#the only answer to that is inherited wealth

[mendellyill]

Sam assuming you are also a nepo baby will never not be funny to me. Like really the only valid reaction to someone with as much main character syndrome as the spacefarer is to assume they're a nepo baby.

[dirtyvulture]

The Maid

Socialite!Wanda Maximoff x Beefy!Rich!Reader*

Maid!Natasha Romanoff x Beefy!Rich!Reader*

18+ only, read at your own risk

Word count: 4663

Summary: You are married to a wealthy socialite, but your newly hired housemaid doesn’t approve of the marriage.

AN: I was reading a book series and got this idea. Enjoy!

*Reader has a penis, no pronouns used.

“I still don’t think it’s a good idea,” you say, poking at the sad bowl of cereal before you.

“Why not?” Your wife frowns at you from across the kitchen.

“Because we’re doing fine! We don’t need any extra help,” you emphasize.

“You’re not the one stuck at home all day cleaning the house and cooking all the meals,” she snaps. Your eyes shift to the bowl of cereal you’d had to make yourself because she was too busy at her pilates class to cook you anything more substantial. 

“This house is huge compared to our old one,” your wife continues. “And if you’re not going to help me around here, I’m going to hire someone who will.” Annoyance burns in your chest because you run your own company full-time, and your wife inherited all her wealth from her parents and hadn’t worked a real job in her entire life. “Besides, Steve’s the one who recommended her and he said she’s been really helpful to his family.”

“You seem to spend a lot of time talking to Steve,” you note, although you feel guilty for calling out your neighbor across the street. You’d spoken to him a few times and he seemed like a decent guy, but you weren’t stupid enough to not notice how often your wife would find her way over to his lawn multiple times a week.

“You’re at work all day and don’t answer your phone half the time,” she says. “You don’t expect me to stay in this gigantic house all by myself doing chores, do you? I’m not a house servant, Y/N.”

“No, of course you’re not,” you apologize. You glance at the Omega watch that had been an engagement gift from your wife. “Hey, I have to get going to work now.” Dutifully, you bring your bowl over to the sink and stop to kiss your wife on the way there. “I’ll see you later, honey.”

“Remember, the pool guy is coming at noon so you need to be back before then,” she says. “I don’t want to be left by myself with him.”

“Okay, I’ll try.” You’re not sure why she’s so nervous around the pool technician; he was about 30 years older than the both of you and had been very sweet and professional when he came to give you a quote for the maintenance.  

“No, don’t try. Do it,” she insists.

You try to hold in your sigh. “Yes, dear.”

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

Natasha curses to herself as she drags her vacuum cleaner and basket of cleaning supplies up the sidewalk to your home. Your wife–Mrs. L/N, as she had asked Natasha to call her, while you had no problem being on a first name basis with her–had told Natasha she didn’t want her parking in front of your house, requiring her to park around the corner. Which wouldn’t have been a significant issue except it meant Natasha had to lug everything to your house every time she stopped by.

“Do you need any help, Nat?” Steve Rogers, the friendly neighbor whom she also worked for, waved at her from across the street.

“No, no, I’m fine!” she squeaks, not wanting to bother him. But Steve, ever the gentleman, runs over anyway and she has no choice but to turn over her supplies to him. 

“You know, you can always just park in front of my house,” he offers, bundling the items in his muscular arms.

“That’s okay,” Natasha says. “Mrs. L/N made it very clear that as much as she needs my help, she doesn’t want people to know I’m here.”

Steve doesn’t argue with her and walks her to your front door. “Well, if you ever need anything–”

“Natasha! You’re late!” The front door swings open and Natasha finds herself face-to-face with your wife. “Oh, hello, Steven.” She flips her hair over her shoulder and bats her eyelashes at him. “Didn’t expect to see you here.” 

“I was just helping Natasha with her things,” Steve explains.

“Oh, don’t worry about her. She can handle herself. Right, Natasha?” She turns a judgmental eye on Natasha.

“I appreciate the help, Steve,” is all Natasha says.

“You’re welcome. See you both later!” He quickly jogs back to his home. 

Mrs. L/N ushers Natasha into the house. “I left a grocery list on the kitchen counter for you. If you can’t find something, please call me before you pick any substitutions,” she instructs briskly. “I have to go out to the HOA meeting, but Y/N should be home by noon before the pool man comes. Do not let him into the yard if Y/N or me are not home yet, understand?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Natasha nods her head, fighting the urge not to roll her eyes at this lady.

“Good.” She leaves towards the garage and Natasha can hear the purr of her Mercedes starting up.

It was Natasha’s second week working for your family, and she hated nearly every second of it–mostly because of your spoiled, bratty wife. But the few times Natasha had met you, she thought you were as kind and charming as could be (and very nice to look at). She wondered how the two of you had gotten together in the first place and what you saw in your wife. She was one of the bossiest clients Natasha had ever had, and Natasha had seen her be not much nicer to you. Plus, she was definitely hitting on Steve, but Natasha knows he wouldn’t cheat on his wife with yours.

She dumps her supplies in the foyer, then goes into the kitchen to find the grocery list. It only takes a single glance to know that your wife is totally fucking with her–what the hell is a rambutan? Natasha sighs loudly, wishing there were someone around to hear her distress. As much as she wants to quit working for your family, she needs the money. And she was still so new to the business, she couldn’t afford to make any bad impressions. 

With another sigh, she balls the grocery list into her fist and heads back out.

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

Natasha returns from her grocery trip just in time to see you pull into the garage in your bright green luxury sports car she doesn’t even recognize the manufacturer’s logo of. You get out and wave to her and she smiles back, almost forgetting the awful phone call she had to make to your wife when she searched the entire store and still couldn’t locate the rambutans (she ended up having to make a separate trip to Whole Foods for them). 

“Hi, Natasha!” you say, running down the driveway to help her with the grocery bags.

“Oh, don’t worry about these,” Natasha says, trying to swat your hands away. “It’s my job to take them into the house–”

“No, let me help,” you insist, scooping up four bags in one hand in one go. “Oh! Rambutans. These are my favorite. Thank you for finding them.” 

Instantly, Natasha wants to take back all the curses she had put on the spiky red fruit. “It was nothing,” she lies, making a mental note to buy out the store’s entire stock for you the next time she goes.

With your help, it takes half the amount of time to get all the groceries in the house. You also insist on helping her put everything away, showing her the proper drawers in the fridge for the fruit and vegetables versus the meat, and where the cereals went in the pantry. Natasha is beyond grateful for you; she knows your wife would have happily stood there and watched her struggle, then loudly criticized her for not knowing better.

“Thank you, Y/N,” she says, her hand inadvertently brushing yours when you pass her the last bag of apples. She withdraws from you almost too quickly, her skin hot where you touched her, but you don’t seem to notice, distracted by the ringing of the doorbell. 

“That must be Stan.” You dash off to meet the pool man. 

Natasha fills the dishwasher as much as she can and starts in, then goes to finish washing the oddly-shaped pots and pans that didn’t fit in the sink. The kitchen window looks out to your yard that is probably bigger than the footprint of her entire apartment complex. The pool has two different levels, but both are filled with a suspicious green water. You’re standing poolside talking to Stan, an older gentleman whom Natasha personally knew to be very kind from her few interactions with him when he conducted work on the neighborhood pool’s. 

She’s so busy looking at you, fantasizing about a life where this big house could be hers, with a doting partner who would take care of her and raise a family with her, she doesn’t hear the front door opening until she hears the unholy screech from your wife.

“Natasha, what are you doing?” she yells, hurrying over and snatching the soapy sponge right out of Natasha’s gloved hand.

“Um–the dishes? They didn’t all fit in the dishwasher–”

“You turned on the dishwasher?” Her eyes grow wide and her mouth drops like Natasha’s just confessed to a murder. “Didn’t I tell you we don’t run the dishwasher before seven p.m.?” Natasha is certain she’s never heard this instruction before in her life and watches as she rushes over to turn off the dishwasher mid-cycle and throw it open. “Also, you didn’t pack this correctly, you definitely could’ve fit those pots in here.”

“I’m sorry, I’ll rearrange it now,” Natasha says, trying not to get flustered. Surely your wife wouldn’t fire her over such a minor transgression, would she?

“Is Stan here yet?” she asks, but before Natasha can answer, she is interrupted by a shout and a splash. Both of them crane their necks to look out the window, where they can see Stan floating facedown in the pool. You’re kicking your shoes off and throwing your phone onto the lawn before you run up to the pool’s edge and dive in with a form that would rival an Olympic swimmer’s. Your wife screams and darts towards the back door, Natasha following right behind her.

“Y/N! What are you doing?”

“He fell in!” you answer, coughing out water as you loop your arms under the elderly man and kick back towards the stairs. “He just zoned out when he was talking to me and suddenly tipped over into the pool. I think he’s having a seizure.”

“I’ll call 911!” Natasha offers, not wanting to be as useless as your wife. She struggles to get her phone out of her pocket and punches in the number with shaky fingers.

Your wife hovers by the pool stairs, making no move to assist you as you struggle to drag the old man out, clearly weighed down by the water drenching both of your clothes. Stan is holding himself in a position so stiff it reminds Natasha of a mannequin. 

“Ugh, don’t get me wet, Y/N!” your wife complains as the brackish water sprays everywhere.

“I’m trying not to!” you snap, gently laying Stan on the grass.  

“Nine-one-one, what is your emergency?” a dispatcher picks up.

“Hello? Yes, I’m at 2800 Sherwood Drive. There’s a man here who fell into the pool and we just got him out, but he’s having some kind of medical episode,” Natasha says, putting her phone on speaker. The dispatcher asks if he’s breathing and you confirm. 

“Can roll him to his side and stabilize his head?”

Without hesitation, you peel off your shirt and roll it into a soggy ball, gently tucking it under the man’s head like a makeshift pillow. Natasha tries not to stare at your nicely sculpted torso, highlighted further by the water droplets on your skin, but her face burns in shame when she sees your wife glaring at her ogling.

“Okay, his head is stabilized!” you call out.

“Perfect, emergency services are two minutes away.”

“Thank you.”

It’s a big scene at the house by the time the ambulance pulls up. Your wife eventually covers you up with a towel, but you’re insistent on waiting outside for Stan to be carefully loaded into the ambulance before you finally allow your wife to usher you back into the house, still dripping water everywhere.

“Thank you for the help today, Natasha,” you say, reaching out to give her shoulder a gentle pat as you walk by her towards the house. Natasha doesn’t even know how to respond but nods furiously and mumbles that “she didn’t help much.”

“You can go now, Natasha,” your wife says curtly, and Natasha doesn’t question her and practically flees the premise.

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

It’s been a few weeks since the pool incident and Natasha is barely able to hold onto her sanity with the never-ending list of ridiculous tasks from your wife. When she holds a fundraiser meeting for a charity Natasha is sure she made up on her own, she calls on Natasha as her personal servant, forcing her to serve a collection of the snobbiest women in the neighborhood. Maybe I should take up meditation, Natasha thinks to herself as she prepares a third pitcher of iced tea because the first two “did not have the right balance of sugar to tea,” according to your wife, despite that Natasha had put in exactly one-third cup of sugar as requested.

Natasha doesn’t see you much around the house anymore, and she wonders if your wife purposely scheduled her around your work hours, or told you to stay away from her. She wants to ask you if there were any updates about Stan’s condition (there was no way she was going to get that information from your wife). She missed hearing your voice and seeing your smile…wait.

She shakes her head–she shouldn’t be thinking about you like that. You’re her employer and you’re married (to a bitch). It would be entirely inappropriate and dangerous to pursue you, so she would just have to make do with ogling you from afar. Besides, a lot of her clients did not show her respect, likely due to the nature of her job, so just because you were courteous and respectful towards her, didn’t mean you felt a specific way about her.

“You know, Y/N used to be fat.” Natasha startles when your wife walks up behind her. She almost drops the picture frame she’d been dusting of the two of you on a beach, holding hands as you walked towards the sunset in the background.

“Excuse me?” Natasha asks. 

“Fat and poor,” Mrs. L/N adds, much to Natasha’s horror. 

“That’s an awful thing to say about your partner,” Natasha says.

She shrugs. “I don’t want anything to be sugarcoated for you. All of this–” She gestures around to the grandiose-ness of the house, and points to a more recent photo of you, where you’re carrying your wife in your arms, the bulge of your biceps and wideness of your shoulders stretching out your shirt. “–was not a thing when we first started dating. I was there when Y/N had nothing and was no one.”

“Okay.” Natasha wonders why she’s acting like she did you a favor, when you are clearly the catch in the relationship. But then it suddenly dawns on her the reason she’s saying this is because she knows Natasha might have a small crush on you.

“Y/N would never leave me, because I was there from the beginning,” Mrs. L/N says loftily.

“Of course,” Natasha says, fearing she has made a terrible mistake. “Y/N must be very lucky to have you.”

“You have no idea,” your wife smirks. “So let me be a reminder to keep things professional in my house. I’d hate for you to lose your job here. As far as I know, this is the only neighborhood that employs you, and your reputation is everything, isn’t it? One bad review could spoil the whole bunch, and you’d be off having to peddle your services elsewhere.” Icy fear pits at the bottom of Natasha’s stomach. “That is, if the police don’t pick you up first.”

“What are you talking about?” Natasha whispers, even though she knows exactly what Mrs. L/N is talking about. She had been foolish to assume her past would never follow her, but how could your wife have found out? Clint had assured her that with a new name and a new location, she’d be untraceable. 

“Because they’d have to arrest you from stealing Y/N away from me,” Mrs. L/N laughs shrilly. Natasha chuckles nervously, although she was certain adultery was not a punishable offense in the state. “But I’m just joking. That would never happen, right?”

“Never,” Natasha promises, hoping her cover will stay hidden for now. 

“Good.”

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

“How was your day at work, honey?”

“Busy,” you grunt, moodily poking at the chicken pot pie Natasha had made before she went home. The food tastes good–it’s better than anything your wife has ever cooked, you think privately, but you don’t have much of an appetite. The end of the financial quarter was rapidly approaching and it had become extremely apparent to you that the profits of your company were not outweighing the expenses for the third quarter in a row. You were digging yourself a bigger and bigger grave, dipping into your personal investments to pay your way out of debt. It was the most stressful period of your life, with no relief in sight, and your wife wouldn’t understand the pressure.

“Sorry to hear that,” she says, although her words don’t come across as very genuine. “My day wasn’t so great either. I got into an argument earlier with Mrs. Harkness at the HOA meeting.” Your wife clicks her tongue. “Some of these women will go to war over their lawn decorations, I swear.”

A jab bubbles on the tip of your tongue; was she really trying to compare an HOA meeting to your very real, very stressful job running a business? But you stay quiet, shoveling another spoonful of pot pie into your mouth.

“Where’s Natasha?” you ask. Usually she stayed around for dinner (not that your wife would let her sit at the same table as you), but you hadn’t seen her in the house for a while.

“I ran out of time today, so I sent her out to grab some things for tomorrow,” she answers. When Natasha had first been hired, you had been under the impression that she was exclusively a housekeeper, helping with all the household chores your wife couldn’t complete. But you had heard about her running grocery trips and waiting on your wife and her friends during meetings, turning Natasha into more of a personal assistant than anything. You hoped she was okay with that; you knew how demanding your wife could be sometimes.

“Oh, okay.” You finish your helping of pot pie in silence, then go to place your plate in the dishwasher, before going into the bedroom to retire for the night. As you’re washing your face in the sink, you hear your wife pad up behind her.

“Sorry you’ve been really stressed lately,” she says, rubbing her hand up and down your arm. 

“It’s not your fault,” you respond, drying your face on a towel, going back into the bedroom to find your pajamas so you can take a shower.

“Y/N.” Your wife stops you as you’re searching through the dresser for your pajamas. When you look at her, she’s eyeing you with her bottom lip between her teeth. She struts towards you, slowly sinking to her knees and looking up at you. “Maybe I can do something to make you feel better?” 

With you being so busy with work and her busy with the new move, the two of you hardly had time for each other. Plus, your wife tended to be on the particular side and never seemed to be in the mood if you initiated. It was a little frustrating sometimes, but you found ways to cope and besides, it did make the times she was ready for you all the more enjoyable.

She pulls down your pants, palming at your boxers and causing you to groan. You unbutton your shirt as you feel your body start to heat up and let it slide off your shoulders. 

“Fuck, don’t tease me,” you grunt when she leans forward and nibbles on the exposed flesh of your thigh. 

“You need to savor the moment,” she says, although you can tell she’s just as impatient when she hooks her fingers into the waistband of your boxers and draws them down to the floor. Your heavy cock bobs out, slapping against your abs before your wife grabs onto it and brings it to her mouth. 

“Fuck, baby,” you moan, tipping your head back when you feel her lips wrap around your cock. You wrap your hand in her hair, pumping your hips forward to sink your length into the heat of her throat. She grips onto your thighs to steady herself, the faintest of choking noise escaping her. You grunt in satisfaction, thrusting a little harder until the tip of your cock bumps the back of her throat. She whines louder, but doesn’t pull away, and your knees are practically shaking at the sight of her deepthroating all of you.  

“You’re doing so well,” you praise and her cheeks flush red. “Are you gonna let me finish in your mouth?” you ask, and she nods in response, the movement causing a burst of pre-cum to leak out of your cock. You stroke a stray hair out of her face so you can look into her eyes when you finish. “That’s my good girl.”

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

Natasha lets herself into your home, juggling three heavy bags that she’s pretty sure are cutting off the circulation to her fingers. She passes by the kitchen, confused to see it empty; when she had left the two of you were just settling down to eat. She puts the bags by the foot of the table, recalling the time Mrs. L/N had screamed at her for putting “dirty outside bags” on the place where you ate. She wouldn’t make that same mistake again.

Checking her phone, Natasha sees that your wife had sent her a text less than five minutes ago.

Natasha sighs. It had already been a long day, but she wasn’t given an ounce of leeway. She knows better than to walk away from an unfinished task (especially around your wife), so she trudges up the stairs and turns into the guest room. Hopefully her presence can go unnoticed, and your wife will magically find the folded clothes long after Natasha is gone. 

There are a total of three shirts and a pair of jeans left to fold. Natasha knows it would be too much to ask your wife to do on her own. She grits her teeth and folds the clothes, taking the better part of a minute, then looks around and realizes she doesn’t remember where she put the laundry basket. 

Maybe she had already brought it to the master bedroom, but she knew she couldn’t just leave it on the guest bed, or your wife would probably fire her. Natasha gathers up the clothes and walks down the hall to the master bedroom, but freezes in her tracks when she hears noises coming out of the bedroom.

Moaning noises, specifically.

Natasha can’t stop herself as she moves closer to the door, positioning herself to peer through the crack in between the door and the wall. She sees your wife on her knees, her head bobbing against your waist as you stand there, half-naked, moaning and thrusting your hips forward.

Natasha feels like she can’t breathe, totally shocked and embarrassed to have caught the two of you in a moment. She has a strange sense that your wife had set her up like this on purpose, but the thought quickly dissipates as she finds herself moving closer to the door.

“That’s my good girl.”

Natasha’s stomach flips when she hears you say this, even though it isn’t directed to her. But maybe one day it could be. 

She’s practically pressed up against the door, the fear of being caught burning away in her eagerness to keep watching you. The way the muscles in your stomach and thighs flex as your hips roll in a sinful rhythm. Natasha is almost ashamed at how fast she feels the arousal building in her own stomach.

You grunt louder and slow down as you seem to near release. Natasha can’t help but wonder what you must taste like and if she could even fit you down her throat. Your wife seems to be struggling with your size, but Natasha would do everything in her power to make you happy and not let any drop go to waste.

Without warning, your wife removes you from her mouth. Both you and Natasha gasp–you probably in frustration, and Natasha because she’s shocked at how big you are. Your cock is shiny with saliva and pre-cum and is so hard it looks like it’s about to burst.

“I didn’t finish,” you whine as your wife stands up, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. She puts her hand on your chest and pushes you back until you stumble onto the bed.

“I know. But I don’t want you to finish in my mouth, I want you to finish inside me.”

“Oh.” Your wife takes off her pants and climbs onto you.

Natasha knows how wrong it is for her to stand there and continue watching. She should’ve left a long time ago. But somehow, she knows your wife set her up to see this, and instead of running away in shame, Natasha is totally absorbed and her obsession with you only skyrockets. 

The headboard creaks against the wall as your wife rides you, both of you moaning in unison. Natasha’s eyes are stuck on you, trying to memorize your body’s reactions and wondering if she’d ever be the cause of them one day. You tilt your head back into the pillows, your back arching off the mattress, your hands wrapped around your wife’s waist as you thrust up into her. 

“I’m ready. I’m gonna cum,” you announce breathlessly.

Natasha hopes you’ll say those words to her one day. But she turns away as you finish, scolding herself for her unprofessional and frankly creepy behavior. She drops the folded clothes to the floor, knowing your wife will eventually find them and know of their origin. Maybe she’ll get fired for this; if anything, it’d be for the better. She doesn’t trust herself to be around you anymore–not that she’d ever be so bold as to make a move and disrespect your marriage, but she’d never be able to look at you the same way again.

She quickly pads down the stairs and leaves the house, the emptiness in her heart and core almost reaching a painful point.

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

You jerk your hips up a final time as you cum, dropping back onto the bed exhausted and spent. 

“Hmm, that was fun,” your wife pants against your neck, and you wrap your arm around her tightly, pulling her closer to your body. 

“We can shower together?” you suggest, digging your fingers teasingly into her naked hips. 

“Sure. Give me a minute.” She lays her head on your chest.

Despite your differences, you were truly happy to have this woman by your side through it all. She had been your longest supporter and that had meant everything to you when no one else believed in you.

You kiss her forehead softly. “I love you, Wanda.”

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

AN: Actually screaming and crying. Nat please come save us 😭

Click here for Part 2!

@holiday-house-of-m I finally kept my promise to you after 84 years.

Please like, reblog, and comment! Follow for more content. 🥰

[smoketransformer]

Forever Vacation

Vinny was a good looking guy, there was no doubt about that, and he knew it. Hooking up with chicks was easy for him. He partied all the time, which caused his grades to fall behind and he was recently kicked out of college.

This didn’t stop him for going down to Miami though for Spring Break. He was going to be staying with his billionaire uncle who was paying his way through college. Vinny was close to his Uncle Marco; after his parents passed away in an accident during high school, Uncle Marco took Vinny in for a few years. Vinny always figured he would inherit his Uncle Marco’s wealth as he was the closest family member to him. He didn’t need an education when he had Uncle Marco.

Uncle Marco had his personal driver pick up Vinny from the airport.

“Where’s Uncle Marco?” Vinny asked the driver.

“Had a work trip to go to. He’ll be back tomorrow evening,” the driver answered.

After a half hour drive, Vinny arrived at his Uncle’s mansion. It always surprised him the size of the place, and he got to enjoy it all to himself.

Vinny walked in and felt like he was back at home. It smelled of stale cigar smoke, but clean at the same time. His Uncle was a huge cigar aficionado and was almost always seen with one.

He headed to one of the guest bedrooms to unpack his things.

As he was unpacking, he noticed a note on the dresser and began to read:

‘Nephew,

The Dean informed me that you were kicked out. I’m very disappointed in you. I know you think you are here for vacation, but you’ll need to look for work while you are here since you won’t be going back. If you are going to live here, then you are going to be pulling your weight. I worked hard and you need to learn how to as well.

I will be back tomorrow evening. We will discuss your future plans then.

Signed, Uncle Marco

P.S - Stay out of my liquor cabinet and humidor.’

Instead of feeling like he disappointed his uncle, he felt anger. His uncle is retired and gets to enjoy life, but he can’t. Vinny decided he was going to live it up while his Uncle was away.

Marco got his swimsuit on, poured himself a nice glass of scotch and grabbed himself a cigar from his Uncle’s prized stash.

He only had one cigar in his life. His Uncle taught him how to cut and light it on the night of his high school graduation. His Uncle told him it was one of his “cheap” ones since he wouldn’t fully enjoy his special premium ones. Today though, Vinny was going to smoke a real cigar.

The afternoon passed as Vinny laid by the pool with his drink and cigar. Vinny was really enjoying one of his Uncle’s cigars. “I could get use to this,” he thought to himself.

The afternoon turned into the evening. After ordering a pizza and finishing off the bottle of scotch, Vinny passed out in his bed.

The next morning, Vinny felt ill and hungover. He headed to the bathroom to splash his face. When he looked in the mirror, he noticed something different.

“Did I shave last night?” he mumbled to himself. He now sported a short mustache. He was also more tan and noticed he looked a little more fuller. He chalked it up to being outside all day and drinking.

He went back to bed and after a few more hours of rest, he decided to go down to the beach and get some girls’ phone numbers. He put on his swim trunks, which seemed a little tighter, and a button up shirt. He grabbed a few of his Uncle’s cigars and placed them in the front shirt pocket. He felt like he looked like a million bucks; meeting a few hot chicks will be easy.

Vinny walked down to the beach, but it was a little tough. It was hard to catch his breath, but it must have been the heat.

Once he got to the beach, he lit up one of the cigars and smoked it as he laid in the sand.

A couple of college girls, who also were celebrating Spring Break, walked by.

“Looking good ladies,” Vinny called out. The two girls glared at him and said “Creep.”

This was unusual. The ladies never reacted to him that way, but shrugged it off.

As Vinny smoked his cigar, he got up and noticed his button up shirt was uncomfortable, so he unbuttoned it. It felt a lot better. He decided to post a selfie to instagram. When he looked at himself through the front camera, he didn’t even recognize himself. His mustache grew in thicker and larger. He even was thicker and larger. He noticed his gut was also protruding. Something was wrong.

He called an Uber to get back to his Uncle’s place. Vinny was frantic, what was wrong with him. He looked like he aged 20 years. He felt like he aged 20 years.

When the Uber dropped him off, he noticed his Uncle was already home. Naturally, he reached for the other cigar in is pocket, stuck it in his mouth and lit it up. Vinny felt a sense of relief.

He walked in the front door in a hurry but was out of breath. As he tried to catch his breath, he continued to puff on his cigar. Each pull of the smoke seemed to calm him down even more.

“Uncle?” he called out, but his voice was unrecognizable to him. It was deeper and more rough.

“I see you got into my cigars, old man,” Uncle Marco walked into view. Uncle Marco was a large man, with an even larger mustache. His skin was tan and wrinkly, from all his years on the beach and by the pool.

“Old man?” Vinny asked, worried. He still had his cigar in his hand.

“I told you not to, but I guess you don’t have to worry about working now that you are retired,” Uncle Marco tried to reassure his nephew. Uncle Marco approached Vinny and put his hands on his shoulders to turn him around to face a mirror.

The reflection of the two of them looked almost identical. They could have been brothers. Vinny was now an old man with grey hair and a large double chin.

Vinny couldn’t do anything about it. He had aged quickly. His uncle told him that his special cigars had that effect on people and that it couldn’t be undone.

It took Vinny sometime to get use to his new life, but he started to enjoy it. He got to relax out with his Uncle all the time. He needed to smoke as much as him as well, as the couple of cigars he smoked were very addictive. He didn’t care about getting chicks anymore. All he wanted were his cigars and scotch. He and his uncle would smoke 5-6 cigars a day together; they always were smoking.

He was content and happy with his new retired life. He felt that it was the forever vacation he always wanted.

[osakhee]

10th floor, ceo!sungchan x reader

! blowjob, sir kink?

you arrange your shirt nervously, your leg bouncing on the wooden floor. you really need that job. you already went through two interviews, but the company you applied is quite luxurious, and after meeting managers and the head of the human ressources, you were urged to meet the ceo. you heard he was the one actually making decisions for the workers, and he's the last wall between you and that very important job.

even though you know the famous company by name, you never heard of jung sungchan. the young owner inherited everything from his father after his passing, making a huge difference in the harsh business environment due to his age. the company never flourished this well since sungchan's new ceo position. all you could recall from the words of the managers is that he's great at making people fall for him and his traps to make his wealth grow bigger.

your appointment with sungchan is planned in less than 10 minutes. you're early, and now the time seems like it's ticking slowly enough for you to die at least twice on the chair. the corridor that's connected to sungchan's office is quiet and you could only hear your -almost- steady breathing and the faint voice of a man on the other side of the door.

your eyes travel the papers in your hands, the review letters from your past interviews, you read the positive sentences over and over again. you believe in yourself for this job. you almost jump from the chair when you hear the doorknob then the door open. your eyes meet jung sungchan's, and you immediately get what the workers you met meant when they told you the ceo makes all the heads spin.

he's much taller than you expected, an annoyingly pretty face with serious yet soft eyes, a faint smile making him look even sweeter. sungchan steps out of his office and stands in front of you. you immediately get up from the chair.

"i think we have a little interview together, right?"

"yes... sir... i'm here for the job."

"i heard about you, the managers gave me great feedbacks. you're quite a pretty thing."

the words get stuck in your throat, your eyes flutter and sungchan chuckles at your reaction. he opens the door and invites you inside, closing it safely behind you. you stand up awkwardly in the office as sungchan sits down on his luxurious chair and sighs. he shifts himself on the soft material of the chair, and point the seat in front of his desk with his head.

"sit down."

sungchan doesn't need to ask you twice. you sit down and put in front of him the review letters from the different staffs. the silence feels awkward to you, your eyes travel around the room everywhere but in front of you to avoid the ceo's gaze. sungchan is focused on you, massaging his large hands. finally the silence is broken by his voice, and you dare to look at him again. sungchan had opened his tight shirt a little and loosened his tie, and is now looking right at you with a much more serious stare.

"tell me pretty, how much do you need that job?"

you take a moment to think about what to answer. the switch of behavior of the tall man makes you grow more nervous and your face feels hot. you should tell him the truth but won't you sound too desperate?

"answer me when i ask a question."

"i really.... really need that job sir... i have been wanting to work there for so long, i really want it."

"much better when you reply like that. come stand here, pretty."

you take a deep breath and stand up. sungchan's gaze is almost burning you, you can feel it from the tip of your fingers to your chest and face, down your thighs... the ceo sits back in his chair, his legs comfortably parted.

"i think we can help each other out, hm? your pretty face helps me with my problem and i'm sure i can find a nice place for you in the company."

"...excuse me..?"

"don't do that pretty... show some interest in what your boss is asking you..."

sungchan's tone drips like honey into your ears. one of his hand rubs his thigh slowly while he rests his chin on the other one with his gaze so heavy on you. each step you take closer to him make the bulge straining his pants grow larger. sungchan scoffs at your slow moves, his hand rubbing himself over his clothes.

"you know... being such an important person is so much stress... i'm sure you can help out, right? you must do everything i say if you want to work for me, hm."

you slowly drop on your knees in front of him, your hands on his thighs and your face so close to the throbbing bulge. sungchan's smirk grow wider, his hands unbuckling his belt but not opening his pants. he trails his finger down your jaw and hold your chin with the tip of it.

"tell me pretty... want to help the boss out?"

"...yes."

sungchan's smile drops and his voice gets lower.

"yes who?"

"yes sir."

"good."

you nervously let your hands travel sungchan's thighs, earning a low sigh from him. you unbutton his pants, opening it enough to show his strained underwear, the hot bulge twitching under your fingers. you press your palm between sungchan's legs and he groans at your touch, one of his hand finding its place in your hair.

you lick your lips and finally tug on sungchan's underwear slowly, you free his hard cock that stands proudly in front of your face. you caress the veiny length experimentally, and sungchan put his hand around yours to make you hold his dick, making you pump him a little.

he holds the base of his cock with both yours and his hand, he pushes the leaking and red tip on your lips eagerly. you give a lick on the slit as more precum drips on your tongue, and sungchan finally lets go of your hand. he rests himself on his chair, fingers tangled into your hair. when you finally take him into your mouth, a low moan escapes from his throat.

"j-just like that pretty..."

encouraged by his words, you take him deeper, your tongue swirling around his length and tracing the veins. sungchan gets more noisy, breathy groans coming out of his parted lips. his closed eyes open to look at you when you bob your head and take your time on the head of his cock. more praises fall from his tongue and his fingers tug on your hair to bring you closer.

you cough around his dick. you take him away from your mouth and jerk him off, putting all your attention on his throbbing tip that seems ready to explode any minute. you push your thumb on the slit and coat the head of his cock with the sticky fluid. more impatient to find his place back into your hot mouth, sungchan push on your head until his cock hits your face. you open your lips and let him inside, his tip hitting far into your throat as sungchan tug on your hair a little more harshly.

"fuck... keep going..."

the ceo's hips buck into your mouth pushing him deeper inside. you almost gag around him and hold the base of his dick in your hand, rubbing it quickly while you drag your tongue up and down. the way sungchan's groans grow louder and heavier make you speed up, you look up to meet his half opened eyes. his chest heaves to a fast yet steady rhythm, his unbuttoned shirt showing his glistening chest.

you suck on his tip and you feel sungchan's grip on your hair tighten, his two hands holding your head in place while he pushes his hips into you face. you can feel drool dripping from your chin mixed with his cum that erupts into your throat. you move your head slowly to make sure you don't miss a single drop of his bitter fluid before letting go of his now softening dick.

you lick your lips and you feel sungchan's thumb rub on your chin gently, wiping away the spit that coats your skin. sungchan grabs your cheeks and drag you up until you're close of his face. he meets your lips in a sweet kiss, mixed with the taste of his cum. the ceo releases you from his grip and puts back his clothes, buttoning his pants and tucking his shirt back inside.

"so good to me... you did so well pretty."

you sit back on the other side of the desk and sungchan takes the papers that you dropped in front of him. he quickly go through the praises and good reviews from his workers with a smile, looking at you from behind the letters.

"i guess i have a new coworker. you did such a good job. but i expect much more from you starting from today, understood?"

"yes sir."

sungchan work that gets released before eunseok work sorry.... got inspired by the riize court and someone's request, please enjoy :3 eunseok is next, then wonbin!

[koiiiji]

finishing ur requests? uum no. another idea nobody asked about? yes pls💯💯

wooin x sis!reader (platonic)

author’s note : after last chapter i had this headcanon in my head. i suspect that wooin grew up in toxic household where his parents make him study, locking him up in his room, but boy probably was dreaming about just be free, and once left home. i also suspect his family probably has the same wealth as minu, but his parents way more toxic and controlling. but when he left home he left his part there, the part of his soul.

honesty 1000% in love how some ppl just ignored my closed inbox and keep sent requests🤣🤍🫵🏻 seriously guys, the best!! i will answer all requests, almost all is in process(i mean at least 20-40% already done) but now enjoying my time at home😌💌🔒

warnings : no(?) lil fluff, lil angst, nothing hardcore, prob grammar mistakes(not proofed as all my writings)

༘⋆ wooin is older sibling 100%

༘⋆ when his parents told him he will have a sister, when he was 3 or 4 he was jealous, and whole 9 months he waited for someone who will ruin his life

༘⋆ but instead, when your father brought you and your mum to home from hospital, wooin was confused

༘⋆ he only saw a small girl, no one who could harm him in any way

༘⋆ your first ever smile was for him, or because of him by the way!! and he blushed so so much when your small hand clung to his index finger

༘⋆ so he built a soft spot for you in his heart in two years, because first years you’ve been crying, screaming and sobbing mess, well like all toddlers, while wooin was saying that he was too old to babysit you (bro was like 5-6 years old and crying himself to sleep bc didn’t understand how 10*10 equals 100 and 11*11 didn’t equal 111)

༘⋆ btw you were always silent when he was babysitting you. he chuckled each time when you looked at him with wide open eyes

༘⋆ through his childhood your parents were extremely strict with him, so he partly grateful to you for the fact that you took some attention on yourself and gave him the opportunity to be free from his studies and lectures from your parents for a while

༘⋆ but each year atmosphere in your home becomes more toxic, and when you grow up a little you could remember how wooin was locked in his room to study better, because he didn’t have acceptable marks

༘⋆ but you would always sneak in his room late at night, with your saved from the morning sweets and share some with him

༘⋆ you both favorite was lollipops with lemon favors tho!!

༘⋆ when you were about 13 years old, wooin left the house, he was 17

༘⋆ no need to say that your parents were furious. especially your father. in korea it’s common that son is inherits family business or work, so it’s always been a big scandal over his marks, behavior and look

༘⋆ so when he left, for you it meant that all the attention and rigor of your parents were transferred to you

༘⋆ atter the first couple of months of your brother's absence, he found the strength to meet with you

༘⋆ wooin knew perfectly that parents rage will reflect on you, and honestly he were scared - that you will hate him

༘⋆ when he met you near your school, he froze for few seconds and then hugged you so tight that you thought he was about to break your ribs (you returned him that favor)

༘⋆ you two always were close, wooin was your freshness in a house full of stuffy, stagnant air, while you was his little sunshine of hope and happiness in his dark, locked room

༘⋆ you didn’t have a lot of time after your school, so you just hugged tightly and exchanged phone numbers, so you could stay in touch

༘⋆ few days after you find the way to sneak out of the house to meet with your brother you spend few hours on a bench talking and listening to each other

༘⋆ - how are the relatives? on a scale of one to fucked up, how angry were they?

- fucked up in a cube, you know our dad, he wasn't just furious, from the screams from their room, i think he literally lost his temper

༘⋆ wooin just chuckled sadly and rubbed his neck with the palm of his hand

༘⋆ as the years passed, your nightly meetings continued. sometimes he would catch you after school or another after-school club where your parents had put you

༘⋆ wooin offered you to run away to him several times. by your senior year in school, he was self-supporting, and he even had some white-haired giant working for him, constantly pining after him

༘⋆ somehow you refused, deciding to finish school first and then he promised to help you with either work or university, depends on what you will choose

༘⋆ yes, guys from sabbath know you

༘⋆ yes, heyok once caught you two hugging

*wooin pressed his lips on top of your head, tightly shutting his eyes, frowning a little, he didn’t know when he will see you again, because he knew, in exam session parents won’t let you have a free second*

༘⋆ in first place heyok though you two dating, but then joker explained him how things actually going(my headcanon that they gossip girls, frfr)

༘⋆ since you hanged out with wooin you caught your brother’s manners of jokes

༘⋆ “hey, big bro, does that new red haired guy in your team have a girlfri..”

“don’t you even dare to finish this sentence” he exclaimed indignantly. no way his precious little sis will deal with that motherfucker.

[luneengene2]

Still the Same Feeling

• Celebrity!Rich!Jo x Fem!Readers

• Warnings : Sex, angst content, grammar error (Sorry, I'm too lazy to write warnings)

In the past, you left him because he was poor and could not meet your standard of living as the only daughter of a great businessman. You left him like a useless piece of trash. You used to date him because you thought he was handsome and an outstanding student in sports during school. However, slowly you get bored because he can never obey everything you want. Sometimes, you are often teased by your friends just because you are dating a poor man.

But in every life, the wheel must turn. You never thought you could fall this hard. Your father died of a heart attack, and the business that was supposed to be inherited by you was instead taken over by the partner who betrayed your father. You and your mother fell into poverty towards the end of your college years.

It's also hard for you to get a job, for almost half a year you and your mother have been relying on reserve savings which fortunately are still enough for daily food. But of course, those savings will dwindle. As a result, you have no choice but to get a job as soon as possible. In addition, your mother needs medicine for her body which is also starting to become frail.

While you were at the bottom, Jo was at the peak of his career. He became a famous basketball player who has quite a lot of wealth. He even opened a famous sports business that is spread throughout Japan. He is truly very successful and has abundant wealth.

And now here you are, being looked down upon by the man you dumped just because he was poor. Asakura Jo. The man hired you to make you his 'toy' for one night. It seems he has a big grudge against you. He felt satisfied seeing that you were now a woman who worked as a stripper in a high-class nightclub. The girl who used to always hold her chin high, now has to lower her head in shame. With a disgusting job too.

"Karma is real, Y/N. It's unfortunate that you ended up in a place like this," He said as he circled your body. Giving you a mocking look.

"How does it feel to have a hard life like that? Not choosing friends and everyone leaving you, it hurts?" He asked while playing with your hair, he mocked you. Seemingly satisfied that he got the chance to belittle you.

You clenched your fists, trying to keep yourself from crying because of the taunts and insults he threw at you. He was right, this was karma for you because you used to look down on him just because he was poor. And now, he can pay for your pride with his abundant money.

"It seems you understand your position, not answering what the 'master' said. Alright then, you're a professional after all," Jo suddenly pushed you onto the bed, he unzipped his pants and climbed onto the bed with the red sheets. You already know, this is one of the consequences of working as a stripper. Fucked by customers but at a much higher cost.

You tried to stay calm, even though your tears were already trying to rebel and come out. You had guessed, Jo would definitely play rough with you. He still remembered what you had done to him. And it really hurts.

Jo pulled the panties you were wearing to the side, he would only use your pussy for his satisfaction after being tired of meeting his fans. He just needed an outlet to relieve his stress.

His fingers stroked your pussy, chuckling like a psychopath. "Ah let's see, how this pussy is the same as before or not, before I was the only one who could feel this pussy. And now I'm not sure I'm the only one who can feel it, you've become a bitch," You closed your eyes at his words. He didn't know that he was the first person to have sex with you while you were working as a stripper at that club.

Jo didn't put a condom on his cock, he didn't care about that. In one thrust, his cock filled your pussy. Making you groan loudly because of the pain, Plus he didn't warm up, so your pussy, which is still dry, will definitely hurt.

"Fuck!" Jo growled, moving his cock in and out at a pace that he thought would be very pleasurable. Over time, your pussy gets wet and starts clenching his cock over and over again. You're not being a hypocrite, this is good. Because you haven't felt something like this for a long time.

You see him looking up, so sexy and hot. Mouth open, sweat dripping down his neck and his top was in a mess. Jo lowered his gaze to you, your eyes and his locked, unable to look away from each other like glue.

The longer your eyes stared at him, unknowingly tears flowed from your eyes. Guilt and shame also mixed inside you. You treated him like trash, and now he's paying you back for what you did to him.

"I'm gon-gonna cum," Jo moved quickly until his cock hit your sensitive area which immediately made you moan pornographically and soon after, you were squirting heavily until it rose like a fountain.

Jo grinds his hips into you, emptying his balls inside your pussy. Making you reflexively milk his cock as well. His limp self immediately collapsed on top of your body. You could feel his chest rising and falling irregularly from the effects of his cum.

Your hands hesitate to hug him, honestly, you really miss a sincere and loving hug from him. And stupidly, in the past you threw that hug away just because he couldn't meet your standards of living. You should be able to accompany him to struggle from zero, but you don't have that kind of patience. Plus, your friends make fun of you for dating a guy whose status is lower than yours.

Jo released his cock from your pussy, he immediately stood up from the bed. Not caring that you looked quite weak after that hot activity. He opened his wallet and threw a very thick wad of bills at you carelessly. "I think that's enough to pay for a whore like you," He put on his expensive clothes again and immediately left the VIP room as if nothing had happened.

When the door closed, you immediately burst into tears, the tightness in your chest making you suffer even more. You squeezed the money he had just thrown at you tightly.

But you are aware enough, you are aware that this is indeed the karma you get for hurting someone who has sincerely loved you. Asakura Jo proves that he can reach the pinnacle of his life. Proving to the girl he 'once' loved that he could have sharp wealth.

// Ten Years Later //

Jo pulled the coat he was wearing closer because the cold was piercing his body. In fact, the AC in his car was turned off. He looked out the windows , it was raining quite heavily pouring down on Tokyo this evening.

Due to the heavy rain, the road to his house was very congested, because many trees had fallen on the road. Jo's personal driver decided to take a shortcut, even though it was quiet but it would get them there faster.

However, when passing an old building, suddenly two men in black jackets and masks blocked Jo's car, causing the driver to brake suddenly. Jo immediately panicked. He immediately contacted his men, signaling that he was in danger.

The two men in jackets forced open Jo's car door, they even hit the door handle so hard that it broke. Jo and the driver were pulled out and thrown out of the car.

"Damn dogs! Go before you end up here!" Jo bravely stood up, his emotions were so great. Not caring about the danger he would receive if he fought these two people who were definitely robbers. Jo pointed the folding knife in his trouser pocket at the two robbers.

"Choosing to fight first? Ah, I also want to see what this Celebrity is capable of," One of them made a sound and immediately attacked Jo at the same time. Jo is thankful that he studied karate before, so he can do this fight.

In a few kicks or punches, Jo managed to take down the two robbers easily. His breath was short from being attacked so crazily. He approached one of the robbers who was lying with a bloody mouth from being kicked by him.

"At least try hard if you're poor, don't rob, you idiot!" Jo hit the robber's head, grinning and taunting him with his heavy breath.

"MR ASAKURA WATCH OUT!" Suddenly, Jo's driver screamed hysterically. Making Jo immediately look back. Jo stared in shock as the robber who had also fallen pointed a gun at his head and was about to pull the trigger in a few seconds.

TAK! BUGH!

Jo was shocked when the gun suddenly flew into the air because someone kicked the robber's hand. Not only that, the robber immediately collapsed on top of his friend because he was hit on the head. Hitting him with a brick too, that must really hurt.

Jo turned to look at the person who had successfully knocked down one of the robbers. A woman in a cream-colored coat and already soaked. A beautiful woman he knew very well. The beautiful woman he last met ten years ago. The woman who was his ex-lover.

"Y/N," Jo stood up from his squatting position, his face even more shocked when he saw the woman who once filled his heart. You wiped the water that was wetting your face, letting out a harsh breath.

"Are you okay, Mr. Asakura?” You asked, Jo immediately nodded. Not believing that you and him could meet again after ten years of not seeing each other.

Jo looked at your face, so pale and looked very tired. Your eyes even had dark circles. Your lips didn't even have a normal color. However, your beauty does not fade. Your face was still the same as the last time he saw you when you and he were both twenty years old.

Jo's men came with a total of three cars. They even thought you were the one who wanted to harm their master, because you were holding a brick.

Instead, they immediately grabbed you and held your arm tightly before Jo said that you were not the criminal.

"Let go-"

"MAMA!" A little girl's voice made everyone look back. The little girl who was wearing an elementary school uniform and a large bag, her umbrella was left behind. As a result, she got soaked.

The little girl pushed the person who was trying to arrest you. "Let go of my mother, she's not a bad person!" The girl hugged you tightly, her eyes showing that she was about to cry. Yes, she was your daughter, your beloved daughter.

Jo noticed who the girl was. Her body was almost half yours, quite tall for an elementary school student. Jo also noticed how the girl looked, and he found something that successfully made his heart feel like it was being pinched as hard as possible.

"It's okay, my sweet. They won't catch Mama." You hugged his body which was soaked because her umbrella had fallen earlier.

"Let's go,"

"Stop!" Jo suddenly snapped, causing you and your daughter to jump in surprise and stop in your tracks. His tall body approached the two of you with a horrified and tense face.

"Who is this girl?” Jo asked, holding your hand to stop you from leaving. He needed a clearer explanation. You tried to stay calm, turning your face away.

"She is my daughter,"

"Who is the father?”

You fell silent, slapping his hand away and not wanting to answer that sensitive question. "Ami, let's go home, honey," you smiled at your daughter, immediately pulling her away from Jo. But you were slower, Jo was the first to block you.

"Who is the father of this girl?!" Jo insisted, he felt that Ami was his. His daughter with you. Facial features couldn't lie, Ami looked like him. Ami looked at the man in front of her while hugging her mother's waist tightly.

"That's none of your business, Mr. Asakura. This girl has nothing to do with you," you said flatly, but that only made Jo even more convinced that you were lying to him.

"It would be none of my business if this girl was my daughter,"

"She's not your daughter! She's my daughter, and only my daughter! Do you understand?!" You pulled your daughter back to walk away from Jo, but unfortunately, suddenly your head felt dizzy. You felt your body was very weak.

BRUK!

Your daughter screamed in shock as you suddenly collapsed, unconscious in front of her. Jo quickly ran over to your body that was lying on the ground.

"Mama! Mama wake up! Ma!" Ami shook your body hard, she cried in panic seeing her mother suddenly unconscious. Jo knelt down, without further ado he immediately lifted you into his arms, " Jo put you in the car then turned to Ami, he smiled at the girl. Rubbing her head lovingly. "Come with me, I will make your mother wake up from her fainting,"

///

Jo stared blankly at you lying unconscious on his bed. His personal doctor had checked your condition. He said that you are malnourished and have not been eating enough. As a result, your body can be this weak.

His long fingers touched your thin face that was very pale and looked tired. Even when you were unconscious like this, your tired face did not disappear.

The girl who used to live with extraordinary abundance, has now become a woman whose life is full of great struggles to the point that her body is malnourished like this. Also finance her child's life.

Jo felt like hitting himself. He felt guilty, so guilty for ever making a part of you that was already broken even more. His ego made him that sadistic towards you ten years ago. His ego won over his true feelings. The real feeling, the feeling that he still has the same feelings for you. He still loves you, very much.

Seeing you fall, he should have been able to help you. But he chose to follow his ego because he is now at the top.

"I now understand why you broke up with me at that time. I should have understood that, not made you suffer more. I should have understood, you were just afraid of living like this if you married a poor man like me. I should have understood, you were just afraid," Jo closed his eyes, tears began to flow freely from his eyelids. He regretted, so much that he didn't try to reach out to you again.

Slowly, your eyes opened. You looked around you, a luxurious room with expensive ornaments immediately entered your eyes. You looked towards where Jo was standing, And that reflex makes you want to get up from your sleeping position.

"No, no, no, Y/N! Go back to your sleeping position," Jo held your body from getting up from your position. Your limp body certainly couldn't fight back.

You stared at him, still in shock that he had suddenly become like this. "Why am I here? Where is this? Where is my daughter?” You asked in a hoarse voice, struggling to speak. Jo smiled faintly, he reached for your hand, holding your arm gently.

"You are now at your home, our daughter is drinking hot chocolate," his voice trembled, holding back tears. His words certainly confused you.

"My home?"

"Yes, this is your home, your home and our daughter's,"

"Jo-"

"Forgive me, please," until finally, Jo burst into tears which of course immediately shocked you again because he suddenly apologized. "Please forgive me, forgive me that I can't understand your condition. I'm sorry for being such a jerk, Y/N please, please forgive me. I was really mean to you. I'm too evil that you don't give me the right to know about Ami," Jo kissed your hand repeatedly, his breath short. He was too gentle, he was the one who apologized, even though you had thrown him away like trash.

"Jo no, why are you apologizing. The villain here is me. I hurt you, threw you-"

"No, Y/N. I'm the bad guy here, I got you pregnant, I knew that the first time I saw Ami. Then leaving you with only enough money to eat, for God's sake, the real villain is me, Y/N," Jo lowered his head, burying his head right next to your pillow, sobbing, with his hands still holding you tightly.

"Jo, stop it. Don't apolo-"

"If I had known about Ami earlier, I wouldn't have let her life be full of hardships like I was, Y/N. She doesn't need to live in poverty." Even though you haven't said whether Ami is his daughter or not, Jo is sure that the little girl who calls you 'mom' is indeed his daughter.

"Why are you so sure that Ami is your daughter? I haven't confirmed it," you looked at him with a deep gaze. There was no trace of deceit in his eyes.

"She looks like me, a female version of me. Physical resemblance can't make you lie that girl is my daughter," Jo said with a thin smile. Seeing Ami was indeed the female version of himself. The girl was even very beautiful, tall like her father, and looked gentle.

"MAMA!" Ami entered your room with a maid running after her. Ami seemed to ignore Jo, she immediately climbed onto the bed and hugged you. "Mam, are you okay? You won't leave me, right?" Ami asked with teary eyes, you could only smile, kissing her forehead softly. Slowly, you let go of her embrace, you cupped her face and wiped away her tears.

"My dear daughter, no one will leave you. Mommy will not leave you, mommy will always be by your side," You smiled warmly at your daughter, assuring her that no one would leave her. When she cried like this, you saw a side of Jo who used to be very gentle before revenge 'attacked' him.

You stroked her head, your eyes returning to the man who was standing as Ami came to hug you. You smiled faintly at Jo, slowly turning Ami's body towards Jo. "Princess, this is your father," Ami stared at Jo closely, observing every detail of Jo from top to bottom.

"Don't you want to say hello? This is the person I often tell you about, your gentle and loving father," Jo felt like bursting into tears again when you actually gave your daughter a good impression of him. In fact, he had previously made your life even more ruined, aka made you pregnant without any clear accountability.

Slowly, Ami got up from her sitting position, approaching Jo who was standing. The girl was already ten years old, of course she already understood what was happening around her. The age where you will soon be a teenager.

If Jo wasn't strong, he might have fainted from seeing his daughter he never knew for the first time. When he saw Ami, Jo was like looking in a mirror. A very beautiful duplicate of himself.

Not only that, Jo also saw a lot of suffering from the girl. If only, if only Jo had not done something stupid, Ami would have lived like a princess, not in misery.

"Papa," Ami stared at Jo with a sad gaze, tears began to flow down from the girl. Her body froze, not believing that she had now met her father. His father, who his mother described as a gentle man.

Jo was emotional. He burst into tears and immediately lifted Ami's body into his arms. Hugging his daughter tightly for the first time. His heart ached and was filled with great regret.

[nanamiskentos]

GOO GOO MUCK #1 — jujutsu kaisen x reader choose a storybook to open. aka my mythos take on jujutsu kaisen.

you've turned the page to: CHAPTER I. ITADORI YŪJI go back to the table of contents.

"an unchangeable colour rules over the melancholic: his dwelling is a space the colour of mourning. nothing happens in it. no one intrudes. it is a bare stage where the inert is assisted by the suffering from that inertia. the latter wishes to free the former, but all efforts fail, as theseus would have failed had he been not only himself but also the minotaur; to kill him then, he would have had to kill himself." alejandra pizarnik

prologue. → there was no other ending for this story — none where you did not end up as fodder for the beast in labyrinth, not after the king decreed that you would be the next sacrifice. how ironic that itadori yuuji doesn't seem like a monster at all, just a brilliant boy who was marked for death and sorrow.

pairings. minotaur!yuuji itadori x reader (sfw!)

song inspiration. goo goo muck — the cramps / still monster — enhypen

warnings reader comes from the royal family, has a deadbeat + awful father, mentions of injuries, death, sacrifices, angst and hurt, comfort. mildly ooc yuuji because life has dealt him a rough hand. reader picks their skin and cuticles + mention of bleeding, ambiguous ending, grief. word count. 2.9k!

a/n. y'all know i dont play abt this little guy but omg i was literally scratching my head trying to come up with decent plot. also i'm not entirely faithful to greek mythology my bad 😧 i hate spelling the word 'labyrinth' bc who the fawk came up with all that?

ask/comment/dm to be added to a taglist 🩵

mp3. when the sun goes down, and the moon comes up, i turn into a teenage goo goo muck!

you're not quite sure how long it had been since you were thrown to the rough, cold stone of the maze, where each jagged groove bit into your skin as you traced the contours of your new prison. the walls rose ever so high, swallowing you in an oppressive and towering silence and had it not been for the cold that bit your bones, you might have sobbed.

what was the weight of family, or the worth of blood, when a father could offer his own child to the gods as casually as one might surrender a coin to the tides? you could still feel the rough ghost of his grip on your shoulder, his hand heavy with the ringed wealth that he refused to give up.

all his gold, all his riches, the coffers of a kingdom that was within your rights to inherit, what did it matter in the end — when it was you that he sacrificed? the gods did not care for mercy, was that not why they were gods? but they had demanded, and the king had answered. not with offerings from hoarded treasure, but a child of his own flesh and blood. you, stripped of finery and beaten gold, and left adrift in the maw of stone and shadow.

but now, you laugh, a bitter sound swallowed by the cold air, hoping that your nerves are able to rework themselves into something braver, to allow the maze to drink in your defiance. at this point, you're not quite sure where you'll meet your end, but you've been told the beast waits, a monster of bone and sinew and deific anger, bound to the hunger of the cruel gods.

your eyes have caught the faint outline of something strewn along the path ahead, a line of small and crooked shapes against the stone. brittle sticks left to decay? a morbid curiosity has stirred within you, drawing you closer, as you kneel in thin linen onto the grimy stone.

they are not sticks at all, but fingers. withered and mummified, bent in unnatural shapes as if frozen mid-reach. dark, claw-like nails tip each one, and the skin is shrivelled and taut over bone, in a faded mauve hue. something bruised and ever so ancient.

you just cannot help the sickened gasp that escapes you, lurching back and clutching a hand to your mouth as bitterness rises and makes a home in your throat. the grotesque trail stretches on before you, and you hazard a guess that this rotten path leads into the heart of the labyrinth. a warning, a lure?

but a sound has risen from the depths of the stone around you, a low and rumbling roar that makes the walls tremble, as if the maze itself is struggling to take a breath. the noise grows, and it sends a cold shock through you that drains away every shed of defiance you had clung to.

for a moment, you can scarcely breathe, chest tight with fear. the memory of all you wanted to be, all you dreamed of becoming, hands over you like a whisper, a fragment of hope already out of reach. you think of the things you will never see, the lives you will never touch, and it startles you — how your heart breaks with a quiet desparate longing as you regret the way you lived in this short life. you wanted more than this, even if you did not get a proper death. but you wanted more than to be swallowed up as a nameless sacrifice, your thread picked out of the tapestry of history.

a flicker of thought urges you to raise the torch in your hand, to wield it as some pitiful defense. you imagine the flames as a fragile beacon against the shadows, a last defiant spark in the face of the death that you have been handed. but even the flame trembles, casting erratic shadows, and in the pallid light, you feel the futility of it all.

your strength has failed, and you sink to your knees as a numbness overtakes your body, as you bow your head, pressing your forehead against cold, damp stone.

"please..." you murmur, the word a faint breath lost in the maze, a plea without direction or expectation. whether it is mercy you seek, or simply a swift end, you cannot say. but death has never been kind, and it would never hold its hand out to you in a painless way.

but in waiting for a blow to be delivered, your eyes crack open, vision blurred by the shadows that lovingly cling to the labyrinth. each muscle is tense as you struggle to rise from the cold floor that pressed sharply into your smarting knees. but slowly, a shape and a form comes into focus — broad and menacing, a silhouette bathed in the flickering light of your torch.

at first, he seems like a nightmare sprung from the depths of the eldest primordial myths, markings etched across his skin like a map of some forbidden world, as dark ink ripples down his shoulders, down his chest.

you blink, and your gaze adjusts to the strange half-light, and you're bewildered as the black lines begin to fade, dissolving as if they were never truly there. the intensity of his form softens, and you're not sure if the monstrous edge is beginning to fade away, leaving something...unexpected in its place.

the form before you now is young, hardly older than you, with a face that seems almost human in its expressionless calm, yet somehow haunted. your breath catches, air hitching as you take in his features — amber eyes so intensely golden that they seem to glow in the dim light, fixed upon your with a gaze that is neither hostile nor welcoming, nay. just unflinchingly steady. his hair is a soft, choppy pink; like the goddess of the dawn had run her rosy-tipped hands over his head. but he is bare-chested, the lean muscle across his torso gleaming with a faint sheen, and the broad lines of his shoulders and thickened waist speak of one who has been carved for war.

you fight to quell the tremor in your chest, a rising mixture of terror and something else — something you just cannot name. there is no cruelty in his face, nor hatred. but it is a sad emptiness, a blankness, as if he himself is lost and hollow, waiting in this forsaken pit for far longer than you can possibly imagine.

but the soft rumble of his tone pulls you back, "so, you are the next one they sent?" and his voice is coloured by a kind of bitter amusement.

his eyes, that haunting amber, crease slightly at the corners, and you cannot help but notice that despite his demeanour, his face is incredibly expressive when he speaks, with a warmth that softens his gaze, but the sadness remains. a quiet and relentless grief that settles around him like a shadow.

you feel the tremour in your own voice as you stammer, leaning back against your calves, and yet still kneeling. but your head is tilted up to meet his gaze. your heart races, an awful and unsteady ba-bump! but you force yourself to speak.

"i would ask only for mercy," you whisper, "for my only crime was being an obedient child of a harsher master."

for a moment, a flicker of something unreadable crosses his face. but the boy scoffs, a bitter sound that is not entirely unkind. he looks away, his mouth twisted into a grim half-smile with no real mirth, and you watch as the puckered scar on the side of his lips crumples.

"if there was any mercy in the world," he replies quietly, "they would have just executed me by now."

you pick at your nails, at the skin that is peeling off your cuticles with a sharp sting, "mercy is as much as a myth as the gods themselves."

"and yet you choose to kneel and ask me for it?"

you've looked down, focusing on the rapidly blooming crimson, "i do not want to die."

the boy does not answer at first. instead, he just stares at you with an intensity that feels as though he's examining you from the inside out. you're not sure if you meet a hint of suspicious flickering behind topaz eyes, as if you are the real danger here.

but you just test your luck, shaky but persistent, "why would execution be a mercy?"

it is no kindness to your nerves that the question hangs in the air like a fragile thread — and his response is a growl that rumbles deep in his chest, primal and sharp. it's shaken you to your core, and in that instant your gaze blurs, with your heart slamming against your ribs as a foggy vision plays before you like a twisted reflection.

you've pushed the beast too far. and for a moment in this haze you see him, this beautiful boy, morph into the very thing you had imagined in the darkness before. a four-armed creature covered in dark markings, his form expanding and distorting into something far more grotesque. would there be savage claws, reaching for your face as you recoil, tearing you into ribbons?

but the moment passes in a breath, and he's still there, slumped against the stone. no monster, just mortal fresh. no, he has not moved to strike, nor to rush at you.

instead he just sinks lower into cold stone, pulling his knees up to his chest, and resting his elbows on them, looking almost defeated. there's a strange heaviness in his posture, as if the weight of something much larger than the maze itself is dragging him down, something wide and unbearable.

"what did they tell you before they tossed you here, alongside me?"

"they told me that i was doing my father a service," you begin, and you wonder if there is a bitter drip that falls from your tongue as you let the words fall from your dry mouth, "and that the gods would award me for my pious duty and sacrifice."

the boy raises a thin brow, a faint flicker of surprise scattering itself over his faint, pale scars, "your father. the king i gather? he sent his only heir down here?"

what a sting. even a monster could understand. even the ones trapped in the dark can understand the greed that drives the hearts of men. you grimace, a fleeting shame twisting in your gut as you nod, but it is no surprise. your father's name had never been one to inspire reverence — only fear, and the hollow hope that the gods would look favourably upon his ritualistic sacrifices. it was hard not to feel small and broken in comparison to the king who stood tall in his halls of marble.

your new companion shakes his head, almost in acrid disbelief, but he continues, "i'm not the beast that they say lives down here," and at your look of disbelief and confusion, he grinds his heel down onto sharp stone, "it's not me."

your gaze drifts over him as he speaks, and your eyes fall on the harsh marks scattered over his chest. some are thin, barely more than pale lines, while others are thick and jagged — carved into him by hands that had no mercy. there's one in particular, a long streak that cuts across his face, something etched there by something far darker than any mortal blade. like patchwork.

there's a curl in your fingers, one that scratches at you. one that tells you to reach out and place your hand on thickened skin, but you tamp it down. he must have noticed the way your eyes linger on him, and for a moment, the corner of his scarred mouth quirks upward. he doesn't seem quite offended...just aware. you shift slightly, folding your legs beneath you, the thin linen shift you wear now soiled with the grime of the stone floors. the dirt clings to the fabric, staining it a muted grey.

"the beast is not me," he says again, and there's a quiet ache in his words, "he just lives within me. that's all."

you frown, trying to make sense of his words. "he?" you echo.

the boy glances at you, his gaze distant for a moment before he continues, as if he's not looking at you, but rather past your head.

"the council said they were going to kill me at first. said it would kill the monster that lives in here -," and he presses a hand harshly at his sternum, fingers splaying against his chest, "thought it would kill him if they just put an axe to my neck. two birds with one stone."

"and then...," and his smile is harsher, rueful, "then the king decided that it would be more useful to keep me down here, extend by sentence a bit. said that i could help them like this. said i could control the beast just enough to save the lives of others."

you curl your lip, and you can't fathom the cruelty of knowing your body is a prison. that your blood, bones and sinew is being used as the bars of an enclosure. such was your father's consistent cruelty.

"i am sorry that you suffered at the king's hands."

he doesn't look up at you at first. instead, his gaze drifts to your hands, where you've ripped at the edges of your cuticles, leaving faint scars that are prone to be reopened. your fingers tremble as you shove your hands into the folds of linen, hiding the fresher, red wounds.

his voice is low, but not unkind — with his eyes lingering on your hands, "i could say the same for you."

you almost smile, feeling as though a distant thunderclap has unsettled you and shaken you.

"what's your name?"

he doesn't answer immediately, the silence stretching just enough to make you wonder if he'll speak at all. but finally, his voice emerges, laced with a faint warmth, "itadori yuuji." now his eyes flicker to you, and after a beat, he adds, almost with a touch of irony, "your highness."

the title sounds wrong here, in the dark deeps, in the hollow of this wretched place, yuuji's home. you laugh, though you're certain the sound is thinned, "i'm sorry we met under these circumstances," you say, words slipping out before you can stop them. but you are sincere — and you wonder, briefly, what it would have been like to meet him in another life or another world.

yuuji laughs softly at that, and you catch the faintest glimpse of a smile, wan but genuine. it's a tragedy, you think, at how you cannot help but marvel at the way the torchlight catches onto his beautiful silhouette, illuminating small crescent marks that lay under his eyes.

"i am too," he says, and you wonder foolishly if he, too, regrets the way he lived. the strange fate that has brought you both to this moment.

your smile drops suddenly, "i will die down here, won't i?" the question slips from your lips, softer and more naive in a way that doesn't belong in the air of this place.

yuuji frowns, the furrow of his brow deepening, and his eyes darken — is there pity in his eyes? or something else that you cannot place?

"you don't have to."

you don't believe him, not truly. you know the customs of this sacrifice. the king's laws, and the will of the gods — they all point to the same conclusion. you know this, for all of yuuji's apparent mercy cannot hold back a four-armed beast when it catches the iron scent of blood in the air.

"and when the guards come with the next prisoner?" you ask.

yuuji doesn't look at you immediately. instead, he draws faint and absent patterns in the dust with the tips of his fingers.

"the guards will never be able to report back to your father then. maybe sukuna can be of some use, for once."

you frown, a thousand questions racing in your mind — about the finality of his tone or the underlying oath of blood being spilt. but the one that rises to the surface is the unfamiliar name, "sukuna?"

yuuji shifts slightly, his posture loosening, as if he's trying to make himself more comfortable in the cramped space between you. your gaze catches on his slender fingers tracing lines in the dust.

"the beast within me. gojo said he was my uncle too, apparently."

"gojo?"

yuuji's face darkens, "he was my - " he ends his sentence abruptly, as if he has not the heart to bite the last words out.

you stare at him, bewildered, your mind struggling to process the connection he’s just made so casually, as though it were the most ordinary thing in the world. what cruel fate.

he catches your expression and laughs softly, a sound that is more bitter than it is light.

"long story," he adds, as if that explanation is enough, his eyes glinting with something unreadable as he leans back slightly, his attention slipping into the distance.

"seems like you have a lot of those," you offer heartedly, but it darkens your heart. you do not see a boy capable of great violence in front of you. in another life, itadori yuuji would have lived a happier life — surrounded by those that he loved. but when the beast, sukuna, is unleashed, who will stand between you and the creature to protect you? how haunting, for the last face you believe you will ever see is the first face that you think you've ever loved.

[icbgwy]

THE WAY THINGS GO ♱. ── 西村力

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⎯‎⎯‎⎯⠀⠀⠀⠀⋆⠀⠀⠀⠀ׄ⠀⠀⠀extras

minji ! ( kimji ) 김민지

⋆⠀⠀⠀⠀ׄ⠀⠀⠀kim minji, student council president, very strict on the rules of the student handbook which causes her to butt heads with her vice president, jungwon yang and also yn’s best friend, shota haku who can’t seem with follow the rules even when he’s trying to. a mutual friend of both riki and y/n.

jungwon ( jngwn ) 양정원

⋆⠀⠀⠀⠀ׄ⠀⠀⠀yang jungwon, student council vice president, ran for the position as a silly joke to annoy his middle school best friend, park ‘jay’ jongseong but actually won to everyone’s surprise. has not done a single thing as student council vice president and is constantly annoying both minji and jay. despite always trying to annoy minji, he always scares away any unwanted male attention minji receives.

jay ( jaysng ) 박종성

⋆⠀⠀⠀⠀ׄ⠀⠀⠀park ‘jay’ jongseong, student council treasurer, lost the position of student council vice president to jungwon and still holds a small grudge against him for it. actually does his job as treasurer, and helps jungwon with his duties. jungwon thinks he’s the one scaring creepy guys away from minji but it’s actually jay standing right behind him.

soyeon ( yeonie ) 최소연

⋆⠀⠀⠀⠀ׄ⠀⠀⠀choi soyeon, self proclaimed it girl of the school, has a band of loyal yes men that follow her due to her beauty and wealth. in riki’s new friend group and is his on and off girlfriend since second year of middle school, has delusional one sided beef with y/n and minji dating back to grade school. the one sided beef did not lessen, y/n somewhat admires soyeon’s hater mentality as it’s a great form of entertainment.

jihoon ( jhoonu ) 권지훈

⋆⠀⠀⠀⠀ׄ⠀⠀⠀kwon jihoon, riki’s toxic friend, only really interested in riki’s potential as a future benefit to him after high school. has been picking on y/n and riki since he moved to the school district in grade school but had a change of heart as he acknowledged riki’s wealth and eventual inheritance riki’s father has to offer. constantly bothering y/n as he swears she’s beneath him, thinks of it as flirting and playing the long game, it never works, not even once.

ִ ࣪ 𖦹 物事の進み方 ָ ࣪ ׅ

prev . masterlist . next

notes: lee soo-min as choi soyeon, cha woo-min as kwon jihoon, side characters that will be mentioned throughout the series, mostly used as a driving force for riki and y/n but they’re still important enough to make known.

summary: at the start of his senior year, riki nishimura notices that everything feels off—his basketball skills are slipping, and his usual charm with girls has vanished. desperate for answers, he follows his co-captain heeseung's joking advice and visits a local shaman. she reveals the source of his bad luck: major karmic debt. to regain his balance, riki must make amends for his broken and abandoned childhood friendship with the one girl who truly knew him, y/n matsuzaki.

tag list ( open ): @tasnemluvs @elegancefr @jiiyen @skepvids @enhypenlovre @mylettterstoyou @delirioastral @who-tf-soddhi @aespaqq @nat123c

[quanruionechancepls]

The Albatross - Chapter 2: Moth to a Flame

Frontman!Hwang Inho x Host!Reader

Content Warning: Dubious Consent, NSFW

For more information, check Masterlist

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

At your ripe age of 30, life is good, especially after your dad died. Being his illegitimate child who was only accepted into the family after your mom died when you were 10, there was no way you could inherit the company, but you weren’t particularly hurt by this reality. That job was for your spoiled, sheltered, and annoyingly sophisticated brother. When the word ‘nerd’ comes to mind, his face is the one that would pop into your mind. Everything from his huge square glasses, his everyday plaid sweatshirt with a blouse underneath, and that horrid gelled, side part hairstyle made your skin break out in goosebumps. It’s no wonder he had to get an arranged marriage to even dream of feeling the touch of a woman other than his own mother.

In comparison, you were the hot sibling. Being illegitimate never stopped you from having suitors even though your partners wouldn’t inherit much wealth. Insultingly, many assumed you were stupid and naive because of your baby face. Yes, your doe eyes, button nose and perfectly-proportioned plump lips made you look like a real life doll, but you were a far cry from a trophy wife. There’s a reason why you never bothered to compete with your brother for the company, but jumped at the opportunity to host the games once that brain tumor was discovered.

Even your lifestyles were completely different. Your brother slept at 9pm sharp every night, falling asleep in bed after dozing off while reading a book. Your niece and nephew followed a similar lifestyle, with strict tutoring sessions everyday on various subjects way past their comprehension level at the ages of 7 and 9 respectively. You can’t even fathom how nerdy you have to be to teach a 7 year-old philosophy.

Alternatively, you were a wild child, going to bed at dawn and waking up at noon whenever you didn’t have responsibilities like school. Your step-mother once tried to correct your behaviour, which resulted in her Van Cleef necklace and Cartier bracelets going missing. Missing where? In your jewelry box, obviously. She couldn’t even beat you for it, because despite your dad’s neglect, you knew she would get it if she even touched a hair on your head.

Still, you studied hard and got good grades, entering university like every other rich kid with heavy expectations did. Even though you could never be the CEO, your brother probably wanted you to be the CMO or something, not that it would ever happen. The last thing you wanted out of life was to sit at a desk for 8 hours everyday, sifting through paperwork and answering dozens of mind numbing emails. You had enough money to live comfortably for the rest of your life, you had no need to work.

You first met Inho when you were 21, when you were first introduced to the existence of the Squid Games. Sure, his handsome face was nice eye candy, but his determination and ruthlessness was what pulled you in. He had no qualms about getting his hands dirty if it meant he could advance to the next game. This was what led him to win the 2015 Squid Games. Very fitting, for a disgraced ex-police officer.

Some found his age gap a little alarming, but you and your raging daddy issues didn’t see a problem with a slightly older man— slightly being a 19 year age gap. It’s not like you were even in love with him. Love was reserved for the dumb and overly-emotional, both of which being traits you didn’t possess. Instead, you wanted him to be your new toy. After all, there was nothing standing in your way after his wife died of liver cancer while pregnant. Very sad, but it wasn’t your problem.

Once his wife was out of the picture, all you had to do was swoop in at the right time and heal all his problems like a saint.

-

You convinced your dad to approach Inho a few months after his wife passed. The timing was very important. Too soon, and he would be too resentful to listen to anything you had to say. He could even turn violent, which would be disastrous for a fragile old man like your dad. Even before the tumor, it’s not like he was a bodybuilder who frequently went to the gym and remained physically strong. No, he was always a skinny, weak old man.

If you contacted Inho too late, he would’ve moved on with his life and the memory of the Squid Games would likely be forgotten. Again, the timing was very important. You had to ensnare him at the perfect time to drag him back to the Squid Games, even if he wasn’t coming back as a participant. He was an intelligent man after all, and despite your dad being willing to pass on the legacy of the games to you, you weren’t too keen on the paperwork and planning that would come with it. In short, Inho was the scapegoat that would get you out of work. If he was willing to play along as your toy, even better.

Three months after the 2015 Squid Games ended, you entered your dad’s office to pitch an idea to him: making Inho your future right-hand man. Your dad rarely listened to what you had to say, shutting you up with a hefty allowance every month to make up for the relationship you didn’t have. This time, it seemed that he was also intrigued by Inho, because he found him with swiftness once you mentioned his name.

Unfortunately, all his attempts to lure him back were failures. He tried everything, from more money, to blackmail. Inho, who was freshly widowed and still reeling from the overwhelming grief of losing his wife and unborn child, couldn’t be bribed with anything.

By the time he was rejected the fifth time, your dad gave up and told you to forget about it. What he underestimated was your greediness and determination to get what you wanted. With every rejection, your interest in Inho only grew.

“Men are so useless! Must I do everything myself?!” You groaned to yourself, laying on your bed kicking the mattress and squeezing the life out of your pillow. Your wailing ended quickly, as you grabbed the notebook on your vanity and clicked your pen, furiously scribbling your game plan to capture Inho.

-

It was a rainy day in Seoul, and you were in a convenience store scanning one of the aisles. Your appearance was a far cry from your usual styled, blow out hair, acrylic nails and flashy dress. Instead, your hair was put in a messy bun, and you were in a hoodie, sweats, and a puffer jacket with an umbrella in your hand. Normally, you would rather die than leave the house looking like such a mess, but this was your disguise; this made you look like a normal person.

This convenience store was near Inho’s apartment. Despite the large sum of money he received from the Squid Games six months ago, he hadn’t bothered upgrading his apartment, splurging on luxuries to treat himself, or any of the usual behaviours you saw in winners. Instead, his life spiralled as he usually laid in bed staring at the ceiling, only leaving the house to buy some instant ramen at the convenience store and immediately going back home.

You tracked his life down to the minutes. He woke up at 10am everyday, brushed his teeth at 12 after wallowing in bed for two hours, and made himself some instant ramen at around 12:30. On Saturdays, he would restock on his ramen at his nearest conveniemce store at 7pm. He was quite particular with the type of ramen he would buy too. It seemed he enjoyed spicy food, because his go-to was the spicy Buldak ramen.

And what a coincidence! Here you were, in his local convenience store at 7pm, holding the last packet of spicy Buldak ramen. It seemed this store was experiencing supply chain issues, resulting in your current situation as Inho looked you up and down, eyeing the ramen in your hand longingly and occasionally looking up to glare at you. He looked rough, with visible stubble on his face and dark circles under his eyes.

“Why are you glaring at me like that?” You asked, feigning defensiveness as you clutched the ramen closer to your chest.

“That’s my favourite ramen. You’re holding the last one,” he replied, putting extra emphasis on the word ‘last’ to make sure you really understood his situation.

“Well, I got my hands on it first. I’m not giving it to you just because it’s your favourite,” you countered, taking a step backwards, ready to make a run for it. You didn’t even like this ramen, you just wanted to irritate him.

“What do I have to do to make you hand it over?” He pressured, taking a step towards you. With each step you took backwards, he took one forwards.

You thought about it for a second. He didn’t have anything he could give you that you lacked, so you were kind of stumped. “Uh, maybe treat me to a meal? I’m only here because I’m hungry, you know,” you improvised, feeling proud of yourself for making it up on the spot.

He sighed into his hand, rubbing his temples as if he had a headache, thinking long and hard. You wouldn’t be surprised if he really did have a headache, considering how unhealthily he’d been eating for the past couple of months. “Okay, you win. Where do you want to go?”

“I’ll figure it out,” you replied as you made your way to the cash register.

“Hey, you said you would give it to me!”

“I’m bringing it to the cash register so you can pay for it and take it, duh!”

You placed the ramen on the counter and watched as the cashier scanned it. “1,000 won please.” You simply stared at Inho as he took out a bill and paid, putting his singular packet of ramen into a bag.

Just as you were about to leave, the cashier said something that made both of the blood in your bodies run cold. “You two look like a good couple,” he complimented, and both of you grimaced at lightning speed.

“She’s a stranger,” Inho replied.

“He’s a stranger to me too,” you backed up. You were glad the feeling was mutual.

The cashier looked at you two weirdly, as if questioning your behaviour. It was only then when you realized how close the two of you were standing, so close that you could feel his his chest on your back, his breath on your neck, and if you really focused, his heartbeat as well.

You could feel the blood rushing to your ears— not out of love or affection or anything of that sort, but embarrassment. It wasn’t very ladylike to be so touchy with a man you just met. Your step-mom would probably throw a fit if she saw you like this.

“Hey, you said you’re hungry, right? Let’s go. I want to go home,” Inho snapped, and you rolled your eyes as you were brought back to reality with his voice. As the automatic doors slid open, you two walked onto the street where surprisingly, it wasn’t pouring rain.

“What do you want to eat?” He asked, the impatience evident in his tone. It was a bit shocking to have anyone talk to you that way. It only happened briefly when you were first brought to your dad’s at the age of 10, but everyone was quickly fired and replaced when you brought it up.

“I don’t know,” you responded. You rarely ate anything other than fancy steak at restaurants or the meals cooked by your private chef.

“You don’t even know what you want to eat?” Inho groaned, exasperated.

“Well, I rarely eat anything that isn’t homecooked, so excuse me if I’m not familiar with what options I have!”

“You act like a foreigner even though you speak perfect Korean,” he mumbled, and you kicked him in the shin. After he was finished clutching his leg, he decided for you. “We’re getting Korean barbeque. Can’t ever go wrong with barbeque,” he noted as he grabbed your wrist, dragging you to the nearest restaurant.

The atmosphere in the restaurant was a little loud for your liking, with drunk men yelling at each other with soju in their hands, increasing the volume with each shot. There was a crying baby at the table beside you, crying ear-splitting screams that could nearly break glass. The only redeeming quality about the restaurant was the delicious scent of meat that permeated throughout the entire building.

“How often do you go to places like this?” You groaned, rubbing your temples to avoid an incoming headache. Inho had already ordered for you upon realizing you had no idea what you were doing.

“Not often. Barbeque can get expensive, especially if you have a large family,” he responded, and you were taken aback by his humble answer. Why was he so frugal with money when he’s a millionaire now?

“This better be the best meal of my life because I’m losing my mind with all this noise,” you grumbled. Your definition of a restaurant was a quiet, serene atmosphere with dim lighting and mini candles at the table to illuminate the area. The main sounds you could hear were quiet chattering and the sound of the cutlery on plates.

“No one I know has ever been upset with barbeque,” he shrugged.

Soon enough, the meat arrived, and your jaw dropped. “It’s not even cooked! What the hell is this?” You sputtered, preparing to stand up to complain at the counter.

“Sit down! This is how it’s supposed to be! Have you never had barbeque in your life?” Inho yelled, grabbing your wrist and pulling you back down. Luckily, the drunk men helped drown out your little fit and no one stopped to stare at the scene you were making.

Once you sat back down, huffing and pouting at the raw meat, Inho sighed again. “You’re either the stupidest person ever or you’re a sheltered rich girl who’s never had anything other than foie gras and Dom Perignon.”

“I don’t eat foie gras, it’s unethical!” You countered.

“Well that answers my question,” he sighed again as he began to cook the meat. You watched curiously as it sizzled and juices began to leak onto the hot stove. When he flipped it, the meat had turned brown. When he was done, he poured an unfamiliar sauce into a bowl and placed it in front of you, picking up the meat with his chopsticks and moving it onto your plate.

You picked up your chopsticks and blew into the steaming meat, dipping it in the sauce and taking a bite. When you realized you couldn’t bite off a piece, you quickly covered your mouth and stuffed the rest in, ears blushing from embarrassment.

It wasn’t impressive, by all means. There’s only so much you can do with regular meat and some sauce. Even so, it wasn’t so bad, and definitely not bad enough for you to spit it out. You recall having similar meals with your mom you were younger.

“So? Do you like it?” Inho asked expectantly.

“It’s good,” you replied, giving him a thumbs up. It wasn’t necessary to go into details about how you’ve had better.

He seemed to loosen up a little with your approval, and placed a few more strips on the stove, cooking for the two of you. The two of you ate in silence for a while before Inho suddenly straightened his back and looked you concerningly. “Wait, how old are you?”

“21, why?” You answered between your munching.

He groaned, his hands flying to his face as if he’d encountered something extremely exasperating. “What are you doing hanging around with an old man like me? Do you lack common sense or have no sense of danger?”

“If you were to do something, you would’ve done it already,” you shrugged.

“That’s not how the world works! Do you know how many women marry men and then get beaten around like a ragdoll everyday?”

“Are you that type of man?”

“No, of course not!”

“Okay, then I have nothing to worry about,” you concluded, and he shook his head.

“You have to be more alert than that. Just because I’m not going to hurt you doesn’t mean other people won’t.”

“Ugh! You sound like a dad!” You groaned. The peaceful atmosphere the two of you had was thoroughly ruined now. It wasn’t a big deal though, because in between his yapping and your responses, you two had cleared every piece of meat brought to your table.

“Are you still hungry?” He asked, staring at all the empty plates.

“No.”

Inho called out for a waiter and the bill was promptly presented to him. His eyes widened a little at the price, but he paid without complaints, stuffing his arms through his jacket holes and zipping it up while the waiter grabbed his change at the register.

Before you two went your separate ways, you grabbed his arm. “Give me your number,” you demanded.

“What? You’re too young to date me, and I’m not interested in dating,” he scoffed.

“No, you idiot! I’m getting your number so you can show me around Seoul!”

“Why should I do that? I already treated you to dinner, and you gave me my ramen. Anything else is not necessary.”

“So you’re going to leave a college student who’s living in an unfamiliar city to survive on her own?” An obvious lie to guilt trip him— you were born and raised in Seoul.

“Where are you from?”

“Busan.”

“Show me your Busan accent.”

“What! You’re so mean! I have a complex over my Busan accent, you know! It’s embarrassing!” Another lie, you have no idea how to speak in a Busan accent.

Inho sighed again. You wondered if it was a habit of his or if he just wasn’t used to someone so enchantingly amazing as you. “Give me your phone.”

You watched as he typed his number in along with his name, as if you didn’t know that already, but it occurred to you that you two never introduced yourselves but already had a meal together. He passed you his phone and you did the same, but adding a little heart emoji to the end of your name, and he scowled. “Is this necessary?” He pointed to the heart.

“It’s just for fun. You’re free to delete it if you want.”

He mumbled something under his breath but kept the heart in your contact name, shoving his phone in his pocket. He offered to walk you home since it was getting dark, but you rejected his offer, spotting your driver’s car across the street. You were surprised at how gentlemanly he was.

After waving him goodbye, you crossed the street, opened the car door, and sank into the car seat, breathing a sigh of relief. You opened your phone and called your dad. “I’ve met with Inho. Give me a few months and he’s ours.”

-

Getting close to Inho wasn’t as hard as you thought. Underneath the cold, sometimes brutish man who was still grieving his family, was a deeply lonely person. He’d told you about his family situation, from his divorced parents, step-mom and half-brother, to his wife and unborn kid. You never pried, you just let him tell you whatever he was willing to say.

He met up with his family once a month at most, but they rarely talked to each other on the phone. He said something about brother wanting to get closer with him, but their age gap and different life experiences made it awkward and hard to connect. He also still held a bit of resentment for how his parents broke up and his dad immediately remarried.

His disappearance during his time at the Squid Games combined with his isolation due to his grief also meant he lost the majority of his friends. The only one he had lived abroad, all the way in Switzerland. In short, he was in the perfect condition to be lured back to the Squid Games.

Inho was so starved for any sort of social interaction that it only took around two weeks for regular meet-ups to be arranged, and around a month for daily conversations through text. You were essentially his unpaid sugar baby, not that you’ve gone that far yet. You still needed to find a way into his pants.

Around three months after meeting him, you messed up big time. You two were walking down the street after having dinner together, the usual. It was a quiet night, with no one around, and he had cracked a joke that made both of your laughs echo throughout the streets.

After stopping by an empty park and playing around with the slides and swings, there was a brief moment when you noticed him staring at your lips. Being the opportunist you were, you closed your eyes and leaned in, but instead of feeling his lips on yours, a warm hand firmly covered your mouth. Once he removed it, you could clearly see the shine of your lip gloss on his hand despite the dim streetlights.

“I don’t want this kind of relationship, and you’re still too young for me,” he said curtly, walking away without a word, leaving you dumbfounded.

You silently screamed to yourself once he was out of sight. It was the worst calculation error you’ve ever made in your life. You thought that since the light had come back in his eyes because of your presence that this calculated kiss would definitely work on him. You underestimated how much he loved his wife.

‘Too soon,’ you thought to yourself, wondering how you were going to come back from this mistake.

In the end, you couldn’t. The conversations dried up immediately, and all your attempts to meet up with him were met with silence. He even had the audacity to leave you on read, driving you crazy. Being left on read was one of your biggest pet peeves. Eventually, you had to give up on him just like your dad did.

-

A month before the the 2016 Squid Games were held, you heard whispers of VIPs who were also interested in Inho. You managed to eavesdrop by feigning ignorance, playing on your phone with noise cancelling earbuds while your dad discussed with the other businessmen. Of course, none of them had seen your face, being perfectly hidden behind a masquerade mask.

You weren’t sure what the VIPs exactly wanted with Inho, especially because he had long won the previous year’s games. If they wanted to do something to him, wouldn’t it be easier to do it when he first won, while he was still on Jeju Island and easy to kidnap? It didn’t make any sense to you.

Turns out, they wanted him at his lowest, when he believed he had nothing to live for, to completely break him. It was apparently the idea of a female VIP who found him attractive. They would take him when he had nothing left to lose, use him like a toy, and wash their hands of him as if nothing had happened. They were certainly rich enough to completely cover up his disappearance if they wanted to.

By all means, you weren’t a saint who wanted to save him from this predicament. After all, you wanted a piece of him too. You simply didn’t want him to completely break and then get tossed aside. He was too useful for you to waste his potential like that.

So when he was kidnapped and brought back to Jeju Island, you jumped at the opportunity to bring him back to your side. The VIPs were quite serious about him, judging by how they had him cleaned up while he was unconscious and left him in only a robe for their easy access. Even the bed was huge, enough for multiple people to lay on it at once. Anyone with a brain knew what would happen to him if you didn’t step in.

Every VIP knew exactly who you were. Your distinct masquerade mask stuck out like a sore thumb in the sea of full, golden, head masks that each looked like a different animal. Even if you threw tantrums or acted bratty, no one had the guts to oppose you, because pissing you off meant you’d tattle to your dad and have them kicked out from being a spectator of the games. They already pay millions annually to keep up these games, they’re not willing to risk their highlight of the year over a young woman who will eventually inherit the position of Host.

With your advantage of being able to access all the security, it wasn’t difficult for you to find out where Inho was being held. Luckily, it seemed you didn’t have to try too hard to find him in the maze of VIP rooms, because he was only a hallway away. He had already awakened by the time you found him, and was trying to find a way to pick his handcuffs.

You speedwalked to his room. Running was not an option in your heels, especially because you hadn’t broke them in yet. You brought the masterkey of all the locks with you, since you were sure the VIPs had taken the handcuffs from one of the toy bins in the lounge. Even if you were wrong, you could always pick his lock.

You slowly cracked the door open and pushed slowly, wincing at the sound of the creaks. He was visibly startled by your presence, trying to appear brave but you could clearly see him trembling slightly.

“Get away from me!” He yelled as you approached him, causing you to immediately cover his mouth.

“Shhhhh!” You shushed through gritted teeth. “Do you want them to discover you before I even take your handcuffs off?”

He immediately shook his head. “That’s what I thought,” you mumbled as you freed him from his handcuffs. You noticed the red chaffing on his wrists as he rubbed them.

“Where are we?” He asked firmly, although his voice wavered.

“Jeju Island. The 2016 Squid Games are currently under production,” you answered.

“Squid Game? I already won last year! Why am I back in this dreaded place?!” He whisper-yelled, shaking you by your shoulders.

“What do you think?”

“..Am I a wanted man?” He was starting to get nervous.

“Yes, but not in the way you think. The VIPs want to host an orgy in this room.”

“So you’re saying they want to rape me,” he responded dejectedly after a moment of silence.

“Bingo. But I’m willing to save you, but not without my own conditions,” you offered.

“Great. My options are getting raped and your unknown ulterior motives,” he groaned.

“I can guarantee whatever I ask of you is leagues better than what the VIPs will do to you once they get here. With them, your asshole will never close up again, and they might even kill you and cover up your disappearance as if you’d never existed,” you reasoned.

Inho sat down on a nearby couch and buried his head in his hands. The sound of footsteps could be heard from afar, but you weren’t going to pressure him. Yet.

“What’s your offer?” He finally gave in.

“You’ll be my right-hand man. Your role will be determined later. Also, I do want to play with you every now and then,” you responded.

“You’re going to rape me too?” He whisper-yelled, his face getting red with anger.

“I wouldn’t go as far as to say that. I’ll only do it when you agree to it, but you have to do it at some point. I won’t allow loopholes where everytime I ask you, you just reject me. Both my conditions need to be fulfilled faithfully,” you explained, “So? What’s your decision.”

Inho’s jaw was clenched as he trembled with anger, the glare in his eyes defiant. He appeared even more lively than the three months you were in contact with him. The VIPs were wrong about him having nothing to lose. Clearly, even when he had nothing but a pile of money that couldn’t buy him an ounce of happiness, he still had his pride.

As the footsteps drew closer, you observed as Inho peered at the door, contemplating the most important choice he would ever make in his life. Either way, his pride and dignity would be ripped from him, it all depended on whether or not he would be alive after it was ripped away.

Mere miliseconds before the VIPs burst through the door, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, his head hung with shame for what he was about to do. “I accept your offer.”

You internally cheered. “Good choice.”

As a large group of VIPs poured into the room, you turned to face them with a smile. “Wow, I didn’t know you’d gotten me a gift! You all are so sweet!” You exclaimed excitedly, trying not to giggle as they instantly froze where they stood.

“Miss, there seems to be a misunderstanding—”

“Oh,” you said dejectedly, “This isn’t for me?” You pouted, pointing to Inho.

“Miss, please. Let us explain what’s going on—”

Too late, you started your crocodile tears. All those tedious days of joining Drama club as a mandatory extracurricular and forcing yourself to stare at the mirror for hours to make yourself cry on command finally paid off. You were pretty grateful for your high school self in this moment.

The VIPs nervously glanced at each other. Some of them had come in with erections, although those were long gone due to your performance. They knew that one wrong move and they’d be thrown out of Jeju Island with swiftness.

Finally, the VIP who appeared to be the leader stepped up. It was the woman who came up with the plan. “Oh, Miss! Of course we brought him in for you! You two would look perfect together!” She came in closer, pulling you into a hug.

“If you try and pinch me, I’ll call my dad,” you whispered in her ear before she could do anything.

“You win this time, but don’t get in our way ever again,” she threatened with a whisper.

“I don’t plan on it. He’s the only one I want,” you responded in a whisper.

She pulled away after a convincing amount of time and motioned for the other VIPs to leave, leaving you alone with Inho. You could tell Inho wanted to breathe a sigh of relief as the main threat left, but he was still wary of you and your conditions.

After a bit of thinking, you shut the door the VIPs left open and took off your mask, turning to face Inho. The expression on his face was one you’d never forget. It was betrayal, shock, anger, hatred, anything and everything you can imagine.

“You— was this your idea?!” He shouted, all his wariness leaving his body, replaced with pure anger.

“Of course not. I was planning on letting you go when our conversations dried up. I wasn’t expecting the VIPs to do what they did, but what can I say? I’m an opportunist at heart! How can I not take it when they did all the work for me?” You grinned mischevously, watching as his anger slowly dissipated into resignation.

“What will happen to me if I ask you to let me go? Will you hand me back to the VIPs?” He asked, slumped on the couch.

“I don’t need to hand you back for them to immediately realize you aren’t under my protection. They have access to every player that’s ever participated in these games; they can choose to observe every moment of your life if they wish to. The only way they can’t reach you is if you’re with me,” you explained, although you couldn’t help but let a tinge of giddiness slip through.

“And who are you for you to hold so much power within these games?”

To answer this question, you walked up to him and grabbed his jaw, gripping it firmly and making eye contact with him. Now that he knew of your identity, he was less scared and you were aware he could freely break away from your grip if he wished to, but all his hope had disappeared and he surprisingly remained obedient. “I’m the daughter of the man who created these games,” you told him in a low voice, releasing his jaw.

His jaw went slack, almost as if it had broken and was no longer attached to his body. It took him a full minute for him to close it again. “Why me? Why did you have to take me out of everyone?” It was clear he still didn’t understand how he ended up in this position, despite sealing his fate the moment he decided to enter the Squid Games last year.

“You’re intelligent. You’re ruthless. You’re incredibly competent. You’re the perfect person to help manage the games, even if you don’t see your own potential yet,” you replied matter-of-factly.

“...I don’t want to be the reason hundreds of people die. I’m a police officer! I’m supposed to protect innocent civilians, regardless of their financial status!” He argued, and you almost burst out laughing.

“You’re an ex-police officer. You got fired, remember? Besides, the life I’m offering you isn’t so bad, is it? You get to sit back and relax for 9 months out of the year, only working three months prior to the annual games. You’ll never have to worry about money, being harassed or mistreated, and most importantly…” you placed your hand on his thigh, “Your desires will always be fulfilled.”

“You’re a demon,” he spat, the defiant look returning to his eyes.

“Maybe I am, but you’re the one who signed my contract and agreed to my terms, so why don’t we begin carrying out the terms now?” You snickered, motioning to the bed. “I mean, they made so many preparations just for us.”

“Fine, I’ll give you what you want. It’s the only reason you chased after me in the first place,” he snarled, his hands gripping your waist hard enough to leave bruises as his lips crashed into yours, as if to assert the dominance he didn’t have.

Unsurprisingly, he was an amazing kisser, although anyone with eyes could’ve seen that coming from a mile away. You had no doubt he was a retired playboy who left a trail of broken hearts everywhere he went before he decided to settle down. He was a biter too, nipping on your bottom lip just hard enough to make you gasp, but not enough to draw blood. As you two made out, you decided you’ll never doubt your intuition ever again.

You broke the kiss as his hands travelled to your ass, pushing him away slightly. “Why’d you stop? This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” He mocked, causing you to roll your eyes.

“You’re going to learn to be obedient,” you declared, motioning for him to get on the bed, which he hesitantly obliged to.

“Lean on the headboard and lift your arms above your head,” you ordered, which he questioned silently with a raised eyebrow. You had to pull out a walkie to implicitly threaten him into submission. You pulled out a pair of pink fluffy handcuffs and cuffed his wrists together, making sure to attach it to the headboard so he couldn’t move very well.

“I didn’t know you were into that kind of thing,” he commented, the one of the only unmalicious things he said while in this room.

“I wasn’t the one who bought it, and I’m only using it to make sure you don’t choke me during sex or something along those lines,” you explained, gently raking your nails down his chest as you opened his robe until you reached his stomach. His body was lean, yet muscular from his time as a police officer, but it was obvious he wasn’t at his peak condition.

“Your intuition is unnecessarily strong,” he said before freezing as you placed a chaste kiss on his neck, still raking your nails through his torso.

You climbed onto his lap before you continued, although this time, you amped it up with the occasional lick. Turning up the intensity even further, you started nipping, kissing, and licking his neck until you found a particular spot that made him gasp. Grinning to yourself, you latched on and sucked, smiling into his neck as an even louder gasp escaped his lips. You knew you were getting him riled up, evident by the bulge pressing against your ass.

It made you even determined to make him scream when you pulled away, witnessing the litany of hickeys on his neck that would surely bruise in the upcoming days while he struggled to catch his breath. Perhaps you were too old for them, but you justified it using the looming threat of the VIPs.

“Stay with me, we haven’t even gotten started,” you laughed, moving down to his chest as you palmed his cock through the cloth of the robe, causing him to shudder beneath your touch. It seemed that no matter how severe his grief was, his body would always react in front of an attractive woman. You doubted he even touched himself at all after his wife passed, considering how he wallowed in bed and only got up to eat and shower.

You slowly untied the belt around his robe and pushed the cloth aside, his cock springing up in front of your face. You were actually a bit scared it would slap you in the face. After taking a good look, you realized it was the biggest cock you’ve ever had, not that you’ve had much experience with well-endowed men. You preferred men who were closer to the average 6 inches considering your petite stature, but now you were face to cock with 7 inches. Not a horse by any means, but still larger than what you were used to.

“Why are you staring at it like that?” Inho asked, a hint of a chuckle in his voice, as if amused by your internal battle.

“I usually go smaller..” you mumbled to yourself, giving his tip a cautious lick. The moment your tongue touched his tip, it twitched violently and he sucked in a deep breath, likely to avoid making any sounds.

His reaction gave you the confidence to be a little bolder. Slowly, you took him in your mouth until you felt him hit the back of your throat. Your mouth wasn’t big enough to take him all in, but it didn’t stop him from instantly throwing his head back. If you’d been any less experienced, you would’ve definitely gagged and thrown up on the spot, but your body count was between you and god. You slowly began bobbing your head up and down, swirling your tongue on the underside of his shaft.

The whole time, he’s as stiff as a statue. His eyes are squeezed shut, and he’s biting his lips so hard you swear you see blood.

‘He looks so pathetic,’ you think to yourself as you take your mouth off his cock, watching him buck his hips at the sudden loss of stimulation. When it looks like he’s calmed down a little, you blow air on his cock, and he groans, clearly caught off guard.

Something snaps within you, and you start stroking his cock with your dominant hand, making sure to occasionally swipe his swollen tip. By now, he’s struggling against the cuffs. It’s so obvious he wants to pin you down and just take what he needs, but that’s exactly why you have the cuffs in the first place. He needs to learn obedience and patience.

When it looks like he’s about to cum, you stop, and he sits there, shaking and gasping for breath. “Why’d you stop?” He asked between gasps.

“You’re not allowed to cum. Not yet, at least,” you grinned at him. If you had a mirror in front of you, you would surely be twins with the Grinch.

“So that’s what this is about?” He sighed, his body stiffening again as you licked his tip.

“I like how you look right now, that’s all,” you replied before taking him back in your mouth, and he instinctively thrusted. You immediately took him out again, coughing a little. “If you do that again, I’m gonna leave you like this for two hours.”

“Okay, I’m sorry. I won’t do it again. Please don’t do that,” he backtracked, the only thing on his mind was his overwhelming need to climax.

You gave the base of his cock a hard squeeze as a warning before opening your mouth and welcoming it back in, reveling in every twitch. Looking up at him, he was once again trying to keep his mouth shut the best he could. You hadn’t even begun sucking yet, and it seemed like he was already close to cumming in your mouth.

You repeated the process of blowing him, stroking him, and teasing him with repeated edging. You hadn’t exactly set a timer to decide when you were done toying with him, but you knew for sure you either wanted him to scream or start crying.

Usually, for this type of sex, according to your friend who was well-versed in BDSM, you needed stuff like safewords to avoid going too far, but this time you decided to gloss over it because you wanted to push Inho to his absolute limit. You could always go slower and gentler later. It didn’t seem like he was familiar with this either.

In the end, your goal of making him scream and cry were both achieved. He stopped holding back his voice around the 30 minute mark, moaning as if no one except you could hear him. He didn’t exactly burst into tears and start sobbing, but you did see a stray tear drip down his cheeks. That was your sign to stop teasing him.

You checked the clock. It was exactly one hour after you had initially started, and you decided it was more than enough. Taking your hand off his cock, you reached for your panties and slowly slipped them off your legs. You didn’t even realize how wet you’d gotten.

You figured you didn’t need any prep or foreplay because of how wet you were, so you lined your pussy at his tip and slowly put it in, feeling the pain and pleasure of him stretching you and filling you up. “Don’t move your hips, you warned him,” as you went excruciatingly slow.

When you finally bottomed out, he let out a loud gasp followed by an equally loud moan. You can tell it took everything in him to listen to your words and not start thrusting like a madman. Brushing his wet bangs out of his eyes, you leaned forward and cupped his face.

“You can cum now,” you smiled, and boy did he take you up on that offer. He came immediately after those words left your mouth, his cock twitching violently in your pussy as he spilled rope after rope. He could barely moan at this point, only loudly gasping for just enough air to enter his lungs.

You waited for him to come back down to Earth to remove yourself from his cock, undoing his handcuffs. A few blisters were forming from the extreme chafing, and you frowned a little, making a mental note to apply ointment on his wrists later.

As he sunk into the bed and laid there breathing heavily, you presented your pussy to him. “Clean up your mess, will you?” You asked sweetly, and he was too consumed with lust to argue with you.

He pulled your hips down so you were firmly sitting on his face, his strong arms preventing you from squirming. He fucked you with his tongue, slurping up all his cum without complaints, making you see stars. Once he couldn’t taste any more of his cum, he moved to your clit and sucked, scissoring you open with two fingers at a punishing pace. You could tell he was trying to make you orgasm as fast as possible, not that you cared because you were too blissed out to even feel the effects of time. Seconds felt like minutes and minutes felt like hours.

Your fingers gripped and tugged at his hair, impossibly trying to force him even closer. His warm, sweaty scalp was the only thing keeping you from believing you’d entered a completely different realm, and you swear you scratched it up until it bled.

You reached your orgasm with a scream, and Inho, the sneaky bastard he was, prolonged it by continuing to finger you until you were so spent you collapsed onto the bed. That was definitely his way of taking revenge on your actions of edging him for an hour.

Once both of your breaths steadied, you sat up and were about to walk to the toilet when Inho suddenly sprang up. “Wait! We didn’t use protection!” He pointed out nervously.

“It’s fine, I have an IUD,” you responded sleepily. You wanted to hurry up and put ointment on his wrists and pass out for 12 hours.

Inho calmed at your revelation, and laid back down on the bed. By the time you returned, he was nearly asleep when you woke him up again with the sting of the ointment. “Seriously? Can’t you do it tomorrow morning?”

“If you want to get an infection, sure,” you sassed, and he instantly shut up, letting you do whatever was necessary.

You climbed into bed with him, too tired to clean up or care about clean sheets. You slept on the opposite of him, as far as you could be, but you knew that you had won him over for good.

As you imagined the future glory of the Squid Games under your combined efforts, you fell asleep with a smile on your face.

‘He’s so mine.’

[p-imchan]

⠀ # p-imchan :⠀ ⠀ • ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ KAIZEN MAYARI

⠀ ⠀⸻ ⠀ ⠀ born KODAWARI, youngest descendant of the こだわり family, one of the most influential families in Japan, known for their wealth and huge fashion empire. She embodies the pure perfection of the family and will inherit the entire empire. From an early age, Mayari was molded into something great. Passion, excellence and perfection are the most important things. The future of the family rests on ⠀ ⠀ her — she was born to change worlds.

⠀⠀ (storybase linked with @koi-no-yokan-kaizen )

open ⠀for ⠀conversation⠀& ⠀plotting ⠀in ⠀german ⠀or english, ⠀but ⠀german ⠀is ⠀preferred, ⠀21+, ⠀only in character talk, ⠀semi active, ⠀answer can sometimes take a while.

[hollowed-theory-hall]

i don't remember in which book, but there is an episode where Narcissa takes Draco away from a clothing store (Madame Malkin, I think) because they cater to muggleborns. i understand it was a political statement...

but with that in mind, question is: how far is pureblood bigotry actually goes?

are there shops exclusively for purebloods and we just don't know about them bc harry didn't go there, or were they decades ago... do purebloods buy products invented by blood traitors like the Potters and Weasleys? after all, they are good quality, but it is not good to give money to dirt yk. at the same time, most shops probably fall away from public bigotry bc even if they are run by purebloods who believe in pureblood supremacy, they will still serve everyone, because money in the first place.

this is an interesting topic for research, in my opinion, and very comparable to reality

Like, my immediate answer was: Very far.

I mean, once the most blood purists of their society gain control of the ministry they are literally rounding up muggleborns to be sent to Azkaban.

That being said, casual blood purity, like you mention, seems to not go as deep as Narcissa would like you to believe. Like, we see Draco using Peruvian Instant Darkness Powder in book 6, which was invented and only sold by Fred and George. I think, like with a lot of irl bigotry, it's a lot of performance.

Like, blood purists would talk a lot about not buying from filth and mudbloods, but if a blood traitor has a good idea or a good product — they don't put their money where their mouth is. They'd buy from blood traitors and muggleborns if it's the better product. They do copy ideas from the muggles. Like, I'm sure blood purists who have access to the Floo ridicule the concept of the Hogwarts Express and the Knight Bus, thinking of them as filthy muggle inventions; but I'm certain they were all too glad to bring indoor plumbing into Hogwarts and their mansions because it's an invention they liked.

We also see a dark pureblood store like Borgins & Burkes hire filthy, poor, orphan Tom Riddle. He was good at his job, he probably wasn't paid a lot, and so it didn't matter his blood purist employers/customers thought he was a mudblood and filth if he was good at what he did. They'd hire, buy and sell to muggleborns and blood traitors if there is money on the line.

We see this attitude with Slughorn as well. He's surprised by Hermione and Lily being muggleborns and exceptional witches and potion makers because he doesn't expect it (the bigotry of low expectations, which we also see irl). But, he does invite them into the Slug Club and he expects them to then be able to get into positions they usually can't because he basically vetted them as 'talented filth'. They're okay and good to hire by purebloods because they're good at what they do. Now, I don't think Slughorn is a bad person, and he's actually doing a very useful service for talented muggleborns in the bigoted society they live in by opening doors for them, but I digress.

I think it's telling that an ancestral house of The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, the "always pure", is a muggle house. Grimmauld Place is a house built by muggles, for muggles, that the Blacks decided to have as their own. They have muggle plumbing, muggle baths, muggle toilets, and muggle wallpaper, and they like it. but if you asked them, they'd call their house a "wizarding home", even if every brick was put in its place by muggles without a drop of magic.

We are told by Pottermore a good chunk of the Malfoys' inherited wealth is muggle. Their manor is also, most likely, muggle-built. They live their pureblood lifestyle, thinking themselves oh so much better than blood traitors when the food on their table was put there by muggle money. That the reason they can act the way they do, that they have more money than the Weasleys — is because their ancestors made business deals with muggles. And they know it but choose to pretend to have forgotten.

The point is, yes, blood purists would talk all day about how they want no filth in their house and how everything muggle is lesser, but when muggles/muggleborns/blood traitors have something good going, when they have a good product or are themselves talented, they'd be blind to their filthy blood for the sake of money/good idea. They'd tell themselves whatever lies they needed to tell themselves to believe they weren't blood traitors for installing a toilet. That they're not supporting muggle ideas by living off of muggle instructors.

They're bigoted hypocrites is what I'm saying.

[pluto01doesart]

5 Reasons Why Tsukasa Doumyoji is Twisted To Begin With... (Sorta)

HIS UPBRINGING:

This crazy dude grew up in a lonely environment, despite having everything he ever wanted handed to him on a silver platter most of his life. he felt neglected, abandoned, from a young age. Even if he had his sister around, his parents hardly ever talk to him unless it's BUSINESS RELATED.

At least he has the F4, but even so he developed all types of issues growing up...because of Tsubaki's beating and lack of right experience in disciplines and authority, (manga mainly.)

He was mostly influenced by the high and mighty people of the rich society, given that he comes from a billionaire family. He used the power of his own wealth and money, even wrongly methods to achieve his somewhat toxic goals. He's abusive most of the time only because he was judged by his intimidating looks and being also part of the F4.

HIS MOTHER:

He's like another clone of her but compared to him she's way worse and bitchier. Her ways sometimes could've also had the possibility of influencing him growing up. But that wasn't it, his case turned out much more different thanks to this gal.

A Boy With A Wounded Heart Who Wants Nothing But To Be Loved.

He came to learn eventually that not everything can be bought or obtained the way you wanted it to, his character development is STILL INSANE TO ME!

HIS SIMPLE MINDEDNESS:

In a way, it was the case when it came to his actions. He was rather pushy and forceful because he was so desperate for love and care from those around him, he just didn't express himself quite well because he was so closed off as a child which is a reason he became inhumane at times, he needed someone that could tolerate his personality and yet correct the error of his ways no matter how far they went.

Since he thought that he could always get what he wanted with power, money and shit...he had to learn the hard way that humans from middle-class families aren't tools just because you act above them and ya always gotta be on top.

HIS SELF PRIDE AND ARROGANCE:

A person like him doesn't take a no for an answer or something he inherited from his old hag, however that's part of his personality as long as it's friendly and amusing- but when it's used for reasons like revenge and paybacks In a despicable way then it's super toxic. He's too blind to actually take action of his responsibilities and everything and needs someone to rebuke him like 24/7 because he's that naive, innocent and ignorant

His character was ORIGINALLY SUPPOSED TO BE FLAWED AND A TOTAL RED FLAG!! That's how character development happened. Without this shit the story would not have any starting points, however that does not excuse how abusive he was! In both the anime and manga that's why I personally tended to avoid watching the anime.

Still as a person who usually doesn't prefer live action over anime j or k even c dramas, I would personally still choose the homeland of this Shojo which is Japan.

Hating his guts at first I wanted to see the outcome of his evolution throughout their crazy journey together from enemies to friends then lovers. But for the past two years my obsessions with all the versions haven't really died down.

Their variety of personality in the F4 group is ceaseless. My personal fav is Akira the same one who holds the group together, to me he's way more underrated than the other two.

Also Jun actually portrayed the character beautifully I don't think anyone else could've done it like he did!!

[triptychgrip]

Loving your colonizers and the “heavy-handedness” of Babel, or the Necessity of Violence

I’m certain others would be able to articulate this with far more elegance and persuasion, but one of the primary criticisms I’d heard before getting around to reading RF Kuang’s speculative fiction novel Babel, or the Necessity of Violence, is that it is too heavy-handed with its core message, and doesn’t trust its readers enough to know the evils inherent to colonialism/the greed of the British empire. That it’s too didactic in the delivery of its take-aways.

Which, to some extent I could agree with at certain points while reading, but on the whole…have the people wielding these criticisms looked into the concept of “loving your colonizers”? Because that’s definitely a thing.

I’m speaking as the Sri Lankan-American daughter of immigrants who settled in the United States in the 1980’s and, who even decades after leaving their home, seem to take great pleasure in pointing out to anyone who bothers to listen that if it weren’t for the British empire (and other colonizing entities like the Portuguese), Sri Lanka would be a dump of “utter depravity” and “backwardness”. It might also be relevant to add that they are devout Catholics and have a fondness for spouting off information on Catholic missionary history in SL *vomit*

My parents are so quick to focus on the benefits that SL seemingly inherited from empirical interests, like the roads/transportation system — which, perhaps at the risk of stating the obvious, were built for the sake of various colonial interests in order to speed up the efficiency of tea leaf transportation, and in no way was a charitable gesture for the country’s overall economic health — that they wholly miss the grotesque wealth extraction that left the country in shambles, at the same time that its power-hoarders came off looking like (white) saviors.

I could go into all the why’s behind the cognitive dissonance, but it’s taken me far too long to realize that the answer is super simple: survival. Reconciling the full extent of exploitation woven into SL history would be inconvenient, especially when my parents’ Catholic faith was what they clung to most as immigrants in the US. While I can’t begrudge them for finding solace in their faith, I suspect I’ll always carry a lot of grief around how much religion and whiteness (at the expense of celebrating our culture) was centered in my life/my siblings’ lives as a result.

The sentiment of a country needing to be colonized in order to save its inhabitants from backwardness, savagery, primitiveness (and its associated concepts like indolence, stupidity etc.) shows up time and time again in Babel, but every time that I started to think “ok, ok, we get it already, that’s such a fucked up way of thinking, who would even argue over this??”, I immediately thought of my parents.

Now if only I could get them to read it…

[starsfic]

The Deer Prince

Summary:

Prince Qi Xiaotian finds a beautiful scarlet deer on Flower Fruit Mountain while Prince Red of the Demon Bull Clan goes missing.

Once upon a time, there were two kingdoms.

One was the Demon Bull Kingdom, ruled by the Demon Bull King and his beautiful wife, Princess Iron Fan. DBK had inherited a small kingdom and turned it into a vast empire, sending more and more soldiers out to take more and more land and even more wealth. Often, he himself led the charge, swinging his mighty battle axe to cut his enemies down. She, with her own fierce strength and power over the wind, was left to defend their capital as well as their most prized possession- their son, Red Boy. They wished to rule over the world, as well as give their son everything he ever wanted.

The other was Mount Huaguo, also known as Flower Fruit Mountain, ruled by the legendary Monkey King Sun Wukong. Sun Wukong had started as nothing more than a simple monkey, born from stone. However, through learning and cultivating his magic, as well as some stealing, Sun Wukong had become immortal, powerful beyond anyone’s wildest expectations, and his desire for more was frightening. His fear of death was more frightening. Slowly, though, thanks to a pilgrimage he had to take with a band of loyal friends, his desire for more power faded. It came to an end when he discovered that, in his absence, the mountain had produced another little monkey. Sun Wukong took the little one in as his child, dubbing them Qi Xiaotian, and his worries about death faded.

In the beginning, Sun Wukong and the Demon Bull King were good friends, sworn brothers in arms, and even lovers for a short while. However, a distance grew between them. It did not help that, in all his conquests, the empire that DBK had built was starting to fall apart.

Years of war had left his army exhausted and his treasury running close to empty. Slowly, battles began to be lost, and DBK found himself pushed back more and more, pressure growing when the edges of his empire took advantage of the distance revolted. Princess Iron Fan found herself having to deal with riots as taxes on the people increased. In all of this, Red Boy grew into a young man proud of his heritage but frustrated by his parents’ refusal to let him help. His only method of aid was building robotic soldiers and servants for his parents, a staff, and an army that would never tire.

Eventually, DBK swallowed his pride. He took Red Son with him to Flower Fruit Mountain to ask Sun Wukong for help. Over the years, Qi Xiaotian had grown, turning into a lovely and powerful young man. Surely, DBK reasoned, a marriage between the two would be beneficial to their kingdoms, with the wealth of the mountain and Red Son’s knowledge. Sun Wukong had tried to reach out to repair their brotherhood, after all.

Much to their shock- DBK, Red Son, and even Qi Xiaotian watching the meeting in secret- Sun Wukong refused. Qi Xiaotian was the most precious thing to him, after all, and he did not want his son to live on the edge of poverty, much less in civil war. Stunned and angry, Red Son decided to find another way to fix his family’s fortune…

“So he said no, just like that?”

“Just like that! And I can get why, but it’s…” Qi Xiaotian sighed, staring up at the blue sky. “I don’t know.”

A head rested next to his. “What did you think of the prince?” Long Xiaojiao asked. She had been Qi Xiaotian’s best friend since they came out of the egg. She knew him best.

“He was…really handsome,” Xiaotian admitted, face growing warm at the memory. Prince Red had hair like fire, scarlet embers glowing in the warm sunlight. Like his father, he was a bull, smaller and shorter but still visibly strong. Xiaotian, watching from the window, had been immensely drawn to the sight of him. His first thought had honestly been I wonder if he could pick me up. He was willing to bet the answer was yes, since he was smaller than him. “He had big biceps.”

“Ah, yes, biceps,” Xiaojiao said, nodding. “You and your fascination with them.” Xiaotian flicked his tail against her head. She didn’t understand it, but he didn’t get her fascination with long legs, so they were equal. “So, did he say anything?”

“I think he brought some of his inventions to show what he could provide, but he didn’t get very far down the list.” It was enough to show that he was smart, way smarter than Xiaotian could say for himself. “He did have a nice voice.” And very nice horns-

"Um, your Highness?"

His thoughts about the horns stopped. "Yes?" Xiaotian sat up at the sight of the nervous-looking servant, one wearing a massive shiner. "What happened?!"

"Well, there's a strange animal acting strange, and some of us tried to catch it to see if it was alright." Made sense, his father protected all of Flower Fruit Mountain, including the animals. Any signs of disease were quickly caught and treated. "But it's lashing out, and your father and the generals are in a meeting. It's in your private grotto, and we were hoping you could-"

"I'm already on my way," Xiaotian scrambled to his feet, reaching a hand back to help Xiaojiao. "Show us this animal."

The servant wasted no time in leading them out of the garden and down the path, splitting away from the main path down a small side path. As they rushed down it, Xiaotian could hear cries and yells.

"What kind of deer is this?!"

"Run for your life!"

"Duck!"

"AH!"

The servant shoved some bushes aside, revealing one of his private groves, and Xiaotian felt himself come to a stop at the scene.

First, there were several monkeys, all nursing cuts and bruises. One even had an arm twisted the wrong way. Not all of them wore servants' or guards' uniforms. Some wore simple clothes. Baskets of fruit had been scattered around in the chaos, peaches smashed beyond recognition.

And there was the deer.

It was unlike any buck Xiaotian had seen before. For one thing, its horns were strangely thick, to the point that it had to be hurting the poor thing despite its large size. Another thing was that its eyes were strangely intelligent, fiercely flashing as it kicked and bucked. And, the last thing, its fur was a deep scarlet red, not unlike the hair of the prince who had recently come to visit.

Xiaotian shook his head. He couldn't get distracted by thoughts of Prince Red, not now. Instead, he rushed forward, coming between the buck and a servant. "STAND DOWN!" he yelled to the guards, forcing them to lower their weapons.

The buck came to a stop.

Xiaotian blinked and slowly held up his hands, showing that he had no weapons. He and his father shared the staff that could move mountains, and it was currently with Sun Wukong in his meeting. "It's okay," he said to the deer, keepng his voice soft and pleasant. "It's okay. We don't want to hurt you. We just want to make sure you're okay." He raised a hand up, dropping his eyes to the scarlet coat.

Slowly, he felt the deer lean forward until the softness of its forehead pressed against his palm. Xiaotian allowed his other hand to move forward, gently running his hand over the coat, feeling a happy laugh escape him at the feeling. He had never been able to pet a deer, despite the lovely deer that frolicked on the mountain.

He pulled his hands away once he felt the deer relax. Xiaotian carefully raised his hands to his head and pulled off the scarlet ribbon that tied his hair back. "Xiaojiao," he called to his best friend. He hear the rasp of her jade sword settling back into its sheath. "Can you run to the stables and ask them to prepare a stable for my little friend here?"

"Uh, sure. Do you want me to get the vet too?"

"That'll be great!" Xiaotian was more focused on gently wrapping the ribbon around the buck's neck, making a leash out of his ribbon. He expected the deer to kick and bite, but it remained still, excluding a small, impatient stomp. Once it was done, he had a leashed deer who gently followed behind him.

He left his grove silent, his subjects gaping after him.

The stables had a small stall set up by the time Xiaotian arrived. The deer looked a little nervous as they stepped inside, and Xiaotian couldn't blame him. The stables were full of horses- at least three were stolen from Heaven when Sun Wukong served as the bimawen, while the other five were either gifts or horses that the Monkey King had wrangled himself. Second to the monkeys, these were Sun Wukong's favorite creatures, and he made sure they were well-kept. "Uh, here, my prince," the stable master said, leading Xiaotian to the stall at the end.

Sweet new hay had been set up, with a trough full of grass and a small thing of salt. Xiaotian settled into the hay and the deer followed, sweetly settling next to him and setting his head in his lap. "Wow!" Xiaojiao said from the doorway. "He's nothing like before. What did you do?"

“I don’t know,” Xiaotian admitted. He paused his pets, and the deer butted his hand, forcing him to start the gentle movements again. “I just told him to stop, and he did.” He turned his smile to the deer. “You’re just a scared little sweetie, aren’t you?” he cooed.

It might’ve been his imagination, but the deer seemed to roll its eyes.

-_-

Xiaotian loved his new pet.

As it turned out, the deer was not sweet. The stable master had made the mistake of trying to feed him, still amazed by its appearance, and the deer had bit him. Any stable boys were promptly kicked and bit until Xiaotian had arrived. At the very sound of his voice, the deer had calmed.

So, it was agreed. Xiaotian was the only one allowed to approach the deer. He didn’t mind. The buck was nice to him, even though he felt sassy to the point of brattiness sometimes. Still, he allowed him to brush out his fur, feed him, and take him out on walks. (He had tried to take some of his father’s horses out, but the deer had stomped its foot until the stable master took the reins. Xiaojiao had tried to join, but one attempted kick from the deer was enough.) Xiaotian had found a lovely meadow next to a waterfall, and there he grazed the deer.

Out there, alone with nothing but the deer and his thoughts, Xiaotian found himself talking to the deer. 

At first, it was nothing but notes on drawing his new pet. “You’re so energetic!” he said, scratching the deer’s head. “You’re giving me lots of practice for dynamic poses.” For the next few minutes, it felt like the deer was posing, allowing him to scrawl out the weird horns (the vet had no explanation for the horns) and the buck’s large chest.

Slowly, though, more thoughts came out. Some were just kingdom gossip that his father told him during dinner. Some were his own thoughts, mostly around his rejected engagement. “I wished I could’ve drawn him,” he admitted as the buck rested against him. “He was beautiful. Not like you-” The deer snorted with a vain little flick of his head. “Definitely not like you. You don’t have his eyes.”

Those amber eyes had seared into his skin, matching the warmth of the flames he so easily wielded. Xiaotian could imagine those amber eyes staring into his own, studying him with every inch. He sighed, shutting the book. “But, hey, at least I have you.”

It might’ve been his imagination again, but the buck looked sad.

That night, at dinner, his baba seemed… weird. Uneasy. He picked more at his food than ate it, and considering his appetite, Xiaotian had to ask. “Are you feeling alright?”

“Oh, well…” Sun Wukong looked around as if expecting to see someone eavesdropping. Most of the monkeys were in the dining hall, eating their food or talking with each other, the din rendering any attempts at eavesdropping moot. “Red Son is getting married.”

Xiaotian’s heart did a weird thing, a mix between a squeeze and an ache. “Really,” he said, trying to sound calm. “Who to?”

“Some noblewoman named Ivory Lady. The issue is that Red disappeared the day after I rejected his courtship of you,” Wukong stared at his bowl, his brows furrowed tight. “Apparently, he went on a quest for some way to reverse his family’s fortune. And then suddenly, he appeared out of nowhere with this random older woman?” Wukong picked up a slice of peach and bit into it almost savagely. “Maybe it’s just me…” He didn’t explain why he was concerned.

Xiaotian’s heart was busy doing that weird ache-squeeze.

He found himself not touching his dinner either, excusing himself as soon as he could. Xiaojiao was back home, visiting her great-uncle, so he found himself stumbling to the stable.

He shouldn’t have been surprised. DBK had been desperate to set Red up with a good match. And with things as poor as they were in the bull clan, Red would, of course, go looking for a match of his own. He just hadn’t expected it so soon, barely a month after his baba’s rejection.

The deer looked up with a mouth full of sweet cud as Xiaotian stumbled in, collapsing to his knees. The deer wasted no time snuggling up, looking up at him with those big dark eyes. It took a drop of water landing on the red fur to realize tears were rolling down his cheeks.

“I mean…of course, he would just try again with someone else…” Xiaotian sniffled, letting the tears roll down. “I wasn’t anyone special to him. We barely…barely knew each other…” Gods, he was crying over a guy he had only seen up close once. “I’m being ridiculous…”

The deer rose up, nuzzling his face. Xiaotian couldn’t help but laugh at the sweetness of the gesture.

“Yeah, I’m being stupid. Who cares if Red is getting married?” The deer’s eyes went wide. “I mean, I have plenty of opportunities- Where are you going?” The deer had stood up, looking around frantically. “Wait, hang on-” Before he could grab the collar, the deer had somehow managed to jump over the stall door. It wasn’t a full jump, leaving the deer struggling on its stomach on top of the door. In front of Xiaotian’s horrified gaze, the deer somehow managed to shimmy to the other side.

The moment he got his feet under him, the buck took off at a run.

Xiaotian scrambled past him, following the deer as fast as he could. Several screams and cries, like the first time he had been called to handle the deer, led him to the stone manor. The doors had been thrown open, and several monkeys were huddling around, clearly terrified. Xiaotian wished he could stop and comfort them, but he had to get his pet.

He finally caught up at the doors to the throne room, reaching in time to see the deer throw his head, throwing the doors open. Sun Wukong, talking with his marshals and generals, looked up, startled.

"WAIT!"

Xiaotian threw himself forward. It was the stupidest idea, but he had to try. He buried his fingers in the soft fur he had just been petting a few minutes ago and yanked down. The deer went stumbling head over heels, coming to a stop in front of Wukong.

"Sorry, baba!" Xiaotian said, desperately trying to keep the deer from moving. He hadn't bucked him off yet, which was a blessing. "He just started to freak out, I don't know what's wrong-"

"Red?"

"Huh?" Xiaotian looked up, realizing his father's eyes were glowing gold. On a guess, he looked down and allowed his gold vision to activate. (He honestly kept forgetting he had that.)

The next second he was scrambling off.

Instead of a deer, a bull demon was hunched on the floor. Those warm amber eyes, that scarlet fur...Prince Red stared up at him desperately. "...I've been keeping a prince in the stables," he managed out. There were several other issues, but that was the first he was focusing on.

Wukong's brows furrowed together. "Well, if he was in the stables, who's the Red getting married?" he asked. Red's face scrunched up in a furious look and if Xiaotian wasn't so embarrassed, he would be swooning.

“I have no idea.”

-_-

"I OBJECT!"

The wedding- sparsely but lovingly decorated- fell silent. Xiaotian's face burned, but he ignored it, focused on the couple mid-bow. The bride appeared to be an older but still beautiful woman, her features full of icy beauty. The groom was Red Son, prince of the Demon Bull King.

At least, he appeared to be.

"What is going on here?!" The Demon Bull King bellowed. He rose up, eyes narrowing on Xiaotian and his father. "Sun Wukong! You dare to interrupt! You already snubbed my son-"

"Yes, but I'm here on behalf of your son." It had taken a lot of work to figure out how to get Red here, but he trotted in, allowing Xiaotian to bury his fingers in his fur. "What appeared to be a simple but extraordinary deer caught the eye of my son. I looked upon him with my vision of truth." His voice rolled through the hall. "Do you want to know what I saw?"

Silence fell as everyone turned to stare at the frozen couple. The man pretending to be the prince was sweating while the bride just looked annoyed, especially when there was an awkward "Uh..."

'Red' squeaked as he went poof, revealing a scrawny man with big glasses and blue hair. The entire hall went silent. The woman, Ivory Lady or whatever, yanked her hands away with a disgusted noise. "I can see destiny refuses to let me walk this path," she sighed.

Red lunged forward, antlers clearly ready to gore, and she disappeared in a flash of cold blue. The man yelped, jumping off the stage just in time to avoid being gored. Two guards were immediately at his side, yanking him off his feet and away despite his protests.

The hall fell silent as people awkwardly, without much of a word, got up and shuffled out after the false groom. DBK didn't seem to care, rushing over to help Red get his antlers out of the wall. Princess Iron Fan trailed behind, looking surprisingly calm.

"How do we fix him?!" DBK demanded, hugging Red as best as he could. "I need my son back!"

"Well...uh, I don't know, we just found him like this...!"

As the argument continued to grow, Xiaotian slipped over to Red. The transformed prince nuzzled against his face. He sighed, scratching him in that spot he liked. “It's okay, Red,” No, it wasn't okay, but Xiaotian had to believe this could be fixed. “We’ll find a way. I promise.” He leaned forward and kissed Red right between his horns, sealing his promise.

Poof.

Xiaotian blinked at the sudden smoke, feeling heat crawl up his face. Instead of a soft deer, he was face to face with muscle. He dared to look up, feeling the heat grow even hotter as his legs went weak.

Red blinked, and suddenly, his hands were around his waist, keeping him steady. Xiaotian stared at him, wide-eyed, and that heat was just growing worse as Red grinned before his feet left off the ground as the taller prince scooped him up fully in his arms as he spun, holding him tight.

He had never been so thankful for being picked up.

"Thank you," Red said, his voice low before he moved forward. The kiss was soft and pleasant, sending an electric shock up Xiaotian's spine. He pulled away, and Xiaotian wasted no time, grabbing Red's collar and hauling him close for another kiss.

At least, he tried.

"Okay, okay, make som room for Buddha!" His father shoved their faces apart, looking like he had just come to the realization that Xiaotian and Red had technically been alone for weeks. "Red has some explaining to do."

"What happened?" DBK was the first to ask, which was reasonable. "Where did you go?! Your mother and I were so worried!"

Red managed a cough. "I went to the neighboring kingdom," he said. "I heard that the king there was interested in servants that never tired." He gestured. "I was hoping that we could arrange a deal, since we've made a way to mass-produce the bull clones." Those must've been the never-tiring servants he had created. "She...I met her first. She was his advisor, but she wanted the bull clones to serve her. I refused, because I didn't trust her."

"And she turned you into a deer," Xiaotian said, slotting the pieces together. "She must've figured marrying at least someone who claimed to be you was the best way to get her soldiers."

Wukong sighed. "Well, glad we could get that solved. C'mon, Xiaotian-"

"Nope." Red started walking in the other direction, still holding him close. Xiaotian couldn't, wouldn't protest. "I made a promise to myself that I would keep him, so..."

"Wait, HANG ON-!"

Red broke into a run, leaving Wukong to scramble after him. Xiaotian didn't protest, snuggling close.

He would miss his deer. But he was happy to have his prince.

[steviestits]

In The Family Way - Part 2.1

Written for an anon prompt, which can be read in its entirety on this fic's masterpost.

Pairing: Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Background Argyle/Jonathan Rating: T (E in later chapters, the part after this one to be precise) Summary: The Munson family has never had the typical values that most modern Americans have as they find thrill in all that's mysterious and spooky. Steve Harrington, a black widow omega, hadn't known this when he mated with the family's eldest alpha, Eddie, and thought that he'd be another easy mark that he could kill to inherit the millions that Eddie owned. However, not only do all his murder attempts fail, but Eddie actually enjoys them! And to make matters worse, the alpha wants to try for a pup! Steve has to find a way to off Eddie for good, before he gets pregnant and maybe actually falls for the death-crazed alpha. (Addams Family Values au set in the Omegaverse after the events of the movie with Steve as Debbie and Eddie as Fester) Trigger Warning: Attempted Murder as a love language, Mpreg

(Link to previous part)

The first time Steve saw Eddie Munson was on the cover of Forbes magazine, covering the bout of amnesia he had before he regained his memories and his wealth returned. It was a dry article about a riches to rags back to riches again, but Steve did gleam two important pieces of information after reading the piece. The first was that Eddie Munson was as rich as an alpha could get, even richer than Steve’s two previous inconsiderate (and very dead) mates. Then the second was that Eddie was a complete idiot who answered every question in a strange, off-putting manner that made Steve certain that he’d never been with an omega, as one would run in the other direction the moment he opened his mouth. In other words, Eddie was desperate for a gentle touch, making him an easy mark.

Steve decided to play the role of affectionate caregiver after a few weeks of doing research and learning that the Munsons were having trouble keeping a nanny. From the moment he showed up on their doorstep, the obviously virgin alpha was putty in Steve’s hand. All Steve had to do was bat his eyes in the right way to have Eddie falling all over himself with an eagerness to please that Steve would’ve found cute if he actually cared about that sort of thing.

Everything had been going to plan. Sure, the children had caught onto his fake interest in the eldest alpha of their pack, but his position as nanny gave him an extra amount of leverage, allowing him to convince Argyle and Jonathan that the two wanted to go to summer camp. It had worked perfectly, and the kids were whisked away almost the next day, but even without them, Steve hadn’t foreseen what would happen on their honeymoon.

Eddie was apparently in destructible! Steve had planned to electrocute him in the tub of their suite to make it seem like an accident, only the bastard survived. No, not just survived, the fucker enjoyed it! He even thanked Steve for trying to make the vacation more fun for him, as if Steve hadn’t obviously tried to murder him by dropping a whole stereo into the water with him!

It only got worse from there. Every murder attempt failed and was met with enthusiastic praise from the alpha, who thought Steve was spoiling him. The more Steve tried, the more it became clear that he’d clearly made a mistake in thinking that he could simply do away with his mate like he did with his two previous ones. He thought to try to do away with the whole family. Surely, he’d be able to kill one of them if he tried to get them all at once, but they only welcomed Steve as a fellow Munson when his attempt ultimately failed, as well.

That didn’t mean Steve was going to give up, though. He wasn’t a quitter. Every day, he went up to the attic to try to think of new and inventive ways to murder the alpha and claim the Munson fortune for his own. He tried every combination of poisons he could find and caused accident after accident, even going so far as to try to stab Eddie in order to pass it off as a mugging gone wrong, only he still survived!

Even now, Steve had cut Eddie’s breaks before the alpha had gone out to visit his brother, but he returned in one piece, despite running into a lamppost on the way back. It was getting to the point where Steve thought that maybe he shouldn’t make it look like an accident. Maybe he’d just chop the bastard into tiny pieces then bury him under concrete after constructing a new swimming pool and guest house in the backyard.

Though, that would have to wait, as Steve was currently relaxing in bed, winding down for the day after another string of failures. He was reading his favorite fashion magazine and had just turned the page to check up on the latest fashion trends when a squeaking caught his attention. Steve glanced up to see that Eddie had opened the door to the bedroom and was nervously making his way inside, wringing his hands.

Whatever the alpha had to say, Steve didn’t care. He returned his attention to his magazine, which usually signaled to the other that he wasn’t in the mood to talk. Eddie didn’t leave, however, he continued to stand in the doorway of the omega’s private bedroom, so Steve decided to ignore him, hoping that Eddie would get the message to go away on his own.

“My love,” Eddie called. “My beloved mate. I don’t mean to bother you, my sweet pet, but I was hoping that I could ask you something.”

“I’m a little busy,” Steve replied with a scowl.

Steve continued to read the article that declared that pastels were last season. Obviously, the writer didn’t know what they were talking about, and Steve didn’t know how the editor could allow such blatant lies to be published. It was clear that neither were qualified to be employed at such a prestigious fashion magazine. He doubted the two would be fired if he called, but he figured he could do the firing himself with a well-placed car bomb.

“I know, sweetheart. That’s why it won’t take a moment of your time.”

Steve glanced up reluctantly from his magazine. “Spit it out then.”

“I was wondering if I could pleasure you this evening. I’ve been practicing. I swear I’ve gotten better. It won’t be a repeat of our honeymoon, I promise.”

Raising an eyebrow, Steve stared at his mate curiously before he said, “Fine, knock yourself out.” Then he went back to reading his magazine. He remembered their honeymoon very clearly as the virgin alpha had no idea what to do with a young omega like himself, so Steve ended up doing most of the work that night. Steve honestly didn’t believe that Eddie had improved, but he figured that he’d fulfill his marital duties if it allowed him to finally finish reading.

Part 1.2 ~ Masterpost ~ Part 2.2

[blues824]

Can I please request izuru Kamukura with a female Kalim Al-Asim reader.

🌞Her being a happy ball of sunshine that loves her s/o and likes to spoil him with gifts and loves hugging him and him finding her amusing but is protective of her.

🖤Izuru finding it amusing how different they are from each other he gets bored easily and doesn't like people and he doesn't feel emotions but his s/o loves people gets doesn't get bored easily and always show emotions.

🌞Him reacting to her food always needs to be checked for poison and her needing to be careful for kidnappers but now she has izuru and he can also protect her.

🖤Her inteduseing him to her family and realising that her inter family is like her and they are very accepting of him her mother shipping them so hard that she asks when they will marry.

🌞Her meeting him in school and bringing him food from her home country and feeding him and him just going with the flow.

🖤How would classmates react to this pair the ball of sunshine whith her dead serious goth bf .

Does this mean that I am going to open requests for Danganronpa when I finish with my current requests? Maybe. I’m just going through the anime and the game playthroughs.

Izuru Kamukura

He thought you deserved the title of The Ultimate Hope, if we were talking about it quite literally. You were painfully optimistic, as well as very naive, and he felt an urge to protect your rays of pure sunshine. He just watched as you put a charm bracelet upon his wrist, with little charms of yours and his initials with a bunch of little hearts. Your heart was filled with hope… a dangerous thing within Hope’s Peak Academy.

You were a very spontaneous person as well. He couldn’t predict what you would do next, be it present him with something or give him a hug, a kiss, hold a spoon of a food your personal chef cooked for you to his lips, etc. You’ve even once shoved crackers into his mouth because you were a bit too excited about sharing a meal with each other.

If we’re being honest, he doesn’t even trust the staff members your family hired for you. He will gladly become your taste-tester as well as your bodyguard because of his distrust in those surrounding you. You were a person of great influence and of great interest because of your family’s wealth that you were set to inherit. You were the one person who made him feel joy, so he would be damned before he let anything happen to you.

Speaking of your family, when you introduced him to them, he wasn’t too surprised that you had so many siblings. The only thing that did surprise him was the amount of times your siblings and even your mother asked about the wedding. You were flustered as well, but what Izuru did in response was the cherry on top; he said that he would ask you to marry him some time after you graduated, and your family members seemed satisfied with that answer. You couldn’t believe what he just said, but you had to admit that you were excited for it.

Whenever you both had lunch together, you would feed each other a bit of your meals. He just went with it, and it became routine. He’s the type of person to take a napkin and clean up the side of your face when you make a mess, calling you childish (affectionately) and telling you to eat over the container in case some of it spills.

All of your classmates are so shocked when he walks into the classroom with you on his back, and you are cheering out loud with him looking like a grumpy cat who got woken up. However, once he puts you down, you press a big kiss on his cheek before going off to your usual group of friends while he lingered close by, remaining vigilant.