#the power of three will set me free right

[rose-tinted-nostalgia]

it gets worse before it gets better. it gets worse before it gets better. it gets worse before it gets better. 

[yanderenightmare]

Nanami Kento

TW: yandere, NSFW, noncon/dubcon, inexperienced reader, virginity loss, size-difference, abuse of power, lies and manipulation, captive darling, age-gap

AN: thinking about a pervy sex therapist Nanami~

fem reader

You started coming to his home office once a week. 

Unsure of it all, in the beginning, you were so nervous. He looked so strict – sitting opposite you in his dark brown leather chair with such a tight expression on his face. 

But you came around to like him soon enough. 

He was a nice man. Serious but tender with you – putting out freshly baked muffins on the coffee table and always giving you a warm cup of chamomile with vanilla and honey before getting started. 

And he was knowledgeable too – had that mature air about him that seemed so polished and proficient you couldn’t help but hang off every word like it was scripture.

When he told you to stop wearing bras because they hinder natural breast growth, you listened, and when he said that keeping your pussy hairless was important for hygienic purposes, you believed him because you trusted him.

He diagnosed you with virgin anxiety and has been so patient with you ever since, helping you overcome it.

Professional enough to practice with you. Sticking a gloved finger inside your pretty pussy when you’re propped on his examination bed, testing out your tightness with words reassuring you that you just need to wait and allow your body to provide the wetness – smiling at you kindly, that way old men do, more with his eyes than his lips, when you’re weeping with slick enough to accommodate all three of his lengthy fingers inside you – squeezing on him so tight.

You gush, shaking your head while spluttering apologies when you cum around them, but he just rubs your clit slowly, with veteran steadiness – telling you it's only natural and healthy for a young woman like you to be so sensitive under a man's touch – that it’s nothing to be ashamed or scared of – on the contrary, it’s something you should feel very proud of.

He’s also kind enough to give you extra sessions – at least three times a week at his home office – sometimes even breaking his own rules, treating you to a house call, coming to your apartment for a nice little chat. 

He even assigns you daily exercises for you to do on your own – though he encourages you to call him so he can guide you through it. Instructing you to wet your fingers in your mouth first before you touch yourself down there.

He listens to your little moans filtered through the phone – bated breaths and whimpers as you get yourself all bothered and needy for more. 

He tells you to turn on the camera so he can see if you’re doing it right, and you listen – placing the phone in view of your tiny fingers struggling to reach and stuff your cute cunt.

He praises you on your good job – his own camera off, for obvious reasons – he can't have you seeing his raging shaft just yet, or how he jerks it to the sight of your tight little cunt. A deep furrow between his brows and his jaw locked tight, resolute in his plans of coaxing you into giving him your first time. He groans just thinking about it, splurting his load into his fist, listening to you moan for him. “This feels funny, Nanami-san~ Is this right? ~ Please, Nanami-san, teach me~” 

He's been coveting your virginity for months now – grooming you – making you pliant and gullible, and soon, all his patience and hard work would pay off. 

It’s cute that you don’t know it yet… but your pretty little pussy is all his.

He expertly works it into your sessions as an exercise. One he promises you’ll benefit from. Telling you your condition can be blamed on never having studied a real grown man’s cock – that, because it’s such a foreign thing to you, you end up fearing it.

He reminds you how this is a safe space – tells you that all he cares about is your wellbeing – as he sets himself next to you on the couch, his thick thigh next to yours, while buckling up his belt and zipping himself free – taking his fat erection out for you to lay your innocent eyes on.

“Here it is.” He clears his throat with a rusty sigh, sounding relieved when his manhood springs free, standing proud and fat.

His veins flex along his arm beneath dark blonde hair as he strokes the length lazily – up and down slowly. Making old noises – heavy sighs and hums – dragging the foreskin back and revealing its plush mushroomed head.

You take it in with doe eyes.

“Don’t be shy. Tell me your thoughts.”

You swallow thickly at the assignment, blinking out of your stare. Shocked and embarrassed, though curious, but also a little grossed out – you’re not sure what feeling you end up with. “Uhm- It’s very… big.”

He chuckles low at that. “Come on, you can do better. What else?” He urges you, offering another deep but light-hearted laugh. “You can be honest. It’s a little funny looking, huh?”

“Yeah-” You giggle lightly in return, though you’re still somewhat uneasy – sitting as though you plan on leaving, but staying nonetheless, at the edge of your seat – eyes glued to the chubby member, studying the curve of its spine and the veins forking their way up to its head.

“Feel up to touching it?” He asks, and your eyes snap to his – lined with crow’s feet and something so trustworthy. 

But still, you promptly shake your head in embarrassment. “Oh- no, thank you, Nanami-san-” But he’s already taken your smaller hand in his, pulling you back by guiding it to his lap. 

“No, no, little one- this is what we've been training for. You won’t get better if you don’t try.” He scolds you, voice both dismissive and reassuring all at once. “Here- feel it.” 

He wraps your tiny fingers around the stout shaft and overlaps your hand with his, helping you find the rhythm – stroking it nice and slow. 

“There you go, just like that. Good.”

You hesitate at first. Giving your lip a soft bite while thinking about his previous words.

Was he right? Are you scared because you've never looked at or touched a real penis before?

You don't want to be a virgin forever – it's embarrassing as an adult – it makes you still feel like such a silly little girl.

So... if Dr. Nanami says that this will help you overcome your fears, then you suppose...

You'll do it.

You gulp and follow his movement – up and down the large and lengthy pole.

It's so warm – pulsing in your grip, twitching at your soft touch. Skin so thin, almost rubbery, holding something much tougher than you’d imagined.

In your hand, it’s a lot bigger as well. You can’t even reach your fingers around the thickness to touch your thumb.

“All of this goes inside me?” You ask, under your breath – swallowing thickly while he leads your dainty hand downward into the hair around his base, then up to the wet tip, which pilled and trickled with white pearls getting caught between your fingers – warm and sticky.

“That’s right, every inch.” He answers – voice relaxed – pleased by how well you were doing. “Does that scare you?”

You bite your lip and rub your thighs together. “A little…”

“But it makes you feel a little warm, too, hm?” He suggests. “Makes your mouth wet? And also, that soft place between your legs?”

You make a nervous sound, digging your nails into your knee, where you let your other hand rest awkwardly. 

He hums again with a soft chuckle. “Don’t be embarrassed, little one. It’s a good thing.” He ensures, encouragingly squeezing your hand underneath his while lifting the other up to your face, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear – before sliding it across the back of your neck. “Let's see you be brave and give it a taste.”

You hesitate again – this time a little more decidedly. “I don’t think I can-” But Dr. Nanami is strong, keeping your neck in a pinch as he guides you down into a bow.

“It’s alright, I’m here to help you. Just open your mouth, and I’ll show you how.” He insists soothingly. Spreading his thighs out further while laying your head down on his lap, hips moving languidly when brushing his shaft up between your lips. 

It’s so big, so hot, pumping with warmth where you kiss it on the side on a particularly fat and throbbing vein.

He lifts you up slightly and angles the tip into your mouth, creating a cute bulge in your cheek where he rests his hand to keep you down when you flinch at the salty tang getting caught by your saliva. The taste quickly coats your entire tongue.

“Mmh- that’s a big girl~ getting her first mouthful of cock.” Dr. Nanami sighs with a groan, dropping his head back against the couch cushions while pushing up into the pouch of your cheek in lazy thrusts. It strains – makes you feel like it might poke through and make a hole.

He lets it settle there for a moment, enjoying the wet warmth and the unsure movements of your sweet tongue – not knowing where to go with all the space occupied by his meat.

But then he tangles both hands in your hair, gathering it all into a neat ponytail. And, lifting your skull up directly above, he sends his cock down your guzzle even when you whine out in meek protest.

“Breathe through your nose and try your best to swallow it down as far as your throat allows.” He instructs, keeping a tight-knit grip around your hair in one fist whilst the other hand slides down to pet your cheek in soothing circles.

Forcing it down your tight little amateur throat even when your jaw feels like it’s unlocking. 

“Good girl.” He sighed once he’d wedged himself in all the way until your lips kissed the pubes at his base.

Your smaller hands dent the muscle of his thigh, offering a meager push. Mewing out a “Mrph-” while you gag around the trunk. 

He holds you there, roosting inside your throat for another satisfying moment before easing up, pulling you up by your pony.

You gasp, halfway choked on your spit – but he's not much concerned.

“Stand up- let me feel.” He rushes out in a stiff order, ignoring how you cough and slurp for air – forcing you up to stand between his knees. 

His firm hands plant themselves on your hips, being the only sturdy thing balancing you as you wobble – unsteady when he tugs your skirt and panties down until they drop into a pool around your ankles.

He then pulls you onto his lap – seating you with your back leaning against his chest with his cock gliding up through your inner thighs, rubbing against your bare cunt.

You’re still light-headed, bracing yourself against his broad chest while he keeps one thick arm strong around your waist – holding you snug. The other jerks his manhood, tapping it against your clit in soft spit-wet slaps.

“Let’s see how it feels inside you.” He grunts against your ear, resting his chin-stubbled jaw in the dip between your neck and shoulder – looking to where he has your thighs spread over his own.

“N-no, Nanami-san-” You manage to squeak out softly with a voice both teary and hoarse from choking. “Please- I’m not ready-”

But he doesn’t listen – and any struggle you try to inflict ends up aimless where you’re barred beneath his arm – strict and tough with brawn like it’s a seatbelt on a rollercoaster ride.

“I think you're more than ready for it. Trust me.” He’s growling now – so menacingly, you don’t dare speak against it. Only watching the glossy veiny beast with bleary eyes while he rubs through your pussylips with the fat plush bulge topping it – catching your clit and making you gasp before zoning down to your pretty little twitchy hole.

You whine when it’s forced to stretch open as he nudges himself inside the pill-sized opening despite your effort to climb away from it.

“It hurts, Nanami-san!” You cry, but he doesn’t pay it any mind.

“Your virgin pussy will understand it soon. Don’t worry.” He dismisses – continuing to ease his thickness into the tautness, knowing you must be feeling close to tearing apart once his head’s finally swallowed in with a pop, followed by his inches bullying through you one by one, each feeling like a painful mile. 

You cry out, nearly screaming, “Please, Nanami-san! Take it out- it’s too much-” worming on his lap, trying to wiggle it out.

But he has you under reigns, and your struggling only results in him sinking inside you faster. Now, so deep you feel him nuzzle against your womb – and still it keeps sleaving itself until it curves against your walls and pudges out in a cute belly bulge.

“We've trained for this. You need to allow your body the time it takes to get comfortable.” He coos, sounding less on edge now that you’ve taken him inside your comfort.

His chest rumbles with satisfaction against your back as he sits there relaxed, bouncing you slackly but not too much just yet.

He keeps you seated but lifts his other arm to tug off your tiny T-shirt. 

“Here, let's take this off. It’ll help.” He excuses, and you’re a little too desperate for the relief to refuse – listening to the kindness in his voice and lifting your arms in hope, letting him fling it off.

Only in socks now. You throw your head back and whine when he twists one of your pretty nipples into a sore nub – chest arching from the contact. The arm holding you in place slides a hand between your thighs and starts circling your cute button, flicking over it with a gritty fingerprint.

The friction makes your belly bloom all sorts of colors, making you lock and quiver around that big thing he has nestled inside you, throbbing against your womb as he only gently bounces you on his lap – stretching your little pussy out generously as it suckles him so very sweetly – so very wet, drooling on his lap –squeezing him oh-so-snug.

You feel sticky after a while of twisting and refusing. Feeling so full and feverish. Neck wet from tongue and lips – so wet, spit is running slow trails down your chest, cool in the chilly open air of his home office.

You still think you want to stop, but you’re not as tense anymore – resting prettily against his chest. Moaning for each swirl he does over your budding clit – having quaked with pleasure a whole of three times already, gummy walls rippling all along his shaft as you softly loll your hips on him in return.

There’s a pool of your slick between the two of you – having drooled form where it seeps around the tight edges of where he has you stuffed air-tight, running down his balls to gloss the leather seat beneath. 

He takes it as a sign that you’re ready for the real thing. 

It’s almost unfair – how easily your smaller body is held in his hands. Maneuvered so effortlessly as he lifts your thighs up against your chest, then spreads them wide. 

He hooks your knees on his elbows and braids his fingers behind your neck. It's an awkward position, but you’re completely locked in it. Unable to do a thing except wail with moans once he starts pistoning his fat man-cock up inside you. 

It’s way worse when he stands up – bouncing you in the air – holding you folded against his chest, your legs dangling over his arms, jumping as he pounds his meat inside you, stuffing your cunt full on every deep thrust – stabbing your poor stomach until you’re screaming and squirting from the pressure.

Feeling you soak him is the last straw – so tight while spraying a hot mess.

He sits down again, lifting you off his cock before fanning your clit with four fingers – making you gush out every last drop, screaming while raining on his cock until you’ve strangled it out one final time – left shaking.

You’re then ushered down to the floor, on your knees – the top of your head leveled with Dr. Nanamis's big hand, keeping your face forward as he faps his sturdy thickness at your mouth.

“Open your mouth wide.” He orders, his teeth grit while his bulbing cockhead kisses your lips. 

You listen when he gives your little head a shake – rolling your tongue out while dropping your jaw for him.

“That’s a good girl-” He praises, placing his tip on the wet bed of your soft pink tongue, giving his cock only a few more tugs before his balls clenched hard and sent a big fat load through his cock out into your pretty little open mouth.

He groans heavily, almost angrily, squeezing every spurt out – some coming out so heavy it spills up your face and down your chin – but mostly getting caught where you have your lips parted to receive it.

“Good girl.” He repeats, taking in the sight of your painted face – so cute covered in his cum. 

He smiles.

“Now swallow it all down. And don’t waste a single drop. It's rich in vitamins young girls like you need to become proper ladies.”

You don’t want to close your mouth – you want to spit all of it out and rinse the rest with toothpaste and water. But the hand petting your head is so heavy, you don’t dare. So you swallow. Sniffling at the yucky taste once it sits warm in your stomach, still so sticky and gross on your tongue.

But Dr. Nanami seems pleased.

“Moving forward, I think you’ll benefit from closer examination.” He says. “I've made arrangements to have you institutionalized here, where I can keep a closer eye on you and offer more frequent assistance. You still have a long way to go before you’re well, little one. I’m not close to seeing the results I need in order to release you from my care.”

You’re still too shocked by the former events to look confused, but the sick feeling in your gut just keeps growing.

“Don’t worry. We’ll keep training, and soon I’ll have you turned into a proper little cock-pet.”

You want to run, but after what you’re body had just been put through, aching and screaming at you like it was your fault – you knew you wouldn’t be able to do much more than crawl, and something about the still fat cock resting its weight against Dr. Nanamis thigh told you he wasn’t done with you just yet.

“Give my cock some time to rest, and we’ll try it again later.” He confirmed your fears, still with his hand stroking your head like a pet at his feet. “Meanwhile, why don’t you tell me how your sweet pussy liked losing its virginity- and how this little face enjoyed getting its first-ever taste of cock and cum, hm?”

sequel

[aphrvdisiac]

OFF TO THE RACES.

ellie williams, abby anderson x fem! reader.

part one of to lie and love like you do.

SUMMARY | you are in a poly relationship with new york’s elite women, ellie williams and abby anderson, but living in the world of power, money, and lust possesses each one of you as the dynamic amongst you three becomes more volatile and violent.

WARNINGS | adult language. graphic violence. polyamorous relationship. abby calls reader “bunny,” ellie calls reader, “little lamb.” mentions of alcohol consumption and drug usage. possessive and obsessive behaviors. dark content: graphic details of t*rture and m*rder, men being pigs, controlling behavior. adult content: sub!reader x doms!ellabs, doing it in a confessional booth, god kink, fingering, degradation, overstimulation, edging, ball gag, strap-ons, face smacking, mommy and daddy kink, knife play w/ branding, double penetration.

NOTES | so brief explanation: this is my fic, off to the races. it used to be on my original, old account that fell under the user “angvlita” but unfortunately i deactivated that account so the fic no longer exists. anyways, all rights are reserved to me for this, and i do not want it published anywhere else. with that being said, please take into caution all the tags and warnings because this isn’t meant to be taken lightly whatsoever. ellie and abby are mean and cruel in here. thank you, and enjoy.

If Los Angeles was the city of Angels, then New York was home for all Hellbound.

You grew up in such a glistening city, where people’s facades weren’t as hidden, illicit affairs took place, and a fifteen year old was trying cocaine for the first time. It held beauty just like Lucifer, having greater cruelty and an ominous essence lingering beneath its soul.

You wish you didn’t get caught up in a reckless lifestyle, that you didn’t become so corrupted that you were a girlfriend to your two best friends.

Ellie Williams, daughter to architect and businessman Joel Miller, and Abby Anderson, daughter to a famous renowned surgeon Jerry Anderson. The two had great power, control, and wealth – they fucking lived off of it. They were cruel and vicious to everyone.

Ellie was a venomous scorpion, Abby personified as such a nefarious viper. The two together were threatening, and it all surprised you when they wanted you in their circle in the early start of Junior Year, easily befriending you.

You remembered it clear as day.

You were sitting at a table, reading Jane Eyre. It was your free period, and you had not much to do, finished with any assignments.

The silence you enjoyed was interrupted when two figures sat themselves down at the table, gaining your attention as you peered up at the book, and noticed elite scholars Ellie Williams, and Abby Anderson.

They were grinning at you, eyeing you like a predator did with their prey, a cascade of goosebumps running over your skin.

“Can I help you?” You asked, bookmarking your spot before closing the book, and setting it down.

You knew it came off rude and too sharp, but their appearance made you uncomfortable, and weirded out.

“We’ve been keepin’ an eye on you,” Ellie said, and your heart sank, not knowing exactly what that mean. “We aren’t here to ruin your life, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“I mean, I don’t know,” you chuckled nervously, fidgeting with your Cartier bracelet. “You have quite the reputation.”

“So you know us?” Abby asked, and you shrugged, unsure of what else to say.

“We want to invite you out,” Ellie added, and your brows knitted together, utterly confused. How could you not be? It was a random invitation, and you didn’t have any prior interactions with them.

You just had Fine Arts Honors with Ellie, and English Literature with Abby — though, you never made any conversations with them, and you didn’t see the need to.

“Why? This is new, no?” You questioned, eyeing them back and forth in the moment the duo looked at one another, words kindling behind their eyes.

“Somethin’ about you is sweet… special,” Abby confessed, and a smile threatened to curl onto your lips. “You interest us.”

“Marrona, at 8PM,” Ellie stated, getting up with the blonde by her side. “Just come by, and if you still don’t like us, you’re free to go.”

“You’re trusting a stranger? Interesting,” you lightly joked, smiling to yourself. “The world must be ending, then.”

They smiled with you, a rare expression anyone could come across.

It was an unforgettable night that you thought of for a week before either of you approached each other again.

Many of your friends told you to not fall for it, that you’d be a laughing stock, and would only be ruined. You didn’t know how ruined you would become, and you simply wanted to know what it would be like to sit in their company.

You were sure it was because of your status — your mother was an heiress, and your father was a CEO of an advanced technology business. You were humble about your life, yet knew you had a higher position in money and glory than them. You were sure they wouldn’t just let anyone in, that they were more intelligent to let a random classmate of theirs be brought into their social circle.

The deeper you fell into their rabbit hole, you had become tainted, and cruel as them. You were their rotten apple, something they possessed and prized so admirably as you were theirs only. Before the relationship was even thought of, you weren’t allowed to talk to anyone else besides them, leaving you to drop all your closest friends, and submit only to the two girls.

Yet, they took care of you like no one else did — expensive gifts, abrupt trips to Europe, fancy dinners, and the sex they gave you.

God, the fucking sex.

It was them at the same time, or one coming to your place to claim you entirely. You didn’t mind it, no, you had become so immune to being theirs, you would please them.

You don’t exactly remember how the polyamory relationship came to be; you were getting closer with Abby, Ellie didn’t like it, and the two had come to the idea of sharing you, right before twelfth grade. You weren’t opposed to it, but hated the twisted repercussions that tied into it.

During all of Senior Year, you weren’t allowed to go out without them by your side, or at least one of your bodyguards. You couldn’t get drunk, only at home, and that’s it; they had this monologue about how dangerous the world is, and how they wouldn’t be able to forgive themselves if something happened to you.

You had no privacy, they always had a guy watching you from a distance if you went out with family, and tracked your location. Your only friends were whoever else was in their group, which wasn’t much whatsoever, so you were practically without anything.

When you all graduated, and you were planning to attend Columbia, you hoped some leniency would be kicked in from their part, but no — the two only got more dominant about everything, to the point they refused to let you share a dorm room with a girl.

“Oh my fucking god, I’m not going to fuck her!” You yelled. “You’re being dramatic; it is better for me to live on campus so I don’t deal with traffic every morning.”

“What if she tries something?” Ellie asked, sitting down on her couch with a glass of bourbon in her hand. “You know we are just trying to look out for you.”

“No, you’re being insane,” you stated, and she scoffed, eyeing Abby. “Both of you have really got to stop this shit. I need to make a career for myself, be my own person without your crazy bullshit jeopardizing it all.”

Abby got up, now towering over you as she grinned. “Such a brat you are,” she mocked, and you shivered, glaring at her. “After all this time, we hoped you would start being appreciative.”

“I… I’m more than grateful for the both of you,” you assured softly, frowning. “But please, I'd rather be in a dorm room than some penthouse where you’re being insufferable.”

“The fuck did you just say?” Ellie asked, hastily standing up, and before you could speak, she grabbed your jaw. “Insufferable, huh?”

You whimpered, the grasp tightening, and worried she might crack a bone. “No… no,” you whispered, and the pair mockingly cooed at your panic.

Ellie shoved you into Abby’s arms. “Deal with her, I’m in a good mood today.”

Abby held onto your wrist, seating herself down, and bent you over her lap. “Gotta keep training you, ‘specially after all this time,” she mumbled, flipping up your skirt. “Starting to think we should just replace your ball with some soap, maybe raise up the punishments.”

“No, no,” you pleaded, peeking up at her. “I didn’t mean to say—”

“Don’t fuckin’ stare at me,” Abby spat, and you whined, looking away as you could feel her hands massage your ass. “You’re lucky it’s me being lenient, not her.”

Abby wasn’t wrong there — Ellie was more harsh with her punishment, would leave you in a puddle of tears, and it would be Abby that had to reel her back into reality. You recalled the moment when Ellie had you bent over the edge of the kitchen table, hitting your ass while she kept her thick rings on, and you were in tears by the end.

You didn’t talk to her for at least two weeks, but she repeatedly apologized, and was no longer able to strike you with no more than seven slaps, and if she did, Abby had to put her in check.

You never knew why you liked being punished like this, like a ragdoll of some sort, or why you let consequences happen to you. You were human, but something about these two keeping you in check was pleasuring, and comforting in a way.

The first hit made you squeal, kicking your feet in reaction. “Fuck!”

“Count, bunny,” she said, the nickname made your stomach turn. “I know you can do it.”

“One…” you shuddered, another strike coming after it. “Fuck— two!”

“Only doing five today, it’s okay,” she assured, kissing the back of your neck, and your ass was met with the third strike.

“Three!”

Another one.

“Four!”

And the last one.

“Five,” you moaned, your ass burning. “I fucking hated that.”

“Me too, bun,” Abby said, picking you up, and let you sit on her lap. “Let me look at my girl.”

She took your face into her hands, fingers brushing past your ears, and grinned. “There’s my bunny, are you okay?” She wondered sincerely, a frown tugged on her lips.

“‘M fine,” you muttered, resting your head on her shoulder as she held you. “Is Ellie mad at me?”

“You know how she is,” she reminded, and you huffed, nodding. “We love you, more than you’ll ever know. We wouldn’t be able to live if someone hurt you, or something horrible happened.”

“I know, didn’t mean to be rude,” you mumbled, and she sighed, kissing the side of your head. “I just feel like both your lives should be more than just me.”

“Oh, baby,” she sighed, bringing your head back up, and gazed at you with immense endearment, you could faint from it. “You are our life. Our religion, our air, everything we want and need.”

You grinned. “You mean that?”

“Of course. Now, let’s go see Ellie, yeah?” Abby suggested, and you agreed, trailing in front of her as you walked to Ellie's bedroom in her penthouse.

“Ellie,” you sang out, pouting. “Are you still mad?” You opened the bedroom door, finding her sitting on her desk chair with an electric guitar in her hands.

Ellie looked up at you the second you were in her presence, and she sighed, sitting the instrument aside of her. “Hey, little one,” she greeted, opening her arms for you. You rushed to her, perching yourself on her lap, and wrapped your arms around her neck.

“Sorry for being rude,” you mumbled into the crook of her neck. “I love you and Abby both.”

“Sweetheart, I know,” she rested her hand on the back of your head, her thumb caressing it. “We know what’s best for you, that’s why we take care of you unlike anyone else.”

Ellie wasn’t wrong there, and that saddened you. Your parents had always be mentally and emotionally distant; they were there physically, but always focused on their own issues. It was either your mother was caught up in her pill addiction, or your father having a new mistress.

There never really was time for you — you raised yourself for as long as you could remember.

Many would say you had no reason to hate your life when you have this trust fund, nepotism lifestyle, but you would trade all of that just for parental affection and care. Yet, that never came, and the only people who tended to your needs were Ellie and Abby.

They came into your life when you needed them the most.

“Our parents want a gathering tonight,” Abby walked into the room, clearly irritated. “First stop is church.”

“Church?” Ellie laughed. “Oh baby, it’s your parents that want that.”

You never understood why your parents went to church. They may have grown up religious, but the things you witnessed them doing led them to earning a one way ticket to Hell.

“We could have our fun,” Abby assured, grinning. “Isn’t being selfish and ungrateful a sin?”

Ellie picked your head up off her shoulder, forcing you to look at her. “Yeah… it is,” she smirked at your protesting whines, and patted your bottom. “Get home, and get changed.”

You walked inside the cathedral by your parents side, searching around for your girls. “Ah, there’s Jerry!” Your father pointed out, taking you and your mother to Abby’s dad. “Jerry!”

Jerry turned around, grinning at him, both hugging one another. You hopped to Abby’s side, smiling up at her. “Hi,” you whispered.

“Hey, baby,” she mumbled, gently pinching your arm. “Ellie is in the confessional booth.”

“What?” You asked. “Why?”

“You sinned,” Abby reminded, and you swallowed thickly as she leaned into your ear. “And you need to repent.”

Your parents were caught in conversation with Jerry, and you sighed heavily, rolling your eyes. You knew they wouldn’t pay much mind if you were gone for a bit.

“Don’t fuckin’ roll your eyes,” she spat, tightly seizing your wrists, and tugged you away with her. To your unfortunate luck, the confessional booth had its own room in the cathedral, and gradually spacious, giving you more than enough privacy.

“Let the fuck go of my wrist!” You shouted, and she halted her footsteps, turning around. “I can follow, ya’know? I’m not dumb.”

Abby ignored you, suddenly tossing you over her shoulder as you screeched, furiously kicking your feet. “Ellie’s going to love hearing this,” she taunted, and you zipped your mouth, giving up all protest.

Abby twisted open up the door to the room, putting you down on your feet, and slammed the door shut.

Ellie was leaning against the wall, joint in her mouth, and was wearing a black suit, a bralette underneath her fine blazer. “There’s our girl,” she beamed, yet her bright expression toned down when she took notice of Abby's unsatisfied attitude. “What did she do?”

“Rolled her eyes, being a brat,” Abby said, and you looked down in shame, not knowing why you kept digging a hole for yourself. “Don’t know why she keeps doing this. Maybe we’ve been too nice.”

Ellie hummed, burning her joint out on the windowsill before leading herself into the stall, her legs spreading as she sat down. “We’ll take our turns. Kneel before God.”

You only stood still, gazing up at her.

Abby’s hand curled around the back of your neck, getting a whine out of you. “The fuck is your problem today? Want to be ignored instead?” She wondered, and you shook your head. “It sure seems like that, bunny.”

“Bring her over here,” Ellie beckoned, and Abby guided you over to the auburn-haired girl, forcing you down to your knees. “Wearin’ such a pretty dress today. All for us, hm?”

You looked at her, hands resting on your thighs as you nodded. “Course I did. Wanted to be pretty for you both.”

“Hmm. Roll up your dress,” Ellie said, and you froze, not moving. She inched closer to your face, tilting her head. “Something wrong, honey?”

“No, ‘course not,” you muttered, fingers fiddling with the ending hem of your babydoll dress.

“Then listen,” Abby added in, and your breath shuddered as you bunched the skirt to your waist, exposing your bare cunt. “Won’t you look at that? She thought she was gonna get something.”

“Did you think that?” Ellie asked, and you hesitantly nodded, her cruel laugh ringing in your ears. “After how you’ve been acting all day? Silly girl.”

“Where’s your rosary?” Abby wondered, and you opened up your purse, scrunching it up in your palm. “Not even a pure girl anymore, just a depraved whore for us.”

Ellie grabbed the jewelry piece, wrapping it in between her fingers as the end dangled in your face. “Abby, next to me,” she ordered, and Abby took off her leather jacket, letting it drop to the floor, stepping in the stall.

You stayed kneeled, trying to put water to the fire you sparked.

The tip of Ellie’s combat boot hit under your chin, raising your eyes to hers. “Get over to her,” she cocked her head to the side, and you rushed up and over to the blonde haired woman, who grinned at you.

Abby pushed you down onto her lap, your back pressing up against her chest as Ellie pushed open the sliding barrier, mindlessly playing with your rosary. “Why are you here today?” She began, yet Abby shoved your legs open, one hand on your throat, and the other snaked down in between your thighs.

“F—Forgive me,” you stuttered, shivering to Abby's fingers glazing over your needy cunt, “for I have sinned.”

“Go on,” Ellie agreed, and Abby slowly pushed one finger into you. “What troubles you?”

Your head fell back onto Abby’s shoulder, squeezing harder on your throat as a warning. “Fuck… I—I’ve been selfish, sir,” you continued, whining to her teasing pace. “Cruel and ruthless to those who love me.”

“And why is that?” Ellie wondered, paying no mind to you or your noises. “Do they deserve it, little lamb?”

Abby put in a second finger, the pace now running a bit higher, but made sure to not give you entire satisfaction. “Do they deserve it, bunny?” She whispered in your ear, her thumb pressing on your bud. “Tell her now.”

“No, God no,” you whimpered, placing a hand over Abby’s wrist. “I’m just… just a brat— holy fuck, fuck me.”

“Using vulgar language in front of your God, little lamb?” Ellie teased, knowing what she was getting at.

She was your God — both of them were. They were your religion, devoting every piece of you to them, would do anything to have their forgiveness and love for eternity.

“I’m sorry, God,” you moaned, Abby’s fingers pounding into you as you were beginning to fall apart at the seams, grabbing onto her wrist. “Fuck— Forgive me, God. I need your forgiveness.”

“You have to earn it,” Ellie stated, and Abby breathily chuckled, her breath fanning against your skin.

“Want to be good for your Gods?” Abby asked, and you nodded, your face falling into the crook of her neck. “Gonna do anything just for us to fuck you, huh? ‘Course you are, baby. You’re filthy— look what we’ve done to you.”

A warm sensation ran in your stomach, down to your thighs as your body jolted on her lap. “Please, God,” you pleaded, tears at your waterline. “I want you, God. I’ll never sin again.”

Ellie hummed, looking at Abby. “What do you think?” She asked. “Does the whore deserve to be forgiven?”

“Might have to work a little harder,” Abby said, and you were lost in your head, your climax burning in your abdomen. “She’s going to break another commandment.”

“No, no,” you breathed, shaking your head. “I won’t do it unless God tells me to.”

“Is that right?” Abby cooed, and her free hand combed through your hair, grabbing it. Her fingers slipped out of you, tossing you down onto your knees again with a harsh thud, a soft weep eliciting from you.

Ellie stepped out of her side of the booth, moving to yours, and you heard the rustling of her and Abby’s pants, keeping your head down. A nude Ellie brushed past you, sitting down onto Abby’s lap, both of their seeping cunts shown to your eyes.

“Please us, little lamb,” Ellie said, and you slightly moved yourself closer, your mouth latching on Abby’s cunt, hearing a soft moan leave her. You slid two fingers into Ellie’s, who cursed under her breath, and the pair looked down at you as you stared right back at them, desperation shining in your eyes.

“Doing s’good, baby,” Abby gently praised, her breath jagged, and looped around Ellie’s waist to keep her in place. “Keep fuckin’ going like that.”

Your mouth switched between the two, lapping up their juices as they made out with one another, sweetly moaning into each other’s mouth. All you could do was admire them, kneeling obediently while you drowned your mouth in their juices, needing more than just this.

Ellie put her hand on top of your head, the end of your rosary dangling in between your eyes, and she rutted her cunt against your mouth, keeping it latched. You stuffed Abby with three fingers, enough to fulfill her, roughly thrusting them into her.

The rosary continued to stay in your vision, almost like a mocking coming from Ellie and God; that once a pure angel fell into the hands of the corrupted, and became just what and who they are.

But you loved it, you loved that they curated you into this way. All you wanted to do was please them, see how sensitive they could turn out to be.

You spent the remainder of mass baptizing yourself in between their thighs, drunk on the taste of their sweet pussies.

You had spent the next day at home, making sure you had things planned out for when you moved out for Columbia. Abby and Ellie had convinced you to live in a penthouse that was about a block away from the school, and you had agreed on the fact that it was better to be with people you knew than a stranger as they knew it made you easily uncomfortable.

Your parents had left randomly for vacation, staying at their place in Milan, leaving you alone with your cat. You didn’t mind the loneliness, it was something you well adjusted to as you got older, and you only ached for attention when it came to your girls, but they had their responsibilities that you couldn’t interfere with.

You had finished packing up your box of books, setting it in the corner of your bedroom. Your attention turned to the sound of your phone going off, the soft ringtone coming through. You grabbed your phone, grinning at the contact name of “Jesse.”

“Well if it isn’t my favorite troublemaker,” you teased. “What’s up?”

Jesse James and his girlfriend, Dina Woodward, were the only people Ellie and Abby trusted you with; which said plenty because they would kill anyone who they didn’t know, and tried to talk to you. He was good, despite the fact he came from a shit father, constantly got in trouble with the law, and blew money on anything. Dina was the only one who could put him in check, and you had grown close to her over the time of knowing him.

“I fuckin’ bought a club,” Jesse started off, and you scoffed in disbelief. “Turned that shit into a burlesque. She’s a beau, you have to come out and check it out.”

“Well, I can’t right now,” you denied, and he groaned. “I’m trying to make sure I have everything together before I leave for college.”

“Cry me a river, come on!” He begged, and you breathily laughed. “You are always so attached to Ellie and Abs, make time for me.”

“Is your girlfriend with you, at least?” You wondered, and he hummed in response. You looked at the time on your clock, reading “9:03PM”, and you sighed. “I’ll be there in an hour. Don’t go anywhere.”

True to your word, you arrived at Jesse’s enriching club. You got out of the black cab, and stared at the sign that gleamed in pink neon “Carissima.”

You hummed softly to yourself, approaching the security guard at the front. “Friend of Jesse James,” you said, and he nodded, easily recognizing you. He opened up the door for you, thanking him, and moved inside, hearing the familiar melody of “I Put A Spell On You” by Nina Simone tune through the venue.

It didn’t take much to find Jesse, his arm wrapped around Dina’s shoulder as the two sat on a lounge chair in front of performers, their soft laughter knitting between the music. You walked up to the side of the furniture, their eyes averting to you.

“You made it!” Dina exclaimed, jumping up, and pulling you into a hug. “I’ve missed you. Feels like forever.”

“I know, I’m sorry,” you said, separating the hug, and gave a hast squeeze to Jesse before sitting on the side of Dina. “So, what made you buy this?”

“Good investment,” Jesse said, and you awed, chuckling. “My dad doesn’t agree, but it’s beautiful. These performers… mind blowing, a fascination to everyone in this room.”

“You tell Ellie and Abby?” You wondered as Dina handed you a cigarette, lighting it up for you. “They would love this, think you are a genius.”

“I thought you would bring them. Ya’know, since you’re attached to them,” he teased, and Dina smacked his arm, glaring at him. “Bad joke, fuck! But where are they?”

“Don’t know, I haven’t talked to them all day,” you answered, puffing out a blow. “But they got their shit to worry about, don’t like being in the way.”

“You’ve been their world since you met them,” Dina said, taking the stick from you. “However, it is scary how overprotective they are.”

“What do you mean?” You asked.

Jesse laughed. “Those two have always been frightening—”

“Yeah, but their care for her is… different,” she stated, and gazed back at you. “Known them since we were kids, and I can say they would kill for you.”

“So dramatic,” you joked. “They’re the closest people I have in life. They take care of me, know what’s good for me and I don’t know— I’ve never really had that.”

“Yeah, I guess,” she mumbled, handing you back the cigarette. “I just know they’re fucking you good.”

“Okay, I’m gonna go get a drink!” You beamed, inhaling the tobacco, and got up. “You need anything?”

They shook their heads, and you hurried to the bar, continuing to burn out the cancerous stick in a spare ashtray. You smiled at the bartender as she headed over to you.

“What can I get you, love?” She asked.

“Just a cosmo, please,” you said, and she hummed, turning to the drinks. You waited patiently, fingers tapping on the gradient countertop in thought.

A shoulder softly brushed past you, but you ignored the person, until they cleared their throat. “All alone here?”

You shivered to the voice of a man.

“With some friends,” you dryly answered, eyes focused on the bartender who had her back turned from you.

“That’s a shame. Woulda invite you to hang with me,” he said, his voice thick and heavy. “You always still can.”

“No thank you,” you denied, shaking your head, and prayed for your drink to come quicker, only for the bartender to head into the stock room for a moment.

Oh, you felt sick.

From the corner of your eye, you could see Dina and Jesse lost in their conversation, completely oblivious to you.

Your phone was in your purse, and you were scared to even fiddle with it.

“I don’t bite, honey,” he assured, and your heart leaped into your throat as his hand touched your bicep. “Come on. A pretty thing like you should be having fun.”

“Please let go of me,” you said, yet harsh enough to come off stern. “I don’t like your hand on me, so get the fuck off.”

“Now don’t be a bitch,” he spat.

You finally looked at him, your body wanting to collapse on you. He was taller than you, about six foot three or so. Broad and muscular, completely fit. His eyes were dark, had a goatee on his face.

You thought about throwing up all over him just to get this over with.

You hoped people sitting around would notice, yet no one did, caught up in their own worlds. You yanked your arm back, and scoffed. “You don’t got the right to touch me, you fuck.”

“I’ll fuckin’ kill you,” he threatened. “You come here in that little black dress, and expect nobody to fuck you?”

The bartender came back, and was the only one to notice this unsettling tension. “Hey, honey!” She called out, putting your order on the countertop. “Had to head into the back to grab more cranberry juice, I’m sorry.”

She kept her eyes locked on the man, a pair of scissors in her hand. “Can you hold onto my order for a second? I need to use the ladies room,” you said, and she nodded, making sure to keep the man secure in her radius.

You hurried into the bathroom, your shaky hands taking out your phone. Teardrops collected on the screen as you hit Abby’s contact, the first name on your recent call list.

It took only two rings until she answered. “Bunny?”

“Abby… abby,” you breathily whispered, sniffling. “Is Ellie with you?”

“Yeah, baby. We just got done with some things,” she said, and you sighed in relief. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m… I’m at this club, Jesse’s club,” you began, sucking in a sharp breath. “And went to the bar to get a drink… this man came up to me, wouldn’t leave me alone.”

“What?” Abby’s tone sharpened. “Did he hurt you? Where the fuck is Jesse? Or Dina?”

“He just grabbed my arm. Jesse and Dina were just busy with each other, I was too far away for them to notice anything,” you stated clearly, wiping away your hot tears. “I don’t know if he’s still in here, but the bartender is keeping a close eye on him, and I’m hiding in the bathroom.”

“Stay in the bathroom, we’re coming right now,” she assured, and you hung up the call, sitting yourself on the porcelain seat, trying to compile all your thoughts and emotions.

As Abby brought the phone down to her lap, Ellie glanced at her. “What happened?”

“Someone fuckin’ weirdo touched her,” Abby exsperated, and static rang in Ellie’s ears, scoffing in disbelief. “Jesse opened up his own club, she was there, and went alone to get a drink.”

Ellie texted Jesse for the address, and Abby searched around the backseat compartment. “I don’t know if the gun is still in here,” Ellie said, and the blonde groaned in frustration. “We can’t go in there with one.”

“The one time you don’t bring your weapon,” Abby sighed.

“Got the address,” Ellie mumbled, opening up her phone. “Charles! Hit 7th avenue.”

“The fuck are we gonna do with this dude?” Abby asked, and Ellie grinned. “Talk to me, baby.”

“We fuckin’ kill him,” Ellie stated.

You passed time by playing games on your phone, the stress of it being enough to forget the short horror experience you just encountered. The shout of your name in the bathroom caught your attention, killing your high score in the process.

“Baby, where are you?” Ellie called out, and you rushed out of the stall, getting her attention. “Oh, there’s my girl.”

She hastily brought you into her arms, letting you cry into her shoulder as she held you, cupping the back of your head. “My brave girl, hm? So proud of you,” she praised, kissing your temple. “Abby and I are gonna take care of everything.”

You nodded, bringing your head back, and she smiled softly at you. “Do you have any party favors?” You wondered, and she sighed, shaking her head. “Please, just wanna wash off tonight.”

“Honey, you are not taking coke,” she said, and you frowned. “I know you are upset, but your body isn’t used to it, and you wouldn’t like it.”

“Yes I do! Remember when I did it off your ass on our ski trip in Aspen?” You recalled, and she kept denying you. “Please! Just this once. I’ll have Dina make sure I don’t do more than three lines.”

“Dina couldn’t even keep an eye on you right now!” She shouted, and you flinched, body tensing. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I just— You need to be careful.”

“Just three lines,” you repeated.

Ellie reached into her trouser’s pockets, fiddling with the bag, and handed it to you. “Go have fun, baby,” she said, and you kissed her cheek, thanking her before sprinting back out to Jesse and Dina.

The couple bounced up from their seats at your appearance, clear worry plastered on their faces. “Fuck, we’re so sorry,” Dina said, gently grabbing your wrists. “We were so caught up—“

“It’s fine,” you smiled, sitting down on the lounge seat, and popped open the bag of cocaine.

“Fuck, you’re doing lines? Haven’t seen you do that shit since the Debutante Ball,” she said, and you poured some of the white powder onto the table in front of you.

“Ellie and Abby don’t know about that,” you told her, and her eyes widened, looking at her boyfriend who only shrugged at her. “They would kill me if they knew the amount of drugs I’ve done behind their back.”

“You’ve only done cocaine, no?” Jesse questioned, and you only glanced at him over your shoulder, giggling. You took a random card out of your wallet, dividing the powder into neat lines, a dumb smile on your face.

“Jesse, can you go get my cosmo, please?” You asked, sweetness laced in your tone. “I deserve some of that with this shit.” He sighed, nodding, and getting up from his spot.

There were seven lines made, and you wiped off the collected powder from the edge of the card, sniffing it up your left nostril. You exhaled sharply, snickering, and traded the card in for a dollar bill. “You want some of this?” You offered, turning around to look at Dina, and she denied the offer, eyes focused on you.

You hummed, tightly rolling up the bill. “More for me, then.” You brought the paper up to your nose, aligning it with the first line, and took a heavy inhale, a strong burn hitting your nose. You sniffled, bringing your head up and leaned it back, shakily laughing.

“Easy there, babe,” Dina put a hand on your back, rubbing it. Jesse came back on time with your drink, handing it to you, and noticed the dollar bill next to the second line.

“Already started?” He teased, and you took a sip of the cocktail, eyeing to the drug. “I’m all good, treat yourself with that stuff.”

With you doing lines and being utterly distracted inside of the club, Abby and Ellie were on the top floor of the building, inside a storage room with a beaten man on the ground.

Abby took another kick to his gut, Ellie sitting in a chair with a cigarette in her mouth. “You like touchin’ females you don’t know!” Abby yelled, and he sobbed, restrained by cable ties, his right eyes kicked in. “Fuckin’ touching her like that, you aren’t getting away with this shit.”

Ellie took the gun out from the back of her trousers, lucky enough to find the weapon in the glove compartment by the driver. She flashed the object to the man’s eyes, a vile grin playing on her lips as she stared at him.

She got up, and stalked towards his limp body, standing by Abby’s side. “What’s your name, man?” Ellie asked, with her partner taking a hast note to her facade. “Got any kids or anything?”

“My name is Brandon,” he breathed, and Ellie nodded, squatting down to match eye level with him, letting the gun dangle in her hands. “Shit, dude, listen— I—I’m sorry. I didn’t think she was taken.”

“What makes you say that?” Abby questioned.

“A girl like that… wants attention,” he said, and the girls looked at one another before glancing back over to Brandon. “Can even tell she’s got lingerie under that shit. She’s a fuckin’ tease, a whore.”

Ellie hummed, reloading the glock in her hand, and chuckled. “I think I’m done with my cigarette now,” she mumbled, jokingly frowning as she played with the stick in between her fingers. “Too bad I don’t have an ashtray on me.”

Abby took out a switchblade, exchanging it for the gun. “Tell me when you need me to do it,” she said, and the auburn haired girl seized the man’s jaw, squeezing open his mouth as a wave of protests elicited from his throat.

Ellie pushed the bud to his tongue, and cruelly laughed at the garging scream that came out of him. “Keep fuckin’ talking shit!” She shouted, flicking open her switchblade, and held it to his throat. “Swallow that cigarette, wanna see if you still want to run your mouth!”

“You don’t get to talk about her like that,” Abby chimed in, taking off her leather jacket. “You’re lucky we don’t kill you right now.”

Ellie put her hand over the man’s mouth, refusing to let him spit out her cigarette, only giving him the option to swallow it for good. She smiled, pleased with the simple act, and took her hand back. “Got anymore shit to say?” She questioned, tilting her head to the side.

Brandon sniffled, jagged sobs intertwined with his heavy breathing. “You’re both fucking insane,” he began, trying to gather oxygen into him. “She’s going to leave you. You’re going to drive her away with this shit.”

“We’d like to see her try,” Abby said, and Ellie stood up, putting herself aside to let her do as she pleased. She sat back down, opening up her phone to text Jesse.

E: How is she?

J: Two Cosmos in. Had seven lines. Get down here soon.

E: Don’t let her strip her clothes off. We don’t need a sequel to Barcelona.

J: Me and Dina can’t handle her, only you can. She won’t shut the fuck up about you.

E: Don’t let us down again. P.S., may need a mop in here soon.

She tucked her phone away, and admired Abby damaging the man. She was ruthless, yet composing herself enough not to kill him — just yet. His face had molded into a pulp, unrecognizable to anyone as his blood painted on Abby’s hands, his weak pleas being ignored by the pair.

Abby and Ellie got high off of this, hurting or killing anyone who made you uncomfortable. They had been getting away with it for so long, and you had been gullible to it, never blinking an eye to their unknown actions.

They would do this over and over again, even if something was your fault within it, they dealt with you in their own way — but no one was ever to lay a hand on you, and you knew that too.

Abby snagged his wallet out of his pocket, opening it up. “Brandon James,” she announced, pulling out his cash, and putting it in her pockets. “Gonna use this to buy her something pretty and nice.”

“Where does he live?” Ellie asked.

“Won’t you look at that!” Abby said, pressing her boot to his face. “He’s a rich brat. Lives in that building next to yours, Els.”

Ellie chuckled. “Money probably got him out of his shit. Isn’t that right, Brandon James?”

“Please,” is all he could manage to say, dizzy and lightheaded.

Ellie returned over to him, and stood over him before lowering herself. “This may hurt,” she said, signaling for Abby’s help, who obliged by opening the man’s mouth. Ellie grinned, tugging at the tip of his tongue, and began to sever it with her switchblade.

He screamed, thrashing around, but was overpowered by the two women, entirely useless to their strength. “This isn’t even the worst part,” Ellie muttered, grunting as she went on to cut off his tongue. “You made her cry, ya’know? Poor baby was so scared, and didn't know what to do.”

His tongue ripped out, being put to the side of his head. She got up, staring at the blood of her hand, and could only curl her hand into a tight fist.

He fuckin’ frightened her, she thought to herself. He deserves to die.

He was already facing death in a horrid, slow manner, and the last thing he would see was these two, towering over him; utterly indulged by his death, and letting it fuel their ego.

“Kill him. Jesse wants us back,” Ellie ordered, and Abby aimed the gun at his face, her finger carelessly pressing down on the trigger. His face blew, and they both hummed, taking in the view. “Good job. Already called the crew to come get him.”

Stuck yet hast of cleaning themselves up, alcohol and drugs overrode your brain, consuming you. You were sitting on the edge of the couch, staring at the dancers on the stage who moved with elegance, and passion. Each one of them were beautiful, confident in their own way that made your heart beat.

“Wish I was as good as them,” you said, sipping on Jesse’s cup of scotch. “I can fuckin’ dance, but not like that.”

“They’re giving a simple show,” Dina noted, and you blew a raspberry, glaring at her.

“They’re doing much more than that,” you retorted, and inhaled one last bump, coughing. “I… I want to go up there.”

“You’re not,” Jesse denied, and you pouted. “Ellie and Abby would murder you, and then me. We don’t want Barcelona to happen.”

“Oh my gosh! That trip was so fun!” You recalled, warmly smiling at the memory. “Wait, what happened?”

“You drank too much, got lost in the crowd dancing with too many people,” Dina said, and you zoned out, attempting to have any recollection. “Then, you bought everyone shots, danced on top of the bar, and flashed your ass to them.”

“Okay, that’s not bad,” you giggled, shrugging. “I’m going up there!”

“Do you have a death wish?” Dina wondered, and grabbed your wrist, preventing you from standing up. “Your girlfriends are going to kill you if you do some sort of strip tease up there.”

“They’ll get over it,” you said, freeing your wrist from her hold. “They’re not here, anyways, and they won’t do shit about it.”

Jesse and Dina sighed, giving up all attempts and let you run off onto the stage. The burlesque dancers beamed at your presence, letting you stand in the middle as you were too mind numbed to understand what you were doing, just knowing you wanted to have fun.

The song and crowd were an echo, intoxication burning into your body, controlling each thing you did. You sheepishly grinned, your hand reaching to the side of your dress, and pulled down the zipper.

“No, no!” Dina shouted, and Jesse mumbled multiple curse words, sipping down the last of his drink. “Oh, we are so dead.”

Abby and Ellie appeared right next to them, at the exact time you were shimming off your dress, and were exposed in your garter belt, stockings, and undergarments. “What the fuck did we say!” Abby shouted, and the couple sighed, watching in horror with the two girls while you were oblivious to them.

People in the club cheered for you, a few getting their wallets out. You laughed, your vision a blur as you showed off your body, letting your hands run all over your body.

Your girlfriends watched attentively, millions of thoughts piling on top of each other, thinking of how to get off the stage, and back home. They weren’t going to punish you while you were clearly out of your mind, but that gave them enough time to think of how to handle you.

They just fucking murdered someone for you, and your flashing your body to strangers. You were more than ungrateful at this moment.

The dancers on stage encouraged you to do what you wanted, cheering you though they knew you were not intact with reality. “Should I take off my bra?” You questioned, and the people in front yelled in agreement, earning a small laugh out of you. “Yeah? Flash my tits for New York?”

“What the fuck is she saying?” Jesse asked. “Go get your girl before she turns this into a riot house.”

Abby and Ellie both rushed to you, having to fight through a crowd just to reach the steps to the stage. Your hands fidgeted with the hooks of your bra, and before you could strip it off, they got to you on time. “Oh, it’s my girls!” You slurred, hiccuping as you laughed, and blushed in shame. “How long have you been here?”

Ellie took off her blazer, tossing it over you as Abby picked up your dress from the ground. The crowd booed and groaned at your escort as you only waved at them, blowing a kiss. “Bye Dina and Jess! Love you both so much!” You yelled, and squealed from being abruptly thrown over Abby’s shoulder. “Ow, my stomach!”

The limo was parked outside, and the chauffeur opened up the door, Abby throwing you onto the seat but made sure you didn’t bump your head. Ellie climbed in right behind her, the door shutting.

“Hiii,” you slurred, continuing to giggle. “You like my outfit?”

“Who gave you coke?” Abby asked.

“Els!” You said.

“Ellie, we talked about this!” Abby protested, and the auburn shrugged. “She can’t do that shit unattended.”

“I’ve done it so many times without you both,” you confessed, and their eyes snapped at you. “You made me this way — fucking corrupted, and shit. I am your blessing and nightmare.”

“You’re drunk,” Ellie sighed. “You need to rest when we get home.”

“Why, daddy?” You asked, and Ellie reddened at the nickname. “I know you both want to hurt me. I was bad tonight, disrespecting you both. How silly of me.”

“Fuckin’ watch it, bunny,” Abby spat, and you laughed. “I mean it.”

“Whatever. You’re idiots,” you mumbled, and Ellie had thinner patience than Abby did — meaning one more insult would cause her to take you in the car. She tossed your dress at you, eyes boring into you. “You could just hand it next time.”

“You are one more backtalk from getting it,” Ellie warned, and your smile slowly faded. “Anything else you need to confess before we deal with you in the dawn?”

“Oh, I can’t have a life of my own!” You realized, carelessly putting back on your outfit.. “Can’t take drugs without your eyes following me. Can’t even hang out with someone without a bodyguard being there! So fucking annoying!”

“If it’s so annoying, why stay?” Abby asked.

You went silent, looking away from the both of them, and finished throwing on your dress, slouching in your seat. “Only ones who take care of me,” you murmured, so soft and quiet, pouting too. “Make me feel special.”

“Yeah, and we’re the only ones who will put up with you this way,” Ellie added, and you nodded, tears welting in your eyes. “Who else is gonna do that? Tell us.”

You shook your head. “No one… no one,” you mumbled, chewing on your lower lip. “Can… Can I sit on your lap? Please?”

Ellie heavily sighed before giving in, beckoning you. You practically hopped into her lap as you wrapped your arms around her neck, nuzzling your face into her chest.

You fell asleep on the ride back to the shared penthouse.

Sunlight crept into your eyes, taking you out of your gentle slumber. You groaned, stuffing your face into the pillow, and felt warmth on both sides of you. Your eyes slowly parted, finding Ellie’s tattooed arm dangling over your chest, Abby’s looped around your waist.

You were trapped in between them, no way out. Your head pounded, your nose stuffy, and dying in sickness. You stayed still, trying to resurface last night's events, yet only blur spots flickered in your head. You whimpered, loud to drag Abby out of her slumber, her eyes adjusting to the sight of you.

“Hey, bunny,” she whispered. “You okay?”

“Did I drink last night?” You asked, and she weakly chuckled, nodding.

“And you did cocaine,” she muttered, and she brought her hand up, resting it on the side of your face. “You are in trouble.”

You panicked. “Whatever I did—”

“Baby, you are okay,” she assured, thumb caressing your cheek. “But you said some rude things. All we plan to do is spanking, that’s about it.”

“I’m sorry,” you frowned, and she kissed the side of your head. “Hope that’s the only stupid thing I did.”

“And you stripped and performed at a burlesque club,” she shared, and your eyes widened, whining in embarrassment. “Ellie nearly ripped your head off in the car.”

You looked over at Ellie, and grinned. “I’ll make it up to you both,” you promised, pressing a kiss to her lips, and she smiled, nodding. “I’m going to clean myself up, I feel a bit nauseous.”

“We had your things moved and unpacked yesterday,” Abby said, and you sat up, stretching out your arms.

“You broke into my house late at night, and got everything settled that quick?” You laughed. “I’m still a month away from attending school, and you’re already locking me down.”

“Better to get it done now,” she acknowledged, and you got up from the bed, padding over to the bedroom’s bathroom, closing the door behind you.

It took you only about thirty minutes to clean up, unimpressed by how worn out you looked. Your lipstick smeared, eyeliner and mascara cluttered around your eyes, your breath reeking of alcohol.

The shower was enough to relax your body, yet still felt sick, considering you needed a meal. You stepped out of the shower, wrapping a towel around your body, and stepped in front of the sink.

You found an unopened toothbrush waiting for you, and you grinned, opening it up. You turned on the faucet, and laid down a portion of toothpaste on your toothbrush, running it under the water shortly after.

You brought the object into your mouth, and used your free arm to pick up your pajamas. You walked over to the walk in closet, and looked around for the hamper, only to find it shoved into the corner.

Peeking over the basket, you noticed a white shirt stained with some red on it. It grabbed your attention, looking too crimson to be considered red wine, or anything else.

You just shrugged it off, putting your clothes over it, and went back to brushing your teeth. “Hey Abs,” you called from the bathroom. “What kind of shit did you get into last night?”

“What do you mean?” She shouted back, the loud conversation awakening Ellie.

“One of your shirts is stained,” you said, and Abby inhaled sharply, Ellie shooting up to look at her girlfriend. “Did I fall and eat shit, and get blood over one of you?”

“Honey, you did,” Ellie lied, voice groggy and hoarse. “I had to carry you inside, you had blood coming out your nose.”

“But I have no bruises or anything?” You realized, spitting out the paste, and cleaned up your toothbrush and mouth. You changed into shorts and tee before walking back into the bedroom. “Did you guys get into a fight last night?”

They went silent, and you got into the middle of them on the bed, going back and forth looking at them.

“You had an incident last night,” Ellie said, and your brows furrowed. “A man was being a fuckin’ dick, you called Abby, and we handled it.”

“Oh what, you fucking killed him?” You joked, and they laughed dryly with you, but enough to make it believable. “If you beat him, you just have to say that.”

“We handled it,” Ellie repeated, and moved herself closer to you, putting her hand on your cheek. “Now we need to handle you.”

You rolled your eyes, bitterly scoffing.

“Fuckin’ roll them again,” she dared, and Abby laid back against the headboard, letting everything unravel. “Always going to be a brat? Even when we’re so good to you?”

Your face softened into a doe expression, tilting your head to the side. “Doesn’t that make you want to fuck me?”

“We won’t even touch you if that’s what you're trying to accomplish here,” she taunted, and her hand snaked up to the side of your head, tightly gripping your hair. “When are you going to learn, little lamb? Is what we do for you not enough?”

“It is,” you whimpered.

“Yeah? Then why do you keep acting like it isn’t?” She asked, and eyed over to Abby. “What should we do with her?”

“Break her,” Abby said, getting up from her spot. Ellie grinned, turning her head back towards you, and your cheek was met with a harsh slap. You gasped, and her hand slid down to the back of your neck, pushing your body onto the bed.

“Fuckin’ strip,” Ellie spat, and you whimpered, but obliged. You fiddled with the ending hem of your shirt, taking it off, and your fingers hooked around the waistband of your panties and pajama shorts. “Need you on all fours.”

You huffed under your breath, glad that she couldn’t see you roll your eyes again. Your clothes piled down onto the ground, letting your knees sink into the mattress, your chest laying flat as your ass was lifted to her eyes for display.

“Baby, you’re fucking soaking,” Ellie cooed with Abby returning on time, able to hear the clicking of objects. “Let’s hold off on gagging her until she wants to say some shit.”

Abby moved to your eye level, grinning. “You want to keep being a desperate whore?”

“I’ll get my satisfaction either way,” you assured, and she inhaled sharply, eyes snapping into Ellie’s. The auburn handed her an item, noticing the pink ball. “Wait, wait!”

“Shut the fuck up,” Abby seethed, maneuvering your face and brought it up, fastening up the ball gag. “You’ve really fuckin’ done it this time, bunny. And Ellie is going to handle you, not me.”

You swallowed thickly, your doe eyes shining with pleas but the blonde dismissed you, tossing your face back onto the bed.

Both girls had stripped themselves bare, Ellie positioned behind you as Abby sat in front of you, her cunt for you to gawk at, but forbidden to please.

In a sharp breath, you felt thick silicone push into you, causing your cunt to stretch. You cried, yet it was mumbled, and Abby laughed at you. “Gonna deny you everything, honey,” Ellie muttered, her hands grasping onto your cheeks for support as she carelessly thrusted into you, breaking into you. “Need to make you cry, need to know you’re fucking place with us.”

“We could easily get rid of you,” Abby continued on, and your brows knitted together, shaking your head. “Could’ve fucking disposed you months ago, but no. Here we are, still putting up with your bratty ass.”

You cursed and moaned breathlessly, the pain turning into a bliss as Ellie’s strap pounded into you. “Wouldn’t want that, huh?” She asked, and you cried in response. “Course not, honey. No one fuckin’ loves you like we do.”

You stared at Abby with teary eyes, your hand aching to touch her, only for the blonde to slap it away. “No, take what you are getting right now,” she warned, and you nodded, your hips rolling and swaying with the rhythm of Ellie’s thrusts. “Won’t ya look at that? Little bunny just can’t get enough.”

Your hands grasped onto the messy bed sheets, nails digging into them. You stuffed your face into the material, lewd noises eliciting from you through the ball gag, almost feeling as if your body was jolted with electricity the moment Ellie’s strap found your orgasmic area.

“She’s enjoying this too much,” Abby pointed out, and Ellie hummed, all movement being halted. You groaned in protest, and she switched around your body, laying you flat on your back. She straddled herself on top of you, intimidating you with how she towered over you.

She popped the gag out of your mouth, your lungs engulfing fresh air. “Oh, little lamb,” she softly whispered, and smacked your face again, seizing it afterwards. “You got me upset, you know that? Treating me like shit.”

“I’m sorry,” you whimpered, the strike burning your cheek before she placed another one. “Fuck!”

“You’re sorry?” She repeated, almost as if she didn’t trust you. “For which part, honey?”

“Just… just wanted to get a rise,” you admitted, breathing heavily. “Couldn’t ask for it.”

“Look where that landed you,” she said, and hit you once more, your head spinning. “You going to apologize to Abby, hm?” She climbed off of you, her hands guiding you around to face the blonde. “Say sorry, baby.”

You were a crying mess, and weren’t even at the worst part yet. Though you were scared, you were aroused; maybe you were as depraved as they were. You enjoyed the sadistic acts they brought onto you, wanting to be all theirs to use, and play with.

You were their girl at the end of the day, nothing could change that.

“I’m sorry, mama,” you mumbled, and Abby hummed, careless to your apology. “Please, mama. Didn’t mean it, I’ll be better.”

“You need to start acting right,” she said, and you nodded, mumbling promises through your sobs. “You aren’t able to leave us, you know that, right?”

“I won’t,” you reassured, sniffling. You knew that’s what many people wanted, that they knew you couldn't be without these two girls, simply as if they were your life support.

Everyone knew it.

“Where’s your blade?” Abby asked, and Ellie gestured to the night stand. She opened up the drawer, taking out her prized switchblade, something she always carried with her, but you didn’t know why. “Got to mark our girl.”

Ellie grabbed her knife, flicking it open, and she settled herself in between your thighs. She was grinning to herself, yet so was Abby, the two only knowing what they had done the previous night with the weapon, and you were clueless to it all.

“Need you to be a big girl for me,” Ellie stated, and you sucked in a sharp breath, the tip of the switchblade pointing into your right inner thigh, beginning to carve into your skin. “Right there, baby. Doing s’good for us, focus on mama.”

Abby scooted closer to you, putting your head on her lap. “Don’t cry, bunny. It’s gonna be over soon.”

Ellie branded her initial firstly into your right thigh before moving onto your left inner thigh, starting to cut Abby’s into it. You were trying your best to compose your body, squirming and softly sobbing to your skin being pierced.

“Mama, it hurts,” you pouted, and she caressed your cheek, looking down at you. “I know I’m your girl.”

“Just so you remember,” Abby reminded, groping your breasts. “Sometimes you forget, baby. We can’t keep repeating ourselves.”

You only nodded, melting into her gentle touch. Ellie threw her knife on top of the pile of clothes, smirking at initials. “Ah, now we can give you what you want,” she said, and you sighed in relief, a smile playing on your lips.

Dots of blood appeared on the wounds as the girls got up from the bed, opening the bottom drawer of the night stand. You stared up at the ceiling, ignoring the burn that scorned, and a large hand pressed onto the side of your body, shifting you around.

“Come on, baby,” Abby whispered, positioning you on your knees that sunk into the bed, and could feel her bare chest brush on your back. “Need you to spread yourself for us, you can do it.”

“You’re our girl,” Ellie promised, kneeling in front of you, and cradled your face into her warm hands. “Don’t know what we would do if you tried to leave us.”

Abby wetted her fingers, spitting down on your tight hole as she pushed two fingers into it to start you off. You roughly gasped, your body nearly faltering. “Stay steady, princess,” she said, moving her fingers at an easy pace. “Gotta prepare you for my cock, I need to make sure you can take it nice and sweet.”

Your face stayed in Ellie’s hands, trying to keep you focused on her. “Make sure to keep yourself spread for mama,” she told you, and you nodded, your shaky hands clawed down on your ass as you kept it spread open for Abby. “You can take it, you always do. Isn’t that right, sweet girl?”

“Yes daddy,” you muttered, and Abby’s fingers popped out of you. She put her hand back on your shoulder, guiding you back in the same moment she let her strap harshly sink into your whole. You cursed under your breath, tears welting in your eyes, and Ellie cooed, keeping your face in place.

Abby didn’t move further, letting your hole take in all of her, and nodded at Ellie. She dropped her hands, hooking your arms around her neck as she filled your hot cunt with her strap, and your body shuddered, your face collapsing down onto her chest. “No no, baby,” she said, shaking her head. “You gotta show us how much you want us. Fuck yourself on our cocks.”

“Too stuffed,” you mumbled, and Abby’s hand reached for the front of your neck, tugging your head back.

“Show us how needy you are, pathetic bitch,” Abby spat, and you whimpered, but compiled, gently bouncing yourself on both silicone objects. “Yeah, that’s it, bunny. Fuckin’ take everything we give you.”

Ellie’s was captivated by the way your cunt swallowed her strap, dripping and soaking it already. “This is all you wanted, right?” She taunted, breathlessly chuckling. “Just wanted us to make you cock drunk, for us to treat you like the dumb whore you are.”

“Y—Yes, yes!” You choked out, rolling your hips as your body began to endure the scorching pleasure. “Oh my god, feels s’fucking good, please.”

“You’re barely fuckin’ two minutes in on fucking yourself,” Abby laughed, bringing your head back and laid down on her shoulder, forcing you to look up at her, “And you’re already falling apart. Can even hear how wet your pussy is.”

“Want to be fucked, please,” you breathed, on a brink of sobs. “Can’t do it on my own.”

“You have to earn it, love,” she stated, and grinned. “Show us how bad you need us, want us to fuck your pretty holes.”

You pouted, and she shoved your head back forward, a spin of dizziness whirling in your brain. Ellie sadistically smirked in front of you, her hands laid on your thighs, and tilted her to the side. “Looks you’re about to cry, little lamb,” she teased, and you kept heavy eye contact as your holes stretched further with every desperate bounce. “Got nothing to cry about, honey. You brought this on yourself, you know that.”

“S—said sorry, daddy. I’m sorry,” your breath shook, sobs threatening to spill from you. You were overfilled with needs, feeling as if you were in heat, and only they could put the fire out. You could fuck yourself good, but they could make you feel orgasmic tides crash into your soul, and take you in one.

“Only saying sorry ‘cause you’re not getting what you want,” Ellie said, and you were quick to deny it. “Don’t fuckin’ lie, you know how much we hate that.”

“Please, please,” you begged. “I’ll be so good, won’t be a brat ever again.”

“Fucking lying again,” Ellie scoffed, and Abby grinned, smacking your ass. “Don’t worry baby, we like when you are; means we get to see you cry and break.”

You were stuck in the middle of these two, falling apart on their cocks as they observed you, waiting for you to break down into sobs. This was their whole pride, everything they fucking thrived off of, and if it made them the happiest they’ve ever been, you would them hurt you over and over again.

Your bouncing turned rapid, breasts in sync, and porngraphic noises drawing out of you. Your sensitive spots were being hit at, your eyes rolling back, and could feel heat pooling in your abdomen. Your hands reached out for one of them, but they denied you of it, leading you to fall into pits of sobs.

“There it is,” Abby growled. “Just what we wanted.”

“Can’t do it,” you sobbed, shaking your head. “Please, need mama. Need your help, please.”

“Yeah, bunny? Need us to take over?” She asked, mockery tangled in her tone. “Can’t use that silly brain of yours, huh? Our poor baby that’s useless.”

Her words mixed in with the fire that bubbled inside of you, expanding into your thighs. “Fuck me, fuck me,” you babbled, choking on your tears. “Need it s’bad, please. Just fuck me.”

Ellie halted your movements, and kissed your cheek. “We got you, honey. Let us do whatever we want, okay? We need to fill your holes, want to see it leak out of you.”

The duo situated themselves before handling you to stretch your form better, your knees locking place to keep you up. Abby braced her hands on your waist before her strap brutally thrusted into you, Ellie following the same tempo shortly after.

You could feel yourself being split open, Abby’s hands residing on your hips as Ellie’s let hers rest on the sides of your breasts. Their noises were shaky, rough, and undeniably lewd, a string of curses muttering out of them.

They would always be hypnotized by you, your body, and how fucking well you always took them. They would fuck you hours on end, and they have before, but they couldn’t get enough it. It was a fucking drug, worse than any they’ve taken. Everything about you was addicting and pure perfection to their eyes, knowing that they would be the only ones who could see you crumble under them like this, let them take control of you, and tear you apart.

They wanted to fucking spend the rest of their life in your pussy, fucking destroying it, and letting it cry with you.

Raw lust was a firestorm on your skin, sinking into your body, and coursing through you. Your climax was overrode, about to collapse on you, and take you entirely, just needing to be free. Your legs trembled, slowly weakening, and a muscular arm snaked around your waist to lock you in.

“Our pretty girl needs to cum,” she acknowledged, and Ellie’s fingers furiously hooked around your throat, squeezing it. “What do you think, babe? We let her cum?”

“Don’t know if she deserves it,” Ellie said, and your sobs were uncontrollable; your body was breaking, haze clouded in your head, and your high was unbearable over the limit. “You want to cum, little lamb? ‘M having too much fun seeing you like this.”

“Wanna cum, need to cum,” you blubbered, breath hallowed, and could feel them so far into you, you could almost swear they were poking at your stomach. “I’ll be so good forever. ‘M your girl, only yours; won’t ever be ungrateful again.”

Ellie grinned. “You mean that, honey?”

You mindlessly nodded, agreeing anything just so you could cum — it was fucking torturous.

“Cum for us, sweetheart,” Abby said, and you exhaled in relief, your body relaxing to her permission. Like a violent hit, your high crashed out of you causing your body to jump and shudder. Abby kept her arm around you, the pair not being done with you until they came.

You could hear the sploshing of your juices as Ellie viciously rammed into you, Abby’s cock abusing your tight hole with absolutely no remorse. You were there, letting yourself be their garbage waste, waiting for them to fill you up.

“Imagine if we could fuckin’ put a baby in her,” Abby laughed, her moans knitted into it. “Make her our bitch forever, wouldn’t be able to leave us then.”

“That what you want, angel? For us to make you a pretty mommy?” Ellie asked, and you blankly agreed, braindead and numb. “Keep you trapped forever, nowhere to fuckin’ go.”

Abby and Ellie always considered that; having a family with you, though they never practically discussed it with you, or if that’s what you wanted. They truly wanted you in their life forever, needed you in every way that would kill them if they couldn’t have it. And if you did try to exit out of their lives, they would find a solution to reel you back in.

“Mama gonna fill your hole, ‘kay?” Abby warned, and you hummed, falling in and out of reality. Ellie left her on your throat as extra leverage as she continued to hammer herself into you, her own climax trailing behind the blonde’s.

A symphony of vulgar, raw noises echoed throughout the bedroom, and your second peak surfaced in the depths of your belly, your body frail and trembling.

“Fuck, baby, baby, baby,” Ellie cried out, her nails clawing into your skin, and Abby’s hands crept down to your cheeks, clawing into them. Your skin was running hot and wild, their body heat radiating onto you as the room smelt of filth and sweat, shameless moans and whimpers wailing out of all three of you.

Your cunt and hole were stuffed with cum from their straps with Abby and Ellie’s climax dripped out of their sweet pussies. They pushed themselves out of you, and you fell back on the bed, gathering lungfuls of breaths.

“Won’t you look at that?” Abby said, her and Ellie mesmerized by their cum leaking out of your holes, their initials branded into your thighs. “So fuckin’ pretty, all for us to look at.”

“Head… hurts,” is all you could manage to say, curling up into a ball.

The girls took off their object, dropping it to the floor as they separated to obtain things for you. Abby went to the kitchen, grabbing cold water, painkillers, and a box of cherries for you; Ellie was in the bathroom, wetting a rag, and seized the first aid kit.

They rushed to your side in under a minute, worried that they might have finally done it this time.

“Baby, you with us?” Ellie panicked, and you nodded, sleep wanting to take you. “Can you sit up for us, please?”

“Can’t,” you whimpered, and Abby sighed, helping to pick you up. She kissed the side of your head, holding you sit up while Ellie aided you.

“You did so good for us, sweetheart,” Ellie cooed, running the cloth over your aching cunt and hole as you hissed in response. “I know, I know. Just need to make sure we clean you up well, okay?”

Abby brought up the glass of water to lips, stroking the side of your head while you took slow sips. “There we go, there’s our tough girl,” she whispered, and opened up the bottle of painkillers, inserting two pills in your mouth, returning the glass back to your mouth afterwards. “We’re so proud of you. You’re okay, bunny, we’re almost done.”

Ellie soothed your wounds with hydrogen peroxide, putting bandaids over it after. She put a chaste kiss to your hip, and you smiled small, thanking her. “You want to get some rest?” She asked, and you nodded. “Okay, honey, let us change the sheets while you eat some food, yeah?”

Abby carried to the loveseat sofa that sat in the corner of the bedroom, handing you the box of cherries as she helped out Ellie. The two weren’t even cleaned up, but made sure you were comfortable and okay before they were.

You wanted to cry.

They’re so fucking perfect, you said in your head.

You had eaten about five cherries by the time they fixed up the mattress, and put new sheets on top of it. You set the food next to you, and Abby returned to you, scooping you into her arms as you grasped onto her, sitting you on the edge of the bed.

Ellie picked out a new set of pajamas for you, changing you into new underwear, and a soft, pink nightgown. “Get some rest, and we’re gonna get ourselves fixed, ‘kay?” She said, guiding you under the duvet covers, and made sure you were tucked in. “We’ll be here when you wake up.”

You hummed, your eyes drooping, and let rest take over you. You felt them press a loving kiss to your forehead before you passed out.

You could hear your ringtone tune, lulling you out of your slumber. You let it go through as it shut up a few seconds later, and you groaned, trying to fall back asleep.

Then, the ringtone came back, and the buzzing added onto it. Your hand reached for your phone, finding it laying next to you. You grabbed it, squinting to who was calling.

Joel Miller, the contact name flashed.

Why the fuck was Joel calling?

You noticed the time, seeing it to be 4PM — how fucking long were you asleep for?

You swiped the button right, bringing the device up to your ear. “Hello?” You mumbled, clearly exhausted and groggy.

“Hey, kid. I was wonderin’ if Ellie was with you?” He asked, trying to sound calm, but wasn’t. You instantly sat up, finding a note on the nightstand, and you picked it up.

Abby and I went out to get some things. Be back as soon as we can. Love you always, sweet girl.

Xo, Ellie.

“Um, no,” you answered, putting the note down. “Why? Did something happen?”

There was silence for a moment. “The cops are here, asking for her.”

“Cops. Why?” You asked, fear streaming through your whole body.

“They’re accusing her of murder,” Joel said, and you swallowed thickly. “Someone reported their friend missing — a Brandon James — saying how they saw him leave with Ellie, and Abby.”

Memories now began to flick in your brain, like bright lights, and bile burned at your throat.

The shirt. The red on the shirt.

Blood.

“We handled it,” you recalled Ellie saying.

“We handled it” was code for “we killed someone.”

You remembered the Brandon guy harassing you, grabbing your arm, and it sent you into full panic mode. You remember calling Abby about it, and Ellie giving you coke to distract you for the meantime. You remembered them not being with you for a while, keeping you with Dina and Jesse.

They needed you blind and gullible.

“Are you sure it’s even her description? People just say shit ‘cause they hate her,” you said, holding yourself together. “And Abby? That’s crazy.”

“Another person at the club supported it by saying they saw the two walking out with you,” Joel continued, and you quietly cursed under your breath, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes. “They were there, so were you.”

You went quiet as you heard some shuffling over the line.

“Do you know something?” He asked.

“I don’t,” you said, sincerity mingled in your words. “I promise I don’t. And I don’t remember anything about being at a club, I’m sorry.”

“Okay, well if you see her or them, call me,” Joel said, and you hummed, hanging up the call immediately. You let go of your shaky breaths, and nodded to yourself as a waterfall of hot tears streamed down your cheeks.

You couldn’t stop thinking of the shirt. It had someone’s blood on it, and they were dumb enough to leave it at home. You knew Jesse and Dina wouldn’t narc them out, they were the same as Ellie and Abby.

You were alone in this; you had the choice of coming forward with the shirt, or keeping your head down, being naive to everything.

Everything started to make sense — the possession, the house, the authority you had given them. They never wanted you to leave, and they eliminated any threats, even ones that hurt you. You were glad they were there at your beck and call, but you never knew it would go to the extremes of murder. You were starting to worry that this wasn’t the first time they did this, but the first time it was starting to catch up with them.

You continued to sob as you went through your phone contacts, and clicked your mother’s number.

It took a few rings until she picked up. “Hello?”

“Momma…” you sobbed out, not knowing how to explain what you were thinking without exposing a lot of things. “Momma, I’m worried.”

Your parents weren’t entirely neglectful — if you really needed them, they were there, and would never get mad at you for anything, even if you had some fault in it. They had their fatal flaws, ones that even affected you, but they’d drop everything if you were in danger.

You never knew why that was, but you appreciated it.

“What’s wrong, dear? What happened?” She asked. “Why are you crying?”

“I think something bad happened,” you sobbed, sniffling. “And… and I can’t be here, in the city. It’s a lot to explain, but can I stay with you in Milan? Please?”

“You’re worrying me, cherie,” she said, and you broke down further, everything in the room spinning with you. “You can come stay. Are you at home?”

“At this penthouse… I’ll send the address to Tony,” you stated, trying to steady your breathing. “Thank you, momma.”

“Of course,” she softly responded, and the line went dead. You rushed down to your feet, running into the walk-in closet, and grabbed a suitcase. You tossed random amounts of clothes until the baggage couldn’t take anymore; you could buy more stuff in Milan.

You tossed your hygienic products on top of the clothes, and before you were going to zip up the luggage, your eyes averted to the hamper. You contemplated taking the shirt with you, burning it in another country so nothing would be traced back to them.

You couldn’t tamper with evidence. But these were your girls, and it was your turn to take care of them, even if their actions made you sick at this very moment. You grabbed the bloody shirt, tucking it under your clothes, and zipped up the suitcase. You put on your sneakers, and tossed a leather jacket over your nightgown.

Abby’s jacket.

You shrugged it off, and grabbed your cell phone, putting it in your purse. You double checked to see if you had everything in your purse before rushing yourself out of the penthouse, and into the elevator.

You didn’t need to leave a note, or anything of that sort. You couldn’t talk to them for a while, not until you made sure you weren’t crazy or overthinking this whole situation. But the shirt was enough to confirm the first of your suspicions, and what Ellie said.

“We handled it”, her voice kept playing in your head, like a broken record.

For now, you needed to isolate yourself; besides, it wasn’t like they would find you.

That wasn’t possible.

You hoped.

[borathae]

The Consequences of Fucking Up

“Your break up was messy and painful. All you want to do is to forget about him. His friends, who ever since you ended it with Yoongi see you as their bullying target, make sure that the memory of him stays fresh in your mind however, haunting you day by fucking day. While Yoongi makes it seem as if he gives no fuck about your situation. Until one night he is in front of your door. Drunk and fucking regretful.”

♥️ Requested by anonie ♥️

Pairing: Gangster!Yoongi x f.Reader

Genre: Exes!AU, Messy Break-Up!AU, Crime!AU, Cop!AU, Hurt and Comfort, Angst, Smut, a lil bit of Fluff

Wordcount: 15.9k

Warnings: lowkey they're bad for each other, but also somehow so right?, OC is such a people hater, I feel like she has mental health issues which are never addressed tbfh, she is quite the pessimist, unhealthy consumption of alcohol, smoking of cigarettes & weed (listen. i hate smoking and stand by that but it sadly fits their characters), Yoongi is kinda apathetic and cold, or is he??, IS HE???, implied violence and murder, corrupt cops & lawyers, policeman!Jungkook makes an appearance and he stole my heart tbfh :(, he is so cute that i almost sobbed, drugdealer!Hoseok makes an appearance too, there is also detective!Namjoon and smuggler!Taehyung because I love this vibe :); abuse of power, fuck Yoongi just fuck he is so ngngn, slightly protective & possessive!Yoongi, intoxicated sex, desperate!Yoongi, no foreplay, but she is not uncomfortable, choking (m.receiving), rough desperate sex, position change from sex against a sofa to missionary on said sofa, a lil bit of strength kink hihi, he cums too soon, dirty talk, tears :'), he is actually so emotional during the sex, the ending is so cheesy and cute <3, Spoiler: he is willing to change!! and he is a cutie actually, jsjsjsj sorry but i love yoongi a lot :(

Disclaimer: This is purely fiction and isn't like my usual stories. It does not portray how the boys actually are and it is not how I see them. This is a work of fiction with no correlation to real life. The type of relationships depicted in this story are far from how I normally portray my relationships and I do not advertise for such relationhips or staying in such relationships. This story is supposed to be twisted and dark & so are the relationships in it, as well as the characters. You have been warned. If you decide to continue reading, then it is out of your own free will.

a/n: now that the disclaimer is out of the way i can officially bark because woof woof fuckkcc anonie thank you so much for this idea. i had the worst and best time writing this story like nfnfnf her mental state was definitely very difficult to write, but their tension just got to me. i made the ending as cute and fluffy as possible just as you wanted hihi <3 also i love villian characters who would set the whole world on fire just to prove their dedication :) i hope this is what you imagined, because i kinda made it longer and with more plot than i planned to at first sjjsjs i couldn't be stopped jsjsj ALSO this is giving me the perfect opportunity to finally write a Kook request I got years ago ohoho

Yoongi collides with the wall, feeling the cold nuzzle of the gun press against his chin. He drops the keys and flowers he was carrying, lifting his hands in defeat.

“Careful, it’s just me”, he lulls.

“Get the fuck out of my house”, you spit, carrying murder in your eyes. 

Three months prior

“So you’re breaking up with me?” he asks, gawking at you with widened eyes. He looks more surprised than he does hurt. Probably because it hasn’t actually sunk in yet.

“I am.”

“No, you’re not.” He laughs because he never takes anything seriously.

“Yes. I am.”

“Too bad, I won’t act like it.”

“Yeah, you will.”

He laughs, “you’ve had better jokes, but I still admire the commitment.”

“You see. That’s the problem with you. Everything’s a fucking joke to you.”

He is smiling. It reaches his eyes.

“Your job, your men. Me. Everything’s a fucking joke to you. If you would have taken Sukuna’s thread seriously, Soojin would still be alive. If you didn’t fucking insult Miss Mei, you wouldn’t have lost twenty thousand in drugs and you wouldn’t have to fucking kiss asses like a beggar.”

His smile doesn’t reach his eyes anymore.

“If you would have put any kind of effort into me, I wouldn’t be leaving now. You take everything as a joke, while in reality you are the biggest joke here.”

His smile falls. You stood up and that actually scared him. 

“Wait baby, wait. Princess, we can talk about this”, he argues, closing the distance with his arms stretched open. “I’ll fix the issue with Miss Mei, I promise.”

“Doesn’t matter. I’m done talking. Soojin died because of your recklessness.” 

Yoongi touches your hands. He holds them, clutches them. You have never felt such a touch from him before. As if he actually loved you. 

“What can I do? Tell me and I’ll do it”, he offers, caressing your knuckles. 

This is what you craved for months. Affection. Attention. You were always a passing thought to him. Something to fuck and possess. Something low maintenance like all his other shit. His current touch almost makes you want to stay because for the briefest moment, your breaking heart wants to believe that he finally changed. 

But you know better. He doesn’t take you seriously and if you stay, you will one day end up like Soojin. Metaphorically or not, you will end up dead because of him. 

“There is nothing you can do. Sorry.”

You slip out of his touch.

“Baby”, Yoongi follows you with panicked eyes, trying to touch you again.

“Goodbye, Min Yoongi.”

“Please don’t leave me.”

You close the door and run, finally letting the tears escape. 

You love him.

You always have and perhaps always will. 

You don’t want to leave, but know that staying will kill you. 

One week passes. You spent it holed up in your small, shitty apartment, crying your heart out. Yoongi was the best and worst thing that ever happened to you and you miss him. You hate that you miss him. Because he was way worse than he was good. 

He was never abusive. He was a violent man to anyone but you. You, he always touched with utmost care. At you, he never screamed. But he was still not good. He was cold and apathetic at times, then terribly affectionate at others, only to become cold again. And you couldn’t take it anymore. 

You wouldn’t have left your apartment today if your fridge hadn’t been empty. It wasn’t always empty, but sadly enough, groceries don’t magically appear. Not even for an outlaw such as yourself.

The city is busy. The smell of street food, smog and body odor poisons the air. The weather is hot these days and people started sweating more. You can’t stand people. You pull the mask tighter around your nose, hoping to shield the stench this way. 

You greet the clerk when you enter the shop, lowering your mask. It smells of grocery store in here. Fresh bread, produce and clean floors. It’s a welcome change to the rancid outside.

You spent fourty minutes in the shop and pay with cash. You never pay with card because it can be traced. Someone like you can’t risk being found. 

“See you”, you say your goodbyes and leave the store. You plan on coming back in three weeks. You can’t stand being outside often.

The door just about closed behind you and then someone jumps you. Three people to be more exact. Two hold your arms while one rips the bags out of your hands. 

“Let go! Hey, you fuckers!” you fight them off instantly, surprised at how easily it is to do. Way too easy. They let go of you as quickly as they grabbed you. At first you think that nothing happened, until you notice your grocery bags in one of the guys’ hands. They stole your stuff!

“You motherfuckers! Get back here! They’re mine!” 

They run away, flipping you off over their shoulders.

You sprint after them, but before you reach them, they jump onto a tuk tuk and drive off, finally showing you their faces. Those were some of Yoongi’s underlings.

“What the fuck?” You stumble back in disbelief. “Did they fucking steal my food? What the fuck’s happening?” 

It takes you a while before you finally come to the conclusion that you have to buy everything they stole a second time. And you do. And nobody jumps you. And you go home, make yourself shitty dinner and drink a bottle of soju all by yourself. It isn’t a good night. It’s a shit night. But then. All your nights have been shit for years.

You met Yoongi four years ago. It correlates with when your shit nights began. Okay, you are being unfair. The first two years with him were paradise and your nights were wonderful. You were an aspiring lawyer, while he was in the midst of getting a promotion to superintendent.  You supported each other’s dreams, motivated each other and celebrated when your goals were achieved. Then the truth spilled out. The man you knew to love turned out to be a lie. Why you never left, you do not know. He gave you the chance to leave, but you didn’t. You made yourself low maintenance to him and your nights became shit. He pretended to be a proper policeman by day while you pretended to be a proper lawyer and at night he became what he hunted by day while you tried to hide whatever evidence about him flooded into the offices. You hated it at first, then loved it, then lost your job because of it and became dependent on him and started to hate it again. Well, at least working for him. You liked everything else. Having to work in the system and seeing how corrupt even the most eligible politicians or CEOs truly are, made you realise that perhaps stealing from them isn’t as bad as it first sounded. You liked being on the dark side of the law because the bright side was just as twisted. You just simply started to hate that it means being close to Yoongi.

It took Soojin’s death to finally make you realise that staying with him will end in your death as well. And so you finally left.

You will start a new life, make up a new identity, move to a different country and forget about him. Maybe. Who knows. You haven’t decided yet.

A letter comes five days after the grocery store incident. It is stuffed into an unsealed envelope and clearly delivered by the person who wrote it. You open it, feeling shit instantly. Whoever wrote this letter is calling you the most hurtful of names, telling you personal stuff which truly hurts. You throw it away and go back inside, opening a bottle of soju. It wasn’t Yoongi’s handwriting, but somehow you still think that it is connected to him. You try not to let it get to you, but you still end up rotting away in your bed for the rest of the week only leaving it to piss, shit and eat. 

The next week your packages are missing. You never get them back. The culprit is never found. You curse the sky, knowing that it was fruitless. Yet again, you think that it was connected to him. To Yoongi, the man you wanted to forget, but who keeps haunting you day by day.

The city at night is a dangerous place. If you don’t know where to walk, you could find yourself in a rather messy situation. Especially as a woman. You are glad that most women are clever enough to stay at home once darkness greets the streets. Most women don’t know how to defend themselves though. Properly and without the law in mind. You killed before. Once. It was self defence. Yoongi took care of the body, you never found out what happened to it. He stayed with you the night it happened, even let you cry in his arms. He was gone the next day and never spoke of it again.

You clutch the big knife tightly in your bag, scanning the streets constantly. It isn’t far anymore until you are home. Hopefully the heavy rain clouds stay dry until you get there. You aren’t in the mood to get wet. Not tonight. You would have never left if you hadn’t ran out of fucking cigarettes. The kiosk was closed, so the journey was useless. Thunder announces that the clouds aren’t your friends. Mere seconds later, it starts pouring.

“Fucking shit, I hate this city.”

Rain in this city is always dirty and never really cold. You take it as a bad sign. Rain shouldn’t be warm. Not always, not constantly. Something’s wrong with this city. Something is rotting slowly until one day it will consume everything in its wake. You hope to have left before it can wake up.

The way home is too long for the amount of dirty rain it pours. You find refuge under a shop sign. There are no rooftops or canopies in sight and the only thing close to a safe place was the stupid restaurant sign. Authentic Asian Beef Noodles, it reads in bright red letters. The place is stuffed with people and the smell of beef broth mixes with the dirty scent of rain. You grind your teeth. What a shitty situation you find yourself in. You prefer being outside though. You know that once inside, the restaurant would be hot and stink of digested booze and body odor. You take getting wet over breathing in people’s air.

Except that you don’t really stay wet for long. The distinct sound of rain hitting an umbrella meets your ears. You look up. Black. You look to the side at the person holding it. Yoongi. Your stomach twists, your heart skips a beat. He is wearing a suit tonight. Black with a black tie. His hair is slicked back. He used makeup to  conceal the scar running all the way from his forehead over his eye and down half his cheek. This is his work outfit. His police chief outfit. Yes. He is a chief these days.

Your instincts tell you to leave without saying anything, but it’s been six weeks since the breakup and you still love him. You hate that you do, but can’t stop staring at his face. He has his brows raised in a nonchalant way as he inspects the heavy rain. He doesn’t grant you eye contact, but holds the umbrella in a way which lets you know that he came out here after seeing you. His left shoulder is getting wet, while you stay dry completely.

“What are you doing here?” you hear yourself ask him.

“Work dinner. I have to pay ‘cause I’m the boss and all that shit. They’re eating like greedy pigs”, he scoffs, “fucking assholes.”

“I see.”

“You?” 

“Buying smokes.”

He finally looks at you, studying from head to toe.

“The kiosk was closed”, you answer his question about your cigarettes’ whereabouts before he can ask it.

“I thought you quit.”

“Some things happened which made me start again.”

“Mhm”, he hums and takes out a packet of cigarettes from the inside of his suit jacket. He lights himself one and puts the packet away again, leaving you to stare at the smoke he blows out through his nose.

He isn’t actually serious, is he? It is like he is mocking you. It is already bad enough that he sends his stupid goons to terrorise you, now he is mocking you as well? You hate that you still love him.

You stay like this for a while. You staring at him while he holds the umbrella for you and smokes. You don’t know why you stay. You hate that you love him. You hate it so much.

Yoongi takes a long drag of the cigarette and exhales the smoke in an almost sigh-like breath. He lifts the cigarette, holding it closer to you.

“What?” you sound disbelieved, scandalised even.

He doesn’t say anything. He just shows you the cigarette as his eyes follow the endless rain. You hate that you love him. You hate it so much. But you still take the cigarette and put your lips right where he had his’ moments before. But you still smoke it as if it was the most normal thing to do. Because it once was. You and he shared many smokes in the past. It was once the most sensual, erotic thing to do between you and him. Barely clothed, intoxicated minds and high on the other, you often shared a joint as you got each other off. Fuck, it was always so fucking orgasmic to be with him that way.

“Wanna grab a bite?” he offers, pointing at the restaurant behind him, “one more mouth to feed isn’t gonna ruin me.”

You are hungry. You haven’t had a proper meal in weeks. Instant ramen, frozen food and snacks is all your body has to run on. You have no energy to cook and with how shitty you eat, it is a vicious cycle. Shitty food gives little energy, you already have low energy. The motivation to properly cook grows lower and lower each day. You dread the day you have only enough energy left to open a package of chips and eat it for breakfast, lunch and dinner.

“I’m not hungry.”

He glances at you. He knows that you are lying. Your eyes have greyed in starvation. He almost rips the cigarette out of your fingers and smokes it angrily, huffing out the smoke. 

“I’m offering”, he hisses.

“And I’m declining. I can take care of myself”, you throw back and rip the cigarette from his grasp to smoke it angrily. 

You may be starving, but you will be damned if you make yourself dependent on him again. You left him to finally prove to yourself that you can take care of yourself. You don’t need his help. Not anymore. 

You take another deep drag, then hand the cigarette to him. He smokes it, glaring at you. You know that your stubbornness angers him.

“Tell your men to stop pestering me”, you say into the tense silence. 

He looks over his shoulder at his police team. They are too drunk and caught in conversation to pay their boss any mind.

“They’re inside”, he says.

“You know I don’t mean them. Tell your other men to stop annoying me.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Yes. You do.” It is your turn to smoke. “It all started when they stole my groceries, but it’s been getting childish. My packages keep getting stolen, my internet cuts off, I find letters in my mail. Letters saying awful things about me. It’s getting ridiculous. Tell your men to stop terrorising me.”

“Stolen packages?” He takes the cigarette from you, brushing his fingers against yours as he does. The touch feels like the sweetest poison on your skin. “This doesn’t sound like my problem to solve. Go to the police.”

“Are you serious?” 

He inhales, exhales the smoke into your face. You should be disgusted by it, but almost huff it in like an addict. Yoongi watches your lids lower and your chest raise in a greedy breath, finding it hard not to stare at your lips as he hands you the cigarette. You smoke it. His eyes are still on your lips, glued to the shape of them as his throat runs dry.

“Very serious”, he rasps.

“You are the police”, you throw back in disbelief, exhaling the smoke into his face that way.

“Mhm yeah, I guess I am.” He takes the cigarette, smoking it with half lidded eyes. He exhales, handing you the cigarette. “When are you going to come home again?” he asks, looking back at the rain.

You almost choke on the smoke, exhaling it in a cough. Yoongi glances at you from the corner of his eyes.

“Your farce is getting ridiculous”, he says coldly.

“My farce?”

This break up wasn’t the first break up you and he went through. You left many times before, always thinking that you were finally strong enough to forget him only to come crawling back again. You don’t blame him for doubting that this time will be different, but you still can’t stop yourself from getting angry.

“Did you even hear what I said?”

“I did. Go to the police. I have nothing to do with it.”

You drop the half-finished cigarette. It dies in the puddle on the ground.

“I was smoking this”, he says dryly, “besides, don’t litter.”

“Pick it up yourself if you care so much about these dirty ass streets”, you spit and turn to leave. You take getting wet over being with him any longer.

Yoongi watches you leave, shakes his head in disbelief and bends down to pick up the cigarette. He won’t run after you because you will come crawling back eventually. You always do.

“Sir?” 

He turns his head. One of his officers. He is young and with sparkles of big dreams in his eyes. Yoongi pities him. This city is going to chew him up until there is nothing left of him. He had the same dreams once and knows what the viper nest, which is the justice system, is going to do to him. 

“What do you want?” he asks him dryly, rolling the wet cigarette between his fingers.

“Who did you talk to right now?”

“Just someone important to me.”

“Shouldn’t we escort her home? It’s raining and there could be criminals on the streets. It’s too dangerous for a woman to be alone.”

“She’ll get home safely.”

“Are you sure, Sir? I stayed sober for cases like these. I could get the car right away.”

“You’re sober?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“But it’s a work dinner. You’ve been off work for hours.”

The young officer salutes, “I know, Sir but a policeman shouldn’t slack, Sir.”

Yoongi feels deep pity for the young man. He is so motivated, so proper and full of good spirit. Waking up is going to hurt like a bitch for him.

He pats him on the shoulder.

“You’re a good person, Jeon”, he says and swerves past him to get back inside. 

The young officer follows him with pride glimmering in his innocent eyes. Yes, waking up is going to hurt like a bitch for him. 

Yoongi wasn’t always living two lives. He was like his young officer once. Full of dreams and motivation. He dreamed of using his powers to do good, to help those who needed it most and then he woke up. He watched politicians and men in power ruin, rape and kill the powerless without ever getting punished for it. He felt helpless. If even someone in his position can’t change the world, then who will? His criminal work was honourable once. He slipped evidence money under the table to hand out to the powerless, he let proof disappear for people doing crimes out of desperation. One time he was supposed to put a starving mother behind bars because she stole diapers for her babies. Yoongi couldn’t do it and so he disobeyed the law for these kinds of people.

But then his criminal work became less about the powerless and more about him. Making money the illegal way was easy and it is fucking addicting. Especially when he could make sure that evidence about him never reached the higher ups. Yoongi fucking loved the sudden power he possessed and he was too blinded by it to see that he became exactly what drove him to criminality in the first place.

Yoongi tells his officer to check up on your place that night. The young officer rings the doorbell like he was told to do.

You open it, swaying from intoxication as you do. The stench of digested booze wafts off you. But you somehow seem to sober up when you see the police badges on his shirt.

“You’ve got the wrong person”, you tell him, trying to morph your face into an expression of sobriety.

“Don’t worry, Miss. I came here to check on you.”

“Check on me?”

“Yes, Miss.” He salutes you. “I have orders from my captain to make sure that you arrived home safely and that you received this”, he says with an innocent smile on his lips, presenting a plastic bag to you. 

Authentic Asian Beef Noodles, it reads in red letters and inside, three big takeout containers of food are waiting to be eaten. 

Everything clicks into place. This is one of Yoongi’s employees. Another young, hopeful spirit which will be crushed in the system. You pity the young officer. You had the same innocent sparkle in your eyes once.

Hesitantly, you accept the takeout food.

“Thanks”, you mumble.

“Any time, Miss.” He studies you for a moment. “Are you…are you okay, Miss?”

You bite back tears. His empathy is going to kill him one day. But it feels so good to receive. You haven’t been asked this question in so long.

You shake your head. He straightens up in worry. 

“Should I call help for you, Miss?”

You know what he indicates.

“Thank you, no. I’m just going through some shit. Sorry, I’m being sappy tonight.”

“You don’t have to go through it alone, Miss.”

“I know. I’m just… I’m seriously alright, I won’t do anything stupid. You don’t have to worry, officer.” 

“Yes, well I still see it as my duty to stay because you seem sad to me”, he says and tries to go inside your apartment. He still has a lot to learn. You know from his eyes that he has no bad intentions and that he truly wants to help, but you know how the city will treat such deeds. One day he will try to help the wrong person and end up with attempted sexual assault charges. And it will fucking destroy him because people like him only see the good in the world and can’t imagine that others would want to hurt people.

You stop him with a guiding hand on his chest.

“That isn’t necessary, really. My packages keep getting stolen and I guess it’s been annoying me.”

He pulls out a pen paper instantly, stepping closer to you without noticing, “your packages? Have you seen anyone suspicious? How many packages have gone missing? When did it start?”

“No, I… Thank you for your concern and the food, but I will get through the night safely.”

He steps back, cheeks reddened in embarrassment.

“Forgive me, I don’t know why I did that. My captain said that you were important to him and that I should make sure that you are well, so I wanted to do a good job at it.” He bows at you deeply. “Please forgive me, Miss.” 

“He said that?” you whisper.

He nods his head, “yes, Miss.”

“Oh. Uhm. ” You clear your throat. “Thank you, I, uhm, tell him that I’m good.” 

“I will, Miss. Here, my card. You can always call me when you need something” he hesitates, “or when you just need someone to talk to.” 

“Thank you. This is so kind.”

“You are never alone, Miss.”

“Thank you”, you say, bowing at him. He is so kind. God, you want to grab him and tell him to run before it’s too late.

He bows as well, “good night, Miss.”

“Good night.”

You watch him leave. He gives you one last look out of the police car and a kind wave, then drives off. 

You close the door with a curse. This just sobered you up. The young policeman’s kindness just sobered you up. You check his name on the card he handed you. Jeon Jungkook. Why someone like him? He never should have found his way into this field of work. 

You look at the takeout food next, feeling your stomach twist. You are important to Yoongi. Holy fuck.

It’s been eight weeks since you left him. You don’t feel better. The cigarette you shared was two weeks ago and yet you still feel as if it was sticking to your lungs. Each time you breathe out, you swear you can taste him. It almost suffocates you and keeps you from relaxing. So you leave your depressing place for a walk to the kiosk. You read somewhere that walks are good for one’s mental health. You can’t agree. Walks force you to be outside where people are loud and fucking stink.

The vendor must be fucking with you. The day is bright, but the kiosk is closed again. You bang your fist against the closed door, cursing loudly. You want your fucking smokes is that too much to ask? This city is fucking shit.

You’ll just call someone who will always help. You saved him as Jay. His real name is Hoseok. You don’t say his real name in public. He doesn’t say yours. Yoongi sometimes called him his best friend, but what is such a title out of the mouth of the most apathetic man you know? You were his girlfriend too and look at where this has gotten you, living as an outlaw in the shit and dirt of this city.

Like always, Hoseok lets the phone ring four times then he picks up.

“Flames are hot”, he says.

“And the arsonist works hard”, you answer him.

“Hyacinth, it’s good to hear your voice”, there is finally a smile in his voice now that you answered the code correctly.

“The same goes for you, Jay.”

“What’s up? I haven’t heard from you in ages.”

“Nothing much. I’m out of smokes.”

“The corner in twenty?”

“Yeah.”

You and he end the call at the same time. Twenty minutes later you meet. He wears black overalls and smudged eyeliner. He says it keeps the char easier to hide. Like always, he greets you with a quick hug.

“What do you got?” you ask him.

“Whatever you want.” He opens his bag. “I’ve got cigarettes, but something stronger too”, he says, scurrying around the contents of the bag with his fingers. He always has burn marks on them, but somehow they are never dirty.

“What do fifty bucks buy?”

“For you? Two packs of cigarettes and two joints. That’s a steal.”

“Fuck dude, you’re getting expensive.”

“Yeah well, a man’s gotta eat.”

“Fine, I’ll take it.”

You and he exchange goods. He makes small talk.

“But why are you here with me? Did Suga run out of goods?”

Suga is Yoongi’s codename in public. The sound of it almost brings bile into your throat. You did such a good job in forgetting him and now the memory of him is as fresh as a new day. At least you like to pretend that you are doing a good job at forgetting him. Your heart knows better though.

“We, uhm…”

Hoseok exhales sharply, “again?”

You nod your head.

“When?”

“More than two months ago.”

“Damn, that’s long.”

“Yeah, I’m serious about it.”

He cocks his brow up.

“I am”, you insist just a little snappishly.

“Alright”, he closes his bag, “I gotta go now.”

“Already?”

He looks around nervously. Almost as if he didn’t want to be seen with you.

“Yup. Use the stuff wisely, I won’t have new stuff for a while.”

“Seriously?”

He nods his head and salutes you nonchalantly.

“See you around.”

“See…you?”

He turns his back to you and walks off quickly, soon disappearing into the busy crowd. Is this your fate? Even the people closest to you avoid you now that you aren’t Yoongi’s anymore? Were you truly only worth something as his little thing? You ball your hands into fists, bending the joints this way. You have to leave this fucking place. There is actually nothing holding you here anymore.

That night the phone terror starts. Numbers keep calling you over and over and over again. You pick up the first time, only to have to listen to the most hurtful things another human has ever said to you. The voice wasn’t Yoongi’s, but you still blame him. Now that you aren’t his thing anymore, you became free food to whoever had been waiting to make your life a living hell. You turn off your phone after an hour and go to sleep with the help of Hoseok’s joints.

The doorbell wakes you the next morning. You consider not answering because it’s probably just one of his goons wanting to terrorise you. But whoever is ringing the doorbell is stubborn, forcing you out of your bedroom. You look through the door cam first.

That young officer. He is in full uniform.

You open the door hesitantly.

“Good morning”, he greets you with a wave and a smile.

“Good morning”, you murmur. Your mouth is as dry as a fucking desert. You are also so hungry that you could throw up in his face right now.

“How are you feeling, Miss?”

“Good.”

“That’s good to hear.” He says and shows you a package which he kept hidden behind his back all this time. He smiles brightly and proudly. “Tada!”

“What’s that?”

“I caught the package thief, Miss.”

“Are you serious?” you gasp and your eyes instinctively drift to the car you have noticed parked outside your unit for days. The door is opened and someone is sitting in the backseat. He looked cuffed to the seat. You glance at the young officer and the shiteating, proud grin he is sporting. He has been watching you? Did Yoongi tell him to?

“Wait. You’re actually serious.”

“Very serious. For you, Miss”, he says and shoves the package into your face.

“Uhm, uh. Thanks”, you accept it, putting it under your arm. “Have you been watching me?”

“Did you notice the car? Sorry, I thought that I was better hidden. I’m still new to all of this. But I caught the thief, heh.” He points at himself with his thumbs. “That’s my first real arrest.”

He manages to drag an honest smile to your lips. He is kind of adorable in a way.

“That’s cool. Thank you for taking care of it. Now I’ve got nothing to worry about anymore.”

He grins and nods his head, studying your features afterwards. He opens his mouth.

“Jeon are you there? Over”, his walkie talkie interrupts whatever he wanted to ask you. He takes it off his chest harness.

“I’m here, Kim Sir. Over.”

“Come to the precinct. We need reinforcements. Over.”

“Coming right away, Sir. I caught a thief right now, Sir. Over.”

A pause where the higher officer is definitely baffled by his confession.

“Good job, Jeon. Over.”

The young officer giggles before he speaks again, doing so as seriously as possible.

“Thank you, Kim Sir. I am taking the criminal to the precinct. Over.”

“Understood. Over.”

He puts the walkie talkie back on its harness and gives you a sorry smile.

“That was my boss. My other boss, not your friend who is the boss of this boss. Anyways. I have to go now, duty calls. Are you going to be okay, Miss?”

“I am. Thank you for your kindness.”

“Anytime, Miss. Uhm, have a good day”, he says and leaves with a wave of his hand. He waves again as he drives off. You retort it, staring at his car until it disappears behind a corner. You sigh deeply. He is so nice. Why someone like him? Why does this life always find people like him?

It’s been ten weeks since you left him. You read somewhere that walks are good for your mental health. You still can’t agree. Walks force you to be outside where people are still loud and still fucking stink. But it’s better than staying in your apartment. You’ve got new neighbours since Monday. They keep fucking like actual animals. They fucked when you left your place tonight. You were this close to kicking their door in and slaughtering them like pigs. You opted for a walk in the end.

You walk for a while then sit down by an empty bench next to the river. It is quiet. Nobody is really here. At least nobody important. A couple, how disgusting. A late night jogger, clearly a man. A homeless person, who uses another bench as their bed. You hate looking at homeless people because you feel helpless seeing them. You stopped being on the bright side of the law because of people like them. You thought that maybe if you stole from the corrupt men in power often enough, you would be able to help the ones who truly needed it. But you never managed to actually achieve anything. The homelessness in the city grows, while the pockets of the politicians become fatter and fatter in wealth. You fucking hate this city. It is rotten to the core.

“Look who we have here. If that isn’t our pretty little Hyacinth.”

You aren’t quick enough to get up to leave and then you already have two men throwing their arms over your shoulders while a third is grabbing the back of your head from behind. You try to reach for your knife but can’t. Their grip on you is too good.

“What are you doing here all alone?”

Their voices are familiar and one look at them confirms your suspicions. It’s them. The same three underlings who stole your groceries months ago.

“Leave me alone”, you tell them.

“Why should we? You are all alone. If the boss knew we’re leaving you alone, he’d grow angry.”

“I can take care of myself.”

“Now, now don’t be like that. You’re just a girl and there are many dangerous men out there.”

You look to your side. One of them is licking their lips like a hungry animal.

“Yeah? And you’re being fucking inappropriate. Leave me alone”, you spit, shaking off their arms.

They let you. Just as they let you stand up and take your bag.

“Goodnight”, you tell them and leave. Quickly. You walk a good hundred feet until you finally dare to look over your shoulder only to realise in horror that they are following you. Quickly.

You can defend yourself. You know how to kill, but you also know when you are outnumbered. And three bigger men against a woman is sadly never going to end well for the woman. You hate this city and you hate this life. You know that their words were nothing but provocation. They know you aren’t with Yoongi anymore, that you aren’t under his protection anymore and that in some weird way, you sullied his honour. You also know how people who bring dishonour to the gangs of this city are punished. The men are murdered and the women, well, they are murdered too but not before being sullied themselves. You hate this city and you hate this life. This life which is going to fucking end for you soon.

You dare to look over your shoulder one more time. They are so close that you can see the hunger in their eyes. No. Nononononono. It can’t end like this. You were supposed to leave this city, start a new life, forget about Yoongi. You are not going to die here in this dirty, shitty park far away from your dream.

Thump.

You bounce back from the impact, letting out a blood curling scream. It was instinct. Just as it is instinct of the person you ran into to grasp you by your arms and pull you closer again.

“Let me go! Help! Help me!”

“Quiet”, the person hisses and shakes you. This voice sounded different. Familiar in an almost intimate way.

You dare to shift your eyes to them.

Yoongi.

“I, I, I”, you stutter, feeling delirious in both fear and shock. You grab his shirt, twisting it to get closer to him. The act is intimate and out-of-place but you are too frightened to think clearly. 

Yoongi brushes over the state of your glassy eyes to look over your shoulder. There are three men suddenly scurrying away, using the darkness to hide. He managed to get their faces.

He looks back at you. Your eyes meet. A little bit of clarity returns to you. What are you doing? Your fingers soften around his shirt. 

“I don’t…”

“Come on, we’re going home”, he say sternly and puts an arm around your waist, dragging you with him like this.

You follow him all the way to his car. You even let him sit you down on the passenger seat and you even stay seated when he rounds the car to get to the driver side. You think that you are in shock because you don’t protest when he starts the car, nor when he drives off. You simply stare outside with your knees turned to him because your body acts against your consciousness. The city passes you by in flashes of neon colours. His car smells like his cologne and leather. He has no music playing. 

Yoongi glances at your face. You have your head against the window, squeezing your hands between your thighs. The neon lights illuminate your features each time he passes by another light source. He can see that you are trying not to shake.

He takes a deep breath, shifting his eyes to the road. He has to grip the steering wheel, otherwise his hands would shake in anger.

“Should we get dinner?”

His voice rips you from whatever trance you were in. You sit up straight, looking at him. He is gripping the steering wheel to the point his knuckles pale. His long hair is hanging into his face tonight. A turquoise varsity jacket adorns him. His scar wasn’t hidden behind concealer. He wasn’t working his day job today. What was he doing at the park? Why was he there?

“Take me home”, you order him.

“I am.”

“No. Home. Not your place.”

“My place is your home”, he gets out through gritted teeth.

“No, it isn’t. Not anymore.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Did you see what they were doing to me?”

“No.”

You are lost for words for a moment. The tears come afterwards.

“Stop the car.”

Yoongi looks at you because your voice was shaking. He holds his breath at the sight of your tears.

“What?” he makes sure.

“Stop. The. Car. Now.”

He laughs and shakes his head.

You pull the knife out on him. He swerves to the side on instinct, fixing the mistake so vigorously, you and he shake in the small space. You don’t let it affect you, holding the knife against his skin.

“What the fuck are you doing?” he hisses.

“Stop the fucking car or I’ll kill us both”, you spit, holding the knife against his throat.

“Fuck”, he growls and hits the steering wheel. The car rolls to a stop.

“Get out”, you threaten.

“I am. Fuck.”

He follows your orders because you have his life at blade’s end. He still slams the door closed. You leave the car instantly.

“What the fuck were you thinking? You could have killed us both” he tries to scold you, but you silence him.

“I’m talking now”, you roar.

Yoongi closes his mouth because he has never heard you like this before.

“You are such an asshole! Each day I regret the moment I met you! You are the worst thing that ever happened to me!”

Yoongi gulps. 

“I had a life before you. I had dreams and ambitions and, and goals and…a chance. I could have had a good life. I was supposed to use my degree to help people but you ruined everything for me.”

He rounds the car in big steps, coming so close to you that you smell his breath. It smells like chewing gum. 

“You could have achieved something? What exactly did you achieve as a lawyer? Mhm, what did you achieve? This city is fucked.”

“Yes, because you fucked it!” you hit his chest. He doesn’t budge, but also doesn’t stop you. “You fucked it and you fucked me and I hate you for it!”

“Don’t blame me for your decisions. I gave you a chance to leave me back then. You were the one who stayed.”

You inch closer until your lips are almost touching. Yoongi exhales shakily, placing his hand on your hip. 

“And I will regret this decision till the day I die”, you whisper, breaking the closeness.

You slip out of his hold. He follows you in a small stumble and a trembling gasp. 

“I never want to see you again. Are we clear?” you hiss at him.

“Don’t be fucking ridiculous, you don’t want this”, he hisses back at you.

“You’re wrong, I don’t want you. I thought I still did, but I don’t. You don’t care about me, it’s finally so fucking obvious to me. You don’t fucking care.”

“You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“They are terrorising me, Yoongi!” You finally scream. “I wake up to people ringing my doorbell in the middle of the night, I have to keep my phone turned off because the phone calls don’t stop. I keep getting my stuff stolen and, and I thought I was going to be raped tonight! They are terrorising me and you called it not your problem!”

“No, you-”

“I’ve been living in constant fear, our friends don’t even look at me anymore, I haven’t eaten in days and I can’t-”, you stop yourself. He doesn’t even deserve your anger anymore. “-you know what? Fuck this and fuck you. I’m leaving.”

You turn your back to him and leave. 

He says your name and takes your hand. He pulls, tries to turn you to him. But you rip yourself free again.

“Don’t go”, he says.

You don’t listen.

“I’m ordering you to stay”, he sounds desperate, yelling your name, “I am ordering you!” 

He can yell as much as he wants to. You don’t listen to him anymore. The subway station isn’t far. You will make an exception and take it tonight. Even if you hate it. It stinks. Just like the rest of this shitty city.

You are going to leave. Once you are home, you are going to start packing and then you are going to leave. You will call V. You don’t know his real name, but he can change your identity as quickly as others change their socks. You will call V and tell him to have your passport ready the day after tomorrow. You will pay him with the money you have under your pillow and then leave for somewhere clean. Maybe somewhere with lots of mountains. You always heard that the air at these places is breathable.

You call V the same night. He tells you that two days is too short and to wait another week. So you wait. Your bags have been packed. You live out of them in your own place. You don’t leave it. You are scared. With how little Yoongi cared about your situation, you doubt that he told his men to stop. You are scared that if you left again, they would finally go through with what they couldn’t finish back then.

The doorbell rings during a rainy, dark night. You flinch awake to the point where you feel sick to the stomach. The lights are turned on instantly eventhough you know not to do that in such a situation. You can’t think clearly. You just want this to be over. All of it.

You run to the front door because you suddenly feared that it was unlocked. It isn’t, but you can watch someone push an envelope under your door. The shadow blocking the light outside leaves the moment the letter is inside your apartment.

You don’t want to open it at first, staring at it as if someone had planted a bomb in your apartment. Fuck it, if that is how you die then so be it, you think in the end and bend down to pick it up. It feels different in your fingers. Sophisticated. Intimate. The envelope is glued closed as if someone licked the glue stripe and the faint smell of well-known cologne lingers on the paper. You open it with shaky fingers.

A letter. It is heavy and folded once. You open it, gasping when three photographs fall out of it and onto the ground. You don’t know what is on them because they landed on their face side. So you read the letter first.

“It has always been mine as well.”

Written in black ink and a familiar handwriting. This is Yoongi’s writing.

With even shakier hands, you pick up the pictures. You feel sick for a moment, gawking at the cruel pictures with your hand thrown over your mouth. The three men who terrorised you. Their mutilated corpses look back at you. He tortured them to death.

You rip the door open, stumbling onto the balcony. You look down at what tripped you. Two bags of your favourite takeout food and a six pack of water. Both clearly fresh. So it was him. Yoongi must be here somewhere. You look into the distance. The night is loud and blurry in a thunderstorm. The streets are empty. The ghost of your past is gone again. You squint your eyes. A person.

“Yoongi!” you call out, unable to realise that you are smiling and waving your hand.

The person moves. Oh. It was just the shadow of a tree. For just a moment you had hoped that the dark shape was him waiting for you. It was just a tree…and you were happy that if could have been Yoongi. The realisation hurts.

“Fuck”, you press out, going back inside. The lump in your throat makes it hard to breathe. You stumble back to bed, halting for a moment when you pass your suitcases.

It has always been mine as well. His words repeat themselves in your head. All this time, you thought that he didn’t care. All this time, you thought that your terror left him cold. Your eyes drift over the empty takeout boxes from the noodle place. You still haven’t cleaned them up. He made sure that you were properly fed for days back then. A glance at the new stuff he got tonight. He is still making sure that you are. Your eyes drift over the package next. He made sure that they stopped getting stolen. You look at the pictures in your hands. He made sure that they would never hurt you again. All this time, you were so blinded by your own anger that you missed how he had always looked out for you. You missed his way of showing you that you were important to him.

It has always been his problem as well.

Something inside you breaks and you scream. You don’t know what you scream for, but you scream. It hurts so much. It hurts so much because you will still leave. He will hurt you again if you stay. All his efforts healed your heart and it hurts so much because you will still leave. You were meant to stay broken hearted. Leaving would have been so easy this way. Now it hurts like a bitch. But you can’t sway. You have to leave this place. It will chew up what little is left of you until you truly cease to exist.

V comes to your place the next day. He rings your doorbell. It wakes you from the uncomfortable sofa you fell asleep on last night. You groan as you sit up and you barely want to open your eyes as you stumble to the door.

You open it without checking the camera first.

“Took you long en- you?”

Jungkook, the young officer, greets you with a smile.

“I swear I’m not stalking you.”

You have a headache today, so it is difficult not to snap at him. He is also not the person you wanted in front of your door today.

“I’m starting to doubt that.”

He laughs, “it’s not that. I talked to my boss. Your friend, the boss of the other boss. Sorry, anyways. I need you to come to the precinct with me.”

“What? Why?”

“Okay so, this is actually so cool and I shouldn’t even be telling you this, but you’re my boss’ friend so I guess it’s okay”, he begins with sparkling eyes, “turns out that the package thief is actually a serial thief and you aren’t the first one he stole from. Isn’t that cool? It’s like in those movies. Those cool cop movies.”

“Really? He stole from more people?” You highly doubt that.

“Yeah”, he laughs as he answers you, nodding his head excitedly, “now we’re calling in everyone who he stole from so we can take their statements. My boss says that we can’t keep the thief locked up for long otherwise.”

You know that this wasn’t really how the law works. After all, you were once a lawyer who was fucking good at her job. Is Yoongi trying to drag you back to him? First he tries to change your mind by killing your bullies and now he is trying to do the final blow by abusing his power as police chief? You check the time. Couldn’t the young officer have come later? You could have had your passport already and be far, far away from this place.

“Can I just give it to you here?” you ask him.

“Mhm”, he tilts his head to the side, “no, I don’t think that it works like this. I’m sorry, Miss. The captain said that it’s important that all the victims come into the precinct.”

You have to give Yoongi that. He is real clever about it. That means however that you can’t escape this situation. Any more resistance from you would make you suspicious.

You give up with a sigh. “Can I just change into something different?”

“Of course, Miss.”

The young officer lets you sit in the passenger seat. He is so new at all of this. With such naivety he tells you his entire life story. That he was from the countryside and that his dream has always been to be a policeman in the city. That he studied hard for years and that he completed his enlistment with honour just so he could be a proper officer. He sounds so proud of himself that each second with him makes you hate his presence more and more. He is so fucking stupid and it angers you. Why would he throw away his life like that? Why someone like him?

You are led to one of the precinct’s interrogation rooms and are told to wait there. The table is decked with different foods.

“What’s all that?” you ask Jungkook.

“Breakfast, Miss.”

“Did your captain tell you to do that?”

“He said that wanted to make sure you get your breakfast because we called you in so early. The captain really cares for the citizens.”

You stifle a scoff. Sure he does.

“Mhm, I see.”

“Either way, it won’t take long”, the young officer bids his goodbyes and leaves you in the interrogation room.

His words were a lie. You wait and wait and wait, but nothing happens. There are no clocks in this godforsaken room, but you still know that it has to be hours. You didn’t want to eat the breakfast at first, glaring at the two-way mirror because in your mind, Yoongi was behind it, watching you and making sure that you ate. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction at first, but had to in the end. The body begins working against one’s will when it is starving and the breakfast looked way too good. You eat all of it, then glare at the mirror again. You are still left alone and more time passes. It is as if they are trying to wear you down, as if you were the criminal in this situation. Granted, you are a criminal, but only Yoongi knows that and right now you are a poor civilian having done nothing wrong. You know that it’s Yoongi’s doing. That he somehow wants to terrorise you.

So when the door finally opens and he walks into the room, you almost throw the empty bowl at his head.

“Forgive the wait, Miss but something came up”, he says nonchalantly, flicking through some papers.

His second in command Kim Namjoon and the young officer Jeon Jungkook are behind him, which is why he is putting up this act. You grind your teeth.

“I already started to wonder if I’m in danger here”, you say way too sweetly.

“That depends on how you are going to answer our questions”, he says and sits down on the chair in front of you.

Jungkook stays by the door while Kim Namjoon stands a little to your side.

You look around yourself. He is trying to intimidate you.

“What’s that supposed to mean? I thought that I’m here to give my statement because of my stolen packages.”

Yoongi glances up from the papers. This is the first time your eyes meet after your fight and he killed your bullies. If only the others in this room would know how much blood he has on his hands and to which length he is willing to go to protect you. There were times where you would have dragged him over the table and kissed him senseless, but not anymore. You are stronger than your urges, even if it hurts your heart. You can’t give in again. If you do, he will take you for granted again. You won’t be happy with him. You finally have to fucking understand that.

“You’re right. You are here because of that”, he says dryly.

“Good. It started on May sixteen. I came home at around seven ten and noticed that my packages were missing. Two were stolen back then, but in total he stole eight packages”, you say and proceed to tell him the exact dates with the time as well as what was stolen.  

“You seem to know how such hearings work”, he says after he wrote down what you said.

“I had a few hours to practice what I was going to say”, you say with a poisonous smile.

One Yoongi retorts with just as much poison and a deep hum.

“Apologies again.”

“Don’t worry, I know how hard the police works at keeping this honourable city safe.”

He tongues his cheek. You give him a victorious smirk. This cut. Good. He takes a deep breath and releases it through his nose, reaching into his suit pocket to pull out a cigarette. He gets as far as to put it to his lips and then Kim Namjoon already speaks up.

“Captain. Smoking is prohibited in this building.”

“Fuck”, Yoongi presses out and takes the cigarette between two fingers to tap it against the table instead.

“Smoking is bad for you either way”, you say.

He tongues his cheek again. You know that he wants to curse at you right now, but can’t. He has to put up a friendly act.

“I know, can’t shake the habit”, he says and studies your face, “so what now?”

“Sir?” Kim Namjoon is rightfully confused. Yoongi slipped up.

“I don’t know, I was never in such a place before. Do you still need to take my information?” you act oblivious.

“We already have everything.”

“Great. Then I can go?” you ask, fluttering your lashes innocently.

“I don’t know yet.”

“Sir?” “What? Why?”

Yoongi shifts in his chair until he manspreads like an idiot. He crosses his arms in front of his chest.

“What are you going to do now?” he asks you.

“Uhm…is this still part of my hearing?” you ask, glancing at Kim Namjoon.

“No of course not, Miss. Please, follow me.”

“Sit. Down.”

The room is silent for a moment. You glare at Yoongi while Namjoon and Jungkook gawk in complete confusion. Their captain acts out of character. There is no reason to keep the innocent lady here any longer. This isn’t like him at all. He has been fidgeting all day, barely drank his coffee, went for far too many smoke breaks and now this. The officers have no explanation for their captain’s sudden behaviour.

“What is the reason for this?” you ask him.

“Just safety precautions. We wouldn’t want our honest citizen to get into danger”, he says coldly, “now answer my question. What are your plans now, Miss?”

“I will go home.”

“Where is that home?”

“Sir, I don’t know if that is necessary.”

“Shut up, Kim.”

Namjoon gulps, exchanging a confused look with Jeon Jungkook. This is really not like their captain.

Yoongi straightens up and leans forward so he is closer to you.

“Where is that home, Miss?”

You lower your eyes in anger.

“I don’t know yet, I’m planning to leave this city.”

“What?” his voice shook as he spoke. His fingers close and break the cigarette that way. His eyes almost bore holes into yours from how deeply he stares into them.

“This city’s become too depressing for me. I plan on leaving it for good.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“Yes, I do. There is nothing holding me here anymore.”

“Yes, there is.”

“No, there really isn’t. I will leave.”

Bang!

You flinched back. Namjoon and Jungkook tense up as well.

Yoongi slammed his hand on the table, jumping to his feet.

“No the fuck you won’t!” he yells.

“Sir? What are you doing?!”

“Excuse me? It’s my right as an honest citizen to move”, you act oblivious as well.

“Keep her here”, he talks to Jungkook, pointing at him, “lock her up and keep her here.”

“Under what pretence, Sir?” the young officer asks with widened eyes.

“I, I, I don’t know. Refusal to, to, to cooperate or some shit like that”, Yoongi never stutters and he never paces, but he is currently doing both of those things.

“Sir…is…this legal?” Jungkook asks shyly.

Yoongi is by Jungkook’s side within a few steps, grabbing him by the collar.

“Do as you are told, Jeon! Unless you want to lose this job!” Yoongi growls, making Jungkook whimper with fear.

“Captain Min, you are stepping out of place”, Kim Namjoon speaks up, dragging him away from Jungkook, “and get off this poor officer’s neck. He is just doing his job.”

Yoongi whips around, now targeting his anger at Namjoon.

“If he was doing his fucking job, he would lock her up”, he hisses, pointing at you.

“I need you to step out for a moment, Captain”, Namjoon says and gestures Jungkook to open the door. The young officer obeys, holding it open as Namjoon shoves a protesting Yoongi out of the room. He closes the door again, muting the vivid fighting Yoongi was doing with Namjoon outside.

He meets your eyes, smiling awkwardly.

“Please forgive the Captain, Miss. He is very concerned about his citizens’ safety.” He is a terrible liar, but you don’t blame him. If you were in his situation, you would have no idea how to explain such a situation to a supposed innocent citizen either.

“Don’t worry. I, I’m just wondering if maybe I can finally leave? I’m sorry, this just really scared me and I just want to lie down at home now”, you act shaken up, looking at the young officer with pleading eyes. 

“Of course, Miss. Our honest apologies again, Miss. Please follow me”, he says and leads you out of the room.

Yoongi and Namjoon are still arguing, but stop when they see you come out. You lock eyes with Yoongi for the briefest of moments. 

He closes the distance and grabs your wrist, dragging you with him with such vigour that nobody truly gets time to act. Not even you know what was happening to you until you find yourself in his office with the door slammed shut. 

“What are you doing?” you gasp.

“Shut the fuck up, you’re not the one asking this question right now!”

“Yoongi, lower your voice. This isn’t the place for screams.”

He steps closer to you, pointing at your face in warning.

“I have every fucking right to scream right now and you know that”, he presses out through gritted teeth.

“Why? Because I finally don’t need you anymore?”

“You can’t move. What the fuck are you thinking?”

“I’m-”

‘I'm not done”, he interrupts you, “I killed them for you. I did it. Just for you. Because your safety matters to me. I care.” He hits his own chest. “I showed you that I care and you’re gonna leave?”

You hate that you love him, but not for the usual reasons. You hate it because it hurts. You are going to leave despite not wanting to. You love him, perhaps you always will but you are also going to leave. 

You nod your head.

Yoongi exhales shakily, taking a stumbling step back. He stares at you as if you were the ghost whose haunting hurts him the most. He huffs out air, rubs his hand over his mouth, then runs it through his hair and down the side of his neck.

“I’ll kill the thief”, he says in the end.

“What?” 

“I'll make it seem like suicide. He’ll look like a pisser who couldn’t take prison and killed himself.”

“Are you out of your mind? He’s just a thief.”

“Well, what more do you need?!” he screams

“Nothing! I don’t need anything from you!”

“Why not? I can give you whatever you want!”

“Look at you. Now that you finally realised, I’m actually serious about the breakup, you wanna act like you care.”

“I care”, his voice broke, but you are both too angry to acknowledge it, “i-i-if I knew that you- I just-” He breathes in, breathes out, rubs his mouth, then his neck. “It can’t end like this. It can’t.”

“It can. I’m done begging you for everything.”

Yoongi steps closer.

“I can-”

“Sir? What is the meaning of this?” 

Kim Namjoon and Jeon Jungkook are in the office. The rest of the precinct gawks at you and Yoongi through the doorway. The latter lifts his hands and steps back. His fingers are shaking. 

“The captain just voiced his worries for my move. Don’t worry about it, Kim Sir”, you lie and turn to leave, “may I finally leave?”

Namjoon tells Jungkook to handle it with a nod of his head. The young officer points at the open door.

“Please after you, Miss.”

Yoongi says your name. 

You look at him over your shoulder, despite knowing you shouldn’t. He takes a step closer, lifting his brows in pleading. Don’t give in. Don’t give in. Don’t give in. You ball your hands to fists and turn your back to him.

Yoongi tries your name again, hoping for another look. One which doesn’t come. 

“Come back”, he tries, but gets stopped by Namjoon.

You can hear them talk as you leave.

“What the fuck’s your issue, man? You’ve been weird all day and now you’re screaming at citizens?”

“Watch your tone.”

“Hyung, I’m not here as your colleague right now. I’m here as your friend.”

“She’s gonna leave, she can’t…”

Jungkook leads you away from the office before you can hear Yoongi’s full answer. 

“Are you crying, Miss??”

“Hm? Oh that, don’t mind them. It’s just…” Your heart is broken and you want to run back to Yoongi. “...forgive me, I’m just a little shaken from everything.”

“I’m sorry, Miss. The captain isn’t normally like this.”

“It’s alright. I know how Yoongi can be sometimes.”

“Yoongi?” Jungkook asks, glancing at the captain’s office. He wonders what kind of friends you and he are. Maybe Those kind of friends? Is that why you are important to the captain? 

“I mean…sorry, I don’t know why I said that. I just wish to go home now.”

“Of course, Miss.”

“Oh god, I don’t even have money for a bus ticket with me”, you murmur to yourself, looking for your wallet. This is all a scheme to get Jungkook to drive you home again. You are worried that if he didn’t, Yoongi would somehow get to you before you could reach the station.

“Don’t worry about it, Miss. As a policeman, it is my duty to make sure that you get home safely.”

“Really? I wouldn’t want to waste your time.”

“Of course, Miss.”

And so he takes you home and you hate yourself because of it. So it began. You were the first person who used his kindness to her advantage. You were the drop beginning the inevitable filling of the tank until one day it will swap over. And once that happens, it is almost impossible to stop the leak. Fuck, you are just as terrible as everyone else in this city.

But the young officer is oblivious to what you just did, driving you home with a kind smile on his face. He even walks you to your door and stays as you unlock it. Your neighbours are fucking again. He glances at their door, then awkwardly at you.

“Yeah, I’ve got new neighbours. You can’t go over there and flash your badge and tell them to shut up, can you?”

“Of course I can, Miss. Just one mom-”

“No stop, I was joking”, you stop him, studying him with exhausted eyes. You are so sorry. You are so fucking sorry.

“Ah, okay. Please forgive me, I always take everything way too seriously”, he says, scratching his own neck shyly. He furrows his brows. “What’s the matter, Miss?”

“Can I tell you something?”

“Of course, Miss.”

“Run.”

“What?”

“Run back to your hometown. Run and never look back.”

“Excuse me?” he laughs in confusion, furrowing his brows harder.

“You’re a good person, Jeon Jungkook. This city will fucking ruin you.”

“I…uh…” He laughs nervously. “I don’t seem to follow, Miss. Sorry.”

“You don’t need to get it, just listen to me. Please.”

“O…kay? I uhm…”

“Thank you for driving me home. I’ll think of you sometimes in my new home.”

“Miss, are you okay?”

“I am. You don’t need to worry about me anymore. Just promise me to run.”

“I promise?”

“Good. Be happy, Jeon Jungkook.”

“Miss, I-”

You close the door on him and lock it. You don’t expect him to knock or ring the bell. He is too proper to annoy you this way. You check the camera. He stares at the closed door for a few moments longer, looking confused. He lifts his hand to knock, hesitates and turns his back to the door instead, leaving down the steps to drive off. You know that you confused him, but you had to. Please let it be enough to save him.

V arrives later that day. He is stressed and clearly in a hurry.

“What’s wrong? You look like you need to be somewhere or like you need to shit. Do you need to shit?”

“What? No”, he sounds out of breath as well as annoyed, “I’m risking my ass being here. I’ve got your stuff. It’s the only thing except mine that I managed to save. Give me the money, quick.”

“Save?” you probe, giving him the money.

He stuffs it into his boxers hastily, looking over his shoulder again.

“My place got raided by cops. I was at the market getting food, then came back to five cop cars in front of my place. I barely escaped. If I didn’t always carry my stuff with me, I’d have been fucked.”

“What?!”

“Sorry, Hyacinth. Gotta leave the city for a while. I wish you all the best.”

“V, what the fuck?”

“Here’s to never seeing each other again, aye?” he jokes, laughing nervously. It’s a good thing he said. Never seeing each other again meant that you and he managed to escape safely.

“Wait. Where will you go?”

“I can’t tell you. You know I can’t.”

“Yeah, just…be careful.”

“You too.”

He leaves and you know that he will be successful. If there is one person who won’t ever be found it is V. 

You are in a trance for the rest of the day. Yoongi raided V’s place. He went as far as to betray his own people just to make sure that you wouldn’t leave. Carrying your new passport feels like a trophy, as much as it feels like a curse. Leaving this city won’t be as easy anymore now that he knows. You are so fucking stupid for telling him, but you didn’t want to miss out on his reaction when he found out. The small moment of satisfaction seems skippable now that you know how far he is willing to go to keep you close. And because V came as late as he did, your means of escape don’t drive anymore either. You have to wait for the earliest bus if you wanted to or not. Fuck, you did this to yourself. You stupid fucking woman. Look at you. You have this big, honourable degree and still manage to get yourself into shitty situations over and over again.

You go to sleep with a gun under your pillow. You won’t risk anything.

You don’t get a lot of sleep and then a noise wakes you. You heard it as clear as day. Someone unlocked your front door. He sent men to get you. Now he’s gone too far. You jump out of bed and grab your loaded gun, tiptoeing to a spot from where you could observe the apartment. You have to be strategic about it. First count the men, then calculate the fastest way to shoot them, then act. The door closes and locks again. Clever bastards, they want to make sure that you don’t flee. Oh, you are going to have a blast killing them. One last little thing to leave Yoongi before you abandon him.

The automatic lights turn on. Got you, assholes.

The first enters your vision.

“Hm?”

Yoongi. Clearly drunk, he is dragging his feet over the floor, using the wall as support. No one else follows him. So he came here alone. 

Overtaken by anger, you jump out of hiding and at him.

Yoongi collides with the wall, feeling the cold nuzzle of the gun press against his chin. He drops the keys and flowers he was carrying, lifting his hands in defeat.

“Careful, it’s just me”, he lulls.

“Get the fuck out of my house”, you spit, carrying murder in your eyes. 

“I can’t believe you’re still hiding your keys under the flower pot. Don’t make me so worried, anyone could enter.”

“I’m gonna count to three and if you haven’t disappeared by then, I’ll shoot.”

“Can we talk?”

“One.”

“I know I fucked up. I can’t stop thinking about you. Please, can we try again?”

“Two.”

“I promise I changed. You were right, I was a joke. But I wanna do better now.”

“Three.” “I’m sorry!”

Yoongi squeezes his eyes shut. His death never comes. He peels his eyes open again.

You are staring, panting heavily. Tears are in your eyes.

“I’m sorry”, he whispers.

This is the first time he is the one to say these words first. It feels so good, but you can’t give in again. You made up your mind to leave…didn’t you? You study the state of him. He is heavily intoxicated. He looks the way and reeks of it.

“You’re drunk.” 

He nods his head, furrowing his brows. He touches your elbows, caressing them softly. Such touch you only get when he is drunk.

“I drank because of you. What you said today. I just…don’t move away, please”, he begs, eyes filling with tears.

“So now you care? I wasn’t important to you when I was with you and now that I’m leaving, I’m suddenly important?”

“You’ve always been important.”

“No, I haven’t. You took me for granted.”

“I did and I’m sorry. I never should have taken you for granted. I’ll do better now, please just give me a chance to prove it to you.”

“If I give you a chance again, you’ll just abuse it and hurt me.”

“No, I won’t. Please, I just.” He cups your face, running his thumbs under your eyes as gently as possible. “We were right once. We were so good together. We were a team and, and we had dreams and we made each other happy. I want this back, I wanna try to get this back again please.”

“I just want to be happy, Yoongi”, you press out.

“I’ll make you happy, baby. Please, I-I’ll make you happy again.”

“No, you’re drunk and talking fucking shit.”

“I’ll leave this city if you want me to.”

You falter. He would give up what he built just for you?

“You wouldn’t do that.”

“I would. For you I would. I’d set this whole city on fire and leave with you as it burns to fucking ashes behind us, please.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“Please”, he whispers and drops his forehead against yours, “please, I want to make you happy again.”

You hate that you love him. You hate that he made you addicted to him. This is so awfully him. He gives you enough affection that you get addicted to it then takes it away again. And once he feeds it to you again, you drink it up like an alcoholic. It is always the same. 

“No, you won’t. You’re drunk.”

“Please.”

“Leave my place.”

He presses himself off the wall and grabs the nuzzle of the gun, guiding it right between his brows.

“You have to kill me if you want me gone.”

You gulp. He forces your finger to the trigger. Your airways close up.

“Kill me. Fucking kill me. I can’t live without you anyways.”

You could end it. You’ve got everything. Your suitcases, your papers, the keys of his car he drunkenly drove like an asshole. You’ve got everything you need to escape this place. You could end it, finally make sure that you have no temptation to return. You could end him and your addiction with it. He’s got your finger on the trigger, it needs just one flex and it would be over. But you never wanted him dead. No matter how much you wished for him to be gone, you never wanted him dead. Because in some fucked up way, all you really wanted was for him to put more effort into you.

“No”, you whimper, shaking your head. 

He rips the gun from your fingers and drops it on your dresser. 

“I don’t want to kill you”, you press out, sobbing softly. 

He cradles your face, wiping your tears. 

“I know”, he gets out, nodding his head, “I know you don’t, princess. I know.”

“Yoongi”, you squeak out, twisting his shirt. 

“I’m here, princess. I’m here.”

He pulls you closer until his kiss is just one breath away, feeding on the shaky breath you let ghost against his lips. His drunken eyes gaze at your mouth, his heart is racing in his chest.

“Push me away”, he tells you.

“I hate you.”

“And I love you.”

“Yoongi”, you whimper, finally touching his chest instead of his shirt. 

He moans and pulls you into a kiss. A deep, hungry kiss. 

You pull at his hair to get him off of you as much as you pull him closer, fighting for air. You hate that you love…do you really? Do you really fucking hate it? Do you really hate it when his kiss makes you feel alive again? You spent months feeling out of breath and now it’s gone. You can breathe again. At least metaphorically, physically he’s got you very close to passing out. You push at him to get distance. Air. He lets you breathe, but not escape. He pushes you to your sofa until your legs collide with the back of it. Your shaky breaths intermingle, your shared moans follow. His right hand slides to your ass, his knee lifts to your middle. 

You gasp, grinding down on him. You can’t protest because he kisses you so deeply it feels as if he wanted to consume your soul. He kisses and gropes, kisses and gropes until air is sparse. He gasps.

“Fuck. Fuck, I’m fucked”, he gets out and pulls your head back so he could drag his tongue up your throat. 

It should disgust you, but it doesn’t. You moan, running your nails down his chest and arching your back. He lifts his head, looking at you with drunken, crazed obsession. His fingers just can’t stay still on your body. It is as if he wanted to touch everywhere at all times. The attention makes you short of breath.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.”

You touch his cheek. He leans into your palm, closing his eyes when you trace his scar. You were with him when he got it. It was during a fight. He fought with his fists, his opponent chose the cowardly way and pulled a knife on him. He was lucky that he didn’t lose his eyesight. He hated it at first, but you made him feel handsome. You always looked out for him that way.

“Do you…do you think I’m handsome?” he asks. Such questions you only get when he’s drunk. 

“I do.”

His breath trembles as it leaves him. He drops his hand from your hips to take out his cock. He touches himself, gazing at you as if he needed the view of you to stay hard. And he does. He needs you. You are the only person who can turn him on.

You look at what his hand is doing, gulping heavily. He sighs, gazing at your face. You are as mesmerised by him as you were when everything was still good between you and him. His cock still has the same effect on you.

“Princess?” he tilts your head back up to meet your eyes, using only two fingers under your chin for it. 

You meet his eyes, heart racing unbearably.

“Yes?” One little lift of his brows and you give him the answer he craved. 

You part your legs, tilting your hips closer to him. You nod your head vigorously, gazing at his cock again.

He doesn’t bother to pull his pants down all the way, neither does he care about taking off your panties. He pushes them to the side and stuffs you full of him, gripping the edge of the couch and your right thigh as deep moans leave him. Your right leg is lifted like this, supported by him.

You gasp, tensing up. Your toes curl instantly, your fingers clutch his lower arms. His cock stretches you out and stuffs your walls. It’s not uncomfortable, but it is definitely intense. You gasp again, looking at him with widened eyes.

“I know baby, I know”, he breathes and bottoms out. “It’s been too long. Fuck.” 

He moves, chasing your warmth in drunk, sloppy thrusts. You writhe and gasp repeatedly, scratching the back of his neck. You want to hate that you love him. He should feel like an intruder. You should want to kick and scream for help. But you don’t want to. You feel whole again. No preparation, but he doesn’t hurt. His kiss and touch was enough. Your addiction to him runs so deep that his cock is pure heroin to you.

“Yoongi”, you get out, grabbing his throat. Your thumbs are on his Adam’s apple, threatening to press down.

He smiles, “I love you”, he gasps out and drops his head against yours. His long hair tickles your face, his drunken breath swirls over your skin. He gulps and moans under your fingers, pumping into you with no signs of slowing down. You start losing strength in your calf, standing like this is exhausting, but if you were being honest, you don’t want it to stop. 

“I hate you.”

“Fucking kill me then”, he rasps.

You close your fingers slightly.

“Harder. This isn’t gonna do it.”

“You first.”

“Fuck, baby”, he gets out and lifts you so he could round the sofa with you. He pins you down into the pillows, ripping the panties off of you and kicking his pants off. He pushes into you before you can truly realise what was happening, feeding you all of him until he can’t give any more. He twists the pillow next to your head as he takes on a punishing rhythm. His dark hair hangs into his face, his teeth are bared as he huffs like an angry animal.

“Yoon-”

“I know, baby I know. You already told me, baby. I know”, he whispers, wiping your cheek, “take me, I know you can. You’re my baby, you’re made for me.”

His praise is like medicine to you. This is all you needed. To know that he is still obsessed with you and that you still affect him. 

You close your legs around his hips, keeping him with you this way. You need him to always stay like this. He moans your name, slipping his fingers from your cheek to hold the pillow instead. You told him that you hated him, but your body betrays you. Your eyes betray you. You keep him close, gaze at him as if he was your everything. Yoongi’s head is turning. Not only from the alcohol, but also from being with you again. And from knowing that you still loved him.

Because he loves you so much. He hates himself for taking you for granted. He never should have. You are his everything. The fucking reason why he does all of this. The last three months were torture for him. He started smoking again, drank too much, slept too little, worked too many hours. And if he didn't distract himself with work, he tried thinking up ways of showing you that he was still there for you. He ordered his officers to look out for you, sent food deliveries to your place, parked in front of your place somewhere hidden to watch you smoke on the staircase. He also followed you sometimes after you confessed to him that some of his goons were terrorising you. And each time he followed you, he wished for you to notice him just so he could get a chance at talking to you again. But you never did and Yoongi thought that you will come back again soon. Then you told him that you would move and Yoongi finally broke. He was truly losing you. Three months of hell, of lonely nights and heartbreak and he was truly losing you. 

“I missed you”, he gets out, painting his name against your favourite spots. The eagerness with which you clasp him results in your hips to lift off the pillow, allowing your clit to grind against him each time he bottoms out. The necklaces he is wearing are tangling over your face. They were too long once, but Yoongi cut them to the perfect length so they wouldn't hit your face when you are underneath him. That was six months ago. During a time you thought he didn’t care anymore. You feel so stupid now. His way of showing you that he cared was always there. He was always looking out for you. You were just too blind to see. 

You gasp and whimper, mewl and keen, looking up at him with teary eyes and your fingers closing around nothing. You can’t tell him that you missed him too because you are too overwhelmed. 

“Did you miss me too?” but Yoongi is drunk tonight and when he is drunk he is needy for your affection. 

You nod your head. 

“Say it.”

“I missed you”, you get out, following it up with a sob. 

“Baby, I love you”, he croaks, wiping your tears before dropping his forehead against yours, “I love you, baby, I love you. Don’t leave me again, please.”

“You’re so drunk.”

“Yeah, drunk ‘cause of you. Thought I’ll lose you. Baby, I can’t lose you”, he croaks and shows you his honesty with passionate rolls of his hips. Somehow he goes even deeper than before, he hits your favourite spots even better. 

You arch your back and scream his name, throwing your head back as best as possible. This is electric. Holy shit, he makes you feel good. Your face scrunches up against your will, your feet shake on his back. 

Yoongi admires you with a pounding head and racing heart, repeating what he did before over and over and over again. You react in mewls and moans and screams and he can’t get enough of it. He wants for you to lose your fucking voice because you couldn’t stop screaming for him. Because if you sound like this for him, he makes you happy. It has been too long since you actually screamed this way, so Yoongi is especially affected by tonight.

He laces his fingers with yours – again, he is drunk – and squeezes them needily. He thinks that he is crying too. He watches pearls of something drip onto your face sometimes. His eyes also burn. He doesn’t want it to stop. He is willing to carry his emotions on his sleeve if it meant you were happy again.

“Is this what you needed? Does this finally make you fucking happy?” he gets out, chasing the ecstasy as much as he helps you with your own pleasure trip.

You squeeze his hands back, making him moan your name.

“Ye-yes.”

“Argh”, he growls, trying so much harder to fuck you right. It feels so good. He has to tell you. He stayed silent way too often in the past. You want his efforts and he wants to give them to you. “You feel so good.”

The first confession was hard because he isn’t used to sharing his feelings. It was hard, but it was also ecstatic because your sounds of pleasure became louder and you tightened around him, squeezing his hands happily. 

“You feel so good. You feel so fucking good. You feel so good, princess. You feel…so good”, he can’t stop now that he started, telling you over and over and over again how you make him feel. Good. So good. He feels so good when he is with you. “You are so good. Princess, fuck. I have to..I, I have to- ah!” 

You open your eyes in time with Yoongi collapsing on top of you. He whimpers into the crook of your neck, shaking almost pathetically.

There are two things you always believed to be true about Yoongi. First: When he fucks, his moans are always deep, raspy and growly. Second: He has perfect control over his orgasms. 

Both of these things are getting proven wrong to you right here and now as he whimpers and shakes and paints your walls with his unexpected orgasm. You want to blame the alcohol on it and maybe the months of abstinence, perhaps even the fear of losing you paired with the relief of having you again. Holy fuck, he actually loves you doesn’t he?

“I love you”,  he sobs, hugging you close. 

“Yoongi ah”, he breaks you with his confession and the tenderness with which he holds you. You swear that you can taste colours for a moment. You haven’t felt honestly good in your own skin in months. This right here is what feeling good is. This is it. 

You don’t know who comes down first. You think it is Yoongi, but even if he does, he doesn’t pull out. He lets you shake and throb and clench around him until your moment of peak pleasure is over as well. He holds you silently afterwards, catching his breath in the crook of your neck. He missed your scent like nothing else. Truly, it leaves him so drugged out that he actually finds himself drooling as he smiles like a giddy boy. 

You calm down with his weight atop your chest, his length still inside you and his hair between your fingers. It is still a little stiff and crusty from the variety of hair products he keeps in it during his day job. To think that mere hours ago, you were screaming at each other in his office. It feels so far away to you now. Like a memory of an unbelievable life.

You don’t hate that you love him. You really don’t. 

“How.” He clears his throat. “How are you feeling?”

“Good.”

“Are you sore? Does anything hurt?”

“No, but I’m leaking.”

“Fuck”, he laughs into your shoulder, nibbling on it gently, “sorry, I just…am drunk and missed you.”

“You were pathetic doing that.”

He laughs harder. You and he have a peculiar sense of humour. He knows that you meant it fondly. You laugh as well. He lifts his head at the sound of it, cupping your cheek. 

“If it means you’re laughing, I can live with being pathetic.”

Your heart flutters.

“What’s gotten into you?”

“Booze. Way too much booze.”

You laugh again. His eyes soften, he caresses your face. 

“Definitely too much booze, yeah”, you agree.

“Mhm, fuck.” He cuddles into your shoulder again. “I’m sleeping here.”

“And you think I’d let you?”

He nods his head.

“Fuck, you’re the worst.”

“Am I wrong?”

“No, you’re not.”

You wake up alone the next morning. It hurts. So nothing changed. He got what he wanted, made you addicted again only to leave. Like he always did. And you are left feeling dirty and used and fucking awful. 

You probably would have stayed in bed to cry the entire day if a very worrying noise hadn’t come from outside your door. Someone’s in your kitchen. You roll out of bed and leave the room. You don’t need weapons today. You are angry enough that you will probably be able to beat whoever is dumb enough to break in. 

You cross the corner and stop, lowering your fists.

Yoongi. 

He took a shower and tied all of his wet hair into a messy bun. He is shirtless, wearing a towel around his hips. Music is playing from his phone while on the stove, breakfast is sizzling. 

“You?”

He turns at the sound of your voice, face lighting up instantly. 

“Good morning, beautiful”, he says, closing the distance to take you into a hug. “Did you sleep well?”

You don’t answer him, you push at his chest so you could look at him. You can’t believe that he is still here and that he is making you breakfast.

“What’s the matter?” he asks. 

“Why the fuck are you still here?”

He furrows his brows, “why not?”

“I, I don’t know. I just, just. I thought that…huh? You didn’t leave?”

He frowns in regret for a moment, before leaning in to kiss your cheek. He gives your left buttock an almost playful squeeze afterwards, stepping back to return to the cooking.

“I’m making your favourite. I also cleaned. Your place was a shithole, honestly.”

Still flabbergasted beyond relief, you look around your small apartment. He didn’t just clean up the garbage and tidy, he fully wiped the place down. You check the clock next. It’s way past one at noon. You slept for more than twelve hours. Damn. You never even realised how much sleep these last three months took from you until you finally fell asleep in his arms again and actually stayed asleep. You feel refreshed and not uncomfortable in your own skin. 

Last, you look at Yoongi. He is humming to the music, switching between stirring the eggs in the pan and chopping up some pork belly. 

At first you don’t want to accept that this is actually happening to you, but then the desire to be close to him gets too grande to bear. You almost run to him, colliding with his back in a passionate hug. 

He stumbles and grunts, following it up with a fond chuckle and his big hands rubbing your lower arms. 

“Please don’t make me regret this again. Please.”

He turns in your arms, caressing your waist. He shakes his head, looking at you in ways he hasn’t looked at you in ages. As if he honestly loved you. 

“Can you promise me?”

“I promise you, baby”, he says in a soft voice and locks pinkies with you. 

The gesture is so cute and honest, that you have to stifle a giggle. Your heart hasn’t fluttered like this in ages.

“I have an idea. How about I’ll take next week off and we’re leaving this city for a while? Maybe the mountains? You’d like the air there”, he suggests. 

“Are you serious? Do you actually mean that?”

He nods his head. You and he began swaying to the music, looking at nothing else but the other. 

“But first I gotta sort out the mess I made when I busted V’s place”, he says.

“Yeah true.” You slap his chest. “Fuck you for that. He didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I know, I know. I acted irrationally, I admit. But I’m gonna fix this. You know how easily I can make stuff disappear. He’ll be able to return again in a week or so.”

“I hope you’ll fix this, you idiot you.”

“Mhm, I will and then I’m taking you on a long vacation”, he says, kissing your forehead before hugging you against his chest.

You close your eyes, melting into his chest. 

“And when we’re there, I’m gonna make you breakfast and make you cum and make you smile. Yeah?” he whispers.

“Yeah”, you snicker.

He smells like your shower gel today, but you don’t mind. He hasn’t shown such an actual desire to change in months and it feels so good to receive. You love that you love him. You really do. 

“I love you, Yoongi”, you whisper, feeling him squeeze you for just a moment as your confession overwhelms him. 

“I love you too, princess”, he tells you and he is sober for it because he swore to himself that he won’t need alcohol anymore to be able to show you his affection. 

He is willing to better himself, he truly is and a week later, you and he are in his car on your way to a long vacation in the mountains.

[goldenlikedayl1ght]

...ready for it? - j.l. howlett

a/n: hi! here's a full version of a blurb i wrote a few days ago that got so much love so quick that i wanted to give yall a full version! the beginning is literally just the blurb but after that it's all new! like many of you wolverine brainrot has hit me hard, so here's graphic smut about him. leave a comment or a reblog if you enjoyed :) warnings: SMUT!!!!! some dumbification, use of pet names, reader is fem, reader is a mutant and able to control plants, lots of cursing, lots of grotesque fliritng/fantasies, some soft moments, some sort of primal sex, oral (fem receiving), some of the setting is probs inaccurate but whatever. let me know if i missed any big ones!! word count: 4.9 k summary: well, you had to find some way of entertaining yourself at charles xavier's school for gifted youngsters. and you have always liked an emotionally unavailable, absolutely hung, challenge. pairing: logan howlett x mutant!reader now playing: ...ready for it? - taylor swift "in the middle of the night, in my dreams/you should see the things we do, baby/in the middle of the night in my dreams/i know i'm gonna be with you, so i take my time"

You are absolutely enthralled with him. It’s actually sort of pathetic how your fingers twitch at the sight of him, at how the mention of his name or god forbid the sound of his voice makes your head snap up, attention deficit disorders be damned!

Funnily enough, you had no damn interest in Xavier’s stupid mutant school, because to you, you’re not an outsider because of your mutant abilities (that don’t have much of a physical apparition, at least one that you can’t hide) but because there’s never been much of a place for you to fit in.

But, you were behind on rent and of course, you fucking hate your job, so why not? You’d be able to be slightly less of a freak, and you’d get free room and board in the process! (Where Charles gets all of his money, you do not know.)

And because you’re a little older, Charles doesn’t force you to sit in a class room to learn about basic arithmetic and grammar lessons, so you really only do some training around three times a day, you have your own room (with a dusty box under the other bed, you also suspect your room used to be the ‘sex’ room) and you have the weekends off.

So for a twenty something year old with few ambitions, the social skills of a Martian with autism, and a huge crush on every older emotionally unavailable man you meet, it’s a pretty good set-up.

You’re waiting for time to pass in the garden, just reading a rather interesting book that Charles had recommended after he noticed you needed something to pass time before you started making bad decisions.

You hear his heavy footsteps on the gravel before you see him. Your heart beats faster, but you will yourself, do everything in your power not to glance up at him. And you let out a breath as you succeed, keeping your head down.

“In your natural habitat, are you, spitfire?” Your head darts up to him—There’s no way he isn’t talking to you, you know you’re the only one in this garden. And you can see his lips twitch up and you want to crawl out of your skin!

“My-My natural habitat?” You laugh, closing the book you’re reading because your attention is locked to him now.

“Yeah, seems like it.” He saunters on up to you and sits on the bench next to you.

And let’s make something very clear—

Logan Howlett does not sit.

This man poses, as if there’s always some invisible camera capturing every frame of movement, from the way his legs spread out, to the way his chest lifts when he inhales.

Fuck, you think you might die if you can’t suck him off right now.

“And what exactly is my uh.. habitat?” You question.

He takes out his lighter and a cigar, placing the cigar in his mouth as he gestures to the space around the two of you, lighter in hand.

“A garden.” He says, matter of facility, as his voice is muffled only the slightest bit by the cigar.

And you just sort of look at him before asking,

“Oh, you enjoy being boiled down to your mutations, Claws?” You question, and as he goes to light the cigar, he smirks.

“Alright, you gotta admit though, it is cliché!”

You are absolutely in agreement, there is zero doubt you are as much of a walking, breathing, real life living, stereotype.

“It is not!” And the pair of you give each other this look, like you’re both shocked at how whiney that statement is!

“Uh-huh, sure, Spitfire.” It sounds almost like he’s purring at you.

When he lights his cigar, he’s sort of eying you for your reaction, whatever you might say.

“You know, smoking is not only bad for you, it’s awful for the environment.”

“You’re probably the most cliché little freak around here.” Which.. honestly..? Shouldn’t possibly turn you on as much as it does.

You just stare at him for a minute, and he smirks.

“Cat got your tongue?’

And maybe it’s stupid and maybe it’s immature but your hand just comes over to fiddle with the pointed part of his hair.

“We’ll you certainly look the part.” He just looks at you, and honestly? The way he’s looking at you, it’s like he’s proud of you for teasing him.

“Aw, there’s my little spitfire,” He teases, just to see how red you get. And red you are— it’s embarrassing. And here’s the kicker—You are young. Exceptionally young, and what’s insane about that? How horny it makes both you and Logan.

The idea of fucking your innocent cunt, tight and all his, drives him genuinely mad. And you are, quite literally, a whore for the idea of riding this older man’s dick. You know he’s big—sometimes you see the outerline of it when he walks away from you all huffy and puffy.

“You’re a tease, Claws.” You respond, raising an eyebrow at him.

“Says you,” he raises and eyebrow, leaning closer to you now, “You’re the one laying around in the sun, looking like that.”

“Looking like this?” You scoff. You’re wearing a muscle tee and a pair of ripped jeans, but the gaps are huge and he can see your thighs. He wants to devour you, and you would let him if he only asked.

And let’s be clear—he is fucking you with his eyes. There’s no way to go around it.

“I think you’re just.. horny.” You tease, and he just growls. Seriously, this man who is undressing you with his eyes, growls, because he does want you and he is horny!

“I think you’re onto something.” He purrs, and you want to just.. god. You don’t know how to express the pit of desire that grows in you. “I would fuck you until you couldn’t think, right here among your pretty flowers. Would you like that, baby?” he asks, his hand finding your thigh.

But you just cough on the smoke from his cigar, before frowning.

“You really shouldn’t smoke.”

“Aw, I’ll make it up to you.” He smirked. “Promise, spitfire.”

He’s very close to you now, so you take a second to just breath and you know that he knows that he’s got you—hook, line, and sweet, sweet sinker.

And then you realize what exactly it is that you’ve gotten yourself into. And what a nightmare it is—Or maybe a dream if you listen to the pathetic part of your brain, but you are into this an in a way that is concerning for your own mental wellbeing and desperately want to avoid him having all the power in this situation.

“Oh, I am sure you will.” You assure. You lean forward, plucking the cigar from his lips, and placing it on the ground, squashing it beneath your heel. With a flick of your wrist, vines and grass grow over the cigar, composting it. And from the vines, grows a small little buttercup flower.

You lean down and pluck the flower from the grass, before tucking it behind Logan’s ear.

“You should take care of that hard-on you have, Claws.” You hum, before standing up, and walking away. And for a minute, he just watches you go—partly to because you have an amazing ass, but partly because you have absolutely flabbergasted him.

And have made him want you even more.

• • •

The next time you see him is the next night, in the woods near the mansion. Because the literal sixteen year olds you go to ‘school’ with do not know how to do anything on the weekend except drink, fuck, and smoke.

Honestly, you kind of fit in great.

So here you are, nursing a mason jar of.. some fucked up concoction, and you’re not too sure what’s in it, but you have drunk two of them and are on your third. You think you might live forever, until you glance up and see Logan, in these fuck me jeans and this burnt orange flannel and a wife beater.

Instantly, you know that you’ll die tonight if you don’t have him.

He approaches you with this cocky smirk as if he hasn’t realized your intoxicated state yet.

“Now what’s a little spitfire like you doing all alone on a Friday night?” he questions, tilting his head. His smirk is deadly. And you roll your eyes.

“Here comes the big bad Wolverine, all bark and no bite.” You scoff, and his eyes flash with surprise. Only for a second, but even drunk, you notice the way his eyes shoot up in surprise.

“All bark and no bite? That’s quite the accusation.” He hums.

“Well, we’ve been.. eye fucking each other for a few weeks now, and you haven’t even kissed me yet. I get being into foreplay and edging, but holy shit, Claws, throw a girl a bone once in a while.” You scoff, and for a moment, he just looks at you.

“Are you.. drunk?”

“Do you think I’m drunk?”

“Yeah, you’re drunk.” He sighs. You respond by taking another sip of your drink, but before the bitter liquor hits your tongue, he snatches the bottle from you.

“Let me take you home.” You’re sure your eyes look like hearts, so, dreamily and a little love struck, you respond,

“’Kay.”

And he chuckles a little bit at that.

“We’re not gonna do anything, I’m just gonna walk you home, spitfire.” He starts, and your face falls a little bit, but in an effort to hide it, you respond,

“..’kay.” And he sees right through you. You’re pretty much an open book. And the alcohol doesn’t help. His pointer finger and thumb comes to your chin, and he gently rubs his thumb against your lip.

“Don’t be like that, pup. It’ll happen soon. Just not tonight, okay?” He assures.

“’Kay.” You answer softly, and you think he smiles at you but your vision is sort of blurry. Then, you blink, as a gust of wind moves through the trees, sending a shiver down your spine. He sighs, and wordlessly takes off his flannel, before wrapping it around you. Your arms slip into the sleeves, and you almost cry because it’s like, the best hug in the entire world. “Won’t.. you be cold, then?” you question, and he just shakes his head.

“Let’s get you home, spitfire.” He holds a handout to you, and without a second thought, you take his hand. He wraps his arm around you, and you lean against him like it’s something the two of you do often. If you were sober, you might short circuit. But, you’re not, so it feels right.

The walk home is quiet, but Logan’s thumb gently rubs against your shoulder. He wants to do more, but he knows he shouldn’t, since you are in fact plastered.

You ignore the giggles and whispers from teenagers making their way past you to the party or to their rooms, and you even ignore the way their giggles stop when they meet Logan’s gaze.

When you get back to your room, you take a second to lean against the door, and he takes a second to admire the way you look in his clothes.

“Ready for bed?” he asks gently, and you just smile at him.

“You’re really pretty.” He just does the half scoff-half chuckle that you’re obsessed with. Then, he wraps his arm around you again, opening the door to your room, and guiding you inside. He gets you to your bed and sits you down, before kneeling in front of you to untie your boots. “Has anyone ever told you how good you look on your knees?” you ask.

He just gives you this smirk.

“One or two pretty girls back in the day.” He says, “None as pretty as you though, spitfire.” He says, and you groan, leaning back and laying on the bed, as he pulls off your boots.

“You’re awful.” And you need him.

“Yes, I know, baby.” His voice is almost condescending, and it turns you on. But then he stands up, grabbing the folded blanket from the edge of your bed, and laying it over you. He finds his place kneeling next to you again as you stare at him, cozy in bed. His hands gently brush hair from your face. “Do you need anything else?”

“You.”

“Soon. But not yet, pup. You’re too drunk.” He says softly.

“Thanks for walking me home, Claws.”

“You’re very welcome, Spitfire.” He purrs, leaning forward and kissing your forehead gently. “I’ll see you in the morning. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Logan.” You mumble as you drift off to sleep. He sits there for a few minutes, just looking at you for a long time before he gets up and creeps out of your room.

• • •

The next morning, you sit in the cafeteria, drinking a large coffee, and nursing the worst hangover, possibly of your life. Made even worse by the fractions of memories about what happened last night.

You rub your eyes, flinching when you hear the clatter of a plate on the table, and someone sitting across from you. You peek through the gaps of your fingers to see Logan sitting across from you, a smirk on his face.

He opens his mouth to say something but you beat him to it.

“I hate you. Shut up.”

“I didn’t even say anything!” he laughs. But he sees how much pain you’re in, and slides two pieces of sourdough toast to you. “Truce?”

“Truce.” You agree, taking a slice and biting into it. You feel better.

And after a moment of silence, he asks,

“I’m never getting my flannel back, am I?”

Truthfully, the flannel has been folded neatly and tucked into your drawer, for the next time you need some comfort.

You tilt your head, looking right into his eyes.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

• • •

Weeks go by like this.

You spend your days either going to class or hanging out—okay, it’s more like flirting with a side of hanging out, with Logan. The pair of you become quite close, and maybe that’s why you haven’t fucked yet.

Oh, the two of you want to, and it’s obvious to everyone (Charles has called you out for being distracted more times than you can count, and you remind him not to probe your mind, and he tells you he does not need his mutant abilities to see that your thoughts linger elsewhere.) but you’re.. afraid, at this point.

Which is odd, because you’re no virgin, you know he wants you, but.. what if everything changes after that? Maybe he’ll start to avoid you. Maybe you’ll start to avoid him. And you’ve really become good friends, and don’t want to lose it.

And then, there’s the fact that half the time, he’s away on dangerous missions, and even if he can regenerate, you worry about him. But he hasn’t been on any lately, so it’s like waiting for the other shoe to drop.

You’re sitting in the garden when it happens.

He finds you, and this time, you do not even try to hide the way your head picks up and gazes at him.

“Hi, Spitfire.” He grins, and you smile a bit at him.

“Claws, what can I do for you?” And he sits next to you, and for some reason, maybe because he doesn’t say anything at first, you know that there is something wrong. And you know what it is.

After a few minutes, you glance to him.

“You’re leaving, aren’t you?” Your voice is quiet, as if you’re scared that if it gets any louder, everything will fall apart.

“Yeah. Charles has me going on another mission.” He doesn’t say it, but you both know this isn’t an involuntary thing.

“Cool.” You cringe at your reaction.

“I guess.” He laughs weakly, as if he knows he’s twisting a knife buried within you.

Silence fills the air. It’s not necessarily uncomfortable, but it isn’t the relaxed silence you’re used to with him. Confessions dance on the tips of your tongues, and you’re so close to saying it, that when you turn to each other suddenly, you just need to look at each other for a second.

“Be safe.” You say quietly. “And hurry back.” You request, and you try not to sound like you’re begging.

“Of course.” He says, like it perplexes him that you even have to request. “I can’t leave you here yearning for me forever, can I?” He teases, and for a moment, you have this flash of an alternate universe where he does die on this mission and you are trapped in this garden forever, waiting for him. Like a lost puppy, or worse, a lost lover. The mere thought of it fucks with your head.

“No. You can’t. I won’t allow it.” You explain, “If anything, I’m the one that should be haunting you.” He just smiles. A real, not at all awkward smile.

“I’m sure you will, spitfire.” He says, and his head comes forward so that his forehead is resting against yours.

“When do you leave?” You ask gently, and he sighs. His breath smells of mint and cigar smoke, maybe even a hint of lemon.

“An hour. I have to pack quick and then debrief.” He answers you.

And just as love struck as you were the night of the party, you answer,

“’Kay.” You smile weakly at him. And he just.. looks at you for a few minutes before sighing again. He pulls away and leans up to kiss your forehead again, before standing up. He turns a few steps away from you just to tease you.

“Don’t miss me too much, okay?” he requests softly. Before you can stop yourself, you stand up, and wrap your arms around him. He only pauses for a half a second before he returns your embrace, and it becomes apparent that you both needed this moment. You stay like this for a few minutes before you pull away.

“Bring me back a souvenir.” You try, a soft smile on your face.

“Yeah, don’t worry. I’ll bring you something great from the great city of Tulsa, Ohklahoma.” He grins.

“Deal.”

“Deal.”

• • •

For the next week, you feel like this must be what it was like for housewives when their husbands went to war. You knew all too well that that statement was extremely dramatic, but you simply cannot help yourself.

You think you might die by day three.

It’s like you’re going through withdrawals and it’s making you go genuinely insane.

You have worn this man’s flannel for almost the entire week, because at first you’re a little self-conscious of other people noticing your repeating outfits, but only at first. By day four, you have decided you don’t give a single fuck.

Day eight you’re just laying in bed, quietly making a list of all the positions you want him to take you in. It’s a long list. You’re brought back to reality by a knock on your door. You’re about to snap, knowing that you’ll tell whatever child has been sent to bother you to scram, but when you open the door, you grin widely.

Logan stands there, looking tired, but he’s smiling and holding up a shot glass that reads ‘Tusla’, and has skyline on it.

“Didn’t I tell you I’d get you a souvenir?” He asks, and you can’t help but wrap your arms around him, pulling him in. He hugs you back, making sure to squeeze you just a bit—your feet barely come off the ground.

He pulls away, and you grin up to him.

“You came back.” You say it as if you can barely believe it, and just for a moment, he feels an emotion he can’t quite place, but he ignores it.

“Of course I came back, spitfire. All in one piece too, as requested.” He grins, and you’re just.. amazed at the look of him. “What’s that look for?” He asks gently, tilting his head.

“I just..” you start.

And then you break.

You lean up and kiss him gently, those stupidly delicious sideburns making your stomach flip. He doesn’t waste time, kissing you back, his arms around your waist. After a minute, you pull away.

“Sorry. I’m kind of done playing that game of waiting for you to kiss me. I just got the first hit of you I’ve had all week, and I feel fucking amazing.” You confess, and sure, it’s not a big grand love confession with tears and poetry, but your words make him kiss you so intensely that you start backing into your room, his hands exploring your body as you tug off his leather jacket, a new flannel for you to steal coming off soon after.

He keeps kissing you as his hands come down to your jeans, unbuttoning and unzipping them, before gently pushing you to sit on the bed. He kneels in front of you, and begins to tug off your boots again, then, on your jeans.

You grin.

“You know, I’m getting the oddest sense of déjà vu. Something about you looking great on your knees.” You tease, and he just tugs off your jeans in one strong swoop, before leaning in to bite your thigh. You gasp, your hands coming up to tug his hair.

Then, he begins to tug at your panties, and you tilt his head up, glancing at him.

“What are you doing?”

“Well, before I was interrupted, I was about to eat you out.”

“Wait, really?”

He blinks, confused.

“Yeah. Is that a, uh.. problem..?” He hasn’t gotten any complaints yet.

“I just.. I didn’t think guys actually did that, I thought it was just.. a porno thing.” And at this, the man who is about to burry his face between your thighs, laughs. And not just a chuckle, this man hollars. “What’s so funny, claws?” You ask, a little suspicious.

“Nothing,” he promises, “I am just going to take such good care of you, pup.”

“I’m holding you to that, claws.” And then, he leans in and begins to kiss your thighs, gently biting down here and there. Then, he licks a stripe along your cunt, and you let out this loud moan, and your hand comes up to clamp over your mouth, but he reaches up to grab your hand, lacing his fingers with yours.

He pulls away to lecture you. Lecture you. On his knees. Head between your thighs.

“Nuh-uh, I wanna hear all the pretty noises you can make for me.” Then, softer, he adds, “Never been eaten out before, fuckin’ travesty.” He mumbles, before leaning in to lick your cunt again, beginning to lap his tongue over your throbbing heat.

His nose rubs against your clit, and it’s enough to drive you genuinely crazy. You’re unsure how you’ve gotten to this point in your life without having your pussy worshipped like this, but with him around, you’re pretty sure you’ll never go another day without it.

His tongue continues to work magic on your cunt, as his nose presses against your clit, stimulating you to the point of making you see stars.

Your hands tug at his hair, and the moan that it elicits from him is enough to send vibrations through your cunt through your stomach. Your head leans back as you moan, and for a moment, you hope there is no mutant in this mansion with super hearing.

His free hand grips your thigh as he bends your leg back to get better access, as he continues to eat you out. The mere taste of you is enough to drive him crazy—He almost wants to start thrusting into the side of your bed, he’s so hard, but he ignores that urge to continue to eat you out.

“Mm—Lo, I—I’m gonna—”

He just hums into your cunt, giving your thigh a gentle squeeze of approval, before his tongue moves even faster (if that’s even possible, though, he is an amazingly surprising man), and suddenly—

You feel a release you have been waiting for weeks, and it is fucking phenomenal. And the Wolverine just licks up all your cum, even if it makes your thighs shake, but honestly, he doesn’t care and neither do you. For a moment, you just listen to the sound of your own pants.

After a minute, you are able to look at him, and he just looks up to you with the same smirk that has been torturing you for all of those weeks. And you just have to pull him up to kiss you, like it’s the only way you’ll be able to live.

As you kiss him, you pull off his wifebeater and then your hands rest on the sides of his face as he pulls off your shirt as well, before his hands begin to make quick work of his belt, wanting to skip all of the pleasantries and just fuck you.

But when he finally gets his jeans off, you pull away, and he stares at you like you’re crazy.

“What the fuck could possibly be more important than me fucking you stupid?”

“Will you just.. let me look at you?” You scoff, your eyes flickering over him to just memorize every square inch of his body. He humors you for a few minutes, standing there with his hands on hips before he leans in and cages you in with his arms.

“Show’s over, spitfire.” He purrs, leaning in to kiss you, slowly making his way closer to you so that you’re laying back on your bed. At some point during the kiss, his boxers come off, and when you feel his cock against your cunt, you moan into the kiss, and you can feel his smirk against your lips.

Oh, you could kill him. But, you suspect maybe he’ll get to you first.

After he kisses you for a few minutes, he pulls away to tell—not ask, tell you, “I’m going to fuck you now.” And you know your line.

“’Kay.” He grins at this and kisses you again, before lining himself up and starting slowly. He just has the tip inside of you, and you begin to moan, your grip on his shoulders tightening. You already feel entirely too full, and he slowly agonizingly slowly pushes into you, and he sees how his size makes your face twitch,

“Shh, shh, I know, pup. Deep breathes for me, bub,” he says softly, such a stark contract to his rough movements, as he bottoms out and has his entire cock inside of you. And he gives you a second, watching as your face relaces, adjusting to the size of him. “Okay?” He asks, and you nod.

“’Kay,” You assure, and he kisses your forehead.

“’Kay.” He responds, and before you can tease him for it, he begins to thrust into you, slowly as first, but he continues to quicken his pace. Your nails begin to scratch on his back, and he lets out this angelic moan—You must’ve died and went to heaven.

As his thrusts quicken, the lines quickly blur between quick ruts and an animalistic need, manifesting itself in the way he fucks you. You know you won’t last long, especially when his fingers find your clit and begin to rub it again.

“Fuck! Oh my god—”

“I know, baby, I know,” he coos, his free hand coming to your thigh to lift your leg up, only for better access to your throbbing cunt, “God, I love the feeling of you around me.. Worth the wait, I promise.” He grumbles, as he thrusts into you, his only goal to make you cum.

You want to respond to that—To tease him, to make him feel as shy as you do, but he has completed his goal of fucking you stupid.

All you can do is respond, “Fuck—I’m gonna—”

“I know, baby, go ahead, cum for me,” he requests softly, leaning in to press a rather jarringly sweet kiss to your lips.

As you cum around his cock, he shudders, the look of you, laying there fucked dumb, is almost too much for him to bear.

“I’m gonna fill you up, pup,” he tells you, and all you can do is moan in response, which makes him come that much closer to the edge. After a few more thrusts, with a euphoric moan that will haunt you forever, his hot cum fills you up, leaving the pair of you clawing at each other, wanting more.

When you’re both finally finished riding out your high, Logan lays next to you, keeping you close. His grip on you is tight—possessive. When you finally find your voice, you ask,

“You’re not gonna turn me into a booty call, are you, claws?”

And he laughs.

“No,” he says, pressing a kiss to your head. “You’re gonna be my best girl, Spitfire.”

“Does this mean I get to steal another of your flannels?”

“I’ll give you my whole fucking wardrobe to see how many times I can make you cum.”

[afeelgoodblog]

The Best News of Last Month - July 2024

🏅- Talk about an Olympic comeback!

1. U.S. proposes ban on airline fees for seating parents next to kids

Parents should't have to pay a fee to sit next to their children when flying, according to the White House, which is moving to ban airlines from charging families extra to be seated together.

Under a rule proposed Thursday by the Department of Transportation, airlines would be required to seat parents and kids 13 and younger together free of charge when adjacent seating is available at booking.

2. A spinal injury killed Adriana Ruano's dream as a gymnast. She just won Guatemala's first Olympic gold medal as a shooter.

Ruano was training for the 2011 world championships in gymnastics, a qualifier for the London Olympics the following year, when she felt pain in her back. An MRI showed the then-16-year-old had six damaged vertebrae — a career-ending injury.

But on Wednesday, she came back as a shooter and won Guatemala's first Olympic gold medal.

3. Woman swept out to sea rescued after surviving 37 hours in 6.5' waves, drifted over 50 miles.

A Chinese woman who was swept out to sea while swimming at a Japanese beach was rescued 37 hours later after drifting in an inflatable swim ring more than 80 kilometers (50 miles) in the Pacific Ocean, officials said Thursday.

4. Afghan Sisters Escape The Taliban To Achieve Olympic Dreams

Sisters Yulduz and Fariba Hashimi are set to become the first female cyclists from Afghanistan to compete in the Olympics. The siblings fled their country after the Taliban seized power in 2021 and cracked down on women's rights, including banning women from participating in sports.

5. Stem cell therapy cures man with type 2 diabetes

A 59-year-old man had been suffering from diabetes for 25 years, needing more and more insulin every day to avoid slipping into a diabetic coma and was at risk of death. But then Chinese researchers cured his disease for the first time in the world. The patient received a cell transplant in 2021 and has not taken any medication since 2022.

6. Seventh person likely 'cured' of HIV, doctors announce

A 60-year-old German man is likely the seventh person to be effectively cured from HIV after receiving a stem cell transplant, doctors announced on Thursday. The man received a bone marrow transplant for his leukaemia in 2015. The procedure, which has a 10 percent risk of death, essentially replaces a person's immune system.

7. Every country has now banned the use of leaded gasoline in cars

Three and a half decades later, in 2021, Algeria became the last country to ban it. Leaded gasoline is now banned from being used in road vehicles in every country. It is a big win for the health of people around the world.

----------

That's it for this month :)

This newsletter will always be free. If you liked this post you can support me with a small kofi donation here:

Buy me a coffee ❤️

Also don’t forget to share this post with your friends.

[bunnygirllover45]

— THE THRILL OF THE HUNT.

♱ TRIGGER WARNINGS: Johann literally hunts down the reader, Small outburst at the end, and a lot of bullshit talk about hunting because I like it, DEAD DOVE. No violence was used.

Synopsis: You escape from Johann, he has to track you down. WORD COUNT: 1.6k

Johann wasn't exactly the thrill-seeking kind. He always preferred a slow-paced life, not filled with many excitements or tragedies. He wasn’t an adventurous spirit or a fiery soul in search of greater meaning. In his head, the only thing he needed was you.

And maybe that’s why this exact moment made his blood boil with newfound rapture, he could swear for a moment his skin bumped at the feeling of his heart throbbing so quickly against his ribcage. The thrill of the hunt, like his father used to say, made mere men become beasts, some because it was vital for their survival, others because of the rush of power it gave them.

But he couldn’t quite understand it until now. For him, hunts weren’t that exciting. The game was always too easy to track down, the footsteps effortlessly concealed. The gun didn’t feel heavy enough. His breath didn’t quicken at the mere chance of letting his prey slip away; he’ll always find a way to reach them again, after all. Animals have their habits; they’re easy to decipher once you know their true nature.

This is the type of hunt he’s been craving for so long. Johann had to press a hand against his mouth to prevent a low chuckle from escaping. Oh, how right his father was. This was truly trilling to the core, the kind of thrill that made a foreign heat rise towards his head and seep into his very brain tissue.

Humans aren’t like animals, their behavior is a little more erratic, animals can be divided between highly intelligent beings and straight-up dumb ones, but humans? All of them had their quirks, you couldn’t easily guess how prepared someone could be under certain circumstances. “Isn’t that so fucking interesting?” 

Lowering himself to the ground Johann reached to touch the freshly shaped footstep that his precious prey left behind. If they’re leaving such a pretty trail behind they’re expecting me to find them, what a tease.

“You know what kind of animals roam these types of terrains?” His voice was loud enough to carry its sound through the extremely quiet, when the hunt begins, the forest goes quiet, no need to scream. “Bears, moose, sometimes even wolves. Had to detangle a lot of ‘em from traps before, not without properly securing they won’t be able to bite, ‘course.” 

His heavy boots made the rotten wood and debris scattered around the forest soil yield under their weight, no need to change onto more quiet shoes, his bunny wouldn’t be able to hear him coming, surely their heartbeat was the only thing resounding inside their ears. Reaching into his pocket he took out his watch, starting a countdown. “I’ll give you two minutes to gain distance, cover your tracks, you can try hiding if you want, but I wouldn’t recommend staying still, it makes you easier to spot.” 

“Once the two minutes are done I’ll begin searching, I'll make a bird calling each 45 seconds, and once three minutes pass by, I’ll stop making bird callings and hunt in earnest, ‘kay? Just want to make the game easier for you, it isn’t fun if I’m the one with the upper hand all the time even if this is my subject.” 

With a deep sigh, he crouched down again, his hands fidgeting inside his pocket until he found a cigarette, the last one actually. Grabbing his lighter he lit up the tip, taking a slow inhale before letting the smoke escape from his lips. 

His free hand reached to grab the gun he always had with him, it was an old friend of sorts, stuck by his side in all the worst situations, a lot of people meeting their death at the end of this same barrel. Maybe it should have your name, after all, people do name their guns sometimes.

The forest grew more eerily quiet, the sun setting down in the distance while Johann quietly awaited the starting gunshot of the race, he didn’t really need to put the time on his watch, he could already count the time down to the millisecond inside his head. “Forty-eight, forty-nine…” His gloved fingers tapped against his lips, hands tightly clad in leather gloves, perfect for the harsh Austrian winter. 

A part of him wished you didn’t even make the effort to run away, maybe finding you curled up against a rock or a tree just waiting for him to find you was more exciting than actually pursuing you, after all, that meant you truly gave up on the idea of leaving him behind—still, another part of his brain screamed for you to run, so he could find you and make sure you won’t try pulling up bullshit like this again.

Slowly he stood up, the watch making a low beeping sound before he began to walk, settling the gun back onto the strap around his thigh. Holding the cigarette in between his lips he began to prepare the clothes you were going to use once he caught you, after all, little you decided to escape both barefoot and barely dressed, the worst thing in this forest beside him was the cold. Holding the spare jacket he always brought with him inside his bag and a blanket he continued to walk nonchalantly, not even sparing a single stare in any direction that wasn’t just dead front and center. 

Johann's stare drifted onto the floor, a little disappointed that you didn’t take his recommendation into account, there, clear as day, were your pretty little marks for him to follow like a bloodhound. Johann even took the time to carefully make sure he didn’t accidentally step into any of them, not wanting to overshadow the loving tracks you left behind for him with his heavy boots.

He knew very well he was taking all of this too lightly, this was a high gamble where he could lose everything or gain all, but still the elated sense of happiness and bubbling excitement made him more self-confident, too sure you wouldn’t get away too far, and even if you did, he’d stay in the damn forest all the time necessary for you to realize you need to go back onto his loving arms.

Stopping dead in his tracks he turned around as he heard a small sound coming from behind a fallen stump, dead bark peeling off the tree’s corpse. There you are.

And there you were indeed, curled up in a ball, back pressing against the rough bark as you held your arms around your torso, bracing yourself from the harsh winter cold, from the shiver that ran down your shoulders towards your legs or the sight you so pathetically defenseless made him smile, a blush creeping up onto his features.

“You didn’t even run far enough to let me do any bird calls, are you that tired, baby?” He kneeled down in front of you, but as soon as you jolted up in surprise Johann’s hand shot to grab your wrist with unnerving quickness. His dark eyes bore into you, a small smile gracing his lips, but there was no emotion behind that expression of his. “That’s okay, next time I’ll give you some proper equipment, some shoes wouldn’t hurt.” 

His thumb caressed the skin of your wrist, while his other hand threw away the now almost half-smoked cigarette that Johann held in between his lips. Eventually he reached to grab your head in between them, rubbing your cheeks with such tenderness that it could be even soothing in a different situation. “There, you did good. Not good enough to grant you a reward, but you did have me a little scared back there.” His smile widened as he lied through his teeth. You frowned, tired, freezing cold and also breathless, but still with enough energy to try and pry his hand away from your wrist, it was useless, he was latched onto you like a handcuff. “Fuck yo—” Before you could even finish he reached to clasp his free hand onto your mouth, the sudden movement making you stumble backward, head pressing against the tree. “Fuckin’ language.” He whispered between his teeth, staring at you dead in the eyes. “You should be grateful I didn’t put a damn bullet in between those pretty eyes of yours. Runnin’ away from me like that? After all I did for you? I let you away from my sight for just a second and you go jolting away like a fucking rabbit.” 

Taking a deep breath he lowered his head, slowly pushing his hand away from your mouth, his face leaning closer to you, the only warm feeling gracing your warm body being his hot breath against your face. “Sorry ‘bout that.” He pushed your lower lip with his thumb, pressing a soft kiss onto your flesh as some sick and twisted kind of apology.

“I won’t be as lenient next time, ‘kay? You know I care about you a lot, meine Liebe, don’t want you getting hurt.” He forced a smile, leaning his forehead against yours, but again his voice was masked by the thumping sound of your heart against your ears. “Let’s get you back to the car, I’ll get you all warmed up and cozy.” 

You just let him grab you, his hands effortlessly grabbing you and carrying you bridal style as both of you made your way back toward the car, you stole a few glances at Johann’s face, finding a small smile and that darn blush in his cheeks that showed how much he enjoyed himself, maybe a twisted part of him was truly pleased by all of this, even if it just started as a rebellious act of trying to escape from your part.

“Hear that? It’s a White-tailed eagle. Birds of prey, always hunted them with my father as a child.” Suddenly the forest wasn’t so quiet anymore, the hunt has ended.

[littlenahsstuff]

Way I request a Rio x reader x Agatha where while they hate each other, Rio and Agatha both adore reader? And reader trues their best to make them be at least somewhat nice to each other while they're around

Down the Right Path

Warnings: not proofread. You are Sharon’s replacement. I had only watched the first to episodes when I started writing this. Ignore the plot holes.

Word count: ~2.9k

The witches road was a dark place. The leaves beneath your feet may have been soft but the cold and misty air bit into them. Overall you were scared, but part of you couldn’t wait for the reward. You may have been a young witch, but you knew of the roads powers. Not long after you entered a witch named Rio joined you. You could not deny both her and Agatha were totally smoking but they seemed to have a weird tension. You could only notice it briefly before you were consumed with worries of the path ahead.

“Hello replacement,” Rio purrs into your ear. You startle. “Relax, I don’t bite too much.” You give her an awkward smile.

“It’s okay, um… my names Y/n, by the way. I’m a newer witch if you couldn’t tell. It’s Rio, right?” You question, falling behind the group slightly. Rio gives you a grin.

“Lovely name, baby witch. Yes, I’m Rio. Did you know Agatha before this, you seemed to be sticking to her like glue before I arrived?” Her grin sticks but the question is said with underlying bite. You glance up ahead to where Agatha grumpily walks fast.

“Yes,” you sigh ,”Back when Wanda was hexing everyone I happened to get swept up in it. Funnily enough I was her wife. Even though it wasn’t real it stings that she knew the whole time it was a spell and didn’t help. After she forgot everyone and became a mean detective she didn’t remember me so I didn’t see her much.” You admit.

“Wow such a sad backstory. I guess that makes you another one of her ex-wives. Even if it was fake,” Rio says with an airy laugh.

Your brows furrow, “She was actually married at one point, who got the real deal?” Rio bites her lip and wiggles her eyebrow.

“Looking at her. Welcome to the ex-wives club hot stuff-“ Rio is interrupted by Agatha’s angry beckon for her.

“See you later babe,” Rio finishes with a wink and teleports up to Agatha. You stay wide eyed in the back.

“You called?” She questions with a huff.

“I don’t know what you think you’re doing with Y/n but leave your no good mitts off of her. She’s too good for you and you know that.” Agatha scolds, keeping her voice low and eyes ahead. Rio laughs.

“Oh come on, you of all people appreciate a little corruption now and then. Besides she already told me you weren’t interested in her herself. As far as I’m concerned she’s free game and a delicious way to get at you Aggie” she responds. Agatha fumes.

“Oh so you’re playing dirty now, got it,” Agatha glances back at you and you smile, making her heart beat a little uncomfortably fast. Rio’s eyes light up.

“No way, you really do care. This is going to be so fun!” She gasps. Agatha groans.

“Whatever, I’ve got places to be.”

***

The coven decided to set up camp, much to Agatha’s dismay. Agatha lit a fire for light and everyone sat around it. You sat on a log immediately followed by Rio to your left and Agatha to your right.

“So baby witch, you’re an earth witch too, what a coincidence. Seems like Wanda knew Agatha had a type,” Rio whispers in your ear, but loud enough Agatha could hear it. You feel your face heat up.

“I guess, yeah,” you laugh awkwardly, staring a little too intently at the ground. Agatha looks behind you at Rio with a death glare. Rio responds with a smile and slowly puts an arm around you.

“We have so much in common already. Tell me baby witch, you seeing anyone? It’s been three years after all.” Rio’s question takes you off guard and you look at her.

“Um, no.”

“Well what a shame.” She pauses and her eyes light up, “A pretty girl like you ought to have someone. Something… real.” Her voice sent shivers down your spine. You couldn’t for the life of you figure out if she was genuinely flirting with you or planning something else. You stand up quickly.

“I- I’m gonna go get more kindling for the fire,” you rush out before speeding away.

Still at the campfire, Rio cackles and Agatha clears her throat. Grabbing Rio by the collar and pulling her up to stand.

“You’re coming with me,” she grits out, tugging Rio harshly to the opposite direction you went.

Once alone she lets her temper burn much like the fire at the site.

“You miserable bitch, why are you going after her like that?!” Agatha hurls, her arms flailing.

“Well… hmmm. Maybe because it’s so delicious. And at first it was just to get back at you… but, and I can’t deny this, she’s a pretty thing. You never did like sharing your toys, but you mistreated this one and now she needs a new home,” Rio’s eyes light up as she watches every angry twitch on Agatha’s face. Agatha puts her foot down.

“I know I did, but that doesn’t mean you can too-“

Rios eyes widen, “Now now, who said I would mistreat her? No no no. I want her terribly. I want someone a little more malleable. Someone I don’t have to worry will trade me for silly magic tricks.” She takes turns her back to Agatha.

“Don’t you turn your back on me! You’re such a child Rio. Don’t act like you weren’t gallivanting naked with young witches in the woods while we were still together!” Agatha groans in frustration as Rio walks away, “Hey, come back here!” Rio gives yet another cackle.

“You’re still invited to the wedding!” She calls back.

Agatha, disposed of her magic still, is forced to run to catch up. Just as she’s about to jump and tackle Rio, the other witch teleports back. Agatha is left huffing on the forest floor, spitting a stray leaf out.

***

Once enough time has passed, it never really was morning on the road, everyone continues the trek. Once again you find yourself at the back of the group, trailing behind everyone else. Everyone else but Rio and Agatha of course. The both of them cling to you like urchins. They aren’t actually touching you, but they’re a breath away each.

“So…” Agatha clears her throat, “haven’t been able to talk to you much since… you know. How have you been?” She hates that Rio had to be here too while this happens but it’s better to her to clear the awkward tension between you and her asap.

You sigh slightly, “not bad, um… how’s Señor Scratchy? I miss him.” Agatha gives you a soft smile despite the pang in her chest.

“Alive and well, still my little trouble bunny. I think he got it from you,” she says, tilting her head back and forth. You giggle and roll your eyes.

“Nope, all you. He’s your familiar after all. I’m glad he’s well. I’ll have to give him a treat if I see him again.” You offer it, an underlying sadness to your tone. Agatha picks it up immediately. You missed her too but would never admit it, after all you were the entranced one while you two were together.

“When. You’ll see him again…” she corrects, making you smile softly. The sight brings hope and warmth to Agatha’s chest. She looks at you, but she’s distracted by Rios maniacal face behind your head. Sensing it’s her turn to speak Rio seizes it.

“So… Y/n, you like animals? I happen to be able to turn into many, that’s my earth witch specialty right there,” Rio says cheerily. Her grin displays her pearly whites. You turn to her, making Agatha’s heart clench.

Your eyes light up, “really, wow. I personally work with herbs and plants more but that’s incredible. I do love animals, what kinds?” Agatha internally groans at having lost your attention so marvelously.

Rio beams with pride, “All kinds, but crows and wolves I’m particularly fond of.”

You ooh, “I love birds a lot.” You add, “maybe you could show me sometime?” Rio grabs your hand, making Agatha bristle, her hair practically standing up in outrage.

“Of course beautiful, it’s a date.” Your stomach does flips at the thought but you try not to read too far in it.

“Sure,” you chirp.

***

After another day of exhausting walking camp is set up again. Agatha cannot truly remember how long the trip was originally, but it seems about right. Much to Agatha’s surprise, you ask her to talk alone with you. Rio wants to join but she knows it would affect her chances with you.

You take a deep breath. This area of the road seems darker, but the magic lull does not cease.

“Agatha, may I ask you a question?” You start. She’s suspicious but nods. “If Rio was the one on your list, why did you bring me?” She shuffles, exhaling.

She knew she would have to tell you eventually… “well, I know there’s no excuse for allowing you to be in so much pain in Westview, but I felt awful. And Rio can be more manipulative than me. Don’t trust her too much. I know I couldn’t. But… I know you can’t trust me either. You’re a bright witch Y/n. As much as it kills me to admit it I truly am sorry. For what it’s worth I was having so much fun with you that I forgot you weren’t completely there.”

Her admittance was spur of the moment, but it made her feel better nonetheless. That may have been the first time she apologized in a very very long time. To her surprise you smile at her.

“That means a lot actually. And I kinda left you there for three years, so… I guess it’s safe to say you paid the price. Even?” You say, Agatha can’t honestly believe her luck tonight. She’s starting to think that genuine apologies are some sort of witch craft too.

“Thanks. Even.” She states, but she notices the frown on your face. You glance in the directions of the camp.

“Hey,” your brows furrow, “what do you mean I can’t trust Rio?” Agatha internally squeals at her luck.

“Well, Rio has been known to flaunt around the pilgrimage if you know what I mean. It’s half of the reason we broke it off,” she switches to a mumble, “the other half was me.” Your eyes widen.

“Oh…”

“Besides she’s using you to get back at me.” Agatha says too nonchalantly. Your eyes widen even more.

“What?” Your tone is angry. You kick yourself for getting too hopeful. Of course, they love each other still. How could you not realize. You’re just a stupid pawn. Again! “Oh…” you say dejected. Agatha was expecting to enjoy watching your relationship with Rio burn, but her stomach develops a pit.

“Well, hey now… I mean she was, b-but-“ Agatha would rather die than admit to you that it could be real.

“Let’s just go, we have a big day tomorrow. Just try not to fight each other too much.” It’s safe to say Agatha was in deeper shit now.

***

The journey continues and both Rio and Agatha have noticed you avoiding them the best you could.

“What did you tell her,” Rio grits and Agatha sighs.

She responds with, “the truth,” reluctantly. “That you were talking to her to get back at me.”

“Well did you tell her just that or the whole truth. Did you tell her of our feelings cause right now she’s all emo like the teenager,” Rio objects, her hands grabbing Agatha’s shoulders.

“I may have omitted that part yes,” she says unashamed (she was very shamed).

“Oh my god you don’t change do you! You always were so cryptic. It’s one of the reasons I love you but-“

“Love present tense?” Agatha interrupts. She’s internally freaking out a bit but she plays it off with a smirk and a teasing tone. “Oh that’s so sweet hun. Couldn’t get enough, could you.” Rio groans and rolls her eyes.

“Oh baby- one can hate and love,” Rio smirks.

Agatha’s about to give another witty reply when a scream breaks out in the distance. They know it’s you. They break into a run… well Agatha does. Rio teleports.

You’re on your elbows trying to get away from some sort of invisible force they can’t see. What they can see is an ugly gash on your arm.

Rio immediately calls upon some vines and they thrash around. Blindly hitting something

Agatha grabs a big stick and tosses it at the creature. She holds her breath, internally freaking out. She feels so helpless, the full effects of her being without magic getting to her. Thankfully the creature lets out a yelp.

You back up more, the invisible beast swipes at you again. Alice sends a protective shield over you, giving you enough time to get away. Right as the beast is (presumably) stunned, Rio stabs a sharp root right through it.

Everything stills. Agatha kicks it carefully and there isn’t a reaction.

Now that the coast is clear both Agatha and Rio focus back on you. Lilia is holding you. The gash doesn’t look too deep but you don’t look good. You feel the cold of the road run deep through your bones.

“Oh shit,” Agatha murmurs, kneeling down.

“Jen, tell me you can find something to help her. There’s mushrooms and roots up the wazoo!” Rio stresses, her arms flailing. Jen’s eyes search the ground for any herbs or mushrooms. As if the road felt like it’s done enough, Jen spots a cure.

“Agatha, Rio, I need two rocks, preferably one pretty big and one small without dirt on it,” she says, frantically de rooting the herbs. Rio looks around and spots a rock. She frantically tosses it to Agatha who barely catches it.

“Did you just throw a rock at me!” Agatha yells. She brings the rock to Jenn. Lilia had already given her the small one.

Rio runs her fingers through her hair. “Relax bitch, you just need to work on your hand-eye coordination!” She sneers. The volume makes you wince.

“Guys- if I die please don’t let your loud-ass bickering be the last thing I hear,” you speak weakly. Jen grinds the roots and herb into a paste, using the dew of a leaf to bind it. Agatha and Rio shut up, both a little embarrassed.

“I mean seriously you both still love each other.,” you add, hissing. Jen is applying the paste to the gash. It’s chilly, but healing. It’s magic of course so the healing process quickens. Jen smiles at her work. Both let out huffs and give one another a begrudgingly hopeful look.

“No,” Rio speaks, “We just both have our eye on the same thing.” You scoff, able to sit up.

You argue, “Are you kidding, I see the way you sneak glances at one another when the other doesn’t know they’re looking. The same thing is each other.” They mull over your response but Agatha sighs and looks down.

“Perhaps that is true…” she starts, “But Rio is right too, we both want you.” Your eyes widen.

“No, you’re using me. I just want you two to get along.” You rebut. You feel as if it would be too good to be true, but you did see that you were being used. You stand and wince. “The witches road is dangerous, it’s best to get these feelings out now when we may never be able to later.”

Rio crosses her arms defensively. “No, we really do like you, each other is debatable but you my dear are the poisoned apple of our eye.” You actually give a giggle.

“I’m flattered I suppose… but Rio, that’s the cheesiest thing you’ve said to me in the time I’ve known you.” Your laugh makes Rio want to escape, but she can’t resist the fact that it completed her in a sense.

“It was,” Agatha adds, “and yes you’re part of this.” She gives you a pointed look. You smile.

“So you both mean it? No witches tricks?” You double check. if you’re about to achieve your life long dream you better make sure you’re not getting punked.

“Yes,” they sigh, exasperated and in unison. You embrace them both, putting them eye to eye between your arms.

“Well thankfully I’m still here…” you turn to Jen, “thanks to you Jen. Glad I was able to grow those herbs in time.” There’s a certain pride in your voice.

“That was you?” Agatha says surprised. You nod.

“What can I say I’m an earth witch.” You curtesy goofily.

“All I can say is that I’m glad they’ll stop the bickering now,” Lilia adds. “You lovebirds have fun with all that messed up shit.”

“You mean Agatha?” Rio chuckles.

Agatha’s eyes widen, “Why you-“

“LADIES!” you but in. “Stop that. You like each other, remember that before I force you to hold hands the rest of the way.”

“Fine” they both huff. You smile. They’re a handful, but they’re now your handful.

[magalhaessims]

AGAVE APARTMENT - MAXIS-MATCH CC BUILD

I'm finally sharing an apartment! I chose to build in Oasis Springs and opted for the smallest lot available. There are three units in total, but I've only fully decorated one. I designed it with Johnny Zest in mind. Also, I really wanted to use these two new, coolest sets: Neighborly and Cheap&Chipped by @syboubou. I really loved all the items — especially the empty toilet paper roll; it's my new favorite! LOL.

Additionally, due to some glitches in my game following the For Rent patch, I've labeled this build as "Residential" to avoid any potential issues with saving files. If you encounter any problems, please don't hesitate to let me know! If you want to check out the construction progress, watch the YouTube video linked below.

NOT CC FREE 

Lot Type: Residential | Rental

Size: 20x15 

World: Oasis Springs

Enable bb.moveobjects before placing in your game!

📺 WATCH THE SPEED BUILD HERE ✨

Origin ID: MagalhaesSims (remember to enable custom content on!) DOWNLOAD

CC USED IN THIS BUILD:

NOTE: For convenience, some of the CC is included in the Download Folder. Please put it in your Mods Folder along with the CC linked below.

AwingedLlama: Nostalgia Living || Charly Pancakes: Chalk Kitchen (Clutter) | Munch | Soak | The Lighthouse || TheClutterCat: Busy Bee | Cozy Casita | Dandy Diary | Flower Power (Vinyl) | Hello Horse (Trophy) | Mellow Moods (Essential Oils Tray) || Felixandre: Colonial | Kyoto (Arch) | Soho || Harrie: Klean | Octave Collection | Shop The Look V2 | Spoons (Pizza Tray) | Stockholm || House Of Harlix: Baysic Bathroom | Baysic Set | Livin'Rum | The Kichen (Plant) | Tiny Twavellers (Wall) || KKB-MM: Citrus Room | My Heimish Hall || LittleDica: Delicato Living | Greasy Goods | Lava Lamp | Sleek Slumber || Max20: Classic Kitchen | Garden At Home | Master Bedroom | Poolside Lounge (Plant) || MyshunoSun: Gale Dining | Lottie Bedroom | Simmify | Sona Dining || Peacemaker-ic: Hinterland Kitchen (Honey Pot) | Hudson Bathroom (Towel Holder) | Tasteful Tots (Clutter) || Pierisim: Auntie Vera | Calderone Living | Coldbrew | Combles | David Apartment | Domaine Du Clos | MCM House Set | Oak House Set | Pantry Party | The Office | Tilable Kitchen | Unfold | Woodland Ranch || Simkoos: Clutter Dump || Sixam-CC: Art Studio | Cozy Family Livingroom | Home Improvement || SurelySims: Office Spaces (Clutter)

The CC Sets above are the main ones I used to decorate this specific building and you can find all the links to the creators’ sites on my Resource Page. However, if you can’t find something specific, you can send me a WCIF and I’ll try to help you find it!

My content will always be free and right away available to everyone, but if you want to, you can show your support through my Ko-Fi Page. Your donation will always be much appreciated!

Thank you for reblogging: @maxismatchccworld @mmoutfitters @mmfinds @s4realtor @coffee-houses-finds and everyone else for helping me boost this post!

[mrs-elsie-barnes]

Omega Ours - Part 1 | Alpha!Cassian x Alpha!Nesta x Omega!Reader| Short Series 2.7k

After fighting your way out of every potential mating offered to you, your village sends you off with the High Lord. Rhysand, tired of dealing with the Alphas living in the House of Wind, gifts you to Cassian and Nesta in the hopes that it'll settle all three of you down.

Warnings: 18+ sexual content, language & themes. Omegaverse dynamics including Alpha & Omega and the sexist assumptions/implications that go along with it, heat/heat cycles, forced proximity, d/s themes, only one bed (and only one chaise), lots of tropey tropes! No use of YN but liberal use of pet names.

Divider by @firefly-graphics & @reveriesources

Cassian & Nesta - from Pinterest

Created for @polyacotarweek - prompt 5 faveourite tropes (Omegaverse, only one bed, forced proximity, sort of insta-love)

Part 2 will be posted on the 13 (Free day!) follow @illyrianlibrary for updates ❤️

Part 2 | Masterlist | Poly Fics | Cassian

The only way to describe the couple stood before you was - handsome. 

The High Lord and Lady who’d brought you here were beautiful, elegant. But this couple could only be described as handsome, strong, Alpha. 

You knew them, of course. General Cassian of the Nightcourt and his mate, Lady Nesta. Lord of Bloodshed and Lady Death, they’d called them in the camps that circled the Illyrian villages like pilot fish on a shark.  

“I’ve brought you a present,” Rhysand drawled, pointing at you. “Well, it’s a favour and a present. The last unmated omega of the season. She's  from the Western Isles, I thought it might help to tamp down your behaviour if you two had a project.” He grinned and you turned to look at Nesta and Cassian again. 

It was true, you’d rejected every mate offered to you, bitten some of them, in your desperation to get away, and that’s how you’d lost your freedom. Fighting the boys from the village was one thing, fighting an Illyrian was another. They’d hauled you into the camp in front of the High Lord on his last visit and demanded compensation. 

Rhysand, ever flush with jewels and gold, had paid them and then had a set of cuffs and leathers made for you. Nightcourt black velvet, red stitching and silver buckles. But restraints were still restraints, no matter how soft they felt against your wrists and ankles. He’d had new clothes made for you as well, traditional sheer panels of matching blood red that hung in gossamer curtains down your legs, pooling around you as you were forced to your knees in front of the Lady and General. 

“I don’t know what you mean,” Nesta studied her nails, her air bored but her eyes kept flickering towards you. 

“Come now, Nesta, we both know you and Cassian caused quite the stir the last time you were both in heat.” 

You were right then, you could smell it on them anyway, that raw power and strength that designated them as Alpha. 

“Still -  you want us to take care of your problems?” Nesta huffed. 

“Of course not, she’s a gift, for you and Cass, if you happen to tame her enough that she stops mauling my men then that’s a bonus.” 

You looked between them, it was undeniable how attractive they were. Better than the mud caked idiots from the village at least, but you still railed against the hand that dragged you back to your feet. 

Cassian kept his hand under your elbow, pinching your cheeks with his other hand. “Come on, Nes. She’s cute, isn’t she?” He angled your face up towards his mate. 

Nesta shrugged one shoulder and you snarled, snapping at Cassian’s fingers. 

“Feisty,” he gave a deep chuckle, “I like that, that’s how Nes and I got together.” He hauled you over his shoulder, your legs and arms dangling, the panels of your dress slipping dangerously. 

“Put me down!” You beat your fists on his back. 

“Should have thought of that before you tried to bite me,” he teased, jostling you. 

You scowled at Nesta, who followed, laughing, through the halls of the palace and then tried using the only knowledge you had about the Illyrians. You reached out and grabbed his wing, squeezing as tightly as you could. 

He growled back, the sound travelling up through his chest into yours, vibrating your very core. 

“You want to play rough? Good.” 

Cassian shouldered a heavy door open and suddenly the sweeping corridor was gone and a dark, warm room wrapped itself around you. 

The walls were an oxblood red with thick velvet curtains that lay heavily in front of the eternally open windows. The soft jasmine breeze that circulated through the house was mixed with the cleaner scent of mountain air and the crackling of a fire, rich and inviting. 

The general set you down, his gaze travelling slowly down your figure. He clenched his jaw and then instantly turned to his mate, cupping her cheeks in his large hands and kissing her roughly. She growled in response, leaning into his embrace and allowing him to lift her against his body. You watched as he carried her across the room to an open archway, almost hidden behind a large tapestry, and then they vanished again. 

Tentatively, as much as you could with the thin chain connecting your ankles, you crept across the room to the curtain, now brushed back and curling heavily on the polished floor. 

Nesta and Cassian were tangled on the bed, the heady scent of their arousal lay thick in the air, the bedsheets already rumpled as if they’d been interrupted before, the room in disarray. 

On both bedside tables there were stacks of books of various genres, a pitcher of water on one and dagger on the other. 

“Either come in or go,” Nesta groused from the bed, hair messy, one of Cassian’s hands still tangled in the long golden-brown strands. 

“Play nice, Nes.” The general laughed, biting at Nesta’s earlobe. “You can join us or you can sleep,” he said over his shoulder. 

Sure enough there was a small chaise made up with blankets at the end of the bed. You shuffled over, and fell heavily onto the soft cushions listening to the sound of their love making. Each grunt and moan made you press your thighs together harder. Each stifled sigh had your hands twitching, itching for something more. You may have rejected every attempt at a mating, but you weren’t completely without feeling, without desire and needs and lust. 

You lifted your hands to cover your ears, the chain between them digging into the bridge of your nose, and fell into a confused sleep. 

 You awoke to the sound of moving bodies and cloth dragging on the floor. 

“She’s asleep, let her rest, Cas.” 

“What if she’s cold?” The footsteps came closer and you tensed on instinct. The steps stopped, but a gentle weight floated down on you, a large cotton blanket, awash with their scent, settled. 

“I’m going to wash,” Nesta’s voice faded as she walked away but there was no other movement. 

“I know you’re awake.” His voice was loud in your ear, closer than you’d expected and you jumped again, almost sliding from the chaise. Cassian’s arm caught you, tight around your waist and his bareskin was so warm against your own. You cracked one eye open and looked around the room as best you could with his wings blocking out the faint candlelight.

His arm was speckled with tiny scars that twinkled against his tan skin, the hair that decorated his forearm was as dark as the long tendrils that brushed over his shoulders and this close, his chin almost resting on your own arm, he smelt heavenly. That mixture of his own scent and Nesta’s even stronger in his proximity and, no doubt, enhanced by their earlier activities. 

“If you want, you can borrow some clothes.” His voice was a sleepy rumble and you resisted the urge to let your omega instincts take over and push yourself back into his chest, seek out that warmth, that comfort - but you didn’t respond. 

The sound of running water in the other room stopped, replaced with the gentle pad of Nesta’s footsteps and then she was in front of you. Surrounded by them again you had to fight back every urge to give in to her wicked mouth, her lips plump and kiss bitten. 

“We’ve left you some things on the chair, choose what you will. If you want to join us on the bed, you can.” Nesta moved away taking Cassian with her and you assumed from the gentle rustle of sheets they were back in bed. 

The chair that sat opposite their grand fireplace was strewn with clothes, silky looking negligees and billowing linen shirts, some cotton leggings and a pair of woollen socks. 

Waiting a moment, hoping they weren’t looking, you rose from the chaise and rushed for the chair. The translucent dress the High Lord had had you wear left your skin cold and bare, exposed and vulnerable. Cassian’s shirt was a welcome relief, covering your body from view, although the two slits in the back for his wings did feel slightly odd. The socks were warm and fluffy, long enough to reach almost to your knees. Redressed, you turned to return to your chaise and tugged the blanket up to your chin. 

You didn’t really want to spend the entire night there, but you also refused to give in to the ridiculousness of the situation. No one chose your mate, or mates, for you and you’d rather sleep on the tiny chaise that allow anyone to take that choice from you. 

Thankfully, Nesta and Cassian had turned away, the Illyrian’s large wings spread over the bed,. Shielding his mate from view? Or stopping her from following you around the room with her silver stare? You weren’t sure, but you were grateful as you closed your eyes. 

It was only as you were falling asleep that you realised you were snuggled into the shirt, inhaling Cassian’s scent, and by then it was too late, you were tumbling into your dreams. 

The next morning Cassian and Nesta were gone, but someone had left a tray of food, a pot of tea and a stack of books on the table. The doors to the balcony were open and the jasmine wind blew the curtains back so invitingly you couldn’t resist. 

You were halfway through one of the books they’d left, something by Sellyn Drake that had far more smut in it than you were anticipating. A slice of buttered toast was stuck halfway to your mouth as you stared transfixed at the page, when the door opened. Cassian held the door for Nesta, taking a long sword from her hand and placing it on the table that was perpetually strewn with weapons. His own sword and daggers followed and the two of them began to strip out of their leathers. 

There had been a rumour that Nesta trained alongside the Lord of Bloodshed and the Shadowsinger, trained with other women as well, but you hadn’t thought to believe it until now. 

Her leathers were tight against skin, a sheen of sweat making her sparkle, her long hair was tied up in what was now a messy ponytail and, most surprising of all, she was smiling broadly at Cassian. He returned the smile, cupping her cheek and pulling her in for a kiss, his hands wandering down to the buckles and clasps that held her fighting leathers together. 

Cassian looked equally as powerful, his own armour dark against his tanned skin, his tattoos flowing under the leather before appearing again at his collar bone and trailing over his shoulders towards the vast wings at his back. You set the book down slowly, the lust filled scene already had you feeling hot under Cassian’s shirt even before they appeared. 

The movement caught his eye and he turned, taking Nesta with him and pinning her against his chest. They way they looked at you, like the most delicious prey, had you pressing your legs together. You wouldn’t give in to this, especially not when it was exactly what that smug prick of a High Lord wanted. 

“Good morning, sweetheart,” he cooed, “Would you like to join us?” 

It was Nesta who held her hand out, crooking her finger to coax you forward. “We’re going to bathe, the tub is large enough for three, come.” It was more a demand than a question and, though you longed to see how far down Cassian’s tattoos went and how Nesta would look covered in bubbles, you resisted again. 

With a shake of your head you went back to your book, trying to ignore the sound of them together through the wall. 

You fell into a rhythm, the three of you. Nesta and Cassian continued as they were, training, working in the library and attending meetings, and inviting you to join them whenever they were together. 

Your nights on the chaise were becoming increasingly uncomfortable, but you refused to be worn down by their requests, preferring to stay silent and read alone either on the balcony or by the fire. No amount of reading could drown out the sound of their love making, though. If you could call it that, judging by the bruises both of them sported proudly and the way their headboard banged against the stone wall. 

Despite your protests their allure was difficult to ignore, their playful banter, the care and attention they showed each other, even the way they whispered in bed, dissecting the day's events and, on a few occasions, discussing you. 

This only happened when you were pretending to sleep heavily, breathing slow and steady as you wished for dreams to take you. 

“Nes, did you see the way my shirt fit her today, rolling up her thighs-” Cassian had made a deep, guttural noise, only to be shushed by Nesta. 

“Yes, Cas, stop, she’s right over there.” Nesta hissed in return. 

“I know, God, she’s so fucking close, don’t you think she smells good?” 

“You know I do.” The sheets rustled and you heard Nesta whimper as a wave of arousal flooded you. They could smell you, you knew it and you couldn’t stop it. 

Sleeping in their room, bathed in their scent every day, surrounded by their things, it was like a huge nest and the longer you lingered here the more you wanted to give in and climb into their bed, to be between them and allow them to care for you.

You knew something had changed when you woke up drenched in sweat. As usual, Nesta and Cassian had already left the room, your breakfast arranged in its spot, clothes laid out for you. They’d started adding some new things, items that smelt like neither of them, clean linen and lavender, but you were still drawn to their items the most. Perhaps, it was the way they smiled when they saw you cuddling into one of Cassian’s shirts or standing on the balcony in one of Nesta’s dresses. But you refused to confront that feeling. 

Despite your long, cold, bath you still felt hot and uncomfortable. It was mid way through stripping off your linen trousers that Nesta reappeared. She moved with a preternatural grace that you were sure existed well before her sister’s ascent to High Lady. A smoothness to each turn of her hand, or extension of her arm, she made walking seem like a dance and you were transfixed.  

Nesta stopped as soon as she saw you, her nostrils flared, almost imperceptibly.

“Are you okay?” she asked in that cool, silvery voice. 

“Yes,” your voice felt hoarse. You barely spoke and had gone days without saying anything to either of them, merely existing in their presence. But now, locked by her gaze, there was no escaping. 

“You seem -” she weighed her words carefully, “unwell.” 

“I can assure you, I’m fine.” You took a half step towards the balcony doors, hoping the breeze would cool your skin. 

Nesta hummed, surveying you from head to toe. “I’d feel better if you got into bed.” 

You knew this was as persuasive as Nesta could be, a simple request made in the lowest of tones, an argument not worth having. 

“I-” 

“The bed.” She crossed the room swiftly and turned you towards the large, velvet draped bed that took up a large portion of the room. Since your first entrance into Nesta and Cassian’s suite, you’d done your best to avoid even looking at it. Now there was no escape.

Your hands were shaking, a tingling heat rising from your spine and coiling in your stomach. On this occasion, just once, you’d listen to her. “Fine.” With great difficulty, you pulled the shirt over your head and dropped it to the floor. You were so tired. When had you become so tired?

Nesta’s deft fingers grasped your chin, holding you still so she could look at your pupils, large and frightened. “Get in bed and go to sleep,” she insisted, and you obeyed. 

Part 2

[venusincleo]

Time. ii. [Aaron Pierre]

Part One [i].

Warnings: MDNI • Explicit • Aaron Pierre x Black!Reader, teasing, edging, tiny bit of impact play, fingering (fem receiving), p in v, creampie, DDLG kink/BDSM (bondage), self!insert, close third POV and more...

Summary: You and Aaron have been in a long distance relationship for three months, as you reside in your cozy home in Seattle, and he stays in Los Angeles for work. Only ever having a quick day trip for quality time between your busy schedules, a long awaited break comes up on both of your calendars; three days and two nights at the end of a long week. Finally having the opportunity to see each other face to face, you enjoy a weekend of deeper, more intimate moments.

Word Count: 4.8k❣

A/N: I got a couple other ideas for this mini series in the tuck... so tell me how you like Part Two 🤭🤍

• • •

In the deep of the night, a single sliver of champagne light glows from the cracked bathroom door adjacent to your bed. As your eyes flutter all the way open at the sight of such a stark contrast to your dark bedroom, a lingering cool fills the empty space beside you. 

You glance at this lack, seeing disheveled sheets and you rub the sleep from your eyes to recount the events of the night that led you to such a deep slumber. Almost instantly, you are reminded of your short session with Aaron from the night before. He had you screaming to the top of your lungs with how nastily he was devouring your pussy, and you came twice, from just his mouth and his fingers. 

Now you lay here alone as he seemingly freshened up, his last words of the night filling your mind. 

“Imma let you rest, but we’re not done, princess.” 

As his return to your bed took longer than you thought it would, you reached to your bedside table to turn on your lamp. In the dim glow of the golden light, you tap the middle of your phone screen to be met with your favorite picture of yourself. Once blue light pushed through the space surrounding your small device, you navigated to the control center to adjust your brightness before you looked at the time. 1:33. 

Shuffling sounds echo through the bathroom and then, the light switch clicks off. Soon the gorgeous statue of a man that you called yours was stepping back into the room and a smile played at your lips. 

“Hi beautiful.” His tone is husky due to him catching some z’s right beside you, and heat rises in your face at the sound. 

“Hi, Papa.” A hum strums from the depth of his throat as he looks at your naked body, barely shielded by the covers that you’ve since pushed off of you. You take this time to examine his body as well, your eyes traveling down his honey-toned athletic build. Following his v-cut and happy trail your eyes navigate all the way down to the black fabric of his Calvin Klein briefs. Sooo fine.

Aaron watches your eyes as they trail back up to his, and a grin tugs at the edge of his lips. 

“Like what you see, princess?” He already knew the answer to that.

“Yes.”

“Then come here.” You quickly process your prompted movements, and your feet carry you out of bed and in front of his tall frame. One of his hands reaches down for yours, and brings it to his peck, his warmth undeniably comforting yet taunting to your core. 

He guides his hand to all the places your eyes just scanned, and then he glares into your eyes with those threatening leo orbs. 

“Below the waist is off limits, understand?” Your eyes damn near glow with the boundary he sets, as you realize you have your own little power over him. A smug grin raises your cheeks, and you bat your pretty eyelashes in his direction.

“Yes, sir.” Sensing the inkling of sass in your silken tone, Aaron bites his lip as he removes his hold on your hand to allow you free reign. Eye contact still strong, you run your hands over his pecks yet again, slower this time, as you let your manicured fingertips graze his nipples just lightly. 

Your palms are heated now, as they run along his nice skin, rippling over his hard abs and up the side of his torso.

Four challenging eyes peer between each other, as you both pondered on what you would do next. As your hands explore the sensitive skin of his neck and then the back of his head, Aaron smiles at you playing one of the only cards you had so soon. But you would learn more of his spots this weekend, you were sure of it.

Him knowing what you would do didn’t change the effect it had on him though, and his breath hitched in his throat as your hands rubbed the nape of his neck in circles. Your other hand palpates his toned abdomen as you hear his stuttered breathing continue. 

Suddenly, his strong hands grasp onto your ass, pulling you into his body with the force at which he squeezes at your flesh. A breathy moan leaves your lips as your eyebrows furrow at the sensation of his firm grip, eyes still connected. Now that he’s handling you just the way you like, Aaron can tell you were more than ready for what he had to give you.

With his hungry, lasting kiss to your full lips, you can feel your nectar easing from your center, and slowly beginning to drip down your thigh. You suck at Aaron’s bottom lip as he moans lightly at the unexpected feeling, allowing you to go on as you pleased. Once you returned to his lips for a passionate lip-lock, he appeased you and raised his hands to deliver a synced smack to both of your ass cheeks. A gasp leaves your lips at the divine sting that met your thick flesh and Aaron looks at you knowingly. 

“Stay right here.” 

His hands leave you cooling against the room’s lax temperature, your patience beginning to run thin as the sting he left radiates still. Soft thuds of his feet against your hardwood floors carry him to your dresser where his bag is still open with easy access to his satin bag of toys. He pulls a thick leather collar from the bag and glances over to your nightstand to see that he left the matching wrist cuffs near your bed. 

You watch intently as he takes his time to gather his toys for you, your body on fire from head to toe at the thought of him touching you again. You nearly reach for your pearl to soothe its throbbing but you remember your rule, and your hands tremble with anticipation. Your mind is simply no help, as you try and predict what else will happen tonight, visions of where else Aaron hasn’t touched yet flash behind your eyes. A gloss sets over your sight, and your breath grows short in your waiting. 

Aaron places the collar over his hand momentarily as he walks over to you with the leather cuffs, quickly unbuckling them to make way for your empty wrists. Just as your head begins to lighten, your breathing grows slow and shallow. Recognizing the gloss of your eyes, he realizes that you have begun floating off into subspace and he reaches his hand to your face to bring you right back down.

“Not yet, baby. Look at me.” His thumb caresses your cheek as your searching eyes meet his, focusing on his intense glare. His eyes drop to your lips momentarily, and then he grabs both of your hands and places them in front of your belly.

“I need you to breathe, three seconds in, three seconds out. Let me hear you.” Your shoulders rise and fall gently as you bring air in through your nose. One…two…three. And then exhale. One…two…three. 

Once he witnesses you take three steady, deep breaths, he starts to wrap the cuffs around one wrist at a time, mindful of the tightness of the first one so that the restraint would be balanced. After both cuffs are on, he glanced his softened eyes into yours, as he opened the collar and put it around your neck. As he puts the end of the strap through the buckle, he leans down and kisses your cheek, and then, he speaks.

“Tell me when to stop.” Slowly but surely, he pulls the strap further through the buckle, and you can feel the pressure on your throat heighten. Your breath gets caught on the second to last notch of the strap, and your fingers press into the leather that is cuffed around your wrists.

“Stop.” You whimper, alerting Aaron of which hole to feed the buckle through. He pulls the strap from the buckle just slightly, and feeds the prong through the third to last hole, ensuring your comfort and then, he reaches a hand up to your face yet again.

Another light thumb to your plush skin sends feather light tingles to your temple, and your eyes flutter in levity. 

“Your hands stay above your head unless I tell you to move, do you understand me?” 

“Yes, sir.”

With that, he takes his hand from your face, and hooks his forefinger around the chain of your cuffs, pushing you backward until you bump into your bed. Unyielding, he pushes you further until your legs give way to the firm mattress and you fall back into the plush bedding atop it. 

Almost instantly, you obey his instruction and move your restricted hands to the space above your head, watching for what Aaron had in store. His sure hands lift your legs slightly, bending them on either side of your hips as he sees the glistening treasure between your plump thighs. He sends a lick over his full bottom lip, remembering how he lapped you up just hours ago. Though he wasn’t going to make the mistake of getting too wrapped up in the indulgence that seeped from your yearning, he did want a taste. 

Bringing a finger to the trail of your essence that dripped down your thigh, he collected just a small sample, bringing it to his tongue to savor. A moan left his lips at the sweet, natural taste and he could feel his dick growing in his briefs. 

“You taste so fucking good, baby.” He teasingly sucked the rest of you from his own skin, and then he stepped back, taking in the sight of your bare body, all prepped and exposed for his pleasure. 

“Hmm.” He hums in observation of the natural lubrication that dripped from you still.

“You know what I learned about you, yesterday?”

Aaron’s deep English accent taunts you ever-so-lightly. A burning deep in your core doesn’t allow you to look away from him as he stands at the edge of your bed, hands at his sides. Cool air circulates around your heated, throbbing clit, clinging to the slick that has eased from your opening.

His shadowed eyes turn an oceanic blue as he steps forward and sets a knee beside your body, leaning down just slightly. You see his hand go for your sensitive folds and your eyes begin to flutter closed at the thought of him touching you. Feeling you up, inside and out, rubbing your climax out of you.

A moan leaves your lips as you feel the heat radiating from his palm and just as you exhale the deep breath that previously filled your lungs, you realize that he isn’t even touching you. Your glossy brown eyes open to meet the deliberate man before them as your fingers grip onto the leather cuffs along your wrists. Fuck. 

Aaron’s eyes are low with desire as he watches you squirm against your bedding at just the thought of contact. A pointed grin of his closed lips matched with his shadowy orbs made his gaze so tantalizing. And he knew it.

“Mhm.” He hums cockily, moving his hand from where it was still hovering over you. Getting back off of your bed, he steps back to view you clearer, glazed over eyes planning his next moves.

“You like when I play in this pretty pussy, huh?” In small, delicate touches, his knuckles caress your thighs menacingly close to your quivering sensitivity, causing a whimpering breath to leave your lips. No words could come to the surface of your mind as you held on to the last pieces of it you had left. 

He liked to see you this way; barely able to grasp a thought, let alone speak it. It was the whole point of his plan: to fuck you senseless in every sense of the word.

Determined to continue, he moved his hands from your body for a moment, and walked around the side of your bed. A large hand reached to the dangling handle of the leash attached to your collar, and held it loosely as he crouched down beside you. You weren’t sure of what was next, so you just looked in front of you, waiting for some direction.

“Look at me, princess.” 

You turn your head toward him willfully, your lowered eyes trailing from his large lips to the windows of his soul. Every inch of him was so beautiful it was hard for you to keep focus. 

With a taut, yet intentional hold on your leash, Aaron pulls you closer to him, until you are both just hairs away from the other’s lips. He leans in as if he is about to kiss you, but his mouth just sits atop yours in a way that would be awkward if you weren’t already so desperate to feel the contact.

“You didn’t answer me, baby-girl. And I don’t like repeating myself.” He breaths against you, as he tugs on your collar. As you lick over your lips, you breathe him in through your nose. 

“Yes.”

“Yes, what, baby? I need to hear you say it.” Though you are too close to him to see his full smile, you can feel his lips raise against yours and you shiver at his control.

“Yes, I like when you play in this pretty pussy, Papa.” Aaron takes a deep breath, as he bites his lip at the sight of yours. Plump, perfectly two-toned, ready for him.

“Good girl.” His free hand guides your chin down so that he can kiss you properly, a short, triumphant battle of his lips against yours. Then, his hand trails down your neck, brushes past one of your nipples and lovingly caresses your belly before it lands below your hips at the spot you needed him most.

Lax, only for a moment on his overarching teasing session, Aaron strokes your clit with his middle and ring fingers, effectively tending to the ache you had begun to feel. A certain pulling, needing, yearning begins at your core, and though he had just started, you could feel your climax rolling in quick.

“Oh, shit.” You moan, your chest heaving up and down as the pleasure is fast-tracked through every vein, in every limb of your body. As Aaron continues stroking his thick fingers through your enhanced moisture, your eyebrows turn upward at the overwhelm, your thighs snapping shut instinctively.

He didn’t miss a beat of anything your body was saying. His intent glare left the space between your thighs, which was covered now, to meet your pretty little love-face. 

“I need you to open your legs, baby.” He coached you, gently being sure to keep his cool. It was clear between the two of you that this was your first time exploring a relationship like this and he didn’t want to punish you until you knew exactly what you were doing, and the consequences that your actions came with.

Panting breaths sound from your lips as you try to gather yourself, opening your legs in slow motion. The feeling of his fingers still on your pussy was enough to make you cum right now, but you stay as composed as you possibly can, wanting to hear him tell you that you could.

His fingers begin to circle your clit yet again, and this time you breathe deeply through this feeling, your back naturally arching as he took you all the way to your oblivion. Strategically, Aaron begins to let go of the leash, kissing down your chest and swirling his warm tongue along the sensitive skin as you try to keep it together. Your eyes roll back as full, melodic moans fly from your mouth at his efforts. Nothing has ever felt as good as his hands and tongue on you. Nothing.

“Oh my Goddd…” You call out, your body beginning to convulse with your imminent waterfall. Just as quickly as you had made it to the edge, Aaron’s soft voice was threatening you to step back from it.

“Mnh, mnh. You better not cum, hold that shit Y/N.” As he stopped his tender hand from stroking against your folds, you let out a weary breath. Slow, torturous kisses played at your breast that was closest to his lips, and as he laid his flat tongue against your nipple, you bit at your bottom lip. That motherfucker. 

“Hm’my God, Papa.” You purr, a moan lacing your lips as he begins to suck at your plush bosom. Feeling your pulsating clit along his fingers, Aaron lightens his hand on you, teasing an airy finger along the silhouette of your plump pussy lips. Popping your boob out of his mouth, he looks into your eyes with nothing but desire. 

“Mmh,” He gravels in his low rasp. “You ready for this dick, princess?” 

You nod your head quickly, though you know he wants words, but when you open your lips to answer, all you can give is a trembling moan. With a dark laugh, his large fingers are back at your clit, rubbing you to your end. A drawn out moan fills the air around you as you close your eyes, taking in the continued dopamine hit. 

Like clockwork, your body begins chasing that zenith that you were told not to go towards, and your hips grind into the fingers of the man pleasing you. The extra friction with his steadily moving fingers causes you to turn your head to the side, hiding your blissful face with your arm. This time, even with every whimper and every fractal of breath, Aaron continues to caress your burning core, watching your torso as your lungs expand with air, and then contract on your release. 

“That’s right, cum for Papa.” He coaxed, not breaking the rhythm he had as fingers grew stickier with your natural elixir. Once you got your permission, it was like your body pulled from reservoirs and released every ounce you could muster. Your legs trembled as you cried out for more? Less? You didn’t really know. Everything was so blurry now, your eyes barely open as you continued to drip your juices all on Aaron’s willing hand. 

His hand coated in your clear honey now, he stroked your clit a few more times, and then, he stood from where he had crouched beside your bed. Looking down at just how spent you were, he gives you a moment of breath as he walks around your mattress, making sure to grab a pillow as he makes his way to meet your hips. 

Silently, he sat the pillow beside you, and used his free hand to hook a thumb into the side of his briefs. He pushed the dark fabric off of his hips slowly and stepped out of them when they circled his feet, letting his thick, long shaft make its introduction to the room. Just as you caught your breath, he brought his slick covered hand to his girth, stroking his dick with the lubrication of your essence.

With a soft, breathy moan at the sensation against his rock hard growth, he continued readying himself for what he was about to do. When your eyes finally flutter open after processing such a steep climax, you are met with the view of him stroking himself zealously. He had to be about 8 inches…maybe more? Definitely more.

“Oh, fuck.” You curse yourself for being so ready for it earlier. For a moment he makes note of your reaction, and a faint grin tugs at his lips as he watches your eyes follow his hand up and down his length. He frees his hand to handle you just a bit, turning you to your side so that he can position your pillow underneath your hips to match the height of his, his muscles flexing with the movement.

Once you are positioned perfectly for his intention, he steps closer to you and lays his warm shaft along your abdomen. A breath hitches in your throat at his size in comparison to you, and you tense just slightly though you are curious, and needy. A bad combination.

“No need to be nervous, baby-girl. You know I’m gonna take good care of you.” His hands trail up to your thighs, rubbing his thumbs along the plump flesh in an attempt to pull you back in. Aaron’s eyes soften as he watches your body calm under his touch, and he can’t help but bite his lip at the delight he felt in being able to do that for you. Creating and calming your storms.

“Use that safeword if you need to.” His voice is velvety in its depth, assuring you that he would only take tonight as far you wanted it to go. With lowered, adoring eyes, you nod your head as your center yearns to feel him now.

“Yes, sir.” You nearly whisper. A deep breath raises Aaron’s shoulders as he keeps his mind together despite the sounds you make for him. On his exhale, he trails his heavy hands up your thighs to meet the bend of your legs, holding you in place for the unforeseeable night. 

Acute breaths sing through your lips as you await Aaron’s penetration. Angling himself at your wet entrance, he pushes forward, feeling your warmth envelop him until the give of your walls becomes unyielding. 

“Ugh, fuck.” He moans heartily, a jump in his stomach alerting him of the effects of your juicy, wet pussy. 

The pressure of him begging at a depth you hadn’t had in too long causes a certain levity to reach your legs and they begin trembling in his hold as you groan at the feeling. He just stays there though, stroking half of his length into your tightness, his dark eyes gazing at the way your slick covered his dick. 

“So tight around me, baby.” He breathes out, his chest rising and falling slowly as he regulates himself, seeking a slower pace than what his body was agreeing to. Your wetness sounds around his thick shaft, his soft thrusts readying you for even more of his length. 

As soon as you feel like you can take more, you try to control your moans so you can request what you need in your nicest voice possible.

“Deeper, Papa.” A moan follows your demand, and then your pussy squelches around his lovely thickness. “Please.” 

Hesitantly, Aaron takes in your body’s reaction to him, and as he sees the true bliss your body is in, he fulfills your request, slowly though. As he goes just an inch or so deeper, he watches as you release a throaty moan, loving how he felt inside you. A couple more inches, a couple more pants at how he is filling you up so easily. And then as he gives you all of him, you clench your teeth over your bottom lip, your eyebrows upturned as you muffle a groan at the pressure.

He strokes slowly, trying to allow you to get used to him, but as he sees your face relax again, and your hips begin to rock into him just a little, he goes a bit faster. The heightened speed with his gentle, deep strokes was enough to have your eyes rolling to the back of your head yet again. The little pinch of pain at his size was driving you just a little wild.

“Ahhh, mmh.” You cried out, a moan reaching your lips as tears welled in your eyes at the many different sensations of the night. Aaron was steady breathing hard at the intensity of your tightness clamping around him, huffing out a husky moan here and there. He was definitely enjoying himself, but your soft cries had him worried he was going too deep too quickly. The last thing either of you needed was for him to damage something.

“Tell me how it feels, baby.” He squeezes at your thighs for stability as he feels a telling levity in his core. A silken moan is all you can muster at first, and then you look ahead of you at his piercing gaze.

“Mm, hurts…so good, Papa.” As if your words gave him permission to feel the full extent of his pleasure, his shoulders drop as he feels himself twitch within your walls. His plump pink lips part to release a hearty, drawn out moan and he continues stroking to your continued gratification.

“Ohh, shit.” He can only keep it together for a couple more steady strokes, then he gets a little sloppy as expletives fall from his lips in an attempt to hold on just a little more. Aaron could tell that it’s only a couple minutes, if that, until he releases his load, so he brings a thumb to your clit, rubbing softly to get you right where he is. 

You squirm at the added pleasure, and soon, those tears that were glossing your eyes overflowed onto your temples as you threw your head back. 

“Fuckkk!” You scream out, your eyebrows furrowed as Aaron digs every bit of this orgasm out of you. Every last stroke is accentuated with each of your breathy, succinct moans and his abdomen expands as he watches his honey-tan dick get coated in your glorious juices, and his trimmed pubic hair is decorated in the musky luster. 

“Papa…” Your whisper is hoarse, as an uncontrollable wave of emotions comes over you. Your whole body moves in tandem with the breath that dances through your body, and then it exits through your lips, shakily. 

“Go’ head and let it go, baby. I won’t stop until I get all of it.” Your chest warms at the accented vowels in his speech, and you heed his instruction, focusing on nothing else but him and your nut. Rendered speechless from the snug feeling of his thick shaft between your wetness, you begin to shake, your hips bucking forward as pure energy shoots through you.

“That’s it princess, give it to me.” Aaron coos, rubbing his thumbs in circles along your tender skin. Another breath in is all it takes for your love to come down, sticking to both of you like glue. 

Unable to contain himself, Aaron shoots his warm load into you, his groans loud and gruff. He thrusts forward a few more times as he empties himself, made even more sensitive by your continued whimpering. When he finally pulls out, the combined evidence of both of your pleasure eases out of your opening, causing you to moan softly. 

Breathing heavily as he gathers himself, he takes a moment to walk into your on-suite bathroom and begin a bath for you, using your Dr. Teals Lavender soap. 

You lie there, the distant noise of the running water hitting the ceramic of the tub, lulling you to a calm space. You were already exhausted, and your legs were beginning to throb lightly at how long you’d had them in the same position. 

Aaron walked back into your bedroom with a purposeful stride, stopping at the side of your bed to tend to your obvious needs. He takes the connecting chain between your leather cuffs and pulls you to sit up gently, undoing the collar first and setting it on the bedside table behind him. Then, he gives you a soft once over before he focuses on the small straps on your wrists, unbuckling them as quick as possible and setting them on the bedside table as well. 

He sits down beside you and brings both hands to your face, wiping away the wet streams of tears that fell. Quietly, he places a soft-hearted kiss on both of your cheeks and then on your lips, his gentleness bringing a whole other level of comfort to your mind. As you pull away from the kiss, you wrap your weakened arms around his neck, and he nestles his face in yours as he litters your skin with barely-there kisses. His large hands expand across your back, and he rubs them along your skin, lovingly. 

“You were such a good girl for me, baby.” He tilts his chin down to kiss your shoulder and you move your hands down to caress his shoulders and back, to which he hums in satisfaction. Eager, passionate kisses are delivered from his lips to yours as you rub his back, realizing that you had indeed found another spot of his.

“You’ ready for your bath?” He asks against your lips. You nod your head slowly, giving him a last peck until you are lifted in his strong hold. With a sigh of happiness in reminiscence of the whole night, you lay your head on his shoulder as you get ready to be taken care of by your gentle, dominant giant.

• • •

I do not condone any translations, replications or plagarisms of my original work. Please do not repost as your own. Reblogs and comments/notes welcome. ♥︎

• • •

༓TAGLIST༓

@userthatlovessmut32 @blyffe @ms-mosley-ifunastyyy

*let me know if you want to be added to the ongoing taglist in the comments*

[theidiotwhowritesthings]

Take Care of You [10]

Sugar Daddy!Joel Miller x Female!Reader

Overall Warnings: slow burn, angst/comfort, power imbalance, age gap, possessive tendencies, eventual smut, #daddyissues, independent reader learns to let go and relax, emotionally constipated Joel Miller learns to be vulnerable; (more specific warnings to be added to individual chapters if necessary)

Chapter Word Count: 5.7k

Mood board and borders by @saradika

Summary: You spent your entire adult life supporting yourself and barely getting by. It’s why a life of ease offered to you by a mysterious stranger sounded so foreign and unbelievable. Joel Miller, dressed in flannels that had seen better days, didn’t look like the kind who could promise you the world on a plate, but he seemed desperate to help out. All he asks is that you let him take care of you. That wouldn’t be so hard. Would it?

[A/N: 🤡. I came back to life to immediately die off again i'm so sorry. here take this next part and all my love. speaking of my love, i already closed beta readers on tiktok but for anyone on here, if you wanna see why i've been so MIA, shoot me a message with your email if you wanna beta read my original work (i do ask that you do a questionnaire afterwards but that's just to help me out). But, imagine a scifi/fantasy where the book 'Six of Crows' meets 'The Last of Us', and I have good sources that y'all like TLOU👀]

[A/N pt.2: I did not edit this to the degree I should have and there is no tag list at the bottom i am so so so so sorry].

10: THE EVIDENCE IS PRETTY DAMNING

The ceiling wasn’t right. 

That was your first, foggy thought when your eyes opened. Rather than the bumpy, plaster speckles collecting dust it was smooth and off white. You slowly sat up with a groan, head spinning and mouth dry, and you blinked three times before your situation dawned on you. This was not your bed, not your house. Fuck. You set your hands on the bed to lean back then winced. With a hiss, you pulled your hand up and saw the bandaged injury from last night.

You cradled the hand with your other and turned to hang your legs over the edge of the bed. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed a note on the nightstand. You leaned over. There was a full water bottle and a bottle of tylenol resting on top of a piece of paper. On the paper, in scratchy, nearly illegible, writing was, ‘Come downstairs when you’re ready. Feel free to use the shower and change if you want. ⏤Joel’. You dragged your fingers to trace the words. 

With a shaky breath, you grabbed the water bottle and took a couple pills in hopes to nurse the aches and pains you felt. You stared at the words again. Last night, Joel admitted to being married to Sarah’s mom and you had responded by passing the fuck out. You had tried to argue, demand more information, but your body fought against your curiosity. All the drinks you had prior and the fading adrenaline from the fight probably hadn’t helped. 

You rose from the bed with a groan and crossed to use the bathroom adjoined to Joel’s bedroom. When you flicked the lights on, you took the first movement to glance around the space. The walls were beige with white tile floors. On one side was a large jacuzzi style tub next to an expansive walk in shower. On the other was ample counter space and drawers with matching him and her sinks. In the back was the small room where the toilet sat and beyond that a walk in closet. The space was lived in. A dirty clothes basket off to the side half full, toiletries on the counter and on the shelves in the shower, you spotted a pair of glasses you had never seen Joel wear resting by the sink on the right side of the counter. That must be the one Joel used most. A toothbrush sat by it and you noticed water by the rim like he hadn’t wiped up when finished.

Also on the counter were a stack of clothes, you stepped toward it and saw it was a t-shirt and pair of sweatpants that must have belonged to him. On top of it was a brand new toothbrush. Your gaze lifted to look at yourself in the mirror and you flinched. You looked a mess⏤ your hair, your clothes, everything. You rubbed at your face with a sigh and slipped into a morning time routine despite the unfamiliar setting. 

Celina.

The name rang in your head over and over and over again. It didn’t matter that you had been only half with it last night. You remembered that clearly. As you cleaned up, your headache began to improve and by time you left the bathroom you at least felt human again. A new anger bubbled just under your skin. You couldn’t quite yet put your anger into words, but you knew it was there. After washing up, you traded the clothes you wore to the bar for the ones Joel left you. The shirt was worn out, like it was aged, and navy in color. It read ‘Miller’s Contracting’ with a number on it for contact. It reminded you of the kind of shirt a small company would make and not a multi-million dollar one. You tightened the waistband of Joel’s sweatpants. They were at least joggers so you didn’t have to worry about tripping over yourself.

You crossed the upstairs, open space to the stairs. Faintly, you heard the sound of someone moving around downstairs. A brief wave of nervousness had you hesitating at the top of the stairs, but it slipped away back to anger. It seemed that was where your heart was making camp this morning.

Slowly, you descended the stairs. The wooden floors under your feet didn’t creak or make noise as you padded into the living room first. A few couches were situated in front of a wall that held a large flat screen TV and a fireplace. The back wall was made of glass, a window and door all in one that revealed the back patio where a small pool and deck were, and the space beside it was the kitchen. Just as open as the rest of Joel’s house. The cabinets were made of dark wood with matching countertops and at the center was a large island with chairs. 

On the island counter looked like to-go boxes of food. You stared at them a moment longer, but a door hidden just out of view on the wall in the kitchen opened. Joel stepped into the kitchen nonchalantly until he spotted you and did a double take. He froze and stared. The two of you were actually similarly dressed. He had on a t-shirt that looked tight on his broad shoulders and a pair of sweatpants that hung low on his hips. Joel looked exhausted.

“Hey.” He said softly. “Mornin’, sug⏤” Joel stopped himself, it looked like he choked on his words, but he locked his jaw and changed direction. “Mornin’. How did you sleep?” You gave a small shrug and a tight lipped smile. “Right. How’s your…” Joel lifted his own hand. “Your hand?”

You lifted it up to stare down at it. The bandages had been pulled away when you washed up this morning. It didn’t look so bad. “It’s fine. Thanks for the⏤ the tylenol. And the toothbrush. And the,” You motioned to the clothes hanging off your frame, “You know.”

“Can I?” Joel nodded toward you.

“I said, it’s fine, Joel.”

“I…” He sighed and the look in his eyes was agonizing. “I know you’re pissed at me. Understandably so. But, please let me…”

You walked over to sit down at one of the tall chairs at the island counter and set your hand on the marble top. Joel mumbled a quiet ‘thank you’ and disappeared for a quick second. He was back with a small first aid kit again. You twisted your lips when you felt his warm hand cautiously take yours. It was quiet as he reapplied a bit of medicine to the hand before wrapping it up again. 

“You don’t…” Joel started then cleared his throat. You never would have used the word anxious to describe the Joel you had gotten to know thus far, but nervous energy seemed to radiate off him. The tension in his shoulders looked painful to keep hold of. “I had breakfast delivered. Some stuff I know you like.” Joel pulled his hand away from yours. “But you don’t have to stay if you don’t wanna.”

“No. I want to.” You replied. Joel looked briefly hopeful. “I want to talk about this. I want⏤ to know. I want answers.”

“Right. Of course.” Joel nodded quickly. “I owe you at least that.” You nodded in agreement. Joel straightened from where he stood and ran a hand over his chest and shoulder with a quiet cough. “Can I make you something to drink? Coffee, tea, juice?”

You gave a small nod, mumbling a response, and watched as Joel put it all together. He poured himself a cup of coffee after serving you. Rather than take the seat beside you, he stood on the other side of the island counter across from you.

“You mentioned the girl from Vegas last night briefly, but how did you know…”

“Yo-yo told me you had a sugar baby before me. That you married her.”

“I did have a sugar baby before you, yes.” Joel sighed.

“Why did you lie to me?” You demanded.

Joel shook his head, “I never lied to you. I just⏤ I never told you, and you never asked.”

“Really?” You scoffed. “That’s what you wanna hang your hat on here? Semantics?” Joel hung his head then shook it a bit. “I didn’t want to believe her, but yesterday Nima texted someone she knows. A private investigator⏤”

Joel’s eyes widened, “You hired a private investigator??”

“I didn’t hire anybody! Nima just texted them and they confirmed⏤”

“You went to a PI before just asking me?” Joel replied sharply. You leaned back in your seat⏤ in shock at his audacity. He must have noticed how you felt because he held up a hand. “I just mean, that’s a huge invasion of privacy and all you had to do was call me⏤”

You pushed out of your seat and turned to leave. Joel called out after you before following. He grabbed your hand to tug you to a stop and you glared at him over your shoulder. You snapped, “If you’re just going to stand there and be defensive then there’s no reason for me to be here, Joel.” You pulled your hand out of his grip and spun to face him. “I understand that getting in contact with a fucking PI was a crazy move, but yesterday I felt a little crazy.” You scoffed. “I felt like an idiot. I felt like a naive, desperate idiot who got played. So, yeah, I let Nima text her cousin’s cousin’s cousin to find an answer because the thought of standing in front of you and asking⏤”

The rest of your words got caught in your throat. You didn’t want to get emotional in front of Joel. More than anything you wanted to keep your cool and be collected. Just in case he did break your heart, you could walk away with at least some of your dignity intact. Joel took a step closer. Thankfully, he didn’t try to touch you, but he did lift his hands slightly in surrender.

“I’m sorry. You’re right. I’m sorry.” He said. “I’m being defensive. Hell, I'm being an ass.” You locked your jaw and let your eyes focus on something over his shoulder. Unable to stare into those deep, dark eyes. “This is… This isn’t an easy subject for me to talk about and I⏤ I panicked. I want you to hear me out. I want you to know the truth.” He shifted in his stance so your gaze was forced to meet his. The longing there made you suck in a sharp breath. “Please. Give me another chance to explain this. I’ll do better.”

You rubbed the back of your neck with your non-injured hand and gave a small nod.

“Thank you. Thank you.” Joel repeated himself. He took a step back but kept his shoulders facing you as if he thought you were a flight risk. Joel motioned to his couch. “Do you wanna sit? I’ll grab our drinks.” You sighed and meandered over to sit down on one end of his leather couch. Joel didn’t move back into the kitchen until after you were seated. He came back with both of your drinks and handed you your own before sitting on the other side of the couch. One cushion of space between the two of you. 

You took a sip, trying to gather your thoughts, before nodding once. “I want to know about your wife first. Celina, you said? I want to know about her.”

“Yeah.” Joel swallowed thickly. “Do you remember anything I mentioned about Sarah’s mom before?”

“I didn’t know her name.” You replied. “You said the two of you had dated for, like, three months?” Joel nodded. “She got pregnant, and you worked it out. Things were fine, but two weeks after Sarah was born she left. You never said the two of you got married though.”

“Because we didn’t.” Joel replied softly. “I asked. Proposed to her when we found out she was pregnant with Sarah, and she said no.” Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, but he wasn’t meeting your gaze anymore. Joel stared down at the coffee mug in his hands. “I loved her. She was my first real love, actually. I knew our situation wasn’t ideal, but… I wanted it to work. I saw a future with her.” Joel ran his thumb back and forth on the edge of his mug’s rim where it reached. He chuckled, “When Sarah was born… Those two weeks? It was⏤ It was good. But, uh, then she left.” Joel shrugged in a way that attempted nonchalance but did not meet the mark. “Her leaving hurt for a lot of reasons. For one, in no way was I prepared to take care of a newborn.”

You set your drink on the coffee table before leaning back. Joel stayed silent, his jaw clenching and unclenching, and you recognized the look of someone getting stuck in their own memories. You spoke up, “What happened then? When did you get married?”

“Celina is…” Joel began. He rubbed his jawline. “I spent a lot of time being furious with her⏤ hating her. Not just for leaving me behind, but for leaving Sarah. Sarah deserved better.” He shook his head. “But she… she came to me, needing help, and I⏤ I couldn’t say no. Not to her. And not because I still had any sort of feelings for her, but because no matter how angry I was at her she gave me Sarah.” A vulnerable softness filled his features and he finally lifted his head to meet your gaze fully. “Without Celina, I wouldn’t have Sarah.”

You could understand that. You knew that his daughters meant absolutely everything to Joel. More so, despite all the shit going on between the two of you right now, despite Joel arguing otherwise, you knew he was a good man. You had a very hard time picturing him saying no to anyone who came to him for help. 

“When did she come to you? And why? What problem is solved with marriage?”

“Three years ago. Just about.” Joel mumbled. “It’s… She was sick. Cancer. The only feasible treatment was going to bankrupt her because her insurance refused to cover the cost. Celina came back wanting to see Sarah. Get to know her before she died.” Your eyes widened in surprise at both the news and the confusion that came with trying to connect the dots. “I told her that was up to Sarah⏤ she was old enough to make that decision for herself and I was gonna support her with whatever she chose.”

You nodded slowly, “Okay…”

“Sarah decided she did want to meet her mom. And I…” Joel paused. He set his coffee mug down on the coffee table as well and laced his fingers together. He was fidgeting. Another nervous tick of his. Joel could never seem to keep his hands still when he was caught in his own mind. It was like his hands so desperately wanted to fix what stressed him out⏤ even if it wasn’t a physical problem they could fix. “I⏤ I couldn’t stop thinking… remembering…”

Joel squeezed his eyes shut, and the palpable pain had you shifting closer. It dawned on you. Words clicking in your mind. You set a hand on his forearm and gave it a small squeeze, “Your mom.” Joel had told you, ages ago, that he had lost his own mother to cancer. “You lost her. I remember you telling me.”

“Yes.” Joel unlaced his own fingers so he could settle one hand on top of yours⏤ still resting on his forearm. The tip of his thumb dragged back and forth against the knuckle of your index finger. Tracing the shape of it. “It wasn’t… It wasn’t the exact same, I know that, but… Sarah technically had already lost her once.”

“Joel…”

“I offered to pay. Pay for the treatment in full.” Joel’s thumb stilled to squeeze your hand once. “I’d cover all the costs, but⏤ but Celina refused. Said she didn’t want,” Joel scoffed with a humorless laugh, “Didn’t want to be a ‘charity case’. Said she didn’t come back for my money, or for me to fix the problem, she came back for Sarah.” Joel shook his head. “We argued in circles for God knows how long. We finally settled on this. If we got married, she’d have my insurance instead of her own. My insurance would cover most of the treatments and she’d pay what it didn’t.”

You understood that. It matched up with what you knew about Joel. “How is she? Now?”

“In remission. Since seven months ago, she’s been in remission.” A small smile flickered on his features. “She lives in Waco. Wanted to be closer to Sarah. One of the only reasons I could stomach all of us coming to LA while Sarah stayed in Texas for college. I knew she’d at least have her there in case of emergencies.”

Your face scrunched in question, “Then why… Why are you still married?”

“I don’t have a reason. Not a real one. Not beyond me just being lazy.” Joel said firmly. He held your hand tight, keeping it pinned to his arm, like it was a lifeline. “Up until now, it didn’t matter to me. It made no difference. That’s it. I swear to you, sugar.” The nickname fell out of his mouth like second nature. “And I’m working on changing that already. You can ask Tommy or⏤ or hell I’ll give you Celina’s number or our lawyer’s number. We started the official divorce paperwork the day you and I got back from Vegas. It was the first call I made after dropping you off at your place.”

You did believe him. As Joel held your gaze, all you could see in those soulful eyes was a deep desperation. An ache seeking the comfort that would come with reassurance. “I believe you.” You said softly and his eyes closed in relief. His entire body sagged as the tension seeped out of it. You really did believe him, and of all the ways this could’ve gone wrong technically you supposed this was the best case scenario. However, learning this made you realize what aspect of this bothered you more than most. You slid your hand out from under his. “Why… Why didn’t you just tell me?”

“I was… I was going to. After.”

“Why though? Why after?” You shook your head. “Why didn’t you trust me with this?” Joel’s face fell again. “I know we haven’t known one another for long, but…” You bit back your words before you admitted to the naive truth that you felt some sort of connection to him. That being with him was as easy as breathing and you foolishly let yourself get carried away. “I don’t…”

Joel quickly scooted closer, a hand held up in surrender, “Had nothing to do with⏤ with me not… I do trust you. I do.” Joel shook his head. “Me not mentioning this had nothing to do with you. It was me.” His words reminded you of Vegas. This excuse was sounding familiar and the more you heard it the harder it was to believe. He hung his head and winced. “I need to tell you about⏤ about Erina.”

“That’s…” You began. “Is that your sugar baby?

“Yeah.” Joel nodded. “But it was more complicated than that.”

“So, I’m gathering.” You mumbled. The words of frustration left your lips before you could filter them. In this situation, you felt you had every right to be upset and bitter, but the look of pained guilt that filled Joel’s features made every cell in your body vibrate with regret. It felt like you had just kicked a puppy, and those sad, brown eyes were heart wrenching. “Sorry.”

Joel shook his head quickly. “No. Don’t. You don’t need to be sorry. I do.”

“You’re talking to me⏤ answering my questions.” You replied with a small shrug. “The least I can do is not be petty.” You twisted your lips. “So? Tell me about her.”

“She wasn’t my sugar baby to begin with.” Joel started softly. He turned his head to keep his gaze on the mug sitting on the coffee table, and you found the story easier to stomach without those powerful eyes focused on you. “My company got hired for a job. It was a big one, which is why it came across my desk. Some summer project. A finance guy wanted his vacation house completely renovated in Malibu. I decided to take a more hands on position for the entire thing. Stayed on site to work.” It wasn’t a shock to hear. You were plenty aware that Joel spent most of his work time on site if he could. Joel only donned a tie for the board room when Tess wrestled him into it. “The guy who hired us wasn’t there, but his wife was. At least, I thought it was his wife.”

“But it wasn’t.”

Joel gave out a sad chuckle, “No. She wasn’t. Erina was… lively and energetic. She was fun, and I… It had been a long time since I experienced that kind of light hearted fun. Plus, the client, when he did come around, was such an asshole to her and I⏤” Joel sighed. “She left him midway through the project, but we didn’t get involved with one another until after it was over. When it started, it was great. The honeymoon phase was…” His voice trailed off as a small, sad smile crossed his face. You found your stomach churn in jealousy at him talking about this other woman. It was damn near nonsensical, but the emotion rose up regardless. “The issues started a while in. I realized that we saw the relationship differently. I thought… I thought what we had was real, and she only saw me as her new sugar daddy.”

For a while, we just went on. I didn’t think the difference in how we viewed things would matter. Stupid, I know, but… I thought I was happy.” Joel mumbled the last bit. He lifted a hand to rub at his jawline. “As you’ve probably figured out, I’m not⏤ I’m not good at this. Relationships and…” He tensed. “Some people are just better off alone, but I’ve been too hard headed to accept that.”

“Joel.” You interrupted the flow of his story at his claim. You didn’t believe that and you especially refused to believe it about Joel. “That’s not⏤”

“Things were still working until I…” Joel shook his head. “I told her about Celina. Tried to explain the situation to her, but when she told me to get divorced and I couldn’t⏤ that’s when it all started to crumble. I didn’t actually end the relationship until after I found out she was seeing a few other guys.” You opened your mouth the speak, the beginnings of a sentence you didn’t know how to end slipping from your tongue, but Joel suddenly turned in his seat to face you and the look in his eyes silenced any attempt at speech. He hesitantly reached out and let his hand settle on top of yours. When you didn’t pull away, he squeezed his grip tighter. “You and Erina are not the same. It wasn’t until after we stopped seeing one another that I realized how terrible our relationship had been. So please, please, don’t think I’m comparing you to her because I’m not. I know how she reacted is not some⏤ some default and you wouldn’t necessarily react the same, but… but every time I considered telling you about Celina, all I could imagine was you leaving. And I, selfishly, stopped myself from admitting the truth to you because I didn’t want to ruin this the way I ruin everything else.”

You murmured his name. Early on, you recognized Joel had trust issues, but you had never realized it stretched this far. Joel didn’t trust even himself. It broke your heart that he thought so poorly of himself. No matter how upset you were at the man you knew deep down he was a good. His mistake had hurt you, but it hadn’t been born of malice. You saw that now. Fear and self doubt had brought the two of you to this crossroads. 

“Joel, that isn’t true.” You said softly. “You don’t ruin everything.”

“The evidence is pretty damning.” Joel chuckled sadly. You opened your mouth to argue, but he shook his head quickly and held out a hand to stop you. “That’s not the point of… I should’ve told you. No ifs, ands, or buts about it. I should’ve told you, been up front about it all, and I’m sorry.” Joel sighed. “I’m sorry, sugar.”

He had answered a number of your questions and with the truth came the relief of knowing.  Plus, the answer technically hadn’t been your worst case scenario. God knew your brain was plenty capable of thinking up some nightmare-ish situations. So in comparison, it would be worse. Still, there was an itch that hadn’t quite yet been scratched.

“Why… Why seek out a new sugar baby?” You asked. His experience with Erina had obviously been less than ideal so why try again? You shook your head, “Why me?”

“Those are two very different questions.”

“How do you figure that?”

“I …” Joel began hesitantly. You could see his thoughts jumbling in his mind as he struggled to string one along. Conversations like this were hardly considered Joel’s comfort zone so you did appreciate that he was trying. That went a long way as well. “Erina came back into my life not so long ago.” You felt your stomach drop and your heart clench painfully. The emotional response was so physical that it nearly made you sick. Joel must have noticed because he quickly reached out and settled a hand on your shoulder. “No. Not like that. She means nothing to me. She came to me wanting to get back together, harassing me about it, but I’ve made it crystal clear to her and everyone around us that I have no interest in restarting something with her. Especially now.”

“Okay…”

“The idea was…” Joel winced sheepishly. “The idea was to hire a sugar baby as a way to show her that I was serious. We were done and I was moving on.” It was ridiculous enough that from anyone’s else mouth you wouldn’t have believed them, but they had been said in Joel’s sincerity. “I know how that sounds.”

“Not good. It sounds not good.”

“I know. Everyone told me it was a bad idea. Tess, Sarah, Ellie.” You found it interesting that his daughters knew about their father’s love life to that degree. It spoke to how close they were and his stance on honesty. Joel chuckled. “Actually, the only person who agreed with me on the plan was Tommy, but I suppose that should’ve been a sign to give it up.” Your lips twitched up mildly in amusement. “But, deep down I knew it would hurt Erina, and I… I wanted to be petty.”

You shrugged, “And I’m apart of this… how? To annoy Erina?”

“No.” Joel said firmly, almost roughly. “Absolutely not. Remember the day you bought me that coffee? I said I had been meeting with some other, um, women?” You nodded and let him continue. “By time I made it to the that coffee shop, I had already half decided to give up the idea. It was obviously going poorly. I was literally just looking for someone I wouldn’t mind spending time with and I couldn’t even do that. But you were… God, meeting you felt like a breath of fresh air.” He messily ran a hand through his hair while his other continued to fidget. “You stayed on my mind and when I spotted you again…”

“I…” You tried to find the right words. The ones he would want to hear. It felt odd to give forgiveness for a misunderstanding, but you knew that’s what he was seeking. Validation. “I forgive you.” 

The relief on Joel’s face was staggering and when he held a hand out to you, you knew exactly what he was asking for. You closed the space and let him pull you into a hug. His warm, large hands enveloped you as he craddled the back of your head to hold you as closely to him as you could. You wrapped your own arms around him and lazily dragged your thumb up and down where it rested. 

You did forgive him for this. That was the truth and you meant it with your whole heart, but this entire experience was eye opening. You had fallen for Joel so dangerously fast. It made you realize that if this had been a different scenario, one of the nightmare-ish ones you imagined, it would’ve destroyed you. With the speed you were moving in, you would’ve hit the ground at a million miles per hour and shattered. You forgave Joel, but you needed to figure out a way to better guard your heart.

“I’m sorry for reaching out to a PI.”

“No. Don’t be.” Joel pulled back and the hand at the back of your head dragged forward to cup the side of your face. He sighed, “You were right. I should’ve handled this better, but I… I do appreciate you saying so.” The two of you sat in a moment of silence and for the first time since you met him that silence felt awkward. Joel must have felt it as well based on the clearing of his throat and fidgeting. “So… Are we— Are we okay?”

You nodded, “I think so.” The tension left Joel’s shoulders and you quickly stood. “I should… I should go.”

“You’re off today though, aren’t you?” Joel stood as well.

“Well, yeah, but—”

“Stay. Please.” Joel motioned back to the kitchen. “Have breakfast. I called Tommy and he’s gonna bring over your stuff.” Your eyes widened in surprise and he shrugged. “Tommy is gonna bring over your friend who has your stuff I should say.”

You hesitated, nervous after this heart to heart, but Joel held out a hand to you. Equally a peace offering and lifeline. You just weren’t sure if it was a lifeline for you or him. You set your hand in his and he gave it a small squeeze. The smile on his face was soft and open. Two words you knew not many people were able to claim as a description with him. 

Joel led you back toward the kitchen and when you turned to try and go back for your mug he stopped you. He settled you on one of the bar stools, hands lingering on your hips briefly, before going back to the living room for both your mugs. 

“You know, when I pictured you spending the night here this wasn’t quite how I thought it’d go.” Joel chuckled and grabbed a plate. You leaned on the counter and waited since you knew that plate he was making was meant for you. It took a second for his words to dawn on you. Joel pictures you spending the night in his home with him? Your face and neck warmed at the thought. It wasn’t like you hadn’t had those kinds of ideas, but hearing it from him still made your heart flutter. Even with the disaster miscommunication still lingering in your rear view mirror. “Here. Lemme know if you want anything else.” Joel set the plate in front of you and handed you a fork. After making his own plate, he pulled the barstool beside you closer and sat down. He sat sideways to face you and his knee pressed against your stool. “We could, uh, we could have a day in.”

“Hm?” You took a bite of your food.

“We’re both in pajamas and neither of us have work.”

“You don’t have work?” You asked in surprise.

Joel shook his head. “I already called Tess and told her I wasn’t coming in today. Told her I was feeling sick.”

“Did she actually believe you?” You smirked.

“No.” Joel chuckled. “She didn’t. But she also didn’t call me out on my shit, so…”

He gave you a charming smile, obviously trying to lighten the mood, and you found you appreciated it. Things weren't perfect, but for the sake of what had been you were willing to try.

[megu-meow]

how I met your mother - Gojo Satoru

dad!Gojo x fem.reader

Summary: I recently found out that many TV series and other Manga/Anime are canon in JJK - How I Met Your Mother included - and I couldn't stop thinking about how Gojo would re-enact the thing after watching it. Moreover, all of you deserve some teeth-rotting fluff after that horrifying manga chapter. Enjoy!

"Why am I here?" Megumi asked with irritation laced through his voice as he sat down on the couch, beside the two white-haired rascals he calls his siblings.

"I'm gonna tell you guys the story of how I met your mother!" Gojo exclaims as he sits on his desk chair, in his office at Jujutsu Tech. The desk usually sits in the corner, right beside the window, but now is pushed in front of the couch, so that he can sit face to face with his children, the setup similar to the one in his recent favorite American TV show, How I Met Your Mother. The only difference is that the whole scenario is not played in his home office, but the one at his actual workplace, because you declared your home a Jujutsu-Free Zone.

"Gojo-Sensei..." Megumi sighs as he starts rubbing his forehead with annoyance "I was five when the two of you got together, I heard the story of how you two met a million times, this is not new to me." he explains as three sets of cerulean blue eyes gawk at him from all directions.

"Mama..." the two-year-old girl sitting on Megumi's left puffs with a ridiculously adorable pout on her face as soon as she hears the mention of her mother, and the five-year-old boy on the other side of the couch whiffs the air aggressively with the plush sword his father was forced to buy him on their way to the school.

"I know, Megumi, but this is a special occasion, you're gonna sit through the whole thing again so that you can experience this amazing fairytale with your beloved siblings." the tall sorcerer explains and his attention turns to his beloved daughter, Munchkin as he refers to her. The little girl slowly climbs into Megumi's lap, the boy instinctively helping her settle down as he embraces her lightly from behind, tickling her sides, and the room is filled with childish laughter. His son, or as he refers to him, Nugget, drops the toy from his tiny hands and huffs in annoyance, suddenly jealous of his sister's ability to gain the undivided attention of his favorite person, his older brother. "Now, all of you pay attention."

It was his first day at Tokyo Jujutsu High. Given his extravagant upbringing, Gojo Satoru was a self-centered douchebag with a horrible attitude. He first met Geto Suguru, the only friend he ever claimed he had, the dark-haired sorcerer with a warm smile and polite demeanor, the polar opposite of him. The two formed an unbearable duo and as soon as you walked into the classroom with the three first-year students, four months after the school year began, you knew you had to keep yourself as far away from the boys as possible. You became good friends with Shoko though, the two of you had plenty of common interests and your personalities were similar as well.

You tried avoiding Gojo at all times, you thought he was irritating based on his behavior in class and his rude comments behind your back, ones he whispered to Geto, making your dark-haired classmate laugh obnoxiously. However, Your efforts to stay as far away from him were proven to be useless when Yaga paired the two of you for a mission.

"So, why is a clan princess like you avoiding the strongest sorcerer of her time? Didn't your family tell you about the power and influence my family holds over the jujutsu society?" he asks you cockily and you chuckle dismissively at his words.

"I'm not a clan princess, Gojo! On the contrary... I come from a family of non-sorcerers and I was an outcast my whole life because I kept seeing things that others couldn't." you said as you kept hitting the curse with sharp daggers that you wielded in the air with your cursed technique "And I don't care about your power or your privilege, because I'm only here to help others." you make your point even clearer as you throw your last dagger with extra force, exorcising the curse without breaking a sweat.

"And that was the moment..." Gojo begins to explain to his overly bored children, but Megumi interrupts him.

"... when you realized you wanted to pursue the only girl that ever gave you attitude, a.k.a. Y/n. We know, it's getting boring."

"Don't roll your eyes at me, Megumi! This is an amazing story about the two people that raised you. Show some respect!" Satoru exclaims with an offended expression and Munchkin hides her face in her tiny hands, thinking that she is the one who is being scolded, trying to hide from her father's light-hearted attempt at discipline.

"Papa, can we have Splendid Sushi?" the white-haired boy asks, boredom evident from his facial expression.

"Nugget, you just ate before we came here." Satoru pouts, clearly disappointed in his kids.

"I know, I'm still hungry."

"I'm gonna wrap this story up quickly and we can go eat after." he gives in, a sad expression on his face.

After that moment you shared on your mission, Gojo changed. He was still annoying and arrogant, but he tried acting like a decent human being around you. In one instance Suguru explained that the remarks they exchanged with each other were making fun of Yaga-Sensei, not you. He felt the need to clarify that after Satoru complained to him about how much you seemed to hate his guts.

These things shed a different light on Gojo, you noticed how he was very attentive when it came to the small details you shared about yourself when the four of you first years were hanging out. He also ensured that you got home safe whenever you went out as a group and he even gave you his jacket so that you wouldn't catch a cold.

He also started complimenting you, your looks, your advancement with your technique, and he thoroughly enjoyed how you blushed every time he called you sweetheart or any other nickname he came up with on the spot. However, you were stubborn, even more challenging than some curses he fought.

"I'm gonna wife you up one day, sweet girl! Even if it's the last thing I do." he whispers into your ear as your head is resting on his shoulder while you're being driven home by an auxiliary assistant from a challenging mission. He thought you were sleeping, but you could hear his muffled words and your lips curled into a slight smile. Because Satoru was good, kind-hearted, and loving in his dorky, obnoxious way.

"Papa, where is Mama?" Munchkin asks with tears in her eyes, clearly distressed from the long period of time she had to endure without her Mama. And the only thing Satoru can do is get up from his chair, walk towards his little baby and embrace her with his strong and bulky arms, trying to comfort her, because he knows exactly how terrible it feels being away from you. He coos at her lovingly, kissing her chubby cheeks and he sits back down to continue with his story. He also puts out his hand, using blue to fetch a pink fluffy blankie he keeps in his office. Megumi rolls his eyes at this, he finds it annoying how Gojo uses his techniques so unnecessarily.

A month after Satoru's not-so-secret confession, at Nanami Kento's birthday party, it happens. Your first kiss. For the most part, the party goes terribly for both of you. He is standing in a corner, drinking seltzers orange soda furiously as he observes how a third-year is trying to hit on you with cringey pick up lines that make Gojo want to throw up. You seem uncomfortable with his advances, but Satoru doesn't intervene, because he has no right to. You two are not dating, you are just very close friends. Nothing less, certainly nothing more. However, as that idiot steps closer to you and you try to bring an end to his flirting, Satoru observes the deep discomfort in your eyes and the twirling of your hands, trying to wield some glass shards with your technique from the broken bottle spilled onto the floor. He decides to intervene, and with a single clap of his hands, he's beside you, his fingers slip into yours, stopping you from using your technique, knowing that using it without permission on school grounds could get you in trouble. The third-year leaves instantly once Gojo arrives and there you stand in front of the white-haired sorcerer with thankful eyes.

"Thank you, Satoru!" you say and from the many shots of sake cups of tea you had, you gain a newfound courage within you to get on your tiptoes and kiss his cheek. Or so you think, because in the last moment, he turns his head and your lips land on his. It's a short kiss, basically a peck, but the sobering reality of the consequences of your actions hits you like a train.

"I'm sorry, that was a mistake..." you mutter and you run out of the party, leaving him there disappointed.

After that, you don't talk to each other for two weeks. Gojo tries in the beginning, but you stop all of his attempts because you are too ashamed of your actions. After a while he becomes petty himself, claiming that it's for the better and saying the two of you wouldn't have lasted in the first place. He does it in the usual Gojo fashion, making sure that you hear every word leaving his mouth. He wants you to hurt just as much as he is, but as soon as he spots the puffy, red circles under your eyes, he regrets ever being mean towards you.

"Dada, why you make Mama cry?" the toddler in his lap looks at him curiously, her lips in a pout, clearly disappointed with her father.

"Hey! That's not true, Mama made me cry first, Munchkin."

"You never cried in your life, Gojo." Megumi intervenes and if Satoru could kill with his Six Eyes, he would annihilate the Fushiguro kid right now.

"Is the story over, Papa? You said we'd go to Splendid Sushi after." Nugget whines once again and Satoru knows he has to finish up soon, otherwise, his son is going to throw a tantrum.

Satoru rushes into the medical ward upon hearing the news. You went out on a mission alone and you were brought back by Yaga himself, on a stretcher. He doesn't know any more details than that, but he's frantic. As soon as he spots you on one of the disgustingly hard hospital beds, being treated by Shoko with blood running down your beautiful face, Satoru is standing beside you, holding your hand. You are unconscious, but it doesn't matter, his six eyes tell him that your cursed energy is stable, you have been knocked out, that's all.

"Step aside for a second, loverboy, I have to heal the cut on her arm." Shoko says with a smirk and Gojo steps away hesitantly, watching carefully as your scars slowly disappear. The healer leaves the room as soon as she finishes and Satoru is quick to return to your side, his fingers laced with yours once again.

"Gojo?"

"Am I not Satoru anymore, sweet thing?" he asks disappointedly and your mouth curls up slightly. You could have died, but he's still hung up on the way you addressed him. You look down at your hands, not able to respond. You don't quite know what you two are anymore. "I was really scared, you know? I cannot lose my favorite girl this soon, otherwise I would go insane."

"It's not a big deal, Satoru..."

"But it is...Don't you get it?! I love you." he confesses, he seems furious, but his eyes glisten with the utmost adoration "It's you, it's always been you. The one who keeps me grounded, the one that makes it worthy to be the strongest, because all this power is meant to protect you, sweetheart. So please don't ever go two weeks and four days without talking to me and for the love of god, please don't go out there on reckless missions without me because I don't want to hear about you coming back on a stretcher ever again." he brings your hands up to his lips, kissing them gently and you swear you can see tears swelling in his precious eyes.

"I love you too, Satoru." you reply, your voice barely a whisper. He's shocked, for a second, the next he's leaning closer asking for permission to kiss you properly. You grant it to him and he unites your lips in a long-awaited kiss, one that seals the fate of the rest of your lives, without even knowing it.

"That day, in the hospital ward of Jujutsu Tech, I promised my classmate, the girl I fell deeply in love with, that I would protect her no matter what. That I would love and cherish her with all of my might till the end of my life. I promised her that one day I would marry her, when I went back home with you, Megumi, and told her I was planning on raising you at eighteen, while she simply agreed to help me all the way, no questions asked. Three years later I vowed to her that I would be beside her in sickness and in health. When you rascals were born, I promised I would take care of her and you guys with all the energy I have. Deep down I knew from the moment she stepped into that classroom when I was fifteen that she would be the one for me. And that kids, is how I met your mother." he finishes with a fond smile on his face, but it quickly falters as he notices that Nugget is once again preoccupied with whacking the air with the toy from earlier, Megumi is on his phone and Munchkin is sleeping soundly in his embrace.

Suddenly, he hears your footsteps from down the hall and your sing-song voice coming through the door.

"Where's my beloved family at?" you ask playfully, opening the door to his office, and peeking in. Upon spotting the sleeping toddler in his arms you keep quiet, approaching the two of them and you take your daughter into your embrace. You look around the room, observing the changes, the very bored teenager and your rascal of a son sitting on the couch and you quickly connect the pieces of the puzzle.

"You did it, didn’t you, Satoru?"

"What, sweetheart?" he asks faking innocence.

"The How I Met Your Mother Thing? The idea you were talking to me about the other night."

"Maybe."

"Oh, my poor babies, you had to sit through that cliche story. How long did your dad keep you bored, Megumi?" you ask, your tone teasing.

"Actually it wasn't that long after Nugget started whining." the raven-haired boy explained, looking fondly at his only mother figure.

"I'm so sorry, guys, let's go to Splendid Suchi, okay? That would make you all feel better." you add, leaving a loving kiss on all the kids' heads. Your son lifts his head with incredible speed upon hearing you mention his favourite restaurant, up until now he didn't even notice your presence, too preoccupied with his new toy. Suddenly everyone is up on their feet, ready to have a scrumptious meal.

You and Satoru stay behind a bit as the two boys run out of the school and Megumi summons his demon dogs so that the two of them can play with the fluffy shikigami.

"When are you gonna tell ME that fairytale of yours, angel boy? I'm really curious how you scored a clan princess like me." you ask your husband jokingly and he chuckles, raising his sunglasses up his nose. His hands quickly snake around your waist, pulling you into a loving kiss. Your daughter finally awakens lifting her head from your shoulder, interrupting the beautiful moment between the two of you.

"Mama!" she exclaims, embracing you tightly, her tired eyes fluttering as you bring her closer to your chest.

"Not only did you steal your Mama from me you get her titties as well?! This world is truly cruel."

[nvuy]

The Halloween stranger au has me in an actual chokehold PLS—

you didn’t ask but i have so much more for hsr.

tw for typical halloween slasher fics talk — murder, blood, gore, obsession, stalking, yandere themes, overall horror themes & subjects.

sunday & robin in a wrong turn (2021) / mandy (2018) / midsommar (2019) spin off: where, surprise surprise, your car breaks down and you get picked up by a sweet girl who introduces you to her small private town off the highway. she expresses that her town is due to have a religious celebration over the weekend, and it’s going to be a bit to get your car repaired in town.

you’re introduced to the family head who is oddly pleased to meet you, and says you’re just perfect for the celebration. somehow, along the way, as repressed and closed in robin is, she turns her affections for you—the most normal person she’s met—into this strange twisted romance. you’ve somehow seduced her, and sunday finds out.

as revenge, sunday brings you in for questioning. he’s disgusted that someone like you—who he now labels as some sort of antichrist—can trudge into this town, sully and ruin his sister’s innocence. somehow, however, you manage to seduce him, though not on purpose. you plead your case and promise to leave and never come back, but as you’re being held captive, sunday finds himself falling victim to whatever curse you’ve inlaid upon him.

doctor ratio in gothika (2003): where you work as a psychiatrist and struggle to help your patients. your coworker, doctor ratio, has continuously held down his advances and interests towards you, despite the chemistry. you then wake up confused as a patient in the hospital you used to work at, and doctor ratio does everything in his power to believe you and help you out.

and despite how much you plead and beg to be set free, he can’t do anything that would result in you hurting him, someone else, or even worse, yourself.

acheron and black swan in scream (1996): two girls crash into your house, chase you around with knives, killed all of your friends and anyone that tried to make any advances on you in the past. two repressed homosexuals running after ANOTHER repressed homosexual (you)? banger.

and yes, you do shove a grand piano down the stairs. and yes, black swan gets smacked right in the face with it. all the better when you’re dragged by your hair into the bedroom and she has a nice bruise on her face, and acheron is extremely pissed off.

jing yuan or argenti in the candyman (1992): the ghost in the mirror that only comes out once someone has uttered its name three times becomes infatuated with a detective trying to investigate the mysterious disappearances and murders over the infamous ghost story.

both argenti and jing yuan fit the personality of sinister, yet gentle and beautiful, where the candyman in the original 1992 slasher worked more to seduce his victims that outright murder them.

blade in a the boy (2016) / halloween (1978) spin off: where you find another resident living in your house after investigating a series of strange knocks. you end up communicating with the supposed ghost that haunts your home.

and it is only when you fall victim to an unfortunate home invasion that the apparent ‘ghost in the walls’ is a real man that’s been living in your attic for years, and has been watching your every move.

he’s also developed an unhealthy obsession with you—and, boy, has it been a while since you’ve seen certain articles of clothing.

[facefullofsadness]

can u write bbangsaz x fem reader bsdm non-con with like mommy kink? thank uu

-💋

these newjeans ones always be so kinky bro like not my babies! 😭

content - idol!bbangsaz x 6th member!reader (idol!au), not a lot of build-up or exposition/story, smut (threesome, non-con, blackmail, shower sex, cunnilingus, fingering, edging, bdsm themes, mommy kink, degradation, corruption kink, anal fingering)

wc - 2173

a/n - why is it so hard to find bbangsaz pics lmao, anyway I've been obsessed w this for days, minji and hanni are so fucking fine in this (unrelated to fic content but I needed to share :D)

hanni and minji were really good at acting like they liked you.

you were the last addition to newjeans after them already being 5 for a few months was decided. those two were deadset on them being complete at five members, but when ador told the girls that you would be added as a last minute addition, the two oldest girls were livid. dani, haerin, and hyein didn't mind, if anything they were excited to have another unnie. but bbangsaz felt threatened by your presence.

hanni was already the best vocalist and minji was a good contender for center, but both of those titles were swooped from their hands when you joined. not only had they assigned you as main vocalist, but also center. you were ruining everything the two oldest members had built in the amount of time they were five, and they had to stop you from getting too much power.

you three had left and went home after practice ended, the three younger members staying to get some extra practice in. you headed straight towards the shower and ran the warm water, getting in and letting it cascade down your bare body, relaxing under the warmth. suddenly, you hear the shower curtain slide open, feeling a strong grip around your wrists pinning you to the wall. your eyes shoot open to see a half naked minji towering over you, a half naked hanni outside the shower, holding up the camera you guys used for vlogs, arms crossed and a mischievous grin on her face.

"wh-what the fuck are you doing?!" you ask confused, raising your voice and trying to break free of minji's grip.

"putting you in your place princess! because that's what you are right, ador's princess?" hanni taunts behind the girl in front of you.

"what are you talking about?!" you continue to try and break free, turning red as you realize that you're literally wet and exposed to the two girls.

"stop being such a brat and quit fucking squirming my god, it's annoying," minji growls, digging her nails into your wrists, making you wince in pain.

"you took everything we worked so hard to get, I think it's only fair you give us something in return," hanni's voice echoes through the bathroom.

you panic and your heart beat starts to quicken with anxiety, "please! don't do this! stop, let me go!"

"shut the fuck up and just be the whore we know you are y/n. let us do what we want or else we'll make sure that video ruins your life," minji says lowly into your ear, her tone and breath making you shiver with fear.

"you heard her y/n-ie, just be our little slut and you'll be justtt fineeee," hanni says in a mocking tone, setting up the camera on the bathroom counter, entering the shower with you and minji.

your eyes start to water with tears as minji holds your hands behind your back and sucks at your neck, hanni's hands groping your tits and rubbing her thumbs roughly against your nipples.

"please stop!" you cry, sobs slowly starting to leave your throat.

hanni shuts you up by forcefully making out with you, shoving her tongue down your throat and whimpering in your mouth. you squirm in minji's hold and try to move away from the two girls forcing you into submission, but much to no avail as their touches and mouths just become more and more greedy with every kick of your legs and flail of your body. the tears that fall from your eyes join with the warm water hitting your cheeks as hanni pinches your nipples, making you scream on her tongue.

she pulls away and you sob hard, "please! let me go! what do you want, I'll do it!"

the two girls start to laugh on both sides of you, minji's laugh on your skin creating vibrations. she sighs, "you stupid little girl, can't you see we're already doing what we want and you're helping us. if you want to help even more, stop fucking resisting."

you close your eyes and hang your head in defeat, letting the tears escape and sobs leave your mouth. hanni continues to laugh in front of you, minji leaving hickeys wherever she wanted. you watch through clouded vision as the girl in front of you gets on her knees, parting your thighs and bringing her face close to your center.

"please..." you weakly sob out desperately once more, but it leaves in a whisper left ignored.

you feel a tongue flicking at your clit making you scream out and cry harder. joining hanni's tongue were minji's fingers, sliding between your entrance and teasing your hole.

she chuckles into your ear, "are you fucking wet?"

you shake your head, denying the accusation of the question. in truth, your body was betraying you, it was so sensitive to the girls' touches and advances so of course, the pleasure started building.

"no? why are you lying to me? you're obviously enjoying this if I could just slide right in..." minji slips two long fingers into your tight cunt.

hanni's mouth sucked so perfectly at your clit, tongue flicking against it inside of her mouth, minji's fingers found the delicious spot inside of you quick, curling her digits repeatedly against it at a pleasurable pace. you absolutely hated how good the girls felt fucking you as you sobbed with your head thrown back over minji's shoulder, biting your lip to suppress moans.

your body continued to betray you, feeling your hips grind down onto hanni's sloppy tongue and fucking yourself back against minji's skilled fingers.

the girl behind you whispers into your ear, "you like this don't you? your pussy just begging to get fingered and eaten out by us. bet you've been fucking yourself to the thought of this like the little horny bitch I know you are."

moans slip from your mouth and continue to fall out at her words, the feeling of her fingers now ramming into you and hanni's tongue spelling her name on your clit being so overwhelming. you feel the mouth on your pussy smile at your loss of control over your noises.

you begin panting and your moans get louder the closer to the edge they bring you. "wanna cum you little whore? want us to fuck you till you're begging for more?"

your eyes barely make out minji looking down at you. you don't respond, instead chasing for the release they built up inside of you. but of course, they take it away just as quickly, feeling the fingers deep inside slip out and the tongue swirling your throbbing clit slurp for the last time. you whine and whimper at the loss of contact and your thighs tremble, hanni holding your hips so you don't stumble and fall over.

you hear the sound of the water being turned off before they drag your drenched body into your room, manhandling you onto all fours. you're so dazed and confused, you barely process the lacey material tying your wrists together behind your back. your body jolts and you moan out as you feel a tongue thrust deep into your pussy, head collapsing against your mattress. someone pulls your head up by your hair and you open your eyes to see hanni sprawled out in front of you, legs wide open with her bare cunt.

"go on then, stop crying and put your tongue to good use," she says before forcing your face into her pussy, muffling your moans as minji eats you out from behind.

you go to work between her folds, sliding your tongue over her clit and burying your face between her legs, whining into her core as you feel the same movements being done between your own thighs. hanni moans melodically into the air at your tongue on her, giggling here and there at the reality of the situation, watching you intently eat her out like you wanted every bit of her cum down your throat.

she taunted above you, "thirsty there? and here I thought you didn't want this, turns out you just wanted to please us huh?"

you open your blurry eyes to look up at her, a sinister smirk on her lips, looking down at you with half-lidded eyes. she caresses your cheek as another tear fell down your face, your crying never having stopped, petting your head with her other hand.

"keep going y/n-ie, turns out singing isn't the only thing that mouth is good for."

she suddenly pushes your head down into her, forcing your face further into her heat, making you insert your tongue into her hole and suffocate with your nose against her clit. her moans rile you on and you flick your tongue against her walls, whimpering into her pussy while minji continues to pleasure you from behind. you feel her thumb rub against your clit with her tongue mimicking the same movements inside your cunt, slurping noises and moans filling your ears as you fuck yourself back against her mouth.

hanni ruts her hips against you, her breathing picking up and head thrown back with her mouth wide open and eyes closed. you quicken your pace of your tongue, licking against her g-spot and humming into her pussy, rubbing your nose against her clit. her grip on your hair tightens and she thrusts herself into your mouth one last time, cumming down your throat as her thighs tremble around your head. you hear her heavy pants as you slow your movements, hands caressing your head and face.

you're so close to cumming too with minji behind you, but she suddenly pulls away, making you scream in protest. hanni's gentleness disappears right away, pulling you up making you face her, your back against minji's chest.

"what? you thought you were just gonna get off so easily? there are things you have to work hard for, you know that surely."

you sob uncontrollably looking up at her weakly as you beg, "pl-please! I'm sorry! fuck, just let me cum! I've done everything you wanted! I know I've been such a bad girl, but mommy, I deserve it! please just let me cum! please please! I can't take it anymore, just fuck me..."

you ramble with tears flowing down your face. hanni's eyes are wide with amusement and minji chuckles behind you, the two of them exchanging a look. they've ruined you, bad.

hanni pushes you back roughly against minji's chest, using her front to pin you against her.

"oh y/n, you really are just our little plaything now, aren't you? I hope you know what you're so desperately begging for."

you feel her fingers slip into your pussy and pump fast, screaming out at the sudden pace. your eyes shoot open as you feel fingertips circle your asshole, collecting cum and saliva around the area before pushing in, making you let out a deafening cry. both of the paces of their fingers in you are merciless, pumping in and out of you like they're taking turns. hanni's fingers would push in when minji's fingers would come out, pushing in with a harsh thrust when the other's fingers would come out.

minji's teeth sank into your skin, leaving indent marks all over your body, hanni leaving hickeys anywhere your skin wasn't red.

"fuckkkk!!! oh my god, yes give it to me!!!" you're so fucked out, tears a constant stream down your face, eyes rolled back, drool seeping out of your mouth hanging wide open, head thrown back.

they never let up with the speed of their digits. the squelching lewd noises coming from the sheer cum leaking out of your aching hole is so loud, adding on to the girls' heavy breathing and your blood curdling cries. the pleasure burns, your holes taking so much forceful pumping, but it hurts so fucking good. your back arches, pushing your tits against hanni, to which she pinches your nipples with her free hand, adding onto the blinding delight coursing throughout your numb body.

you feel your stomach churn at the feeling of your orgasm coming in fast.

"please don't stop, I'm gonna fucking-!" you never finish your whiney sentence, cumming with a scream.

your pussy squirts juices all over everything, hanni's arm and thighs are covered, your sheets are soaked, minji's knees bathe in the drenched material of your blankets. you swear you blackout, body jerking with every aftershock of pleasure that rolls over you. you let your body fall, collapsing against hanni, her pulling away and letting you flop onto the bed.

you feel minji's fingers withdraw from you, hearing the digits slip out with a pop from your asshole. you feel them both get up from your bed, leaving your limp and lifeless body to recover by itself, not even bothering to untie you.

as your vision and consciousness fades, you hear the faint voice of one of them say, "that better teach you to stay in your place."

[afeelgoodblog]

The Best News of Last Week - May 15, 2023

🧲 - Magnetic Marvels: Researchers Flip the Switch on Depression

1. New Zealand Government announces prescriptions charges will be free.

The $5 prescription fee at pharmacies will be scrapped in July. This is set to save about 3 million people a year money, and in particular 770,000 people aged over 65. It will make most prescriptions in New Zealand free.

Free access to medicines is also hoped to ease pressure on the over-burdened health system by helping people get medicines sooner.

2. Platypuses return to Sydney's Royal National Park after disappearing for decades

Platypuses have been relocated to the Royal National Park in Sydney, after they disappeared from the park's waterways about 50 years ago. A joint project by the University of New South Wales, NSW National Parks and Wildlife Service and the World Wildlife Fund has reintroduced five females to the Hacking River, with a group of males to follow next week.

3. 74-year-old musician Otis Taylor gets Denver high school diploma decades after being expelled for hair

A musician who was expelled from a Denver high school over 50 years ago received his diploma. Otis Taylor was kicked out of Manual High School in 1966 because of his hair. This was decades before laws ending racial hair discrimination. Denver Public Schools wanted to right a wrong.

4. Researchers treat depression by reversing brain signals traveling the wrong way (with magnets)

A new study led by Stanford Medicine researchers is the first to reveal how magnetic stimulation treats severe depression: by correcting the abnormal flow of brain signals. Powerful magnetic pulses applied to the scalp to stimulate the brain can bring fast relief to many severely depressed patients for whom standard treatments have failed.

The FDA-cleared treatment, known as Stanford neuromodulation therapy, incorporates advanced imaging technologies to guide stimulation with high-dose patterns of magnetic pulses that can modify brain activity related to major depression. Compared with traditional TMS, which requires daily sessions over several weeks or months, SNT works on an accelerated timeline of 10 sessions each day for just five days.

5. Electricity generation through solar, wind and water exceeded total demand in mainland Spain on Tuesday, a pattern that will be repeated more and more in the future

The Spanish power grid on Tuesday tasted an appetizer of the renewable energy banquet that is expected to flourish in the coming years. For nine hours, between 10 a.m. and 7 p.m., the generation of green electricity was more than enough to cover 100% of Spanish peninsular demand, a milestone that had already been reached on previous occasions, but not for such a prolonged period.

6. RI Senate passes bill making lunch free at all public schools

Free lunch for all public school students in Rhode Island is one step closer to becoming a reality.

Tuesday night the Rhode Island Senate overwhelmingly passed a bill by a vote of 31-4 that would do just that. If the companion bill in the House were to pass, that takes effect July 1. The bill would make breakfast and lunch free for all public school students in the state, regardless of their household income.

7. Critically endangered red wolf pups born at North Carolina Zoo

The North Carolina Zoo in Asheboro celebrated the arrival of “not one but TWO litters” of the world’s most endangered wolf – the red wolf – in late April and early May.

A total of nine pups were born – three to parents Marsh and Roan, and six to Denali and May – the zoo announced on May 9.

----

That's it for this week :)

This newsletter will always be free. If you liked this post you can support me with a small kofi donation:

Buy me a coffee ❤️

Also don’t forget to reblog.

SUBCRIBE HERE for more good news in your inbox