#toxic negotiating team

[daincrediblegg]

I want a Terror Ted Lasso AU.

[556betrayed]

Bully Brett AKA "the Leg Breaker" attempting to recreate TWU 556 history.

Brett Nevarez served as a negotiating team member for TA 2013 which was shot down by 9,916 pissed off flight attendants.

Nevarez also served as TWU 556 2nd VP while sexually harassing rank and file members and disrespecting flight attendants demanding better maternity leave. Many rank and file members attended meetings while signing the Recall Petition demanding his resignation and/ or removal from the negotiating team and/ or the TWU 556 Executive Board. Many showed up in T - shirts saying 'Bye Felicia.

Mr. Leg Breaker retaliated against dissident flight attendants and violated the Railway Labor Act when telling SWA Management to fire innocent rank and file flight attendants. His actions are documented in the transcripts of Carter vs TWU Local 556 and Southwest Airlines. Bully Brett/ Mr. Legbreaker also refused repeatedly a court order to sit for a deposition - following a pattern of arrogance that the law "doesn't apply to him" or the corrupt union leaders/ cronies he serves with.

Say no to Brett Nevarez for any leadership positions with TWU Local 556. Say no to bullies in union leadership. Say no to union officers who have rank and file members fired from their jobs as Southwest Airlines Flight Attendants.

Time to stop the abuse cycle of TWU 556 leaders like this one.

[macbethsymphony]

Negotiations

Dracule Mihawk x Reader

wc: 5.2 k

tw: NSFW, 18+, this is just pure filth guys, it's 5k of smut, there's no plot. Edging, overstimulation, slightly dubcon, fingering, Mihawk has the hyperfocus of a god? this is highly toxic and slightly unethical ngl

Summary: The tale of how a negotiator convinced the marine hunter to consider becoming a warlord.

AO3

Eat, drink, nap, kill marines, drink some more, sleep, and repeat. That was the unvarying routine of Dracule Mihawk, marine hunter. At least, that’s what he’d been up to, these past two months.

Marine hunter. What a fucking joke. Marine killer was more accurate. The man was deranged, his actions driven by an insidious boredom that turned slaughter into a twisted game. It was painfully obvious that he was merely toying with the Marines, savoring the macabre sport, desperately looking for someone who would match his skills. If you had your way, you’d be plotting his demise instead. Though you supposed if you were here, it meant they’d all failed.

Tsuru’s words echoed in your mind, firm and unyielding: “I trust you are able to bring him to the table,” she had said. “You are our best negotiator, after all.”

So, you grit your teeth and set the scene. For in no world was disappointment an option; failing your superiors, especially Tsuru, was unthinkable.

Your officers were meticulously positioned, the bar’s usual faces replaced by those of disguised operatives. Only a few of the establishment's staff remained. A strategic decision to ensure the venue’s operations ran smoothly without drawing suspicion. The air was thick with tension, and you were acutely aware that the slightest misstep could unravel the entire thing. The possibility of disaster loomed large; a single error could transform this carefully orchestrated meeting into a chaotic bloodbath, with no chance of containing Mihawk’s whims.

Your heart pounded with an almost unbearable intensity, a drumbeat of anxiety and anticipation. You reminded yourself that your team were experts, each one adept at their role, and that every detail had been rehearsed to perfection. You could do this. You would succeed where all others had failed.

The door to the bar creaked open, drawing your attention as you smoothly transitioned into your assigned role. “Whiskey, neat, please,” you requested from the bartender, your eyes never leaving the imposing figure in the corner. “Actually, I’ll take the whole bottle.”

You watched with a tight-lipped smile as Mihawk, with deliberate nonchalance, made his way behind the bar. He selected two bottles of fine wine, his movements leisurely, and then settled into his usual spot, a booth in the corner, away from everyone. A fleeting, almost imperceptible smirk played on his lips as he uncorked one of the bottles and poured himself a glass. Your breath caught, a shiver of doubt sliding through you, but you forced yourself to look again. 

Good. 

It was nothing more than a trick of the light.

You downed your glass, slamming it with a bit too much force on the bar counter. 

Everything was falling into place. You had him where you wanted him; all you needed to do was stick to the script. You adjusted your dress, the provocative cut emphasizing every curve. Confidence surged through you. You knew how to handle men like him. This would be no different. 

You approached him, whiskey bottle in hand, your movements practiced and deliberate. “Hello, handsome,” you purred, your voice a silky caress. He would be putty in your hands before long.

But as his gaze locked with yours, the air between you seemed to thicken. The intensity of his stare left you breathless, feeling strangely vulnerable. The mastery you usually wielded over people faltered. You couldn’t decipher him, couldn’t read him. At all.

This was not how it was supposed to go.

Fuck.

Fuck.

You were always in control, always able to manipulate the situation with ease. You were the master and they the puppets. The fact that Mihawk’s inscrutable expression was completely impenetrable threw you off balance.

You were already committed, though. Backing out now was not an option.

“Mind if I sit?” you asked, voice dropping to a husky whisper. You allowed your fingers to trail delicately along his shoulder and then drift over the exposed skin of his chest. Your gaze flickered to the other banquette, the seat occupied by the bulk of his massive sword, back to him. The invitation in your eyes was unmistakable.

For a moment, you thought you glimpsed a spark of amusement in his gaze, but it was so fleeting that you couldn’t be sure. Mihawk tilted his head slightly, the feather on his hat accentuating the movement with a languid grace.

“Be my guest,” he said, his tone flat and devoid of emotion.

He made no move to shift from his position, no move to shift the position of his sword. You bit the inside of your cheek, forcing yourself to maintain composure. The arrangement was deliberate—there was no easy way for you to sit without essentially stepping over him and trapping yourself between him and the wall.

He was toying with you, you realized with a flicker of frustration. But if he wanted a game, you were more than capable of playing along. You were a master of your craft after all. With a deliberate motion, you took the third, more unexpected option. You straddled him, the hem of your already short dress rising even higher as your legs settled to his side. 

You held his gaze steadily as you sipped from the whiskey bottle, slamming it behind you with a practiced flourish once you were done.

His gaze didn’t shift as he drank in your form, lingering on your curves, then back to your features. You did the same, taking him in, the sharpness of his jaw, the solidity of his muscles. You’d already known he was handsome, hours of looking at pictures had told you that, but by the gods above he was almost ethereal. You prayed for a moment that the heat you felt was from the alcohol you just downed. But you knew it wasn’t.

“Bold.” The word snapped you out of your thoughts. “For a marine that is.”

Your spine went cold at the statement. 

He knew. 

Of course, he knew. 

But you were still alive, which meant he was still willing to entertain this scene. 

It’d been a power play you realized a touch too late. He’d just flipped the script you had so carefully prepared. 

Interesting. 

Absolutely thrilling.

You hadn’t expected that he’d be a worthy opponent and you’d let him earn the first point in your carelessness. It didn’t matter, however, you could easily recover from such a small blunder.

You leaned in closer, your breath mingling with his as you whispered, “Boldness is often rewarded, don’t you think, marine hunter?” Your fingers traced lazy patterns on his chest, feeling the marble-like skin, the uneven rhythm hoping to distract in its randomness.

Mihawk’s gaze darkened, his eyes flicking down to your lips before returning to your eyes. “Rewards come in many forms,” his voice was a seductive drawl. “Some more satisfying than others.”

You stopped the patterns, nails digging tenderly into hard muscles as you traveled down.

You let out a soft, breathy laugh, the sound low and inviting. “Well, I do aim to satisfy.” You pursed your lips, emphasizing the word. Your fingers continued their path, slipping to rest on his belt buckle, playing with the metal. “But satisfaction is a two-way street. What would it take to make you happy, Mihawk?”

His hand moved, a distracting caress tracing up your thigh, stopping right under the hem of your dress. The touch was electrifying, sending a shiver down your spine. “Happiness is a fleeting emotion,” he said, his eyes boring into yours. His fingers roamed back down, nails digging softly in the plush skin, mirroring your previous actions. “I prefer something more... enduring.”

Fuck.

He was good.

You swallowed, your mouth suddenly dry. “And what might that be?”

He smirked, a predatory gleam taking over the amber hues of his eyes. “Isn’t that your job to figure out, little marine?”

You bit your lip trying to come back. He wasn’t just good, he was almost your match. You could feel the unbridled heat of desire starting to swirl through your veins at the challenge. “I’m very good at my job,” you whispered, your voice dripping with insinuations as you leaned closer, your lips a hair’s breadth away. “I’m sure I can find a way to please you.”

Mihawk’s fingers traveled back up your thigh, right past the hem of your dress, dug in before the curve of your rear, the pressure a mix of pleasure and pain. “I wasn’t aware, the marines sent whores to negotiate their deals.” He looked down at you, a sneer nearly breaking his lips. 

You felt a sliver of satisfaction. He’d almost cracked. Soooo, he had standards. He didn’t like things too easy, did he? You could play with that. 

You laughed, your hands roaming up, palms flat against his chest. You traced the sharpness of his jaw. “Oh no.” You brought the tips of your fingers to his lips. “I’m not here to whore myself out. But if it brings you to the table, I’m sure I can find the sweetest cunt on the grand line for you.”

His eyes narrowed, a dangerous glint flashing through them as he considered your words. You were suddenly reminded of how he held every card, how you were at the mercy of his every caprice. You only happened to hold his attention for now, only happened to entertain him enough for him to let you and your squadron live. He was THE marine hunter. It didn’t matter if every officer in the establishment were to pull their weapons out and point at him. He’d be fine and you’d all be dead. The tension between you crackled like a storm about to break, every touch and every word a loaded gun.

“What a tempting offer,” he finally said, his voice a low purr that sent your heart racing in more ways than one. “But I find that I prefer a more... personal touch.”

To punctuate his point his hand reached further, against the curve of your ass, before coming back and digging in your hip, pressing you down to him. You almost moaned, every fiber of your being fighting the primal urges that strained to be free. You let out a silent gasp instead. This was going too far, getting out of your grasp. A mistake. An admission of your desires. You were slipping more by the moment. You moved your hand up, giving the signal for everyone to vacate. You’d have to do this alone, you wouldn’t risk so many lives on your inability to handle one man.

Mihawk noticed the subtle movement of your hand, his eyebrow arching with curiosity and a hint of amusement. “Calling off your dogs, are you? Either you’re very confident or very foolish,” he commented, his tone teasing yet edged with something sharper.

You felt a touch of annoyance prick at the edge of your mind. He was rubbing it in. Toying with you, trying to tease out reactions. Even though you felt anything but confident, you flashed a daring smile, the tension between you sparking with the undercurrent of unsaid words. 

You resumed your mindless patterns on his chest, slowly getting lower and lower. "Let's just say I would rather handle the finer details of these negotiations with more privacy. Make room for more... satisfying outcomes."

His fingers continued their dance along your side, dipping dangerously close to forbidden territory. Mihawk's smirk deepened as he seemed to see right through you, fixed right on your uncertainty. You felt yourself flailing, felt yourself losing your composure. 

“Privacy can certainly be... conducive to more fruitful negotiations,” he murmured, a dark caress relishing on the hold he held on you. He leaned in, reaching for his glass of wine. He took a slow sip, watching the gears turn in your head before putting it back behind you. “So what is it you want?” He asked, his hand grabbing to your chin, moving your head side to side with an appraising look, making you look at him.

You took a steadying breath, leaning into his touch, playing along with his game. “Oh not much,” You cooed, hand reaching his at your face, splaying it along your cheek, brushing your lips on his palm. ”I’ve only been instructed to get you to the negotiation table, nothing more, nothing less.” You dragged his hand down, spreading it along your throat bringing it over your heart. “I’m sure I could at the very least get you to consider it?”

It all happened too fast. You heard the sound of glass shattering on the floor before you registered the change in perspective. The hold he had over your throat was harsh as he pinned you down to the table, the remnants of the wine pooling in the tile like spilled blood.

“You think you can just waltz in and sway me with a few promises, like a common man?” There was something nearing disappointment in his tone and you realized you’d messed up. You’d been too hasty, too forward, he had been hoping to play longer. “How about this little marine, show me how badly you need me to do what you need and if you’re entertaining enough, I might consider it.”

The shift in Mihawk’s demeanor was almost terrifying in its intensity, and you struggled to keep your composure as his grip tightened on your throat. Your mind raced, trying to find a way to turn the situation back in your favor. The room was deathly silent in its emptiness, the tension palpable and if it wasn’t for the stiffness of his crotch against yours you’d think you’d lost all of your cards.

It might just get you killed but you arched your back beneath him, pressing into him. Your thighs trembled at his side as you struggled for breath but still, your hands grasped at his over your throat, pushing him further against you, cutting your airflow almost completely. If he wanted a show, then you’d give him one he’d remember until his last moments on earth.

Mihawk’s grip on your throat tightened for a second and you thought for an instant that this was it, that the underworld awaited you. But before darkness could cloud your eyes he loosened it, his gaze glinting with a mixture of curiosity and dark amusement. You could feel the rapid beat of your heart echoing in your ears as you gasped for breath, your whole body shaking beneath his. The room seemed to pulse with the intensity of the moment, every sense heightened.

“You’re quite the performer,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble that only served to enhance the heat building between your legs. “But I’m not easily swayed by theatrics. Show me something real.”

You swallowed hard, your throat still aching from his grip, but you forced a smile. “Real, you say?” You let your hands glide away from his wrist, trailed your curves, and slipped the straps of your dress off from your shoulders, revealing more skin and black lace. “I can do real.”

Mihawk’s eyes darkened with interest, his gaze tracing the path of your hands as they moved. He released his grip on your throat, his fingers now trailing down to your collarbone, leaving a searing embers in their wake. The intensity in his stare was almost overwhelming, and you knew you had to find a way to keep control of the situation, even if it felt like you were barely holding on.

You grasped his hand, guiding it along your bare skin, to the plushness of your breast. “What is it you truly desire, Mihawk? Power? Control? Or perhaps something more... visceral?” You practically moaned out the words. 

His hand lingered on the lace, pushing it aside, fingers tracing lazy circles. The air between you was electric, charged with unspoken promises and the underlying tension of a predator toying with its prey.  This was a delicate game. You let out a soft moan, arching your back further, pressing yourself against him, rolling your hips.

A smirk broke on his lips as he saw right through your little performance. He knew exactly what game you were playing, and it was clear he was enjoying every moment of it. His hand moved with deliberate slowness, tracing the curve of your breast, his touch a maddening mix of gentle and firm. The control you sought seemed to slip further from your grasp with each passing second.

“And what do you propose, little marine?”

You let out a soft, breathy laugh. “I propose we make this interesting. A game, if you will. You test my… resolve, and I test yours. We both get what we want.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “A game, you say? And what are the stakes?”

You bit your lip, your hand guiding his lower, your fingers ushering his along the dripping lace of your underwear. “If I can prove my worth to you, you agree to come to the negotiation table. If I fail...” You paused, letting the weight of the words hang between you. “If I fail, you can do with me as you please.”

He pushed aside the ruined fabric, the pads of his fingers meeting your slick before dipping inside. “You’re playing a dangerous game, little marine.” His smirk widened as a moan escaped you. “What makes you think I can’t just take what I want?”

The words hung in the air, thick with implication. You felt the intensity of his gaze boring into you, the heat from his touch searing into your skin. As though to emphasize his point, his thumb found your clit, tracing slow, deliberate circles, each movement sending jolts of pleasure through your body, mewls you tried to muffle out of your lips.

You swallowed hard, your breath coming in ragged gasps. “You could,” you admitted, your hand wrapping around his wrist as he moved his fingers in a come-hither motion, pressing all those delightfully right spots. Your eyes fluttered shut for a moment, fingers trembling, nails digging into him as a wave of ecstasy washed over you. You struggled to come back, half-lidded eyes meeting his. “But I’m sure I can make it much, much more entertaining for you if you decide to play along.”

His eyes flickered with a mixture of amusement and dark curiosity. “You certainly know how to make an offer enticing.” He leaned in close, his breath touching your lips. “But from where I’m standing you’re already breaking.”

He was right, you were so close to falling apart under him. "Am I not to your pleasing?" You asked, voice trembling against his. You reached up and discarded his hat, your fingers seeking to tangle in his hair. “Am I not entertaining enough for you, marine hunter?”

He chuckled, his lips brushing over yours. His fingers continued their tantalizing exploration, pushing you closer to the edge with each deliberate movement. He was testing you, pushing your limits to see how far you could go. And yet, despite the overwhelming intensity, you were determined to hold your ground.

“You are quite pleasing,” he admitted, his voice was thick with lust and its intensity almost sent you over. “But I wonder, how much more can you take before you beg for mercy?”

You bit your lip, a mixture of defiance and desire burning in your eyes. “I don’t beg, Mihawk. That’s what makes it interesting.”

His smirk widened, his fingers pressing deeper, eliciting another soft moan from you. “Bold words, little marine. Very bold indeed. Let’s see if that’s true.”

His lips met yours, slow and teasing, a dance of dominance and submission, a battle for control, a negotiation of its own. He moved against you with a practiced precision, each movement calculated to draw out your reactions. You could feel the intensity of his desire, the raw power behind each touch.

You were close. So fucking close. 

You swore under your breath as he suddenly stopped.

“I wonder what will make you break the fastest.” Satisfaction was evident in his voice as he felt you flutter around his fingers. “Denial or pleasure?”

Your breath hitched at Mihawk's words, the sensation of his fingers lingering just out of reach driving you to the edge of your sanity. This was a dangerous game, one where you had to balance the razor's edge between control and surrender. If… if you managed to hold out long enough… even he couldn’t resist lust forever. 

You couldn't let him see just how close you were to breaking.

Drawing on every ounce of willpower, you forced a sly smile. Your hands left his hair and traced down his chest. "Why not try both and find out?" 

He interrupted their path as you reached his belt. Deftly he brought them over your head, his weight pinning you entirely in place as he started moving his fingers again. His eyes gleamed as he looked down at you, relishing the arch of your body against his, relishing your struggle. 

He leaned close, his breath hot against your ear. "Now, now,” he tutted at you. “You can’t just skip ahead. Let's see how long you can endure."

Before you could respond, his lips descended on yours again, demanding and possessive. The kiss was bruising, filled with the same intensity that characterized every touch and word between you. His fingers made you see stars, their exploration agonizingly slow, teasing you mercilessly, never quite giving you what you needed.

You moaned into his mouth, bucked against his hand, your every instinct overtaken by a desperate need for release. The tension between you was unbearable, every nerve ending screaming for more. 

He stopped and started again and again and again, until you struggled with your breath and your whole body quivered and sang to each of his demands.

Mihawk's lips left yours, trailing down your jawline to your neck, his teeth grazing your skin in a way that almost made you lose your mind. "You're holding up better than I expected," he murmured against your skin, biting softly on your exposed nipple before soothing it with his tongue.

You barely managed a breathless laugh, closer to sobs than anything. "I told you, Mihawk. I don't break easily."

He chuckled, a sound that was both dark and amused. "We'll see about that."

His fingers moved with a different purpose now, driving you closer and closer to the edge, fast and hard. You could feel the tension coiling within you, the impending release just out of reach. And still, he held you there, teetering on the brink, refusing to let you fall.

It was maddening, the way he controlled you so effortlessly, drawing out every ounce of pleasure and frustration until you thought you might lose your mind. And yet, you couldn't help but crave more and he couldn’t help but to push you further, to see just how far you could go before you finally shattered.

"Please," you whispered, the word slipping out before you could stop it.

You felt his smile against your skin. “There we go,” he drawled out the words. “The little marine knows how to beg after all.”

With a sudden, devastating precision, he drove you over the edge, his fingers moving in perfect rhythm to bring you to the peak of ecstasy. You cried out, your body convulsing with the force of your release, your muscles straining against his hold.

As you came back to reality, he withdrew his fingers, leaving you gasping at the sudden loss. He brought his hand to your mouth, his eyes never leaving yours. “Taste your resolve, little marine.”

You opened your mouth, taking his fingers in, your tongue swirling around them, tasting the remnants of your desire. The act was a surrender and he watched you with contentment, his gaze victorious.

“Good girl,” his voice was a satisfied purr, one that made your mind feel fuzzy and your body hot. “Now let’s see how well you break under pleasure.” 

His hands moved to your hips, his grip firm as he repositioned you with ease, brought you closer to the edge of the table. You felt some of your slick cooled by time, seep into the fabric of your dress, against your lower back as he pulled you over the puddle of arousal that had been slowly gathering on the wooden top.

His movements were deliberate, calculated, his eyes never leaving yours as he took off his belt, the leather sliding through the loops with a whispering sound. He eyed it for a moment, a slow smile spreading across his lips before his attention came back to you. 

“Will you be a good?” His tone was threatening. “Or do I have to restrain you again?”

You swallowed hard, your breath catching in your throat. The challenge was unmistakable.  “I can be good,” you whispered, your voice hoarse but it sounded unconvincing, even to your ears. The thought of being powerless under his hold once again was somehow unbearable.

Mihawk’s smile widened, a dangerous glint in his eyes. “I don’t think you can, little marine.”

With a swift motion, he looped the belt around your wrists, pulling it tight enough to restrain but not to hurt. The leather bit into your skin, the sensation unnerving.

”You’re just waiting for a chance to turn the tables, aren’t you?”

You quirked your head to the side, a hint of defiance shining through. “Can you blame me?” He let go of your hands and you made no effort to keep them up, letting them drop to your stomach. “It’s not fair if you hold ALL the cards.”

“Fairness is a luxury, little marine.” His hands moved to your thighs, pushing them apart with a firm, insistent pressure. “A luxury one can rarely indulge in when playing to win.”

He paused for a moment, his gaze raking over your form, something you couldn’t decipher spreading on his features, an intensity you’d only ever seen on wild animals.

“I must admit, you’re quite the sight.” His fingers traced the edge of your underwear. With a swift motion, he tore the delicate fabric away, leaving you completely exposed. “But I think you’ll be much more entertaining once broken.”

Your breath caught in your throat in a small hiccup, the threat in his words not escaping you. Your eyes stood at a standstill as he deliberately slowly undid his pants.

His cock met your heat, gathering your slick and the soft pressure on your oversensitive clit made you want to twist and buck beneath him. He brought one of your already trembling legs over his shoulder, his hand roaming up and down in a soothing touch. 

You felt his tip at your entrance, the slow delightful stretch as he entered you in a tortuously unhurried advance. Your entire body reacted to the sensation, you arched beneath him, your eyes fluttering close, your wrists strained against your bindings desperate to hold unto something, anything to ground you. The pleasure was intense, almost overwhelming and as he met your cervix you couldn’t help the sharp cry that escaped your lips, nor the tears gathering in your eyes.

“You’re so tight, little marine,” Mihawk chuckled, taking in every detail of the moment and searing it in his mind. “So responsive. I can feel you clenching around me, trying to hold on.” 

His movements were controlled, each thrust calculated to draw out your reactions, to push you closer to the edge. You wouldn’t beg. You wouldn’t cry for mercy. You were so close. Each drag of his cock against your fluttering walls was heavenly. The room seemed to fade away, the only thing that mattered was the sensation of him inside you. 

You could feel the dam within you beginning to crack and then his hand found your clit once more and your breath stopped. It was too much. You came around him with a desperate gasp.

He didn’t stop, his thrusts still perfectly controlled. You knew the overstimulation was coming but it didn’t prepare you for the moment it washed over you. Your eyes shot open and makeup blurred tears stained your cheeks. You fought as though it was a matter of life or death. It was too much. Too fucking much. But his hands held you firmly in place, unable to escape his relentless assault.

And then a second orgasm rippled through your veins, blinding and even more intense than the first. 

But he still didn’t stop. Your cries stuck at the back of your throat, sobs wreaking your body. 

“Please,” you couldn’t help but beg again and again, your limbs so taut beneath him it was painful.

As his laugh hit your ears, you realized he didn’t care. Realized he was having fun. Your body twisted violently beneath him, too harsh for him to control and he let out an annoyed click of his tongue before flipping you over, the edge of the table digging hard into your hips as he entered you again. 

“Mercy,” you pleaded, wrists straining so intensely against your bindings that you knew you’d be nursing those red marks for days.

“Already?” His hand kneaded your ass roughly, pushing you even more painfully against the wooden top. “How disappointing, little marine.” His touch snaked up along your spine and tangled forcefully in your hair, keeping you pinned down and struggling against his hold. “I’m just getting started.”  He punctuated his statement with an especially sharp movement of his hips.

Your legs kicked in the air as another orgasm rippled through you, and you felt your arousal drip down your thigh and your drool seep out of your redded lips.

The world was careening around you and you couldn’t breathe and waves of pleasure washed over you so fast that your mind couldn’t keep up anymore. You eventually went slack beneath him, your entire body surrendering, and only then did his rhythm start to falter. 

He turned you back around, and you didn’t struggle, fully pliant for him. His fingers found your lips, played with the spit on your tongue, kept your mouth open as he reached closer to his own release. 

“Mercy,” you begged one last time, your words muffled, your lips wrapping against his fingers.

And he smiled, a predatory, victorious smile and you couldn’t help but think he looked ethereal in this moment. His hips stuttered one once more, his seed hot inside you and you clenched around him, white blurring your vision for the umpteenth time. 

He slowly pulled out, his gaze dropping to your entrance, watching his cum dribble out with a lust-blown stare. Your whole body still shook in the aftermath, your breath scattered and you spasmed at the feeling, a last vestige of submission as you whimpered. 

His fingers left your mouth and almost tenderly wiped your tear-stained cheek, brushing strands of hair that had been plastered on your sweat-covered skin behind your ear. His gaze stayed on you, considering.

“You’ve been more interesting than I expected,” He admitted as he pulled back up his pants.  “Very well, I’ll consider your offer on one condition.” He gently unraveled his belt, his hand lingering on your wrists and you gave a sharp hiss of pain he seemed to drink in with delight. 

“And that is?” you asked, your voice sounding far away, not your own.

He lazily passed the leather back in the belt loops, put back on his hat, making you wait.

“You’re the one who handles the negotiations. Just you and I. No one else.”

A slow smile of victory made its way to your lips.

“I’m sure that can be arranged.”

Masterlist

Might consider making a part 2, but don't hold me to that.

[adventuringblind]

Sunrise

Oscar Piastri x Autistic!Reader

Genre: Angst

Summary: The fans and media get to Oscar’s girlfriend in a way he’ll never forgive

Warnings: SUICIDE AND SH depictions, toxic media, death threats, lack of communication, anxiety, Oscar is a mess.

Notes: …. We’re not talking about my patterns alright. I swear I’m in therapy.

Masterlist

Oscar is not normally an irrational person. He prides himself on his calm and collected state. Something that his neurodivergent counterpart loves because it makes him easy to read. Everything is clear to her with him.

He adores his girlfriend. Plans to eventually marry her one day. He doesn’t care that her body isn’t the ‘standard’ for beauty because he finds her stunning. He doesn’t care that she has deep passions for her interests and could talk for hours about it because he loves listening.

So why is it his fans don’t get that same thing? Why do the vultures have to attack her for doing nothing wrong?

He ponders these questions as he sits in the hospital waiting room. Fingers crossed he got to her in time.

~

She’d turned off all her notifications on social media. She had to. For some reason now that Oscar and McLaren are on track and fighting again, people are seeming to notice her more often.

Gone are the days of sneaking off into the quiet corners. Numbered are the days she’ll be able to spend with him at this rate.

The death threats started a month ago. To many things she’d rather not think about. The name calling is flat out unnecessary and something she doesn’t understand.

She knows logically nothing can come if it. But the nagging at her brain won’t stop for some reason. She hates it, being empathetic. She just feels so extremely that she can’t decipher if the words hurt her or if she’s angry and why she feels this way. It’s to much for her mind to process.

So she turns everything off. No social media for her.

She’d simply told Oscar the hate was to much and she needs a break from the internet. Which isn’t a lie, but she didn’t want him to worry about her and start doing poorly because of it.

Instead curled up underneath her blankets with music and switched off the world.

~

Oscar is feeling alright with fifth in Hungary. Not exactly where he wants to be, but it’s still considerably better then where he was previously.

As is routine, he gets into the garage as quickly as he can. The one thing he managed to negotiate for with his PR team: the he gets to check in on his girlfriend before he does media duties.

He peers inside. It’s mostly empty due to the incoming podium celebration. But there is no sign of her. Nothing is the garage or his driver room or Lando’s room, or the bathroom.

His heart thuds in his chest. This is routine, and she always sticks to her routine. If she’s not here then something must be terribly wrong. Oscar pulls out his phone to see he has a text from her and the weight on him lessens just a tad.

‘Sorry I won’t be there for the end of the race! I was feeling incredibly sick so I went back to the hotel room! I love you so much! 🧡🖤’

And suddenly that weight is back. If she left then something is clearly wrong. She’s stayed through blurry vision from migraines, endured hours of overstimulation for him, even dealt with his fans pushing her around. Yet she always stayed. If something caused her to leave then it’s definitely something to worry about.

He ended up missing the podium celebration. His PR manager is looking for him. But he could care less and heads straight for Zak.

He gives a brief summary of what’s going on and defines is as an emergency. That word was what made Zak let him go as long as he promised to keep everyone posted.

Then he ran.

~

Race weekends have come to be one of her favorite things. The consistent hum of car engines stimulates her brain in a way that she loves.

What she doesn’t love is the fans. She wonders for a moment if all the WAG’s have this kind of hate. So she sets off to go find Lily and ask. She’s become close with her over the course of this year. She’s also passionate about things and it’s fun to listen to her get excited over her interests. Something the female can relate to well.

When she neared the Williams hospitality, she saw Lily and waved her over only to be stopped in her tracks by a few fans in McLaren gear. She instantly took notices of the very blatant disregard for personal space and the negative energy they carried with them.

Then they out in some fake smiles and handed her an envelope, walking away without a word.

She was left confused and stunned. But also curious. The envelope in her hands had some weight to it and she can’t help but wonder what’s inside.

She doesn’t hesitate to open it. Her eyes scanning over the contents. Every second she looks at it makes her feel sick to her stomach.

Someone had been stalking them. Not just her and Oscar, but Lando as well. Addresses, pictures, personal information, even images from intimate moments where they are very clearly without clothes.

She could see the possibility of her and maybe Oscar being stalked if these are the same fans who have been harassing her for a couple months now. But Lando as well makes her feel dirty and upset in a way.

It’s to much. She feels to much. It’s overwhelming.

She stuffs everything back inside and finally gets to Lily. A brief excuse leaves her lips that she’s going back to the hotel cause she’s feeling sick. She takes note of Lily’s instant concern and the female does her best to fight back every emotion. It’s utterly draining. She has no energy to sort out her feelings and other peoples feelings when she can’t understand any of them anyway.

Lily lets her go on the condition she texts her when she gets back to the hotel.

She agrees. She'll be messaging everyone when she gets there.

~

Oscar gets into his car and fumbles around for the keys.

He left them with his stuff. His stuff that he doesn't have. Now he's going to have to run all the way back.

He gets out and heads straight to the McLaren garage. Ignoring the strange looks.

He even tries pulling his phone out to call her. Straight to voicemail. Twenty times.

Halfway there, he runs into Lando. The Brit is winded and carrying Oscar's things.

"I'm driving."

~

She can't believe she's actually going to do this. It's not that she's never thought about it before. Feeling alien on your own planet will do that to you. But she feels like she has no other choice.

It's too much. The fans want her dead, and they are willing to do horrible things to get it.

She can't handle it. The feelings of all of it are overwhelming. She can't tell where her emotions end and someone else's start. The letter written to her only points out further.

The last few months have been beyond her limit. She doesn't feel safe in her own skin. Everyone is telling her she'll never be enough. That she is not meant for this life.

She'd thought about her friends as she wrote those damn notes. The blank looks when she says something lnnapropriat for the conversation. The times she's had meltdowns and they had to deal with her.

She thinks about Oscar, too. His note is three pages long. It's intimate, and she hopes he can understand it. Words she's written countless times the last months to make sure he understands her decision.

She lays it out where she knows he'll see it and then locks herself in the bathroom. The bathtub is filled with ice-cold water and not filled all the way to the top. Just enough to make things easy.

Is she really doing this because those damn fans are going to leak everything about their lives tonight if she doesn't? Certainly a factor in her decision. It seems the logical solution if she's to fix the problem. She hates herself for this; that she can't just be what everyone wants.

That thought brings the first cut.

She didn't bother taking off her clothes. She hates the feeling. They cling to her skin and it makes her want to peel her skin off.

The second cut is for her clothing.

Then the third.

And a fourth.

The fifth makes her dizzy.

The sixth causes her vision to dance.

The seventh and eighth she can't even register.

Everything is numb by nine and ten.

Then nothing.

~

Oscar and Lando take three steps at a time.

Apparently, Lando had run into Lily and found out what had happened. The Brit also felt his stomach drop with the feeling something is wrong.

Oscar sprints down the hall when they make it to the right floor. Fumbles around with his key card. Then, finally, he gets the door open.

He scans the room. There is paper stacked neatly on the table. An envelop almost thrown to the side.

He looks at the note addressed to him, and he chokes. Lando is searching for any sign of life but the Aussie can't see past the fact that there are fans asking her to kill herself. And that she felt the need to say yes because now they have stalkers.

He'll think about it later. Right now, Lando is screaming for him.

He barrels to where the voice comes from. Again, he chokes. This time on frantic tears.

Lando is looking like he might pass out, but the Brit is staying strong for his teammate and friend. He tries to get Oscar to help him.

She may be passed out, but the Aussie registers Lando saying she has a pulse. That she's still breathing even if it's shallow.

They work together to drag her out of the water. Her make it so that when they set her down, she immediately is sliding on the tile. They wrap her arm in wash rags. The only thing they can find to slow the bleeding. But the cuts are too deep. It doesn't slow.

So they call an ambulance.

Oscar doesn't register much after that. Listening to Lando instruct him on what to do, including breathing. Riding with her to the hospital. Watching her be taken away. Meeting Lando in the waiting room.

Now he has nothing to do but wait and look through everything he missed.

Her socials are where she's being threatened, sure. But it's the contents of the envelope that got Oscar angry. Way past the point of livid.

"Lan, I- what the hell." He shows everything to his teammate, and terror stretches across his face.

And then she was left with a ticking clock and an ultimatum. Disappear or have all this and more released to the public. What better way to disappear than to do it permanently.

It breaks him. He can't breathe past the thought of not having her around. He can't live knowing she left because the world is suck a cruel place. And he feels utterly selfish for wishing her to stay with him through it.

Somehow, he ended up on the floor, sobbing dramatically into Lando's sweatshirt.

But then others start to appear. It's not just the two of them because there are so many people that care for her.

Max shows up first with a certain Monegasque in tow, followed by Alex and Lily, the latter of which looks about as broken as him. Then George and Lewis appear, followed by Logan.

They explain what happened. Everyone is shocked, and there are no words between them for a few minutes as everyone processes.

"I don't understand why someone would do this." Pipes Max. He knows about death threats fairly well, but this is a new level of extreme.

"We could say something. Make a statement about it and start a suicide awareness campaign." Lewis suggests.

Oscar knows a campaign probably won't do much against whoever sent this, but a statement might. He wants to say everything on his mind.

And that's exactly what he did. His PR team be damned because this takes precedence.

~

She wasn't expecting to wake up. She wasn't supposed to wake up. So how is she awake?

She cracks her eyes open just a tad to assess her surroundings. Her arm is bandaged and she's underneath some of the worst textures to come in contact with.

The thing that catches her eye is the brown locks of a specific Australian. She moves her hand to them and runs her fingers gently along his scalp.

he shifts around a bit before relaxing into the feeling. At least she could give him this before she ruins his and Lando's life.

She's not sure how long they go on like this until Oscar sits up and yawns. He blinks a few times and adjusts himself to the florescent lights.

She's not sure she's ever seen Oscar cry before. Once at a really sad movie, but even that was just slight. Now he's crying tears for her. The sound makes her tear ducts spring into action as well.

"Please, don't ever do that again." He rasps. His voice crackles with the sound of sobs.

She doesn't say anything. She can't say anything. So instead, Oscar crawls into the bed with her. He just cradles her body into his.

"I'm sorry." Is all she manages to say. And after a few more breathes she continues. "I didn't want to be the reason you and Lando lose your jobs. Or be the cause of your stress. And then everything felt like it was too much, and I just wanted it to stop." She feels pathetic.

"I promise that I will never be upset with you for something like this. The fans pushed and pushed and then drove you into a corner. But in the future, you have to come to me. I can't help if you don't communicate with me."

"What about racing? And Lando? And all your personal information?" The weight she'd had before has made a sudden return.

"Should be taken care of. We beat them to the punch and made a statement about how someone close to McLaren had been threatened and the person responsible would be posting personal information." Oscar explains. She feels better knowing they didn't say it was her name. "I also said I would be taking a break from socials for personal reasons... and also said something about how much I love you."

~

The news came out eventually. It's not every day that F1 driver's campaign for mental health. But they've all been incredibly helpful. She is on the road to recovery and Oscar intends on being with her through every step of the way.

[multiverse239]

Analysis on this scene cause I think about it way too often

Floyd tells Veneer that he should let him run past him and that Ven can just say he never saw him. The way that Floyd says this more or less implies that he wants to negotiate with Veneer here as they both know how pissed Velvet would be if Ven willingly let Floyd go.

Veneer denied this due to being scared about how Velvet would react AND FLOYD CAN TELL as he firmly but calmly explains to Ven that Vel being his (older) sister doesn’t give her the right to treat him so horribly.

Veneer’s response to this being “doesn’t it?” highlights the toxicity of him and Vel’s relationship cause he thought her pushing him around was just normal sibling behavior. Keeping in mind, it’s semi implied the twins didn’t/don’t have any other allies besides each other so Veneer sees her as his safe haven, the only person that’s there for him and always will be (that’s my interpretation anyway)

Floyd then tells Veneer “Sibling or not, you deserve to be treated with kindness and be around people who would never to change the you that you are”. His tone of voice here is sympathetic because yeah Floyd has been EXACTLY where Ven is right now; he thinking about how his family split up cause of the eldest brother’s obsession with perfection, he doesn’t want Veneer and his sister go down that same path (again just my interpretation)

Velvet later interrupts their conversation seeing Veneer was able to get Floyd, she tells him in a pretty condescending way “I know I probably don’t say this a lot but good job” implying that she overheard Floyd and Veneer convo and is essentially trying to butter up Ven is hand her Floyd

Veneer is hesitant to do it at first until Vel tells him “We really make a great team don’t we bro?” which makes Ven sadly smiled at her and gives Floyd away just like that. Ofc Veneer still feels guilty about how the whole thing but, bushes it off when him and Velvet go prepare for their show

[slutforpringles]

If that retirement thing is true, i'm most baffled about what is red bull's plan going forward. Because:

1. Yuki has never been considered for promotion to rbr, mostly everyone agree that he's in vcarb only to appease honda.

2. Putting rookies hasn't payed out really well as well

3. Reports suggest Daniel is not very willing to have anything to do with red bull

Has the team lost all their braincells and didn't really think through the consequences of dropping Daniel (well we do know for sure they didn't consider consequences to their public image) or are they that convinced that liam is the next Max? It just doesn't seem logical at all

I will say if the retirement rumours are true (although Checo's story is kinda telling in terms of how confident he currently feels in the second RB seat) then I think it does suggest there is some truth to the Daniel was actually Red Bull's plan for the 2025 seat before whatever the fuck happened over the last couple of weeks.

The latest The Race podcast had some really interesting comments on Lawson, namely that he has repeatedly throughout his career adapted very quickly to a new car/environment but also very quickly reached his own ceiling. So given that, it's not entirely surprising he did a good job hopping into the AT last season, but I think Red Bull are aware that just because he did OK for five races, that doesn't necessarily point towards him having long-term high level success in F1. I think they KNOW he's not the next Max, and Horner's comments about Lindblad (or even Hadjar) show they are both more exciting prospects to the team I think.

The Yuki situation is tricky, because I think the Honda connection is obviously part of it, but I think it's his temperament more than anything that's stopping Red Bull trying him in the second Red Bull. And I do think he has improved a lot in that regard (and I think Daniel has had a very large influence in that), but even the difference between Daniel and Yuki's reactions to the team orders situation in Singapore made it abundantly clear why Red Bull still have reservations.

Personally I think Daniel very much deserves to be as far away from the people that treated him like absolute crap as possible, BUT if Red Bull came crawling back needing him and he was in a good negotiating position then I wouldn't blame him for wanting that final shot at a few more race wins and to finish off his career properly.

I think Red Bull is so caught up in their own game of power and toxic politicking that many a decision this year has been in furtherance of someone's agenda as opposed to actually about being the right/best decision for the team.

[love-toxin]

yes pls tell me all ur thoughts on blade, luocha, gepard, jingyuan and kafka 😳 the eng va and trailers for jingyuan and kafka in particular got me acting up—just smthing about jingyuan’s lil smirk and laid bk countenance and how i know he can fuck the daylights out of anyone effortlessly—and kafka? yes ma’am anything for u pls slam ur foot against the wall behind me 🙏🏻

god bless im literally in love w/ all of them anon. would give my left nut for blade, luocha or jing yuan, gepard and kafka carry my team so hard. also bc i want them to step on my face.

also i wanna be toxic rn so under the cut ⬇️⬇️

blade -> prrrrrrrrr. big daddy. idk why but he gives me discord kitten daddy dom vibes. he manspreads. he gets pussy. he probably doesn't shower as often as he should. he's unapologetically a rude bitch. he absolutely girlbosses you into being his baby, he pulls out the "i feel nothing but you give me a taste of life" and keeps you so close you're basically part of him. handsy and off-putting in public for passersby but you can't get his hands off you, it's a losing battle babe. nd he's nasty freaky slimy and rubs his cock against you as a sign he wants to go home or just find someplace quiet. he doesn't like fucking you out in the open but he'll do it if the need arises--like if you "forget" that your body & soul belongs to him and need a harsh reminder. you're just his delicate little kitty after all, so if anyone's gonna break you it should be someone you love unconditionally. right?

kafka -> gatekeep. gaslight. girldaddy. beats you up and makes you say thank you. you're her pet so get used to it, but she'll feed you once in a while so you should be glad, puppy. she's the mean tall girlfriend who babies you and then spits in your mouth for a treat. her & blade treat you like a pet and if she's feeling extra mean she strips you down and makes you kneel between them with nothing to cover yourself. if you're good and give them a lil show they'll let you go early, they promise (lie). humping kafka's pillow to get your scent all over it becomes a nightly ritual to help her sleep, no it is non-negotiable, it is in your spouses' contract that she signed with your hand while you slept. it also states that your face may be used in any and all leisure activities at her discretion--mainly for her to push your head between her legs and lazily give you an order as she sifts through documents. you might be her pet, but that doesn't mean she doesn't love you. at least as far as you can tell.

luocha -> ngl idk that much about him yet but he's immediately unhinged bf-shaped. stupid and drunk on thoughts of you & gives you his credit card details on the first date. he's gross and wants to bite your thighs. begging to be drowned in pussy/choked with cock. you're so pretty and he's so dirty by comparison. he can't blame you for not wanting his gross dick anywhere near you, guess all he can do is eat you out <33 oh noooooo! what a tragedy! sike. he loves that shit. he's got meds to make you squirt too. ik he's not that kinda healer but don't tell me unhinged luocha wouldn't have a ball drugging you both up and taking you for a ride. he wouldn't even know his name once the high dies down, just the feeling of your lips leaving stray kisses all down his face as you try to stay awake.

jing yuan -> daddy 2.0. a dilf with no kids. 1000% goes into husband mode the second you're within reach. chill & soft & uwu until everyone's outta the office, then he becomes a menace to society and your underwear. he cums in them before you leave for the day so you don't forget him <3 you can have a cheeky one in your mouth on his lunch break if you're good. ♀️ he beats your pussy up cock-first for hurting his bbg with your period. he still doesn't get enough of you in the day so he creeps on you at night, rubs one out on your thighs while you sleep and flips over to go right back to snoring afterwards. you can never have too much cum on you--that's his wisdom and as your superior general you should probably believe it, no? don't worry, he can fuck with your job and your life and your friends and your money and your heart until you find it within yourself to agree.

gepard -> dummy boy goody-two-shoes. he likes fuckin in the uniform and being called "captain" i am not taking criticism at this time. dumb little captured stellaron hunter & horny silvermane captain roleplay. moans in your ear during sex. he moans like a girl and he hates it but it's hot and he cums 10x faster if you tell him just how hot it is. he's so big & tall he just makes you feel like a little bunch of grapes when he picks you up, nd he's self-conscious about how weird it is that he likes seeing your face scrunch up in pain when he eases you on his cock but it's just too big. the gravity makes it all feel too much when he sits you on his lap like that but you just wiggle around on it rather than get off, and he's a fiend for it. also consider clean, prim, missionary-lover gepard falling in love with rimming you & feeling like a dirty mutt for enjoying it so much & begging you for it when he's in need. asking him to take a shower with you turns into code for "let's do anal against the tile please" real quick.

[gojoonsaturn]

pairing: Kento Nanami x fem reader

wc: 3470

a/n: part 3 to this work

warnings: angst, depression, suicidial thoughts, hurt/comfort, funny sibling's moments with Satoru, exorcism, a bit of a toxic relationship english is not my first language, so I'm sorry about mistakes :(

2013.

You didn’t reject your idea of helping Jujutsu societies outside of Japan even after breaking up with Nanami. On the evening of graduation day, you hastily packed your belongings with tears streaming down your face. Satoru tried to console you, but you refused to talk to anyone. The memories of the last three years slowly killed you. The only thing that kept running through your mind was leaving Japan to start a new life.

For four years, you assembled a team of nearly fifty sorcerers under your leadership. At first, it was exhilarating, but then you saw people listening to you and following your orders, and you began to feel confident in what you were doing. All you wanted was to create strong Jujutsu communities on every continent. You tried to level them up like they were in Japan, and you believed in their success. Gojo's blood still flowed through you.

By 2013, you had already opened three offices in Europe and were preparing to open a fourth in the USA. The only remaining question was with the government, which needed to be resolved as soon as possible. When you received an invitation from the local government, your team began to prepare for departure from Italy. As soon as the tickets were in hand and the luggage had been checked, your phone rang insistently. You took a deep breath and answered the call, seeing Satoru’s name on the screen. You hesitated, knowing that he wouldn't stop until he had your attention.

“My dear little sister! I’m so glad to hear you! How are you?” He sounded excited.

“Ugh, Satoru… This is not a good time…” You checked your watch and nervously chewed your lip.

“Sis, there is always a good time for me! Listen, we need your help. Urgently.” His voice grew serious.

“What? I can’t. It's not possible.” You wanted to end the call and walk away, but your brother’s concern stopped you.

“We have a new recruit in your crazy team of strongest sorcerers.” You were sure, he used his fingers to indicate your team with inverted commas.

“So what? It can wait.”

“No, it can’t. You should come to Tokyo to test him. Otherwise, he will leave the country.”

“If he wants to join my team, he can wait. I’m busy right now… Hello?” You didn’t hear Satoru anymore and hung up the phone.

You rolled your eyes at the brother’s indelicacy and walked to the gate. At the airport’s check-in counter, you saw a suspiciously familiar haircut. Satoru was standing near a pretty employee, flirting with her. You approached them and groaned.

“Does Utahime know about you being here?” Your gaze became sinister.

“We are not dating! Sweetheart, this is…” Gojo made a displeased smile and looked at you angrily.

“Your documents, please.” The airport girl lost interest in Satoru and turned to you.

“I can go instead of you. What grade is the curse?” His voice started to tremble, which surprised you.

“US government grade. What kind of guy is there that you desperately want me to meet? Johnny Depp?” You decided to listen to your brother.

“No. He is very talented but needs your strict control over him.” Satoru noticed your attention.

“If you tell me he is so talented…” You bit your lip.

Two things were important to you now: expanding your jujutsu company and engaging sorcerers. The lack of powerful sorcerers was a headache for not only you, but also for the entire magic community. Your curiosity got the best of you, but your concerns about Satoru's diplomatic skills weighed on you.

“Ugh. That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever done. Gosh, your carelessness is really contagious?”

You politely smiled at the girl, grabbed Satoru’s elbow and led him from the check-in desk.

“Listen to me carefully. We've been negotiating with the US sorcerers for half a year. In fact, I'm surprised they agreed with my idea. But if you fail this mission, I will kill you without hesitation.”

At first, Satoru laughed at you, but then he noticed your cold gaze and nodded silently. Despite his doubts about your global project, he appreciated your dedication to your ideas. The string of events during your school days hadn't broken you, and your activity had been useful for the jujutsu world.

“I'll send all the information with a message.” Satoru said, slightly pushing you towards the exit of the airport.

The next day, you were sitting at the airport waiting for your flight to Tokyo. It had been four years since you had last been there, and to be honest, you felt a little scared to return home. Satoru's information about “that super talented person” only annoyed you, and when you landed in Tokyo, you regretted your decision.

Outside the airport, a man waved to you. This was Ijichi Kiyotaka, who had been studying at Tokyo Jujutsu High for a year less than you. He had not succeeded in jujutsu and had become the assistant director. He stared at you in awe and pointed to the car.

“Gojo sensei! Welcome to Japan!”

“Ugh, don’t call me that.” You rolled your eyes and got into the car. “Please, I want to know more about this mysterious guy.”

“Why mysterious? You know him well.” Ijichi smiled.

“Really? Is it Megumi? Although he is only… 10?” You said sarcastically.

“He is. But no, this isn’t Fushiguro boy.”

The car drove up to the Tech, and your heart raced. Here you experienced first love, first death of a close friend, betrayal and break up. You shook your hand off the memories and got out of the car. On a bench, you saw the back of a tall, muscular, blond-haired man. Your eyebrows raised and you smiled softly.

“Well well…” The man turned around.

Familiar eyes and lips made you reel. You felt you couldn’t face those memories and tried to catch your breath. Kento looked so good, but still had circles under his eyes. Your gaze fell on his black dot tie, and you hardly restrained your tears. You cursed Satoru for this trick, hoping his plane gets into an endless turbulence zone.

“I’m leaving.” You turned to the car and started to open the door.

“Wait!” Nanami grabbed your hand. “I apologize for…”

“Don’t you dare even talk to me. You are nothing to me.” These words were ruthlessly slipping from your mouth.

“I understand your rage, but I need you to listen to me. I need you to be with me right now.” You noticed exhaustion in his voice.

“Excuse me? You need me to be with you right now?” You pressed against the car door to avoid Nanami’s proximity. “I want to forget you and everything that happened between us.” You lied to yourself and hated saying this.

“Don’t say that. I know you don’t mean it.”

You started to hit him on the chest taking out your grief and anger. All the emotions that you had carefully hidden for almost four years came to you at that moment. Despite your success in jujutsu, all this time you felt depressed. The endless emptiness was eating you from the inside and you couldn't do anything about it. There were people around you who wanted your attention, but you didn't want to pay attention to them because of Kento. For all these years, all your thoughts had been about him.

You didn’t want to discuss it with your brother because you were aware of his own feelings. The two of you were so close and so far from each other at the same time. Satoru understood your emotions, but didn’t want to bring it up. You had been in such a relationship since his death and resurrection, and it was awful.

Behind your thoughts you didn’t notice hot tears falling down your cheeks. You stopped hitting Nanami and turned your face away from him. He saw you were shaking and approached you.

“Don’t.” You lifted your palm to stop him from hugging you. “Not now.”

You went away from the car and sat on the bench, wiping away your tears. Ijichi and Kento watched you carefully, afraid to get close to you. Nanami regretted his decision to leave you, hating himself for causing your emotional state. It did not lead to anything good for either of you.

“So, there is no one who needs me to supervise.” You regained yourself and went to the men.

“Actually, this is my first mission after returning, so… I do need your supervision.” Kento’s voice became softer as he noticed you calming down.

“There was no need to bring me out of Europe. It was warmer there.” Your lips curled into a smile.

“Well, Satoru insisted that you would escort me during my first mission.”

“Of course he did.” You rolled your eyes at the thought of your brother.

“So, I see that you are ready for the mission? Here is information about it.” Ijichi handed you an iPad with the mission description.

“Okinawa?!” You yelled at the assistant when you saw the location.

The air landed at the Naha Airport on Okinawa. During the flight you tried to sleep, but Kento’s presence affected you in a way you didn’t want. Memories of your first trip here ran through your mind, making you hide your smile, but your expression remained icy. Although Nanami felt your tension, he didn't push you, remembering your tears in Tokyo, and truly understood his guilt, not relying on your quick forgiveness.

“So, the mission begins tomorrow at dawn, so you can rest at a hotel today.” Ijichi said.

“Not an option. We start right now.” You said, feeling your lips tremble, but stopping your nervousness.

“But…” The assistant tried to protest.

“Right now.” Kento felt a bit embarrassed seeing the man shaking.

Ijichi drove you to an abandoned beach and quickly left. You took out your kusarigama from the air. Nanami always liked that trick of yours, but now he was surprised when he didn’t see your halberd.

“And where is your halberd?” Kento couldn’t restrain himself from asking.

“I broke it in a Russian village. Special grade curse.”

“Oh, I’m sorry…”

“Don’t. I had so many problems with it at the border monitoring.” You softly smiled.

“At least you didn’t break your leg or back.” Nanami said, and you stared at him in astonishment.

“Of course, you remember…”

You went along the beach together to the cave. The warm sand got into your shoes, so you decided to take them off. This place was so calm, and you could hardly imagine that any curse lived here. The Pacific Ocean started to get louder, and the wind began to raise the waves. Kento looked up at the sky, and you followed his gaze. Usually, you liked to enjoy the sky together in every weather, but now it had become disgusting brown.

As you reached the cave, Nanami took out his blunt sword. Both of you felt the presence of a curse spirit. Kento remembered your fear from the missions at Jujutsu Tech, but he didn’t see it anymore. Your confidence inspired him, so he tried to hide his admiring look.

Inside the cave you felt cold. You smiled at the thought of this curses’ stereotype and shrugged. You looked at Kento and saw him completely focused. You were curious about his ability to fight curses after such a long break for jujutsu sorcerers.

“Don’t be upset, if you can’t handle the curse. After all, you didn’t do it for four years.”

“Don’t worry, dear.” He smiled gently at you, and, to your surprise, you saw that loving look in his eyes.

“Don’t look at me with those eyes” You turned away from Nanami and headed toward.

You felt the curse’s energy everywhere but couldn’t understand its hiding place. Kento’s look was directed toward you. Suddenly you felt a stab in your chest. Your eyes closed, and emptiness enveloped you.

The darkness started to dissipate, and you found yourself in Ueno Park. You looked around and saw a stroller beside you. You peered inside and discovered a red-faced baby. It smiled at you and stretched its hands toward you. You blinked twice and felt an urge to take it out of the stroller. The child cooed something in your ear and made you laugh.

Suddenly your phone rang. You carefully put the baby back. On the screen you saw a contact “Husband”, frowned and picked up the phone.

“Honey? Where are you?” You heard Kento’s soft voice.

“Uhm, I’m in Ueno Park.” You said hesitantly.

“Is Hoshiko* with you?” You frowned again and stared at the child.

“Hoshiko? Y-yeah, she’s with me.”

“That’s good. I’m already done at work, so I’m heading to you.”

“Okay, we will wait for you.”

You sat on a bench and started rocking the baby. The weather was nice, and you raised your face to the sun. You lost track of time as you felt hands on your shoulders. You laughed and turned around to see Kento. His bright smile and familiar adoring gaze warmed your heart.

The three of you walked into the park. Nanami spoke about his day at work and complained about his boss. You listened with interest, glancing at your daughter. Hoshi listened too, with wide open big purple eyes. You had never felt this before, so it was easy to think everything was right here.

In your apartment Kento helped you undress and bathe your child. Hoshiko, obediently watching her parents, started clapping her hands in joy

“Mommy and daddy happy!” She cooed, grinning at you.

“Yes, we are, my beautiful girl!” Nanami took the baby and wrapped her in a towel, kissing her forehead.

After the bath, you and Kento cooked the dinner together while Hoshiko sat in her highchair and read a picture book. When she found something funny, she burst out laughing. That made you and your husband exchange smiling glances.

As you placed the dishes on the table, your eyes fell on an old bread maker. You froze and started to tremble. Suddenly, Hoshiko’s laugher stopped. You stared at her chair and saw no one there. You blinked twice, and the girl reappeared as if nothing had happened. Nanami went to her side to see what made her laugh and smiled too.

During the dinner you looked away at the bread maker and couldn’t find peace. Something about this device caused pain in your chest. When dinner was over, you put Hoshiko in bed. She was so cute and looked like Nanami, except for the color of her eyes.

While Kento was taking a shower, you prepared for sleep. Suddenly, you dropped an earring and it rolled under the bed. You sighed and sat on the floor, but under the bed you saw a halberd, which shocked you.

“But… I broke it a year ago..”

You pulled out the halberd and stared at it without blinking. So many thoughts rushed through your mind, so you couldn’t stop them. Then you closed your eyes tightly, seeing white stars in the darkness. After that, you opened your eyes and saw an empty room with no furniture. You walked to the door, put your hand on the doorknob, and turned it.

There was nothing outside except for darkness. You turned around, and the room had already disappeared. The halberd started to fall apart, and ash fell to your feet. The pain inside you grew so strong that you couldn't hold on anymore. You fell to your knees and began to sob. It was horrible. You saw your dream come true and it was just some stupid trick of a curse. Endless emptiness filled you and right now, you were unable to fight it.

“My love.” Kento’s voice rang out from nowhere. “I need you to keep fighting. The curse is just playing with your mind.”

“But I can’t. I’m so tired. So so tired.” You saw your hands and knees sink into the ground.

“I know it’s hard, but if you give up, you’ll never see this future at all.”

“I don’t want to see my future. I just want to die so I don’t feel this emptiness.” Your body sank halfway into the ground as you saw Haibara in front of you.

“Wow, you are in a bad position now, girl.” He chuckled, squatting down to you.

“Yu? But you are…”

“Yeah, I’m hopelessly dead. And you are not.”

“You are funny as always.” You smiled and tried to get up, but didn’t succeed.

“I’m glad to see how strong you have become. And I’m happy that Nanami has returned to jujutsu.” Haibara didn’t help you to rise and watched as you went underground. “But now you’ve decided to give up? That’s so unlike you, Gojo.”

“You don’t know how I feel.”

“Yes, because I’m dead. And you are not.” He repeated his phrase. “Don’t you want to see Hoshiko in real life?”

These words hit you so hard that you desperately started trying to get out of the ground It hurt, but you continued fighting, regardless of how much your heart ached. Suddenly, you noticed your kusarigama and grabbed it eagerly, cutting yourself in the process.

In the cave Kento fought against the curse, protecting your almost breathless body. The dark spirit was so strong and fast, that Nanami was desperate to exorcize it without your help. He shook his head, banishing these thoughts and kept fighting. Now each of you had a huge battle: you – inside, and Kento – outside.

When Nanami fell on his knees, so exhausted, he lost all hope. He chuckled at himself for such a stupid comeback. At least he had seen you before he died. The curse stopped before him and reached its hand to the man. Suddenly, a chain wrapped around its neck.

“Get off.” You said through clenched teeth.

With a sickle, you cut off the curse's hand that tried to grab Nanami. Kento jumped into the air and sliced the demon in two. In the silence of the cave, all you could hear was each other's breathing.

“You good?” You asked Nanami.

“Mhm. And you?”

You didn’t answer and headed outside. The bright sun illuminated the blue surface of the water. Gulls flew above the ocean and tried to catch the fish. You walked along the beach without noticing the water in your shoes. Then you turned towards the ocean and went inside it. Warm waves parted before you because of your cursed energy, so you stayed dry as you walked along the bottom. When you felt tired, you relieved your Technique and the waves covered you.

You began to sink, but didn’t want to fight the stream and just gave up. As always in such situations you chose to give up. You weren’t strong at all, it was a mask, that you’d worn since Satoru’s death. All your efforts to be strong had been shattered by the curse’s trick. Your thoughts trapped you, and now your very existence seemed useless.

Suddenly, someone’s hand pulled you out of the water. Nanami grabbed your elbow and dragged you to the shore. But your body was so exhausted, so you couldn’t get your feet to work. Kento noticed this and lifted you up. On the beach, he carefully sat you down on the sand and gazed at you with concern. You hugged your knees and hid your face in them.

“Please, leave me alone.”

“No. Not again.”

“I said leave me! When I begged you to stay, you left! What’s stopping you now?”

“Sweetheart, it was one of the biggest mistakes I ever made. Don’t make me do it again.”

“You’ve ruined me! You destroyed my dreams and future!” You yelled at him, so loud.

“I’ve destroyed our future! And I deeply regret it. But look what you’ve done! Your sorcerers successfully exorcise curses around the world. Is that what you wanted, isn’t it?”

“I wanted you to be by my side…” You wiped the tears from your face.

“And did you ask what I wanted?” This question paralyzed you.

During the last two years in Tokyo Jujutsu Tech, you only talked about your ideas, your dreams and aspirations. You rarely talked about Nanami’s intentions. You seemed so selfish and seemed to see nothing else around you.

“Why didn’t you tell me…”

“Because… Because I love you and want to put you on the first place. That day, I hoped you’d change your mind, but…” Kento moved closer and lifted your chin, wiping away your tears.

“We lost four years, Ken.”

“And we can restore them.”

“No, there is nothing to restore.” You shook your head. “But we can try building something new. From now on, without looking back at the past. Only us.”

*Hoshiko means ‘star’

part 4

[mcufan72]

Sugar and Cinnamon

Loki x female reader (AU)/ 18+

Chapter 11

Chapter 10

Warnings: contains fluff, smut, angst, unprotected sex, alcohol and cigarette consumption, soft!dom/sub vibes, toxic relationship, morally grey stuff, blackmailing, abusive and insulting behaviour

Note: I hadn't much time to write lately and I don't know when it's going to change... my job is killing me these days. This chapter took 10 days to get written and it became a very long chapter (~11k words), so get some snacks and something to drink. I hope you enjoy.

You looked at him, swallowed, took a deep breath and then you began to tell him how it all started…

…nearly six months ago:

“Can we talk?” You asked Ralph after entering his office.

“Don't you see that I don't have any time to talk to you right now,” he answered harshly and stressed while reading the contract documents concerning the new advertising contract his marketing agency was ready to sign. The big deal that would catapult him and his company to the top of the marketing agencies in North America. He ran his fingers nervously through his dark brown hair, keeping his brown eyes fixed on the documents. “ We can talk later!”

“No, we need to talk now,” you told him strictly.

It had been a long day at work today like every day lately and you two had barely time to talk. And you two not talking properly to each other had been for months now. You and Ralph and the team around you were stuck deeply in negotiations with a production company for luxury wristwatches and thanks to your superb knowledge of marketing strategies and your excellent conversation tactics you finally got the deal for the new marketing campaign and the assignment from the wristwatch manufacturer. No, Ralph got the deal, the agency was his company, not yours. You were just his account manager in a leading position and his girlfriend for five years.

What you had to tell him was urgent and you had to tell him now. You didn't want to postpone this important conversation for the umpteenth time just because he always pretended to not have time for you. But you were his girlfriend and fiancée-to-be on hold and he had to have time for you, for heaven's sake. He didn't even raise his head to look at you when you approached his curved glass desk.

“I leave!”

“Yeah, good. Go home and get some rest. I don't know when I'll be back home. Might be late. Take a bath, shave and get pretty for me. I don't want to see you in a worn-out t-shirt and that ugly butterfly-patterned pyjama bottoms when I come home. Wear something nice … wear the red negligee, you know I like it. We can ‘celebrate’ my deal then.” He still didn't look at you and you grinned annoyed, shaking your head lightly.

“That's not what I meant, Ralph.”

“Then explain.”

“I leave. I leave the company… and you!” You thought it would be harder to tell him that but I wasn't. It felt more of a relief. Your relationship with him was in a crisis for months at this point and when you got aware of it you recognised that you didn't love him anymore. The love you once had felt for him had already faded away some time ago. So you decided to leave him, with all the consequences. You didn't want to hold on to a relationship that didn't make sense anymore even if that meant you had to find a new job. But you didn't worry about that. You were good at what you were doing and finding a new job in the marketing business wouldn't be a problem for you. Also, you wanted to pick up your studies again so you would be perfectly qualified to run your own business one day.

“Yeah, okay… wait, you what?” Ralph finally looked at you, frowning and astonished.

“I leave the agency and you. Look, I'll stay until the contract is signed. It takes approximately four weeks for our lawyers to verify the conditions before the signing so I'll stay until then. That's enough time for you to look for a new assistant and account manager. And if you're being honest our relationship is at a dead end and I know you can feel it too. I'm sorry if my announcement takes you a bit off guard but we hardly spend time with each other for months now. You're barely at home. I have a feeling that you keep avoiding me. And when you are at home you never really want to talk to me, we just have quick sex and maybe we have dinner together and…Ralph, I don't want to beat around the bush but… I don't love you anymore. The feeling isn't there anymore. It's gone, possibly on both sides. You became so loveless with time. But okay, it happens, that's life and there's nothing wrong with that. We both have changed and we both should move on. A relationship without love… it simply doesn't make sense and I like things to make sense. Let us look at this fantastic deal as our final big success on the long haul and then we both can start new things. Everyone for themselves. I think that's just fair,” you explained in a strict but friendly tone.

Ralph was a good-looking man, tall with broad shoulders, short dark hair, and hazelnut brown eyes, charming and good with words. That was why you fell for him five years ago. Now you knew that wasn't enough, there was so much more a healthy relationship needed and he couldn't give it to you or he didn't want to give it to you. And now after five years, you knew him well enough to be sure that he wasn't the right man for you so you decided to end it without causing further complications.

“What a silly girl you are, darling,” and he stood up from his leather executive chair, grinning at you dismissively. “Who do you think you are, hm?”

“I'm a strong woman who knows what she wants and what she doesn't want. And I don't want to be together with you anymore because you don't see me. You don't even have much time for me anymore just when you want to have sex and need to get some steam off. And that's not enough, Ralph. I want more and I deserve more. Please, accept my decision and that I don't have any feelings for you anymore and that there's nothing left that would be enough for a relationship or a marriage. I'm also sure it's more than difficult to continue working together after ending our relationship. Please, don't make it more awkward than necessary.” A scornful laugh escaped his throat.

“You're so ridiculous and such a stupid girl. I'll tell you what you want… this!” and he made a presenting gesture with his arms to underline his statement. “You want this job, you want me, the money and the luxury life it allows us. The penthouse, the luxury cars, designer clothes, the exclusive holidays in the world's best hotels. Do you really want to give all that up, darling? Do you really want to tell me you never appreciated all that?” You didn't like the contemptuous tone in his voice as if he were looking down on you.

“I never said that. I do appreciate our privileged life and all the amenities we have and I always worked hard for it so that we can have this kind of lifestyle. But it has nothing to do with love, it's just material and I want more than that and there's no love anymore between us, and you know it as well as I do.”

“We, darling, we worked hard for it. It's my agency, and in the end, it's my money but in my generosity, I always shared with you,” he insisted.

You swallowed down the words you wanted to throw at him because you knew who in this agency was doing the real work. It was you and Ralph's other highly qualified employees. He only harvested the fruits of your hard work and celebrated successes as his merits. He never cared about the fact that success is rather a team result than an individual achievement. A fact that bothered you more and more and added to the fact that you were losing the love you once had felt for him.

“And I know you want me. You can't live without me, can you? I'm the only one who knows what you need and what's good for you, hm? Because I can feel it whenever we have sex,” he tried to convince you, rounding his desk and walking towards you.

There must be something wrong with his feelings because it seemed he never had recognised how often you had faked your orgasms. He always did it his way. Hard, fast, and always dominant and he hated soft lovemaking. At some point, you began faking your climax to get finished soon with the bedroom activities which became more and more unsatisfying for you because Ralph just satisfied his own needs. And when you did it you better do it without questioning his masculinity. After some time you became very good at it. You better because otherwise he would've been in a foul mood for days and everyone around him including you would've felt the consequences. He stood close to you and with his sweaty palm, he cupped your cheek and ran his thumb firmly over your lips as if he wanted to wipe away the things you just said from your mouth like spilt food. Once his touches made you feel good but these days were truly gone and you didn't want him to touch you ever again.

“We had such a wonderful time together and always had good sex, didn't we?” He asked you smugly. He already needed to get his ego pampered again. A shiver ran down your spine and it wasn't because of lust.

“You always had good sex, not me,” you stated dryly.

“Ts ts ts…Darling, it's not my fault, it's you who's a little frigid sometimes but when you're in the right mood you can be such a horny slut and you know how much I like that,” he snickered. He wasn't completely wrong, you indeed liked some kinky stuff.

“I'm not frigid, you never listened to me when I asked you for some… sexy stuff to try or what I wanted to do in bed. Don't blame it on me alone, okay!” You said angrily.

“Darling, did your mother teach you to lie, hm?” His hand still cupped your cheek and you tried to escape from his touch.

“Don't put my mother into this,” you spat and pushed his hand away. “Our sex was never that good, not for me at least. You often left me high and dry and you didn't even care about that or ask or listen to me when I wanted to talk with you about it and what I needed to be satisfied too. You never cared. You never truly cared about me, did you? Gosh, I was so blind. Did you even love me, Ralph?” The thought struck you like a blow. How could you haven't seen this much earlier? How money could change someone so much and how much could someone be so blinded by love?

“Love, love… who needs love or romance? Money and success, that's what counts. Love is overrated, love is for kids and dogs,” he lamented, bored by what you were talking about.

“So you never loved me,” you stated disappointedly.

“Oh, I do, darling. At the beginning of our relationship, I definitely did. You were hot and eye candy and arm candy as well. You were pretty much of a head-turner, and you still are and I enjoy others looking at my beautiful girlfriend, especially our customers and business partners. It led to many successful deals that you're that pretty and smart. C’mon, doll, we both know that feelings can change and become different in a relationship and yes, maybe you're not my dream girl and I'm not your dream boy anymore, but that's why we don't have to split up right now, darling. We're such a successful team. C’mon it's just a phase, you're overworked and stressed out. Take a few days off. Drive to our house in the Hamptons and then everything will be fine again, okay? We'll fix our disagreements later when you're back,” he tried to appease you. “Don't be a drama queen! You don't want to leave me, I know it.” Ralph told you arrogantly and went back to his executive chair to sit down and pay attention to the contract documents again.

“You really don't get it, do you? It's not a phase, Ralph. It's a fact and I will leave,” you replied firmly. Ralph stayed silent, obviously getting pissed off more with every second your conversation continued. A look of scorn filled his eyes before he spoke again, his eyes fixed on yours.

“I think you're forgetting one tiny little detail,” He told you sneakily.

“What little detail? What do you mean?” you asked puzzled and frowning.

“Well, don't you remember our…little secret?” He winked at you and smirked. You suddenly remembered what he meant. You felt nauseous and a lump building in your throat made it heavy for you to breathe.

“What are you implying?” A further wave of nausea washed over you. He would never do that, would he?

“What about publishing it, darling?” He grinned devilishly. “For everyone to see.”

“No! No Ralph you can't do that! Ralph, please! No!” You begged him quietly and desperately. You panicked and swallowed thickly.

“It's all up to you, darling!” He stood up from his chair again and walked over to where you still stood, shoving his hands into the pockets of his dress trousers. He leaned toward you, rage and injured vanity in his eyes. And there was something else in his eyes. Fear?

“No one, absolutely no one leaves Ralph Belmont. So how dare you? No one screws things up with me! Not even you! Do you understand me, darling?” His voice sounded threatening and his face was so dangerously close to yours that you could feel his breath fanning over your face, his nose nudging almost against yours.

“I give you two options,” and he turned away from you and walked over to the floor-to-ceiling windows.

“Option one: You stay with me and in my agency, everything we just talked about will be forgotten and our little secret stays our secret. Option two…,” he turned around to face you “...you can leave the agency and me but you'll pay for it. A redemption sum so to say. In exchange, I won't publish our secret. Your decision, darling.” He smiled arrogantly.

“I can't and I won't stay with you, Ralph. Sooner or later you'll have to accept that,” you answered. Did he just try to blackmail you?

“It's option two then. Okay, if that's what you want, no problem. 250000 dollars and you're free. You have six months to transfer the money to my bank account with the note ‘Loan Repayment’. I think that's enough time for you to get the money together. Your working contract is dissolved with immediate effect, also you no longer have access to our bank account. Any questions, darling? I just want to make sure that things make sense for you.” The self-satisfied smile that curved his mouth disgusted you.

“What kind of cruel game are you playing here, Ralph? Are you doing this just because it hurts your pride when I leave you? You don't love me, you never really did. You just confirmed it. Let me go. You've got enough competent employees in the agency and there are more than enough women in this city who are waiting for a man like you and who'll throw themselves on you as soon as you're free. Do you think I never noticed that? So many women want a good-looking, filthy-rich man like you to fulfil their every wet and material dream. Now they can have you, I'm not interested anymore. You're not that man anymore I fell in love with. The more money we made the more you changed, and not for the best. You're not the same anymore, I guess the money did go to your head and you still crave for more.”

“What are you implying, hm? That I cheated on you, darling? Why should I, I have you to warm my bed. You should appreciate that,” he said, self-satisfied. “What about you?" He knew that you weren't that kind of girl. You'd never do that.

“Wow, where do I send flowers? Screw you, Ralph. You're such an asshole,” you answered sarcastically and repulsed.

“Ts, ts, ts, this is getting annoying. Be very careful, darling you're skating on thin ice. We both know that you're a little slut, hm?” He said sweetly, sarcasm dripping from his voice. “250000 bucks in six months! Save the date!” He said harshly and quite emphatically.

“Where shall I take the money from? I don't have that much and you know that!” your desperation grew. Why did he treat you like that?

“Not my problem. You decided to leave me. Now you know the consequences it has.” He sat down again, leaned back against the leather chair's backrest and crossed his arms behind his head, his eyes fixed on your shocked face.

“What's this game you're playing? Are you really blackmailing me? And what do you mean by ‘redemption sum’? For what? I always worked for my money. I worked my ass off for it and only for your profit! You never paid your employees properly or gave them any praise for their good work and I agreed to get paid better pocket money, especially in the beginning when we were building up our existence here. I did it for the company, for you and us. I even dropped my studies in London for you so that we could both move here, to New York and start a life because you didn't want to go without me and didn't want to wait a few months more until I finished my degree too. I did it for us because I always thought there was an ‘us’. We were in a relationship, I thought you loved me and I thought it would be forever.”

“Aww, look at you, so desperate now. Darling, not my problem. It was your decision to leave me and don't complain now, you'll have enough time now to study again and finish your exams,” he stated with utter sarcasm. “I invested a lot of money in you, haven't I? You had enough pocket money to spend on expensive, meaningless things and you also spent the money from our bank account. It seems you don't appreciate it enough and the things I did for you. I could've bought so many other nice things with all that money if I hadn't have spent it on you and your fancy clothes, cars, and other stuff. You want to leave me? Then you have to pay for it. Everything in life has its price, darling. And never forget about the dirty little secrets in my safe. One wrong step, one wrong action and I'll publish them all over the city and beyond. I'll ruin you, darling, if I have to. You'll never be able to work in our industry again when I'm done with you and you don't even have to try to hire for a job with our competitors. I'll find out and let them know what kind of woman you are. No one will employ you, I'll make sure of that. Never forget that, darling,” he grinned at you, smugly and viciously.

“You're such a disappointment in every hindsight. I'm glad to get rid of you. Pick up your stuff from your office and the penthouse. I expect you to be gone when I get back home. And don't forget to turn off the lights when you go and leave the keys with the receptionist. And now get out of my office. I've work to do,” and he busied himself with the contract documents again.

"You're such a devilish prick, Ralph Belmont. I can't believe how much I loved you once and that I did everything for you. You were never worth it. Unfortunately, it took me too long to see it. You're less than the dirt under my stilettos which I only ever wore for you because I wanted to look pretty for the man I loved. And it was you who wanted all those meaningless and material things, you dolled me up with all these clothes and shoes… you don't even know what my favourite colour is,” you answered, your voice trembling with disgust and disappointment. Disappointment about him and even more about yourself for not looking through him much earlier.

“Watch your mouth, darling. If I were a slut like you I'd be very careful about provoking me. You don't have any chance against me. Don't forget, you have six months! And now get out of my eyes!”

“Screw you, you bastard,” you spat with quivering lips, turned around and left his office.

***

Loki didn't know what to say after you had finished telling him what had happened to you the day you decided to leave your boyfriend. Tears welled up in his eyes when he saw how deeply hurt you were and how desperate. He kept holding your hands and tried to comfort you as best as he could.

“After that, I cleared my office, drove to our penthouse, packed my bags and left. I slept for some days in my best friend’s house until I found this apartment to rent. An apartment I can't afford much longer.” Tears began to run down your cheeks.

“So you became an escort lady to earn money for a living because you can't work in your business anymore,” Loki said and wiped your tears away.

“Yes, I contemplated a lot about what job I could do outside the marketing business and shortly after I stumbled over Rhea's escort agency. I found out that working as an escort was the fastest way to earn a lot of money in a short time… and it's still not fast enough or enough money at all. I changed my looks for the evenings when I was escorting gentlemen to functions and named myself Candy. Ralph's former arm candy, perfect in wearing high heels and fancy clothes and already a slut according to Ralph's opinion about me, had found her new job as an escort lady. Unfortunately, I was rapidly forced into getting a call girl because not only has my rent increased, the rent I pay for my mother's nursery home has increased as well.”

“Your mother lives in a nursery home? What happened to her, sweets?” Loki wanted to know, seemingly full of concern and compassion. “It's the woman in the pictures, right?”

“Yes, it's her, my beloved mum. She had a stroke some time ago and has been in a wheelchair since then. She needs professional help and care and so I looked for the best nursery home for her. My father died years ago and I'm an only child, I'm all she has. Ralph always thought I'd spent my money for whatever unnecessary things but I didn't. I paid for my mother's health care and I also spared a part of my money and now this saved money saves my life. But it's getting less and it has never been that much to buy my freedom from Ralph.

It wasn't easy for me to tell Rhea that circumstances are forcing me to work as a callgirl now too. The sheer thought of sleeping with strangers for money scared me. I don't know if you believe me but there was only ever you who I could imagine having sex with. I could never have done it with anyone else. And I still regret faking my orgasm when we fucked for the first time. It wasn't because I wanted to fool you, it was because I didn't want to feel that good. You felt so good, Loki and you were so tender and caring and I wasn't used to being treated like that and being treated so lovingly, especially not from a stranger. I was afraid of catching feelings for you and I couldn't allow it. It would've broken my rules to never develop feelings for a client or to ever fall in love again. But I failed, I began to feel more for you than I should and I broke my rules but I don't regret it,” you smiled at him but you couldn't stop your tears from falling. Loki looked lovingly at you and squeezed your hands to reassure you that he believed you and that he was there for you no matter what.

“What did he mean by the ‘dirty little secret’ in his safe? With what is he blackmailing you, sweets?” Loki asked his voice calm and soothingly. You hesitated to tell him. You were so ashamed of what you had agreed to do with and for Ralph and you were afraid that Loki wouldn't want you anymore when he finally got to know the truth. He felt your insecurity and anxiety to tell him everything and it broke his heart how much your hands were trembling in his. He just wished you would finally open up to him completely so he could finally help you in the way you needed him to help you. You just feared he would never talk to you again or find you disgusting.

“He's blackmailing me with…,” you felt like you had to puke and you took a deep breath before you continued. “He's blackmailing me with nude pics and… a sex tape.” Your tear-filled eyes looked into Loki's, trying to find out what he was thinking about you, now that he knew what whorish things you had done. But Loki said nothing so you continued telling him the details while tears kept running down your cheeks.

“He took the pictures of me and filmed us during sex some time ago when we were madly in love… or that was what I thought we were. On my part, I definitely was in love with him. I was so naive… but I trusted him and so I agreed to it. I was so dumb, I should never have allowed him to take these pictures or make this private porn.”

“You're not dumb, sweets. You were in love and what is love when you can't trust your partner? Unfortunately, he didn't love you enough but you couldn't know that,” he tried to comfort you despite knowing there was no real consolation right now. “So he filmed you. What about him in this tape?”

“Yes, he did, you can see how I get fucked by him in several ways but… his face is never visible and I'm not sure anymore if he did it on purpose back then for whatever reason or really just for himself or ourselves. He got me on the dangle and I'm at his mercy.” A desperate sob escaped your throat and your gaze wandered through your small apartment. “I don't know what to do, Loki. I don't have that money and time is slipping through my hands. In a few days, it's payday and if I don't pay he'll publish it.”

The panic in your gut grew immediately. Loki felt bad for you. He had no problems with any form of sex or kinks but he couldn't handle that this asshole took advantage of you, your abilities and your body in every way possible all over those years and now turned your trust and the love you once had for Ralph against you. You loosened your hands from Loki's, shifted on the sofa and sat back against the sofa's backrest. You pulled your knees close to your chest, wrapped your arms around them and stared into the void. You didn't want to be afraid, you wanted to be happy and free again. You wanted to live without so much fear.

Loki felt the rage in his gut rising and getting stronger. The sight of you curled up on the couch and your knees drawn to your chest, your face pale and your eyes teary, didn't help to get rid of this feeling. You, his precious girl, didn't deserve to be treated like this.

“Maybe I should sell one of my kidneys or rob a bank to be able to pay him,” you said, laughing and irony scurrying over your face.

There was it again, your never dying, beautiful laughter, your untamed will to feel alive and be happy no matter how big the pain is. Loki adored you for this and he couldn't help but join you in your laughter and sarcasm for a moment.

“I got everything you told me so far, sweets but what did he mean with ‘redemption sum’? I still don't get this part,” Loki questioned curiously and frowned.

“He wants to make me pay back for everything he ever invested in me, I guess. Everything belongs to him, Loki. The money, the cars, the penthouse, the house in the Hamptons, he bought my designer clothes and evening gowns and dolled me up to his liking to parade me around. He paid for everything we did together like luxury holidays for example. He always said it's our common wealth and we both should enjoy it. I helped him to get this rich and I also helped him to reach all the goals he wanted to reach. But everything happened in his name for his company. I think, at some point, I wasn't my own person anymore. I did most of the work together with his other employees, and the more money he earned the less I mattered to him… and my love for him slowly faded away. He didn't even recognise that. Tells a lot about his character, I guess. That he now behaves how he behaves is most likely because I crushed his pride by leaving him and that he's blackmailing me is possibly the only way for him to hold power over me and to keep me in his company. I'm sure he knows very well how much he owes me. It's a cruel game he's playing with me and it doesn't make any sense to me. Most of all I despise my own stupidity in not refusing that damn photoshoot…and allowing him to film us having sex was the biggest mistake I've ever made. I don't understand why I agreed to make a private porn video. I'm so disgusted by myself.”

The embarrassment made your eyes welling up with tears again and you angrily wiped them away with your palms. You couldn't turn back the time or the decisions you made and there was just one way now: grin and bear it and get everything sorted out. Self-pitying wasn't helpful at this point.

“I never wanted all this mass of luxury, you know. Of course, I like nice things and going shopping for fancy stuff. But I don't crave it, I don't need all those fancy clothes and shoes or jewellery, holidays in expensive hotels and their overpriced presidential suites, or fancy six-course menus. He wanted all of this and put me in those clothes and pretty places. A small cosy cottage at a beach, a glass of wine on the porch, casual food at a beach bar, swimming in the ocean and my bare feet in the sand, dancing in the moonlight and having sex on the beach… that was what I wanted to do but he never listened to me or fulfilled these little dreams of mine. He always wanted it his way and I agreed because I loved him and was afraid to lose him. All I ever wanted was to live and to love someone and I wanna be loved by a man whose feelings for me are sincere and genuine. I wanna feel safe…and I want to give all of those feelings to someone who deserves all of this as much as I do. A normal, healthy life and a normal, healthy relationship. To always say yes to everything and to sacrifice myself and my wishes for someone else's success wasn't healthy, always playing the supportive role instead of the main role…that was far away from having an equal and healthy relationship. When there's one thing I've learned then it's that I have to love myself too and that I have a right to get my dreams fulfilled as well and that was the reason why I finally broke up with Ralph and the break-up brought me in this fucked up situation. I still don't know what is hurting me more. The fact that Ralph is blackmailing me or that he never truly loved me. I was just a means to an end. Maybe I should laugh about him. He's a weakling, a douchebag, unable to put something on his own, humanly a total loser and in general a loser in life too. He never cared about me or was overly interested in my life or cared about my mum. He only ever cared about money. I thought I'd spend the rest of my life with him, Loki, I thought it would be forever until I found out how he really is, how evil and devilish. He's a failure, a failure in a pinstripe suit. And now he wants to punish me for leaving him and spending ‘his’ money. He wants to ruin me and make me believe that I was the one who took advantage of him and lived at his expense.”

“But you worked for it, sweets. You worked harder for it than him. He has no right to demand and reclaim anything from you.”

“Yeah, you're right but there's nothing I can do about that. And it still feels like there's more about it, that I only know half of the truth about him. I'm sure there's more about it that he demands so much money from me.”

“Why didn't you report him, sweets?”

“He has connections everywhere, Loki. From the Police department to the best lawyers, he knows a lot of people with a lot of influence and he has all the money to pay them all well and buy himself free from criminal offenses. I wouldn't have a hint of a chance.”

“Why did you stay with him that long?”

“I don't know. Maybe because I didn't want to give up on my hopes that we could still have a future together. Maybe because we were too used to each other and clinging too much to old habits. Maybe it was the refusal to accept that our love had died at some point in time. Maybe I was afraid of being alone. I don't know. The only thing I know is that I didn't stay with him because of the money and the privileged lifestyle. The things I wanted weren't material. What I always missed over the years was the love and the adoration for each other. The richer he got the more heartless he became. The lack of love and care was the worst. And it took me too long to see it.” You began quietly sobbing and crying, every dam inside of you broke.

“Now you know my truth and I hope you understand now why I wanted to keep you out of this and left you that night. I told you that the real me has nothing to do with the pretty, carefree and sexy Sugar, my alter ego, the fake personality you fell in love with. I never intended to hurt you, Loki. I know I did and I'm so sorry for that. I totally understand if you want to go now because you deserve a better woman than me whose life is fucked up and whose sex life might be published all over the country in a few days.”

“You should know that I won't leave you alone, no matter what happens. Do you still not believe me that I'm in love with you? I don't care about what you did and why, you had no other choice and who am I to judge you? You still wanted me to stay despite what I did in the past. And you definitely didn't do anything wrong. I'll stay, I won't go.” Loki could deal with a lot of things. Hate, rejection, wrath, rudeness but not with you, his precious girl, sitting on your sofa blaming everything that had happened on you and crying a river because of that damn prick Ralph.

“Come here, sweets,” and he pulled you into his lap cradling you tight. He rubbed your back gently and you leaned against him, your head resting in the crook of his neck.

“I always knew that there's a wonderful, lovable and sweet person behind the mask named Sugar. I saw so many hints of it whenever we met and I'm glad that I have found this amazing woman. Have you any idea how strong you are? I promise you we'll figure out how to bring him down and we'll figure it out together.”

“Can you please hold me for a while? I need to be held by you, Loki,” and you began to cry again.

“Of course, as long as you want me to, sweets,” Loki kissed you softly on the forehead, rocked you slowly back and forth and just held you tightly until you felt better and had no more tears inside of you to shed.

“Please, sweets take my money and pay him and then…” he began to talk again.

“No, Loki, I won't do that,” you interrupted him quietly.

“Y/n please don't let us have this discussion again…” He begged you nicely.

“No, please don't get me wrong, Loki. It's not that I wouldn't take your money to pay him, which is extremely nice and generous of you. No, it's because I think he won't stop blackmailing me if I give him the money he demands from me. I'm pretty sure he won't stop blackmailing me because if he gets the money from me he might think I'm capable of paying more and that I can do it again and again. Believe me, he is that type of guy. He never gets enough, he's insatiable. I need to find another way. I'm afraid I need to talk to him again. Maybe… maybe I should… offer him to… to sleep with me one more time, maybe then he lets me go.” The thought made you shiver in disgust.

“This will never happen! He will never ever touch you again, y/n!” Loki said firmly and sternly. He carefully grabbed you by your shoulders and looked deeply into your teary eyes. “You're under my protection and I will never allow or accept this! Please, don't do this to me,” he told you desperately.

“I'm sorry, Loki, I'm so sorry, I won't do it, I promise but I really don't know what else to do…,” and you hugged him tightly. He wrapped his arms around your middle and pulled you closer to him.

“I'll find a way to stop him. I promise with all of my heart and soul, I'll stop him,” he cooed and buried his face in your hair. You were his, only his and he would protect you at all costs, always.

Out of nowhere your stomach growled and it made you both chuckle.

“It seems my queen is hungry and needs to get fed,” Loki answered and smiled at you.

“Your queen?” you asked him surprised and you were definitely hungry. No matter how big your problems were, you would never refuse to eat.

“Oh, right I forgot where you come from, I'm sorry Loki,” you continued genuinely and kissed his mouth tenderly.

“Yes, you're my queen, sweet thing and I can't have you starving. I have a suggestion. I'm doing groceries for some food and I cook something for us and you can clean up your apartment a bit. Then we eat and after lunch, you can finish your today's work and we spend the rest of the evening together… and the night if you want. What do you think, sweets? Would you like that?” Loki grinned from ear to ear, very proud of his irresistible proposal.

“You can cook?” you asked astonished. This man was just full of surprises and really cared about your well-being. And of course, you wanted him to stay.

“Yes, I can. I had a lot of time here to learn it,” Loki confirmed.

“Wow, you're really talented. You're amazing and I'm truly blessed with a man like you. Yeah, that's a really good plan. Thank you, Loki,” and you kissed him again. You could do this all day long and stay wrapped around him 24/7.

A knock at your entrance door interrupted your making out and you let go of each other's lips.

“Do you expect someone?" Loki asked and looked quizzically at you.

“No, I don't expect anyone,” and you got off of his lap. You took a sweatpants on and headed for the door to open it.

“Hello y/n, I'm very sorry for disturbing you but…”

“Walker!” and you hugged that rock of a man with genuine thankfulness. Your stormy embrace took him off guard and he shyly reciprocated your hug.

“You're not mad at me?” He asked you insecurely. You let go of him and looked at him.

“How could I be mad at you? You helped my man to find me and brought him back to me. And I'm so grateful for it, Walker. Thank you, thank you for your help, you risked a lot for us,” you told him and gave him an amicable kiss on his cheek. Walker was taken aback by it, he never expected this adorable behaviour of yours and he slightly blushed but he always knew what a wonderful person you were so he wasn't really surprised. You were lovely and that's why he always cared that much about you.

“Will you tell Rhea?” He wanted to know.

“No, Walker, I won't tell her. If she should find it out by herself I won't lie to her, she always has been good to me and so have you. I would explain to her why you did it and I would fight for you. You won't lose your job, I promise,” you reassured him. Loki appeared behind you and wrapped one arm around your waist, placed his hand on your stomach, kissed your cheek and looked at Walker, smiling.

“Thank you, y/n, I appreciate it. You have a heart of gold. Is everything okay so far?” Walker looked smilingly at both of you and Loki pulled you closer to his body, his chin leaning at your temple.

“Yes!” You both answered simultaneously and smiled brightly at Walker and he told you he was glad to hear that. He could see how happy you two were despite knowing that you were still in some kind of danger he didn't know anything about.

“Could you do me a favour, Walker?” Loki asked him.

“Of course, Sir.”

“Could you please drive me to a grocery store, I'd like to buy some foodstuff, this beautiful lady here in my arms is starving and I can't have that. I just get fully dressed and then we can drive off.”

“No problem, Sir, I wait by the car for you,”

“Thanks, Walker. Give me five minutes,” Loki said. Walker nodded once and smiled at you, turned on his heels and left. He could go with a good conscience and to see you so lucky in all your misery and together with the man you visibly loved was worth it to risk his job.

Loki got dressed and kissed you goodbye.

“You come back to me, right?”

“Of course, I will come back to you, sweets.” He held your head in his big hands, his thumb pads gently rubbing over the soft skin of your cheeks, and kissed the tip of your nose.

“Will you open the door for me when I'm back from doing the groceries, my precious girl?” He asked you softly. You took his hands gently from your face and walked over to your dresser to take something out of a small wooden bowl.

“You can let yourself in, handsome. Can't wait to have you back,” you said quietly, kissed him shortly but passionately and gave him your keychain with the key to your apartment. Loki smiled at you, astonished that you gave him your keys without hesitating.

“I'll be back soon, sweets,” he answered, gave you a further quick, loving kiss and left.

When Loki came back you had put things in order in your apartment, your table wasn't a complete disaster anymore and it would be much easier for you to get back to work later. He immediately began to prepare the ingredients he needed for cooking a tasty meal for you. You two decided to eat at the kitchen counter and you prepared two places with cutlery and napkins. Loki forbid you to do more than this. He wanted you to take some rest and he also wanted to spoil you with his cooking skills and his care. You couldn't do anything about it, so you obeyed and just watched him stirring in a pot and frying fish in a pan. It smelled delicious and Loki cooking in your small kitchen was a sight to behold. A literal demi-god, devastatingly beautiful and sexy in his tightfitting t-shirt, was cooking in your kitchen, and he did it for you.

You were on the edge of crying again. His ways to show you his love and affection were adorable and you were still convinced that you didn't deserve it. You rounded the kitchen counter and hugged him from behind, shoving your hands under his t-shirt and letting your fingertips trail over his defined abs in lazy circles up to his pecs to caress his chest hair. You couldn't resist touching him. You needed to reassure yourself that he was real and that you weren't daydreaming.

“Don't you dare distract me, sweet thing,” he groaned jokingly.

“I'm hungry,” you whined and pressed a firm kiss between his clothed shoulder blades.

“I know, sweets and it seems you want the dessert before the main course,” he teased you and turned around to face and hug you. Your hands were still under his shirt and caressed now the firm muscles of his back.

“The best comes last,” you teased him back and bit lightly into your lower lip. You felt the muscles of his thighs and his crotch tightly pressed against your lower parts and you let your hands trailing down to his butt, squeezing it and pressing him even closer to you.

“I think you have to be patient, sweet thing. Before you'll get your special dessert I have a sweet little surprise for you,” he said to increase your anticipation. It was just now that he realized that you had touched his bare skin again without his permission. Why did it feel that good, dangerously good? Your warm hands on his body lit a fire in him again and he wanted it to burn forever. Your hands on him were dangerous but one of the best feelings he ever felt.

“Can't wait for it,” you mumbled, tilted your head, and latched your lips onto his. You would never get enough of this man's soft lips and his delicious taste. If only you knew what it was that made his kisses that tasty.

“We can eat now, sweets. Take a seat, I will serve you the food,” and he let go of your mouth and body and prepared two dishes with the freshly cooked food.

“Et voilà, freshly fried salmon on a bed of spicy spinach leaves and some rice as a side dish with a light herbal sauce. Enjoy your meal, my love,” and Loki placed your dish with an elegant movement in front of you. Did he just call you ‘my love’? Never before had a man called you like this and you never felt so loved by a man. And it felt so normal like you two were in a serious relationship but maybe it went way too fast and way too easy.

“Thank you so much, Loki. It looks gorgeous,” and you dipped your fork into the fish and the spinach and shoved it into your mouth. The wonderful taste of it on your tongue made you moan almost indecently and your reaction made Loki smile. He loved how sensually you enjoyed food.

“It's delicious, I love it. It's the best dish I've eaten in two weeks.”

“I'm happy you like it, sweets,” Loki responded and he also started eating. You didn't talk much during your lunch, you just enjoyed each other's company. Loki's little surprise for you was a chocolate mousse with fresh strawberries and he couldn't resist feeding you this sweet treat, well knowing that you would never deny a good dessert.

In the afternoon you continued writing your thesis and Loki sat on your sofa, reading one of the books he had taken from your bookshelf. He didn't disturb you, he was just there and his sheer presence filled you with calmness and security. It was balm to your soul in all the stress and anxiety you were suffering these days. In the evening you watched a movie together but you didn't follow the plot because you soon ended up heavily making out and Loki carried you to your bedroom, his lips never leaving yours. You two hurriedly took your clothes off and continued kissing and touching each other's bare skin. You did it slowly and gently and you weren't in a hurry anymore as soon as you were cuddling under the sheets. All the touches made Loki's cock twitch and you felt the wetness between your thighs becoming more with every passionate kiss he gave you.

“Mark me, Loki. I want everyone to know that I belong to someone, that I belong to you,” you whispered to his ear and continued kissing him and playing with his curls.

“Are you sure, sweets? I don't want to bruise your perfect skin. You're too precious to me,” he answered softly and brushed your hair tenderly out of your face.

“Yes, I want it, I want you to mark me as yours,” you asked him.

He gave you a soft, passionate kiss first before his lips travelled further down to your throat and the most sensitive spot under your ear. He placed a tender kiss right to your pulse point before he sucked and nibbled that erotic zone of yours until he saw a violet mark appearing on your skin. He licked gently over the bruise and blew some air over it to soothe the sweet pain he had caused. All the moans you made and the way you were writhing underneath him while he was kissing you had already made him harden and you felt him rolling his hips against your thigh. Then he was on top of you, pressing his engorged cock against your thigh and moistening it with pre-cum. Your hard nipples rubbed against his chest with his every movement and it made him moan and tremble because it felt so good on his skin. Your hands were roaming all over his body and caressing him. He never wanted to miss this feeling ever again. He felt you shifting beneath him and opening your legs for him. He rolled his hips against yours and with his shaft he rubbed over your inner labia and your clit. Your soft moans and your tight grip on his back and his nape caused goosebumps on his heated skin. The tip of his cock teased your entrance and when he was about to slide in you tenderly stopped him.

“Don't you want to blindfold me? If you want you can tie up my wrists too,” you trusted him enough to allow him to do it and to surrender to him.

“No, I want you to touch me. Touch me here,” and he gently took your hand and placed it to his sternum where his heart was beating hurriedly. “Make me feel I'm breathing, I'm living, make me feel worthy of your touch, worthy of your love. I want you to look at me and I want to look into your eyes when you cum, sweets.” In his eyes, you saw he was serious and he truly wanted it.

“So whenever you blindfolded me, you did it not just for the kink. You wanted to hide from me. I didn't imagine the blue shimmer under your skin, right? It has something to do with you being a Jotun,” you concluded, tenderly running a thumb over his cheek.

“You didn't imagine it, I'm sorry that I told you otherwise. I was scared and I didn't want to scare you off. When I have strong feelings for the woman I mate with, I may lose control and can't keep up the appearance you're used to. And being touched by your hands just adds to the sensation. And also my skin feels different then. These are the reasons why I didn't want you to touch me.” Loki was afraid you would demand him to stop and get off of you immediately but you didn't.

“You don't scare me off, you never could,” you whispered and pulled him down to kiss him ardently. “Go on, Loki, I need you,” you pleaded him sweetly.

“Sure?”

“Absolutely sure,” and he slid himself inside you until he was completely seated inside of you.

His strokes were deep and slow and he made the sweetest love to you. He was so tender and careful, with utter gentleness he caressed and kissed every part of your body he was able to reach in this position.

“I love you so much, I don't want to live without you anymore. Please, never run away again, sweets,” he asked you between his lingering kisses.

“You're my everything, Loki. I missed you so bad, I'm so glad to have you back, that you haven't given up on me. I will never run away from you again,” you murmured and you scratched lightly with your fingernails over the soft skin of his muscled back. You gave featherlight kisses to his cheeks and his forehead. His skin was glistening with a thin layer of sweat and your touches made him shiver. His strokes got sloppier and his moans more intense. You felt how close he was but he still held back. He could tell you wouldn't cum yet, together with him. He looked at you with asking eyes, unsure if he should go on or take care of your pleasure first. You sensed his hesitation but you gave him a reassuring glance to continue.

“I'm okay, don't worry. It feels good, don't stop. Come for me, Loki. Come undone for me, my precious boy, I have you,” you whispered against his lips and his speed increased. He groaned silently, his hips drawing back and pushed forward again, his throbbing cock thrusting deep into your pulsating cunt. You weren't on the brink of climaxing yet but it didn't matter. You enjoyed the intimacy and how close he was to you, how soft his skin felt under your fingertips, and how passionately he gave himself to you. There wasn't any pressure for you to orgasm and whoever told you to make love in missionary pose is boring was a liar. Nothing felt better or more intimate and intense. You definitely enjoyed it.

“Let go, my love, fill me with your cum, make me happy, let me feel you” and you trailed your fingers gently up from his lower back to his shoulders and his biceps. When you felt his whole body tighten and his moans getting more desperate, you spread your legs wider and grabbed his ass cheeks and squeezed them firmly. You knew he was about to cum. “That's it, you're allowed to cum Loki, give it all to me. Don't hide, you can show me who you are,” you murmured, kissing and caressing his throat and his face with your lips and tightening your grip on his butt.

“Oh fuck…,” and with your name on his lips he came, violently and delightfully moaning, feeling your cunt clenching around his sensitive tip and when you felt him releasing his warm seed into you you came too, silently, calmly, intensely, bathing in the sweet feeling of being loved and craved. You kissed each other passionately, intensifying the orgasmic bliss. You locked your legs around his waist because you knew how much he liked that and also you were not yet willing to let him go. You loved this feeling of his still throbbing cock inside of you. His kiss burned torturously sweet on your lips and you could barely stand the feeling of the weight of his body on top of yours and you really had underestimated how much you needed this, how much you needed him.

Loki broke the kiss and rested his forehead against yours, trying to catch his breath. You both didn't say anything, you just looked at each other and enjoyed this feeling of satisfied lust and love. You caressed Loki's scalp and scratched his nape tenderly, watching the hint of the blue colour under his skin and the red shimmer in his eyes slowly fading away. Loki gently caressed your cheeks and kissed the tip of your nose tenderly.

“Are you alright, sweet thing?” he murmured, softly pressing a further tender kiss to the tip of your nose. Instead of an answer he felt your legs clenching more firmly around his hips and your deep purr of contentment made him feel safe and wanted.

“I really didn't scare you? I…I couldn't show it to you completely yet, I'm still too used to hiding it. I think I need some time to understand that you would accept me nonetheless,” Loki mumbled shyly.

“Take all the time you need. You decide when it feels right for you and then you can show me your ethereal beauty,” Loki kissed you tenderly and thankfully and couldn't believe that you were so understanding in every respect.

“I wished we had met under different circumstances,” you whispered while you gave him several pecks on his lips, some sadness in your voice.

“Honestly, I'm pretty sure we did,” Loki said, convinced and moved his body from yours to lay on his side. You rolled to your side too so you could face him and propped up on one elbow, your head resting on your palm.

“What do you mean?”

“Do you remember the day when we first met at Vivian's Velvet? Rain was pouring down that day. I had just called Rhea, made an appointment with an escort lady, which was you, and was on my way home when a hooded woman bumped into me.”

“This is nothing unusual in Manhattan.”

“It's not, you're right. I couldn't see her face but I remember the shoes she was wearing…dark-green trainers like yours. It's my favourite colour and that's why the trainers caught my eye,” Loki continued and you frowned and looked quizzically at him.

“You mean, we could've had a meet-cute, flirting, dating and all that lovely kitschy stuff others have when meeting accidentally somewhere? Because… I remember I was in a hurry to Rhea's agency and I bumped into someone with an umbrella… it was…”

“... me, the man with the umbrella. And I'm sure I saw you a second time, in the hallway of the hotel after our first night, when I lost my scarf. I went back to the hotel suite to look for it and a woman walked past me. I greeted her but she didn't answer. She was busy looking for something in her bag and I couldn't see her face, it was hidden behind her hair. And she was wearing dark-green trainers, the same again as yours.” You swallowed thickly, you clearly remembered that night.

“Yeah, I remember. I was looking for my biscuits in my bag because I was a bit hungry and… I didn't answer because I had my earplugs in and was listening to music, I didn't even recognise walking past someone.

“And there was a third time. In Central Park, one sunny afternoon I was sitting on a bench and reading a book. When I randomly looked up, two women passed by, I just saw them from behind, one of them talking nonstop to the other woman… and this woman…”

“...wore the same dark-green trainers like mine?” You completed his sentence. “I'm sure it was me and my friend Gabby, we met one afternoon in Central Park and on our way home she talked a lot,” you laughed and you couldn't believe how many chances there had been to meet Loki in the streets and he couldn't believe it either.

“Besides I don't know what I would have done, it's amazing how many times we ran into each other, how close we had been to each other without knowing it,” you realized.

“But it wasn't meant to be for us. Our way is a different one, more complicated but we'll go this way together. I'm sure everything should exactly happen the way it happened. At least it doesn't matter. We're together now and that's the only thing important to me. Come here, sweets,” and Loki pulled you into his arms and hugged you tightly.

“You're right, and I'm just happy to have you here. Thank you for being here and holding me.” You enjoyed his proximity for a moment before you continued to speak.

“Loki, I'm not sure if I'm ready for a new relationship yet. It terrifies me. I might need some time to get over my bad experience and I hope you understand that it's not easy for me to love someone again.”

“Your scars need time to heal, sweets and I'll give you all the time you need. I also know it's not easy to love me. I'm an otherworldly creature with a dubious past and how could I expect an angel like you to love a sinner like me that easily.”

“You stop saying that right away, okay? That's not the reason. You're wonderful! A loveable, attentive and sensual man, you're everything a woman can dream of… everything I'm dreaming of. It's me, Loki. My life is so fucked up, and you deserve better, a better woman than me…I really wish we would've met under different circumstances… the girl in the rain…”

“...bumping into the man with the umbrella…Now you stop saying that right away, sweets. You're gorgeous, and you are the one for me and I say it again, I'll give you all the time you need,” and he tightened his grip on you, kissing you softly.

“Loki, I would've slept with you without taking money from you because I never really wanted you to pay for me. I just want to be yours and yours only,” you whispered tiredly and snuggled up closer to him.

“And I would've paid any price for you just to be with you and to make sure that no other man touches and hurts what is mine,” he answered quietly with his wonderful velvety voice.

To the sound of his heartbeat, you fell asleep on his chest, protected by his strong arms which were still firmly wrapped around you as if he were afraid you could be gone when he woke up in the morning.

“I'll do this one thing for you and make sure that this son of a bitch will never hurt you again,” Loki whispered into the darkness of your bedroom and placed a tender kiss on your forehead. But you didn't hear him because you were already sleeping and with you closely snuggled up to him he closed his eyes and fell asleep too.

The next morning when you woke up the place in your bed next to you was cold and empty. For a moment you thought he was gone and you suddenly understand how he must've felt when he woke up that morning without you. It was a horrible feeling. But then you heard some noises from the main room of your apartment. You got off the bed and walked over to where the sounds came from. There was Loki, nearly fully dressed already and about to leave.

“What are you doing?” you asked him surprised.

“Hey, good morning, my sweet thing. You're awake. I didn't want to wake you up. I just need to do something before we have breakfast. I'll be back soon, my love. Take your time and enjoy a hot shower until I'm back. I won't take long, I promise,” he explained to you. Something seemed a bit off but you couldn't explain what it was.

“See you later, my sweet girl and I'll prepare a wonderful breakfast for you when I'm back,” and he kissed you passionately goodbye. There was something very erotic about him being fully dressed and you still being naked. You found it irresistibly indecent and arousing.

“Sounds very promising, handsome. I'll be waiting for you to come back soon,” you told him softly.

You smiled brightly after he had closed the door and you took a mug from the cupboard to make you a coffee. You couldn't wait to have him back soon though he had just left but you already missed him. You thought about yesterday and last night, about how Loki had been there for you and listened to you and about your adoration and blooming love for Loki when it suddenly hit you like a rock.

‘You're a fallen angel, someone has broken your wings and if I ever find this cruel prick who hurt you so much, I'll kill him’

‘Don't make any promises you'll never keep, Luke’

‘I'll find a way to stop him. I promise with all of my heart and soul, I'll stop him ‘

“Oh my god Loki, no… no nono no… Don't do this…no…” you panicked and nearly dropped your coffee mug. You suddenly knew what it was he needed to do before breakfast. He surely was on his way to pay a visit to Ralph. He was willing to risk his freedom for you, willing to help you, no matter what it might mean to him or the consequences it could have for him. Never before have you got showered and dressed that quickly. Hopefully, it wasn't too late to keep him from falling into calamity.

Last night before he fell asleep with you nestled in his arms, sleeping peacefully, he knew what he had to do. He remembered who he was and what he was capable of. He was a prince, a king, a fighter and still the god of mischief and trickery.

He was willing to write a new story for you and hopefully, he would be a part of it too in one way or another. He was on his way to fight for your honour and freeing you from Ralph and nothing could stop him from doing it.

🌹🥂🥃🌃🌹🥂🥃🌃❤️🌹🥂🥃🌃🌹🥂🥃🌃

@faesimps @gruftiela @lokisprettygirl @anukulee @fandxmslxt69 @foxherder @depressedpolishgirl @buttercupcookies-blog @chantsdemarins @fictive-sl0th @justjoanne242 @km-ffluv @stupidthoughtsinwriting @lovingchoices @wheredafandomat @lokixryss @huntress-artemiss @smolvenger

[badjohnspeakeasy]

the vitriol off that saibuki post was hilarious. I don't ship saibuki by any means, but i'm unsure why they're so bad - i'd love to read your thoughts about it if you're inclined to share more.

Mostly because Saitama x Fubuki is a boring ship, and its fans are usually just projecting their fantasies on Fubuki and themselves on Saitama.

Also, one of their craziest fans harasses Murata. Hell, dude's harassed me too lol

Also Psykos x Fubuki is awesome. There ain't enough tragic lesbian romances in media.

I'll try to keep this quick and digestible.

Psykos was Fubuki's right-hand-woman during their school days. She was her closest confidant, her biggest fan, and a capable strategist who supported Fubuki in her endeavors. The whole reason Psykos went mad was because she wanted to support Fubuki by learning to see the future.

Even after she went insane, she trusted and respected Fubuki enough to remain at her side.

On Fubuki's end, we have the kiss to seal her powers. Rather than subduing her through a litany of possible other means, Fubuki chose the most nonviolent and romantic manner possible to bring Psykos under control. Fubuki's only guardian was Tatsumaki, so it's sorta natural that her love language is toxic. People interpret the kiss as pure manipulation, but I think she wanted to do what Tatsumaki did to her all her life; keep her close by enforcing inferiority.

None of the former members of the Society of the Supernatural are ever expanded upon; only Psykos and Fubuki. This might be a stretch, but when Fubuki said "She's trying to take the losers away from me", I think Fubuki might have been referring to Psykos as the loser.

"For every high, there is a low. For every winner, there's a loser."

Fubuki's eyes were fixed on Psykos as she said those words. Once again, this is a major mind-read on my part that could be wrong, but I think Fubuki was worried that she was losing Psykos, who was the low to her high.

And in the modern day, Fubuki makes every attempt to defend Psykos and prevent her from being harmed. She tells her to give up nonviolently, catches her gallantly when she falls, and covertly takes her from the Hero Association when she's in danger. In the webcomic, her goal was even more explicit and aggressive; she took the initiative to break the law and steal Psykos from the Hero Association by force.

And from a practical standpoint, Psykos is everything the Blizzard Group needs. Someone who knows how to run an organization unseen, strengthen the odds of victory, and run a business in a support role. Fubuki is an inspiration to her people and a great leader who knows how to negotiate. Together, they'd be an awesome team.

And if the two came together romantically, it'd be a wonderful bookend to Psykos's journey. She needs someone to help her live as a human being again, and Fubuki can finally make amends for being sort of a mean little bean in the past.

That's my two cents on the matter.

...That was not quick and digestible at all lmfao

I hope that answers your question!

[carboysandbikemen]

okay i love your profile so much!!! do u think u can write something for lewis and max’s sister oc after abu dhabi last year?? like he’s really mad and she’s just there for him to use her and relieve the tension??

Thank you! We absolutely can!!! Love those toxic vibes ahah. This made me insane and it was such a (fucked up) joy to write, I hope it's close to what you wanted! (SORRY that it’s a bit fucked up 😬)-🐝

Consolation Prize

Warnings and tags: 18+ obvs, Angry hate-fuelled sex but all consensual, just a bit (probably a lot) toxic, blowjob, unprotected sex, spanking, under-negotiated kink I guess, anal fingering.

Word count: 2,479

Part 2

Of course, you're happy that Max has won. What sister wouldn't be? You can’t exactly be upset when you see him celebrating with the team before running over to you and picking you up, spinning you around as he laughs with joy at being a World Champion.

Although, you can’t help but catch Lewis' eyes as you look over Max's shoulder. The flirty teasing energy you've had, but never acted on, all season is gone, his eyes instead fixing you with a cold anger that makes your heart clench.

-

"Lewis." You start, but you realise you don't know what to say. Of course you're sorry but no words are going to make up for the fact that he just lost this championship by a technicality, by a flagrant and bias rule change.

"Don't. Just don't." He says, anger in his voice. The tension bleeding out into the room and nearly choking you.

"Do you want me to go?" You ask, voice small.

"I want you to get on your knees so I can fuck your face." He says, jaw clenched, almost like a challenge. Almost like he expects you to walk out and leave him.

You take a breath.

"Okay." You say, and sink to your knees.

His eyes widen and he glances down at you in shock, as if he can’t quite process what's happening.

"You… what are you doing?"

Lewis' voice is a little shaky, with anger mostly, but you manage to keep your resolve, jutting your chin up defiantly.

"You want me on my knees Lewis, well here I am. Take it. Take what you need." He steps closer to you. "Take me."

He moves to stand in front of you, whispering your name like a warning. This is so fucked up. This is borderline toxic, you know. But, as fucked up as you know this is, you need it.

"Are you sure?"

He's giving you a way out but you don't want it, all you want is him, all you can think about is him. You look down to his crotch where the outline of his dick is already visible and you can feel yourself getting desperate. Of course this isn't how you'd imagined this going but if this is how you're finally going to get him then so be it.

"I'm sure Lewis."

He grips your chin with his strong tattooed hand and tilts your head, and your line of sight, away from his crotch and up to his face. His eyes are set hard with frustration and anger but there's something underneath all that which calls to you.

Still, he's harsh with his movements as he puts his thumb inside your mouth and pushes down on your tongue so your mouth drops open.

"Will you tell me? If I go too far?"

"Yeah." You manage around his thumb.

Although you're not sure he could, go too far, not when you're so desperate to give him anything he needs right now to make this better.

He nods, eyes hardening slightly as he fucks two fingers into your mouth, testing your gag reflex. His eyes darken as you sit there and take it.

"Take your top off." He all but commands and you scramble to do it, unhooking your bra for good measure as he thumbs down his trousers and boxers, not even bothering to step out of them as he gets his hand around his hardening dick.

"That’s it." He says. "Fuck, look at you. Your brother’s just won the fucking championship and here you are on your knees for me like a good little whore."

"Lewis." You breathe out but it's full of need and want and he smirks.

He takes both his hands and runs them through your hair, gripping on as he pulls you towards him and you let him do it. The movement is a gentle pressure, but you can tell he's holding back, you can tell he wants to choke you on his cock. You can tell it's coming.

Slowly, he guides you onto his cock, and you sigh as you finally get your mouth around him. He's big, of course he is, but you're determined to take it. Not that he gives you much choice as he tightens his grip in your hair until it’s almost painful and guides you forward and backwards, fucking you onto him.

It's almost more demeaning this way, with him fucking you onto his dick rather than fucking your mouth himself, like you're just a little fucktoy for him to release his stress out on.

After a minute or so he picks up his pace, thrusting his hips at the same time, hitting the back of your throat and making you gag around him. It doesn't deter him though, and he fucks even harder into you, choking you as a few tears escape the corners of your eyes.

You want to take it further but he's so big. You need to take it further, you need this to be good for him.

Spit is dripping down your chin and onto your bare chest but you don't care, you grip his strong thighs for balance as you push yourself forward a little as he thrusts, really choking yourself on him this time, letting the tears run down your face.

You're pretty sure your makeup is ruined but as you look up Lewis is looking directly at you, face nearly impassive.

Suddenly, you're overwhelmed with the idea that this might be all you get. Things are so bad now between you all, between Lewis and your brother that realistically this is never going to happen. You might never get Lewis how you want him and if this is all you get, then you want more than Lewis coming down your throat.

Desperately, you take your hand on his thigh and tap him as you choke on his cock.

He pulls you off him but doesn't let go of his grip in your hair.

"What?” He says, annoyed and frustrated. He glares down at you with a level of contempt that makes you want to cry a little but you push past it.

"Lewis I want you to fuck me properly. I want you to come in me." You try and sound confident but your voice is raw, and you cant even imagine what you look like, teary eyed, makeup smudged with spit dripping from your lips and chin.

Lewis lets out a low noise that sounds like something between a groan and a growl and pulls you up to your feet.

You get the memo and quickly undo your jeans, pulling them down at the same time as your underwear and quickly flinging them into the same pile as your top while Lewis steps out of his clothes. He keeps the shirt on though, the Mercedes polo shirt, a constant reminder.

He manoeuvres you until you're bent over the arm of the sofa, running a hand down your back in a way that almost feels intimate. His hand continues down over your ass and dips between your legs.

You feel yourself blush into the cushions as he feels how wet you are.

Lewis laughs, but it's cold and mean. "Can't believe you're getting off on this. You're so fucking wet already."

He smacks your ass, making you jump and let out a small surprised noise.

"Practically dripping just from sucking my cock. Do you need it that badly? Do you need my dick in you that much?" He goads.

When you don't reply he smacks your ass again.

"Lewis." You whine at him.

Another smack on the other side.

"Tell me how much you want it. Beg me for it."

"Lewis please, please." You try but it's clearly not good enough as he lands another smack.

"Lewis, I need you to fuck me, please, I need it so badly."

You feel the head of his dick press against you and you sigh, fucking finally. Instead of giving you what you need though, he runs his dick up and down your wet folds, teasing you, bumping against your clit as you squirm under him.

He does this a few times as you moan and squirm, before placing himself with just the tip pushing against your hole and freezing.

You try to push back and he holds your hips so you cant move.

"Tell me who should have won today."

Fuck. All you need is for him to put his dick in you for god’s sake. Just do it Lewis, you think desperately, just fuck me already.

"You." You gasp out. "You should have won. You deserve to have won."

"Yeah?" he pushes in a little but then backs out again and you nearly cry from frustration.

"Yeah Lewis, you're the better driver, you always have been."

He fucks in again but not enough, withdrawing just as quickly. You get the point.

"It should have been you on that podium. It should have been you holding that trophy."

He does it again.

"I need you to fuck me Lewis I need to be fucked by an eight time world champion. You should have had that eighth."

Lewis doesn't move this time.

"You really will say anything for some dick won’t you."

The fucked up thing, you think as he pushes inside you, is that you're not lying. You really do believe everything you're saying no matter how much you know Lewis won’t ever believe you.

"What would Max think of you? If he knew you were here begging me to fuck you so badly you'd take away his title."

"Please." You say, and this time you can't help how your voice wobbles a bit, mostly from desperation but also from the need for Lewis to separate you from Max. It's all you've wanted all season, to get Lewis like this, and now you finally have him he's bringing it up.

You think he might get it though, because his grip falters slightly, and he breathes out a huff of air.

"Yeah, yeah okay." He gets out, before slowly sliding into you.

You can't help but let out a low moan that you bury into the pillow, muffling the sound as you struggle to stretch around him.

"Shit you're so tight."

You choke out another moan but this time he grabs your hair and pulls you up, pushing you back onto his cock more as you arch your back and get up onto your elbows.

"I want to hear you moan for me as I fuck your tight little cunt." Lewis demands and you feel yourself tighten around him at his words.

You let out a moan that comes out more like a whine and he picks up his pace, fucking into you faster as his hands grip your waist so tightly you think it might bruise.

The sting of a slap on your ass makes you jump, letting out a "Ahh," as he palms the red spot on your ass. You could feel yourself clench around him and you know he's probably going to do it again. It surprises you that you really, really, want him to do it again.

Thankfully he does, slapping the opposite side of your ass as he thrusts in and you moan without meaning to, a mix of his name and a needy desperate noise.

He picks up his pace again, fucking into you at a brutal pace. You're pretty sure you're getting friction burns from the fabric of the sofa against your hips.

It's good, its so so good, but you need more, you just need to…

As you move to put your hand between your legs to get some friction Lewis grabs it and puts it back with a small growled 'no.'

A small cry leaves your mouth as you realise what it means. Lewis isn't going to let you get off. He isn't going to let you come. He got fucked over tonight, he got fucked over all season. He didn't get the ending he wanted and now you won’t either. This is about him using your warm wet cunt as a hole to get himself off into, to fuck out his frustrations and anger and disappointment, to fuck over Max. This isn't about you.

His pace falters slightly and you can tell he's getting close. He pushes on your back so that you fall back down onto your stomach, back arched more for him. Running his thumb against your cunt, you think that finally he's going to give you some release but he doesn't, he just gets his thumb wet before moving up, past where his cock is pushing into you and pressing against your hole.

Without much warning, he presses his thumb inside of you and you tighten up at the feeling. You've never done that before. It's all so much and you need his hands on you so badly you could scream.

Your clenching must get to him, as Lewis suddenly groans, pressing deep into you as he hooks his thumb, pressing you almost painfully against the sofa as he comes inside of you.

"Fuck." He says after a moment, pulling out of you and watching as some of his cum leaks out. He takes his other hand and fingers some of it back into you as you desperately whine, needing anything.

Instead, he walks away, moving to grab his boxers and trousers.

This is it, you realise, this is all you're going to get. It's over, no matter how much you want more from him.

"Did that, um, help?" You don't know why you say it, god you really should have just left.

"Not really no. It doesn't make up for any of it." Lewis says bluntly. He's not looking at you.

"Yeah. No, of course." You scramble for your clothes feeling stupid, bending over to pull up your underwear as some of his come drips out of you. You can feel your face flushing with heat as you see him turn and notice it. He still says nothing.

"I'm going to just..."

He nods at you and you can feel your chest collapsing in on itself.

"I really did mean it you know. It wasn't just... I did mean it all. I'm so sorry."

You can't help it when the words spill from your mouth, but still, you can't stand to wait to see what he says, instead you quickly grab your coat and all but run out of the trailer, desperate to be anywhere except the gaze of Lewis' discerning eyes.

Maybe, you try and cling to hope, maybe he'll message you, when this has all blown over. Maybe this won’t be the end.

Although, as you walk away, your underwear dampening with every step, you can't help but feel like this is the end of something that never really had chance to begin.

[youcouldmakealife]

LBTE: Jared (136-137)

I love it when a plan comes together. Especially when, as in this case, the plan has been in motion for years (on my part, at least. More of a day-to-day thing on theirs)

If you want to follow along, you can here.

136. Hostage Negotiations

Fans howling or not: he’s a star player and you do not hand a star player to your divisional rival. You just don’t. Unless you’re like, the Leafs back in the day, but Lapointe had a bad season before that, and Jared suspects that deal was made on the winged feet of homophobia. The former GM of the Leafs and Deslauriers are probably poker buddies or something.

I like to picture the Old Boy’s Club as a real thing sometimes. It’s at a golf course, naturally. The only women are decorative. Scotch and cigars and toxic masculinity and white privilege and unearned cockiness. Random deer skulls because they like to mount their trophies. Etc.

“I mean, I hope I’m staying in the West,” Bryce says. “Calgary’s probably going to start reaching out, seeing who’s interested, ship me off before the NTC kicks in.

That would certainly be the clever thing to do, considering how few options they’ll have come July 1st. But then, when have the Flames done the clever thing in this universe?

The Senators beat the Scouts in a massive upset.

Scratch and Money become ScratchnMoney. And a Cup for Dan and the boys!

Greg goes back and forth with the Canucks. They ask for 5.5, even though Jared would have been content with the initial 4.5 offer, told him that, Greg exasperated with him on the other side of the phone. The Canucks agree to 5. He knows the two years combined are less than Bryce makes in a single year, but it’s — huge to him. They send him the papers, and Jared doesn’t know whether to sign them or not.

That’s 2.5 AAV on a two year deal, which is pretty fair as far as bridge deals go for a middle-sixer you use heavily on special teams. Jared could have, but didn’t want to sign for longer, with no idea where Bryce was going to be in two months, let alone two years.

“Still,” Jared says. “Foster’s like — he seems like a genuinely nice guy, maybe he’d—”

“He’s a GM, babe,” Bryce says. “He’s not going to just let you like, go because of love or whatever. It’s a business.”

If any GM would…

Jared signs everywhere he’s supposed to sign it, and that’s it. He’s a Canuck for two more years. Bryce has two more years on his contract, so — maybe in two years they’ll figure it out, manage to get to the same place together. It’s hard to be happy about that when two years sounds like, well, two years, when Bryce is already frayed close to snapping.

Obviously the situation is vastly improved very shortly, but I think Bryce going just about anywhere would have probably improved his mental state, though being in the East would be undoubtedly hard on them as a couple.

They crack open a nice bottle of wine, eat good dad cooking, and Jared gets his hair ruffled by his parents like, a billion times, like being a millionaire means they get to treat him like a kid again.

Jared gets so huffy when people fuck with his hair. Which of course both parents are aware of. Gotta keep him humble. (They’re also, you know, proud of their boy!)

“You were already a millionaire,” Erin says, her hand outstretched. Jared eyes it.

“What was your signing bonus, Jared?” Erin asks sweetly.

“Nothing,” Jared says. “Not a cent.”

“Jared,” Erin says, hand still outstretched. “The internet exists. It is literally public knowledge.”

Money please.

It was a quarter of a million dollars of his contract up front and Jared isn’t going to give her any of it. He already offered his parents a cheque and was rebuked and then offered again, citing financial support being the reason he had a hockey career, and had it very grudgingly accepted.

They both have well-paying middle-class jobs and aren’t hurting for money, but they are currently paying for Erin’s schooling and expenses, so it is eventually accepted (very grudgingly).

“Am I boring?” Jared says.

“You are the most exciting person in the world,” Bryce tells him, all earnestness, and takes his hand at the next red light.

Jared squeezes, then lets go. “Both hands on the wheel, babe,” he says.

“You can sometimes be a little boring,” Bryce says.

I mean —

Free-agency comes Bryce is still a Flame, which means all the leverage is his now.

Dropped a punctuation mark and/or word, whoops.

“Who’re your three?” Jared asks that night, fingers running through Bryce’s hair as Bryce drowses beside him.

“I haven’t decided yet,” Bryce says. “Like, I’m going to put Vancouver on it, obviously, but it’s just going to be a flat out no from them.”

“I know,” Jared says.

“If they gave in they’d ask Vancouver for way too much in return and they’d say no,” Bryce says.

“I know,” Jared repeats.

Bryce blows out a breath. “I wanna go so bad,” he says. “I just—”

The scheming is underway.

“I trust you in absolutely everything,” Bryce says solemnly, which automatically puts Jared on guard.

“Except?” Jared says.

“Be patient with me during the negotiations?” Bryce says.

Dave’s now involved in the scheming.

“Are you going to be booed the next time you play in the Saddledome?” Jared says.

Bryce smiles, and Jared doesn’t care if that means Bryce is playing further from him, that they may give up the apartment that’s felt like home since Jared was seventeen. He doesn’t care. Bryce smiled.

Jared really would light the Saddledome on fire for him. And not figuratively speaking.

137. Culmination

It’s all of twenty four hours after Summers comes to town that Bryce literally comes jogging in the door, yelling, “J?” like Jared isn’t sitting on the couch ten feet away from him half-watching the news. One nice thing about living in Vancouver is he doesn’t have to listen to the fucking UCP. “J, turn off your phone.”

He ran the entire way home. It was not a long run — partly due to distance, partly due to speed. He wanted Jared to hear it from him, especially if the ‘Bryce Marcus to Tampa’ came separate from the follow up ‘and then to Vancouver’.

“Your phone was about to go crazy and I need to tell you this before someone else does,” Bryce says, kneeling in front of him like he did last night, clean pressed suit and earnest eyes. “I’ve gotta sign papers still but—”

Practically a proposal, which is fitting because Bryce just did everything in his power to be where Jared was. And yes, it’s his hometown, and his childhood team, and his mom’s there, but he would have done it wherever Jared was (would have been easier to swing, in fact, were they not divisional opponents)

“Please tell me it’s a Western Conference team,” Jared says.

“It is,” Bryce says.

“If it’s Edmonton I’m going to be—” Jared says.

Bryce kisses him. “Shut up for a second,” he says.

Jared scowls, but does.

He knows your proposal derailing ways, Matheson.

“Three teams on my list,” Bryce says. “They picked one of them.”

“They would have to if you’ve been traded, unless you waived your NTC,” Jared says. “You know I know all of this, stop being all weird and cryptic and—”

Jared let him explain his and Dave’s plan to you, he wants you to be proud of his scheming!!!

“Tampa’s over the cap,” Bryce says. “And they were desperate to shed salary so they could re-sign Tanner before someone bit and offer-sheeted him and they gave Calgary Schlitz and Barbieri and a second for me.”

Dear RL NHL GMs: use more offer sheets, you utter cowards!!!

So, deal wise, Tampa comes out of this very nicely. They get cap space they needed, they shed good but too expensive players, and they trade a second for a first (from Vancouver when they flip Bryce), and a goalie prospect when they don’t have anyone particularly promising in the prospect pool.

Calgary gets a decent if not terrific haul from Tampa, and it looks like an okay if not great deal for them, but understandable given the short trade list. Until, well. The second flip. Then they look like dupes.

“Tampa can’t afford to keep me,” Bryce says. “Which is why Vancouver offered Tampa a first, a third, and a goalie prospect because Summers told Foster, strictly off the record, I’d re-sign in a heartbeat when my term was up and I’d give them a significant hometown discount when I did as long as my husband was still in the Canucks line-up when that time came. Do not fucking tell anyone that last part, not even your parents or my mom.”

Obviously Vancouver is over the moon about getting Bryce. Hometown hero, on a sweetheart deal for two more years, going to sign for cheap as long as Jared’s by his side.

Dave Summers was in violation of NHL rules and ethics for conveying that message to Vancouver and we should all tsk and shake our heads. (But we’re not gonna)

Jared beams at Bryce.

Bryce beams back.

This is what we’re doing instead.

“I can’t believe I made you this Machiavellian,” Jared says.

He’s so proud.

He IS so proud of your scheming, Bryce!

“They weren’t really — big on moving me at first,” Bryce says. “Like, even with the media shit and all, I’m on a deal that was pretty normal then but cheap now and they figured my play was back on track so like, may as well wait, see if they could get more for me next season at the trade deadline or throw me at someone before I was a UFA. So I maybe like, held out until my NTC kicked in and then mentioned that my trade value was higher right now because I hadn’t come out yet and I was considering it.”

This isn’t technically against rules or ethics because ‘player wants to come out’ is legally protected, at least in Canada, but you know, it's probably not morally in the clear. But I think weaponizing your sexuality against bosses who have been absolute shits about it falls under ‘they have it coming’ branch of ethics, ie: karma’s a bitch and so am I.

“You’re not considering it,” Jared says. If Bryce was even remotely considering it, Jared would have caught on.

Bryce shakes his head. “Not to media,” he says.

Famous last words, though that shoe won’t drop for a year and a half.

They're both smiling too hard for the kiss to be any good but Jared doesn't give a fuck, he hauls him in, tastes Bryce’s smile against his own, feeling like he can breathe easily for the first time in months.

All of Jared’s favourite kisses with Bryce are objectively bad because they all involve them both beaming their faces off and I love that, especially since Jared isn’t much of a grinner. (Bryce increasingly is, especially after moving to Vancouver, but Jared mentions Bryce grinning so much you’d think he has a perma-grin — he doesn’t, except around Jared.)

As much as ‘actually on the same team now’ calls for some terrific celebratory sex, it’s going to have to wait. Bryce has papers to sign. They have people to talk to. They are grown ass adults who cannot have celebratory sex.

Maturity is so boring.

“Foster wants to talk to you?” Bryce says.

Jared takes the phone.

“Hi Jared,” Foster says.

There’s a bit of a laugh in Brian’s voice right there because he’s been gleefully laughing to himself all day. He did absolutely nothing to earn this deal that makes him look like a genius except be a stand up guy and I am delighted for him.

“You tell Bryce he has the biggest brass balls I’ve ever seen,” his dad says.

This is the most Don has ever liked Bryce. And really the moment Don puts down the Flames fandom. He doesn’t know what was involved, but he suspected it was complicated, and that Bryce did some shit, and that he did that shit so he could be with his son, and Don can’t not admire that. (Also the brass balls.)

“How’d he keep this a secret?” Elaine says, now sounding completely incredulous.

Bryce is way better at keeping secrets than Jared or Elaine. But only if he considers the secrets GOOD secrets. Like ‘I want to marry you, I bought a ring’ — hidden for months. ‘I have been setting up a charity’ — four months of steady work before he felt confident letting Jared know about it. And some of that is Jared being oblivious, but Bryce is perfectly good at hiding something he considers a surprise rather than a secret.

He’s got a next text when he gets off the phone with her, Stephen has not stopped laughing since we found out. Legit is going to make himself puke. Imagine you’re slammed right now but give us a call when you get a minute?

Stephen is DELIGHTED by this. Gabe’s a little concerned honestly, the dude is puce coloured at this point.

“They’re going to boo you,” Jared says.

“I know,” Bryce says.

“Not just the first time,” Jared says. “They’re probably going to do it for years. They might do it for the rest of your career.”

Bryce shrugs. “I know.”

A lot of Bryce’s complete and utter exhaustion in the run up to this deal involved him coming to terms with and making peace with that fact; that he was going to leave Calgary on poor terms, that he was going to get a boo from the crowd rather than a tribute video and a standing ovation. And this was going to happen no matter where he went, but yes, going to Vancouver significantly upped the chances of that happening for the rest of his career.

Bryce shrugs again. “It’s going to suck,” he says. “I’m probably going to feel like shit. But like. I get to play for my hometown team, and live with you all year round, and be near my mom and my grandparents and it’s like — it’s worth it, so. Whatever I have to deal with, I’ll deal with. Plus like, it’s nice knowing going in that it won’t be a shitty room. Because if it was a shitty room you would have bitched about it. Hell, you bitched about the Oilers’ room being nice.”

How dare Darryl Rogers exist, being friendly and supportive to rookies.

“Well,” Jared says. Fair. Stupid Darryl Rogers being a nice guy and welcoming him kindly.

Literally Jared, tho.

“Dmitry—”

“Sounds like a totally normal dude, you just hate everyone,” Bryce says.

This is also probably fair.

“He pied my face,” Jared says. “Twice.”

“On your birthday,” Bryce says. “With shaving cream. Which is a tradition.”

“He pied my face,” Jared mutters.

God I love Jared.

“Want to rail me in your Canucks jersey?” Bryce asks.

I would suggest against this for purely Pavlovian reasons, but you do you boys.

Canucks blue really brings out Bryce’s eyes. It’s like, stunning, how beautiful they look.

“Less talk about my eyes, more getting your dick in me,” Bryce says.

The ONE time Jared tries to be romantic.

“Look at me?” Jared says, and when Bryce does, his eyes are so fucking blue.

“Vancouver,” Jared says, and tastes the grin that spills across Bryce’s face in response.

They did it!!! Took 137 parts, but they made it to the same place!

[checkoutmybookshelf]

The Boys are Back in Town

Most of the X-Wing series focused on either Wraith or Rogue squadron in their full capacities and on standard missions. That is NOT this book. This book focuses on Wedge Antillies, Wes Janson, Tycho Celchu, and Derek "Hobbie" Klivian as they slide inexorably from a diplomatic mission to something that Padme Amidala would unquestionably describe as "aggressive negotiations." Let's talk Starfighters of Adumar.

When you have a planet that has evolved outside of either imperial or republic influence that reveres pilots to an arguably unhealthy degree and you can't drag Luke Skywalker out of whatever he is currently doing, you get Wedge "I blew up two Death Stars, you don't scare me" Antilles. Wedge then puts together a crack team of his three best pilot buddies to hammer out a treaty between Adumar and the New Republic (I'd be LYING if I told you I was picturing anything other than Adam Sandler casting his best friends and taking them on epic vacations and incidentally making a movie for this bit).

As per usual, things go pear-shaped basically before they even get boots down on Adumar, because among its other problems, Adumar loves the HELL out of dueling. To the death. Usually with starfighters. Some asshole decides to try to increase his personal clout by shooting Wedge down as they fly in. This doesn't work, but hot damn does it set the tone...

The toxic dueling culture is not limited to snubfighters, however. Cheriss ke Hanadi (the undisputed queen of duels with blastswords) guides Red Squadron through the twists and turns of Adumari culture. That does not stop Wes from getting in a duel at the diplomatic reception, though. This duel is incredible because it's Wes giving an object lesson in how to humiliate the living hell out of an overly cocky opponent with a blastsword while functionally unarmed. This fight is glorious, and it's a beautiful follow-up to the "getting ready for the ball" scene our boys get to have where Wes lights up like a kid at Christmas when he discovers that blastswords are basically "blaster[s] that you have to hit people with."

Cheriss gets done a wee bit dirty by this book, because she basically develops a crush on Wedge, and when she finds out that he and Iella have gotten together, she sets herself up to get murdered by fighting a stupid number of duels in a row. The rest of Red Squardon steps in though, and as an added bonus, the New Republic medics give her a medication for her chronic vertigo to allow Cheriss to become a pilot. This series literally is not here for anyone who isn't a New Republic pilot, so I don't love Cheriss's arc, but honestly it could have been a lot worse, so I'm not complaining too hard.

The draw for this book though, is unquestionably the character work in our four protagonist pilots. The plot of the novel is pretty simple, all things considered, so Allston takes the opportunity to really dig into character for our boys, and getting to follow them on a somewhat nontraditional mission and using their skills as best they can is just FUN. As a friend says, this book is delicious candy fluff, and the characters are the candies.

Even when the mission goes directly to hell and Red Squadron has to run the gauntlet for their lives, the choices and twists and turns are largely character-driven. That makes what could have been a run-of-the-mill climactic escape into a really tense, well-constructed series of choices and consequences that are just FUN because of the characters who have been dropped into the situation.

There's objectively not too much substance to this book, but it ties Wraith Squadron as my favorite X-Wing book because of the character work and focus on the top four New Republic pilots. Plus, it's a little adorable that this is where Wedge and Iella really get together, and I am HERE for legends continuity legacy families.

[that-left-turn]

I know it's unlikely, but if offered the right deal, do you think Angela Kang could be hired as showrunner?

She's already on the production team and knows everything about Carol and Daryl and their story. The project she was supposed to be doing has been dropped (I think they're hoping another studio will pick it up, but it's been a LONG time, and nothing seems to be happening there).

Melissa was treated badly by AMC like AK was, and they offered her a huge deal to bring her back.

I don't know if Angela would want to come back, even if her development deal has expired. Some sets leave a lot of scar tissue and working on S11 was toxic enough that she had to seek professional help. But, if Angela was interested, I think Norman would throw a fit. He got her fired to make way for the current show. It reflects what he wants for Daryl and is an excellent example why non-writers should never be in charge of story.

As for Melissa's deal, it isn't all that good. Yes, she gets money, but far less than her male counterpart, the title of the show emphasizes this power imbalance and AMC didn't give her equal billing. Her EP credit is more a vanity title than something that allows her real input. Whatever she suggests gets mutilated in post and she clearly doesn't have influence over the larger narrative beyond her own character arc. I don't know how many Carylers negotiate their salary/benefits, but getting a fair deal isn't an easy achievement and often, especially as a woman, you have to settle for what you can get if you want the job.

Regardless, I think Angela would be a good showrunner for the spinoff. Her arcs are layered and the characters imperfectly human. She would've given the audience canon in the spinoff, along with a nuanced hero whose emotional maturity reflects his age and life experience. But, I also think she's forced to navigate difficult terrain as a WOC with less trust and more opposition from studio execs, not to mention the male EPs sabotaging her. She didn't expect to get shanked by the very people she worked with every day for over a decade on the flagship show.

The spinoff needs a showrunner with enough experience and clout to be able to take on studio execs and a difficult lead, and manage a production this size. It's a giant task to turn those numbers around, and I wouldn't blame Angela if she wanted no part of any of it. If there were to be a different showrunner and if Angela was available, I hope that person would consider bringing her onboard to at least write an episode. Like you said, she knows everything about these characters and their backstories, and maybe she'd be able to deliver the intended payoff for things she set up in the flagship show, like Daryl's facial scar.

[anymethynker]

I was interested in something so I watched all of Smoke’s intros with other characters, and mostly his civil with everyone. Except Shang Tsung.

It’s no big surprise, he is the bad guy, but even the other evil characters he’s civil with. I thought about it and I feel like he’s so hostile because he turned Bi-Han away from Kuai Liang and him, his family. If Shang Tsung didn’t try to negotiate about a team up, Bi-Han wouldn’t have gone bad(probably). Because of him, he lost his big brother and the person he idolized from such a young age.

And this got me thinking about a headcanon; if Tomas doesn’t like someone, they are someone you shouldn’t be around. It’s not like a toxic or paranoid person telling you not to trust a person. Tomas is such a genuinely nice and kind person, so everyone around likes him and want to get to know him. He’s such a wholesome person that he sees good in people that are actually bad people, though Shang Tsung is the exception because he has a grudge over him. But if Tomas doesn’t like a person, you know that person is monstrous. You should get away from that person as fast as you can because they cannot be trusted.

[hwaightme]

Your fan, Mingi (part 2)

(part 1) (your fan ml)

🎤 pairing: mingi x rapper!reader 🎤 genre: slice of life, mix of fluff and angst, music and the industry, slow burn 🎤 summary: a bulletpoint-style wordstream of what it would be like if mingi was stanning you 🎤 wordcount: 3.3k 🎤 warnings/tags: language, reader is a rapper, reader is a tattooed queen, mingi and reader collaboration, album of the year, big concert, toxic fandom (but it is overcome:)), mingi support, reader is a shining star, comfort, celebrity, hongjoong is proud dad, studio energy, write angsty rap, power couple, new future, new home 🎤 a/n: Hi <3 this is part 2 for Your fan, Mingi!! Part 1 can be found here. From the bottom of my heart thank you so much for your support and care, and as always, I greatly appreciate any asks, reblogs and likes!

You trusted Hongjoong. He was one of the only idol artists who you clicked with and remained connected to, and you had no regrets. He never pushed any subject you were not comfortable with, nor did he really mention idol life outside of music, composition, production and lyric writing.

Through him you had gotten to know more about the idol life, and just what it took for such a talented and prominent fourth generation group to do world tours, to do fansign events, to always be there for fans and create fantastic music.

There had been a couple of times previously that Hongjoong had implied that it would be interesting to collaborate with you, but you had brushed it off.

You had no idea whether you, having the standing that you did in the music industry, would benefit or suffer from such a collaboration. For you the thought of potentially having to have official big-scale promotions and delving into the political side of the industry was more than unpleasant.

It was clear that had you signed any contract for officially making a track with Hongjoong, you likely would have had to play by his company's rules, maybe even have had to fit a particular concept.

This time, however, Hongjoong had unknowingly hit you in your weak spot. He mentioned Song Mingi.

When Hongjoong and you had a listening session together, with him and yourself sharing some tracks, both released and in the works, you had fixated on the other rapper's voice and flow.

He had a unique tone, and a way of incorporating off-beats and delays that made you inadvertently shake your head and make the classic 'damn this shit is good' face. The highest level of approval.

You had not hesitated in informing your friend that Mingi was a gem in his team, and that you were grateful to have had the chance to listen to him.

And of course Hongjoong was going to remember that until the end of time and employ that information against you.

The text was simple, but did not leave much room for negotiation. Not that you would have refused anyways.

<MC MINION> hey Mingi loves you and wants to record a cover of your track Dum Spiro Spero. You cool with that + got instrumental?

You had to admit, you had been hopeful that a day would come when you could meet Mingi, especially after you had spotted him in the audience at your recent concert.

You were too cool to let your glee show, instead launching into one of your more challenging openers. Did you want to impress him? Yes. Did you want to spell out that you liked him? No.

It was lucky that your fans did not recognise him, or were polite and respectful enough to pay no mind, nor alert anyone on social media. So, in peace you could enjoy giving him the occasional glance throughout the show and let your inner fangirl perform a victory dance as you noticed he was completely enchanted.

So without any further thought, you sit send on an offer for them to come over to your studio and to make something completely new together. Bureaucratic shit could wait for a second, you had some self-wingwoman-ing to do.

They had arrived at record speed, much to your delight. And to say that your heart skipped a beat when you locked eyes with Mingi would be an understatement. You were envious of the unbelievable boom-bap that it had produced, barely being able to contain yourself.

Mingi was the same. Shining like a thousand suns, he stretched his hand out to you and once you did the same, could not help but admire the tattoos that were peeking out from under the sleeve of your oversized hoodie.

In a spur of emotion he blurted out a series of compliments, his hand still holding onto yours, him melting as you chuckled and sent warm words right back.

While deciding what the track was going to be, Hongjoong had suddenly decided to volunteer himself into an exclusively producer role, saying something along the lines of "the track will just sound better that way trust me"... which could be taken two ways.

Mingi swooned a little at the thought that Hongjoong was literally waving a green flag for him to make a RAP DUET with you.

While you, interpreting it as a subtle jab at your productions skills, clasped your hands together, uttering a low, "1v1 me dude I dare you"

Never before did Mingi see Hongjoong so unsettled, his hands flittering over your equipment as he laughed nervously. But in a matter of seconds a sweet smile returned to your face as you leaned back in the chair and said "you know that we are both control freaks right? Wait- Mingi? You a control freak or just freaky?"

His face slowly started turning beet red as he looked to his captain for reassurance. It did not help that you addressed him informally, catching him off-guard completely. But he did not mind. In fact, he liked it. A lot.

And with that buzz motivating you, you Hongjoong and Mingi began to write lines, lay down beats, nearly crash Ableton a couple of times, hold a mini-concert on some Launchpads, and made sure to include a catchy hook, credit to Hongthoven being in the house.

It was totally different seeing you work. Just as you were sweet and mellow when chatting away to him or Hongjoong, you were the world's energy personified both in the booth and while guiding Hongjoong if there was something he could not find, since the set up was slightly different.

Mingi could not take his eyes off you as you were recording your parts. The way in which you were fully immersed in the story spoke volumes about your professionalism, and how well you added vocals to his parts made his heart flutter. He could not help but imagine how this could sound live.

He wanted to take this out of the booth and into the world. To be that rap duo that everyone wanted to hear. So once it was his turn, he gave it all.

You were in awe. He was even better than before, and matched you impressively well. He had even used some of your beloved techniques, and took a rhythmic pattern from your part to emphasise its importance. You could not help but lean over to Hongjoong, who was looking awfully similar to a Cheshire cat, and whisper:

"I need an album with this guy."

"He's all yours. Trust me, he'll break KQ down if you tell him."

Now it was your turn to blush. Who were you? A school girl? Maybe. Maybe on the inside there was a little school girl. You didn't mind though. Not one bit. You liked it. And though you were still one to want to keep that tough girl persona, you admitted you had a soft spot for the gentle giant.

After the first day of working on the track had gone incredibly well, Hongjoong and Mingi had taken straight to management to convince them that this was going to be a hit. Later that same night, on an hour-long zoom call with you, your agent, Hongjoong, Mingi and their management present, you had all agreed on terms and were ready to make the track official for future release.

You knew that this was likely going to involve a lot more publicity, and was going to be something new, but Mingi had highlighted, when the topic of promotions came up, that he did not want to follow a hardcore route, instead opting more for the few but highly sought after appearances. Hongjoong simply agreed.

It was obvious to you that Mingi was doing this out of consideration for you, and it did make you think that maybe he saw you as weak, but that evaporated once the call was done and he messaged you privately.

<MC Mango> Hey Y/N! Just wanted to say that I am so excited to be able to actually make this track with you! Feels like a dream haha

<you> Hi Mingi, likewise :) super cool stuff, you coming to the studio @ 10am tomorrow right?

<MC Mango> You know it! Also, what's your favourite food?

Well that was random, but you decided to answer anyways

<you> Nachos are life.

<MC Mango> RESPECT! Okay thank you :D

<you> You mysterious man... O_O

<MC Mango> See you tomorrow Y/N :) <3

<you> haha see you :) <3

His addition of the heart made your heart do flip flops. You really were getting too soft. So you put on your noise cancelling headphones, and in your best nature, turned up an aggressive hiphop and trap playlist.

And yet, thoughts of him did not want to leave, so instead, you returned to tweaking what you had recorded today, listening to his wonderful voice many times over.

After a few more days of the two ATEEZ members basically living in your studio (and Mingi bringing nachos for you because of that one text you sent), you were officially finished with the preparation of the track, having mastered it to the highest quality attainable, and after that, it was a big time rush to tie up all the loose ends for the set release.

The way that this one song scaled in terms of production was unprecedented, and compared to your lonely nights in the studio or at most, five people working on an album, you could not help but feel like you did not deserve this.

You felt like everything was being taken out of your control, and there were moments when you, quite literally, had no idea what was happening, neither with your song nor with what the bureaucrats had lined up for you. It was all simply too much. Too loud, too much like a hive.

So walked right into your studio, and got to writing.

The words came naturally to you, and it was your fingers that were struggling to keep up as you let loose on the pages in front of you. The message was simple enough, but it resonated. The feeling of realising that you will never really quite know a person, or the wide network of people who are connected to you.

Just as you were finishing up, you noticed that the second verse seemed to have a slightly different voice. One that was too similar to a certain tall rapper. Oh you were in deep.

You were alerted by a soft knock on the door, and looked up to see none other than Mingi, poking his head in, evidently worried. You could not be happier to see him.

"Hey, you weren't at KQ so I figured I could find you here. What's up? Can I come in?"

He asked, ever so gentle. As he ambled across the room upon shutting the door behind him, you noticed he had a plastic bag in his hands. After seeing your line of vision stop at the object, he raised it a little, explaining:

"I brought some fuel. There were these cool new fusion kimbap rolls launched, and I wanted to try them with you."

With you. The words repeated in your head. You thanked him, and patted the seat beside you. There was no need for you to explain why you were taking some time out, Mingi understood in a heartbeat.

The only thing that mattered to him was that you were still here, smiling, and more than happy to see him. Be with him.

You slid over the lyrics you had written for a still untitled rough idea, asking him for his opinion. Brows furrowed, he leaned over, closer to you.

"Oh this flows... nice... oh I really like that line. Wait why did you write 'Fix On'?"

"Guess."

"Wait, no way. Is this us?"

"Well... it could be?" you left the question hanging in the air. Silence fell upon the room as he looked deep into your eyes.

"This... is going to be THE BEST ALBUM EVER LET'S DO THIS!" he almost deafened you with his scream for joy as he jumped up from the chair, taking you with him and wrapping you up in a tight hug.

At first you were frozen, unsure of what in the world you were supposed to be doing, but as seconds passed and he was not planning on letting go, you chuckled and returned the embrace, rocking just a little.

Another spark passed between you as both of you felt that this was definitely going to be much more than just an album.

As days turned into weeks, and one song turned into a mini album, your interactions with Mingi also changed. Instead of just staying in the studio to work, you now spent hours on end in the space just staying together to chat. Initially sat opposite one another, but recently, intertwined in a cuddle on the couch, both of you looking at either your phone or his.

When Hongjoong was in the studio too, he was constantly eyeing both of you with a cheeky smirk.

It had already been five times that the rest of the members, led by Yunho, crashed the studio 'to see how things were going' and to 'see Mingi because they have not seen him in so long'. Soon enough that had also changed to 'you know what just take him forever he doesn't stop talking about you anyways'.

Though you had not made it official yet, everything was progressing in that direction. Both him and you were evolving thanks to your collaboration, and had only one wish: for this to never end.

Mingi had helped you familiarise yourself with official photoshoots, and you had given him freestyling tricks for 'the future'.

Once the mini album dropped, it seemed that everything you knew combusted.

Initially, your fans, those fans who you held so dear and worked tirelessly for, were pouring in with nothing but disappointment and hatred. You were appalled. It was also obvious that they had not listened to any of the tracks, and they were just displeased that now you were 'searching for the mainstream, sucking up to popular culture and losing yourself'.

It would be a lie to say you did not spend nights after the release in tears, instead of celebrating. Hiding in your beloved studio, you could not stop yourself from composing sad track after sad track, trying to find an outlet for your anguish. You knew you should not have done this. You knew you should not have loved.

You did not answer Mingi's calls, nor his messages, but when he bust through the door, misty-eyed and crying out your name, you collapsed into his arms as he comforted you, promising you that he would always be there. No matter how hard things seemed.

Once you had calmed down, he took out his phone and started showing you some screenshots. Then went on Twitter, and then even searched up articles related to your collaboration. He wanted to show you that there was a different side to the story.

And oh how bright it was.

ATINY were overwhelmingly positive about this surprise release, praising both Mingi's and your talents, and diving into searching for more of your content.

You read the critics raving about each track, especially the first one, which you had made into the title track.

The public was calling for this to be in concert. On a show. Anywhere where they could feel this live. You took Mingi's hand and slipped your fingers through his, and he responded by bringing you closer, kissing your cheek.

"And finally, take a look," and he showed you one more page. Your social media page. With the follower count unlike anything you have ever seen before, even though you had experienced a crash just a few days ago. And a flood of comments of appreciation and gratitude. In that moment, you returned to Mingi, and pulled him into a hope-filled kiss.

It was interesting doing promotions as a new couple. Though you had not revealed the relationship, multiple public figures had commented on your 'unique chemistry' and 'what seemed to be musical telepathy'.

On a couple of shows onto which you had agreed to go, (given the condition that Mingi would be there too) you shined. Initially you were irked by their requests that you covered up your tattoos, but as it turned out, long-sleeved, form fitting turtlenecks and modern cyber and industrial wear quickly became your signature.

Your agent was ecstatic at your rise in popularity, and was now almost always on new phone calls, even negotiating with some brands who wished to do advertising with you.

And Mingi, well, he was falling in love with you more and more, as you shined brighter and brighter. During a small break in your promotions to accommodate ATEEZ's pre-filming, he continuously messaged you and even invited you onto the film set, where you had the chance to mingle more with the staff.

You had gotten to know a lot of them closely, even recognising some from the time of initial preparations for your album with Mingi, and took no time to present them with small thank you gifts, and helping them out when you could.

Their attitude towards you also softened, with one of the younger interns admitting that initially, she had perceived you as a much scarier and stricter figure, and after hearing some rumours. To this, you responded with a light-hearted laugh, and thanked her for the honestly.

How glad you were that Mingi had snuck out to see you that day, and that serendipity had brought you a friend in the form of Hongjoong.

Fast-forward a couple of months, and you were having the largest-scale concert of your career. Before, it used to be within the hundreds at most, the highest profile one having approached one thousand.

But now, there were a few thousand voices, all chanting your name. The venue was sold out in record time, and the first batch of merch that you had designed, with Mingi cheering you on in the background, was nearly sold out. The concert merch too, had been swept off the stalls.

It was exhilarating. You were alive. Before, it was you breathing life into the audience, sharing your energy with them, connecting to them and lighting up the room. But now, the exchange was mutual, and in some moments, you were flabbergasted at the pulsating force of the crowd. They were there for you. They were cheering for you. They knew your words by heart and were overjoyed to be in this time and space with you.

You were on the extended platform connected to the main stage that went further into the audience. A peninsula, surrounded by a sea of shimmering glow and the wonderful people attending. It was time for you to perform the title track of your and Mingi's album. You were seated on one of the two stools that were right in the centre of the 'peninsula'. One single spotlight on you.

The crowd roared, signaling Mingi's approach in the darkness. You felt his back press against yours, his heartbeat steady, giving you rhythm, giving you reassurance. While your microphones were still off, but he moved his away just in case, you heard him whisper to you quick words of adoration, and a cheerful 'let's do this'.

In this wide world, you had always thought that keeping your circle small, your fanbase small, and your music inaccessible was the only way to preserve identity. But you had grown. You had now understood that you had been selfish, denying those who wanted to dream the opportunity to do so.

Now on the stage, together with the love of your life and with the universe surrounding you, you were truly alive, and truly an artist.