#as therapists. but i miss those times sometimes

[vulpinesaint]

throws a book at the wall i'm SO fucking tired of putting emotional effort into relationships only for it not to be reciprocated

[pepprs]

ok actually yeah. i really need to do dishes and go to bed and not stay up late mentalillnessposting a little too viscerally on tumblr the night before i facilitate a workshop in front of the literal president of the university and the vp of my division (LOL about that btw. actively shitting my pants.) but oh my GOD. so saying goodbye to lia was actually fine in the moment. neither of us cried and we talked about all the ways we’ll still be in each others lives and reasons we’ll have to interact in the near future. and she gave me an extremely heartfelt thoughtful gift and we left on a very hopeful note and i felt better and content bc there’s still the rest-of-life and we’ll see each other there. but like an hour before that as i mentioned i was HYSTERICALLY sobbing. in full view of people i know AND people i don’t. and i just sat there and sobbed while everything carried on around me. everything carried on around me!!! and i feel like im about to sob again thinking about it.

[probablyintensemuses]

Tiny Little Good Things-

A. Aretas

PAIRING: ARMANDO X READER

synopsis: You and Armando get sent on a mission to stop a vicious drugs and arms dealer. Chaos ensues and you two find out why the lines between love and hate are constantly blurring for you both.

theme(s): eventual smut (+18), gore and blood, cursing, graphic imagery, angst, enemies to lovers, Armando is a dick and really hot when he speaks Spanish.

warnings: there is smut in this fic as well as many bloody scenes, if you can’t handle either, I wouldn’t read on!

authors note: hi, yes I know this fic is long as shit, but I felt it was necessary for what unfolds. There is more than 12k words here, so sorry to all my short attention span people. ❤️love you, k bye!

word count: 12.5k

“Ramos Malik, age thirty-seven and Miami’s biggest up and coming arms and drug dealer.’ Kelly says, fingers gracing her iPad as she swivels through pictures, displaying them on the plasma screen ahead.

“He’s a big fucking problem. 3D printing' slugs that are hitting the streets faster than crack in the seventies.’ Mike Lowery, head of AMMO, interjects. “Shells the size of a thumbs, sharper than lions teeth, are being pulled out of rival gang members, bystanders, and law enforcement all around the city.”

You turn in your chair, pushing away from your computer screen. “So, how do we stop him?”

Dorn rounds the steel table, a slab of guns, gear, and tech, gently taking the iPad from Kelly’s hand, and you don’t miss the way she blushes. It’s cute, those two. Kelly and you had grown close ever since you joined AMMO as their new technical analyst months ago. Dorn gave up the position, wanting to be present in the field—mostly to have Kelly’s six—he and his therapist had been making great progress and he felt it was time to be more than the brawny guy in the chair.

So that lead to you taking over and eventually many girls nights full of red wine, cheese, and pillow talking. A slip of a wine-jaded tongue later and you were the first on the team to know of their love affair. Sometimes you desired to have that of your own, but life and fate, as Marcus would say, hadn’t given that to you yet.

“Good question, followed by an even better answer.’ Dorn sails and the screen changes and a new scene plays. “This is Moxy, a new club on the strip. It’s where Ramos Malik and his crew hang out. Rumor has it he’ll be there tonight, and we're going to bind him with a sting.”

Intrigued you stand. “You need me to make inconspicuous body cams, don’t you?’ You gasp and breath deeply, a smile spreading on your face. “God I love it when you guys want me to make inconspicuous body cams.”

Dorn coughs and Kelly looks off to the side, biting at her nails. Mike walks over slowly, slapping a hand onto both your shoulders.

“Now, we know how much our sweet little, non-violent, girl here loves to just stay in her lane and chill here while we get into all the bloody action.’ Mike massages your shoulders, displaying you off to the group like a fresh piece of wagyu. You scan the crew's faces—mischief, panic, fear—but the one that snipes you the most is the one of Armando Aretas. He sits perched on a table on the far side of the room, combat boot clad feet planted on a chair as his brown eyes pierce into you, sending tiny, invisible sparks flocking on your skin. You suck in a sharp breath and look away. He always stared, so why did it bother you now?

When your ears finally stop buzzing, you dial back into Mike's speech. “But this time, it’ll be different. You’ll be out in the field.”

As if you were just tased, you jut away from his grip. “What?”

“Ramos can sniff cops a mile away. It’s what makes him so good at what he does.’ Marcus cuts in. “He knows our faces, too. The only face he doesn’t know, is yours.”

You take another step back, heart racing, completely stupefied. “So you want me to go and trick that bastard…by myself?!”

“No! Never!” Mike says. “Armando will be with you.”

A clatter echos through the room, all eyes snapping to where Armando was sitting, the little black stool wobbling on the floor. “The fuck I will!” He growls.

Your eyes narrow and you jut your chin up. What the hell was he so mad for?

“Okay, son, calm down. It’s a simple sting operation. If you’re careful, it’s an in-and- out kind of thing.”

Armando circles close, and out of habit you cower behind the wall of Mike and Dorn. You may have a high IQ but you’re no match physically for anyone on this team, especially not Armando. You’ve seen what he can do countless times. He was the silent beast, he always just stared and hardly spoke. No matter how much you tried to warm up to him, make him feel accepted, you two just never clicked.

You thought it might just be his past, how he was manipulated by his father and lied to by his mother, that made him so closed off, but with the way fury rumbles off of him so strong right now, pushing you deeper into Dorn and Mike, it makes you think there’s more unspoken. And if so, what?

Caged between Mike and Dorn Armando finds your eyes again, scolding your cheeks hot with his glare. It was as if he needed you to not only hear his words but feel them too. “I’m not going on any mission with the princesa. All she does is type and sit in that fucking chair all day. It’ll be suicide.”

Mike takes his son's shoulder, massaging them similar to how he’d done your own. “She’s the only choice right now, okay? She’s just the arm candy to fill out the picture we’re setting for Malik, alright?”

For some reason his words— “just the arm candy?”and “the only choice right now,” —sting. You may not be skilled in the field or in combat, but you were vital to this team and you spent months trying to prove your strengths otherwise. When you first joined the team, everyone insisted on making you their baby bird, some wounded thing they needed to protect in a gilded cage. You were the new young and stary-eyed cop, and they are all jaded-old bags who need someone to shelter. It happened authentically and you still couldn’t shake the box they put you in. You aren’t helpless, you are capable and strong and maybe this is what you need, an opportunity outside to finally prove yourself.

“If he doesn’t want to do it, I’m sure there is someone else in the field we can find.’ A surge of confidence flushes through you as you push past the Mike-Dorn barricade, chin help up high with defiance as you brush past Armando. “Whatever the case, I’ll do it. I can do it. I’m capable Mike, so let’s see my cover.”

A smirk peels on Kelly’s face as she passes you your file. “Okay, Ms. Bad-ass. I’m loving this energy.”

Armando scoffs, planting himself next to you, his broad shoulders brush up against your frail ones. The slight gesture sends a hear through you. Quickly you scoot away, no need to sweat through a perfectly good cardigan over mean-ass Armando Aretas.

You flip through your file. You’ll be playing Jenna Combs. A twenty-six year old dancer and model who is the new girlfriend of—

“You hijos de puta’s got me playing myself?” Armando argues. “What kind of shit disguise is that?”

Dorn shrugs. “It’s not. That’s the point. The Aretas name is still feared and no one knows you’re in with the cops. It’s a pretty believable story, you need new armory and he can supply it.”

“Last anyone in this circles heard, you was killing cops and slinging a new dope empire. Just get em’ to confess to making this bullets and where he does it, so we can get em’ off the streets for good.” Marcus chimes in with a smile.

Armando’s grumbles a few curses under his breath before his attention turns and latches onto you. Suddenly you feel hot again, like a solar flares are swallowing you whole. Armando’s eyes rack over your form, slow and tentative.

His gaze latches onto your lips before he says, “And she’s supposed to be my date? Suicide mission.”

“For who? You or me? Because the way I see it, with your attitude you’ll be made in minutes.”

The gap between you and Armando closes in an instant. Your faces mere inches from each other. His cool breath trickles down the crest of your neck and frosts the tips of your ears when he whispers, “Careful when you speak to me, Princesa. You’ll be alone out there with me, and anything could happen to you.”

Was he…threatening you?

Your balls must have really dropped in the matter of minutes, because instead of keeping quiet and apologizing, like you normally would if you managed to anger Armando, you bite back.

“Stop calling me that.” You grit your teeth.

“¿Por qué, eh?’ Armando whispers, pulling back from you and taking a seat on a nearby stool. His eyes are drunk with a flavor you can’t distinguish. “Only princesas get to sit up in their castle all day, shielded, while everyone else goes out and does all the heavy lifting.”

“I never asked to be shielded!’ You stamp your foot, moving in on him with a swiftness. Armando invites your challenge with grace, folding his muscular arms slowly over his wide chest, watching you stalk nearer.

You don’t know how, but you find yourself in between him, his legs two thick gates around you. Where it should bother you, in the moment it doesn’t because It’s your turn to invade his space. In this moment, the great Armando Aretas doesn’t scare you.

You poke at his chest with each syllable. “Rather you like it or not, Aretas, this princesa is going on this sting with or without you, and I don’t give a shit what you think, not anymore. Cool?”

A small smirk pulls on his face as he peels your finger off his chest, the digit so small in his his hand, his movements making you keenly aware of your closeness.

“Cool.” He stands, boxing you in with his large build before brushing past you and walking out of the compound.

You watch as the last bits of daylight leave with him as the door slams closed. This confidence was like adrenal coursing through you and suddenly you felt tired and zapped, being strong is exhausting. You take a seat, pulling at a loose curl atop your head, thoughts burrowing into your mind like a splinter.

To this day, you couldn’t understand the hatred he had for you. In the begging, when Mike had negotiated a deal with the D.A’s office and the department to allow Armando to work for AMMO, not wanting his raw talents to go to waste, no one trusted him. But still, you gave him a chance, because you knew how it felt to be the underdog and you didn’t want the same for him. Still, in his own fashion, he warmed up to the others…but never to you. But maybe he was right, everyone else here has put so much of themselves of the line, risked it all for the greater good, and what have you done? Nothing. You haven’t saved anyone or changed a life. You’ve sat and watched from the comforts of the compound. Their eyes and ears, that’s all.

You push to standing and gather your file. You may not be the strongest, or fastest on the team, but you had strengths and you’d make use of them tonight for once, no matter what.

Suddenly snickers and chuckle fill the room, bouncing off the walls of your mind and bringing you back to the room glazed with the smell of oil and pinesol.

Marcus breaks through the laughter. “Next time you two want to engage in some foreplay, ask for the room first.”

Your skin nearly peels off at his words. You could burn alive right now.

You and Armando?

“Never would that ever happen.” You shiver at the thought of being with any man, let alone him.

Armando is a mean man. A mean man you suddenly have to trust you life with.

But if that’s the case. Why does your heart not fall to your feet at the thought?

###

“You’ve memorized your role, right?” Kelly asks, tightening the final fixings of your dress.

“Yes,’ you nod. “I’m Armando’s new girlfriend, Jenna. I don’t speak, I just sit quietly and listen. I shadow him, basically. Anything he does, I do.”

“Good girl.’ Kelly winks. “One last thing.’ She digs into her pockets before brandishing a small knife. “Here, just in case things go south.”

Your eyes widen and you nearly flinch. “I thought you and Mike said this was an easy in-and-out kind of deal.”

Kelly sighs. “Nothing like this is ever easy. All things have the potential to go south.’ She grabs your face in her hands. “I just want my girl safe, that’s all.”

Reluctantly, you accept the knife, shoving it into your purse. “What about Armando? Isn’t he supposed to protect me—I mean Jenna?”

“And he will,” Kelly assures. “But you can never be too sure.”

You nod. “Right, whose to say he won’t abandon me if shit oops off,” your snicker is laced with fear.

Kelly walks you out of the compound and toward the front where you’ll be meeting the rest of the team. “He won’t. Trust me.”

“He did allude to it early, Kels.”

Kelly rolls her eyes, stopping you and giving your curls one last fluff. “Aretas is all talk when it comes to you, don’t take him for a grain of salt.”

You frown. “What’s that supposed to be mean.”

Kelly smirks. “See for yourself.”

She steps out of the way and in the shinning exterior of Mikes Ferrari, you see yourself.

Do you look like a slut, yes, but nonetheless gorgeous.

Your curls are loose and defined, a cascade of shea butter and hibiscus around you. Your makeup is layered, yet light, elevating your high cheekbones, wide lips, and honey-brown eyes. And your plum colored dress pops against your warm-brown skin, somehow making even your thin body look full and figured.

You look fucking hot.

And for the first time in forever, you feel fucking hot.

Apparently you’re not the only one who thinks so as a whistle breaks loose in the yard.

“Goddamn girl!’ Mike claps. “If I wasn’t some old dog, I’d ask you on a date myself.”

“I’ll keep my comments to myself,’ Marcus smiles. “You know Theresa be listening.” He looks over his shoulders, head on a swivel.

“Dorn don’t say a word.” Kelly scolds her boyfriend, Dorn holds his hands up in defense.

“Staying silent.” He whimpers.

Your cheeks flush. “Stop, you guys.” You giggle. “This was all Kelly, besides you know I look better in a cardigan and jeans.”

“I agree.” A voice emerges from the darkness. A wide berth breaks before you as Armando strolls over.

Your throat goes dry and suddenly your head is dizzy with a feeling hard to explain, as you take him in.

He’s fresh with a new hair cut, faded low on the sides and thick, raven black up top. His beard is full and more manicured, enunciating the sharp cuts of his jaw.

He’s graced in a suit, black-on-black. The undershirt unbuttoned exposing much of his chiseled chest and the gold, cross necklace that dangles there. His suit jacket fits perfectly over the swells of his biceps and his pants expose every aching muscle in his thigh.

Like gravity, it’s hard to pull your eyes away from him. But somehow you become the void of space and manage to.

You can’t say the same for him though, because despite his insults that same burning, tingling sensation finds its way tip-toeing down your back and to the swell of your ass. One quick spin and you catch Armando’s eyes lifting from your backside to face you.

“I thought I looked better in a cardigan?” You say, breathing heavy.

Was he just? No…

Armando swings open the passenger door for you. “Get in.” He grumbles.

Not wanting to test his patience, you oblige, taking a step into the Farrier.

Armando closes the door behind you before climbing into the passenger side.

At the window, Mike approaches.

“Get in ask Ramos about the bullets, say you heard about them from word of mouth and you’re interested in them. You’ll pay top dollar. Once he confirms he can give them to you, we’ll move in. Got it?” Mike explains to Armando before turning his attention to you. “And for you, just be silent, pretty, and say nothing, okay?”

“Won’t be hard for her.” Armando grumbles as he starts the car.

You roll your eyes, ignoring his comment. “You guys will tail us, right.”

Dorn nods. “You should be fine though, you’ve got Armando.”

Armando reeves the engine, slowly idling off and away from your friends. And for some reason, when you whip off, you can’t help but wonder if he was right. This was a suicide mission, just not for him.

Fuck.

###

The drive is silent and smooth. You really could see why Mike insisted on such expensive cars, they rode well.

Your heel-clad feet tap against the bottom of the car, humming a tune in your head, making you realize just how much this ride needed some music.

Slowly, you turn to face Armando. His eyes are focused on the long road ahead, his jaw is clenched and he doesn’t seems to be paying you the slightest bit of attention.

As smooth as you can be you carefully lift your hand up and turn on the radio. Soon enough Ariana Grandes, The Boy is Mine, blasts from the radio.

You squeal and find a small groove with your fingers against your purse, humming the lyrics and bopping your head to the beat. The song is just reaching its second run through the chorus when the radio goes dead.

You turn, seeing Armando’s hand leaking from the controls. Annoyed, you give him a look before turning the radio back on, louder this time.

Armando’s jaw clenches tighter, like he might actually collapse through it with his bite force. He slams the radio off…again.

This time you don’t bite your tongue.

“Would you stop doing that!” You shout.

“No.”

“Why not? I was listening to that.”

“I don’t care. I need to focus.” Armando grumbles.

“Focus on what?”

“I don’t know, Princesa, making sure we both come out of this alive, because I damn sure can’t count on you to do that.”

His words bite, but if he wants to play a snake you have venom for him. “Why don’t you like me, huh? What have I ever done to you?” You hide.

Armando stays silent, his knuckles whitening as his grip strengthens on the steering wheel.

You snap at him. “I’m not talking to myself, Armando. Why do you hate me, huh?!”

“Cállte!” He shouts

You don't know much Spanish, but you’ve heard him say it enough to know it’s time to walk away from the conversation.

So you do, resting your head against the window seal, counting the number of streetlights you see flash and shimmer as you zoom by.

When you were younger your mother couldn’t afford fancy candles so she used a flashlight instead. You imagine the streetlights as just that, wishing that one day you’d know what you did to anger Armando so much.

Not soon enough, the car comes to a halt. The only sounds filling the cabin are those of Armando undoing his seatbelt.

Annoyed, you don’t even look at him as he speaks. All he’s done is tear you down in the past few hours, you’re done giving him the energy you need to conserve.

“When we go inside, don’t say a word. I don’t care how many questions he throws your way, you don’t say shit. Am I clear?”

Slowly, you turn towards him. Your mouth is scrunched and your eyes filled with no sympathy for the devil in front of you.

“Crystal.” You whisper, venom leaking off your tongue as you speak.

Armando’s chest rises and falls as he takes in your anger. He squeezes Mikes keys between his hands, and you you really do your best to ignore the heat that unfurls inside of you when he bites his plump lip between his teeth and runs a hand over his dark, full beard.

You adjust in your seat, because despite his constant cold front, It looks as if he has something to say. You wait in contemplating silence, the only sounds in the cabin being your breathing and Armando’s hesitant taps on the keys.

Part of you just wants to go in a get this over with and never speak to him again, but another part is desperate for him to say something meaningful to you. Something like the things you say to him before a mission.

“Don’t die.”

“Come back in one piece.”

“Be careful.”

“We should all have pizza when you come back.”

You knew how scary things could get on missions and you just wanted your team to know you were there, to take away even a slither of the darkness clouding them in that moment. And for your first time, you thought Armando might do the same—say something meaningful—but he doesn’t.

In a flash he’s out of the car, handing the keys over to valet, threatening them about what will happen if any scratches and dents are found.

You take in a deep breath and look down at the camera, disguised as a gold necklace resting above the cut of your breast.

“You guys getting all this?” You whisper, stepping out of the car.

“Do you mean Moxy, or your fight with Hotmando?” Dorn says over the earpiece.

You come to a halt. “Shit, I’m sorry guys. I’ll keep it professional, okay. From here on out, I won’t let him get to me…that’s not what’s important.”

“Good, get in and come back to us. I need my girl and our wine down Sundays.” Kelly says.

You smile, making your way over to wear Armando stands at the mouth of the nightclub, hoping he heard your words.

The sour look on his face as you walk through the door he holds open for you—sure to flip my hair as you do, giving him a nice taste of your leave in conditioner—tells you he certainly did, and perhaps he didn’t like what you had to say, but nonetheless…

He wont bother you anymore. Not tonight, at least.

Inside Moxy tore hit with a wave of a scent that nearly makes you gag—weed, sweat, and criminal activity. The club its self is large in scale, high ceilings with rope dancers stringing off the tops and flashing red and blue lights melting to make a purple haze over the club. Smoke and bubble guns are in constant effect and you’re pretty sure you can feel the bass of Wiz Khalifa’s Black and Yellow in your thoracic cavity.

From what you can see there are three floors, the first and second appear to be where the actual clubbing takes place. You watch the sweaty bodies corralled into dance floors, babbling nonsense either too drunk or too high for their own good.

But above, on the third, it is caged in and covered by glass. Yellow lights, different from the multi-colored ones below, remain at a halt and big , burly men with guns at their hips wander the halls. No doubt looking to take out any threat that comes for their boss—Ramos Malik.

“The glass. It’s bullet proof.” Armando says, eyeing the scene above, just as you do.

You would praise him for the impressive catch. But you’re Jenna now, and Jenna doesn’t speak.

“Any sign of Malik?” Mike asks.

“Not yet,’ Armando places a hand on the small of your back, making you flinch. “But we’re about to find out.”

Never moving his hands from your waist, Armando guides the two of you through the sweaty pillage of bodies and towards the elevators.

The ride up is quick, quiet. That’s not shocking. But what is shocking, as soon as the elevator comes to a screeching halt, Armando grabs your hand in his, completely engulfing your own with his size.

The burning sensation wraps up your wrist and shoots straight to your cheeks where you flush.

“What are you doing?” You gasps, trying to pull away. You did not sign up for this kind of role play.

Armando turns to look at you. “If you’re my girlfriend, we’ve got to play the part. Other than that you just look like someone who I brought out on a hit with me.” He squeezes your hand.

You suck in a deep breath at the motion, looking away.

“What’s wrong, princesa? This too much for you?” For a second, you thought he meant the fact that he was holding your hand, and in that case he wouldn’t be wrong, but soon enough the doors open and you shortly realize what he means.

The two burly men from early, dapper in black and white suits, wait outside the elevator, fingers in the triggers of their guns.

“Aretas.’ They nod, tuning your attention to you. “Whose this?”

“My girl, Jenna.” Armando says, gruffly.

One of the men nods, motioning you forward. You swallow, backing up a bit, hesitant on what to do.

Armando nudges you forward. “Esta bien bebe.”

You nod and walk towards them. They grab you up, calloused hands running up and down your body, and your pretty sure they linger to long on your untouchables on purpose.

Sweat begins to pile in your hands as a thought burst into your mind. What would happen if they found the knife Kelly gave you? She’d shoved it in a pretty good spot, but still, these guys were being thorough…and not in a good way.

You make eye contact with Armando as one of the guards continues to fill you up with what feels like excessive force.

In a blur, Armando pushes off the wall with his foot, slapping a hand on the guards shoulder.

“She’s clear, eh?”

The guard nods.

Armando grips his collar and pulls him in close. “The why the fuck are you still touching her, hm?”

The guard swallows, fear evident in his eyes.

“Just covering the bases, that’s all, sir.” He whimpers.

“Cover the bases again like that with my girl, and I’ll cut your fucking hand off and feed it to your other fat fuck of a friend.” Armando notions to the guard behind.

The guard nods and swallows, caressing his hand.

“The boss is this way,” he guides us with a motion.

Armando grips your hand once more, leading your down the long hallway.

“You okay?” He asks, holding his gaze forward.

You look up at him, even in heels he still manages to be taller than you. “Don’t pretend to care.” You scoff.

That makes him halt, conjoined with him you have no choice but to face each other. His mouth opens and closes like a fish, yet no words come out.

You roll your eyes, looking past his shoulders. Inside the bright room, you can see a shadow of Ramos. “Let’s just get this over with.” You say.

Armando’s gaze lingers on your longer than you’d like, giving you the shivers despite the fire leaking off him.

Soon enough, he pushes open the door and you follow behind him.

The room is small, club girls linger around either serving drinks or being felt up on. Ramos’s men, stand at each corner of the room searching for the next threat to their boss. Luckily they haven’t figured it is you yet.

“Armando Aretas,” Ramos claps his hands, jumping off of the white couch he’s sat on.

He stalks over, cigar between his lips, and you take him in. He is nowhere near as stalky as Armando, and his curly blonde hair is put up into a bun, exposing the undercut beneath. You can’t catch the colors of his eyes because they are covered by dark, Fendi shades.

His business definitely makes money, and lots of it. His three piece black and burgundy suit screams it all.

“To what do I owe such great pleasures?” He bows, lifting your hand up and placing a kiss on the back. “That goes for you too, sugar.”

Armando squeezes your hand a bit tighter at the pet name. You want to bite back and tell him to go easy, but you’re on stage now, and for your own safety and his, it’s best if you don’t break the act.

“I’m in the business of buying something from you. Streets are hot down in Mexico right now, and I need to establish some new territories…with a little force.” Armando says smoothly, sometimes you forget he was a hardened criminal not too long ago.

Ramos clicks his tongue between his teeth. “Ah. Come sit.” He motions you two over to one of his coaches.

“Good job. Keep em’ talking.” Mike says over the coms.

Armando takes a seat across from Ramos and you do the same.

A chuckle leaves Ramos’s lips. “I don’t think your pet likes you very much,” he motions to the space between you two.

Armando smacks his lips. “Nonsense. Ven aquí, bebé.”

You swallow and scoot towards him. When you’re close enough, in one swift moment, Armando’s slips you in his lap, running a rough hand up and down the exposed parts of your thigh, sending shivers down your spine and goosebumps all over your body.

What the hell was happening.

Ramos chuckles, pouring himself and Armando a drink. He pushes it across the glass table, just out of reach.

Armando gives your ass a light slap, you turn and flare your nose, giving him your best “don't push it,” it glare.

He ignores it.

“Tráeme eso, mamá.” He says, motioning towards the glass.

You pick up the tumbler, suddenly realizing what he’s playing at. Ramos is watching because he isn't convinced. So you suck up your pride and do some convincing.

You grip Armando by his chin, rubbing the pad of your thumb in circles over his gruff beard before putting the glass against his lips, assisting him as he drinks.

Never once do his eyes leave you as he swallows the amber liquid, and the shivers that were once in your spine travel lower, much lower. You have to blink away the awful, dirty thoughts of you being in place of the glass out of your mind as you swipe away the spillage off his beard and plump, pink lips.

When you turn, Ramos’ shoulders drop and his smile is so wide it’s nearly reckless.

“So you’re in the business of buying my most popular product from me?”

“That’s right.” Armando says, a hand still caressing you slow and smooth.

“I am curious, though,’ Ramos takes a swig of his drink. “How did you hear about it?”

Armando shifts, the movement forcing you closer to his center. Your eyes go wide as saucers, your new position doing nothing for the growing pain massing within your heat.

“I’m an Aretas. Nothing in the streets goes past my ears…nothing.” Armando's confidence radiates off of him.

“Very well,” Ramos chuckles. “Let’s establish two parameters of this deal, then. One, you pay me before I give you any product. Two, you get caught with my product, you don’t tell a soul who you the fuck got it from. Sounds good?” He smiles.

Armando nods. “Just one thing,’ his hands enclose over your hips, sliding you off to the side, as he leans forward. “How do you make them? The bullets.”

Ramos frowns. “Why? You trying to steal my swag or something, Aretas?”

Armando chuckles. “Nah, just curious.”

“Feed his ego, he’s going to talk.” Kelly says.

“I mean, they're sharp, large, fast, quiet. It’s impressive. I just want to know how you do it before I invest any of my money into it.” Armando leans back, arms spread in a wide arch on the back of the couch.

“In our world now, with a little money, the right connections, and a fuck ton of fortitude, anything you can think of is a possibility.’ Ramos says, lighting another cigar. “It’s rare and hard to get everything right. But if you really want to know how I do it,’ he leans in, voice dropping to a whisper.

Armando does the same, you make the conscious effort not to. Instead you play with your necklace, making sure the camera catches his face and his face only when he confesses.

“It’s a three—,”

A sudden buzz swallows the conversation whole, swirling it down the dirty sink it had come up from. The buzz echoes once more before you realize where it comes from…your purse

Fuck.

Ramos straightens, likes a dog on guard, eyeing you fiercely. Your chest rises and falls with a weight heavier than gravity as your ringtone continues to blare out for everyone to hear.

Ramos licks his lips, like he’s hungry for what comes next. “Well don’t be shy, Ms. Jenna, answer the phone.”

You swallow and tuck a curl behind your ear. “I don’t think that’s appropriate right now. Let’s just finish up the deal—“

In a blur of fury, Ramos stands brandishing a gun, pointing it right at your chest.

“Make you perra answer the fucking phone, or I put holes in you both.”

“Answer the phone,” Mike calls to you. “Do what he asks.”

Armando gives you a cautious look as you slip your phone out of your purse. Your fingers are shaking, so answering takes a few tries but when you finally do get it, you see that it’s your sister calling.

“Make sure it’s on speaker too.” Ramos demands, clocking his gun.

You inhale deeply, press the speaker button, then answer, “Hey, sister, this isn’t really a good time.”

“Hey, I know you’re probably working late and all, but this is kind of important. My routers are not really working and I have a date with that guy, David, I told you about and I really need my tv to work.” She explains.

You bite your lip and lick the sweat that forms around them. “Have you tried turning your tv on and off again? You know I’m not really a whiz at that tech stuff.”

A pause, then your sister erupts in laughter. “Girl, are you high?’ She laughs. “You’ve been messing with wires and the internet since we were kids. That’s the whole reason twelve wanted you anyways”

Your hear sinks the moment she says those words, you hang up because the last thing you want is for your sister to hear you die.

“Well fuck me, Jenna, I’ll be damned.” Ramos growls, pushing his gun into your skull.

You pierce your eyes shut, brace for the burning impact of the bullet and pray for a quick death.

But it never happens, instead in a swift motion Armando pushes you off to the side causing you to collapse onto the ground. He makes a quick sweep of his leg, sending Ramos crashing onto his ass and the bullet that was meant for you soaring up and hitting the rafters, lodging into some wood.

Your breath is heavy as you watch all out war unfold before you. Armando takes on five men at once. The first man takes two tumblers over the head and one shard of glass to the neck, scarlett liquid oozing from the wound before he drops like dead weight beside you.

You let out a scream, backing away from the scene that moves like a riptide before you.

“Get out of there, now!” Kelly screams in your ear.

“I—I can’t just leave him!” You shout back.

“You have no training! We’re coming in, go, now!” Mike yells.

You gather yourself, undoing your heels, still watching Armando skillfully take out guys and keep clear of the gunshots that ring in the tiny room. You watch as he dropkicks one man, then shoots him in the face before stalking over to another man, dishing out a few punches, before finally gutting him with a knife.

He’s still on the move when you finally slip out of your heels. More of Ramos’s men are filing in and the fight expands,moving from the small room you were just in into the hallway where any innocent person could be hurt.

Unlike most times you weren’t in your gilded chair. You were in the field and you would help as many people as you could. So, you don’t think, you let the adrenaline cloud you as you bound down the hallway in hopes to get back downstairs and direct clubbers from the chaos.

Setting the golden elevator in your sites, you push faster. People below were already screaming, running wild. Who knows what could happen? How many people could be trampled and hurt. This only fuels you, quickening your stride. You nearly make it but a gunshot slows you, and the body of a bleeding girl drops before you, putting you into a full halt.

“Oh my god,” your voice is breathy and shaky.

“Why are you still in there!” Dorns’ voice becomes a far void as you rip at the bottom of your dress and use the fabric to compress her wound.

Two gunshots to the chests. The girl, who can’t be any older than yourself, gurgles blood which sprays onto her porcelain skin and leaks into her brown hair, sticking strands to the marble floor.

The girl coughs, sending blood splattering onto the side of your face, and claws at your arms, streaks of crimson standing out against your brown skin.

She murmurs, but it’s hard to hear.

You press deeper into her wounds. “Shh, it’ll be alright,’ You tell her “guys, I need a medic on the third floor when you get here. She’s…she’s in really bad shape.” You whimper.

The girl whines again, her eyes open and closing in two second intervals.

she raises her arm pointing a shaking finger in the direction behind you.

You wipe your eyes, blood no doubt trailing on your face now.

“What?” You croak. “What is it?” You turn around and see Ramos Malik limping over to you, a large knife in his hand.

You stand, putting distance between him, yourself and the girl.

“You’re a real bitch, you know that?’ An injured Ramos says, limping toward you with his knife pointed. “Trying to get me caught up in some trap, but you weren’t even smart enough to shut off your phone!” He screams, lunging at you with the knife.

You tumble backwards, your back and head hitting the marble floor with the weight of you both. You cry out as pain sears through you, especially your hand.

It takes you a moment of readjusting to the bright lights and sounds to realize why. You caught the fucking knife in your hand.

You scream, as Ramos pulls it from your palm in a slice. Your hand open and bleeding, you cry out and roll away from another vicious attack by Ramos.

He growls and lunges at you again, grabbing a tuft full of your curls. You beat at his legs with your good hand, squirming in his grip. He pulls at your hair, making you scream, lowering his knife to your neck, pressing inward.

You let out an animalistic scream, pressing your thumb into the oozing wound on his leg. He screeches, falling to his knees.

Wasting no time, you crawl away.

You think you’ve gotten far enough.

You rise up on your knees and push the elevator button, but the cold hand on your ankle snatches you back.

You claw at the marble floors, leaving a trail of blood, as Ramos drags you like a rag doll. He stops, flipping you over and planting his weight on top of you.

You flail, kicking the ground and scratching at his face, desperate for him to let go. But he doesn’t. Instead, he cages you with his legs and wraps both hands around your neck, applying so much pressure that your vision blurs.

Under his grip, your breaths become distant and faint. Your muscles relax, and your eyes bulge. Turning your head to the side, you can barely make out the flashing blue and red lights from outside.

The team is here. But you're not sure they'll find you in time because Ramos is relentless, and the air in your lungs is vanishing. Your skull feels like it’s being crushed, the pressure intense.

You feel yourself slipping away, losing focus on your surroundings. Ramos moves your head to face him, and he’s a mass of incoherent clouds above you, the only clear thing are his dark, empty eyes.

“Look at me, baby. I like my victims to look at me before they die,” he growls, spit slipping from his mouth. “I hope Aretas finds you like—”

Ramos drops, and oxygen rushes back into your lungs like a clap of thunder.

You shudder on the ground, scraping at your neck and slapping your chest.

Warm hands engulf your cheeks, and it takes a minute for the blur to leave your vision. When it does, you see Armando before you, a smoking gun at his side.

“¿Estás bien, mamá?”

His voice barely registers before oxygen slips from your lungs again, and you slump over, hitting the ground.

Armando scoops you up, and even though it should be a relief, you can’t help but be saddened by the way your team jumps over the girl you couldn’t save.

Darkness swallows you whole as your team swarms you and Armando.

###

“The stitches will dissolve on their own in time as your wound heals itself.’ Kelly says, tightening the last of the bandages on the hand Ramos had sliced.

“Thanks, Kelly.’ You smiled softly, rubbing at the soreness that still lingered all over your body, especially your neck.

Ramos and his men had been arrested, not on the charges the team had planned, but still, getting him locked away for attempted murder of a police officer and soliciting drugs would have to be good enough for now.

Kelly rubs your shoulders, a soft sigh leaving her lips. “I’m really sorry this happened to you,’ she says, eyeing your injuries, the bandages on your knees and hands, the purple-ish bruise on your neck, and the small scratches and scrapes all over your body. You definitely weren’t as hot as you were that night.

“It’s okay.” You smile. “I’m still here, so.” You shrug.

“You were brave that night, saving that girl. We’re all so proud of you.” Kelly says.

You shake your head. “But I didn't save her, Kels. She died. Right there, she bled out.’ Tears start to rim your eyes as the memories of the girl and her blood in your hands flare in your mind. “Fuck,” you cover your eyes with your palms. “I could hardly save myself that night…if it wasn’t for Armando, I’d be dead.”

You sniffle, taking a seat on a nearby stool. “I’m not cut of for the field, and I don’t think I should ever do it again.”

Kelly swarms you. “No. Don’t say that.’ She shakes her head. “We’ve all been there, helpless, but that’s why we’re a team. We cover each other's six when shit gets rough. So don’t feel bad, we won’t let you.”

You nod slowly, trying to let her words penetrate your soul so that you could really believe them. But right now, you couldn’t. You put everyone at risk because you made a rookie mistake by leaving your phone on.

You were to blame for all the carnage, all the bloodshed and chaos.

Armando was right, it was a suicide mission. And it was all your fault.

Kelly’s phone ringing thrusts you out of your thoughts.

She reads the screen number and looks at you. 'I got to go,’ she motions. “But if you need me, call me, seriously.”

You nod and wave her goodbye. You turn and fully expect to hear the compound's heavy, steel doors slam shut and lock, but they never do.

On high alert you turn and meet eyes with Armando. He’s in his typical black on black, head to toe. The only thing different about him is the white bandage covering the bulge of his arm.

You try not to stare too hard at the way his black shirt clings to his body, flexing every taunt muscle as he strides down the steps and towards you with a force.

Refocusing, you work on the project at hand—Dorns broken drone. You mesh wires together and a spark comes alive, something like the sparks you feel when Armando takes a seat next to you, leaving up against the steel work table.

“So that’s it, eh?” He says, staring at you. “Gonna ignore me.”

You keep fussing with your wires. “Not sure there is much to say.”

Armando chuckles bitterly. “I’m sure I could find some words. How about we start with, lo siento or soy un maldito idiota.”

You slam down your tools and turn to face him, fire blazing in your eyes. “I don’t even know what the fuck you just said.” You growl.

Armando stands, towering over you. “I’d be happy to translate for you, princesa. It means you fucked up and cost alot of people their lives.”

You flinch at his words, more reality of your mistake clouding over you. “You don’t think I know that? I’ve regretted my mistake every night when I cry myself to sleep because all I can see is that girl's face.

Your voice wavers. “Her blood.”

“If you feel like that then you should have listened to me when I told you that mission was suicide.” He growls.

“Fuck you.” You spat, walking away.

Armando catches your forearm, pulling you back towards him. “I’m not done, so don’t walk away from me.”

“Let me the hell go!” You try jerking from his grip but it’s no use, you’re stuck, stuck taking his abuse.

“No, you need to know that it was your fault out there. That your place is in the chair,’ he motions to your desk behind you. “You can’t handle the field, you’re not built for it.”

The need to prove him wrong boils in your gut causing you to lift your hand and swing it out towards Armando’s face.

Bad idea.

He catches your arm with ease and now both your limbs are in his hands. You try to snatch away, but Armando keeps you steady, pulling you closer until the two of you are breaths away from each other.

The heat in your chest spreads like wildfire as you watch Armando’s eyes linger on your bruised lips, then trailing down slowly to your hands and legs, accessing all your injuries as if they matter to him.

“Besides,’ he trails on, his index finger glazing cautiously over the ring bruise on your neck. “If it wasn’t more me out there, princesa, you’d be dead.”

“I didn’t think…”

“That’s the point,’ Armando holds you steady. “You didn’t think, and you not using your head almost got you killed. And if you would have died I—.”

There's a quivering pause in Armando’s voice, his eyes slam shut tight. You don’t know what to make of this, one second he hates you and the next he cares if you’re dead or not. Armando is a mystery you’re too tired to decode.

You jerk from his grasps once more and this shocks his eyes back open.

“Are you done?” You manage to say.

Armando licks his lips, slowly releasing you from his grasp.

“I’m done,’ he says, backing away from you.

You hold onto the steel table for support, the scorch of his touch slowly fleeting.

You hear the steel door crack open and turn to watch him leave, but he’s halted at the precipice, “One last thing, stay in the chair next time. It’s where you belong.”

With that he leaves, the steel door slamming shut and your confidence crumbling down.

You tried your hardest to not let Armando affect you, but he does. His words cut you deeper than Ramos’s knife. Maybe he was right, maybe you should just stay in the chair. But what if there was another time they needed you in the field? Could you just say no without feeling immense guilt? Probably not.

So when you write your resignation and leave it on your desk and walk away from the compound, you do it because you can’t stand to see the people you care about get hurt, all because you’re not a good enough cop.

###

“Okay, seriously! Are you really going to be that stupid and go back into the house where you know the killer is! Come on Noah!” You shout at your television screen.

It’s been a week since you put in your resignation and the amount of discourse behind it has resulted in you shutting off your phone and locking yourself inside, watching shitty horror movies to pass the time.

Because if you step foot outside, you’ll be mobbed by friends from the department and your friends from AMMO who, to say the least, weren’t happy about your resignation.

All but one.

Not that he mattered anyway.

They all hated that you quit, saying you needed to come back immediately and talk this out. But you couldn’t.

How could you face them when you were such a coward and created all that chaos? They worked so hard to save lives and keep order and you did nothing but fuck shit up.

It was time to jump ship before someone else got hurt in the crossfires of your neglect.

The thought pushes you deeper into your plush green couch that sits far back into your home, well renovated garage. But hey, Miami is expensive, and this place was renting out, so you just renovated it. A little love all around and it became an actual home.

You let loose a small smile looking around, the walls, once bare and industrial, now are splattered with a lively palette of bright yellows, deep blues, and playful greens. They are decorated with framed posters of all the things you love: vintage video games, classic sci-fi movies, and beloved comic book covers, each one a nod to your past. Strings of fairy lights crisscross the ceiling, casting a soft, whimsical glow that contrasts beautifully with your high-gear equipment scattered throughout.

Your floor is a patchwork of colorful rugs, each with its own story. Some are intricately patterned, those are the ones your parents gifted you, while others are simple yet bold, adding a splash of color to the room. Together, they might be your favorite part of the whole place, just because they keep your bare feet warm on lazy nights like these.

In one corner, a plush, oversized bean bag chair sits next to a low coffee table cluttered with all your retro memorabilia – old gaming cartridges, Rubik's cubes, and a couple of well-worn graphic novels.

The heart of your home garage is the tech haven. Your large, custom-built desk stretches along one wall, supporting your impressive army of monitors in various sizes. High-end computers hum quietly, their cases glowing with neon lights. Cables and wires, though numerous, are neatly organized, snaking their way through the room in an orderly fashion.

Shelves above and around the desk hold a treasure trove of tech gadgets and components – everything from VR headsets and drones to soldering kits and spare parts. A 3D printer sits in a place of honor, its latest creation still cooling on the print bed.

Your home made you feel complete, but still after you quit you do feel a little empty. You miss the small talks at work, the laughter, the bickering, the teasing. It just wasn’t the same alone. But again, it was for the best, because if there is one thing you know—keeping your family safe is the most important thing, above all.

And you’d hate to be their reckoning.

Flipping open your laptop you continue to scroll through your job search.

“What do you think, Chester?’ You say to your golden retriever. “Tech support job? Or maybe we go dark and get into hacking for higher companies.”

Chester whines, fidgeting in his spot next to you.

“You’re right, no going bad. Tech support it is.’ Chester rummages around a bit more before springing over your coach, darting towards the door. “Hey, I can work from home with this one!” You say.

Chester’s barks ring out, bouncing off the walls relentlessly.

You stand and make your way over to what’s got him so riled up. At the door, you bend down and pet him, still doing nothing to soothe his barks.

“Chessy, what’s wrong, huh?” You grab his collar, pulling him towards the door and opening it.

You stick both your heads out the door, turning them left and right, the only thing you see and hear is darkness and the bad storm slamming outside. You pull back inside and Chester sticks to you like glue. “See, nothing to worry about.’ You squat down to love on your dog, who's growling like crazy right now. “We aren’t like Noah, we don’t go into scary houses for fun. We’re safe here, Ramos is gone. ” You pat his head, but that only makes him bark more.

“Chester, enough already.” you stand, moving towards the kitchen and getting yourself a glass out of the cabinet, flicking on the sink, and filling it with water.

Your just about to take a sip when a loud crack of lighting explodes, illuminating your dark house, revealing a cloaked figure behind you.

You scream and drop your cup, shards exploding on the ground around your feet. Chester is in a full on frenzy right now, and rightfully so. Could this be Ramos’s men, did he send them to finish you off?

“You’re one crazy bitch, you know that?”

“Look at me, baby. I like my victims to look at me before they die.”

You scrape at your neck, the tender bruise making you hiss as if the pressure of Ramos choking you has never left.

The figure steps forward and you screech, ripping a butcher knife from your kitchen sink, and pointing it at them.

“Back the fuck up!” You scream. “I’m a fucking cop!” You take wobbly steps back, watching Chester go up the figure and sniff them…then roll over?

Chester by no means is an aggressive dog, but he loves you, and if he sensed you were in danger he’d protect you with his life. So when he begins to receive pets from the intruder, you lower your knife.

“Kelly?” You say, she knows Chester, you’ve brought him to the compound many times before, but she’s the only one on your team who has a key to your place.

The figure doesn’t answer, they just move over to the corner of the kitchen, flipping on the light.

Your shoulders drop the moment you see his thick beard and warm-brown skin peeking from underneath his black hoodie.

Armando.

“How the fuck did you get in?” You cross your arms over your chest.

Armando shrugs off his jacket, tossing it onto your kitchen stools. “It’s not exactly a place with state of the art security.”

“I could have killed you, Chester too.”

Armando snickers. “You and your pooch wouldn’t have done a thing.”

You grumble, crossing the kitchen landscape and moving towards the coaches. “What do you want, you're interrupting my movie night.”

Armando follows, hot on your trail. “I can see that. By the way, is that hello kitty on your pajamas?”

You look down and groan. Of course you’d be wearing something totally embarrassing when your least favorite ex-coworker breaks into your house.

“Stop switching the subject. Why are you here?”

Armando rustles in his pocket before pulling out a paper and shoving it into your hands.

You’re careful to unfold it because there is rain damage from the storm, but when you get it open, despite the smooshed ink on the page, you see it’s your resignation letter.

“Okay, and?” You shrug.

“Okay, and, take it back.” He says.

You chuckle. “You’re joking, right. Like you have to be joking.”

Armando’s face is straight. “I’m not.”

You plop down on your couch. “I’m not taking it back, I'm already looking at different jobs.”

A scoff leaves his lips. “So that’s it, eh? You’re just going to run away.”

You close your eyes and let out a deep sigh. “Weren't you the one who told me I should quit?”

“I never said that. I said you needed to stay in the chair, and still, you did the opposite of that.” He says.

You stand. “What’s the point of saying I’m a cop, if I don’t actually save people. You said that entire night was on me, so I backed away from the situation and now you’re mad?”

Armando sits quietly for a moment, tapping his leg against the ground. “I never said quit.”

“It doesn’t matter what you said. I did what I felt I needed to do.”

Armando scoffs, turning in his seat. “Yeah I can see that, real egoísta if you ask me.”

You stand, marching over towards the kitchen. “You know I have no clue what you’re saying.”

Armando turns, follows you, taking a seat at the bar. And before you know it, just like that compound before, you're caged between his legs.

“I called you selfish.”

You let out a gasp. “How the hell am I selfish?”

“Because you left the team!”

“I left the team to keep everyone safe! Not because I’m selfish!”

“We're safe! And we’ll be safer knowing that you’re safe, too, especially with some of Ramos’s associates still out there! I—we need to keep tabs on you.”

You stumble back. “What?’ You swallow. “Are you telling me my life is in danger? That Ramos will send people after me?”

“It’s a possibility we’re considering,’ Armando says, his eyes never leaving you as you sit across from him. “But if you come back to work we can keep you safe.”

“And what’s to say they won’t come for me any other time?” You croak. “Being in that compound doesn’t guarantee my safety.”

Armando rubs a slow hand over his face. “But I can.” He says, hardly above a whisper.

“You. Protect me?”

“Why is that so far-fetched?” He says.

“Armando, you hate me.”

“You keep putting words in my mouth, princesa, and I don’t like it.”

“I’m not putting words in your mouth. It’s just, actions speak louder.’ You shrug. “Ever since you got into AMMO, we’ve been the least close out of everybody. No matter how hard I tried, we just never connected. So yes, I’m sorry if I find you putting yourself on the line for me, unprovoked, a little hard to believe.”

Armando stands, his frame opposing against yours. He lifts his shirt and you hiss at what you see. Bandages, dried blood, and purple bruises litter his torso.

You look away but he catches your chin with his thumb, pulling your attention back to him.

“I wouldn’t put myself on the line for you,’ he said, pulling his shirt back down. “I already fucking did.”

“I never asked you too.” You mutter, looking away ashamed that you caused that.

“You didn’t have to.’ He sighs. “I couldn’t stand to see you get hurt.”

“What?” You turn, slow tears building, blurring your vision now.

“I didn’t want you to go out there because, as much as I try to hide it, I care about you.” Armando says, hot brown eyes melting into you.

You blink, stalling and stepping back. Armando…cares about you? Those two things shouldn’t even be in conjunction and your brain can’t process that they are.

The man in front of you has never been anything but harsh towards you, now he comes to your home in the middle of the night begging you to come back to work and confessing his feelings for you.

You truly must be dreaming…this can’t be real. Not that you’d be mad if it was. Despite all your bickering and misunderstandings, you still held a soft spot for Armando. You could see he was trying to be a better person, a more open person, regardless of his flaws.

And there were moments when he was kind to you, like opening doors for you, walking side by side with you to your car late at night, never forgetting to get your lunch along with the teams if you couldn’t make it. You knew he had a nice side to him and that’s why you showed him yours time and time again. Showed him it was okay to be vulnerable, but now he is, truly is, and you can’t even compute it.

“Why would you say something like that?” You swallow, something weird stirring inside of you, making you step closer towards him.

Armando does the same, closing the gap between you two. “Say what, princesa? The truth.”

You don’t mean to, but you whimper as the nickname leaves his lips. You look down, heat flushing in your cheeks. “Please don’t call me that.”

Armando scoops your chin with his index finger, your eyes latching and twinkling under the soft glow of your house's lights. “¿Por qué? no puedo manejarlo.”

“No.” You breath, studying every bridge and sharp angle of his face. This close, his beauty is unbelievable.

Armando’s thick, kept beard, is just as dark as his hair. His brown eyes are surrounded by a shade of full lashes, and his plump pink lips, glistening in the soft light. Armando Aretas was hard to resist and that’s why you feel yourself falling closer into him.

Like your mind is on autopilot, your hands fall to his chest, resting there and feeling every muscle he’s worked so hard for.

“I can see that.” Armando smirks. “I can also see that you care for me, too.”

“I—,”

“Want me to show you how I know?” He whispers, lips touching your ear and making you gasp.

You nod. There was no point in resisting him at that moment. Not that you wanted to either.

In one swift motion, Armando bends down and then you're airborne. His hands rest underneath your thighs as he carries you to your bedroom.

Walking over, your eyes never leave each other. You open your mouth to speak as a thought holds you captive.

“Is this why you said all those mean things? To discourage me because you didn’t want me to get hurt?” You ask, caressing his face in your hands.

Armando leans into the touch, nodding his head just as you two pass through the door of your bedroom.

He sets you down gently and you cling your arms around his neck.

“Why didn’t you just tell me that?” You ask.

Armando’s hands encircle your waist as he sighs. “I didn’t know how. I was just so angry that they’d even ask you to do something like that anyway.”

“And you were angry because you liked me?”

Armando nods.

“And when I was pretending to be Jenna…were you acting then, too?”

Armando chuckles, biting his lip, you look away to keep from melting. “You mean when I smacked your ass? I might have taken advantage of the situation then.”

You hit his chest and laugh. “I can’t believe you. That’s a violation!”

Armando leans in close. “I’d be happy to violate you some more, princesa.”

You chuckle lightly and wither out of his grip, taking a seat on the bed.

Armando frowns, sitting next to you. “What’s wrong? Was it something I sa—,”

“No. It’s fine. It’s just…I’ve never actually been with anyone before.”

Armando stills. “Oh. I was just joking with you,” he stands. “I can leave.”

Quickly, you grab his wrist, pulling him back. “No. I don’t want you to.’ You stand, taking his face in your hands and pulling him close. His lips are inches from yours and you can feel his nose brush against yours. “I want you to show me, just like you said.” You moan, placing your lips onto his.

Armando shutters, placing a hand on the nape of your neck. He opens his mouth, swiping his tongue over the bottom of your lips, asking for entry. You oblige and he slips inside, turning the kiss hot and fierce.

Armando swallows every moan you release, gripping your hips and pushing you back against the bed, his weight gently hovering on top of you.

He uses his legs, he spreads you open, you gasp at the motion allowing him access to your neck.

Like a man starving, Armando attacks your neck with hot-trailed kisses, lingering sucks and suckles, and licks that drive you wild, the heat between your legs pulsing now with desire.

“Fuck,’ you gasps and he palms over one of your breasts, sucking on the tender spot beneath your ear.

“Te gusta ese, bebe?” Armando whispers against your skin.

You shake your head “Yes.” You whimper.

Armando leans back, pulling at your top. “Let’s get this off of you, eh?”

You sit up just enough, allowing him access to pull the fabric off of you.

In a flash he peels your shirt off of you, leaving you bare in front of him.

Impulse has you covering yourself, but Armando reaches out, slowly moving your arms away from your chest.

“Don’t hide from me, mama.” He says, eyes darkening when he finally has a full view of your boobs.

“Mierda, you’re so beautiful baby.” He moans.

You shutter as he talks one breast in his hands, rubbing circles with it, while the other he latches his plump lips onto, sucking at your nipples.

The sensation causes your head to snap back and a deep, repressed moan to fly from your lips. Armando was doing the lords work with both his hand and tongue.

You squirm, squeezing your legs together and stimulating your spot, making your pants leak with want.

You had never had to opportunity to be with a man before, but in this moment you wanted nothing more than to fuck Armando.

“Fuck me,” you moan out. “Please.”

Armando chuckles, the sensation against your nipple makes you hiss. “Estás tan impaciente, princesa.’ He smacks your ass. “But eh, if that’s what you want, that’s what you’ll get.” He smirks, pushing you down against the bed.

He hovers on top, snatching his shirt off. All of his rippling muscles on display before you. You bite your lip at the site, hoping to see more and soon.

“If you want me to fuck you, will have to get rid of these, no?” He pulls at the strings of your pajama bottoms.

You nod, eager to have him inside of you.

In a blur, Armando pulls off your pants, tossing them to the side.

If you thought you saw darkness in his eyes when he saw your boobs, the look he has now is nothing in comparison. His eyes are nearly pitch black as he takes in what is soon to be his.

Armando spreads open your legs, hissing once he gets a glimpse at your glistening cunt.

You moan just at the thought of bearing it all in front of him.

“God, fuck.” He says, pulling down his pants and revealing a surprise of his own that makes you gasp.

Though covered in boxers, you can see just what he was working with. And to say the least, he was huge, and thick.

“Come here, baby.’ He moans, pulling you by your thighs to the edge of the bed. “Let me taste you.” He says.

You watch as Armando’s head lowers between your legs and the second his mouth touches your pussy, you fell back into the bed.

His mouth makes quick work of you, versing between sucking on your clit and licking your slit in a rhythm that builds a euphoria inside your gut.

The force of his tongue against your pussy and the pressure of his lips wrapped around your swollen clit has your back arching and screaming out.

Your toys had nothing on Armando.

“Please,” you whimper and try to squirm, but Armando holds you in place, slapping your ass twice as hard as a repercussion.

With each pass of his tongue, circling arcs on your pussy you can feel yourself climbing to the edge. Armando must feel it too because he puts the cherry on top when he sinks a thick finger inside of you.

“Oh my—ugh!”

You’re a whimpering, whining mess. The sheets beneath you turning a new shade of green as you soak them with your slick.

Armando adds another finger in for good measure only adding to the build up in your stomach. Each pump, suck, and lick causes a buckle to snap inside of you and a high only the man eating you out right now can give you is climbing.

You reach higher, and higher. Your orgasm just around the bend.

One last pump and suck, and you come undone, all over Armando’s face.

Armando comes back up from the floor, crawling over top of you. With the little moonlight that shines into your bedroom you can see yourself covering his beard, droplets of cum covering most of it.

“Taste yourself for me.” He growls, lowering his lips into yours.

You latch on and a sweet, yet neutral, flavor slips onto your lips as you and Armando kiss in a harmonious rhythm.

You never let go from his grasps as your hand travels down. You grab a hold of his massive, bulging cock.

Armando hisses and whimpers as you begins to stroke it with a various pressures: soft, hard, slow, the soft again. He shutters above you, his faces desperate and pleading.

“You’ll make me come like that.’ He breaths, gripping your hands. “I thought you were a virgin?”

“I am,’ you hiss, still squirming. “But I think it’s a bullshit construct. I’m still highly sexual,’ you say, pulling at his cock, bringing it forth. “And I want to be highly sexual with you.”

Armando bites his lips, pulling you into his lap. “Eres un problema, princesa.”

“I know,” you say, kissing him once more.

You rock back and forth, feeling his cock press against your needing pussy. The pressure making you both shake in anticipation.

Armando breaks the kiss. “Do you have a condom?”

You shake your head. “No, but I’m on birth control.”

He nods. “Good, you’re going to need it.”

He flips you over so that he is on top. Finally, he reaches down and slips out of his boxers, his cock, thick, long and full, springs to life and you can’t help but moan. Your pussy is aching with the need to be filled.

Armando spreads your legs open, angling the tip of his cock with your pussy’s pulsing entrance.

“Are you sure about this, baby?” He asks.

“I’m sure. Now fuck me, please.”

Armando obeys, slowly slipping his cock inside of you.

You hiss at the burning, stretching pain, digging your nails into his back as he pushes in, your pussy swallowing him inch by inch.

“Mm,” you croak.

Armando stops. “Are you okay?” He shakes

You grip at his ass, forcing him inside deeper, despite the burn you’re desperate to feel all of him. “Don’t stop.” You moan. “Please keep going.”

Armando pushes in further and deeper, tearing you open, until you’re fully stretched and he’s reached the depths of your ocean.

You two stay still for a moment, him allowing you time to adjust to the new stretching sensation and his size.

You lean up to kiss him. He deepens it, molding his mouth to yours, before slowly moving.

You moan, holding onto him as he picks up the pace, thrusting into you faster.

You can feel the pain melting into pleasure the more he pounds into you.

Harder and faster you begin to feel yourself loose control, your euphoria coming to hit its second peak.

“Fuck me, ugh! Please, Armando!” You shot, lifting your legs, granting him deeper access.

Armando grips the tiny mound between your hip and leg, using it as leverage to drive his thick cock deeper into your soaking wet pussy.

Animalistic groans leave his lips as he drives into you at an unholy pace. The sounds of skin slapping and drawn out, breathy moans fill the room, reaching a devilish peak when you scream out, coming and pulsing around his cock.

Armando follows you not shortly after, his dick pulsing and pumping his spillage into you.

He rolls off of you, taking you in his arms and placing a sweaty kiss on your forehead.

“Let’s get you cleaned up.” He murmurs on your forehead.

“Okay.” You smile, your legs sore and your middle aching.

Armando lifts you up bridal-style and carries you into the bathroom.

Soon you’re surrounded by steam and soap as you two bathe each other down.

Showered, you two snuggle in bed, a burning question still at the forefront of your mind.

“Armando?” You say.

“Hm,’ he is hardly awake at this point.

“When did you realize you cared about me?” You ask, angling your head to head to get a good look at him.

Armando chuckles, stroking your curls you have yet to put in a bonnet. “I think I always did. I was just scared.”

“Scared? Of what?”

“Maybe that you wouldn’t see me the way i see you.” He sighs. “I see only the good in you, and maybe that makes me a blind man, but I’m certain you’re a woman who can see through facades, and you wouldn’t see any goodness in me.”

You sit up. “That’s not true. Armando, of course you’ve done terrible things, but that’s not what I see when I look at you.”

Armando takes a hold of your bandaged hand, placing a small kiss on the palm. “So what do you see?”

“Now? I just see you, and all the tiny little good things that I love.”

A small smile graces Armando’s face before he leans in, kissing you softly. You sigh against his lips, not wanting this moment to end.

Though you two had some struggles, you wouldn’t have this pairing any other way.

You just wished you’d checked your blind spot early to see all the little signs you were missing.

[written-in-flowers]

More Than Enough: OT8 X fem!Reader

Pairing: OT8 x Fem!reader

Genre: smut...just loads of smut...hints of fluff sprinkled inside

Word Count: 14k

AU: sugar baby/sugar daddies, contracted dating, polyamorous.

Rating: Explicit, very

Summary: A good movie night turns into something steamier when the members discover you haven't done your laundry yet.

Tags: poly relationship, breast play, nipple play, exhibitionism, voyeurism, mentions of it too, gangbang, bukkake (sort of), fondling over clothes and under clothes, group sex, cunnlingus, vaginal fingering, anal fingering, anal sex, vaginal sex, sex toys for men and women, blowjobs, handjobs, rough blowjobs/deep throating, slight edging, hella overstimulation, occasional degradation, multiple orgasms, somewhat bisezual sex, ateez!doms, sub!reader, mixed gentle and hard doms, breeding kink, protected sex until the very end so wrap it up because apparently I need to write that idk why it should be obvious but whatever, and lots of aftercare.

Next on Idol Companion

***

You pressed the ‘popcorn’ button on the microwave and hoped it didn’t burn. The popcorn coming out burnt would ruin everything. You spent all day fixing everything to work out: you bought more snacks and drinks, added movies to the watch list, and brought out blankets and pillows for everyone to sit on. The boys told you not to go through so much trouble for a simple movie night, but you couldn’t help yourself. It’s hard to get everyone home at the same time. Nights are typically the easiest, so you managed to make it work out. 

Waiting on popcorn, you turned to the refrigerator beside you. The members often posted small notes or reminders on the doors so everyone saw them. A few were written by you, but Seonghwa wrote most of them. On the side of the fridge, they’d pinned two calendars. One calendar showed the basic monthly flower and had the members’ overall scheduled days on it. Personal appointments, Wanteez shoots, photoshoots, live streams, and so on took up small boxes throughout the month. The one right underneath it happened to be an Ateez calendar, each month with a different group photo. You’d written down your own appointments or reminders for upcoming events there. You smiled softly when you spotted a post-it note plastered beside it. 

‘Reminder: PLEASE GO TO YOUR AGENCY APPOINTMENTS!!! Love you so much, -Seonghwa.’ he’d drawn a small heart next to his name, which made you smile. 

Someone posted another note right next to that one. 

‘No, seriously. Please go. They’ll think we’re keeping you hostage. Love you lots -Jongho.’ Jongho had drawn two hearts, which also made you smile. 

You giggled softly to yourself.  They were both right, of course. You’d been missing appointments with the agency because you’d grown to hate them. Every agency meeting included mental and physical examinations. You’d sit down with a therapist to discuss how your relationship with the members is going, if you have any frustrations or complaints you’d like to share, and your overall mental health. Then, you’d leave the therapist for the doctor, who runs a full body check-up on you, sometimes including blood work which you hated because you dislike needles. Your company agent, Sungmi, tells you it is to make sure your body is working to its best ability. 

Also, to make sure you’re free of pregnancies, diseases, or bodily traumas from sex. 

You shuddered imagining what ‘bodily trauma’ might mean, but you’d heard stories. Your tests always came back clean, so why did you need to go? If you had an issue with the boys, you simply sat them down and told them. They listened to you; they discussed and solved issues with you instead of pushing you onto their manager. Other women in your industry told you they hardly talked to their ‘boyfriends’. Kira, another Companion, said she mainly worked with her group’s manager. You understood those situations called for agency meetings, but you didn’t see the need for yourself. Seeing Seonghwa’s note, you knew he wouldn’t let it go until you went. You might as well schedule it before Sungmi did. 

The microwave alarm went off, and you withdrew the piping hot bag. You dumped it into the bowl, and sprayed a bit of butter. Mingi liked lots of butter on his, so you made a separate bowl for him. You knew he’d appreciate the consideration, but it was your job to know these things. As an ‘Idol Companion’, you are supposed to know things your partners like and do them to make them feel better. People who read about your situation online tend to think you’re simply a sex doll for kpop idols, and think they’re able to do it. You often shut down ignorance by telling people what you went through with your training. ‘Training’? Yes, ‘training’. 

Because, sex and looks aren't the only part of the position. You told these people they needed to be ✨ interesting ✨. Learning the art of conversation and entertainment are two key ingredients. There are also lessons in psychology, literature, dance, music, art, and history. You said a proper Companion knew how to appeal to all kinds of people, not a singular type. A Companion needed to be charming, charismatic, and intelligent. If a man or woman wanted an idol to like them, they needed to be more than a pretty face. Nowadays, Companions don’t date an entire group like you do, since they find more stability with soloists or dating non-exclusively. People who do date groups usually have a second or third partner to share “the load” with, but that really depends on the company’s budget. Ateez had no such budget when they began, so when KQ approached your agency, they could only select one. Not that you minded. You’d gained enough experience by then to handle all eight idols. Still, it is no easy task, especially with your chaotic boys. You have seen many outsiders try and fail to go through the process because they thought it was all about ‘dating hot Korean idols’. You won’t lie; it is certainly a perk, but there’s more underneath the surface, you’d tell them.

‘You’re not a prostitute. You’re a companion, a friend, a partner.’ 

Mama Kim’s words rang in your head as you finished Mingi’s bowl, and pulled out a bag of chips. You’d gone out and bought the spicy ones Jonhgo liked, since he’d mentioned craving them yesterday. Little things. It was all about the ‘little things’. 

“There you are, beautiful.” His shuffling feet alerted you to his presence and you looked over your shoulder to see Yunho walking into the kitchen. Very tall and broad shouldered, he ran his hand through his black hair and kissed your cheek. He looked over your face and hair, seeing the new style and length. “Gorgeous,” was all he said before pecking your lips. “I haven’t seen you all day,” he said, pecking your lips next and then grabbing a large bowl from the top shelf. “I thought you’d be home around lunch.” 

“I ran some errands after my appointment,” you explained, trying to open the bag, “And then I went out to lunch with some friends before going to see my parents. I told them I’d stop by sometime this week, so I took my free day to go.”

“How are they?” he asked, leaning on the island counter. “Is your mom feeling better?”

“Much better,” you answered, struggling to open the chip bag. Your parents both moved closer to you when they retired, so that way you’re not so far from them. “She keeps asking when I’m going to bring all of you over again. I told her we’ve all been too busy, but I can only say that for so long.”

Yunho opened the bag for you with ease, filled the bowl, and looked at the calendar. “We have time off towards the end of the month,” he said. “We can work out a day then. I’d love to see your parents again.” 

“We’re seeing YN’s parents?” Wooyoung walked into the room, white shirt hanging from his shoulders and black hair damp from a shower. “When?” He gave you a brief kiss then wrapped his arms around you. “I have to get your mom flowers.” He checked out your new hairstyle, and smiled, “You look beautiful, by the way.” 

“Thanks, and we’ll see them soon,” you said. “I was telling Yunho that she’s feeling better and wants us to visit.”

It took your parents a while to get used to your job; they thought it might be a bit much handling eight men. But, when they saw how happy the boys made you, they stopped questioning you. Honestly, they saw this polyamorous situation of eight boyfriends as a higher likelihood of marriage and pregnancy. Marriage meant financial security, stability, and someone would be looking after you when they’re gone. Pregnancy for them meant grandchildren they could dote over, spoil and brag about to their friends. You told them that you didn’t need a man or children to enjoy life or be happy, to which they said:

“Says the girl who has eight boyfriends.”

“We’ll be having some days off soon,” he said. “We can think of something then.” 

Yunho left the kitchen with the chip bowls, leaving you and Wooyoung alone. The youngest moved to grab a popcorn bowl when he hesitated. Your cheeks burned when you realized that he’d felt it. You’d sort of hoped they didn’t notice. With everything you did today, laundry ended up on the bottom of the list. But, they’re your boyfriends and are also men, so you shouldn’t be so surprised. 

And, yes, maybe you did hope one or two might notice. 

“No panties?” Wooyoung grinned widely, pulling your body closer to his. “Naughty.”

“I haven’t done my laundry yet,” you excused. “Someone used up all the detergent and didn’t buy more, and I forgot to buy some when I went out today.” 

“Uh-huh, sure,” he smiled, unconvinced. “You just so happen to be wearing no panties,” he pressed you to the counter, “On a night when all eight of us are here?”

“It is a coincidence, I promise,” you replied, not protesting when his hands gripped your hips. 

“Oh, sure, yeah, I believe you,” he planted more kisses on your lips. “Hm, perhaps we should go see your parents in a month or so. By then, we’ll have some good news to share-”

“-Wooyoung!” 

He sealed over your shared laughter with another kiss before someone else walked into the kitchen. “Who are we sharing good news with?” Yeosang arrived next, wearing a hoodie over his shirt and lounge pants. 

“YN’s parents want us to come over,” Wooyoung answered, releasing you and going to the fridge nearby to grab drinks for everyone. 

“Ah, fun,” Yeosang grinned. “You know I don’t mind going.” Yeosang brought you into his arms next, giving you the gentlest of kisses, before he also paused. Yet, instead of saying anything, he questioned you with a look and then smirked when you bashfully turned away. “Love what you did to your hair,” he said instead, “And cool, I like hanging out with your dad.”

“Yeah, your dad’s a cool guy,” Wooyoung agreed. You smiled at their compliments, “Any idea what movie you want to watch, babe?” 

“None at all,” you answered, watching Yeosang leave you to grab cups from the shelf. “I saved a whole bunch of movies earlier today, but I’ll let you guys pick. As long as it’s not another superhero movie; I’m getting so tired of those.”

“I’ll personally make sure it’s not," smiled Yeosang.

You followed the pair out of the kitchen into the living room. It's not by any means large, so the long sectional sofa took up the wall in front of the television. Seonghwa, Mingi, San and Hongjoong already occupied spaces in the room: Mingi took up the long chaise section of the sofa, with Yunho taking over the massage chair at the end. Seonghwa sat in the middle seat with Yeosang; San sat in the far right corner, with Wooyoung sitting beside Mingi and Hongjoong on the comfy armchair opposite the massage chair. You noticed one person still missing. 

“Where’s Jongho?” you asked them, noticing the youngest one’s absence. 

“Gaming,” answered San, bundling up underneath covers to avoid the chill in the room. 

Leaving the living room, you went down the hall to the larger bedroom. Beside a bed up against the wall, Jongho sat at his computer with headphones on and absorbed in his game. You stood there a few seconds to see if he noticed you, but when he didn’t, you walked up to him and gingerly lifted his headphones from his ears. Jongho let out a cry of protest, but quieted when he saw you.

“Movie night,” you answered his questioning gaze. “Come watch it with us.”

“Hm,” he leaned back in the chair, pondering thoughtfully, “I don’t know. I’m kinda deep in my game here. I’m not sure I could go right now,” he gave you a sly smirk. You’d have to convince him. 

“The game can wait,” you took his hand in yours and pouted, “I haven’t seen any of you all day. Come into the living room and sit with us. I got those spicy chips you like.” 

His hand was so close to your body, he broke away to wrap his arm around your waist and bring you into his lap. Giggling from the sudden pull, he blindsided you with a kiss that started light and quickly became tender. It was then that Jongho noticed it:

“You’re not wearing any panties,” he said in your ear, lust making him exhale deeply. “I can feel it through your shorts.”

“I haven’t done my laundry yet,” you said. “It’s no big deal.” 

“I feel bad for anyone sitting with you,” He gripped your thigh tenderly and said, “They’re going to have a hard time keeping their hands off you…especially when you’re not wearing a bra either.”

“But that’s not that new,” you replied, pushing hair from his face. “I rarely wear bras in the dorm. You’re all pretty immune to that.”

“Eh, not as immune as you think,” he disagreed. “I know there have been days where I avoided Braless YN so I don’t get inconvenient boners. Now, add no panties to that equation, and…you know what? I think I’m good here.” 

“Oh hush,” you giggled, moving to slide off him, “You’re coming with me, Mister.” 

“Or we can stay here,” he suggested, bringing you back to his lap, “And play while they watch the movie?”

“Another time,” you said, leaving his lap and taking his hand. 

Jongho sighed defeatedly and followed you back into the living room. You took a seat with Mingi, and snuggled with him underneath the blanket. The winter chill became more noticeable in the lounge area than anywhere else in the dorm. You regretted not wearing more layers than the tanktop, sweatshirt, and shorts you’d pulled on. Making a mental note to finally do your laundry was interrupted by gentle lips pecking the cartilage of your ear. 

"I missed you," Mingi said, kissing the spot again. "I haven’t seen you all day.”

“You did see me though,” you told him, flipping over to look at him properly. “You saw me this morning when you woke up.”

“I did?”

“Yes,” you laughed, recalling a groggy, disheveled Mingi leaving his room earlier that morning. “I said ‘morning, princess’ and you went ‘mmphrfmurmur’ and went into the bathroom.” 

“I don’t remember that,” he replied, smiling softly. “I was half-asleep.”

“When did you go to bed?”

“Late.”

The Ateez way of saying ‘probably at 2 or 3am’. You’d gotten used to hearing this answer from any given member, so you said nothing else and moved onto another subject. 

“What’d you do today?” he asked, putting an arm around you. At this, you saw a hint of realization hit him, but much like Yeosang, Mingi just kept on talking, “You were gone all day.” 

"Going anywhere but to her appointments," said Seonghwa, already munching on popcorn while waiting on the others to pick a movie. "Sungmi called," he said, "She's supposed to call one of us if you miss too many. Why aren't you going, babe? You know you're supposed to."

"They're going to think we have you locked up in a bedroom somewhere if you don't go soon," joked Jongho, who’d taken a spot between Yeosang and Seonghwa.  

"I don't need to go," you whined, turning over to look at him. "If there was something wrong with me, I'd know and I'd go."

"That doesn't matter," said Seonghwa. "Go to the appointment." He looked over at Hongjoong, who was arguing with Yeosang about the movie choices. "Hongjoong, tell her to go to her appointment. She listens to you."

"Nah, not that one! Let's watch the first one. That's the best one," he told Yeosang, not having heard Seonghwa.

"They're all lame, in my opinion," said San. "Does it have to be that one?”

"Hongjoong," Seonghwa threw a popcorn piece at Hongjoong, who looked at him affronted, "Tell YN to go to her agency appointments. Sungmi says she has to go or they're going to do a house visit."

"Why aren't you meeting with Sungmi?" He asked you curiously. "It’s not just for us, but it’s for your health.” 

"They schedule them too early," you said, giving him your famous pouting expression. 

"Then reschedule them for later in the day. You have to go to these appointments; it’s in the contract that you go at least every three or four months" he said. 

"But I don't need to. I’m fine.” 

"Oh, really?" A smirk slowly stretched across his face, "Maybe we should give you a reason to go, then? Since you don't have one?"

The others stifled laughter, and your cheeks burned again. The words 'bodily trauma' came back, and a shiver went up your spine. Not once have your partners pushed you beyond your limits or boundaries; they made sure you remained comfortable and safe as possible. Yet, the slight implication in Hongjoong’s question brought a creeping heat around your ears. You hid half your face to conceal your embarrassed smile. 

"I'll go," you squeaked.

"What was that?" He asked, tilting his ear towards you. 

"I'll go to the appointment tomorrow."

"Good girl," he smiled fondly. He turned to Seonghwa, "See? It's that easy." He turned back to Yeosang and San, “Let’s watch the first one. It’s so bad, it’s almost good.” 

Seonghwa chucked another popcorn kernel at him, though ruined the effect by laughing. The group finally decided on a film, and settled in as it started to play. Mingi curled into the corner of the couch and put his arm around you underneath the blanket, so your back remained facing him. The warmth of him and the blanket fought off the winter air pressing into the glass windows. The movie, a sci-fi film featuring a scientist, a county sheriff, and a pair of college kids taking on a half-octopus/half-shark monster, proved as terrible as Hongjoong insisted it’d be. Though, the boys and you took this in spirit; you all made fun of the movie rather than take it seriously. You laid there in Mingi’s arms as you enjoyed their company. It felt good being surrounded by all of them at once, rather than in pairs or smaller groups. 

A bikini clad girl happened to be screaming bloody murder when something else took your notice. At first, you thought the small bump might be bundled up fabric or simply your imagination. You focused your attention on the girl making feeble attempts to swim from the CGI shark-topus, but when Mingi shifted uncomfortably, you couldn’t help but move with him. 

“I’m sorry,” Mingi mumbled in your ear, lips right against the edge, “I can’t help it.”

“It’s okay,” you said as quietly as possible. You did your best not to move too much, but the hardness poking your ass tempted you. “I don’t mind.” 

“Oh?” Mingi slowly rocked his hips into you, the shaft of his length pushing into the fabric of your shorts. The lack of underwear caused an even more apparent warmth. His arms secured you close to him underneath the blanket, and he began kissing the crook of your neck. “Is that why you’re not wearing any underwear?” 

“Haven’t done laundry yet,” you said. Thinking about it now, you realized how they might perceive this, especially when Mingi’s cock twitched against you. “I didn’t have any to wear.” 

“And instead of washing some,” he began, “You decided to walk around without underwear? In this dorm?” you heard the accusation in his voice, and he laughed, “It sounds planned to me…and maybe I should give you what you want.”

“Mingi…” the heat from before crept over the rest of your body now, and the cool air no longer bothered you. "Here?"

"If that's what you want," he said, deep voice sending shivers to your core. "We can go to my bedroom instead. They can listen to us rather than watch this crappy movie." He kissed the crook of your neck, and said, "I know you like it when we overhear you…"

He wasn't wrong. You never said it out loud but anyone paying attention during sex would notice how aroused you became at being watched. Most of the members knew this, and the naughtier ones liked doing it within the vicinity of others. You gazed back into the room as Mingi groped and rubbed up on you. The other members sat near you; all of them remained focused on the movie playing in the living room, except for one. Hongjoong. He didn’t fully turn around, but he’d looked over to see you in Mingi’s arms. The light of the television illuminated the knowing smirk that went across his face. He scanned down your body, as if he could see through the thick blanket, and you bit back a whimper. He knew, even if nobody else noticed. Warmth began pooling between your legs as you pictured him coming over, pulling off the covers and pawing at you with Mingi. It wouldn’t be the first time. Your eyes stayed locked with his, and you gave a pleading expression. He glanced at the rest of the room as if to say, "Right here? You dirty girl." 

You wouldn't have denied it either. The dirtiest fantasies of yours involved all of them ganging up on you, using your body any way they wanted and bringing you to climax multiple times. Hongjoong knew this because you’d confessed it to him; he said it’d be the hottest thing you ever did. However, you never brought it up to anyone else. You weren’t sure if you could physically handle all eight men taking advantage of you. You knew possibly three or four is manageable for you, but eight is excessive. You knew if you did that, you wouldn’t sit or walk right for a while; particularly with how horny and dirty some members get in the heat of the moment. The full on orgy would stay in your fantasies. 

Mingi slipped his hands underneath your sweater, and you jumped at his cold fingers. Hongjoong didn’t look away; his leering didn’t alert anyone around him, so he kept watching. You dared to release a soft whimper when those hands grasped your breasts over your tank top. Mingi hummed in your ear, continuing to gradually grind into you. The movie’s volume drowned out any noises made between you, and your blanket concealed your movements. Hands over the tanktop and under your sweater, Mingi pinched and rolled your nipples gently. 

“You really like when he watches, don’t you?” Mingi asked. 

“A little.” 

He let his lips linger on your shoulder, “I think it’s more than ‘a little’.” 

The gesture sent waves of warmth to your lower half, where you started pushing back into Mingi’s hips subtly. You could feel Hongjoong casting occasional glances your way, which only added fuel to the fire. You felt Mingi’s length grow against you, the small bump getting steadily harder. Your pussy pulsed when he gave your tits another squeeze and pinched your nipples at the same time. Your thighs squeezed together for a form of friction, but wished for more. 

“You’re not wearing a bra either. I can’t resist you when you’re braless.” He pecked the spot beneath your ear and said, “It’s torture…You do it on purpose,” he added the last bit as he rolled your nipples in his fingers. 

A sudden gasp escaped you when a small surge of cold air snuck under the fleece blanket, and a hand slipped right between your thighs. You opened them to see Wooyoung right beside you on the floor. Dark eyes usually full of sweetness and innocence looked at you with seductive lust. His hand slid along the inner seam of your shorts; that dangerous seam connecting both sides together where he could feel your pussy the easiest. Merely the warmth of his hand built up your arousal further. His middle fingernail dragged against the seam, a very slight vibration coming from the friction. 

“He’s not the only one,” said Wooyoung, clearly having overheard you both. “I like looking at them too, but I personally think you should be bottomless instead.” He pushed his finger to your sex oh-so-slightly, causing you to exhale deeply. He could no doubt feel your bare sex underneath the flimsy shorts, since he then lightly rolled his fingers around it. He smirked when you clenched your thighs around his hand. “That way, I can see this pussy whenever I want without so many layers in the way. You always keep it looking so pretty and yummy,” he gave a small growl before sealing his lips over yours. Mingi continued groping your tits while Wooyoung fondled your pussy. “I can't get enough of it."

"Me neither," agreed Mingi, who continued groping your chest and kissing you. "But your tits are my favorite part."

Mingi pulled the blanket off you and lifted your sweater and top over your chest. You gasped at the sudden exposure, but it did not last long. Mingi shifted around to let you lay on your back as both men started licking and sucking your nipples. The sensation of two mouths teasing your breasts and two hands roaming your body electrified you. You tried staying quiet as Mingi firmly sucked one nipple and Wooyoung slowly swirled his tongue around the other. Wooyoung kept tracing the inner seam to drive you wild, and you almost forgot the other men in the room. ‘Almost’ because another pair of hands soon joined in. Sliding up your thighs, Yunho kissed his way to your hips, sliding up the chaise section to your legs. 

“What’s going on over here, hm?” he asked, dotting kisses on your thighs. “Is this movie too boring for you?”

“It sucks,” said Mingi, capturing your lips for a kiss. You moaned into his mouth, unable to stop yourself. “I found something more interesting to do instead.” 

Yunho’s long arms reached up far enough to the curves of your breasts. He took up the one Mingi abandoned, and carefully circled his thumb around your hard nipple. You surrendered completely once Yunho’s fingers hooked the waistband of your shorts. 

“Let’s get these off,” he said, kissing down your stomach as Wooyoung switched sides and suckled your other breast. You felt more exposed once Yunho pulled off your shorts to reveal the truth. “Oh god, no panties,” he breathed, “I knew it. I could tell when I saw you in the kitchen.”

“Me too,” said Wooyoung, who joined him in kissing down your body. “I told her she should walk around bottomless from now on. That way,” he went back to rubbing your sex and you squirmed at the new feeling, “I can see this whenever I want.” 

“Fuck, if you did that,” Yunho moaned, sitting on the couch and spreading your legs, “You’d be sitting on my face nearly all day.” 

“I’d love it,” you breathed in between Mingi’s kisses, “I love your tongues so much.”

“Oh, do you?” Wooyoung said, mischief in his voice as he knelt closer to your hips. He sat up fully to hover over your pussy. Having him and Yunho this close made your clit throb. “No wonder you flaunted it in the kitchen. It is where we eat after all…”

“I’m pretty hungry right now…” said Yunho, laying between your legs on the couch and swiping his tongue over your slit. 

Mingi took over your nipples while Wooyoung and Yunho rested over your lower half. Being pinned down by Wooyoung’s arm, you couldn’t move away from the light brushes against your lips. One tongue already made you a whining mess; two tongues had your eyes rolling back. The tips of their tongues prodded between your folds carefully, sliding and licking them open until they found your clitoris. Yunho’s tongue licked over the underside while Wooyoung took over the top. Both of their tongues came together in the middle, creating this encompassing sensation that had you breaking away from Mingi to moan out loud. You didn’t care if the others heard you. You wanted them to hear you. You wanted all of them, at once, together. Hongjoong happened to be looking on longer as the three men groped and licked you. Your cheeks heated up from the sudden realization from his staring, and you looked away. It was when Wooyoung took your clit in his mouth, and moaned against it that you let go. Yunho, liking this reaction, did the same when his turn came. Both men began alternating: Yunho at your entrance and Wooyoung on your clit. You thought you might lose your mind. 

You then reached down Mingi’s body to the boner pulsing against your side just to hear his deep, low groan in your ear. You rubbed along the tent forming in his shorts until you pushed it aside to let his cock out. Your mouth watered, feeling the thick muscle pulsate against your pelvis and picturing it elsewhere. You loved hearing the members moan when you had sex with them. You loved Wooyoung’s soft sighs and Yunho's throaty groans. Mingi was no exception. He moaned into your neck, groping your breasts still and rocking into your hand. You gripped it gently to wipe your fingers over the wrinkled underside, the sensitive part that made him harder. You loved pleasuring them as much as they loved pleasuring you. 

“I’d gladly walk around naked,” you said to them, arching your back as Wooyoung and Yunho’s tongues flicked your sex, “If you guys do too. Living in a dorm with so many yummy cocks to choose from is a dream.” 

They all chuckled as they pleased you. Then, another voice called out when a lamp turned on. “Hey, turn her around so the rest of us can watch too.” 

It was Jongho, and his comment made all of you laugh. Yeosang, sitting beside him on the couch, flicked on the opposite lamp. A bit of shame heated your cheeks as dim lighting brought you into their view. No matter how long you’d been with them, having their attention on you still made you bashful. Mingi, Wooyoung, and Yunho let you sit up on the couch. You let Mingi pull off your sweater so you sat naked under their gaze. Their jaws dropped seeing you bare in front of them in the living room, a public place in your dorm. They still reacted this way whenever they saw you naked. Whether in the bedroom or somewhere else, every time was their first time. Nothing made you feel more desirable than having all of them entranced by your body. 

“Lean back, baby,” Mingi said, tugging down his shorts and kneeling beside you. 

You took his tip in your mouth at once, giving a soft moan when the hot tip touched your tongue. Yunho and Wooyoung knelt in front of you, each man holding one of your legs and continued eating you out together. Inch by inch, you drew Mingi further in; you held him by the base, cupping his balls in your hand at the same time so he had that extra stimulation. You looked up to see Mingi had stripped further down, his naked torso now visible and making him a jaw-dropping sight. Full lips parted in every moan, you saw the need for release etched into his features, but you refused to give him that. Not right away. The slew of moans the two men beneath you caused became muffled by Mingi’s dick; an act you’re certain drives him wild. Mingi liked pleasuring you while you pleasured him for this reason.

Slurping up the juices your spit and his precum made, you let your tongue linger under for a few moments before suckling the throbbing muscle. You could feel it pulse on your tongue and against your cheeks; more precum leaked inside and you swallowed greedily. All this made Mingi grab a hold of your hair and force you to the base. Letting him guide you, your hand moves in tandem with your mouth. The bundle of sensations coursing through your body caused trembling and sensitivity as Wooyoung and Yunho brought you closer to climax. You knew you'd explode from their tongues teasing your sex from top to bottom repeatedly. Their light flicking tightened the knots tightening between your legs. 

"So soon, baby?" Yunho said, pecking along your inner thigh. "We've barely started."

"I can't help it," you whimpered. "It feels so good-Ah, Wooyoungie!" 

Wooyoung responded with a growl he made sure you'd feel. His tongue slashed across your clit from side to side and you nearly collapsed from the sensation. Mingi pushed himself back into your mouth, grunting and groaning along with you. The climax burning in your lower stomach slowly built until you were shaking. You'd always been able to hold it back whenever you took on multiple partners, but the possibility of fulfilling your greatest fantasy charged it forward. You didn't know what the end result would be, and you couldn't wait for it. 

"No, no, no," Wooyoung said, pulling away right as your orgasm touched the edge. "You hold onto that for now."

"You haven't been fucked yet," Yunho added. "You don't want to cum without anything inside you, do you?" 

"But…but I don't know if I can," you pouted at him. "It tingles a lot."

They awed at this, and it was Mingi who spoke. "Just relax and enjoy this," Mingi sighed, pressing his tip to your mouth again.  

“I’ll take your mind off it.”

San. You knew what he meant before he even approached. He positioned himself opposite Mingi; he stood on the couch and leaned on his side. Your mouth dropped open when he pulled his pants to his thighs. Having San exposed like this made you gravitate to him. Your body continued gradually coming down from the edging, so neither Wooyoung or Yunho touched you right away. They stuck to being spectators below, watching you along with everyone else. 

Stroking Mingi’s wet cock, you opened your mouth for San. He groaned at the first touch of your tongue to his underside. San liked it when you took your time; he didn’t like hasty, half-assed sex. You licked him from base to tip without using your hand, so his shaft stayed on your face every lick. San groaned as he watched you trace the veins along his stiffness and suck on the tip each time. Concentrating on both Mingi and San made it easier to avoid stirring up your orgasm again. You turned to Mingi, and opened your mouth for him. He grabbed his base to smack the head on your tongue, sliding it along the length of your tongue before pushing into your mouth. 

“Such a dirty girl,” San moaned, forcing your head back so both cocks settled over your mouth, “You can never have enough dick, can you?” When you shook your head, the room chuckled. “I think you’re going to get more than your fill of dick tonight, sweetie.” 

“Especially when you’re so eager for more…”

Mingi held you by the hair as they took turns in your mouth. All around you, you could hear the other members talking and felt their eyes drinking you in. You didn’t feel an ounce of shame. They loved you, and you loved them. You had no reason to be ashamed of this kind of behavior. You liked having them watch. Before any of them ever touched you, you used to like letting them sneak peeks at you in the shower or in your bedroom, getting dressed. The largest turn on was when one member walked in on you with another, and he stayed to watch. They know you like being watched, and did it now just for you. When San plunged himself down into your throat, you received nothing but encouragement and praise. 

“Hold it, hold it,” you heard Seonghwa’s deep voice instruct from nearby. “See how long you can keep that dick in your throat, baby.” Your throat tightened reflexively around the intrusive length, and you struggled for air for a few seconds. “Remember what I taught you,” he said, sounding closer now, “Relax and breathe through your nose.” 

You tried. You really did, but you finally pulled away from San, coughing and gasping for air. You looked to see Seonghwa sitting where Wooyoung had been on your left, hand gently rubbing your inner thigh. Shirtless in lounge pants, Seonghwa was a vision of beauty. Black hair in an undercut, sharp features bare and perfect, he resembled a painting in a high end museum. How could you not love a face like his?

“I’m sorry,” you coughed, chest heaving up and down. “I tried.”

“That’s okay, angel,” he said, “Try it with Mingi’s now.” 

Mingi guided you fully onto his dick, your lips brushing the hilt while his cock touched your throat. He isn’t as long or as large as San, so you managed it with ease. Seonghwa looked on intently. He liked seeing you give the other members blowjobs before getting one himself; he once said he liked having them warm you up for him. Mingi and San both groaned each time you took one of them in your throat. San moved in and out of it easily, enjoying the gagging sounds you made each time he did it; Mingi liked keeping you firmly down while Wooyoung and Yunho made you moan through your throat. The pleasure heightened when a tongue swiped over your soaked, stimulated pussy. 

“Mm, tastes so good,” Seonghwa growled, making sure you felt it before he suckled the sensitive nub. “I could eat this all day, and never get bored.” He gave it a soft kiss, “Especially if she’s throating my cock while I do it.” 

“Same” Wooyoung agreed, using his turn to make rapid swirling motions there. This instantly stoked the fires inside you again. Yet, every time you grew close, they pulled away. It became total torture that you never wanted to stop. “I could do this all day. I don’t care if my jaw locks up. Hearing her cum is worth it every time.”

The members laughed at his bold statement, but it only made you hornier. You went back to sucking Mingi’s dripping cock when something slim and long finally slid inside you. You looked to see Yunho’s mouth agape as he slowly pumped two fingers into your pussy. He shifted to the side somewhat so the rest of the room could see his fingers stretching your hole while the other two licked your clit. San had been fucking your mouth when Seonghwa and Wooyoung spread your lips further to greedily lap at the pearl hiding in the folds. The cries of pleasure were muffled by the thick cock filling your mouth, but they heard them nevertheless. 

“I think she’s going to cum,” Yunho said smugly, maintaining the same pace throughout. “I can feel that pussy getting tighter and tighter.” He pulled them out to rub your juices over your clit and back down, your clit getting a break from tongues to enjoy fingers instead. Your mumbled whimper amused him, and he repeated the torturous motion again. 

“I don’t know if I want her to cum yet,” Seonghwa pouted, kissing up your body to your nipple which he suckled softly. “I just got here. Let me see…” His hand replaced Yunho’s inside you, also going slow and steady. You could feel his fingers prod your g-spot briefly, making you see stars behind your eyelids. Each stroke had you whining, and sucking two different cocks added to this pleasure. “She is close,” he agreed with Yunho. “Look at her, she’s shaking,” you heard the taunt in his voice, and you switched over to Mingi once more. Your eyes met his and his jaw dropped, “I bet you want to cum really bad, don’t you?” 

“Yes. Yes, please,” you gasped, taking a moment to breathe and stroking both San and Mingi. 

“Let me…” Wooyoung stopped using his mouth and instead fingered you right as Seonghwa withdrew. “Ooh,” he cooed, “It’s squeezing my fingers every time I go in. Especially when I go in deep like this.” 

He demonstrated by sinking his fingers into the last knuckle, pressing on your g-spot and making you cry out. He did this repeatedly a few times, and brought you so close you nearly went over. He pulled them out to rub over your clit once more. He started rubbing your clit up and down while Yunho’s fingers filled your pussy again. Seonghwa took occasional flicks and licked up the mess your juices made. It reminded you of the time San and Wooyoung tied you to your bed, where they teased and edged you the way you liked. You went back to sucking Mingi’s cock, the blond haired man groaning as you hollowed your cheeks for him. Seeing your shaking thighs and hearing your moans, the other members sensed your orgasm from afar. 

“Come on, now. You know you want to cum.”

“You don’t have to hold back anymore, baby. We want to hear you cum.”

From across the room, your eyes locked with Hongjoong’s. He sat in the arm chair at the end of the couch, lounging casually and watching you like he’s watching his favorite tv program. The sight of him passively observing you somehow made you more sensitive. 

You’d never tell a single soul just how much you enjoyed Hongjoong’s cock. You'd never reveal how his dick was the one you craved during lonely nights; how you loved the feel, the taste, and the size of him. He’d been your first, and he’d always carry that title with him. Yunho sunk his fingers deeper inside, moving them faster and angling them a bit higher; Wooyoung worked on your clit while Seonghwa reached up to suck your nipples. Hongjoong caught your gaze, and groped the bulge growing in his pants. 

“Cum,” he mouthed out, biting his lower lip and eyeing you closely.  

As if activated by his voice alone, you climaxed. Body stiffening on the couch, muscles contracting, your eyes squeezed shut as your orgasm blew through you. You suddenly became so hyper aware of the men stimulating you; the men watching you in the room and eagerly awaiting their turn with you. Yunho kept the same pace during your orgasm, the motion of his fingers making your eyes roll back. It was absolute bliss. 

Coming down from your orgasm, you saw Jongho and Yeosang preparing a space in the center of the living room. Jongho placed down blankets from around the couches, while Yeosang put pillows where you’d be more comfortable. Seonghwa guided you from the couch to a space on the floor, where he let you kneel down on a long pillow cushioning your knees. Taking up your hair again, this time he eased his cock into your mouth. Your throat already accustomed to it from Mingi and San, you took his cock with nearly no difficulty. The entry burned your throat every so often, and brought tears to your eyes. They brimmed your eyelashes, and trickled down the sides to your cheeks. Seonghwa only wiped them away with his thumb. 

"Take it easy," he said gently. "You don't have to be so hasty with me."

Seonghwa never bragged about it, but they considered his dick ‘above average’. Not huge or disturbingly big, it still took a bit of effort where penetration was concerned. When he went in, you definitely felt him for sure. You gingerly sucked and licked him, not taking him in your throat until you felt ready to do so. 

“Look at him,” Seonghwa told you, and you knew who he meant. “Look over at him while you suck me off.” You glanced over at Hongjoong, who’d started stroking himself under his pants. You wanted so badly to walk over and pleasure him yourself. But, you knew he wouldn’t want that. “You know how much he likes watching you be used like a little fuck doll. Give him something to watch.”

Seonghwa let out a low groan as you started sliding your mouth up and down on him. You felt the heat of Hongjoong’s eyes on your body; you felt them peeling away at you until he reached your core, where your dirtiest fantasies lay hidden. Opening your mouth, you stroked Seonghwa over your tongue so Hongjoong saw thin droplets of precum fall into your mouth. You enjoyed the salty taste, licking up from base to tip and spitting some onto it before sucking on it again. The arousal flared when Yunho took up the space next to you and grabbed your hand to wrap around his cock. After choking yourself on Seonghwa’s dick the way Hongjoong liked, you did the same to Yunho, who let out hoarse groans as you did it. Yunho never pressured or forced you to pick up speed; he liked letting it naturally play out between you both. Jerking Seonghwa at the same speed, strings of profanities and moans came while you took turns on each one. Soon, more drool leaked from the sides of your mouth, which you usually wiped away, but Hongjoong was watching. He liked you messy. 

San knelt behind you. You knew it was him by the warm hands starting to roam your sides. He reached around to your pussy where he started stroking you lightly. Your clitoris still felt sensitive from your first orgasm, yet you craved more. One hand spreading your lips apart, the other moistened your entrance with the cum left inside you. You gasped around Yunho’s length when you felt something hard pressed to your entrance. San swirled his tip around your sex a few times, moaning softly before sinking it an inch or two inside. You let go of Seonghwa and Yunho to lean forward onto another pillow, arching your back to slide more of him inside. A whole new wave of euphoria arrived the moment he filled you completely. You lifted your head to realize Hongjoong was not that far from you, possibly a few feet. His eyes went from your face to where your body met San’s, and he stopped stroking himself. 

“How’s that, baby?” San asked, starting off with a steady speed. “Hm?”

“So…So good,” you whimpered, “Go faster. Please.”

He didn’t disappoint. San drove his hips into you faster, and you felt his cock reach further inside. Right as he got into a proper rhythm, another member took the space in front of you. Jongho, the youngest of them all, smirked down at you. He held his dick out in front of you, slowly rubbing it as he’d done this entire time. 

“Now, it’s my turn,” he said, scooting closer to you and lifting your head upright. “I’ve been dying to fuck your mouth all night.” 

“Pl-please,” you said through gritted teeth as San held onto your hips and pulled you onto him. 

“Then open up.” 

He eased himself into your anticipating mouth. Jongho took no effort at all, and he always kept gentleness laced into the roughness. He grabbed the back of your head and pushed himself as far as he could, yet did not do so roughly. Your constant stream of whimpers and whines became stifled by the cock buried hilt deep in your mouth. Jongho’s precum added a new flavor to the mixture already there, and also left your cheeks and chin a mess. You could feel the other members around you, awaiting their turn while Hongjoong looked onwards. Even if you couldn’t see him, you knew he watched. Jongho occasionally released you so everyone heard your guttural, hoarse moans from San’s thrusting hips. 

“You look so pretty like this, Noona,” Jongho huffed, using that affectionate formality he knew sparked something inside you. “All dirty and horny while we use your…your holes,” he said, pushing himself back into your mouth. “I could do this all day.” 

“Me too…” 

Yeosang knelt beside Jongho, who withdrew his member to let Yeosang go next. Much like Jongho, you had no trouble sucking him deeply and firmly. Suddenly, you became surrounded. Two hands grabbed your breasts and pinched your nipples, while a third hand languidly stroked your clit. From the sounds around you, Seonghwa and Yunho played with your nipples and Wooyoung once again touched you further down. A sharp smack on your ass came from Mingi, who took hold off both cheeks and spread them as San charged inside you. In a few long strokes, San stopped completely and something dripped onto your ass hole. 

“Her ass is so nice,” Wooyoung moaned, no doubt looking on as Mingi rolled his thumb around your ass. “That’s another one I could eat all day if she let me…” 

Wooyoung’s oral fixation had no bounds, and you loved it. “Touch it,” you moaned, taking Yeosang out to say it, “Please. I love it when you play with my ass.”

They all laughed softly, and Mingi smacked your ass again. “Is that so?” Wooyoung’s hand left your clit for your ass, smoothing over one cheek before giving it a sharp slap. “If that’s true, then maybe I should eat your ass more often.”

“I bet she’d cum just from that alone,” Mingi said, bending to lick the hole which caused you to cry with Jongho in your mouth. “I’d love to try one day.” 

“She has,” Wooyoung told him. He joined in the teasing, spitting and swiping over it with Mingi. “She can be a real filthy slut when she wants to be.”

“The filthiest.” Hongjoong’s high voice reached you over the commotion, and you pushed yourself into San’s hips faster and harder. “She’s nothing but a dirty pervert who craves our dicks all day long.”

“Hyung!” Yeosang huffed with a laugh, even turning over to look at him. 

Jongho and him moved to look at Hongjoong, but he only had eyes for you.  That familiar glint of depraved lust winked at you, and you so badly wanted him to join. But, you knew he wouldn’t right away. Hongjoong managed his arousal way too well for your liking. The others could become almost feral when in the moment, but not Hongjoong. His cock stood up straight, laying on his stomach and twitching at the lightest ministrations but he did not give into that primal instinct inside him. Having him watching you this way brought you closer to the edge on San’s member, making you grunt in every push. 

“Isn’t that right, YN?” he asked, running his fingers up and down the underside of his engorged hardon. A trickle of precum wet his fingers, and you licked your lips. He laughed, “Answer me.”

“Yes!” you squeaked as a finger started rolling around the rim of your ass. Wooyoung spat between your cheeks again, and he spread it around. “Oh fuck, yes! Yes, yes, yes! I am a filthy slut! I am!”

Your answer satisfied him, and he continued touching himself. “Show me then,” he said, “Show me what a slut you can really be.”

You continued working on both Yeosang and Jongo, switching between them every so often to pleasure them both while Wooyoung’s fingers pushed right into the brim of your ass. Seonghwa then lifted you up as far as San’s dick allowed and spoke into your ear. 

“I want you to ride me,” he said, licking the edge of your ear to kiss your neck, “While your real owner watches you.” He rapidly began rubbing your sensitive clit, making you clench your thighs and squirm. “Because that’s what he is. We might date and fuck you, but you’re his. All his. I want him to see how good I fuck you when he’s not here to do it.”

San, having overheard the conversation being so close, added, “He loves watching us fuck you this way. He’s even asked me to fuck you in front of him before, you know.” He leaned close to your ear, “Be a good girl and ride Seonghwa for your owner.” 

Seonghwa laid down beside you and the others released you. Yet, right as he did this, a small blue packet landed on his chest. You all looked up to see Hongjoong holding a box of condoms. Beside it, you spotted a bottle of lubricant and a gray shoe box. You gulped at the sight of the box. You knew what was inside, and it excited you. But knowing them, they won't pull those out right away. 

"We have these for a reason," he said, putting the condoms on the couch where they could easily grab it. "Please use them."

Seonghwa smirked at him, and tore open the condom wrapper. Once he slid it over his cock, you straddled him. On sore knees, you sunk yourself onto him right away. Leaning forward, you kept your back arched as more hands rubbed over your body. Yeosang and Jongho took turns stimulating your clit as you started gradually rocking on Seonghwa’s dick, causing you to fall deeper into a whirl of pleasure. This new angle had his cock pressing into your g-spot again, and their hands only pushed it along. Wooyoung left your ass for your mouth, which you opened gladly to let him in. Seonghwa, with a perfect view of Wooyoung abusing your throat, moaned in utter satisfaction and pushed his hips into yours. It was the wet tongue and fingers on your ass that excited you immensely. San, most likely lying fully on his stomach in between Seonghwa’s legs, had pulled your buttocks apart to lap at your hole. Your muscles tensed once more as Seonghwa angled his body to bury deep inside you; the arms holding you up started trembling and you knew you’d give out right away. 

“Lay down, baby,” Wooyoung said, kneeling down over Seonghwa’s head and bringing you at level with him, “That’s it…just relax and-Ah, fuck, hyung!”

“You shouldn’t have brought them so close to me,” Seonghwa chortled, and you saw his tongue flick over Wooyoung’s balls. He hummed around one and the vibration made Wooyoung wriggle over him. “Such a sensitive boy; just like our sweet YN.”

And so you both went to work on Wooyoung. The slim, dark-haired man whimpered and moaned at the two mouths pleasuring him. Your second climax finally arrived when Mingi’s fingers slipped into your ass without warning. The mixture of all the different sensations had you tearing up and shaking uncontrollably. Wooyoung’s cock sunk deep into your throat, just so he could feel you moaning around him. 

“That’s it…Just like that,” Seonghwa moaned from underneath, “Cum all over my cock. I love feeling your pussy get tighter around..me…” 

“Be nice and loud for Joong-hyung,” Mingi groaned in your ear, keeping his fingering careful and slow. “He loves hearing you cum like that. Yeah, just like that.” 

He cooed at you when your orgasm strengthened and you grew louder. You finally stopped, shaking and quivering, as it came down. Every muscle in your body felt weak, but the burning desire to keep going overpowered the physical tiredness. It was everything you pictured it to be. All the nasty, self-disrespecting actions you always pictured yourself doing even despite your self-respect were coming true. The best part of it was Hongjoong’s approval of the treatment. 

“Come here, angel.” Mingi grabbed a condom from the box next, and laid down next to Seonghwa. “Turn around for me,” he said and you did as told. 

You expected him to slide himself into your pussy, but instead, he pushed his tip to your lubed ass hole. When you gasped, he paused, “I need you to relax, okay? Take a deep breath for me.” When you nodded and tried calming down, he said, “Just let go and enjoy yourself.” He rubbed his hands up and down your back soothingly, “I’m going to fuck you in your ass now. You can go at any pace you want; don’t feel you have to go too fast or too hard. Fuck…yes, like that. Take it nice and easy, angel.”

He grunted when you gingerly sank halfway down on him. “Mingi-ah,” Hongjoong said, “Here.”

He passed Mingi the lubricant from the couch. Cold and sticky, Mingi poured a bit onto his length and then on you. While it made your ride easier, nothing compared to the stretch and full feeling it created. Anal always left a lasting impression, especially since it made you feel particularly stuck on him. Yeosang knelt down in front of you, giving soft kisses to your shoulder and collarbone. 

“You’re doing such a great job, darling,” he praised, kissing the base of your neck. “I know you’re getting tired, but you only need to go a little longer, okay?” He massaged your bottom tenderly, pecking your lips and kissing you softly. You watched him take up the lube and squirt some onto his fingers. “Want me to finger you?” he asked, tracing cold digits across your heat, “While Mingi fills your ass? I know you love having more than one.”

“Yes,” you whined, sinking fully onto Mingi before slowly coming back up. “Please.”

Yeosang sunk two fingers into you, and you moaned loudly. He let you grind and brush into his palm each time you went down; he sometimes picked up the pace if he thought you’d grown too quiet. Out of habit, you grabbed his boner to stroke slowly. The addition of lube he poured on the tip had Yeosang softly panting in your ear. You’d been lost in the feeling of the two men pleasuring you that you didn’t notice Yunho coming up beside you with something small and pink in his hand. 

“I think I know exactly what our pretty girl needs,” he said, voice full of mischief. “Just keep riding Mingi while we do the work for you.”

You looked at him to see a body wand in his hand. Your pussy instinctively clenched Yeosang’s fingers, and he pushed them further inside to wriggle the tips close to your g-spot. The gentle vibrating coming from the wand made you nearly dizzy from stimulation, creating squeals and high pitched cries whenever it rolled directly onto you. Yeosang removed his fingers so Yunho could place the head of the toy right over your entrance. You started bouncing on Mingi faster, the vibrations causing sharp tickling sensations that matched the feeling from behind. Yunho did not move away; he followed your hips wherever they went, even wiggling the wand from side to side. The members watched in awe as Mingi held you in place and started pushing into you. 

“Yun…Ho…” you cried, tears welling up in your eyes from the overstimulation. “Yunho, it tingles!” 

“I know, baby,” he smiled, “Hongjoong-hyung gave it to me for us to play with. Tell him how happy you are that he got it for you. Go on.”

“I’m ss-s-s-so ha-happy! Ah-” 

Yeosang put his fingers back inside when you leaned back and Yunho tapped your clit with the wand. Your third climax hit you harder than the first two. Your body turned stiff, your head cocked to one side and eyes squeezed shut tightly. Yeosang waited until you’d fully stopped to slide his fingers between your parted lips. Sucking them eagerly, you let out several shaky breaths and did your best to stay up straight. 

“You okay?” Yunho asked, tucking hair behind your ear. “Do you want to take a break?” When you shook your head, he said, “You don’t have to take all of us right now if you can’t. We won’t be upset. You’ve done so much already, baby.” 

You turned your head to look at him, starting to ride Mingi again, “I want to keep going. I love it too much to stop now.” 

He smiled and kissed you, “If you ever want to stop or have a break, you know the word to use, right?”

You nodded. 

“What is it?” Yeosang asked, kissing down your chest. 

“Buttercup…”

“That’s right. Good girl. Lay down on the couch for us,” Yeosang said, “Get comfortable.”

Yunho helped you over to the couch, where you rested against Yeosang in front of a large pillow and sunk into his comforting arms. Yunho lifted your ankles to his shoulders, and rolled on a condom before handing one to Yeosang. He waited until you settled down to sink inside you. Yeosang then pushed his own cock into your ass, since now Mingi stretched it enough that the pain did not burn so hotly. Both men worked you gently, watching you melt between them as more pleasure pulsed through you. Seonghwa came back up to the side of the couch, body wand in hand, and rolled the vibrating head over your nipple. The tickling feeling surged down in your loins where Yunho and Yeosang slowly pushed in and out of you. Jongho came beside the lower half where his fingers lightly ran over the lips of your pussy, making you squirm and tremble. Your walls clutched Yunho tightly, and this made him thrust deeper and faster. 

“Are you going to come already?” Yunho panted, holding onto the backs of your knees as he moved. “Is your pussy that sensitive?” 

“Ye-yes,” you nodded, huffing and puffing from exhaustion as the men used you. “It feels so…good…” you kept your eyes closed as they all worked on you. “Don’t stop no-now…I’ve wanted this for such a long-long time.”

“Is that so?” Yeosang asked, grabbing your breasts and holding them for Seonghwa’s toy to tease them more accurately. “Maybe Hongjoong is right. You are a dirty slut. Is this what you were thinking about when I caught you using your toys in the bathtub? You remember that, don’t you?”

You did. Vividly. You recalled Yeosang walking in by accident, seeing you sitting on the edge of the tub and holding a vibrator to your cunt. He’d joined you right away, fondling and kissing you while sliding the toy in and out. “Yes,” you moaned, “But I still liked it when it was just you.”

“So sweet,” Yeosang awed, thrusting up in time with Yunho now so they filled you together. “Go ahead and cum again for us. You can do it, baby. We know you can.”

A fourth orgasm erupted in a scream. Yunho and Yeosang kept the same pace, but Seonghwa and Jongho focused their efforts on your clit. Seonghwa pushed the toy down while Jongho held the lips apart. Sharp pain and pleasure mingled inside and you quaked in their embrace. They hardly gave you time to relax as Yunho and Yeosang withdrew before Jongho got his hands on you. Laying you on your side on the floor, he lifted one thigh above the other and slipped himself inside you immediately. It was then you noticed the box. A small gray shoebox with a designer label on the side. Hongjoong didn’t only bring the body wand. He brought the whole box. Jongho started pounding you right away, moaning your name and squeezing your tits while you stared at the box at Hongjoong’s feet. He gave you his devilish smirk and nodded to the toy box. 

“It doesn’t hurt, does it?” Jongho asked, bending over to your ear. “I’m sorry. I can’t help it. You feel so good and I’m so fucking turned on by you.”

“Don’t stop,” you muttered, pushing into him and keeping his hands on your chest. The remains of your last orgasm, and the pure adrenaline coursing in your body kept you going at this point. “I want you to keep going. Please?”

Jongho, always needing reassurance you wanted him, started rocking himself deeply inside you. “I’ve always wanted to do this with you,” he admitted to you, kissing up your neck, “It’s why I like fucking you in my room when Yeosang and Wooyoung are there. I like watching you take more than one cock at a time.”

“Jongho,” you giggled, pushing back into him, “You naughty boy.”

“You make me naughty,” he smirked, pushing deep inside and staying there. “But,” he pinched your nipple gently, “There’s someone here who likes watching you more than me.” He kissed your cheek, and then said loudly, “Hm, I wonder what I should do with our girl next? Hongjoong-hyung?” 

“Spread her legs open,” Hongjoong suggested, leaning back in his chair and looking on. “So we can see what her pussy looks like being abused by your dick.” 

Jongho laughed, then lifted your leg to rest on his shoulder. Fully spread apart, Hongjoong was given a clear view of your soaked, sore pussy being stretched once more. Mingi pulled the gray box towards him, and rifled around before finding the bullet vibrator. A baby blue toy the size of an egg was then pressed to you and Jongho met from behind you. Both of you felt the light vibrations that made Jongho more desperate for release. While you cried and pleaded, Wooyoung came to level with your head and pushed himself into your open mouth. You did your best to suck him, but Jongho’s dick pushing to your core once more with Mingi’s toy buzzing around your sex, it became difficult. 

“She can’t even suck my dick properly,” Wooyoung laughed, not upset or disappointed but amused. “Such a dumb little doll. Let me help you, baby.” 

He didn’t wait for you to answer as he started sliding himself in and out of your mouth. Diving deep into your throat, you sputtered as a moan tried escaping you but was blocked off. “She’s loving this,” Mingi smirked, “I think we should do this more often just for her. I know she’d love that.” 

“We don’t want to work her too hard though,” said Jongho, who pecked kisses along your leg and ankle. “It might hurt her a lot.” 

“Nah, it’s healthy for cock hungry sluts to be gangbanged once in a while,” said Hongjoong. “They need to be fucked into oblivion so they remember what they’re good for.” He held back a moan as he said, “She needs to remember she’s just our little cum dump from time to time.” 

Some members stifled laughter at his bold, cruel words but you only whined. Yes. Yes, that’s what you were: a toy for the members to release their frustration on. Companions do so much more for idols and idol groups, but sex is usually involved. You didn’t mind. You’d known this from the beginning; you lucked out having loving partners, since not all Idol Companions have such good experiences. You showed that side of you to them right now by submitting to their whims and pleasures. 

Mingi put the toy right underneath the nub, and with a few more pumps from Jongho, you clamed up again. Another orgasm came so quick and hard, not even Wooyoung’s member stifled it this time. All the members cheered you on, encouraging you to cum one more time or spread yourself further to let Jongho go deeper. Hazy and dizzy, you collapsed onto the floor. You might as well be a pool of jelly. Your holes ached, your jaw burned, and you thought you’d pass out any moment. But, you had more to do. You hadn’t gotten the thing you wanted the most. The boys put you back on the couch, letting you sink back into comfort as Wooyoung grabbed an anal plug Mingi handed to him. Both men prepared you for the small pink plug before sliding it inside. Being on your back, the toy would be pushed in and out of you as Wooyoung sucked up the juices smeared on your thighs and leaked from your entrance. His warm tongue soothed but also pinched your clit whenever he touched on it. 

“Wooyoung just fuck her already,” said San, joining in by flicking your clit with his tongue. “I’ll take care of this right here.” 

“But I like eating her when she’s been fucked a few times,” he replied, licking up your thighs. “She’s so sensitive and responsive afterwards. I love hearing her mewling and whimpering like this.” He quickly rolled his tongue around your clit so you made those exact noises. San hurriedly joined in and both men eagerly ate you out. “Do you like that, YN?” asked Wooyoung, sucking on your clit and forcing the plug deep in your ass. “Hm, do you?”

You let out a stream of incoherent sentences, and they laughed. “Silly baby,” San awed, pouting and kissing your clit, “So fucked out she can’t even form a sentence.” 

“Been fucked stupid,” Wooyoung smirked, “Exactly how I want her when I put my dick in her.” 

Tears spilled from your eyes as both men took advantage of your weakened state. Wooyoung sat up right, condom already rolled on, and sunk himself into your aching, throbbing, burning hole. You could hardly see straight, the room becoming blurry in your glazed tears, and your body became numb to everything except the pleasure Wooyoung and San provided. It didn’t take very long for Wooyoung’s soft panting to turn into high moans, eyes full of need and desire as your pussy pulled him into you. 

“Please cum, Wooyoungie,” you mumbled, reaching out to his chest and torso so he felt your hands on him. “I want you to cum all over me.” 

“Say that again,” he moaned hurriedly, picking up speed, “Say that again.” 

“I want you to cum all over me. Please, Wooyoung. Please?” 

“Yes, yes, baby. I…I…”

He withdrew right away, tearing the condom off, and you looked down to see his glistening cock twitching as he stroked it. Thick droplets of white fell onto your lower stomach before shooting up to your chest, where the musky scent and sticky heat started to cover you. You admired Wooyoung’s lithe, slim body; his tanned skin beaded with sweat and black strands sticking to his temples and forehead. His lean muscles constricted, and his soft lips parted in every groan. He finally stopped with a few more pumps before San took his place. Lifting your legs up, he slipped on his own condom,  and started fucking you right away. 

“You just lay there, baby,” he said, “Be a good toy and let me use your pussy.”

“Yes, Sannie. Use my pussy to cum, please,” you panted. 

“Do you want me to cum on you too or somewhere else?” he asked, bottoming up into you carefully. 

“On me. Please. All over me. I want it all over.” 

“Of course you do…” Hongjoong walked up beside you, crouching down to where your head laid and kissed your temple. “Any self-respecting slut loves being cummed on,” he leaned into your ear and traced light circles over your nipples. A faint, fresh scent came off his clothes and skin; he’d showered before the movie and it still clung to him. It added another layer of comfort and relaxation. “And being cummed in too,” he groaned in your ear before kissing it, “Just wait until it’s only you and me. I’m going to breed that pussy the way it’s meant to be. I’m going to breed you nice and hard and deep,” he gave your nipple a pinch, “And you’re going to take every drop and keep it in you.”

“Hongjoong, but…”

“You know I’ll take care of you,” he assured you. “I only want to see how pretty you look with my cum dripping from your holes. You’re already so beautiful covered in cum.” 

“She always looks so-s-so good,” San huffed. 

Like Wooyoung, he pulled out right when he orgasmed. San tilted his head back, jerking quickly so thin streamers fell over your stomach and breasts. Hongjoong and you looked on together, watching San pump himself until he’d been completely spent. Mingi, the one who started this whole thing, went afterwards. He didn’t waste time with seductive words or praises. He pushed right into you, and didn’t stop until he was a sweaty, panting mess jerking over you. His streams mainly landed on your breasts, clearly where he’d hoped to aim. Hongjoong, wiping up a clear strip of cum, put it to your lips to taste it. 

“I wonder who will shoot into this slutty mouth,” Hongjoong said out loud, letting you suck more from his fingers. “They know how much you like to swallow their loads after they’ve fucked you.”

“Oh, I am,” Yeosang took his place beside you and pushed hair from your face. Hongjoong sat on the couch arm rest, still admiring your filthy, naked body like a work of art. “I want my sweet girl to drink every little drop I give her. Will you do that for me?” 

“Yes,” you said weakly. 

You stuck out your tongue as Yeosang rubbed his tip over it. You had no energy to properly suck or jerk him off, but you gave soft, kitten licks to the head until he started shaking in front of you. He called out in a loud cry like his orgasm imploded inside him. Streaks of cum flew into your mouth and on your cheek, but you quickly caught them by latching your mouth to the tip. Hongjoong kept your hair out of the way, and encouraged you to open up so Yeosang saw you’d swallowed all of it. 

“Good girl,” Yeosang rewarded you with a kiss, “Hongjoong better give you an extra special treat for behaving so well.”

“I will,” Hongjoong said fondly, as if doting on a child. 

Seonghwa stood a foot away, looking over your body as if he’d never seen anything as lovely before. “You know how much I love your mouth too,” he told you, already at the cusp of his orgasm, “Open it for me, baby. Just like that.” 

It didn’t take him much longer. What caught you off guard was Jongho, who’d taken Mingi’s place between your thighs. Both men came rather quickly, since they worked themselves up beforehand. Seonghwa slid himself in and out of your mouth while Jongho pounded you hard. Sucking Seonghwa off felt like eating a candy with a gooey center; it dribbled onto your tongue rather than outright shot into it. Seonghwa and Jongho both picked up their pace: Seonghwa’s cum leaked into your mouth even as his orgasm erupted through him; Jongho’s mainly trickled down over your pubic mound and the crevasses of your thighs. You swallowed the oozing cum, making sure Seonghwa saw you eagerly licking him clean before he withdrew. 

“Look at you,” Yunho smiled, taking Jongho’s place, “Most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen covered in a bunch of cum.”

“Isn’t she a pretty sight?”

“The prettiest.”

Yunho sunk deep into your leaking pussy, and gave into those primal urges inside. His nails dug into your hips, and his balls slammed into your ass as he used your body. The momentum caused the plug inside you to move around, and you almost came again from it. Hongjoong leaned down to your ear, and gave it a soft nibble. 

“Just one more, baby,” he said, “Then we’ll clean you up and I can breed you.”

The thought of being bred by Hongjoong excited you so much. Yunho’s cock pushed right into your center, and you started moaning. “I want you to, sir,” you whimpered into his ear. “I want you to breed me.” You’re not an idiot. You’re sleeping with several different men and you’re still young. You obviously take birth control, and they use protection to avoid pregnancies or diseases. But, the idea of Hongjoong’s bare cock pumping you full of his seed made you horny again. 

“Of course, you do,” he said. “You’re a fuck doll that loves being cummed in as much as possible. It only makes sense I empty my balls inside you the way a good owner would, right?” 

“Yes…”

“Fuck, hyung,” Yunho laughed in between moans, head back and pushing feverishly. “You’re terrible.”

“And she loves it.” 

Yunho soon removed his condom to spill his own seed like the others. It created a pool between your breasts and stomach, the thicker strands sliding down your sides and some remaining on your chest and chin. Yunho, his long, broad body hovering over you, only stopped when the last clear drop fell on your stomach. You took a glance around the room to see the others slumped on the couch; their bodies clearly worn out from giving the best thing they ever could. The only one fully alert was Hongjoong, who chuckled and kissed your forehead. Yunho pulled out of you, and so did the plug. He muttered something about cleaning up later, but you hardly heard him. 

Elation. Delight. Satisfaction. Only a few of the words to describe the feelings rolling inside you. A lopsided grin graced your face as you let your body melt into the couch where you laid. You wished to bask in the weightless after glow forever. It reminded you of the feeling after a long spa day, completely mellow. Hongjoong grabbed a wet towel he’d brought during his excursion for the toy box, and wiped most of the semen from your body. You loved his delicate, gentle touches; the care he always took when he looked after you. They all did aftercare in their own way, but it pretty much remained the same: baths or showers, snacks, water, and ice packs or lotions if needed. You heard about Companions who'd be left on the floor like garbage after rough sex. Your boys never did that to you. They loved you. Six years together proved as much to you. 

As the others started pulling on underwear or shorts, Yeosang brought you a water bottle that you gulped down in a few swallows. It’d do nothing for the taste left in your mouth, but it hydrated you. He mentioned something about tea for your throat, and kissed your forehead. Each man gave you a cheek or forehead kiss before leaving the room; Hongjoong and Seonghwa were the ones who brought you to the bathtub Seonghwa prepared for you. Hongjoong sat beside it as you slunk into the warm water. You deeply inhaled the lavender scented wafting from the bubbles, resting back on the bath pillow Yunho bought you. Hongjoong dipped a soft washcloth into the soapy water to wipe your face and neck, occasionally kissing you. Every muscle in your body turned into putty, barely having energy to remain up without Hongjoong’s help and effort on your part. Your center stung from being penetrated in so many ways, and your clit felt sore from the constant action. You’ll certainly need to go to the agency clinic now. But not yet. There was one member who hadn’t taken you, and he is the one you wanted the most. You noticed the erection still in Hongjoong’s pants, and you knew it’d be balls deep in you soon enough. 

“How do you do it?” you asked him quietly, looking up at him from your head rest. 

“‘Do’ what, baby?”

“Hold back like that,” you explained. “You’ll have a raging hardon, but don't do anything about it right away.”

“Practice,” he smiled, running the cloth between your thighs. Not in a sensual way, but to simply clean anything the water didn’t remove naturally. You winced at the soft cloth on your pussy, so Hongjoong went more carefully as he went further down. “I used to edge myself a lot when I was younger. I liked the feeling of holding back as much as I could before finally cumming. It makes that final orgasm so much better. Not to mention,” he casted a side eye glance at you, “There are certain people whose pleasure I care about more than mine. You know, people who mean so much to me and who I enjoy pleasuring first?”

“Seonghwa?” you said, a teasing smile on your face. 

“You, dummy,” he flicked some water at you and you both laughed. He peppered a few kisses on your lips, then said, “That doesn’t mean I’m not tempted to fuck you right here in this bathtub right now.”

“Then why don’t you?” you asked, hand reaching from the water to touch his knee. “I can take it. I promise.”

He smiled, taking your hand to wipe his cloth down your arm, “I know you can, but I know you’re tired too. I can wait, baby.” 

Hongjoong kissed the inner part of your wrist, then continued washing you. Hongjoong held you close as he dried you off in his lap, not caring if you wet his clothes, and brought you into your bedroom. After helping you into bed, Hongjoong undressed completely, exposing his body to you one piece at a time until he stood naked. Keeping on the lamp beside your bed, he slipped underneath the sheets with you and locked his lips with yours. You wrapped yourself around him and he slid his arms underneath your shoulders. Hongjoong let his hard shaft slide over your clit a few times, using his own precum to slicken your folds. When you flinched, he pulled away. 

“I’m sorry,” he said between kisses on your neck, “Do you still want me to do this? I can just rub it out myself if you’re too stimulated. I don’t want you to go through any pain for me.”

“I meant it when I said I wanted you to do it.” 

You reached into your bed side table where he’d left his flesh light the last time you slept together. Hongjoong rolled onto his back, pulling out a lube bottle from the opposite drawer and handing it to you. Sitting up despite your tiredness, you squirted a bit of lubricant onto his cock and coated it liberally. This motion alone had Hongjoong groaning and clutching your bed sheets. You really did love looking at his cock. The size and girth fit just right, never splitting or going too deep inside. You ran your fingers underneath the head, giggling when it twitched. Laying halfway on top of him, your thighs straddling one of his, you carefully sunk the fleshlight onto his cock. The groan of relief Hongjoong gave was enough to regenerate your arousal. His face scrunched up from pleasure, the pleasure he’d been withholding for a long time, was put permanently into your memory. When you looked down, you saw his dick filling the clear, silicone toy.  

“I love your cock so much,” you said in his ear, “I get wet thinking about the things you can do to me with it.” You slowly started grinding into his thigh, humping him in lazy motions while dragging the fleshlight up and down. “I kept thinking you’d fuck me in front of the others, so you can show them that I’m yours. Show them that my body is yours,” you kissed his jawline, “That my pussy is yours.”

He laughed. The same laugh he’d do before his verses in songs. A mischievous, mocking laugh almost, imprinted on the lustful moans he released. “I don’t have to fuck you in front of them for them to know that,” he said, pulling you close and grabbing one of your breasts. “They already know whenever they hear you cumming for me.” 

He slipped his other hand over your ass, giving a squeeze before feeling underneath it. The soft squelching sounds of the toy mixed with both your moans as you kissed. Hongjoong squeezed and fondled any part of you his hands could reach while you humped his leg gingerly. When you both became heated enough, Hongjoong pulled off the toy and rolled you onto your back. You prepared yourself for him to enter you by clutching the pillow under your head. Seeing you surrender yourself over to him, Hongjoong kissed you deeply while entering slowly inside you inch by inch. All the need and desire from the orgy came back, and soon Hongjoong’s growls and grunts filled your mouth. It didn’t take long for your lover to be quaking on top of you. A bit of thumb circles on your clit had you crying out his name again. Your hands slipped into his black hair as he kissed and bit down your neck, and across your collarbone; your hips pushed down into his simply to have more of him. You needed all of him. He sensed this from kissing you alone and bottomed up into you until you quivered in his arms. 

“That’s it,” he hissed, “Go ahead and cum just one more time. I want to hear it; go on.” 

“I don’t think I can.”

“Yes, you can, sweetie. Do it for me.”

The final orgasm came a bit fainter, but it still controlled you as it’d done the times before. You lost all sense as Hongjoong started going faster, causing your bed to hit the wall in light smacks. By the sloppy movements, and feral grunts, you knew he was close to finishing soon. 

“Cum inside me,” you said in a small, quiet voice. It was that innocent voice he loved hearing you do when he dominated you. “Please, Joongie. Cum in my pussy, please.”

“I will, baby. I…I will…fuck…”

Spreading your legs far out, Hongjoong lifted your lower half as he emptied himself inside you. In a series of long, drawn out groans, Hongjoong kept himself deep inside you as he came. You could feel his dick twitch against your walls, and coating them with his semen. The strokes he did were short and hurried so he could keep every drop deep inside you. You liked the feeling, you realized. Your hands dragged down his shoulders to his arms where you grabbed his forearms for support. Making Hongjoong cum this way, this hard, fed your pride well. He didn’t pull out right away when he finished either; he rarely ever did. You both laid on your sides, your leg over his hips to keep him inside you a bit longer. That final feeling of relaxation clouded over you instantly, and you finally gave into it. 

“Just go to sleep,” he whispered, kissing the tip of your nose and nuzzling it. “I’ll get the lights and clean you up.” He then chuckled, “That is, if Wooyoung doesn’t beat me to it.” 

“Huh?”

Hongjoong grabbed one of the squishmallows from the head board and tossed it at the door. You gasped at the sight of Wooyoung with his phone held up, who cackled and put the phone down. You laughed with him as embarrassment flushed your cheeks, and you buried your head in Hongjoong’s shoulder. 

“Out!”

“I just came to get my charger,” Wooyoung laughed in his defense, “I gave it to YN-”

“-Use someone else’s charger!” he scolded, breaking from you to launch another stuffed animal. 

Wooyoung continued laughing, wishing you goodnight and closing the door. You both heard his laughter as he walked down the hall, and you cuddled back to Hongjoong. 

“How many videos does that make?” you asked in a joke. “A dozen?”

“More like a hundred,” Hongjoong replied, bringing you into his arms and kissing your forehead. “He takes photos of you too when you’re not looking. I remember catching him filming you showering a few years ago; when you first moved into the dorm instead of living in the company residency.” He rubbed your back soothingly, and kissed you again. “I’ll get him to delete them, if it bothers you.” 

“I don’t mind,” you said, shutting your eyes and basking in his warmth. You felt a prominent stickiness between your thighs, and knew it’d bother the hell out of you. But, you felt too tired to really do anything about it. “You have videos of me too.”

“Yeah, I do,” he grinned, flashing you his cheeky smile before kissing you once more. “Let me clean you up, then I’ll shut off the lights. Seonghwa will make you some tea for your throat.”

“Okay,” you yawned, stretching your sore body and drifting to sleep. 

The last thing you remember is Hongjoong reaching for an ice pack you keep in a miniature fridge near the bed, feeling content and gratified. A part of you hoped they did it again, even if it did make you insanely exhausted and left you aching. You guessed you’d have to go to your appointment soon. ‘Bodily trauma’. Who would’ve guessed that? 

[ddiidi]

bf!Bangchan x gn!reader (ot8 mentioned)

Masterlist

When he calls you clingy, so you distance yourself

Previous Pt. 4

Pt. 5

!Warnings: angst, reader is confused about their feelings, fluff, reader tries to get better, swearing, term "princess" is used once, channie the therapist, fake!texts (lmk if i missed anything)

Side-Note: This might not be how most people expected it to be but I had to fix this somehow, also I think chan is a person to rather talk abt arguments 🤏🏽 also I'd like to do this random-question-number thingy, what do y'all think abt it??

It has been a week, since you basically threw Chan out and the past days, you kept yourself busy with chores all over your apartment, sometimes even doing the same thing twice, just to not think about what happened.

Chan texted you every day sometimes more, sometimes less, asking about how your day was, how you slept, if you ate something, but never if you wanted to hang out. You were glad he didn't ask, you didn't feel like seeing him, or anyone else, and your replies, if you even replied, we're really short and dry, often answering only after hours even though you've seen the message as soon as he sended it. You didn't want him to think that you're desperately waiting for a message from him.

You've noticed that you think like that very often since you didn't hug him back, almost as if something in you shifted, but you can't really tell what it is...

xxxxxx

You're currently washing up the dishes in the kitchen, while playing with the thought to extend your vacation, to one more week, when the door bell rang. You dried your hands on a towel and hurried to the door opening it, to see a package delivery man stand on the other side.

"I have a gift package for Y/n Y/l/n. Do they live here?" the man asks. "Yes, that's me, but I don't think I orde-" "There you go" the man interrupts you and puts the package and a bouquet of flowers in front of your feet, fastly walking off.

You stood there, dumbfounded, staring at the flowers. You sigh out and decided to take the package inside, at least it were your favorite flowers. As you sat the package onto the dining room desk, a sticky note fell out of the flowers, written on it: "Your co-workers said you took a vacation, so I thought I'll send you some flowers and some of your favorites to enjoy the days, take care princess ~channie"

That's so sweet, that's so sweet that it makes you feel bad for purposely avoiding chan. It isn't even that you're actually avoiding him, it's more like, you don't want to spend as much time with him, as you wanted before, but why? You walked towards your room, the package and flowers laying in the dinning room, untouched.

You fell face flat on your bed and groaned, turning over to your back. You didn't want to think about what happened that day, or what was wrong with you, but it seems like you have no choice. You love Chan and you don't want this dream relationship to end.

You've sat up in your bed and stared at your walk, for good 5 minutes before you decided to think about what happened the past weeks.

You thought about what chan said, all those hurtful things, his actions, your and his behavior, about what changed in your behavior...

That's when it hits you. You did, in fact, on purpose avoid him, but not because something is actually wrong with you, it's just that the words he said, the way he ignored you for a whole week, you took it all very serious, you took it to heart.

It's not that you hate him, it's that you hate the fact that you are who you are, that you're in fact clingy and over caring and that you don't want him to think that of you. That you avoid being with him so he doesn't say something like that every again.

Now that you think about it, it's just so stupid. He would never honestly think like that....would he?

You lay down on your bed, staring up at the ceiling. Maybe you should meet up with him again? You do miss him...but what if it ends like that day before...?

You groan and roll around in your bed, when you get a message on your phone

Should you just ignore the message?.... But then nothing would change.... Maybe you should talk to him about it, tell him how you feel and how much his words, did hurt you.... This would be for the best.

You stood up from your bed and went to the door, opening it.

There was a bag, filled with noodles, sushi, even soju. You picked it up and went inside again, leaving the door open for chan to enter.

You've placed the food on the dining table, put the flowers in a vase, took out 2 pairs of chopsticks out of your cabinet and two cups.

Shortly after, you heared chan's voice, as he entered your apartment.

"Baby, i'm here!" he yelled, a little too loud, you got a headache already, or it's just because you weren't used to loud sounds anymore, since you haven't been around the boys anymore.

Chan entered the dining room and back hugged you. You melt into his touch, a warm hug, filled with love. You've missed that, but the voices in the back of your head are screaming your clingyness, so you back away, as fast as you melted.

"Sit down and eat with me" you stated, and waited for Chan to sit down, before you took a seat yourself. You've missed this. Sitting at the same table with him, eating together, spending time, you grabbed your chopsticks.

But what if he thinks you're clingy right now too?... The grip on your chopsticks tighten, which didn't get unnoticed by Chan, who laid his own, to the side. "Y/n, Baby, what's going on? I can tell there's something off and you wanted to talk about something..." Silence. "Y/n love ple-" "What you said..." you interrupted.

"What you said that day, really hurt me. I've just noticed that it really affects me and I don't know what to do about it" you were on the verge of crying, but you didn't care. There's nothing that can stop the waterfall of words now.

"I love you, I really do. I miss you so much, I want to spend so much time with you as before but..." you sob out and let the tears fall, which Chan wiped away with his thumb. "But everytime i'm around you my brain says that you don't like it that i'm around, that you think i'm clingy...even now-" "No." your endless sobs were interrupted by chan.

"No I could never. Never ever could I think you're too clingy, never would I not like you being around me. I took your sweet, caring and affectionate personality by granted, and doing so and saying that, were my biggest mistakes ever" Chan stood up and walked over to you, squatting in front of you, wiping away your tears.

"I'll tell you that as often as I need to, as you want me to, you're my life, my everything and I could never replace you with anything or anyone. Cling to me as much as you want, I don't know, come to the toilet with me, do whatever you want, you can have it, you deserve it my love." He kisses your cheek, as you started crying even more.

"Don't stain your pretty face with tears again because of me please" he rubs your cheek, staring into your eyes and your mind is suddenly so clear. That's what you want, what you need, is right there in front of you.

"Channie...my love...you're...i love you I'm sorry I'm so clingy sometimes..."

"No. You're not clingy at all. You're loving and that's why I adore you even more day by day, that's why I love you even more day by day, and this will never change. We're getting through it. Together and forever clinging to each other."

xxxfew weeks laterxxx

"Babe am I too clingy...? Do you want me to get off you?" you ask him. You were currently curled up on Chan's lap in his chest, on the couch watching a movie. "No love, I love having you so close" he smiles down at you. "Are you sure...? I can get off you know?..." "More than very sure" he holds you tighter. Even though it's the 10th time you've asked him that in less than 10 minutes, he still says the same. Maybe it's not bad at all, being clingy. After all it's your man you're clinging to, no?

THE END TEEHEEE

⁺˚*･༓☾✧༺🖤༻✧✧༺🖤༻✧✧༺🖤༻✧☽༓･*˚⁺

@stay-tiny-things @finnbbl @emilyywhyy @wolfs-howling @justastraymoa @loveyouamory @muraae @callmekdab @seungquokka @vive-la-v-i-d-a @sunghoonnolgy @hwonsstuff @hwayne2294 @nilla56 @stephanieeeyang @lailac13 @mmarusa @chanchansgirly @kkamismom12

[captain039]

Daddy’s Little Girl

Logan x reader

Warnings: Age gap (early twenties reader) , swearing, first times, virgin reader, plus size reader, tension, oral f receiving, smut, daddy kink, dom!logan, Abuse, verbal and mental (Not from Logan), anxiety, depression, mention of self harm scars, reader has muscle issues and body pain

Kinda hitting home with personal:specific details for reader, but alas I need this man, I need this man bad 😂

Wolverine in the mountains as a Lumberjack is a wet dream

Set when Logan was in the mountains but modern day times

You awake to a loud knock and a grumbled hurry up making you sigh. You check your phone finding no overly important messages. You’re expecting a call from your sister this week sometime though. You miss her, she was Lucky enough to get out of this hell hole while she could. You dress quickly knowing your father will get pissed if he doesn’t see you in the truck in five minutes. You get your jeans on and a shirt before grabbing your boots and phone. You go down the stairs slowly, ignoring the way your hips protests. You grab a banana and shove your boots on before heading to the truck. Your dad waits, smoking in the drivers seat making you sigh silently inside as you jump into the passenger seat. Everyday he drags you out to the lumber mill, everyday he doesn’t give a damn if you need to see a doctor or therapist. Doesn’t care that he’s seen scars on your arms or that you cry most nights. You pretty much run this lumber mill even if your dads the boss, you keep track of the finances, locations, next sights, shipments whatever needs done that he can’t be bothered to do, all he does is swing an axe and let his anger out. Only good thing is Logan. Logan the man you crush on since he first started couple years ago. His perfect hair and smile, those jeans and leather jacket, the way he carry’s himself. His kindness towards you, the stupid hair ruffle he gives even though he knows you hate it, the making sure you’ve eaten during the day or asking if you need help. He’s too perfect, a goddamn dream and you’re a nightmare.

You head into the small trailer office and sit down rubbing the sleep from your eyes as your father greets his team. He smiles shakes hands and laughs making you loath him. You want to punch him, show them how pissed he gets and how fucking useless he is. You sag against the chair waiting for Logan to show up in his two seater low truck with that handsome face. You hate yourself, lusting after man twice your age, probably married or has plenty suitors. Ones that aren’t broken like you. You clench your jaw and unlock the computer cursing the slow wifi as you go through emails. It’s the same old and you’re bored of it, hell you don’t even get paid to be here your father says his house and his food are payment enough, not like you’re his kid or anything. You watch your dad and his team leave silently thanking god. Though a little upset you missed Logan. A knock comes at the door and you frown a bit.

“Come in” you call watching the door open. Logan steps in a smile on his face as he closes the door.

“Morning Bub” he says and you smile.

“Morning” you reply as he sighs and sits down on the small couch.

“Why aren’t you with the team?” You ask with a frown.

“We need supplies, your father told me to head into town” he said and you sigh, of course he did, too lazy to go himself.

“Wanna come?” Logan asks and you falter.

“Oh, yeah sure hang on” you quickly finish writing the email before logging off and shutting the computer down. You follow him out the trailer and to his car he smiles playfully as he holds open the door for you which you just laugh at and ignore the butterflies in your stomach.

You try not to glance at him every five seconds as he drives. How someone can be attractive while driving you’ll never know. It’s about an hours drive into town, the silence comfortable. You look out the window letting the wind blow in your face. Your phone buzzes and you frown taking it out seeing a message from your father.

We need more courier trucks this time, don’t forget

You huff softly, how could you forget he’s yelled it to you for the last couple of days.

“Everything alright?” Logan asks jolting you from your mind and you force a smile and nod.

“Just dad” you shrug switching off your phone and putting it back in your pocket. You finally arrive at the store following Logan inside.

“What we need?” You ask as Logan pulls a list from his pocket.

“Rope, saw blade replacers, chain, sharpener stones, beer” Logan smiles at the last part and you try to smile back. Beer always equals your father coming home shit faced and blaming it on you like you’re the one who got him drunk. You grab a trolly each and head down each aisle to get what you need before heading to the register. You scan the items watching the numbers go up and know you’ll probably get blamed for the prices too. Once you’re done Logan grabs his wallet and pulls out the company card before tapping and paying. You enjoy his closeness smell the cologne he’s got on this close too. You wait for the receipt before heading back to the Ute. You make one more stop to the liquor store before heading home.

You’re not even half way home when your phone rings. With your dad’s name flashing, you wince a little and answer.

“Hello” you say.

“Why aren’t you answering the phone at the trailer?” He says annoyed.

“I went with Logan to get the supplies you needed” you answer.

“Jesus Christ I give you one goddamn job and you can’t even do that right! You know not to leave that goddamn trailer during work hours!” His voice is scolding and pissed and you tense and try to ignore your stomach churning.

“We’re heading back now” you muttered not getting an answer back instead your father hangs up and you feel like crying.

“You alright?” Logan asks and you force a smile and nod at him.

Back at the trailer you notice your hips beginning to ache helping carrying things from the ute back to the trailer. You wince and silently curse knowing it’ll probably either be a flare up and another reason for your dad to yell or hopefully just some daily pain that Panadol can fix. It’s always the fucking first one. You sit down behind your desk and ring back anybody who tried to contact the office while Logan works outside. You glance to him every so often seeing him push his sleeves up, wipe sweat off his brow, a whole damn strip tease. You wish you had confidence or were thinner and older maybe then he’d give you a glance. You sag into the chair wincing when your hips decided to twinge in pain.

It’s just after five when the team return, you’ve hopefully done everything today and you’re feeling it. Logan hasn’t left either only to stop on break for lunch or smoke the cigars he has. You tried to tell him they’re bad for him but he just smiled and continued. Your dad looks annoyed and you can feel the home ride scolding already.

“All done?” Logan says suddenly making you jump not realising he was in the trailer. You jolt the wrong way and let out a pain of noise that has the man instantly concerned and walking over.

“Fine, I’m fine sorry I didn’t mean to make that noise” you brush off cursing when you can’t even stand up properly.

“You don’t look fine Bub” he says quietly.

“Ready?” Your dad interrupts and you nod forcing yourself up right. You walk a little funny out the trailer and down the steps.

“Bye Logan” your dad says.

“See ya boss” he says before saying a goodbye to you with a small worried frown. You smile and wave getting into your dad’s truck awkwardly.

“What the hell did I say with leaving without my permission? I had two damn phone calls while I was out!” Your dad scolds hitting the steering wheel in annoyance making you jump. You keep your head down and on your lap making sure not to move.

“Well?!” He snaps.

“Sorry, I figured Logan would need some help with supplies” you say and your father scoffs.

“Logan needs help my ass, you’re just trying to slut yourself out to the man!” He growls and the words sting. You’ve never had a boyfriend, never spoken to another man in that way.

“Like you did with Jason” he adds. Jason was the newest addition to the team a little older than you.

“Sorry father” you mutter.

“God sakes” he grumbles. He doesn’t say anything else and when you get home you know he’ll scold you for dinner before ordering pizza and beer. You head upstairs silently feeling tears prick your eyes before you force them down.

“Can I have a shower dad?” You call.

“Five minutes! Anymore I’m breaking the goddamn water line” he yells and you wince and hurry. You set a timer knowing he won’t be joking. You wash as quickly as you can before stepping out and drying yourself. You sigh not even feeling clean or refreshed. You barely have time to shave when you shower, barely have time to wash your hair too. You dress hearing your dad talking to the pizza man no doubt before he slams the door. You say into your bed, only reason you have your furniture and room nice is because your mother was still alive at one point. You hear your phone vibrate and see Logan’s name on the screen. You had all the team’s numbers in your phone for emergencies or anything company related. Your father shamed you for that too saying you’d send each man nudes or sex texts.

Hey kid, you alright?

Fine, thank you, nothing to worry about

you type back quickly and get dressed into some pyjamas. You’re tired but no sleep won’t come well and you’ll have to eat when your dad’s either passed out or asleep. You wait a while scrolling on your phone. When your mum was alive she got you a bank account open, you had to secretly apply for a government payment grant so you could at least get a phone and credit. If your dad ever found out about the money though he’d probably close the account or take what you had. Your phone buzzes continuously and you frown seeing Logan’s name. You answer a little confused he never calls unless it’s for work.

“Hey? Did you need something?” You ask voice hushed even though the TVs turned up loudly.

“Just checking on you, you sure you’re alright kid?” You a sigh a little, that stupid nickname.

“I’m fine thank you Logan” you say a little curtly without meaning too.

“Did you need something, did I miss something at work?” You add after some silence.

“No, works fine” he sighs a little and you frown. You hear footsteps and begin to panic.

“Sorry Logan I have to go” you hear him about to speak but quickly hang up as your father’s footsteps walk past and into his room and you sigh in relief.

You lay there awake till it’s about 8, hearing loud snores before you creep down stairs to get a sandwich and water before going back up. You sigh eating on the small couch in your room glancing to your phone seeing another text from Logan.

Night kid, sleep well

Your heart jumps a little.

Next part ->

[sweatervest-obsessed]

You're Keeping Me Down

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader (she/her)

WC: ~5.8k

TW: mentions of trauma, mentions of Maeve, kissing, previous relationships, swearing, alcohol, so much crying, bad decisions, girlbossing

A/N: ayo....angsty teehee. I hope y'all like it! It's a sequel to Dedicated to New Lovers and was inspired mainly by Sara Bareilles's Gravity, some Harry Styles, and other sad songs. I hope y'all enjoy it!! I really do love reading all of your comments, and tags, and feedback because it makes me so happy to know you guys are enjoying the writing!! <3

“You may not control all the events that happen to you, but you can decide not to be reduced by them.” ~Maya Angelou

Something always brought you back to Doctor Spencer Reid. No matter how hard you tried, no matter how much you fought it, something about the universe could not keep you away from him for too long. 

It was like the two of you were attached at opposite ends of a string, always pulling you towards one another, ignoring whatever you had been feeling beforehand. 

There was nothing you could do to escape him. You had tried traversing the globe, studying in Greece and Turkey, or taking vacations in the most remote villages of China; you had even done a two-week expedition traveling to Antarctica. But somehow, some way, Spencer Reid stayed in the back of your mind. 

Sometimes, it was like he was right next to you. You could still feel him next to you in your bed, or if you were alone in your car, your hand was absently reaching toward the passenger seat, only to feel the leather and not his leg. 

Maybe it was because all of those stupid little facts he had spouted to you were resting in the back of your mind, popping up when you’d come across anything he would have told you about. 

It was something you missed. He would just ramble on about anything to you, watching the joy on his face as he continued to speak, so grateful to have an audience, to have someone who cared. But you’d have to remind yourself that Spencer chose her as his audience instead of you. 

Her. 

The guilt of Maeve’s death followed you around more than Spencer did. At first, it was anything to do with therapists. The thought of choosing someone to speak to outside of your circle was a betrayal you had felt, and you couldn’t bring yourself to do the same. Then it was your distrust of your friends, watching as they became less and less frequent in your life. 

Work was all-consuming. You knew this fact well. Being one of the top profilers in the FBI meant that news of your transfer went fast, and the job offers came even quicker. But you decided to take some time off to rediscover the girl you once knew, someone outside her job. 

The BAU was simply your life for the past eight years. You worked at the BAU, you dated inside of the BAU, and your friends were all within the BAU–It was honestly a joke that it all had decided to come crumbling down once you felt secure in your life, in your job, in your relationship. 

You had filed the paperwork that allowed you to take two months of paid leave, not to leave the department. Your social media suddenly became filled with images of Ancient Greek monuments, Italian Vineyards, the French and Swiss Alps, and cities you once only visited in your wildest dreams. 

Escaping reality was the best way to rediscover who you are. And so you tried.

When you returned from your two months, you had walked into the BAU bullpen and straight to Hotch’s office. Your skin was tanner, and your hair was a bit lighter from all of the sun. You were suddenly this confident woman again, but you weren’t who you were before, making you nearly unrecognizable. 

“Y/N, please come in.” 

You smiled warmly at Hotch, giving him a quick hug. 

“You look good. How were your travels?” 

You smiled and leaned against the wall, not wanting to sit since that meant you would be here longer than you wanted. 

“It was everything I needed it to be, Hotch .” You nodded to the file on his desk with your name on it. “I take it Garcia ‘accidentally’ discovered my file and decided to drop it off?” 

Hotch sighed and opened the file, looking over at you. “Of course she did. I thought you were just transferring after your leave; I didn’t know you were leaving the Bureau entirely.” 

You nodded, a sad smile making its way onto your face. 

Hotch looked at you, replicating the same sad smile. 

“I wanted to tell you in person since I didn’t want you to find out via paperwork, but I should have known to come to your office first and then file it instead of filing it on my way to your office.” 

A soft chuckle passed through Hotch’s lips as he nodded. “We’re going to miss you more than before, Y/N.” 

“I won't be gone forever, Hotch. You can’t get rid of me that easily.” 

“I know.” He rounded the desk, giving you a quick hug, arm on your shoulder. “You have my number.” 

You gave him a quick smile, nodding, “Don’t worry, Jack will still be getting weekly updates about my travels, and expect a box of goodies occasionally. I have to uphold my reigning title of the coolest aunt ever.” 

As you left Hotch’s office, you didn’t notice Spencer at the coffee station. You didn’t see as he watched you quickly drop a note off on Emily’s desk and another on Derek’s desk before stepping into the elevator for the last time for the next two years. 

You didn’t notice the heartbreak in his eyes, and you didn’t notice the fact that he had overheard as you told Hotch you weren’t coming back to the FBI at all. 

But somehow, you found yourself back in that same elevator, visitor badge clipped to the new dress you had received as a gift from a friend during your month-long stay in India last year. The fabric draped across your body, highlighting how beautiful your curves were, and the colors brought out this newfound radiance in your skin, your eyes, your smile...

Color was the newest development in your life. The BAU meant that everything was in professional shades of blue, black, white, or maybe a subdued purple or green if you felt risky. But suddenly, your wardrobe burst through the rainbow as you experimented with patterns and shades, basking in this newfound joy beyond the world of suits. 

Eighteen months of experimenting–with life, with colors, with places you called home, with love.

You had two brief “love affairs” as Garcia lovingly called them. One was only two weeks long, but the other was a few months. Yet both were missing something special and could barely converse with you. Maybe that was how Spencer felt. And the sex wasn’t all that great either.  

And yet, after Eighteen months, an award, four nominations, a cat, a mediocre short-term relationship, and one groundbreaking dissertation that led to a Ph.D. later, you found yourself back in that damned elevator. 

You inhaled sharply as you heard the tiny ding, doors opening up to a sight that made your stomach twist. It was truly bittersweet to be back, to visit the place that once carried everything in your life, and to have it be so foreign to you. 

But what was not so foreign was how one Derek Morgan looked up as the door opened and his eyes filled to the brim with light. 

“Well, well, well, look who it is.” He dropped his file on his desk and met you in the middle of the side aisle of the bullpen, pulling you into a bone-crushing hug. “My woman.” He muttered into your hair, giving you an extra squeeze before pulling away slightly. 

“What’s up, sexy.” You laughed, thrilled to hear he hadn’t changed too much while you were away. 

“I’m sexy? Have you seen yourself recently?” He laughed, and you gave him a twirl, eager to show off one of your favorite dresses. “And where did you get this? Wait, wait, let me guess.” 

You pursed your lips, failing to hide the smile that was beaming across your face. 

“Was it your time in Taiwan? No no…Pakistan?” 

“So close. India. Maybe next time, champ.” You patted his arm, turning your head at the gasp behind me. 

“Do my eyes deceive me, or is that Doctor Y/N Y/L/N, world traveler extraordinaire?” 

“JJ, you saw me three days ago.” 

JJ pulled you into a hug. “Yeah, over Facetime,” she grumbled, not even trying to pretend she was upset at the sight of you in person. “You seriously have to stop sending Henry so much stuff.” 

“Some of it is for the other one, too.” You muttered to her, knowing she wasn’t fully public with her pregnancy at the BAU just yet. 

“I’ll be right back, I promise, I just have to say hi to Hotch first.” You placed your hands on their arms, turning towards Hotch’s office. As you went to knock on the door, it opened, leaving you face to face with the only person you weren’t ready to confront just yet. 

“Hi.” He breathed out.

And fuck you, he looked so good. 

“Hi, Spencer.” 

You watched as a wave of emotion rippled across his face. His name almost tasted weird in your mouth, not something you’ve often said in the two years apart. 

“I’ll, um..” He moved to step out of the way, letting you maneuver into Hotch’s office. 

But you had also tried to move, causing you and Spencer to almost collide, causing his hand to barely grace your waist. A spark flew through your skin at the thought of his touch, causing goosebumps up and down your body. 

You both muttered an apology, eyes not leaving the other until you quickly moved into Hotch’s office, causing him to move back, still watching as you closed the door in his face.

While you spoke to Hotch, catching up, Spencer was down in the bullpen at his desk, barely even trying to move them away from the windows. 

JJ and Derek stood around his desk, looking from the office to Spencer and back again. 

“She’s back.” He said simply when Kate approached them, wondering why they were all standing around, staring at Hotch’s office. 

“Who?” Kate crossed her arms, looking between the agents, hoping for an answer.

Spencer said your name for the first time in a very long time. And it was almost as if his brain whirred to life, like some part of him had been dormant for a long time. 

“Doctor.” 

Spencer gave Derek a weird look. “What?” 

“It’s Doctor Y/N Y/L/N now, Pretty Boy.” 

Spencer let his mouth fall into a small oh, letting his mind sink deeper and deeper into the pit of you. 

When you had originally left, Spencer decided to try and ignore you. It didn’t work, but he wouldn’t seek you out purposefully. He never looked up your name and tried to steer clear of the conversations involving you. But he wondered why you had never mentioned wanting to get a doctorate beforehand. He would have remembered something like that. He should have remembered something like that. ______________________________________________________________

The thought of Spencer’s fingers on your waist was the only thing you could think about for the rest of the day. Your skin hadn’t stopped tingling, and suddenly you wanted to drown in his touch, let his hands roam over your body and— “Stop it.” You said out loud as you put in your earrings. 

Your mind wasn’t playing far. 

“What did you say, sweetheart?” 

“Nothing, just talking to myself!” You called back, sighing as you smoothed out the front of the dress you had changed into. 

The team had decided to throw you a welcome-back party that night, generously hosted by David Rossi. And since they had all wanted an excuse to get dressed up, you gave them that much, meaning you had to dawn heels and a touch of makeup to accentuate the features you wanted. It also meant you got to pull out another stunning dress you had bought. 

Celebrating your doctorate, which you completed a year early, you had flown to Milan with Emily Prentiss and decided to go shopping, which is how you ended up with the current dress you were wearing. 

It fits you in all the right places, showing off just enough cleavage to be tasteful but maybe tempt something a bit more. You wondered if Spencer would like—

“God, I forgot how hot you look in that dress.” 

“Emily Prentiss, I could kiss you on the mouth.” 

Emily laughed and looped her arm through yours, staring at the two of you in the mirror. 

“Thank you for flying in on such short notice.” You whispered, unable to take your eyes off of the reflection staring back at you.

“We can call the whole thing off right now…”

You shook your head and smiled at her. “It’s for me. And I really want some of Rossi’s cooking right about now. Especially now that I can compare my worldly experiences with the Italian Masterchef himself.” You laughed, causing Emily to laugh with you. 

“Let's get going, yeah?” 

The ride to Rossi’s house on the outskirts of Washington D.C. made for a relaxing drive, filled with updates from your best friend about each other’s lives, even though it had only been a month since you had seen each other last. 

“I think you’re being perfectly reasonable, hun.” 

“You’re saying that because all I do is cry these days,” you grumbled, kissing the head of the black cat in your lap. 

Emily laughed and took a sip of her wine. “Or maybe I just know that you need a change of scenery. You’ve dedicated your entire life to the BAU and now you need to explore the entire rest of the world.” 

“I think you just want to go to Greece with me.” 

“You know how much I love Mamma Mia….”

You cracked a smile and picked up your glass. “Maybe Em, I’m not sure…I just…”

Emily watched as you looked up, trying to keep the tears from your eyes. 

“I know he’s not worth the tears,” you mumbled, but you exhaled slowly. “It’ll just hit me sometimes.” 

She stayed quiet, watching as you slowly worked through whatever was happening in your head. 

“It’s like he’s right next to me sometimes. I…It’s like sometimes my own head is against me for not talking to him. I heard a song the other day, and I immediately turned to tell him something about it and–It’s like he’s ruling over my mind—” You huffed angrily. “I feel like I’m not making any sense–god.” You downed your wine and placed the glass on the table. “Maybe I’m just meant to wallow and drink wine and be completely useless for the rest of my life…past my prime, past my worth. I was so—I was so fucking sure he was the one…Like there's this strong attachment to my chest and I’m connected to him for eternity, regardless of whether he loves me or not.” 

Emily pulled you into her arms while you cried, rubbing your back. 

“You are so much more than him, hun. You will go out in the world, figure out who you are again, and stand so tall, just how you’re supposed to.”

“So tall.” Emily looked at you as she parked the car in Rossi’s driveway. 

“Just the way I’m supposed to be.” You whispered, looking over at her, smiling.  ______________________________________________________________

You’ve been to Rossi’s more times than you could ever admit, but it managed to take your breath away every single time. After his first wife had passed away, he had put in a garden near the edge of his backyard, providing beautiful color for you to look at from the porch. 

Somehow, you always had a half-full glass, managing to have someone always get you a new drink when you seemed low. 

You managed to talk to Jack and Henry, telling them all about the wonders of the world you had seen, then being pulled away by Garcia to discuss that brief love affair you had in Argentina, which then led to telling Derek about your time in England, studying for your doctorate. 

Gratefully, you excused yourself when Rossi announced that dinner had been served, leading you to the tables set up in the backyard, filled to the brim with all your favorite foods. He had simply done too much. 

Dinner was filled with smiles, laughs, and chatter about the ‘good ol days’ and the newer memories being made. You had become acquainted with Kate Callahan, Emily’s replacement. She seemed nice enough, but you both were hesitant of one another. 

Spencer was sitting across the table from you. The two of you would catch glances at one another, passing moments where you couldn’t help but notice the way the wind ruffled his hair or the way the garden’s fairy lights reflected in his eyes. 

“So, what brings you back to Washington,” Hotch asks you the question every person at the table has been dying to hear the answer to. 

“Oh! Well…” You blushed slightly and shrugged. “It’s not that big of a deal, but I was just offered a position at Georgetown as an adjunct professor. If I take it, I’ll teach classes for at least the next semester. That is if I like it more than King’s College in London..”

The table erupted into congratulations, ending with a toast from Rossi.

You all raised your glass in “Salut”, and took a sip from your drink, but you couldn't help but look at Spencer, who was already looking at you. 

Excusing yourself from the table, you went inside quickly, walking towards the kitchen sink. You ran your hands under the cool water before splashing it across your face. 

“Y/n…”

There it was. The moment you had been dreading. The two of you were alone, no one else to buffer you, no one else to take your arm and drag you to the dance floor. 

“Spencer.” You turned around, your body leaning against the sink. God, you felt so small, so unable to watch yourself. 

“That’s a–that’s a beautiful dress.” 

“Milan.” You mused, fiddling with the ring on your pinky finger, unable to look away from the man before you. 

“Ah.” 

The silence hurt. Watching the two of you must have been painful because you could feel it. You once told this man everything about yourself; he once knew how your day went by one singular sigh. He could have told you what you were in the mood to eat for breakfast just by how you woke up. 

But now, you didn’t even know what to say. 

“Georgetown.” 

You nodded and looked down at your nails, seeming that they felt like a safer bet to look at. “Yeah, uh…should be fun. Can I–” You looked up at him. “Can I ask you something?” 

Spencer’s head nodded, and you pursed your lips, looking out the window and watching as your friends and family all laughed together and ate together. 

“When I was…um.” You cleared your throat, willing away the tears that had instantly sprung to your eyes. “When I was packing up all my stuff two years ago…I found the…W-Was it for her or…” You braced yourself for impact. Waiting for him to respond. 

Spencer’s eyes glassed over, and his mouth formed a small oh. He fiddled with his ring finger and looked out past you through the window. He couldn’t bear to watch the travesty he was about to cause. 

“You.” 

“Oh.” Fuck this. Fuck. You had sobbed over finding it for three hours while packing and then  sobbed again as you moved out. Somehow, hearing it out loud was worse. 

He was going to propose to you.

Spencer Reid had wanted to marry you. And god, that hurt. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with you, and then he told you that he wasn’t in love with you anymore. 

You didn’t care if you were reserving a spot in hell for yourself by damning an already dead woman. Her death meant Spencer could feel an ounce of the grief you just dug up. A sliver of the pain. 

Suddenly, you felt his hand on your jaw, a thumb on your cheek, wiping away the tear that had escaped your eye. “I am so sorry.” He whispered. 

And that broke the damn. 

He pulled you into his arms, and you let him, surrounding yourself with Spencer. Letting the smell of his cologne wash over you, letting him squeeze you tightly like he used to so long ago. The feeling of his chest rising and falling gave you such comfort that your brain was screaming at you to run away from it. You had finally built all your walls back up; you felt as if you could finally exist, but here in his arms, the world was silent. 

In his arms, you felt fragile; you felt so small. All of the strength you had was gone. And it felt so fucking good to not have to be the strong one, the person with the brave face. 

“I’m so sorry.” 

His lips kissed your hair, arm running up and down your back, trying so desperately to bring back that sense of comfort he once could provide you. And it was fucking working. God, why was it working. Why did it feel good? Why couldn’t you pull away? 

“Spence…” You mumbled into his shirt, that had been stained by your tears. You shook your head. “I can’t…We can’t…”

He pulled away from you slightly, eyes saddened, and you couldn’t tell if it was because you were rejecting him or because he still loved you just as much as you loved him. 

“I love you.” 

You pulled away from the kiss, hand on his chest, smiling brightly at him. “What?”

It was the most beautiful you had ever looked, Spencer decided. 

Your lips were puffy from how much the two of you were kissing, hair messy from his hands running through it, eyes wide with just as much love repeated in his own. 

“I love you.” He repeated, smiling beyond measure.

“Say it again.” You mumbled, yanking him back down to your lips, kissing him again and again. 

“I love you so much, y/n y/l/n.” 

You pulled away, laughter filling up the entire room. Pure joy echoed and bounced off of the walls. 

Spencer bit his lip, pulling away slightly. You hadn’t set it back. 

“Spence…” You cupped both cheeks with your hand, thumb rubbing over his bottom lip. “I love you too.” 

Just saying it caused you to giggle, full of love and pure joy. 

Loving anyone else would have caused you to gag–it still does. 

But the memory makes you shudder, causing you to step out of his arms, quickly wiping away your tears or trying your best to. 

The thought of love made you want to rip your head off. It made you want to sink to the bottom of the ocean and never resurface. 

Spencer said your name, making you shake your head. 

“You don’t love me Spencer. You haven’t for a long time.” The admission caused a resurgence of tears, making him take a step towards you. “No, Spencer, no.” 

You shook your head again. “I-I can’t…you hurt me. You…you left me for someone you had never even met. She was–god.” 

“I never loved her the way I love you.” 

“No.” You whispered, chest heaving. “No, no. You can’t..fuck. Don’t say that shit–why would you say that shit to me.” 

“Because it's the truth.” He said softly, too calmly for you to just ignore it. 

“How can you stand there and say that to me? You don’t mean it—You can’t..” The past two year’s worth of therapy, of moving on, of becoming your own, came crumbling down because fuck, you didn’t know what to believe anymore. “How can you just…You don’t fucking mean it.” 

“I know you don’t believe me, but I–”

“Don’t believe you?” You laughed at that, tears mixing with the stabs in your chest, dropping past your mouth as it laughed and laughed and laughed. “Then why did you fucking leave me. Why–Why–Why did you tell me to move out and…God Spencer, why did you come here tonight.” 

You were almost hysterical at that point; all Spencer could do was watch. He couldn't touch you because every time he tried, you’d move away or lose some part of your mind even more. 

“What about me was so–so–so, so boring, so understimulating to you, so desperately ignorant that you told me you didn’t love me anymore, that you kicked me out of our home, that made you reconsider wanting to marry me. And you know, I get it, I do. You found someone on your level intellectually, I get it. But still, I thought I was going to spend the rest of my life–what did she have that I didn’t, huh? What about her made her more appealing to talk to than me? ” 

“She…”

“She what, Spencer.”

“I wasn’t–”

“No.” You were leaning back against the counter, trying to gain some semblance of yourself back from the spiral you were on. “Don’t lie to me. Don’t give me some ‘unworthy’ thought process because maybe you’re fucking eidetic memory doesn’t remember all of the conversations we used to have, but I fucking do. I couldn’t cut them out of my skin if I tried, and god did I try.” 

Spencer stared at you, dumbfounded. He didn’t know what to do; he couldn’t function. All he could do was watch the pieces of you shatter all over, reliving the exact moments you were, but instead of being able to make it right, all he could watch as you closed yourself off more and more. 

“Y-you tried?” 

“God, Spencer, did you even look at me during those months.” 

“I…” He just looked at you, really looked at you. “I couldn’t.”

You scoffed, wiping away the tears on your cheeks, and straightened out your dress. 

“The only fucking thing I know is that if I don’t walk away now, then I will hate myself for the rest of my life for letting you talk me back into loving you again. And the worst part is, I still do. I don’t think I could ever love anyone again because of how much love I have for you, after everything we had been through, but—”

He kissed you.

Or you kissed him. 

You weren’t sure. 

But all you knew was that his hands were on your waist, and your hands were on his cheeks, and his lips were touching yours, and everything felt so right within the world, and your body was against his and just–

“Fuck.” You quickly pulled away, both of you panting, staring at one another, unsure about what happened. 

You two just stared at one another for what felt like forever until you heard Emily call your name from the porch. You took another step away, back against the kitchen counter, smoothing your hair and crossing your arms. 

Emily walked in and eyed the two of you, misreading the tension as something more antagonistic from before than what had actually happened. 

“Uh, Rossi made you a cake…” She looked between the both of you, watching as you nodded at her, standing up fully. You followed behind her, sparing one last look at Spencer, who was just looking at where you were standing. 

______________________________________________________________

“Uh, hi, sorry, could you point me toward Agent Hotchner’s Office.” 

The person whose shoulder you tapped turned around and gave you one of the most beautiful smiles you had ever seen. 

“Well hello, gorg–”

“Derek. Don’t be rude.” The woman next to Derek had elbowed him in the ribs, preventing more HR training for the both of them. “Hi. You must be Y/n. I’m Penelope, and that’s Derek, don’t mind him.” She looped her arm through yours and started to lead you towards the little staircase on the side of the room. 

“Hotch’s office is right up here.” 

“I–Thank you, Penelope.” You smiled at her. 

“I’ve read your file.” She whispered, smiling back at you. “I’m really excited to work with you because you are one impressive woman, let me tell you.” 

You blushed slightly, about to respond, but Penelope had knocked on Hotch’s door, causing a voice to tell you to “come in.” 

“Welcome to the team.” She pulled away, leaving you to enter Aaron Hotchner’s office for the first of many times. 

You opened the door and smiled at the man at the desk. “Hi, I’m–”

“Y/n Y/l/n, You have a very impressive resume. Please, take a seat.” He stood to shake your hand, gesturing to the chair before his desk. You quickly scanned the photos along the walls, the books on his shelves. 

“Everyone knows who I am before I know who they are.” You laughed slightly, taking the seat. 

“Yes, well, We’re all very excited to have you join us here.” 

The memory of your first day hit you like a wave when Aaron pulled your seat out for you back at the table outside. You stalled for only a second, but it was long enough for any of the various profilers at the table to notice something was off. 

You smiled through the speeches, and you laughed at the jokes and cried at the sweetness of your friends, but you were somewhere far away, dreaming about the moments that led you up to where you were. 

“And that is why I am glad to have you back because clearly, the universe respects you enough to let us all come together to celebrate the return of our Y/n.” You raised your glass and cheer with Rossi, standing up to hug him. 

“Now.” You smiled at all of the faces that looked up at you. “Let us eat cake!!” 

The table erupted and while Rossi cut slices for each of you, you sat back down, listening to what Garcia was telling you, but your eyes kept darting to the person directly across from you. 

You could feel his eyes any time they were on you, and you knew they were fleeting glances, but it was just too much. 

“Want to take a walk with me through the rose garden?” 

You nodded, standing up and accepting Derek’s arm, letting him lead you towards the garden, enjoying the fresh air and the sudden weight off of your shoulders. You couldn’t feel his gaze anymore but you knew he was still looking at you. 

“What’s next on your list of adventures.” Derek looked at you, watching the millions of emotions race across your face before settling on a smile and a shrug. 

“I’m not sure yet. You know about Georgetown, but I don’t know about D.C. anymore….”

Derek nodded and pulled out the chair at the small wire table. It sat under a trellis filled with gorgeously bloomed roses and baby’s breath. The smell was almost overwhelmingly fragrant. 

You gratefully took it and watched as he went and sat across from you. 

“You looked like you got a bit overwhelmed back there.” 

“What happened to not profiling me like I asked?” 

Derek chuckled, “It’s not profiling if it’s written on your sleeve.” 

You sighed and looked out at some of the flowers. “I don't…”

He let you work through it in your mind, just glad to keep you company while you figured your shit out. 

Eventually, you spoke up. “It’s weird.” 

Derek hummed in agreement. 

“I don’t know. Just. I felt like I was doing so well, and I was becoming my own person, figuring out who I was, and then I come back here, and suddenly I’m back to being that twenty-two-year-old kid who breezed her way through the academy. It’s like I did everything in my power to end up where I did, and then the universe told me I fucked up and should have done something else.” 

“I don’t think you fucked up in the slightest. Do you know how many people you saved?”

You went to brush off his comment, but Derek didn’t let you get a word in. 

“I know your entire world got completely fucked over, but you were meant to be in BAU. You were supposed to be there. I cannot think of my life without you, I know Garcia can’t, and I know Emily would tear you a new one if you even brought up to her the possibility that you being in her life was a mistake.” 

“Yeah, and now I’m thirty, with a doctorate and a cat, and no idea what to do with my life.” 

“But you also just spent the last two years seeing the world–how many countries did you go to…”

You pursued your lips, trying to count in your head. A blush spread across your face as you mumbled the number. 

“Sorry, wanna repeat that for me?” 

“At least fifty…” 

“That’s what I thought.” A very proud look crossed Derek's face, smiling at you. 

You looked down at your left hand, fiddling with your ring finger. No matter how hard Derek tried, no matter how much you enjoyed his company and the way he was keeping your ego healthily inflated, you couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that you could have been married–you could have been happy. 

“He told me when he bought it.” 

Your eyes snapped to Derek’s, and he looked at you with such soft eyes. 

That was something you had always loved about Derek. No matter how much he cared for you, no matter how gently he was being, he never treated you like a piece of glass.

“He, uh, I was the only one he told.” 

You nodded, waiting for him to continue. 

“When did you find it?” 

“When I was moving my things out of the apartment.” 

“Damn…” 

“Yeah.” You laughed. It was colder than usual but still antagonistic at the whole situation. “I…um. I found it on the last day when I was cleaning out my bedside table. He knew I never went into the bottom drawer because I literally never kept anything in there, but I checked because, you know, I was asked to leave, and…there it was. It was just…It’s ironic, really, how perfect it was, too. They say that if a guy can’t get the ring right, then he’s not the one for you, but no one preps you on if it’s the perfect ring, perfect size, but you had just broken up two days before you found it…” 

Derek nodded, letting you ramble. 

“I feel like I’m being weighed down by a million different things, yet they’re all him.” 

“What are you going to do about it?”

“I have no fucking idea.” 

"Sometimes good things fall apart, so that better things can fall together." ~ Marilyn Monroe

Part 3

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Tags: @lilrios-world @gubzgirl @mynameisnotokay @hereforfun22-blog @yoursarahg @mega-kittyglitter-1 @onlyspence

[makochi-furin]

Hii hii! I hope your doing okay today or tonight, I was wondering if you could write something for dazai (idm if it’s scenario, hc or mix of it and if you add another character you really want to write about).

The request basically is; a reader who finally told Dazai about their past abuser, how they got away with no consequences (who reader mentioned seeing sometimes in the city) and later said abuser goes to the agency on behalf their company to investigate missing items.

Stuff like this is really comforting for me so thank you if you do it :D I hope I put in enough detail for you to work with.

DAZAI AND CONSEQUENCES

A/N: baby, I’m so sorry, but this is long asf and I got a lil carried away💀 I’m also sorry it took a bit to get out. I work in a nursery, so I work 12 hours shifts, and this got to me slam in the middle of my first one (out of three in a row). If this isn’t what you wanted, you can send me in another ask :) But I hope you like it

WARNING(s): reader was in a physically abusive relationship in the past, mentions of PTSD, canon-typical violence, mentions of panic attacks, pissed off dazai, reader is a girl

—I'm gonna assume this is like a pt. 2 of this writing, but it can stand alone, too :)

—We all know Dazai is megamind over here. He sees EVERYTHING. Nothing goes unnoticed by him (which you probably find a little annoying, tbh, but oh, well). It's especially annoying when he knows things about you that you don't necessarily want him to know

—HOWEVER, if it's something that you physically and emotionally feel like you cannot talk about, like it brings you distress and discomfort, he's very unlikely to push you about it. Let's be honest, this man's probably never even told you the name of his parents. You don't even know if Dazai Osamu IS his real name, so he knows he hasn't got room to talk

—I feel like if Dazai noticed something about your mannerisms, or the way you act that very obviously speaks to past trauma, he'd ask you about it, like in my previous writing. If you're unable or unwilling to talk about it, he drops it. He SO desperately wants to know, but he cares for you too much to put you in any sort of emotional distress by pushing it

—When you do decide to open up to him, he's all ears. He knows how hard it is to speak about the shadows of your past, and he honestly is just so flattered that you trust him (he can't believe it, lmao. Like, three people in his life truly trust him) enough to tell him about it

—You were sitting on the edge of the bathtub in Osamu's apartment, absently watching him comb through his wet hair. The two of you had showered together, and you couldn't help but notice over the months of your relationship how much he had changed.

Osamu was flighty at first, and very distrustful. He wasn't a fan of placing himself in vulnerable positions. Not just to you, but to anyone. Yet, when you'd gently brought up his lack of self care, and how it made you sad to see the person you loved think so little of themselves, a change happened.

You helped, of course. At first, you reminded him to brush his teeth when he forgot, and then you began combing his hair. You'd point out when it was time to change his bandages, and call him to bed at an acceptable time because you knew he'd just stay up until the early hours of the morning (if he slept at all). Together, you two had even begun cooking meals, and he'd started to fill out a little bit.

Now, he made sure to do all of those things, even if you didn't remind him/cook with him, because he felt better, yes, but also because he could see how happy it made you.

He was still suffering from chronic depression, of course. You knew you couldn't fix that, and were thinking about gently bringing up a therapist to him, but he had gotten so much better. Even his coworkers noticed it.

Osamu dragged a comb through his brown waves, eyes narrowed as he focused intently on it. It meant so much to you. How could he not focus on it?

You knew it, too. He would've never made these changes for himself, but he had begun to trust that you had his best interest at heart. A few weeks ago, he'd even opened up about some of his own traumas surrounding Mori and the Port Mafia, about his best friend, Oda Sakunosuke.

Osamu trusted you.

That was why it felt so wrong to keep your own past from him, because he was finally starting to open up. You feared if you didn't return the favor, he'd wilt again. More so, you'd recently been catching yourself let parts of the story slip. Subconsciously, you wanted so badly to tell him.

"What are you thinking so hard about?" He asked lightly, brown eyes sparkling with so much affection that it had your breath catching. Osamu was watching you from the mirror.

You blinked, realizing you'd been out of it for a moment, lost in thought. In your lap, you fiddled with your fingers. Part of you wanted to shut down as your heart plummeted at the thought of reliving the worst of it...

But the way he looked at you, like you hung the sun and the stars, like he felt such fondness for you that 'I love you' simply didn't cut it...

It was time to tell him.

"Can... Can we talk?" you asked, surprised by the softness of your voice. It was almost ashamed, but you knew you shouldn't feel shame for what had happened to you.

Only, you were so scared he'd feel ashamed of you.

Osamu was a great aim, and he was smart as a whip, and he was oddly strong for his thin figure. He'd never let himself stay in the sort of situation you did. He'd fight back.

You felt so small.

He turned to look at you, leaning back on the bathroom counter. His eyes were gentle and knowing, and you couldn't tell if you were upset that he already knew what this was about, or relieved. "Of course," he said with a little smile, squatting down in front of you and taking your hands in his. "What about?"

You gulped, knowing there was no turning back now. If you told him this, you'd be trusting him with probably the worst part of your life. Even imagining it, the past with him, made you sick to your stomach.

You knew you'd backtrack if you didn't just rip it off like a bandaid.

"I overreact to things sometimes," you whispered, and he squeezed your hands. "I'm sure you've noticed it."

"I wouldn't use the word 'overreact.'"

You chewed on your lips nervously, staring into his eyes. Thankfully, all you saw there was understanding, but it was still so hard. "My ex beat me. For years... Anytime I did... anything, pretty much. It was bad." Your voice cracked as you continued, tears welling in your eyes. "I couldn't see my family... I ended up in the ER a few times. He broke me, Osamu. He had me convinced I'd never trust another man."

You waited with baited breath for his reaction, trying to hold in the tears. Your eyes stung and your breathing was speeding up into gasps, because you hadn't even told your family or closest friends the full extent of it.

Osamu looked oddly calm, but at the sight of your fallen tears, he got up to sit beside you. Wrapping an arm around your shoulders, he pulled you in close, flush against him, and kissed your temple. "Breathe, baby. It's all right now," he whispered, squeezing you close.

You couldn't stop it now, though. What had been building up since you left your ex was being released right here, right now. There was no turning back. Hot tears rolled down your cheeks and clouded your eyesight. Subconsciously, you grabbed his shirt in a tight grip and squeezed until your hand ached.

"He beat the shit out of me, and nothing ever happened," you continued, the anguish in your voice now laced by anger. "He broke my collarbone... my jaw—my ribs and my wrist. He made me feel like an ant, like I was so small, and I still feel that way now, and even after I left him... I'm still suffering, but he gets to go about his life like it was nothing. I couldn't even go to the police—he said he'd kill me," you got out through gasps, squeezing your eyes closed as your vision had started to darken at the edges, anyways.

Osamu's eyes flashed with something you didn't recognize, but all he knew to do was pull you in tighter. He placed a hand on your head and pulled you into his chest, and you certainly weren't trying to resist.

"It's not fair," you added, knowing how childish you sounded. Nothing was ever fair. Here you were, saying all this to a man who had probably done much worse than just break people's bones, complaining about fairness.

You weren't a child. You knew life wasn't fair, but that didn't mean it didn't fucking suck that it wasn't.

"Sometimes, I still see him, you know... In town, I—" You had to stop, otherwise you'd make it worse for yourself.

He held you close, rubbing your back and gently scratching your scalp as he whispered for you to breathe. Osamu knew you were about to land neck deep into a panic attack.

Eventually, he did get you calmed down. He got you to bed, made you a mug of hot chocolate, and read to you for about thirty minutes before you were able to catch your breath, his smooth voice calming you better than any benzo could.

In the end, you two lied down together, your back pressed to his front. The bandaged arm that was wrapped around your waist felt like a safety blanket. You were sure you'd be embarrassed about your outburst tomorrow, but for right now, you simply soaked up the feeling of him wrapped around you so snugly.

"You're not small," he whispered to you, and that was the last thing you remembered before passing out.

—Dazai doesn't seem different to you afterwards, in that he doesn't act differently towards you. You were worried at first that he'd see you differently, that he'd see you as being as weak as you saw yourself, but it was the furthest thing from. He respects the hell out of people who can go through such terrible things, and yet come out so kind, so good

—While he doesn't seem different, inwardly you can bet he's raging. Dazai is PISSED OFF, more than he's been in years. He's made great progress, but let's not forget that Dazai can be a cruel mf. He's got a darkness in him that he doesn't want you to see, but it is definitely there

—He doesn't press you for anymore details, but he can't help himself. He digs. He uses his brilliance to find out who the guy is, who his name is, and any time he feels even a slight bit of guilt at digging into your past life without your knowledge, he reminds himself of the injuries you listed.

—You thought he'd forget the things you admitted during your confession? PLEASE. He needs to know everything about this fucking piece of work. If he has a photo, he might even text it to Chuuya, along with a message "wanted alive," and you best bet Chuuya takes it seriously (even if he hates Dazai, lmao) because just by LOOKING at the photo of this guy, everyone can tell he's an asshole. And you still see this mf sometimes? Man is RAGING

—Dazai stands on business, because seeing you so torn up about it physically hurts him. It makes his heart ache every time he remembers you in that state. He can't fucking stand it, and he has to do something about it

—Your words about it being unfair haunt him in his nightmares. You're right to a degree: the world isn't fair. However, Dazai knows that if it takes him a million years, he's gonna make this shit fair

—Then, what do you know, one day he's at the office and Atsushi comes strolling in with a Manila folder and the piece of shit, himself. There he is, practically served to Dazai on a silver platter

—"This is Tanaka Jiro," Atsushi chirped, missing the way Dazai's eyes widened when he saw the new client. "He's here on behalf of the engineering company that got broken into last night."

Dazai sat up in his chair, staring right at the man who had the gall to make you feel small and weak. His eyes darkened, and then he slowly smiled. It wasn't happy or gentle, or even playful and teasing.

He smiled like Mori smiled.

In that moment, if his coat was black instead of tan, he'd look the picture of his younger, crueler self. He supposed that part of him never went away, always there just at the edge of his subconscious.

He promised Odasaku that he'd push it away, that he'd do good. However, he felt that even Odasaku, his kind friend, would understand the necessity of it now.

Immediately, he jumped out of his chair and made his way over. His hand landed on Atsushi's hair, giving it a playful ruffle. As he looked at him, his eyes softened. "Maa, Atsushi-kun. You work too hard, you know. I'll take this case for you."

Atsushi stared at him with obvious shock, eyes wide and jaw on the floor, because Dazai never, ever volunteered to work. If anything, he complained about it like a child.

"D-Dazai-san?" he breathed, in disbelief. It looked like he thought someone had killed the real Dazai, and was now acting in his place.

"Ah, ah," Dazai chirped, shoving Atsushi away. "Go do normal teenager things. Flirt, make friends," his voice trailed off as his gaze slid to Tanaka, your ex, and the smirk lifted his lips once more, eyes flashing dangerously, "all of that."

"O-Okay," Atsushi mumbled, still in shock. He recovered quickly, smiling brightly at Tanaka. "Dazai-san is a very good detective, Tanaka-san. You're in good hands!" he promised.

Tanaka smiled back, and seeing the bastard have the audacity to smile had Dazai seething internally.

Maybe, he'd take all his teeth, so that he could never smile again.

"Thank you for your help, Nakajima-kun," Tanaka said, nodding.

As Atsushi walked off, Dazai tilted his head to the side, his plan already formed. "Follow me to answer some questions, and then I'll begin investigating right away."

—For Dazai's plan to pay off, he needs to figure out who broke into the company. It wasn't a planned event, and he quickly figured out the guy who did it probably had no connection to the company (probably just a low down thief looking for some quick cash), which made it more difficult. It was the sort of not-really-a-big-deal crime that the agency would usually put on the back burner (the only reason it even came to them was because the thief was figured to be gifted), but Dazai worked tirelessly at it

—He interviewed people, looked over documents from dusk to dawn, and just generally put in a hell of a lot more effort for this than he usually would for some petty theft

—You probably even notice how hard he's working. There are bags under his eyes and he's back to not taking very good care of himself, but when you ask about it (obviously worried), he just smiles gently, kisses you, and assures you that he'll have this case figured out in no time. He doesn't want you anywhere near this

—When he does find the criminal, their interaction goes something like this:

"I know you did it. Give me the shit you stole, and I'll let you off."

"Bet."

—He has this part meticulously planned out. While your ex is in work one day, Dazai plants the stolen items in his car, and then calls the company security

—He watches with glee as he's dragged from the building, kicking and screaming like an enraged toddler, and fired on the spot. Your ex's livelihood? Gone. Phase one? Completed

—Dazai sat at his desk with a satisfied smile, chin resting in the palm of his hand as he counted down in his head. Everyone else is entrenched in their own workloads, barely even noticing the malicious sparkle in Dazai's eyes.

Soon enough, the door bursted open, and your ex came running in. His eyes were rimmed red, like he'd been crying, and he was flushed all over from rage. "What the fuck did you do?!" he demanded, pointing at Dazai.

"What do you mean?" he asked innocently, standing and walking over with the same smile.

Everyone else stopped what they were doing, watching the scene with widened, or curious eyes. This sort of thing didn't happen much at the ADA.

"You know what the fuck I mean, you piece of shit!" Tanaka screamed in his face, and it only made Dazai's smile widen. When he saw this, he hissed, "I think we should take this outside."

"Hold on," demanded Atsushi, immediately standing from his desk, along with Kyouka and Kenji.

Dazai didn't even look at them, staring into Tanaka's eyes, as he held up his hand to stop them in their tracks. The smile melted off his face, replaced by a cold glare and lips pressed into a line. "I'm fine," he assured them, light tone not at all matching his expression.

"But—Dazai-san," Atsushi mumbled, eyes flickering between Dazai and Tanaka.

"You guys are so dramatic," Ranpo said with a roll of his eyes, absently watching the scene from his desk, which his feet were propped up on. "Dazai-kun said it's fine."

Dazai tilted his head mockingly at Tanaka. "Are we going outside?"

That, they did. Tanaka stomped down the stairs and through the cafe, out onto the crowded streets of Yokohama.

Dazai followed, of course, even as Tanaka led him towards a darkened alleyway, obstructed from the view of the general public. Inwardly, he thought that this guy was making it way too easy. He was an idiot.

Tanaka stared at the dead end wall for a minute, and then let out a cry of rage, turned on his heel, and began running at Dazai with his arm pulled back and his hand clenched into a fist.

Nonplussed, Dazai side stepped it, loving every minute of the surprise on Tanaka's face. "What? Did you think fighting someone your own size would be as easy as beating on a girl?"

That had Tanaka freezing immediately. "What the fuck are you talking about?" he growled out, and Dazai almost laughed at his attempt to be menacing and scary.

Right on time, a black SUV pulled up. He might not be in the mafia anymore, but Dazai had plenty of contacts from it. When masked men jumped out of the vehicle, surrounding Tanaka, Dazai smirked at the look of pure terror on his face.

"Don't play dumb. You aren't handsome enough to pull it off," he said lightly, and then laughed as Tanaka tried to call for help.

He was knocked out before he could.

When he awoke, eyes all bleary and with a searing headache, he was in a big, dark warehouse. It was old and beaten, with leaking pipes and creaky doors. He was sitting in a chair, hands cuffed together behind him.

Tanaka screamed.

Dazai walked in front of him casually, hands tucked into his pockets. "Scream all you like. No one will hear you," he said.

"Why are you doing this?! Who even are you, man?!" Tanaka cried, the tears falling down his cheeks. He looked so pathetic.

Dazai loved every second of it.

He hummed, walking forward until he was right in front of the bastard, footsteps echoing around the wide open space. Grabbing a fist full of Tanaka's hair, Dazai yanked his head back, so he'd be looking up at him, so he could see the icy glare, the hate.

"You hurt someone I'm very fond," Dazai said softly, tilting his head. "You hurt someone I love... And ever since she told me, I've been thinking of ways to make it fair for her. It's all I've thought about.

"She's not like you and me, you know. She's kind. She's sweet. She's good. You," Dazai scoffed, "you're pathetic. A man who has to beat defenseless women to feel good about himself is no man." When he leaned in close, so his lips were inching his ear, Tanaka whimpered. "And me? I'm the worst of the worst."

Now, all Tanaka could do was cry and plead, but Dazai wasn't having any of it. He let go of Tanaka's hair, letting his head fall limply, enjoying the sounds of his uttered prayer. "No god can save you from me," he told him in a pleasant voice, taking a few steps back.

Dazai crossed his arms and hummed thoughtfully, making a show of it. "I thought I could just kill you, but that's not really fair, is it? She has to live with what you did to her, and I think the fairest thing would be if you have to live with what I do to you."

"You're fucking psychotic," Tanaka whispered.

"Ah," Dazai agreed easily. "I've always been more of a proponent of revenge, rather than justice. See, she probably just wishes you'd have gone to jail." His casual tone melted into something deeper and smoother, deadlier. "Whereas I'm more of an eye-for-an-eye kind of guy, so..." He pursed his lips in faux thought, looking up at the ceiling. "What was it she said?"

Tanaka stared at him in horror, especially when Dazai stared him straight in the eye and smiled.

"Right. Broken jaw, collarbone, ribs, and wrist!" He said, snapping as if he'd just remembered it, as if your broken confession hadn't been causing him physical pain this whole time. "I have plenty of history with breaking jaws, so I guess we'll start there. What do you say?" he asked brightly.

Tanaka screamed again, the sound becoming a cry of raw terror as Dazai began walking towards him.

An hour later, Tanaka still sat in his chair, still handcuffed, but he was bloody and bruised. Every injury he inflicted on you, Dazai returned tenfold. He was delirious with pain, and in and out of consciousness.

Dazai grunted when he looked down at his hands, seeing the blood that absolutely coated his knuckles and bandages. He'd have to clean that up before coming home to you.

"You up?" he asked, walking closer.

When Tanaka immediately flinched back, Dazai hummed with satisfaction.

"I won't kill you," he said, as if he was doing Tanaka some great favor. "You're going to go about your pathetic, little life with no job, and every time you look at yourself, you'll remember this pain. You'll finally feel at least a fraction of what she did."

Tanaka just whimpered. It was hard to speak with a shattered jaw.

Dazai smiled at the sound, crouching down in front of him to force Tanaka to look him in the face, in the eyes. "The men who kidnapped you are going to drop you off at a hospital. They'll ask what happened, and you'll be tempted to tell them. So," his tone lowered into a hiss, breaking the somewhat casual facade now that Tanaka had physically felt his anger. There was no point hiding it now. "I'll tell you the same thing you told her at her lowest point, that defenseless girl who didn't stand a chance against a piece of shit like you: tell the cops, and I'll kill you."

Dazai stood, jaw clenched. "And I'll be watching you from now. Step a toe out of line, hurt anyone else, and I'll bring you right back here. Only, that time, I'll probably just go ahead and do the whole world a favor, and shoot you in the head.

"I bet no one would miss you at all, because that's how small you are."

With that, he walked away.

—I know that was pretty brutal, but to be honest, y'all, Dazai was a whole ass executive in the PM (the 'demon prodigy'). He tries to hold it back in the ADA (per his promise to Oda and his care for the others), but let's not kid ourselves. The guy does have the capacity to do some really evil shit, and I think if he'd do it for anyone, it'd be you

—It just pisses him off so much to feel helpless, especially when it comes to you. He couldn't save you, then, but he can damn well set the record straight. In his head, he had to do something. At the very least, he had to stop this guy from doing it again

—You were eating dinner with him that night, and hadn't really noticed anything out of the ordinary. Both of you were just sitting at the counter, digging into some instant ramen, and you probably wouldn't have noticed if you didn't pay such close attention to him.

There was a speck of blood on the collar of his coat.

"Hey, what happened?" you asked, concern pinching together your brows. Worried eyes scanned him over, looking for any sign of injury. You found none, though.

"It's not mine," Osamu answered, and then took a bite of his food, looking pointedly away from you.

You pursed your lips, tapping his wrist. "We don't lie to each other, O-sa-mu."

He couldn't help but smile a little at your tone. His eyes finally met your's, and he tapped your wrist back. "It's not a lie. It's-not-mine."

"It's a lie by omission if you don't tell me what happened."

You were terribly confused when his eyes softened, and then he gently pressed his hand to the back of your head, bringing you closer until your foreheads were touching. "What's wrong?" you mumbled.

"I can't tell you everything," he admitted slowly, eyes shut. He looked so peaceful, like he was where he was meant to me. Honestly, when Osamu was all soft like this, it took your breath away.

"Then tell me part of it," you breathed, reaching up to cup your hand around his neck. "Did something happen?"

He stayed quiet for a long time, though you didn't know how long. It was like he was contemplating something serious, and that both confused and worried you.

When he finally did speak, it felt like time froze. Everything froze.

"I made it fair. He won't ever hurt anyone else again. I made sure of it."

The words were a whispered promise, and you automatically knew what he was talking about, of course. He was mysterious, and he had been distrustful at first, and you knew he had once been in the mafia, but he was also the person you trusted the most in the world.

Osamu always went above and beyond for you, and you didn't feel as safe anywhere as you did with him.

You believed him wholeheartedly, and found that this admission was enough. You didn't need to know the details, and probably wouldn't want to.

The relief you felt was enough.

"Thank you, Osamu."

—Look, he's so bby girl with you, but he don't play when it comes to your abusive ex💀

—Just... just honestly don't fuck with the people this guy loves, okay? He's gd diabolical, and he can be so cruel to those that hurt who he cares about, so... Just watch it if you're tryna show out to his girl, okay, lmao

[thecosmosdefys]

hi how u doin?♥ would u do general relationship hcs for ghost and könig pls?? :)<3

What dating Ghost & König would be like

Pairings: Ghost x GN ! Reader, König x GN ! Reader

Warnings: Violence, Cussing, Death

Synopsis: Just headcanons of how I would think Ghost or König would be in a relationship!

Author's Note: HIIII! Im doing good thank you so much for asking! Also I wasnt sure if you meant like? Ghost x König or like X reader headcanons so I went with what I thought you mightve meant? If this isn't what you wanted don't be afraid to put in another ask for my inbox!!! Also just want to note how excited I get when someone puts an ask in my inbox- I get so excited- It literally makes my day! Love you guys <333

Dating Ghost

I feel like if you dated ghost, at first he would seem a little cold around you? Like he wouldn't know what to do with emotional or physical intimacy. He doesn't give you the cold shoulder but he is so awkward at it at first.

Don't expect him to say I love you first, or even realises he loves you? Like before you guys start dating he is always around you, and picking to go on missions with you if your apart of the 114, but he doesn't seem to realize even though everyone around him does.

Once he starts getting comfortable with the relationship, he is like showing you off to everyone. You're like his prized trophy and he could not be happier. Like he's telling everyone all the time about you, and even your little accomplishments, god he loves you so much!

He will do things he doesn't want to do, if it means he gets to see a smile on your face? Like he hates christmas parties, but if you find yourself wanting to host one? He's already making a list of who's invited and what you might need. (He may even wear one of those ugly christmas sweaters for you but don't count on it.)

Physical intimacy? To him thats just even holding hands and it takes months for him to open up to you like that. But after he opens up, god hes all over you. In the mornings he's hugging you from behind. Never stops kissing you in public. He is disguting with his PDA, hes all over you all the time, and sometimes its cute and then other times your like "Simonnn stoppp" and he will... for 3 minuites-

He is so domestic when he is at home. If you need anything he is absolutely helping you. He will be your little apprentice when your cooking and everything. Sinks broken? He's fixing it. You are missing an ingredient for your food or baking stuff? He's on his way to the store to get it for you. You haven't been able to clean up the house? He's on his hands and knees scrubbing.

If you have a mental illness? He's helping in anyway he can. Even when he's away hes making sure your taking medicine if you're taking it, or reminding you about your therapist appointments. He is all over helping and doing his best to help make life easier for you even if just by a little bit.

Dating König

Literally what the fuck. He is the biggest god damn teddy bear you have ever seen. Out in public he is brooding and angry looking, but in private? He's on his knees doing anything you want him to do.

He is the biggest fan of soft touches. If you're out in public at the grocery store he's 100% rubbing his thumb over your knuckles, or just being sweet. He might brush your hair out of your face if it's in it or hindering your sight.

He will do your little routines and when I tell you it is hilarious to see this big beefy man, with a pink glittery face mask on his face, man its hilarious. When he's home he's doing your little haircare and facial care routines with you. He's oiling his hair, or putting face masks on, maybe even little cucumbers on his eyes. (of course you're taking pictures for blackmail.)

He remembers the little things about you. Sometimes when he comes back from missions he will have picked up something, or bought something that reminds him of you, or something you like. You had mentioned to him that you love forget-me-nots and you came home one day noy realizing he was home, and there was a bunch of pressed, perserved, forget-me-nots in a frame. (He ended up hugging you from behind and almost scaring you into dropping it a few seconds later but that's irrelevant)

He may not be super public about your relationship with him, but it is pretty obvious. When your out in public, he's behind you scaring the shit out of anyone who may bother you. You're his and he wants everyone to know that. Maybe you hang out with the crew one day and he has his arms slung around you, or wrapped around you in some way that screams "This is mine".

He may not actively always do things in the house, but he hovers around. He also loves to leave little things so that when he is gone you remember things that are important for you to do, he knows you have a bit of a bad memory.

Just like ghost, if you have a mental illness he is all for supporting and helping you. If you need someone to talk to he is holding you in his arms as you talk to him. He even makes sure your meds are always accessable to you, and helps in any way he can.

[beetlejuicyy]

Corruption (A Blessing for a Curse User) | Geto Suguru x Reader

Summary: Geto Suguru is your last hope when you start seeing curses. But his reason for taking you in is more perverted than he lets you see. Set sometime during those ten years before jjk0

Warnings: manipulation, smut with plot, overstimulation, oral (f! receiving)

Word count: 5,834

Read on AO3

Author's note: i couldn't stop thinking that geto would have canonically used pussy therapy to cope so i had to come up with a plot for it

Masterlist

Your steps halted after reaching the top of the stairs. So many times you wanted to come to the temple, ask for help, thinking, knowing that you had nowhere else to turn to. But you always hesitated, anxiety and shame taking over your mind. But fear prevailed, at last. You went to therapists, they told you it was stress, unresolved childhood trauma. You've never heard of people seeing monsters at lunch time because they had a narcissistic mother. They were everywhere. And they were looking at you, their disgusting sounds echoing in your ears even after running away. You haven't had a good night's sleep in a couple of months. The only rest you had was always in the presence of someone else, scared that the monsters might come for you. What were they? What did they want from you?

You had reached your limit last night. You went out with some friends, thinking a large company would help. But it was worse. So many, so different, so disgusting. Those monsters were everywhere, on people's shoulders, hiding behind the corner of a building, on the counter at the grocery store. You ran home, away from the crowded neighbourhood, took a cold shower and decided you couldn't delay it anymore. Otherwise you would go completely insane.

You had to see Geto Suguru.

It was right before sunrise, when the darkness of the night was melting into brighter shades of blue, the fresh air of morning filling your lungs, encouraging you to move forward.  You doubted anyone was there so early in the morning. You were determined to wait, in any case. You wrapped your fingers around the cold golden surface of the handle, hitting it lightly against the tall door. Behind, the tip of the sun was slowly creeping up, engulfing the world in a warm orange light.

"Good morning, miss early bird." You heard a gleeful voice.

Turning back, you noticed a tall, long haired man dressed in the traditional monk attire. His lips were curled up in a smile, although it lacked any warmth.

"I-I'm sorry to bother." You quickly apologized, trying to control your stuttering voice. "I-I know it's early but... uhm I am here for... I have a problem... I mean I want to talk to-" Maybe the sleepless nights were taking their toll on your concentration.

"I am Geto Suguru." The man said, his hands hidden away under the flowing sleeves of his kesa. "Come inside, I believe it is me you're looking for."

You nodded, following him inside. All the stories you heard from people who seeked out Geto's help were similar. He was kind and jovial, with a well developed, and borderline offensive, sense of humour for a monk. He helped everyone. But there was something off about him, you heard that often. Contrary to his gentle smile, people felt in danger in his presence, some describing it as a sensation of imminent death. You were feeling all of those things right now, as you walked one step behind him. Geto looked like he was coming from somewhere, not that he had just woken up to open the temple. You walked into an empty room, the only noticeable decoration being the three scrolls hanging on the wall.

Death to the Fool

Punishment to the Weak

Love to the Strong

Your steps froze in the middle of the room while Geto walked over, sitting down on the floor with the scrolls framing his head as he leaned his head to rest on his palm. The word weak blinded you for a moment and you couldn't concentrate on anything else but the thought that you were indeed weak. A fool? You weren't quite sure. Strong? Clearly not. You fitted perfectly into the weak category. You wondered if these were the principles of the man in front of you, a drop of sweat falling along your neck. You've never heard of these words used for any other temple. But you weren't the religious type anyway.

"Miss early bird?" You heard Geto's voice get louder and you realized you must have not heard him calling you before. You blinked, confused, introducing yourself.

"I think I'm going crazy." was the first thing you blurted out after your name. You didn't have the time to prepare a speech or rehearse anything. You let out whatever you felt first and Geto laughed, a mocking but harmless laugh that you couldn't blame. "I started seeing these weird monsters. Everywhere. Next to people. On the street. Some are even talking to me." Geto's attitude changed, his eyebrows raised in surprise. "I don't know how to get rid of them. Nobody else sees them. I don't even know if they are real."

"When did you start seeing these monsters?" He asked, his eyes paying more attention to your form now. It was faint, almost unnoticeable, but he could sense your cursed energy.

"A few months ago. Around the time I moved to the city. I'm from a small mountain village." You looked at Geto, your only hope, as he pondered on your fate. His silence made you more nervous with every passing second. More desperate. You didn't think you could bear to walk out on your own and see those monsters again. You would rather die.

Death to the Fool

Were you a fool?

"I want to be strong!" You yelled out as tears filled your eyes. "Please, please, please I don't ever want to see those things ever again!" You begged, falling on your knees. You were definitely weak. You sobbed in silence, not even noticing when Geto sat up and walked over to you. Your break down helped him make a decision it seemed. He crouched down in front of you, pulling your hands away from your face with his slender fingers.

"Miss early bird." He said as he wiped your tears away. You wanted to correct him, remind him that you had introduced yourself already, but his soft voice left you speechless. A softness, different from the previously dissimulated one, coated his words like a sweet ointment on your open wounds. "Do you know where these monsters come from?" You looked at him, eyes empty and confused, shaking your head. "They come from filthy monkeys." You frowned. Was he making fun of your suffering? "If you get rid of the cause, the effect would naturally disappear, don't you think?"

"Get rid of monkeys?" You asked, aware of the fact that, if he really was making fun of you, it was already unavoidable.

"A figure of speech." He threw his hands in the air, in a helpless gesture. "The things you're seeing are curses, miss early bird. And they are born out of humans that cannot control cursed energy." You would have snapped for sure at his reluctance to refer to you by name if his following words didn't make your eyes open wide in shock, unable to register the information you just received.

"So... I'm not going crazy?" You whispered, almost scared to say it out loud.

"You said you don't want to see curses again." His voice changed to a serious tone by the time your tears ran dry. "The only solution is getting rid of their cause. Monkeys." He spat out the last word with such spite that it had you jolt back in surprise.

"But I'm a human too..." You mumbled, finding this small error of logic in his story fatal.

"No, no." He waved a long, slim finger in front of your face like a toddler. "You have cursed energy. I can help you control it."

He sat up, gathering the the folds of his traditional robe. You looked up at him, one of his arms extended towards you, his palm just above your head.

"Do you want to help me kill all the monkeys, miss early bird?"

*

Out of all the people in Geto's inner circle, you clearly stood out as the weakest, dumbest and most useless. At least this is how you felt. His found family was, if you had to pick one word, peculiar. But even more peculiar than that was your very presence amongst them. You didn't have any basics, didn't even know this world existed until you begged Geto for help. He must run out of patience at some point, you thought. But everyday he found even the smallest moments to give you some insight or reevaluate your progress so far.

Geto Suguru was a proud man. After all, he was leading a cult. Your desperation hit a very sensitive spot inside him that he wasn't even aware existed. Something about your crying face, so pretty despite your agony, gave him the satisfaction of being your saviour. The feeling caught him by surprise as well. Usually, people begging him for help disgusted him. However, he took a lot of pleasure out of teaching you everything, starting with the most obvious things. Your eyes fixed on him, taking in his every word, so well behaved, so eager to make him proud.

It was a completely different feeling from taking care of Nanako and Mimiko. His care for them came from a genuine  concern, an honest wish to defend the people like him, wronged by the unfair world. With you, his protection and guidance came from a more perverted part of his soul. A part that he ignored for long, uninterested in trivial matters like this.

He enjoyed having all the answers for your questions. He enjoyed solving your problems, being the person you depended on. He was teaching you how to be strong, yes, but he also enjoyed knowing he would always be above you, no matter what. Something about your lack of pride, your straightforward questions, your awe in response to his knowledge and strenght, everything about you rubbed him the right way.

"Tell me again about your village, miss early bird." Three months later and he still insisted on not using your name. You were convinced he had to know it, he simply found it amusing to use this silly nickname. It didn't bother you anymore.

"It's very peaceful." You said as you poured Geto some tea. After you found out about his unpleasant technique, you made it your daily task to offer him some consolation in order to make up for the nauseating taste of curses he absorbed. "People are very close to nature, it brings a lot of peace to the soul." The tea you were preparing for him had calming properties, besides the floral mild taste. "There are no natural calamities and no thieves. People learned to take what they need from nature and share it with the community. The wi-fi signal is shitty, though." You joked and he smiled before taking a sip.

You found yourself fall for that smile. It was quite inevitable, if you really put some thought into it. He was so kind, so gentle, so generous, so patient with you. Not to mention his handsome face. Soon, you started wishing you could see more of what was hiding under his attire. You quickly learned how to distinguish between the subtle undertones of his smile. Maybe you were delusional, but you never saw him smile to other people like he smiled for you.

"Sounds like a nice place." That's what he would always say. You guessed the idea of your boring home village was some kind if utopia for him. No wonder you never saw curses before. They didn't exist there.

"Why did you leave?"  It was the first time he asked. He was usually more interested in the way the community worked, how people avoided conflicts, how secluded the place was or how many modern things were absent there.

"I had no future there." He nodded, understading your perfectly valid point.

"Would you go back?" He asked, his eyes already searching the answer in your wavering gaze.

"Only to visit." You answered. He already guessed that from the sad look on your face as you remembered about your home.

"Make sure you take me too some time."

*

You gradually grew closer to everyone else. The dedication of Geto's followers was quite impressive and it only made you want to compete even more fervently for his favours. You quickly realized that the basic martial arts you learned as a kid held more importance than you initially thought. Sometimes Geto would challenge you, only to have you immobilized humiliatingly fast. But thirty seconds turned to one full minute, then two, then five. The more you trained your body, the longer you were able to face him. And the longer you lasted, the more satisfying became the moment when he had both your wrists behind your back in a tight grip, his other hand in your hair while his weight pressed your body firmly on the ground. You've never noticed him paying time and energy with anyone's training, let alone enjoy defeating them as much.

"Gotcha, miss early bird." He would whisper in your ear and you would unsuccessfully try to resist, to break free of his grip, which only made him laugh and hold you tighter. "You'd be dead by now."

When he would finally move away, you would find yourself wishing he remained longer, althought the strain in your shoulders and the pressure of his weight were painful.

"Ten minutes, that's a new record." Geto would praise you when checking the timer. You thought your heart was about to explode out of your chest when he slipped the robe off his shoulders, groaning in the scorching sun of noon. "You've got me sweating, good job."

You were still laying on the ground, rolled on your back, watching his tall figure tower over you. The sun was behind him, like a halo around his head crowned with messy raven hair that fell down to his waist. You couldn't see his face clearly, the light behind him too strong, blinding you. But what you could see was the shape of his body, the round and sharp turns that shaped the contour of his silhouette. His broad shoulders, his fit arms, his slim waist and muscular abdomen right above the band of his baloon pants. In that moment, he looked otherwordly to you. A light in your brain was switched on and you completely understood why people gathered around him, why they pledged allegiance to his cause, why he was worthy of worship. You were left speechless, on the ground, at his feet. He had all the rights to step over you, punish you. Compared to him, you would always be weak, insignificant.

Geto noticed your awe. It was only the two of you, no one else in sight. He pretended not to, but the corner of his mouth was curled in a patronizing grin. All the light of day was reflected on your body, sweaty and gasping for air after only ten minutes of facing him. How pathetic. And yet, your weakness didn't trigger repugnance or malice. Your helpless attempts to fight back, fully aware that it was futile, delighted him. Especially now, when your eyes sparkled  in the sun, pupils dilated in veneration, your presence was so unbearably arousing to the point that all the blood seemed to flow into his cock.

"I looked into your fairy tale village." Geto finally said. You would have never stood up from the ground, willing to witness his greatness for the rest of your life. "There's a very high chance you have inherited a special cursed technique." You blinked several times, like trying to get rid of a haze covering your eyes. You sat up, your previously high ponytail only a tangled mess now.

"I don't understand." How could you be so shamelessly blunt? If he were in your shoes, Geto would be embarrassed to admit his lack of knowledge so easily. But in front of him, you bluntly and carelessly showed your most innocent and pure self, like a clueless lamb unaware of the coming slaughter.

"Remote villages are common but yours seemes to have the best of both worlds. No greed, no crime, no hatred yet it's fairly modern and economically thriving."

As the words left his lips he realized that maybe this was the very reason you trusted him so easily, laid all your flaws in front of him so he could pick and choose which way to build you up. You hardly ever went through hardships in life. You learned to trust the people around you. Consequently, seeing curses for the first time was probably the worst thing that had happened to you. You were so untained by the unfair world. So untouched. So easily breakable. You were a blank canvas of innocence with plently of space for him to paint any sinful whim residing in his soul.

"Turns out you're a descendant of an old clan of sorcerers who abandoned the old ways of jujutsu a few hundred years ago. Most were exterminated, the surviving never found."

You parted your lips in an attempt to protest but not sound came out of your mouth. Insead, an astonished expression fell over your face, as you watched Geto sit back down on the ground, a couple of steps away from you.

"You've never seen curses because jujutsu sorcerers don't produce curses. And your tiny mountain village was made up of exclusively descendants of this clan. It may be dormant, but your legacy is still there."

Geto's dark eyes shimmered with a violet shade in the sun, contrasting with his long dark locks that fell over his shoulders, absorbing all the light.

"Isn't it... the world you want to create?" You asked unsure, feeling like he was a teacher testing you. One wrong answer and you could fail the class.

"A scaled-down version, yes." He agreed.

Your eyes uncontrollably fell down his body, watching how his chest softly rose and fell as he breathed, how toned his arms were, how inviting his posture was. You felt a primal urge to crawl up to him, touch him, provoke him. And you did. Gathering your remaining strength, you closed the distance between your bodies. He stood there, unmoved, his eyes looking down at your smaller body, like a hunter watching his prey. Except that his prey was walking right into his jaws, so close. Now, the words death to the fool made perfect sense. A faint breeze of air brushed over both of you, so weak that only the ends of his hair fluttered in the air, grazing against your skin.

"Geto-sama." You said, closer to a whisper, afraid that the wind might carry your words for others to hear. "I believe I was born to serve you."

*

The stronger you became, the closer you got to Geto. Or perhaps it was the other way around. Needless to say, the toll his cursed technique was taking on his body and, more importantly, on his mind was painful to witness. There were times when he would keep the distance, isolating himself so his vulnerable side would remain unknown. A couple of days later he would come back to his usual self, as if nothing happened. Everyone was used to this rare occurence, respecting his space and his choices. After all, who were they to question master Geto's actions? But it always bothered you.

Whenever the sickening taste of curses would become overwhelming and his entire soul would feel like an abandoned landfill, Geto would try to find comfort and pleasure in distractions that could help him cope, keep him one step away from the edge until he would rebuild his strength again. Soon enough, such a distraction was the thought of you, or, to be more specific, the thought of things he would do to you. The idea of corrupting those innocent, honest eyes which trusted him too much. He was almost sure you've never been with a man before, and this detail only made the thought of tainting you with his touch even more pleasing. Geto's soul was damned to be the abyss that trapped curses while yours was so empty, so peaceful, so quiet. Perhaps this was the only thin string of common sense that held him back from unleashing all his urges upon you. If he did bring ruin to your serenity, what was left for him to cling to? Everything you knew about the world, about jujutsu, it was all throgh his lens. Your convictions, your ideals, your motivation they were all his. Your loyalty to him was unbreakable, but wasn't it really his merit? If he did, after all, choose to ravage the holy garden and taste the fruit, wouldn't it also destroy the unsullied image of him in your eyes?

These thoughts were harder to resist whenever you cluelessly insisted on being next to Geto even when he pushed you away. You were knocking at his locked door, telling him you prepared some tea.

The tea is fucking useless.

The real medicine for his nerves, for his fatigue, for his dark thoughts was you. Only you. He would drink all the tea in the world just to have you sitting next to him, talking about nothing in particular. Geto used to think that your relationship dynamic is unchangeable. He was playing god, building the world around you, while you cluelessly looked up to him, not guessing even a fraction of his thoughts or intentions. He was superior in every sense. Then why did he feel so vulnerable when you knocked on his door, spoke his name so respectfully? Why was it so hard for him to control himself, send you away like all the times before?

Maybe this was what addiction felt like. Or  was that tea really poisonous? Alone in his dark room, only a dim light creeping in from outside, Geto realized that maybe the dynamic you had changed. He changed. You gave him small bites of your presence, quick sips of your warmth every day until he found himself addicted. How could he send you away when you were the last remedy he could use to cope?

"Geto-sama?" You asked again when no sound came from inside his room.

"Come in." His voice was languid, reverberating in your brain like a lustful invitation. No, he was feeling sick. You were too caught up in your own desires while he was having a hard time.

His room was dark, unlike the brightly lighted hallway. It took a moment for your eyes to adjust to the change, but the first thing you noticed was the mass of long hair shining in the dim light. It was so captivating how in the bright light of the sun it was a dark shade absorbing everything, while in the soft night light it was almost glimmering, so luscious and silky.

"I don't feel like drinking tea tonight." His voice filled the room, soft and vulnerable, and it almost made you think he was hurt. So you put down the tray on the floor, your eyes still unable to spot the table exactly, and hurried to his side, to the light coming in through the window.

"Are you alright, Geto-sama?" You asked, voice full of worry, as you placed a hand flat on his forehead. His hair was beautifully unkempt and you pushed some strands away to see his face better. But as soon as he raised his eyes to look at you a shiver ran down your spine and you took your hand away swiftly.

He successfully tricked you. Contrary to his frail voice and his lethargic posture on the bed, his eyes were sharp, full of energy and piercing right through you. You felt threatened, although it was the same Geto you admired and served, the same Geto who taught you how to fight curses, how to defend yourself. But how could you defend yourself from him?

"I'm sorry if my presence is not as neat as you're used to." He said. He was still wearing the usual kesa and you wondered how much of his identity really resided in the religious facade. You wanted to see past that.

"Are you in pain?" You asked. He looked like a wounded animal, one that could still do you harm even in this state.

"Yes." He said, but nothing about the way he looked at you seemed to signal that he was in need of help. Instead, he was luring you in.

"How does it feel?" You slowly approached him again and sat down by his side. His back was resting against the wall and he watched you with a certain amused look. How foolish could you be?

"Like you felt when you first came to me." Geto answered, his eyes glued to yours. "Only that all those curses are inside me."

"Is this why you helped me?"

It was painfully ironic how, despite of how smart he thought he was, you delivered the answer so effortlessly.

"For the most part, yeah." He admitted. The rest of the reason was blatantly reflected in his eyes that were eating you alive as he spoke.

"Let me help you." You breathed out, without thinking. There was no logical reasoning in your brain. You natutally felt it in your body that you had what he wanted and you wanted to give it to him. "If I could take only a fraction of your torment away it would be worth it."

"How would you do that?" He asked, noticing how you leaned in and your hand touched his in a seemingly platonic attempt to comfort. But there was nothing platonic about the way you looked at him.

"Show me how curses taste." You breathed out.

For a moment, Geto was taken by surprise by your bluntness. What if you really could feel the sickening taste of curses on his lips? Would it make you turn back in disgust? Would it shatter the perfect image he built for himself inside your mind?

You didn't give him any more time to think. You simply stood up in front of him and pulled at the hems of your shirt, taking it off. Geto's eyes followed your every move in the dark, noticing the round contour of your breasts and the white lace of your bra. All his focus, his control, was gone. He was looking at you wide eyed, his pupils devouring every inch of your body as your fingers unclasped the bra in the front. He felt his mouth water, a primal hunger sparking alive inside his soul when your tits bounced free as you discarded the bra on the floor. You were offering yourself to him like a tribute, like a sacrifice to the gods. His train of thought was broken off, all the confusion and tumult in his mind completely turned off by the feeling of your lips on top of his. For a moment he remained frozen, the shadow of doubt still lingering, waiting for you to break away in repulsion. But you didn't. Instead, you placed your hand on his cheek, pressing your body closer to his. It was the last hint he needed.

Geto's hungry lips moved along with yours, easily taking control. You moaned in discomfort when his body shifted, pressing you down on the bed in an uncomfortable position, his lips never breaking off from yours. The feeling of his weight on top of you, his hair falling over his shoulders, brushing against your skin felt oddly familiar and, while you struggled to find a more comfortable position under him, you realized it felt just like the times you would fight. It was the same tension, the same blood rushing in your veins in excitement, the same anticipation for what would come next. Except that now you were taking it one step further.

To Geto, right now, you had only one purpose. His pleasure. Altough his hands touched you greedily, your flesh kneaded under his palms so roughly yet so satisfying, and his mouth moved to your neck to suck and bite every spot he found, earning soft moans of pleasure from you, it was all for himself. He was drunk on the taste of you. So desperate to forget everything else, eager to taste only you on his lips, forever. Your flesh was so soft, so sweet, so addicting. You were soaking wet already by the time his tongue ran circles around your sensitive nipple, rubbing your thighs together under your skirt. Both your hands were buried in his hair, pushing it away from his face while he couldn't be bothered with anything else but your flesh. You could also feel it, how selfish, how insatiable he was. Your pleasure was only a fortunate side effect, a convenient occurance. Between soft whimpers and muffled sounds of sucking and licking on your skin, you realized that he didn't care. His chaotic movements, his bites that were getting deeper and deeper everytime he sank his teeth into the soft tissue of your breast, his uncontrollable groans as he devoured you, it was all for himself. You were no different than the curses he was swallowing for later use. He would eat you alive if he could.

By the time he had your skirt pulled up, your panties discarded somewhere in the dark, his teeth grazing against the sensitive skin of your thigh, it was too late. If there was a chance you could stop him before, check on him, try to get him to slow down a little, when his tongue first touched your wet and sensitive core it was already too late.

You gasped for air, your grip on his hair tightening as his tongue ran between your folds, running circles over your throbbing clit. He was eating you out with an aching thirst, sloppy and loudly, the only thing covering the dirty wet sounds of his tongue drenched in your juices being your own moans, significantly louder than before. He had your legs over his shoulders, his arms keeping your legs spread apart while his face was burried between them. He had you arching your back, dark strands of his hair falling from between your trembling fingers as his tongue dived inside you, his nose nuzzling up against your clit.

Your taste, your smell, your everything was numbing all his other senses, his mind blank, asleep, thoughtless. The only thing driving him, dictating every turn of his tongue, every press of his lips was the unquenchable thirst to eat you, consume you. Something inside his blood, his bones, his soul dictated that the pitch black abyss where he kept all the curses he ever swallowed could be obliterated by you.

"So sweet for me."

It didn't take much before his tongue got you close to the edge, your orgasm only a few touches away as your toes curled and your muscles tightened, although his arms kept your legs pushed apart. He didn't care at all if anyone heard your filthy moans or the sound of his name echoing from inside his room. You were loud enough, even louder than ever as you came, the peak of pleasure washing over you.

But soon, pleasure turned to pain as Geto kept the same hungry rhythm, continuing to eat you out with the same determination like he didn't even notice your orgasm.

"So fucking sweet."

He couldn't have missed it, his name reverberating in the silent room like a fervent prayer, your thighs tightening under his touch, your hands pulling at his hair. He didn't care. He was doing it for himself, eating you out for his own pleasure. Moreover, his effort only intesified as you fought to push him away. The more you struggled to get his face away from your overstimulated pussy, the faster his tongue moved. You cried out his name again, this time in pain, begging him to stop. You tried pushing your legs together, fighting to break free. Your hands tried pushing his head away. The back of your heels hit his back, your legs trying to force him away. You begged, implored him to stop as tears rolled down your face. But he had your hips tightly pressed on the mattress, arms forcing your thighs apart. Once again, you felt exactly like the the times he would train you. So easily defeated. So helpless.

"Ge-geto... sa-ah-ma." You begged between cries, your salty tears falling uncontrollably like the first day when you came to him. "No more... ple-please." He pushed one of your legs with his elbows, his palm pressing firmly on your lower belly, forcing your convulsions to stop.

"Shut up or I'll have you chained up." He found the time to growl, even the feeling of his breath against your painfully overstimulated clit making you cry out.

His warning meant nothing compared to your discomfort, but your second orgasm started building up shortly. Your struggle died down and your hands were pulling him closer again, nails digging into his shoulders. A wet pool of your fluids and his saliva mixed together was dripping off your skin on the sheets as your body shook again, more violently than the previous time. He seemed to have had enough, at least for the moment, because he let you go, your legs desperately pressed together as you rolled on your side, whole body trembling, heavy breathing, every cell of your body exploding with raw pleasure.

You didn't know for how much time you simply laid there, your mind hazy from the overstimulation, your body exhausted from both pleasure and pain. It could have been five minutes or as much as the whole night that had passed when you finally became aware of Geto's eyes fixed on your body.

But the thing that really made you snap out of your lifelessness was his voice calling out your name. Your own name, for the first time. Almost as if he learned it only after having your taste left on his lips.

"You're a blessing." Geto breathed out as the strain in his jaw was slowly creeping in. You didn't say anything in return. There was nothing to say to those intoxicated eyes. Those swollen lips still covered in your juices. His tongue ran over them, collecting the last remains of your juices. But the pain in his voice was gone. Although bewildered and curious, he seemed to have regained his energy, rediscovered a reason to live.

Your breath hitched when he leaned over you again, his lips offering soft kisses along your leg, upwards to your hips. He seemed more collected, more in control of his instincts as he put the minimal pressure on your skin with every kiss until he reached your lips again. Your hands pulled at his clothes, the desire to see him naked like he saw you taking over. He chuckled, giving in to your petty efforts.

"Please, Geto-sama." You said. "Let me satisfy your needs."

He smiled, that patronizing smile of satisfaction.

"You can try."

《previous Ascension | next》 The Hunt |True Form!Sukuna x Reader Sukuna x Reader

[screaminglygay]

KINKTOBER day 1

pairing: siren! natasha x reader

summary: working on a boat sounds like a fun, but what if there is a cold weather?

word count: 3.6k

warnings: heavy manipulation!!!, mind control, toxic dynamic, humping a tail, dirty talk, just smut!, badly written description of what sailors do

an: so the time is here!!!! I’m exited and also anxious, aghh. I’d appreciate any of your feedback and don’t be scared to send me some thoughts! If there are any typos, i sincerely apologize, just let me know and I’ll fix it!

an2: there is a part that was inspired by hp and goblet of fire, i’ve changed most of it, but left some parts, since natasha is siren. felt like it was fitting. and it’s exactly how I imagine natasha’s style of singing.

(italics = your thoughts)

!MDNI!

Enjoy this spooky time and be safe!

Working on a coast was an incredible experience and for such a long time you were happy to have the oppurtunity to see new things, but most imporantily feel new things.

This spontanious work trip helped you with your mental health more than your therapist in years. You didn´t even mind working alone somedays, since your coworkers had some days shift off. You enjoyed those quiet days, where you didn´t even overthink, you just let your thoughts peacefully be and surprisingly they did the same thing to you.

Seeing things, the old things but with a different font was something you never get tired of. Everything was bigger and prettier. Colorfull sunrises and sunsets, bigger and shiny stars. But when the warm and fuzzy wind was changed by heavy rains and scary thunderstorms, you were really changing your opinion and wishing you were back in your comfy king sized bed, watching another stupid show on Netflix. Not everything was so colorful all the time.

Especially when the weather got cold and nothing was so warm and fuzzy as in the summer. When the first storm came you thought that you can hadle it, alone. You did, but barerly.

But from todays morning, you knew something big is coming and nothing could prepare you for that. You woke up and checked your phone, like you did every signle day and noticed you have one unread message, saying that your coworker, Tobias, can´t make it, because he got sea sick, from all the sailing he did this week. Which is little weird since you´re positive he´s been sailing the day he was born. But even the best of us can get sick sometimes. So youre all alone. You let out a big sigh. You werent mad, no. You were just little scared of the storm that might and most probably will come today.

When you finally got up and looked from the window you could feel that the wind was freezingly cold. Goosebumps begin to form on your arms and neck. The cold feeling seeps through your skin deeper, like a stealthy intruder, sending shivers down your spine. It's an icy touch that grips your body, making your muscles tense.

It´s gonna be a long day.

As always you packed your stuff, fuzzy socks, warm coat, another shirt just in case youll get wet. Lastly you took some snacks and a big amout of soup, hoping your heater wont let you down. And last but not least a lots of tea. As your boss always says "Tea and rum is better than a warm coat." Well you dont have the rum, but the tea will do, at least that´s what youre saying to yourself.

When you got to work, you checked all the papers from yesterday, made sure to know what your tasks will be today. And of course you had to check if the boat is in a good shape to sail the next day. It´s a lot of work, but at least you have a job to do. Not like a week ago, where you just sat and watch as the waves hit the rocks for 12 hours. You noticed that even waves have a simple patterns, its was so hypnotic to watch it hit the big rocks again and again and again.

You slowly checked all the papers to not miss anything important and undeerscore everything that you need to do today. You checked your watch and made a mental note to put the kettle on soon.

Youre working here for about a 5 months now and you still havent figured out your routine. Even though most of the times youre still doing the same job all over again, checking something, writing what needs to be fixed, checking the load, or just watching over the boat, you still do everything at the same time. So sometimes (read it as most of the times) you just forget to do the simple things as taking care of your basic needs. When you and Tobias have shift together, you two kinda take care of eachtoher, but when he´s not there it´s just so easy to forget about it.

But today you did quite good job, after checking the lower deck you came back up to unlock the kitchen and put the kettle on. When youre water was getting ready for your favorite and only tea you had here, you wrote some documentary about the first ship load you had to check. Everything was correct and you were happy that you didn´t have to unpack it and count it manually. Your first break of the day fly past very quickly as you finished your tea, that didnt make you feel warm at all. You put the cup in the sink and went on another round of checking the boat lower deck.

As you stood up something red caught your eye in the distance, you took a few steps closer to the window, hoping you would see better at what it is. It was weird seeing something so bright in the distance, where only the gray waves were moving. But to your disappointment, you didnt got the answer, it was probably some coral from the shore. You shake your head slightly and moved to another task.

When you came up you noticed that it was already dark outside, shockingly it was the same tempetrure as throghtout the day. Which was a positive thing.

How long have I been downstairs? What time is it? I didn´t have lunch... again.

As many thoughts at the same time speed through your mind, you heard something under the boat. You just closed your eyes, taking few deep breaths to calm your nerves. You put down the paperwork and the pen you were holding. Making your way to the kitchen, youve notice that you didn´t even drank much water. Cursing yourself, you drink a half of the bottle right away. The fresh water finally hitting your needs. Refreshing shockwave going through your body. Every cell awaken and all of your sences light up. Already feeling better, taking a moment to make soup and overall just refresh yourself. As you´re finishing your food, you hear it again.

Bang.

This time is was way louder, so you took all of your courage to go out and look what it was. Sometimes you were tought, or maybe you just act before you think things through. You were terrified of the dark and most importantly what´s in it, but this time something made you go out. You were surprised by yourself, but you didnt question it, much.

When you got out you checked the boat, slowly analyzing if something is wrong.

Was it an animal? A fallen brench into the water?

"Hello?" You immidietly cursed yourself. "Im an idiot." You mumble as you walk around. "There is no more pathetic and stupid way to die then just say hello to the dark." You mumble under your breath.

After a while walking around the boat a big strike apeared on the sky. And after few second of a complete silence there was a big thunder coming, that made you run back inside. There it was the big storm you were so terrified of. It was way worse than the last time and you were hoping to survive it.

That´s a little bit dramatic, but your heart was pounding fast, your hands started to shake and even in this cold you very still incredibly sweaty, like if you just ran a marathon in the desert. After few hours of tinkinkng you´ll die, the storm suddently stopped, leaving you all tired and scared at the same time. Until youve heard another sound, it wasnt another bang, it was more like a humming.

Maybe someone from the sailors is here? But they are all men. Maybe someones wife? Again, your thoughts are running milions miles per hour.

The humming sounds so warm, like the old days, back in summer, where everything was colorfull, fuzzy and it felt generally so good in your ears. You stood up and without second guessing you step outside. There was complete silence, not a single person outside, The sun slowly coming out, trying to fight those stromy clouds that were showing the only evidence of heavy storm.

As soon as your hand laid back on the door handle a beautfiul voice start to sing a melodic song. You didnt understand it, it was some language you never heard, but you liked it, your brain might not understand the words, but your body understood the melody. And suddenly you didn´t felt cold, it was the other way around actually. Your cheeks were on fire, like you were running a fever, but you didn´t feel bad, no, you actually felt the best you ever did.

When you turn around you saw her. Unbeiebly beaitiful, goddess looking woman. Her hair was red, not like an apple red, more like a bright fire that is keeping you warm at the coldest nights. Each strand seemed to catch the sunlight that was finally going up, setting her aglow with a vibrant, fiery aura. Her green eyes were pierced at you, she was looking at you, waiting for your move. But you just stood there and watched her, your breathing started to speed up. You tried to remeber evertything about her, but as soon as your eyes fell lower, you noticed how light her skin looked. It reminded you of a fresh marble that was just ready to be cast in. But what caught your off guard the most, was her tail. You´ve never seen aynthing like that and it was very obvious, because youre face made it very well known. It was mixed feeling between shocked and amazed. The siren's tail was a fluid masterpiece, a shimmering blend of oceanic blues and greens. With each sinuous movement, it created a mesmerizing scene.

"Hey sailor." she smirked, her voice sound way raspier than it did when she sang.

"I- I- I´m not a sailor. This is uh not my uh- boat... I just work here." You stutter out, cursing yourself for seeing the prettiest woman your eyes have ever laid on and you ramble out this sentence.

"You just work here? Oh what a pity, I wanted to ask for some help." The red haired frown, which made you feel sad right away.

"I can help! I just... not my boat." You awkwardly chuckled out.

Her eyes immidietly fell back on you. "Oh really? I don´t want to bother since you´re not the sailor of this boat." Her voice sounded so soft, yet harsh at the same time. It was luring you, by every word she said, you felt different emotion each time. A good emotions.

"I mean I´m on a shift now, so teoretically I am sailor of this boat." You smiled, youre pupils were so big and you felt like you were in euhporia.

She smiled softly. Her smile could make a whole army fall to their knees. You knew it, but most imporatnly she did too. But there was only one person she want to fall on their knees. And that person was you.

"Okay then, sailor..." her raspy voice now coming lower to your body, slowly eletrucing you. "I just need a little favor, my tail..." She let out a little whine, completly changing her body language. She didn´t seem so confident, she looked so fragile and sad. And you have to help her.

"Are you hurt?!" You imidditetly walk closer to her. Crouching so youre on the same eye level. She place her hand on yours, looking at you and finally, she bonded. Her touch made you feel cold and warm at the same time. Butterflies flying everywhere not just in your stomach and her eyes. Her captivating eyes has already read you like a whole book. Her eyes were an entrancing shade of emerald, deep and captivating like the hidden depths of the sea. They held an enigmatic allure, with a hint of mischief and ancient wisdom that drew you in, ensnaring your heart and mind.

"A little-" she sigh and looks away. "-maybe you can help me get back, to safety, where no one can find us." The soft spoken woman look at you, making eye contact again, while her hand is still on yours.

"Us?" Your words caught her off guard.

"Yes, us, darling. You know, not all people are kind as you are. Youre the only one who ever made me feel safe. Youre the only one i can trust now. Youre-" she blinks a few times, leaning closer to you. "-youre my saviour. Will you help me, darling? Help us to get to safety? The world is too cruel and we need to decide right now."

This was the task you were waiting your whole life on here. Make sure she is safe, there is nothing else that is more important than this. You nod, still making eye contact.

"I will. Of course!" You nod again, taking this job very seriously, as you felt like you were born for this.

"Say it. Say what you were made to do, darling." Raspiness was now the only thing that you´ve heard. You were less and less interested in your work and your tasks before her.

Before her there was... was there anything before her?

"I will help you. I will help us get to safety." Your eyes scanned her face, hoping these words will help her.

"Thank you my darling, will you follow me? Please?" her eyes were watery, she´s holing back tears and that tears your heart.

"Yes." You say without hasitation.

"Yes, what, darling?" She asks.

"Yes, uh-" suddnely you feel this sensation, your head feels fuzzy and your view is more and more bright. Your words are caugh up in your throat, when you looked at her lips you can see them moving, but your ears cant catch the word she´s saying. But your mind does.

"Yes, mistress." you whisper back as it´s the only thing you can say.

As you closed your eyes for a second, the world around you seemed to blur and fade. The warm feeling never leaving your side.

Time itself shifted, as if you were wrapped in a comforting cocoon. The soft, rhythmic sound of waves crashing against the shore became a lullaby and there is it was again. Her singing. Her soft and heart warming singing.

When you finally stirred, it was as if you had awakened in a dream. The dimly lit cave, adorned with iridescent seashells and many other decorations, that suited the cave. And there, before you, was a siren of unparalleled beauty, her emerald eyes reflecting the cave's soft luminescence.

"Hello, darling..." she slowly moved towards you "...slept well?" her smirk grew wider as she saw your hand immidietly going between your legs as there was some unbeliveble aching you were feeling.

"I- uh huh" You only nod, not realizing that your hand is going lower on your body.

The siren´s hand falls on your cheeks as she tuck some of your falen hair behind your ear. Not even for a second breaking eye contact. Without second thinking you grab her hands and put them on your body, that was covered in your wet clothes.

"P-please!" Was all you could have said. She just chuckled and squeezed your breasts.

"You don´t even know my name and you want me to fuck you? Aww darling, youre way easier than I thought you would be. So so so easy" She tsked and suddenly, you didn´t felt her hands on you anymore.

"I don´t care!" You yelp as the aching was even worse now. Is this what drugs do to you? You just want more and more and still it isn´t enough.

The siren looked at you shocked, her hand was placed on her chest as a sign of being offended. "Darling, you don´t care what my name is? That´s rude." She pout. Tears immidietly filling her eyes. "And I thought you don´t want to hurt me, yet you´re just like the others." She looked away.

"Wait- No, no, no! Im not like the others, Im sorry! Im so sorry! I want to know your name. Oh gosh I didn´t want to be so selfish!" You grabbed her arm. "Please, tell me your name, I bet it´s beautiful just like you!"

"You think Im beautiful?" Her green eyes falling back on you.

"Very." You nod.

"It´s Natasha." She wiped her tears.

"Okay, Natasha. Im sorry for being selfish, It was really mean, let me make it up to you, please." You felt so sad, like every joy just left your body forever. Like you didn´t even experience a single happy thing in your life. Like everything was just dark.

"You´re right, you did act very selfish and mean. And you should definetly make it up to me, (Y/N)." Natasha seems so small right now, like a small fish in a big dark ocean.

"Anything you want, just please- forgive me." You basically whined at this point.

"(Y/N), you truly hurted my feelings, I don´t know. How can i trust you not hurting me again?" The horrible feeling of guilt is forming not just in your stomach, but also in your head now.

Natasha looked really hurt by your words. And you felt like if you´ll lose her, you´ll lose yourself, forever.

You squeezed her hand. "I will never. How can i prove it to you? Please..." You knew this will work. "... mistress, let me prove to you, I won´t ever hurt you and Im truly so sorry!"

Her eyes shifted, her pretty green color in her eyes just dissapeared and turned into black.

"Take of your clothes. They´re wet, you will get sick. Aren´t you cold, darling?" At her words you did feel the cold breeze. Actually you were freezing.

"Y-y-yeah, Im freezing." You said while your teeth chattered.

"Oh, darling! Clothes off, righ now!" She ordered and you did as she told. "I don´t want you catch a cold!" Her voice was caring, so caring you didn´t think you deserve it, after how mean you´ve been acting towards her.

As you stand there, completly naked the shivering didn´t end, it got even worse and your nipples could cut dimonds now.

"You´re still cold? Oh, darling, come here." She pointed at her tail. "My tail is warm, it´s gonna keep you from freezing to death." Her smile could cure everything negative thing in this world.

Without second guessing you almost jumped at her, your hand wanting to touch her tail, but you stopped yourself. "May I? Mistress?" Natasha just nodded. You hand immidietly touching her tail.

It´s so soft, oh my god and warm! So so warm.

"Sit on it, darling." She take your hands and guided you on her tail. "It will make you warm, so warm, it will end the shivers, I promise."

So you did. You sat on her tail and if you felt tingles everywhere before, then now there are tignles even in places you don´t have. Running your fingers along its sleek, supple surface was like caressing a piece of heaven. Its velvety texture and gentle, soothing warmth enveloped you in a sense of euphoria, as if you were touching a living embodiment of comfort and enchantment, a sensation that melted away all of your less important other thoughts.

Natasha noticed you´re still shivering and put her hand on your hips. "Darling, if you start to move you will stop shivering. Fast friction makes heat and you really need to be in heat now, darling." Natasha was right, her words were exactly what you needed, but you just didn´t know how.

How can I do this? I don´t want to hurt her tail.

"You won´t hurt my tail, darling. I will guide you, okay?" Her strong hands squeezed your hips and slowly made you move back and forth. "Just like that, you´re doing so good."

After a little while you start to get the hang of it and you felt that amazing friction again. Everything started to feel so good, all the lost joy, all the good feeling are back. All the happy thoughts.

"Oh my god- it´s really working!" You screamed.

"I know, darling. I can feel you on my tail. Keep going." She wispered in your ear.

You did. Oh boy, you did. You moved your hips back and forth faster and faster. And at the same time it got easier, maybe it´s the tail, or maybe it´s the fact that your juices were all over Natasha.

You definetly felt the heat.

Few moments before you came and let all of your juices on the siren´s tail, she started to sing again. In the same language you couldn´t understand before, but you can now. It´s like you know the song all your life.

"Come seek us where our voices sound,

We cannot sing alone in the dark,

And while you're searching, ponder this:

We're gonna take what you'll sorely miss,

But not for long you gonna think,

Let us help, and you won´t sink.

Your life might have been so perfect,

Too late, it's gone, it won't come back."

After the red head stopped singing, she looked at you and finally closed the gap between you two. Your first kiss was a moment of exquisite tenderness, a meeting of souls that overlap the boundaries of land and sea. As their lips brushed together, it was a gentle, captivating exchange of warmth and desire. In that soft, lingering kiss, they found a connection that was as deep and boundless as the ocean itself, a love that defied all expectations and left you utterly in her arms.

"I forgive you, darling." Natasha said and you knew, you found your life task. As she holds you close on her tail your eyes fell back into the warm fuzzy feeling, you didn´t mind be in forever.

Hope you enjoyed first day of KINKTOBER!

Thank you for reading!!!

[shantechni]

No one asked, but my favorite part of the scene where Mikey comforts Leatherhead in front of his brothers isn't just that they're witnessing it.

It's the varying reactions we get.

It's a literal "blink and you'll miss it" moment, but Raph hardly reacts to Mikey's display; he's the first to turn to Donnie and signal him to inquire about the power cell.

We've seen how he looks when Mikey genuinely catches him off guard, and this isn't one of those moments.

It's fitting that Raph would be the least surprised by the spectacle because he's often portrayed to be the one who best understands Mikey, even in the 2012 comics when Leo and Donnie scold Mikey for his lack of focus in one issue (there are other examples). While they argue with Mikey, Raph is seen chilling in the background because he doesn't have that big of an issue with Mikey's attention span, and he even calls Mikey out when he claims he's not bothered by their comments as he walks out in irritation. He then goes on to scold Leo and Donnie later for running Mikey off as they look for him. He may be the biggest culprit when it comes to calling Mikey out once his attention starts to stray, but contrary to what he said in New Friend, Old Enemy, he understands Mikey quite well, sometimes better than anyone else.

So seeing Mikey pull the therapist card on someone isn't out of the ordinary for him. He knows Mikey well enough to anticipate something like this.

Leo's next in line for actually reacting very subtly to Mikey pulling Leatherhead out of his headspace.

His eyes are already widened by the time the camera pans back to him, but they widen an extra notch before he too turns back to Donnie.

Leo has borne witness to Mikey's skills plenty of times prior to this episode, and we can take their decade-and-a-half spent underground into consideration, so seeing Mikey behave so compassionately doesn't strike him as anything supremely noteworthy. But he's clearly impressed that Mikey managed to befriend the hostile mutant in such a short amount of time; he recognizes that his youngest brother is mentally intelligent and strong enough to calm down the easily angered Leatherhead while no one else thought it to be feasible.

It surprises him, but Leo understands that Mikey is the most sympathetic out of all of them, and he doesn't take long to get over his surprise.

Donnie, on the other hand, takes the longest amount of time to move on from what transpired.

Unlike Raph's lack of feedback and Leo's mental approbation, Donnie is awestruck.

As I said before, I highly doubt this is anyone's first time seeing the level of maturity Mikey has, but (and it's a very close race) Donnie's the main one out of the brothers who both accidentally and purposefully sees Mikey as the tactless, accident prone little brother everyone makes him out to be most of the time. Though he knows Mikey is proficient at critical thinking when he's needed to be, bringing in a mutant with violent tendencies and perceptible trauma that gets triggered by the mention of a name isn't a territory they've frequented.

And yet, much like Leo, he sees for himself that Mikey was clearly capable of mellowing Leatherhead out and knew how to steer him away from his horrendous memories with the Kraang.

[prettypei]

plot: satosugu bf headcanons (seperately); fluff!

reader: gn! Reader

parings: highschool! geto, gojo

warnings:none?? I don’t think so

(a/n): SUGURU ON THE MIND!!!! esp after that new ep gawd damn

✰GOJO

HES SUCH A LOSER BF

like you knew it from the way he asked you out

he planned to ask you out by making a cake that said "date me?" on it

he thought it was romantic

but gojo srsly cant cook

he even though he really likes sweets he cant even fry an egg so the cake turned out something like... imagine the worst cake possible with frosting everywhere and the message on top of the cake is unreadable and the cake is a weird brown color? yeah its like that

you agreed to go out with him anws

if you ever get in a fight hes definitely pullin up to fight with you, no matter how wrong you are

"cats are dogs" "yea they're basically animals so they're the same!"

will ask to copy homework EVERY. SINGLE TIME.

he claims that he trusts you like you grades vould be going downhill and he would still borrow urs

is the type of person to accidentally copy the name too

such a virgin everyone says he's a major f-boy but in reality he has never felt another person touch him romantically

he gives you goofy grins whenever he does sth stupid (and when he does it's mostly bc he wants to see you laugh)

calls you the most ridiculous pet names "sugar bby pookie bear"

also likes referring to you as candies like he called you liquorice one time???

has a habit of applying lip gloss... like A LOT.

"can I kiss u babe" "yeah lemme put on lip gloss rq" *proceedes to spend 10 whole minutes smacking his lips and applying lip gloss*

really big on pda hes suuupperrrr into it, but he'll tone it down if you're uncomfortable

if ur into it tho? he kisses you every two secs

TAKES THE WORST DATING ADVICE EVER FROM THE TRIO

"guys where shld I bring (name) on a date?" "Bring her to a sewer, that way they'll be scared and hug you."-geto "idk a therapist?"-shoko (in the end you were just grossed out, but he somehow makes it sweet and wholesome at the same time?)

✰GETO

he texts you a lot of memes (I'm sure this is widely agreed throughout the fandom lol)

doesn't hug you a lot in public but he does wrap his arm around your shoulder

he wouldn't be reallyyyy affectionate but if you are he'll accept your hugs with a little smile

he likes my melody more than kuromi

his love language is quality time, sometimes you'll spend dates just lounging out on the couch and doing nothing. However, he thinks it's much nicer than just being by himself

really great memory, he notices those small details about you that no one else does, or even the ones you're unaware of like when you always fold a napkin when you're at a restaurant yk hes cute like that

asks the weirdest questions ever: "do you think I'm a squirrel or a chipmunk?" respond with "I think you're an idiot" QUICK!!!

he gets super moody when his hair ties are missing, he has a whole bag of them at his dorm

allows you to give him silly hairstyles when he's sleepin <3

loves truth or dare and 20 questions

has a weird obsession with puzzles and he likes it if he’s piecing one together with you

he also gets competitive without knowing. Like even with you if you guys are at an arcade and you win him at basketball hoops he’s bitter

”let’s do it again I was not ready” “you said that 5 times and I still won” “NO”

he believes in astrology stuff

is more emotionally attracted to people than physically

he may come off as cold but he just doesn’t express as much as gojo

he sometimes paints (mostly watercolor) and a lot of them are of you or are inspired by you <333

MY POOKIE!!! Free my man he did nothing wrong!!!!

[capr1pengu1n]

Hi! Hihihi! big fan here!

I am fiending for something mouth watering, torturing, jaw dropping smutty fun with our boy from Assault on Arkham. Female reader please. Maybe she's a nurse working a shift at Arkham or a therapist or care tech? I'm just seeing total domination, daddydom/zaddy type vibes. But feel free to do whatever you feel.

Thank you for your time and consideration!!

Tata~!

Corrupting the young with your uncivil tongue

Summary: While on shift at Arkham Asylum, what should be a routine check on an injured inmate turns into something a whole lot more.

Warnings: 18+ smut, fem reader (no use of y/n), Assault on Arkham!Eddie, dom/sub dynamics, praise and degradation, choking, rough sex, fingering, face fucking

Words: 4.4k

Notes: Thank you so much sweetheart, you're too kind! This gave me an excuse to rewatch his scenes on yt (mgg really is one of the perfect voice actors for him, even with his sometimes dodgy vocal deliveries)

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Being a nurse meant seeing the truly ugly side of Arkham Asylum; the dangerous patients always being one movement away from lashing out at times. You didn't mind your job, in fact it was rather rewarding at times to help those you could, being able to feel as if you were making a difference in this cesspool of a city.

But many of the inmates you knew you couldn't trust, dangerous criminal masterminds who were constantly using Gotham City as a battleground for their many wars with the batman. And you knew deep down that The Riddler was one of those men. But still, he'd been nothing but...kind.

Well, maybe kind is a little bit too strong of a word. But he'd always been one of your better patients, never giving you too much trouble. And you couldn't deny the tiny part of you that lit up when you saw his name on your rota, no matter how much you pushed the feeling down in the crevices of your mind. His snarky smile would always be waiting for you when you administered the pills that he most likely just hid under his tongue, or to patch him up whenever his big mouth got him into trouble.

It seems today was one of those days, as you made your way to the rather empty infirmary and saw Edward laying in bed, flicking through a book without a care with one hand, the other handcuffed to the side. The doctor that saw to him had been rushed off his feet, rumblings of a mass riot causing all of the staff to be more overworked that usual, if that was even possible for a place like this. Still, you stood by his bed and closed the privacy curtain.

"There you are sweetheart, I was beginning to believe i'd been forgotten about. A distressing thought, i'll have you know."

You can't help but laugh softly at his dramatics, as he lowers the book to his side to give you a look at his face. A cut was across his cheek, not overly deep.

"Ah yes, this. Well that'll teach me not to display my mental superiority at dinner time, lest i'm slashed again. I really should have enacted some sort of revenge before one of the idiotic guards blundered in."

"Does it hurt?"

"Nothing more than a scratch, my dear."

There's that smile again, self-satisfied and smug, but with a hint of something else. He adjusts himself so he's sat more upright, watching with sharp eyes as you look through his medical chart, not missing the slight confusion on your features.

"Does anywhere else hurt?"

"If i say my chest, will I get to remove this horrid jumpsuit?"

You flush in spite of yourself, laughing softly at his insinuation which delights him greatly. Placing the chart down, you look back at him as he adjusts himself yet again.

"I see no reason why you'd need to stay, I can call for you to be escorted back to your cell now."

"Yes about that," he starts, looking around in a dramatic manner, "why is there no guard here anyway? Don't tell me they hardly see me as a threat? I'll have you know I-"

Shaking your head, you interrupt him. "No no, there's rumors of a riot starting. Everyone is on high alert. And it seems that there's a mistake on your chart...it says you have a broken leg. I doubt they thought you'd get very far."

The momentary annoyance of being interrupted dissipated when he heard your words, and he lets out a bark of a laugh.

"Oh the ineptitude of these fools truly never fails to amuse me." With a smirk, he tilts his head as he looks at you before continuing. "But i'm sure a girl like you wouldn't have made a mistake like that."

At his praise, you can't help the flush of pride that swirls in your chest despite who he is, as you smile softly. Pleased with the way you respond, he reaches up and gently tugs you closer to the bed by your arm.

"Does it take truly so little to flatter you?" he asks, causing you to look away for a moment before he squeezes your arm. "No. Look at me."

You do as he says, looking at his eyes through his glasses, before nodding a little. "I guess not..."

"Pity." he murmurs, looking at your chest unashamedly. "I'd have thought you'd be used to compliments, looking like that."

You feel the embarrassment and excitement bubble up in you at his words, despite your better judgement, despite the fact that a criminal mastermind is flirting with you and you like it. Forcing yourself to clear your head, you glance away yet again.

"Thank you."

"No problem darling."

Before turning to leave, he coughs slightly to get your attention.

"Hold on a moment. You really think it's a good idea to go out there? You said it yourself, a riot could break out at any moment." he declares, his eyes firmly fixed on yours.

"Well...yes. I could always go with the guards, they'd protect me."

"I could protect you." he says without missing a beat, without blinking. The look of shock must be evident on your face as you look at him.

"Why would you do that?"

"Why do I do anything?" he challenges, the rattle of the handcuff cutting through the room.

"...you do things when they benefit you." you say softly, trying to match his gaze.

"Exactly. Or maybe I want to protect the pretty nurse who always turns a blind eye when I don't swallow my pills."

"I-I don't-"

"Don't lie sweetheart, it doesn't suit you."

Hesitating, you glance down to where his hand is cuffed to the bed. This is a bad idea, an awful idea and you know it. But your apprehension is delicious to him, and he leans in as best he can.

"And you like the idea, don't you? Of The Riddler's protection?"

You swallow audibly, not denying his accusation. "I can't...i'm not Harley Quinn or anything, i'm not gonna go running off with a psycho-"

"Don't call me that." he snaps harshly, his tone serious and even making you flinch a little. Upon realising, he clears his throat a little in an attempt to calm down. "I'm not trying to dump you in a vat of acid to prove your devotion darling. I'm simply saying I could protect you."

Upon being under your gaze yet again, he puts on a smirk. "Besides, I'm not blind. The way you look at me is quite different than the way the other dimwitted orderlies do. It's...refreshing."

You release a breath, shaky and slow as you weigh up your options here. If a riot does break out...he probably could protect you. And it's not like he has any reason to harm you, right? Nodding slightly, you try and come up with some pathetic excuse before he interrupts you.

"What time is it?"

Slightly bewildered by the question, you glance at your small watch and reply, "About 7."

He hums, rolling his neck. "Might be a good idea to get me out of these handcuffs sweetheart."

Frowning, you go to ask him why before the power goes out. The room is plunged into darkness, causing you to jump at the sharp noise of the lights going. Frantically you stumble to try and head backwards before you feel a hand grasp at your waist, and suddenly you're pressed against a man's broad chest.

"Okay, I may have lied about needing your help to get out of the cuffs." Edward murmurs, before laughing smugly.

Panic sets in as you scramble to get away from him, but he only laughs harder and uses both hands to hold you still.

"Oh please stop struggling. You know I could overpower you. But I meant what I said darling, I'll protect you." he coos into your ear, and you can feel the satisfaction radiating from his smile in waves as he lets go of your arm.

"Now, be a good girl and barricade the door when the lights come back on."

"How do you know the light's will-"

With a bang, the lights come back on, and on instinct you follow his instructions. Regardless of the morally dubious actions of the serial killer you've found yourself with, you know how bloody Arkham riots can get, so self preservation wins out as you take a chair and push it against the door. Barricading yourself in with The Riddler.

He watches you carefully, half expecting you to make a run for it, but being slightly relieved when you trail back to him. "Good."

"How did you know when the lights would go off?"

"You're a smart girl darling, figure it out."

He must have known about the riot, hell he might have planned it. But what you couldn't understand was...

"You planned the riot, or at least knew. But why aren't..." you pause, as he steps closer, too close, "why aren't you trying to escape?"

He chuckles, lifting his hand to cup your chin. "Oh you naive girl. You think I orchestrated this just to escape? Perhaps I was wrong about you, or perhaps you're just too modest."

Observing the look of realisation on your face, he strokes his thumb along your cheekbone. "You can't taste it until you undress it, what am I?"

You can't deny the hitch in your breath at his, albeit cheesy riddle, which causes him to laugh more. "The answer isn't what you're probably thinking, but it's still an apt description of what I want to do to you."

What he wants to do to you. That's all you can hear rattling away in your brain as you let him stroke your cheek, down to the side of your neck.

"And trust me my dear, I want to do a lot of things to you."

"Like what?" you ask, the words spitting out without processing, but he smirks anyway.

"You want me to tell you? Tell you how much I want to dominate you completely? Have you completely at my mercy, as this whole asylum tears itself apart from the inside on my orders?"

You couldn't suppress the small whimper that escapes your lips even if you tried, as you nod your head. Instead, he moves his hand to wrap around your throat, slender fingers gently squeezing.

"How about I show you?" he rasps out, before slamming his lips against yours. It's all consuming, the way he keeps you still with his grip as his tongue forces it's way into your mouth. He explores every inch, reveling in the small moans he swallows as he uses his other hand to grab your hips, pulling you against him so you can feel the bulge straining against the garish orange jumpsuit.

"Get on your knees." he growls out against your lips, and you drop obediently. "Good girl, you're learning your place."

Not deterred by his condescending words, you gaze up at him as his fingers fiddle with the zipper of his jumpsuit, freeing himself after a moment. Your eyes immediately dart to his hard cock, watching as he pumps himself a few times and gently rests it on your cheek.

"A man can get certain...urges in a place like this. A lesser man would have probably resorted to his own hand to achieve momentary gratification, but I knew...I knew if I waited, victory would be all the more sweet."

He taps his cock on your lips, and you open and let your tongue gently run along the head. Gritting his teeth, he grabs a fistful of your hair and pulls, keeping you still and not allowing you the privilege of tasting him just yet.

"Ask me nicely. Tell me you've wanted me the same way." he demands.

"I've wanted you." you reply, staring up and giving him the most pleading expression you can muster. "I've always been attracted to you, I've always wanted you Edward."

He groans quietly, running his cock along your lips once again, humming appreciatively as you seem to have learnt your lesson in keeping your tongue to yourself.

"I do love you saying my name. But I think a different word is in order, after all, i'm here protecting you."

You know he's desperate for validation, desperate to feel superior and in control, but god you want to give it to him so badly.

"I've always wanted you sir." you ammend.

"That or 'master' will do." he smirks down at you, before tapping his dick against your lips deliberately. Getting the hint, you open up and let him push your head. Luckily he gives you the grace to not shove his whole length down your throat, pushing you halfway before letting you set the pace. You get to work immediately, bobbing your head as you suck, blinking up at him to observe his reactions.

You can't deny he looks stunning, his frown and brow lines relaxing as he lets you service him, his eyes fluttering closed for a moment to truly indulge in your wet mouth. He'd been in Arkham a few weeks now, and if what he said about relieving himself was true, it really had been a while since he felt such carnal pleasure.

As he opens his eyes again, he looks down at you once more, stroking your hair as you moan softly around his cock. While he certainly isn't going to admit it, he's relieved you were so eager to get on your knees for him, happy he got the signals right, happy he wouldn't have to admit that his lust was unrequited, what's he thinking, he's the riddler! Any woman would be lucky to have him, he's a specimen -

His thoughts are stopped when you push further, taking him deeper into your throat before pulling away for breath, taking him in your soft hand and jerking him. He let's out a slightly higher pitched noise, before growling and gripping your hair with both hands.

"Arms behind your back dear, let's see if I was right to choose you."

You do what he instructs, taking a deep breath before he pushes his cock into your willing mouth. This time he doesn't hold back, holding you in place as he thrusts shallowly into your mouth, before pushing deeper. Suppressing the urge to gag, you moan brokenly around him as your fingernails dig into your own arms, willing against your body's natural instinct to put your hands on his thighs and push against him. Instead you behave, letting him fuck your mouth and take his pleasure from you.

The look on your face has him getting close rather quick for his liking, but he's way too desperate to care. Glazed eyes, spit covered lips and chin from where his cock is pushing out your saliva, he thinks you look gorgeous. His one hand remains in your hair as his other grips your jaw.

"So good for me...fuck, almost makes me wish I hadn't had those idiots cut power to the cameras in here. Seeing my favourite nurse choking on my cock..."

He moans softly, cock pulsing as he gets nearer his climax. Rhythm faltering, he desperately ruts into your throat, wanting to cum so badly it almost hurts. All the while he's mumbling and muttering how slutty you are, how much this is usually beneath him, how good your mouth feels until-

"I'm gonna cum, you're gonna, shit, swallow it...swallow it all." he demands, before his hips still as he pumps his cum down your throat. Choking, you do your best to swallow all he gives you before he releases the death grip on your hair. You pull away and gasp shallowly for oxygen.

"What do you say?" he says condescendingly, although you don't miss the laboured breathing that betrays his excitement.

"Thank you." you start, but the firm tap on your cheek gives you the incentive to rephrase, "Thank you sir."

"Better. You know how few people can say they've had the privilege of The Riddler fucking their face?"

Despite how fucked up morally you know it is, you can't help but feel slight pride at his words, knowing that it's you who he chose to sleep with. He tugs you up by the arm, before humming and squishing your cheeks together, tilting your face from side to side as he appraises you.

"How about you lay on the bed." he says, and despite the phrasing, you can infer from his tone that he's not asking. So you do, hearing the cheap infirmary bed creak as you lay down. Outside you can vaguely hear noises, yells and chants mostly, but you try your best to tune it out as Edward makes quick work of ridding you of your nurse uniform. He gives a wolf whistle, smirking shamelessly.

"Not bad at all." he mumbles, which you assume is quite high praise for him, as he gropes your tits roughly. "I knew I wasn't wrong to have been taken by your looks. It's a bonus you have half a brain in there somewhere."

Feeling a little mean, he gives one of your breasts a sharp slap, grinning as you flinch and squirm. He repeats the motion, and again for a third time on the other one, before soothingly massaging the tender skin.

Before long, he can't resist parting your legs to get a good view of your dripping cunt, needy and pulsing after being treated so roughly by him.

"Oh poor thing." he coos, the falseness of his sympathy only adding to your arousal. "Do you need master's help?"

You can only nod pitifully, as he brings his fingers to your clit and circles slowly, as if observing the consequences of his actions. At your hips jerking, he uses his other hand to pin you firmly to the bed, the structure squeaking under the weight. He continues to play with your clit, alternating his pace and rhythm to keep you on edge, never quite allowing you to reach the peak of the satisfaction he could bestow upon you.

"Such a needy hole, look at it. It's just begging to be filled, isn't it?" he asks, to which you nod again. In response, he slaps your cunt harshly. "If i wanted to talk to myself, i'd have simply jerked off in the safety of my isolated cell. Speak."

"Yes, yes I want to be filled." You say quickly, embarrassment fading away to let the desperation uncurl its claws in your mind. Seemingly satisfied, he slowly pushes two fingers into your pussy, barely suppressing the groan at how wet and hot you feel.

Starting to pump his digits, he curls them to press into your g spot, watching as you tense and make soft moans at the sensation. His other hand wraps around your neck, smirking at your wanton desperation.

"So quick and eager to have a criminal's fingers inside of you. And a nurse at that, don't you have a duty of care?" he taunts sadistically, languishing in your shame and embarrassment as he keeps fucking you harshly with his fingers. You try and shake your head, but you can't with how he's choking you ever so slightly; a reminder that your life is in the hands of one of Gotham's most feared supervillians. And your cunt has never been wetter.

But you aren't the only one affected. Edward was never the type of man to be able to go multiple rounds, and age didn't exactly help that fact. But whether it was being in the Asylum, his abstaining from self pleasure, or just you, he was hard as a rock again and itching to know what your pussy might be like around him.

"Please..." you start to beg, slightly dazed from the onslaught of sensations.

"Please what, hm? Please stop? Please fuck me? Oh please I want to be fucked by the greatest intellectual this city has ever known?"

You can hardly digest the intense self importance he's displaying as you nod again as best you can. "Please fuck me sir."

"Getting better, but say it louder. More conviction. I'm not an easy man to please." he threatens, moving his fingers faster, practically bullying the inside of your pussy as he releases the grip on your neck, allowing merciful oxygen to grace your airways.

"Please sir, please fuck me. Please make me yours, your slut. Please." you beg between moans, body tensing.

"I will." he assures you, pulling his fingers out and bringing them to his face to observe your fluids, "but you should know, you became my slut when you so willingly got on your knees for me."

He grabs your hips and pulls you towards him as he kneels firmly on the bed, grabbing a pillow and stuffing it under you. You almost voiced your thanks at the action, before he rubs the head of his cock on your sensitive clit.

"Once more, for good luck."

What an asshole, he doesn't even believe in luck, you think to yourself, but the stimulation on your core was leaving your breathless and needy, so you indulge him.

"Please fuck me master, I need you. I need The Riddler."

Playing into his ego, his persona, almost always works (not that you know that, opting for an educated guess instead) and he rewards you by sinking into your pussy, moaning uncharacteristically higher pitched. Once he bottoms out inside of you, he takes a moment to really take in the scene in front of him, before grabbing hold of your hips and starting to move.

You moan, the fingering causing your cunt to already be sensitive and on fire with urgency as he starts to fuck you. He bends over you, taking his glasses off and placing them at your side before starting to move his hips faster, determined to rid you of any other thought but him.

"That's it, fuck, go dumb on my cock for me." he encourages, as your eyes glaze over. "My dumb little nurse, so willing to spread her legs."

Not being able to deny his accusation, you simply hold on to his arms for dear life as he picks up the pace even more, thrusting into you and watching your cunt soak his cock in your wetness.

"Making such a goddamn mess." he grunts, leaning down and slapping your clit for the sake of it.

You whine at that, body jerking in response as he chokes out a small chuckle. Soothing it, he rubs circles with his thumb in time with his thrusts, content with the noises of pleasure that fall from your lips. Outside, the noise of the riot were obvious now, and he uses it to his advantage.

"What if someone were to see? Would they think i forced myself on you? Or would they see you for what you truly are? A whore who wanted one of her patients to fuck her." he demeans you, and all you can do is attempt to shake your head.

He tuts, leaning so his breath tickles your lips. "I told you, lying doesn't suit you sweetheart."

Perhaps you were a whore, for wanting a man like Edward to make you feel something, but you can't hope to deny that what he's making you feel is good, so damn good.

"I'm a whore." you mumble quietly, before he groans. He feels your walls tightening around him, can feel the way your body is tensing as you near release.

"Say it properly, and i'll let you cum all over The Riddler's cock. How about that?" he says it like he's giving you a gift, something so unbelievable that you should be grateful he even considered it. But either way, you give in.

"I'm a whore, i'm your whore sir." you manage to get out between punishing thrusts, nails digging into the meat of his biceps. "I'm The Riddler's whore."

He moans, slamming into you with conviction. "You're damn right you are."

You're unsure if that meant you had permission to cum, but between his thrusts and his thumb playing with your clit, you knew you couldn't stop it as you cum hard around him. Your back arches, giving him a hell of a sight as he chases his own orgasm brutally.

"Yes that's it, take it. Take what i give you...take my cum, god you're so lucky. So privileged, so-"

He cuts himself off with a groan, mumbling your name as he buries himself completely inside of you as he finishes. You squirm softly at the warmth of the sensation, but not being able to go anywhere due to the death grip he has on your thighs; you're most certainly going to have bruises.

After a few blissful moments, he pulls out, admiring how your cunt flutters around nothing before his cum slowly leaks from your used hole. He gently reaches down and collects some on the tip of his finger, before pushing it back inside, laughing at your overstimulated gasp.

"There. Now wasn't that more enjoyable than running to the guards for help."

Giving him a sweaty nod, he climbs off of you and fixes him jumpsuit, before rolling his shoulders and standing up. You force yourself to sit up a little, watching as he smirks.

"I'm a little ahead of schedule, I confess I was foreseeing a little more convincing on my part for you to let me bed you." he says, uncharacteristically self deprecating, now matter how slight.

"Ahead of schedule for what?" you ask, before your answer is revealed when he picks up an empty chair and smashes the window.

"Oh sweetheart, while I did want to fuck you, did you really think i'd not pass up the opportunity for escape? I think my sabbatical has reached it's conclusion." he announces, walking over and grabbing your wrist to look at your watch. "The morons should have neutralised the guard post by now, if they actually listened to what I had to say."

At your hesitance, he smirks as he lets go of your wrist and leans down to give you a lingering kiss. "Perhaps i'll visit you again, you certainly made quite the impression on me."

At a loss for words, you stutter out a quick "okay" before he turns and begins to climb out the window. Not before turning for one last look at you.

"I really should have left a mark, people need to know you're mine now. Get changed sweetheart, in my estimations you have about ten minutes."

With that, he's gone, and you're left on the bed, cum dripping from your cunt and sweat slowly evaporating from your naked skin. Still, you suppose, he did protect you from the riot.

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

(perhaps one day I will include a daddy kink in my writing, but alas I fear today is not that day)

[fl3shm4id3n]

Cᵣᵤₑₗ Wₒᵣₗd

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐌𝐢𝐠𝐮𝐞𝐥 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐚𝐥𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐲 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐭. 𝐅𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐝𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐞𝐫, 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐤𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐡𝐢𝐦𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐮𝐩 𝐚𝐬 𝐒𝐩𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧, 𝐚𝐬 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐚𝐬 𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐮𝐥𝐤 𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐚𝐝𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐬, 𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐧'𝐭. 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭, 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐡𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐬, 𝐕𝐞𝐧𝐨𝐦. 𝐖𝐡𝐨 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐛𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐡𝐞 𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰.

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ᴍɪɢᴜᴇʟ ᴏ'ʜᴀʀᴀ x ᴡɪꜰᴇ! ᴠᴇɴᴏᴍ! ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

Tw: Death of a child, murder, gun/gunshot wounds, depression, emotional, mentions of gore? nudity.

A/N: I based this off the AU where Bruce's parents are Batman and The Joker.

Masterlist

The whole time you had been crying, begging that your baby was okay, you were still covered in her blood. You didn't bother to clean yourself, all you cared about was your daughter. When the doctors came to tell you both the news, you has absolutely lose it. You begged and screamed that they must be another thing that they could of done but no, Gabriella had died.

During the funeral, the whole time you had been hovering over the little casket, crying and begging that she'd come back. It hurt your husband seen you in this state, he hated seen you in such pain and distress. That night you didn't sleep in yours and Miguel's bedroom, you slept in your daughter's room, wishing and hoping that this was only a bad room and that your Gabriella would be in bed with you, but the next morning, she wasn't there, she was really gone.

For the last couple weeks not everything went back to normal, that night something had died inside of you, no longer did you smile or were happy ever. You were basically in your own world, forgetting that your husband was still in the picture, you loved him, you really did, but it was hard to look at him sometimes, every time you looked at your husband, you saw your little Gabriella, she looked a lot like her father. It hurt.

You went about your day, you woke up early or sometimes you didn't sleep at all. You did chores and everything that needed to get done in the house, then you'd do and hide in your daughter's room. You didn't do nothing in the room, but just lay in bed while hugging her soccer jersey, her scent was still on her clothes, it made you cry, you must have looked pathetic, but you didn't care.

This worried Miguel, you were getting worse instead of better, he knew that people mourned differently, but this was getting out of hand. He noticed a lot of unhealthy changes in you, he needed to help you. For a while he himself had also isolated himself, but now you needed him. That night he decided to talk to you, about taking you to go talk to a therapist, but you refused, you told him that you were fine and didn't need help, this lead to an argument. You both had began screaming at each other. Miguel had warned you that if you didn't go willing to the therapist, then he'll put you in a psych ward by force, when you heard those words, you got scared and basically ran out the door, scared that he might lock you up and claim you as crazy. He didn't mean for this to happen, he only wanted to help.

Miguel had thought you went for a walk for some fresh air, but those minutes became to hours, then those long hours turned into days. He had filed a missing person report to the police. While the police did their part, so did Miguel. He did everything in his power as Spider-Man to find you, but nothing, you had basically disappeared from thin air. He did not stop, no matter how long it would take, he was going to find you.

Years passed. Miguel has not found you yet, it killed him. He didn't know if you were alright, with good people, or if you were even alive. He remembers your screams, those same screamed haunted him at night. That night of the murder haunted him. Every time he closes his eyes, he sees you, holding the dying body of yours and his daughter, begging for her to keep her eye open. He remembers when you both rushed to the hospital screaming for help, when the doctors and nurses came to your help, you begged them to let go with them, in case your daughter needed her mama. he hopped that you were alive and well.

That wasn't the only thing he was worried about, some vigilante by the name of Venom had appeared. She was terrorizing the city and killing criminals from the streets, leaving some disturbing stuff that he felt disgusted to even mention behind to warn other criminals. He tried so hard to figure out who it was, but it was impossible, he had no clue on who could it possibly had been. Some people may find her acts heroic, but what she was doing was wrong, he was a vigilante himself, but he had limits. Someone needed to stop her before she does worse things.

Miguel was out on patrol, looking for any kind of danger or if anyone needed some help from Spider-Man, he was about to call it a night, but he hard screaming coming from an ally. So he decided to go check it out. The screaming got louder, he must have got closer, then he heard this kind of snarl and a demonic yet feminine voice. "Scums like you shouldn't be alive! You all should die!" she hiss at the man, who was pressed up against the wall, with her tight grip on his neck.

"Let him go Venom!" Miguel yelled towards the female, then the disguised woman looked at him, making her growl and gripping harder on the man's neck. "Why should you care to what happened to this low life! Him and every other criminal deserves to die!" she hissed towards the Spider-Man, she was about to snap the guy's neck. But Miguel had launched himself towards her, causing her to drop the guy, in which he ran away as fast as possible.

Then they both began to fight, they threw punches, kicks and threw each other around the ally. This went on for hours. "Just quit Venom!" Miguel yelled towards the woman, who was ready to throw another punch at him. "No! I will never stop! Until every criminal on the street is dead! They have to pay for what they had done!" she hissed, throwing herself back at Miguel, hitting him square n the jaw. Causing Miguel to hiss and get a hold of her wrist at in attempt to get her to stop.

"You think by killing them things will get better?!" he asked, while trying to restrain her but he couldn't, she manage to get away from him. "Yes, they took the most precious thing to me" she said, stopping her movements. "In this very ally, they killed my daughter!" she hissed, he could tell that she was in pain. He also couldn't help but notice the ally was the same exact ally where the murder of his daughter happened. But when the woman said the thing about her daughter, was what made Miguel freeze in his tracks.

"My daughter was shot here, and died in the hospital... they never found the guy that did it.." she said in tears. Miguel could see the tears streaming down her white wide eyes. "My daughter was my everything, she was the light of my life, but now she is gone.. and it's because of people like those scums that I do what I do.. so that no other mother had to go through what I did.." she admitted. No, it couldn't possibly be her. "I will do everything in my power to get every criminal off the street, even if that means killing them" she said.

The woman then brushed off her tears. "I'll have to kill you too, since you tend to get in my way!" she hissed as she lounged at him. This time Miguel had a trick up his sleeve. As soon as the woman got close to him, he manage to get a hold of her shoulder, then with his free hand, he got a needle shot which contained the venom from his fangs and injected the serum in her neck. Causing her to go weak. "What did you.." she wasn't able to finish her sentence. She then slumped forward towards him, losing conciseness.

Miguel then got a hold of the unconscious woman, he noticed how the black ink like skin of her began to disappear from her body. Revealing that she was naked underneath her 'suit'. Sadly he didn't have anything to cover her body, instead he used his big arms to hide her body. Then the black ink had dissolved off her face, revealing to be his one and only wife. The woman that he had been searching for, you looked so peaceful with your eyes closed as if you were sleeping. He sighed as he held your body close to him, pulling you into a tight embrace and tears forming in his eyes, glad that he had found you.

Taglist: @sorryi-mtrash, @call-me-nev

ₙₑₓₜ ₚₐᵣₜ

[aestherians]

Change and Loss

Word count: 1362

Expected reading time: 10-11 minutes

"If your otherkinity still serves you, it will never really leave you," is what I used to say - more as a reassurance than a statement of fact. I mean, how could I know for a fact that it was true? I didn't have any experience with losing a kintype. I still don't think I do; not really. And I always saw the idea repeated in the community - one time otherkind, always otherkind.

But I don't believe that's true anymore. I'm still a bison for sure. I've never doubted that. I'm still Ɐwhrayɐ the gnoll and I'm still Ben the shapeshifter… but I'm beginning to accept that those sides of me have changed.

"One time otherkin, always otherkin. If your otherkinity still serves you, it will never really leave you"… but what if that's not true? What if you still benefit from your kintypes, and they disappear regardless? What do you do if you lose a part of yourself, or if a part of yourself becomes unrecognizable to you? How do you keep living when you've lost yourself?

Sometime in 2023 the distress of always having to hide my true self became too much to bear alone. But I'm not a brave person. I think the better solution would've been to just bite the bullet and start expressing myself, but hindsight is 20/20. I've survived 25 years by hiding everything that makes me 'weird', and the idea of leaving my one dependable survival strategy behind was (is) terrifying. I went to a free self-help seminar ("Take control of your life!") but all it taught me is that I need a dependable support network before I can take control of my life. I went to my doctor to try and get a referral for a therapist (it's cheaper than just finding your own therapist). Instead he sent me to a psychiatrist for my 'delusions'. The psychiatrist told me my experiences, worldview, and self-perception were unusual but not harmful - they could only help if my goal was to get rid of my schizotypal traits (traits that weren't even significant enough to warrant a diagnosis). If all I wanted was to learn how to conquer my fears and express my true self, they couldn't help. It took months of visits to get the diagnosis: Traumatized by peer abuse, too poor to afford my own therapy, and too anxious and ADHD to even find a therapist in the first place.

I can't even say I was left at square one. I had started out hopeful. Nearing the end of 2023, I just felt helpless.

At the same time, my studies were drawing to a close. I completed my bachelor's degree in animal science and all it took was a diagnosis of ADHD so I could legally buy amphetamines, a compound-diagnosis of autism so I wouldn't get kicked out when I inevitably misunderstood exam questions and failed final after final, and 5½ years - almost twice the expected time for a bachelor's degree in my country.

It should've been freeing but instead it left me directionless. Helpless and directionless - that's how I entered 2024!

In the past, in the strictly structured day-to-day of school, my kintypes have been a source of comfort. Especially my Ben fictotype, which probably fell into the category of coping mechanism. I awakened in a time of intense stress and retreated to that world whenever my present life got too much. When crowds got me overstimulated or I missed an important deadline or fought with my neighbors or drifted apart from old friends, I thought about all the times Ben!me had gone through similar or worse. I cut off a friend in my present life after finding out he'd abused his ex - but in my other life I'd cut off a friend who tried to murder me, and things still turned out fine. I lived through it. I could live through it again. Every situation had a parallel in my other life.

I still don't know why that method failed me, but eventually it did. It's not that it didn't work, it was more that I suddenly had to put an effort into making it work. As if I'd always been able to enter Narnia and now suddenly I had to personally petition Aslan to let me back in. It started in the fall of 2023 but it wasn't until spring 2024 that I fully realized. Coping had never been an effort before, and the worst part is, I don't even know why it suddenly was.

My fictotype was drifting away, even when it still served me! This wasn't supposed to happen! Had I been lied to?!

I think our community has a lot of survivorship bias. Whichever mailing lists and newsgroups get archived, and whatever snailmail gets published, that's what our history is based on. The people who made archivable geocities sites get to write our story - not the people on closed forums or in private chat groups. People who leave the community don't tend to leave behind pristine essays on their fully archived websites explaining why they left. It does happen, don't get me wrong, but it's rare. And when they do leave behind messages, it's usually some variant of "I still love the community that fostered my awakening, I'm just an adult with responsibilities now and I don't have time for this."

But what about the people who don't love the community? Who 'unawakened'? Who aren't passionate enough to leave behind a final message? Do we ever hear from the otherkind who 'fizzled out' and became human - or at least lost a kintype?

You can understand my panic, right? I considered turning my fictotype into a copinglink, but my ADHD is so debilitating I barely remember to brush my teeth - no way I was gonna remember to do daily reinforcement exercises. Especially frazzled 2024 me (still frazzled as of June but I'm hanging in there!).

I was forced to accept whatever my come.

I'm still Ben, on some level, but I won't say "I'm thankfully still Ben," 'cause is it really that bad to not be Ben? Even if that facet had served me well and could still serve me? $1,000,000 could serve me well, but uselessly pining after it doesn't serve me.

I didn't prepare myself for loss because I really wasn't sure I was gonna lose a part of me - and, in any case, grieving preemptively is a waste of energy if you ask me. Instead a turned to the Bison - not my own bison theriotype, but the archetype of the Bison. When one woowoo solution fails, why not try another?

The Bison has always been a good teacher to me - better than any self-help seminar or psychiatrist. The Bison takes everything in stride. The Bison survives until it can thrive. The Bison ruminates on the present, it doesn't ponder the future. The Bison doesn't grieve or fret unnecessarily. It exists in the now. I exist in the now.

Of course, the chance that anyone reading this works with the Bison spirit is slim, but I think its teachings can help everyone - regardless of spirituality.

When turning to other worlds doesn't aid you, accept it, and turn to the present world. Let your worries pass through you, you can't see clearly when you're pent up with worry. You can't prevent the seasons from turning, all you can do is turn with them. Accept your lack of control, instead of trying to grasp at the uncontrollable. Sometimes change is unexpected, and you may not like it, and it might not even open up new doors for you. Not all change is good. But you cannot prevent every unwanted change, and you have to keep living regardless.

My fictionkinity doesn't have the intensity of my first few years post-awakening, but it also doesn't have the casual reassuredness of decade-old kintypes. It comes and goes, and when it comes it's like a whisper. And one day it might become too quiet for me to notice. One day it might not return.

But I think I can live with that.