#force me to think about answers to questions i never even considered

[cam3lliaw]

Catching the eye of a prince

-crownprince!gojo x maid!reader

Who would’ve thought getting caught reading a book during work hours one random day would not only make you good friends with the right hand of the crown prince, but also end up making the said crown prince be interested in getting to know you.

contents/ warnings: might be ooc, insecurities( some implied), mentions of stealing, a bit of angst at times to eventual fluff, friends to lovers trope, the main characters are all in their early 20s, tba

word count: 0.7 k words

series masterlist

notes: I've read a lot of jjk royalty au recently and I was inspired to write one as well :) this is the prologue and I don't really know how long this will turn out to be but i hope you enjoy it !! (fic under the cut)

“Need any help with that?” a gruff voice could be heard from behind.

You didn’t need to turn around to know that the voice belonged to none other than Geto Suguru, the crown prince’s right hand, his one and only best friend, and last but not least, your occasional thorn in the side.

“You really like that joke a lot, don’t you, Lord Geto.” you said, still not turning to face him as you continued to hang the sheets on the clothesline.

“And you really like to call me that, even though I tell you all the time that Suguru is just fine. And besides, I wasn’t, and never will be, joking when I ask you that question, [name].” he chuckled.

“You know that my answer will always be no, Suguru. There are some lines that even I won’t cross, and to be honest, it’s absurd to even consider I’ll let you help me.”

“And why is that?” he asked, even though he fully knows the answer already.

“Well for starters, I’m not that stupid not to be aware of the difference in our status, friends or not, it still matters to me. And secondly-” you turn to face him as a smile stretches on your face “You don’t see me coming to your office and telling you how you should do your work.”

“I wouldn’t oppose to that, you know.” Suguru smiled back.

“Like I’m smart enough to even step into a place like that.” you huffed jokingly.

At that he grimaced slightly.

“Come on, [name]. We both know you are way smarter than a lot of the people that work in this palace.”

“Reading a few books here and there only get you so far, Suguru. You, out of everyone, should know that well.”

It never gets easier, admitting that you wish for more. In another universe, you would read all day, study literature properly with someone who actually knows what they’re doing, not only from damaged pages of stolen books from the royal library, books that are about to be disposed not only because the years have left them in a horrible shape but sometimes also because the concepts explained are so old that they aren’t even right anymore.

“You know I could always bring and lend you newer ones right? I told you that on multiple occasions already and I mean it every time.” Suguru said as he approached you and stood by your side.

You also know Suguru would never make fun of you, he really wants to help. But it’s hard enough to get and hide the books in the maids’ chambers before you finish reading them and returning them to the library's unofficial “trash” section. Imagine what trouble you would get in if you get caught with fancy new books. It hurts only to think about it.

“I know…I’ll let you know in case I need anything. I promise.”

Saying this is clearly better than admitting the truth. As much as you don’t want unnecessary problems for yourself, dragging Suguru into all of this mess is even worse.

“This doesn’t look very…straight.” Suguru changed the subject to lighten the mood, as he tried to lightly stretch one of the sheets.

“We both know that’s a bold-faced lie! Don’t mess the laundry! If it ends up falling down and I’ll have to wash it again, I won't talk to you anymore, Suguru.”

“We also know that’s not true.” he chuckled as he gently bumped his side into yours.

You returned the action.

And he did it once again but a bit more forceful.

And the cycle repeated itself for a few more times until you literally shoved him, but before he could fall on the grass, he grabbed your hands and dragged you down as well, falling down a step away from the dark haired man.

“You’re acting like a child!” you exclaimed as you started laughing.

“Says the one who shoved me!” he started to laugh too.

“You started it!”

“Oh that’s such a mature argument, [name]. Impressive, really.” the male continued to laugh as he got up and helped you up as well.

Unknown to the both of you, this whole exchange was watched from afar by none other than the crown prince, who was initially looking for his best friend, but it seems like he found something else instead.

end notes: i hope you liked it! :)

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x you #jjk gojo #gojo fanfic #gojo satoru #gojo satoru fluff #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojou satoru x reader #satoru gojo fluff #satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo #gojou satoru x you #gojo x you #gojo x reader #crown prince gojo

[accidental-hero]

okay well now i want more asks about my OCs lmao

#force me to think about answers to questions i never even considered #i have a bunch but Sylene and Teagan are my main ones #tbh i may think too hard about posting this and delete it #also sorry for the increase in ask game reblogs i'm craving human interaction

[tofixtheshadows]

I've been thinking a lot lately about how Kabru deprives himself.

Kabru as a character is intertwined with the idea that sometimes we have to sacrifice the needs of the few for the good of the many. He ultimately subverts this first by sabotaging the Canaries and then by letting Laios go, but in practice he's already been living a life of self-sacrifice.

Saving people, and learning the secrets of the dungeons to seal them, are what's important. Not his own comforts. Not his own desires. He forces them down until he doesn't know they're there, until one of them has to come spilling out during the confession in chapter 76.

Specifically, I think it's very significant, in a story about food and all that it entails, that Kabru is rarely shown eating. He's the deuteragonist of Dungeon Meshi, the cooking manga, but while meals are the anchoring points of Laios's journey, given loving focus, for Kabru, they're ... not.

I'm sure he eats during dungeon expeditions, in the routine way that adventurers must when they sit down to camp. But on the surface, you get the idea that Kabru spends most of his time doing his self-assigned dungeon-related tasks: meeting with people, studying them, putting together that evidence board, researching the dungeon, god knows what else. Feeding himself is secondary.

He's introduced during a meal, eating at a restaurant, just to set up the contrast between his party and Laios's. And it's the last normal meal we see him eating until the communal ending feast (if you consider Falin's dragon parts normal).

First, we get this:

Kabru's response here is such a non-answer, it strongly implies to me that he wasn't thinking about it until Rin brought it up. That he might not even be feeling the hunger signals that he logically knew he should.

They sit down to eat, but Kabru is never drawn reaching for food or eating it like the rest of his party. He only drinks.

It's possible this means nothing, that we can just assume he's putting food in his mouth off-panel, but again, this entire manga is about food. Cooking it, eating it, appreciating it, taking pleasure in it, grounding yourself in the necessary routine of it and affirming your right to live by consuming it. It's given such a huge focus.

We don't see him eat again until the harpy egg.

What a significant question for the protagonist to ask his foil in this story about eating! Aren't you hungry? Aren't you, Kabru?

He was revived only minutes ago after a violent encounter. And then he chokes down food that causes him further harm by triggering him, all because he's so determined to stay in Laios's good graces.

In his flashback, we see Milsiril trying to spoon-feed young Kabru cake that we know he doesn't like. He doesn't want to eat: he wants to be training.

Then with Mithrun, we see him eating the least-monstery monster food he can get his hands on, for the sake of survival- walking mushroom, barometz, an egg. The barometz is his first chance to make something like an a real meal, and he actually seems excited about it because he wants to replicate a lamb dish his mother used to make him!

...but he doesn't get to enjoy it like he wanted to.

Then, when all the Canaries are eating field rations ... Kabru still isn't shown eating. He's only shown giving food to Mithrun.

And of course the next time he eats is the bavarois, which for his sake is at least plant based ... but he still has to use a coping mechanism to get through it.

I don't think Kabru does this all on purpose. I think Kui does this all on purpose. Kabru's Post Traumatic Stress Disorder should be understood as informing his character just as much as Laios's autism informs his. It's another way that Kabru and Laios act as foils: where Laios takes pleasure in meals and approaches food with the excitement of discovery, Kabru's experiences with eating are tainted by his trauma. Laios indulges; Kabru denies himself. Laios is shown enjoying food, Kabru is shown struggling with it.

And I can very easily imagine a reason why Kabru might have a subconscious aversion towards eating.

Meals are the privilege of the living.

#Dungeon Meshi #Delicious in Dungeon #Kabru #Kabru of Utaya #Laios Touden #Dungeon Meshi meta #you can have him in the tags too. as a treat. #Dungeon Meshi spoilers #this was directly inspired by livelaughlaios's post about Kabru self harming but I decided it got too long to make it a direct reply #this is a theory I've been working on for weeks because I kept noticing this while skimming for screencaps #I'm hesitant to trigger tag this because of the way certain subcultures on tumblr operate #but if anyone needs me to add a content warning please let me know #also I included image descriptions! I did my best #I think they even help illustrate my points but my god were they sad to write. Kabru is so fucking sad you guys #musings with Dea

[undiscovered-horizon]

[It’s considered good etiquette to ask a man about his wife’s wellbeing. Except if the man in question is Dracule Mihawk.]

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Garp hates having to call Mihawk, mainly because of the warlord's attitude. Used to the usual "yes, sir!" of the Marines, a man with his own will and agenda is not something he entirely knows how to navigate. Especially since both of them know that the World Government needs the warlords more than they need the bureaucracy. And that doesn't exactly help in exercising power.

His attempts at diplomacy have burst into flames each time and today isn't going to be much different:

"How’s the missus?" Garp asks in the nicest tone he can force although he's aware that Mihawk knows how much the vice admiral hates asking for Dracule's assistance.

Mihawk only scoffs. "Are you calling just to spoil my mood or is there another reason for your impertinence?"

"I was just trying to-"

"Don't," he cuts him off in a stern voice. "If you have business with me, speak fast. If you're interested in my wife, I know where you live, Garp. I'd suggest losing your unwelcome nosiness before you lose something else."

Little did Garp know at the time but his little question was possibly the worst strategy he could think of. Dracule Mihawk is not like most men and the mere mention of his wife by acquaintances only enrages him. Work and private life do not ever mix. And he'll be damned if someone tries to breach that, even in the form of a courtesy. Therefore, the rest of the call was filled with openly insulting answers that were bold even for Mihawk. A veiled threat or two also found their way into their rather tense conversation.

You know he's done with Garp when he lets out a frustrated grunt. Sometimes you wonder if this grumpy, forever dissatisfied version of him is the only side of Mihawk his acquaintances know. Maybe he really is two men in the form of one.

He's sitting at his desk, thinking about something and not bothering to get up for now. Considering the fact that his hat is lying on the table and not on his head, Mihawk is probably not planning on going out anytime soon. Then again, judging by his spoiled mood, his homestay is a blessing for the first poor sods that would cross his path.

In slow steps, you stroll to his side, letting your hand brush through his hair. He doesn't say anything, only leans his head further towards you. The thing about Mihawk is that he loved to reject and decline but he never does so to you. No, in your case it's the opposite - he revels in allowing you whatever you want.

So intimidating and combative, yet soft and looking for intimacy. Truly, two men with the face of one.

"My mother used to say that each grey hair is one thing we worry about," you say quietly. "At this rate, love, your whole head will be white by noon."

"Your mother also says that milk goes sour because gnomes piss in it," he retorts. Yes, your mother and her strange folk beliefs... She's probably the only person Mihawk can force himself to be nice to despite his dislike.

His response earns a hearty laugh from you. Clear as day, you can see his posture relax as he listens to the music of your happiness. If he even thinks about the possibility of Garp or any other of his acquaintances hearing it, he might just get furious again.

"Well, nobody's perfect," you say between chuckles.

Then, Mihawk gently grabs your hand and lowers it to his face. With softness and passion that hardly befits a man of his infamy, he kisses the inside of your hand. "You seem to be doing so effortlessly."

#mihawk one piece #mihawk #one piece mihawk #mihawk fanfiction #dracule mihawk #mihawk x reader #one piece #opla #one piece x reader #one piece x you #one piece fanfiction #one piece fanfic #one piece imagine #dracule mihawk fanfic #dracule mihawk x you #dracule mihawk fanfiction #dracule mihawk x reader

[writing-imagines]

Even Mean Girls Cry // Regina George

Summary: After hooking up with Regina for a year, you finally get to see her vulnerable side after The Plastics reject her at lunch.

Possible warnings: light swearing, bullying, and Regina being Regina

Pairing: Regina George x gender!neutral reader (readers gender literally isn’t mentioned)

A/n: first fic of 2024!! I love Reneé’s Regina so feel free to send me any ideas or thoughts about her

Regina George wasn’t a good person. It was evident ever since the first grade when she told everyone that Peter Howell peed himself after she spilled apple juice on him. So, you did your best to avoid her, and her ever changing minions, every day as you grew up. When you reached high school, Regina’s antics became more frequent and hurtful. By the end of your freshman year, she had at least one embarrassing piece of information on everyone in school, yourself included. 

Your streak of successfully avoiding Regina came to an end after winter break during your sophomore year. Ms. Norbury asked you to be Regina’s Intermediate Math tutor since you had the highest grades in your Algebra 2 class. You were hesitant to accept the opportunity considering Regina’s reputation, but you knew tutoring would look great on your college application. You accepted Ms. Norbury’s request and so started your relationship with Regina George. 

At first, she sat across from you in the empty cafeteria after school, chomping loudly on her gum and texting a thousand words a minute. Her behavior continued every day that week and by Friday, you’d had enough. 

“Regina, stop wasting my time and pay attention.” You finally snapped after she blew an obnoxiously large pink bubble with her gum. Regina’s eyes slowly rose from her phone screen to you. 

“What did you just say to me?” Her eyes resting on you instantly made you lose the confidence you just had. 

“Oh-I…I meant you should pay attention. I’m trying to teach you, so you don’t fail your next algebra test.” You smiled nervously as Regina’s gaze dug further into you. After a few more moments of intense staring, the blonde let out a scoff. 

“You know, you’re actually kind of cute.” Her blue eyes looked you over, this time in a more flirtatious way. You felt like a lamb dangling over a hungry mountain lion. 

“Thanks.” You nervously looked away and rubbed the back of your neck in an attempt to get any relief from Regina’s presence. 

“So, you agree? You think you’re cute.” 

“Umm…I mean, I don’t really know.” Regina’s smile softened and she looked at you as if you were a lost puppy. Without warning, the blonde stood up and made her way to your side of the table. She sat down in the seat beside you and scooted as close as she possibly could, causing your face to warm and your heart to beat faster. 

“Have you ever kissed anyone, Y/n?” Regina questioned with her pointer and middle finger dancing on your thigh. Your throat went dry at the mention of the one thing you were embarrassed of. In a school full of hormonal teenagers, you were truly the only one who hadn’t kissed anyone yet. You were kicking yourself for accidentally telling Karen the sensitive information during a bonfire last year. 

“You know the answer, Regina.” You said with a defeated exhale. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at Regina, instead, you kept your eyes glued to the table. Suddenly, the two fingers that danced on your thigh were placed gently under your chin, forcing you to look at the blonde beside you. Her eyes were kinder, and her smile was still soft, making you feel less embarrassed. 

“It’s okay, you don’t need to be embarrassed.” You didn’t say anything, instead, you softly smiled and took in Regina’s features. You had never noticed how pretty her eyes were or how full her lips were. 

“Do you want to kiss me, Y/n?” Regina’s eyebrows lifted with the question. Without even thinking, you blurted out the answer. 

“Yes.” You swore for a moment Regina began to blush as she pushed a few stray hairs away from her face. 

“Okay. Close your eyes.” 

You did as you were told. For a moment, you were worried it was all just a prank, but when you felt Regina’s lips press against yours, you knew it had to be real. You did your best to reciprocate the kiss, causing Regina to let out a small moan, which caused your stomach to flip about ten times. Suddenly, you felt Regina’s hands find your neck and her perfectly manicured nails rested on the nape of your neck, effectively pulling you in deeper. 

The sound of a door slamming shut caused both of you to pull away quickly. You couldn’t help but stare at Regina with a bewildered look, seriously questioning if the kiss happened. 

“Wow, you're a pretty good kisser, Nerd.” 

“T-Thanks. You’re good too.” You sputtered with the most nervous tone you had ever heard from yourself. The blonde laughed before running her fingers along the edge of her lips to wipe away any smeared lip gloss. 

“I know.”  The two of you sat in silence for what felt like hours before Regina spoke up. 

“So, I’ll see you on Monday then.” She quickly stood up and gathered her things as if nothing had happened. 

“I’ll see you on Monday.” You echoed, wiping Regina’s cherry flavored lip gloss off your lips. 

“Bye, Nerd.” 

“Bye, Regina.” 

Almost a full year later and your hookups with Regina were still going strong. In fact, ever since Cady Heron started causing drama between the girls, you had been spending all of eighth period in the back seat of Regina’s Jeep, making out like it was your last moments on earth. Not to mention, secretly hooking up with the queen bee of North Shore gave you a major confidence boost that even Regina noticed. Your relationship had even gone to the next level: texting each other about things that didn’t involve when and where to hookup. 

You were sitting in Trigonometry when your phone pinged. You quickly checked it, not wanting to risk Ms. Norbury confiscating it. It wasn’t much of a surprise to see that Regina had texted you. 

RG: Sweatpants are the only things that fit me right now 

Y/n: So? 

RG: So? Jesus Y/n. I can’t wear sweatpants to lunch! 

Y/n: Because of the stupid rules YOU made?

RG: They aren’t stupid 

Y/n: I’m sure it’ll be fine. The girls will understand 

“Y/n, care to share with that class what on your phone is so important that you’re missing out on practice test questions?” 

“No. Sorry, Ms. Norbury. It won’t happen again.” 

“Good. Now, as I was saying…” You watched Ms. Norbury turn to write something on the board and quickly sent another text to Regina. 

Y/n: Just got called out by Norbury for texting you. Hope you’re happy 

You went the rest of class without hearing from Regina. In fact, you went most of the day without hearing from her. It was a little weird, but you knew she had a lot going on and it wasn’t like you needed constant communication with each other. 

When lunch came around, it was the same old same old. You sat down with some of your other tutor friends and talked about your day. As Daisy Smith talked about her failed attempt to teach Karen about fractions, you saw Regina walk towards The Plastics. True to her word, she wore gray sweatpants that grabbed your, and several others, attention. You didn’t eye Regina for long, not wanting anyone to accuse you of being a creep or being in love with her. You looked down at your lunch only for the room to suddenly go quiet. 

“You can’t sit with us!” Gretchen’s voice echoed through the silent room. No one dared to even gasp as Regina fired back. 

“Sweatpants are all that fit me right now.” Even though you couldn’t see her face, you could tell Regina was talking through gritted teeth. 

“What do you think, Cady?” Gretchen asked, her voice once again echoing through the room. 

“Sorry, Regina. Rules are rules.” Seeing the sly look on Cady’s face made you want to march over to her and smash a tray of food in her face. You knew that would lead to a suspension, so you made a mental note to figure out some way to get back at Cady that wouldn’t result in a week off school.

“Fine.” 

Regina turned around to see every eye in that room on her. You could tell by the look on her face that for once, she hated the attention. Not a single person in that room moved to make room for Regina as she walked down the aisle. 

“Daisy, scoot down.” You quickly nudged the redhead to make room for Regina.

“Regina, you can sit with us.” You offered, eyes slightly full of hope that she would accept the offer and somehow make the situation better.

“I’m not sitting with you losers.” She spat out as she stormed past your table. 

“What a bitch.” Glenn Coco scoffed. Your blood boiled at Glenn’s comment, but you knew you had to play it cool to avoid any suspicion. 

“Guys, I forgot my math book in Ms. Norbury’s. I’m going to grab it really quick.” 

You quickly got up from the table, leaving your tray behind, and stormed off to find Regina. You searched her usual hangout spots, the maintenance room and the girl’s locker room in the gym. When you didn’t find her in either place, you made your way to the only other place she could be, the parking lot.

Sure enough, as you approached her Jeep, you saw Regina sitting in the passenger seat. Even from far away, you could tell she was crying. Cautiously, you approached the car and tapped on her window. The blonde’s head instantly shot up, revealing her red eyes and mascara stained cheeks. You had never seen Regina cry before, and the sight actually shocked you to your core. Without saying a word, you walked over to the driver’s side and climbed in. 

“What are you doing?” Regina questioned through sniffles as you put the car in reverse and pulled out of the parking spot. 

“I’m taking you home.” Your hands gripped the steering wheel a little tighter when you noticed a picture of Regina, Karen, and Gretchen resting on her dashboard as you drove out of the parking lot. 

“I don’t need you to take me home.” Regina tried to use her usual venomous tone, but it came out shaky and pitiful. 

“I don’t care if you need me to. I want to take you home. That was fucking ridiculous.” 

After a few minutes of silence, you looked over to see tears still rolling down Regina’s face. Based on how her bottom lip was quivering, you knew Regina really needed to cry. You carefully reached your right hand over to Regina and grabbed her hand. 

“It’s okay to cry. They tried to humiliate you in front of the whole school. You don’t have to hide it from me.” You squeezed Regina’s hand, which caused her to quickly pull her hand away. 

“I am not crying because of those bitches. I’m crying because all I can wear is sweatpants and my mascara is ruined.” That time Regina was able to spit out her usual venom. While her tone would intimidate most people, it let you know Regina was going to be okay. 

“Those are still valid reasons to cry.” You said matter-of-factly. You felt Regina’s eyes land on you again, causing you to glance over at her. 

“Why are you so nice to me all the time?” 

“Because I’m a nice person.” You shrugged, not wanting to give away your true feelings for Regina. 

“I think it’s because you like me.” 

“And what if I did?” You replied without missing a beat. Once again, you were kicking yourself for not thinking before you spoke. 

“I’d have to give you a makeover. I can’t date anyone who dresses like that.” 

“What’s wrong with the way I dress?” 

“Nothing, if you’re going for a grocery store clerk.” You scoffed and acted offended by Regina’s words, which made the blonde crack a smile. 

“I do not dress like a grocery store clerk.” 

You both chuckled as you pulled up to the George's home. You instantly took note that Mrs. George’s car was missing from the driveway. 

“Do you want to come in? My mom isn’t home.” Regina looked at you with hopeful eyes. Not wanting to leave Regina alone after a traumatic event, you decided that it would be a good idea for you to stick around for a little while longer.

“Yeah, I’ll come in for a little bit.” 

You turned off the car and let Regina take the lead into her home. The second the front door closed behind you, Regina took your hand and led you up to her room. 

“Shoes off and get on the bed.” The blonde commanded.

“Regina, I don’t think we should-”

“Relax, Nerd. I just want you to hold me and tell me I’m pretty.” 

You quickly kicked your shoes off and lied down on the right side of the bed. Once you were comfortable, Regina joined you. Within seconds, her head found a comfortable spot on your chest, resting between your jaw and collarbone. Her hand found its way down to your stomach and balled the fabric of your shirt into her hand. After Regina was comfortable, you snaked your arm around her and held her close. You couldn’t help but look down at the blonde with a smile. When she wasn’t ruining people’s lives, Regina was actually kind of sweet. 

“Hey, Regina?”

“What, Nerd?” 

“You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.” 

“Yeah, I know.” You could feel Regina’s smirk against your neck, which only made you fall a little harder for her.

You laid there, holding the blonde like your life depended on it. Your mind couldn’t help but wonder about finally telling Regina how you felt about her. It seemed like a good idea, especially after a hard day, but the thought of losing her stopped you. So, you just let Regina George, the meanest girl in North Shore, sleep on your chest while you held her close. 

#Regina George #Regina George x reader #Regina George imagine #mean girls #mean girls 2024 #Renee Rapp #first fic of 2024 #let’s goooo

[ramhaiba]

𝖡𝗈𝗒𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽 (𝖸𝖺𝗇𝖽𝖾𝗋𝖾 𝖲𝖺𝗍𝗈𝗋𝗎 𝖦𝗈𝗃𝗈 𝗑 𝖱𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋)

SNEAK PEEK

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT a/n: this fic is a lot darker than normal of my work contains: noncon sexual themes, manhandling, breaking up, biting, oral (f receiving), baby trapping, modern au

The truth is, you should have broken up with Satoru Gojo a long time ago. Two years ago, the thought of even considering taking a break from Satoru would have sent you into a coma. Why wouldn’t you want to be known as ‘Satoru's girl?’ Being with a guy like him would cause no one to dare look at you in the wrong way. 

Besides, he buys you things that cost more than your rent, and will refuse if you dare to give it back to him because you ‘don’t need such expensive things.’ 

So what exactly is wrong with dating Satoru?

Obsession. 

“You’ve been spending so much time with your friends...sometimes I think you forget who your boyfriend is”

“Jealous? Me? Baby, it’s only because I care about you”

“You know I don’t like it when you’re away, it hurts me. Do you want to hurt me, Y/n?”

“You look great in that dress. But I feel like I should be the only person to see you in it. Why don’t you go change so you don’t embarrass me” 

And the list goes on and on...and on…

If it wasn’t his words that would send you to this point, his constant touching, rubbing, groping, and kissing in public just to scare any guy in your five-mile radius away was something you couldn’t ignore anymore. 

The final straw is when you heard furious knocking on your door, knocking so loud that you could have sworn that whoever was behind it would just kick it down, surprised that you could hear it with the storm outside. Unlucky for you, you were middle of a shower, not expecting to be bothered in the middle of the night. You were forced to wrap a towel around your torso, covering your chest to your upper thighs, and rushing down the stairs to open the door.

You slowly open the door for your boyfriend,  his chest heaving as the rain pours down on his white hair. 

“Satoru- wh-what’s wrong.” you stuttered, clenching the towel wrapped around your body.

“Bastard ” he muttered, stepping inside, letting his wet footprints stain your floors. 

“What? Satoru, why are you even here- it’s late” you questioned, in disbelief. 

“Tell me-tell me that he didn’t fuck you, Y/n. Please” Satoru begged, his hands gripping your shoulder as he forced you to the wall, blue eyes without a trace of sanity.

“Wh-what the fuck are you talking about “ you yelped, unaware of what put your boyfriend into such a manic episode.  

“Is he still in the house? Huh? He is right?” Satoru started laughing, his head leaning into the crook of your neck, 

God- at this point you wouldn’t be surprised if he bit your neck off.

“Satoru, you’re starting to scare me. Please just tell me what’s wrong and I can help you” you responded, trying to caress his face, only for him to pin your hands above your head. 

“Nanami, you’re fucking him, right? Suguru saw bring you to your house. Holding hands or some shit. Looking too friendly” Satoru hissed, just the thought of you being touched by hands that didn’t belong to him sent waves of fury into him. 

You didn’t even question why Suguru was watching you when he had no reason to be in your area- 

Thinking back at it, you wondered if Satoru begged asked Suguru to watch you while he was too busy to do it himself. 

“Nanami only came over because I asked him to help fix my door” you answered. 

“Then what? You rode his dick as a reward?” 

“Satoru, I would never” you argued. 

“Then show me… Prove to me that you’d never betray me” he erupted, clicking his tongue 

“Please” he added.

That’s when Satoru stepped away from you, knowing what you have to do, your hands shakily let the white towel around your chest slip off, falling onto the floor, using your forearms to cover your breast and pelvis. You turned your head to the side, finding it unbearable to watch his degrading facial expression as he examined every inch of your body, tears of embarrassment threatening to spill out of your eyes. 

“What’s this,” Satoru asked, eyes hooded, his fingers prying your thighs apart, tracing over a faded bite mark. 

“It’s from you, remember” you answered, voice cracking. Suddenly, you felt Satoru’s hands pull your face towards his, blue eyes locking with yours, refusing to let you look away, “want to bet on it?” he questioned. 

You watched hopelessly as Satoru’s lips trailed down your chest to your inner thigh, his knees on the ground, stopping at the bite mark, his pupils dilating as he took a good look at it, before sinking his teeth right into it, causing you to yelp, tugging on his white hair, silently begging him to stop. And when he finally did, he pressed a wicked kiss on it, pulling back to analyze it, 

“I knew it”

He smiled as he looked up at you from between your legs, pressing his chin on your thigh, “It’s a perfect match on my teeth, I knew you’d never cheat on me baby” he smiled. His hands rubbed your waist as your tears fell from your eyes, heart still racing from the rush of adrenaline.

 Satoru didn’t mind you were crying, in fact, he thought you were always at your prettiest when crystal-clear salty tears dripped down your heated cheeks, eyelashes damp. 

Full version

#yandere x reader #jjk x reader #yandere jjk x reader #yandere jjk #gojo satoru #yandere gojo #yandere satoru gojo #yandere satoru gojo x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader

[natalievoncatte]

Lena didn’t have time for traffic. She looked up from her phone and glared at the back of her driver’s head.

“Frank, why is it taking so long?”

“I’m not Frank, Ma’am. He called out this morning.”

Lena sighed. “And your name?”

“Vincent, ma’am.”

“Vincent, why is this taking so long?”

He signed. “Traffic, ma’am. Sounds like there’s a few blocks downtown closed. Supergirl is fighting some monster or alien or something.”

Lena stopped herself from smiling softly. “Ah, well then. Anyway, might as well see if you can find us a way around. I just don’t like to stand still.”

The driver nodded.

“What do you think about Supergirl, ma’am?”

Lena sighed. “Forgive me, Vincent, but I do have some work to concentrate on, here. I’m not usually one for chitchat. I hope you don’t mind.”

She sank back into her seat and flicked to the next email. There were a lot of fires to put out. Upcoming product launches, grant applications, university partnerships, charity events, plus her own work. She was becoming so strained lately that she was seriously considering stepping down from the direct CEO role so she could spend more time in the lab, where her real passion was.

Sometimes she almost sympathized with Lex; the life of a CEO could easily drive someone insane. Lena would rather spend her days in a labcoat or doing charity work than listening to another entitled silver spoon-

“You’re going the wrong way,” Lena said, sharply.

“I’m finding a way around,” said the driver. “You know, you never answered my question, before. What do you think of Supergirl?”

Lena stuffed her phone in her pocket and thrust her hand in her jacket, freeing the concealed revolver she carried in a shoulder holster under her left arm. The partition was already going up, sealing her in.

“What are you doing?”

“Answer my question,” the driver said, through a speaker.

Lena swallowed hard. “I think she’s a hero but I don’t fully trust her. I work with her when I feel it will help people. That’s all.”

“That’s not what your mother thinks.”

“Isn’t it?” said Lena. “What does she think?”

“Are you fucking her?”

Lena barked out a laugh. “Are you serious? That’s her question?”

“Are you fucking her like you debased yourself with that little tart in boarding school?”

There was silent beat.

“She told me to say that. She made me practice saying ‘tart’.”

He sounded almost bored.

“Fuck you,” Lena snapped. “Whatever you’re going to do, do it.”

“Nothing personal,” said the driver.

Lena sighed, almost annoyed at the hiss as a thin, chemical smelling gas hissed into the car, rising around her. She forced herself to stay calm, stoic, even her pulse raced.

“I’m not afraid of you, or her,” said Lena.

She coughed twice as the world irises shut around her, dragging her down into a cold, dreamless sleep.

When she snapped awake, she was alone. The partition was open, but the gun was gone from her holster. She felt around for it, then decided to clamber into the front seat, rolling over the seats facing her. The driver was gone, of course. Heavy chains were padlocked around the car, pinning the front doors shut.

There was a tape recorder sitting on the front seat. Lena ignored it as she looked around. The car was surrounded by metal walls, and a creep sense of dread rose up Lena’s spine. She fought the panic down, dropping into the driver’s seat.

Placing the tape deck on the dash, she pushed the okay button.

“Hello, Lena,” Lilian said, in her smooth, posh tones. Lena could hear that smarmy smirk forming around her words.

“You’re probably expecting an ultimatum or an offer. There will be none. I’m through trying to bring my husband’s wayward bastard back into the fold. When you betrayed Lex again, you burned your last chance. It’s time to take out the trash, Lena. I wish I could have throttled you in the cradle, but I didn’t know about you and your mother until it was too late. It’s time to correct that. It’s too bad we won’t be there to watch.”

Watch what?

Lena sat and waited. Whoever was sent to murder her had no sense of dramatic timing. She began rifling through the car, trying to take stock of what she had, what she could use to effect an escape. Breaking the-

A sharp shriek of metal cut through her thoughts. The side walls inched forward with a screech of metal, and Lena froze, terror piercing through her like an icy spike.

Oh.

Oh God.

The walls moved slightly more, and the rear view mirrors on both sides of the car exploded. The mechanism pushing the walls strained and groaned, and that was the only mercy she had.

She was in a car crusher. In the car.

The armored structure of her town car was too heavy for the machine to simply crush, but she had minutes at most. Metal groaned in protest, shrieking around her, and the glass quivered in the doors.

Oh God. Oh God.

She wasn’t going to panic. She wasn’t going to panic. She ripped open every single compartment and cubby she could find, but found only monogrammed glassware and a bottle of champagne. There was nothing.

A random, forgotten Lexosuit would be really useful right about now.

With a sudden shriek, the car began to collapse. The bulletproof glass buckled and shattered, pelting the front seat as she rolled into the back, and the doors buckled in, tearing loose from their hinges as the floor and roof began to fold.

A sudden, ringing, frankly stupid thought came into her head, but it was her best play.

Lena Luthor filled her lungs. She took in the biggest, deepest breath of her life, a breath worthy of a championship deep diver, and screamed at the top of her lungs, until it hurt.

“SUPERGIRL!”

She had to scramble into the back seat as the engine began pushing through the dashboard, ripping apart plastic and leather, splintering buried wood. Lena ducked as the roof crumpled and dove in, like the roof of a dragon’s mouth crushing down to pulp her. She closed her eyes and curled in on herself, hoping it would at least be over fast.

A single ringing thought bit through the fear.

Oh God. Kara’s waiting for me at the restaurant.

Around her metal shrieked, and she heard the vast clang of rending machinery. The inexorable crushing stopped, the bucking limousine going still. Lena opened her eyes, peering through her fingers like a terrified child, and watched in awe as one of the crushed plates tore loose from its moorings and went flying off into the afternoon air.

Hands, strangely delicate, punched through armor plating as if it were cobwebs and ripped the broken shell of Lena’s limo apart, spreading it in every direction.

Lena had never seen Supergirl so panicked. Her eyes were too wide with abject terror, and she seized Lena in her arms, winding her cape around her, and rocketed loose from the car.

Lena’s words were lost to the wind. Supergirl was blasting into the air, flying incredibly fast- too fast. Helpless, she clung to the hero for dear life, feeling woozy as the blood drained from her skull.

She thought, oh, come on, as she passed out again.

When her eyes drifted open, Lena was lying on the ground. Groaning, she sat up slowly, feeling every movement, and realized she’d been lying on a spread red blanket with her suit jacket piled up under her head for a pillow, and she was in the woods. The sun had yielded to the sky, and someone had started a roaring fire a few feet away.

Grateful for the warmth, Lena edged closer. As she did, she realized that she was sitting not on a blanket but on Supergirl’s cape.

Blinking, she looked around.

Supergirl had her back to a tree, curled up on herself with her head hanging between her knees, arms wrapped around to cover her face, and she was sobbing quietly. Lena stared, open-mouthed.

“Supergirl?” she breathed.

Supergirl didn’t respond. Lena rose to her feet, wobbling, and discarded her heels before walking across a bed of soft leaves. She crouched in front of the weeping Kryptonian, stunned when the other woman flinched.

“Supergirl?”

“Lena?”

Her voice was small and soft, all the bravado and righteous authority gone. She sounded strangely human.

“Are you okay?” she whispered.

“I think I am,” said Lena. “What about you? Are you hurt?”

“No,” she sniffed. “A Tauraxian hit me in the head with a greyhound bus. Tuesday afternoon at the office.”

Lena laughed softly, and sat down. “I’m sure. What just happened?”

Supergirl swallowed hard as she looked up. “I panicked. I saw what was happening and I lost control. I’m lucky I didn’t hurt you.”

Lena put a tentative hand in on her shoulder. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“More than you realize,” Supergirl sighed.

“I’m here,” said Lena.

She sat down. Supergirl looked away from her, staring I to the fire a few feet away. In starlight, with the firelight caressing her delicate features and sparkling in her blue eyes, it was impossible to miss how hauntingly beautiful she was… and how haunted herself. Supergirl looked older than her years, a deep sorrow in her eyes that Lena had never seen before.

“I’m claustrophobic,” Supergirl explained. “Not the kind of thing that you advertise.”

“We all have our fears. I have some of my own.”

Lena pushed down thoughts of a pale hand sliding beneath churning black water and shuddered.

With teary eyes, Supergirl looked at her.

“I can’t. I can’t have fears. I’m Supergirl. I have to be perfect, set an example, all that crap. I’m the perfect woman who came from the sky to do only good.”

The perfect woman, Lena thought, consuming the firelit beauty before her. No one would debate that.

Well, Lena would, maybe. There was someone more perfect, someone soft and kind with a devastating smile and laughing eyes tinged with strange sorrow. She hoped Kara wasn’t worrying about her.

It was funny how Lena always thought of Kara when Supergirl was around. Guilt, maybe. Foolish guilt; Kara was a far shore that Lena would never reach, even if she’d gladly sink in the attempt.

“Before I came to Earth, I drifted in the phantom zone in my pod. There were things outside. The pod was the size of a coffin, a tiny space to spend all that time. The phantoms would claw and slash at the canopy and the walls. I was awake for days hearing them trying to get in. Sometimes there were bigger things out there, wrapping arms around it and trying to crush their way in.”

Lena nodded. “That sounds beyond terrible. It’s okay for you to be scared after that.”

Supergirl nodded. “I can barely handle elevators sometimes.”

A jolt went through Lena, something familiar, like a word on the tip of her brain.

“I get scared when other people are enclosed, too,” said Supergirl. “When I saw something trying to crush you, I just lost it. It’s different when it’s you.”

Lena swallowed hard, trying to suppress the shiver that coursed through her body and made the small hairs on her arms stand on end.

“Back in high school, the other girls used to bully me,” said Supergirl. Once, they locked me in a closet in the locker room. I screamed and screamed until until someone let me out. Alex was furious, she…”

Supergirl went quiet, trailing off. Her eyes went wide and she jolted back.

Lena sat there for a second, unsure why…

Wait.

Alex?

High school? Supergirl went to high school?

With Alex? Alex Danvers?

Lena choked down a gasp, the wheels whirling in her head. She looked over and met Supergirl’s eyes, studying them. Her. The way the light played across her soft features, her honey hair, the little scar above her eye.

“Hi, Lena.”

“Hi, Kara,” Lena whispered.

Neither of them moved. Lena wondered briefly if Kara had ever planned to tell her, how she might have planned it. Probably not like this. Her throat bobbed.

Lena shifted closer, until they were hip to hip in a seated hug, Kara crying softly on Lena’s shoulder, powerful arms wrapped around her.

“I was scared,” said Lena. “I was afraid I was going to die and you’d be sitting at the table at the restaurant waiting for me.”

“Never,” said Kara. “I’ll always protect you.”

“And I’ll always protect you. Nobody is ever going to shove my Kara in a closet ever again.”

Kara let out a little gasp.

“Can we stay here for a while? Talk? Just you and me?”

Kara nodded. She stood and gathered up her cape as Lena moved close to the fire, and sat down, wrapping it around them both. Lena let her head fall on Kara’s shoulder.

“This makes a nice blanket.”

“It is a blanket. My cousin was swaddled in it when he came to Earth. Don’t worry, I washed it.”

Lena laughed softly, awkwardly trying to decide where to put her hands. She settled on being bold, and put her arm around Kara’s waist. Kara slipped her arms around her shoulder and pulled her in, and Lena hugged her back, tucking herself into Kara’s shoulder.

They sat for a while as the fire burned down low. It was full dark and the fire was nothing but coals.

“I was going to tell you. I wanted to.”

“I’m not mad.”

“Okay,” Kara sighed.

Lena swallowed hard, trying not to feel her blood rushing in her ears.

“You know,” she said. “You could kiss me right now, if you wanted. That seems like the kind of thing the hero does after saving the girl.”

“I could?” said Kara.

“You could.”

“Like this?”

Kara was trying to be smooth, and it made it hard for Lena not to giggle. She tipped Lena’s chin up with soft fingers and guided herself in, bringing their lips together. Kara kissed her softly, tentatively. Lena kissed her back just as softly, afraid this moment would shatter if she pressed too hard.

It was easy to shift herself into Kara’s lap, even before Kara lifted her there. Lena knew she was strong but not Kryptonian strong, and it it sent a thrill through her. She liked it.

She liked touching Kara, too. Liked feeling the bunching muscles flex under under hands, the softness of her hair, the way she gasped when she felt Lena’s lips on her throat.

“Never have I wished so badly for a tent and sleeping bags,” said Lena.

“And marshmallows to toast!” said Kara.

“Do you ever stop thinking about food?” Lena giggled.

Kara looked at her intently, and Lena shivered, not from the cold. She’d longed for Kara to see her like that, look at her like that.

“Sometimes,” Kara whispered. “Sometimes I think about other things.”

“We should probably go back,” said Lena. “We have people who are probably looking for us.”

Kara nodded.

“Do you want this to be… do you want us to be?”

“Kara,” said Lena, “I would have asked you out a year ago if I thought I had a chance. I thought you just wanted to be friends.”

Kara swallowed. “Are you saying you want to be my girlfriend?”

Lena smiled softly. “Yes.”

Kara rose and clasped her cape to her shoulders, then gently brought Lena to her feet and lifted her from the ground, holding her close.

“Not so fast this time, okay?”

“Okay,” said Kara, lifting them back into the sky.

#supercorp #supergirl fanfiction #supergirl #supercorp fanfic #lena luthor #kara danvers #kara x lena #karlena #supergirl fanfic #ficlet #campfire confession #accidental identity reveal #softcorp

[maximotts]

I know the trope tends to be older woman covering the younger one in lipstick stains but I wanna do that to milf Wanda 🥺 Like I think it would make her all giggly and maybe make her feel like she’s doing one of the things she’s missed out on 👉👈

I got this a few days ago and I've simply never recovered so here's how I imagine this little interaction would go. Disclaimer that I took two mini naps writing this drabble and it's got 0 editing; it's just cute.

"What has gotten into you?"

Wanda giggled, barely getting the question out before you were on her again, covering her cheeks in quick, scattered kisses. She could feel your lipstick leaving smudges on her skin, warm and waxy red smudges she was much more used to leaving on you than receiving.

She'd pushed at your shoulders too lightly for it to really move you, the action futile considering how you'd caged her under you on the sofa just moments after you'd stumbled through Wanda's front door. "You're right here in kissing range so..."

The reasoning was silly, but Wanda couldn't expect much else after a night you'd spent out drinking with your friends. You'd invited her along, but Wanda had the twins this weekend so she declined, spending her night trying to forget how badly she hoped you'd come over whenever you were ready to leave.

Unfortunately you'd caught her on the couch waiting up for you, red robe wrapped around her freshly showered form— so much for coming off as nonchalant about the possibility of seeing you, more so having you end your night with her, in a house she'd like you to consider your home too.

Wanda smelled the alcohol on your breath even as your lips trailed down to her neck; whatever you'd drunk all night must've been sweet, a faint fruity scent accompanying the liquor- cute. "Were you a good girl tonight?"

The question caught you off guard, her firm hand catching your jaw and forcing your confused gaze back to her face. Wanda stared you down as seriously as an over-tired and now flushed in the face woman could at two in the morning waiting for you to give her the answer she waited for.

She'd know if you lied. She always knew.

"I didn't do anything with anyone else, if that's what you're asking." Wanda moved to caress your cheek and you were quick to nuzzle into her hand, her warm palm grounding your hazy focus. Arms weakening, you settled your weight between her legs and the rough denim scratching along your inner thighs sent a shiver up her spine so suddenly, her breath caught in her throat for a minute. "Look at you... you're so pretty, mommy."

"Shhh, honey, the boys are sleeping." Sweet as the rambly compliment was, your volume control wasn't proving to be great while drunk.

The gentle reminder left you pouting, nosing at the base of her throat apologetically. "I'll be quiet! Let me kiss you more? Preferably all over? Just for a little bit, then bedtime."

"Alright okay! So eager..." Wanda couldn't help but laugh as your attention turned to her sternum, fumbling hands already struggling with the knot of her robe, appreciating not only your adoration, but your blunt honesty.

Both were quite new to her relationship wise and she was quickly finding it to be very... fun; something she'd missed out on most times in her marriage. "But you're showering first thing in the morning; you smell like that bar."

#wanda maximoff x reader #milf!wanda maximoff x reader #milf!wanda au #soft mommy wanda my love my life #motts writes. #maximotts

[imbored1201]

Leah’s Problem

Word Count: 1.6k

Pairing: Leah Williamson x Reader

A/N: Happy Birthday @alotofpockets

Leah’s jealousy towards everyone was understandable; it was obvious to everyone that you tried your best to avoid her. It also didn’t help the fact that everyone on the team seemed to like you, which made Leah more desperate to get to know you. 

You were Katie’s best friend; no one knew how the two of you met in the first place, but they did know wherever Katie went, you followed. 

For this reason, it was pretty hard for Katie to have to drag you to meet everyone one by one, considering you got nervous in large groups. But for some reason, you never got to Leah; she had waited patiently, watched as you talked and laughed with everyone else, but refused to acknowledge her. 

———

Today was another day of you running away from Leah. Leah always made sure to wave at you when you stepped into the locker room; sometimes she did get a tiny one back. Today was one of those days where she got no wave back. 

“Tough one again,” Beth joked. She loved watching those interactions; it was entertaining to watch you treat Leah like she was a ghost. Of course, she also knew the true reason behind it, but she didn’t get herself involved like Katie had. 

“Maybe try pairing up with her,” Viv suggested, feeling bad for her friend. “I always try; she always runs to Katie." "Well, Katie has been choosing Caitlin lately, and everyone could tell Kyra is too much for her.” 

As everyone split into pairs, Leah watched as you stood there awkwardly, Katie had been pairing up with Caitlin lately, and you were forced to go with Kyra, who was way too energetic for you. Before Kyra could steal you away, Leah took this chance to finally talk to you.

“Hey-“ Before Leah could finish her sentence, you quickly rushed over to Katie, pretending you didn’t hear her. “Okay then,” she muttered, sadly making her way to Kim. 

“What’s up with her?” Kim asked, not sure what she just watched. “She doesn’t like me,” Leah mumbled sadly as she watched you rush over to Katie. “What did you do to the poor girl?” 

Leah looked offended at that question. “Nothing. She’s always been like that around me,” Leah sighed, watching as you joked around with Katie and Caitlin. 

She didn’t know what to do anymore. “Just talk to her." “I’ve tried; she runs off before I could even finish my sentence.” Kim sighed. As much as she didn't want to get involved, she knew she had to now. 

————

When Kim approached you about team bonding night, you felt like you were about to faint right on the spot. Usually team bonding nights meant games, and most of the time the teams were chosen randomly. The chances of you and Leah getting partnered up were pretty slim, but with your luck, you weren’t going to risk that. 

Kim could tell you were lying when you told her you already had plans. She saw how tense you got when she asked if you were going to be able to attend, and Katie always said you had no friends outside of the team. 

———

Leah was sad but relieved to hear you weren’t coming to bonding night. As much as she wanted to talk to you, she would not be able to handle the awkwardness. 

“Where’s Y/N?” Katie asked; she had just arrived and was already eating all the desert Viv had made. 

“She said she couldn’t make it,” Kim answered, letting Katie read the text. Katie scoffed, storming back to the door. 

“Where are you going?” Kyra asked as everyone watched Katie. “I’m going to get her. I'm sick of her running away from her problems.” 

“What problems?” Leah watched Katie think for a bit. “Ay Kim, did you order food?” Kim nodded, and Katie looked at Leah.

“Let’s go, Williamson." Leah thought about it for a bit. You practically hated her, it would be quite awkward, “I don’t think I should." "Go,” Kim said sternly, knowing what Katie was trying to do. 

———

“Why did I have to come? Everyone knows the girl doesn’t like me." Katie grinned, “That girl likes you, that’s the problem for her, though.” 

Leah went silent after that, occasionally yelling at Katie for her terrible driving. Her heart started pounding when Katie parked and got out of the car to get you. 

“Let me deal with this girl; I’ll shout if I need backup." Katie hurried inside the building, cursing as she realized she didn’t have the spare key you gave her. 

That's what you woke up to. Someone banging on your door. “L/N, I swear, if you don’t get up, I’m going to break this door open.” You let out a frustrated sigh hearing Katie’s voice. You tiredly made your way to the door, hoping you would be able to talk Katie into letting you stay home. 

“What do you want, McCabe?” Katie grinned seeing your tired state. “Tonight is team bonding you idiot; why aren’t you dressed?” 

“I told Kim I can’t make it." Katie scoffed, shoving past you and heading straight to your bedroom. “Bed undone, kitchen a mess, even this closet is a mess and not color coded anymore,” you watched as she went through your clothes. 

“Change, and hurry; Leah is waiting. We still need to pick up the food.” Your eyes widened hearing the name. “Leah? Williamson?” “Yes, hurry and get ready.” You threw yourself on the bed. First,  she almost broke your door, then she insulted how your place looked, and now she brought the person you couldn’t even look at without panicking. 

"Hey,” you whispered to them when you got in. Leah nodded at you, silently hoping Katie would speed past all the stop signs, but of course, this ride was the only time Katie decided to drive under the speed limit instead of over. 

————

“You're a terrible driver,” you told her, rushing to the front door and just letting yourself in with the food in your hands. The girls cheered when they saw you, Caitlin and Steph, tackling you into a hug, almost making you drop the food. 

“We already made our teams; Katie your with Vic; Leah and Y/N are together.” You gave Beth a pleading look, “Nope, no running from her anymore,” she whispered into your ear, pushing you towards your partner. Leah could see the fear in your eyes. 

“Hold on, Williamson,” Katie announced, dragging you to Kim’s bedroom. "Katie, switch with me,” you practically begged her. “No, remember what we talked about?” “I choose not to remember it” 

“You really like her, right?” You slowly nodded. Yes,  you liked Leah, but the fear of being humiliated overtook that. “Then actually tell her, if she doesn’t like you, there’s lots of girls out there for you.” 

“Katie. I don’t want to make anything awkward.” Katie put an arm around your shoulder and led you back to the team. “Nothing will be awkward; at least you had the guts to admit your feelings,” she shrugged. You took a seat beside Leah, trying to calm yourself. 

“Um, I can ask someone to switch if you want.” Leah silently hoped you rejected that offer; this was probably the only time she would be able to actually talk to you without you running off to Kate. 

“It’s okay, we can be partners.” You slowly started to gain confidence talking to her more. It was something about her presence that kept you calm now. You were starting to wonder why you were terrified of Leah in the first place. 

————

Everyone watched as you and Leah actually conversed for once. It got to the point where the game didn’t even matter anymore; you guys were purposely losing to keep talking without any interruption in Kim’s kitchen. 

By the end of the night, you were sad, knowing you couldn't hang out with Leah anymore. You would have to go back and deal with Katie’s endless teasing the whole car ride. 

“Can I take you home?” Katie shoved you into Leah. “Finally off my plate,” she mumbled, “Well, I kind of don’t have a choice; my driver doesn’t want me anymore." Leah smiled and put an arm around your shoulder. 

“Katie, I’m taking her home." Katie just hummed and let out a tiny bye. You rolled your eyes at your friend and followed Leah out the house. 

————

The whole car ride was filled with laughter and Leah asking a bunch of questions to get to know you better. You and Leah even went to get some late night food and ate it in her car. 

"Thanks, Leah.” Leah felt proud of herself, she had never seen you smile that much around Katie, so that was a big accomplishment to her. 

“Let me walk you,” she quickly got out of the car, following you inside the building. “I’m sorry,” you spoke as you got to your front door. 

“About what?” “Ignoring you, I was just nervous.” Leah panicked a bit. “Did I make you uncomfortable?” You quickly denied that. 

“I like you, Leah; a little bit too much though." Leah let out an ‘oh’. “It’s okay if you don’t-“ 

“I do,” she cut you off. “I do. I like you a lot.” You stood there awkwardly, not knowing what to say now. 

“Date?” She spoke again, "Date." Leah mentally cheered, “Okay, tomorrow, movie night? I know a friend that could get us reservations at a fancy restaurant.” 

“I think a movie night is perfect.'' Leah nodded. “Okay, I’ll pick you up. Wear something comfy.” 

She gave you a tight hug, blushing when you kissed her cheek. 

As she made her way back outside, she couldn’t believe it. Just one night changed everything between the two of you, and now the last thing to do was get Katie to tell her your favorite movies and snacks. 

#woso x reader #woso #woso fanfics #arsenal wfc x reader #arsenal wfc #leah williamson #leah williamson x reader

[etz-ashashiyot]

You know how sometimes arguing a point is losing?

Like if you engage the argument at all you are inherently putting up for debate things that should never be up for debate and the argument itself is degrading?

You see this with interpersonal gaslighting:

A gaslighter doesn’t simply need to be right. They also need for you to believe that they are right. In stage one, you know that they’re being ridiculous, but you argue anyways. You argue for hours, without resolution. You argue over things that shouldn’t be up for debate  – your feelings, your opinions, your experience of the world. You argue because you need to be right, you need to be understood, or you need to get their approval. In stage one, you still believe yourself, but you also unwittingly put that belief up for debate. In stage two, you consider your gaslighter’s point of view first and try desperately to get them to see your point of view as well. You continue to engage because you’re afraid of what their perspective of you says about you. Winning the argument now has one objective :  proving that you’re still good, kind, and worthwhile. In stage three, when you’re hurt, you first ask, “What’s wrong with me?” You consider their point of view as normal. You start to lose your ability to make your own judgements. You become consumed with understanding them and seeing their perspective. You live with and obsess over every criticism, trying to solve it.

[Source]

But you also see this on a broader societal level, with people asking unfathomably awful questions about minority groups, such as:

[Source]

It should go without saying, but no group of people should be forced to explain that yes, they really are real people, dickheads. The question doesn't deserve an answer; it deserves at best a disgusted eyeroll + "Are you a Nazi?" and at worst a punch to the face.

There is also the related phenomenon of the "when did you stop beating your wife?" type questions. The question is framed as a yes or no question, but the real answer for the innocent is: "I've never beaten my wife and never would." But even that answer still dignifies the question with a real response and puts the idea in the mind of the listener that hey maybe that's a real possibility and this guy is lying because of course he wouldn't just admit that. Now I don't know what to believe, but I'm skeptical.

Even if he answers, doubt has been cast on his character and many people (maybe even most people) neither have the attention span to listen to his full counter argument and supporting evidence nor are invested enough in strangers' lives to take the time to dig for facts on their own. Critically, it comes from a good impulse that shouldn't be repressed or taken too far in the opposite direction; namely, that we want to believe survivors and make it socially acceptable to speak out about abuse.

This leaves us with the uncomfortable reality that balancing believing survivors and whistle-blowers against not automatically believing allegations that very well may be false and/or in bad faith is a very tricky balancing act indeed. Because of this, people tend to struggle with taking survivors seriously and with presuming innocence until guilt has actually been proven, both. And as for the latter, this is at least partially due to the same psychological factors underlying the Don't Think of an Elephant problem.

Why am I discussing this?

See the thing is that these types of discourse have all been used, heavily, against the Jewish community, especially since Oct 7th, but really going back hundreds of years.

If you want to be our ally, you need to be on guard for how people use this rhetoric to accuse Jews of absolutely batshit cookoo bananas allegations (like being lizard people or having horns, or secretly running the world, or killing Christian babies to use their blood in our matzah, etc. etc.) and get away with it. Now obviously if so many people weren't already racist towards Jews as a people and had a vested interest in maintaining their supercessionist cultural worldview from Christianity and Islam, it would be a lot harder for this to work. Alas, the past 2000 years has created a bit of a snowballing effect.

This culminates in the effect described so well by Sartre:

Never believe that anti-Semites are completely unaware of the absurdity of their replies. They know that their remarks are frivolous, open to challenge. But they are amusing themselves, for it is their adversary who is obliged to use words responsibly, since he believes in words. The anti-Semites have the right to play. They even like to play with discourse for, by giving ridiculous reasons, they discredit the seriousness of their interlocutors. They delight in acting in bad faith, since they seek not to persuade by sound argument but to intimidate and disconcert. If you press them too closely, they will abruptly fall silent, loftily indicating by some phrase that the time for argument is past.

— Jean-Paul Sartre

Right now, Jews are facing extreme levels of these types of rhetorical abuse, and are receiving very little help in the way of pushback.

We have to stop trying to explain ourselves and start just naming these tactics instead.

#antisemitism #המצב™️ #jumblr #how to argue

[wildestdreamsblog]

Latibule Season 2: III

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader (Mafia/Detective AU)

Summary: In which he lost his latibule.

Warnings: Secret Identity, Yandere behavior, Obsessiveness, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, Violence, Mention of death, Disability, Sexual themes, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.

A/N: As promised :) Leave a comment or reblog if you enjoy!

GIF by urmingirl

Masterlist, Latibule 2.II

Taehyung looked up from his cellphone to his eldest hyung that was currently cooking their dinner. He pouted when he was not given the appropriate amount of attention he should be given. Honestly, he deserved it! After a moment when he still did not get what he wanted, he finally asked the question he had been dying to know the answer to.

“Hyung, is it always like that?”

“Hmm? Like what, Tae?” he asked while chopping diligently the vegetables the renowned doctor was preparing for a certain psychologist and his brothers that insisted they were hungry as well.

“When it ends…does it always hurt like that?”

Seokjin blinked at Taehyung’s unprompted question. He paused before he finally brought his eyes to the actor. He knew that the younger man had always been eccentric. His clinical condition definitely explained his behavior, but not this. He was never curious about the emotions he couldn’t feel, nor did he ever show any interest on understanding emotions. As the years passed by, Kim Taehyung got better at masking and pretending by learning the root causes of the emotions he could see. The brothers had always thought that this was precisely why he chose to be an actor. Everytime they watched him cried, laughed, or acted furious for his movies and dramas, they thought he was a different person.

Jin thought it was just understandable why he dropped the knife he was holding.

“What brought this on?”

“He-“ he lifted his mobile phone to show Jin the picture Jimin snapped of their Yoongi hyung looking like he had lost all his will to live. Taehyung found it so ridiculous that Jimin even made a collage of him and a cat that depicted their hyung. “-looks like breathing is a chore and is only fighting to live so he can end his enemies.”

Jin would have laughed had this happened before he met his sunshine. But now, the mere thought of her leaving set him on edge, and he knew he would be similar to Yoongi if not worse. Slowly, he picked up his knife as he carefully chose his words. He was always like this with Taehyung ever since he knew that something was not quite right in his mind, well…more than any of them, to be honest. The younger man took things at face value, and all the brothers knew to talk in a straightforward manner so there wouldn’t be any confusion on Taehyung’s part.

He kidded you not, once when they were still teenagers, they asked him to go ahead and get them a table in a restaurant. He left without any qualms only to return not an hour later carrying a big ass table from a restaurant. That was a horrifying memory, Jin thought, and that was when they all decided to change the way they talked. It was Namjoon that took it too far and enrolled the man in a body language class to better cope with society. However, it was Jungkook that forced him to take psychology classes with him for fun.

“I think it’s different,” Jin started, busying himself once again with cooking. “Yoongi never has love like that, I guess. It’s understandable that he acts like a sad lonely cat.”

Seokjin could still clearly remember how Yoongi looked at you. It was like you were all he ever wanted and more, like you were his reprieve from the darkness in his life. You were, as he called you, an angel to him. And then he lost you.

“Why?”

“Well…she’s his personal slice of heaven,” he answered, his voice contemplative and understanding of what Yoongi was going through. Jin paused in his chopping, a thoughtful expression crossing his features as he carefully considered his words. “And he’s been living in hell the very moment he was born. What do you think would happen if he was given a taste of heaven and then lost it?”

“Just like Hoseok hyung,” Taehyung nodded, slightly understanding the downfall of these strong men.

“Seriously, you are all worse than the ahjummas who love to talk about other people’s lives. Be better than that, guys,” Kim Namjoon observed with his deadpanned voice as soon as he walked in the kitchen. He took in the scene of the two men conversing and the other man quietly eating the snack Jin prepared him.

Jin scoffed as he rolled his eyes at Namjoon. “As if you wouldn’t react like that when your secretary finally resigns.”

To which, Namjoon only smirked. “Who says she can leave?”

“How will you stop her and her son if the father finally shows up?”

Namjoon, with his hand in his pocket, calmly uttered words that no normal people would believe to have any other meaning. “Well, as you said, the dead don’t exactly come back to life, do they?”

 Jin chuckled at Namjoon. Of course, he did something about that man. It was apparent, he thought. He could still vividly remember the look in Namjoon’s eyes when he told him that his secretary was pregnant and that the asshole of a father even put his hands on her. Suffice to say, it was the most unhinged Namjoon ever was.

“I think Namjoon will be the worst among us if he ever loses the love of his life,” Jin noted with lightness in his voice.

“Nah,” Jungkook finally lifted his head from his bowl. “I sincerely think it’ll be Taehyung.”

The conversation never left Jeon Jungkook’s mind. Anyway, he didn’t need anyone to tell him to do this. He did this out of the bond he shared with his brothers. Had this happened to any among them, he would have done the same.

He thought that it was cruel to let them experience the same hell he had been living every single day.

And so, he worked tirelessly and utilized every available technology and connection he had just to look for Yoongi’s angel. When he said she was alive, when he said he felt in his heart that you could have not gone where he couldn’t follow, then he’d believed him. He wouldn’t lose anything by looking for you, Jungkook rationalized. But he didn’t want to unnecessarily get his brother’s hopes up until he had evidence that you were indeed alive.

One morning, it finally happened. There you were.

Jungkook’s eyes could not have gone any bigger as he watched the CCTV of a far province in his office.

That was you, he was sure.

Without a moment's hesitation, he reached for his phone and dialed the person he knew he could trust. "Hyung, can you come to my office?" he requested urgently, the excitement and disbelief evident in his voice.

“That’s her,” Kim Namjoon validated after a moment. He was standing beside Jungkook’s seated form as he leaned in the monitor. He was ever the image of calmness with his hand in his pocket, his suit immaculate and not a crease in sight.

Seokjin raised his brows as he sat in a relaxed manner on the couch. Jungkook didn’t even call him, yet he was here because he was, per his words, bored and that a certain sunshine was not where she should be. “So the dead can indeed come back to life,” he noted with a tone the two men couldn’t understand. “Pray tell, Namjoon-ah. Should we tell Yoongi?”

Jungkook blinked at the rising tension between the two men. Whereas Jin merely looked curious, Namjoon looked like he was looking at the end of the sword with the way his jaw was clenched. He stood up straight and took a second to answer Seokjin.

“Of course, hyung. This is a great news, after all.”

“Hmm,” Seokjin smirked, his legs crossed as though nothing could have fazed him. It was moment like this when Jungkook could see the mafia prince in his usually playful hyung. Everybody knew not to cross this man despite him appearing goofy and motherlike to them.

Jungkook thought that it would only take one momentous catastrophe for him to return to his dark persona. He didn’t want to see that, though.

“He’s suffered enough, right?” Jin asked the room with a light tone, yet his eyes pierced through Namjoon’s. “Right, Namjoon-ah?”

Seven Mississippis passed before he answered. Jungkook knew because he counted, and he hated the tension he didn’t know why was present.

“Jungkook, tell Yoongi hyung,” Namjoon ordered.

—-

Min Yoongi’s brows were pulled together as he walked in a bustling street of a faraway province. He had to drive almost four hours just because their maknae told him to be here at this exact hour, claiming that he desperately needed him to be there. However, Jungkook was not answering his phone despite numerous calls from him.

Where was even that little shit, Yoongi asked himself as he surveyed the whole place.  

Despite barely getting any sleep, he found himself in a situation where he might have to scold his youngest brother for the first time. He should have been in Seoul right now, but he couldn’t exactly say no to him. He had shit ton of things to do and yet he was indulging the youngest brother.

Maybe this was exactly why he was spoiled? Ah, but anyway, he was a good kid.

So where was he?!

He walked further into the thick of the plaza, his phone plastered in his ear as he listened to the annoying and incessant ringback tone of Jungkook. Seriously, at this day and age? His eyes roamed the area of happy locals, at which he rolled his eyes.

He was on the verge of deciding whether he should just go ahead and kill Jungkook when he finally answered.

“Where the fuck are you?” he growled over the other line, his patience running thin when the man just answered innocently.

“At Seoul, hyung-“

“Then why am I here?! I swear to heavens, if you made me drive here just to buy you a weird snack then I’ll really kill you!”

“Seokjin hyung will be mad!”

Right. The eldest was protective of the youngest. What a nuisance, he thought. “Then I’ll do it in secret.”

Jungkook chuckled nervously. He couldn’t place whether he was joking or not. His money was that if his hyung could get away with it, he’d be floating in the river at this very moment. “I asked you to go there because I have a surprise for you, hyung.”

“I don’t particularly enjoy surprises-” he began, but was swiftly interrupted.

“I know, I know. But this one, I’m sure you’ll like. This is the most beautiful, most precious, most amazing surprise ever. You’ll stop sulking and looking like a sad cat and Jimin hyung will finally stop taking badly captured and cropped photos of you and make it into a collage. Taehyung hyung will stop observing your miserable demeanor for his next movie. You’ll finally stop living like it’s such a chore and-“

His back was bumped by a force. Turning around, he prepared to glare at the perpetrator only to stop because there it was.

There was you.

It was as if the universe finally said that he had enough and stopped punishing him because he saw you when he was not even looking for you. Your mouth hanged agape, your hand going to your forehead as you murmured apologies to him.

He was stunted. No, he was bewildered.

Was this real? Or was this one of his cruel dreams again, a figment of his mind playing tricks on him?

But no.

He had been living in hell, yet moment he heard your voice, all the sufferings disappeared. This was really you. You were truly alive. He was frozen as his wildest dream was brought into life. His whole body went into a state of shock, something that he never thought could ever happen.

It didn’t really matter the years he spent without you because one touch, one word- these were all it took for him to forget the bitterness your separation brought him.

With a trembling voice, Yoongi dared to call for you. “Ange-”

But before he could say another word, you interrupted, your voice light and apologetic.

“I’m really sorry, mister. I didn’t see you,” you chuckled, slightly lifting your walking stick to explain the small accident. You bowed down at the man before going your way.

And he stood there, watching as the love of his life walked away from him, unseeing. He thought he could no longer hurt. He thought that nothing could have fazed him any longer. But he was wrong. Watching you walked, unseeing as you traversed the plaza with only your walking stick pained him.

How did this happen to you?

Was it because of the incident?

Was that why you couldn’t return to him? Because you weren’t able to?

Or did he miss all the glaring signs?

Slowly, he lifted the old phone you gifted him years ago to his ear. “You didn’t stop looking for her?”

Jungkook was quiet for a moment. “Well…I would never wish this hell on anyone, much less my brother,” he stated, his voice carrying a certain tone of sadness they often heard from him. “Go get her, hyung.”

The bustling city streets faded into a blur around you as you walked, your steps slow and deliberate despite the cacophony of noise that surrounded you. Your sight may have been almost gone, but your other senses seemed to have sharpened in response, each sound and scent painting a vivid picture in his mind.

You remembered that when you were younger, you read a passage from a book entitled, ‘The Song of Achilles’. You thought it was a well-written book, a love that transcended even death. There was a line your college friends always thought to be a masterpiece. But you never understood it. The line so many people loved never really touched you.

Until it did.

Until you understood each word written in that book.

“I could recognize him by touch alone, by smell; I would know him blind, by the way his breaths came and his feet struck the earth. I would know him in death, at the end of the world.”

Because right now, the words made sense. You could recognize him despite your deteriorating eyesight. You knew him. He was here. And he was following you…to what exactly? Was he here to end you? Was he here to make sure that you wouldn’t tell the world of his secret identity?

Regardless of the reason, you tried to remain calm as Hoseok always ordered you to. You had no choice but to lead him back home, otherwise you were sure that he would be suspicious. The man that you used to love was perceptive, and any suspicious movements could alert him. From the moment you opened the front door to the time you closed it, you knew you only had a couple of seconds.

You fished the phone Hoseok gave you, one with tactile buttons and controls that made it easier for you to use it. You knew you couldn’t use the speech-to-text feature, otherwise he’d hear. And so, with a tense movement, you sent a message to him.

He’s here. Don’t come home. Leave with my son.

#bts fic #yandere bts #bts fanfic #bts yandere #min yoongi x you #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi fic #min yoongi x y/n #mafia bts fic #yandere min yoongi #suga x y/n

[whispereons]

Oracle!Reader Part 24

Masterlist - Part 1, Part 23

Warning! My AU is yandere and can involve gore. Sensitive topics appear in this series. This chapter is a bit bloody but not that bad.

In all honesty, you never expected to be the one to say ‘no’ to a proposal. Love wasn't something you frequently chased, and being a heartbreaker was even farther from your mind.

Maybe that's why you laughed so merrily at Zhongli’s face when you rejected him.

Then again, he wasn't proposing his heart, nor his love. Morax, Rex Lapis, or rather  Zhongli was offering an alliance of mutual benefit.

“What's your reasoning for rejecting my proposal? I may not marry you as the Geo Archon, but I'm not undesirable as I am now.”

He takes a moment to think as his fingers taps on his chin. The way the diamond of his iris shrinks and the slight grimace on his face raises a red flag in your mind. 

“You aren’t rejecting me solely due to the fact that I’m not operating as this country’s Archon are you?”

.

.

.

The smile on your face becomes tight as your hand shakes with the unmeasurable amount of effort to not flip him off right there. Just what did you do that could have caused such a stupid reasoning to come from his usually smart mouth?

“What the fuck made you think that I even gave a shit about you being an Archon?” Well maybe you couldn’t hold your tongue, but granted you didn’t really need to either.

The man bristles, but ultimately doesn’t answer your question, choosing to instead repeat the first question. “Why are you rejecting my proposal, then?”

“Because you don’t love me.”

“I could learn to love you.”

“But that goes against the terms and conditions of what a marriage is supposed to consist of.”

This brings Zhongli to a halt as he stews on your answer. With a smaller voice, he continues, “The legalities of our marriage would be decided on what vows we utter during the ceremony.”

“Not according to the Creator.” It’s like saying ‘no you’ in an argument, especially with how Zhongli’s face contorts into clear annoyance. 

“With what proof do you claim that as the truth? Nothing in any scriptures on Teyvat says that.” He seems to realize what answer you’ll give him even before you open your mouth by sighing.

“Because I’m the Oracle.” The self-satisfied smirk on your face is clear as you step closer to poke his chest. “Unless you’re suddenly going to claim that I’m wrong? Should we cut off another limb? Maybe your pitiful rat-tail as an ornament to decorate it.”

He pushes you away by your head, the material of your mask is cool under his fingers as you let him push you back with a laugh. He tsks at your antics and smoothly replies.

“Have you finished laughing? There’s no need to pick at my appearance when I wouldn’t do the same to you, whenever you would have shown me your face once we wed.”

Light laughter calms down into a brief hum as you take in his words. It’s all just a well-timed cover-up for the internal panic that you had at realizing that marrying him would mean being forced to reveal yourself one way or another.

“Fair point. Do you really want a serious answer from me anyway?” The swift conversation turn doesn’t go unnoticed by Zhongli, but he concedes by answering.

“Yes. Your reasoning may bring me more information on the Creator’s personal beliefs, or even aspects of humanity that I failed to learn firsthand yet.”

“Like rejection?” The smart-ass reply is met with an unimpressed stare as he comments. “Humorous, but not incorrect.”

“I wasn’t completely joking when I said that it’s mostly due to the Creator. Marriage in Liyue at least is mostly decided by the parents.” Your chapped lips become a bit more manageable to speak with as you lick them. “I don’t remember mine, and the closest thing you have to a parent is the Creator themselves, or maybe Teyvat?” Which was a weird thought, but you couldn’t really be sure how to view it.

“Therefore your marriage, or at the very least, my marriage, considering that I was personally sent on a mission by them, should be under the Creator’s control and only theirs. My opinion on it shouldn’t matter.” This was how you remembered China’s history worked, so Liyue hypothetically should have a similar system.

Zhongli’s frown deepens at your answer as you shrug your shoulders. As if you didn’t just make this whole answer up so that you can avoid marrying the ticking time bomb that wouldn’t hesitate to murder you in a split second.

Sure, there was increasing evidence that your acolytes gained this weirdly strong attachment to you, but you weren’t betting your entire life on it. The moment the mask was gone, your life was going to follow it.

“Then it seems I can do nothing but accept your teaching. Thank you for enlightening me on a topic that I was unaware about. Can I chalk this up to something you learned about from the scriptures written in Cloud Ret-”

He cuts himself off as he looks down at the bustling streets below the balcony. “Xianyun’s old abode? The one’s written in indecipherable language?”

Damn, you really forgot about Cloud Retainer’s humansona. Just thinking about accidentally running into her during your visit to Madam Ping makes you irritated in advance.

“No, there are other scriptures that the Creator led me to when I was exploring.” You didn’t want Zhongli trying to trace it back to Cloud Retainers introvert cave. In fact, it was more entertaining to visualize Zhongli searching every nook and cranny of Liyue’s vast lands for said ‘scriptures’.

The sun hits your eyes directly from its position as you try to guess the time. It had to be at least 3:30 at this point, right? Just how much time did you have to see Madam Ping before the dinner with Ningguang?

Who were you even kidding, you didn’t know how to tell the time by the sun. You’ll have to ask someone once you finish rejecting Zhongli.

Noticing your far off gaze and attention no longer on him, Zhongli let the petty, unexplainable indignation at the action simmer as he forcefully turned your body to face the door.

“I believe I’ve taken up more than enough of your time. You’d best be on your way to whatever task may be next on your schedule today.”

Now you feel pretty bad about spacing out like that. “Sorry Zhongli, I was just trying to figure out the time-” Your words seemed to go ignored as he pushed you out the doorway.

“Don’t bother worrying.” Is his brief response. The touch and pressure of his hands is firm and reliable in a way you can’t fully describe, before they’re removed swiftly as if he was burned. “Instead, you can focus on relaying your gratitude the next time we meet.”

Before you can question the strange sentence, the door is already slammed shut in your face. The whiplash of his actions settles as you stare at the wood in bewilderment. Instinctive, your feet lead you back down the stairs as you toss Zhongli’s sudden attitude and words in your mind.

Surely you weren’t that rude? You’ve done and said much worse things to him after all. Replaying your conversation yielded no new revelations, so with a sense of unease, you decide to take his push for your departure as his weird version of sulking.

What he expected you to thank him for wasn’t something you were going to worry about now. The sun shines on you, making the mask a bit warmer against your skin as you exit the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor. 

If he didn’t bother explaining what you should be thanking him for, then it must be something either very big or very noticeable. Walking past where the balcony was, you look up and can only spot the empty chairs and simple table.

Time will tell, you suppose.

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

You aren’t completely sure how you expected your meeting with Madam Ping to go, but being stuck inside the temple with your neck being examined carefully by the older woman wasn’t a possibility you had in mind.

“Um, Madam Ping, I’m quite sure Xianyun’s claw marks aren’t there anymore. They’ve long healed at this point.”

“Child, you shouldn’t brush off injuries left by the Adepti so easily. Many can leave varying, strange and frankly annoying effects that can permanently alter your body if not taken care of.”

Sighing, you use your right arm to sip the tea Ping generously made for you, as your left arm was also being examined for any amber fragments from Mountain Shaper.

“You really don’t have to worry. Dr. Baizhu was the one who healed me up, so there’s nothing off about my body.” Ping relents and lets you fix your clothing as she steps away.

It was honestly surprising when she first spotted you and immediately apologized for her Adepti companion's actions. Yaoyao and Shuyu, Xianyun’s youngest disciple, were quick to be corralled away as Madam Ping brought you to one of the smaller rooms for examination.

“It must be an illuminated bird quality to be somewhat violent toward me. Maybe when I meet Xiao, I’ll get an injury from him too.” The joke slips out easily, but when Ping sighs and shakes her head in disapproval, you’re quick to shut your mouth.

“That would be even worse, as the karmic debt can be accidentally seeped into your wound that way.” Each sentence Ping says is clear worry, so you can’t be too annoyed at the slight nagging.

“Even still, I hope you have it in your heart to pray that the Creator forgive my headstrong and stubborn companions.” And here’s the catch. “I’m afraid it hasn’t been long since any of them have been trying this hard to understand humans on a personal level, so they tend to revert into their more proud egos when faced with the unexpected.”

There it was, all the excuses. You were really hoping Ping wouldn’t be the kind enabler that asks the victim to forgive the assaulter under the guise of some excuse. You’ve dealt with more than enough back on earth when bullies actually had abuse and other fucked up shit going on at home. 

Likewise, you weren’t about to put up with it from some ‘illuminated beings’ that had more than enough years to learn how not to be judgmental sad sacks of shi-

“I’ll still properly scold them for you, but it’s the Creator’s opinion that I’m truly concerned about.” Would you get in trouble for punching her? Probably. Yanfei is close with her and the best lawyer in existence.

It wasn’t worth it, you told yourself. It wasn’t worth it to argue with Ping about whether it was okay for the Adepti to hurt you or anyone else, solely depending on how connected they were to the Creator. It absolutely wasn’t worth it to point out how the Adepti’s lack of control over their emotions and harsh judgements couldn’t just be scolded away. And that they definitely weren’t allowed to get away with unneeded violence simply because they’re stubborn.

The building tension as Ping continued to ramble and your death grip on your pants was broken by Yanfei walking in while looking off to the side.

“Granny, I heard you came - Oh. Hello there!”  Yanfei’s casual greeting had you melting back into the oracle position as you smile calmly at Yanfei. 

“Hey, nice to meet you. I was just talking with-” You’re cut off by Ping moving to stand in front of Yanfei and begin to explain and introduce you. Including the fact that the other Adepti attacked you and that you were the oracle.

Well, it’s better than you retelling the story. It’s better to let others lie for you, especially considering the close relations. It’s not like Ping’s way of speaking was fast or overwhelming, it just felt like you would be wrong for whatever reason if you tried interfering.

Doesn’t stop the surge of annoyance, though.

Deciding to just leave as soon as possible and not get into a fist fight with a hidden Adeptus, you move off the bed and walk closer to the duo. Without much trouble, you’re able to slip past them until a hand tugs your wrist quickly before releasing it.

“Sorry, but I just wanted to introduce myself to you before you leave. My name is Yanfei. I'm the top legal advisor in Liyue.” A business card is handed to you as she speaks.

Accepting it, you examine the card to not be rude before stuffing it into your bag. While you’ll probably forget about it, it’s not bad to have it in case you visit Fontaine. Or if things with Ninggnuang get into legal territory.

What actually got your attention was how Yanfei went through the trouble of cutting off Ping to speak personally to you. Could this be the first Adepti related character to treat you with respect as a normal person?

The fact that you’re amazed by basic human decency is pretty fucking sad. The difference in treatment between her and Ganyu despite both of them being half-adeptus is staggering.

“Thank you. Just as Madam Ping explained, my name is Y/N, and I’m an Oracle for the Creator.” At least the old woman didn’t butt in yet. “Yaoyao visited me yesterday to meet her. I just didn’t expect to meet you here as well.”

“You suit your position rather well.” Her head tilts slightly to the side, making the Mora decorations jingle. “Although I haven’t met you before, just by your appearance alone I can guess that you’re either-” A finger is raised. “A - you’re not from here. Or B - you don’t have a traditional job.” The second finger joins the first as she takes in your appearance in completion.

“I would put inhuman beings or vision holders on the list, but your aura is completely that of a human, but also not one of a vision holder. In a way, you remind me of the traveler.”

“It does make sense.” You reply with a noncommittal shrug. “The traveler was the first Acolyte, and I’m the first Oracle, so there’s bound to be some uncanny similarities between us.” 

Madam Ping wistfully sighs at the mention of the traveler. “Ah yes, the Hero of Liyue. I was able to gift them that teapot, but what a shame that I don’t have another one to spare for you, esteemed Oracle.”

And here comes the half-praise, half-demeaning words that’s meant to belittle you into feeling worthless while giving meager praise to make her sound generous. 

“There would be no need to, since I intend on enjoying our God’s creations rather than hiding away from it in an Adeptal piece of machinery.” A wide grin adorns your face with canines clear to see, but your voice is as excited as a child’s with innocence clear.

Those that hear you would assume nothing but ignorance at fault, but the ones that can see how your eyes dimly gleam with mockery would think otherwise.

Isn’t it so good that Yanfei is by your side while Ping is in front of you?

The words clearly hit a nerve, as Ping’s smile drops into a horribly wrinkled frown. Yanfei’s teal eyes look between you two with a smile that dissolves into a confused furrow of her brows.

“My apologies, child, I was unaware that you were so deprived of empathy for others that you can reduce the hard work of the Creator’s chosen protectors of this land into a symbol of defilement.” The last few words are scathing as her face contorts into a gruesome mess of sagging skin.

“Granny, I understand why you’re mad but-” Yanfei takes a step forward, but is cut off by Ping raising her hand while stepping closer to you.

“I can now understand why Shenhe, that poor pitiful child, was so conflicted about her emotions toward you. I may not understand why the Creator chose a human of your breed to have that holy position, but I can only pray that this journey teaches you a lesson concerning those that you have wronged in this way.”

“Granny!” Yanfei yells in shock as she moves between you two, “How could you say something like that to them? You’re not only insulting them, you’re also insulting the Creator!” 

She turns around to face you as she shots a grimace behind her at the fuming hag. “I am so sorry about this, you should probably go now.” 

Nodding with a sad expression, you speak in a confused tone. “I-I understand. It was nice meeting you and Madam Ping. I hope we can talk again sometime.” Twisting open the doorknob and pushing it open, you sneak one last peek into the room.

Yanfei has her back to you as she yells on a whisper level. Ping doesn’t look all that pleased until her eyes stray to yours. The smugness practically rolls off you in waves as she scorns at you with disgust. 

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

It was official.

You were lost.

Looking at the doors and people walking around you, you tried to remember what path you took with Ping. But each door looked the same, with different people rushing in and out.

None of them even had time to talk to you as they wheeled out screaming and bleeding people from room to room. You got glimpses of dressings pressed haphazardly on wounds as you continued walking.

Surely you still had enough time until Ningguang’s dinner?

Trying not to freak out over the time, you continue marching throughout the seemingly endless hallways and avoid bumping into the doctors, nurses and more that rush around you. Eventually you arrive at an area of the building that looks a bit calmer.

You spot a woman wearing a dress looking similar to a work uniform and decide to ask her for directions leading out of the temple. You’re about to call out to her when she opens a door and enters it while cheerfully calling out.

“Thank you so much for all the help despite your busy schedule!” She continues to walk in, giving a half-hearted push to close it. 

Sneakily, you plant your foot right at the hinge of it, making it stop before it actually closes. A sense of déjà vu nags you as you stand outside the room with your head resting against the wall. You close your eyes to listen to the conversation.

“It’s no trouble at all, Daiyu. I always enjoy volunteering to help those who offer sacrifices to the Creator here.” There’s a light tilt to the voice while remaining sturdy, a good indicator that the speaker is who you think it is.

“Even so, as the Yuheng of Liyue, you still have many duties. Much more than you did when you first began to help out all those years ago…” The anxious woman is met with a brief chuckle.

“As I’ve said before, Daiyu, you can call me Keqing during these times. I’m not here as the Yuheng, but as a servant of our God to learn more.” The faint click of heels can be heard as drawers of what you assume are bandages are opened.

“Well, have you finally come to a conclusion? You know about whether self-mutilation is an ‘overdone’ and an ‘inferior’ way of worshiping the Creator?” The question is met with brief silence before Keqing responds.

“I’ve already made up my mind around the same time as Rex Lapis’s death. Self-mutilation isn’t exactly wrong per se, but it should not be our main way of worship. Our bodies were painstakingly crafted by the Creator’s hands and should not be abused. It’s why I’ve strived to keep myself in perfect shape.”

A sigh can be heard with an almost bitter note.

“But humans can not regrow lost limbs. Thus, I do not believe self-mutilation is the best way for humanity to worship the gods. Blood offerings and even human offerings of other criminals can be done, but I believe that self-mutilation should be left for extreme sins and for the Adepti to present.”

With eyes trained to the blood-stained floorboards beneath your feet, you push yourself off the wall. It seemed you weren’t going to gain any useful information from here. 

“The public won’t accept that kind of view that goes against what we’ve been taught for thousands of years. Then again, that never stopped you before - Aw, damn it! There’s barely any medical supplies here, too.”

The tapping of your feet walking away is concealed by the clicking of heels.

“There’s nothing left? Ugh, probably Ningguang again. She’s always doing this stuff.”

But perhaps you should have stayed just a bit longer. 

“The Tianquan?! Oh, please don’t let her know what I said! I quite like my job!”

“Relax, Daiyu, she wouldn’t care about your complaints even if she did hear them.”

“Then why are you frowning like that?”

You never know what you might hear.

“It’s just a bit strange to me. Not long ago she was doing all sorts of planning with an annoyed expression, but this morning she was pleased. She must have either taken care of whatever was bothering her or hatched the perfect, foolproof plan for it.”

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

Thankfully, you did manage to find your way back to the first floor. (When did you even walk up the stairs?) Most of the people there were rather calm, with incense and prayer rooms decorating this floor. 

The smell was of cinnamon and something with a strong woody scent. The one’s in the prayer rooms had healed scars exposed, either doing a full floor bow or at least on their knees.

If they had them, at least.

It was a gruesome sight if you were to be honest. Some had skin raw red from what looked like boil scars, others with self-inflicted writing carved into their skin. Words like; ‘Holy One’, ‘Savior’, and the most popular one of all: ‘Beloved Creator’ were in some way permanently branding their skin.

The wind blew from a certain hallway, as if Teyvat was trying to finally lend you a hand in leaving this temple of smoke and blood. Taking long strides past the rooms that muttered and screamed at varying levels and intervals, you see a set of wide doors.

WHAM

The whir of a sliding door before it slams into the doorway is all you hear before a hand is wrapped firmly around your wrist and pulling you into the dark room. Your breath is knocked out of you as the soles of your shoes search for purchase.

Your hands reach up to where you were grabbed to dig into the scalp of your assailant before you both fall to the ground from the struggle. 

“Let go of me!” You grit out as the slender fingers continue trying to pin you down. A feminine grunt of pain is heard as you finally manage to push her away, making your assaulter hit the wall.

Like hell! You weren’t just going to leave after being attacked for no fucking reason. Rushing forward, you pin the person against the wall as your eyes adjust to the dark room. Silvery hair can be seen in a tangle between your fingertips as you hold her wrists against the wall.

“Shenhe, what the fuck were you thinking? Are you still pissed at me? I thought we cleared it all up.” With a mix of anger, disbelief and pure confusion, you stare at her face as her features slowly become more defined.

“I just wanted to see you again…” The kicked puppy look is not suiting the bloody bandages wrapped around her left eye. Or what used to be her eye. “I didn’t hurt you this time.”

“Dragging an unsuspecting person into a dark room isn't not hostile either, Shenhe.” She simply stares at you in silence, as if she’s incompetent enough to not understand your words. “We almost fought to our deaths last time we met. How am I not supposed to assume that you’re trying to hurt me?”

Shenhe’s head drops a little bit as her mouth opens and closes repeatedly with no success. After giving her a moment, you sigh with a hint of annoyance and let go of her. “I have to get going, Shenhe. I'm not going to sit and wait forever.”

“I’m sorry.” You glance back down at Shenhe as she sits on her knees with her hands clenched tightly on her thighs. “I’m sorry for hunting you down so insistently while framing you as someone who wronged me on a personal level.”

Could you really accept this apology when you did stab her first for killing those Hilichurls you were friends with? Then again, they did give you liquor while Shenhe convinced herself that you were an evil entity. “Thanks for the apology, but that still doesn’t change much. I spent days in Bubu Pharmacy trying not to die from all the shit you and Yelan put me through.”

“I already heard about it and saw the vivid details of your healing progress while I waited outside your window that day.” Those words alone had you whipping your head around to her as your jaw dropped.

“Shenhe, what the hell!?” She staggers back to her feet with a worrying sway before taking mute steps towards your shocked form.

“A good partner is one who is attentive and keeps detailed track of their lover's affairs and health, correct?” Trying to wrap your head around the twisted logic she presents you with, you bury your face in your hands.

“Yes, but not in the context of our relationship.” You stress as your arm automatically reaches out to stop her from swaying to the ground. With your hand firmly on her arm, you continue to speak. “I know that you don’t really use that word often considering Xianyun’s teachings, but it’s pretty fucking important.”

A sole iridescent blinks lazily at you before her whole body weight is pressing down on you. It’s less of a hug and more like a ‘glomp’. Deciding to hold her by her waist to prevent being crushed by the pure muscle mass that made up her body, her forehead rests on your shoulder.

It’s burning. Definitely unusual for a Cryo vision holder.

“Shenhe? Shenhe can you hear me?” You ask as her glazed over eye stares into yours with no recognition seen in them. Swinging your head around, you finally spot a blood stained coat off to the side.

“C’mon, Shenhe, just work with me a bit to get you back to bed.” You spit out as you carry more of her weight to avoid dragging her on the floor. Thankfully, she helps out by wrapping her legs around your body and despite the slight constriction, you still manage to carry her back to bed.

Dropping her on the bed, you carefully fix her up. Brushing her hair out of her face, pulling the covers back over body, and adjusting the surrounding bandages around her injured eye to fit snugly. 

She did apologize after all, it would be cruel of you to leave a person with a fever and probably an infection a mess on a bed. 

That didn’t mean you were going to stay and nurse her back to health. Ningguang was probably at the restaurant at this point, and you weren’t going to be late for it.

Turning around, you take a quiet step toward the exit until a hand wraps frantically around your wrist.

“You forgive me, right?” Heavy breathing fills the room as her sweaty skin clings to the little contact she has with you. “I apologized sincerely, I’ll do it again if I must.” A trembling eye stares into your soul as her voice breaks. “Please…”

You stare down at the disciple with an unreadable expression until a smile breaks out onto your face. Shenhe’s grip loosens as hope begins to light up. Your other hand gently removes her fingers from your wrist before you whisper.

“Why don’t you sleep on it, Shenhe?”

Her eyes slide shut from pure exhaustion as you walk away and exit the room. After taking note of the room number, you resume your short walk to the exit. A nurse is nearby and just as you pull one of the wide doors open, you lean in to whisper a brief message.

The door closes shut behind you as the nurse rushes away. With careful footsteps, you walk leisurely toward the Xinyue Kiosk. The burning stares of civilians and soldiers alike are rolled off you in waves.

It was pointless to fight with the puppets when the puppet master invited you to meet her.

A feel like this part took forever. It's just the beginning of my spring break before I have another quiz and exam. So my break is just more studying, wonderful. My editor didn't need to do much considering the small size but I also feel like this wasn't the best of my work. I did write piece by piece every few nights when I got back home dead tired. I really can't wait for this semester to end…. But I'm also really excited to get started on the dinner with Ningguang! Taglist is always open!

@vvyeislazzy, @nikqi, @the-dumber-scaramouche, @etherisy, @yourlocalstranger123, @ra404, @iruiji, @goldenglow149, @haru-tofuu, @lsleepysimpl, @bebobeboben, @yuyuzi-ling, @amidst-the-tempest, @resident-cryptid, @mxd1zzy, @mochicurls21, @nervouseaglelover, @thedevioussmirk, @yumuramma, @kwqsla, @undecidingfate, @ehjane, @game-savvy, @akiramirae, @liansh3ng, @fluffy-koalala, @formacoon, @sxftiebee, @khxii-i, @ursinaw, @chuuya-brainrot, @sweetbills, @kazuchaos, @snowfoxnix, @bluebelony, @shellofthewell, @pencil-of-ashes, @ghostlyintervention, @taiformaifoe, @goaudduck, @carminerin, @maddysflowers, @zenith-of-all-zenith, @crazydreamcat, @leafanonsforest, @grimreapersscythe, @leylanx, @sapphireknown, @help-whatdoimakemyusername

@zhonglisfruityass, @mer0n37, @victoria1676, @mochinessss, @sinnful-darling, @emilymikado, @pix-stuff, @esthelily, @luxie963, @emmbny, @starsofabundance, @kbar1013, @xxblackroses623xx, @chxrlxtteee, @aludicpoet, @yandematic, @atrcclovsxoxo, @0lshadyl0, @esthelily, @t-rex-red, @ck123, @steadybreadbluebird, @118gremlin, @stratonia, @time-shardz, @farelady-fate, @valeriele3, @francisnyx, @byakuren100, @waveto-earth, @flyingpansaurus, @silverstarred, @iamapotatoe, @ghosthii, @beloveddroplet, @uchihaeirin, @ibelieveinsleep, @idk098, @thefirstonetoeverlikemeback, @toramune, @haaaaaades, @horologiumwise, @melovaaaa, @alittletiredcry, @aphxdea, @atsukawolfcat, @desirabletravel, @pinkpainc, @eccedentesiast-sapphic, @yuyuzi-ling, @hyperfixationwhore

@juuuuuj101010, @avalordream, @kurayamioterasu, @tottybear, @koiikuno, @lynx-of-skies, @quacking-simp, @synthe4u, @kascar-chronicle, @hug4helios, @hug4helios, @silverstarred, @koiikuno, @ithoughtthinks, @remiivx, @lemonade7255, @melpomenelurks, @average-yandere-enjoyer, @mnhao, @fuji-sen, @altumsomnum

#whisp's amateur work #genshin sagau #sagau oracle au #genshin impact #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #yandere sagau #yandere x reader #sagau cult au #genshin cult au #genshin impact sagau #sagau #yandere zhongli #yandere shenhe #yandere yanfei #yandere ping #well isn't that a tag I never thought I would add #yandere #yandere keqing #a reappearance after quite some time

[squirmhoney]

TO BREAK A WIFE | NAOYA ZEN'IN

Please read all warnings carefully, my fics cover dark topic matters, that may be upsetting to certain readers. Read at your own discretion. Warnings: Dark. Arranged/Forced marriage. Non con Dub con. Spanking. Loss of virginity. Violence against reader. Abusive relationship. Forced pregnancy. Misogynistic views. Degrading views. Submissive reader. 18+ A/N: This is part 2 to a little series so if you haven’t read that, read it first.

AS ALWAYS MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! MASTER LIST HERE

-

Naoya dragged you out of that ceremony, forcing you to practically run to keep up with him. 

You knew where he was leading you to and when you reached his chambers, you were just ready for the bedding part to be over with. 

But it felt like he had something else planned, leaving you alone for what felt like hours to stew in your own thoughts. 

You wished you had taken something, had drunk more after the ceremony, something that would leave you inebriated or completely incapacitated before this happened. Something that meant you wouldn’t have to remember this day for the rest of your life. 

The air felt still when the bedroom door opened again. All you could wish for was in that moment was for the bed to swallow you whole, for anything to save you from being there. It was like everything was slowing down as he made his way towards you, only making you more aware of how fast your heart was thudding in your chest. 

You hadn’t even moved from the position he had left you in, still sitting at the edge of the bed and you only wished you had moved as he came to stand in front of you, his whole body towering over your frame. 

His fingers touched the tip of your chin, lifting your gaze to look up at him. The first thing you noticed as your eyes trailed his frame was his lack of clothing, only a thin silk robe covering him now. 

“I’ve been thinking about this for years,” Naoya confessed, hand cupping your cheek. 

You parted your lips, wanting to ask so many questions but not knowing where to begin or what the right thing would be to say. 

But he seemed to have all the answers. 

“Not the marriage part,” he shook his head at that, a smile creeping on his face. “That hadn’t really been planned at all.” His hand trailed down the column of your neck, stopping at the edge of your shiromuku. “Take it off.” 

Your fingers fumbled with the front, struggling to untie it. It was thick in layers and there was a slight tinge of hope that they’d protect you. 

But you didn’t need to worry about that, not when Naoya dropped down, kneeling in front of you just to be able to tear the material from your body. 

You had always known he was strong but to have the material torn to shreds in a matter of seconds by his hands, had you terrified. 

You had always thought you had been a strong sorcerer, if you weren’tNaoya would have never even considered you as a marriage prospect. But you knew that it was no match to take him, his strength alone would be enough to hold you down. 

He took a step back when the robe fell apart, eyes scanning over your frame as you desperately tried to cover it. 

“Hair down,”  he demanded. 

You listened, snatching the pins from your hair and placing them by your side. 

“Better.” 

“Why?” You finally asked him, cracking under the pressure of his cold stare. “Why did you decide to marry me?” 

He stalked over towards you, making you fall onto the bed as you backed away. 

You knew he could see the fear in your eyes, he was feeding off of it, and it only grew as he started to untie his robe. 

“I never desired you when we were younger,” he began to speak again, taking his time to undress himself. “Who would desire such a disobedient brat?” He shook his head, jaw clenching as he remembered something. “But after that day when you came screaming at me about your stupid friend- What was her name again?” 

“Hana.” Her name set something off in you, a burning fire your parents had pleaded you to leave behind with your teenage years. The version of you that Naoya knew. 

“Ah yes,” he flicked his fingers as if it was all coming back to him. “Hana.” 

His robe dropped from his body then and your eyes were quick to look away. 

“Look at me.” 

His voice was stern and you found yourself unable to do anything but obey. 

“That’s it.” 

He moved then, crawling onto the bed, the mattress sinking under his weight as he made his way over to you. He stopped by your feet, taking your ankle in his hand as he examined it. 

“When you came screaming at me because of her. I thought to myself how could someone ever want to marry a bitch like this.” 

His hand slithered up your subtle skin, slow and calculated, fingers tickling your calf all the way up to your mid thigh. 

“But then my brain got to thinking, how fun it would be to train the brat out of you. To completely destroy you.” 

His fingers dug into your tender flesh and you winced. 

His eyes looked at you again, the darkness still there but there was now an insatiable hunger that lingered along with it. Almost pained in nature as if he’d be completely empty if he didn’t feed it. 

Your hand grabbed his wrist, tears pricking at the corner of your eyes as you gasped, “Please, it hurts.” 

He released his hold, trailing his hand up until it was just below your cunt. 

“To break you apart,” he continued, fingers grazing your lips. “And to build you back together again.” 

You fell into the pillows as he hovered his body over you. 

“But I think your parents managed that one for me.” 

When his fingers moved, your hand reached out on instinct to push him away. 

“Or did they?” He was snickering now, snatching your hand away as he shoved it against your side. “I don’t think they did. I think she’s still there.” 

Your other hand went to push him away by his shoulders but then his free hand dove right between your thighs, not wasting any time.

“Do you remember what you said to me that day?” He asked, eyes narrowing ever so slightly as if he was genuinely curious. 

“I don’t know. Something about you being a dick and hurting my best friend,” you fumbled on the words, trying to rack your brain. 

It was near impossible when he was touching you. 

Especially when he lazily dragged a finger through your folds, a sickening grin reaching his lips as he brought his fingers to your face. His fingers were soaked, your fluids coating him and you stared at them in horror. 

“No.” He shook his head, fingers retreating back down. “After all of that.” 

You remembered. “I fear for the woman who ends up marrying you.” 

“Do you fear for yourself, Y/N?” 

His fingers slipped into your walls now, not bothering to take their time to stretch you out. He forced two of his thick fingers in, not listening to how your walls were fighting against the intrusion. 

“No, I think you wanted this all along.” 

“I never wanted this,” you hissed, thighs clamping around his hand. 

This didn’t anger Naoya like you thought it would, after all he hated disobedience. Instead it seemed to please him and he was grinning as he bound your hands to the bed, tying them to his wooden headboard. 

“There you are,” he chuckled, breath fanning against your skin as he tied your hands.

You wriggled around, trying to make it impossible but you knew it was a game you had already lost. 

“I guess I’ll get to break you after all.” 

“You’re sick,” You spat at him, leg kicking him. 

When he caught your leg, his smile finally faded, twisting into a deep scowl. 

“Do that again and I’ll break it,” Nayoa threatened, before he flipped you over. 

He moulded your body into whichever shape he found fit, burying your face into the pillows with your add stick up for him to see. 

You hated not being able to see what he was doing, having to wait for his touch in whichever form it came in. 

“Does it make you happy fighting back?” Naoya questioned, hand rubbing over the skin of your ass. “Make you feel slightly better about yourself. I mean we both know you’re not going to win.” 

“I should have fought back from the start,” you told him. “Maybe I wouldn’t have ended up here. I could have ended up with Haru.” 

His hand was sharp as it was brought down against your cheek, not just once, but several times. 

You screamed at the feel of him breaking your skin, he wasn’t even holding back as he hit you till you ass was raw red. 

“I’m not a jealous man, Y/N,” Naoya told you, slowing his pace as he took his time between smacking each cheek. “But you belong to me now and I’ll make you very aware of that. Trust me.” 

“Please,” you sobbed into the pillows.

“Please, what?” You barely heard over his brutalising hand coming against your ass a few more times. 

“Please stop,” you cried out, trying to move away from him. 

He chuckled at that, pausing his assault as if to only hear your pathetic cries. “Now why would I do that?” 

“Fuck you,” you spat, defiance still lingering there. 

“Oh you will,” he hummed before shoving his fingers in you again.

This was a different kind of torture, one mixed with pain and pleasure as he forced your walls to accommodate his thick fingers. 

In some ways you wanted this to be as painful as possible, to remind you who was doing this to you. But it hurt so much you just found yourself begging for him to stop. 

“I’m sorry,” you pleaded with him. “I’m so sorry, Naoya.”

It was the first time you had said his name and you think you both realised that. 

You couldn’t tell if he hated it or enjoyed it, only slowing down his brutal pace of his fingers for you. 

“You're so wet down there,” he pointed out, fingers toying with you know. “I just don’t believe you when you say you don’t like this.” 

A new feeling seemed to seep into your skin at that realisation. He had abused you, taunted you and was about to use you, and yet you were dripping around his fingers. You liked it.

You couldn’t quite put your tongue on what this feeling was at first, not until he spoke again. 

“Pathetic really.” 

You were pathetic. A humiliated mess.

Naoya was doing what he had always dreamed of, according to his confession earlier. He was breaking you down and you were sure by the end of it there really would be nothing left.

When he slipped a third finger in, your walls seemed to be more willing than before, sucking him in. You couldn’t even help yourself as a moan slipped from your throat, his fingers finally feeling good as they massaged your walls. 

Naoya slid his fingers out of you without warning and you bit down a whine at how empty you suddenly felt. 

“I think you’re thoroughly prepared,” he said, flipping you onto your back.

He towered over you in an instance and he didn’t even give you time to think before he was crushing his lips against yours. His lips were bruising, anything but soft as he tried to inhale you. 

It made you wonder if he had truly fantasised about this, if there had been times he actually caught himself thinking about you. 

Naoya had been a man that went through women like there had been an endless supply. You never once heard of him fuck a girl more than once, not even in more recent years. 

But the way he kissed you now and the things he had confessed about you earlier, made you believe that he had been fantasising about this a bit deeper than he was letting on. 

You don’t just marry a woman because you want to break her. If he truly wanted to do that, he could have had his way with you and still let you marry Haru. No one would have even batted an eye at that. 

The Zen’in clans delusions ran deep like it’s misogynistic values and you were sure they would have called you privileged to even be touched by Naoya. 

When you sharply moaned into Naoya, you were brought back to reality. The kiss had sent your mind reeling, snatching you of all the air from your lungs, leaving you unable to think. 

It’s why you hadn’t even noticed how he had situated himself between your thighs. You only seemed to catch on when you felt the tip of him flick against  your clit. 

“You like that?” Naoya teased, finally pulling away from you.

Your mind could barely focus on what he was saying, eyes too drawn to him sliding his cock against your folds. 

“You’re literally dripping onto my bed,” Naoya tutted, stroking himself with his hand. You could see the wetness between his fingers as he lubed himself up, the sight of it made you hate yourself even more. “Making such a mess, Y/N.” 

You wondered if this is what the girls before you had felt like in the moment. Not the sickening feeling at yourself or the hatred you felt for the man you now called husband. 

Most of them had been the ones to practically offer themselves to him. Had their minds been reeling as he pressed the tip of himself at their entrance, had this been the feeling they cried over the next day. 

You weren’t sure but the feeling made your skin feel ablaze and you wanted to scream at yourself to make it stop. 

When Naoya ducked his head down again to capture your lips, you were twisting your head away. 

Although you couldn’t see him as you stared at the wall, you knew he wasn’t impressed, feeling his body tense above you. 

It’s like you had forgotten about how cruel he could be but you were suddenly reminded as brought his hand down against your cunt. 

He didn’t even seem pleased to do it as you looked back at him, lips drawn in a thin line as if he was almost tiring of your resistance. 

Then he leant down again, eyes scanning your face as if he was questioning you to dare resist him again. 

You didn’t. When his lips touched yours, you accepted them, sliding your lips across his.

It was a distraction, keeping your mind focused on his kiss that you forgot momentarily what he was doing down there. But it didn’t last long, Naoya swallowing your protests as he finally slid into your walls. 

The feel of him inside you had you wincing, closing your eyes in some sort of hope to drown out the pain. You couldn’t help yourself as your nails clawed at the head board, urgently trying to ground yourself. 

Naoya, however, was clearly enjoying it. His lips parted ever so slightly as he sighed. His eyes half lidded as he took the sight of you breathless underneath him. 

You were glad once the burning sensation started to fade, being taken over by a pleasurable bliss that crawled all over you. Especially when Naoya was barely focusing on you anymore, picking up his pace. It was almost as if eyes were looking right through you as he lifted himself up. 

This was how you imagined he treated all of the women he had been with before as if they weren’t truly there. Like they weren’t more than just a glorified hole that to him.

He became completely oblivious to your sharp moans and soft whimpers even when you slipped out his name. He was completely lost in his own euphoric feeling, grabbing your hips with both hands as he used it as leverage, to rut faster into you. 

“Wait,” you had practically screamed at him when he started to pound into you. But your words were quickly lost on lewd noises being torn from the back of your throat. 

While Naoya became completely lost in his mission to please himself, you became lost in the tightening feeling in your stomach. You couldn’t even think properly as it grew, each thrust of his cock was stroking something in your walls that you had never felt. 

You had touched yourself before, made yourself orgasm several times but this had you babbling incoherent sentences. You wondered if Naoya could even hear you over his own thoughts. 

You felt the need to warn him, to tell him something wasn’t right but it was near impossible with your hands tied behind your back and his name dying on your tongue. But his attention started to drift back to you when your cunt began clenching around him, begging for some sort of release. 

“I think you’re about to cum,” he chuckled darkly, eyes drawing in on your face. 

The feeling only continued to grow as you felt his attention on you, lapping every expression on your face. He was hovering over you again and for some reason you seemed to believe his smile was egging you on, waiting for you to finally snap. 

You didn’t think Naoya was a person to really care about another’s pleasure but when his hips started to violently hit against yours, you were sure he was desperate for you to cum. 

So you did. 

The coil finally snapped inside of you as his thrusts got deeper, making your back arch off the bed. You were squirting all over him, your fluids literally hitting his abs and you were sure he’d be pissed at the audacity of you cumming all over him. 

But he wasn’t. 

He didn’t even seem to be paying attention down there, entranced by the sight of your face as he continued to bury himself in you. 

Was it because you had finally snapped? Finally been broken enough for him to build you up again? 

You couldn’t decipher any of this as you looked into his eyes and in reality you didn’t even want to. Instead you focused on your shallow breathing, trying to calm down the prickling sensation that had formed across your body. But that was near impossible with the way Naoya was continuing to drill into you.

Your cunt was still in overdrive with the way he was going, squeezing him as if it didn’t know what else to do. You weren’t sure if you wanted him to stop or not, so hooked on the sensation he was giving you that you found yourself numb to it all. 

“Fuck, would you stop that,” he groaned, fingers digging into the bones of your hips. 

“I can’t- I can’t help it,” you choked up. 

“It’s like your pussy is begging me to cum,” he hissed, pressing his forehead against yours. Even though he sounded angry about it, he didn’t look angry and you weren’t sure how to take it. “Do you want me to cum inside you?” 

You didn’t know what to say, too scared to say the wrong thing. 

Luckily he answered for you, spilling into you with a few sloppy thrusts. 

It was only when he stilled on top of you, both of you barely able to look at each other did reality start seeping back in. All you wanted to do was shut it out though, clearly in no right state of mind to be thinking about anything other than what was taking place in these four walls.

You wanted to sleep, you had thought, eyes fluttering shut when Naoya finally had left you alone on the bed. And when you finally felt the restraints around your hand loosen, you believed sleep was going to be easy. 

However Naoya seemed to have other plans, yanking your frame back onto him as crawled into the space behind you. 

“Did you seriously think we were done?” he whispered in your ear, cock lining up with your entrance. “I don’t think I have fully broken yet.”

TAGLIST: @mammons-wife @integers

#jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #naoya x reader #naoya zenin x reader #naoya zenin #naoya x you #jujutsu kaisen smut #naoya zenin smut #jjk smut #jjk x reader

[gay-dorito-dust]

❛ c’mon, we’d look cute together. ❜ promt with Aegon! I feel like he would be a little shit even to the ones he likes.

Summary: Aegon has been on your ass for a while now, so you barricade yourself within the library for a moment of reprieve.

Aegon Targaryen, second of his name, bane of your existence and a pain in your fucking backside. The twerp was like a thorn lodged in your side, too fickle to be removed by traditional means. For as long as you could remember Aegon had been your shadow, following you wherever you went whether that be the gardens, courtyard, library, kitchen, even to your own fucking chambers, Aegon was there with a smug smirk that you’d love nothing more then to wipe off by the means of your first to his face. His entire existence annoyed you to the point that you intentionally hide from him in whatever room was within the closest vicinity.

Once you hid in the library for an entire day knowing for certain that Aegon wouldn’t ever dare step foot in there; Especially when Aemond was known to occupy the library as though it were his chamber. The younger brother was made more then aware of Aegon’s incessant pursuit towards you by how often he would see you rush into the room; Slamming the door shut behind you whilst looking as though you had just set one of the dragons loose within the castle. “I have never, not once, ever seen my brother so determined about something before.” He said as he quickly finished reading a passage out of his book. “You haven’t slipped anything into his drink by any chance.” You only gave the prince a glare, “ha ha, very funny Aemond, don’t you think I would’ve done that just if it meant getting him off my arse for a fucking second?”

“Considering that this is Aegon we are talking about, I’m certain he’d rather be in your arse then on it.” Aemond put it bluntly, his lips graced with a small smirk when you groaned in annoyance, “all joking aside, I have never seen him this determined in perusing someone. It’s quite frankly horrifying to see him up so early.” Aegon was known to be a heavy sleeper, more so during his ventures out to the streets of silk; So seeing his brother get up anytime other then midday brought a lot into question for Aemond. The answer to all of his inquiries was currently attempting to blockade the door with a chair. “Well tell him to quit it or find another, less invasive method in perusing me before I end up hitting him where his future kids will most definitely feel it.” You replied, stepping back to view your work before turning your attention to Aemond who’s eye was gleaming in amusement.

“So your telling me there’s an slight window of opportunity for you to accept my brothers advances?” He hummed, his chin resting within the palm of hand as he caught onto the look of realisation that flash across your face as you recollected the phrasing of your prior words. “No I didn’t.” You curtly answered. “I’m afraid you did, sweet y/n.” Aemond taunted, thoroughly enjoying what he was now learning, “your putting words in my mouth.” You hissed as you turned to addresses the prince who looked about as smug as a cat in his chair. “Am I? Or are you in denial of the possibility that you do, in fact, like the attention my brother has been giving you recently?” You knew what Aemond was doing but you weren’t going to give him the satisfaction of getting under your skin, edging you to the point of an accidental confession; Mind games have always been his forte.

So you did what you could’ve done in that situation, change the subject and put him in the hot seat. “Why are you so invested in your brothers love life all of a sudden Aemond? Normally you wouldn’t give two shits with whom he fucks but right now your acting as though you were a gossiping lady of the court.” Aemond scoffs, fully aware of what you were doing. He didn’t blame you, forcing to admit favouritism towards his brother’s company was damming to one’s pride indeed. Even he has a hard time finding anything remotely favourable out of his brother’s company, especially ones that didn’t involve chasing him down the streets of silk and flea bottom whenever he were to allude his duties. “Oh please why would you-“ just as Aemond was about to finish his sentence, a voice from the other side of the door belonging to that of Ser Criston Cole.

“Prince Aemond, the Queen Alicent requests your audience.” You knew that Alicent didn’t liked to be kept waiting, so you walked over to the door and dislodged the chair from underneath the handle before suspicions were raised. “You wouldn’t want to keep the Queen waiting.” You told him, you see his eye linger on the stack of books on the table he was occupying and you sighed, “I’ll clear away your books, just get going.” Aemond wordlessly got up and crossed the room to the door, though not before casting you a thankful gaze before leaving the library with Ser Criston hot on his heels. With nothing else to do and no one else to talk with, you began clearing up and putting away books to their proper shelves which took you a substantial amount of time, and before you knew it afternoon had already fallen upon KingsLanding.

“I think I’ll head down to the gardens for a bit, just to stretch my legs and get some fresh air.” You told yourself for no other reason then verbal confirmation of what you were planning on doing as you stepped out of the Library, making sure to shut the door behind yourself before you were greeted with a pair of mischievously beautiful lilac eyes and a head of short platinum locks. “Aegon.” You breathed out, “what do I owe the pleasure of your company on this fine afternoon.” You continued through gritted teeth when the prince only smirked in response as he proceeded to grab a hold of your arm, linking it with his own before leading you both down the hallway. “No need to act so cordial towards me, I merely wanted to spend time with you today but couldn’t seem to find you anywhere. Little did I know you were tucked away in the library with my brother.”

The way Aegon’s voice seemed uncharacteristic towards the end made you look at him properly, just in time to see his lilac eyes darken with insecurity as his jaw subtly clenched whilst his grip on your hand tightened over yours absentmindedly. You almost completely forgot that underneath the facade was a boy born into a loveless family and crippling expectations; You almost felt upset for ignoring him, only to be rudely remembered that this was the same boy that tripped you over into a mud puddle and faked innocence along with the time he stole your clothes while you were bathing. How he had gotten in without you hearing his heavy ass breathing still alludes you and frightens you simultaneously. “Apologise my prince, I didn’t know my absence would affect you as much.” You replied, squeezing his hand.

“You can make it up to me by walking through the garden with me.” Aegon quickly suggested and when you didn’t reply fast enough for his liking, he began to whine and lean his weight into you. “C’mon, we’d look cute together, strolling through the gardens, hand in hand, arm in arm. Don’t you think?” Aegon at this point was on the brink of desperation. He hadn’t been lying when he said that he had been trying to find you, almost turned the red keep upside down in the process throughout the duration of his search for you. All he wished for is that he got to have your company even if it was for a short period of time. Aegon just wanted to let his guard down and the only way he could do that was whenever he was with you. So when you sighed and agreed to accompany him, the prince was practically dragging you do the hall with his long strides as you struggled to keep up.

Despite regretting your easy acceptance towards his offer, you found yourself looking upon Aegon’s face to see that the shadows of doubt and regret have retreated from his features and the worry lines usually seen across his forehead had subsided for far happier ones. If Aemond’s words from earlier were to be believed and that Aegon had been determined in being within your presence and how your body receipted to his…peculiar advances. Then yes, you might’ve favoured Aegon’s undivided attention being on you and solely you. The mere thought of being desired and sought after to the point it drives that person into desperation because of how sorely sought after you were. It made you feel things. It made you feel wanted. “You’re a brat you know.” You said softly as you rested your head against his shoulder, feeling the muscles within his body tense at your words, “however I’d rather you be my brat then anyone else’s. I’d want you to be my problem to deal with for the rest of my life.”

“As long as you be mine in return,” Aegon replied softer then usual, pressing a kiss to your head, “for now and for always.”

#hotd fluff #hotd fic #hotd x you #hotd fanfic #hotd x reader #hotd imagines #hotd imagine #house of the dragon x you #house of the dragon fic #house of the dragon fanfic #house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon imagine #house of the dragon imagines #aegon x you #Aegon x reader #Aegon imagines #Aegon imagine #Aegon fic #Aegon fanfic #aegon ii targaryen x reader #Aegon ii targaryen x you #Aegon ii targaryen imagines #Aegon ii targaryen imagine #Aegon ii targaryen fic #Aegon ii targaryen fanfic #aegon targaryen x you #aegon targaryen imagine #aegon targaryen x reader #Aegon targaryen imagines #Aegon targaryen fanfic

[freedomfireflies]

Hers*

Summary: The fifth and final part to Mine*

Your mafia boss boyfriend, Harry, has made you a deal.

Two for the price of one. He'll share you with Asher. For one night. And one night only.

And all you have to do? Be good and take it.

Word Count: 9.6k (...don't ask)

*Contains Mature and Explicit content, so please only consume what you feel comfortable with!💞*

“Easy, mama. Breathe. That’s it, that’s my girl. Relax for me, okay? Relax.”

Forcing a shaky breath through quivering lips, you do your best to oblige Harry’s request, allowing your muscles to uncoil as you settle before him.

“Good,” he hums, large palm smoothing across your hip. “Don’t want it to hurt, my love. Need you nice and loose for me.”

“I know,” you say, lashes fluttering shut. “I know, m’sorry.”

“Don’t have to be sorry, honey,” he reminds you, although there’s a hint of reprimand. “Just have to be relaxed.”

You nod again and unclench your fists from around the blanket. He’s doing his best to help you along, making sure to keep his touch light and comforting. And it’s something you thoroughly appreciate as he gingerly circles the tip of the plug around your hole.

“Talk to me,” he suddenly demands as he pulls the item away. “Tell me what you’re looking forward to about this weekend.”

He’s trying to distract you, and you smile as you glance toward the pillows at the head of the bed. “I’m excited to be with you,” you tell him honestly. “Both of you, but…especially you. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you share before.”

“And you won’t again,” he snorts under his breath before you feel his puckered lips meet your ass cheek. It’s a quick peck, meant to encourage you, and your grin grows. “Lucky I’m even considering it this time.”

You turn to sneak a glance over your shoulder. “Why are you?”

He doesn’t meet your eye, instead keeping his focus on the task at hand. “Because I can tell it’s something you want. And I want to give you everything you ever want. Everything you deserve.”

Your heart jumps. “You think I deserve Asher?”

You smirk to show you’re teasing, and he chuckles to himself as he gently guides your thighs further apart. 

“I think you deserve the best,” Harry replies cooly. “Maybe that’s Asher, maybe it’s not. That’s why I want to be there. To find out.”

You run your tongue over your bottom lip. “Do you trust him?”

He looks up.

“I trust you,” he says softly. “I trust that if this is something you want…then you’ll enjoy it. And I trust that if at any point it’s not…you’ll tell me.”

“I will,” you agree quickly. “You know I will. But I don’t want you to do this just because of me. Not if it’s not something you actually want.”

“I want what you want,” he repeats, a bit firmer. “This time, that’s Asher. I’ve seen the way you are with him. And I’ve seen the way he is with you. The only thing I expect of him is that he takes care of you. Which he does. And as long as he continues to do so…I’ll continue to let him keep his heart inside of his body.”

You snort and glance back down at the mattress, readjusting your position. “I think you just like knowing how scared he is.”

You don’t have to see Harry to know he’s grinning. “It’s fun to watch him sweat.”

“You’re a horrible friend.”

“I’m not his friend. I’m his boss.”

“Well…you’re a horrible boss, then.”

“Considering all I’ve allowed him to see and do, I’d say I’m pretty generous.”

“Maybe he didn’t want to.”

“He did,” Harry says quickly. Confidently. “Believe me, honey. He wanted to. He told me.”

“He told you and you let him live? I’m shocked,” you tease, feigning a surprised gasp.

However, this earns you a gentle but loud smack to the ass as you chuckle.

“Watch it,” he warns. “Yes, I let him live. Because I knew he wasn’t a threat.”

“No?”

“No.” He squeezes your hip, calling your attention back as you look over your shoulder.

Your stomach flips when you see the somber expression on his face.

“You love me,” he says. Not a question. Not a theory. A statement. “He will never change that.”

“No,” you echo, and your answer overwhelms you. “No, never.”

He reaches around to take hold of your chin and give it a squeeze. “That’s my girl,” he murmurs. “I want to do this with you—with him—because it’ll make you happy. Because you deserve to be taken care of. And I know he’ll do it right.”

With that, he drags the tip of the plug down to the arousal already collecting between your thighs, effortlessly lubricating the small object as the question is put to bed.

You reel, gasping through a slack jaw as you steady yourself on your hands and knees.

“Remember what I said,” he reminds you, patting your hip softly. “Gotta relax for me.”

You nod quickly, silently commanding your body to comply, to unwind, to loosen.

And then…he dips down.

Spit dribbles from his lips, landing between your cheeks as you mewl and wiggle closer to the strange sensation.

He makes a noise—either of approval or disappointment, you aren’t sure—before his finger is diving through the pool of saliva and slipping inside.

He’s already been stretching you for the past few minutes, attempting to make this experience a bit more pleasant.

And you’re more than thankful for that now, lost in the feeling of your muscles being coaxed into submission, the feeling of your walls being pushed apart, the feeling of him.

His digit alone is such a fantastically full feeling, you know a cock will send you on a one-way ride to heaven.

“There she is,” he hums, seemingly proud of the way you’ve begun to unwind. “Feels good, hm?”

“Yes,” you breathe, practically pushing back into him. “Fuck—”

“Been a while, I know,” he remarks before he retracts his hand and brings the plug back. “Proud of you, mama.”

Your cheeks warm from the praise before allowing your body to fall quiet. Limbs going utterly still as you await the feeling of the toy, eyes falling down to the dark duvet beneath you.

There’s not much resistance, and you can’t feel too surprised. In fact, it’s quite the subtle but enjoyable feeling. Made even more pleasurable by the way Harry speaks to you.

“That’s my fucking girl,” he whispers, making sure to keep a steady pace. “Oh, honey. Look so pretty right now. Wish you could see how well your sweet little hole stretches for me.”

You bite back a moan. Clenching certainly won’t help, and you almost wonder if he’s trying to be lewd on purpose, just to test you.

Once it’s seated snugly within your ass, Harry hums again and presses his lips to the base of your spine. “There you go. How’s it feel?”

“Good,” you whisper, allowing for a moment to indulge in the sensation. “Full.”

“Yeah? Good,” he repeats, taking a handful of hip in each hand before pulling you back just to watch your cheeks spread. “Fucking hell, mama. Don’t know if I can wait till this evening.”

You smirk as you settle onto your heels, lacing your fingers through his. “Then don’t. Call him over now.”

“Wish I could,” he sighs as he walks around the bed to face you. “But I need to swing by the warehouse, and I need you somewhere safe.”

“And why again am I not safe here?”

“Told you,” he says, caressing your cheek with his palm before running a thumb down your lip. “This location could be compromised if something goes wrong. S’better to have you in a safe house while we have the meeting. And once it’s all over, we can come home.”

Home. A singular word filled with a lifetime of memories. You love the way he says it. Love the tenacious way he speaks about the shared space you both belong in. The place you yearn to come back to.

You press your mouth against his finger, kissing him gently. 

He smiles.

“Okay,” you agree. “As long as you’re not gone long.”

“Try not to be.”

“Promise?”

He frowns but there’s a hint of playful amusement within the firm expression. “You know how I feel about promises.”

“I know,” you reply, sneaking your hand around his wrist to keep him close. “But I need you to promise me anyway.”

He sighs. “Honey…”

“I need to hear you say it,” you insist softly. “I need to know you’ll come back to me.”

Now he understands, and his eyes fill with a desperate longing. “Always,” he nearly growls, using both palms to take hold of your face and bring you to him. “Fucking always, mama. Always come back to you.”

You smile as your nose brushes against his. “Promise?”

He exhales a deep breath, as if you’ve stolen the air right out of his lungs. “I promise.”

You kiss him. And you don’t let him go for quite some time, thankful to have him in this moment…and all the rest.

“But you have to promise me something, too,” he whispers, pressing his lips to your cheek.

“Yeah?”

He nods before that devious grin finds its way back. “Promise me…you won’t tell Asher about this little surprise until tonight,” he says, reaching down to smack his hand against your ass. “Think he deserves a little treat.”

And you can’t help but laugh as you agree. “I promise,” you vow before the sound of the door opening echoes throughout the apartment.

Asher announces his arrival as Harry helps you to your feet, making sure to keep you steady as you adjust to the newly acquired object.

“Get dressed,” he instructs softly before releasing you to walk toward the door. “He’s gonna take you to the safe house, and then I’ll see you tonight.”

“Okay,” you reply, equally as quiet. “Har?”

He stops just before he’s completely disappeared into the hallway. “Hm?”

“I love you.”

He smiles, and it makes your heart sing.

“I love you, honey,” he calls back. “Now be good for me.”

You grin. “Yes, daddy.”

And he laughs. In that beautiful, symphonic way. It almost makes your chest ache as you watch him slip into the living room to debrief his right-hand man while you’re left to put your shorts back on.

Once you’re ready, you join the boys by the door, catching the tail end of their hushed conversation.

“—until tomorrow,” Harry is murmuring. “Unless we draw him out.”

“We will,” Asher replies, nodding once. “Matthews is a fucking idiot. He thinks he’s got a shot at infiltrating our system, he’s not gonna pass that up.”

“No,” Harry agrees. “Especially not after Sean—"

The muted discussion comes to an abrupt end when Harry’s eye catches you sneaking through the living room.

“Hi, sugar,” he calls, a bit louder than necessary, almost as if alerting Asher of your presence, too.

Asher turns, and when he sees you…he smiles.

“Hi,” you say back, nodding at the second-in-command.

“You ready?” Harry asks.

“Yeah. I wasn’t sure what to bring, but—”

“Asher’s got it,” Harry answers simply, shooting you a reassuring grin. “Don’t need to bring anything but that cute little ass.”

The teasing remark is a double-edged sword, and you and Harry exchange a smirk as your skin warms and Asher’s brow raises.

However, he doesn’t question it. “In that case…are you ready?”

You nod again. “I think. How far is it?”

“Couple hours,” Harry replies. “Just outside the city.”

“Is Paul coming?” 

“No.”

Your brow raises. “Okay…why?”

There’s a beat as Harry reaches into his suit jacket pocket to retrieve a cigarette and a match. “We’re not compromising your location,” he says as he places the filter between his lips and strikes the light. “S’better if fewer people know.”

“So, just you and Asher?”

“Mhm.” He inhales deeply before plucking the object between two fingers and pulling it free. “You’ll be safer that way.”

And despite how methodical he makes the whole affair sound, you know this is something he’s actively fighting himself on. 

He prioritizes you above all else, even when that means sending you two hours away so he can conduct a meeting with someone on the black market. 

But he hates it. You know he hates it. He absolutely cannot stand being away from you, especially in moments like this.

And he doesn’t want you to know just how weak you make him.

Fighting a gentle smirk, you stride toward him and snatch the cigarette from his grasp. 

He huffs as you smash the ashes against the wall, effectively putting out the light before tossing it into the trash can. 

“What have I told you about this?” you remind him, tone playful with just a hint of admonishment. 

He sighs, glancing down at the lost nicotine with a mournful frown. “Well, what else do you expect me to do?”

“I expect you…to kiss me,” you whisper as he drags his eyes back to you.

It doesn’t take much more for him to slip his fingers around the back of your neck and tug you to him, his mouth instantly colliding with yours.

It doesn’t matter that he’d already kissed you a mere ten minutes ago.

Because this kiss—and all of his kisses—are like snowflakes. Unique, and special, and one of a kind. 

It makes your stomach flip, and your head grow fuzzy, and your ears ring.

Because it’s never just a kiss.

It’s an unspoken vow of love and loyalty.

“I love you,” he whispers, soft enough that you imagine only you can hear.

You nod quickly as you press your lips into his bottom one. “I love you,” you repeat. “Don’t be stupid.”

He grins as he releases you. “Never.”

With that, you follow Asher out of the apartment, leaving Harry to finish a few things before heading to the warehouse. 

However, instead of Asher’s familiar car, you’re brought to a stop in front of a rather intimidating looking motorcycle.

“And what…is this?” you ask as he grabs a helmet off the handle.

He chuckles while outstretching it toward you. “What’s it look like, sweetheart?”

“You want to take this?” you nearly stammer, eyeing the dark black death machine. “What was wrong with your car?”

He lifts his shoulder in a casual shrug. “Not nearly as fun, now, is it?”

Your response is a flat expression, and he laughs again.

“There’s a higher chance of somebody recognizing my car,” he explains as he moves to swing his leg over the bike. “But they won’t recognize this.”

It’s an adequate justification you suppose. And you aren’t opposed to riding one. You and Harry used to ride together all the time back when you first met.

But never when you had a plug in.

Swallowing your nerves, you slip the helmet over your head as Asher starts the engine, his observant eyes flicking across the dash.

Straddling onto the back of the seat behind him, you watch while he revs the throttle, and props his foot up.

Then, he glances toward his shoulder. “You ready, sweetheart?”

You swallow, arms slipping around his dark black t-shirt. “Where’s your helmet?”

He smirks. “Only have the one. But I don’t need it. I’ll be fine.”

You can’t help the disapproving frown that forms. “Ash—”

“Don’t worry,” he insists, chuckling as he returns his attention forward. “Just hold on, yeah?”

With that, the bike jolts forward, and you cement yourself to his back as he swings a right and leads you both out of the parking lot.

He’s on the highway in twenty seconds flat, swaying from side to side as he slips between the cars. It’s one effortless, fluid motion that makes your heart drop to your stomach, but more than that…it’s exhilarating.

In fact, you don’t even have time to be anxious when each bump you hit and turn you make stimulates the small object beneath you.

And you’re trying not to let it affect you. Trying so hard to keep your focus on the two-hour ride you have ahead of you.

But then the tires will roll over a small rock, and your eyes will roll back in your head.

Your fingers dig into the fabric on Asher’s chest as you squeeze for dear life. And he glances back from time to time, just to make sure you’re all right.

But you’re not all right. And you won’t be until you take this damn thing out.

“You okay?” he yells once you’ve left the city.

You nod. “Yeah,” you call back, although your boa constrictor-like grip suggests otherwise. “Just peachy.”

You catch his smile before he gets off the exit and begins down a seemingly abandoned back road.

There’s still ninety minutes to go, so you will yourself to relax. To focus on anything else besides the throbbing between your legs. Or the position of your clit against the seat. Or the way your chest is pressed to Asher’s back.

But it seems as though the entire universe is working against you in this moment, and despite your best efforts, you find that you’re losing the game.

And when the bike rounds a particularly sharp corner, it all comes to a hilt.

A rather airy moan slips free as you scratch your nails down his chest, and you catch the way he sneaks a look back at you.

“You okay, sweetheart?” he asks again, seemingly unaware of the nature behind your noise.

However, speaking will only make things worse, so you nod mutely and pull your lip between your teeth.

This answer satiates him for a while longer before it happens again, and your whimpers become harder to hide.

He doesn’t question you this time around, but a quick glance over his profile proves that he’s beginning to understand why these noises are different.

And so familiar.

You’re thankful he doesn’t ask you to explain. That he doesn’t directly call out your subtle grinding or the desperate whines that dance through the wind and find him.

Instead, he carries on with the ride as though he hasn’t noticed, and this alone gives you the strength to keep your impending orgasm at bay.

After all, Harry would be quite disappointed to find out he’d missed such a sight.

And you don’t imagine starting off the evening with Harry’s disapproval will work in your favor.

The next hour feels like the slow crawl of death. The tortuous journey nearly dragging you to the finish line as Asher finally arrives at the gated building.

You just about moan with relief when he punches in the code, pulls into the parking lot, and brings the motorbike to a stop.

And the moment the engine is killed, you have to bite back a whine, thankful for the reprieve from the vibrations against your cunt.

Asher helps you stand to your feet before slipping the helmet off your head and placing it back on the handle.

You notice he’s smiling in that charming, boyish way. A look that you’re more than familiar with, and it instantly calms your remaining nerves as he leads you inside.

He spends the first few minutes surveying the premises. Checking each closet, door, and hallway for any security risks or planted bugs. He then radios Paul and instructs him to confirm to Harry that the location is secure.

Finally, once Asher is satisfied, he joins you in the living room, and returns his gun to his belt.

“How you feelin’?” he asks, perching on the edge of the seat just beside you.

You swallow thickly and squeeze your thighs a bit tighter together. “Hm? Oh, good. Yeah. Good. Better. Now that we’re…on the ground again.”

He exhales a gentle laugh, and you feel your cheeks fill with heat. “Yeah, sorry. Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“No, it’s okay. It was…fun.”

His brow jumps up. “Yeah?”

Shit. You glance back down at your lap and nod once. “Mhm.”

Once again, he finds amusement through your timid behavior and lack of eye contact. But you can’t explain why, and you can’t exactly fight it. So, you surrender to the docile demeanor, keeping your focus on your cuticles as you wait for Harry to join you.

“Hey, Ash?” you venture after a moment, breaking the comfortable quiet.

His head turns to you.

“Are you…nervous? About tonight?” you begin hesitantly, letting yourself steal a glimpse of his quizzical expression. “I mean…is this something you really want to do? Or is Harry manhandling you into it?”

He laughs, and the warm sound echoes around the room. “Believe me, sweetheart. I am more than okay with it.”

You shift in your spot on the sofa, angling your body to fully face him. “Okay, but…are you sure? Just because he’s your boss doesn’t mean you have to do everything he says. He won’t kill you if you say no.”

He grins so big you can see his teeth. “That’s not why I agreed. I agreed because he was right. It’s my job to take care of you.”

You sigh, features playfully unamused. “I think this goes well beyond the specifications of your job description.”

“Maybe. But you’re his girl. And I’d do anything for either of you.”

“Even this?”

“Even this.”

“And it’s not…weird?”

“I don’t think so. Do you?”

You hesitate. “No…I’ve known you forever. I feel safe with you.”

“Good.” He seems genuinely pleased with this. “This isn’t about me, sweetheart. This is about you. About both of you. Harry likes an audience and I’m happy to give him one.”

You suppose this is true. You’ve always known this about your boyfriend and truth be told, you can’t imagine a better audience than Asher.

You spend the next half hour or so exchanging stories about the aforementioned man. The different moods he has, the different coping methods he’s developed, and even a few of his more taboo kinks.

Asher remarks on how different Harry was when he was younger, although he’s not surprised that this is the man he became. And he’s happy that you found each other. That you can be Harry’s light.

And you’re happy that Harry can be your darkness.

Not long after, the security system calls a shrill word of warning from its spot on the wall as Asher leaps to his feet and heads for the door.

He sneaks a hand behind his back, fingers curling on the base of the gun still hidden beneath his belt while cautiously approaching. Then, after a quick look over the monitor, he presses a button and instantly steps back to allow the door to swing open.

And in strides Harry.

He looks about the same as when you left him. He’s still donning his dark, matte suit. His hair is still perfectly displaced, and his skin is still thankfully free of any blood.

A good sign.

But everything else is off. His ordinarily indifferent expression has grown hard. Unforgiving. His jaw seems to be clenched so tight, you’re worried he might chip a tooth. The veins in his neck are corded and pushing against his skin, and even from the sofa, you can see there’s an emptiness in his eye.

Asher begins to frown. “What happened?”

Harry’s head shakes as he looks from his right-hand man to you. “Not now,” he says simply, voice dripping with malicious disdain. “I don’t want to think about it right now.”

Instead, he brushes past Asher and makes a beeline for you. And your heart flutters inside your chest as you look up at the tall man coming to a quick stop before you.  

He reaches out and snatches your chin in his palm, gently but firmly tugging you upright until he can connect his lips with yours.

This kiss is angry. Vindictive. Filled with remorse and malevolent indignation. It captures each desperate gasp for air, and he swallows your timid compliance mercilessly. 

When he feels generous enough to allow you a breath, you’re tucked beneath his arm while he presses his mouth against your temple.

“How was it?” he whispers, and there’s a certain strain to his inquisition that suggests he’s wrestling a larger demon within himself. 

You nod gently and let the smell of his familiar cologne envelope you—calm you. “It was good.”

“Yeah?” He looks to Asher. “No problems?”

“Not…exactly,” Asher replies, and you watch the corner of his mouth dance with the idea of smirking.

Harry’s eyebrow raises. “And what does that mean?”

“Well, it wasn’t exactly a problem,” Asher explains, letting his focus fall to you. “But I think she did have a bit of an interesting ride.”

Harry’s head rolls until he can look down at you. “Oh?”

Your skin warms under the heat of his gaze as you tangle your fingers into his nice shirt. “Couldn’t help it. Felt so good, Har.”

You watch as Harry’s calloused features dissolve into that of smug intrigue. “I bet it did, mama. Does he know why?”

The spotlight swings to Asher, who stands a few feet away, exceedingly curious.

Your lips roll into your mouth as you shake your head.

Harry smiles. “Then why don’t you show him?”

Eager to do just that, you stand back, and lace your fingers around the waistband of your shorts.

Slowly, you turn around, and begin shimmying the denim material down your thighs. Then, you continue to guide the pants down to your ankles, body bending until they reach the floor.

And the moment you’re bent over, you hear Asher curse.

He’s got a direct line of sight to the purple object Harry placed neatly between your ass. And now he understands why the ride on his motorcycle was so…stimulating for you. Why it had you whimpering in his ear as he rocked the bike from side to side while racing through the mountains.

And after you’ve stood back up and turned around, you can see exactly what this revelation does to him.

Harry chuckles underneath his breath as he slips his palm across your bare hip, guiding you back to him. “S’pretty, isn’t it?”

Asher swallows visibly before forcing a curt nod. “Mhm. Very.”

“All nice and stretched for you,” Harry murmurs before grinning down at your hopeful expression. “Aren’t you, honey? You ready to take him?”

You nearly mewl as you nod your enthusiastic agreement, once more grasping onto his shirt as if to plead with him.

“I know,” he coos, cupping your cheek in his palm. “Bet it’s been aching all day, hm? Know you’re so excited.”

And you are. You’ve never felt more infatuated with an idea, and the longer they take to ruin you, the worse the need gets.

“My sweet girl,” he whispers, guiding his thumb toward your lips before slipping it inside your mouth.

You suck, instantly calmed as you sweep your tongue around him, and allow yourself to settle.

“Gotta go over some rules first, yeah?” he says, a bit louder now so you both can hear.

Asher steps closer.

“One…this is about you, mama,” Harry begins, echoing Asher’s earlier sentiments. “We’re not here to hurt you, or punish you, or make you feel unsafe. Is that understood?”

You nod.

He pops his finger free just to take hold of your jaw. “Two…you use your words. Always. You tell us that you’re okay or if you need to stop. If you don’t, I end it.”

You nod again, but he frowns.

“Okay,” you agree verbally, and he hums. “I will.”

Pleased, he carries on. “Three…” He turns to Asher now. “You don’t come inside her. Not her ass. Not her throat. Nothing. You pull out, you get yourself off, and that’s it.”

For some reason, you almost feel embarrassed by the unrelenting and rather strict condition that Harry proposes.

But Asher merely replies, “Understood.”

“And you wear a condom,” Harry adds. “I won’t risk her health because of this. I don’t care if you’re clean, I don’t care if you’re gentle. The only one that gets to feel her is me.”

“Understood.”

Harry’s attention returns to you. “If at any point you want to stop, or you want him gone, or you feel unsure…you fucking tell me. I don’t care if we haven’t come. I don’t care if you think you need to make us happy, make us finish. You tell me. And we’ll talk about it.”

Another resolute rule. “I know, Har. I will. I promise.”

But he’s not finished. “And if you slip into your subspace, then I make the call. If I think you need to be through, then we’re through. And I don’t want any whining or begging. We stop, and that’s that.”

The anticipation just about kills you. Already, your eagerness to be put in these situations lures you into a submissive state of mind. Until everything whittles down to what he’s saying. What he’s offering.

“Okay,” you breathe, bouncing on the tips of your toes. “Okay, I swear.”

He studies you for a moment. Perhaps looking for any deception or perhaps he’s deciding if you’re truly hearing him.

But you know he’s just as keen as you are to begin, so he nods his approval before tapping his finger over your mouth once more.

“Good girl,” he hums. “Now…take my rings off for me.”

Your breath hitches as you step closer, instantly taking hold of his wrist to hold his hand where you need it.

And both men watch as you lick your tongue up his palm and right toward his middle digit.

Once you’ve reached the tip, you wrap your lips around him and move down, teeth gently grazing his skin as you go.

You vaguely catch his mumbled curse as you reach the delicate piece of jewelry. But you pay it no mind, instead keeping your focus on swirling your tongue around the ring before latching onto it and sucking it back up.

Once it’s off, he holds out his other hand, and you let it drop.

He smirks. “Good girl. Now the others.”

You move to the next one, repeating the pattern of pulling and guiding, all while making sure to put on a show.

You never once deviate your eyes from his, allowing him to see just how much you enjoy completing such a menial, borderline degrading task.

And you let him know just how much you love when he’s in charge.

It’s rare he offers to let you take the reins. But when he does, it’s still quite fun. After all, he thinks it’s cute when you’re his dominant and you think it’s cute that he pretends you actually are.

Once his fingers are ring free, he slips his palm around the back of your neck and gives it a squeeze. “Bedroom. Now.”

Slightly disappointed to steal yourself from him, you nod and begin for the room just off the hallway.

The boys follow a few feet behind, and you can hear their soft murmurings, but you don’t inquire to know the details. You imagine you’ll find out soon enough.

Once you’ve all gathered around the mattress, Harry takes your hand, brings your knuckles to his lips, and winks.

Your skin warms from the rather innocent display of affection before he’s leading you to the bed. You’re placed between his legs while he settles back against the headboard, and the moment you’re comfortable, his large hands curl around your thighs and drag them apart.

Then, Asher makes himself known, crawling into the newly made space until he can nestle down onto his stomach.

He takes hold of your hips, and with a little help from Harry, manages to lift you up so he can slip a pillow beneath your ass.

You swallow.

“It’s Asher’s turn to taste you,” Harry tells you simply, dipping down until his mouth can dance across your ear. “And I’m gonna be nice…and let him.”

You push yourself into Harry’s chest, head dropping onto his shoulder as you scratch your nails down his arms. You can’t find a response. Don’t really need one. You just need them.

Asher seems encouraged by your willing silence, smiling to himself as he scoots closer and smooths his touch up your legs.

“You ready, sweetheart?” His voice is calm. Reassuring. Familiar and all around safe. 

You nod before Harry pinches your thigh and reminds you of his rule. “Yes,” you say aloud. “Yes, I’m ready.”

You feel Harry smirk against your cheek.

With that, Asher dives forward. You weren’t sure how he would feel. You know how his fingers feel. Know his touch, and his voice, and the way he looks at you.

But this…this is new. Wonderful, and soft, and just a bit dangerous.

It’s even a bit messy. How could it not be with the way you’ve been drenched since the moment Harry put the plug in. Truth be told, you’re not sure the difference between your arousal and Asher’s contribution. 

Either way, his large tongue licks up your cunt like this is the first drink of water he’s had in years. Like you’re the only remedy to his deprivation. As if he knows this is the first and only time Harry will ever allow him to taste you.

 He indulges in you. Nips at you with the fervent desire to feast. To lick through you, to devour you, to savor everything you have to offer.

He’s relentless and yet patient. He takes his time because he knows you have more to give. Knows that you’re enjoying this as much as he is.

“Look at you, mama,” Harry whispers, his strong fingers pressing marks into your tender skin as he keeps you spread. “Fucking love this, don’t you?”

And you do, so you nod zealously, whimpering beneath a pained breath as you squirm between Harry’s legs.

“How does he feel, hm?” he asks next, running his nose along your temple. “S’he making you feel good, honey?”

Your answer comes in the form of a salacious moan, your jaw going slack as you suck in a sharp breath.

“Is that a yes?” Harry pushes. “’Cause if he’s not…I’ll put a fucking bullet through his head.”

And you can feel Asher curse against your pussy before he’s sucking your clit into his mouth, cheeks hollowing as you whine. 

The threat lingers for just a moment, met only with more needy whimpers, and lewd licks to your cunt. 

You don’t imagine Harry would ever follow through on such an ultimatum, but the look in Asher’s eye almost convinces you otherwise.

Harry’s decisions are rarely ever made through calm, sound logic. More often than not, his choices are the result of a short temper and lack of patience.

And you. Despite what he might tell you, you are the sole reason for his insanity. He will stop at nothing to keep you with him. Keep this little life you two have built.

And if Asher happened to compromise that…

You shiver from the very thought, and from the way your orgasm is beginning to unravel. 

“Are you close, sweet girl?” Harry murmurs, pulling you a bit wider. “Hm? Does it ache, baby? Need to let go? Need to come?”

You’re trying to nod, trying to breathe, trying to do anything but cry desperately as you writhe between his arms.

He only hums. “No.”

With that, Asher pops his mouth from your clit and straightens up, leaving your swollen, sensitive, and quite red cunt where he found it.

You wilt. Become absolutely unhinged as the loss of pleasure leaves you desolate and depraved. 

“Harry,” you nearly gasp, whining as you tug on his wrists.

“No,” he repeats calmly. “No, not gonna waste your first on him. Want your first around us, mama. Gonna be around our cocks, yeah?”

Truthfully, you want nothing else, and you just about purr as you murmur your agreement, and scoot back into his body.

He chuckles when he feels the way you’re trying to pull your legs from beneath his hands, clearly desperate for some sort of friction. And you hope he’ll have pity on you. At least let you find a bit of relief before you begin. 

However, he only smacks his large hand down your naked thigh in warning before you feel his mouth press to your cheek.

“No,” he repeats for a third time. “Enough. Told you to behave, didn’t I?”

You fight to catch your breath. “…yes.”

“So behave.”

God, you could just about come from his tone of voice alone. The angry and virile hiss that he only uses when he’s truly lost on you. In the need to own you, claim you, ruin you completely.

He smacks your leg again, albeit gentler this time around. “Up.”

A bit confused, you wearily push yourself onto your knees until you can straighten up and steal a glimpse of the man behind you.

He smirks when sees the confused expression on your face before jutting his chin toward his pants. “Take ‘em off.”

And you’re more than happy to oblige. So, while Asher stands from the bed and begins to strip himself of his own clothing, you get to work on Harry.

Shaky, excitable fingers move for the dark waistband around his hips. They pinch the zipper and drag it down before tugging on the material until it can slip down his legs.

You wiggle backward as you guide the pants off before tossing them aside to focus on his briefs.

And you just about drool when you get to see him. His strong, tan thighs. The muscles that quiver and dip as he scoots up. The way you can see the bulge straining against the fabric of his underwear as you greedily move closer.

The moment you make contact with the band, however, Harry snatches hold of your wrists to slow you down.

“Easy, mama,” he instructs softly, thumbs stroking across the joints of your hand. “You’re okay. Not nervous, are you?”

Having mistaken your trembling touch for unease, he attempts to pull you to him.

But you merely smile and shake your head. “No, I promise. I’m excited.”

“Are you sure?” His expression is quizzical. Scrutinizing. Looking to see if he needs to make a call you can’t make for yourself.

But you grin and surge forward, pressing your lips to his as he sighs. “Promise,” you repeat, using this distraction as an opportunity to rip his briefs down.

He hisses when his cocks comes free, forehead finding yours before he looks down to see it.

In fact, you both look, and you feel utterly mesmerized by the way it calls to you. The way it’s hard and ready to be touched.

All for you.

You’d take him into your mouth right now if that’s what he wanted but you know he wants to save each ounce of his pleasure for you.

So, you simply toss the underwear aside, and anxiously stare at his shirt.

This is what you’d like to rid him of next, but without his explicit instruction, you’re forced to wait. To stare at the black fabric until he realizes what it is you want.

And when he does, he smiles.

“All right,” he concedes, sitting up so you can peel it off. “Go ahead.”

You waste no more time, slipping your hands around the hem before pulling it up and over his head.

Now…you see him. All of him. Naked, and sculpted, and so goddamn beautiful. Your own work of art, right here in front of you, ready for the taking.

And you can’t wait to take him.

Now, the attention returns to you. You’re still in the oversized t-shirt you’d slipped on earlier, and while it’s quite comfortable, you know for Harry, this just won’t do.

So, he smooths his palms along your thighs, over your hips, and across your stomach before guiding the shirt up. 

You shiver with every brush of his skin against yours, and nearly whine when you feel his thumbs sweep just below the swell of your breasts.

But he doesn’t linger. Because of course he doesn’t. Instead, he plucks the material from your body, and tosses it onto the pile of clothes already gathering on the floor.

The bed dips, reminding you of your guest, and just before you can turn to see him, Harry grasps onto your jaw.

He keeps your focus on him, an emphatic frown sitting comfortably on his mouth. “Promise me.”

You hesitate, momentarily unsure what he means.

Then…you do. 

You squeeze his arm between both hands and smile gently. “I promise.”

And you’ve never seen him so happy.

A second body appears behind your own, a subtle warmth radiating from the soft skin as it ghosts across your back.

You quickly relax, already feeling safer from the way you’re sandwiched between the two men.

And Harry is pleased with this, letting his eyes flick to the second-in-command just over your shoulder. 

“Take it out,” he instructs before his hands move to your hips. “Gonna need to breathe, mama.”

 You nod as Harry pulls you over his lap, settling one knee on either side of his hips until you’re in the position to straddle him.

And Asher shuffles forward as well, kneeling between Harry’s bent legs while Harry scoots a bit further down until more of his back is on the mattress.

Then, you feel a set of fingers dance across your ass and toward the toy so snugly placed within. 

Your lashes flutter as Asher uses his other hand to sweep some of your hair over your right shoulder, allowing him a better view of your back.

“There you go,” he whispers encouragingly as he gets a grip on the plug. “Ready, sweetheart?”

You pull in a quick breath. “Yes.”

Harry smiles.

Without another thought, Asher begins to slide the object out of your tighter hole, agonizingly slow as Harry brings you toward his cock and pushes the head against you.

The dual sensation makes you stumble over a frantic gasp as you place your hands on Harry’s chest to brace yourself.

But this is only the beginning as Harry nudges himself through your soaked folds and toward where you drip for him.

Then…he thrusts up.

The moment his cock slips in, Asher completely removes the plug, leaving you empty and yet somehow full.

It’s confusing, and wonderful, and overwhelming. And you can’t seem to focus on any one thing as you hear the toy being tossed onto the mattress before Asher is bringing himself closer.

“Okay, honey, you all right?” Harry grits between clenched teeth, clearly fighting the urge to ram himself into you.

Or perhaps he’s merely fighting the sight of Asher pressing his chest to your shoulder blades.

Either way, you nod. “Yes, m’okay. Ready.”

“That’s our girl,” Harry breathes, and you hear Asher hum behind you. “Gonna have to relax for me, mama. If you keep squeezing me like that, I’m not gonna make it.”

You do your best to unclench. To mellow out, slacken the strain on your muscles. And it works, allowing Harry to push in a bit further as your chest just about caves in.

It’s enthralling, but it always is with him. And despite how well your body knows his cock, it continues to stretch for him, beckoning him in as he groans and digs his fingers into your thighs.

“There you go,” he murmurs, the muscles near the edge of his jaw twitching as he surges forward. “S’a good fucking girl. Taking me so well, sugar.”

You mewl as you wiggle over him, needing him to fill you all the way before you’ll feel fully satisfied.

And Asher attempts to help ease your neediness, familiar hands smoothing up your arms and toward your shoulders.

Then, he presses his lips to the side of your throat, and you just about collapse.

However, the moment your eyes roll back, Harry makes one final thrust, completely disappearing inside of you.

He curses as you whimper, a rather pathetic noise scraping from your throat as your head drops forward until your chin meets your chest.

“Fucking hell, mama,” he grunts, nails scratching patterns into your feverish skin. “Feel so good for me, sweet girl. You like sittin’ on my cock? Hm? Like getting to feel me in your tummy?”

But you can’t speak. Can’t. Your entire mouth has gone numb as Harry slowly begins to lift you back up just so he can thrust into you again.

“What a tight little pussy,” he seethes, the sound of him slipping through your arousal echoing throughout the air. “He’s gonna fucking love it, isn’t he? Gonna fucking love to feel you the way I do. Gonna make his fucking day.”

And almost as if to prove Harry’s point, you feel the head of Asher’s cock brush against your lower back until a sharp chill runs down your spine.

A thin layer of sweat has begun to coat your entire body as you impatiently wait for the second-in-command to join in. You know he won’t until Harry deems you ready, but you wish he’d just do it anyway.

It might be fun to see Harry mad.

Already, you feel that familiar tinge of pleasure making a home between your legs. It’s far too easy with the way you were edged earlier but now it just about ruins you.

“Okay,” Harry murmurs, his own chest rising and falling with quick breaths as he sheaths himself inside your cunt. “Okay, Ash, go. Go.”

And before you can even thirstily dwell on the implication of this permission, you feel another hand on your hip as the tip of Asher’s cock sweeps down your ass.

“Easy,” comes the sultry command of the man behind you. “I’ve got you, sweetheart, yeah? Just need you to breathe for me.”

“Okay,” you pant, head rolling back until it can settle into his shoulder.

He smiles against your cheek. “Doing so good. M’gonna go slow, okay?”

“Okay,” you repeat, eyes screwing shut from the lack of stimulation. 

You hear him pump himself a time or two, the sound of the lube he must have applied when you were focused on Harry making you whine. 

Then, you feel him pull your cheeks apart, and gingerly trail the tip of his cock between.

“Breathe,” Harry reminds you, straining to speak through his clenched jaw. “Make daddy happy, honey. Come on.”

So, you do. You suck in a greedy gasp for air, hold it in your lungs, and then release it back into the room. 

Pleased, Harry brings one hand to your chest, tweaking your nipple between his fingers, and right as he does, you feel Asher slip in.

Your mouth drops open, a frantic moan catching in your throat as you roll forward, nearly collapsing onto Harry’s chest.

But he catches you. They both do, quick to encourage you back upright so Asher can continue, and you feel your mind grow hazy.

“There she is,” Harry whispers, kneading your tit in his palm. “Shit, mama. M’so fucking proud of you. Look so pretty right now, taking him. Does it feel good? You feel okay?”

And you appreciate his concern more than anything in the world, your heart fluttering in your chest as you nod.

“Yes,” you whisper, an airy reply that’s almost lost beneath the sound of Asher’s forced exhale. “I’m okay. Promise.”

Harry releases your chest to press his hand to your cheek, thumb stroking just below your eye. “My precious girl. Knew you’d behave for us. Love getting to see you like this. All fucked out and happy. Are you happy, sugar?”

You are. So utterly and unconditionally happy right now that you feel tears spring to your lash line as you turn to press your mouth into Harry’s palm. 

He sighs at the feel of your kiss against his skin, but the tender moment between you is cut short when Asher finally pushes in to the hilt, forcing a surprised whimper.

The overwhelming feel of both men—both cocks—stretching you from the inside out is almost more than you can handle. Because it’s everything. Everywhere. All at once. You know them both in the most intimate of ways, and a mangled cry rips from your tongue as they offer you a moment to adjust.

“You okay, sweetheart?” Asher asks, nudging his nose beneath your jaw. You can hear how hard he’s trying not to groan—can feel the restraint he’s using to keep himself still.

It takes you a minute to find a response, nearly winded from the all-consuming rush of pleasure.

Then, Harry taps your cheek firmly, and moves his hand to your throat. “Speak, mama. You know the rule.”

“I’m…yes,” you huff, attempting to roll your hips. “Yes, please…please, Har. Need…need—”

You watch his eyes flick to Asher before he swallows thickly and nods once. “Okay. All right, we’ve got you.”

And so begins the soft but purposeful thrusts. 

They work in tandem, easing out of you slowly just to push back in, basking in the sound of your wetness dripping down their cocks, and the way your body tenses.

They speak in hushed but lustful tones. Their hands never leave you, their focus never leaves you. 

Asher commits to kissing along the slope of your shoulder while Harry obligates his attention to running his fingers down your skin. 

 He scratches, and pulls, and squeezes every inch of your body. And he watches you. Watches you with the kind of adoration that makes the coil nearly snap into a million irremediable pieces.

Suddenly, Harry reaches around your hip to grasp onto Asher’s wrist, and you watch with wide eyes as he brings the right-hand man’s palm to your stomach.

Then…he thrusts up.

“Feel that?” he just about growls, looking between you. “That’s how fucking deep I am. That’s how well she fucking takes me.”

The pressure of their touch against the bulge in your belly has the whines falling miserably from your mouth. A sound that mixes almost wickedly with Asher’s own animalistic grunts as Harry hisses between clenched teeth.

This is what seems to set them off. Their rhythm switches from slow and soft to hard and fast. Needing to feel the way your warmth completely and wholly clenches down.

“So fucking tight, sweetheart,” Asher grumbles, his chest knocking into your back with each snap of his hips. “You feel full? Feel good?”

“Yes,” you cry, nails scratching down Harry’s chest as you move in time with their pattern. “Please…don’t…don’t stop—”

“Never, baby,” Harry bites, driving in so deep, it almost hurts. “Fucking never stop. Give you everything—”

“Shit—”

“Can feel you, baby. Feel your little pussy squeezin’ me. You gonna come? Gonna come for us?”

“Yes…yes, yes—”

“Yeah? Go ahead, mama. Fucking come. Let him feel how fucking good you are to me. Let him know what it’s like to have you coming around his cock—”

You scream something akin to his name when it hits you, eyes rolling so far back, you see stars. 

You lose time. Lose everything, nearly lose consciousness. And they don’t stop. They fuck you through every second, and the sounds they make almost send you into a second.

You can’t differentiate between the two, but your ears fill with the melodic sound of whimpers and grunts of appreciation as they fuck themselves deeper. As they hit each spot so perfectly that it almost kills you. 

But Harry’s not through. He presses his fingers into your clit and chases after another orgasm. Pinching and pressing and rubbing until you’re attempting to squirm away from him, begging him to stop, to let you breathe.

Your cheeks are stained with ecstatic tears as you come undone for a second time, quicker but still blissfully euphoric. 

“Please, please, please,” you hear yourself whine, slumping forward as Asher wraps an arm around your middle to keep you upright. “Please…Har…please. Can’t…can’t…”

“Shh, you’re all right,” comes the distant but gentle sound of Harry’s voice, vaguely keeping you present as your mind attempts to float away. “So fucking proud of you, mama. M’not through with you yet.”

“Please…”

“Easy, honey. It’s okay. Just gonna play with you a little longer. You’ll let Daddy play you with your little clit, yeah?”

You nod mutely, humming to yourself as he pinches the sensitive nerves between the pads of his fingers. “Har…”

“I know,” he coos as Asher releases a deep breath in your ear. “Hurts, doesn’t it? All swollen, aren’t you?”

Again, you can do nothing but move your head up and down lazily as you lean back into Asher’s chest. 

“Gonna give me one more, baby,” Harry instructs, thrusts faltering the closer he nears his own release. “Just one fucking more, and Daddy will be so proud. Both be so proud of you.”

And that alone is enough to encourage your compliance, forcing the third to hit you fast like a runaway train before you can even see it coming.

You make it about halfway through the glaringly wonderful rush of endorphins when Harry is suddenly straightening up, placing a hand on Asher’s shoulder, and shoving him back.

Asher’s cock slips from your hole as he’s pushed away from you, leaving you to gasp. 

“No,” Harry seethes, shooting a malevolent and unyielding look toward his second-in-command. “You’re done. You fucking finish over there.”

You aren’t afforded the chance to understand just what’s occurred before Harry is settling back onto the bed and thrusting his hips upward.

His cock completely disappears inside your pussy, forcing a debauched sound to bleed from your mouth as he twitches and finally releases himself into you.

And it’s exactly like you remember. Warm, and good, and exciting. The look on his face as he fills you. The way his tan skin glistens with a sheen of sweat and the beautiful sounds that slip between his lips. 

You’d stay here a lifetime if you could.

Which seems to be his intention because even after he’s finished, he refuses to let you move. Instead wrapping his arms around you and tugging you into his chest, his chin meeting the top of your head. 

He keeps his cock warm inside you for quite some time. All throughout the sound of Asher pumping himself off until he comes over his hand and stomach.

Minutes pass until the room falls silent. Until you’ve all caught your breath and found your way back to the present.

Eventually, Harry shifts, and you can hear him murmur something to the man behind you. 

You don’t catch it through your hazy state of mind, but you feel comforted in hearing the familiar cadence of their voices.

You’re scooped up into a pair of arms and walked into another room. You blink the fog from your eyes as Asher flips on the shower and Harry places you back onto your feet.

You’re kept steady as you’re guided beneath the warm, gentle stream of water and you instantly nuzzle your face in Harry’s chest as he chuckles.

The two men dedicate their time to running some soap down your body, between your legs, along your back, and across your chest.

Harry is gentle when he massages the shampoo into your hair, despite the way you pout as you’re pulled from his body.

But the moment he’s finished, you bury yourself back into his arms, smiling to yourself when you feel his chest vibrate from laughter.

Asher and Harry continue their quiet conversation as they clean themselves. Still, you can’t quite decipher the distinct words or topic of conversation, but do manage to make out one exchange in particular:

“Are you sure?” Asher asks.

“Always,” Harry whispers. “We will always be hers.”

Once thoroughly bathed, they help you step out, and lead you back to the bedroom. Harry is there to put you in clean underwear and one of his shirts while Asher gathers his things and heads back to the living room to keep watch for the night.

“Sleepy girl,” Harry hums as he lays you onto the mattress before slipping in behind you. “M’so fucking proud of you, honey. Thank you for letting us make you feel good.”

And you giggle to yourself, confused as to why Harry would need to thank you for something like that. “Always.”

He chuckles as well.

Sometime in the night, long after you’ve fallen asleep, you feel a particular and familiar chill travel up your cunt and settle in your stomach. 

After shaking the sleep from your mind, you push up onto your elbows and glance down.

You see Harry’s tattooed arm peeking out from between the blankets, rolling and flexing in time with the blissfully sweet ministrations between your thighs. 

Then, you see Harry.

“Shh,” he whispers, leaning closer to press his lips to your jaw. “M’sorry, mama. But I need one more. Need your last one to belong to me.”

You smile as you nuzzle into him, nodding quickly in support. “Please, Har…”

“I know,” he replies, trailing his tongue down your neck. “Gonna make it better.”

With that, he takes his hand from your cunt only to wrap his fingers around the fabric of your underwear…and rip.

It snaps from your body as you gasp and instantly wiggly against the mattress, still sensitive from everything else before.

Then…he tosses it toward the shadows in the corner of the room.

Your eyes follow the lace as it’s flung through the air, choking on a whimper when you see a hand quickly outstretch to capture it.

Asher.

He’s sitting comfortably in a lounge chair, smirking at you both as you attempt to work out what you’re seeing. The soft light from the moon outside the window cascades across the side of his face. Just enough for you to make out his intrigued expression.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he calls, and the teasing but always caring sound of his voice makes you sigh contently.

“Hold these for me, yeah?” Harry instructs his partner, who nods and tucks the underwear into his fist.

Then, Harry’s attention returns to you.

“Think you can give me another?” he murmurs, grinning down at you with so much love, it makes your chest ache.

You shiver as the tips of his fingers return to your clit.

“Always.”

God, why do I love them??? Technically this is the end but I will be doing blurbs because I am needy and cannot let them go!!!

Thank you to everyone that's read and been so kind!!! I appreciate you so much!! As does Asher, who would not have had such an important role if it weren't for all of his fans!! 💞💞

Next Part:

~ Remedy* (A Mine Extra)

Previous Parts:

~ Mine* (Pt. 1)

~ Ours* (Pt. 2)

~ Yours* (Pt. 3)

~ Theirs* (Pt. 4)

~ Full Mine Masterlist

~ Other Harry Blurbs

~ Full Masterlist

Tag List:

@vamprry @acesofspadess @stylesfever @narry-heart @virqinvirgo @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @keepdrivingkisses

#harry #harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fan #harry edward styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles concept #harry styles smut #smut #harry styles fanfic #fan #fanfic #mafiarry #mafia!harry #harry styles mafia #harry and asher

[the-cat-and-the-birdie]

"Miguel isn't Spider-Man"

[A short essay where I explain why I think this theory doesn't make sense - and why believing it CONTRADICTS ourselves]

The idea that Miguel isn't Spider-man is erroreous in my eyes for one reason: it's hypocritical.

Miguel's biggest error and problem is that he doubts Miles is Spider-Man.

Miguel puts strict limitations on what Spider-Man is and isn't, and because Miles falls out of the definition, he treats him differently. That's a problem.

By questioning if Miguel is Spider-Man, you're doing the exact same thing.

By saying 'Miguel isn't Spider-Man because x,y,z' (he wasn't bitten, he has different powers, he needs shots, etc, etc) YOU are putting strict limitations on what Spider-Man is - and treating him differently for it.

That's why Miguel was chosen as the Society Leader.

In SM2099 Miguel is a geneticist - there's really nothing in his comic books that suggest he could time travel of all things.

The writers chose Miguel as the leader because fundamentally, his story makes him different from all other Spider-people.

That difference invites you to question Miguel's authenticity, effectively tricking you into making the exact same mistake he is.

Miguel is an outsider looking into Miles story, questioning his legitimacy, and trying to determine his personality and destiny based on that.

By questioning Miguel, you BECOME Miguel. You become the outsider looking into Miguel's story, questioning his legitimacy, trying to determine his personality and destiny based on your limited idea of what a Spider-Man is.

The entire point is : ANYONE can be Spider-Man regardless of their story, the way it came about, or the powers they have.

Many people question that if Miguel wasn't bitten never consider the question:

Was MARGO bitten?

Margo, like Miguel, uses technology to acquire most of her powers. Her powers are fundamentally different than most Spider-people. She can teleport and directly interact with technology in a way others can't. We have no idea whether she was bitten or not, but from the looks of it, the answer might be 'no'.

But no one ever questions her legitimacy. Only Miguel's.

Because questioning Miguel confirms their bias against him.

The same way Miguel questioning Miles confirms his bias against him.

Miguel thinks Miles is the universal anamoly, so he begins to pick apart why he's not really Spider-Man. When you theorize that MIGUEL is in fact the anamoly, you begin to pick apart why he's not really Spider-Man - effectively putting you in Miguel's position, turning you into the same thing you were judging him for to begin with.

The whole point of ATSV is that anyone can put on the mask.

PLUS with the inclusion of the trans!Gwen hints throughout the movies - questioning Miguel because he takes shots in order to confirm his identity as Spider-Man becomes even more questionable.

Just because he needs an outside force like shots to confirm his identity, doesn't make him any less of that identity. People who are 'biologically/naturally' Spider-people aren't 'more' of a Spider-person than Miguel. The same way cis guys aren't more 'manly' than trans men who take shots.

But Miguel's story being an allegory for transness is another conversation for another day.

The point of the movies isn't 'Miles is Spider-Man'. The point is 'Anyone can be Spider-Man. No one can decide your story or identity for you.'

By questioning Miguel's identity as Spider-Man you're ignoring the message Miles keeps trying to hammer home.

When you question Miguel, you become Miguel.

In short: Miguel is Spider-Man, Miles is Spider-Man. They're all Spider-Man. There is no one definition of Spider-Man.

MIGUEL IS SPIDER-MAN AHHHHH

I rest my case.

(actual photo of me defending Miguel in court. I am his lawyer.)

This isn't me trying to shit on people who believe this theory, but it's just my personal two cents of why I think it doesn't add up in the general scheme and message of the movies. 💖

ANYWAY here's Miguel

BYE.

#spiderman #atsv #spider man #marvel #across the spiderverse #miguel o'hara #miguel ohara #meta analysis #atsv meta