#and like everything is a waste so I do nothing

[candy69gurl]

INSUBORDINATION

PAIRING Toji Fushiguro x f!reader

SYNOPSIS The reader, a young woman of wealth, is married to Toji and consistently treats him as her servant, much to his dismay. Fed up with her behavior, Toji resolves to teach her a lesson.

WARNING non/con, brat taming, spitting, face fucking, hair pulling, spanking, face slapping, fingering, nipple play, missonary, bondage (hands tied only), cock riding, squirting, doggy style, multiple orgasms, degradation, use of vulgar words (dog, bitch, slut, whore, cum slut), humiliation, raw sex (cumming inside mouth, creampie, face cumming), clit slapping & rubbing, man handling

Marrying this seemingly charming and powerful Toji Fushiguro, you believed it imparted a greater benefit upon him than it did upon yourself. His overwhelming infatuation for you was not reciprocated, and instead, you treated him more as a pet than a partner. As a young, rich woman with an air of superiority, you demanded his obedience and submission, constantly reminding him of his place. You were unaware of the brewing storm inside him, waiting to unleash its fury upon you. Little did you know, the love and adoration he had for you were a ticking time bomb about to go off. The way he was treated drove him insane, pushing him to the brink of insanity, and he couldn't take it anymore.

"Hmm, so.. Toji I would like to talk to you, my dear", your eyes never leaving your nails.

Toji glares at you, his eyes smouldering with rage and lust stored inside him. Despite his inner turmoil, he forces a smile and responds, "My lady, I am here." His voice drips with false sincerity, reflecting the pain within him. It's clear that every moment spent serving you gnaws at his soul, fueling his desire to teach you a lesson you will never forget. Yet, he can't let you sense his true intentions - not yet.

He waits patiently, his muscles tensing beneath his clothes, as he anticipates your command. His heart pounds wildly against his chest, and his mind racing with thoughts of revenge and domination. He knows that he's about to snap anytime.

"I need you to stop wasting my money on gambling", your gaze finally shifts from your nails to Toji, who's standing before you with his head bowed.

A chill runs down Toji's spine as he hears your words. Your demand has cut him deeper than any blade could, igniting a firestorm of emotions within him.

How can he possibly stop himself from doing that? It's his sole means of earning money for himself. And it's not like he constantly relies on your finances for that. But the way you phrased your money, it really struck a nerve and left him feeling utterly humiliated. He understood that you were implying he should beg you for money, but that's something he would never do.

He tries to maintain his composure, swallowing the bitter taste that filled his mouth. With a stiff nod, he replies, "As you wish, my lady. I shall cease all gambling activities and dedicate myself entirely to your needs. But I would like you to stop ordering me around"

"Excuse me? who do you think you are?", one of your eyebrows raised, utterly confused by his sudden back-talk.

Toji's eyes flash with defiance, and his voice take on a dangerous edge, "I am your husband, a man scorned and abandoned. I have given you everything I have, my love, my heart, my trust. Yet, I receive nothing in return. I am sick of being treated like a mere toy. My passion for you burns like a thousand suns, and it is time you recognized my worth!" His face contorts with rage and hurt, his entire body trembling with suppressed power. "Do not mistake my patience for weakness, for I am far from it. One day, you will learn the consequences of disregarding those who truly care for you."

Your countenance remain devoid of emotion as he uttered those words. Instead, you advance towards him, drawing nearer... and nearer... until you stand face-to-face. Despite his height advantage, you are aware of the superiority you hold.

In an instant, your hand delivers a sharp slap to his face, causing his head to jerk to the right. "How dare you talk to me like that?"

Your slap lands across Toji's cheek with a loud smack, jolting him back to reality. His eyes widen, shock etching lines onto his face. For a brief moment, he stand frozen, the sting of your hand burning a trail across his pale skin. Then, without warning, his expression twists into one of pure fury. In a single, fluid motion, he grabs your wrist and pins you on the ground.

"GET OFF ME YOU SICKO", you scream.

Toji snarls, his eyes blazing with a feral intensity. "No, little miss high-and-mighty, I decide when this ends. You've played your games, and now it's time to pay the price," he growls, his grip on your wrist tightening. He leans closer, his hot breath washing over your face as he whispers, "You thought I was weak and submissive, but you sorely underestimated me. I am a man consumed by desire and rage, and I will make you pay for your cruelty."

His other hand moves to fondle with your clothed breasts, "Coming to think of it.. I never touched.. Maybe tonight is the time .. I finally discover your secrets."

"Don't even think of it.. Move your filthy hands off me!!" your legs pushing his chest away from your body.

Toji's eyes narrow, his lips curling into a predatory smile. "Oh, I think I've already discovered your secrets, my dear. You're just as desperate for my touch as I am for yours. You can scream all you want, but no one will come to save you. You're mine, and I will have my way with you."

His grip on your wrist intensifies and he begins to move his hand lower, towards your thigh. "You've pushed me too far, and now it's time for you to learn a lesson you'll never forget. I'll make you beg for my touch, and when I'm done, you'll be mine completely."

"I should have kept a body guard..", your eyes get teary as you start feeling vulnerable. The thing that you hated the most.

Toji's eyes flicker with a hint of victory at your admission. "Yes, perhaps you should have," he murmurs, his voice thick with satisfaction. "But it's too late now. There's no one coming to save you."

His fingers trail along the edge of your clothing, teasingly close to bare skin. "I plan to make it as painful and pleasurable as possible. You'll come to cherish these moments, begging for more, even as you curse my name."

His eyes gleam with malicious intent as he leaned in, his breath hot against your ear. "Every benefit you receive carries a price; for the service I've rendered you over the years, my dear wife, I require my due compensation. I'm not interested in payments via cheque, cash, or phone apps. I seek recompense through your body."

"I will never.. ever.. submit to you .. Toji Fushiguro..", you land kick on his side, attempting to run away from his grasp, yet he remains unaffected. He does grunt as your kick connected with his side, but he doesn't release you. Instead, he smirks, his gaze heated. "You.. Keep struggling, but you're only making this worse for yourself. Give in to me, let me show you the pleasure you've denied yourself for so long."

Slowly, he slides his hand underneath your clothing, his fingertips brushing against your skin unclasping your bra, taking it off you easily. You squirm beneath him, but his grip remains firm, unwavering.

"D-dont do it ..", you try squirming again.

Toji's lips twitch into a cruel grin. "Ah, but I must. After all, I promised to teach you a lesson, and I always keep my promises." His fingers continues their relentless exploration, caressing your nipple gently before pinching it firmly.

"Feel it, wife. Feel the pleasure I can give you, even as I punish you. Let your body betray your reluctance, let it crave what you claim to despise." He leans in closer, his breath ghosting over your ear as he whispers, "And remember, this is all ya fault. You made me this way."

You buck beneath him, trying to escape his grasp, but his hold on you unyielding. He pushes your top up, yanking it off you, exposing your breasts.

"S-stop ..", your hands escapes his grip swiftly, trying to hide your bare chest from his monstrous gaze.

Toji's eyes roams over your exposed body hungrily, drinking in the sight of your exposedness for the first time. "Such beauty, wasted on someone like you..."

He reaches out, his finger trailing down your sternum, then moving to your neck, causing goosebumps to rise. Your hands pushing his face, gripping his hair, trying to yank him off you.. But everything fails. And you know if you try hitting him, it'll enrage him further. Your hits are nothing in comparison to the hits requried to knock this giant man down.

Toji chuckles darkly, his grip on you unbreakable. "You cannot escape me, my dear. Not tonight." His fingers dance lightly along your collarbone, tracing patterns that sent chills down your spine. "You wanted control, you craved dominance, and now you shall experience both in equal measure."

As his fingers reaches your breast, he gently slapped your hands and, cupped your breasts, squeezing slightly before letting go. His eyes sparkling with mischief as he watches you writhe under his touch. "Soon, you'll beg for more."

Refusing to yield, you remain steadfast in your refusal to submit to him. You attempt to land kicks once again, this time more haphazardly and with greater force.

Toji catches one of your legs easily, his eyes gleaming with a mix of anger and lust. "Keep struggling, wife. Make it harder on yourself." He responds, his voice thick with emotion. His gaze lingers on your body, taking note of every twitch and shiver.

With a swift movement, he rolls you onto your stomach, restraining your arms behind your back, squeezing your face on the ground. His veins bulged on his hands as he gripped your hair tightly, pressing your cheeks against the cold floor with force.

Toji smirked, enjoying the fight in you. He pressed his body against yours, his erection evident through his clothes. "What happened to the lioness?" he mocked. "Got defeated by a mere dog?"

He reaches for your hefty priced skirt, ripping it down, revealing your bare ass. His hand hovers over it for a moment before bringing it down, delivering a sharp slap. You cry out in surprise and pain, arching your back.

"Fuck you that dress's worth is more than yours", Toji's eyes fall on your reddened teary-face. He gazes for a while before laughing cruelly, the sound echoing in the quiet room.

"Is that all you can muster, a reprimand for my actions? I thought you'd beg for mercy by now." His hand falls again, this time harder, the sting of the slap searing through your body.

"You are tough I must say" He speaks, his voice dark and heavy with emotion. His eyes flash with mischief as he prepared for his next move.

"L-let me go now", your tone somehow shifts to a plea.

He looks down at your red, angry cheeks and puffy lips, his gaze shifting to your ass, the imprints of his five fingers are distinctly visible on your skin. "Shall I?"

"YOU WILL LET ME GO BASTARD i WILL KILL YOU," you yell at him, hating the way he was treating you, as if he owns you.

Toji pulls you up by your hair, leaning closer to your face, "Looks like you haven't learned your lesson yet. Need to shut that big mouth,"

You forcefully expel saliva from your mouth, deliberately directing it towards his face, "Never."

Toji's face flashes with a grin as he wipes off your spit from his face and licks his finger, his grip on your hair tightening. "Nasty bitch!" he snarls. His free hand frees his erection and you gasp on seeing how big he is. Big enough to nearly kill you.

"W-what the fuck do you think you are doing", you swallowed in anticipation.

Without responding, he pulls your mouth towards his erection, rubbing the tip on your swollen lips.

Your hands reach up to squeeze his shaft, intending to hurt him. Toji winces, his eyes flashing with pain and anger. "You really don't want to die, do you?" His voice shaking with fury as he grasps your wrists, locking them on either side of his legs, his precum leaking shaft rubbing against your cheek. "This is your punishment, and you're going to take it like a good girl."

Despite your resistance, he thrusts his erection into your mouth, forcing you to take him off. You could barely take in his entire length as drool cascades down your chin and your neck swells with every push. You struggle but he remains firm, so you use your teeth, nibbling on his dick.

Toji hisses in pain and anger, releasing you. "You fucking cunt! I should've known better." He slaps you, causing you to cry out in agony. "That's for biting me!" He grabs your hair again, pulling your head toward his dick and begins to thrust roughly.

"Hnghh-", tears stream down your cheeks, smudging your flawless makeup.

Toji's eyes squint seeing you cry, his lips curling up trying to hide his laugher. "Crying? That's cute. You're crying while servicing me!" His grasp on your head tightens as he keeps fucking your throat relentlessly. "Didn't think you could handle it huh? Too bad, because this is just beginning!"

Your eyes twitching in anger, you keep making noises of struggles.

Toji's thrusts increasing in speed. "Shut up, you ungrateful whore! This is what you deserve!" He slamms into you harder, ignoring your protests.

Why is he acting like that all of a sudden? You never thought the man you married is going to treat you like this. But yes karma, you have hurt him, you made him like this. HE IS RIGHT, you deserve this.

His grip tightened on your hair, his thrusts growing more violent until you screamed, tears streaming down your face. Finally, he cums, flooding your mouth with his seed. "Swallow it. I want to see your Adam's apple moving."

You involuntary swallow his seed. Toji stares at you, his breathing ragged, his eyes fixated on the sight of you swallowing his semen. "Good dog," he sneers, wiping his shaft clean.

You wipe your mouth weakly, "I will never forgive you. You are gonna face the consequences."

Toji chuckles coldly, releasing you. "Oh, the night just started.." He picks you up walking towards your bedroom.

"WHAT DO YOU MEAN BY THAT.. WE ARE DONE.. I AM GOING TO FUCKING DIVORCE YOU", you throw punches on his spine, your nails scratcing his clothed back.

Ignoring your threats, Toji places you on bed, tying your hands with his XXL tshirt to the headboard. His eyes glinting with excitement. "We're far from done, darling. Now, spread your legs, or shall I do it for you?"

"You are not allowed to touch me.. TOJI FUSHIGURO!"

Toji grins wickedly," Oh yeah?", with a swift movement he pulls your panties off you. You legs hiding your core from his gaze. His eyes locked on your resistant form. " He reaches down, spreading your legs apart with force. Your protest is soon silenced by a hard slap accross your clit.

"Now Now.. Look at that," he gathers your wetness with his finger and licks it, "Taste of a bitch in heat."

You bite your lower lip from embarassment. Toji's eyes darkens with lust, his fingers running through your damp entrance, teasing your hole. "You're so wet, yet you are protesting? Ah, I love it." He smirks before inserting his finger inside you, feeling you tense. His eyes searching for your reaction.

"You are lying.. It's not possible-", you still keep on protesting.

Toji pulls his finger, "Hmm?" He raises his eyebrow at you, "Am I? Prove me wrong!" He inserts another finger, stretching you wide. You gasp, arching your back. "Mmm, see for yourself", he then pulls his fingers out. He holds his fingers near your face, covered in your essence, "See?", forcing them into your mouth making you taste yourself.

Your eyes widening, cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

Toji's eyes gleam triumphantly, his fingers finding their way back inside you. "Pretend all you want, but your body knows the truth." His thumb rubbed your clit, expecting a moan from you. "You want to feel my cock inside you, and let us both know the truth."

"D-do what you want.. but I will not moan."

Toji's grin never wavered as he pulled out his finger. "Stubborn till the end, aren't we?"

He adjusts his position above you, his erection poised to enter you. "Very well, but you won't be able to help yourself soon enough." Before you can react, he thrusts into you roughly, invading your core. He groans at the tightness, his pace increasing.

Your hands tugging on the restraint, eyes watering again from the invasion. He leans in, whispering in your ear, "Let me hear it, your pleasure."

"F-fuck fuck.. pull it out already.. Toji", you nearly beg him.

Toji does not pull out instead he leans back, his dick sliding inside you further hitting your womb as tears spill out of your eyes from the stretching.

"Ohh.. What a sight to behold! The mistress is crying.. Is that how you request your controller?", he slows down a little.

"Please.. Toji... pull it out already", you feel your insides getting ripped everytime he pushes himself in you.

Toji laughs darkly, "Call me master Toji"

"Bastard", you reply.

He starts thrusting, roughly and harshly. "You want to die?"

"Pls master toji .. It's tearing me," your voice shaking with pain and confused pleasure.

His thrusts slows down again, his eyes scanning your tear-streaked face. "That's right. Who owns you?"

"Y-you..", you reply, your self respect crumbled against Toji's feet.

He smiles cruelly, "Mmm... What's that? I wanted to pull out, but your walls are not allowing me to." with that he keeps slamming into you. This time gentlier than before. Your face twisting in anger and tears.

"No, no..." he murmurs, leaning down to kiss your forehead softly. "It's alright. Embrace your submissive nature. You'll thank me later." His thrusting intensifies, his pace accelerating. You whimper, unable to control your pleasure. "It feels good hah?"

"N-no it does not," you lie. Toji's eyes glint at your lie. 'We will see about that" as he speeds up his thrusts, pulling your nipple causing you to cry even louder.

Suddenly moan escapes from your mouth, biting your lips you hide your shift your head right avoiding eye contact with him.

"There it is!" he whispers, his thrusts growing more erratic. "Didn't you just say, you won't moannn?" his mocking evident. "That's it, let go! Enjoy it!" He rams into you, owning you fully.

Your eyes locking on his again. "You look so beautiful, when you are this vulnerable and submissive." His words, punctuated by his thrusts, your moans filling the air. "So obedient..."

Your walls tighten, your climax reaching soon. Toji's thrusts slow down as he realizes your nearness. "Not yet..." He pulls his dick out, causing you to cry out.

"I decide when you cum. Remember that." He reaches down, playing with your clit. "Beg for it."

You look at him, your mind still not wanting to give in.

"Beg for it, or I will keep doing this the whole night" He repeats, his voice firm.

He strokes his cock, your eyes widened, realizing the threat. "Please Toji, let me cum.." Your voice trembled, your body tensing.

"Please what?", he smirks biting his lips.

"P-Please master..", you pout after saying the words.

Toji smirks, placing the tip back to your entrance. "Complete the sentence," he rubs your wet, puffy clit with his tip.

"P-Please master toji let me cum", your respect for yourself almost vanished as your eyes begged for him.

"Louder" He pushes his tip inside you, painfully slow.

"PLEASE MASTER TOJI LET ME CUM.. PLEASE .. I BEG OF YOU"

Toji lets out a satisfied growl, thrusting deep. "That's more like it, my good slave." He pounds you mercilessly, your pleas for release filling the air. "Cum. For me."

Your body tenses, toes curl as you orgasm hard, walls spasming rapidly against his cock. Toji watches your orgasm unfurl, his dick pulsating inside you. "Mmm, nice." He thrusts faster, his climax approaching. "Fuck, yes. So tight.. I never imagined you felt this good." He grunts, his breath hitched, his release imminent. "Gonna fill you up. Bet you won't remain selfish anymore once you have your own baby."

Only moans come out of you as he thrusts into your oversensitive pussy. Toji finishes his thrusts, spilling himself inside you, pulling out just to see his seed drooling out of your clamping walls. "Shit.. Look at that, so dirty", he pushes his dick inside you again, watching your body shuddering.

You mutter a low appologise as your breathing starts becoming stable once again. "Oh so now ya guilty?" Toji laughs, his dick twitching inside you still, he's getting hard once again. He pulls his dick out and drags you onto his lap.

He caresses your cheek, "Do you think I can ever forgive you baby? with all these years of disrespect that you flung at me?" his other hand pats your ass. "I dont want to hear your apologies. I will divorce you just like that."

You feel as though everything is falling apart around you. It's the last thing you expected to hear from him. You know you love him, but you chose to ignore your feelings up until this point. "Pls master.. d-dont divorce me .. I love you", you lean towards him, kissing his cheek.

Toji's eyes flickered for a moment, as you kiss his cheek. "Wow.. Just an orgasm out of you, put you in your place? Perhaps.. There's only one way to change my mind", he licks his tongue wanting to push your buttons. You look at him expectantly.

Toji's eyes sparked with devious delight "Show me how much you love me, my slave".

Sighing, you take his erect cock and insert it inside of you. You begin to flex and extend your hips along his girth.

Toji watches as you ride him, his eyes never leaving you, his eyes twinkling. "Mmm, nothing sexier than a woman in need," He growls, grabbing your hips and pushing you into his hips. "Ride it harder!" He groans, moving along with your rhythm. You nod and increase your pace, bouncing harder, his veins popping on his forehead.

"Impressive, but more!" His hands move to your neck, pulling you closer. "Yes.. Open your mouth whore" He grips your throat gently, tightening his hold.

You open your mouth, and Toji spits in it, "Swallow it". Without any delay you swallow it.

Toji laughs, "How the tables turn, huh?"

You lean to kiss him, but he grabs your neck not allowing you to get closer to him. "I don't want to kiss your nasty mouth bitch"

"P-please master toji.. kiss me", you beg him, hands reaching to caress his hand on your neck.

"Hmm?" he whispers, "Why would I do that?" He tightens his grip, making it harder for you to breathe. You gasp, your eyes locking with his.

"I am sorry," you cry and pout, hips slamming against his pubis while riding him.

"Apologizing?" He loosens his grip, allowing you to breathe easier. "Now that's better." He watches you, how you are engulfing his cock with each movement.

"Still want my kiss?" He taunts, as he release his grip on your neck.

"Yes.. please.. Kiss me"

Toji captures your lips, his tongue invading your mouth. You moan, wrapping your arms around his neck. He groans, the taste of your submission sweet. "Mmm, such a good slave." He pulls away, "Appology accepted". His mouth leans in to latch onto one of your breasts, tongue circling your nipples and his cheeks hollowing.

Unable to control yourself you squirt all over him. He grunts at your sudden tightness. "What the fuck- so tight ah.." He removes his dick from you, putting you on your knees and hands. "Pissing like a dog? Want me to piss on you too?"

"S-sorry master, I was unable to control myself", your eyes rolled from the experience, collapsing on the bed.

Toji spanks your ass, bringing you to your knees. He lines up his dick to your entrance, holding you steady. "Ya looking like a used slut." His dick slides in your entrance, stretching you again. You whine and whimper, thighs shaking from the ecounters before.

"So sensitive..", Toji scoffs.

"Please .. I am near .. fuck me harder", your voice pleading, eyes rolled, drools driping down your chin.

Toji's thrusts speed up, taking you from behind. "Such an Insatiable cum slut " He groans, his voice hoarse. "Tell me how much you want my cum inside you."

"Fill me up pls.... I am master Toji's cumdump"

Toji roars, slamming into you. "Mmm, yes. My cum dump bitch." He releases inside you, feeling you cum and contract around his dick. He pulls out, watching his seed dripping out of you. His eyes lingered over your pussy, "Maybe you deserve a reward after all."

Your whole body convulses. Toji pulls himself out, "Do you want the reward?"

"Please.. reward me master .. I am your good slave," you falter.

Toji smiles, "Very well, my pet. You're a good slave then" He licks your thighs "Mmm, I love you. But if you dare to disappoint me again..." His teeth nibbling on your clit, making you moan loudly. "You know where you stand." He coos and blows on your wetness, licking you clean. Your body trembles, his tongue exploring your folds.

Toji moans, licking your and his cum.. He suckles your clit, his tongue dancing around. A huge cum drop falls on his tongue which he thrusts inside you again.

"Such a good slave, you'll give me a healthy pup" He hums, kissing your inner thighs. Your breath hitches, your orgasm nearing.

Unable to make out anything, you keep taking the pleasure he gives you.

Toji chuckles, his pace unrelenting. "Make me feel needed, slut" He tongue flicks your clit, you shaking. "Cum for me girl" He pinches your clit, your juice flowing freely. "Ahh, so fucking delicious..."

"Gonna cum .. Love you Toji .. a-ah", you blabber. "Yes, my whore. Go ahead" He growls, licking your juice dripping on his lips. Your thighs wrap around him, cumming again. He licks your cum from his tongue, your legs trembling.

"Good girl". He kisses your neck then pulling you closer to his dick.

"Clean your mess from it" He whispers.

Toji breathes heavily, your mouth enveloping his half-hardened dick. It gets hard again, "Mmm, yes, clean it nicely" He cups your head, his shaft coats in your saliva. "Like that, slut" His hand affectionately messes your hair, your moaning muffled. "So good... God.. I should have done this a lot earlier." He watched you swallow his dickhead, your saliva running down your chin. He laughs, his breaths hitched.

You suck on his balls while he strokes his length, "You know how to make a man happy" he whispers. He pulls you by your hair rubbing his dick on your cheeks.

He leans back, hips jerking. "Mmm, shoot!", his cum splattering across your face, your tongue sticking out, trying to catch some cum drops. He smiles, wiping your face.

"Mmm, so obedient, my little cum dump" He whispers, kissing your lips. "You did great today and if you dare to mistreat me again.."

"I will put you in your place.. Like how I did today."

DIVIDERS FROM @/cafekitsune

[0cta9on]

Sana and Miyeon fucking their boyfriend and they fight over him to make him choose her favorite girlfriend (full story please)

A Stroke of Luck

length: +3k words

Twice Sana x (G)-Idle Miyeon x Male Reader

(Author's Note: Sorry for taking so long!! First threesome piece, so I hope it's alright)

【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★

Sometimes you wonder just how you got so lucky. Since the day you were born, you were able to glide through life, getting anything you could ever want with a simple wave of your hand or a nod of your head. Perhaps your life of luxury can be attributed to your incredibly wealthy parents spoiling you the second you drew your first breath, or maybe your past life sacrificed themselves to save the universe and the higher power up there is finally giving you your recompense. Regardless, you revel in the fact that you have everything - and everyone - right at the tip of your fingers.

Frankly, you have a vague memory of how you met them - your memory always gets hazy when alcohol is involved. You were never too keen on clubbing, viewing it as a waste of money for a night you’ll never be able to remember, but it was a small price to pay to appease some potential business partners that your parents would eventually bleed dry before tossing to the curb. While trying to keep up appearances, the crowd parted at just the right moment, allowing you to gaze upon these goddesses for the first time, two Mona Lisas that made even the most beautiful supermodel comparable to a two-year-old’s crayon drawing. This is when your memory gets a bit blurry. A quick exchange of sultry alcohol-infused words, a brief yet lingering touch on the arm, and suddenly you had them both face down in some expensive hotel room, pounding away to high heaven. After a night of blissful sex, you would wake up alone with a note on the nightstand and one new message on your phone from an unknown number. Upon reading the note, only then did you realize just how truly lucky you are.

That night was a year ago. In fact, today marks the exact anniversary of that night - your first anniversary with your girlfriends. You have a whole schedule planned for later, which includes an expensive dinner for the three of you, a private fireworks show, and a steamy ending between the sheets as the cherry on top. As bizarre and outlandish as your situation is, you genuinely do love them and want to spoil them with a good time. Unfortunately (or rather, fortunately), one of them isn’t content with waiting around until dinner rolls by.

The sight of the cute Japanese woman crawling towards you in nothing but one of your white button-up shirts is a sight you would gladly get surgically implanted into your retinas. She tries to glare at you menacingly, but her round eyes and her bread-like cheeks only serve to make her look adorable.

“Sana, what are you doing?” You ask, amused.

“I’m a tiger stalking their prey. Rawr~” she teases, stifling a giggle. Any attempts at trying to watch the game on the TV prove futile once Sana starts rubbing your thighs, her hands tantalizingly close to your crotch.

“Miyeon is gonna be pissed if she finds out we’re fucking without her, you know?” You say as you run your hands lovingly through her silky hair.

“If she finds out.” Sana punctuates her statement with a kiss on your bulge. “Just don’t let her find out,” she giggles. Before you can object, her hands are already unzipping your pants and taking out your erect cock. Sana gazes at it affectionately, licking her lips as she strokes you slowly. Compared to Miyeon, she is much more vocal about her desires, begging and pouting until you finally give in to her demands (Not that you would ever say no to that face). Whether it’s a new handbag or your cock inside of her, Sana gets what she wants one way or another.

“You naughty girl,” you tease, caressing her cheek. “You really can’t wait until Miyeon gets home?”

“Mm-mm,” she mutters, shaking her head before taking your entire length into her mouth. The overwhelming sensation of her tongue lapping up your precum causes an involuntary groan to escape your throat. An entire year of this and not once does it ever get old. Life is fucking great, isn’t it?

Sana’s doe eyes scan your reaction as she worships your member, always so attentive, ensuring that you’re enjoying the experience as much as she is. She watches the way you squirm when she sucks on your balls or the way your breath hitches in your throat whenever her teeth gently graze against your skin. To the unknowing eye, Sana can easily be seen as a materialistic brat, but you know better than anyone how much she reciprocates your affection. It’s most evident in how hard she tries to take all of you in at once, struggling to the point of tears as she forces your cock down her throat.

“Fuck, Sana,” you moan. “Save some of that energy for later tonight.”

She struggles to catch her breath after another attempt at deepthroating you. Precum and saliva coat her mouth and chin, dripping down to her chest that’s barely hidden behind your white button-up shirt.

“I just can’t help myself when I’m with you. That beast between your legs is just sooooo enticing.” Sana hops into your lap, pressing her full body weight into you. You feel her panting breath tickle your nose while you stare at the many charming features of her face. How lucky you are to have such a beautiful woman in your life.

“Why are you smiling?” she teases, the sweet sound of her laugh brushing against your ears.

“I love you, Sana,” you state firmly. Her cheeks turn a bright shade of pink right before she hides her embarrassed expression in the crook of your neck, giggling delightfully. You’re so infatuated by her cuteness that you almost forget that she’s naked and sitting on your lap. Almost.

One by one, you unbutton her shirt, slowly revealing that body you love so much. Her full, perky breasts sit above her toned stomach which flows and ebbs into her petite waist. You run your hands along her familiar curves, painting her chest with kisses. Your body aches for her and hers for yours, clawing and gripping and kissing every inch of your beings, trying to absorb one another just to get closer than humanly possible.

Sana cups your face, eyes steeled with lustful determination. “I need you to fuck me. Fuck me so hard that Miyeon gets jealous. I want to be the only woman for you, even if it’s just for a little moment.”

Without another word, you stand up, carrying her by her ass and aligning your cock with her moist folds before staring deep into her eyes as you thrust yourself into her, watching her face morph into several shapes of desire as she adjusts to your size. Sana’s arms and legs wrap around your torso, desperately clinging onto you to try and take in every inch of your cock. You’re not sure how long she’s felt like this; you always considered her and Miyeon to be a package deal, never one without the other for too long. You love them both equally and always ensure that you never showed favorites. Maybe you slipped up recently, or maybe the two of them are fighting behind the scenes. Whatever it is, if Sana wants to feel like the only woman in your life, you’ll gladly grant her wish in a heartbeat.

“Sana… baby… I love you so much,” you pant into her ear.

“MMPH, yes! I love you too, baby! F-Fuck! You’re the only one that can satisfy me!” She mashes her lips into yours, forcing your tongues into a messy yet sensual dance. Her moans vibrate in your mouth, drowning out any kind of background noise other than the clapping of your hips against hers. Her sweet pussy takes you in so well, almost as if it was tailor-made just for you. However, your cock belongs to two women. One of those women happens to be unlocking the front door right at this moment.

“Hey guys, I’m bac- Hey!”

Much to Sana’s dismay, you momentarily pause your thrusts to glance at the source of the voice. The second love of your life, Miyeon, is standing right there with a large bouquet of flowers and an irritated pout on her lips.

“Hi princess,” you say to her, hoping to ease the tension. “What do you have there?”

“They’re from work,” she huffs, tossing the flowers onto the sofa before stomping towards you. “What are you doing?!”

You let out a sheepish laugh as you set Sana down to the ground, pulling out of her sweet embrace. Now two pairs of unhappy eyes are looking up at you. “W-well, you see, you know how Sana is-”

“How could you two have sex without me?!” Miyeon exclaims.

“Yah, don’t yell at him!” Sana interjects. “It’s not his fault he prefers my pussy over yours!”

“O-okay, I never said th-” You try to come in between them, but they both push you away with surprising synchronization.

“No, he doesn’t! You probably just threw yourself at him, you slut!”

Sana gasps. “Slut?! You’re just jealous that he likes me more than you!”

The two continue to bicker and argue, and you start to worry that things could get physical. Right as Sana lifts her hand, you step in between the two of them, shielding Miyeon from a potential slap.

“OKAY, let’s all calm down for a second, alright?” You gently grasp Sana’s wrist, putting it down by her side. “What is going on between you two? You guys are best friends, why are you fighting all of a sudden?”

The two fall silent, averting their teary eyes to the floor, standing there like bickering sisters. You never expected this kind of behavior from either of them, especially on the day of your anniversary.

“Look at me,” you command, lifting up both of their chins towards you. “I love the both of you and I don’t want to see you fighting. We’re going to stand here and talk until this all gets resolved, even if it takes all night.”

Seeing the serious look in your eyes, both of their expressions soften. Sana is the first to speak up.

“I see the way you treat Miyeon. Sometimes I feel like you like her more than me, and it makes me feel… jealous.”

Compared to Sana, Miyeon is on the quieter side, rarely demanding things from you or complaining about anything. In the beginning of your relationship, you assumed that she wasn’t into the idea of polygamy and only tagged along because of Sana. It took a while to understand her, but you eventually found out that Miyeon just doesn’t like asking for things and wants you to basically read her mind. Now, you can tell exactly what she’s thinking just from her body language, and Miyeon consequently became more affectionate towards you. Sana must have noticed the differences in the way you treat her and thought you were showing favoritism.

“Okay, yes, I treat Miyeon differently than I treat you, but that doesn’t mean I love her more than you, Sana,” you reassure her. “You girls have different personalities and both of you deserve a man that can love you the way you want to be loved. I’m sorry if it seems like I treat her better, but that’s really not the case, okay? Please don’t fight because I made a mistake.”

Sana and Miyeon look at each other with an apologetic expression before falling into a warm embrace.

“I’m sorry I fucked him without you,” Sana apologizes.

“I’m sorry I called you a slut.”

Sana pulls Miyeon into a deep and loving kiss. It starts out innocently enough, but eventually, the two begin moaning into each other’s mouths while their hands explore their bodies. You can’t help but stroke your cock at the sight of your two ladies making out in front of you. Miyeon notices your erection and whispers giddily into Sana’s ear, prompting a mischievous smile to grow on the Japanese woman’s lips.

“We’re so sorry about fighting, baby,” Sana says in a sultry tone.

“Yeah, we’ve been such naughty girls.” Miyeon looks at you with her siren eyes, drawing you in with a simple glance. “Maybe you should punish us, baby.”

Sana reaches out and grabs your rod, pulling you closer. “Yeah, punish us with your big, fat cock.”

With your heart pounding with excitement, you grab their wrists, pulling them towards the bedroom as the sounds of their giggles trail behind you. You throw them towards the bed, quickly freeing yourself from any clothing as they watch with anticipation. Miyeon bites her lip as she ogles your body, while Sana touches herself just thinking about all the things you’ll do to the both of them.

“Miyeon is a bit overdressed, don’t you think so, Sana?” You ask, smirking. Sana nods in agreement, pulling Miyeon into a heavy kiss while her hand snakes its way into her top. You get to work on Miyeon’s bottom half, kneeling in front of her and tugging at her skirt to reveal the damp spot on her panties. You pull Miyeon’s legs over your shoulder so her thighs sandwich your face and begin planting kisses all over her supple skin. Sana tosses Miyeon’s top and bra to the other side of the room before sucking on Miyeon’s perky tits. Her high-pitched princess moans fill the room, accompanied by the wet kissing sounds of you and Sana pleasuring her body.

“Ah, fuck! Yes, just like that!” Miyeon exclaims. You hungrily pull off her panties before diving into her heat, licking between her folds and flicking your tongue against her clit. Sana sits behind her, holding her spasming body while nibbling her ear.

“I bet you’re sooooo exhausted after work, aren’t you, princess?” Sana whispers into Miyeon’s ear. Miyeon nods amidst her whimpering, biting her lip at her girlfriend, begging for her to take her. Sana obliges, shoving her tongue into her mouth as you shove your tongue into Miyeon’s dripping pussy. It doesn’t take long for Miyeon to reach her first orgasm, squirting her nectar all over your face which you gladly lap up, not wasting a single drop. Her body shivers with pleasure, but you have only just begun.

Sana and Miyeon watch intently as you stand up and align your cock with Miyeon’s glistening heat. With a mischievous smirk, Sana moves aside, letting Miyeon lie on her back. Miyeon’s mouth forms an “O” as you insert your tip inside of her, and Sana seizes the chance by sitting on Miyeon’s face, grinding her hips into the Korean woman’s open mouth. Your bodies form a literal love triangle as Sana pulls your face towards her, catching your lips with hers as you thrust deeply into Miyeon. You imagined this to be the last thing you did on your anniversary night instead of the first thing, but you don’t mind doing things a bit out of order. As long as these two lovely ladies are happy, you’re happy.

“Isn’t Miyeon’s pussy so tight, baby?” Sana asks with a smirk on her face. You nod, becoming increasingly aroused by Sana’s dirty talk, quickening the pace of your thrusts. Miyeon’s muffled moans become significantly louder, causing Sana to cling onto your shoulders for support as she reaches her climax. Sana pulls your head into another kiss, moaning into her mouth as her body trembles from her orgasm. She eventually collapses to the side of the bed, allowing Miyeon to finally breathe. 

The light reflects off of Sana’s nectar on Miyeon’s skin, giving her the appearance of a glimmering angel. You slow down the pace of your thrusts, bringing your face close to Miyeon’s ear.

“Mirror?” You ask simply. She nods excitedly, biting her lip with anticipation.

If there’s one thing you learned about Miyeon since dating her for the past year, it’s that she absolutely adores herself. If she suddenly turned quiet, it was because she was either staring at a mirror or taking selfies. Every time she sent you nudes, it was more so to show you just how beautiful is rather than solely for your benefit (Not that you minded, of course). On the nights the three of you felt particularly frisky and decided to film yourselves, Miyeon would always rewind her parts, going on about how sexy she looks when she’s about to cum or how pretty her own moans sound. You wouldn’t say she’s narcissistic; rather, she’s just confident in her looks, and she had every reason to be. Cho Miyeon is the perfect embodiment of a princess, and you love that about her.

You bend Miyeon over the vanity, making sure she has a good view of herself before you rail her from behind. She peers over her shoulder at you and winks, wiggling her ass playfully.

“What are you waiting for? Aren’t you gonna punish m- AH!”

You grip onto Miyeon’s slim waist and begin to pound her hot cunt with ease. The entire vanity shakes as she clings onto it for dear life, barely able to support herself as her legs become as stable as jelly. Despite the stage of disarray she’s in, Miyeon maintains eye contact with herself in the mirror, evidently turning her on more with how her pussy tightens around your cock.

“Cum for me, princess,” you whisper gruffly into her ear. “You look so pretty when you cum.”

“I do?” she asks, flashing her puppy dog eyes at you through the mirror. You nod, unable to speak a coherent word as the sensation begins to feel too much. Miyeon squeals with pleasure as her juices begin to leak down her legs and onto the floor. You hold her up in case her trembling legs give out on her as she rides out her orgasm.

“Good girl,” you reassure her, planting kisses all over her back. Once she calms down, you help her to the bed and lay her down gently next to Sana.

“That was so fucking hot, princess,” Sana says, giving Miyeon a small peck on the lips. Miyeon giggles, her eyes barely able to stay open. With Sana’s energy back and your cock still hard, she descends on you like a panther, pinning you to the bed.

“Miyeon’s tongue is nice, but I needdddd your fat fucking cock inside of me,” she smirks as she straddles your lap, guiding your tip inside of her pussy. Her eyes roll back inside of her head as she takes you little by little, before completely bottoming out inside of her. After a moment of adjusting, Sana begins to ride your cock, holding onto your chest for support. You squeeze and tug at her bouncing tits, eliciting cute little squeals from her. A still-tired Miyeon decides to join in the fun, pushing Sana down onto your cock with more force and teasing her clit.

“HOLY FUCK!” Sana squeals ecstatically.

“I bet you like being a little slut, huh?” Miyeon teases her. “You like being filled up by our boyfriend’s cock, don’t you?”

“FUCK! Yes, I love it so much!”

“You wanna be filled with his cum, right baby?” Miyeon smirks at you as she whispers into Sana’s ear. With how close you are, you have no choice but to follow along with her impromptu plan. 

“Oh god, yes please fill me with your cum, baby!” Sana exclaims, eyeing you desperately. Miyeon’s hand trails up your chest as she leans in towards you.

“You heard her,” she says, slyly cupping your cheek. “Better give her what she wants.”

Without hesitation, you shoot your load straight into Sana’s womb. Sana’s second orgasm follows shortly after, your fluids mixing together inside of her. Out of an entire year of fucking these two wonderful girls, this is the hardest orgasm you have ever experienced.

Eventually, Sana collapses on top of you, gasping for breath, while Miyeon quickly laps up the fluids dripping from the Japanese woman’s legs. You can’t help but laugh at Sana’s post-orgasm shivering.

“H-holy… shit,” Sana says breathlessly. “That… was fucking amazing.”

Miyeon crawls up, laying her head on Sana’s chest. “Yeah, he’s pretty great, isn’t he?” The two girls giggle at each other, exchanging playful kisses and warm looks. You wrap your arm around the both of them, grateful that they’re not fighting anymore.

“How did I get so lucky to have the two of you in my life?” You ask, gazing at these two beauties lovingly. With a quick glance at the clock, you notice that you still have a couple hours until the dinner reservation. “Why don’t you two hop in the shower and get ready? I have something special planned for tonight.”

“You’re not gonna join us?” Miyeon asks.

“I would love to, princess, but I know for a fact that we’re not gonna make it to dinner if I join you in the shower,” you joke. Sana jolts up, grabbing Miyeon’s wrist.

“I am NOT missing out on dinner,” Sana states, dragging Miyeon into the bathroom with her. Right before they close the door behind them, they turn to you one last time.

“We love you!” They say in unison. 

You lay back on the bed, smiling to yourself as you look up at the ceiling. How did you ever get so lucky?

[tarjapearce]

Mi Dulce Cereza

Ranchero! Miguel O'Hara x Reader

Synopsis: Revenge's path is never an easy feat. Not when love for the enemy and other feelings get in the way. Would it rise and come out as a victor? Or would it succumb to the sweetest of beings?

WARNING: Novela level drama, Toxic relationships, character introduction, mild and brief sexual tension, No use of YN, Family feud, scheming, disingenuous behaviors. No proofread

Summary: Miguel's revenge is set into motion.

A/N: Centuries later, here it is <3, hope you enjoy this new version! So nervous about this jskjs. Thanks to my beta reader @oharasmommymilkers00 for the help <3

"Ma!"

The ten-year-old boy called, desperate as he searched and scourged the house he lived in, to eventually find her mother in his younger brother's room.

Ravenous and long curls adorned her back. Brown beautiful eyes stared with adoration at the little six-year-old boy, carefully tucked in her arms as she combed her child's wavy strands away from his innocent face.

"Ma!" the boy called a bit more urgent as he tugged on her skirt, earning him a hushed grunt from her.

"Gabriel está durmiendo, Miguel!" (Gabriel is sleeping)

"No, Ma! Debes venir a la entrada! Hay gente buscando a George!" (You gotta come to the door! There's people looking for George!)

Conchata quickly put Gabriel into his crib and darted to the entrance. Panic and bile rose in her insides.

The banging on the feeble and rusty metal doors alarmed Conchata the more she approached the main hacienda's door.

Much to her and Miguel's surprise a group of men, awaited outside. Dressed in the blue and white colors proper of a Santa Margarita's Town police officer.

Miguel's eyes wandered over the guns that nested on the men's hips as they rode their horses haughtily. But paid special attention to the man leading them.

Hardened and weathered face, partially obscured by his camel brown Stetson hat, dressed up sharply, letting his belt and the overall imposing aura to do the talk for him, same as his horse and everything that donned his body. His eyes narrowed as soon as he saw Conchata.

"Miss Stone. I believe it's the third time I ask for you to leave" He acknowledged sternly.

A surname that made Miguel's churn in utter discomfort, but his mother always told him to give that name to strangers, since the O'Hara was only for the family. But even that one didn't sit right in his heart either. Not when the provider of such surname had been long gone from their lives, with no intention of returning.

And the men before his home were everything but familiar, strangers at best. Invaders. Trespassers with a penchant for intimidation as they were all armed to the teeth.

"The hell you want?!" Conchata crossed her arms and returned the steely glare the handsome and powerful man gave her.

His mother's bravado was certainly something Miguel could look up, despite the woman not being her best title of mother with him. But her bravery made him courageous.

"For you to leave my property."

"What are you talking about?! This is not your property, Anderton!"

A man like Pastor William was hard to ignore, not when power and influences oozed from him by merely existing.

"It is. You're living in Edenton's. Half the area is mine now."

"I have my property papers! This is outright ridiculous!" Conchata huffed as she sent Miguel to to get them.

"My lawyer is here. So we can have this settled once for all."

"There is nothing to settle!, I told your people I wouldn't sell my home and now you're acting far from someone that believes in God to get it!, maldita rata!" (fucking rat)

William narrowed his eyes at the last words that spilled with venom from Conchata's plump lips. He wasn't a man to give easily into anger, but his patience wasn't something to be tested either.

He had bought a good chunk of Edenton's territory and much to Conchata's dismay her home was right in the middle of said property.

The boy wasted no time into retrieving her mother's proofs of ownership as she opened the door to see the man that ground her nerves in seconds. Face to face.

And when the policeman and lawyer took a brief look at them, they could only snort in derision upon reading them.

"Not only are they outdated, but the important signatures are missing. This is fake."

Conchata paled, and she clutched her chest. Her heart pounded so hard she had to grab Miguel's lanky arm to support herself. Everything was slowly falling apart.

"Ma?"

Her boy looked up at her, concern plastered over his young yet understanding face

"T-That cannot be! George left it all arranged before leaving!"

"He didn't. Otherwise I wouldn't be here."

William gave the papers to his lawyer as he climbed off the horse and Conchata immediately tried to get them back, but tore them im the process

"No! No! That's not true! My papers " She shrieked and the police officer intervened as soon as she tried to go for Anderton's lawyer.

"Stop! " Miguel was held back after kicking the officer's shin.

Conchata freed herself from the guard's grip, only to deliver a hard slap on William's face.

"La vas a pagar caro cabrón! A mi nadie me sacará de mi casa!" (You'll pay for this. None kicks me out of my home!)

The officers held Conchata back and Miguel, since the boy attempted to defend the remnants of his mother's dignity. But there was little they could do.

Conchata's land was prosperous, and so far it provided a good income to live rather peacefully and away from the rest. Until now.

William was rather strict and apprehensive about his properties. He owed half the town, and for Conchata to live there, right in the spot he wanted to build his home for his new family, rendered nothing but a black and ugly spot to his future dream.

Buthe would erase it. And if he needed to get over the law, to get it, he would. Influences had their perks. And these worked to his favor without a hitch.

"I'll give you three days for you to pack it up 'n leave."

"Three days?! Where am I going to find a place to live? My children... I can't leave-"

"I'm sure the local shelters will take you in gladly. Be grateful I got you time."

William seethed with his usual calm, sending shivers down Miguel's spine, as the boy held onto his mother's skirt.

The men turned around in their horses and soon began galloping away, but William got up on the beast back, remaining high and proud. Looking down at him.

For a man to make Conchata to clutch and hold on to him so protectively, meant she had no power at all. That she had been defeated. Something his childish brain thought impossible.

It reminded him the ways she sometimes protected him and Gabriel from George in his usual drunk fits.

That day, Pastor William Anderton remained forever engraved in Miguel's core memories and in his heart's growing rage.

Resentment wasn't often a feeling a boy so young like him should experience. But there he was, memorizing every dip, pore and soft wrinkle from the man's features so his heart and mind wouldn't forget him.

So he wouldn't forget who had been the monster that forced his family to leave and abandon everything he had known so far.

Miguel O'Hara had no longer a home.

But if there was something William had forgotten, was to never scorn a woman. Much less one with a fiery temper and a heart full of fresh wounds.

He had doused her wounded heart in salt, rubbed with it and then tossed it to the fire. To let it break and burn to ashes.

William hadn't shown mercy, despite the word coming from his mouth every Sunday in his church as part of his speech to the masses.

But Conchata's mind was already turning and plotting.

----

Miguel's upbringing was everything but easy, but that didn't stop him from achieving whatever goals he proposed.

Shelters and rental homes were left behind, and soon he earned a scholarship into a college, earning him a degree and masters in agronomy and large-scale management.

Gabriel in the meantime helped Conchata around the house. Having little side hustles for himself.

But as he grew up, so did his hatred for the Andertons. It didn't help that Conchata threw more dry hatred bones to the vengeful fire with her bitter tells. She always boasted on whatever little thing the Andertons did with spite and hatred in her heart.

William's face remained intact in Miguel's brain. Ever hardened and cruel, impassive to anyone else's suffering. Indifferent to his mother's pleas.

The day they left everything they knew, scarred him to this very day. Miguel sworn to one day, he'd owe his own estate, full of everything he always wanted.

He wouldn't have to sojourn through shelters and temporary homes ever again, having a hard time sleeping because of his mother's safety. He wouldn't have to look down in fear and shame when people that breathed and exhaled money, talked to him.

He wouldn't have to see his mother, shitty as she was sometimes, breaking down for not having for the most basic of needs. And he definitely wouldn't let himself to be trampled all over again by anyone. Not rich, nor poor.

Now, with a master's degree in his pocket, a new project rose in his mind. Train and rehab horses professionally. An emerging and blooming business within Santa Margarita.

Everything out of hearing that William entered a new venture. Purebred horses.

Of course a man like him had to be in the mouth of every people in town.

William ran the biggest church in the city, had multiple successful and clean business thanks to his estate, Cherryville. And now, the horses.

A novelty in town. He'd often see through the newspaper images of William and his wife, Rosaura, telling how wonderful and valuable they were for the community, and how much their philanthropic tendencies helped those in need. The man was rotting money after all.

Oh, the irony. Miguel sometimes wondered if William did it out of genuine vocation, cause he had to give the man some credit for keeping a saint facade in front of the rest for so long. He was doing it go hard or go home.

If people only knew the scum he is.

If everyone truly knew who Pastor William J. Anderton was, none would spare him a glance. None would look at his way twice to spare him some kind words. Everyone would shun him and mark him a fraud. His world would collapse. Something Miguel needed to achieve.

The purebred training horse's business opened his contact list, and with his smarts and the follow of his intuition, it took him a couple of years to get him in the map of those that were in dire need of help and could afford it.

Cause if he could exploit the rich, he wouldn't waste the chance of earning good money. Not when his personal estate was under construction and renovations, away in it's own heaven, outside Santa Margarita.

He stopped introducing himself as Miguel Stone long ago. He didn't want anything to do with that surname that stirred nothing but hatred and suffocating anger, towards the man that harmed his little and already broken family even more. And the O'Hara had earned him a bit of reputation.

A credible and respectful renown to meet people that gave him the chance to not only learn from the best horse trainers, but gave him the chance to apply everything he knew. Adding even more value to his resume.

Gabriel also graduated college, following Miguel's steps. Although the latter was more inclined to production than management. He was a more practical man than the over thinker of his brother.

Together they made a phenomenal duo, but when separated, months could pass before they saw eachother again.

But with Miguel's plan running, Gabriel promised him to remain close and available as possible to see it through.

In fact, William sought him out himself to ask him if he could train his horses and took full on responsibility of his farm.

-----

He was ready to set his plan into motion. None other than his number one enemy had hired him.

Miguel's body buzzed with a mix of anxiety and excitement. Being the best to get hired was scratched off his list.

Soon all the hatred festering in his heart to the man that destroyed his childhood and family, would come to fruition. But there was a remaining distraction.

Dana.

"Remind me again, why are you going to a farm to be exploited and mistreated by rich people?"

The soft voice behind him echoed in his room. Miguel sat naked on the bed, as the short-haired brunette with blue eyes hugged him from behind and kissed his cheek and neck.

"Gotta make it as believable as possible if I want to expose the Andertons."

Dana just hummed, seeing him so determined and focused into getting this family feud, settled once and for all, amused her to no end.

Dana rolled her eyes while resting her chin on his sharp and well worked shoulder, "But no need to be so serious."

It was Miguel's turn to roll his eyes and stand up, reaching his underwear in tandem.

"Don't be cold, Miggy. I just wanna see you again, once you're victorious, so we can keep celebrating"

Miguel chuckled with derision as he took a towel and wrapped it up loosely against his waist.

"I'm good, thanks. And there's no we in this."

"Are you sure? I mean, I spread word around on you and look at you now. The best trainer. I'd say I'm also part of this too"

Her voice irked sometimes whenever it got like this. Sickly sweet and full of lies. Even more when she purred nothing but half truths.

In truth, he had met Dana for the past six months, all thanks to Gabriel that suggested her as a contact link to those he wanted to get at. Filthy and obscenely rich people that needed someone to help them out with their properties as soon as possible, to salvage them out of sentimentalism.

Even though the initial chemistry was undeniable, it had worn out thanks to her insufferable and possessive attitude. And no matter how many times he'd tell her a plain and outright No, she kept insisting. She was the one that always returned and always ended up in his bed.

"Yeah, no. Look, I don't want you snooping around. And I mean it."

The only that believed that they were something. Sure, Dana served his purpose to keep those physical urges away, but other than that, there was nothing substantial about her he could say he was attracted to, besides her contacts.

Dana's hands tried to reach him, but Miguel stepped away from her touch, recoiling with haste and heading for the shower.

"If you ruin this for me, I swear, We'll have problems."

More than they already did? Impossible.

Dana just laughed, "Don't be mean, you gotta reward me one way or another for your clientele."

"Dios mio... Con qué loca me vine a enredar" (My God, what a crazy woman I came to get involved with)

He mumbled while stepping into the shower.

"I'll see you soon, baby." Her giggles had his eyes rolling with annoyance and his shoulders squaring.

He'd leave in a couple of hours, to start what his whole self had been preparing for years. Soon the Andertons would know him.

----

Returning to the place he grew up had his stomach in a tight and anxious knot, tighter than a hair's tangle.

The once colorless and rusty metal doors he loved to slam with his soccer ball while playing with Gabriel, were now turned into sturdy, iron structures that moved automatically. Sliding to the side to let him in as soon as he reported himself through the camera's speaker.

A Stony L-shaped wall held a metallic letters into another metallic structure. Cherryville Ranch.

He had arrived and his heart beat at the uncomfortable sensation of seeing his home destroyed and turned into a colonial-like resort.

Where there was a modest yet firm built, one floored home, was now a two floored manor that extended left to right. A vibrant sunset orange dressed the walls of the structure, adding enough color to the place sumptuous grandeur.

The staff ran up and down, bustling and moving like busy ants through the anthill, obeying the queen. Or rather monarchs.

His black Chevrolet Silverado parked outside, following the instructions of a man that gave him the ok with a good smile.

He had arrived ten minutes earlier, just in case. Miguel stepped out and put on his hat.

A black and brown flannel dressed up his torso snugly, a pair of jeans that did a wonderful job into containing his well worked legs, the belt just hugged his narrow waist, accentuating his sculpted physique.

The man offered his help with his suitcase, but Miguel refused with a polite smile.

"Keep going straight and you'll get to Mr. Anderton's office. It's the only brown door in this floor."

Strong hands clenched at the name of his enemy.

"Thanks."

Miguel had to take a moment to breathe in and take his surroundings.

Everything he remembered from his childhood, gone. His heart felt mike coming home to a stranger's home. Foraying in someone else's territory.

A someone that obliterated every single bit of his childhood, every piece of memory he created with Gabriel, forever gone and buried.

Replaced with over the top decors, a fake sense of coziness, hidden lies embedded in the sunset like sturdy walls, and people he once strived to be like. All now trespassers and inconnus.

Conchata always fed his brain into believing greater things, alway encouraged him to keep the hatred alive.

Would she be proud to see how far on his plan had he gotten? Probably. Even if she was busy with her new boyfriend that provided everything.

Some women shushed and spilled their gasp as he passed, leaving his presence alone to do the talk for him regarding the effect he had on women.

But this land, his once forgotten and forlorn home, would be his again.

With steadfast steps, he ventured in the enemy's territory, passing rooms and people that unavoidably watched him with brief curiosity.

But all those hubristic thoughts sapped away as soon as his eyes came in contact with the door.

A thrilled and anxious chill ran down his spine upon hearing the terse voice of his sworn foe, giving orders to someone in particular. Miguel's throat felt arid.

His heart thumped a miles per second, his breath paced into a more agitated pace and his eyes kept blinking, readying themselves to face his nemesis.

"Come in."

He obeyed and his nose flared, releasing a shaky exhale when seeing William. Same weather and cold face, the only difference was him looking a bit more rugged and his white hairs even more prominent.

It was as if time had barely passed over him.

It took every single cell and fibre of his body to control the urge to punch him in the face. But the satisfaction of having the reversed roles for a moment brought satisfaction like no other.

This time William had to crane up his head to see him, and a chill ran down his spine when meeting Miguel's red-ish brown eyes. Piercing and judging with all the intention of doing so, as if the very man before him knew his deepest secrets.

The door shut with a quiet click and Miguel stepped closer.

"Mr. O'Hara." William stood to meet him with a brief and firm handshake.

"Sir."

William nodded with a brief smile and gestured for him to sit before him.

"Must say what people say about you, do you justice."

"Good things I hope."

"Now. The property you'll be in charge is  in a bit of a mishap, I've barely had the time to fix it-"

"S'alright. It's part of the barn you said?"

"Indeed. Your functions are detailed in the contract, payment is every fortnight, unless you'd like to choose another type of payment time."

"Fortnight is alright."

William pushed the contract to Miguel, and this wasted no time in reading it and taking a picture of each page.

"Any doubts you, can call me and I'll get back to you as soon as possible."

Miguel signed and pushed the paper back to him. William put it on a folder and then put it on a file. He turned off his computer, and lead the way towards the stables.

"I've tried everything, and nothing works. People have told me to sacrifice the horse, but I can't do that."

Miguel wandered after William through the never ending halls of the estate, there was nothing left of his home. Not even the built in stone oven, where he'd watch Conchata prepare dinner and he'd help out with the tortillas.

Now full of modern equipment and full of people cooking different things he couldn't name.

Miguel had to admit that the stables were his favorite part from the whole dollhouse. William knew no concept of budget. But that was alright, cause every horse in it was worth every single penny and had turned it into a lovely stable aisle.

Each horse had its own fortified enclosure, well kept and clean. There were no bad odors, dirt, mud. None of that. Matter of fact, his eyes blinked when seeing some horses having a swim in a giant custom made pool.

Everything in Cherryville oozed with power and money.

Having revenge and interacting with horses he only dreamed of while getting paid, felt the ultimate fantasy came true.

The angry neigh of a horse snapped him out of his thoughts. The black Friesian stallion kicked and nipped another brown horse nearby. The caretakers immediately separated them both.

William sighed deeply and defeated. And Miguel approached to inspect the brown mustang horse.

"That's Joaquín. The black one is Agustín."

Miguel quirked his brow at the name choices but was glad to have something he was familiar with.

Miguel chuckled and nodded

"Do you know spanish, Mr. Anderton?"

"The amount enough to understand when my wife is angry."

"I see."

As much as he wanted to let out an array of insults here and there to test his words, he'd keep his sharp tongue for himself.

"You can start tomorrow, I'll let you get installed. The barn is in good conditions to suit your needs. If anything is missing, ask any of the helpers around."

With a final and firm handshake, William left.

Miguel gave himself a tour. He wanted to familiarize with the property as much as he could. He didn't like to rely on others for the simplest of task.

Even his way to the barn had been paved and well lighted. No longer being the muddy a d dark road he loved to splash his feet in, even if that meant to have his ear pulled by Conchata later.

The barn, like the rest, took his breath away. It looked like a house for himself.

He wasted no time into admiring the work, and effort put into it. The tack room was sure a thing, but his bedroom and office were even better conditioned. It was a place worth of his skills and knowledge.

Miguel begun unpacking and installing himself. From his window he could see yet another extension of property, Bodegas and the staff living quarters he supposed.

One thing he had forgotten about the place were the torrential rains that always seeped in. Sometimes the blackouts were so common he'd rather be candle lit.

And another entrance to the whole facility adjacent a couple of blocks from his barn.

---

He had finished his shower after spending his evening trying to get acquainted with Agustín and the rest of his crew. Overall and so far it seemed the perfect place to work, but also a challenge.

Thunders roared outside and rain kept flogging every surface it could, permeating to the core. He was ready to make his bed and call Gabriel when the lights were out.

A loud whir echoed through, before the lights returned, the generator wasted to time into working.

What alerted him was the main entrance opening and closing shut.

Had a worker slipped in?

Another blackout happened as he approached to the door only to find a soaked and gorgeous woman shivering on the entrance.

"Ma'am?"

----

Your friends had promised to be a casual party among the singletons in town, nothing more, nothing less. But time and drinks kept going, like the fun.

Until you had enough. As an Anderton you had a reputation to keep, but you were glad your friends made you feel a normal woman, free of keen and expecting eyes and societal etiquettes.

Free of the overbearing role model you had to be for being the Pastor's daughter.

But right now all you cared for was to get inside the barn to give your body a rest from the cold.

The once lovely dress you wore was now hugging you with a vice like grip, suffocating your curves like a second skin. The red and short cardigan around your shoulders did little to nothing to protect you from the unforgiving rain. Hair stuck to your shivering face, teeth clattered as you looked through the window. The rain had no intention to stop.

Your hands removed the cardigan, then tossed the clothing piece to the floor, as you rubbed some heat back.

"Ma'am?"

The rich and deep voice got you jumping in your spot.

"Oh, my god... I'm-" You swallowed when seeing the handsome man before you, dressed up in nothing but his grey sweatpants and some slippers. A towel hung loosely on one of his shoulders.

His brow quirked as his face remained serene.

"I-I'm sorry didn't know the barn was occupied."

You kept rubbing your arms, hoping for the rain to drop. A loud thunder made you recoil from the door, while the drip drops scurrying off your body rolled down to the floor, joining into a puddle beneath your red heeled sandals.

If it wasn't for your hair sticking on your cheeks, the man would definitely see the profuse blush emerging on them. Shirtless men weren't in your everyday occurrence, much less handsome and tall men with beautiful eyes that seized your soul.

A smirk came on Miguel's face, as he retrieved another towel from the bathroom and he approached.

"I got installed today, it's ok."

He gave you the towel, and you took with a grateful smile. Immediately pat drying your face, neck and arms.

He watched you with sharp eyes, following your hand's movement as he slicked back his hair.

You were gorgeous. And drenched to the bones. That little dress did little to keep his eyes wandering to your thighs, marveling at the soft and plumpness of them. He had to look away as soon as his eyes stopped on your chest. The outline of your nipples poking out the dress, gave him enough distraction for a moment.

You didn't look past twenties.

"Uhm..." Your sweet and stammering voice made him curious.

Such a polite girl.

"Yes?"

"Can I use the barn's phone, please?"

He shook his head softly and opened his office. Letting the door open for you to enter.

"Of course."

"Sorry for the floor."

Your arms crossed on your chest, giving him a glimpse of your cleavage. Then fetched the phone, the number however made him frown as it was William's personal contact number.

"Hello? Papa? Can you send someone to the barn with an umbrella, please?"

Papa

Miguel blinked as he stared your way from the door frame. This was even better than he anticipated.

He was so deep in his scheming that forgot William's family. So far he knew, the Anderton man had only one child. And he was now looking at said person.

He could see some bits of William in you, specially in your nose and cheekbones. The rest was your mother's doing.

And what a good job they've made.

"I know, I'm sorry. Got too caught up in the party."

Miguel luck couldn't truly get any better. He could even taste his revenge through his mouth. It was sweet as your perfume.

"Thanks. Love you!"

You hung up the call and smiled his way.

"Thank you. Mr...?"

"O'Hara. Miguel O'Hara."

You gave him your name with a sweet smile as he shook your hand amiably.

"Right. So you're the new trainer?"

His lax frame slanted against the doorframe, blocking your way from the entrance with his form. His eyes fixed you with an enigmatic smirk.

Your nervousness was making your mind a jumbled mess by simply being around him. Half-naked men and men were off the list. Mainly because your parents' strict beliefs. And the man that would get you, would be your future husband. Without discussion.

"I am. Yes. Quite impressive the settlement you've got."

"Ah, well. Dad takes seriously his businesses, and he needs all the help he can get. So thank you for coming."

"My pleasure to help, señorita."

His lip curled, almost imperceptible upon your flustered reaction. Your skin remained with goosebumps.

"Come. Let's get you warmed up."

You followed him to the fireplace and soon he got another towel since the one you had was soaked through.

You sat in front of the fireplace and he draped your shoulders with the dry and cozy towel to then sit across you.

"Thanks" You gulped and extended your hands towards the fire, gaining a much needed wave of heat.

He couldn't wait for you to leave and call Gabriel to tell him everything he had seen so far. Everything was beyond perfect, like if the universe itself had delivered his revenge on a silver platter.

A couple of minutes passed before a familiar voice to you echoed from outside the barn.

"Mi niña! Let's go!"

The ever familiar voice of your nana called, and you stood.

"Thanks for the help, Miguel."

"Anytime, señorita."

He nodded with a softened smile, that didn't reach his eyes and watched you leave.

"See you soon!" You waved and headed back to the main doors. Your heels clicking on the floor.

"Vicky!" you squeezed under the umbrella after your nana secured the towel.

You wanted to give Miguel a last thanking but the latter had already closed the door. You left to the manor.

Miguel rushed to fetch his phone and immediately called Gabriel. He picked up after the third ringing.

Miguel talked and rambled about everything he had seen, and Gabriel could only listen. Expectant.

"Lemme get some months in and then you can come. That way we gather more evidence."

"What about that woman? Anderton's daughter."

He sighed with a dreamy heave.

"She looks the type that's perfect for luring."

"Use her to your advantage. Hit em right where it hurts."

"I'll do it. Don't worry. She's too kind and sweet. Won't see it coming."

With this new piece of information, Miguel could do so many things. But his goal was clear.

He'd hit William right where he dared hit Conchata a long time ago.

He'd go after you. And if that meant to act like he adored you, then so be it.

His revenge was finally in motion.

----

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[netherfeildren]

Notes On a Virtuous Affair

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader

Summary: One would think this road ends in something virtuous—a greenness so dazzling it hurt the eyes—and not the sort of man waiting in his far out removed solitude.

He was the experienced one, you the innocent. It should have been different. Maybe it should’ve felt different. And yet, there was something in him that made you feel very much the conquering one, you the baptizing one.

Rating: Explicit 18+

Content Warnings: Post outbreak; Jackson Joel Miller; Dom/sub undertones; Rough Sex; Impact Play; Face Slapping; Spanking; PIV sex; Ass Play; Oral Sex (m!receiving); Come Eating; Throat Fucking; Unprotected Sex; Potentially Toxic Dynamics? (haha?); Complicated Feelings; They Love Each Other in Their Own Weird Way, Ok?; Older Man/Younger Woman; Idk What This Is, I Don't Expect You to Either;

A/N: miss you guys, sorry for the disappearing act <3

Word Count: 3.1K

Read on AO3

Notes On a Virtuous Affair

Sunlight spills over everything, and the pastoral green leads you to him. 

One would think this road ends in something virtuous—a greenness so dazzling it hurt the eyes—and not the sort of man waiting in his far out removed solitude. 

But there’s an incongruity afoot here that only you appreciate.

The secret lies in that there’s a riddle woven through the three miles you pilgrim to see him weekly. The first, a boon, the green lush wasteland, if a thing that’s alive can be wasted. The second, an honesty, I’ll venture this distance for him. The third, a precursor, when your muscles start to tingle, your thighs, hot and itchy, nape, coated in a taste of salt. Your feet crunch along the gravel and dirt, protected by the soft leathered boots inherited from Lucy who’d died last Monday. A good start to the week, with new boots, and a thoughtful gift she’d left you, your friend, when your own shoes were so worn from all the walking you do for him. The end of the world changes death, finds good things within it. 

The sun warms the bridge of your nose, and you tip your face up to the too-bright light, trying your hardest to look straight at the intensity of it. He’s very much like this too. Why would you look directly at the sun if not for the hurting it brings? Your palms splayed forward at your sides, the breeze moving through your fingers, and the world is all around you alive in this apocalypse. 

Jackson is left further and further behind as you move towards him, and what no one understands, not even Joel Miller himself, is that there is something virtuous about this affair.

-

“I’m gonna fuck your mouth now,” he says down at you, bare as the day you were born and kneeling before his clothed and towering height. Nothing but the heavy hanging length of his cock is naked for you, the first you’d ever seen in your whole life. If he had his way, the only one you’d ever see for the rest of it. The wide head is slick and glossy, the way it bobs obscenely from his open jeans looking like the weight of it would hurt, the way it juts from the bed of hair at this groin like a threat to you. 

You know now, after all his focused training, that it only hurts him when you don’t tend to it as he needs, that it’s only a threat when you fail to do the same. He’s shown you the rules of hurting, in all these months you’ve come your three promised miles to him time after time. Shown you how it comes easy, that of hurting someone you love. A running in place sort of thing. You know all the steps that will come, the exact spot you’ll tread in. The way to propel yourself forward to finally leave that same place, avoid it, if you want. 

“Open wider. Won’t fit like that,” he clicks his tongue, voice a burr as he grips his throbbing flesh and with the other too big hand, also like a seeming threat, but not, he gives you a quick, softly stinging slap to the high of your cheekbone. The sound, fast and snapping like his disapproving tongue. You swallow a moan, looking up at him with that look in your eyes you know disturbs him, adoration, letting the hinges of your jaw go loose, saliva pooling beneath the cover of your tongue. “Don’t you want me?” He asks. 

And you blink once, moan crossing the bridge to a laugh if your mouth wasn’t stretched wide as it’ll go. He sees it though, skipping water in your eyes and gives that half smile, the mean one, the one that says he has all the answers in the world, knows all the things there are to know, that one you like best. Good girl, and his voice makes no sound, only the shape of the words on his mouth. You haven’t been good enough yet to hear the real thing of them out loud. This tells you that you must apply yourself to the task at hand, making him come. 

One heavy tap to the flat of your tongue sticking out for him first, and then he’s slicking that fat head against the surface, giving you the first real taste, salt and musk trickle down the back of your throat and you moan again, eyes screwing shut tight, cunt aching something fierce. Leaking just like the tip of his cock leaks too. 

That’s the thing about this thing, the one you see very well and Joel still fails to. The two of you, as disparate as you might seem, are the same in all the basic but most important ways. Too much in common for him to look at in the eye comfortably and still do the things you do. 

“Open your throat. Get me hard.” In your head, he calls you baby. In reality, only sometimes, when you’re extra good, does that happen. But in your imagination, where it matters more, he doesn't ask nice, but you are his baby. 

He slides back, back, hits the end of your throat, pulls out against the wet heat of your tongue. You keep your jaw wide until you feel him harden entirely, until he stretches his neck back, tendons jumping stark, clench of his jaw fluttering with a choked groan. “Suck me,” your permission to savor him like you need to. 

Hands pressed firmly to your bare knees, not digging at your soft wet like you’d like, or pawing at him as you’d like even more, you close your lips around him, cheeks hollowed and suck hard, tonguing at his slit on the pull back so that he’s bearing his teeth at you in a growl and shoving forward again hard, a snarl as the cinch of your tight throat strangles the head of his cock on every one of your swallows. Your eyes water, but he pets softly at the same spot he’d stung earlier with his slap. 

A game you used to play with your siblings, who could slap one another harder until the other gave out. It’d taken a while for you to come to the realization, but eventually, you’d realized the memory of it in your mind as it exists now wasn’t innocent the way it should’ve been. That there had been something you’d liked about it in a strange way—that hurting. That the first time you’d asked Joel to play the same game with you, you’d wanted him to slap you other places just as hard until you gave out also. 

The games were part of the thing. His own strange rules, like the way you couldn’t touch him sometimes—you dig your bitten down nails into the soft skin of your inner thighs—only when he said it was okay was it allowed. The way you were never allowed to touch your cunt unless he said so also. He had weird things about him, turned strange by the dangerous ways of life. Like the solitude, the house out and away, the begging you had to do for him to have you. 

Sameness. 

He wraps his fist in your hair, more sting, “Gonna fill your belly with my come, yeah?” His thrusts pick up pace, pulling your head back as far as your neck allows so that he can fuck your throat in full, jaw hanging wide, and you’re just the wet and willing hole you know he sometimes wishes you could always stay as. 

The thick cock against your tongue throbs once, twice and then he’s spilling hot and heavy down your open throat, sweet salt against the back of your tongue while you try and breathe through his strangling, tears spilling.

When he pulls back, slipping wet and heavy from your mouth you fall forward onto your palms, breathing fast, almost hyperventilating, stinging with the forced will to remain obedient. Your spine burns beneath your skin and your sore jaw hangs unwillingly open, sloppy mouth dripping a string of semen between your splayed palms. 

He crouches before you, dripping cock like your mouth, milked to heavy softness hangs long and sated between his thighs. And he pets your crown, the vulnerable shell of your ear, whole body on fire so that every inch of skin hurts without his touch, hurts worse with it. 

“Good girl,” he says now with voice. 

-

The walk seems longer some days. A thousand miles plus an eon instead of merely three. Especially on the days you’re more desperate than usual. The ones when your stomach feels full of sugar for him and the memory taste of his cock is already aching in your molars. Those days your steps are hurried, look in your eyes frenzied to get to him, to escape the things you leave behind. A too full house, your sister’s squalling, teething baby, your little brothers, and too many mouths to feed and not attention to be had, not enough mother for everyone to get loved. 

There’s reasons for this game between the two of you, you’d had to come out and find your attention somewhere else. 

Your love too. 

And if it comes with a sting sometimes, well, so had your mother’s. You like it like this now. 

The first time he’d touched your cunt: show me that pretty pussy, baby, and he’d had you from that very first sweet word, you gonna let me finger it? You’d spread wide, leaked into the cup of his palm like a whore, you’d needed to make sure he was for keeping from the first try, you see. So you’d done all he’d said, taken four fingers and only cried a little bit but whined a lot. Been all, hurts, Joel, high pitched and dragging his name out on a puppy whimper. 

He’d given you that first lesson in hurt the very first time: Yeah? Supposed to. A real mean man. And then made you gush into that very cupped palm so that he could drink of your sweetness. 

He was the experienced one, you the innocent. It should have been different. Maybe it should’ve felt different. And yet, there was something in him that made you feel very much the conquering one, you the baptizing one. 

The third mile comes to an end, the precursor, over, his house in view. It’s all quiet and slumbering and the long grass pulls you forward with its wind blown sway. The wide door to his shed is propped open, half finished rocking chair up on the workbench that sways with the intruding gust. The grass whispers behind you, the dark woods across the field moan, and he’s nowhere while the Tetons loom in the distance. 

You drag your fingers along the slats of his house as you pass, everything is so quiet, like he’d never been here. Like he’d gone and left you the way he’s promised he’d never do. Your belly feels bloated with heat, heart turned into four incongruous chambers that no longer beat in tune, memories of him rioting between each thump. Your cunt goes soft and drooling in your panties as your fear beats higher and higher, and you come to the mouth of the shed, peering into the cool darkness of this little place where he makes his beautiful things. The things that go into people’s homes to be used by people’s families to be stored in people’s memories.

The gleam of the sun does not cross the threshold, and you brace your palms on either side of the wide door, the air thrums and he’s not here—yet—you slide the toe of Lucy’s old boot across the border of sunlight into sanctuary and peek your closed-eyed face into the shade right before you’re taken bodily to the ground by his heavy weight. Palms catching splinters, his strong chest heaves into the line of your spine, strong arm at your waist to pull your breath from your lungs and your legs from under you. 

He forces you belly first to the ground, other hand circling your throat in the imitation of a strangle lest you lose yourself and decide to struggle for the first time ever. But you dig your fingernails into the dirt, scratching for purchase in preparation of what’s about to come, all the fight going out of you; body, half in shadow, half in sunlight. Your bones feel salt bleached. An over abundance of sodium in the blood that renders you catatonic for him.

He nuzzles soft at your nape while his hand shoves under your dress, ripping your underwear down your legs so that the elastic cuts into your tender skin to hurt. All incongruous movement, this man is. 

“Didn’t your daddy ever tell you not to go creepin’ ‘round strange men’s homes?” His voice is so deep, drawled, broken up into different notes of lust and anger and temerity. All the strange things that make Joel Miller up. 

Yeah, you sigh into the dirt. “Told me exactly how it’d go for me if I did.”

You hitch your rump up then, presenting your cunt for fucking. The breeze doesn’t do half to soothe the throbbing wet. The sort of ache that’ll only be fixed by something heavy inside the hurting place. The sound of his belt quiets the disparate chambers, the beat in your ears of rushing blood is uniform now, there’ll be a wet spot in the shape of you in the dirt when he’s through. You lift your hips higher, knees scraped rough as you spread wider, face pressed to the ground and your fingers are well and burrowed in their little gouges now. 

He smacks the heft of it against you asshole, spits and presses a little. He likes to scare you sometimes. Nooo, Joel, all whining stutter, but with your back arching deeper like a little babied liar; you don’t mind where he puts it, only that he puts it somewhere.

“Hush,” he soothes all nice, spanks your ass once all not— “Gonna teach you a lesson.” And shoves inside, bumping against your womb on the first try, stretching your hole too wide, too quick. And there’s no prep, no qualm. No need to hesitate when you own a thing. You swallow your animal cry, ah ah ah, you want to hear how good you’ve been out loud. He grips your hips tight enough to bruise which is what you know he wants and fucks hard and fast, each swing whistles with ownership. 

He fucks you in the dirt like an animal, and this affair is virtuous. 

He teaches you the truth about hurting, about ownership, about so many things that only a man like Joel Miller could teach a girl like you. And all the while he tells you that you’re too pretty to take such an ugly fucking. 

The way he works your cunt, hungry, balls swinging wet so that they sting like his slaps, tip battering hard so that it aches like gratitude. 

These are the things three miles give you. A whole man to teach you about the whole world. 

The slick squelch of your overwhelmed cunt sounds loud, no more disparate heartbeat, no more green grassed whispers. Only the sound of his grunting above you like an animal remains. “You’re the perfect little cunt. You know that, baby?” There it is, you sigh. Start to tremble around him like that, like his good baby that you are, desperate flutters, little gash being fucked into obedience like you need. Your overwhelmed pants make little dirt dream clouds before your eyes as you start to come for him, crying his name, crying your love, crying that you’re so, so thankful. 

“Don’t stop, Joel. Not yet.” And he loves it when you beg, loves it when your cunt pulls tight like a knot.  

“Not yet,” he promises because he might be a real mean man, but he loves you like separating salt from blood.

Complicated and precise. 

When he’s through with you, there’s sunlight spilling over everything again. It’s journey goes on and on, and his semen drips from your cunt now. He turns gentle, thrusting still, making sure it’s fucked deep, pulsing in time with your own throb. Rhythms merge between the two of you. 

His rules are strange, his claims over you equally mysterious. He won’t say things out loud, won’t let you touch any real part of him, but his strange truths ring loud anyways, and when your heart isn’t disjointed, you hear him perfectly well. 

When he lays you out bare and trembling across his messy bed, the groaned pains of his age and rutting in the dirt like an animal sound from him as he drapes himself alongside you. Large and hairy, feet hanging off the end of the bed, entirely real with one knee propped up so that his thick cock lays heavy and soft over the swell of his belly. Your heart beats soft and overfull now. 

You watch the sun set across the planes of his chest and bask in the blue dark as the night draws breath around you. The work of meting out obedience to little girls who come searching for it is toiling, and you watch him melt into sleep, but right before he’s just gone away from you, with a single finger petting at the jut of the old broken bone in his shoulder, your whispered plea: Will you give me a falseness? You don’t call it a lie. This is a virtuous thing, after all.

Lies aren’t allowed in this house. 

He breathes a deep sigh, and you watch the fan of his long lashes sweep open, staring up at the shadowed rafters of his home. You swear you can see each and every individual whisker in his thick beard, dark and gray dispersed throughout. You see every single detail. 

He’d told you once there were ghosts here, in this house, and you’d learned later it wasn’t a lie. This became more and more obvious the more you got to know him. 

He stares up at them now. 

When he’d taken your virginity, when it’d left you the way you’d always imagined it would, covered in tears and blood and semen, you’d made that promise to each other. That you wouldn't lie, that he’d have all of you, that you’d not touch all of him. The ghost lay beside you in the damp bed of your lost innocence that day. It’d been just so ever since and over many miles of three you’d come to appreciate the realities of it. Who could be more connected than two people who always tell each other their truths exactly as they are?

“Give me a falseness,” you say again, not a lie. 

“A good kind of a bad kind?”

You flip a mind’s coin, wish you could see the exact ghosts he sees— “Bad.”

He turns to look at you, this half smile he wears is your second favorite one now, the honest one, and it’s all there for you to see. All the disparate chambers of Joel, just like your heart beating in your ears. You suppose the ghosts don’t matter then. 

“I don’t love you.”

And you nod solemn. Bad, like a whisper, like your game. 

You smile back, the one you know he likes best, the one that looks like his.

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[ecstarry]

@jegulus-microfic / football / 768 words / @bellaxisworld i love you

--- here's a little kiss cam brainrot <3

"But I hate football, you know this," Regulus reiterated to a very persistent Remus over the phone.

“I know, but Sirius can’t make it and he doesn’t want the tickets to go to waste. It’s just one game,” Remus remarked with a hint of something that Regulus couldn’t quite place. 

That’s how he ended up at a Saturday sports match, hoping the players were hot; at least he would be entertained that way. He approached his seats and yelled Remus’ name, but someone else turned around: James.

“Reg? Why are you here? I thought I was meeting Siriu-” Regulus interrupted him, only a Potter could manage to insult him as he was greeting him.

“Nice to see you too James, well I thought I was meeting Remus. So you were also not who I expected to see.”

Before James could give a proper response, they both got a notification on their phone. Regulus looked at his screen to read Remus' quick text: Sorry, can’t make it. Have fun.

“I’m going to kill him,” Regulus mumbled. 

“Sirius just canceled on me. I’m guessing you got stood up too?” James asked kindly, but only received a mean glance in response.

In silence, they took their seats. Regulus was beyond pissed. How could Remus do this to him? He thought for a second that they might’ve been set up, but he thought this ruse was a bit dramatic even for Sirius’ standards.

“Do you like football?” James asked, breaking the silence.

“Detest it,” Regulus replied tersely, still too upset to entertain James’ attempt at conversation. When his brother’s best friend asked if he wanted anything to drink, he simply declined in a polite and quick manner.

But when James returned with his favorite treats and a wide smile to his seat, he couldn’t remember what he was upset about. Regulus felt a discreet blush work its way towards his cheeks as James handed him his favorite candy.

“Sirius mentioned you liked this, so I figured that if you were stuck with me and in a place you don’t want to be, you might as well get a sweet treat, no?” James said casually, as if remembering someone’s favorite candy was nothing.

To Regulus, it was such a significant gesture, but he couldn’t help but feel a little pathetic by how such a simple token could make him feel so warm. If he was honest, maybe it had more to do with who was giving him that attention than the piece of candy itself, but that was not the time to process that.

The game continued, and to Regulus's surprise, he found himself having more fun than he had expected. While Remus would have been good company, James was captivating in his own way. Despite not being a fan of football, Regulus made an effort to stay informed about the current games. A fact that he deliberately kept from James as the other man’s eyes lit up explaining everything. He never expected to be so absorbed in James’ words or thoughts or lips or eyes or arms or smile...

 Oh god, when did James Potter become so attractive?

“Regulus?” His name coming out James’ lips took him out his trace.

“Yes?”

"Kiss cam," James said, pointing at the screen in front of them. There they were, the two of them, with a crowd surrounding them, chanting for them to just kiss. Regulus felt as if seconds extended into hours as James's hand gently cupped his chin, his eyes silently asking for permission. An inaudible yes left Regulus's lips as the distance between them evaporated.

His hand instinctively reached for James' shirt, pulling him closer as if their lips touching was still too far a distance to bridge. He allowed himself this moment, the touch of an angel on a broken man. Every crevice of doubt within him was filled with warmth as James kept asking for more with his tongue. James parted slightly, and the absence of his lips made Regulus remember himself. Embarrassed, he started to pull away, but James held him tightly, his hands not leaving Regulus' face.

Regulus bravely opened his eyes to face the regret that was sure to be all over James’ face, but instead he found something else— something sweet and soft, something only honey eyes like James’ could convey. He was still light-headed from James’ touch, he couldn’t make sense of just how long he had been given access to heaven. 

But the reality remained: he had just kissed James Potter, who seemed just as delighted to have kissed Regulus Black.

Maybe football wasn’t that bad.

more microfics here

[jackiepackiee]

I have a request! Can we have atsushi, dazai, ranpo, chuuya (+yasano, if desired you can cut out some characters) with a fem!ballerina s/o

ex: does big roles, (giselle, black swan, clara) and their opinions about her profession. ty!

𝐵𝒮𝒟 𝓍 𝐵𝒶𝓁𝓁𝑒𝓇𝒾𝓃𝒶! 𝑅𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇

𝒲/ 𝒜𝓉𝓈𝓊𝓈𝒽𝒾, 𝒟𝒶𝓏𝒶𝒾, 𝑅𝒶𝓃𝓅𝑜, 𝒞𝒽𝓊𝓊𝓎𝒶, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒴𝑜𝓈𝒶𝓃𝑜

𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 - 𝒩𝒶𝓊𝓇

𝒯𝓎𝓅𝑒 - 𝒽𝑒𝒶𝒹𝒸𝒶𝓃𝑜𝓃𝓈

Atsushi Nakajima

Whipped

You’re dating for a bit, and he’s seen your practice

But when you invite him to the stage door for a quick good luck kiss before his first show, he’s in AWE

Your costume?! He almost dies

You’re perfect!

(His fav is Sleeping beauty when you’re Aurora)

So when he finally sees you on stage, music and lights and dance

He almost passes out

If it wasn’t for the fact he had to watch you, he would’ve gotten some air

He’s just so in love

He loves to come to rehearsal

So well behaved, completely silent

Just watching you the entire time, in amazement

He doesn’t have money to offer for costumes or lessons, but he will be the biggest supporter in your life

He is however confused by everything

He isn’t very artisticlly intellectual…

And when you first break in your shoes, he screams

He thought you were wasting money and destroying them… if only he knew

He’ll give you massaged each night after shows, especially if you also had a matinee

Dazai Osamu

He is no longer as serious, but he will become the most reserved and mature gentleman you know when he sees your shows

People will think he’s a regular at these events, and everything will look at him with awe

And his attention will only be on you

Obviously he’s going to look at the other performers, but his eyes are glued on you

Secretly bored when you’re not on stage

He’ll see you, but after that he is childish again

Picking you up into his arms, probably coughing from the smell of hairspray in your hair

“Gosh, I can’t breathe! Your hair is perfect, but this is too much.”

And if the ADA happens to be there too? Don’t be surprised

He is always talking about you when work is boring

Atsushi thinks it’s the coolest, and is looking at your like you’re a goddess

(He’s like your son, and he looks up to you. Dazai loves that)

Back to ballet, he will kiss your cheek

But nothing else, he hates to ruin your makeup

And when you come home after?

He holds you all night after a show

He’s a master at anatomy and will massage you your body in every place needed

Before show texts “break a leg, but not actually! Cant wait!”

Overall? A fan, but more of a lover

Ranpo Edogawa

Most people think Ranpo has no attention span, and they’re mostly right…

But! He is fully able to focus on your performance

Loves your darker roles

But that’s mostly because he thinks that darker characters have more depth

This man is a thinker, and while he loves your dancing he prefers the story

And adores the way you are able to tell a story or send a message by your body movement

He loves more feminine roles too, but he appreciates your beauty more than he can focus

That’s the only reason he can stand the shows

Because he can obviously tell the entire story before the first dance sequence is over

You shine on that stage, and he’s infatuated

His eyes are OPEN

After your show, he’ll smile like a little kid

That maturity he had at the show? Gone, he’s himself again

Loves the shows about mysteries

This guy will ask Poe to write a show, and have him hire a choreographer to make a new shoe just for you to star in and for him to enjoy the story

His childish behavior is love, and intense affection because he’s so happy with how well you did

He praises you, so take it

He doesn’t do that for anyone else

Chuuya Nakahara

Classier than ever

Goes to each show with a box seat, sitting alone or with Koyo

Everyone thinks “oh, that guy is so mysterious”

Thinks you’re literally a light in his life

A bright beauty in his dark world

And when you walk onto that stage, he is focused on you like a hawk

Not scary, but such attention to detail that his stare is unbreaking

Not looking at a single other performer, unlessss they are your friend and you tell him about them when you’re rambling about your rehearsals

He’ll give them a glance, but only because he wants to be ready for every single topic of conversation you may wish to have

And when you’re done? He tells you to come out to see him in your costume, even if your director doesn’t allow that

He’s Chuuya Nakahara, he gets what he wants from anyone

He wants to give you a kiss when you look like a doll, dressed up perfectly

He hugs you, and tells you every time

“You were incredible. Go get more comfortable darling, I’ll wait outside the backstage. We will talk in the car. Maybe a little treat is waiting?”

The treat is always exactly what you want

Necklaces? Dress? Tickets to something? It’s there, at the moment you would love it most

Always helps you wash your hair when you get home

Running warm water in his fancy shower, hands making quick work on your hair and all the products that held it together

Will buy one of those high tech foot massagers for when you’re done

He hates how you’re in pain

And will do anything to make you feel better

Because you’re perfect, and he loves you

Yosano Akiko

Brags to each and EVERY member of the agency

Makes all of them attended at least one show

(Her favorite is black swan, you’re just sexy in that one 🤷🏻‍♀️)

If you could see her from on stage while you’re preforming (obviously you can’t) you’d see her paying more attention to you than she has to anything in her entire life

You’re the dainty and sweet girlfriend, and she’s your badass man-killer woman

She is incredible at anatomy, and gives you the best tips on warming up

Best ways to strengthen and grow your muscles without getting larger

Ugh, she’ll put her hands on your waist while teaching you how to twist and turn to stretch a certain way

You know how she loves shopping?

She will make at least one date a month a shopping date

Making sure to buy the most high tech and recommend leotards for practice

New shoes that need breaking in?

She owns at least 14 hammers

Nails? Gone. Foot board? Snapped into shape.

Thinks you’re PERFECT but is the best shot talker of the others?

The girl who thinks she deserved the lead, but didn’t get it so she hates on you?

Yeah, a glass of wine and Akiko will tear that girl to shreds with insults

But she’s supportive!!

Pretty girlfriend x sexy girlfriend life

[frvnkcastles]

Hii I love your work so much!! I was wondering if you would do Frank Castle x reader based off of Sunlight or Francesca By Hozier? I don’t know I just feel like with how deeply this man feels that one or those would be perfect for Frank and the reader.

I WOULD DO IT AGAIN ➵ F. CASTLE

Summary: A glimpse into the way Frank feels for you.

Warnings: Fem!reader, violence, reader has unspecified mental health issues

Word count: 1.2k

Author’s note: I fell in love with both these songs thanks to this request!! I tried to combine both of them, though I suppose I got more out of Francesca. I’m a little on the fence about this one shot in general, but I hope you like it! Thanks for your patience <3 Also, I keep forgetting to say this, but thank you so much for 700 followers!!! It means so much to me that we’ve created this little community of traumatized Frank lovers :)

There was nothing Frank wouldn’t have done for you. He had known that quite early into your relationship, his devotion for you growing more and more every day, even if you weren’t officially dating. In fact, your feelings for each other had gone unspoken ever since you had met, but he couldn’t deny they were there — he cared for you so much it terrified him, it kept him up at night.

He thought about the first time he met you often. He’d never forget the way you looked in that dress you had dug out of your closet just for the occasion, how the warm bar light illuminated your starry eyes and how you had been nervously gnawing on your lip while glancing at your phone for the millionth time.

”Whoever’s standin’ you up would regret if they saw you in that dress”, he had spoken up from across the mostly empty bar counter, and you had immediately looked up only to find a man so attractive your stomach did a somersault. Rough around the edges but undeniably easy on the eyes, even more so when the corner of his mouth had twitched upwards in a sneaky smirk, even when his stare was focused on the crowd behind you. You had shuffled on your feet, looking around to see who he was referring to, but when you had turned back to him, you found him gazing right at you, making your mouth run dry.

”I was supposed to have a date”, you had explained over the music, ”guess it was a waste of a pretty dress.”

He had chuckled at that. ”Well, for what it’s worth, you made this old sucker’s heart skip a beat”, he had shrugged before gesturing at the empty seat next to him. ”Buy you a drink?”

And ever since then, he had been hooked on you. You made him feel alive, you gave him a reason to get up in the morning. So when you had told him you felt like you were doing the opposite, his heart had shattered in his chest.

”I realize I have a lot of baggage. So I don’t blame you if you want to, I dunno, check out now”, you had explained meekly, distance between you as you both stood in your kitchen at an ungodly hour, fresh stitches on Frank’s abdomen. ”I guess I’m not a very easy person to be around, is what I’m saying”, you had added with a quiet chuckle, and at that, Frank had closed the space between you, his hand coming to rest on your cheek as he swallowed all the air from your personal space.

”You think I am?” he had stated matter-of-factly. ”You’re wrong, sweetheart. I don’t remember the last time it was this easy for me to be around someone. You make me feel… Yeah, you just make me feel. I can’t get enough of you. Don’t ever think I’d wanna get rid of you, ’cause shit, as long as you’ll have me, I ain’t goin’ anywhere”, he had explained, passion behind every word, and it had made you tear up.

”You know everything that’s wrong with me and you’re saying you still want to be my friend?” you had asked to confirm, and licking his lips, Frank had glanced at yours before nodding. He had forced himself to withdraw, not wanting to cross any lines, but he had given your hand a squeeze, nonetheless.

”Never been more sure of anything.”

He wasn’t letting go of you. As much was confirmed when his enemies caught whiff of you being involved with him — before he knew it, your name fell from the lips of his latest target, and he had seen red. The men were coming from left and right, punching him, stabbing him, each of them claiming their piece of the Punisher, but he wasn’t going to rest until he’d know you were safe. Their taunts of getting to his little girlfriend had pushed him over the edge, and with feral anger, he slaughtered the lot of them, not letting a single henchman slip out and get to you.

He had wanted to avoid you seeing him like this so badly. But as soon as he was done, as soon as the men lay dead at his feet, he was rushing out of the warehouse he had been lured into, just to make his way to you.

The urgent knock on your door in the middle of the night wasn’t a completely unfamiliar sound — you had stitched Frank up more than a few times, but you could tell something was wrong. As soon as you opened the door, a bloodied Frank burst through, his eyes wide and alert, his shaky hands clamoring to find purchase on your shoulders.

”Hey, hey, what is it? Are you okay?” you asked with worry, eyebrows knitted together as you tried to balance Frank’s larger frame, your hands resting on his arms.

”I—I needed to know you were okay”, he managed to get out, breathless and panicking, and nodding to promise him that you were, you attempted to meet his frantic eyes and calm him down.

”I’m okay, Frankie, I’m okay. Breathe, honey”, you reassured, and slumping against your body, Frank pulled you into a vicelike hug, squeezing you tight, breathing you in. Blood stained your clothes and hair, but your priority was getting Frank across the panicked state he was in, to assure him everything was okay.

”They said they were coming for you. I—I couldn’t let them. I wasn’t gonna let them”, he repeated, before grunting, ”I killed ’em all.”

Pulling away slightly, you looked into dark eyes with a disbelieving frown. ”You did that for me?” you whispered, and finding solace in your gaze, Frank found it in himself to catch his breath and understand that the imminent danger was over.

”You’re goddamn right I did. I’d do it again and again. I’d do anything for you”, he swore, letting his forehead fall against yours. You closed your eyes and took his hand, giving it a firm squeeze before pulling him towards the bathroom.

”Let’s get you cleaned up, big guy.”

Even after he had had time to shower, he was still on alert, constantly checking the windows and pacing around your apartment. You had to fight him to the bedroom, insisting that you both needed to get some rest, and he supposed he could do that — watch over you, make sure you’d get to sleep soundly. Soon enough, you were cuddled up in the bed and Frank was sitting next to you, resting against the headboard with his eyes laser-focused on the closed door.

”Hey, you can relax. They’re all gone. No one’s coming for me”, you reminded him softly, caressing his arm with tender fingers, and swallowing, Frank slowly and reluctantly sank deeper into the mattress to be closer to you.

”I ain’t ever lettin’ anythin’ happen to you. You know that, right?” he grunted, and with a nod, you reassured him.

”I know. You always make me feel safe.” His eyes softened at your words, and gently, he reached over to kiss your forehead, his lips lingering for a brief moment.

He really would have done anything for you.

[lobotomyladylives]

pearl is a really interesting case study to me of what low self esteem & self loathing does to a woman. she had literally every opportunity required for a successful life-wealthy parents who could have easily gotten her a 6 figure nepo position right out of college with very minimal effort on her part. and what did she decide to do instead? publicly humiliate herself every day for a (ever dwindling) audience of men who absolutely fucking despise her. it is quite literally the most pathetic thing I've ever seen. zero self respect. all young woman should see her as a warning against prioritizing and pandering to men.

people call her a failed grifter, and she is-but I do think she genuinely buys into the redpill drivel. she was never desperate enough for money that she would have to sell her soul and spout rhetoric she doesn't believe in. she's visibly near tears defending "mens rights" in some videos and unless she's secretly a naturally great actress I don't buy it all being manufactured for money & notoriety (what money lol, & the only notoriety she has is being a laughing stock amongst normal people AND the manosphere. she has literally ruined her reputation worse than any onlyfans girl, at least they hide behind a paywall and a fake name usually). with her view counts she's not making more than she would be at the cozy corporate job she COULD have had if she hadn't burned her bridges with her own mother, who now wants nothing to do with her on a professional level because she's the very "girlboss feminist breadwinner" that pearl claims is causing the downfall of humanity.

and that's not the only possible future she has assassinated for herself. she thinks a woman's role is to be barefoot in the kitchen birthing children & homemaking, but she's ruining her chance of doing that too bc the men she panders to do not want a woman who argues on the internet all day, even if it's in favor of things they approve of like taking away all of women's rights and blaming every problem in society on us. aside from parroting their beliefs she is literally everything they hate-a money & attention hungry, assertive, masculine, physically unattractive (in their eyes, certainly) unmarried woman over 25 with a history of sleeping around (and dating black men, how dare she date outside of her race?!?), who claims she has "high standards" as an excuse for why she isn't already married. they want an attractive, submissive, soft spoken and feminine young woman who is a virgin and has zero standards.

when I first encountered her I was furious, but that's faded. no point wasting anger on someone who has already secured her demise. she's the prime example of what internalized pandering to males at the expense of your self respect and pickmeism gets you as a woman. absolutely fucking nothing beyond a ruined reputation and the scorn of men and women alike. the most ironic part of all is that most of the "evil feminazi" women (usually not even feminists, just normie women who are not literally drowning in internalized misogyny) she debates are so far ahead of her in every possible life metric-they have actual careers, friends, self respect, confidence and usually are in stable relationships with men who wouldn't look twice at a pathetic sadsack like pearl. tragic, but I have no sympathy for her. this is entirely the result of her attempting to humiliate other women and it backfiring spectacularly.

[twinkletfout]

Rude boy — part.4

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

You saw his eyes swell, the red tint came into view as tears started pooling in his eyes. He looked away for a moment to play it off. You wanted to calm him, cheer him up. Be there for him. But you knew it was not your place. But before you could say anything he stood up and made himself out of the bar.

You guessed that the girl didn't see him, too busy with having so much fun with her new man. Despite the pain that slightly eased, you got up and went outside. It looked like he was calming himself down, you were glad that he was actually keeping his cool. Just like the way you are, you really can't hold back your tongue.

“Calm down, big guy. Not a big of a deal, hm? Lets go—”

You should really think before you talk, only if you thought about this before you said it anyway.

“What if it is?” it was a whisper, a mumble before his voice raised, he shouted.

“What if it is!?—” his voice cracked, holding back the tears for a minute before he continued

“She can do whatever the hell she wants? Fuck around with random guys, like its nothing?— I didn't date her for her to do that, and I, I just wanted to win her back I.. I loved her.”

you stood your ground as his voice slightly lowered, if he finally came to realise the fact that she doesn't want him anymore by taking out his anger on you. You didn't mind actually, just the way your heart aches for him right now, something also healed at the same time. And you felt guilty for feeling like this.

He was so wasted, too drunk to speak or talk that now he is spewing some random things as he kept on drinking. You told the bartender to not give him anymore, but when he realised. He gave you one pouty face like he was a goddamn toddler. And oh my god was that cute. You never saw this side of him before, it's like you unlocked something new about him and you loved this side a lot more than his usual self. You smiled to yourself before you said that it was enough and helped him stand up. Putting his hand over your shoulders as you supported his weight so he could walk easier.

Getting in the taxi was such a pain in the ass, as you finally entered the hotel and booked a room for one, the prince was literally dozing off and you had to carry him to his room. Because of this one guy, you lost your entire freaking day. You dropped him on the couch as soon as you entered the room. “God you are too heavy” you mumbled to yourself, but you knew he wasn't listening, it was like he was waiting to lay somewhere to finally sleep. But at least a good night's sleep will get everything off of his mind.

“You better call me the next morning, im leavin’ “ you said as you opened the door. You weren't expecting him to get on his feet or for his hand to wrap around your waist as he closed the door with his other with a sound. “Don't leave” his breath graced your ear as it sent a shiver down your spine. “Stay the night” he said as you turned around to face him. His whiskey eyes are getting you the one drunk now and you couldn't deny it as you looked up at him. “With me”

He leaned in, his lips almost touching yours as he waited for your consent. “We shouldn't—” you whispered. “One kiss won't hurt, hm?” His lips grew into a smirk as he said. “you are drunk, you nee—” you protested trying to push him back. “Please” he practically pleaded with those cerulean eyes, that was too hard for you to resist. And the hand that you used to push him back slightly lost strength and that was the sign he was looking for his lips to meet yours. Pulling your body towards him as your back hits the door that's now closed. One of his hands undid the few buttons of his own shirt before pushing your skirt upwards. He gave random kisses down your neck, your collarbone, your cheek before he started to grow more and more impatient.

“Luna…” he mumbled against your neck, that's what it all took for you to react.

Luna? Who is that?

You brought your hand to push him away as you put your skirt down.”Luna?..” you questioned, more likely to yourself. It didn't take you much time for the picture of his blondie lover to pop in your mind. You felt a strong pang in your chest as you figured things out. “Get some rest rude boy, i should get going now” you opened the door as he suprisingly retrieved you. “Dont call me that” he said before you leave. “Its Gojo.” he told you before turning his back as he flopped onto the couch.

Everything else was a blur, you got on a taxi and went to your own appartment. Maybe it was because your were holding yourself back from overflowing with tears.

A day passed with no contact of Gojo, but he did send the money more than that you said you wanted, you spent most of your time drawing and designing your new dress, it was your dream to make a dress of your own that will satisfy your thoughts about how good it needs to turn out. Even though you never spent much time with him or new him for a long time. Gojo always had to occupy in your mind and you hated him for that.

[666writingcafe]

A Decision

MC

Returning to the manor after spending the day with my parents, I can immediately tell something's not right. There's usually some amount of noise that can be heard from outside, but not this time. Everything's eerily quiet.

I pull out my knife as I slowly walk up to the front door. I'm not about to let someone kill me. Not without putting up a good fight, anyway.

A note is taped to the front door, addressed to me. Glancing around to make sure no one is lurking in the shadows, I carefully take the note off and open it.

Welcome to your preliminary test. There are six stages, and you must pass each one in order to get your next star. Your goal is simple: do not succumb to temptation. On the table right inside the door is a ring that will be used to track your progress. Once you put it on, the first stage of your test will begin. If you do not wish to start this test, please text either Solomon or me, and we will stop things immediately. You will also get the opportunity to end the test after each stage. This is designed to push your limits, so it is completely understandable if you are unable to finish, in which case you will be judged solely on the stages you do complete. Good luck, MC. You're going to need it. -Azzy

Well, at least I don't have to deal with a serial killer.

I stick the note in my pocket and sit down on one of the patio chairs, mulling over my options. If Asmo's involved in this test, then most likely my next star will be the one for chastity. After all, it's the virtue that's opposite to lust. The fact that this has been sprung on me, while annoying, isn't a huge problem. I've done fairly well on pop quizzes before. If this was being administered before Asmo had successfully charmed me, then I'd be more confident in my ability to pass.

But that isn't the case. He's seen my deepest, wildest fantasies, and I have no doubt that he's selected six of them to be used against me. And since they're not limited to just one or two people...

I pull out my D.D.D. and tap on the chat icon. It's one thing to daydream about doing sexy things with these people, but to actually go through with them is something else entirely. I don't know if I'm ready.

But then I remember how dull the last test was. I felt like I was sleepwalking through most of it, because it felt like a huge waste of time. I figured out the "twist" about having to fight Solomon long before it actually happened.

Perhaps not knowing what I'm up against will be better for me in the long run. It'd certainly be more interesting, that's for sure.

Sticking the phone back in my pocket, I take a deep breath before getting up. Worst case scenario, I'm only able to complete the first stage, and that wouldn't be the end of the world.

Stepping inside the manor, I grab the ring off the table before shutting the door behind me.

"Well, here goes nothing," I tell myself, slipping the ring on.

[imagine-a-life-like-this]

Accidentally In Enemies : Part 3 (S.CB)

Word Count : 2.7k

Warnings : swearing, breakup, food, heartache, angst

A/N : Just the epilogue left now! I'm sorry it took so long to get this part out but I ended up hitting major writer's block with this part. Hopefully the epilogue won't take long to get out so I can start posting the next series soon after the poll is finished!

            It felt like the beginning again. The first day that San broke up with her. She woke up the morning after the dinner, everything processed in her brain, and she didn’t want to get up. Wanted to waste away in bed. Re-reading texts between them, wondering when things went wrong. Scrolling through pictures she had yet to delete, wishing for those days to come back. When they looked so happy together, so in love.

            But Changbin refused to let her waste away in bed. Showing up at her house every single day. He didn’t let her sit with her thoughts for too long, always having something to say. Makes sure she takes care of herself. Helping her realize that this wasn’t the end of her love life, just the end of this chapter.

            She had gotten used to having him around. Expecting him to be knocking at the door at the same time each day. She would find herself pulling herself out of bed to get ready for his arrival. Having a shower, getting dressed, doing her makeup. Why am I trying to impress Changbin? She would find herself thinking. But his knock would pull her from her thoughts, and she wouldn’t think about it until the next day. A cycle. A routine. It’s been so long since she had a routine like this.

            A routine that didn’t seem boring. A routine that had her excited for each day. Changbin helped her find excitement and happiness in each day. Just by being around. She went from absolutely hating him to craving his time and attention. Waiting for classes to be over so she could see him again.

            Until it all seemed to crumble around her.

            The day started the same as it always did. With her getting ready, wondering again why she was trying to impress Changbin. And then he knocked on the door, pulling her from her wandering mind. But when she opened the door, her smile fell, and she was met with Choi San. She went to close the door, but he stopped her, slamming his hand on it, and pushing it back open. “I just want to talk.”

            “Everything has been said and done, San. Let’s face it. Our relationship was over long before the breakup. I realized that recently. I’m over it.” She goes to close the door again, but he stopped her again.

            “You said your piece, can I please say mine?” She stood there, staring at him, tracing his features with her eyes. She could see the bags under his eyes, wondering if he was losing sleep over what happened at the dinner weeks ago. But the obviously fresh hickey proved to her that he really didn’t care about her. He’s here for him.

            “Talk.” San is persistent, she knows that. If she doesn’t hear him out now, he’ll come back again. And again. It used to be one of her favourite things about him. He’d go to her after every fight. If she wasn’t ready to talk, he’d sit with her until she was, letting her know he wasn’t going anywhere. But right now? She hates it. Wishes he could let things be said and done, focus on his new relationship, allow her to focus on herself.

            “Can I come in?” She shook her head.

            “You can talk out here.” He nodded, running his fingers through his hair.

            “I didn’t flirt with Gahyeon or anyone else while we were together, I promise you that. We started texting, but nothing romantic until I officially ended things with you.” He paused to assess the look on Y/n’s face. Try to gauge what she’s thinking, but her face was blank. Her eyes held no emotion. All she did was nod, and turn to shut the door again, but he started talking again. “Please say you believe me.”

            “Let’s say that I do. Where does that leave us? We’re still broken up. You still had someone else in line for when we broke up. Nothing changes. So what was the point of you coming all the way over here to tell me this?” Silence fell over them for a minute while San tried to think of something. “Good talk.” She goes to close the door for a fourth time, but this time stops herself to say one more thing. “Maybe you should make a note in your phone of her favourites. So you don’t forget.” Before San could say anything else, she closes the door.

            He goes to knock again but is stopped by Changbin. “I think it’s pretty clear she doesn’t want to talk to you.” San looks at the door and then back at Changbin, noticing the bags of food he had in his hands. He realizes now that she was expecting Changbin when she first opened the door, smile wide, makeup freshly done. It reminds him of when they first started dating, when he would show up at her house with food and gifts. How she would open the door with the same smile, the same starry look in her eyes. It’s clear to him now that she’s completely moved on, and for some reason, he hates the feeling settling in his chest.

~

            It didn’t hit her until she was gathering her belongings together after class, humming a song to herself that Changbin likes to sing to her, that she was growing attached. She was falling for him. She didn’t think of San anymore. Or the hurt he gave her. She didn’t think of the breakup in the coffee shop with San handing her a drink she barely drank. Or the dinner where San pointed out food she would hate. She didn’t even think of the fact that her relationship with San was over long before either of them walked away. That he had another girl lined up for when he left her.

            She thought of Changbin coming in, sliding her favourite drink across the table like he was the one she was supposed to be meeting up with the whole time. How he knew immediately which meal at the restaurant she would like, knowing the one San pointed out was one she wouldn’t eat. She thought of the way Changbin didn’t let her dwell in the heartbreak. He mended her heart before she could even realize it was broken.

            The realization stopped her in her tracks, steps away from her desk, her bag falling to the floor. She was in love with Changbin. How could she be in love with Changbin? She spent years hating him, wanting nothing to do with him. Now all she wants to do is spend the day with him. Everyday.

            “Are you okay?” Changbin came rushing in, picking her bag up off the ground, looking over her to see if she was injured anywhere. “Are you sick?” When he placed his hand on her forehead, she met his eyes. They were filled with worry and concern. And they were only focused on her. Even with other students around them, he only looked at her. “Let’s get you home and I’ll make you some soup.”

            He slung her bag over his shoulder with no hesitation, wrapping her in his arms, leading her out of the building and to his car. People stared. They whispered. But Changbin didn’t care. He still only looked at her. She stopped walking and reached for her bag, but Changbin pulled back. “You don’t have to do this anymore. It’s been almost two weeks since I’ve seen San. We can end this and go back to the way things used to be.” She held out her hand for her bag, but Changbin softly hit it away.

            “What if I don’t want to? What if I want to continue to be by your side? Did you ever think of that?” She stared at him, unsure of what to say. It never crossed her mind that Changbin wanted to be with her. Despite that being the most plausible reason for him continuing to show up everywhere. She always saw him as someone to hate, someone that hates her just as much. “Let me just take you home. Please.” He sounded desperate. As if he was seconds away from getting on his knees. So she gave in.

            The drive was silent. Unlike the drives in the past, which were usually filled with music, Changbin singing along, looking over at her, and serenading her with every cheesy love song. She would laugh, playfully smack his arm, and tell him he was a dork. But it never stopped him. Not that she wanted him to stop. And now that he’s not, she wishes for nothing more than just to be serenaded one last time.

            “Don’t come around anymore.” She said softly as she got out of his car. “Thanks for all your help.” He nodded and she shut the door. He waited until she was inside to drive away, trying to pretend like his heart wasn’t hurting and his eyes weren’t stinging from holding back tears.

~

            She tried to keep to routine the following days, but without Changbin knocking at her door making her excited for the days to come, the routine seemed to fall apart. It felt like she was back at square one. Pulling herself out of bed, shuffling into the bathroom. She tamed her hair that was knotted all over from tossing and turning, brushed her teeth, and washed her face.

            Her eyes scanned over her makeup when she sat at the desk in her room, glancing up into the mirror. And then she stood up, got dressed, and left her room. “Eat something before you go.” Her roommate called after her. When she turned around, she saw dishes scattered on the table. “Did you and Changbin break up?” Her roommate asked as they sat at the table to eat. “I got used to having him around everyday.” She giggled.

            “Me too.” Y/n mumbled then caught herself. “We weren’t dating!” Her roommate looked at her like she didn’t believe her.

            “Oh please. So he was just coming over everyday with food just because?” Y/n nodded. “Picking you up after class? Taking you out all the time? Late night drives? All just because?” She nodded again, slowly this time, taking in the words. “And look at you now. You look like you’re going through a break up.”

            Y/n looked down at her outfit. It was warm outside so she wore a t-shirt with a pair of shorts. It was comfortable. She thought it was cute. But if Changbin were here to pick her up, she’s sure she would have gone for a skirt instead. Or maybe a little sundress. She would have done her hair better. A touch of makeup. “I’m going to class.”

            “Just admit you guys broke up!” Her roommate calls after her and she slams the door, blinking back tears as she hops on her bicycle. It’s been a while, used to Changbin driving her everywhere. But she took a deep breath, put her ear buds in, and took another second to blink back more tears, and then headed for class.

            She didn’t even notice the all too familiar car sitting across the street. Changbin sitting inside, watching her to make sure she was okay. He wonders if she ate the food he left on the steps for her. Wonders if she wished he knocked on the door. If she misses the mornings they shared the way he did.

~

            When all her classes were done, she packed up slower than usual, nothing to look forward to anymore. Changbin wasn’t waiting for her outside the classroom door with his heart stopping smile. He wasn’t going to take her bag and wrap an arm around her, talking a mile a minute about his day, asking about hers, as he led her to his car. They wouldn’t drive around until they found something to do, somewhere to eat.

            Instead she walks alone to her bike, head down, ignoring all the chatter around her. She’s come to terms with the fact that maybe, just maybe her and Changbin took the fake dating thing a little too seriously. Got a little too close. Became a little too attached. “Y/n.” Her head snaps up at the familiar voice, seeing someone standing by her bike with a nervous smile.

            “What are you doing here?” She grumbled as she unlocked her bike, getting ready to go home. And then she stood up, holding her bike by the handlebars, staring at the man that nervously scratched the back of his neck. “If you don’t have anything to say, goodbye.”

            “Y/n wait, please.” She really thought she’d never see him again. Hoped she’d never see him again. “You and Changbin. Is it true you broke up?” She used to find his nervous habits cute. The way he’d kick his feet, scratch at his neck, barely make eye contact. But not anymore.

            “That’s not any of your business, San.” She answered.

            “Do you want to know why I actually broke up with you?” He asked before she could leave. The question had her stopping in her tracks. She thought she knew. He didn’t love her anymore. He forget everything about her, started to learn about someone new. “You’re right that our relationship was over long before either of us walked away, but do you know why?”

            “Because you fell out of love with me.” She answered, turning around to face him. He shook his head.

            “Because I knew you and Changbin didn’t really hate each other.” She let out a laugh. She remembers telling San all the things Changbin has done to her, said to her. All the times he made her cry. She would say his name with venom lacing her words. “It was only a matter of time before you saw what I did.”

            “What the fuck are you talking about? I despised him.”

            “I didn’t.” She whipped her head around to see Changbin standing there. “I never hated you. I’m just an idiot and a coward.”

            “I got to go.” She said, getting on her bike and leaving before either of them could say anything else. San nodded his head towards her, telling Changbin to go after her. He watched as Changbin rushed to his car, leaving as fast as he could, knowing he was right. He leaned against the bike rack, shoving his hands in his pockets, practically kicking himself for the words that came out of his mouth.

            That’s not how he wanted the talk to go. He just wanted to know if there was any hope for them to start again, but he knew by the look in her eyes when she saw him that the answer was no. It would always be no. He was too late.

~

            Changbin beat her to her house, standing in front of her steps by the time she made it home, a hopeful smile on his face. “Can we please talk?” She took in his appearance. The dark circles under his eyes, the holes in his shirt. It looked like he rolled out of bed and went to class, but why does she still find him attractive?

            “You look like a mess.” She said. He looked down at his outfit and chuckled, shrugging his shoulders, telling her he didn’t think he would be seeing her today, even though he wanted to. “Are you going to give me some cheesy speech about how you’ve always had feelings for me and that made you nervous so you said dumb things and that made me hate you?” He opened his mouth to dispute that but closed it and nodded. “Idiot.”

            “We’ve established that.” He said. She giggled and nodded. “So? Should we give us a real chance?” He looked at her with a hopeful look in his eyes, cocking his head slightly to the side as he waited for her answer.            

“Let’s go inside. We have a new episode of our show today.” She said, taking a step towards him, turning him around, and lightly pushing him up the steps, slipping her hand in his before she opened the door. He smiled at her, holding tighter so she couldn’t slip away this time.  

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@mxnsxngie @maeleelee @turtledove824 @moon0fthenight @dinossaurz

[nishirikixo]

Twisted Love Ch. 1

pairings: yandere!jay x reader

chapter warnings: supernatural elements (?). fear, swearing, drugging, a bit of non con, please let me know if i missed anything!

Sorry for taking so long to post this! I hope everyone enjoys this, I love feedback so please feel free to let me know what you think! This is my first series as well so I will do my best to make it a good read :) This is not proof read btw so I apologize for any spelling mistakes or other errors!! 🥲

It was nearly 1am and you were still in the office finishing up your work. All of your coworkers left around 10pm and the only sound filling the office now has been the click clacks of your keyboard. You haven't taken a break once today, not to eat, get a drink of water, nothing. There was some commotion earlier over a handsome new hire but you didn't have the time to worry about it. The only thing on your mind was finishing this project.

You had been assigned as a group leader for the first time since you started working here. If everything went well you could end up being promoted, so you were determined to not mess anything up.

You had been feeling hungry for a few hours now so you decided that a break would be okay if it was very short. When you got up from your chair you only then noticed how eerie the office looked when it was dark and empty like this. You pushed that thought aside and went to grab your unopened lunch from earlier. It was just some instant ramen and a bottle of soda.

You quickly made the instant ramen and sat back down at your desk to eat. Of course. you didn't want to waste too much time, so you worked a bit while you ate. Suddenly, a strange sound rung out through the large building. It sounded as if it came from afar, maybe not even the same floor you were on. Goosebumps rose on your skin and you suddenly felt extremely uneasy.

You quickly slurped the last of your ramen tossing it away, opting to finish your work tomorrow when people are still present in the office with you.

You made your way down the long narrow hallway to get to the elevator. The already dim lights flickered off and on, between flickers you could see what seemed to be a figure at the end of the hallway. After another moment, the lights settled and you realized there was someone else here with you.

You were completely struck by fear and your body froze up. The figure made its way towards you slowly. You wanted to run but you couldn't get yourself to move. The more he came in to view the more your anxiety heightened, his face was unfamiliar to you but you wondered how he could've gotten in if he didn't work here as well.

It was only a moment more before he stood directly in front of you. He seemed to tower over you, your eyes were leveled with his chest. The strange man reached his hand out to you. "Hello, I'm Jay. Nice to meet you."

What the hell?

You then looked up at him to see quite a good looking man. His facial features were chiseled and his hair was blonde and looked soft and silky. His eyes bore into you in a way that had the hairs on the back of your neck sticking up.

"Are you just going to stare at me? Or are you going to introduce yourself as well." He gestured to his hand that was still awaiting your handshake.

You hesitantly took his hand in yours to shake it. His grip became uncomfortably tight but you gulped down the anxiety that started to rise. "I'm... Y/n. Um it's late, I should probably head home now." You forced a smile, pulling your hand from his and rushing down the hall, not giving him another chance to speak.

He turned to watch you. His eyes never left you through your entire walk down the hallway until you entered the elevator. The lights flickered again as he stood in the hallway, a sinister smirk painted across his face.

It won't be long now, my love.

You rushed home as fast as possible, triple checking the locks on your doors and windows. You don't know what this extremely uneasy feeling was, but you wanted to avoid that man at all costs.

You tried not to think about him and chose to change and get into bed. His face kept appearing every time you closed your eyes. You'd even been startled awake so many times by phantom sounds of his voice calling your name.

You got up to grab a cold bottle of water. You weren't sure if it was paranoia but you heard a cracking sound coming from your room where you'd just left. You grabbed a knife from the kitchen, holding the water bottle under your arm and slowly approached your room.

You took a deep breath before slowly opening the door. You looked everywhere and there was no one to be found. You were relieved but you felt embarrased for hearing those mysterious sounds all night and ruining your sleep over them. You also weren't able to finish your project and that bothered you even more.

You laid down, attempting to sleep once more. Of course having the same outcome and not being able to get enough rest.

Before you knew it your alarm was ringing and it was time to get up and get ready for work. You rushed to the bathroom, splashing cold water on your face and haphazardly applying your makeup. You could see dark circles under your eyes but you were too tired to care and the throbbing headache you had was an additional factor to your lack of energy. You quickly got changed and rushed out of the house to get to work.

When you arrived at work you heard more commotion of that new hire. You couldn't have cared less until you caught sight of him. You could see everyone crowding near the desk he was working at. He payed them no mind, just focussing on getting tasks done. Thats when it hit you, it all suddenly made sense. Jay was the handsome man everyone was talking about. That's how he got in last night.

You didn't realize you'd been staring at him as well until he looked up and his eyes met yours. You snapped out of your trance and hurriedly got situated at your desk. After a couple moments he was behind you, spinning your chair to have you face him. You jumped in your seat with a gasp, grabbing onto the arms of the chair. "Jay- What are you-" "I'm joining your group for the project, our supervisor told me to let you know." You looked around seeing the shared whispers between your co workers. You never liked attention, it made you anxious. "You could've told me that without scaring the shit out of me." You rolled your eyes turning your chair back around, but he stopped you. "Is.. there something else." He nodded. You stared at him, shifting uncomfortably and waiting for him to speak. His eyes traced over you, leaving you with the same feeling from the night before.

He leaned closer to you, causing you to back up and leaving you pressed into the desk. His face was inches away from yours and your heart was pounding in your chest. His eyes scanned your face and he softly chuckled, "Stay late after work today, Y/n."

You couldn't formulate a reply, not that he would've waited for one anyways. He left you stuck to your desk and returned to his work without another word. You took a deep breath and gathered yourself, turning back around. You sat idle at your desk for a while.

"Y/n, what was that all about?" One of your coworkers sat at the desk next to yours with a judgemental look on her face. "What? Oh, you mean Jay. Nothing, he was just letting me know he's going to be part of my group for the project." She sighed, "Ah that makes so much sense!" She turned away to her group of friends. They all whispered loudly enough for you to hear. "Of course it was just because of work," one of the girls scoffed. "obviously he wasn't interested in her, shes not that attractive." You rolled your eyes, ignoring their remarks.

You glanced up to see Jay looking over at you. You tried your best to ignore the feeling of his gaze but at one point you'd had enough. You made your way over to the restroom just to have a few minutes without being watched. What's his deal?

You carried on with your day, zoning out everything around you. Once it hit 10pm, everyone began packing up their things and leaving.

"Y/n." You looked up to see Jay hovering over your desk. "Ah, Jay.. you'd asked me to stay late after, right? " He nodded, taking the seat next to you. He pulled your chair in front of his, you sucked in a breath making eye contact with him now. "Is... is this about work..?" He chuckled, placing his hand on your knee. "Of course, I'm just curious about the project." He rubbed your thigh, causing your body to go stiff beneath his touch. "Jay- I-" You quickly grabbed his hand, forcing it to stop. "I have to go." You stood up grabbing your bag and heading for the elevator. He followed shortly after you, his steps matched your pace. He walked slower when you slowed down and he walked faster when you sped up. Once you were inside the elevator you rapidly pressed the button waiting for the door to close. Unfortunately you weren't quick enough, right before it closed he swung his bag through the small gap causing the doors to re-open.

You gasped and harshly pushed your back against the wall of the elevator. He slammed his hands on either side of your head. The dark look in his eye made shivers run down your spine. "You know, it was quite rude how you left just now." You lifted your head to look at him, your eyes welled up with tears formed by fear. You weren't able to speak, he didn't seem to mind your lack of reply though.

You felt uncomfortable by the close proximity between the two of you. The ride in the elevator felt like an eternity to both you and him, for different reasons though of course. Neither of you were able to take your eyes off each other. For you, it was fear. For him, it was lust.

The elevator finally came to its stop, the door opening. "I'II let you go now. Baby. But we'll talk about this later." He left a soft kiss on your forehead before exiting the elevator. You were left with a single tear rolling down your face.

You eventually made it home, but of course you were pretty shaken up. You felt so dirty. The second you put your things down you got into the shower. The steaming hot water was all you needed right now. You took a nice long shower and prepared to sleep.

You sat on your bed checking your missed messages when a loud thump was heard. It sounded like it came from your balcony. You got up and peeked through the blinds but there wasn't anything there, so you sat back down. But it happened again. And again. And again. This time you went outside, you looked below, to the sides, and above. But there was nothing. What the hell is going on?

You leaned against the railing, looking out at the street. It seemed to be peaceful, the road wasn't too busy, and the sky was full of stars. It would have been a perfect night

You took a deep breath getting ready to go inside when a hand suddenly clasped over your mouth. You kicked and screamed into the hand. The person's other hand held tightly onto your waist to prevent your thrashing. Their hand was removed from your mouth for less than a second before a cloth was pressed back against it. You tried prying it off but their grip was too strong and so eventually, you lost conciousness.

You woke up on the floor of an empty room with white walls. It was dark but not to the point where you couldn't see. You sat up holding your head in your hands, you felt groggy and had a painful headache.

You looked around the room but there were no windows and no way out other than a single door that you assumed would be locked.

As if on queue you heard the locks being opened and someone came through the door. The lights flipped on and your breath hitched in your throat. "Jay...

"Hello, Y/n." His saccharine smile made you feel sick. "Why did you bring me here." He knelt down in front of you, brushing a strand of your hair behind your ear. "Isn't it obvious, I wanted to see you." You pushed his hand away, "Well I don't want to see you." He cooed at you, lifting his hand back up to caress your cheek. "One day you won't feel that way anymore." You pushed him away again but this time he wasn't having it. He pinned you against the cold floor, holding you by your waist. You pushed at his shoulders but he wouldn't budge. His eyes studied every inch of you. Oh how he loved to see you vulnerable like this beneath him. You felt his lips on your neck and immediately you were kicking and punching. He had no trouble holding you down, he liked it more when you put up a fight.

He only stopped when he heard your soft frustrated sniffles. "Shhh Baby, It's not that bad. You'll get used to me." You shook your head, holding back a sob. Jay got up leaving you on the ground. He left the room momentarily, but came back within seconds. He got down and pulled you in for a hug, inhaling your scent. You were too tired to fight him this time, he could tell, so he placed a short peck on your lips while he could. After that you felt a small poke in your neck and you were out like a light.

You woke up to your usual alarm. You shot up looking around, feeling distraught. You were in your bed in your room. But you could've sworn you were with Jay? You had been very stressed with anxious thoughts after the incident in the elevator so could it have been a dream?

It just felt so real.

[hyperfixation-fix]

I had DPDR (depersonalisation/derealisation) disorder as a teen. For those who don't know, DPDR is when your brain is so overwhelmed by pain and fear and misery that it decides the only way to survive is to disconnect. Depersonalisation is where your brain severs the connection between your consciousness and your body, so it feels like your body isn't real/isn't yours. Derealisation is where your brain severs the connection between your consciousness and the world around you, so the world itself doesn't feel real.

Nico (almost) losing himself to Shadow Travel in BoO hits a little too close to home. It's exactly how it feels to experience the world and your body slipping out of your grasp as a DPDR episode flares up.

It feels like dying, from the outside in.

Always have, always will headcannon Nico as having DPDR, and recovering from it as he finds a home at CHB.

If you're curious, I've put more of my experience below. But please proceed with caution - I've tried to keep it non-triggering but there are a lot of detailed descriptions of DPDR, so if that's going to trigger you, please don't read on. Take care of yourself ❤️

I mostly experienced derealisation. I'm currently in a bad episode for the first time in years, and it's interesting (if terrifying) to revisit this feeling.

It feels like you're dreaming or hallucinating, or like there's a thick layer of gel between your consciousness and everything else. Any outside stimuli - ideas, words, experiences, sensations - get lodged in the gel and while I can see them, I can't engage with them. If I really want to, I have to reach out through the gel, force my way through it, grab ahold of the stimulus, and yank it back through the gel and into my brain. It works, but it's slow and exhausting.

I have a vivid memory of the moment I realised my brain was broken, really and truly broken (or it felt like it). I was 11 or 12, standing in my friend's kitchen. She'd asked me to get something out of the pantry, but I just stared into it. Shapes and colours filled the shelves, but they weren't things, they didn't mean anything. I had to reach through the gel layer around my mind and drag each item in, so I could hold it up in my brain next to the thing I was looking for and go, "no, they don't match. Next."

This broken-brain-thing happened every few months or so, and although I felt crazy, the doctor said there was nothing wrong except slightly low vitamin D. So I ignored the pit of dread in my stomach and kept keeping on.

5 years later, I took an overnight flight for a school trip and missed a night of sleep. I dozed off in the museum, and when I opened my eyes again, I wasn't awake. I could have sworn my feet weren't touching the ground when I walked, and that the familiar faces of my friends warped slightly in front of me, and I was sure they disappeared entirely when I turned my back. My body tingled and my brain felt fuzzy. Was I dreaming still? The clocks told the time correctly, and I could feel my head ache dully, but... the world didn't feel right. And as I floated down the corridor, down the steps, into the bus, I became more and more certain that if this was a dream, it was only a matter of time before it became a nightmare. And the more terrified I became, the more I could feel my consciousness sinking deeper into my brain, further and further away from the world. I cried and shook and shut down, and the teacher phoned my parents, who were furious that I had wasted the trip. I was welcomed home with scathing silence and biting judgement. My brain decided then and there that it was done, that is was out. of. options. If I was going to survive the next 2 years, then staying disconnected was the only way to do it.

So I got through my final years of high school and my first year of uni in a haze. I got top grades. Of course I did - my brain was on autopilot. Finally, I got the right therapy, medication, diagnosis. I moved out. Slowly, slowly, the wall of gel thinned and dissipated, and the world was real again.

Now I almost never feel like this. As much as I hate it, I know it will go away again, like it has before. I know this is my brain wrapping me in cotton wool while it drags me through the thicket of thorns to the other side. I know it's worried about me, and trying to keep me safe, and I'm thankful for that.

[buzzkillchainsaw]

⚠️ addiction, child abuse/neglect, death

Takumi Hoga was twelve years old when he first entered the ring. What else was he to do, really? He had just found out that he would be held back another grade again. Usually kids like him would hear the same old "You're not stupid, you're just lazy" speech over and over again, but not Takumi. He knew what the teachers thought of him. The current ones, that is. The teachers at the last two schools he was expelled from were probably relieved to never waste another thought on him again, after what he did. Bit a child here, broke a bone there. Bruises. Bloody noses. "Beast types", teachers would sneer whenever Takumi caused another "incident". Other than that, nobody paid much attention to him, even in class. You see, Takumi was born with abnormally large and abnormally many teeth very similar to a shark's. Whenever he opened his mouth to say something, teachers and students alike would cringe at his impeded speech, the latter even making fun of it in front of the former. So Takumi just stopped speaking altogether. His grades steadily worsened. His job prospects looked bleaker and bleaker each year. His parents didn't care. His mother was busy with drugs and whatever affair she had going on currently and his father often left for "work" for days at a time, leaving his son to fend for himself more often than not. There was nothing in his life that could've prevented Takumi from entering the ring.

On that fateful day after school Takumi was prowling the streets, homework and upcoming tests being the last thing on his mind. Some kid, a few years older than him, approached him. A fellow "beast", with sharp teeth and blue scales on his skin. He was wearing a cool leather jacket and expensive sunglasses. Takumi liked them.

"Hey, buddy. You look bored.", the guy said.

Takumi nodded. He was bored.

"I know a place where kids like us can have fun and earn cash on the side. Interested?"

"Like a job?", Takumi asked.

"Yeah, but more fun.", the guy answered.

Takumi was unsure. His teacher had told him that he'd never have a good job with his lousy grades and long attack record. "No respectable company will want to hire a beast like you.", she said. So how come this guy now wanted him for a job? And a "fun" one, at that?

"What do I have to do?", Takumi asked.

Everything moved quickly after that. The guy introduced him to "the boss", a man in his thirties who loved expensive food and loud cars. He even let Takumi sit on the passenger seat and choose the music they listened to on their drive to the ring. When they arrived, Takumi was handed a simple white shirt and shorts which reminded him of the clothes he had to wear in gym class. "Now all you gotta do", the boss said, "is beat up this guy over there." Another beast was in the ring, not much older than Takumi. He waved towards the excited crowd beyond the cage that surrounded the ring.

"Beat him up?", Takumi asked, "I'm allowed to do that?"

"Yeah. Beat him, scratch him, bite him, do whatever you want until he taps out or you hear the alarm."

"What if I have to tap out first?", Takumi asked. The boss grinned and handed him a tiny plastic bag with some powder inside. "I don't think you will." 

The guy from before didn't lie: This was fun. Takumi didn't even break a sweat during his first fight, knocking the guy out cold. The second fight was against an older girl who transformed into a wolf, Takumi grabbed her nape with his teeth and shook her until she tapped out. At the end of the evening the boss gave him his payment and drove him back. He handed the boy a phone and said he'd text him if he had another fight for him lined up. Takumi stuffed the phone and the money in his pockets and went to buy himself a leather jacket and sunglasses.

Takumi Hoga was thirteen years old when he adopted the stage name "Armageddon". The boss had turned him into a rising star in the local business. Bets were made on whether Armageddon won or lost the fight and the boss always gave him a cut of the winnings which Takumi would spend on food, video games and clothes. Sponsors would sometimes pay him directly to write messages and contact details on his white shirt in permanent marker, displaying them in the ring for all to see. After the fight, the boss would get him cleaned up and drive him home. Takumi then spent the next day eagerly awaiting a message from the boss. On nights without fights Takumi felt horrible, writhing around in his bed, sweating bullets and sometimes even throwing up. But as soon as a new fight came up and Takumi got his hands on that powder the boss always gave him beforehand, the world was alright again. He felt light but focused at the same time, fearless, excited and full of energy. He had finally found something he was good at. And he loved doing it.

Takumi Hoga was fourteen years old when he almost died in the ring. The boss didn’t tell him beforehand that the reptile-looking beast he was about to fight had venom. Armageddon knocked out his opponent, but then sunk to the floor, foaming at the mouth, breathing raspily. “This wouldn’t have happened if you just killed the fucker before he bit you”, the boss hissed into his ear. After some back and forth the manager of the reptile guy decided to hand over some antivenom. Even with that, Takumi felt horrible for days afterwards, unable to move the bitten arm. But when the boss texted him again the week after, he jumped at the opportunity to get back in the ring.

Takumi Hoga was fifteen years old when he fought his first adult opponent in the ring. He was hesitant, but the boss said that nobody wanted to pay to see Armageddon wipe the floor with boring ol' kids who couldn't even fight back. "There's just no money in it", the boss said, "and you wanna keep making money, don't you?" When Armageddon entered the ring, he saw a young man in front of him. Some kind of fish beast with claws and glowing spots on his skin. "Please", the man whispered, "I have debts. I need to get out of here. Please just forfeit, I need the money. I really need it." Armageddon shook his head. "Please", the man said, "Don't hurt me." Armageddon was fifteen years old when he took his first life in the ring.

Armageddon was sixteen years old when he first tried to leave the business. He kept having nightmares about the man he killed and the side effects of the powder started getting to him. But he craved it more and more and that tiny little packet the boss always gave him just didn't cut it anymore. He would've just bought himself more if he knew what it was. The boss wouldn't tell him. So one day, Armageddon stopped answering texts from the boss. He prowled the streets instead, picking fights, doing anything to distract from the withdrawal symptoms plaguing him. Eventually, he collapsed on the street and woke up again in the hospital. Police were called, his parents were called, social services were called. Lots of big words were thrown around that he didn't understand. Negligence. Addiction. Custody. Takumi Hoga was sixteen years old when he was removed from his parents and placed in temporary care with social services. But he didn't stay there very long. They wanted him to go to rehab, anger management classes, school. They took his phone and his hard earned money and placed him on a strict schedule with an early curfew. And Takumi tried. He really did. But he just couldn't live the life everyone else was expecting of him. Takumi Hoga was sixteen years old when he escaped back to the only life he knew how to live well.

Armageddon was seventeen years old when he fought “Razortooth”, a masked volunteer from the crowd. It was a rare occasion. Usually the boss decided who would fight him and the fights would be advertised in the business days in advance. Sometimes the book would drive him to private fights in some rich guy’s basement where Armageddon would fight and kill exotic animals, other beast-types or just random people who probably wronged that rich guy somehow. But tonight was open cage night in the ring, so whichever brave soul thought they could kick Armageddon’s ass was allowed to. Razortooth was a green-skinned beast wearing a short-sleeved hoodie and a ski mask. Armageddon immediately noticed that she fought wildly different from what he was used to. When you spend a lot of time in the ring, you tend to adopt a certain style. Flashy. Violent. Ruthless. But Razortooth didn’t seem to be here for the show. She dodged a left hook and rushed him, wrapping an arm around his neck.

“Hey”, she whispered into his ear as he struggled to get free.

“Hey”, he whispered back. He then punched her in the back, but the angle was weird, so it didn’t hit as hard.

“You want out?”, she whispered and shifted her weight, letting him stumble backwards towards her leg and kicking him in the back of his knee.

“I can’t”, he whispered back.

“He’s got you on Flick? That powder?”

“Yeah. Powder.”

“Alright. Sink to the floor and punch me in the kidney.”, she whispered.

“Why?”

“I’ll slip you my number and then I’ll forfeit.”

“Why?”

“I wanna help you get out.”

So Armageddon sank to the floor, then used her lowered defense to punch her. He then grabbed her and pushed her against the cage wall. Her arms flew up and he noticed something brushing against the pockets of his shorts. Razortooth forfeited.

Takumi Hoga was eighteen years old when he joined the Purpose Program. It was a long back and forth with Hitomi, the beast who had fought him in the ring under the name “Razortooth”. He thought about calling her for weeks after the fight, but something always came up. When he finally did, he didn’t expect her to be actually serious about helping him. But she was. They met up in secret and just talked for a bit. 

“Are you a cop?”, he asked. 

“No.”, she said, “Cops won’t help much in a situation like this.” Takumi nodded. 

It felt great to talk about all this to someone. Hitomi never judged him, even when he talked about how he enjoyed hurting people in the ring. Or when he told her how he once woke up almost choking on his own vomit the night after a big fight (and big dosage of Flick). She showed him where to get Flick so he wasn’t dependent on the boss for it anymore. But she also told him what the drug actually did to his body, how he was cutting his life short if he continued consuming it. Takumi didn’t wanna die. But he also didn’t know what to do with his life if it wasn’t in the ring. Hitomi then offered to go get him tested, no strings attached. Takumi remembered how he did get tested once in elementary school, but not much was revealed there besides “big teeth” and “stronger than his peers”. The tests of the Purpose Program were different, though. It really felt like the scientists were interested in him, in what he could do. Apparently he was able to breathe underwater all this time, it just required a little surgery to open the gills in his neck. The first time he dove into the pool at the research center was heavenly, it was like he had discovered a piece of himself that was always hidden away from him. He was also strong, which he already knew, and had a lot of endurance. And the cherry on top was his excellent sense of smell underwater. He could locate a drop of blood on the other side of the pool while blindfolded. 

“Water rescue” was the verdict. A job. For him. 

He didn’t take it. He was scared. He relapsed multiple times, going back to the ring on nights where his mind just wouldn’t stop racing. But instead of the boss, it was Hitomi who picked him up. “Recovery isn’t linear”, she’d say. “But if you wanna enter the program, you gotta commit, Takumi.”

“I don’t wanna be Takumi anymore.”, he said, “But I also don’t wanna be Armageddon.”

“So who do you wanna be?”, she asked.

[sillyfanatic]

It’s my birthday. Have a pirate sonadow blurb 🫡

-

He doesn’t think there’s another feeling like it – the sun warming your face, the salty air carried around by a soft breeze – it’s almost like heaven.

Shadow relishes in the feeling of the sunlight on his fur, a warmth unlike any other; it had always felt as though it was an embrace from the sky itself.

The wind picked up as they sailed through the day, their destination unknown. The ship was fully stocked, and she had been well maintained too. The crew was happy, they’d gotten to stretch their legs on the land. It had been an opportunity for some to be alone, the others choosing to socialize with anyone that lived outside of the boat.

There was no place to go, no one awaiting their arrival. It was a moment in-between, one that was sure to leave as fast as it had come.

Sighing, Shadow signaled another crew member to take the wheel, allowing him to store himself away in his cabin.

He was glad to have a moment of rest, but his years of surviving off scraps had left his nervous system a wreck: he was unable to “relax” as it were, always needing to do something useful with his time.

As he stepped into his cabin, he tried to shake the feeling that crept bellow his stomach.

He eyed the bed.

You should lay down.

And yet his desk called to him;

You should make yourself useful. Do not waste your time, you know better than to do something foolish like that.

Huffing, the hedgehog made his way to his rather empty working surface. It wouldn’t stay like this for very long – there was always work to do, something to check off the never-ending list.

And so he started.

On everything and anything, Shadow kept himself busy. He charted courses, logged in progress, assured everything was up-to-date and stocked to its maximum capacity.

He read and wrote, turned away from the sun and the salty air, he found ways to make himself busy. To make use of his time.

He did so until there was a knock at the door. “Come in.” He grunted, that little voice in his head trying to tell him to ignore the knock, the distraction.

Behind the wooden door appeared a familiar shade of blue – trouble in the form of a hedgehog.

“Sonic.” He greeted, rather passively, as he drew up some old paperwork he’d meant to organize many moons ago.

“Captain.” The other said in return, nodding his head with a little smile. Said captain glanced at his crewmate, a little dip in his brow – curiosity.

“Out with it.” He said, though it wasn’t harsh. He knew Sonic well enough to know that he’d not come here for nothing, and the longer he stayed, the less work Shadow would get done.

“Can I ask you something?”

“I suppose.”

Taking a few steps forward, the blue hedgehog stood at the front of his captain’s desk, casting a shadow onto his paperwork. “Why’re you in here?” He tilted his head as he spoke.

“Working.” Was the simple answer, an incomplete one.

“I see that, but-“ He took a breath, pouting for a second as he thought. “Forgive my rudeness here…” Another little pause, as if he was hesitant to continue. Still, ever the risk-taker, he proceeded: “There isn’t really any work to do. You shouldn’t be working.”

“Pardon?” He crossed his arms over his chest.

“Well, you’ve been working hard for weeks now, and… you have to admit it, there’s nothing to do.”

“Tcht.” He had to force himself to not roll his eyes at the other. “There’s always something to do.”

“I mean, if you think that way, yeah, there’s always something to do.” He shrugged his shoulders, soft smile lining his lips. “But thinking that way’ll kill ya.”

“Oh, don’t be-“

But before he could give into his annoyance, the dark hedgehog heard his words turn to muffling as a hand came down to stop his speech.

“Shadow.” The other spoke, eyes locking with his. A crew member shouldn’t be so familiar with their captain. And a captain should never allow it, should never encourage it. And yet, Shadow seemed to do both those things. “It’s a beautiful day, there is nothing to do. You should enjoy it.” The hand was removed, allowing him to respond.

He opened his mouth to… refuse? To yell at Sonic to leave? To ask him how he dared speak to his captain in this way?

To accept?

The choice was made for him – before he knew what to do, he’d been dragged onto the deck, gloved hands linked to strong blue arms tugging him across the ship.

It wasn’t long before they were still, watching the ocean from behind the strong wooden railing of their ship.

His every instinct told him to leave.

But the life in Sonic’s eyes begged him to stay.

How could he ever refuse such a thing?

As they took in the salty air, they filled the quietness of the day with banter, their laughter lost to the horizon.

And Shadow thought this was better than the sea breeze and the sun - Sonic was better than the sea breeze and the sun. He was as rowdy and free as the ocean, as strong and reliable as the sails that pushed them through it. And as the captain gazed upon his crew mate he knew that this was no ordinary friendship, that this was a gem in an empty and vast sea, one that only came around once in a lifetime.

He’s be a fool not to seize the opportunity.

-

A/N

Yoooooo crimson part two ??!!;!;;!;! After almost 2 years ,??:?!. I haven’t named this but I’ll post it on ao3 :3 hope y’all enjoy I am RUSTY !

<- previous part

[tassodelmiele]

Noisy little mess

Hi sweetie ⁓

Here we are, it's finally monday and we can hope again in having a good, productive week (please let it be a sunny one too I can't hibernate in April I need my photosynthesis).

I'm wondering what do you think of this little work of mine, so if you feel like it you can write me whatever comment/question/any various and possible magical shit.

Have a good chocolaty day ⁓

DISCLAIMERS: little bit of touching and hints about sub/dom relationship! Finally my kinks are emerging! (evil laugh); Ghost-who-needs-to-make-peace-with-his-brain x Reader-who-needs-to-learn-how-to-shut-up; "How to be a psychologist without a degree" (by John Price); embarassing mission I hope does not exist in reality, but i needed it for plot's sake; little bit of wounds and scars (Doc.'s gonna tie you and Ghost up to a chair for the rest of your life); yelling and fighting and arguing (you're used to it by now).

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Fourth part here:

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«Why the hell you've let her-»

«MacTavish»

Price swallows through the smoked breath, clenching his fingers around the consumed cigar just to distract himself from the willingness to punch a wall, or the Sergeant's face.

«I've already had Ghost yelling at me for half an hour. Spare me»

«Then explain yourself, Cap.»

«I can't. I've no explanation. She'd done it by herself»

«She's no insubordinate»

«Not in that sense». He sighs. «I told her no. I knew it was too much for a rookie». He chews the extinguished cigar for a while, taking his time. «Laswell agreed. But that goddamn girl managed to convince Kate, somehow»

«How come?»

«Dunno. But she's already feeling bad enough, and she was the one who's got to rescue the girl»

«Laswell?? Ye serious?»

Price nods, eyes locked at the door in front of them. The doc entered almost one hour ago.

«And» Soap dares to ask «is Laswell…uhm…»

«She's ok» the Captain anticipates him. «Nothing broken. But the rookie…». He sighs again, scratching the bridge of his nose, pushing lightly his digits on the eyes. «I don't like soldiers wasting their lives like this. Especially good ones»

«The mission had to be done anyway»

«We could have waited for a better plan»  

He takes a last chew on the cigar, spitting it on his glove before squeezing the leftover crumbles in his fist. He throws everything in a trashcan, then gazes at Soap.

«We've got shit to do, Sergeant. We'll come to check her later»

«They've done something bad to her». That wasn't really a question, even if Soap hopes to be wrong. «Am i right?»

«What came up in that bloody lil' head of yours?»

Three gunshots in your arm (the right one, 'cause luck kicks you in the ass as always), one blade wound and various bruises, just to complete the masterpiece. Doc sent you out of the bed with a promise: to try to not touch the medications.

One in particular.

You didn't even want to eat, but you need to. So breakfast has started, with chocolate scent, closed stomach and two pairs of gaze on your red face. You've tried to avoid contact with every human being in the base, but someone's got a good sense of smell for you. And you eventually end up with Soap and Gaz surrounding you with their (legitimate) questions.

You're blushing like hell, stirring oatmeal crumble in the mug with your eyes drowning into it.

«…I've thought…i could be helpful»

«You're a brave kid, but that was-»

«Stupid» Soap ends the sentence. «To say the least». He finishes his coffee in a sip, swallowing the hot liquid in a rush. «It wasn't a rookie's work, ye should've known» 

You nod in embarrassment. «I did know»

«Then why?»

«'Cause…» you swallow, burying your eyes more into the mug, scratching the cuticles skin out of the nails. «…a girl was required. For the mission»

«Hold on» Gaz grabs your shoulder, lowering his voice. It was a confidential subject, not the one to speak about in a crowded dining room. But he keeps on with his curiosity anyway. «It was about weapons traffic, wasn't it?»

You nod.

«Then why a girl?»

You're about to answer, your mouth's already open even if you're not sure if filling them with a temporary lie, or just spit the truth.

Another sudden press on your shoulder takes you off from every doubt.

A big hand grabs you firmly, squeezing skin and bones underneath your uniform. Your body instantly shivers, tightening under the hold. You raise your head a little, but you know whose mask you're gonna jump into.

Ghost has the magical power to bring back the silence. He doesn't even have to speak, just a glare of his is enough. His look hits Soap and Gaz as to say: shut your bloody mouth; and they just roll their eyes at the ceiling, as to say: but we wanna know 'bout her mission, damn it.

Then he lowers on you just that tiny bit that's needed to let you feel his body heat closer, so warm against your cold limbs.

«Your presence is required» he says quickly, almost murmuring against your ear.

And here you are, walking behind his massive figure with eyes lowered on the ground, following his feet at a security distance through the base. He stops a couple of times to talk with someone, moments in which you play camouflaging with the wall; then you two reach a door, and you're so into not-seeing in front of you that you don't even look at where you are. 

He closes the door behind you, and only after a few seconds of embarrassment you find the bravery to mumbling:

«W-who required me?»

«I do»

Your heart skips a beat before your ears could collect his voice and your synapsis could elaborate its meaning. That's when you suddenly raise your sight, finding him clinging on the desk while looking at you through the mask, and even if you can't see his face it's pretty clear that he's judging you. You can read it on the skull, as there's an imaginary -but very perceptible-  neon writing saying: You're a bloody stupid gnome.

Voice escape through your lips automatically: «I'm sorry»

«'Bout what?» he kinda calls you out, pressing with his sternness on your pathetic whimpers.    

Your eyes lower again.

«…causing trouble-»

«Just that?»

You nod. You don't wanna talk about what kinda trouble; but he does.

«Take off your shirt»

Your brain flashes a sudden error signal, allowing you to shiver and wrap your arms tight around yourself. 

«…sir?»

Stupid question. You know why he's asking, the goddamn doctor had probably told him.

«Your shirt» he repeats, not moving from his place.

Two days ago, you would have started a war about this, yelling at him without regrets, brave enough to fight against your superior like two children between one small bucket. 

Not now. Now you just stand in your special spot in the office, allowing your body to move just what is needed to breathe, eyes locked on the floor. You feel him growing impatient, sighing through the mask as you're disappointing him.

«'K. If that's so…»

The sentence remains hanging in the air, and in a matter of seconds, without getting aware of how fast he came toward you, his hands are on your shoulder. You instantly panic but you're too small to fight against his weight that's pushing you against the door, pinning you still with an hand on your breastbone while the other runs to your shirt's hem.

You grab his wrist in a stupid attempt at stopping him, but he lifts the shirt up in one movement, revealing bruises, a bloody bandage, and…a little scar slightly under the belly button, fresh from the oven and still shiny from some medical gel: the writing made out of fire burns on your skin in an elegant gothic style. 

He stares at it, contemplating that swallowed piece of tattooed skin. Your face becomes so red you could spontaneously combust in this exact moment.

«Who made it?» he burst out, whispering harsh words.

You swallow hot air, digging your dry throat and hoping that whatever's gonna come out of your mouth will be the most sensible as possible.

«It's…it…traffic wasn't just 'bout weapons»

«Humans» he talks over immediately. 

You nod your head, specifying with a swallow: «women» 

«You've sneak in as a good to be sold»

«There was no other way to-»

«And they've marked you» his voice's not that high, but you're whispering enough to make it easy for him to have the upper hand on you. You become quiet, avoiding his sight, with your hands still wrapped around his wrist.

«Are you proud?»

The question wasn't expected, spitted roughly through his mouth. You clench your digits, digging in his gloves.

Then you nodd.

«Yes» the answer is a breath, warmth by your boldness and the consciousness that you've done what had to be done. And none would have taken that awareness from you. You eventually lift your sight a little, meeting his mask, letting the skull shape fill your eyes.

«Yes, I am»

You know he's looking at you as if he's got an idiot under his sight. You feel him judging, investigating your behavior, interrogating your posture. And you, trapped between a scary giant and a door, with his cold glove pressed where your belly still hurts, you dare to stare at him for one whole minute.

It seems enough: he lets you go, shaking your hands away from his wrists as he stands in all of his height against you.

«Good soldiers come home alive, little gnome»

«…it's a curious scolding from one who lives a dangerous life»

«I've already told ya: you don't know me»

«But i'm neither deaf nor blind»

«Buy a bloody mirror then». He takes two steps back, letting you breathe freely for the first time since you've entered the room. «Ya can say you see us clear, but speaking of seeing yourself…I can't say the same»

«I know me»   

«It seems not»

Blood starts to rush to your brain as the embarrassment turns into a mixed spoonful of anger and bitterness. You follow him, still at security distance, toward his desk. «Why? 'Cause you've caught me touching myself once and I made one bloody moan?»

«'S not that, and we've already talked enough 'bout it» he mumbled, pretending to not pay attention as he looks through some documents on the table.

«Oh, oh sure! Now we've talked enough about it» your arms end up crossing on your chest. «after you've ripped my elbow»

«It was just a nerve»

«Judicially irrelevant» 

«Shut your bloody mouth»

«Why? 'Cause you've told me s-»

«Yes»

You freeze; that was a cold, hard stone order. He's got his knuckles clenched on the table, his back's muscles are visibly breathing under the pressure of maintaining a glint of calm. 

«You» he turns at you, pointing a finger at your freezed face «you are a goddamn idiot, one of the worst species. I've tried to convince myself you weren't actually so stupid but, damn god, was i right in the first place»

Guilt assaults you with a knife at your throat, for reasons you don't know. And you find your eyes lower, your spirit evaporated, your anger extinguished under his glare. You try to mutter:

«I've just done my duty-»

«You threw away your life»

«The mission had to be done, that was our last possibility to catch that damn illegal traffic» you rush, raising your voice to grow some confidence in your speech «Laswell needed a woman and i just did my damn work!»

And he almost barks back, raising stern and furious eyes at you: «than what 'bout asking someone more experienced, you bloody asshole?!»

«'Cause it was needed a woman with-!». You suddenly stop, biting your inner cheek as a last word slips, almost like a whisper, through your lips: «…inclinations»

He's left speechless for a while, standing in front of you with the finger still hanging toward your figure. You swallow; you know he's going to ask more, and that's just 'cause you can't keep your mouth shut.

As if you've called it, he spit out a terse: «Explain»

You sigh. This would be a great time to sink ten meters underground.

«I» you start gesticulating, drawing figures in the air with your hands «I am…i-»

You expect him to joke about your incapability of connecting two words together; but he remains silent, looking at you almost with curiosity. And you're forced to keep on talking.

«…I like certain things people don't usually…agree to do» you force words outside your mouth, with cheeks on fire and eyes buried on the pavement.

His conclusion wastes no time to come:

«You're a submissive»

It's not a question, it's a truth and it hits you like a brick in the face, as if he'd already understood your particular nature till the beginning. There's no need for more explanation: you know what kind of submissive he's referring to, and he evidently knows just enough about the subject to grin, just a little, under the mask.

«The target was known for his…peculiar sexual tastes». The additional clarification was not necessary, but he gives it anyway. He let out a soft chuckle, almost like he's having fun thinking about it. «I can't believe that Laswell really rely on this stupid trick»

You would really clarify how much Laswell fought against your will to volunteer for that risk, but your voice is gone under the embarrassment. Your digits are digging into cuticles again, and you're about to pretend to not exist, turn your heels and just go away.

And you don't even notice he's got closer again, till he forces your face up by roughly grabbing your cheeks in one hand. 

The disappointment is palpable.

«You've run into that perv's den alone, risking yourself for a mission you knew you couldn't handle…just to satisfy your throbbing cunt?»

That hit you worse than every other thing he's thrown at you till now. Your cheeks catch fire in his hands, guilt choke air in your lungs and poisonous butterflies eat your stomach, whispering through the entrails: he's right.

But you don't want him to be right.

«I've just decided to put every weapon I've got at your service» you spit out.

His grip gets tighter. «Sure thing. And what have you gained? Apart of a saving operation that wasted everyone's time, of course»

«Mission was completed»

«We would have found another way to do it, rookie»

«But I did it» you grab his wrist, trying again to escape from his hold. «And i'm alive, so why the hell are we even talking about-»

It happens all of a sudden: he pushes you again against the door, harder and roughly enough to make your spine squeak on it. You hold a yell, and one second after you can't breathe anymore.

He holds you by your mouth, pushing on your face with his whole hand open, while the other runs down right under your belly, squeezing on your crotch like it's made of play dough.

«This is no playfield». His voice is almost a growl murmur in your ear as he lowers enough to overcome you with his bigger body. «Soldiers have morals. And dignity. Maybe 's not clear to your pretty little brain. So: watch» and he speaks slowly, growling coldness with tongue maid of sharp metal, his eyes on you with that goddamn mask supply (and you're sure you're gonna dream about his sight forever) «your. Bloody. Mouth. Kitty» 

The nickname, the grip on your pants, the fact that you're breaking your personal apnea record…just burn your brain. And, in a loss of breath, trying so desperately to find a way out of that embarrassment while freezing your hormones that are already running too low on your body…

You bite him.

You sink your teeth in his glove as hard as you can, ripping off that goddamn dignity he was speaking about, letting the residual rage work as a fuel for your mouth. He suddenly jerks with a step back, catched by surprise, tearing his hands away, and to do so…he pushes with the other hand on your lower belly.

On your goddamn freshly engraved and barely healed tattoo.

On the scar the doc pleaded with you not to touch.

You spit his glove out of your mouth, yelling like your vocal chords have turn into a megaphone.

Ten minutes later, you two are waiting outside of the infirmary.

The knock on the door doesn't distract him, too focused pretending to find his paperwork attractive.

Price gets in without invitation.

«Just a word» he sits at the desk, usual hat at his place and cigar climbing from his lips «between me and you»

Ghost doesn't lift his sight.

«I've talked with doc-»

«I don't need to be scold 'bout it, if that's what ya'r here for»

Price sighs a low, maybe a little bit too paternal: «Ghost-»

«If you two» Simon raises his voice a little «believe in trusting every goddamn rookie, sending them risking their bloody neck just 'cause they've told you how good they are at shaking their ass-»

«You've already yelled about it, give my ears a rest. In any case, Laswell made the best choice in her position» Captain talks over him. «And I agree with her. We couldn't lose that opportunity, Simon»

«She didn't even managed to end the mission alone»

«But the rookie did a great job. Only problem was taking her out of that shit»

«You can't seriously call a kink exploitation one "great job"»

«She's a soldier. We're not here to babysit, risking our life 's part of our contract»

Silence. 

Price starts to get nervous, feeling some mixed emotions that he really can't stand at six in the evening. He suddenly stands up, patting both hands on the desk, taking a deep breath before exhaling a long, almost exhausted: 

«There's nothing bad in making friends with your allies…»

Ghost is already rushing an "i don't need friends" kinda sentence, but Price anticipates him:

«Me too, i've made friendships on the battlefield that i hope will last as long as my bones will walk on the dirt. Then, we could die together and be happy in whatever hell God'll decide to send us. But» and his "but" was final «i know what you're doing here. Stop it. It's gonna be draining, for the both of you»

Ghost spits out: «I'm doing nothin'», too rushed, then muttering: «Don't even like her»

«I don't care who you like. You can marry whoever you want, you've got my approval»

«For fuck's sake Price-»

«Wanna delete her from your eyesight? Just look straight in front of you from now on. Wanna keep an eye on her?» John raises his hands, throwing Ghost's embarrassment in the air while admitting with the most honest attitude: «Sure. Ok. I keep an eye on you all every goddamn minute of my life. She's not a princess, though. And ya'r not a bloody knight»

Silence becomes again the king in the office. Price is still fixed in his extreme openness, ready to give his Lt. the best suggestions on how-to-not end up again at the infirmary with that goddamn rookie (before the doc kills the both of them).

Then Ghost finally raises his gaze.

And Price has a bad s-.,ensation in his guts, almost like he'd said something he shouldn't have.

«Keeping…an eye on her» Simon repeats, lost in thoughts.

John nodds, hesitating before leaving the office.

..................................................