#first i thought well maybe it was just a neat little word that he heard and felt like using. BUT

[ohworm-writes]

THIGH RIDING NIKOLAI THIGH RIDING NIKOLAI THIGH RIDING NIKOLAIIII😔😔😔 (please wxcuse me)

FUCK I CAN'T BELIEVE I NEVER ANSWERED THIS ASK BECAUSE GOOD GODS I HAVE SO MANY THOUGHTS ABOUT IT. When I first saw this ask I genuinely lost it so no you will not be excused - you are being getting a VIP seat as I stand on the stage and lose my mind about this concept.

PAIRING f!reader x Nikolai RATING R - Restricted [ Content warnings: 18+ mdni, hard dom!Nikolai, thigh riding, some praise and degradation ]

It's his favorite thing, right next to being inside of you, because of course nothing can top that.

But just... having you, such a perfect little thing, straddling one of his big, thick thighs, dressed in absolutely fucking nothing while he's fully clothed, leaning back in his seat as he watches you desperately rut against his jeans like a puppy in heat?

It's no wonder the man enjoys it so much when you make such pretty, sweet sounds for him! And the way you're all disheveled, jaw slacked and sweating slightly, your poor cunt absolutely drooling slick all over his jeans with your tits bouncing as you grind back and forth, too!

And while he's made you into the perfect mess, he's leaning back wherever he's sitting - maybe in a chair at a desk, on the couch, in the pilot's seat of his helicopter... wherever it may be - soaking in the sight with lidded eyes and a lazy, cruel grin.

"Look at you... fucking yourself on my thigh like a whore."

He mumbles the words under his breath, his tone filled with that deep, heavy gravel. It's almost like he's cooing at you, but his words have too much of a mean bite to them to be considered a sweet coo that you've heard come from him before.

I can't decide whether or not he'd have his hands on or off of you, because both make sense.

Like- picture him leaning back on a couch, arms stretched out behind him along the back of it as he watches you, completely composed with his hair pulled back all neat, freshly groomed, just watching you get off on his thigh.

Or... imagine a similar situation, with him still on that couch, but instead of being leant back, he's leant forwards, hands gripping your hips either lazily or in a vice, feeling you guide yourself along the length of his thigh, giving out heavy exhales through his nostrils as his eyes fixate on where your pussy stains his jeans.

Oh! And speaking of! He's so teasing you for that!

"You are dirtying my pants, лапушка (sweetheart). You're going to clean your mess when you are done, да (yes)?"

And, newsflash, you better say yes or, at the very least, give him some sort of indication that you're agreeing with him - an affirmative hum, a nod, something. As much as those words can be taken as an offhand comment, he means his words.

Know and trust that, one you get off, (both in the sense of cumming and physically getting off of his lap) he expects you to clean up the mess you've made like the obedient thing you are.

With your tongue on your knees in front of him, preferably, he would say. But that's a point for another time.

Now, back to the subject at hand.

He's ruined you - this is a known fact.

And it's even more well know to the two of you that, since waltzing into your life, he's become the only thing that can make you cum. So all of those sloppy, desperate ruts you make against his thigh, as stimulating as they are, can't get you to finish.

You're just not able to grind yourself fast enough or hard enough against his jeans, not getting enough stimulation to push you over the edge. So, the only solution? Whimpering and whining and begging him with tears in your eyes for him to help.

And fuck, he's so mean. :( Humming absentmindedly, completely ignoring your pleas, tutting at you and clicking his tongue in disapproval when you grab at his hands with the intention of encouraging him to do the work.

This was what you wanted, no? To ride his thigh like the desperate dog you are? Isn't that right? But oh, look at your poor face. He'd be cruel to deny you for longer than you can take, now wouldn't he be?

So, with his hands grabbing at the fat of your thighs, he drags you along the length of his thigh, pulling you up near his crotch and pushing you all the way back towards his knee.

Fuck, I bet you he spits down on his jeans too, just to make the surface a fraction more comfortable for your pussy to grind against. :( It's so nasty and messy but it's so hot at the same time, so who gives a fuck!

And if you can't get off still with just grinding against him, he'll bring his fingers down to your clit and just fucking abuse it as you leak and, eventually, cum all over his jeans, the fabric all slick and a mess and just... ugh.

Thigh riding Nikolai, thank you and good night. That's all folks. <3

#nik x reader #nikolai x reader #cod nikolai x reader #nikolai cod x reader #cod x reader #call of duty x reader

[gojonanami]

❝ 𝐘𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐙𝐀 𝐅𝐈𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 ❞

❝ WHAT HAPPENS WHEN TWO YAKUZA HEIRS ARE FIGHTING OVER WHO GETS TO MARRY YOU ?? ❞

✧ pairing: yakuza!satoru gojo x f!reader x yakuza!suguru geto

✧ summary: you had no patience for the yakuza lifestyle your grandfather had -- you wanted to live a normal life, but when it leaks that your grandfather is in talks to have you engaged to one of two yakuza heirs -- you realize you're in deeper than you thought -- especially when they both fall in love with you.

✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, fluff, inspired / dialogue / scene concepts taken from the manga “yakuza fiance,” (which the fic is named after), reader's age is ambiguous, but all are 20s+, violence (as expected from mafia / yakuza stories), blood, stsg have tattoos, implied satosugu (just a passing mention of dating briefly), stsg have sadomasochistic tendencies, a little ooc, switch! gojo (very sub gojo), switch! geto, oral (f + m), deepthroating, handjob (m), fingering (f! receiving), double penetration, sex (p in v), creampie, poly relationship implied ending,

✧ wc: 18,476

“I don’t want to marry either of you,” 

And your statement is met with confused stares — and normally stares like this wouldn’t be terrifying to the average person, but these were not average men you were dealing with. 

Satoru Gojo and Suguru Geto were anything but average — in many ways. 

Both were incredibly handsome — Satoru was blessed with a piercing blue gaze of the heavens and snow white locks that could stun any person into silence, and Suguru was no slouch either — with long inky black locks tied into a neat bun and his sharp features and his almost all too alluring smile — the two of them looked like they belonged to a modeling agency. Both were also brilliant, attending one of the best high schools in Tokyo, before going to the best university, leading in their respective specialities (Satoru studying physics, while Suguru chose literature). 

And, the two were both the heirs to two of the most dangerous Yakuza families in all of Japan. 

But right now, they are your biggest problems, personified. 

Their families were both vying for your hand in marriage — thanks to your meddling grandfather who shipped you off to Tokyo to get a would-be Yakuza husband — your yakuza family hoping to broker peace after decades upon decades of fighting with one of the other two biggest yakuza families around — the Gojo and Geto families respectively. 

“Excuse me?” Suguru speaks first, a single eyebrow raised, arms crossed over his crisp white button up. 

“I’m not here for this yakuza bullshit. I’m trying to live my own life — and I’m not in the mood to get swept along in my grandfather’s wishes for me to get married,” your hand is in your bag, fingers curled around your collapsible metal pole, “and I don’t care to know either of you, I don’t really care to stick around you — especially because all its earned me is the disdain of all the other students who have crushes on you — so how about we simply tolerate each other for this year?” 

Satoru whistles, “how disappointing,” his eyes raking over you from head to toe, “you’re worse than your reputation — we heard you were a stuck-up, spoiled rich girl that would do anything to get her way, but turns out you’re just normal,” he sticks out his tongue and makes a gagging noise, “how boring,” 

“Truly tiresome,” Suguru hums, his bangs falling in his dark gaze, “I was looking forward to a woman who could match up to us — maybe fuck me up, punish me, and strip away my dignity — type of girl who’d ruin my life, do you understand?” 

You stare at him, lips parted, brow furrowed, “What?” 

“In other words, we were hoping you were much more interesting than you were — as you are now, you’re just useless,” Satoru sighs dramatically, his pink lips curled in a smile, “bor-inggggg,” 

“You might as well go back to Osaka, or wherever it was you came from,” Suguru shrugs, hands in his pockets, as he pulls a cigarette and a lighter, “you could stay, but as it stands, you would be better off back home — maybe it would even start a war — that could be fun, Satoru,” he remarks, his grin growing more sinister by the minute, as he places the cigarette between his lips, and lighting it. 

“Let’s actually not be so hasty, Suguru. She could have some use,” he holds out his fingers to frame you between them, “could be worth something if we have her work at one of our families clubs — selling her body. She could make some use for us,” he says cruelly, “Otherwise, go back home, and let them know we’re the ones not interested in you,” he says, brushing past you along with Suguru. 

And you couldn’t decide which one of their smiles were the most bone chilling — and why you couldn’t quite find your voice in that moment. And you didn’t — not until you finally reached home, your phone ringing. 

“How’s it going, dear granddaughter?” you could hear the grin of the old coot even over the phone — and how could you tell him you wanted to go home now? You had hoped to go there to give two rejections — not earn two of your own. You hoped to stick out the year before leaving this place behind, if only to appease your grandfather. 

“I’m fine, but I think…I think I’m homesick,” you sit on the edge of your bed, hunched over, hand holding your head up, propped against your knee. 

“Why’s that? Did something happen?” 

“Nothing, I just—” 

“You’re not coming back home,” and your hopes fall, “one year, you have to stay one year no matter what. Don’t care if you have to fight with every bone in your body and fiber of your being — last a year,” 

“But why—” 

“Make those boys fall for you, and then break their hearts, heh — your grandfather is a heartbreaker and I know you can do the same,” and you know his lips are curled in a smile not too dissimilar to the two men you met today, “don’t forget where you come from — and what you’re worth,” and he cuts the line, as you stare at your phone, before tossing it away and lying back. 

Well, you know what you had to do. 

~~~

“Morning,” you know where’d they be — the only free period they had together that they spent in the dining hall with their entourage — including some girls who had been harassing you about how you knew the pair — ones you had suspected in fucking with your locker, smearing mud all over your shoes. A small retaliation for capturing their precious crushes’ attention.

The two heirs only stare for a moment — it had been two weeks since they had seen you, “thought I had gone home?” 

“Surprised you didn’t,” Suguru remarks, utterly disinterested from the look in his eyes, despite the smile plastered on his lips, “guess I lost the bet, Satoru,” 

You raise an eyebrow at Satoru, “you thought I’d stay?” 

“Thought you'd stay to take me up on my offer to sell your body,” he holds out his hand as Suguru slaps a stack of bills in his palm, “did you?” 

“I did actually,” your lips curl, as their gazes slide to one another, before you drop a bag on their table, “one kidney, 5,000,000 yen,” and you take delight in the smiles that slide off their expressions, as they stare at you, Satoru looking over the lip of the bag before you knocked it over and let the stacks of money spill over the table, “it took two weeks since it took a while to arrange and recover, but it was well worth it,” 

The pair only can stare — expression unreadable and words seemingly stolen from their mouths, as you only smiled down at them, your gaze digging into their faces like daggers.

Suguru’s eyebrows knit together, “How did you—“ 

“Friend of a friend,” you shrug, “I’ll have to be on a low sodium diet and probably do blood work a little more frequently but you were right about one thing — I was being weak,” you lift up your shirt to show the bandage on your side, their eyes wide, as they can only stare, “I won’t be making that mistake again,” 

And you place your foot up on their table, leaning in, as the mask slips from your face, and your anger surges forth, “listen here, you masochistic fuckers, I’m not scared of either one of you. I don’t care if I have to crawl home choking on my own blood, I’ll be sure you’re choking on each other’s as I drag you both to hell. I’m staying here, whether either of you like it or not,” 

“You can’t talk to them like that—“ one of the girls pipes up, her lips twisted in a frown. 

“I can talk to them however I want - do you know who I am? I come from a family just like there’s but we actually know how to cover up our crimes,” you chuckle, head tilting, “do you know how easy it’d be to get rid of you two?” Your gaze slides to the other girl, “it’d be all too simple — and trust me, I’d get my hands dirty if it’s the two of you,” your lips curl into a wide grin as you add, “after all, you guys did me the favor of dirtying my shoes already,” 

And the two blanch white, all indignance replaced with genuine fear — and you had never known someone could look at you as someone to be feared. 

And you didn’t know you would like it so much. 

You staple the smile on your face again, as the two heirs still sit speechless in their seats, eyes glued to you,  “Well that’s all,” you slide back, “I have to head to class—” 

But then your wrists are caught — pulling you back, as you find yourself pinned on either side by the two heirs, your body tense, before your gaze slides between them, “What?” 

“Marry me,” they both say simultaneously — and you gape at them. 

You are pushing them back, palms pressed against their chests, but find yourself met with two immovable objects, instead trying to squirm out of their grips. “What?” And their grips loosen enough for you to take a step back, but their hands remain around your wrists. 

“I have to have you,” Suguru presses a chaste kiss to the back of your hand, dark gaze lidded as he looks up at you, and a shiver climbs up your spine, “I’ve never been so terrified or turned on in my life — it must be love,” 

Satoru is the same, mesmerized with eager words, “I want you to do what you promised, Princess — ruin my life,” Satoru’s lips curled in a wide grin, “want you to completely fuck me up, dominate my entire life — and there’s only one way to do that, marry me,” 

Suguru only scowls at Satoru, “You know Satoru, it’s very rude to propose after your best friend does,” Suguru’s gaze slides to him, “she’s mine,” and his other hand finds your shoulder, pulling you against his chest, even as you struggle against their grips, “her family reached out to mine first,” 

“Fuckers, I swear to god, let me go—“ but they act as if they can’t hear you, a current of possessiveness sweeping their thoughts away. 

“So what? Her family decided to ask for my hand — looks like yours wasn’t good enough,” Satoru only grins, pulling you against him instead, his breath warming your flushed skin, as you grimace, “and I’d make her happier than you ever would.” 

“Want to take this outside, Satoru?” Suguru’s glare sent chills down your spine, but Satoru’s lips split into a smile so wide, you were afraid his head would crack in two. 

“Why? Feeling lonely? Go by yourself,”

And finally you stomp on Satoru’s foot before elbowing Suguru in the stomach, drawing groans from both boys, as you stumble away from them, whirling to face them, “Don’t treat me like your goddamn property or that I’m a prize to be won,” your words slip like venom from your lips, “don’t ever fucking touch me without asking,” 

“Of course, we’re sorry,” Suguru only grins after, holding his stomach, but he still looks all too delighted, “you should reprimand us like the scum we are, isn’t that right Satoru?” 

Satoru nods, pouting, “Yeah we deserve more of a punishment,” and your skin crawls at their eagerness. 

“I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with you two, but I don’t want anything to do with it,” you walk away, hiding your dumbstruck expression, but the two only followed you. 

“You can’t just walk away from us, you have to decide who you want,” Suguru calls after you, their long strides meant they caught up all too fast, and you’re armed with your collapsible pole now, pointing it at both of them. 

“Two minutes ago, both of you thought I was normal and boring,” your eyes narrow — was this another plot to just sell you to some club? 

“And I’m sorry about that sweetheart,” Satoru’s arm is around your waist again, while Suguru’s fingers intertwined with yours, “we were clearly wrong — and you have to take responsibility,” 

You stare at them, “for what?” 

And he’s leaning to whisper in your ear, “I’m so hard for you right now,” And you’re whirling on them with the pole, but they both expertly dodge your assault, before you’re hurrying away. But they let you go, watching after you with a grin. 

“This is going to be fun,” Suguru remarks, looking at his best friend, “I can’t guarantee I won’t kill you for her hand,” 

Satoru only smirks in reply, “You stole the words out of my mouth, Suguru.” 

~~~

It had been a week — a week of you trying skillfully to evade the two yakuza heirs. 

And you had failed. No matter how fast you left your classes, where you hid, where you sat — the two always found you. And now you have resorted to sitting outside to eat your lunch, being careful to avoid any stray glance of your presence. You sat, back against the building, as you held your head, bento box in your lap — how long until they would get the message? How long until they figured out you wanted nothing to do with them? 

Your grandpa had told you to make them fall for you, but you didn’t think you had too much more to do with how the two were following you around, dogging your every step. 

How would you last another year? 

You opened your bento — at least for once, you could enjoy your lunch without one of them— 

“There you are,” and your lunch nearly goes tumbling out of your lap, but you grasp it, keeping your food from spilling out of your bento, and you turn to meet the gaze of Suguru, leaning against the windowsill, “you’re a fast one, sweetheart,” his head tilted and lips curled in his signature smile. 

“How the fuck did you find me so fast?” you stare at him, brow furrowed, “it’s barely been five minutes, and this campus is huge,” 

“It’s the power of love, of course,” you cringe, and he laughs, bringing his knuckles to his lips, “oh rather, it’s the power of the tracking device I slipped in your bag,” 

And you blink, “You what?” 

He shrugs, “Well how else would I have found you so quickly? I’ll slip it in your shoe next time,” and he sighs, as you dig through your bag, before turning it upside down and letting your things spill out on the grass, “besides, there’s a good reason I’m tracking you,” and you find the tracker before stomping on it, digging your heel into it, crushing it into the dirt, “there’s been a kidnapping of another Yakuza heiress,” 

And your eyes flit to him, and he’s still smiling at you, “Who?” you continue to collect your things, shaking out textbooks and examining your things for any other hidden trackers. 

“You’ll learn tonight — come to the compound tonight — you’ve been formally invited by both my father and Satoru’s father,” and he’s hopping out of the window, fingers brushing yours as he hands you your pencil case, and he’s all too close now, his warm breath warming your lips. 

“And if I refuse?” and his lips curl in a smirk. 

“You’d be offending not only my family, but Satoru’s as well—” and he’s rising to his feet, offering you a hand, “and it might end in an all out war, but that would be just fine for us — would it for you?” 

You glare at him, taking his hand reluctantly, as he helps you to your feet, and you brush the dirt from your skirt and legs, “Fine, what time?” 

“After school, Satoru will be waiting by the gates for you,” he smiles, as he settles next to you, pulling out his own lunch, and you tilt your head, “oh are you curious about me? I have my own business to attend to,” 

“Is that what the other bastard is up to?” and he chuckles at that, taking a bite of his food. 

“Something like that.” 

~~~~

“Took you long enough, pretty,” the Gojo heir’s eyes drag over you like spotlights as he leans against the gate outside, the other students staring as you two speak, whispering as they walk by, slowing down to either catch a longer glance at Satoru or hear a bit of your conversation, “with being so quick to leave for lunch, I thought you’d be just as quick leaving the building,” and he’s offering you a drink from the vending machine that you reluctantly take. 

“Well, I wasn’t exactly looking forward to being a spectacle,” you grumble, as you power walk away from the burgeoning traffic jam that Satoru was causing, and he follows behind, “why do they all stare anyway? They know you're a yakuza, don’t they?” 

“Part of the draw,” he shrugs, the hiss of his own soda filling the air as he pops it open, “everyone wants what they can’t have, but don’t worry, I only have eyes for you, sweetheart,” you grimace as he sips at his soda, raising an eyebrow, “so what can’t you have?” 

You both finally reach the heart of the city, bustling with people left and right — the one thing you couldn’t get used to from the quieter life you led, “Some peace and quiet, apparently,” you adjust your bag on your shoulder in a tighter grip, if only you could lose him in this crowd and be done with all this shit, but it wasn’t that simple, and then it occurs to you, “did you put a tracker on me as well?” 

“Nah, I just used Suguru’s,” he smiles, as he downs the rest of his drink with his head thrown back, before crushing the can in his hand and tossing it away in the recycling bin nearby, “plus, I didn’t have time, been busy with other things, unfortunately,” 

“What things have you—” 

And you’re suddenly tugged into an alleyway, an arm around your neck and a hand clamped over your mouth, “Don’t struggle, it will only make it more difficult for you,” the man whispers in your ear, as another two men draw closer to your sides, “we’ll kill you if you do,” 

You can’t scream, but you don’t need to — because the man who grabbed you screams first. 

“Who the fuck are—” and he screams, his hands slipping from your side, the thump of his body against the pavement making you flinch, as you slowly turn to find Gojo, as he only glares at the other men, before his gaze slides to you, softening with a smile. 

“Sweetheart, it’s okay, come here,” and you swallow, before taking shaky steps to his side, and he’s pulling you behind him, “wait here,” 

It happens far too quickly.

Or maybe it’s just a blur now. Because now he’s beaten the three men into submission, their scarlet blood splattering against his uniform, the wet squelch of their flesh as he punches and kicks them, his shoe digging into their sides. He winds his fist back again. 

“That’s enough,” you say hoarsely, swallowing thickly, “they’re barely alive,” 

“More than they deserve,” he mutters, before sighing and grabbing one by his shirt, fabric straining against the dead weight of the man, and pulls him close, his hand connecting with his face as he slaps him awake, “You hear me? Listen,” he shakes him, until the man’s eyes blink open, bleary, “You see me? Don’t forget my face. You touch her again — and it’s the last thing you’ll see before the afterlife, got that?” 

“Yes,” the man slurs. 

“That’s my girl,” he jerks his head at you, “she’s mine and if you or any of your stupid friends or family see her, don’t talk or touch her, much less even look at her,” and his lips curl again, “or I promise my family and the Geto family will slaughter you — until there’s nothing left.” and he drops the man onto the ground, “let’s go,” he mutters, shaking the blood off his knuckles, before using the inside of his uniform jacket to wipe the rest off. 

“Your uniform, it's—” and he glances at the blood seeping into the fabric of his jacket and crisp shirt, and you’re digging through your bag, “I have my hand towel and some—” and he’s shaking his head. 

“I have a sweatshirt I can wear in my bag,” and he’s tugging off his uniform jacket and unbuttoning his shirt, and you can’t look away fast enough — not before seeing the tattoo littering his back. 

A large lion against his back, seemingly roaring, against a backdrop of bamboo, stared back at you, as your breath catches in your throat — he wasn’t just a spoiled heir, he was a real yakuza. And what he did to those men — his eyes met yours again, as he tugged the sweatshirt on, lips still in that ridiculous smile — it was likely the least of what he could really do to them. 

“Oh, sorry, guess I never told ya,” he pulls the orange sweatshirt down, pulling a pair of sunglasses on, and your horrified expression in the circular black rims stare back at you, “sorry for scaring you, sweetheart,” 

“You’re really—” you cut off, heart caught in your throat. Yeah, you had spent too much of your life surrounded by men covered in tattoos, but these two — their auras — were on another level that was simply — terrifying. 

“A yakuza?” he finishes, peering at you over the rim of his sunglasses, “Surprised it took you this long to figure out — thought you had that pieced together a while ago — what? I assume your family shielded you from that kind of violence — probably had guards on you 24/7 so no one would mess with you. Well you aren’t in Osaka anymore,” his fingers intertwined with yours, his larger hand engulfing yours as he tugs you along away from the alley, the faint groans of the men disappearing into the ambient noise of the city, “Stay close, princess.” 

And you flushed, biting your lip. There was a lot you didn’t know, but you knew you better learn — you spare one glance back at the alley — and quick. 

~~~

You both arrive back to the compound, as you’re funneled into a room, you get a glimpse of Suguru in an adjacent hallway, his clothes as bloodied as Satoru’s was, if not more. His dark eyes catch yours and his lips curl, as he holds his hand up as a greeting, mouthing, “Yo,” 

You’re shepherded away to sit, and soon enough, Satoru and Suguru join you, as you fidget in the middle of the room, the three of you sit on cushions, while another cushion directly in front of you. Your fingers can't help but toy with the ribbon on the front of your uniform — what if this was just a ruse to sell you off? Maybe they even found out about you selling your kidney? Anxiety swirled in your mind, dragging down your body to even the tips of your toes, your body buzzing and stinging with thoughts. 

“This really is just a talk to discuss the missing Yakuza heiress,” Suguru cuts through your thoughts, as you stare at him, slack jawed, and he only shrugs, leaning back against his hands flat on the floor, “you’re not hard to read, sweetheart,” 

“Besides, if we wanted to kill you, why not let you die in that alleyway?” Satoru chimes in, ever so helpful, as you glare at him, before his gaze slides to Suguru, “did you take care of that like I asked, Suguru?” and he nods, and before you can ask a question, the door slides open. 

Instead of the heads of the household, a yakuza comes in, sunglasses stare back at you, his dark brown hair slicked back, shaved on the sides of his head, as he stared down at the three of you, “The heads won’t be able to make it to this meeting — something has come up,” 

“Yaga, good to see you,” Suguru chirps, while Satoru only sighs, hands behind his head. 

“Glad to see you haven’t gotten yourself killed since you’ve been away, old man—“ and Satoru earns a fist to his head, “ow!” 

“Keep it up and you’ll get something worse than a whack to the head,” Yaga grumbles, taking his seat, “you must be the girl,” he eyes you up and down, “I’ll get straight to the point — the Akazawa heiress is missing. She’s assumed to be kidnapped,” he hands you a photo of her — shoulder length black hair, her eyes look past the camera, her head tilted downwards, but her hazel eyes pierce through the picture. 

“How long has she been gone?” Suguru asks, “any chance that she just ran off?” 

“There’s a chance she’s been sold off for a couple hundred thou,” Satoru remarks, crossing his arms, “people would pay a premium for a yakuza heiress,” and his eyes slide to you, and you glare back. 

“We don’t know — maybe she ran off, maybe she’s been sold, maybe there’ll be a ransom coming in at one point or another, or maybe she’s dead—” and you bite your lip, “but we can’t take the risk, especially since we have a similar heiress under our care now,” Yaga says, crossing his arms with a hefty sigh, “that being said, you’ll be staying at the compound until further notice— your things have already been brought here,“ you gape at him, mouth nearly hanging open, “and you’ll have Satoru or Suguru with you at all times — their schedules have been rearranged to have class with you,” 

“But—“ and Yaga shoots a look at you that silences your protests. 

“These orders came from the three heads, including your grandfather, would you like to defy them?” And your mouth clamps shut, your head falling. 

“No, sir,” Yaga rises, leaving, but not before ordering the two heirs to show you where you’ll be staying, “and any real threats to you appear, and your classes will be made online and you will remain under guard in the compound,” Yaga adds before disappearing behind another door. 

“It won’t be that bad, Princess,” Suguru grins, as they walk you to your room, “now we can really get to know each other before we’re married,” 

“Don’t you mean before we’re married?” Satoru says, as Suguru only smiles back at him. 

“I would rather not marry you, Satoru, dating you for a week was enough—“ and Satoru opens his mouth to reply. 

“I’m not marrying either of you,” you rub your head, feeling the beginnings of a headache creeping on your temples — you barely could make it through the day with enduring the amount of insanity these two already inflicted, you were sure you’d murder one or both of them if you had to spend 24/7 with them, “we should be keeping a low profile from now on, not going out—” 

“Except for the dates we have planned,” Satoru says, offering you the key to your room, and you unlock the door, stepping inside. 

“Especially not for those.” And you slam the door shut and lock it. 

Your eyes take in the boxes that surround you, full of the things from your apartment, and sigh. 

Fuck, this really was your life now, wasn’t it? 

~~~

“Why are you staring at me?” you can’t ignore Suguru’s stare in the subway, even when you refuse to meet it. The light from the windows flooded into the subway, flickering as the carts sped by, as the two of you hung onto the grab handles. Your usual peaceful ride to university was now impeded by Suguru who stood by your side, his eyes seemingly glued to you. 

“I see that your left side is slower to respond than your right,” and you shift under his gaze, “that’s why your bag is always on your left side, so you can spot a threat easier and have a stronger grip, smart,” 

You raise an eyebrow, “How did you figure that out?” 

He shrugs, “From observation — I also move a little slower on my left — I even blink slower,” and you face him, staring into his eyes, trying to notice any difference between the two eyes. The only thing you could see is how pretty they really were — dark and lidded, not as bright or striking as Satoru’s, but just as mysterious. 

“I can’t tell,” you tilt your head, and he only smiles. 

“There isn’t a difference, but I got you to stare into my eyes, didn’t I?” and you glower at him, your remark cut off by the influx of people flooding into the cart. Fuck, you never had seen it this full before. You forced yourself not to cringe under the tight quarters — you could handle this, it wasn’t a big deal, even as the people sandwiched themselves all around you, anxiety biting at your nerves. And then you’re knocked around by the crowd as the cart jerks, but then, Suguru is pulling you lightly so your back is pressed against a wall and he’s caging you in, his body protecting you. 

Your breath catches — he’s so close, “You don’t have to—” and your gazes meet again, your breath catching, your bag caught between your bodies. He’s nearly pressed against you, the heat from his form seeps into your own. And he smells good, despite the sticky heat of the summer lingering — something musky but sharp at the same time — what was that scent? 

“You seemed uncomfortable,” he says, his hand holding onto the grab handle above, “this seemed like the easiest solution, especially so I can protect you — it would be much easier to shield you with my body this way,” 

“Shut up,” you grumble, as he chuckles, before you’re sighing, “I’m not used to taking the subway — I used to have a car that took me back and forth,” you chew your lip, “I didn’t want you to think I couldn’t take care of myself,” 

“Makes sense to have you driven — as a yakuza heiress, they wanted precautions,” Suguru nods, his eyes sliding around the cart, “you never know,” 

“Is that why your eyes keep scanning the subway cart?” you raise an eyebrow. 

And his lips curl, “I did say I’d protect you with my life, didn’t I?” 

“Did you mean that?”

A chuckle escaped his lips, a noise that makes your breath catch, as the cart jerks again, pressing you both even closer, “I never say anything that I don’t mean, princess.” 

~~~

“Is following me around really necessary even after classes?” you hadn’t bothered to pull your usual disappearing act — it was counterproductive in multiple ways (the first being that either of them would find you and the second being you had to be glued to one of their sides at all times), “it’s not like someone is going jump from the shadows and kidnap me on campus.” 

“You don’t know that for sure, do you, princess?” Satoru drawls lazily, as he twirls his dinner knife around his fingers with a skill that said he’d done it a million times before — probably instead of doing the thing he was supposed to be doing, “a man comes up behind you while you’re studying or shopping, presses a weapon or gun to your side, just out of view, and he’s got the perfect hostage,” 

You raise an eyebrow, “You sound like you’ve done it before,” and the knife stops between his middle finger and pointer, the tip pointed at you, as he looks at you over the rim of his sunglasses. 

“Don’t get jealous, sweetheart, you’re the only girl I’d want to kidnap,” he leans forward and swipes a mochi from your plate — even though he had already ate his own — and you scoff, as you turn your attention back to your neglected dessert, choosing to use your brain cells to focus on your food instead of this psycho. 

“How lucky,” you mutter, as you stab your remaining mochi instead of your escort, “do the two of you have to take shifts like this? I’m surprised the two of you aren’t glued to my sides 24/7 together,” 

“We thought it was only fair the two of us split our time — and as much as I’d like to spend each and every hour with you, we both unfortunately have other responsibilities to tend to,” and he takes a bite of the mochi, “plus, this way, we get to spend time with you alone without the other interfering, and trust me, if I saw you with Suguru,” his lips curl, “I’d interfere,” 

“Well you don’t have to be worried about that, because I don’t plan on being with either one of you,” you reply, “I’m here to finish school and go home as soon as I can,” 

“You won’t be saying that once I make you fall for me,” 

You get to your feet, as you pull out your wallet — but Satoru waves you off, already pulling out his card for the waiter, “You’d have a better chance making me fall for you if you tripped me,” you roll your eyes, as you round the booth, and quick as a light, you trip right into his arms, your body bumping against his chest as his arms steady you. A hand tilts your face up to meet cerulean eyes filled with mirth, “did you trip—” 

And then you spot the chair leg you had tripped over oh-so-gratefully, “I don’t need to resort to those measures to make you fall for me, princess,” his finger traces your jaw with a featherlight touch, “I have plenty of other ways to do that,” 

You get to your feet properly and shove him away, as he chuckled, as you rolled your eyes, “Maybe in your twisted dreams, but—” And Satoru is tugging you away from the booth — a tight arm around you waist, as you stammer, “what the fuck are you—” 

“Guy’s been following you — just spotted him from a distance,” he murmurs, and your shoulders tense, resisting the urge to look back, “just keep walking with me, don’t worry,” his arm gently squeezed you, “won’t let anything happen to you, princess,” 

“Don’t call me that,” you murmur, as he leads you back inside the closest building, “where are we—” and he’s pulling out his phone, texting several people. 

“Getting us a ride in case I need to get you to safety, and letting Suguru know of the situation,” he offers you a small grin, “I could send you back, but that would be that and you will be on lockdown. Things might be getting a little more interesting from here — so it’s your choice, will you stay or go?” 

You considered your choices — you could run away from this, go back to the compound, but going back was a guarantee that you would be stuck 24/7 in the compound and stuck there for the remainder of your time here. And these two would take full advantage of that. Plus, your mind wandered to the girl who had been taken — you wanted to know more about what happened to her and why you were being targeted next. 

“Let’s go,” and his lips curl. The two of you round several street corners, Satoru’s arm remains tight around your waist, as he leads to a more and more secluded corner of the city, “is this the right move?” your hand wanders into your pocket, fingers around your collapsible pole. 

He sighs dramatically, “Do you have such little faith in me, sweetheart?” 

“Considering the two of you are insane, yes, I do,” and he clicks his tongue at you, “where—” 

And someone punches you, fist connecting with your left cheek as you stumble sideways into the wall of a nearby building. You hear the cock of a gun, your eyes catch sight of the weapon pointed at Satoru. You caught a glimpse as your eyes flicker open, several men stand behind him, all bearing weapons of some sort. 

Your ears ring, as you clutch at your head, as you struggle to get your balance, your vision in your left eye blurry from the impact,  “Come with me, and your girlfriend won’t have to watch you die,” you feel something warm run down your nose, and you touch it — scarlet stains your fingers. 

Fuck. 

Your eyes flicker back to where Satoru stands, eyes flickering to you, a shiver running down your spine at his hard gaze — not a hint of euphoria left — his lips a thin line, and his fists clenched, “I’ll fucking kill you,” his words leave in a whispered hiss, and quick as lightning, the gun is knocked from his fingers, and Satoru’s got him pinned down, fist winding back to punch his head in. The other men don’t hesitate to join the fray, just as Satoru doesn’t hesitate to take them down, blood spilling from their bodies as they fall one by one. 

You said you would be stronger — that you wouldn’t let this happen again. You weren’t some person who needed to be sheltered away. Your fingers clutched at the pole in your pocket, pulling it out, as you slowly uncollapsed it — you were a yakuza heir, just as much as these two were. 

One of them got up to shaky feet, lifting up his knife to stab Satoru from behind, “DIE!” and you slam into his side, hitting over the head with the pole — a grisly crack as the pole nearly snaps against his skull. 

“Fuck off and die!” the words leave your lips as you taste your own blood dripping from your nose. And you can feel Satoru turn to see you, eyes wide as he stares —  your words burn as much as your head hurts, as you wipe the blood from your nose. 

And the men are all down now, as Satoru walks over to you, and his fingers reach gently for your face, as he examines the blood dripping, “it’s just a nosebleed,” you say, and his gaze softens ever so slightly, before darkening, as a groan comes from the man that punched you. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” your heart flutters at his gentle touch, the calluses of his fingers against your cheek, as he pulls tissues from his pocket to wipe the blood from your nose. 

And his eyes linger on your face for a moment, before he turns to the culprit, fingers clenched tightly around the napkin soaked in your blood. 

He drags the man up by the collar, shaking him, a gurgled groan leaving his bloody lips, “You might want to go, sweetheart — I have to make sure I let this one die for ever laying a hand on my woman—“ and you clasp your hand on his shoulder, shaking your head. 

“He’s half dead already — you don’t need to finish the job,” and he pouts, shaking the man again for good measure. 

“You said he should die—“ 

You shrug, “People like this aren’t worth the trouble of killing. And you don’t need more problems on your hands — so if you’re doing this for me, don’t bother. Let’s just go,” 

And you see his lips slowly curl into a grin, as he pulls you into a hug, arms around you waist, as he runs his fingers through your hair gingerly, “I didn’t realize you cared, sweetheart,” and you frown, “don’t want me getting in more trouble, huh? If it’s for you, I’ll oblige, but you owe me one,” and his fingers slide under your chin. 

“Oi, is the party over without me?” A familiar voice calls, Suguru walks over, several other Yakuza in tow, his sleeves rolled up, as he takes a once over of the situation, seemingly uninterested in the scum, his eyes falling on you and Satoru, lingering on the blood that still was trickling from your nose. His eyes narrowed, “which one—” 

“It’s already taken care of, Suguru,” Satoru rubs the back of his head, “but for your information,” he kicks the one who had punched you in his side, forcing him to roll over, a slight groan escaping his lips, “that’s the one who hurt her,” 

Suguru nodded, stepping over the bodies as if it was nothing more than a spill that had been yet to be cleaned up, as his hand brushes over your chin softly, drawing close, a sharp gasp leaving your lips when his fingers decide to travel to your nose, “It’s not broken, just bleeding, but I should still get her checked out at the compound,” 

“You?” Satoru furrows his brow, “you’re going to leave me—” 

“To clean up your own mess? Yes, I am,” Suguru smiles, “because it’s my turn to keep watch,” as he shows his watch, already well past midnight, “and I should be getting her back to the compound,” the two glare at each other, a tension settling over the scene that you were far too done with. 

You sigh, stepping past both of them, walking over the bodies splayed out on the floor, “Let me know when you both decide,” you yawn, hands in your pockets now, “I need sleep,” and Suguru follows behind, and you don’t see him turn to smirk at Satoru. 

~~~~

You swore someone was watching you. 

A presence loomed over you, hovering slightly, as you shifted in your sleep, a sigh parting your lips as you turned, still caught between in realms of deep sleep as you drifted in and out, eyes fluttering open a moment, and caught sight of a shadow. 

No, it was nothing. It was nothing. And then you’d wake to sunlight filtering through your windows, eyes fluttering open, but you would still wake with the lingering touch of someone else against your face. 

But each morning you’d check the locks, and it would be locked, with no signs of tampering — and you’d be left wondering if it was a dream or not. 

It had been like this for the last week — you’d sense a presence, for a split second of what you thought was consciousness, and then it would be morning again. 

And finally, you decided to stay awake, a knife you had pilfered away from the kitchen under your pillow. You let your eyes drift shut, drifting in and out of a half sleep, until you hear it. 

The slow slide of the door opening, and the soft close of the door behind. The person takes nearly soundless steps towards you, before leaning above you and you feel the faint brush of hair against your skin, before leaning back with a quiet sigh. 

Suguru?

And his fingers slide through your hair softly. He watches over you, quietly, until you turn to face him, eyes open. 

“You know it’s really creepy to break into a woman’s room in the middle of the night,” and Suguru blinks, before his lips curl in a small smirk, “and it’s even weirder when you just sit there to watch her sleep,” 

“Just trying to make sure you’re safe, sweetheart,” 

“In a locked room?” And he shrugs. 

“I broke in easily,” and you scoff, as he rakes his own fingers through his hair, “who else would keep an eye on you?” 

You sit up, crossing your arms, “Surprised you and Satoru aren’t in here,” 

“We take turns,” and you stare at him, as he leans back against the wall, “all we do is keep watch princess — would you have let us in otherwise?” 

You open and shut your mouth, before you find words again amidst the haze of frustration, “I’m not so fucking helpless that you both need to sit here and watch me sleep,”

“We have been doing this since the threats began nearly and you only noticed recently,” he points out, his eyes catching the faint light of the moon, as cautious and patient as Suguru was — his expression as indiscernible as a new moon was, “and it’s only because Satoru had gotten sloppy,” he shrugs. 

You rub at your temples, “you’re not the only one who is a yakuza—“ 

Suguru tilts his head, “Princess, you don’t know what it means to be one — not even your fingers have never been bloodied, and it should stay that way—“ 

Your fingers close around the handle of the knife as you lunge at him — you snapped. You were tired — tired of the men in your life running your life — your grandfather, these yakuza heads, and these two idiots — all of them treating you as if you were spineless. 

And you weren’t. 

His hand darts out — and it happens quickly. The knife clatters against the hardwood, and he’s pinned you underneath him. 

You glare, embarrassment licks at your cheeks like flames — you had placed your fingers on the stovetop and what were you expecting other than to get burned? You can’t meet his gaze, and you’re expecting another lecture or sanctimonious attitude, but instead, his fingers skim your cheek, “You should pick your battles wisely, sweetheart — because not all of them will let you off the hook,” and he leans close, breath warming your lips, as your eyes can’t help but squeeze shut. 

Only to wince after a sharp flick to your forehead. 

And his weight leaves you at once, your head turning to find him examining the knife you had stolen, “You should also choose a better weapon than a kitchen knife — especially one as dull as this one,” 

You scowl at him, “Well, how else will I defend myself?” 

And he smiles, shrugging, “Isn’t it simple? Use the weapons already at your disposal,” 

Your brow knots together, “What weapons?” And his hand is sliding the door open, as he casts one more glance over his shoulder, lips curled in that insufferable smile. 

“The ones sworn to you.” 

~~~~ 

“You’re staying home tomorrow from class,” the thermometer is plucked from between your lips, the white haired yakuza scrutinizing your room, cerulean eyes catching the pile of tissues you had failed to stuff properly in your trash bin, “how long have you had this, Princess?” 

You lay bedridden and pouting as you draw the covers over your face — you had not been feeling well this whole weekend, but you developed a fever last night. You thought it would be gone by the morning, “Just since this morning,” and he’s tugging the covers away, his brow wrinkled, and then you see it, bandages on his forehead, “when did you get hit on the head?” 

And he blink, fingers running through his hair, “This? It’s nothing,” and you raise an eyebrow, “if you must know, it’s just my punishment for taking you into the thick of things the other day,” 

Your brow wrinkles, “Who—“ 

He waves you off, “It’s not important — the important thing is that you get better — can’t have my future wife succumbing to the flu, now can I?” And you scoff. 

“I’m not your future wife,” you mumble, and you hear a small chuckle from him. And then your muscles begin to grow heavy, eyelids fluttering shut under the weight of exhaustion, and your skin feeling far too cold for your burning insides, “Gojo, I’m not—“ 

And you slip into darkness. 

You can feel the world around you move, the sounds of wind brushing against your skin, and the flicker of lights in your eyes. Your lips part, a desert inside your mouth with no oasis in sight, “where—“

A voice quietly shushes you, fingers raking through your hair gently, lulling you back to sleep. Was it your grandfather? No, he never coddled you like this. Not even he had his yakuza to look after. You were expected to care for yourself —- you couldn’t show weakness. 

Not as an heir — even if you were just a kid. 

And when you do wake for a moment, it’s with some prodding, a voice whispering for you to open your mouth at the press of a medicine cap to your lips, and your eyes flutter open to catch a glimpse of blue eyes — so you do, swallowing it with water. 

You fall into the arms of sleep again, only waking to your head slightly aching, and a distinct void in your stomach. You reach around blindly for your phone, and find that it’s still Sunday, nearly the evening. Your eyes adjust as your gaze spots the last glimmers of the sunset in the window. 

How long have you slept? Like four hours? You sighed, slumping back into bed, as you stretched. Your fingers pressed to your forehead, still a slight fever, but it was definitely lower. Maybe you could sleep for a bit longer, and you turn on your side only to find a familiar, not-so familiar sight. Your lips can’t help but curl a little. Again there is someone in your room, but instead as your eyes flutter open you see that Satoru has dozed off.

You hold back a chuckle, as you slowly get up, drawing a little closer. His head was against the wall, slightly tilted, soft breaths leaving his lips, arms crossed. He had a prescription medicine next to him along with a water bottle. Your fingers reach for the medicine, and you glance it over — seeing that it was prescribed earlier today for you. 

Your brows knit together, when did you—and then it comes back to you slowly — the lights, the sound of wind and cars — he drove you to a hospital. And his shoulder starts to slip 

And then you reach for him, trying to make sure he didn’t hurt himself. 

That’s when he grabs you — his eyes fly open, as he grabs you by the wrist, pulling you close, his hard topaz gaze cuts through you, until it slowly fills with recognition. His fingers digging into your wrist loosen ever so slightly, as he blinks. 

“Sorry about that, sweetheart,” but his fingers don’t leave your wrist, “are you feeling better?” 

“I am,” you admit, as his other hand reaches up to brush against your forehead and then neck, sending hest crawling up your skin for a different reason. 

“Looks like the medicine worked,” he sighs, leaning back, “guess I can scratch beating up that doctor off my list,” and you furrow your brow, “it was a joke, Princess,” 

“Why did you take me?” You asked and he tilted his head, “I mean you could have had me looked at here, so why did you—“ 

“As much as my father pays for these services, they don’t work weekends, usually — we do have an on-call physician, but,” he shrugs, as his thumb brushed back and forth against your wrist, right where your pulse was, “I didn’t want to wait,” 

And your eyes slide to the bandages around his head, “but you couldn’t get that checked out?” 

“Worried about me? I’m touched, Princess,” and your fingers reach for the bandages and brush against his locks, “hey, you—“ 

“It’s coming loose,” you lean over and slide your hands until you find where it’s coming undone and tie it tighter, fingers brushing against his soft locks — noting the undercut you hadn’t noticed before, “there,” 

“Thank you,” he murmurs, as your eyes meet his and your breath catches, your face an inch or two from his. And he looks different in the dark of the room, illuminated by the last vestiges of sun that were quickly fading into the night — softer. 

“Why did you take care of me?” And he blinks a moment, taken aback and he tilts his head, “someone else could have—“ 

“I wanted to,” he cuts you off gently, “why would I let someone else do it when I could? It was the least I could do,” and it was your turn to tilt your head, as he adds in a whisper, “I let you get hurt. I should have sent you home,” 

“If you had tried, I would have stayed anyway,” and he chuckles. 

“I know,” he murmurs, “and I know what it’s like to tough through things as if you’re invincible — as if nothing can touch you — and it’s only a matter of time until it does,” and your fingers brush against the bandages on his head, as you dare closer, less than a breath away. 

“Maybe I should make you take your own advice,” you whisper, and his lips quirk upwards in a smirk. 

“I’d love to see you try, Princess,” he adds with a grin, “you know I’d love to submit to you anyti—“ 

And you swallow the rest of his sentence with your lips, a chaste brush that leaves your entire body burning for more — a spark to kindling that you told yourself you wouldn’t start. But, your lips part his to see his soft gaze meeting your own, before finding your lips again, how could you not? 

“I’m going to get you sick,” you manage between kisses, lips meeting and parting, as he chuckles against you, a vibration sending a shiver that definitely wasn’t from your fever.

“You’re worth it, Princess,” but he kisses you one last time, noses brushing, before your stomach rumbles loudly in the relative silence of both of your soft pants. You flush, and he can’t hold back his laugh, as you smack his shoulder.  

“Shut up, I haven’t eaten since breakfast, thanks to someone,” and he’s still laughing as you try to smack him again, but he catches you by the wrist. 

“Don’t forget, I really like it when you punish me,” his lips press to your wrist, your breath catching for a moment before you hit him again on the chest regardless. And he laughs, leaning on his hand, “oh what will I do with you, sweetheart?” 

You scowl at him, rolling your eyes, “You can start by getting me dinner,” you grumble, and he repents, getting to his feet, “Satoru?” And he pauses, eyes flickering back, “thank you,” you manage, biting your lip all the whole, unable to meet his eyes or see the smile on his lips. 

“Anytime, Princess.” 

~~~~

You hadn’t seen Suguru or Satoru all week. 

Once a sought after rarity l, but now a foreboding concern. Satoru had been away on business — you didn’t care to know what, but you knew he’d come back only more clingy than ever. You chewed on your lip — especially after the kiss. 

Fuck. You kissed Satoru, you buried your face in your hands, what the fuck were you doing? Could you use the excuse that your fever had rendered you momentarily insane? No, Satoru would only crack a joke saying that he’s crazy for you too. 

What was your plan? You were only trying to bide your time for a year — not become further entangled 

You lay back on your bed, as you scroll through your phone — but Suguru was a different story. You heard from Satoru that he had returned. Yet now there was some random yakuza checking in each hour  — and even worse, keeping you confined to the compound. 

And a small part of you did worry for them as you tossed your phone aside — those fools may have death wishes but that didn’t mean you wished the same. 

You leave your room, sighing as you explore the compound. You had done your fair share of exploring, but you had never wandered into Suguru or Satoru’s quarters. You had been told by each of them where their rooms were, only for you to glare at them for providing you the implication. But now…maybe it was useful. 

You walked through the halls — seemed like most people were away at the moment. When Satoru had captured those people who had attacked you both, there was information learned about who was targeting you and of where that girl who was taken could possibly be. But it’s not like you were able to find that information out — unless you went looking yourself. 

Satoru and Suguru’s rooms were close to each other’s — but Satoru’s room was locked, as you tugged at the door to no avail. You glared at the handle as if it was the white haired idiot itself, before turning to Suguru’s door. 

You pressed your ear to the door, it was silent, not a single noise inside. You pull at the door and it opens. You step inside — the room is neat, a desk in the corner, along with a bed on the opposite side, but not much else. There were a few other things — a dresser with a few containers tucked beside it and a small bookcase against the wall near the desk lined with books on each shelf. 

It wasn’t what you expected — though you didn’t know what to expect. You stepped into the room, glancing around, as you approached the desk first. You rifle through the papers, finding nothing relevant — only papers from class and a few scattered notes that had nothing but addresses and initials scribbled. 

And then the door opens, you freeze, before you slowly turn to see Suguru, his clothes tattered, blood dripping from his arms and soaked through his white button up. His gaze is dark and heavy, until he finds your eyes, his brow wrinkled. 

“What are you doing?” no ‘sweetheart’ or ‘Princess’ — just a question. 

“I was looking—“ but you bite your lips, as you watch his shoulders slump, “what happened—“ 

And he draws closer, as you slowly take steps back, until he’s looming over you, his arm pressed above you, “Princess, you shouldn’t get involved in these things, unless you want to end up like this,” and the smell of death rolls off of him, the heaviness of his gaze could drag you down to the depths of hell — but you didn’t care. 

“Sit down,” and he blinks, before you’re pressing him onto the bed, “I’m going to get a first aid kit and some bandages,” 

“Sweetheart—“ but you’re already out of the room, returning with a first aid kit and bandages, “where did you—“ 

“Well after that first time Satoru and I got jumped by those people, I figured it would be good to stock up on things,” you pull out scissors and tape, and you dampen a washcloth you had stored in the kit with a water bottle you had grabbed. “Take off your shirt,” he hesitates, “getting shy?” 

Suguru’s lips curl, before he sighs, unbuttoning his shirt, “You know I rather you hurt me than take care of me,” and you scoff, as you busy yourself with preparing the materials to tend to him. 

“Well it looks like someone else already did that for you,” and your eyes meet with his bare chest, the red and black ink of his tattoos encroached onto his shoulders, but more than that — bruises bloomed on different parts of his body, scars from old wounds of various ages littered his skin, and dried and fresh scarlet clung to his skin from fresh cuts. 

You take the washcloth, slowly starting to run it over his body, the white cloth marred with his blood, he doesn’t flinch even as it cleans his cuts or wounds.  

“Why are you doing this?” And your eyes meet his, his amethyst eyes cut through you. 

“Because you’re hurt,” 

“Just because I’m hurt doesn’t mean you have to help,” you sigh, as you urge him to turn so you can clean his back next, the sight of his tattoo on his back unsurprising now as you continue to clean it. 

“Doesn’t mean you don’t have to either,” he gives a soft chuckle, “what’s your goal here sweetheart?” You urge him to turn again, as you begin to clean the blood from his arms. 

“Do I need to have a goal?” And he turns to face you, leaning even closer, as his black locks fall in his eyes. 

“Everyone has one — didn’t you have one for coming in here?” And your hesitation is all the answers he needs, “curious about what’s going on with those people after you, huh?” 

There wasn’t any use lying now, “Wouldn’t you be?” 

“I would be, but I wouldn’t get caught, now would I?” and you scoff, as his lips curl, “we have been tracking the group that we suspect has the heiress, and we have been interrogating the people that you and Satoru secured,” ‘secured’ — more like nearly murdered by the way Satoru acted. 

“And where were you?” 

He sighed, “Dealing with some loose ends — and some other business that my father had me deal with,” and he adds, “I had to make sure a message got out — so no one would ever attack you like that again,”

And why does your heart squeeze at the thought, “Why are you so willing to tell me?” And your hands begin to clean and wipe his palms. And you set the washcloth down, beginning to bandage some of the larger cuts and wounds, and his fingers intertwined with yours, as you glance up. 

“Because you deserve the truth,” he shrugs, “and even if I lie, you’ll figure it out, so why not tell you to begin with?” And he leans even closer, fingers skimming your cheek, “plus I don’t keep secrets from my future wife,” 

“I’m not marrying you,” but you don’t pull away, as he’s even closer now. 

“Well, you said never before — and I’ve worn you down to a ‘not’ — it’s only a matter of time,” and his words make you want you to pull away, to scoff at his words and leave, but you don’t. 

Why can’t you? 

“And I thought Satoru was the one full of himself—“ and his lips find yours, his kiss was more insistent, his fingers find your jaw, featherlight before it finds purchase on the back of your neck. You could taste the faint taste of blood, lingering on his lips, 

“And you also thought Satoru was a good kisser,” he smirks, as his lips ghost down your jaw, nose brushing against your cheek, as you pause — how did he— “well now you know what a good kisser is actually like,” 

Your eyebrows knit together, “Geto—” 

“Suguru,” he corrects you, he tilts his head, his thumb cupping your chin, and your lips find the other’s, his forehead pressed to yours. Then his phone rings, and the moment’s broken. He pulls away just as fast, as he turns to answer his phone, “Hello?” he listens, a man’s voice on the other end, “I understand, okay.” and the call ends, as he offers a smile to you, “I have to deal with some business, but I’ll be back later. And then it looks like I’ll be your escort while Satoru is away.” 

“What business—” but he’s brushing past you, going to his wardrobe to grab a fresh shirt, buttoning it swiftly, before pulling on another jacket, as he turns to glance at you over his shoulder. 

“You know better than to ask me that,”

“But you said you would be honest,” and he shrugs his shoulders, a smirk on his lips, as he heads out of the room. 

“I didn’t say when.” 

~~~~

“We have to tell her,” Satoru stood, hands in his pockets, leaning against the wall of the compound. Suguru clicks his lighter again, flicking it on and off — he had quit a few months ago when you had told him that you hated the smell. And he didn’t miss it, but he still carried the lighter — old habits die hard, “the pictures we got — they are getting better at tracking her without us noticing. And these other fires we’re being sent out to deal with — it’s leaving us with less time to protect her,”

“Do you have to?” Suguru asked, flicking his lighter closer, the silver outside glinting in the low light of the moon, “isn’t it safer for her to stay in the dark for now?” 

“Staying in the dark doesn’t mean she won’t put herself in danger one way or another without us knowing,” Satoru shrugs, “she said even if I had sent her home that day that those men were after her, she would have came after me,” 

Suguru gives a terse chuckle, “I don’t doubt that she would,” he sighs, gaze towards the inky darkness of the sky, dotted with faint stars that he couldn’t see but knew were there — just as these threats were, “if she found out that her grandfather was threatened too? There’s no way she would wait,” 

“So what do we do?” Satoru scratched the back of his head, “we could send her back home — she might be safer there than here,” 

“Her grandfather told us—“ 

“I know, but what choice do we have, Suguru?” he sighs, and Suguru can’t help but quirk his lips. 

“You know if we do this, we may have to fight her grandfather to stay engaged with her,” And Satoru smiles, shrugging. 

“I know, but we can handle it, can’t we?” Satoru leans back, “we’ll just have to fight him on it. Why? Are you afraid?”  

Suguru gives a short chuckle, “Since when have you known me to be afraid of anything?” And he turns his gaze towards the door, “so when should we tell her?” 

But they don’t notice that you’re pressed against the door, your fists clenched. And they were right about one thing — you wouldn’t wait. 

~~~~

CRACK! 

Fuck, your eyes burned as you tried to open them, the sharp pain in the back of your head radiating all over, as your eyelids refused to open. What happened? You tried to hold your head, only to have your wrists strain against something rough — rope? The fibers dig into your wrists as you try to stand, only to find them bound to something else. 

“Finally awake?” it was a woman’s voice — and your eyes still can’t quite open — fuck, this wasn’t part of your plan, “take your time, they said they wanted you in pristine condition so I can’t have you falling apart on me later on,” she scoffs, her footsteps receding away, and you could hear the quiet murmurs of other voices — men, by the baritone. 

Your eyes burned as you adjusted to opening them, still fighting the urge to flutter them shut under the pain. The dim light swung overhead, a warehouse from the bare floors and even barer walls and ceilings overhead, barely illuminated in the flickering exposed lightbulbs hanging over the middle of the room. 

“Where am I?” You choked out, voice wavering in a way that made you want to grit your teeth and chide yourself for the fear that seeped into your words. 

The quiet click of heels came closer, “Don’t recognize me? Well I suppose you never did see my face in person,” and you knit your brows together as she stepped closer, leaning in far too near for your comfort, “I should thank you for your efforts in trying to find out what happened to me. It made it far easier to kidnap you,” 

Her hazel eyes were even more startling in person. 

“The Akawaza heiress,” you stare at her — her hair had grown a little past her shoulders now, ends slightly curling at them, “I thought—“ 

“I was missing? I was,” her lips curled, running her sharp lacquered nails through her black locks, “but it was my choice,” the screech of chair legs scraping against the floor makes you flinch ever so slightly, as she sits in front of you, her legs crossed, “I’m being rude — how is your grandfather?” 

“Fuck off,” you spit, and she clicks her tongue. 

“And here I thought you had manners, but I suppose the city’s changed you, little princess?” she hums, leaning back, wood of the chair creaking as she did, “or maybe your boyfriends did,” you say nothing, scoffing, as she sighs, “or knowing your grandfather, you probably didn’t have any to begin with,” 

Rage fills your veins, lava bursting from them as the venom leaves your lips, “Don’t talk about my grandfather like that—” 

“Why shouldn’t I? You never cared for the yakuza before, right? Is your grandfather not included in that equation? Or maybe it was because he kept what he did behind closed doors, and never bothered to tell you the truth,” and you’re not fast enough to stop your brow from furrowing, and she latches onto it, “Oh he didn’t tell you, did he?” 

“You really love the sound of your own voice, don’t you?” you murmur, and she laughs at your remark, her nails clicking against the forearm of the chair — lacquer on wood that began to grate on your nerves, “can you get to the point of all this shit? Why the fuck am I here?” 

“Because your grandfather is picking and choosing who he favors — and so I decided to take his heart, and I’ll only give her back if he gives me what I want — ” and then you see the way her lips curl and her jaw is cut, and it occurs to you. 

Your grandfather had said he was a heartbreaker. 

“You’re his granddaughter,” and she smirks, her nails falling still. 

“Do you see the family resemblance?” she leans against her hand, elbow against the arm of her chair, “it would be nice to meet you — if I didn’t have to possibly kill you,” 

“So you want to be the heiress? I never wanted to be one in the first place—” 

“Do you think that matters?” she scoffs, “what matters is the choice your grandfather makes —  and he’s chosen you — with no regard for the other children he has had,” her gaze falls downward, “do you know what it is like to watch your mother vye for the approval of someone who never truly cared for her in the first place?” 

Your gaze falls downward, “I don’t know,” you admit, “but is all this worth this? What do you think he will even do for me?” 

“He’ll meet my demands, and each hour he doesn’t, he’ll get another finger of yours,” she pulls a knife out, the blade glinting in the dim light, as she rises to her feet, your body straining back as she draws close to you, running the flat of the blade down your cheek, “should I start with your left hand or right?” she pulls the blade back, and you smile, “what—” 

And you lean your head back and smash your head against her own. The crack of your skulls colliding rung in your ears, along with the knife clattering to the ground, as you felt warm droplets ran down your face, and she stumbles back, clutching at her forehead, scarlet staining her face and fingers, “It’s funny you think that I came to you without a plan — how do you think I found you?” 

“It wasn’t on her own,” and a hand on her shoulder, before she’s pinned to the floor. Satoru’s eyes slide to you, a smile on his lips, as she’s struggling, trying to look for her men, “looking for your goons? Suguru has taken care of them by now, unless he needs my help,” 

“Akari isn’t the only one who likes to hear herself talk,” Suguru runs his fingers through his hair, “Satoru, you haven’t even untied her,” his footsteps echoing as he approaches you, bending down to pick up Akari’s knife. 

“A little busy at the moment, Suguru,” Gojo has Akari pinned with one hand, “unless you’d like her to get away,” and Suguru shrugs, as he slips the knife under your restraints and cuts them off, “are you doing alright, sweetheart?” 

“I’m fine, just my head’s aching,” and Suguru pulls a cloth from his pocket, wiping the blood from your face, your eyes closing and nose wrinkling as he does, “did you call my grandfather?” 

“Yeah, I don’t have a death wish,” Satoru replies as he hauls Akari up and hands her off to his associate to take her. 

You get to shaky feet, “Hold on,” you walk over, grabbing Akari by the front of her blouse, silk wrinkling under your grasp, “fuck with me or my family again, and I won’t be so lenient,” you shove her off, and then you add, “but I’ll talk to my grandfather about some sort of possible arrangement for your mother,” 

And then you wave the yakuza off and they take her away — assuredly to Kyoto to be dealt with by her grandfather. 

“Are you really going to talk to your grandfather about her?” Suguru asks, raising an eyebrow. 

“It’s the least he could do since he caused me to be targeted,” you grumble, rubbing your wrists, as Satoru takes his suit coat off and places it around your shoulders, before a smirk pulls at your lips. 

Suguru tilts his head, smiling, “Well, how would he feel if he knew you got kidnapped on purpose?” And you shrug. 

“He doesn’t need to know that.” 

~~~

“I’m surprised you guys agreed to my plan,” you hiss as Satoru takes a damp cloth to clean the dried blood from your face, while Suguru is knelt, bandaging your ankles — their rough and bruised hands somehow still gentle, “I thought you would never let me wander into danger,” 

“Well, we knew we had to do something when we realized you were listening to us, didn’t we, Princess?” Satoru snorted, and you could hear the smile gracing his features — even with your eyes shut — “and this was the best way to ensure you weren’t hurt,” 

“Relatively,” Suguru adds, as he finishes bandaging one ankle, “did she do anything else to you?” 

And Satoru’s hand pauses as they both wait for your answer, and you shake your head, “No,” and Satoru pulls the washcloth away, your eyes fluttering open to meet two skeptical gazes, “really, I’m fine,” your lips curl after the two of them look away, Satoru turning to grab a bag of ice for your forehead, while Suguru busied himself with bandaging your other ankle, “is this threat the reason my grandfather sent me to Tokyo?” 

The timing had lined up — Akari had started the threats not a few months before — after she had reached legal age, the perfect age to contend for the position of successor to her grandfather. And by sending you here, your grandfather thought he was putting you out of immediate danger — but he didn’t know Akari would make her way to Tokyo. 

“More or less,” Satoru sighed, as you flinched when he pressed the ice pack to your head, the condensation from the bag already clinging and dripping down your face, “the geezer wanted to find the source of the threats against you—and by sending you here, to your potential fiancés—“ 

“I would be safe protected twofold by two of the biggest families—“ and you blink, pulling the ice pack away from your face, “the engagements — that’s why they were leaked — it was to protect me,” you mumble, “so that means—“ 

“You can go home if you want, Princess,” Suguru says, looking up at you, expression as inscrutable as it always was, “the engagements were only pretense,” 

“You both knew?” And Satoru sighs, scratching the back of his head, and why does it feel as if his nails are carving out a piece of your heart. 

“The old coot swore us to secrecy, we didn’t have—“ 

“But, everything, the two of you…the engagement—it’s over,” you say slowly, gaze falling downward. You should be happy, relieved, thrilled — you could go home, what you wanted to do from the start. You could get your own apartment or transfer to a different university—and leave this behind, a bad dream washed away by the events of a new day. So why? 

Why did it hurt? 

“Don’t tell me you’ll actually miss us, sweetheart?” Satoru teased, a force more than anything — bittersweet worded coated in a sugary sarcasm, “because I very well may propose here and now,” 

You almost scoff, but Suguru beats you to it. 

“A proposal now? Seems like finishing early isn’t what you just do in bed, Satoru,” Suguru scoffs, as Satoru shoots a glare over his sunglasses, “she’s only eager to get home now isn’t she? "If she isn’t so eager,” he adds, “then she would stop the one she wants from leaving her room, wouldn’t she?” 

And Suguru is slowly getting to his feet, while Satoru also turns to leave — and you don’t think—but you were sure that you truly hadn’t thought a single sane thought since you had arrived in Tokyo—

You grab at the fabric of both their shirts, fingers clutching at it, as your lips curled when they glanced back at you. 

“Who said either of you could leave?”

~~~

“You’re going to have to use your words,” you murmured, fingers ghosting Satoru’s jaw, a delightful shiver parting his lips as you smiled at him, sat spread at the edge of your bed, “what do you want?” You stepped closer, between his legs, daring even closer. 

“Sweetheart, you know what I—“ and a low groan leaves his throat as your fingers slide to the nape of his neck to tug at his snowy locks, “please—“ 

“I know you love this,” you murmur, leaning to press a kiss to his throat, smiling against his skin, “you said you wanted me to hurt you, so it looks like you’re getting your wish,” your eyes slide to the other, sat in a chair, “I know you like to watch, Suguru, so you must be enjoying yourself,” and you’re further unbuttoning Satoru’s shirt all the same — crisp white button up definitely creased and wrinkled as it fell open, tugged out from his slacks. 

Suguru’s fingers flexed against the grain of the wood of the armrests, his muscles taut, his lips a tight line that only matched the fabric of his slacks straining against his erection. The corner of his mouth twitches, and you smirk. 

��I didn’t hear an answer, Suguru,” and you’re placing another kiss on Satoru’s neck, a whine leaving his throat, while your eyes find Suguru’s amethyst gaze darkened to nearly black, his knuckles white against the wood, as you lean down to lick a stripe up Satoru’s neck, who bites his bottom lip. 

“I’d enjoy it even more if I could touch you, or me,” Suguru adds through gritted teeth, “Princess—“ 

And you click your tongue, “You had such patience when you were watching me sleep — so where’s that patience now?” Your fingers graze Satoru’s erection through his slacks, and his head is falling back, as Suguru shifts in his seat, not so subtly adjusting himself. 

You undo Satoru’s belt, unbuckling it with ease, as his cock slaps against his stomach, and you didn’t know it was possible for a dick to be pretty, but Satoru’s was — a deep flush settled over it, pearly beads of precum dripping from the ruby tip. And a distinct heat begins to throb between your thighs. 

“You can touch yourself,” you tell Suguru, his legs twitching to get up, “but you can’t cum until I tell you can,” you run a finger up Satoru’s cock, teasing the weeping tip, a groan leaving the snowy haired man’s lips, “strip, Suguru,” 

And he does, you hear the click of his belt, the sound of fabric rustling, as your fingers tease the slit of Satoru’s cock, gathering precum on your fingers, drawing a grunt from his lips. You can hear the distinct sound of Suguru spitting in his palm, his hand beginning to work at his own cock. 

“Both s’good for me,” you murmur, as you stroke Satoru’s cock in earnest, the quiet moans from both their mouths sending a ribbon of need to your already dripping cunt, “can’t wait to fuck you both, make you my toys,” and you’re pressing a kiss to Satoru’s tip, his pretty, pink lips parting, as his head rolls back again, “but you’d both like that wouldn’t you? Maybe I shouldn’t let either of you cum, make you beg me all night,” as your tongue traces his lovely vein up the side of his cock, “what do you think, Toru?” And your mouth finally closes around his dick, sucking hard that draws a hiss from his lips, fingers fisted in the sheets. 

And Suguru isn’t doing much better, the sounds of his hand squelching and the moans leaving his lips growing louder and louder. 

“Please, Princess, I’m close, I can’t—“ and you click your tongue, a pout on your lips, as you pull away your touch, “baby, I—“ 

“Can’t let either of you cum so fast,” your eyes slide to Suguru, his cheeks flushed a lovely pink that reaches even his ears, as his hand slows, his cock twitching in his fingers, “gotta make you earn it. It’s only right after all the shit you put me through right?” 

It’s a cycle, a cycle of you bringing them both to the edge of orgasm, only to tell them to stop. Their sweat slicked brows wrinkled, as you worked them up once again and again and again — you had lost track of how many times. 

“Please, please, sweetheart,” and you knew you could get Satoru to beg, but you didn’t think it would be this easy, and you let his dick brush against your throat, as you let him fuck your throat, hips jerking, “fuuuuck, I need to—” 

And you’re pulling your lips from his cock with a pop, glancing at Suguru whose black locks are beginning to come loose from their neat bun, more of a mess now than he had been fighting yakuza earlier, and all because of you. 

“Suguru? Wanna cum?” you ask, smirking as his gaze raises to meet yours, a desperate look that tells you everything you need to know, “be a good boy and tell me,” 

He swallows, adam’s apple bobbing, as pre drips down his knuckles, “fuck, Princess,” he’s shaking his head, “ I want to cum, please — I need—” 

And your lips curl, “cum for me,” you murmur before you’re wrapping your lips around Satoru again, his tip brushing against your throat, sucking hard, his fingers finding purchase in your hair. And he’s cumming hard, his hot release slides down your throat, nails digging into your scalp, nearly never ending — even as you pull away, his cum paints your face and lips, and drips onto your clothes. His cerulean eyes glazed as he looked down at you between his legs, a string of spit and cum connecting you to his cock. 

And Suguru was no better. He had cum hard all over his hand and the floor, his cock still somehow half hard, his body slumped back in the chair, as his chest heaved. His hair tie had long fallen away, his long black locks brushing against his shoulders. 

You lick your lips clean of Satoru’s cum, wiping the rest away with the back of your hand, “Made such a mess,” you tsk, as you get to your feet, slipping off your shorts and shirt, before leaning down to kiss Satoru, and he’s still sensitive by the way he jolts against your touch, before melting into it, his tongue parted your lips with ease. And fuck, you hoped he couldn’t see how wet you were — nearly dripping down your thighs at this point. 

And you’re pulling away, your thumb dragging down his lips, as his teeth try to catch the finger between them, but you’re too quick. You turn, a smile on your lips, you make your way over to Suguru. 

You’re wiping up the mess on the floor with your shirt before kneeling, “made such a mess, Sugu,” and he’s staring at you through half lidded eyes, his fingers brushing your cheek, “did I say you could touch me?” 

“You never said I couldn’t,” he murmurs, and god, his voice is far gone, raw and nearly guttural, as his fingers found purchase in your hair, “and I think I earned it after your little performance—“ and he hisses when you lean in, tip of your tongue teasing his slit and licking the dripping cum off his half hard cock, “fuck—“ 

“Not yet,” you smiled, as you started to lick his cock clean of his cum, “but maybe if you’re good,” he grunts as you sink is cock into your mouth, tongue swirling around his length, licking and sucking — and fuck, he was already twitching in your mouth. 

And then he’s easing you off his dick with a tug of your hair, and you’re glancing up at him, a question on the tip of your tongue, but he’s swallowing it with a kiss, as his hands slip down your body to haul you nearly into his lap. Calloused palms find their way to your hips, squeezing lightly, as he pulls away, cupping your chin with his thumb. 

“Suguru—” and you yelp as he picks you up with ease, placing you in Satoru’s lap whose hands wind their way around your waist, his fingers already beginning to tease your hardened buds through your bra, a gasp leaving your lips, as Suguru placed his on your neck with a smirk as he murmurs:

 “Let me show you how good we can be, sweetheart.” 

~~~~

“Tell us what you want, princess,” Satoru murmured in your ear, his warm breath doing nothing to help the needy heat between your thighs, the one that Suguru was knelt between, his large palms spreading you before him, “is she as wet as I think, Suguru?” 

And Suguru catches your gaze, a wicked smile on his lips as he replies, “Wetter, she’s a mess, aren’t you?” you bite your lip to stop a whimper from leaving your lips as his fingers graze the growing wet patch on your panties. And your squirming only makes Satoru grunt, his erection pressed against you, the friction doing little to help either of you. 

“Fuckers,” and Satoru clicks his tongue, a smile on his lips as he turns your head. 

“Think I have a better use for that mouth of yours, sweetheart,” and his lips find yours, right as Suguru toys with the elastic of your panties, snapping it against your skin, Satoru swallows the small noise that escapes your lips, his tongue slipping into your mouth as it does. 

And god, you already can’t even think straight. 

Satoru’s fingers are pushing up your bra, teasing your nipples, as Suguru pressing a kiss to your dripping cunt through your soaked underwear. 

“So pretty,” Suguru murmurs, and Satoru’s lips part from yours, gaze darkening as he drags his thumb down your kiss ruined lips, and he tugs your drenched panties down, “and your cunt is even prettier, isn’t it princess?” 

And you were — your gorgeous pussy was glossy with your pre, dripping all over his fingers when he parts your messy folds, “Bet she’s even tighter, isn’t she?” Satoru murmurs, as his dick twitches against your ass, “

You whine as his words warm your aching pussy, your eyes flickering downwards, as Suguru’s lips graze your inner thigh, and you already know Satoru’s pouting. 

“You’re taking your goddamn time, Suguru, when do I get my chance?” He grumbles, nose brushing against your neck, as you can’t help but chuckle. 

“You got your turn, and now it’s time for you to watch,” and your giggle turns to a soft gasp when his lips press a kiss to your clit, “and sweetheart, can’t wait to see how you’ll punish me for this later — because I’m not stopping until you beg me to,”

Your lips part with a reply, but he pulls a moan from your lips instead as his tongue drags up the length of your weeping entrance. God, fuck, how did you taste this good? His tongue flicked against your puffy clit, drawing lazy circles, your slick already drenching his chin and lips. 

“So fucking good, baby, s’good f’me,” and your fingers are threading their way into his dark locks, pulling him even closer, his lips closing around your clit to suck, “could live in this pretty cunt,” he grunts, the tip of his tongue teasing your entrance. 

Your head falls against Satoru’s shoulders, a groan fell from his lips as his cock dragged against your ass, your slick drenching his thighs and cock alike, “can’t wait to sink my cock into you, fuck,” Satoru murmurs, the wet squelch of your cunt rang in his ears, and he could imagine how wet and warm you’d be once he sunk into you, inch by inch. 

And he couldn’t wait — he needed to do something. 

Satoru’s fingers found their way down your body, tweaking your nipple before one large palm dragged slowly down your front, until he found your clit right above Suguru’s face. 

“Toru,” you gasp, as his fingers pinch your clit and Suguru glares, pulling his lips away for a moment, only to sink a finger back in insteas, drawing a moan from your lips, “Sugu—fuck—“ 

And it’s too much, one more touch and you’re cumming, body falling back into Satoru, as Suguru fucks you through your orgasm. Your release runs down their fingers, as Satoru lifts his hand a moment to lick his fingers clean. 

God, you’re too pretty for your own good, Satoru’s eyes drag over you — your kiss ruined lips, skin shiny from your sweat, and the way your eyes were lost in an endless pool of lust. 

“Suguru was right, you’re the sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted,” Satoru grin, gently turning your head, and you’re panting, nose wrinkling ever so slightly at his words, and he tuts, “don’t believe me? Well I can fix that,” and his lips find yours again, letting you taste yourself, swallowing your moans, as Suguru continued to finger fuck you. 

Suguru’s finger stretches you open, fluttering, knuckle deep, as your precum drips down his fingers. 

“Remember who’s fucking this cunt, sweetheart,” and Suguru is, another finger parting your needy folds, and between Satoru rubbing your clit and Suguru’s fingers curling to find that one spot, drags against your insides, “fuck, how are we going to fit, Satoru? She’s still so tight,” Suguru grunts. 

You pull your lips from Satoru’s, a whine leaving your lips, “More, please, I need—“ and a third finger joins the other two — but it’s not Suguru’s. 

“Fuck, you’re so fucking soft,” Satoru groans, pressing soft kisses to your skin, only serving to make you keen at their touch, and your walls flutter around their fingers. 

“Fuck, we’re trying to fuck her open and she just keeps getting tighter,” Suguru grunts, while Satoru’s lips find your earlobe, sucking, just as he adds another finger, a moan escaping your lips again. 

Suguru’s fingers fuck at a steady pace, fucking deeper and deeper, while Satoru’s are faster, pistoning in and out while dragging against your walls — and it’s not long until they are working you up to a second orgasm, it’s too fucking good — and they both find that spot in you that has you seeing stars. 

“I’m g’nna—” and Satoru finds your lips in a sloppy kiss, saliva slipping from the corner of your mouth. And you cum, even harder, your swollen folds clamping down on their fingers as they continue to fuck you unendingly through your orgasm. Your lips pull away, only to moan their names, again and again, until they finally slow down. 

“Good girl,” Suguru murmurs, pressing sweet kisses to your thighs, while you come down from your high, walls flutter around nothing at the praise, while Satoru nips at your neck right above your racing pulse. And your eyes find Suguru lazily palming his weeping erection, as you lift your bare foot to rub against it, making him hiss, while you rub against Satoru teasingly. 

“Don’t forget who’s in control,” you kiss Satoru again, before biting his bottom lip, and he’s melting into your touch, “and, you were good,” your foot rubs against Suguru’s cock again, drawing another pretty groan from his lips, “but now it’s time to be obedient.” 

And they are — as you have Satoru sit back against the pillow lined headboard, because if it was anything you knew now — Satoru loved to be controlled, while Suguru liked the illusion of control, even if he didn’t have even a bit of it. So you have Suguru kneeling behind you, as you climb into Satoru’s lap, a small groan leaving his lips as your cunt grazes his hard cock. 

“Such a good boy, aren’t you, Toru?” your fingers run through his hair — and god, his undercut was so fucking hot, as your fingers found his cock, letting the tip tease your soaked folds, as you line yourself up, “tell me what you want,” 

“Fuck, princess, y’know what I want,” and a whine leaves his throat when you let his tip sink into you, only to pull out. 

“Come on, nothing else to say? You always love running that mouth, don’t you? You wanted this, wanted me to ruin you, didn’t you? Well here we are,” you hum, as you press a teasing kiss to the corner of his mouth, “beg me,” 

And his dick twitches, painfully hard, and the words spill from his lips, “Please, please, sweetheart, use me, use my cock as a toy, want you to fuck me so bad, make me yours—” and you’re sinking onto his cock, his length parting your folds, as moans fall from both of your lips. And he bottoms out, your hips meeting his as you do, and you can feel every vein, every ridge, every inch notched inside your walls. 

“Toru, fuck, s’good, s’big,” it feels too fucking good, and he’s so long — god, he was brushing against places you never even dreamed of reaching. And your pussy clenched at the thought of how deep he would go when he would start thrusting. 

“Sure you have space for me, Princess?” Suguru leans back over to press kisses all over your face, before finding your lips in a heated kiss, “might be too tight of a fit,” his nose brushing against your cheek. 

“I’ll make you fit,” you murmur against his lips, your hands against Satoru’s chest, as you shift to cup his chin, “get behind me, Sugu,” 

Suguru smirks, slipping behind you, pressing himself against your back, dragging his cock teasingly against you, “So needy — you’re worse than Satoru,” and Satoru makes a noise of protest, but your walls flutter, making his back arch, “want me inside you, sweetheart?” And his tip teases at your entrance, brushing against Satoru’s cock, causing all three of you to moan, “tell me how much you want us to fuck you, how much you want both of us inside you,” 

“Fucker, I swear to god,” you turn your head, your glare undercut by the desperation on your face, “just fuck me— 

And Suguru sinks into you, your head falling back against him, as both of their cocks stretch your cunt out. You were so fucking full. And the way your walls clenched around them was nearly enough to make them cum. Their groans come in unison. 

“Fuck, Princess, you don’t have to break our dicks off — we’ll fuck you again,” Suguru grunts, his rough palms sliding to your hips to squeeze them. 

“S’good, sweetheart, so fucking right for us,” and you can’t think straight with the two of them inside of you, and you’re moaning. 

“Please, move—“ and they oblige, beginning to fuck you. You moved against Satoru, riding him as best you can, while Suguru fucked you from behind, his balls slapping against your ass. 

Suguru drives into you at a steady pace, causing you to rock against Satoru, your hips pressed against his, as they both drive deeper and deeper into your wet cunt. 

“S’good, so pretty,” Suguru presses sweet kisses to your neck, while Satoru’s eyes flutter open to meet yours, “I’m close, Satoru—“ 

“Me too,” Satoru manages, and his hips begin to meet your thrusts, “you gonna cum for us princess?” And he finds your gaze, the fucked out expression enough to nearly make him cum right there. 

A whine leaves your lips, as they continue to fuck you, and you know you’re so close. And then they find that spot in you again, and you’re falling apart, lips parted in a moan, both their names on your lips. You clamp down on them, toes curling as you cum, and neither of them can last. Their hips stutter as they give sloppy thrusts, until they both cum, 

They groan your name as they spurt their thick cum inside, notching themselves as deep as they could, continuing to fuck their cum inside you with messy thrusts. 

A whimper escapes your lips between pants, as your arms and legs shake from your position, utterly fucked out. You three stay like that for a moment, both of their sweet nothings they murmur to you falling on deaf ears.

And then finally they are shifting you onto the bed, pressing soft kisses to your face and neck, as your eyes flutter shut. There’s shifting on the bed, as one of them leaves for a moment, and you make a noise, only to be reassured that he’ll be right back. 

Your eyes finally flutter open to find Satoru and Suguru cleaning you up with a wet washcloth, and your gaze finds both of their own. Your lips curl at the sight of them, their gentle gaze enough to make your heart ache. 

“Come back,” you whine, and they both chuckle, as they begin to finish drying you off, before tossing the washcloth into the wastebasket, and crawling back beside you. They help you pull a shirt on, before settling in. 

“So needy,” Satoru murmurs, pressing a kiss to your forehead, even as he buries his face in your chest, his warm breath tickling you as you run your fingers softly through his white locks. And Suguru presses himself to your back, pressing a soft kiss to your neck, his arm around your waist, and yours resting on top of his. 

“What will we do with her?” Suguru mutters, and you can hear the smirk in his tone. 

“Shut up,” you mumble, your eyes beginning to feel heavy, as you give into the warmth that enveloped you from their bodies, as it lulled you to sleep. And your lips curled into a smile, a smile that had you wondering right before you slipped into sleep—

When was it that you fell for them? 

~~~~

You couldn’t do this. Not to them. 

That’s what you had decided come morning — waking up between entangled limbs and soft breaths against your skin — how could you? You felt Satoru shift closer to you, as you leaned into his touch, running your fingers through Suguru’s black locks. You were addicted to their touch only after one night, and now you had to spend the rest of your life without it. 

It was the only way. 

This whole thing was ridiculous to begin with — you never cared to be involved in the yakuza to begin with. You wanted a normal life — or at least as normal of a life you could have with who your grandfather was. You had never expected to end up wrapped up in all of this — and in both of them. 

But you didn’t know if you could choose between them — and you knew, you had to. It wasn’t fair to either of them — not when they had asked you to choose last night and they had indulged you in both of them. And now, you didn’t want to let either of them go. 

So you had to let both of them go. 

You shifted slowly to sit up, Your fingers traced Satoru’s cheek lightly, as you toyed with a strand of Suguru’s hair. They both still stayed fast asleep, quiet snores filling the silence of the early morning, deep in the embrace of sleep after the events of last night and the last few weeks. You didn’t want to be someone like your grandfather — you didn’t know what you wanted and that was enough of an answer wasn’t it?

The two shift in their sleep, and your body grows heavy, your back still aching from last night, as you lie back down beside them, running your fingers over both of their arms. 

Even if you had your answer, you didn’t have to face it for another few hours. And their bodies shifted, Satoru burying his face in the nape of your neck, while you rested against Suguru’s chest. This was enough — enough to last you a lifetime, wasn’t it? Your eyes fluttered shut, sinking slowly back to sleep. You had told your grandfather you’d break their hearts — 

—but you didn’t know you would be breaking yours as well. 

~~~

“What do you mean she’s gone?” Satoru narrowed his eyes, crossing his arms, as Suguru stepped aside to show the empty room you had left behind — a bare husk with nothing left behind, not even a note. 

It had been a day. 

When Satoru had woken up beside you, he could have sworn he was still dreaming, even as he grazed your skin gently with the back of his knuckles, he still couldn’t quite believe it. And when he spotted Suguru pressing kisses to your cheek, he knew it was real. 

“How long have you been awake?” Satoru raised an eyebrow, “it’s not fair to have your fun while we were asleep,” 

And Suguru rolled his eyes, as he rubbed the back of his knuckles gently against her cheek, “I just woke up, and all I did was kiss her, you idiot,” 

“Not fair, that means I have to kiss her too,” Satoru murmurs, pressing gentle kisses to your forehead and cheek, and one even to your nose. Your nose wrinkles in your sleep, and Satoru’s lips quirk upwards, “she’s so exhausted from last night still,” 

“She is,” Suguru hums, as he tilts his head, “what are we going to do about last night?” 

Satoru pauses a moment to consider, “Well, what is there to discuss? She chose us both, didn’t she?” Satoru leaned close to you, to press a kiss to your head. 

“She did,” Suguru props himself up with his elbow on his side, “I thought you weren’t one to share,” 

And Satoru shrugged — he wasn’t one to share, he wanted what was his to be his alone, but with you — the more people to protect you, the better, “If it’s what makes her happy, I don’t mind,” and he adds, “and I don’t mind if it’s you that I’m sharing with,” 

Suguru raises an eyebrow, a chuckle on his lips, “Is that so? Well, good,” as he runs a finger through your hair, “because I feel the same.” 

But Satoru supposed you didn’t. 

“When did she—“ 

“My father told me she contacted her grandfather this morning, and let them know she was leaving — and her single request was to send us away on business so we wouldn’t be able to stop her,” and Satoru gives a bitter chuckle. 

“So that’s it?” Satoru crosses his arms, “why did she—“ and he cuts himself off, “have you tried to call—“ 

“I’m blocked, I assume you are too,” Suguru shook his head, a silence settling over the two of them that Satoru chose to break. 

“Do we go after her?” And Suguru pauses, his brow wrinkling a moment, before he sighs, shaking his head. 

“If she comes back, it has to be her choice,” Suguru slid his hands into his pockets, “otherwise, we’re back to square one,” and he adds, “and I don’t think I can go back after last night.” 

Suguru steps away, heading back down the hallway, and Satoru follows. 

No, Satoru thinks, sparing one glance at the empty room, before pulling the door shut, neither could he. 

~~~

“Why did you come back?” You set another box down, wiping the sweat from your brow, your grandfather simply watching as you brought your things back into your room. 

“What a warm welcome,” you scoff, as you head back out to pick up another — the other staff had offered to help, but you had waved them off, lifting another box, your back still aching — and now you were starting to regret it. But you knew if you didn’t do something to distract yourself — your phone taunting you on the top of your desk — you’d do something you’d regret. 

And you’d already filled your quota for the next six months at least. 

“Don’t get me wrong, kid,” the geezer sighed, as he watched you bring the last of the boxes in, “I’m glad you’re back and the matters are all settled — but,” he tilts his head, “you seem more miserable than before,” 

“I’m just tired,” you reply, but his furrowed brow says he’s unconvinced, as you grab a box cutter and begin to open up the boxes, beginning to sort through your things, “and still trying to wrap my head around the fact you lied to me,” 

And he sighs, “this isn’t about me right now — it’s about you—“ 

“How convenient,” you mutter under your breath. 

“You’re in love, aren’t you?” And you can’t help but freeze for a moment, until you force yourself to continue unpacking, pulling out some of your clothes from the box, “which one is it?” 

The question stabs between your ribs like a well thrust sword between the ribs, finding the center of the problem — along with your heart. 

“Gramps—” 

“So it’s both of them?” and you whirl on him, your eyes narrowing, and he chuckles, holding up his hand, “I didn’t spy — I just took a guess,” he sighed, as he pulled out your desk chair and took a seat in it, “and it looks like I was right,” 

You swallow, your eyes falling to the floor, “I didn’t cheat, if that’s what—” 

He laughs, “I know you aren’t like me, little one,” he leans back in the chair, hands folded in his lap, “you aren’t one to lie — because I know there’s more you hate than liars,” and his gaze grows a little sadder, “And I’m sorry I had to become one of them,” 

You grit your teeth, “I’m not mad at you — I’m just—” you choose your words carefully — because you’re angry, you were upset — upset that he felt as if he couldn’t trust you, “wondering why you didn’t tell me the truth,” 

He sighs, rubbing the back of his neck, “My past isn’t something I’m proud of, and I wanted to deal with it without involving you,” he sighed, “after everything with our family — I didn’t want to give you another reason to distance yourself from me,” 

“Lying to me isn’t a better option than that,” he rubs the back of his head, “you have to make it right for Akari and her mother — as well as if you have any other kids—I don’t need to know,” you add, when he opens his mouth, “it isn’t fair to them,” and it would be no fairer to not choose between Satoru and Suguru. 

“You’re right,” he raises a brow, “is that the problem? You can’t choose between the two of them, eh?” and your gaze refuses to meet his, “have you talked to them about it?” and your silence serves as an answer, “then I think you should take your own advice and talk to them about it,” 

“What will that do?” you murmur, “they still will want me to choose—” 

“Do you know that for a fact?” he crosses his arms, “I think you owe it to them and to yourself to talk to them, and to your grandfather who can’t stand to see you this miserable at home,” 

“Do you think it will change anything?” and he shrugs. 

“Maybe it will or maybe it won’t,” he tilts his head, as he pulls out his phone to call you a car, “but if it’s a chance for you to be happy, isn’t it worth taking?” 

~~~~

“I want to marry you both,” 

And again, your statement is met with confused stares, as you had all but pulled up to their compound and entered to find them seated together discussing business in a side room — and their stares were still anything but average — but to you now, they meant so much more. 

“Not marry you right now, but maybe eventually,” adrenaline was surely pumping through your system, right? That’s probably why your hands were shaking and your mouth was dry, but even so you knew you needed to say it before they spoke, “I’m sorry for leaving the way I did. I told myself after we first met I wouldn’t be a coward, but I was when I ran away, and I don’t have any excuse,” you swallowed, “but I know what I want — and I want both of you, as selfish as that feels,” guilt crawled up your throat at the statement of that sentence, as if begging you to swallow the words that spilled from your lips back up, “and I don’t know how either of you feel — but if we were to do this, I would want us to be honest and—” 

And the screech of their chairs takes you aback, and you felt your cheeks burn, was this it? 

But instead of brushing past you, they stand in front of you, one of them tilting your head upwards to meet their gazes. 

“Took you long enough, sweetheart,” Satoru’s lips curled, his hand cupping your cheek, “I know we said we wanted you to hurt us, but not like that,”

“Sent us away just to ghost us,” Suguru clicked his tongue, his fingers still under your chin, “I’ll have to plant a tracker on you again,” 

You shake your head, “Wait, what? Are you both okay—” 

“We did say we’d kill the other for your hand, but,” Suguru presses a kiss to your forehead, “But now we realize the more eyes watching you, the better, and,” he shrugs, “we don’t mind sharing if it’s just with the other,” 

“And I know you’ll prefer me sooner or later,” Satoru adds, earning a glare from Suguru, as you only chuckle, “Suguru is always so grumpy—ow!” Suguru smacks on the back of the head, as the black haired yakuza wraps his arms around you, pressing your back to his front. 

“And you are always too busy running your mouth,” Suguru replies, pressing a kiss to your cheek, “sure you can handle both of us in your life?” and you pull Satoru close too, letting his lips brush yours, before turning and pressing a kiss to Suguru. 

“Shouldn’t you be asking yourselves that?” you say, as the two of them wrap an arm around you, “I am supposed to ruin your lives after all.” 

✧ a/n: so this has been a longtime coming. i was supposed to be working on prof geto (5) + my nanami celebration fic but this took over my life and wouldn't let go until i finished. so i hope you guys enjoy!! and this is my reminder why i don't write multi partner scenes like this often because its....difficult. thank you to @gaylatteart for reading and putting up with me <333

✧ taglist: @midmourn, @whore-for-hawks, @ekaterinatepes, @satoryaa, @mandysfanfics, @sodoney, @sukunasfavoritehole, @kazbrkker, @satorugirlie, @itsbokutosjuicyass, @santos4, @levanadragoneel, @talkativetranscendant, @abiiebibie, @simply-a-s1mp, @jolynelovesrain, @deegausserr, @xxemmarldxx, @biancaness, @satoniko, @ackermanbby, @rintoriss, @kentocalls, @marionettte, @bear-likes-mushrooms, @forest-hashira, @catsgomurp, @k1t0u, @rat-loves, @forest-fruits-jam, @wishingforanother, @roseified, @spider-fan72, @caelestine-the-caelicatto, @gojolvrr34, @chosobun, @chuuyasboots, @nanamis-baker, @hanxyy,

#sab [mlist] #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo smut #suguru geto x reader #suguru geto smut #geto suguru smut #gojo satoru smut #stsg x reader #satosugu x reader #satoru gojo x you #suguru geto x you #jjk x reader #jjk fanfiction #jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo x reader #geto x reader #geto fanfiction #gojo fanfiction

[krashoutluv]

Imagine if, to save on the water bill/ they're just tired/etc, Jason (AK or comic really) and his S/o take an innocent shower together for the first time, yet the entire time Jason's trying his hardest to stay respectful and not stare, but at the same time wants to admire his S/o because he just loves how much they look. And possibly gets the shampoo in his eyes while distracted.

bear with me as ive been sick since wednesday and ive been writing this throughout my sick days. #fighting4mylife

Showering with Ak!Jason (SFW FIC)

ig their naked but its not ak!jay being horny just like in love so maybe nsfw nothing sexual happens mostly indirect tension soo??😭😭 ((tw: writing might suck))

JASON came home a little early from a bar. He went there for information on Penguins weapon deals. Jason would say something like, ‘it got a little messy,’ but a little messy to Jason was being covered in mud, blood, and clothes drenched from the rain that started on his way back. It was around 12 AM when he came back way earlier then his usual so you were hoping in the shower getting ready to go to sleep, not expecting him. You two saw each other just as you were walking into the bathroom.

“You look like shit—“ You turned your head into the bathroom so he couldn’t see your face; trying to bite back a cackle because of the words that slipped from your mouth,, “—I mean you can go first.” you looked back over at him,

“Well aren’t you the sweetest thing.“ He started taking off his gloves. “Go ahead.” He huffed.

“No seriously its fine, ill grab you a towel-“

“— The more you talk the longer it takes for the both of us.” He sighed, pulling off his jacket and folding it in a neat little square.

“Right, sorry.” You turn into the bathroom and pause. It was pretty obvious he was tired and wanted to get comfier then his muddied clothes let him; Thats when the thought hit you. “Unless.” You felt your face burn. You weren’t sure if Jason be comfortable with it, but it wasn’t sexual and it’d save you money from your water bill.

“Unless?” Jason questioned flatly, his back was turned to you and he was taking off his bloodied boots.

You slowly turned towards him, “You’d like to.. join me.” you had tried to sound as casual as possible. He paused completely, only getting half of his boot off before freezing. He looked back at you, like he wasn’t sure if he heard you properly. “LIKE—“ You raised your voice a little too loud on accident,”—Like, not like, you know. THAT. But like.” he took off his boot and started walking over to you as you rambled about how you didn’t mean it sexually it’d just be easier n’ y’know obviously he didn’t have to— You didn’t even notice the brick wall of a man making its way over to you until Jason stood in front of you.

”Yeah. Sure.” He replied flatly, your eyes meet his face, he was staring at your face completely stone cold. Maybe if you didn’t turn around to move to the door handle, maybe, just maybe you would’ve seen how his cheeks and ears were lightly dusted with red. But you didn’t.

You awkwardly shuffled to the side to let him in, closing the door behind you two. Back facing each other as you two undressed, you weren’t wearing a full outfit so you took everything off faster then him, yikes, awkward. You didnt wanna just stand there so you slipped past him with your head down at the floor to get the shower water running. Running your hand through the burning water just to push away the sound of him unbuckling his belt in the deepest part of your mind. “Uh, first-aid under the, uhm, fuckin- sink.” You stammered, still facing the shower waiting for the water to now cool down.

“You can get in first, i’ll patch myself up.” You did a little thumbs up behind your back, as if he saw, and made your way in, closing the curtain behind you. But he was totally lying. He should’ve patched himself up after you two had gotten out so he didn’t worry about anything washing into his cleaned wounds. But he needed to buy himself time to calm his nerves. You were so fuckin’ pretty, your skin brushed his as you passed him earlier and—its crazy how the Red Hood is single-handedly fighting for his life more now then when he was dealing with twelve grown men earlier.

After taking a purposeful three minutes longer then his usual, he stands up. He almost backs out as soon as he reaches for the shower curtains, he inhales then exhales, brushing his finger tips against the thin veil of cloth that just separates you two. “I’m, uh,-“ his voice cracks “-comin in now..”

“Hold on,” You quickly stepped out of the water stream, and leaned onto the back wall of the shower. “Alright, front of the shower where like, the, uh- water is, is all yours.” Jason cleared his voice just before he stepped in, being sure to keep his back turned to you. He let the water run over his marred skin, trying to ignore every scar on his back burning. After letting the water wash off the pieces of dirt that it could, or him finally succumbing to the sensation of getting the soap to scrub at his mangled flesh;

Jason turned his head to grab the soap— FUCK, he whipped his head back around into the showers stream. Scrubbing his face to try to wash the burning image of you out of his mind. The mixture of water and light highlighting your skin like an portrait. You’re staring down towards your feet playing with the water droplets on your crossed arms- fuck he needed to stop thinking about it. Jason pulled his head out of the water, croaking out ”Soap.” Yes, yes, wise words I know.

The next thing he knew, right by his shoulder was your hand holding out the soap. “Here, hope I’m holding it in the right spot.” You softly chuckled to yourself. He turned enough to see you covering your eyes with your other hand out of his peripheral vision. God he needed to stop looking. He took it from you and skimmed his face against the water before he grunted out a thanks.

He was questioning himself as he washed his blemished skin. He wasn’t a creep, he wasn’t staring at you because it was sexual. So what was he doing? What was this feeling? Why did he want to look at you anyways? Why did it remind him of the way he looks at marble statues? Was it because of the way your fingers dented your arms skin while you glide water droplets along your skin? Was it the way your head slightly tilted? Was it the was your body was effortlessly posed? Like you knew, like you were ready for every detail of your body was going to be eternalized into marble? Was it because of the urge to trace every part of your skin? Maybe to just get a feeling of what your sculptor felt? Was he being a fuckin creep?

He wasn’t sure, something he suddenly did become sure of was the fact you were probably cold as shit and he needed to hurry the fuck up.

guys idk how to feel abt this fic tbh

rq / inbox is closed

sorry i got like 12 i needa get done

#arkham knight x gn!reader #arkham knight x reader #jason todd x gn!reader #jason todd x reader #red hood x gn!reader #red hood x reader #arkham knight x reader #skullkidwithsunglasses #krash responds to u

[jennas-stuffs]

our little secret: mission impossible

TW: unprotected sex, piv, fingering, hickey-making, nipple-sucking, brief head (fem receiving), fluff, fem reader.

authors note: this is my first time writing smut so i’m definitely open to tips and constructive criticism 😭

i can’t believe i’m saying this but im actually excited about a college class this year. i’ve always loved criminology, i watched basically every tv series there is containing it growing up. so it’s safe to say i didn’t hate the actual subject my last three years, i just hated the professor. ok sure i doze off every now and then but i know my stuff. it’s just that, he doesn’t believe i do. just because he’s some super genius only a year older than me and already teaching people doesn’t mean that he gets to be the only smart one. enough about him because my complaints have finally been heard and the administration finally finally let me switch classes. i can finally be rid of him. i walk into class with my head up high only to find my posture slump down and my smile fade into a frown.

“hello again y/n, you didn’t think you would get rid of me that easily huh?”

what the actual fuck. what the fuck happened.

“i thought i was switching classes.” i say with my jaw shut tight

“i promised the admins that they wouldn’t have to do all that because i would make it work. also it doesn’t look too good for me when one of my students transfers out my class because we were having ‘altercations.’

the sound of every word out of his mouth is almost identical to the sound of nails on a chalkboard. i nod so he can shut up and angrily stomp to a seat. out of spite, i nap my way through his class and to my surprise i wake up to the sound of the bell signaling my next class. i wake up confused, “why didn’t he wake me up? he always does, he loves disturbing my beauty sleep.” i shake it off and pick up the class paperwork i’ll have to make up along with my homework. a week passes by with undisturbed sleep, this is just getting weird. maybe this is what he meant by making it work. if it is, i’ll have to stay i expected more from him. hes so professional and strict, as would anyone expect coming from an ex-fbi agent. i mean this guy literally saw people die in front of him, and didn’t one of the serial killers set him up to be put in jail? what does he think he’s doing letting me sleep in his class? i should confront him. if he wants me in his class, he’s gonna have to earn it. he thought he could have the easy way out with me, oh no no no. i make a plan to set an appointment with him at the end of the day.

his office is neat and organized like i expected. too bad his freakishly tidy desk is gonna get a glimpse of this sleep deprived, angsty, college student.

we sit down and he quickly releases an exhale.

“so i’m assuming this meeting is about our non-existent altercations, because your grades are great, y/n. i haven’t started a feud just yet so what’s going on?”

i stand up rapidly, pushing my seat backwards. i slam my hand on his desk, leaving a mark on his papers, not like i care though.

“good job figuring that one out professor genius. so listen up. if you think just letting me sleep thorough your class is gonna prevent me from complaining to the admins again, think again. you probably think this is the easy way out so you don’t have to actually work it out with me well guess what. that’s extremely unprofessional. and in all honesty i expected more from you. im disappointed, professor reid. i guess your retired days from the fbi really tore you down huh? you don’t have that same spark in you- you”

“i know about your nightmares y/n.”

…

“what?”

“i’m retired from the fbi, correct. from the behavioral analysis unit. i can still profile people you know. from what i’ve noticed, you barley get any sleep and run on coffee. the work you miss in class you use as an excuse to stay up late at night to procrastinate on the sleep you know will wake you up in cold sweat the next morning. the only good sleep you seem to get, is the one in my class. see, i used to mind the fact that you were just sleeping though my lectures but it’s never interfered with your grade. so, i figured since it’s your last year of college and all i would allow my period to be your nap time.”

…

i sit down shamefully and shrink in my seat. i’m so embarrassed. he was just trying to help me and i snapped at him. i feel like an idiot.

“im so sorry. and thank you. thank you so much.”

one more word and i’ll burst out crying. i quickly pick up my bag and head for the door. but my wrist is grabbed by a warm hand.

“wait, y/n?”

i turn around to meet his eyes and pray he doesn’t notice the extra liquid in them.

i clear my throat, “yes professor reid?”

my wrist hasn’t been released yet.

“are you getting help for the- you know.”

“um i used to when i was little and it helped and they went away, but it came back.”

“when?”

“since i started college.”

“can you sit back down please, i just want to talk.”

here he is being so helpful and i’ve been hating him this whole time. when he wasn’t worried for my grades, he was worried for my sleep, and when he isn’t worried for my sleep, he’s worried for my mental health. i feel like such a petty bitch.

my wrist is released and we sit down.

we talk for hours and hours and he tells me stories of when he was an agent. i’ve never laughed so much in my life. we trade in our top worst and best moments in our lives when he realizes…

“wait so, sorry, if this is crossing a line and feel free to not answer but you’ve had boyfriends. but you’ve never had sex?”

“yeahh that’s accurate. it’s just everytime i think about someone seeing me naked i just get tense, like, just the thought of it makes me squirm.”

“so you have body image issues?”

“woww way to be slick with that one profiler, but sure, i guess.”

he laughs. and this laugh was different from all the other ones because it was this laugh i realized i don’t hate his voice anymore. it actually sounds, nice.

“so you’re telling me you’ve tried everything, all your therapists have given you medication and nothing really stuck?”

“i’m a lost cause doc.”

“don’t say that.”

…

“you know you haven’t tried everything.”

“sex makes me barf. no way.”

“hey a pretty girl like you can easily find some college guy to mess around with. don’t be so closed minded y/n.”

“mhm because you’ve had so much experience.”

his face goes pink.

“how did you know?”

“what? no i was kidding. wait. you’ve never had sex either? YOU HYPOCRITE!”

“it’s much easier said than done.”

“hey, a handsome guy like yourself can easily find some girl to mess around with. don’t be so closed minded professor.”

“spencer”

“what?”

“in my office, you can call me spencer”

“okay, spencer, how about we make a deal.”

“what kind of deal?” he says with a raised eyebrow

“the first to have sex is the better person because they are not a hypocrite.”

“that sounds like mission impossible but. ok. fine. deal.”

“REALLY? i was just joking but OKAY DEAL.”

we shake hands and i go back to my dorm and sleep. i slept, better, that night.

we check in with each other everyday to see if the other person won yet.

“has mission impossible been completed professor?”

“nope. what about you y/n?”

“nope.”

that’s not all we did, though. we went out to cafes to talk about life and how us virgins are channeling that sex energy into some other thing. seeing professor reid, i mean spencer, outside of school was weird. all of sudden his eyes were easier to look into. i just couldnt get enough of them. it was like i was drowning in them. don’t get me started on that voice paired with that cute face. i could just snuggle myself up into each word that came out of his mouth. but we had that same check up conversation everyday after class for a whole month until…

“hey y/n?”

“yeah?”

“are you free by the end of the day i wanna talk to you in my office”

“what happened to meeting up at the cafe? wait. did i miss an assignment? i’m so sorry i’ll make it up i swear.”

he smiles and laughs. that beautiful laugh. “no no i just wanna talk in a more private setting. you know how people can eavesdrop in cafes.”

“oh yeah sure i’ll see you then.”

“see you.”

WHY DID I SAY SURE? WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH ME. THAT WHOLE REASON WHY I NEEDED US TO BE IN A CAFE WAS BECAUSE IT WAS PUBLIC. i can’t help myself when i see him. i know it’s wrong because he’s my teacher but he’s just a year older? i’m trying to justify these feelings for him but i can’t. i can’t help it. he’s so nice to me and i don’t deserve it, i just wanna repay him. no,nonononono. i can’t. not in that way. i have a meeting with him and it’s in his office so it’s strictly professional.

…

“hey y/n”

“hi professor”

he raises an eyebrow.

“hi spencerr, ” i say as i roll my eyes.

“ok good so uh.”

he pulls his chair and adjusts mine so that we’re sitting face to face, with no desk in the middle. god, this is gonna be a long meeting for me.

“i think we’re gonna have to switch your class”

“what?! why! we just started getting along don’t ruin it now!”

truthfully, i wouldn’t mind. all this tension i felt would definitely tone down if i didn’t see him so much. but i wanna see him, i love the butterflies he give me. it’s just so annoying i can’t do anything to ‘relieve’ them.

“well we’re just too friendly now, there’s barley any teacher-student boundaries.”

“are you serious. YOU’RE THAT ONE THAT INSISTS I CALL YOU BY YOUR FIRST NAME.”

he smiles “it’s not only that”

“you’ve chewed up my heart by making me switch classes, so, spit it out.”

“i think i like you.”

my heart feels like it’s gonna pop out of my chest, my pussy throbes and my stomach get butterflies. i get this overwhelming feeling of kissing him. but i can’t. we can’t. we shouldn’t. i look to the door and i look back at him. i stand up and walk up to the door, and lock it. i close the blinds and look at him.

“i like you too spencer.”

he grabs me by the waist and pins me to the door. we’re half a centimeter away from each others lips. looking at each others eyes and looking back down at each others lips.

“we shouldn’t.”

he nods, “we shouldn’t”

we slam each others lips against each other, making me let out the dirtiest of moans. he looks down on me and watches me unfold underneath him.

“you’re just a hot mess for me hm?”

i whimper and notice the throbbing feeling in my pussy intensify. it’s a hot steamy make out scene in his pretty little office, and i wonder how badly we can mess it up.

“spencer?” i gasp, barley having enough breath between kisses.

“fuck. say my name again please y/n.”

i moan, “spencer”

“again baby”

i cry out “spencer”

he says in his sweet voice “yes y/n?”

“fuck me.” i say in a whimper

and with those two words he kicks off his shoes and kisses me again. i mirror him taking off his clothes, working is way down, and up. once we’re both completely stripped he takes a second to look me up and down.

“you’re beautiful. all this time you’ve been hiding this?”

he bends his knees in front of me and kisses my breasts. i giggle at the feeling it gives me, similar to a tickle. he is just so sweet it melts me. while making out we move to his desk, where he pushes all his papers to the floor. he lays me down and my skin winces at the coldness of the wood. he’s sucks on my top lip, bottom lip, my jawline, my neck, my collarbone, making his way down to my nipples. i whimper, feeling his tongue go around in circles. i let out a loud moan, almost a scream, and notice the sudden arch my back went into when he starts to suck. he plans to leave every intimate place on my body with a hickey.

“you wanna leave marks on me spencer?”

he nods, making his way to the other nipple.

it’s just the sound of my whining and his sucking in his office, he breaks the silence for a second.

“i wanna show everyone you’re mine.”

then immediately goes back to sucking.

“my neck shows that enough-mm- spencer.”

“spencer… ohh spencer”

“yes y/n”

“feel me.”

that seems to have gotten him to stop sucking and he sticks to fingers up my throbbing pussy. i whimper at the motion.

“so wet, all of this for me?”

“mhm all for you”

he moves his fingers up and down, making me become a moaning, whining, whimpering, ‘hot’, mess again.

“spencer?”

“yes baby”

“i need you inside me.”

he looks down on me and suddenly the innocent light in his eyes disappear, witnessing a dark cloudy haze rolling in, covering his eyes.

“oh yeah?”

too far deep in the storm that is his eyes to speak, i simply nod. plus, that “oh yeah?” left me FOLDED.

he leaves a trail of kisses on my inner thighs, making me squirm. i feel the heat on his breath when he sticks out his tongue and sucks my core. he sits up and holds his dick, moving the the tip up and down against my folds.

“damn it spencer,” sounding like a whining brat, “stick it in already.”

he slams it in, thrusting forcefully, but slowly.

“faster.”

“yes baby”

i moan, grabbing his hair for support while my back arches even more, begging for more.

he speeds up, faster and faster, filling the office with the sound of unholy clicking, and not the type of clicking that comes from a clock. wet clicking.

i keep moaning his name…

“spencer, spencer, spencer?, oh fuck spencer, yes, please, fuck, fuck, spencer, i’m gonna cum im gonna cum, spencer.”

my head jolts back as he rails me through my orgasm.

…

now we’re laying on top of each other on his, now, filthy desk, covered in our cum and sweat. as we catch our breath i say unconsciously out loud,

“oh shit.”

i feel his laugh vibrating from his chest to mine.

“no, spencer, this is bad.”

“why?”

i sit up now realizing the mistake i made. he mirrors my action with a concerned expression.

“isn’t there some kind of rule in the university’s handbook that forbids students from having sexual relations with their teachers? i mean that’s considering that an average professor would be much older than them, usually it would be illegal anyways. do you think they would make some sort of exception? wait, do you think we’d have to tell them? will i get suspended? will you loose your job? oh my god, ok. so what if… what?”

he keeps staring at me rambling with a goofy smile plastered on his face that’s suppressing a laugh.

“whattt?”

“you know no one has to know about this, right?”

“but what if someone finds out?”

“y/n, what time did i have you come meet me in this office?”

“7pm”

“mhm.”

my eyes widen at the realization.

“ok so you made me come over when you knew the office would be closed just so you could confess your feelings to me, in your office, when the building was closed and everyone went back home?”

“yeah.”

“you know you could’ve just invited me over to your place. you didn’t have to make it so complicated.”

“well our situation is complicated, and if we want to continue to explore this ‘situation,’ we’re gonna have to be sneaky.”

i feel my face heating up.

“soo your likee my secret loverrrr”

he cracks a smile.

“i guess this’ll be our little secret.”

…

after we get back in our clothes and walk out together to our cars, he turns to me and says,

“hey y/n, have you completed mission impossible?”

“yup, what about you?”

“yeah, same.”

😱😱😱 THE END 😱😱😱

#smut #spencer reid #enemies smut #spencer reid smut #enemies to friends to lovers #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fluff #slow burn #secret love #fluff #matthew gray gubler #mgg smut #mgg fanfiction #mgg fluff #mgg x y/n #mgg x reader #mgg x you #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x fem!reader smut #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!readr #enimes to lovers

[differenteagletragedy]

Baxter is a daaaaddy

In which @orion4ever generally requested fics with Daddy Baxter and I decided to write a novel -- this is a series of short little shots of Baxter and MC having a baby and watching that child grow up.

(Note: the baby's name is maybe the corniest thing I have ever done in my entire life but I stand by it and now it is my truth.)

"Do you think maybe you've taken enough tests?" Cove asked, standing next to you in his bathroom.

You looked down at the counter at the neat little line of pregnancy tests. There were different brands, different prices, but they all had the same result.

You were pregnant. With Baxter's baby. And it was NOT planned.

"What are you going to do?" he asked after you didn't answer his first question.

"I'm going to tell him," you responded, trying to project more confidence than you felt.

You and Baxter had been back together for a while at that point, and you'd been living together in Prism Vista City for a couple of years. Your relationship was great, and you absolutely wanted to marry him and have children together. But the plan was for all that to happen in the future.

Life, however, had a different plan.

Cove hyped you up as you collected all the sticks, wrapped them up in the bag from the drug store and threw them away. He kept it going as you walked out to your car to drive home, telling you about how great it would go, how Baxter would be so excited, how you'd be the best mom -- the sweetest words from your sweetest friend.

You tried to keep them in your mind as you made your way back to the apartment. When you made your way up to the front door, you paused, taking in a breath, then went inside.

"There's my girl," Baxter said sweetly, glancing over from the kitchen. The smells wafting through to the living room told you he was almost done cooking dinner.

"Hey," you answered, a bit less enthusiastically than normal.

It wasn't that you thought he'd be mean about it, or disappointed or anything. Not really. It's just that Baxter's original disappearing act left a bigger impression on you than you liked to admit, even now. Logically, you knew there was no chance of him running away. But still, those old feelings were resurfacing and it made you a little uneasy.

"What's wrong?" he asked immediately, dropping what he was doing to move to stand in front of you.

"Nothing," you said automatically -- you hadn't planned out how to tell him, but you didn't think the doorway would be a great place.

"I know you better than that," he chided, then repeated, "What's wrong?"

His eyes were boring into yours, and it just slipped out.

When he heard those words fall quietly from your lips, he froze. For what felt like forever, he didn't make a sound. He didn't move.

Then he pulled you into a bone-crushing hug.

All the emotions you'd been trying to hold in let loose, and you started sobbing on his shoulder. He held you, stroking your hair, whispering how much he loved you until you were able to calm down a bit.

He leaned back just enough to look at you and asked, "Are we doing this?"

"I want to," you said, certain of that much.

A wide grin broke out on his face -- not one of his usually little lazy smirks, a full-on smile.

And that's how you and Baxter started on the journey of a lifetime.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"If A goes into C ... then ... no, that can't be right," Baxter said, staring out at all the wood pieces and hardware bits laid out around him.

You were about six months along, your tummy was getting rounder, and he had you sitting on the rocking chair in the room you'd been converting to a nursery like the dainty princess he'd been treating you as for the past several months.

He was putting together a crib for the baby. It was not going well.

After you became pregnant, the two of you had decided that it might be time to find a nice little house in the suburbs, somewhere with a yard and a little more room. Baxter took the task on, spending hours upon hours researching and making calls and talking to the bank. When he found some real contenders, he'd taken you out to see them, and that's how you found your new home.

And yes, he'd assured you, the ice cream truck came down this street.

Looking down at your boyfriend reading a packet of assembly instructions like it was the most indecipherable text known to man, you couldn't help but laugh.

"I do believe we're missing something," he muttered, not hearing you.

This had been going on for an hour, and he hadn't gotten anywhere. Baxter was beautiful and sweet and graceful and so many good things, but he certainly wasn't a handyman.

"Ok, that's enough."

He looked up when you stood, then got up himself, moving to you.

"You should be resting, darling," he said, putting his hands on your waist. "Sit back down, let me take care of this. Please."

"I'm pregnant, Baxter, not helpless," you laughed, snaking your arms over his shoulders and pulling him closer.

He smiled -- he had been making quite the fuss over you since you'd told him the big news, but he didn't mind a bit. He actually enjoyed it very much. After all, you were giving him the greatest gift -- a family -- and the least he could do was pamper you while your body created an entire human being.

"I like taking care of you," he reminded you. He placed a kiss on your forehead, and another on your temple.

"Then stop messing around with this stupid crib and mess around with me instead," you said.

He raised an eyebrow, but your remark wasn't a huge surprise. Pregnancy hormones were intense, and after you got through an unpleasant first trimester, you'd gotten pretty ... fiesty.

"What kind of man would I be to deny the mother of my child something she asks for?" he asked.

"No kind of man at all," you replied, pulling him down for a proper kiss.

If Baby Ward ever asked where their antique crib came from, you'd have to come up with a good answer. "Your dad couldn't figure out IKEA instructions and your mom was too horny to help him" just didn't sound like a great story to pass on.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

You were exhausted, more exhausted than you'd ever been in your life by far. If you'd been in any another situation, you would have passed out a long time ago and slept as long as humanly possible.

But the sight of Baxter standing in your hospital room, cradling your newborn baby girl with such a look of love and devotion on his face was enough for you to keep your eyes open.

"She's perfect," he told you softly. "Absolutely perfect."

The baby, who you still hadn't named yet, gave a little coo, and you'd swear if he wasn't so intent on holding her so carefully he would have melted right into the floor.

"Daddy loves you," he told her, using a mix between his normal fancy voice and a baby-talk tone that he'd been using throughout your pregnancy when talking to your tummy -- it was equal parts adorable and hilarious. "Daddy is going to take care of you and mommy forever and ever, you little angel, daddy's little princess ..."'

He went on like that for a while. It could have been the exhaustion, but you thought you saw actual hearts in his eyes once.

After a bit, the baby started crying. Baxter swiftly handed her to you, and you started a breastfeeding attempt. He stayed right by your side, helping you angle her around and move her head to try to find the best latch. Once you'd found it, you smiled up at him.

"I think I know what her name is," you told him.

"Oh?" he asked. "Do share."

"Penelope. Penny for short."

He smirked at the reference to one of his old favorite sayings, then looked down at the baby. He studied her for a moment, then looked back to you.

"Penny Ward," he said, giving you a quick kiss. "One of the two lights of my life."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Penny ... baby, please ..." you cried, holding your six-month-old daughter in your arms as she cried right along with you.

She was teething, a sharp little top of a tooth poking through her gums, and she didn't care for the feeling one bit. You'd tried everything -- teething rights, soft frozen foods, tylenol, walking, sitting, lying down. Nothing was working.

"Daddy's home," you heard from the doorway. Baxter had been off working a wedding, and you hadn't heard him come in over the sound of Penny's screams.

He walked directly to you, still in his self-designated work uniform of a black shirt and slacks, and took the baby from you.

"I've got her," he said, rubbing her back lightly. "Why don't you take care of yourself? Bed, dinner, a bath, perhaps? What do you need?"

You leaned against the wall, still crying yourself and not sure how to respond. You watched as Baxter kissed Penny on the cheek and moved with her across the room in a little waltz. He'd done this since she was born -- she liked being walked around, but why would Baxter walk when dancing was just as easy?

She settled down a bit in his arms -- a daddy's girl, through and through.

"Can I take a shower?" you asked. "Then I can get her to sleep while you get ready for bed."

"Absolutely not," he told you. "And miss an evening with one of my favorite girls?"

"You worked all day," you reminded him. "You need to rest."

"I think we both know I've got quite the knack for burning the midnight oil."

The two of you had a bit of a stare down, but you were too tired, and Baxter with your baby in his arms was too sweet.

"Ok, fine," you finally said. "I'll take a shower and lay down for a little while, but you come get me soon so you can go to bed."

"Absolutely," he said in a way that actually meant "absolutely not."

Still, you wandered off to change out of your vomit-stained shirt and hop in the shower, completely drained but completely aware of how much you'd lucked out with Baxter.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

You'd been with Baxter for a long time. You'd seen him at his highest and at his lowest, at his most confident and in the depths of his self hatred.

But you don't think anything quite compared to the Baxter you saw in front of you -- the Baxter who was standing in a hospital room, watching his four-year-old daughter wailing with a broken arm.

He had taken Penny to the park while you got some work done, and she'd fallen off the swing and landed funny on her arm. That was all, a normal childhood injury. Of course it was difficult to see your child in pain, but you could tell Baxter was also blaming himself.

"I've got you, sweetheart," he said softly, standing by the bed. He had one hand on her head, holding it against him, and the other was grasping the hand on her uninjured arm.

"You've got to be a brave girl, ok?" you said. You were kneeling in front of her, careful for the doctors who were at a small table by the bed, preparing to anesthetize her so they could set her arm in a cast.

"But it hurts!" she sobbed. "I want to go home!"

Baxter tensed a bit, and when you glanced up at him you saw tears in his eyes. Still, he did his best to hold it together for his pride and joy.

"I'll tell you what," he said, gripping her hand. "You just be brave for a little longer, then tomorrow we can do whatever you like. Movies all day, candy for breakfast, a toy store shopping spree -- just name it."

You glanced at him again. This girl could take this guilt trip for a major ride if she wanted.

Penny's sniffles slowed down a little as she looked up at her father. "Can we play princesses?"

"We'll be the prettiest princesses in all the land," he replied with no hesitation.

That seemed to make her happy, then the doctors were ready. They put her to sleep, then ushered you and Baxter out of the room while they got to work.

"I'm so sorry," Baxter gasped, all the emotion falling out of him now that his daughter wasn't there to see it. "It happened so quickly -- I should have been closer, I should have caught her ..."

"It was an accident," you told him simply as you pulled him into a hug. "That's all. It's not your fault."

"But it is," he argued. "I was there, I was taking care of her. If she'd fallen differently, if something else had happened, I don't --"

"Stop," you cut him off. "There's no reason to think like that. You're an amazing father. This was an accident. Don't beat yourself up."

He buried his face against your shoulder, and you felt the wetness of his tears. Penny was his world, the thought that he'd put her in danger and inadvertently caused her pain was killing him.

"You're a good father," you repeated. "If I was the one with her at the park, would you blame me?"

"Of course not," he scoffed.

"Then why can't you give yourself the same consideration?"

An age old question about an issue that Baxter was better about, but still struggled with. He held himself to an impossibly high standard, one that he'd never expect anyone else to meet.

When he failed to answer, you hugged him tighter. You told him again how wonderful he was, how much Penny loved and adored him. As you were singing his praises, a nurse came out of the room and told you that they were all done.

After a while longer, the little girl was discharged and sent home with a pink cast that gave you some warm and fuzzy feelings of your own childhood. After sleeping in the next morning, she felt better when she woke up, and your little family spent the day as princesses, complete with tiaras, tutus and wands. And you were the prettiest in all the land.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Oh my god ... oh ... my god."

"Amazing, right?"

Penny, now a precocious ten-year-old, sat on the floor in the bedroom you shared with Baxter, holding an old photograph in her hands. She looked absolutely entranced, which made sense, considering what the picture showed her.

She'd heard of Baxter's infamous monochrome phase. Her aunts and uncles had made plenty of remarks about it over the years -- Uncle Terry was able to paint an especially vivid picture.

He didn't have many pictures at all of himself when he was younger. He'd cut ties with his family years ago, so any photos there were out, and he'd gone through that lengthy phase where he didn't really let himself have friends. He didn't really like being in photos then, although you had managed to snap a couple of him during that summer in Sunset Bird.

And so your daughter had in her hands a picture of Baxter, all of 19 years old, in all his black and white glory.

"Oh my god," she repeated.

The man himself appeared in the doorway then. He'd been about to announce that dinner was almost ready, but seeing the scene before him, he stopped.

You looked from the photograph back up to Baxter, taking in all the changes that the past two decades had brought. The black and white hair was gone of course, and he'd long been able to wear actual colors. He'd put on a few pounds too -- after all, he wasn't 19 anymore. The smirk though, that was definitely the same.

"Dad, can I be honest?" Penny asked.

"Always," he answered easily.

"You looked ridiculous. Like really. What were you even thinking?"

"I don't know, I think there was a certain charm there," he teased, leaning over her to get a better look at the picture. "I wonder, do you think I could pull that off again? Perhaps a trip to the salon is in order."

"No."

"Oh, come on," he continued. "It wasn't nearly as bad a look as you seem to think. After all, your mother liked it well enough."

"Gross," she cried, standing up and placing the photo on the bed. "I'm going to my room so I don't have to hear this. I'm traumatized."

You laughed as your dramatic daughter did a full-body shake to emphasize how scarred she was. After she was gone, you turned to Baxter, who was grinning at you.

"It wasn't that ridiculous, was it?" he asked, knowing that it, in fact, was that ridiculous and more.

"It's what's inside that counts," you told him, going in for a kiss.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Look up ... more ... keep your eyes open, I've almost got it."

After a moment, Penny pulled back and examined Baxter's face. She nodded, satisfied at the look of the eyeliner she'd applied on him.

She was 16 now, and she'd developed a flair for the dramatic like her father had when he was a teenager. Instead of a monochromatic look, she preferred dark colors and heavy makeup. She'd also grown out of her "ugh, parents" stage early, which was why she was letting Baxter take her to a concert.

It was a metal band he liked, and when she heard him playing it in the car, she liked it too. He found tickets to a show they were doing nearby, and you encouraged him to take her on a daddy-daughter date.

That's why you were gathered in the bathroom together -- she had to put a little makeup on him so he fit in.

"I've got some leather pants I'm going to wear as well," he told her. "And for my shirt, I was thinking perhaps I skip it and instead put on a matching leather vest. What do you think?"

After 16 years of living with Baxter, Penny was no longer bothered by his constant teasing. She went on with her business, smudging the eyeliner before beginning to apply a dark blush.

"Whatever you want, dad," she answered. "Whatever you wear, I'm sure you'll be the prettiest princess in all the land."

Baxter was already thrilled to be going out with her, but after hearing the old callback to her favorite childhood game, you could see he was melting.

When the makeup was done, he got dressed -- not in the leather ensemble he suggested -- and you waved them off as they left for the concert.

After they returned home that night, Penny was ecstatic, and so was Baxter. You listened as they went on about how great the show was, and how excited she was to experience her first mosh pit. A hint of anger flashed across her face when she mentioned a guy who was too rough and nearly knocked her down, but then she smiled when she told you her dad had taken care of it.

"What did you do?" you asked suspiciously.

"I took care of it, darling," he answered, giving a quick wink to Penny

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Years later, you found yourself taking in a familiar site, something you'd seen hundreds, if not thousands of times before.

Baxter was standing in front of you, nervously smoothing out his suit.

"Do I look all right?" he asked.

"As handsome as always," you told him.

He smiled and leaned in for a kiss, then ran his hands down his jacket again.

It was Penny's wedding day, and you don't think you'd ever seen him look as anxious as he did then.

He had planned the wedding -- of course he had. While he always took his job seriously, doing his very best to give his clients the best experience he possibly could, this time was just different. He went above and beyond, pouring himself into every detail to ensure his daughter had her dream day.

You and Penny had had to convince him to bring on a partner of sorts, someone to execute everything during the actual wedding so he could enjoy it. But you'd watched him keep a close eye on everything anyway, totally read to jump in if needed.

But right now, his mind was on something else. The reception was about to begin, which meant it wasn't too long until the father-daughter dance.

And Baxter was taking that dance very seriously.

He watched the newlyweds take their first dance, grabbing for your hand as you both looked on with pride. It was such a special feeling, knowing that your child had found someone who meant as much to her as you meant to each other.

Before you knew it, the music changed and Penny found you in the crowd gathered around. She gestured for Baxter to join her, and with one more tug at his tie, he walked towards her.

Watching them dance together was always so lovely, but it was a little different this time around. A lifetime of dances came to mind -- Baxter and Penny dancing around the kitchen when she was a cranky infant who refused to go to sleep, them dancing around her bedroom in their princess gear. You remembered him teaching her the basics of ballroom dancing as she prepared for her first school dance so she'd feel confident. He'd showed her all the trendy dances that were popular when you and her were kids, and although she pretended to die of embarrassment, she did laugh after he taught her how to Dougie.

You wondered how many more chances you'd get to see them like this, and you felt your breath catch in your throat. Things had changed so much, and they only kept changing. It was a bittersweet feeling.

As you were getting lost in your thoughts, you met Baxter's eyes as he moved Penny around the dancefloor. Instead of getting caught up in the uncertainties of the future, you let your heart swell with love.

Against all odds, you'd created a family with him. After a number of chance meetings and a couple of false starts, you'd built a life with him -- you'd put decades of blood, sweat and tears into it. And it was beautiful.

When Baxter led Penny by you, she stuck out her arm and snatched yours, dragging you into the dance as well. He laughed with delight, content to stop the more elaborate routine to wrap his arms around his two best girls and sway together.

"We did good," you told him quietly, glancing over at your daughter.

"We certainly did."

#olba #our life beginnings and always #our life #baxter ward #olba mc #olba baxter #baxter x mc #baxter x reader #our life beginnings and always baxter #baxter ward x reader #baxter ward x mc

[childotkw]

In dark side of the moon, can we hear a little more about Riddle's take on things? Particularly regarding Harry?

Tom was, admittedly, a little embarrassed that it took him so long to really notice Evans.

Dumbledore’s son - and wasn’t that a disturbing notion, that someone somewhere had looked at the man who regularly wore outrageously coloured robes decorated with bumblebees and snitches and fluffy clouds and thought him desirable enough to sleep with - had initially flown beneath Tom’s radar. Oh, his arrival at Hogwarts had sparked much conversation, but his actual presence?

Tom hadn’t given the young man much thought. He had had him categorised and labelled in a neat little box from the very first mention of his existence.

Any son of Dumbledore was surely a steadfast believer in his father’s doctrine after all, and therefore not worth Tom’s time.

That impression has lasted only a few weeks.

Word had spread about Evans’ mentorship of the Shame of Slytherin, Nathan Ciro, but Tom had never seen the two together. It had been a point of discussion amongst the school and their House in particular - Dumbledore’s offspring taking a Slytherin under his wing, yet another sign he had dismissed - but for all that people were baffled by the choice, no one seemed to know much of anything about the relationship. How or even why it had come to be.

It seemed like fate that Tom was the one to stumble across the pair. Without even trying he had accomplished what so many others had not.

As it should be.

He had only seen Evans from a distant before, and the man had never struck him as someone particularly intimidating or imposing. He was short, slender, dressed plainly, and the frankly hideous glasses he wore were the only thing Tom could make out of his face - another point, everything about the man was so carefully constructed to be forgettable, Tom really was a fool - but his voice was distinct.

Tom slowed momentarily when he heard the muffled sound of a conversation, then crept closer. It was late in the afternoon, still an hour before dinner would be served, but the dungeons were normally quite empty at this point. Classes had let out ages ago, and most Slytherins enjoyed basking in the sun before they had to return to the cold hallways that bracketed their common room.

He peeked around the corner, and immediately felt his interest pique.

Evans was squatting before a curled up Ciro, staring at the younger wizard with a painfully kind expression.

“- it didn’t work.” Ciro was mumbling, hiding his face in his knees.

“It was your first try, you can’t have expected to get it right straight away.” Evans’ voice was low and patient, not dissimilar to how he spoke in classes, but with a heavy kind of intensity in it that caught Tom off-guard. “Most wizards and witches never master it.”

And that intrigued Tom more. Just what was Evans teaching Ciro?

The other boy said something else, inaudible from how his mouth pressed into his knobbly knee. Evans huffed a laugh, poking Ciro with his wand. “What’s the rule, kid?”

Ciro shifted, unfurling a little. “Head up,” he grumbled, clearly reciting this so called ‘rule’. “I said, you mastered it, and you were younger than me when you did it.”

“I was,” Evans agreed easily, his smile sliding into place with an ease Tom was briefly envious of, “but I also had a hell of a motivator to get it done.”

“What, were you being harassed by dementors?” Ciro asked, his tone far more snide than Tom was used to. He could count on one hand the amount of times he had heard that level of life in Ciro’s voice. Certainly not in the last year had he shown that much fire.

But that knowledge felt secondary to the implication behind his words.

Dementors. A difficult spell. Surely they weren’t talking about the patronus? And Evans had supposedly mastered it before he was fourteen?

“Well, maybe not ‘harassed’, but I had a few run ins,” Evans said blandly, as if most wizards would survive one encounter with such a creature. Ciro goggled at his mentor, mirroring Tom’s own incredulousness. “The point is, I learned the patronus under a lot of pressure. I needed it to protect myself, so I pushed myself. You don’t have that driving you - and you should be bloody glad for it,” Evans added when he saw whatever expression crossed Ciro’s face.

“Then why are you trying to teach it to me?” Ciro’s voice was small. “If not everyone can master it…why bother at all?”

Evans sighed, his face creasing fondly as he ruffled the boy’s hair. “Because I know you can do it,” he said simply, as if the very idea that Ciro would not be able to produce a fucking patronus had never crossed his mind. “Kid, Nathan, you managed to produce mist on your first try. That alone is incredible. It took me weeks to get that far, and I had a far better teacher showing me the ropes. You’ll get there, but you have to be patient with yourself. I’ll be right behind you every step of the way, okay?”

Tom stood there, feeling oddly breathless as he watched the scene play out. He couldn’t hear the rest of the conversation, his ears flooded by the rush of blood.

He felt, strangely, as if something fundamental had just shifted inside him, and that was -

Exhilarating.

#scienceontheweekdays #HP #dark side of the moon au #harry potter #tom riddle #tomarry

[take-taker-taken]

could i please have comfort fluff with a quiet, shy reader who cries sometimes from feeling ugly and like no one likes or cares about her with 1997 lord of darkness taker? she doesn't want to bother him with her troubles but he wants to hear her

maybe a bit erotic too..

Ok, so whenever I try to write Ministry!Taker, what comes out is a Lord of the Manor type. I find it hard to write him within a wrestling universe due to the nature of the character, so it always ends being in an AU with an air of magic powers and mysticism - I hope that’s OK! I also didn’t quite get there with the eroticism, so I’m sorry about that - just felt that if I’d tried to add it then it would have seemed shoe-horned in and rushed.

Obsidian & Lilium

You didn’t realise that you could be heard. You thought you’d found a quiet spot when the sadness overtook you and so when the door to the under stairs cupboard opens you squeak in shock.

“Now, what do we have here?” The deep voice rumbles and then his head and shoulders appear in the now open doorway.

Your eyes go wide and your throat freezes up when you realise that it’s the master of the house. Unable to respond in the moment you hurriedly wipe a hand over your face.

“Out you come, girl.” His tone is gentle but firm and then he steps back, allowing you room to slink out of your hiding place. You stand before the giant of a man, the head of the Ministry of Darkness himself - the one known as The Undertaker, and try desperately to stop crying.

He steps away briefly as your tears reduce to sniffles and you notice that he’s at the sink. He turns back and presents you with a cool, damp cloth which you take and wipe over your face. You remain in stunned silence as he takes your hand and leads you to the table, taking a seat and indicating that you should do the same.

“Perhaps you’d like to tell me why you’re crying?”

You lift the cloth to your mouth and try not to get overwhelmed. The very idea that the Lord of Darkness is here with you ‘below stairs’ is enough to send you reeling, never mind that he’s talking to you as well.

You shake your head and mumble behind the cloth, “It doesn’t matter.”

His expression remains neutral but he reaches out and plucks the material from your hand, dropping it to the table. You glance up at him guiltily, realising that you should be showing more respect and add, “It’s nothing, sir.”

He taps his long, pale fingers gently against the table top. “Enough to have a member of my ministry hiding away in a cupboard and crying. I should say that matters.”

You stare at the digits in fascination, seeing for the first time how many of them are bent as though they’ve perhaps been broken. You notice the faint freckles that pepper the back of his hands and his short, neat nails. You’ve never been this close to him and find it surprising that you don’t feel particularly scared.

“Something has upset you,” he continues. “Has anybody spoken unkindly to you?”

You look up at him and a sigh escapes before you can stop it. He doesn’t react beyond a twitch of that pierced eyebrow and so you elaborate. “Nobody speaks to me, sir. Why would they?”

“I cannot imagine why they wouldn’t, little one.”

Your eyes raise to him in surprise at the mild endearment and he nods encouragingly. You pick up the cloth again and dab at your eyes but then shake your head as you say quietly, “It’s not important. Please, I - I shouldn’t be taking up your time like this.”

He reaches across and strokes a lazy circle on your hand with one finger. “I get to decide how I spend my time - no one else.”

Your hand seems to tingle at his touch and it’s clear that you’re to keep talking. You concentrate on the pattern he’s drawing on your skin and let the words fall out, even though the reality of it makes your voice crack a bit. “Nobody really likes me, sir. There’s no one to care about me - it’s not as if I’m pretty or anything.”

“Nonsense.” He waits for you to finish but is quick with his simple rebuttal. “I’ve spent only a few moments in your company and I find you perfectly likeable, so why shouldn’t others?” He continues on as you sit in rather stunned silence. “I myself care about each and every member of my ministry, and as to your last point, well…” He stops tracing his finger over your skin and instead takes your hand in his. “You are most definitely a pretty little thing. I expect even nicer without red eyes from all those tears.”

You stare at your joined hands, his covering yours completely and then glance up at him. His expression is inscrutable and you swallow. “It’s very kind of you - too kind, sir - to say that but,”

“I never say things that I do not mean, little one.” His interruption is quiet but firm and then you’re astonished to see that he’s smiling. Not the cruel or sarcastic smirks that you think you’re used to seeing sometimes on the faces of those around you, but a genuine smile - albeit small, but that somehow makes it even more real. Unbidden, you feel yourself returning it. “There, now - such a pretty smile.”

“Thank you,” you reply as you feel yourself blushing. Doubt still nags at you, however, and you say wistfully, “I wish it were true, sir. It seems that being attractive is valued more highly than anything. And that will never be me.”

He stands up without releasing your hand and so you have little choice but to get up with him. “Valued by those without the brains to value much else,” he says. “I would like you to take a walk with me.”

It’s a question and yet not one, given how he presents it with such finality - of course, he is used to being obeyed. You’re not about to try and resist his will, so you nod and with one hand in his and the other clutching the cloth, he leads you from the room.

He takes you up the stairs and through the main house which makes your head swivel around as you take it all in. The next familiar sight you see is the gardens - you love it when you get the opportunity to walk near here, though you’ve never seen it properly. You wish it wasn’t dark and it seems silly to stroll about when it is.

“A walk in the gardens when it’s dark, sir?” You can’t help voicing your doubt and then you squeak and then giggle as he turns his free hand palm up and you see a gentle glow emanating from it. It’s enough to light the way immediately ahead of you and makes you step more confidently.

“Certainly when it’s dark, little one.” There’s that tiny endearment again and it makes your heart swell a little. “Night blooming lilies are quite beautiful.” He leads you down a few more paths and then when you round the next corner you gasp in wonder because there they are - rows of bright, white lilies glowing in the moonlight. There’s a pond too, with yet more wide open flowers sitting atop the inky black surface as water trickles down a stone feature into the pool.

“I’ve never seen anything so pretty,” you whisper, utterly transfixed by the sight before you.

He lets go of your hand and you stiffen slightly as you feel him stroking his fingertips up your back. “I have,” he says softly. “And I’m standing with her at this very moment.”

You turn and look up at him, no longer feeling shy or like a lesser person. “Thank you.”

The statement seems too small but it’s all you can manage for now and you hope it’s enough. It must be, you think to yourself, because then he’s leaning down and brushing his lips against yours. You know and understand in that moment that everything is going to be alright.

END.

#the undertaker #undertaker #this character lives in my head rent free #wwe #wwf #fanfic #the undertaker x reader #undertaker x reader #ministry!taker #ministry undertaker #anon asks #TTT Tumblr Asks

[nichoskittycorner]

Maid to Help (Fuma Smut)

>> You worked an honest living as a maid in the estate of a rich man. You never really crossed paths with the Master of the House but the other maids said he was more beautiful in person than his portraits. At the same time, you heard his aura was intimidating so maybe it was better to stay away. Too bad you couldn't avoid him forever- while cleaning his office one night, you come face to face with him: Master Fuma Murata 

>>  penetrative sex, marking, creampie, maid!reader, CEO!Fuma, 

Word count:2.3k

A/N: Why does my writing feel like it changed… idk if this is good, someone tell me if it's a good change- Also 2 fics in one day- a record!

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

   Growing up, you never thought being a maid would be a job path you ended up taking. But times were rough and you needed a job so here you were. 

  You were lucky there was such a large estate in town that was looking for some assistance in maintaining their facilities. 

 Well, not just any estate, but the famed Murata estate. They were a wealthy family of many professions, owning a large home on the outskirts of town. 

  They said the family were all gorgeous and kind people. Giving to charities of all kinds and organizing events for the community with their wealth. 

  And even though you knew this about them, the youngest son, did have a reputation for having a scary demeanor. 

  Fuma Murata, in pictures with the press he always looks stunning and otherworldly. That or has a sweet smile that makes you want to hug him. But the other maids say that in person, he keeps to himself and can feel cold sometimes.

  You doubted it. This had to just be a hazing ritual from the other maids. You thanked the group of gossiping ladies and excused yourself from your lunch break the day they brought it up. 

  A part of you would always believe they were pulling your leg, until you passed him in person one day. You were busy cleaning in the hallway as he entered. 

  A cold, faraway look in his eyes as he trudged past without a word. It's like he saw right through you. It was disappointing to feel as if the old hens were right but maybe he was just cold at the end of the day. 

  Catching sight of Fuma was rare as it was, and you just wished you got to make a good impression first. Not like you expected anything… but being on the boss's good side was always a plus. 

  And so you continued to come into work, staying out of trouble and hoping that one day, Fuma would notice you and you could reintroduce yourself. 

  Well… it only took a few months but you finally got that meeting. 

   It was late one evening as your shift was winding down. You got a little caught up in cleaning his office to the best of your abilities that time had gotten away from you. 

  As you polished his desk to perfection, he entered the room. But he was so quiet you hadn't even realized it until he was standing right next to you. 

  He watched you curiously as you scrubbed at the wooden material vigorously. Crouching down and observing you closely. Taking in your beauty and determination as you worked.

  When you finally finished, you dropped the cloth into the bucket and sat on your butt, massaging your sore muscles before noticing the large man and jumping back in surprise. 

   "M-Master Fuma! Ah, I uh-" Panic was taking over and you stood up, bowing to him as he stood up as well. His eyes looked cold. Scanning you from head to toe without a word. 

  It sent shivers down your spine as he stepped closer, making you take one back. This pattern couldn't continue long before you were trapped against the desk, his arms caging you in as he leaned in close. 

  From here, you could read him differently. He wasn't completely a hollow shell of a person- he just looked tired. Despite his neat hair, fancy suit, and alluring scent, the bags under his eyes were quite prominent. 

  At this point, you felt bad for your earlier assumptions about him. He probably was a sweet guy but he was just tired every time he came home. That was so obvious! 

  "Master Fuma… how uh, may I assist you?" You couldn't look away from his gaze. As he watched you closely, his eyes flickered from your lips back to your eyes. His hand resting on your hip. 

  This little action made your entire body start to light up. Was he always this tall? Were his hands always this large? 

  Your mind couldn't think as his nose rested into the crook of your neck. His nose was a little cold and his lips brushed up against the slightly exposed skin. 

  "You want to assist me? Heh, I don't think you want to deal with this sweetheart." His voice rumbled through his chest which was pressed against you. That wasn't the only thing pressing into your body. 

  You could feel a stiff section in his dress pants pushing gently into your stomach. "I'm always so tired these days. Havent had a good fuck in a while. Makes me tense ya know." 

  Why was he telling you all this? And better yet, why weren't you afraid of this? His plush lips started to suckle on the sensitive skin, a little yelp leaving your lips. Maybe because you always found him attractive, or you really wanted to prove the rumors wrong. 

  "What's your name sweetheart?" He asked softly, sucking on your earlobe and nibbling on the skin. 

  "Y/n…" It came out like a pathetic whimper but he heard it nonetheless. 

  " Y/n. Beautiful. Would you like to assist me with this little…issue? I can assure you, you'll be rewarded greatly for your assistance." 

  Oh shoot- so there was a reward involved? Tempting. "Are there any hidden clauses?" 

  Fuma chuckled before leaning back, taking your chin in between his fingers and holding eye contact. "Just that you take me like the good girl you are." 

  Well if it wasn't for the butterflies that exploded in your chest, you would've actually thought about it. But it sounded all good to your swirling brain and so you nodded. 

  Fuma smiled before pressing your lips together in a kiss. It wasn't his tooth-rotting sweet smile but instead something darker. 

   No time to think it through as he held onto your chin and pushed his tongue into your mouth. His tongue explored your mouth with a burning fever as he pushed his hard-on into you even more. 

  In no time his hands were roaming your body. Over your breasts, waist, thighs, and neck. His hands make you feel even more small than you already concluded. 

  The kiss was broken as he grabbed you by your hips and turned your body around, pushing your front onto his desk and sticking your ass out to him. A part of you was glad your skirt was long but Fuma seemed to care less as he pushed it up to reveal your ass. 

  Large hands squeezes at your ass before running his fingers up and down the length of your panties making a slight purr leave your lips.

  "My apologies Y/n, I would take my time but I'm a bit on edge. Maybe next time." His hand lightly slapped your ass before pulling your panties down. Behind you, there was the sound of a zipper being undone and his clothes shuffling. 

   "That's fine Master, I can handle it." 

   "Oh? Now that's my good girl." A warm kiss was placed on your already wet pussy. Giving a little kitten lick to taste you, he moaned before standing back up fully and holding your hips tightly. 

  With one hand, he grabbed his large dick and pumped it a few times, ghosting his finger over the slit and shivering before lining it up with your entrance. 

  "Now just breathe sweetheart, this will be a little tight." You nodded, your heart beating in anticipation. He didn't hesitate before pushing his tip into your hole. 

   A curse nearly fell from your mouth and your eyes widened. Oh he wasn't lying about it being tight, only the 'little' part. It felt like his tip was trying to permanently leave your cunt as a gaping hole.

   Not that you had time to process and adjust before he slammed the rest of his length inside. You cried out and dropped your head onto the wooden desk. Trying to bite your lip to keep steady. 

  Never had you felt anyone stretch you this wide and or felt this deep. Tears instantly formed as he didn't even take a break to let you adjust, just started jerking his hips sharply into yours. 

  Each movement had him pulling out almost completely before connecting your hips back together harshly. You squirmed and tried to separate yourself from him but he only grabbed your wrists and held them behind your back. 

  "Don't run sweetheart, we have a deal, remember?" He pulled back on your wrists so your back was to his chest. Holding your hip to keep you still and snaking his hand into your uniform and pulling your breasts out on display. 

  Watching them flop and bounce with each hard thrust of his large cock. He used his free hand to hold one of them, squeezing and tugging at the soft flesh like a stress toy.

  The pain from before faded with time, the cries of pain turned into moans of lust and pleasure. Asking him for more and to go even deeper. 

  Your eyes closed as his lips found your neck once more, sucking and kissing harshly to leave bruises. Even biting down in some spots to make you whimper and clench down on him. Earning you a slap on the ass. 

  " Are you trying to make me cum early? And end our fun so soon?" He was taunting you and somehow it only made your pussy even wetter. 

  His hand on your hip trailed down until it found your clit, pushing and rubbing into it. You could almost hear his smirk when you jumped, meeting one of his thrusts as he brought you closer. 

  It felt good. So good you were babbling and started moving to both grind on his fingers but also meet his cock halfway. 

  "M-Master wanna cum, please-" His hips increased speed upon hearing your plea. 

  "Fuck sweetheart, yes, cum on my cock." It was almost like magic, your body instantly responding and shaking on him. Making a mess of your juices down your legs and on him. 

  As relieving as it felt, you knew he didn't cum, meaning he wasn't done with you. And your suspicion was confirmed when he grabbed you by your thigh and propped one leg on the table. Pushing your front onto the cold wood and opening you up more. 

  He wasted no time burying himself back into your warm gummy hole. So wet, so tight and he wanted it all for him. His movements were harsher than last time, snapping his hips so that even his full balls were hitting your core. 

  He was already so big and girthy, probably leaving a permanent mark on your walls. And at this point, you would accept that. Your mind is foggy only wanting to cum again and for his cum to fill you. 

  "Master… Master-" You chanted endlessly as he continued to fuck you. His chest pressed you further into the desk as he rutted his cock into you harshly. If you weren't in your right mind, you'd ask him to breed you or something. 

  "That's right sweetheart, keep chanting for me… maybe those nosey maids can hear how well you're taking me." His words made you melt and only cry out more. Pushing your hips up so he could reach unbelievably deep. 

  You never thought it before, but the thought that just beyond the door, your moans and lewd noises could be heard. Making the other maids burn with envy that it wasn't them being fucked by the handsome master of the house. 

  "That's a good girl, taking my cock so well and so pretty." He kissed your neck again and practically growled as you let out a mewl of pleasure. You could feel him twitch inside your walls, begging for a release. 

  His hand tangled into your hair, pulling you back and kissed you harshly as he stuffed himself as far as he could go and came. 

  Flooding your fucked out hole with his hot seed. He remained buried inside even as some began to squirt out and run down your legs. 

  Fuma rested his head on your back. Kissing it softly through your clothes as you came down from your high. 

  He pulled out of your gaping pussy, clenching onto nothing and making you whine. The mix of cum and your juices leaked out, making an even bigger mess onto the desk and floor. 

  Having a little mercy, he placed a finger in your cunt to give you something to hold on to. "Good girl Y/n. As promised, you will be rewarded for this." He spoke so elegantly as if he hadn't just fucked you like a beast mere moments ago. 

  All you could do was nod. Your body still too tired to speak. Well, he was ever so the gentlemen, helping you get cleaned up and making sure you got home safely that night.

  And luckily he was a man of his promises, as you found your next paycheck had a pretty sizable bonus attached to it. Well, now you couldn’t wait for the next time he needed assistance.

#&team hard thoughts #&team hard hours #&team smut #andteam smut #&team x reader #&team fuma smut #fuma smut #fuma x reader #andteam fuma smut #andteam fuma #&team fuma

[fireflowersandblood]

Letters From Home - Preview

i promised a preview so. here it is. or maybe. a first chapter. maybe. i'm not promising anything.

Pairing: Tom Bennett x f!reader

WC: 800-ish words

TWs/Warnings: strong language, adult themes

Summary: Knitting for Victory has never been bigger and Tom gets a nice, cozy package from home.

“Hey, look at this, lads!”

Tom’s head snaps up. Immediately, his lips curl into a smirk. One of the men has jumped up on a box of supplies, holding a paper in his left hand. With his right, he’s trying to ward off the poor sod who has just lost his picture. Tom can’t see what it is with all the waving about, but he’s almost entirely sure it’s a lady, maybe even a lady with very little clothing. Little else gets the men this worked up.

“Bennett, for you.”

Before he can react, a paper wrapped package has been placed in his lap. It looks almost like a wrapped Christmas gift, with the string that ties it together, and is no bigger than the Encyclopedias that Lois collected when she was younger. 

“What’s this?” Tom glances down at the package and frowns at the handwriting. It’s nothing he recognizes and he can’t think of anyone who would want to send him something. Maybe his dad, but even that seems unlikely. 

“Red Cross”, his superior explains. “Knitted socks and the like. You’re not the only one.”

Tom gives an appreciative hum and glances back down on the box. The handwriting is neat, neater than anything he could manage, and spells out his full name. To his own surprise, he runs his fingers across the letters, before he takes care to open it.

The box is filled to the brim. He finds not one, but two, pairs of navy blue socks. A matching pullover and hat, as well as a small box of hard candies in all sorts of colors. It feels strange to hold something so normal in his hands, and it reminds him of when he was smaller. His mother used to have them, he remembers, in a small tin box by the radio. She’d always give him and Lois one each, and let them pick between the fruit shaped ones.

“You got socks”, someone next to him complains, and the sigh is nothing if not envious. It makes Tom feel just a tad superior, and he immediately kicks his boots off, tears the old socks from his feet, and pulls the new pair on with a self-satisfied grin. 

“I did”, he boasts. It’s all in good fun; now that the first few months have passed, there’s not as much fighting. Everyone has seen battle one too many times to spend any time asking for trouble, even Tom. “And they’re cozy.”

Everyone close enough to have heard laughs, and Tom takes the opportunity to make sure he hasn’t missed anything. He would hate to leave another tin of candies for the rats. 

Tucked away in a corner of the box, he finds a letter. Again, with a handwriting he doesn’t recognize. Not the same as on the wrapper around the box, but something a little smaller and cleaner. He tears the envelope and is met by a sweet, light scent. It takes a moment too long to realize it must be perfume. It reminds him of the one Lois wears, and the thought makes his nose scrunch up. To take his mind off the rather unpleasant thought, he unfolds the letter.

Dear soldier,

When I’m writing this, I have no idea who you are. I might never know who you are. You, however, will know a little something about me when you’ve read this letter.

I’m the person who has made you the socks and the sweater. I hope you’ll find them useful and warm. The rationing has made it difficult to get a hold of yarn and I decided to unwind an old sweater of my father’s. I know he would much rather it be used by you.

I know our Navy must need as much as our Army, but if you have no use for two pairs of socks, perhaps you can give the second pair to a friend. I know the endless walking that the Army does tears the garments rather quickly, but two pairs might have been too much. I couldn’t help myself, when they said that the packages will be delivered to people who rarely, if ever, receive mail. I wanted you to know that there are people who think of you back home. 

The candies are made in London and remind me of my childhood. I hope it brings back pleasant memories for you, as well. 

I don’t know if people actually spray their letters with perfume, but I read it in a book once, and I thought it might lift your spirits. Pass it along and let the boys sniff it like a pair of used knickers, for all I care. 

Write, if it would please you. I would love to hear if the clothes have come to use, and make sure that you’re safe. I will pray for your safe return and a quick end to the war. 

Most love.

Tom flips the letter to find a name and an address.

“Mate, you got paper and a pen?”

#world on fire #world on fire bbc #wof bbc #tom bennett #tom bennett x reader #letters from home

[chicken-fifi]

Coping (pt 3) | Heechul (SuJu) Imagine

Pairing: Kim Heechul x Reader

Requested by @bokkibunny: Hi Fifi, I’d love to request Part 3 of the Heechul car accident reaction, please! I love the way you’re making the story go, so I don’t have any specific requests. Although maybe even though she is waking up, recovery will be long, painful, and difficult, especially because a tube in her throat is preventing her from speaking until she is fully healed, and she can’t communicate and tell Heechul how she feels about him. Thank you!

Genre: angst to fluff

Word Count: 830 words

A/n: unlike the previous part, i did not write this with a headache, but rather the beginnings or ending of a cold (and with the knowledge that it is 9:32pm and i need to be up by 5:50-6:00am to go to my practicum school). please go read part 1 and part 2 first, as well as the reaction!

Tunes: n/a

It took you three days to regain consciousness. Three full agonizing days for your family and Heechul to have to get through. As soon as Heechul had told the doctors what had occurred, they’d been pretty optimistic about the possibility of you fully waking up, yet they were still highly concerned regarding the other effects that the brain injuries you had sustained had and would continue to have on you. So far you were having difficulty breathing on your own, thus the doctors had made the decision to have you remain intubated until you regained enough strength and control to breath on your own or with the help of a different device.

There was no denying that the road to a full recovery would be a long and painful one, mentally and physically for everyone involved.

You and Heechul especially. The man had practically started living at the hospital with you, spending the time when he wasn’t changing or showering by your side, hand holding yours as he adjusted your pillows, helped bathe you, told you all about the day outside. Most importantly, professed his love for you time and time after. Something you so badly wanted to do yourself.

Since you’d heard his voice that day weeks ago confessing to you in tears, you wanted so badly to open your eyes and cup his face whispering the same words back to him. You wanted him to know you loved him just as much. But your body refused to listen to your commands. The one thing you had been able to manage to do was force your hand to squeeze his.

“Do you want to try something with me?” Heechul posed hesitantly. “I think you might like this idea if you’re up for it.”

You managed to nod, sitting up with his help as he moved the tray closer to you and placing a journal and pen on the table.

“I know your strength can vary depending on the day, but I thought we could try and communicate through writing. Work on exercising your mind and your fine motor skills?”

You looked at Heechul in mild shock. There wasn't any question that he was a smart man when he really put himself to the test, but coming up with this not only to communicate but also help with other areas that your doctors had begun to bring up was something truly moving.

As best you could, you lifted your hand from beside you and opened the journal to the first page, picking up the pen with little difficulty. You struggled to find a comfortable grip for a moment before shakily beginning to write down something on the paper. It was far from the usually neat and proper penmanship you normally had, but it was legible. Heechul angled his head to look at what you were writing, only for you to quickly block it with your other hand - an action that surprised you just as much as it did him.

“Well it’s good to see some things don’t change even after being unconscious for three days,” he grumbled before sitting in his designated seat beside you. “You keep writing and I’ll read it once you’re done.”

So you did. Slowly and shakily, you kept writing. Everything that you wanted so desperate to say to him with your voice you wrote onto the paper. You swore to yourself that once the tube that was helping you breathe was taken out - hopefully in a few days given the progress you were making with your breathing according to your doctors - you would be able to say everything written on this page to him aloud.

Setting the pen down, you looked at Heechul, reached out and tapped him - at a much slower speed might you add - and turned the journal for him to read.

You watched as his eyes flickered across the entire page taking in every letter, every word, every sentence, every paragraph with care and conviction. You swore you could see him engraving everything you’re written in his mind, committing it to memory.

You watched as his eyes welled with tears as he reached what you could only assume were the final words you’d written.

I heard everything you said and you won’t lose me. I won’t leave. I’m not going anywhere. I will always be right here by your side until you no longer wish me to be a part of your life. I love you Heechul, just as much, if not more than you love me. I love you.

He gave an airy chuckle, as he looked up from the journal and leaned over pressing a kiss to your hairline.

“I’m not letting you go, you realize that right?” he whispered. “Never ever.”I know, you wanted to say in that moment, and you would when given the chance, but for now you would bask in his closeness, closing your eyes as felt his warmth spread across your body. I know.

#kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #super junior #super junior masterlist #super junior imagines #super junior scenarios #super junior heechul #super junior kim heechul #heechul #kim heechul #heechul imagines #heechul scenarios #kim heechul imagines #kim heechul scenarios

[ssickabit]

there’s someone else in the room / yji

word count : 2714

trigger warning for heavy mentions of cheating // cw mentions of bodyweight, chubby and tattoed reader, unprotected sex (please don’t do it lol), oral (m receiving), overall smut with a little plot and a cliffhanger

All that Jeongin knows is that Chan's girlfriend has a nice back tattoo. By that he also knows she probably has other tattoos, of course. In the darkness of his room, his thoughts are only filled with her. They only met twice before because both Chan and his girlfriend are producers but nobody knows the name credited on their album is a woman. She is pretty private—not really. An instagram with that five thousand followers maybe can’t be said as a private one but she knows how to make her own platform.

The thing is, he slowly felt the same way.

The thing is, he slowly felt the same way.

The thing is, he slowly felt the same way.

Or he doesn’t really know well about that but he is sure their conversation intensifies in one month and they have been out without Chan knowing. It’s pretty slick—Jeongin got things outside his idol life and she has life beside her job as a producer, right?

Jeongin wonder if he is the one who has been talking to her like this lately. Sure, maybe this is just him.

Jeongin wonder if he is the one who has been talking to her like this lately. Sure, maybe this is just him.

“Where are you going with that?” Jisung's eyes looking up and down once Jeongin is out from his room. He dressed nicely. It’s super unusual for both of them but this isn’t Jeongin if he can’t answer Jisung’s question easily.

“One of my friends invited me to her party,” he answered, “I wanted to stay at home but I got Yedam with me.”

Of course, the name mentioned will be there with him. “Alright,” Jisung answered, “don’t be too late. You might as well be locked outside.”

“I got my keys.”

Stepping outside, Jeongin reached for his phone then called the number on the top of his recent calls. That familiar number with the name the band is familiar with—Chan’s girlfriend. “Hi,” Jeongin greeted once the call picked up.

“Hey, so… should I pick you up?” he heard her over the place, “but can you go to the convenient store? I am afraid I got recognised or something.”

He completely understands in that part, both of them should be out in privacy but in this case they’re saving their own selves. So he goes just as she ordered, wondering how long it will take to wait for her alone in his place.

“Welcome, welcome,” she said as she opened her door, welcoming the guy behind her. She showed him where to sit then said, “do you want anything before we have our dinner?”

He sat politely, just like a little kid and smiled from his place. “Nothing. Thank you.”

She nodded and he watched her take off her leather jacket. Jeongin’s breathing almost stopped as his gaze locked to the view, slowly but surely as the jacket was off he could see the tattoo on her sleeve. This is the first time Jeongin has seen her with a tank-top. Maybe that’s more convenient for her to wear less clothes underneath her jacket. She caught him staring, so she asked. “Anything wrong?”

“No… it’s just,” he gulped. “You’re so cool.”

“Thanks,” she giggled. The sound tickling Jeongin’s ear. He wanted to hear that again.

“Noona.”

“Hm?”

“Is it okay if I say this?”

“Yeah, of course. What is it?”

“This is my first time seeing you with that…” he told her, “But you look so good by the way.”

She knew what he meant—she is always out with a hoodie or just simply a shirt that is much bigger than usual. She smiled sheepishly in response. “Thank you. It’s nice to hear it, you know, since I am considered bigger than anyone else. By the way, dinner’s ready!”

Jeongin knows she is older than him and she is so cool. She’s surprising. Her place is neat, so it does add some plus points to this “why (y/n) noona is cool” list made by Yang Jeongin. This is why Chan hyung likes her. Jeongin wanted to help her clean the table but she refused. It was a nice cook.

Jeongin didn’t know how this started but having her standing between his legs as he sat on her couch is making him nervous. She looked into his eyes directly as she stroked his hair. “You got stars in your eyes Jeongin,” she said, making him giggle. “And your hair is so soft.”

She kissed the top of his nose making him scrunch it in response.

“Why don’t you sit on my lap, noona?”

It caught her by surprise of course. She blinked several times then said, “I’m heavy, Jeongin.”

“No I promise you it will be alright,” he replied, “just do it.”

Just as she sat on the top of him, his heartbeat began to quicken. Relax, Jeongin, he would say to himself, you’re gonna annoy her. “Are you okay?” he asked.

“Yeah, you?”

“I am all okay, I just want to make you comfortable,” he answered.

A heart creeped through her cheeks as she caressed his cheeks. Seems like the younger underneath her is so easy to please—look at how he melts easily into her touch. “You’re so cute, I wanna kiss you bad Jeongin,” she whispered.

“Then what are you waiting for?”

She leaned closer and Jeongin can feel her breathing on his face. Their lips finally met. But it was just a light peck. It shocked Jeongin more than he can imagine, but it was cute. He pouted after.

“Why?” She asked with a giggle.

“I thought you were gonna kiss me.”

“I kissed you!” She laughed, “wasn’t it a kiss?”

Jeongin furrowed her eyebrows then leaned closer. He cupped her face then kissed her again. Something is bursting inside her chest as her lips move along with his lips. Jeongin’s lips tasted like the first wine she opened after a long day. She can feel his hand roaming around her back then stopping around her waist. Jeongin pulls out to catch his breath just to say, “that’s a kiss.”

It began to get heated as they could feel each other’s taste on each other’s tongue, and it caught her by surprise the way Jeongin would bite her bottom lip. Mouth felt so warm around his and he whimpered. She grinded on him slowly, making him choked on his own words. “Noona-“

She shushed him down, hand trailing down his torso as she opened his button one by one. Her lips never leave his skin, kissing him carefully. He jolted to the feeling of her teeth grazing his neck—he breathed nervously. “This, off,” she whispered.

Jeongin made her let out an inaudible gasp as he took off his shirt. He does have this body sculpted by gods. She dragged her fingers on his torso just to see him closing his eyes with a little whimper in response.

“Please.”

“Please what?“

“Just do anything you want noona,” Jeongin answered.

She shifted from her place to make her way to his clothed cock. Jeongin gulped, watching her move so cautiously so she could feel what it felt like in her hand. He is hard. He is aching for her, it’s true. When she was about to pull down the zipper, she asked. “Are you really okay with everything I am going to do to you?”

“I can say stop every time I want to?”

“Of course, Jeongin.”

“Sure, keep going, noona.”

He was hard. She looked up for the second time, only to see the best view above her as she kneeled. At the first time she saw Jeongin she was super convinced he is a sex symbol but looked so fuckable also. His eyes that can tear someone in one look and those beautiful fingers. God, she imagined how good it was inside her walls as she saw him run his fingers through his hair. Now she is just one touch away from having his cock inside her mouth as the younger practically squirms underneath her touch.

A soft kiss was planted on his tip—it was so ready for her. Jeongin chest raising and falling as she licked a stripe on his cock. The swirl of her tongue made him go crazy but she was a little bit mean. “Noona… please don’t tease,” he whispered.

Jeongin swore he hated that smirk on her face; he had seen it twice in his entire life, once when she listened to the track she made in the studio (it was hot of course) and once when she was about to take him whole into her mouth. She granted his wish, making him gasp in his place. She didn’t waste her time to make him weak under her mercy even more. When she looked up, she saw him throwing his head back on the couch, lips parted as his breathing raged.

His voice was getting louder as she bobbed her head until his tip crushed the back of her throat; releasing the wet cock from her mouth only to stroke it with her hand after.

“N-noona,” Jeongin whined as she made a circle gesture with her thumb on his tip. A huff left his mouth while she didn’t stop to pleasure him. “S-stop, please-“

She looked up to him then asked, “anything happened? Did I hurt you?”

“No,” he pouted, “it’s just I don’t wanna cum yet.”

She smirked. “Well.”

“Kiss me.”

She nodded. He helped her get up then kissed her hard. Not too long after that, she is already straddling his lap, mouth tasting each other as she grinds herself on his thighs. “Wanna please you,” Jeongin said as his hand rubbed over her panties, “wanna please you, can I, noona?”

She nodded and said, “I need your cock in me, Jeongin.”

“But noona, I don’t have any condom on me-“

“I’m on pills, I am clean,” she sounded so out of breath.

“So we don’t-we don’t use-“

“Yes, how about that?”

Jeongin cursed under his breath because this is maybe exactly the very first time he does it raw but he already got her consent to do this. “Jeongin, are you okay?”

Looking at the worry on his face, she cupped his face so he can look her in her eyes. “Tell me, sweetheart.”

“This is my first time…”

“Oh, really-“

“No I mean—going raw,” his voice faded in the end, making her giggle. She leaned to give him a light peck which made him smile. She told him even if this is his first time it’s very okay; he can tell anything and he can stop her anytime he wants.

So she positioned herself as she stroked him again, only to receive his heavy breathing. Slowly but surely she makes his tip in contact with her folds, then sliding inside it in one quick movement. “J-jeongin,” her breathing is shaking as she feels him filling her very well. Jeongin puts his hands on her back, roaming over it because he doesn’t know how to respond to this pleasure.

“You can move noona,” he whispered to her ear.

“Wanna feel you a little bit more,” she answered, voice so needy, “Jeongin—fuck, you’re so big.”

He kissed her shoulder to sooth her away, letting his ego fall because he doesn’t wanna rush things out. Jeongin can feel how her walls are taking him in and he wonders if she can feel him throbbing for her. She asked if she could keep going and Jeongin nodded quickly.

“Fuck,” he muttered at the very first second. Fuck she feels so good, he thought to himself, fuck fuck fuck. His mind is somewhere else as she is bouncing on the top of him, slowly taking off her bra just to expose her tits. He immediately cupped those with his hands then rolled his fingers on her nipples. She bites her lower lip and closes her eyes. He can feel her walls clutching on his cock as she keeps going with her pace.

Jeongin grabbed her hips just after he sucked on her nipples. “Don’t I fit perfectly in you noona?” His voice breathless, “am I doing good?”

“You’re doing good Jeongin,” her voice is an octave higher and it boosts up his ego again.

“Do you know that you feel so good around me? You’re so warm, so tight.”

“Ah, Jeongin-“

“Noona you’re so dirty,” he spanked her ass and he could hear her hiss in response. “You feel like heaven, noona.”

But this doesn’t really mean she can’t hear how cute he sounded underneath her, in fact, his hoarse moans are turning her on even more. The more she bounced herself on his dick, the more of their sound vanished and replaced by the lewd and wet sound coming from the penetration. He holds her close as he hides himself on the crook of her neck. “N-noona I feel so good, keep going,” he moans, his hItting the spots inside of her. “Taking me so well, so perfect…”

Jeongin felt like his heart dropped when she stopped her movements, so he asked, “Are you okay? Did I hurt you.”

She shook her head no. “Can we-can we switch positions? I am tired.“

Jeongin laughed and it sounded a little too cute for her. “Anything for you. Would you like to lay on your back for me?”

She did just like what he ordered her to do. He lets her get comfortable first then picks up her legs as he positioned himself. Jeongin didn’t stop there, he kissed the inside of her thighs and sent chills to her body. “You’re so pretty,” Jeongin muttered, “ready?”

She nodded.

It was easy to put it back inside. He let go of her legs so he can set the slow pace first. Their gaze meets as he thrust his hips into her—this awakens something inside of him so he goes faster. Their moans collide into the room as he lifts her legs up again and rests it on his shoulders. He did that, she thought, he fucking did that.

He isn't afraid to let out some words that make her go crazy. “Yeah? You like that noona?” as he holds her legs up.

“You’re so deep-“

“I thought so,” the confidence inside of him is kicking in again. A cocky grin was drawn all over his face. From this angle not only he can see her chest rising and falling but also the visible tattoo on her collarbone—snake. “Doesn’t that hurt noona?”

“Huh?” She looks up to him even though he is still thrusting into her.

“You tattoo,” he panted, “collarbones.”

It’s a hard question to answer when his tip can reach the spots. “Y-yeah. Little bit—fuck-“

“Ngh, noona-“

He decided to let go of her legs, instead, he told her to wrap it on his waist as he continued his movement. By this position they can share a kiss and eat each other’s moans. He rested his face on the crook of her and breathed her scent in. His whimpers and desperate moans are filling her ear perfectly.

“Jeongin?”

“Hng?“

“I’m close honey, do you feel it too?”

So this is why his pace is getting sloppy and everything just feel so food for him. “Yes noona-where should I cum?”

“Inside please, Jeongin,” she begged, “want you to fill me up.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah Jeongin, fuck, so close-“

Her hand is going to his hair and he gripped onto it a little too much so it’s stinging. He doesn’t really mind because everything is just too intense as he reaches his peak. The repetition of her name falls from his mouth and he spilled his seed inside of her. A lewd moan of “noona” was the last thing he said before he can hear her high-pitched moan as she reached her peak too.

Jeongin rested his head there for some of the moment before his phone rang. He takes a glance over it as the monitor shows “Channie Hyung” name on it.

#stray kids smut #skz smut #skz hard hours #stray kids hard hours #jeongin smut #yang jeongin smut

[daychiie]

For the manga ask: 1, 11 and 17

HIIII HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!

AND ALSO THANKS FOR NOT ONLY SENDING ME A ASK BUT SENDING ME THIS TWICE SINCE I ACCIDENTALLY BLOWED UP THE FIRST TIME TEEHEE <3 <3 <3 odeio escrever coisa pelo celular augghh

Anyway I'm answering those questions here!!!

1. Your top 5 reads of 2023

Meme for symmetry lol

No Home - NO HOME MY BELOVED MY BESTIE NO HOME,HOW IT CAN BE SO WELL WRITTEN IT MAKES ME INSANE BRO... COMICS OF ALL TIME. I have no words to explain... I do want one day stop being a coward and write out some analysis on it, buuut--oh well~~

Dungeon Meshi - I got into the party almost "too late". Well, I don't really believe that starting something after if finished is getting into it too late,but I do get that you lose some experiences if you get into something late than other... And in my case I got into it some weeks before it officially ended lmao. Always heard about it and finally gave a try, it's extremely funny and charming, can't wait for the anime this week :]

Gekkan Shoujo Nozaki-kun - I saw the anime back when it was releasing, enjoyed it and...that was it. Hoped for season two (kinda still wish for it),but yeah... Then finally said fuck it and OHH IT GETS SO MUCH BETTER. LIKE ITS NOT THAT THE ANIME IS BAD BY ANY MEANS BUT WELL...it only covered one part of it and it always keep getting funnier and funnier! Wakamatsu is so much more insane and dumb... The characters we never got to met there. I do have some issue here and there but in general I have a pretty fun time :]

Ikoku Nikki - yeah maybe sometimes see that something gonna end next week really pushes me to read it lol. Anyway I do want to re read again sometime soon,but it was a very emotional read!! Makio women of all time, a aro icon <3 she everything!!!!

After School Lessons for Unripe Apples - another fun read!!! Don't think I have too much thoughts but I really enjoy Mi-ae and Cheol dynamic <3

Just making clear that in this top 5 I put stuff I started reading in 2023,so like ... No Skip to Loafer here lol even thought I enjoyed the new chapters that were released in 2023,in the rules my head made it didn't count lmao.

11. Your favorite covers

Suddenly I actually never read anything in 2023 :) GJJSAJFN ok guess Hirayasumi covers are very neat!!! I love the painting of it.

But yeah I noticied I remember chapter covers much more than I remember volume covers, so originally I was going to show some of my favorite chapter covers...but then 10 photos limit. Even thought I was sure nowdays is 30 idk if its because I'm stuck in mobile but whatever,I spend two hours looking covers on my phone I gonna show it on a rb or something lmao

17. A manga you didn’t expect to like

Hmnm ... I don't remember lmao. Like at least not anything that I felt that extremely "omg what pleasant surprise!!!!!" ? The best I could think of is kisses x kiss x kisses that ...well does have a cringe name that kinda put you expectations at low I guess lol

It's nothing amazing, it's a finished romance comic, that is very sweet. I liked the contrast of the protagonist and his love interest being like, boy with big family all living together and boy that lives alone with parents in another country lol. It is a cliche and not gonna pretend they do anything groundbreaking with it, but it's still a nice storyline. Lowkey big spoilers ahead I guess but: I liked that while the protagonist dream of living completely alone changed a little (cause come on its a fluffy romance lol), he still got separates room cause he does want be able to experience and enjoy not sharing a room,having more privacy and stuff. It's kinda small overall, but it's nice that his dream and his goals didn't do a complete change because of love.

#daychiie talks #my laptop giving up on me on new years...so sad... aug aguhhh #PORRA MANO ESCREVER PELO CELULAR FAZ EU ME SENTIR NUMA JAULA AUGHHRNFJSJSJ #but yeay thanks for the ask wawhahwh #now i only have other of those to reply hehe #i feel kinda bad talking so much lol

[deep-fried-egg]

Here’s a little snippet of my new ficcc

Warnings: transphobia, sexism, period talk, cursing, 13 year olds talking about genitals 😭, this is basically just k-12 except it’s a r insert

4k+ words

@jeonkio05 won 😣

I woke up in my all pink room to the sound of my alarm blaring in my ears, as I sat up I thought 'Wait, what was my dream again?' I get out of bed as my thoughts continue. 'I remember feeling trapped in rising heat and there were plastic or… cardboard cut-outs all around me? And my gums roots were pushing out my teeth and the voice of a thousand angels said to me, "It's temporary."

'Maybe that should be my new mantra as I step into what will inevitably be the worst years of my life.' I walk over to my calendar and I draw a red heart around the wretched day that it is. The first day of hell.

'Ah yes, off to a world in which girls are only to wear pink dresses and boys blue pants. Well, I dyed my uniform and embroidered flowers on the sleeves.' I open my walk-in closet door. 'Speaking of, I should probably change into my uniform right now… Nah, that shits itchy. It can wait.'

I step into my bathroom and I look into my mirror as I brush my half black half pastel rainbow streaked hair with my jade green hair brush with a golden heart on the back. 'Oh yeah, and in my dream, you know when the air below me was sucking my teeth out of their sockets, I noticed that my front two teeth stayed and the gap between them just kept getting larger and larger… How's that even possible? I know, right?' I squirt toothpaste on my baby blue toothbrush and I brush my teeth, after a few seconds I spit it out and I place the brush back on the counter as I step out of my bathroom and I head through my room into the kitchen.

'I wish my mom wasn't passed out right now and could at least drive me to the bus stop…' I grab my "alpha bites crunch" cereal and a bowl. I shook the box to get cereal out but instead I was surprised by my spider, Phillipe. "Phillipe? What are you doing in there? Don't scare me like that" I exclaimed as I watched Phillipe crawl on the dining room table.

'What was that angel's name again? Was it Willy or Layla? No, I think it was Lilith.'

Kindergarten. Wheels on the bus

The pink school bus with a blue interior picked me up at the stop and I chose to sit next to my best friend Angelita but it quickly got way too loud in the bus. I watched the bus driver drink from a flask as he continued driving to the sleepaway school.

"I feel so sick…" I spoke to Angelita. "I can't believe we have to do this." she responded. "Do you think we'll make any friends?" I asked as I looked at her in her brown eyes, "I hope so, but at least we have each other."

"That's true." I said with a sigh.

I heard the girls behind me laugh at each other before a pink paper airplane got thrown directly at my head. I turned toward the dyed blue boy who threw it before Angelita picked up the paper airplane and she read the text within before she turned around and yelled at them, "Real mature!"

"What does it say?" I asked, before she could tell me I leaned over and I read the neat handwriting on the paper. It read: "Gap toothed bitch."

I frowned after I read it, but my sadness only got worse when the kids behind me started mocking me…

"Awww does the bunny rabbit need some tissues?" Kelly, my blond bully with shoulder length hair and blue eyes teased.

"Its okay, don't listen to them. They're just plastic bullies." Angelita tried to comfort me but the kids behind me were too loud. Their bullying was getting to me. They were all standing up and saying "Wah wah, Cry baby." which was definitely making fun of my name, Cry Baby.

I silenced all of the hate in my mind so it wouldn't get to me anymore than it already did.

'This… Is K-12.'

-

All the chatter simmers down as the bus gets to our stop. Me and Angelita watch everybody file out of the bus and into the clean white school. We wait until everyone is out before we get up and leave the bus.

As we walk into the dark blue doors of the school a big bell on the very top of the school rings, showing that it's almost class time so me and Angelita push open the doors that were 2 times the size of our 5 year old bodies.

First grade Class fight

As we walk through the halls, littered with statues and paintings of ghosts and mystical creatures of the unknown I strike up a conversation with my friend.

"I don't know why people are so scared of death." I said nonchalantly. "I agree!" She replied, "It's just another part of life."

"You start in the womb, and you end in the tomb."

Angelita laughed as I said that, but then she asked me a question that made me think. "Wait a second… Where is everybody?" I hum in response, I didn't know either.

I changed the topic of the conversation, "I don't know if it's just because it's cold in here… but I'm getting kind of a… creepy chill down my back." I said. "I love it!" me and Angelita said in unison.

The second we turned around some ghost in a white victorian style dress and her hair tied up walked straight through the right wall to the left wall behind us. We turned around just in time to catch a glimpse of the ghost, we sped up the stairs after that.

"What even was that!?" Angelita yelled, "Scary." I replied before sighing. "What's the room number again?" Angelita spoke quietly this time, "222…" I nodded.

We looked in front of us before reading the room numbers in unison.

"221…223…" Then we looked at the door in front of us, "222…" We stare at each other then we enter the room. Officially becoming students at the worst rated school in the country.

-

The teacher immediately scolded us when we entered the room. "Class! Would you like to inform Cry Baby and Angelita of what rule they did not follow today?

"When the bell rings you must be in your assigned seat." the entire class said in a bored tone.

"Are you deaf?" The teacher asked, "Sit down!"

"Sorry Ms. Daphne." Both me and Angelita said at the same time before we rushed to our seats and we sat down.

As soon as we sat down the announcements started going off so the entire class stood up, except for one boy. Henry.

"All rise" Ms. Daphne said as she walked around the room with her ruler pointed towards the class.

The teacher glared at him before speaking, "On your feet." Ms. Daphne insisted.

The pledge started, "I pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States Of America…"

"I'm being generous with you boy." Ms. Daphne warned, "Last chance to stand and show some respect." She finished while glaring at Henry.

"with liberty and justice for all." The pledge ended.

Henry shook his head before stating, "You hear that? Liberty and justice for all? That's a lie." Henry said before scoffing.

Ms. Daphne stomped over to her desk and she pressed a button which called the detention crew over to escort Henry out of the room.

The door slammed open and identical men with shaved brown hair and full beards wearing gray full body uniforms stormed into the room. "Grab the boy!" One of them yelled before they picked up Henry from under his arms, near his armpits and they started dragging the young boy out of the room.

"Get off of me!" Henry yelled while kicking, trying to escape the strong mens grip, "I didn't do anything!" His voice slowly faded away as they dragged him out of the room and slammed the door shut.

I was scared by this so I stayed quiet the rest of class until Brandon, my crush, turned around and tapped my shoulder asking for my eraser. Of course I handed it to him as soon as he asked.

Kelly saw all of it. She saw her boyfriend since kindergarten tapping my shoulder and asking me a question. Of course she got jealous so she wrote me a little note on a piece of pink paper.

She threw me the note in a crumpled up ball, it landed in front of me on my desk. She giggled to her friend as I opened it. The note read: "You at recess” And a drawing stick man dead in front of a grave right under that.

I crumpled up the paper again and I threw it back down on my desk before I continued drawing on my piece of paper.

-

Soon enough it was nap time and the desks were moved to make room for little, uncomfortable mattresses and sleeping bags on the floor.

I tucked myself in but not before nodding at angelita, mutually agreeing to use our powers to make a little fort. I crawl around until I find my friend.

The fort looks a little more like a cave as the tunnels are thin, but it's cozy.

Finally, we found each other. "There you are!" Angelita whispered with an excited tone in her voice.

"How do they expect us to sleep in there?" I complained, sitting down on the mattress in our little fort.

"I don't know…" She said before yawning, "I am kinda sleepy though."

"Well, wake up." I began, "I got that thrown at my head." I said as I tossed Angelita the crumpled up note.

As she uncrumpled the paper her expression slowly turned to one of shock. "Who drew this?" She asked, "That girl kelly…" I sighed, "I think she's trying to rip my head off or something."

"Well what are you going to do?" My friend inquired, "You've gotta defend yourself."

"I can't defend myself! I don't know how to fight, I just, I don't even know how to do th-" Angelita cut me off by slapping me across the face. Hard.

I put my hand over the place she slapped, "Ow!"

"Hold it together girl." She replied, I scoffed at her before she continued, "We are capable of doing whatever we want." She stated before using her powers to start a flame in the palm of her hand, she held it in front of me.

I shook my head in disagreement, I produced water in my hand to put out the mini fire she started.

"I can't, that's cheating!" I commented which made her sigh and bring her hand back to where it originally was.

"Do you really think we would have these abilities if we weren't supposed to use them?"

"I don't know. I just feel like I'd have an unfair advantage."

"Well, I don't know. Why don't you call your mom and ask her what she thinks you should do?”

"My mom?" I asked, to which she hummed in agreement. "No, it's okay… She's… Probably sleeping right now and honestly I don't think she'd even pick up the phone."

Angelita used her powers to produce a white dial-up phone out of nothing, she placed it on the mattress in front of me, she picked up the phone and she handed it to me.

I sighed then took it then dialed the phone and I called my mom.

"She's not going to pick up."

"Let's see"

-

It's now recess time, I would be lying if I said I wasn't absolutely terrified for my safety so I decided to sit on the grass with my friend and wait it out.

"Did you see what she was wearing?" I heard Kelly say, obviously I was going to snoop on this conversation… I mean it's juicy and I'm only human.

"Like, it was embarrassing for everyone, and like, I told her! I was trying to be helpful, I gave her advice, I was like 'That's ugly!'" I got distracted from the conversation Kelly was having when Brandon, Kelly's boyfriend, sat next to me.

I turned my head and I looked him in the eyes with a big smile before tuning back into Kelly's conversation.

"And she just… She took it like personally, she was getting all mad about it. I was like I'm helping you.-" I watched as one of Kelly's "Friends” tapped on her shoulder. "Hey, Kelly?” The girl asked, "Stop!” Kelly slapped the girl's hand away. "Don't interrupt me.”

I see one of the girls that was with Kelly pointing at my little group so I act like I was just talking to Angelita and Brandon and not listening to their conversation, but it looks like they were just pointing out the fact that Brandon is with me.

"Are you even listening to me?" Kelly asked her friends before looking where they were pointing, making her look directly into my eyes as I talked to her boyfriend.

Kelly stormed towards us, pushing people out of the way so she could get to us faster. People gathered around us as she punched me directly in the face so i'd be on the ground. When my back hit the ground she sat on top of my legs, keeping me down, and she punched me in the face multiple times.

The kids all around us were chanting 'FIGHT!’ as she was doing this, obviously it got to her because she pulled a dagger out of her dress pocket and she held down my arm and cut it open on the inside of my arm right above my elbow.

I couldn't take the pain anymore so I activated my powers as Angelita told me to do, the leaves started floating because I made both me and Kelly float.

Kelly screamed “What are you doing?” as I did this. She was terrified, it was working. She looked around and she yelled again, “Put me down you freak!”

I used my powers to extend my braids and choke her with them, she grabbed my braids as they were all she could hold onto.

I saw Angelita looking up at the scene while smiling because I'm finally defending myself, but everyone else was gasping and covering their mouths in shock.

When Kelly gasped for air I finally let her go. It was perfect timing too because the vice principal came out and almost saw what happened.

-

It turns out I wasn't sneaky. The vice principal was dragging us by our ears to her office.

"Who would've thought that young ladies like would-” She started to scold us but Kelly interrupted her, "My mom spent good money getting these ears done!” When she said that the vice principal let go of our ears. "You have really blown it this time! Sit down!” After we heard that, me and Kelly sat down. “I mean it.” The woman whispered.

‘I shouldn't have lost control like that.’ I thought, ‘She's not a bad person, she's just… Projecting her insecurities on me.’ I thought, I rested my chin on my hand as I sat.

Soon I got bored and I used my powers to see what's happening in the principal's office…

I saw a woman with short blue hair sitting, waiting for the principal to talk to her. Actually, I believe it was Ms. Harper.

The principal sat in front of her, taking a puff from a cigar before speaking.

"You said you're… Dressing as a woman now?” The principal asked.

"Yes, I'm transitioning.” Ms. Harper replied, "Transitioning…” The principal laughed before continuing, "You know I can't let you influence the children with this ridiculous behavior.” Ms. Harper gasped as the principal spoke.

“And from now on you want us to address you as…?”

"Ms. Harper, correct.” The vice principal laughed at her, “The kids really connect with me, I love my job and I'd really love to stay! But I need to be my most authentic self! I AM a woman!” Ms. Harper said, the principal frowned at this and he exclaimed, "Mr. Harper you're fired!”

-

I came back into reality and I saw Kelly staring at some kid that was eating glue by the handful, his hair was spiked up into two horn-like spikes and he was hunched over next to Kelly.

I look away from the disgusting display and instead I watch the kid next to me open a clear bottle of pink pills.

"What are those?” I asked him, and he immediately replied. "He forces us to take these pills. Each color is a different dosage. I'm on pink, which is the lightest dose.” He swallows the pill without water.

"Why is he forcing medication on everyone?” I asked, "...To control us." The boy said with a small smile. "So we can’t leave.” He finished.

The kid next to Kelly continued to absolutely destroy the glue, he was sucking on his fingers, making loud mouth noises. "That's disgusting!” Kelly exclaimed, the kid frowned and put the glue container down.

Fourth grade Nurses office

After the show and tell in my last class I had to go to the nurses office, but the nurses were not exactly healing my wounds. Instead they were cutting my hair and drugging me up… I knew this school would be bad but I never thought it would be this bad.

But luckily my guardian angel Lilith saved me and angelita from the torture that we faced in the nurses office.

"Wait! Why are you leaving us here?” Angelita asked the angel, I added onto her statement, "We need to come with you…”

Lilith smiled at us and she spoke, "Continue on, And live your truth.” She paused, "Do not hold fear in your heart.” Lilith finished.

"Please, we don't want to die here…” I mumbled.

"You've had many bodies before this, and you will continue to have more.” Lilith stated, "You're immortal.”

"But we're exhausted…” Angelita whispered.

"We don't want to feel this anymore” I agreed

"We must feel the physical pain of this world, because the only way we can truly learn is through experience.” Lilith said, I pouted, "Please…” I said in a shaky voice.

Lilith turned away from us and she walked back into the door she came out of, that door sunk into the ground.

-

I sighed as I walked through the hallways with my best friend, I looked at all of the statues and paintings on the walls.

“Oh no…" Angelita said, “I'm going to be late for class." She sighed. "Who cares at this point.” I laughed.

"True” She agreed

“I'm so exhausted…” I complained to her, she nodded and said, "Same.”

Suddenly beautiful music played by an orchestra came into hearing rage. "Do you hear that?” Angelita asked, “I do!” I excitedly said as I walked with Angelita towards the sound.

Angelita pointed towards a huge, fancy looking door. “It's coming from over there!” Angelita said excitedly. We walked towards the oud music and we pressed our ears against the large white door with a golden door handle.

"Should we check it out?” I asked, “Yeah!” Angelita responded, “Okay…” I said as I put my hand on the door handle, preparing to open it. Angelita put her hand on the door handle too and she spoke, “Okay count on three… One, Two…Three!” We opened the door to see a big luxurious ballroom with what looked like almost a hundred ghosts of all shapes and sizes slow dancing with each other.

We looked around the ballroom for a few seconds until… I sneezed. I ruined the entire moment with just one sneeze. The music stopped and the ghosts let go of each other and turned to look at us.

Angelita waved at the ghosts, "Hello! You all look… Ravishing!” She said, “Bewitching even." I added, it only made the ghosts madder as they yelled and ran at us with their arms reaching towards us.

Both me and Angelita ran behind the doors and we hurriedly pushed them shut with all that was in us. As soon as we closed it we heard clawing and knocking against the door so we decided to leave.

“We should get to class!" I said

“Y-yeah…” She stuttered, still in shock because of the events that just occurred

“See you!

"Yeah, see you later!”

fifth grade. Drama club

"Tragedy, and comedy. Two sides of the same dramatic coin!” My drama teacher said as I walked into the theater. "And we are going to be exploring both in this play." He put his hand on his hip and he watched me try to go to my seat.

“Even the late comers." He said sternly as I sat down. Everyone turned towards me for absolutely no reason. I guess they're just nosy. They turned back around when the teacher started speaking again.

“Alright everyone, please turn to your scripts, turn to page 2 and find the role to which you've been assigned.” His accent really shone through as he spoke this sentence, this guy is extremely animated.

When I saw my role I raised my hand, "Right, so about that… Um… Is it possible to get assigned a different role? Maybe one that's not so domestic? Like a film director, or the president of the United states?” I asked, he shot down my question with this answer, “A harlot perhaps?” Everyone laughed at his joke but I didn't. I just sat in my chair with a frown.

The boy in front of me turned around and just added salt to the wound. "President? What a joke. Your kind are too soft and too sensitive to handle a man's job.”

"Having a larger capacity to feel and express emotion are one of the many qualities that make us SUPERIOR to your kind.” I replied with a smile.

-

When the time came to perform the show I ended up putting a clothes iron to the boy that said that thing to me a couple weeks ago's face. I then yelled at the audience that was obviously being brainwashed with those pills that the boy was telling me about so I made an attempt to snap them out of it.

"You're being brainwashed! Can't you see what's happening? Open your eyes!” The guards that my teacher had watching the show grabbed my arms and tried to pull me off the stage.

"Get off of me! Get off!" I yelled as they pulled my arms.

"WAKE UP!” I yelled at the audience before using my power to push the security guards off of me which also caused the kids to snap out of it.

They all ran out of the theater, including Angelita, so I came with them. I opened the door to the principal's office and everyone ran into the room and to his desk. They fought off the nurses and the rabbit-men (Men with rabbit heads, obviously.) and they all went around the principals desk, grabbing him and ripping his limbs off.

I smirked as I watched them tear his body apart with just their hands. Afterwards the janitor swept his torn off body parts away and into the garbage disposal.

Sixth grade Strawberry shortcake

I met a girl earlier named Y/n and I was about to play tennis with her but we had to bury the principal first. Luckily me and my best friend in the whole world were almost done so I can hang out with admittedly the cutest girl I've seen in a while.

We saw her writing in her green journal while walking along the path that extends from the school to the playground.

y/n pov:

"Y/n! Wait up!” Cry baby yelled as she ran up to me, Cry baby's hair was tied up into buns, I think it makes her look cute. I honestly don't know how she didn't realize that I like her yet since I've always been incredibly clingy towards her ever since we met.

"Did you find a place to dump the principal?” I asked, Angelita nodded and Cry baby responded to my question, "Yeah, just did it. Done deal.”

-

We sat on the pink and blue tennis court in the middle of the courtyard with our rackets up, me and Cry Baby hit the ball back and forth while Angelita read a magazine called "TEEN QUEEN" on the sidelines.

Suddenly Angelita said something slightly odd, "Did you guys know that there are actually 2 holes down there?" I was confused so I asked, "You didn't know you had a butthole?” which made Cry Baby giggle.

"No! There's two separate holes.” Angelita said, "Are you sure?” Cry Baby asked and Angelita just said "Mhm!”

"Then I think I need to go to a doctor!” Cry Baby said, but I wasn't paying attention. I was focused on the fact that when Angelita blew a bubble it encased the ball in a bubble and it's now floating away.

"Hey! Hey guys!” I exclaimed but neither of them were paying attention to my words. They were still talking about the earlier topic. "Hey guys!” I repeated but nope. Still nothing.

“Oh! I get it now! So one hole you can pee out of and another-” Cry Baby began but i just tuned their conversation out. "Why does nobody listen to me?” I whispered to myself, "Guys the ball is floating away!” They finally heard me and they turned around to see that the ball literally was floating away.

“Oh!” Angelita exclaimed before quickly getting up and chasing the ball with Cry Baby. I ran after it with them too, "The ball!” I laughed.

“I feel like we're going the wrong way.” Cry Baby said as she tried to find the pink tennis ball with us. Luckily it popped, but it didn't fall towards us. Instead, it fell in front of a boy that was reading a book.

He picked up the ball and he handed it to us when we ran over. He seemed nice.

Cry Baby pov: (Again) Also, seventh grade, Lunchbox friends

I opened my eyes to see a sky full of beautiful shining stars and the voice of Lilith all around me. I spoke to her, Lilith said, "What's wrong my dear?” As I laid on the dirt ground, holding back tears.

I sighed, “I just don't want to do this anymore…” I whined, “I don't wanna feel this pain and I dont wanna be here on Earth…” I frowned as I watched the stars flicker in the sky. "Please just take me with you…” I paused, “I just wanna be up there!” I listened to my voice echo as I spoke.

"The greatest power we will hold is that of acceptance. Any storm you face will transform itself into a crystalline rainbow in divine timing.” Lilith spoke, afterwards i closed my eyes and I stopped my daydream.

-

"Hey, you there?” Y/n asked as she grabbed my arm, I just said "Yeah.” As I continued walking up the spiral stairs with her and Angelita.

Angelita clutched her stomach as she walked up the stairs with us which only made us confused. “Are you okay?” I asked my best friend as she headed up the stairs.

“Ugh… I feel so sick… Like this is the worst stomach pain I've ever experienced.” Angelita said then she knelt down on the last step.

Both me and y/n saw the blood on the bottom of her skirt and it became clear what was happening. She finally got her period. Me and () looked each other in the eyes and we said, “Ohhh…” In unison.

-

We opened the door to the bathroom and Angelita started to complain. “Ugh! Why right now!?”

“I mean it had to happen at some point."" Y/n pointed out. We walked up to the tampon machine and I spoke.

“It says there's one tampon left… Do either of you have any change?” I asked, turning towards them.

"No…” They both said in unison, so I channeled my powers and I opened the machine with my telekenisis.

"Yes!” Angelita whispered as it flung open. “It's empty.” I said in a disappointed tone of voice as I looked at Angelita. I slammed the door closed then spoke again, “Whatever… Who knows what kind of crazy shit is in them anyways!”

“I mean yeah… Toxic shock is real but… Tampons should be free.” Y/n frowned.

"What do I do now?” Angelita said with a sigh, I looked around for something but then I just said, "Toilet paper.”

Angelita made a disgusted face before just heading into the stall and going with it.

After about 3 minutes y/n got bored and decided to speak, "You good in there?” She asked Angelita to which she responded, "Yeah.”

"You sure?" She asked Angelita.

"Yeah, I'm almost done." Angelita responded

"Do you need me to get you another roll of toilet paper?

"That'd be great!”

I leaned against the wall next to the stalls as we waited for Angelita to finish up, then I said "We're gonna be late to class Y/n.”

“Ugh… Empathize with me a little!" Angelita yelled at us from inside the stall, “I'm sorry” I said as I tilted my head back, making my head hit the wall.

Angeita came out of the stall with a sweater around her waist, "Cute sweater!” Y/n said to Angelita when she saw her, "Where'd you get that from?” She asked.

“I just whipped a little something up.” I couldn't help but laugh at that. "What! I wasn't gonna walk around looking like I sat in raspberries all day.” Angelita said before the bathroom door opened and one of the nurses came in. Angelita started washing her hands as the nurse spoke to us.

The nurse bumped me with her shoulder and she scolded us, "Get back to class!” She paused before saying something under her breath “You little bitch.” She slammed the stalls door closed and we left.

#eggsub thoughts #melanie martinez after school #melanie martinez k12 #k 12 melanie martinez #melanie martinez k 12 #melanie martinez x reader #melanie martinez cry baby #melanie martinez fanart #melanie portals #melanie k12 #melanie martinez #rip cry baby #crybaby portals #i love crybaby 🥹 #crybaby k 12 #crybaby x reader #cry baby x reader #rip crybaby #cry baby #crybaby

[hope-to-hell]

No Way to get Ahead. August Walker. Allusions to death and dismemberment, nothing particularly explicit. This is a chance for August to unload a bit, in the form of a one-sided conversation with some unknown goon. Anyway, it’s not like it matters who they are. Were. Whatever.

——

Would you— just give me a minute here. Christ, the blood’s not even dry yet and you’re here with your million fucking questions. So listen, and watch, and shut your mouth while I work. It took me weeks to get here, weeks to track this fucker down and what did I get?

More questions.

More endless questions, each tied to the one before. It’s gonna be a nightmare getting this straightened out. Not like she’s gonna care. I’ve got a name and that’s good enough for her but this isn’t about Sloane, not really. Besides, the who is ephemeral. Lackeys come and bodies go and nothing ever really changes. It’s the what and the why that are giving me trouble. Something’s on the wind, something nasty even for me. There’s so much rot, you can’t help but smell it. It stinks of mildew and bile, old blood and new piss.

It smells like being buried alive.

The bitch of it is, I’m good at this. This shit about the Hammer is all smoke; I leave a few bodies for the cleaners and a little bit of intel all wrapped up nice and neat: dear Erika, I saw this and thought of you. But that’s not the good stuff. It doesn’t really matter if she has their names; they’re just meat by then. And teeth, and fingernails, and bits of viscera here and there. It’s a show, don’t you get it? I bring the goods and get a pat on the head and if I let her pull my hair a little— well, who says this can’t be fun once in a while? Besides, blood calls to blood. We’ve both got that audaciously stubborn streak; it’s what I lov—

And if I spend a little extra time in the reading rooms all by my lonesome, who’s gonna think anything of it? Secrets have a way of threading themselves through the earth, through concrete and steel til they rattle around in the walls. If you’re careful, if you’re focused, you can hear them; it’s like they want to be heard, to be caught. And it doesn’t matter if I’m seen down there. Being Erika Sloane’s pet has its advantages. I’m hers; I go where I’m ordered, so anywhere I am is right where I’m supposed to be.

The question is, friend, are you where you’re meant to be? Because I have this sneaking suspicion you’re not here out of the goodness of your heart. Maybe you’re someone’s dog too, and I can guess whose. It’s a wonder I can get anything done with the way he’s always watching and picking and being so goddamn irritating about every little thing. John, did you set the charges? Is there sparkling water in the helicopter? Are you sure the apartment isn’t bugged? You’d think I was some fresh-faced kid right out of the Academy. And if I have to hear one more word about Ethan fucking Hunt—

You know, as long as you’re here you might as well make yourself useful. Nevermind whose hand that is; it’s none of your business. Yeah, in that cooler there. Bag first, then ice. You want it to get frostbite? I would’ve taken their head, but it’s not so pretty anymore. Still, I’ll box this up all nice and neat and leave it on Sloane’s desk. She’s not much for the whole it’s the thought that counts thing, though. Might have to butter her up a little. She might see right through it, but that’s part of the fun. And you know, she tastes so sweet when she’s on the cusp of finding out.

Listen. I know Lane doesn’t much like what I do with his guys but a body’s a body and it’s not like it’s hard to pick up another angry disillusioned kid looking to get back at the world. All he has to do is tell you about a world of equals, born from the ashes; he piques your interest and sends you on a few simple errands, and before you know it you’re marching in step to his idiotic schemes. It’s hard to back out when you’ve got agency men climbing down your throat and Solomon Lane fucking you right in the ass with his wouldn’t it be a pity if somebody found out what you get up to when you’re away.

Lane and I agree on one thing at least: there’s rot in every part of this world and all we can do is burn it out. But he had to go and make it personal— he had to turn this into a dick-measuring contest against Ethan Hunt. He only has to hear the little twerp’s name and his pants are already around his ankles. Langley’s a vacation paradise by comparison. It’s all about the job: whether Erika’s dressing me down or undressing me, it’s nothing personal.

But listen. Whatever you’re doing here, whatever errand you’ve been sent on, you’re not leaving. Maybe you didn’t know the risk. It doesn’t matter. I can’t have so many of you out there knowing my face or the nature of my work. And yeah, I’m afraid that means you as well. We play a game where the rules are always changing and loyalties mean next to nothing. Like I said, the who doesn’t matter— only the why. If it makes you feel any better, that means me too. I’m just a part of the whole, one cog in a vast machine. Rebirth will come one way or another, and though I don’t want to die for the cause, it’s pretty much a given. After all, a phoenix can’t rise without burning first. You’ll just be kindling for the flame, but don’t feel too bad about it. So make it easy on yourself: hold nice and still, and I’ll make it quick.

Guess I’ll have a head to give Erika after all.

#henry cavill #august walker #august walker fic #pre canon? #maybe. #does it really matter though? #mission impossible: fallout

[itsahotminuteinbetween]

coming after witch eclipse's ass nyeheheh >:3

What’s the maximum amount of time your character can sit still with nothing to do?

What triggers nostalgia for them, most often? Do they enjoy that feeling?

What animal do they fear most?

What is their favorite number?

What embarrasses them?

*rubs my lil hands together and cackles*

1.) Maybe a minute at most. He's a very busy guy and is constantly moving around, prepping spells or leafing through old documents or researching about the pendant or conducting experiments;he doesn't have time for any recreational activities, he always has something to do, and if he doesn't then he'll make something up to occupy himself with. He can't sit with himself for very long before thoughts start to settle in and he vehemently refuses to sort through them-most of them are about KC and Eclipse's own creation and...well, let's just say there's a little apprehension in questioning oneself. This constant behavior often results in him forgetting to charge and managing by some miracle to plug in at the last second-he also doesn't eat (not that he needs to, but it does help with energy levels) and has a very large caffeine addiction, which feeds into his non-stop movement.

2.) Anything relating to his past life before KC disappeared. If it weren't for the fact that he doesn't have anywhere else to go (plus a secret fear of officially losing everything and an almost non-existent hope that KC might return), he would have burned down the house and left a long time ago. He keeps KC's room locked at all times, grabbed all the pictures and slammed them into the drawer, and basically took everything he'd owned and hid it-out of sight, out of mind. The only thing he keeps are KC's old documents about the pendant-for his research, of course (and because KC writes in a way very similar to how he speaks-thoughtful, neat, concise-Eclipse hasn't heard from him in some time.). Well, those and KC's clothes-Eclipse had outgrown his old shirts after a while and they were just sitting there, so he might as well. He does his best to ignore the stuffy smell of pine needles and charcoal, but it's still there.

3.) Snakes-after the...incident, with one of his experiments on a pendant, he developed a fear of them-but that's probably a normal reaction to finding one in your sink, your dresser, your mattress, and your favorite coffee cup. It's not a terribly large fear, however-he'll freeze for a second and then fumble around for his lazer cannons and turn the thing into mere molecules, same as any other animal. As long as it's not in his space, he doesn't really care. Most of his fears aren't animal related, anyhow.

Edit: I’ve decided he’s also a little nervous about ravens-they’re often seen as a bad omen (at least in my culture, though I never really cared cuz corvids are adorable) and he always feels a little on edge when they circle the house. Lunar likes them, though.

4.) Had to sit and think about this for a while because I don't think he'd really have a favorite, but it'd probably be 13-they used to joke that that was the number of words KC spoke a day. It's also how old he was when he cast his first spell, though that memory is somewhat soured by the aftermath.

5.) (I see what you're doing here, ehehe)

If we're talking general embarrassment or mortification-baby pictures or things from when he was younger. KC never had anyone to share his stories of Eclipse with and no one was there but him and Eclipse himself, who only remembers some of them, but this guy would actually crawl into a hole and die if his childhood was brought up. He was a very bright child, KC remembers, very chipper and carefree and different from the Eclipse we have now. Eclipse looks upon his past self with a sort of bitter scorn and envy: he was weak back then, didn't know what the world really was, easy to manipulate and easier to hurt...but he also knows that he was happier back then in spite of all of that, back when life was simpler. He tries not to dwell on the past too often-it's gone and no amount of remembrance will change anything now.

...Assuming you're close enough to him that his reaction to whatever it is isn't unbridled rage and several death threats that aren't entirely impossible to enact, working with him or doing little favors makes his non-existent heart burn: arranging his papers for him, making him a cup of coffee, ironing out a shirt, volunteering as a bouncing board for his ideas, things like that. You won't get a thank you, if that's what you're looking for-if anything, he'll probably be very gruff about it, shooing you away to mask the increasing temperature of his casing and the steam coming out of his fans. And if you're confident enough to tell him outright what you think of him (assuming it's all good things), he'll bluescreen for a good 10 seconds before stammering out an insult and running back to the safety of his workplace-where he'll get nothing done and stew in his thoughts for a good 3 hours.

#asks #witch au #witch eclipse #thanks for the asks sue! #i heavily appreciate it! #hope these were satisfactory answers! #(sorry they're a little long-i got carried away ahaha...) #i love how this au was supposed to be lunar-centric and then just evolved to become entirely about eclipse #pfft #THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU! #i love getting asks and it only happens once in a blue moon so I'm always really happy to answer #anyways yea! #tsams au #witch kc #rambles

[yippie-ki-yay]

hi runs in circles around you

could you potentially do some hank with a reader who's killed him before? i think that'd be a neat thing to write :eyes:

It's finally here!!! Took me longer than I wanted to finish, but hopefully it's decent! Also, there may or may not be future plans for a follow up or mini-series. We'll see ^^

Words ; 1.6k

Days later you were reeling - the fight still fresh in your mind despite how much time had passed. In any other case dwelling on it would be a little odd, people fought and killed basically every single day out here, but the tangle you’d gotten into was much more than just a simple fight…

Really, you can’t remember what landed you in that situation. Maybe it was a case of mistaken identity? You didn’t look much like an agent (but then again a lot of people nowadays looked similar, didn’t they?), though maybe you’d inadvertently given him a weird look in passing and he’d come to settle the score. You hadn’t meant for that double-take to be taken in a negative way, really, but people had been killed for less and just because it was a misunderstanding didn’t mean you’d be exempt from that unspoken rule of the wastes. 

Though, you doubted that you were the first to react in such a way. This was fucking Hank we were talking about here. 

Even thinking about him gave you chills. It almost felt like it was some sort of taboo, like if you spoke his name three times he’d appear before you like some kind of fucked-up Beetlejuice scenario, but that would be impossible. It was one thing to go up against Nevada’s boogeyman, to get a few good jabs in during the fight, but your ending was different. He wouldn’t be coming back to haunt you since he was dead. You made sure of that when you drove the blade into his chest again and again and again, dragging the slowly cooling body towards a ditch before kicking it down the rest of the way. Chest heaving, you’d stood there for longer than you would’ve liked to admit. Even if you’d taken his life with your own two hands, it was hard to believe that he wouldn’t be clawing his way right back up in just a moment or two. The longer you waited the more paranoid you’d become, fear tightening in your chest until you decided to turn and run away as fast as you possibly could. 

Enough time had passed to allow you to breathe again. Even if you were the farthest thing from comfortable at least you were able to sleep for an hour or two. Was it with the door barricaded to hell? Maybe, but that was better than how you had been at first. The bags under your eyes were heavy and dark, the remaining fatigue eating away at you as you sat and stared at the blocked door. Having sprinted back to the place you called home, there had been no time wasted in locking things down. It might not keep someone like him out, no, but it would give you enough time to prepare yourself for round two…or run again, which seemed like the better option now that you really considered it. It was still unbelievable that you’d won against him - the same man who’d fought and held his own against more powerful foes. You’d heard about some of them - that clown specifically creeped you out, and the man with the halo wasn’t anything to sneeze at either, but neither of them had been able to take him out (or so you thought, anyways…). Instead of any of the more well-known names, little ol’ you had been the one to finally put Hank to rest. Amidst all of the fear, there was a little sliver of satisfaction over that. You should’ve been dead, been nothing but another murder charge on his record, and yet here you were. 

Alive. Still kicking. You’d fought and won against Nevada’s biggest threat just like you’d done with every other thing the hellish landscape had thrown at you. 

That pride welled up in your chest again, loosening up the tightness that constricted your ribcage. You weren’t new to killing people, not in a place like this, but it was more the fact of who you’d killed that had you shaken this badly. You didn’t know what to think, much less do, after an event like that. You doubted that anyone would believe your story but did that really matter? You didn’t care about the attention this could bring you. In fact it likely wouldn’t be a good thing if other people knew that you’d been the one to take down Hank, there was always someone looking to prove themselves and letting that information loose would make you the perfect candidate to get your shit kicked in. Sure, you’d won that fight, but it was mostly pure luck that you’d come out on top. 

It was best to not hang onto all that, though. End of the day you’d still been the one to walk away from there - wounded but still standing, driven by the fear of death at the hands of one of the most violent, horrifying men to ever exist. Shaking your head, you stood up from your bed - ever since you came back you hadn’t left the safety of the mattress, feeling like a child as you hid under the covers but it sure didn’t stop you from using the sheets to conceal your presence. You’d been too afraid to give a shit about how ridiculous it was - for all you knew there was a monster coming after you. 

A growl from your stomach caught your attention. Oh, right. Food. 

While you still had some stuff left, there wasn’t really much to work with. Just a half-empty box of cereal that was likely stale, a few cans of cold soup, and a couple packs of what you assumed was food you’d nabbed off an idle Agency truck. They honestly looked kind of gross but the one you’d opened had tasted alright. While you planned on restocking at some point, leaving the safety of home didn’t sound so appealing right now, Even if you weren’t petrified that didn’t mean you were completely over the paranoia. Besides, it seemed like it was getting late - even with no sun in the sky, you’d sort of adapted to the less noticeable shifts in the time of day. 

It took a little bit of effort to move the furniture away from the door. You hadn’t bothered to put everything back to where it had been, that problem could be dealt with later. Right now you needed to eat. You left your room, pausing for a moment to just listen. Was there anyone there? You hadn’t heard anything out of the ordinary… After a long pause you’d continued on, heading into the makeshift kitchen and opening the cabinet where you’d stashed the odd-looking packs. While preparing the food was simple enough you weren’t exactly sure how it worked - it was one of those ‘just add water’ sorts of things but you didn’t even have to heat it up! The Agency might’ve been a pain to deal with, but they sure did have some pretty neat inventions. Using the rest of your water in the canteen, you set the bag down and let it do its thing. There wasn’t much else to do but wait now. Little sounds from the bag filled the silence as you stood there, counting down the minutes down in your head when a movement in the corner of your eye caught your attention. 

What… What had that been?

Your paranoia spiked again as you stared out the window, wanting to possibly get a better look at what (or, the more terrifying option, who) had been out there but at the same time maybe it was best to leave it be. It was probably just you being paranoid, right? Right. So instead of playing into that fear why don’t you just get your food and go back to your room, safe from any-

CRASH!

Halfway to getting the packet of mostly-cooked food, the shattering glass raining behind you made you scream, whipping right back around. You didn’t know what to expect - a raider? Maybe a wild animal (if there were any around here anymore, that is…) that smelled your food and decided it wanted more? Whatever you hoped for, though, the actual culprit was much worse of an outcome. 

Really, you thought that you might’ve been seeing things at first. That some other force had blown your window in and the armor-clad figure perched there was just a grief-fueled hallucination and Hank - the man you murdered and buried not too long ago, mind you - wasn’t actually a few feet away from where you stood. You both stared at each other for a moment, red goggles boring right into your own as time seemed to come to a standstill. It was almost like one was sizing the other up in a way - you were trying to figure out what he wanted while Hank was likely sizing you up. Flinching when he took a step down, this was when you finally backed up. 

“H-how are you…?” Back to the wall now, you felt your chest get tight again. The memories you recounted earlier were flooding your mind - the fight, the killing blow, how you’d ditched his body… You’d taken his life with your own two hands and yet here he was, looking completely unscathed and likely out for revenge. Another step and all of your attention had returned to him, watching as the glass crunched underneath the heavy sole of his boot. Some grim part of you saw your skull there instead, if he decided to be merciful anyways… At this point you were crying without even realizing it. “I killed you! You’re supposed to be-!” A hand wrapped around your throat cut you off, lifting you a short distance off the ground.  “Dead?” A deep, gravelly laugh left him at the word. “Not this time. I don’t die so easily.” Hank’s words fell on nearly-deaf ears.You were more focused on your own survival, though that window of opportunity was closing fast. His head tipped to the side as he observed your terrified expression. “Let’s see if the same holds up for you.”

#madness combat #madness combat hank #madness combat x reader #hank j wimbleton x reader