took great care of covering every centimetre of his skin in black clothing, his voice changed, he smelled of nothing but earth and sickening metal of your boyfriend’s blood. Bastard was even smart enough to not cum inside nor anywhere actually, so that police couldn’t get his DNA samples.

A few months had passed since that horrific attack and there were still no traces of König.

It was midday when your parents had to leave to attend your grandma’s birthday - your mother was reluctant, not wanting to leave you all alone. You were never alone actually - a few police cars always patrolled right outside of your house, not allowing even postmen to get too close to your family’s property. It took a lot of reassuring and encouragement from your side to get your mother off your back, convincing her that you’ll be just fine by yourself and that you want your parents to have some fun. She then gave up with a deep sight, promising to be back in only a few hour’s matter.

You heaved a heavy sigh, closing and locking the front door after waving your parents goodbye, heading to the kitchen to grab yourself a drink. A pile of dirty dishes stacked in a sink caught your eye, the sight of its ugly mess on otherwise clean and tidy kitchen caused an itch somewhere deep in your brain. Without second thought you rolled up your sleeves, pouring dish soap onto the sponge and foaming it up.

As you were halfway through the dishes loud trilling of your landline phone calling startled you, causing you to jump on your spot. Your head whipped around, looking into direction from which the sound came. Wiping your wet hands on the kitchen towel you grabbed the phone, tucking it in between your ear and shoulder after accepting the incoming call.

- Hello? - you said, coming back to the sink, swiping foamy sponge over another plate, cleaning it of any grease and leftover bits of food.

- Hello! Um, can I speak to Paul? - your movements halted abruptly. You stood there silently for a long while, muscles stiff and unmoving, eyes staring blankly at some invisible point in the space before you.

- Excuse me, are you still here? Do I have the wrong number? - the man on the other end of the line said, his voice sounding concerned. It seemed to bring you out of your stupor as you drew in a long breath, exhaling noisily.

- Um, can I ask you how you got this number? - you said, already sensing something weird about this whole situation. But cops were all around your place, there was nothing to be worried about, right?

- Paul gave it to me himself. Said to call here if I needed to reach out to him, - man explained. That was strange but not unexplainable - Paul often hang out at your house, you wouldn’t be surprised if he knew your home phone number better than his own. - So am I calling right?

- Oh, yeah, sorry it’s just… Paul’s dead, - you said, teeth sinking into the inside of your cheek, sweet metallic taste coating your buds, but you couldn’t care less, nibbling deeper into small wound, feeling of slight pain grounding you successfully.

- Oh god, what happened? I’m so sorry, I didn’t know. But who am I speaking to then? - the man said, his voice now sounding genuine and apologetic. Everyone around Y/n suddenly sounded genuinely and apologetic. She heaved another sigh, resuming her scrubbing on the plates.

- He was murdered. And I’m his girlfriend, - you said in a calm tone, free of any emotion or feeling. Paul’s death was pretty much the only thing you talked about with others - police, detectives, police again, his parents and friends, your parents and friends. It seemed like such a sensitive topic turned into a rough callous way too quickly. - Well, I was his girlfriend, - Y/n mumbled after a short pause, faint clatter of porcelain audible in the background.

- Sorry about your boyfriend, - man on the line said. There was a brief moment before he added: - all those muscles didn’t help much, did they?

You froze. Silence settled in, interrupted only by occasional electric noise humming through the speaker. You heard your own pulse humping rapidly in your ears, your breathing fast and shallow, all muscles in your body tensing in alarm, straightening your back. Your eyes shoot up, looking out of the window above the sink. There were a few trees growing shallowly - barely an orchard - separating your house from your neighbours. No one was there.

- What’s that, sweet girl? You can’t see me? - a voice taunted, erupting herds of goosebumps running down your spine. - What a shame, I can see you clear as day.

- Neighbourhood is packed full with cops, you sick son of a bitch. If you only fucking dare coming anywhere close to my ho-

- Now-now, Y/n, - slasher interrupted you unapologetically, his voice hard and cold, causing thin hairs on your arms to rise. - Control your fucking language when you speak to me.

Your eyes dropped down onto the sink, fluffy dish soap foam was sparkling, playing with all the rainbow colors under the sun rays pouring in through the window. You clasped the phone in your non dominant hand, your dominant one reaching out and grabbing a kitchen knife from the drying rack, handle still wet and a bit slippery in your grasp.

- My, my, a dangerous thing that you’re holding. Be careful and don’t cut yourself, dearie, - König taunted, making your teeth clench. All blood drained out of your face, making you as pale as paper. Your eyes were fixated upon your window, peering into the orchard, desperately trying to spot any movement.

- What are you planning on doing? Everyone will hear if I scream. And cops will get your ass into prison, right where it belongs, - you spat out, pushing off the counter; your eyes ran all around the kitchen, looking for your cell phone with detective’s number saved, trying to keep the current call going so it’ll be possible to track it down.

- Oh will they? Then you better not scream, silly, - König snorted, making your blood boil. You were frightened still, terrified even; but the remorse of what he did to you, to Paul, was fuelling into your spite, making you a tad bit braver.

Failing to find your phone you entered the living room, rummaging through cushions and blankets piled on the couch, failing to find the stupid thing.

- Looks like you lost something. What’s up sweetheart? - you threw soft cushion back on the couch violently, huffing in annoyance upon not finding what you were looking for. You straightened and turned around to head to your bedroom, stoping in the middle of your tracks, freezing to the spot.

In the doorway leading to the hall stood König - dressed in all black, with heavy leather boots and his huge dagger strapped firmly to his thigh with a sheath, white scream mask staring right back at you. One large hand was pressing the phone to his ear, the other one was holding up your cellphone - the exact one you were looking for.

- You looking for this? - he asked, his own voice reverberating on the line because of your proximity.

You threw the phone to the side clutching onto the knife tightly. You dashed to the kitchen - there was a back door you could slip through - and outside was filled with neighbours and cops. Just pathetic six or so meters. Just a bit…

A scream tearing through your throat was muffled by a huge hand clamping against your mouth, the other one squeezing your wrist so tightly that for a fleeting moment you thought your bones were snapped, causing your grip on the knife to loosen, it falling down on the floor with loud clatter. König kicked the knife away across the kitchen, folding your arm back which caused your back to arch in pain - it felt as if he wanted to tear your limb from the rest of your body.

- Where do you think you’re going, Y/n? - König growled next to your ear, picking you up effortlessly and dragging your kicking form back to the living room.

Hauling you onto the floor König hooked one meaty thigh over your squirming body, putting bigger part on his weight down onto you, momentarily halting all of your struggle. One huge hand took ahold of both your wrists, pinning them to the floor above your head with frightening ease, his other hand was clasping your mouth still. He crouched down, scream mask was mere fifteen centimetres afar from your face as he seethed:

- Now you shut the fuck up and listen closely to what I have to say, and no one will get hurt, you get that? - he said, waiting until you gave him any sing of agreement. But you offered none. - You get that?! - König growled impatiently, bumping your head against the hardwood floor, causing black spots dance in the corners of your eyes for a long minute. You gave a weak nod, feeling hot tears running down your temples, getting lost among your hair.

- I’ve been thinking about you. A lot, - König sighed, hand that was on your face squished your cheeks together painfully, making your lips pucker out. - About this gorgeous mouth and pretty lips…

König crouched down, barely leaving a few centimetres between your faces.

- A this tight little cunt of yours. Remember how you clenched around me? How good my cock was filling you up?

- What do you want from me? - you weeped quietly, voice barely audible, broken by faint sobs and hiccups.

- Very little, dove. Just be an obedient girl and do as you’re told and no one will get hurt, - König tutted, taking in the sight of your crying face. Gosh, he was a sick fuck - his cock was already getting painfully hard, straining against his pants.

Letting go of your face König reached behind his back, withdrawing something from the rear pocket of his jeans. Just as you opened your mouth to cry out for help he shoved that thing inside of your cavity, slapping a hand over your lips so you won’t spit it out. The thing momentarily dissolved on your tongue, leaving a bitter aftertaste; you tried to struggle against killer’s strong hold, thrashing violently, but it led you nowhere.

Suddenly you felt hot - as if you had a really bad fever. Your mind clouding up rapidly, thoughts muddling, muscles becoming weaker by the second. You huffed out in frustration; moving your limbs a few centimetres seemed like impossible labour. World was spinning around you, blurring sharp and distinguishable features of König’s mask into a white haze.

König let go of your face once again, his now free hand slid down your body, cupping your sex through numerous layers of clothing separating you two. Sudden pleasure surged through your weakened body upon the contact; a loud moan that rolled off your tongue startled you - and suddenly you realised just how aroused you felt.

- Jeez, that dude didn’t lie about this shit, - König laughed out excitedly, watching your eyes widen in terror. You could barely move by now, not speaking of trying to fight off a man twice your size. His size. In a blur of all events, words and pain you never came back to just how fucking huge he was. You never mentioned that in any of your interrogations. How fucking stupid, huh?

Killer let go of your wrists cautiously, watching you closely - you rose your hands, resting your palms on his chest and pushing with all the might you had left, but it wasn’t enough to even push a cat off the chair - so that was the limit of your strength in this state?

König barked out another laugh - he was going to have so much fun with you! His hand never stopped massaging your crotch, noting a small wet patch forming on your shorts - you were soaked through your panties and now soaking your shorts? Gosh, he better buy a few dozens of these aids. Psycho’s eyes shot up to your face upon hearing a sob - tears ran down your eyes like small diamonds, turning your eyelids a pretty shade of red. König shifted forth so that his mask was almost touching your nose:

- Oh baby, I’ll be much gentler with you this time, I promise, - König cooed, pressing cold plastic of his mask against your flushed wet cheek, as if giving you a comforting peck.

Slasher shifted a bit, changing his position from sitting on your thighs to being in between them, yanking you towards him by your knees. He did quick job of taking your shorts and underwear off in few fluid moves, impatiently discarding them somewhere to the side. König felt his heavy cock twitch inside his jeans at the sight of your puffy cunny, all shiny from slick that practically oozed out of your fluttering hole. He swallowed hard, saliva was practically pooling in his mouth, having to restrain himself from tearing his mask off and devouring your cunt, exposing his face too early. You whined out something unintelligible, still trying to pry his fingers off one of your knees.

Your skin felt hot even through thick fabric of his gloves, so when König took one off and plunged two of his thick fingers inside of your tight hole he was surprised at how hot it was inside of you - one of the drug’s effects, he guessed. You couldn’t help but mewl at the pleasant feeling, your brain barely functioning, controlling yourself was beyond hard.

- That’s it, sweetness. Lemme hear all the pretty sounds you make, - König encouraged, plunging his fingers in and out of you, increasing the pace. Rough thumb coming to circle your slicked clit, causing your whole body to jolt softly. Scent of your pooling arousal was strong and prominent, seeping even through König’s mask, making him throb in his pants.

He couldn’t wait any longer. König was dreaming about your pussy being spread around his cock since that first night, he needed to be inside or else he’ll lose the remnants of his mind. Slasher slipped his fingers out of you, quickly undoing his pants, sliding them down as much as knife holster on his thigh would allow. Your breathing increased as you tried to close your legs, man’s bulky form making it impossible for you to do so.

- No, no please.. not again, - you begged, tears rushing down your temples, your voice meek and barely audible, so König just ignored it.

Pulling his girthy cock out König pumped it a few times with gloved hand, aligning pink swollen tip with your leaking entrance. It one smooth movement he bottomed out half of his impressive length, your body - flushed and pliant - taking him inside without any resistance. Low groan rumbled through his broad chest; König’s head fell backwards, hands gripping soft fat of your thighs, leaving pale marks of his fingertips on your skin.

You hated every second of it. Hated how his hips collided with yours with every thrust, how you felt him throb and twitch inside of you; hated how his hands wandered up and down your sides, rubbing your waist and palming your tits. And you hated how fucking good it felt. Hated how your body, despite all your attempts to resist, to fight off the effects of the drug, gave into the pleasure.

- That’s it baby. Just take what I give you, - König breathed out, his words slurred with pleasure. - See? See how good it can feel when you shut the fuck up and do what I tell you to? Just be a obedient little girl and feel good, I’ll take care of everything else yeah?

It felt as if a ball of bile got stuck in your throat; your face scrunched up in disgust as much as your jelly muscles allowed it:

- Fuck you, - you barely managed to choke out, your tongue struggling to form right sounds.

For a few moments you were sure König didn’t hear you, given the lack of any reaction nor acknowledgement of your words. But the next thing you knew was searing pain in your left cheek, the impact of man’s wide palm with your face jolted your head to the side, sudden change of its position made you felt dizzy. Now world was spinning around you even more so, you felt something warm trickling down your cheek - blood from your nose, you figured. Killer’s fingers roughly gripped your chin, yanking it back so that you were facing him once again.

- You wanna say that again bitch? Come on, I fucking dare you, - he spat out, movements of his hips halting completely, leaving his cock buried deep inside of your rippling warmth.

Your head shifting so harshly once again made you nauseous; you could barely see anything, dark purple circles were dancing all around, changing their shapes and giving way to greens and yellows to flood your vision.

- That’s what I fucking thought, - König gritted out. His hand let go of your chin, coming lower to wrap strong fingers around your neck. His hips started working with even more vigour, forcing his dick in and out of your drugged cunt on the pace that was almost inhuman.

Firm clasp of maniac’s hand around your neck made it nearly impossible to breathe. Both your hands wrapped around his mighty wrist, too weak to actually get him off you. Your vision started to darken rapidly, white noise trilling in your ears, barely allowing any other sounds to filter through.

- From the very moment I laid my eyes on you I fucking owned you. And I own you right now, and forever will. This is my fucking cunt, and I’ll use it whenever I want to. And I need you to fucking. learn. it. - König growled out, emphasising each of his last words with hard deep thrusts of his hips against yours, his cock making your stomach bulge, surely bruising your cervix.

- Oh but I’ll train you. Mould you into my personal cocksleeve, ready to be used whenever I feel like it, - his pace was quickening, thick cotton of his denim pants muffled filthy sounds of his mighty hips snapping against your ass. The grip of strong fingers never eased; König shifted part of his weight onto his hands which were wrapped around your neck, white mask hovering right in front of your face - milky white of it was a harsh contrast to blackness pooling in the corners of your eyes.

With that your conscience started to slip away. You felt your body jolt with every ferocious thrust of man’s hips, his cock buried deep inside of you, bruising your insides with its persistent bullying. Acute lack of oxygen burnt your lungs, and you prayed to all gods that König held your neck a tad bit too long - just enough for you to not wake up the next time. And just before you slipped into heavy delirium, your mushed up brain picked up König’s growl, penetrating through thick noise humming in your ears:

- You’re mine. Forever and ever.

Street was filled with all kinds of noise - sirens from police cars were going off triggering dogs from nearby houses, neighbours were crowding a bit afar, frowning and shaking their heads, everyone having their own theory of what happened. Loud cries of Y/n’s mother shook the air, putting everyone further on the edge. She is such a sweet girl, she’s never done anything bad! Oh god, why is this happening to her of all people?!

Some people were saying that the girl simply snapped, breaking under the pressure of events and finally fleeting the country without telling anyone to not give any clues about her whereabouts to the killer. Some said she just went out to unwind from being constantly watched by police and have some alone time - she’ll show up anytime soon. But everyone knew that it was one of murderer’s deeds - he did something to her. And everyone knew, deep down, that they’ll never see Y/n again - alive, at least.

A young lanky policemen, obviously green and not experienced in his job, was babbling out his report to the superior, all the other cops that were patrolling with him as well stood around silently, too scared to pipe in.

- Sir, I swear we were patrolling the area all this time, there was literally no one but the neighbours, but they were staying at their pro-

- Then you were not doing it well enough! - city commissioner barked out, his mighty vice silencing everyone around for a short moment. His face was red, fuming with rage; nostrils flaring with intensity of his heavy breathing, angry vein popped up on his temple, pulsating in tandem with his rapid heartbeat. His heavy gaze shifted between all the poor officers, their faces pale as chalk.

- You had one fucking job. ONE fucking job - to keep the girl in the sightline - and where is she now, huh? I’m asking you motherfuckers - where is Y/n?! - Mr. Lindner barked out, his heavy voice making everyone jolt. Younger officers stared down on their shoes blankly, not daring to meet eyes with their boss.

- You may consider yourselves lucky if you’ll still have your licences by the end of the week, - commissioner Lindner tsked, spitting onto the ground in remorse. Turning around, he headed to his police issued car, shouldering all those nosy ones who were brave enough to approach him in this state. Getting inside Mr. Lindner closed the door with a loud bang, starting the engine and pulling out of the driveway onto the main road.

Commissioner Lindner drove in full silence, blue eyes fixated on the road ahead; it was barely past midnight, but the darkness hung thick all around, being slit by two yellow rays of his car’s headlights. He gripped steering wheel tighter, one hand coming to comb back his grown out hair out of his eyes, a small smile played in the corners of his scarred lips.

Soon he’ll be home - maybe the effects of drugs will wear off by that time and he’ll watch Y/n wake up slowly, those pretty doe eyes of hers gazing up at him drowsily. He will cook her dinner - all of her favourites - and maybe even spoon feed her, if she’ll allow it. Then he’ll bathe her and tuck her in her new bed, locking up the door for the night and watching her sleep through the cameras.

Everything was going as smoothly as ever. No one has accidentally seen him dragging unconscious Y/n out of her house and hauling her into the backseat of his car. No signs of struggle or fight were found - kitchen sink was still half-filled with soapy water and dirty dishes, clean ones drying off on the countertop, a knife with all the fingerprints being drowned among other dirty utensils. Y/n’s parents approved that everything was on its original place - as if the girl just disappeared, dissolved into thin air.

No one suspected a thing. And, of course, no one suspected a respectable city commissioner Lindner with years upon years of experience, a veteran with impeccable reputation, a person no one could speak badly of.

This was the beginning of your new life, life in which everything revolved around König, causing you to cling onto him as if he was some kind of goddess. Life in which you no longer belonged to yourself, but to your abductor. Life in which you finally understood that you don’t need anyone or anything else because you had König, understood that König was your life itself <3

Slasher! König Masterlist

A/n: I apologise for giving König a half assed name, but I thought it’d be really cool for the plot😌

Once again, feedback is highly appreciated! I’m making this a series so feel free to send in your suggestions for more slasher! König content<3

[darlingbabyboo]

Could you please make a part 3 of tr x bimbo reader with Hanma, Souya and chifuyu, please?? Have a great day or night <333

Note: I love this request! I thought ppl wouldn't like bimbo reader and I'm so happy that ppl are receiving it well :) These are such good characters too. I added a few people since I got to this late (also Hanma's is a little nsfw). Part 1 (Draken, Takemichi, Mitsuya, Baji, Smiley, Mucho) Part 2 (Kazutora, Izana, Bonten! Mikey)

"You're my angelic slut!"

♡ Even more Tokyo Revengers and their bimbo gfs ♡

Hanma Shuji

Oh my god I thought Smiley would be bad but this man would be a menace with a bimbo!gf

He lies to you on a daily basis bcs he knows that you'll believe him

He will be saying shit like 'recent studies show 🤓☝️' completely out of his ass bcs he loves the look you give him

Your bright eyes look to him, captivated with all the lies that he's feeding you

He thinks that your stupidity is hot af and the stupider you get the harder he is

Do not trust this man to help you shop bcs he will be giving you some floss as a top and and lacey underwear bottoms okay

And for my ladies who are bimbos but still like to cover up don't worry he'll give you the flashiest shit ever that probably says property of Hanma on the back

He loves you okay but be wary around this boy

"Ow babe, you know that hurts."

You eyes widen in horror, ripping your hands away from tracing the ink on his hands, "really?" You whisper.

He nods, sagely with his fake wisdom, "yeah, every few months the pain from tattoo comes back, when you touch me it hurts like a bitch."

"Oh, I- baby I didn't know!" You tear up, hating the thought of hurting Shu in any way possible, "I swear I didn't mean to hurt you!"

He nods, pulling you into his chest to calm your sniffles, "it's okay babe, you didn't know." He pretends to think, "and there might be a way to help me..."

You look at him, wide eyes looking to him and nod eagerly.

"Well... kisses always work."

"And it won't cause you pain?"

"None at all pretty girl."

"Okay!" You smile, peppering kisses on his hands, before cupping his face and pressing your lips against. He deepens the kiss, moving you so you're straddling his lap and grinding against his growing bulge.

He sure got lucky with you, huh?

Chifuyu Matsuno

He's so flustered at the sight of you

He's pretty confident in himself but he never actually expected to get a gf

Since you're his first one he kinda has no idea what to do with you

He rly doesn't want to mess things up

He doesn't even register the fact that you're 'slutty' bcs all he knows is that you're the hottest person that he's ever met in his life and he has absolutely no idea how to function without you

He worries so much but he's such a 10/10 boyfriend

Gets most of his ideas from manga but they usually get messed up because you would not get a clue if it walked up to you and gave you its number

Chifuyu will say something like, 'my heart is forever yours' and you're about call an ambulance bcs you think he's having a heart attack

Pray for him he's doing his best 🙏🏾

Certified good boi so he does his best to make you smarter but my mans is not God

He knows that you're a lost cause but he's gonna keep trying fr bcs he loves you

But he has a tendency to get distracted...

"And if 4 plus 4 is 8 and 4 times 4 is 16 then 4 squared is..." He watches you bite your lip and turn your wide eyes to him, hoping that he'll fill in the blanks.

He sighs, "baby, you're not gonna learn anything if I keep helping you."

"But 'fuyu!" You protest, throwing yourself across his lap, and jutting your lip out, "I don't get it without you explaining it for me!"

"That's the problem..."

Your pout deepens and you suddenly sit up straight. He blushes when you place your hands on the side of his face.

"I don't get it 'fuyu, more kisses pls."

He should refuse because he loves you more than the world itself but he knows that you're jackshit at math. His eyes look down at your puckered lips and he folds, moving you gently and pinning you to the bed.

When the both of you lock lips he knows nothing is going to get done today.

Souya (Angry) Kawata

We got another flustered boy here

It's made even worse bcs he was not the one who confessed to you

Smiley told you bcs he got sick of his constant ranting about how beautiful and kind and pretty you were

Angry hates his brother and loves him for it bcs you embraced him in a hug that got him feeling high for days

He worships you completely

Your slutty outfits

Perfect queen 🥰🥰🥰

He making homemade food for you for breakfast lunch and dinner

Compliments you all the time bcs that's what you deserve

Can you tell I have a favourite

He is in love with you so much and will not tolerate any sort of slander towards you

You best hope that someone doesn't call you stupid bcs they will be jumped by the entire fourth division he is not fucking around when it comes to you

He doesn't even take that shit when it comes to his brother

No one will talk bad about you under his watch

"Damn, your girl dumb as hell."

He looks to you. As of now, you're jumping up into the trees, attempting to catch a cat that got stuck up there from yesterday's storm. It's a noble attempt, if not a bit ruined due to the fact that you're ignoring the ladder of branches at the side of the tree that would help you get to the cat.

That wouldn't even be so bad if you weren't also neglecting to ask one of the neighbor's for a ladder, especially the one who has a ladder leaning against their front door.

He turns back to Smiley, scowling at the insult, "don't talk about her like that." Hands curling into fists, no matter what you do he can't stand the thought of you being disrespected.

Smiley holds his hand up, not in the mood to get his faced bashed, "fine... but you should really go help her."

He looks back to you, seeing that you've now started to meow to the cat, trying to convince it to come down by itself.

He can't stop the smile creeping up.

He's so in love with you.

Ran Haitani

You would assume that he'd be a menace but he's surprisingly sweet

Most people assume that he's with you bcs he wanted some arm candy but he's really just in love with you

Rindou is the unfortunate witness to how obsessed Ran is about you

When Ran sees you're being a dumbass all he does is smile and do his best to answer the question

He loves when his girl starts asking him how he can tell if it's AM or PM

He thinks you're too adorable

His love is not an act okay

He lives sleeps and breathes you

Half the words out of his mouth have to do with you bcs he thinks you're just so amazing

Rindou stops himself from screaming when he sees Ran leaning against the kitchen counter. The last time he caught Ran awake in the middle of the night the other had almost skinned him alive.

A Ran that just woke up from a nap was not a good Ran.

He relaxes when he sees you move to Ran's side, offering him some hot chocolate. Ran would never expose you to his violent side. "Thank you angel," He says as he accepts the drink, taking a sip and placing his arm around your waist.

"Ran..." You start, and Rindou can't wait for whatever bullshit you're going to spew this time.

"Yeah angel?"

"Why does your tattoo keep changing?"

He raises an eyebrow and looks down at his arm. Experimentally, he flexes it.

"It happened again!" You exclaim as his muscles tense, art rippling with the muscle.

Rindou has no idea how he deals with you sometimes. You're sweet, you're just... something else.

Ran doesn't react to the strange question, only offering a half-hearted shrug. He runs a hand through his hair, "I think it's because my skin stretches as I flex or something... and the tattoo is on my skin so it's affected too." He watches you, wondering if the answer is satisfactory.

You beam at the response and curl into him, placing your head on his shoulder. He presses a soft kiss to the crown of your head.

Rindou slinks back upstairs and tries not to throw up. He hates being around you two.

Hakkai Shiba

It's a miracle how Hakkai even started to talk to you

It was a struggle for everyone involved

Everyday Yuzuha and Mitsuya were considering jumping off a window more and more bcs every interactions you had went like this

'How are you Hakkai!'

'...'

'That's nice to hear! My day went well too, are you going to the festival tomorrow?'

'...'

Bitch is like this on the outside 😐

On the inside he's 🥰😍😘💕💓❤️

And Mitsuya and Yuzuha have to listen on like 🙃

Yeah Hakkai she is beautiful and her dress was rly nice today and she's the kindest girl in the world why don't you tell her that

His confession was so awkward but my man's had to do smth bcs he's not the only one who wants you

"H-hey," He calls your name, wincing when you direct your eyes to him. His stomach twists, he needs to do this he needs to do this.

You beam at him, "Hakkai! What's up? You don't usually talk to me like this."

Yeah, he doesn't. He's completely out of his comfort zone here. He really should have asked Taka-chan to be here to support him. He looks down to avoid making eye contact but is met with your plump thighs.

He swallows.

"A-are you going to the f-festival with Akihiko?"

You tilt your head, "no, why would you think that? Me and him are just friends!"

Akihiko has not been subtle about about talking about how attractive he's found you and how much he would love to have you as your girlfriend. This includes wrapping his arms around your waist and calling you 'wifey'.

"He flirts sometimes," You laugh, "but we're just friends."

Sure, and he just wants to kill him.

"Wouldyouliketogowithme?" He blurts out, flinching when everything is out. He watches your eyes open wide, mouth falling open. He's so embarrassed, of course this wouldn't work he should have kept his mouth shut-

"Of course I wanna go Hakkai!" He catches you as you jump up to wrap your arms around his neck. His face turns even redder when you smack a kiss on his cheek. "I'd love to!"

"C-cool." He says knowing that the this moment will be replaying in his head on the walk home.

Seishu (Inupi) Inui

Y'all are complete opposites bcs while he's off being brooding you're being your bright and sunny self giving a hug to anyone who asks

Koko wonders everyday how you two started dating but love is love

You two have the best fashion tips for each other, truly a couple that uplifts each other <333

My man treats you like you're not the dumbest bitch on Planet Earth

Inui is a feminist (when he threatened Yuzuha he did that for the women's rights movement okay)

So he knows that you have great value even if you're not smart in a conventional sense

He will pound anyone into the pavement if someone starts to act a fool okay

Inui brings knives to fist fights if you don't think he'll pull out a glock for the person he's completely obsessed with you're insane

"Inui, how do we know that we're on Earth?" You question, head tilting to the side, looking to him waiting for an answer.

He doesn't sigh, he knows you're genuine about this and he would hate to embarrass you. He raises an eyebrow for clarification.

"I mean- how do we know we're not on Mars?" You eyes bug out, "what if we've been on Venus all along and we don't even know it!"

He hums but stops when someone snickers beside them. He tenses, already reaching in his pocket. "You got something you want to say?" He snarls.

The guy, some dumb lackey, smirks, "your bitch know how stupid she is?" He looks over to you and checks you out not-so subtly, "good thing she's hot."

He pulls out the knife and presses it against the other's neck. "At first I was going to hurt you but now I'm going to fucking kill you." Who cares about the rules about in-fighting, no one's going to talk to you like that and get away with it.

"Inui..." You ask innocently, watching the two with concern.

"Look away darling, okay, I gotta deal with this piece of shit."

[venusgirltarot]

What Would Your Person Think Of Your Fantasies (18+) — [♡]

Disclaimer: This reading is for entertainment purposes only. Tarot readings are about possibilities based on your current energy. Energy is forever changing and nothing is set in stone. Always remember, you have your own free will to make whatever decision you feel is best.

Close your eyes, take a deep breath, envision the person you are thinking of and then choose the pile(s) you feel most drawn to.

This is an 18+ reading with sexual messages and mature themes. Please do not interact with this post if you are a minor or are uncomfortable with NSFW readings/messages!

If you would like a personal reading from me, you can get one here!

Pile 1 ┊ ༑ ࿐ྂ。

oooo okay so there’s a lot of very deep intense energy here. You all may have a lot of Scorpio placements (specifically Scorpio Venus 👀) you may want your partner to be dominant and possessive and you could also be into kinkier things like bondage, choking and possibly even spit. It’s less of the act itself for you and more the way you’re giving this person all of the control and trusting them with your body in a way you wouldn’t trust anyone else.

Are you all on booktok? This gives me such spicy booktok vibes. Some of you may not even have a person in mind, you just wanted to check out the reading. You may have standards that are “too high” (I wrote it like that because I don’t believe in too high of expectations. Go get the booktok partner of your dreams and don’t let anyone stop you) do you like tattoos? I keep seeing a person with a sleeve. Maybe you also have a hand/arm kink. Boobs are so prevalent here so maybe you have larger boobs or just really nice/pretty ones and you like when they are payed attention to or the other way around, maybe you really like boobs and pay a lot of attention to them during sex.

Ok, Pile 1

This person has a HIGH drive and they will love your kinks/fantasies. They may not be familiar with all of them but are more than happy to learn. I heard “you always have something new for me” 😭 ooo girl (I mean that in a gender neutral way) this energy is INTENSE. I heard “they wanna be all in your business” and “they LOVE you” they could be a single parent for some of you. They’re very responsible and take a leader role in all areas of life and do have a very… I’m gonna be honest, I have no clue what I was going on about there because I just got a very detailed image of their ARM which is such a nice arm btw and they’re behind you doing it from the back but they have you like bent over the edge of the bed and they have a handful of your hair and they are VOCAL like not just dirty talk but a lot of moans/grunting. This scenario would be reversed depending on what parts your equipped with or what you’re into because I do feel like there’s going to be a few male or male identifying people that pick this pile! Also I just remembered that before this, I was about to say that they have a very “daddy/mommy” sort of vibe. I hope that makes sense.

I think as long as they have control or get to be more dominant and take care of you, they’re down for any kink you have. Like I said before, they’re very dominant and possessive. They may say “you’re mine” or “that (body part) is mine” ya know. I also just heard “as long as I get all of you” and aftercare is very important to them. In and out do the bedroom, they care for you a lot and want to take care of you and your needs.

Pile 2 ┊ ༑ ࿐ྂ。

Okay so I think this could be a more diverse pile. For some of you I think you like for your partner to worship you. To sort of treat you like a god/goddess in bed and you want them to he desperate to please you. You really like receiving oral and I think you like giving as well but you like very desperate/needy sex. You may like incorporating food or maybe you like to eat after sex. For others I think you may like having a submissive partner. You may be the type to listen to whimper audios. A large portion of people picking this like could be apart of the LGBTQ+ community. Some of you could like feet (no judgement, one in ten people actually like feet so you’re definitely not alone) you may like oil. I just heard that Cardi B quote “suck my sick and feed me grapes” 😭

This pile is so different so it’s hard to put it into words but I’ll start with the first category of people and then next I’ll go into the second category.

So first category, I don’t think you’re really a “dominant” person but you like being in control. You like telling your person how to please/touch you and you like when your person is desperate/needy or vocal. You like when your person makes their main priority please you and you especially love them giving you oral. You may have taught them exactly how you like it so they give it to you perfectly every time and oral seems especially important in the morning. You may like soft/gentle sex that’s very deep and passionate and you’re not done having sex until you’ve came and that’s equally important for both you and your partner. Some of you might like whips/collars but this could also be me picking up on the second category of people that picked this pile.

Your person loves this dynamic and they love pleasuring you. They specifically love your moans and the way your body moves when they go down on you. They may enjoy giving you massages and possibly giving you baths or having a bath ready for you. They love being inside you or you being inside them and they love how connected it makes them feel to you. They love kissing your body and they love how you look covered in oil (although they may get frustrated when it gets slippery or difficult) if you have boobs, they love massaging them and they really like kissing between your thighs. They LOVE when you give them oral and they think you’re very good at it but they wish you would do it more often. More than anything, they love the intensity and passion between the two of you.

Second category

For the second category, you enjoy being more dominant. You like when your partner is obedient and you really like your partners whimpers and the way their body moves. You may enjoy licking their body or teasing/edging them until they can’t handle it anymore and their eyes are watering. You either love being inside of them and how the inside of them feels or the other way around and you love them inside of you and how the inside of you feels or both. You may also really like face sitting/tongue riding and I keep seeing fingering. Similar to the first category, you may enjoy food or oil being incorporated. You may also like or want to get a sex swing and you may enjoy sex in the water or shower sex. You really love and want to worship and take your time with your person’s body.

Your person really loves this. Maybe they haven’t been properly loved or cared for in the past so the way you love them is very healing for them. They feel safe with you and you may be the first person they’ve ever been able to cum with. You’re very good at after care, as well and if you are interested in getting a sex swing, I definitely think they’d be up for it. They feel safe and comfortable with you so they’d be open to trying it and I think you both would really like it. I also keep seeing more fingering so that could be something you’re both really into or maybe the two of you recently had a very good experience with it or tried something new with it for the first time.

Pile 3 ┊ ༑ ࿐ྂ。

Okay pile 3, I think I’m getting both you and your person’s energy rn cause you’re very very in tune with each other and wanting the same thing in all aspects, not just sexual. This may be a new relationship or possibly a new beginning in your current relationship after a period of staleness or stagnancy. I keep getting shaky and nervous so maybe this is how you feel about this person.

You want someone who will take control and be more dominant but also that makes you feel safe and comfortable. You want someone that will make sure your wants and needs in the bedroom met. Maybe you’re not as experienced or are still figuring out your wants/needs so you want someone that will explore that with you and not make you feel bad about it. You may enjoy being spanked and you may like handcuffs. Maybe you’ve waited a long time for this or waited a long time for this person so you want this time spent with them to be worth the wait. I heard “everything I’ve wanted and more” you want deep and passionate sex, you want to feel like this persons is completely yours and vice versa. You want this person to explore and genuinely appreciate your body.

You may really want to give this person oral. You want to please them and hear what their moans sound like. You want to see them finish and know that you were the one that did that to them and you like knowing that you’re capable of doing that to them. You want to explore their body just as much as you want them to explore yours and you want to feel all of them. This feels somewhat sexual but also there’s so much this person wants with you. They want you to know that you’re the only person they ever think about, that nobody else compares.

They want to get to know every side of you and they want to get you alone really bad. Maybe you always see each other in public or in crowds of people so there’s no time to connect or get to know you on a deeper level but they want to so bad. They really like your sense of humor but wish they could see more of it. They want to see and appreciate your body. Even if they haven’t seen it, I heard “I know it looks beautiful” their idea of what you look like naked may actually be pretty accurate. They may masturbate to you often.

You may have very soft skin and they really like that. They think of running their hands all over your body. They think about giving you oral. I heard “I wonder how you’d take it” they may be very large down there or vice versa but they fantasize about how you’d take them or if you’d be able to take all of them. They want to be inside of you so bad (or vice versa, of course) more than anything, they want you.

They want you in a way they’ve never wanted anyone else and they want to know who you are at your core. They seem a little possessive on the sense that they want to know you in a way no one else gets to know you and understand every part of you in a way no one ever has. They may want to just cuddle naked or do something where they feel very bonded /connected to you. Possibly cock warming. Maybe that’s something you’re into that they’d be very happy to try. This is a very deep and passionate connection that I heard “will come into fruition” and “just give it time”

I also noticed that I said “so bad” so much during this reading so maybe that’s some sort of sign for someone!

Hello, lovelies! Thank you all so much for reading this PAC! I apologize for any typos, I haven’t proof read it all just yet. I hope you enjoyed the reading! Feel free to check out my past readings, here

As always, I hope you all are having a good day or night! Sending you so much love and light! ♡

࿐ྂ mara

[desperate-gay]

How about a NNN (No nut november) fic with either Leah or Alexia where they made a bet and two weeks in regret it but R wants them to win and denies them but also still teases. they end up getting mocked by everyone because of their lack of concentration. you can decide the ending !

Needy November

Alexia Putellas x fem!reader

a/n: pretend i’m not two months late…

“C’mon capi, join the bet. Ingrid and I are doing it!” Mapi exclaims, continuing to try and convince her captain to the challenge.

“For the last time Maria, no.” Alexia shakes her head and proceeds to pack up her kit bag. She found the whole month's dare stupid and meaningless, especially when it meant holding off one of her favorite things.

“Ah, I see. You’re too scared that you’re gonna lose. I bet you’d crumble and fail within an hour.” The tattooed girl smirks, egging on Alexia which seems to be working. Alexia is never one to lose a challenge, so hearing people say she’d fail, she’s going to prove them wrong.

“How much are we talking?”

—

“Bebe, I’m home!” Alexia’s voice echoes through the house, but once she notices the nicely lit candles and rose petals on the ground, she decides to quickly look for you.

Making her way around the home, she still has no clue as to where you are. She finally makes her way to the bedroom, and when she walks in, hands cover her eyes from behind which makes her jump but ease down when she smells the familiar scent of your perfume.

“Surprise.” You whisper in her ear, leaning up to reach. Removing your hands, you make your way in front of her and smooth out your outfit. Her eyes trail down her body and her mouth opens slightly in awe.

“What is all this?” She asks breathlessly, hands finding their way to your hips while yours loop around her neck and mess with her baby hairs.

“I thought I’d surprise you. I didn’t have anything to grade or check over today, so I came straight home and set this up. You and I have hardly had much time together since the season started, and I wanted to make time. So here we are.” Smiling, you lean in for a loving kiss. Alexia melts into your soft lips but pulls back way too soon for both of your liking.

“No no no no, I can’t.” The taller girl groans as she runs her hands down her face. She keeps them hovering over her eyes so she can’t see you in your outfit. If she keeps looking, she would pounce and have her way with you, but lose the bet.

Your hands grab her wrists and pull them away from her face, but her head tilts up towards the ceiling. “What is going on, baby? You’re really confusing me right now.” You nervously chuckle at her weird behavior.

“I made a bet with the girls.” She trails off, still avoiding your gaze.

“Oh no-”

“I can’t have any sex this month.”

“What!”

Alexia winces at your sudden rise of tone. “I know, I know. It was so stupid to accept. I should have just left.” She groans, still keeping her eyes off of you.

You let off a small huff and race through your thoughts. Technically, the team wouldn’t even know if she failed the challenge, she’d just have to lie. You grin to yourself and return your hands to her neck, rubbing up and down sensually. Alexia’s breath hitches when you press a few kisses on her jawline, knowing what you’re trying to do.

“Y’know, the girls don’t have to find out. We can have all the fun we want and still win the bet.” You whisper in her ear, attempting to help her give in. You pull back slightly and tug her earlobe between your teeth, making her eyes roll slightly in pleasure.

“No, that’s cheating which makes me a loser.” She suddenly takes a few steps back, shaking her head ferociously while pacing around the room.

“So you’re saying no to your half-naked girlfriend because you’re too stubborn to lose a bet that you got yourself into?” You question, quirking your eyebrow at her.

“Si.”

Her deadpan answer makes you scoff and groan at the same time. She probably didn’t even consider what she’d be taking away from you when she accepted the bet, so you’re going to try one last thing in hopes of changing her mind. You approach her and lightly run your fingertips down her chest and to her stomach, causing the Catalan to look anywhere but you.

“Ale, be serious for a second. You can pretend this stupid little game doesn’t exist and do whatever you want to me. You can bend and flip me into any position then fuck me-“

“La la la la! I can’t hear you!” Alexia covers her ears, shouting like a little kid and closing her eyes to end your temptations. Groaning loudly, you stomp into the bathroom to get your robe and calm down.

After a minute, the brunette peeks her eye open and sees you’re no longer in the room. She lets out a breath in relief but frowns when she takes in how much you did for her only for it to be ruined.

Walking over to the bathroom, she knocks lightly against the door. “Amor? Are you okay?”

She moves back when the door swings open, revealing you with your hair up in a messy bun and your body dressed in an oversized shirt with shorts. Her eyes follow your figure as you blow out all the candles, confusing her as to what your mood is. You can either be angry or just meh. Once you’re done, you walk back over to the taller girl and place a kiss on her cheek.

“I’m not mad, Ale. I guess it’s my fault for being in a relationship with a stubborn captain who can’t ever lose.”

“Hey!”

—

Three weeks in and Alexia has been miserable. Her body aches for yours, to touch you and to be touched. You on the other hand have been okay. Of course, you’re constantly craving Alexia, but you can still get off by yourself. It’s hard, but it’s one way to relieve yourself.

Alexia has been off the past week due to tweaking her knee, so she has to sit out for precautionary purposes. She still goes to training to see the girls and fulfill her captain duties, but today she decided to stay at home with you. It’s the weekend so you don’t have to worry about going to work.

You decided to take in your time off and enjoy yourself with a book in bed while Alexia busied herself in the living room, most likely watching football games. You’re embracing the silence of the room until the door creaks open and a body slams itself onto the bed.

The Catalan sighs, trying to get your attention but when you don’t pay her any mind, she sighs louder. You continue to flip through the pages of your book, purposely ignoring the girl’s advances. She crawls up to your body and places her head onto your stomach then trailing her hands onto your waist, just where your shirt rises and shows off your skin.

It starts as innocent as she rubs her hands up and down, massaging at your skin but soon turns more sinister when she places kisses below your belly button. Her fingers hook onto your shorts in an attempt to pull them down, but her advances are stopped when you slap at her hands.

“Amor.” She whines, looking up at you with your nose still stuck in your book. She huffs in annoyance and slides her body up, poking her head between the gap of your arms, now resting her head on your chest.

When you continue to pay her no attention, she begins to trail kisses across your jaw and down your neck. Her teeth start to sink into your skin right before you slam your book shut, making the girl jump in shock.

“Baby, I know you’re needy right now, but you need to stop.” You say sternly.

“Oh bebe, I know you want this just as much as I do. Let’s get naked, si?” She grins as her nose brushes along the underside of your jaw.

“Ah, no.” You push her off your body and onto the other side of the bed.

“C’mon, bebe. Don’t you want me fuck you with the stra-“

You quickly place a hand over her mouth and say, “You dug this hole, Ale. You gotta get yourself out of it. I’m not gonna give in just because you want it this time. You wanted to win so you’re going to win.”

Alexia buries her face into a pillow and lets out a few noises of aggression before getting up to head back into the living room. You shake your head in amusement and reopen your book, continuing from the spot you were interrupted by.

The Catalan shouts from another room, “I guess I’ll have to occupy myself because my girlfriend doesn’t love me!”

“Don’t you dare, Alexia Putellas Segura!”

—

It’s finally November 30th. Alexia is in the locker room, bouncing her leg up and down in anticipation of tonight. You’re both definitely going to be staying up until midnight to make up for the month’s time.

“Got somewhere to be, capi?” Patri asks, noticing the girl’s antsy behavior.

“Yeah, to her girlfriend so she can finally shag her tonight,” Mapi smirks when Alexia glares at her. “Don’t you think I know? Ingrid and I are both excited too, right bonita?” Ingrid rolls her eyes at her girlfriend who is waving her eyebrows up and down.

“It’s your fault I am even in this mess.” Alexia glares at the tattooed defender who in return holds up her hands in fake defense.

“You’re the one who agreed to take part in it, amiga. I didn’t force you.”

The two bicker back and forth until Ingrid interferes, stopping both of them much to the team’s dismay who find their arguing amusing. Ingrid rushes Mapi out the door to get home and rest as soon as possible from the rough training while Alexia decides to do the same.

It’s around 10 at night as she walks through the door. Just like a few weeks ago, there are flower petals on the ground and candles lit around the house, but now there is soft music playing and you standing in a new lingerie set with two flutes of champagne.

Alexia drops her bag onto the floor and quickly makes her way over to you, taking one glass out of your hand and into hers before wrapping her free arm around your back, pulling you into a steamy kiss. After a while, you both pull away to catch your breath with swollen red lips and blown-up eyes.

“Um, we still have two hours so I thought we could watch a movie for the time being. Can’t let you lose now.”

“That’s so long though.” Alexia whines but stops when you slam your lips against hers.

Pulling away you whisper, “Maybe we can make out during the movie, y’know, set the mood for the hours of stolen time we need to redeem?”

—

“Someone had a good night!” Lucy howls at the love-sick smile and glow that has been plastered on the captain’s face since she arrived at training.

“Mapi, pay up!”

[ceruleanwhore]

Sariel is also a victim of the late king but no one talks about it

⚠ TW: Talking about grooming plus mentions of rape and suicide ⚠

(Also, heads up that there will be spoilers for Sariel's route in here.)

I haven't seen anyone talk about how Sariel was literally groomed by the late king yet, so I decided to just go ahead and do that. Please skip this post if this topic is something that could hurt you to read about.

First off, let's talk power imbalance. The previous king was, well, a king and, at the time he first met Sariel, Sariel was a poor 10 year old child whose sole source of income was crime. As a king, prev king was always going to have a power imbalance with just about anyone he ever met, but the power imbalance between him and Sariel is literally as skewed as it can get at the time they meet. Then, when you add in the part where one of the few and most important aspects of Sariel's backstory that we get in his route is how his dad just disappeared one day, it gets even worse and more complicated.

When the king met Sariel, the only appropriate thing he could've done would've been to find him a home and get him adopted or fostered or something, not bring him into the palace and give him a job with tons of responsibility at the ripe old age of ten. That choice was bad enough but it's worse because the job in question was to take care of this man's children and also do a shitload of emotional labor for him. The way the king used child!Sariel like a therapist and shared all his mental, emotional, and relationship issues with this child is a textbook example of grooming. Not to mention that this guy also gave Sariel whole identity so, for the rest of his life, Sariel's abuser is entwined with most aspects of his life, including something as simple as his name.

Somehow, this horrible situation got even worse because prev king attempted suicide and Sariel was the one who found him when he did that. I understand very well that suicide is not a choice and I would never blame someone for attempting suicide or dying that way, but when the person in question has already groomed the fuck out of the person who ends up finding them after their suicide attempt, that makes things quite complicated. Because of how the king had already groomed Sariel and, more specifically, dumped his mental and emotional problems on him, I think it's inevitable that Sariel would've felt responsible for that suicide attempt. After however long of being that sole confidant to the king, I can't imagine he wouldn't feel personally responsible for the king's mental and emotional struggles, up to and including suicide.

Another factor here that further complicates things is the complicated (read: shitty) nature of the king and his actions. We all know by now that two of the eight princes were conceived by rape, and Sariel knows that too but, in spite of that, we regularly get to see him defend this horrible king, insisting that he was complicated and that he never would've hurt anyone if it weren't for the one singular loss he suffered in his life. What this means is that we, the audience, have full knowledge of how horrible the previous king was and that he was a literal rapist and, therefore, it's in character for him to also be a groomer, but Sariel is in the thick of it and can't fully perceive or understand what happened to him. Instead, he continues to view the king as his "special friend" who was widely misunderstood and whom only Sariel was able to fully understand, so he continues to defend his abuser.

The other thing is what we see in Sariel's full ending bonus story about the journal that the king gave him on Bloodstained Rose Day. We know from the rest of his route and two endings that, as a child, he somehow ended up on the run/living a vagrant lifestyle with his father until that father disappeared one day but, otherwise, he has no clue who he is, where he comes from, or what the tattoo on his hand even was. This undoubtedly was a source of significant trauma and turmoil for him so, by having a lot of that information and being able to give it to him, the king had yet even more fucking power over Sariel. The worst part is that, when he gives Sariel the diary, the king even outright admits that he had this all along and chose to withhold it from Sariel to deliberately keep him from leaving the palace. He literally tells us directly that he's been abusing his power over this literal fucking child since he was ten fucking years old.

I know Ikemen never intended for us to see prev king's character this way and, like how we were supposed to look at Licht and Nokto's mother being an abusive cunt and instead somehow see a situation where there was no clear bad guy, Sariel is meant to tell us how to feel about the king. However, I think they accidentally set up a very clear case of grooming instead and it's all there in the text. I'm sure it won't happen, but I fucking wish that Sariel's sequel would include him realizing all of this, working through the trauma, and finally denouncing the late king, at least in private. I'd also love to see the sequel take Sariel and Emma to Obsidian and for them to get more info about his identity and family from Gilbert, since the kingdom he comes from was taken over by Obsidian.

[into-f0lkl0re]

Paige bueckers x reader

warnings: nsfw and my horrendous spelling and grammar inaccuracies (my ap lang teacher would be so disappointed)

not spell checked (i typed this whole thing on my phone( yes i have a computer) )

i hope yall like it

~I don’t got a single problem with provocative~

she had on a mini black skirt with ripped shear tights and doc martins

a yellow lacy tube top with stars in orange and red thread embroidered through out the top little tattoos littered her arms. an outline of a moon on her shoulder. A bow on her upper left arm, a bouquet of flowers above her elbow on her right. tiny stars coated both of her forearms. she was perfect.

~See the bodies, how they burn, it’s just the way it is~

A couple of minutes ago paige was trying to come up with some sort of excuse to tell her teammates why she had to leave this random club but then she spotted her. dancing with who paige assumed were her friends. one hand held a clear plastic cup with translucent light green liquid with a salted rim. paige felt her cheeks heat up. was it always this hot in here? paige forgot why she wanted to leave in the first place.

~ Smoky, dark, crowded room, I need nothing Under pink light in June. I was so cool, but then, all of a sudden You saw me look at you~

The room was filled with intoxicated college students trying to have a night off from the stress of their lives. today had been the last day of finals. school was officially out for the summer. everyone presumably celebrating.

“you’re staring” a voice whispered in paige’s ear

paige jumped almost spilling her drink

nika laughed patting paige’s back

“you’ve been staring at that poor girl for almost 8 minutes”

“is it that obvious?”

“yes extremely” a new voice replies

paige looks down and sees kk laughing with ice

“keep looking at her with that face and your eyes are gonna get stuck like that”

“fuck off”

“oh shit, paige she’s looking at you”

Nika elbows paige’s side.

paige turns and makes eye contact with the golden girl herself

~I burn for you and you don’t even know my name. If you’d asked me to i’d give up everything~

Paige felt her chest contract as the girl leaves the dance floor walking past paige and making her way to the bar while briefly making eye contact again and smiling. once the girl was at the bar she looked back at paige and laughed.

“stop standing there gaping like a god damn fish and go over there dumb ass” ice pushed paige towards the bar

~To be close to you pull the trigger on the gun i have you when we met~

“i’m paige” she almost shouts because of the deafening volume of the music

“i know who you are. Im pretty sure everyone at uconn knows who you are” y/n laughs

“can i buy you a drink?”

“ you don’t even know my name and you’re trying to buy me a drink? you move fast”

“ well what’s your name?”

“y/n and i like dirty shirley’s”

~I wanna be close to you. break my heart and start a fire, you got me overnight just let me be close to you~

“so what’s your major?”

“art history”

“oh what do you wanna do with that”

“i have no fucking clue”

paige laughs leaning her head against the bar holding her chest

“ok what about you? what’s your major?”

“uhm-human development and family sciences”

“ wow that sounds important. what do you want to do with that?”

paige lets out another laugh than sighs

“uh hopefully nothing i really wanna go pro”

“hey uh listen do you wanna maybe get out of here?”

“you read my mind”

~And now your mouth is moving, cinematic timing You pull me in and touch my neck, and now I'm dying~

barely making it through the threshold of paige’s apartment before her lips are on y/ns. tugging on her small tube top for dear life. paige blindly moves them towards her bedroom. they hit a couple walls on the way to their final destination. paige pushes her down on the bed before climbing over y/ns body and reconnecting their lips groaning into her mouth.

~You should be mine for life, I'll be signing

Every dotted line

Chemical override, ultraviolet

You could be mine tonight~

clothes long forgotten. two bodies grasping at each other letting out high pitched sighs and moans. paige’s hands are everywhere. groping her chest, paige slowly makes her way down y/ns body leaving a trail of love bites. taking her sweet time teasing, nipping and kissing at y/ns thighs.

“paige” y/n exhales

“say my name again” paige says again before sucking on her clit

“oh-god paige-please don’t stop”

“don’t worry ma i’m not stopping anytime soon.”

~ and i burn for you and you don’t even know my name

if you asked me to id give up everything to be close to you

break my heart and start a fire, you got me overnight

just let me be~

this was not a request i just thought this would be fun because i have been listening to secret of us on repeat for the past 48 hours

i’m working on an actual request a kk arnold x reader fic which i’m excited for. that should be out soon. i also wanna do a kate martin fic inspired by risk. send requests my way and ideas🙏

big forehead kisses 💕

-faye

[saerins]

─── 𝐒𝐊𝐈𝐍-𝐃𝐄𝐄𝐏

+ michael kaiser x f!reader | wc 2.8k | content: fluff, kaiser is persistent lol, making out, suggestive

notes: idk babes …. hopefully i didn’t butcher him <3 running back to sae after this 🫡 kaiser lovers, enjoy the one and only kaiser fic on my blog !! hehe

summary: kaiser has more reason to visit his regular cafe spot now. and he’s not gonna quit until he makes you his.

kaiser thinks you’re pretty.

call him stupid or superficial or whatever, but he can’t help it. he walks over to the far end of the counter where you’re working, staring intently at the latte art you’re doing.

it’s horrible. you’re probably new. figures, because he lives right above in the apartment complex and he’s never seen you here before. it’s a damn crime.

“i want a flat white cappuccino, hot, and could you make it with a heart on top?”

you furrow your brows and look up at him, his elbows propped on the stainless steel countertop, cheeky smirk filling his face. you continue wearing your straight expression as you go back to the task at hand.

“i’m not the waiter. you can ask mimiko, she’s the one at the register.”

kaiser doesn’t know her either. she must be new too.

you’re not that friendly. not that kaiser minds; he’ll break through your walls. that’s his personal challenge. he’ll do it.

“but i wanna talk to you.”

still unamused, you sigh and look at him, putting down your frother.

“get in line.”

“hey y/n!”

kaiser’s still optimistic after the failed fifth attempt. he managed to get your name from mimiko when you finally made him go away that first day he saw you. to which you groaned, but kaiser only grinned.

today’s no different. you frown when he walks in, immediately relegating to the back corner of the bar. too bad though, kaiser’s got charms, he’s made quick friends with everyone else here plus he has the famous soccer player privilege so your other colleagues love him.

that’s why he manages to get behind the counter in no time, saying he’ll help work the register. but really, he has no clue what to do and he’s just dilly-dallying around you.

“no, real talk, why do you hate me so much?” kaiser asks, not really bothered but more curious.

you don’t even take him seriously. you’ve looked at him probably about twice this entire day, and one time wasn’t even by choice; it was only because kaiser was blocking your path to the fridge and wouldn’t budge unless you said please. (you didn’t. you just glared at him until he moved.)

“i don’t like your hair.”

“hey, what’s wrong with my hair?”

you shrug. “just don’t like it.”

“okay but what about my tattoos, you like those right?”

kaiser moves to adjust his shirt to let you see but you walk off.

“not really.”

he sighs, you’re really hard to get close to, he’ll give you that. but he’s not one to give up.

before kaiser can say anything else, a bunch of girls from the counter call your name, and he sees you smile for the first time since he’s met you and he feels even more hooked on you.

the control you have over him is pretty insane, and it’s only because kaiser allows it.

you and your friends talk about normal stuff. they’re asking how work’s going and you say it’s fine—just that there’s an annoying guy that won’t quit talking to you.

“wow, fifth date and you’re already telling your friends about me?” kaiser interjects, putting an arm around your shoulder and greeting your friends. he’s positive you’re seething right now, but he continues on. “hey there, you can call me kaiser.”

as your friends blush and introduce themselves, all kaiser notices is how you don’t push him away like you always used to upon first contact. so hey, maybe he is making progress after all.

“so, barista y/n l/n, what’re your plans for today?”

it’s been two months since you started working in the cafe, and it’s been two months since kaiser’s relentless pursuit. he’s not backing down though.

“well, player michael kaiser, that’s none of your business,” you absentmindedly respond as you clean the glass in your hand with the cloth and put it back up on the shelf.

lucky for him, mimiko is on his side.

“our dear y/n has a blind date tonight,” she coos, getting a sigh out of you and winking at kaiser.

“first of all, i’m not a player,” kaiser makes sure to tell you, hurriedly making his way behind the counter as if he owns the place. “second of all, who’s the guy?”

you press your lips into a firm line and repeat yourself, “none of your business, kaiser.”

“but it is.”

“why the hell would it be?”

kaiser pouts. “because i like you.”

it takes you a while to respond, swallowing the lump in your throat. “i’ve been nothing but mean to you, you sure you’re not just a masochist?”

that’s a blatant lie, kaiser knows. he knows you’re not actually mean, you just have a sharp tongue.

kaiser notices how you notice him—placing three sugars in his coffee and doing it for him whenever you make it. adding to that; you personally make all of kaiser’s drinks instead of handing it to the other barista, and you make little hearts on top. (at first he thought you might’ve really wanted to poison him, but hey, he’s alive so probably not.) he knows you give someone else the horrible latte art and give him the nicer one you do. he knows how you’ve never actually been mean to him aside from saying you hated his hair and tattoos. (but then he also caught you staring at the rose that one time so maybe you don’t.)

“nope, pretty sure i like you,” kaiser affirms, because in the sunlight he thinks your invisible halo is shining and he’d be a lot more lovestruck now if half of him wasn’t upset that you’re going to go on a blind date when he can’t even score alone time with you.

“what’s his name?” he asks you again, when you don’t respond to him.

it’s about a half hour till closing, he’ll have the whole time to pitch himself to you, maybe. score a date or something. hell, maybe he’ll even convince you not to go on the—

“y/n, right?”

kaiser whips his head to the side to see your supposed date already here.

“i’m yukimiya kenyu,” he’s shaking your hand and you’re actually smiling. at a guy. do you smile at anyone as long as they’re not kaiser? “ready to go?”

“she has another half hour to go, idiot,” kaiser lets slip, catching a warning glare from you.

yukimiya grins sheepishly at the animosity, but you’re quick to defuse the tension. “actually i get off a half hour early today so i’m good to go,” you tell yukimiya, ignoring kaiser behind you. “just let me get my bag and we can go, okay?”

while you’re in the back clocking out, kaiser glares at your date, who’s leaning against the counter and scrolling through his socials. he’s clean, neat, looks like he could be a model. is that your type? kaiser can do that too, does he need to show you all the endorsement deals he’s done?

you leave without saying goodbye, laser focused on yukimiya and whatever the fuck he’s saying and kaiser has never felt more irritated.

“so, how’s your date with pretty boy?”

that’s mimiko asking, because kaiser is still a little pouty even a week later.

“it was fine, we’re into a lot of the same stuff apparently.”

kaiser’s still hovering around you though, because it’s off-season and he’s going to spend every moment he can chasing you. you’re not making it easy though. you’re still giving him the cold shoulder sometimes.

“when’s the next date?”

kaiser is too focused on the thin air he’s staring into to notice you briefly throwing him a quick glance.

“don’t know if there is one, honestly.”

that manages to get kaiser’s attention, his mood immediately perking up and eyes now fully focused on you.

“why not? thought you guys had a lot in common or whatever,” kaiser half-mocks, still a little salty. (which is a little funny to you, considering what kind of person he is in the soccer world.)

you roll your eyes and sigh, moving to keep all the cutleries that you’ve just shined. “don’t know,” you tell them, “maybe because when i was on the date i kept thinking of this annoying guy i know.”

kaiser freezes up. did you really just say that? he’s going to take a shot and just assume he’s the only annoying guy you know. no one should take that position from him.

from the side, mimiko slowly shuffles away, leaving the two of you alone by the coffee machine.

“so… does that mean you’re giving annoying guy a shot?” kaiser’s grinning from ear to ear now, and it’s probably infectious because you’re trying to suppress a grin too.

“maybe, but if he screws it up i’m done with him.”

you’re still trying to act fierce, but it’s too late because kaiser can see through it now. you’re really just a softie inside, aren’t you?

“then are you free this weekend?”

you look at him for the first time with no disinterest in your eyes, like you’re really looking at him now. “what for?”

kaiser smirks. “annoying guy is gonna take you out for the best first date of your life.”

kaiser doesn’t know if he succeeded. but hey, it’s been three hours since the date started and you haven’t run away yet so he must be doing okay.

he takes you to the amusement park first, because one time when you were idly chattering away with mimiko he heard you saying you haven’t been to one in ages. so here you are, on the third rollercoaster ride and you’re having so much fun kaiser’s proud of himself.

turns out you’re surprisingly nice to be around when you’re not being such a grouch. kaiser’s only liking you even more now. likes you even when you’re so excited to eat the corn dog that you get mustard on your face—that only means he gets to wipe it off. likes you also when you bat your pretty eyelashes at him so he’d win you that bunny toy you like in the claw machine.

“so, how am i doing?” kaiser asks when he escorts you to his car—next stop is dinner.

you hum, taking a bite of the big unicorn candy floss in your hand. “a solid six.”

kaiser clicks his tongue in faux annoyance, “it’ll be an eleven by the end of tonight.”

you laugh again and kaiser thinks all this work is worth it. he opens the car door for you, makes sure the aircon isn’t too cold that you freeze, lets you play your music in his car.

you’re kind of the most beautiful girl he’s ever seen, but then again he might be biased. but who cares? you’re also kind of one of the most annoying, but you think the same of him. and you’re not scared of jumping into anything, he can tell because when he pulls up in a parking lot outside of the restaurant, he tells you he wants to kiss you kinda.

your answer?

kaiser never really expected you to agree. but you do; because you climb over to the driver’s seat and settle on his lap, your lips inches away and a smirk forming on your face when you see he’s taken off guard.

“want me to kiss you, kaiser?” you’re teasing him, and he thinks you’ve never looked hotter. he can feel your breath against his lips and fuck your lips are so so close and he wants to taste you so so bad.

but then he remembers who he is and straightens up, cursing himself for letting himself be so flustered into submission. “only if the lady wants it.”

you scoff, rolling your eyes and moving to open his side of the door, “well, if you don’t wanna—”

kaiser closes the door as soon as it opens and turns you to face him, “fuck, just kiss me already.”

the two of you hold onto each other, his hands around your waist and entangled in your hair, his lips gentle and rough on yours both at the same time. you taste sweet, must be all that candy floss you ate. he wants to taste more of you. the little sounds you make when you’re almost out of breath? music to his fucking ears. he’s so whipped for you and he hates you for it. but he also loves you for being like this, for being you.

you’re the first to pull away, smirking and biting your lower lip as you keep your index finger on his lips, separating him from you. “how was that, kaiser?” he doesn’t think you can sound more seductive if you tried.

“y/n l/n, you drive me insane.”

kaiser can’t even focus on dinner after that.

fourth date in and kaiser’s fucking pathetic.

really, he can’t even remember ever being this pathetic because you’ve got him wrapped around your cute little pinky finger.

“what’re you staring at, perv?” you ask, catching him staring as you’re idly flipping through the channels.

it’s a lazy sunday in, you and kaiser are at his apartment, on his bed, watching movies. kaiser sighs because ness walked in on the both of you earlier and even though he’s more than happy to show you off, he’s not looking forward to the interrogation that will unfold.

“staring at your stupid pretty face,” kaiser says, and you avert your gaze, pouting, which kaiser has found out two days ago is just to subvert from your embarrassment.

“hey, when’re you leaving for the champions league again?”

“next week, why?”

you deadpan at him, “what, not gonna invite me to something?”

kaiser stares at you for a minute, dumbfounded, before laughing. that must be the first time ever that you’re asking him for something. up until now, it’s always been him.

“you know what, forget i asked,” you grumble, pouting even more and kaiser has to peck a kiss on your lips from how adorable he thinks you’re being.

“fuck, you’re cute,” he thinks out loud, and you look away.

it’s not like the both of you are together, he thinks, as his finger moves up and down your arms, watching as the goosebumps appear and disappear. but kaiser whatever this situation is, kaiser wants it. he wants this and more and he’s so far gone in you and he doesn’t mind.

“you better be in the front row, okay?” kaiser tells you that night, resuming that conversation. you move to straddle him instead and relish in how he’s dragging his eyes all over your body.

“yes, sir.”

fuck, you really do drive him fucking insane.

kaiser finds it sexy, how you’re in the front row at one of his matches, how you’re wearing a jersey with his name and number on it, how he knows you’re cheering for him and him only.

he invites you to all of his games, puts you up in his hotel, sneaks you around so you won’t be under the public eye. it’s thrilling, and you’re still the same you, beautiful, gorgeous, kind.

you’re still not together, but now he’s sure where he’s headed with you. after six months of whatever this is, he thinks you’d kill him if you weren’t sure. and kaiser thinks you’re just waiting for him, so he’s going to make it memorable.

so, so memorable.

his team makes it to the finals, and with noel noa leading everyone, it’s no surprise they win. the bleachers go wild, everyone is chanting the club cheer, fanning their merch wildly.

kaiser is being pounced on by ness and his other teammates, so is noel. but kaiser pushes through it, weaves out of it, and he’s headed straight to you.

in front of everyone in the stadium, in front of international television, kaiser is running across the field and making his way to you.

kaiser is fast and persistent and so pathetic because he’s so into you and all he knows is he wants you around. for a long time, and forever, if he dare say. so he throws his legs over the railing and kisses you without hesitation, the entire crowd going wild.

he’s kissing you, slow and smiling against your lips and you’re holding onto his arms and fuck you’re so perfect.

“well,” you say when kaiser finally pulls away, his hand still on the back of your neck, “that’s one way to make things public.”

kaiser chuckles, pressing a kiss on your forehead. “now the whole world knows you’re mine,” he says, aware that everyone on his team is probably passing money around because he’s sure they bet on when he’d finally make you his girlfriend.

“you’re crazy, michael kaiser.”

yeah, but you love him, don’t you?

he loves you too, by the way.

kaiser pulls away and winks at you right before he gets ready to get back to his team.

“guess i’ll have to top this when i ask you to marry me, huh?”

[shiny-crocodile]

the best person i’ve ever met

lucy bronze x ona batlle

Summary

lucy and ona origin story; semi-slow burn, semi-quick; multi chapters that will get a little smutty

chapter 1, chapter 2, chapter 3, chapter 4, chapter 5, chapter 6, chapter 7, chapter 8, chapter 9, chapter 10

CHAPTER 7

Chapter summary: injuries and jealousy

Chapter notes: thank so much for all the suggestions! already had this written but tweaked to include one. hope you enjoy xx

Smut

As the days and weeks passed it was harder and harder for Lucy to keep this hidden from her teammates. She wasn’t a natural at keeping secrets, and there was only so many ways she could reject Mapi’s relentless offers of another tattooed friend for her to date.

The two right backs called each other nearly every night, knowing it was about to become extremely difficult to hide with Ona going to the Chelsea game and having to spend time with both Lucy and her Spanish teammates afterwards. They had zero clue how they were going to navigate that one.

The game only a few days away, Jana and Salma were in the changing room discussing match tickets in earshot of Lucy.

“So I asked her if she wanted me to get her tickets to the game on Saturday but she said she’s already got some,” Jana continued. “Did you get her them? I need to make sure she’s in the family area so my mum will have someone she knows there.”

The group around Jana all shook their heads.

So Jana turned to the rest of the room, announcing, “did any of you get Ona tickets to the game on Saturday?”

“Not me” chimed out from different parts of the changing room as they all looked at each other.

She was in the family area, but Lucy was going to keep quiet and no one was really looking at her, they wouldn’t think to. Apart from Keira and Alexia but they would have never said anything.

“Why don’t you just ask her?” Alexia suggested.

Jana sighed, “I did, she’s aired my messages, must have lost her phone again.”

Lucy chuckled in her head, knowing full well Ona’s phone was alive and well as they were messaging each other 10 minutes ago.

Jana huffed and stropped out to training.

As the last two out onto the pitch, Alexia matched Lucy’s pace. “She’s sitting in the family area yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Cool I’ll let Jana know, can’t have her sulking all day,” Alexia said, “you know everyone’s going to find out on Saturday.”

Before Lucy had time to respond, Alexia had jogged off to catch up with Jana.

She knew her captain was probably right, but the barça girls were still more Ona’s friends than Lucy’s. She would wait for the younger girl to be ready to tell them, not putting any pressure on. Lucy could keep her mouth shut.

////

As the Barcelona coach pulled into Stamford Bridge, the day had finally arrived and crowds were starting to build. Lucy looked out the window to see as many “Bronze” shirts as she did Chelsea or other Barça ones, giving her the warmest welcome when she jumped off.

Ona was already at Stamford Bridge, excitement building as she chatted to a lot of familiar faces, mingling with the friends and family of her Spain teammates.

She had been so looking forward to being reunited with Lucy but also to watch her play, never having actually watched her from the stands, she couldn’t wait to fan girl.

The Spaniard loved that she wasn’t the only Lucy fan, with Bronze shirts everywhere! She proudly took photos of any in her eye line. If anything it made Ona feel even luckier to be with her.

Just watching Lucy warm up was adorable, in a world of her own, and then sweetly swinging the arm of her young mascot, Ona was well and truly swooning.

As the game kicked off Ona felt similar rush from watching Lucy play as when roles were reversed a few weeks ago. The number 15 won every duel, was first to each ball, and even made an insane goal line clearance, Ona was in awe. Mesmerised enough that she even felt it lower down, knowing exactly where her hand would be right now if she wasn’t sat next to Jana’s mum.

So transfixed by the game and the girl, she nearly missed what Alexia’s sister was up to a couple rows in front of her. Nearly missed, but not quite.

Scrolling through TikTok, Ona could easily recognise these as Lucy edits, she’d seen most of them before herself. Some were thirstier than others but video after video was just Lucy.

Ona knew that either Sofia had literally searched “Lucy Bronze edits” or her algorithm was just pure Lucy. Whichever was true, Ona’s blood was boiling, completely taking over her as she lost all focus of the game, pissed off that this girl, a beautiful girl at that, was thirsting over her Lucy.

With her eyes off the game and burning a whole in the back of Sofia’s head, the younger girl didn’t see Lucy go down until the whistle drew her attention back to the pitch.

“Shit, what happened?” Ona asked Jana’s mum next to her. Medical staff were surrounding Lucy now as play was paused.

“I didn’t see properly but she went down holding her knee.”

Fuuuuuck, Ona thought, knowing exactly what this meant. Lucy wasn’t one to require treatment or stay down this long if it wasn’t serious. Ona was panicking.

Lucy limped off the pitch and straight into the changing room, leaving Ona feeling helpless and biting her nails for the last 30 minutes of the game until the full time whistle went and Lucy reappeared, not walking right as she made her way onto the pitch to congratulate her teammates and commiserate with her Chelsea friends.

Rather than going round the pitch to see fans as she usually did, the English girl hobbled back down the tunnel. She couldn’t bring herself to wave up at the family area, worrying Ona further, who was ignoring the congratulatory hugs to try and read the expression of the older girl for something, anything.

//

The Man U player was feeling incredibly anxious as she waited for Lucy in the hospitality restaurant that all the family and friends were told to wait in. She was temporarily distracted as the Barcelona players gradually started to make their way into the room, giving her mini reunions with the girls she’s known for years.

As more and more players came in, the English girl never appeared. The Spaniard couldn’t wait any longer.

Ona - all good?

Lucy - sorry, medics are taking their sweet time on my knee.

Lucy - can you go to the lifts? I’ll send someone to get you.

Ona discreetly made her way out, not noticed by the rest of the room who were digging in to some post game burgers.

//

“Shit,” Ona said as she entered the room to see Lucy sat up on the medical bed with an insane amount of ice around her knee.

“Not as bad as it looks,” Lucy lied, getting an eye roll from Peter the physio.

Peter picked up one of the ice packs to take a look at the knee in question.

“Ok you need to stay here a little longer, I’ll go and get you both a plate of food from upstairs.”

Lucy wasn’t particularly hungry but she wasn’t going to argue with him offering to leave the room.

The second he was out the room, Ona was by her side, leaning down to kiss her lips gently.

“You were so good, and crazy hot,” Ona said, moving some of the sweaty hair out of Lucy’s face while staring into those mesmerising green eyes.

“Thanks bonita,” Lucy said, blushing while pulling the Spaniard down into another kiss, more passionate this time.

“You have fun with Jana’s mum?”

Ona nodded, rubbing circles in Lucy’s palm.

“Mm yeah,” Ona started, pretending she had just remembered something when really it had been at the back of her mind for the past hour. “And I was sat a couple of rows behind a whole other kind of Lucy show.”

“Oh yeah?” Lucy asked, curious.

“Yeah, more of a TikTok edits type of show,” Ona continued, “Alexia’s sister spent most of the second half glued to her phone watching sexy videos of you.”

Lucy grimaced slightly and Ona noticed.

“What’s that look?” Ona asked.

“I do kind of know Sofia,” Lucy admitted, feeling incredibly awkward, looking down at her hands that Ona was still playing with.

“Yeah?”

“Mhmm, we hooked up a few times last year,” Lucy said, now looking up at Ona, not knowing what her reaction would be.

“Oh really? A few?” Ona asked. Lucy had mentioned in one of their late night phone calls that she’d not exactly been a nun since her break up, so that wasn’t surprising. But Ona had got the impression they were all one time things.

“Yeah, a couple parties and couple booty calls, never anything close to serious.”

“How did it end?” Ona asked, she had quite a lot of questions but wasn’t going to ask them, she knew the answers would only feed her jealousy.

“I mean it never really started but I guess the nail in the coffin was when this one girl nearly vomitted on me at a wedding and the other girls suddenly didn’t matter,” Lucy said. She was trying to be cheeky but it didn’t come out as anything but adorable, earning her a playful shoulder shove from Ona.

Before Ona could say anything back, Peter returned with the burgers. Killing the mood but, unlike Lucy, the younger girl was starving so she wouldn’t complain.

“So I have to get a scan tomorrow,” Lucy said to Ona, changing the subject. “Sorry I know we had fun weekend plans.”

“That’s ok, we can still have fun in a hospital waiting room,” Ona said, unwrapping the foil round her burger, the older girl loving that it didn’t even cross the Spaniard’s mind to not be at the hospital with her. “What do you want to do tonight?”

“Well the girls have booked out a part of the hotel for a little fiesta, so we could go to that for a bit so you get to spend more time with that lot, and then we can just hang,” Lucy said with a knowing smile, both girls fully intending to minimise the party time and maximise the “hang” time, but they couldn’t say that in front of Peter.

///

The party was one of the more low key ones for the Barça girls. After all they were still in season and under the watchful eye of their coaches.

Sub groups had formed around the room, which was scattered with tables holding bottles of Prosecco and beer.

Ona and Lucy spent the evening at a safe distance from each other. They knew they’d have the rest of the weekend together so this temporary time on other sides of the room wasn’t a big deal.

They still stole glances and smiles, unable to stop their eyes from wandering to the other every few minutes. That’s why it wasn’t hard for Ona to spot another brunette making her way towards Lucy.

“Sofia, hey,” Lucy said giving her ex-fuck buddy a quick hug.

The younger Putellas held onto Lucy’s arms a second longer than needed. “Hola Lucia, it’s been a while.”

Lucy laughed awkwardly, she didn’t really want to have this chat with Ona nearby, but she’d never be rude enough to just dismiss her. “It has, how have you been?”

“Yeah really good, I just got a promotion at work, and bought my own flat!” Sofia said.

“Wow congrats, look at you go!” Lucy said, honestly happy for the girl. While their connection wasn’t the deepest it wasn’t as if they ended on bad terms or anything. Sofia was just a sweetheart.

Sofia leaned down slightly to stroke Lucy’s bandaged knee, “how is it?”

As platonic and friendly as the conversation felt for Lucy, it looked the opposite to Ona from across the room, who’s eyes were narrowing in on the pair, ignoring Jana and Mapi yapping beside her, not that they noticed.

She stared as Sofia kept touching Lucy’s arm, laughing excessively loudly at anything Lucy said, starting to whisper in Lucy’s ear instead of speaking from a normal distance.

It felt like the temperature in the room had just gone up by 20 degrees as jealousy took over her.

Lucy’s reaction to all this certainly didn’t cause this to cool.

The older girl laughed back, she grinned, she chatted, looking carefree and relaxed. Well carefree and relaxed until she caught Ona’s eyes on her.

Lucy had never seen her look like that before. She stepped back on instinct, reestablishing some distance between her and Sofia.

She recognised the anger, she recognised the lust, but the two in combination was new. Whatever that look was, she’d be lying if she said it didn’t excite her, looking deep into her.

The temperature of the room was now 20 degrees hotter for both of them.

Now Ona had Lucy’s full attention, she couldn’t stop her feet from marching over to the pair.

“Oh hi Ona, are-“ Sofia started, but before another word could be uttered , Ona was barging Sofia out the way and latching her mouths onto Lucy’s, instantly forcing her tongue in.

Once Lucy had got over the initial shock she joined in on the messy kiss. With the younger girl keeping her close with hands on either side of the English girl’s head. Lucy used her hands to grab Ona’s arse, squeezing hard enough to spur on the lust and energy flowing through them.

Meanwhile, they’d obviously attracted the attention of others in the room.

Jana’s jaw dropped to the floor, tapping Mapi incessantly to get her to turn around, who followed suit with the jaw dropping.

“What the actual fuck? Those two? I can’t believe Lucy is the person Ona’s obsessed with,” Jana says, having been on the receiving end of many of Ona’s ramblings about the nameless girl she was seeing.

“Well that explains all the extra Spanish classes she’s been begging for,” Mapi had said, shoving her girlfriend, “see Ingrid, I told you she wasn’t trying to steal me from you.”

Ingrid wrapped a hand round Mapi’s waist, giving it a squeeze. She was relieved her girl wasn’t going to be stolen by the Lucy Bronze but also finding it hard not to be turned on by the steamy kiss in front of her.

Apart from those 3 and Sofia, who was frozen in shock, the rest of the room were too distracted by their own conversations to notice, but they would surely know soon enough now the team’s chattiest members had seen.

Ona pulled back from the kiss, a smug smile on her face as she turned to Sofia, giving a “yeah, sorry” before taking Lucy’s hand and leading them out the room, not giving Lucy’s head time to catch up as she hobbled after her.

After entering the lift, instead of jumping back to Lucy and picking up where they left off, Ona gasped in realisation of what she had just done.

“Shit Lucy,” the Spaniard said, “I don’t know what came over me. I’m sorry I should have asked you before kissing you in front of everyone.”

Lucy was still in shock herself, not really computing what had just happened and why it had happened. All she did know was that she was very into it.

“Shh, come back here,” Lucy said, pulling Ona over to her, who quickly forgot what she was sorry about, pushing the older girl up against the lift mirror and reattaching their lips.

Ona took complete control of the kiss, sucking her tongue, fingers tangled in her hair.

The lift pinged at their floor and Ona resumed her position of dragging Lucy around by the hand.

The younger girl walked straight into their room and over to the bed, ordering Lucy to lay down. They’d be limited on positions with Lucy’s knee, but the Spaniard had plenty of ideas.

Pushing Lucy onto her back and climbing on top, Ona started sucking on the older girl’s neck.

Lucy moaned loudly as she felt the brunette leave marks all over her neck, loving this side of Ona.

“Oh my god,” Lucy uttered out between moans.

“Gonna mark you up and show that bitch you’re all mine,” Ona whispered into Lucy’s neck, sending the older girl’s head into orbit.

Between head spins it dawned on Lucy, that look she didn’t recognise Ona serving her, the reason for the public kiss bombardment, it was all jealousy.

This perfect, beautiful girl was jealous of someone else. If she wasn’t so turned on, she’d laugh.

Once Ona had finished her attack on Lucy’s neck, she made her way down the older girl’s chest and torso, discarding tops and bras as she went, leaving deep red marks everywhere her mouth went.

In a complete change of attitude, the Spaniard switched from possessive to caring mode. She looked up at Lucy to sense any hesitation as she gradually brought her trousers down her legs, not wanting to disturb the knee strapping.

“You ok?” Ona asked, noticing Lucy wincing as the trousers went past her knee.

“Yeah, all good, knee just hurting a bit.”

It wasn’t just hurting a bit, it was throbbing, the pain killers were wearing off. But Lucy was desperate for that not to stop the Ona show that she was living for.

“We don’t have to do this,” Ona said. As much as she wanted to, she didn’t want to hurt her.

Lucy wracked her brain, thinking of what they could do that could still let Ona get this jealous rage out but also not require Lucy to mess up her knee further.

Then it came to her. “You don’t have to say yes but d’you wanna sit on my face?”

“Oh my god,” Ona said, feeling her knickers get soaked at the offer alone.

The way the younger girl quickly ripped all her clothes off gave Lucy the answer she was waiting for, putting a pillow under her head as she shifted herself up the bed.

Ona followed her, crawling up the bed until their lips met again. “I can’t wait to ride your beautiful face,” she whispered in Lucy’s ear, pulling a delicious moan from the girl beneath her.

“Did you ever do this with Sofia?” Ona asked as she repositioned herself, legs straddling Lucy’s face.

Lucy couldn’t help but laugh at the timing of that question coming as she had the world’s best view of Ona, admiring her as she was absolutely dripping.

“Did you?” Ona asked, more forcefully this time.

Lucy thought about her next words very carefully, “you don’t want the answer.”

That was all it took for Ona, pushing herself down onto Lucy’s face.

Taken aback at the speed and force, Lucy grabbed Ona’s arse to establish some stability, not able to resist squeezing it. She pushed her tongue flat to Ona’s pussy, licking up her folds as the Spaniard shuddered above her.

The Spaniard, feeling the control over Lucy that she wanted, grabbed onto the headboard as she started fucking herself on Lucy’s face.

“Fuuuuuuuck,” Ona screamed as Lucy’s tongue destroyed her, causing her to rock even harder, getting everything she needed from Lucy’s mouth while the older girl’s hands ground at her arse.

Lucy tilted her head so her nose to get better friction on Ona’s clit, knowing exactly what the girl needed.

“Oh my god. Your mouth. Never stop,” Ona said, rapidly approaching her high.

Lucy pushed Ona up slightly, enabling herself to breathe for a second and assure the younger girl, “it’s your mouth, and this is my pussy.”

Ona let out an earth shattering moan, Lucy’s words were exactly what her jealous ass needed to hear as the older girl continued to fuck her with her tongue.

Lucy could feel Ona was close, drowning in her wetness, so she sucked on her clit, sending the younger girl hurtling into her orgasm.

Ona cried out again, continuing to rock herself on Lucy’s mouth as the older girl helped her through her high, swallowing everything she could before Ona couldn’t take anymore, lifting herself off Lucy’s face, collapsing next to her.

“Wow,” Ona said, panting, absolutely exhausted.

Lucy wiped Ona’s juices off her face, also panting as she rolled on her side to face the Spaniard.

She held the younger girls face lightly, turning it to face her, looking deep into each other’s completed fucked out eyes.

“You know you’ve got nothing to worry about, right?” Lucy asked. She was grateful for Ona’s jealous side when it led to that, but she had no intention of letting that jealousy carry on any longer.

Ona hummed, staring into Lucy’s warm, reassuring eyes.

Lucy continued, not satisfied that Ona was sufficiently reassured, “in case it wasn’t already abundantly clear, I only want you.”

Ona sighed, it was exactly what she needed to hear and she knew she had been behaving a little extra.

“It’s just not the nicest thing to see,” Ona admitted, “like girl stop drooling over my girlfriend.”

Ona didn’t notice the slip of tongue, but Lucy absolutely did, eyes opening wide in shock.

“What?” Ona asked in response to Lucy’s raised eyebrows, really not computing what had just come out her mouth, until she did.

“Oh shit!” the younger girl said, hand clasping her mouth.

“Your guuuuuuuuurlfriend?” Lucy teased, trying to pull Ona’s hand away from her face.

The Spaniard’s cheeks turned a bright crimson, not made better by being teased.

“Ughh,” Ona said, pushing Lucy away as she tried to tickle her through the teasing coos. “Stop, I take it back.”

“You don’t wanna be my girlfriend?” Lucy said, teasing tone still there but sticking her lower lip out to pout.

Ona shook her head, “no thank you.”

“Suit yourself, shall we head back to the party and see if anyone else will be my girlfriend,” Lucy smirked.

The English girl was absolutely loving this, while the Spaniard was hating it.

“You’re not as funny as you think you are,” Ona said, knowing she was lying but Lucy just knew how to get under her skin.

Too shattered to continue teasing, Lucy dragged Ona towards her by the hips, kissing her gently before pulling back.

“Forgive me Oni,” Lucy pleaded in her cutest voice possible as she placed the younger girl’s hair behind her ears. “I think of you as my girlfriend any way. I was just waiting on you.”

Ona found it impressive how Lucy could go from being the most annoying person on the planet one minute, to the sweetest the next.

“You don’t need to wait, I’m right here with you,” Ona said, bringing Lucy’s fingers up to kiss each of them softly. “And I don’t want to hide it from our friends either.”

“Well I think the hiding it may be out the window now, but I’d like that a lot,” Lucy said, voice starting to drag slightly as the tiredness took over.

“And I especially don’t want to hide it from any of our flirty friends,” Ona said, pushing herself up and straddling Lucy, knees either side of the older girl’s hips.

Suddenly Lucy felt a rush of energy at a naked Ona on top of her. Linking a hand behind Ona’s neck she pulled the younger girl in for a messier kiss, gearing up for round 2.

////

[butterscotchpiesandguys]

Student Becomes the Teacher

It was a familiar experience to me, getting in my car, going to class early, doing homework. Felt nice. Of course what was also familiar was the bullying. You see I had recently gotten fired and had a wake up call. I needed to do something better with my life. So what did I do? i, as someone so smart would do, joined a technical institute. I went into a more financial side though. This did not make me popular with my classmates who had been there longer, were usually older, and most of which were more hands on.

They would call me a nerd, a loser, and a geek. Of course I didn't care all too much about this. Harassment was just that, and quite frankly it was some annoying dumb ass adults who couldn't even think straight enough to get a job that was actually needed. This attitude also made me very unpopular. So unpopular a teacher complained. Why? Cause he had heard some of the stuff me and my field would say about the welders.

It was just stuff like how they're stupid, all have at least one DUI, won't amount to anything. Stuff like that. He went so far to complain to the head administrator of the school. Now he used to be an electrician so he knew how it was to be hands on. He loved hearing about all of this and hatched a plan. The workload for the welders had been pretty overwhelming for just one instructor...

It was only a few days before I heard murmurs of a new instructor coming on campus, of course it was some welder... not like my section could get anything. But that same week I was called into an office at campus. I expected nothing much, maybe an odd thing I lost, although what it was I could not imagine... what I didn't expect was the head administrator.

"Hello [Y/N], we just wanted to talk to you today." Oh god what was it about, he could see how nervous I was. It was humiliating but also I needed to try and keep cool. "We had received some complaints about your attitude towards the welders and electricians, I just wanted to go through a few questions with you, that ok?"

Without knowing what to do I nodded, "Y-yes sir." I gulped a bit.

"Good, so first... is it true you had said to Taylor that he was a... no good stoner with no future? Is that true?" I tried to shake my head no but it went the opposite way. "Ah, glad you were honest with me. Well... you know here we like to give second chances to anyone right?" I shook my head in agreement. "In that case, any felonies you have?"

What felonies? What kind of- "Yeah, actually I've had a dui or two, got arrested for a fight or two... or more." What was I saying?! What the hell?!

"I appreciate your honesty... Tom was it?" What kind of name was that? It wasn't my name at all? Wait why did I nod?! "Yeah, well that's gonna be tough but your students generally would relate. The head administrator smiled at me. "We can wave those away since your track record for your work is pretty good."

"Glad to hear that." I said again in that weird voice. What the hell was happening... why did I suddenly remember welding and shit... What the hell...

"Yeah... I think you'll fit right in, Tom." Why was he being so devilish right now?!

"Thanks man, really need this." I chuckled as I stood up and walked out of the room. "Startin next thursday right?"

"Yup! Just wear somethin like that when you come in! We'll get a shirt in your size soon!" He laughed as I walked out, the window in the door showing a new reflection.

My face was more dashing, a bit older as well. My hair was messy but in an almost purposeful way. My body had grown quite a bit of muscle now... hair as well. Tattoos had been put on my body frivolously! I looked like some typical douche bag!

I walked through the halls, trying to see on my phone what had happened. My background was a picture of a motorcycle. Jessie... what? Who the hell was Jessie? My contacts had some girls in there and some guys I had no clue who they were. Going through the messages they were my drinking buddies and some hookups.

I continued until the electrician teacher stopped to talk. "Hey are you..." I wanted to say my actual name but that didn't pop out.

"Yeah, name's Thomas Wylder. You can just call me Tom though." I smiled at her... it was like my body moved on it's own. "New teacher here, welding." Wait...

We started to talk in the hall for a bit, just about staff in the school and how the welders were. She described them as younger than me and rowdy. I would make douchey comments or state shit about my life. Where I now lived, how many years I had been a welder and in the union. It was like I wasn't even me anymore. Eventually I cut it short, needing to go do some "tasks" at my home.

I went outside to find it... the same motorcycle from the picture. Jessie. I put on a leather jacket and no helmet... I could ride it with no issue though. I was still wondering how or why this happened. It was as if I was... no... the head administrator wouldn't do that would he?

I eventually got back to wherever my home was. Beaten up shithole kinda... not in a good neighborhood either. I waved to a neighbor and went in. Smelt like shit, I reached in my pocket and took out a cig and started smoking... no... I was the worst kind of person. The kind I hated. Dumb, arrogant, douchey, and toxic! It was awful!

2 MONTHS HAD GONE BY

I was now regularly teaching the class, about two weeks into this hellish experience I had started to regain full control of my life. While I tried to actually stop these worse traits, I couldn't. By that point they were ingrained into me. Now I acted like a douchey teacher, the kinds you hate. The ones that will just tease or make fun of nerdy kids. Of course I was well loved by the staff and my students.

I worked as a welder and taught the trade now. I hated it... but it gave me money to pay the lifestyle I never wanted. I don't think I deserved this but... I'm slowly coming around to it. I feel more confident and hey, I even hang out with some of the douchebags I had teach me when I went here... god I sound so old now... I hope someday I can reverse this before it's way too late.

[gay-dorito-dust]

bro a ken x reader where the reader moves to barbieland but she’s got tattoos and he’s got no clue what they are …

The ending to this is absolute arse. Idk what to do.

‘What’s this?’ Ken asked as he gestured to the tattoos you had littered here and there before even more questions followed after. ‘Can they come off? Did someone draw on you like Weird Barbie? If so was it with permanent marker?’ Ken then proceeded to smile, puffing his chest out like a proud bird, ‘I learnt that big word all by myself.’

You chuckled, now realising that ever since you came to BarbieLand there wasn’t a single person in sight who was even remotely as tatted up as you were, and so all of Ken’s random inquiries concerning them made all the more sense. ‘These are called tattoos and no they can’t come off, and I guess you could say that someone ‘drew on me’ but not with a permanent marker pen, but instead a piece of equipment that some might consider a painful process.’ You shrugged. ‘Though that depends on the pain tolerance and the placement of the tattoo.’ The look on Ken’s face was borderline hysterical to you with how wide his eyes became as they trailed over your most recent tattoo as though it’ll jump out and bite him.

‘Did you say painful? Like someone pinching your skin type of painful?’ Ken asked.

‘Hmmm. Think more like being stung a thousand times when in the midst of the outlining of the tattoo, only to then feel like your being scratched repeatedly and all over by a stray cat when they start the shading and or colouring process.’ You told him.

‘So you’re meaning to tell me that you were being hurt!’ Ken cried, retracting his hand away from you as though he was going to cause you more harm, which was something he doesn’t want to have happen. ‘Why would you or anyone ever want to go through that horrible process?!’ He said, voice muffled with his hands clasped over his mouth. You should’ve probably known that Ken would’ve reacted like this but the damage was already done, and yet you couldn’t help but find it sweet when he exemplified concern over your well-being, despite the fact that it was over something as briefly painful as a tattoo.

‘Beauty is pain as they say,’ you began, ‘but I found that once you get your first tattoo, you’ll soon enough want more to add to the collection. Think of it this way, we use tattoos as a way of self expression, some of them can be of something meaningful or something fun and cartoonish and hold no meaning at all other then it looked cool at the time. But I think they quite cool, don’t you Ken?’ The blonde then removed his hands from his mouth, moving himself closer to you as to get a better look at your tattoos in general, just as a smile appeared on his face. ‘They’re so cool.’ He admitted but it was clear he was still a little conflicted about the pain you put yourself through for a tattoo. ‘But they still sound a little frightening.’ He admitted to you with a weak chuckle and you couldn’t do anything but understand and sympathise where he was coming from.

‘Yeah, they can be frightening at first but I promise you Ken, I wasn’t in that much pain for very long, besides I was the one who wanted it done, the tattoo artists were just doing their job.’ You reassured him as you felt his fingers gingerly trace the tattoo, taking in every last detail as he looked at it with a new found perspective. Your tattoos are beautiful to Ken and he’d show appreciation for each and every one by tracing his fingers over it, almost as though he’d ruin the artistry that went into them if he went any harder. He found tattoos fascinating but would probably never get one himself and even if he did, he hoped that this tattoo artist that you talk about could give him a horse portrait, or at least something related to horses at the very least. That would be cool.

[honeytama]

out of control bloodline! matt thoughts some smut 18+ under the cut

ty for @ladyveronikawrites post for making me not be able to think straight

GOD HELP

pics where his sides are showing are probably the closest thing we’ll get to seeing him shirtless and yknow what? i’ll take it. mans probably has an incredible body and i don’t blame him for keeping it to himself 🙂‍↔️✋

LIKE,, loookk at the definition in his ribs and waist area sheesh

i know that there’s sleeveless tees just practical for drumming but something tells me he thinks of them more than that…. he loves the way he looks in them and thinks it’s funny when he has a little nipslip now and again. alsoooo, idk if they sell them like that really? so he cut them himself, what a creative guy w his scissors aw

enough (never enough) about the sides of his torso what about his arms ?? matty i love you and your oversized tees but we only get to see half of your nerd tattoos?? Wtff :( his biceps and shoulders are being hid from the world let them breathe king

he just looks so good

thinking abouttt being gf of bloodline!matt 😢 and attending his rehearsals in the days before shows. he always get a little nervy,, which make him get testy with his bandmates but with you he’s just needy :( he likes to see your face smiling and head bobbing as you sit on the floor across the room from him. he got you a special pare of earplugs with his initials on each one bc he knows his drumming and screaming (I’m fainting) is loud and he won’t risk you having hearing loss due to him :(

imagine running your fingers down his bare sides as you two kiss while he’s on break from rehearsing,, giving him goosebumps mhmm

his bandmates tease him for it, but he just gives them the finger bc he’s got his pretty girl sitting on his thigh while he’s on his drum throne. they all eventually leave you to suck face for what matt knows is going to be a good 15 min. good enough time for him to get you both off !

matt prides himself in his drum set up,, always making sure it’s finely tuned and cleaned just the way he likes…. but he finds more pride in feeling your pussy clench around him while you whine and cry on his dick :/

he has two favorite, practiced, positions,,, ones you were nervous to try at first bc you didn’t want to destroy his drums but you went ahead and trusted his strong drummer arms and large hands to hold you in place.

numero uno ☝️ riding him while he’s on his drum throne,, he lets you lean back and rest your hands on his snare while his hands grip your hips to pull you up and down his cock

he reminds you to wear your favorite skirts btw,, it’s the only way yall can do this quick enough before his buddies are back!

dos ✌️ he likes to take you over the top of his large, floor tom. folded over it and fucking you from behind sigh

it’s great bc the sound proofed warehouse or garage or studio they practice in muffles your screaming and moaning his name,, and hides the sounds of his hands slapping and leaving handprints on your ass as you bounce on him 🙄

but his favorite part and he tells you this,, is how flustered you look afterward as the guys return to get to playing again. while you and matt know that they have no clue about your trysts,,, your humiliation and shyness of the thought of them being able to hear you makes matt F E R A L

he just loves to point out your messed up hair :/ or your skirt that’s just hiked up a lil too high :/ while in front of them!! ugh

[jamneuromain]

For your Lloyd and Secretary one, what if someone who works closely with Brewer finds out about how he died and seeks out for vengeance? And how about he kidnaps and enslaves Secretary and Lloyd has to get her back? But the Secretary thinks that Lloyd would just replace her, even if she had developed some feelings for Lloyd, she still believed that he would leave her. But Lloyd finds her.

Hi nonnies! Sorry for taking so long to write :3

I love your ideas and I present to you--

Out for Blood

Lloyd Hansen x You

Warning: Mob AU, Mob!Lloyd, Secretary!Reader (Driver!Denny Carmicheal), Graphic Depiction of Blood and Violence (I guess Lloyd is a warning of his own?), Reader has hemophobia (fear of blood), a lot of cursing.

W/C: ~5k

Summary: You were captured by a rival gang. Would Lloyd come and save you?

A/N: This is a sequel to A Whiff of Blood, Thank you for all your love to Mob!Lloyd<333

For the record, your hemophobia is directed to blood coming from other people, not your own. You wouldn’t faint or puke if you had a papercut, but you would (and did) puke when Lloyd showed up at your door a few weeks ago, littered with blood and cuts.

Tasting the faint tang of rust and salt from the cut inside your cheek, your tongue inevitably touches the wound in your mouth.

Ouch, it stings.

An almost ridiculous - but somewhat fits the situation you are facing - idea comes to mind.

You hope Lloyd could pay for your dental care if your tooth gets knocked out.

In a dark humid stinky cell, you are obligated to keep yourself from fainting.

How long is it since you’ve been captured? An hour? Two?

You don’t know. Not that the concrete walls give any clues as to where you are and when is it.

Your head is dizzy, and somewhere on the back of your head is throbbing, possibly the spot where someone knocks your head with a baseball bat or a heavy club.

-who the heck still uses a club to beat the shit out of their victims to issue a kidnapping these days? Aren’t they worried about possible brain injuries?

Your hands and feet are tied to a plain wooden chair with zip ties, not something you can get out of without tools and time. Knowing that they kidnapped you and took you to this place, instead of dumping you down the pier with a large stone tied to your feet? You’ve got time, some of them at least. They want something from you, hence the reason why you are alive.

The problem is to rescue yourself before they realize nothing is coming out of your mouth.

So, the real question is, how much time do you have?

Dull thuds of footsteps approach you. After some screeching from the iron bars and the clang of the lock opened by a key, that is supposed to be the cell gate’s composition, you assume, for you are forced in another direction having been tied to the chair, another screeching sound, and the door swings open, entering two men.

They stand before you, one has his hands on his hips, the other crossing his arm.

Think. Your mind goes one hundred miles per hour. Think. Sometimes Lloyd keeps his captives alive, but only when his men are wearing masks. But these two are showing their faces in broad daylight – nightlight, to be precise, since you left the office around 7:30 pm, and later got a smack in the head after having picked up the dry cleaning for Lloyd.

You watched their faces closely. The first man who appears before you is shorter than the other, it is difficult to tell his height when you are sitting on a chair, but you assume he is approximately your height (which is definitely short for an average man), medium build – again, it is hard to tell with his jacket on, you have to conduct most of your analysis base on guesswork. Something about his face looks familiar, however, you cannot pinpoint who or what, since as a secretary, you meet a lot of people daily.

The other guy, the taller one and the more muscular one, doesn’t strike you as someone you know in the past. A hint of tattoo peeks on the back of his hand, a sharp edge with the color of tattoo ink. The beard covers half his face, and that he’s bald, in contrast to his wild facial hair.

“Well, well, well.” The first one smirks, “If it isn’t Lloyd’s pretty thing in our hands.”

Think. They haven’t killed you yet, but they are planning to. Think of something smart. To stall. Or to gather enough information so that Lloyd will know who to revenge on if you are dead.

The hair on the back of your neck practically stands when the word “dead” crosses your mind for a split second.

You cannot panic. Not now. Think.

“You can drop an invitation to my mailbox, y’know? If you wanna talk.” You look up at them. A small smile raises the corner of your lips, but you are not smiling, not really, because your sharp eyes are taking in the minor changes in their expressions.

The first one raises his eyebrows, somewhat surprised, while the second one remains stoic.

“Impressive.” The man compliments, “Thought you would thrash and kick, but I guess you have seen too much of this - ” He gestures to your tied-up position, “working for Lloyd, eh?”

You neither confirm nor deny, yet, you make an attempt at deciphering his intentions, “What is it with this time?” God, you sound like you have been kidnapped twice a week since you got the secretary job. You raise your eyebrows as he does, “Threats to cooperate? Info about his latest business? Or are you two with the FBI?”

They both glance at each other when you mention the FBI.

Good news, they are not cops.

Bad news, they are not cops, which means they are more likely to kill you.

“Hey, you.” You turn your head to the silent bulk of beard, “Didn’t I see you tattling to your badge buddy two weeks ago? Is it what this is about? That I see you tipped off the cops?”

Of course, you haven’t seen the second man tattling to the cops. You don’t know him. But considering the tension ever since you pose the possibility that they are with the police and law enforcement, it is not a bad way to start an argument between the two of them.

That is, hopefully, there are only two that initiated your kidnapping. The plan of brewing a feud among the kidnappers would be more difficult to implement if there’s another person involved.

Under the first man’s continuous stare, the second man huffs out a grunt, grabs your hair in one hand, and lands a blow into your stomach with the other.

“Cука.” He grumbles, stepping back to where he was standing.

If it weren’t for the pain in your stomach, as the blow on your stomach feels like your guts have cracked into four pieces, you would most absolutely jump up from the chair that has you tied, and clap, for he has bared his identity before you, stripping clean.

Thank fuck you know a few curse words in Russian, one of them being “cука”, which means “bitch”.

Russian mob it is.

You know about the Russian mob in LA. A few weeks ago, Lloyd teamed up with one of his business partners to sell illegal substances (a nice way of putting it) and gradually took up the Russian turf. He got shot and was nearly killed after that, when the Russians ambushed him in the clinic he used to go, killing his doctor and one of his men. Lloyd himself barely got out alive and took shelter in your apartment.

Today, around 7 pm, Lloyd took his driver Denny and two of his henchmen to a club he owned to meet the Russians to settle for a truce. As his secretary, you know that he usually conducts his mob business there, instead of in the building where you work. So, you finished up the paperwork and called it a night, while ordering some pizza since cooking would take an additional one hour and a half.

You were on your way home, stopping by on the side of the curb to pick up Lloyd’s dry cleaning when you lost consciousness after a hit in the head.

Oh crap, you would have to send those clothes to the dry cleaning again.

Focus. You take a deep breath, clearing the irrelevant thoughts from your mind. Think smart. How could you subtly prove yourself worthy to them?

“Fine.” You huff out, “You are not working with a badge buddy, I get it.” Adding some sarcasm to the mix, you twitch the muscles on your face, your tone as despising as your expression, “I’m sure what I’ve seen with my own eyes is purely some illusion-voodoo shit.”

Great. Now you sound like Lloyd fucking Hansen.

The first man clears his throat, effectively silencing the grumbling Russian guy.

“Quite a temper.” He pulls a chair from the corner of the cell, sitting in front of you, pointing at himself, then back at you, “You know, we could’ve been friends, you and I.”

“Oh yeah?” You quirk your brow, “What’s stopping ya’? Enlighten me.”

Shit. Too Lloyd.

You are somewhat surprised when he responds per your ask, “If you insist…”

Yeah well, you weren’t exactly insisting (or interested, for that matter, you couldn’t care less). Nevertheless, you nod for him to continue.

“Suza Brewer. Rings a bell?” He smiles, but the friendliness is nowhere to be seen.

Of course, the name Suza Brewer rings a bell. Unfortunately, it’s the bad kind of bell.

Brewer had threatened to have you to himself, and asked Lloyd – not in a nice way – to balance between their deal and you.

… since you are alive and breathing and your limbs are still intact, without a doubt, Lloyd chose you, his faithful employee over the dumb biker Brewer, and fed Brewer to the fishes. You had speculated that there were crocodiles underwater where he disposed of the bodies, because damn, Lloyd’s body-dumping was never found by police forces, or any other people, for that matter, and now you are equally tempted to throw this kidnapper beneath the Westside Pier too.

If only you weren’t tied up like a lamb for slaughter.

“Vaguely.” You pretend to think, tilting your head to the side, even though the back of your shirt is soaked with your cold sweat, “Is he in trouble?”

Hell, Brewer is more than “in trouble”. He’s more like “in crocodile”. His body parts could be swimming along with those hideous beasts, travelling hundreds of miles apart from each other, as you speak.

Somehow, the phrase “in crocodile” has you close to smiling. Especially in this circumstance. Fuck. You are most definitely contaminated by Lloyd Fucking Hansen. You bite the inside of your cheek from actually smiling. As a result, you accidentally bite on your wound.

It stings like a bitch.

The man in front of you speaks softly, “Suza is my brother. And your boss, Lloyd Hansen, killed him.”

This is not going to end well.

You pray to whatever deity that would answer, and hope that you could have a better ending than the Brewer guys. If not, then at least a quick, painless death.

The man observes your face for any expression that could slip away some info, but eventually, he sighs and continues, “So, I decided that I would avenge him, by taking away Lloyd’s most prized possession.”

Ah. Lloyd’s most prized possession would be his gun. He’d spend an hour every day wiping it spotless with a fine cloth, counting the bullets in his gun before popping the magazine back in place. You have heard about a few of the henchmen joking that Lloyd would be more pissed if a man touches his gun, compared to touching his dick,

You have seen the gun on many occasions. Most of the times on his belt, occasionally in his hand, and once, only once on the table when he was dismantling it. But he quickly put it back together seeing you with the pile of paperwork and shoved it back on his belt. Twice, if you are counting the time when he nearly bleeds out in your home.

“Aaaaaaand you want to ask me what his prized possession is?” You pipe up.

That’d be easy. However, you doubt what this Brewer brother had in mind could be this plain and straight.

As far as you know, Lloyd doesn’t have any siblings, parents to account for (he was adopted by a gang member around five, who died in an alley fight a decade later), women that he’d ride or die for (he picks different escorts when he’s in the mood, no one, in particular, meets his eyes), or any offsprings (then your job would be more nanny than a secretary). In fact, you wrecked your brain for the answer to this question, and the truth is, that Lloyd doesn’t care about anyone in any way – apart from the men (and women) working for him. Even so, his expression of “caring” is to drop a generous check if any of them was taken out or quit voluntarily, and never pay attention to them again.

He doesn’t have any pets, neither a dog nor a goldfish to keep him company.

You wonder whether he harbors any feelings at all, except the thrill of being a sociopath.

… maybe he loves his gun in a romantic way, who knows.

“No. I got that part.” Brewer No.2 speaks with a wild glint in his eyes, “And she’s sitting right in front of me.”

You huff out a laugh. This could be the top 1 joke of the Hansen Government Services, that Lloyd sees you as his prize? Pfft.

But the man’s determent tone tells you differently. That he believes Lloyd cherishes you the most. Which means he is going to take you away.

“Don’t believe me?” He shrugs, “My intel snapped pictures of a file, hidden in his top drawer, on top of every shit he has.” Showing the pictures he has on his phone, he added, “You were on that file, Ms. Secretary.”

It was Lloyd’s desk. Dimly-lit, but still, Lloyd’s desk. Someone could burn that desk down to ash and you’d still recognize it. And the file laid bare. With a CV and a photo…

Oh no. Oh shit. It is you.

You’d be lucky as hell if Brewer No.2 simply told you something bad about Lloyd and gave you some money to run far away, as if this is some bullshit mob romance novel. In this situation, he is more likely to skin you alive and send your fingers in a FedEx package to Lloyd’s doorstep as a Christmas present. Or pull out your fingernails before shooting you in the head. Or torture you in the most painful ways possible. Oh God.

The fucking Brewer family and both of these men could go straight to Hell strapped on rabid Cerberus with burning white-hot iron shoes that could not come off.

Think. Think! He hasn’t killed you yet. Why he hasn’t killed you yet? You could be more deader than Suza Brewer who was stuck at the bottom of the pier right now. Why is this Brewer No.2 keeping you alive? What does he want from you besides to intimidate Lloyd?

You have no choice but to ask, “I’m guessing that, since I haven’t got a bullet between my eyes, you want something else too?”

A wicked grin perks up his lips. Handing his phone to your face, he says, “I want you to call him.”

Forget dental care, you now hope Lloyd could pay for a decent funeral.

Brewer No.2 dials the number for you and puts it on speaker. Your heart thumping in your ears, praying that he’d answer. But also praying that he won’t. What if it’s a larger trap to lure him here? You’d rather he doesn’t pick up and get it over with. Plus, he’s too busy to pick up calls, he’s negotiating with the Russians-

“Who’s this?” Lloyd’s sharp voice pierces through the speaker, and seems to have gripped your throat tightly.

Brewer No.2 urges you to speak, but turns out he’s too hyped up to wait for your mumbling lips to make a sound. He drags his tone almost annoyingly, “Hello, Hansen. I’m Levi Brewer, brother of Suza Brewer. I’m here to collect a debt.”

“Oh yeah? Enlighten me.”

That’s so un-Lloyd-like. He’d normally end the call until the person on the other end of the phone could learn to speak what they want directly, which you have witnessed a few dozen times. You can almost imagine Lloyd’s unamused face and his killing glare, having had to deal with Brewer No.2, Levi Brewer.

“You, Mr. Hansen, killed my brother, which is why I’m taking the love of your life away from you.” Brewer No.2 announces, pulling out his gun to flip the safe off. The crisp clicking noise is like a heavy punch to your stomach, declaring the clock of your life ticking towards its end.

Jesus. You? The love of Lloyd’s life? You could’ve sworn Lloyd has a deeper bond to that escort named Cherry than you.

“Say hello to the pretty little thing I’ve just captured.” Brewer slams his palm across your face, squeezing a yelp out of your tightened throat.

The only “pretty” thought about you is that you are pretty sure you are neither “little”, nor “thing”, but that’s a debate settled for another time.

“Say your name, beautiful. I’m sure your boss would catch up soon.” Brewer No.2 points the gun to your face, and places the phone near your lips.

No matter how reluctant you are, you know this might be the only chance where you can tip Lloyd off. And maybe, just maybe he’d revenge on Tweedle Dee by allowing Dee – Brewer No.2 share the same fate as his brother. “Evening, Mr. Hansen.” You mumble, the taste of iron roots deeply in your mouth that you cannot speak clearly, “Sorry to disturb you.”

Lloyd doesn’t reply. He must be mad. Deeply mad at you for ruining his negotiation with the Russians.

Russian? Fuck, the Russian in the room – you spare a quick glance at the silent bulk of beard in the corner – shit, they were in on it together. The Russian mobs asked Lloyd to give you up – nonono, it can’t be, Lloyd wasn’t that good at acting, and considering Levi is sharing this news that you were kidnapped just now, he could be plotting with the Russians.

Does Lloyd know? Your head is messing with your thoughts. Does he know about your abduction? Was he permitting this to happen?

No. Brewer works against Lloyd, which means Lloyd couldn’t have known.

Who should you trust? Was Lloyd generous enough to give you up? Even though he declined Suza Brewer’s deal: you for the business? And fed him to the sharks because he disrespected you?

… probably crocodiles, but who cares at this point.

“Are you hurt?” Lloyd asks.

“Not really.” The tip of your tongue presses against the wound in your mouth, eliciting pain to clear your head – desperate measures for desperate times – and you continue, “I was wondering, though. I think two teeth of mine are loose. Does the employee benefit cover dental care?”

Think, think, think! How can you pass on the message?

Before Lloyd can answer, you take a head start, “Must be one of those Alenka … Alonka Chocolate bars?”

Last Christmas, the Russian mobs sent over a basket of those chocolate bars, Lloyd ordered to have them tested (in case there was poison) and gave them to his employees after they came out clean. But that was about a year ago, and Lloyd saw the wrapping papers in the basket near your seat right before the day ended. He joked about “eating with the enemy” while you admitted the chocolate was not half bad.

There. The message. Loud and clear.

“The dental plan gives you a 10% discount,” Lloyd says calmly. Which is a big fat lie, because no dental plan would be so petty. He wants to say something about 10. But about what? Ten minutes until he’s here? He’d bring ten men along?

“But I won’t tolerate tardiness, sunshine,” Lloyd’s voice sends a shiver down your spine, “Your working hours are nine am to eight pm. Don’t you dare be late.”

Holy Mary and Joseph. First ten, now nine and eight? Lloyd is about to tear this place down in less than ten seconds.

“Enough chitchat.” Brewer No.2 takes the phone back and aims his gun at your face again, “Say your goodbyes. Lloyd Hansen, you are about to hear her final words.”

“My final words?” You lean back onto the chair, steadying yourself with your feet as much as possible, “You really talk too much.”

A loud blast erupts from where the silent Russian is standing. He is most definitely covered in a few dozen kilos of rubbles and bricks. Levi instinctively covers his head, but the blast knocks him to the ground, where he stays unconscious. You are the only one with enough preparations to lower your body, even though being tied to the chair. But you still get thrown over by the blast and the chair collapses underneath your body.

A few henchmen armed to the teeth step through the hole in the wall. After them, Lloyd.

Lloyd in a black coat.

Your ears are ringing, and you can’t tell what he’s trying to say.

Another man with a black briefcase comes to your side. Your pupils were examined, your pulse was checked, and your lungs were listened to.

“… you feel any pain?” The other man asks you.

You shake your head. It hurts a bit in your mouth but that’s just a little cut.

“She’s alright.” The man who appears to be a doctor confirms, helping you up from the ground.

You stand on wobbly legs. The past hour has been too much of a scare that your knees are shaking. You trip over your own feet, before a pair of solid arms steadies you.

“Easy tiger.” Lloyd’s voice booms by your ear, having your head snap in his direction.

He came.

Oh God he came.

Knowing this was a semi-trap, but he didn’t need to be here. He could wait until this is over and give you a proper burial.

And you could’ve died. He could’ve died. You both could’ve died.

You stumble into his embrace, fingers clenching his thick woolen coat.

You probably shouldn’t. He’s your employer, your boss. He’d probably sue you for sexual harassment. But you did.

The blood soars in your ears. You dare not breathe out loud, fearing that you are dreaming.

It feels like a dream. It all did.

“ ’s alright. It’s alright now.” Lloyd murmurs. He runs a hand down your spine, inching your head close to his shoulder.

“How-How did you find me so soon?” Among everything, this is the one you were the most curious about. Yet you dare not look at him. Even if he has just saved your life.

Lloyd narrows his eyes. If you were any other girl, you’d be crying and weeping, and wiping snot on his coat, telling him how much you wanted to be with him the moment you thought you were dying. But no. You were not any other girl.

Fuck.

Long story short, he doesn’t want to elaborate, for you have plenty of time to discuss about this later, “Noticed there was something wrong with the Russians. Then your doorman called.”

“My doorman?” You raise your head to look at him, your brows furrow in confusion, “The guy at the residence entrance? Henry?” While your fingers slowly untangling from his coat.

“He had my number – I’m the last tenant of that condo – told me your pizza came and he couldn’t reach you,” Lloyd explains as simply as possible.

Ah yes. You ended your work around 7pm and ordered pizza…

You make a mental note to thank Henry for saving your life.

A groan drifts to your ear. You turn around on instinct, as Levi Brewer regains his senses.

“Where… I… What…”

In a split second, Lloyd pulls out his gun to shoot him twice in the chest.

A scream gets stuck in your throat, when the crimson blooms in Brewer’s chest.

Your body is shaking, trembling - a natural fear towards the predator behind you.

Brewer crumbles to the ground.

Lloyd lets out a sigh. He puts his arm around you, guiding your hand towards a piece of lukewarm metal. The metal that has just shot Brewer in the chest.

“You have no idea how to shoot, do you?” He asks, but doesn’t expect you to answer. It is a miracle that you are not fainting, he had hoped for far less before arriving.

Wrapping your index finger around the trigger, Lloyd takes a deep breath before flipping off the safe.

“Eye.” He lifts your chin in the direction of Brewer on the ground.

“Arm.” One of his hands steadies your shaking arm into a stable angle.

“Mark.” He lowers the gun point to Brewer’s forehead.

His warm chest against your back, blocking every possible way of escaping. The familiar feeling of having your throat in his hands creeps up your neck, making it difficult for you to breathe.

Your heart thumping loudly, your breath as shallow as it can be, as the warm air coming out of his mouth reaches your ears.

“Aim for the head. And shoot.”

He curls his finger next to yours, and your finger hits the trigger.

The gun is well-positioned, allowing the bullet to dive into Brewer’s forehead, leaving a round of crimson around the bullet hole.

You spin on your heels immediately, fighting the hurling stomach deep down.

The hard piece of metal comes between you and Lloyd.

A gun.

Lloyd’s gun.

You just used a gun to kill someone.

You are never getting a decent job anywhere in the world.

You are going to keep this skeleton in your closet forever (and of course, working for Lloyd until the day you die).

The cold metal burns your palm. You remember about the jokes that Lloyd never allows anyone to touch his gun.

“I… This belongs to you.” You shove the gun into his hands, as if this is some beast that would bite your fingers off if you keep it for one more second.

Lloyd snorts when his prized gun is pushed into his hands. But he doesn’t say another word. He clasps the gun back on his belt before ordering his men to leave.

You follow his troop out of the building in silence. The past hour has been a series of roller-coaster events that you need some time to process.

Denny is waiting in the car when you climb in. While the rest of Lloyd’s men get in a van, Lloyd barks a few orders to them that you haven’t paid attention to. You sit in the car, your back rigid, and you put your hands on your knees like a pupil in class.

Denny offers a sympathetic smile when your eyes meet in the rear-view mirror. He isn’t the type to talk, serving as Lloyd’s driver. But he’s nice enough to hand you a bottled water from the glove compartment, which you take with a murmured “thanks” and clench it with your knuckles turning white.

The adrenaline fades from your blood system, and your heart beats in a stable rhythm, your breathing finally adjusts itself to slow inhales and exhales.

The bruises on your wrists and ankles are scorching in pain. The back of your head is hurting too. Luckily, none of your bones is broken, which could be the best news of this evening.

This feels way too familiar.

As Lloyd opens the car door, your heart jumps to your throat again.

You are worried. Worrying about he’d fire you, thinking you have leaked information to the Brewer guy. Worrying about you have touched his gun, using it to kill someone, no less, and he’d cut off your hand for using it. Worrying about Lloyd would be dead if he steps into a trap with you as bait, that Levi Brewer intended to kill him…

Why the fuck are you worrying about Lloyd? He’s perfectly fine taking care of himself. It is you who needs extra self-defense lessons.

“What… Um, what happened to the truce you went to negotiate with the Russians?” You can’t help but ask, knowing that the dead Russian who kidnapped you was dragged out of the rubbles and put into a body bag, heading in another direction on the van that had Lloyd’s men on it.

“It was a trick,” Lloyd grumbles, “to stall. We agreed upon no phones, so it took me a while to get the call from that doorman. Then I knew they were trying to stall me from getting to you.”

You were whacked when you had just picked up the drycleaning for Lloyd. “-my car, and my – your clothes -” You remember.

“-were taken care of.” He picks up where you left off, “I’m assigning you an assistant, Claire. She’s living next door. She has driven your car back to the garage, and sent the clothes to dry cleaning as well.”

“An assistant? I don’t need an assistant.” You argue, “I can work fine on my own.”

“And get knocked out on the street in the middle of the night?” Lloyd snorts impatiently, “She’s there to protect you, but ask her to pick up the coffee, take out the trash, and drive the car for you, I don’t care. Claire would be by your side when I’m not close enough to save your ass.”

Ah. So you are a liability to him.

Maybe you weren’t suitable for a mob secretary at all.

You were no prized possession, as Brewer claimed to be.

And he’s your boss. You should feel lucky to be alive instead of mulling over whether he treats you special or not.

“Yes, Mr. Hansen.” You collect your feelings. It is perfectly normal for him to assign you a bodyguard/assistant. Hell, it’s even perfectly normal that he wants to fire you for your incompetence. Hiring an assistant? He doesn’t want you to get kidnapped again, that’s all.

… or replace you when she gets the gist of your job.

You think bitterly, staring at the tinted window.

“By the way, you don’t have to come to work tomorrow.” Lloyd casually tells you, “Paid leave, and it’s Friday anyway, you deserve some time off after this …” He carefully considers the choice of words, “… incident.”

“Thank you, Mr. Hansen.” You reply automatically.

It is such a weird thing that you let out a small exhale of relief when you heard the word “paid leave”, as if he would’ve thrown you off the car and told you that you are fired right after saying you don’t have to come to work.

Lloyd isn’t so ruthless after all.

Your heart beats faster, hopeful for …

What are you hopeful for?

You kick the ridiculous thought into the corner of your mind, answering, “I’ll be back on Monday.”

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