#because the man is his father and i will be taking no questions about it

[chaosandmarigolds]

(Did the poll say happiness and rainbows? Yeah but I’m having fun with my angst so here’s more! :) )

“No I want to see him.”

The officer looked at the man, who looked like he had just rolled out of bed, and she narrows her eyes, “As I had told you, sir, Mister Taylor asked for no visitors unless family. And are you related to Missus Taylor or Oliver?” The question was a mock because she knew the answer.

So, with a bite of a tongue Price relented, “Who’s your supervisor?”

“He’s out of office.”

“Fuckin- course he is. Where’s Riley?”

“Mister Riley is currently in questioning.”

Price frowned, “But you already questioned him.”

The officer shrugged, “Our lead detective thought it best to do a second round.”

“Then I want to speak to your lead detective.”

“You and everyone else, take a ticket.”

-

To say your hands were shaking would be an understatement, you had been sitting in Johnny’s car for a close to an hour and so far you probably lost half your body weight in tears. It seemed unreal, there was no way it was actually reality, after all you had been through. It was just….

You jolt when someone knocks on the glass window, only to see Eliza by the door and you let out breath, quickly getting out of the car and into her arms.

“T-they still have Simon in questioning and-and he’s not answering my calls-“

“I know, John’s taking care of it. Oh honey,” her voice was a bit rasped and she looks you over, “You look like a mess.”

Your chest heaves for air as you ramble to her, telling her about how they took you all to the station at four in the morning and how everything was working against your favor. You both sat on the curb outside, as Johnny’s car was an incubator, her arm loosely wrapped around your shoulders and hands holding the coffee she had gotten you.

“Johnny went-Johnny went to be with Ollie, they…they wouldn’t let me see him.”

Eliza scoffs at that, “Bastards. Keeping a child from his mother.”

—

In hindsight it wasn’t best idea.

However, it did do its job. What job was that? Who knew.

“Uh oh,” Ollie whispered from the other side of the conference table, looking to his biological father (who was currently doubled over while clutching his nose), “You made uncle soap maaad.”

“You fucking bitch!” Caleb practically screamed, “I’ll have your job!”

Johnny stood perfectly still for a moment, as if he wasn’t sure if he had just imagined he punched him or if it was reality and he then snapped into the situation, “Ah please, as i’ you go’ a job tha’s all high n mighty.”

It took about a minute before an officer came back in to check on everything, and thanks to a somewhat threatening stare Caleb had just said he got a bloody nose and everything was alright.

“Oliver, come on. We’re leaving.”

“But I don wanna go.”

With a tug and hoist Oliver was being carried on Caleb’s side, “Didn’t ask we have a flight to catch.”

-

“For the fucking millionth time she had Oliver when I met her.”

“According to these files Oliver was with his father.”

“Bullshit!!!” Simon snipped back, his anger growing with each second. Every file, data bank, Facebook post made it seem like Oliver lived with Caleb until he went ‘missing’ two weeks ago. “Look at the bank statements why would she pay insurance for a child she doesn’t even have?”

The detective sighed, “We did, Mister Riley, she’s not paying for any child’s health insurance.”

This was insane.

“Mister Riley, I am going to ask one final time: did you help Missus Taylor take her son?”

With a glare Simon leaned forward on the table, “Didn’t fucking take him, because he’s ’een here wit us for ‘is entire life.”

-

“Caleb?” You slowly move to stand up as you watch your ex husband carry your son out of the station, and within a millisecond your blood was cold, “Oliver?”

“Mommy!” The boy practically screeched at the sight of you, trying to pry himself away from the man’s grasp, “Mommy I don’t wanna go!”

Before you had the chance to get to the car Caleb was currently putting Oliver into, you were held back.

“Lassie, lassie easy-“

“Johnny let-let me go.”

Johnny, with close to zero effort, turns you to face him, “Leave it. It’s gonna be okay, go’ a plan yeah? Ollie’s gonna be in his bed tonight, promise.”

(Teehee, that’s all for now)

[ccsainzleclerc5516]

All Yours. Only Yours.

Pairing: Lewis Hamilton x reader

Warnings: smut

It's been a little over 4 months since you and Lewis were forced to part your ways. It's been a little over 4 months since you have not been feeling yourself.

You weren't officially in a relationship, but you both fell hard for each other, you saw a future with each other. You were his baby girl, the only woman he wanted everything with. And you, you felt the happiest ever with him, safe in his arms, in his embrace. His kisses and his soft touch were your safe haven.

But 4 months ago all of that stopped when your father found out you were seeing Lewis. Your father completely lost it when he saw Lewis' arms wrapped around your waist and his lips pressed against yours. He couldn't stand the fact that his little girl was with a man 14 years older than her. He didn't see you as the woman that you were and so for him that relationship between the two of you was unacceptable.

At that very moment he forbade you to ever see him again. He told Lewis that if he ever approached you again, he would not be held accountable for his actions. He didn't care that Lewis was a seven time world champion nor that you would be financially secure with him for the rest of your life and you would never lack for anything. In his eyes, Lewis was a slob taking advantage of a young girl, his daughter, he despised it as much as he despised him.

You tried to protest, to convince him that Lewis' intentions with you were pure, that he would never do anything to hurt you and the most important thing that you love him and that you are truly happy with him. You begged, you were desperate, but that only made him angrier so that's when he gave you an ultimatum - if you choose to be with Lewis, you can forget that you have a father. It was either Lewis or him.

Your father's lack of understanding broke your heart, and it broke Lewis to see you like that. He could handle many things, but seeing his girl suffering was not on of those things. Lewis decided that he was not going to be the guy who stood between father and daughter and destroyed their close relationship.

He was forced to make one of the hardest decisions of his life and get away from you for good. He pushed you away, pretended he didn't want to see you again even though he was dying to. Deep down you knew why he was doing it, but that didn't ease your suffering one bit.

One night you cried so much that you physically felt pain in your chest. You could no longer spend your days and nights wondering where he was, what he was doing, if he had found someone new or if he was still thinking about you. You felt like your head was going to explode from all those questions you didn't know the answers to. That's when you found yourself knocking on his door late at night.

"Y/n? What are you doing here?" He asked as he opened the door. His eyes quickly filled with worry when he saw you crying in front of his door, but little did he know that as soon as you saw him, you instantly felt better.

He was standing in front of you, shirtless, looking down at you and barely holding back from pulling you to himself.

"Lew..I can't..I can't take it anymore.." You sobbed. "Don't you dare push me away and tell me that I can't be here because I don't wanna hear it!"

His eyes softened at your words and heart hurt a little even though he felt relieved that you still felt the same way about him.

"Baby girl.." He wiped away the tears under your eyes with his thumbs before pulling you into a tight hug. The tightest one yet.

"I miss you, Lew" You whisper as you wrap your arms around his neck your eyes darting to his lips. "Don't you miss me too?" You ask tilting your head a little as he brushes the hair out of your face.

"Of course I do" He sighs leaning his forehead against yours. "Fuck, I miss you more than I thought was possible"

"Then let's not miss each other anymore. Let's put an end to this agony and be together" Your eyes pleaded.

"Y/n, I want that more than life itself, but you know it's not that simple"

"I don't care, I've had enough. I won't let anyone else decide my happiness." You stated. "It's you that I want. Maybe some people will find it hard to accept, but it's 10 times harder for me to be without you than to fight with my dad."

Your words somehow brought peace to his soul. They encouraged him to fight for you and your future because for him there was before you, but there is no after you.

"I never thought you were gonna get that much under my skin. I should be pushing you away right now, telling you you should find someone else, someone better for you. I just can't seem to.. Or I don't want to. Or maybe both."

After what felt like ages, his lips finally met yours again. The kiss wasn't soft nor gentle, it was hungry and passionate, eager for more. "Come here" He slammed the door before patting the back of your thighs to which you responded by jumping up and wrapping your legs around his waist. You never broke the kiss as he led you towards his bedroom and laid you down on the bed.

He helped you take off your clothes leaving you only in your bra and panties. He took a second to admire your body tracing his fingers over your hip bone. "You're so beautiful, baby"

You smiled at his compliment tilting your head to get a better look of him as he started leaving kisses all over your stomach. Once his lips reached the hem of your panties, he stopped for a second to look up at you while his hand caressed your leg.

"Can I kiss you here?" He asked softly.

"Please kiss me there" You quickly granted his request.

"Spread your legs for me"

He left a kiss over the lace fabric before tugging them down your legs and letting them fall to the floor. He started slowly, licking you lazily up and down your folds. You were so eager for him that you could feel your wetness trickling down your holes. You clenched your legs around his head giving him a perfect opportunity to grab your ass and bury his face deeper.

"Ahh, yes, yes" You moaned as his tongue swirled over your clit. He was changing his pace, leaving quick kitten licks and then attaching his lips to your clit and sucking on it.

You started to move too much from the pleasure that was overwhelming you so he put his hand over your stomach to keep you in place. His other hand found your entrance and the tips of his fingers started teasing you circling around it.

"Please" You pleaded.

"Please what? What do you want, baby?"

"Put your fingers in me"

The sight of you lying so spread out for him, whimpering his name, begging him for more made him grind his hips against the mattress trying to create any kind of friction to his rock hard dick.

Granting your wish he pushed his index finger in. His eyes were stuck on your parted lips and closed eyes, he loved how responsive, how obedient you were to him. You arched your back as he added another one pumping them in and out of you. It didn't take long for your legs to start shaking and squeezing around his head.

"That's it baby, cum around my fingers"

As you finished, he pulled his fingers out of you and brought them to his lips to taste you not wasting any drop as he licked them clean.

"You did so good" He said softly into your ear before he kissed you.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Of course"

"Have you been with anyone else since we stopped seeing each other?" You were curious. You don't know how you would react if he actually was. It would hurt you, definitely, but you'd still want him as much as you do now.

"No, baby girl, the other side of this bed belongs only to you." He smiled caressing your cheek knowing there was no other girl for him except for you.

"And what about you?"

"All yours. Only yours." He assured you once again bringing peace to your mind and heart. "Gonna prove it to you right now" He said leaving sloppy kisses down your neck. "Gonna show you how much I missed you"

Pulling down his shorts and boxers, he pressed his dick against your stomach slowly grinding himself up and down while holding his weight on his arms just above you.

Your hand slid down taking him in your hand and giving him a few strokes. Your touch made him shiver and groan in response. It was as if he was waiting for your permission.

"Fuck me, Lew" You whispered. Your hand led him to your entrance and he wasted no time pushing himself inside of you. He left kisses all over your face and stayed still so you could get used to him. Once you felt ready he started slowly thrusting in and out of you.

"You feel how hard I am for you? Only you can make me this hard, baby" You moaned at his words wrapping your arms around his neck.

"Uhh, yes baby, fuck me, fuck me hard"

"Fuck, baby, you're so dirty" Lewis got a little carried away at your prompting so he suddenly and strongly increased his pace. Your breasts spilled out of your bra as he pounded into you and he couldn't resist but to leave mark just above your nipple. "So fucking perfect"

Your brought your hands to your boobs squeezing them and playing with your nipples and the sight drove him completely crazy. It awakened the animal in him so he pulled out only to push his dick all the way inside you. You winced pushing your hand at his pelvis as he hit your deepest spot.

"You okay, baby? Want me to stop?" He asked with concern.

"No, no it's just you're so big and so deep inside" You whimpered.

"Yeah, baby? You feel me here?" He smirked putting his hand over your lower stomach. "You feel me in your stomach? Just a little more love, I'm almost there. You gonna cum with me?" You nodded as he started slowly moving again.

"Take it just like that. My good girl taking my dick so well. So pretty. Can't get enough of you." You moaned as your hand slid down your stomach adding pressure to your clit while Lewis continued fucking you.

"You gonna let me fill you up?"

"Mhm" You moaned.

"Yeah? Wanna see my cum dripping out of your pussy" The pressure in the pit of your stomach started building up again with every dirty word that left his lips. "Gonna get you full of my cum, fuck" That's all it took to push you over the edge and come undone around him. You screamed out his name and his orgasm followed yours filling you up to the brim.

Both panting, sweating, you could hardly catch your breath as a strong sense of pleasure coursed through your bodies. Still deeply immersed in you, he propped himself up on his elbows hovering over you and leaving a kiss on your cheek. "Are you okay, baby?" He asked.

"I'm more than okay" You smiled rubbing his cheek with your thumb as his eyes lit up.

"That's good to hear."

"Let's take a shower and cuddle until we fall asleep, yeah?"

"Wait, before we do that, I just wanna tell you something"

"Tell me what?"

"I love you, so much" And there it was. His first I love you to you. The first time he said it out loud even though he's showed it in so many ways already. "Wanna spend the rest of my life with you"

"I'm not going anywhere, I promise. I love you, baby."

[treacheryinblue]

Chapter 2/4

A Noah Sebastian x F!Reader One Shot Series

Word Count: 7.1k

Masterlist

× Summary: Noah is Death, the ruler of the after life (or whatever you want to call it), though he is cursed to watch you come and go from his never ending existence time and time again.

× Warnings!: Eh-level smut (oral [f receiving], P in V obviously, touch of spanking), language, little bit of violence, tiny fluff if you squint, slight dom!noah, smut with plot aka this became more in depth than I meant for it to aka a one shot that's now a series. Let me know if I missed anything!

× Author's Notes: ( 1 ) Thank you sooo much for all the support this story has been given. It was never was supposed to be more than a one shot, but after all the excitement behind it, I've decided to make it into a short series! I'm going to try to keep it at four parts, just to show the lore behind the characters and also maybe why it's happening...if I can make my brain create such things. ( 2 ) PLEASE suspend all thoughts of how time works when reading this. Time is pretty much just NOT a thing in Noah's realm. It's nonlinear and I refuse to be tied down by it! Also, hopefully the context clues are obvious enough for people to pick up on what time period the female character is from in each chapter. If not, feel free to hit me with a question.

Happy reading! xoxo

“The Dark Lord will be pleased with this one.” 

An unknown voice sounded out around you, immediately sending a chill down your spine. You heard yourself expel a whimper of fear as your hands responded by trembling in their bindings. The man must've noticed this because a sadistic sounding laugh rang out, echoing through wherever you were and reverberating in your ears. 

How long had you been tied down to this slab of rock? It easily could've only been hours, though it felt like days. Weeks. An eternity. Nothing felt longer than waiting for your impending death. 

“Please…” you pleaded in a soft and broken voice. “Let me go and I will make sure no harm comes of you.” 

The men again cackled, the kind that you were sure had them gripping their bellies and arching back. Maybe it was a good thing you couldn't see their dirty faces and broken teeth taunting you. That would never be the last thing you'd want anyone to have to witness before their untimely demise. 

“The blade. Now.”

Something cool pressed to your chest and immediately forced a slight gasp out of you. Again, you began to tear up and pull at your restraints, although you had no idea what you would do if you happened to free yourself. The noises you had picked up on told you that there were more than two people there, and after so long without food or water, you'd never be able to take them. You were doomed one way or the other. 

As the blade traveled downwards, it was made to puncture and rip the bodice of your dress. Another set of hands tugged the thin fabric to further open it, revealing your bare torso beneath it. 

“Please! Don't do this!” You cried, now feeling shame from being so exposed. 

How horrible was it that you were briefly only concerned about what your mother and father would say of this? They'd scold you, hissing words of how it wasn't very ‘lady like’ and that ‘no man would want you now’. You would be the ‘shamed whore’ of your village. 

Before those thoughts could lead with any traction, the sound of faint chanting snapped you from your own thoughts. It started as a whispering and ever so slowly began working its way higher and higher with every repeated line. Unfortunately, you couldn't make out any of the words. It was possible that it was in another language, though also likely that your sobs took the forefront of the focus. 

As the volume grew, so did your fear. Your breathing was rapid and uneven, a cool sweat forming across your chest and along the back of your neck. It was not being able to see what was happening that was also truly terrifying. Your captors had blind folded you after securing you down, this being the last time you saw any of their faces. It had been days of darkness - if not longer. 

The chanting had started increasing in pace. Voices roared all around you and you could sense someone probably just within your reach (had your hands been free) but they had yet to do or say anything. You sobbed beneath your blindfold, the ropes holding you down rubbing your poor wrists raw from how you had been desperately trying to pull them free. They burned with every motion, and you were sure blood had been coating them since day one. Not that anyone around cared enough to take note. 

“Please!” You yelled again, the single worded plea broken from your constant waterfall of tears. You swore you even heard another chuckle from right beside you. 

“Send our love to the Dark Lord.” 

A fierce pain punctuated his final statement as the blade ripped through your chest. You screamed in terror, just for the blade to be retrieved and then forced through skin, muscle, bone, again and again until you were nothing but a husk of who you had once been. 

× × ×

Piercing eyes stared at you from across the long table, silently watching every move you made, no matter how small. You could feel the weight of his gaze despite having told him before how uncomfortable it made you - this had shocked him into a brief silence - but it obviously hadn't been important enough information for him to retain. 

As you reached for your glass of wine, he did the same. His motions mirrored yours when you both took a swallow from the glass, followed by another, then another - the third being a mere test to see if he would or not. 

“Stop.” 

The demand left you with an irritated sigh, your wine glass then being loudly placed back to the table top. He chose to do the opposite, instead opting to lightly set his own glass down in a more respectable manner. 

“Stop what?” 

Your eyes narrowed at him, lips pressed tight together to showcase to him just how completely and utterly annoying he was. Ever since your arrival, he had done nothing but get under your skin day after day, night after night, second after second. 

Maybe you really were in Hell. 

“I'm going back to my quarters.” 

You weren't going to do this with him again. It had become an every encounter sort of thing at this point - both of you engaging in an argument until you finally stomped off or he dismissed you before you ‘fell victim to his true nature’. How in the world were you supposed to live like this? For how long? Every time you’d yell this inquiry at him, he would only smile like he knew a secret you didn't. 

Dropping your napkin to your plate, you were just about to push away from the table when his voice halted your every movement. 

“Sit back down now. I haven't excused you.” 

There was a sternness to his demand that you had yet to hear from him prior. It shook you to your core…in a way you hadn't expected. 

There was a brief pause as you stared at him. You were silently debating with yourself as to whether or not you should listen, weighing the options. Since you had nowhere to go where he couldn't find you, you did as he requested. 

“Maybe I've gone about this the wrong way. Maybe I've been too nice. Too lenient. Too patient. Since those approaches don't appear to be working, we're going to switch up to the way I prefer things.” 

The man you knew as Noah slowly stood from his chair. Those eyes of his never broke from yours, not even as he placed his palms on the table top and leaned forward a bit to assert only an ounce of his dominance. You wanted to say it didn't make you want to cower in a corner, but it did. 

Or maybe take your clothes off…

“You are here in my domain. Do you know what that means?” 

Noah's eyebrows raised when he paused, though you knew he wasn't looking for an answer. He already had one of his own loaded and ready to go. 

“It means I'm the fucking King and it would be in your best interest to not disobey me.”

You thought it would end there. Unfortunately, that wasn't the case. 

But wait…what was this new sensation you were beginning to feel? It was warm and tingly…quite different from any you had experienced before, both when dead or alive. 

“It doesn't matter to me that it's you. You are still required to make sure I remain pleased.” 

This caught your curiosity and it showed in the way your own brows pulled together ever so slightly. 

“What does that mean?” 

“It means that you listen to m-”

“No, the first part.” 

You could see the way his features softened when he realized what he had said. Was this one of those secrets he always seemed to be keeping from you? Obviously. The issue was that you had no clue what it meant. 

“For the love of Go-!” Noah paused before he could get the entire saying out, his jaw clenching and face reddening as if it would truly pain him to say the words. With a deep exhale through his nose, he stood to his full height and raked his fingers roughly through his hair. He was frustrated, though something told you that it wasn't all because of your defiant behavior. 

The anger he held was bubbling to the surface and forcing him to lose his composure. He growled as he latched onto the chair and sent it hurling to the ground, followed by the glass of wine he had previously been nursing. Both became shattered pieces that would be impossible to repair. 

“Why do you not remember yet?! Is this some cruel joke you're playing on me? Is that it?!” 

Before you could even blink he was in front of you. He had forced your chair out a bit, enough for him to wedge himself in front of it to prevent you from escaping. His tattooed hands firmly grasped at the arms of the chair, intense eyes level with your own. 

You weren't frightened of him. You had endured the wrath of more vile men many times in the past, your father being one of them, so this temper tantrum of his did not register as a threat. 

Plus, you were already dead. What more could he do to you? 

“I need you to remember.” 

These words were spoken in a much softer tone, almost like he was begging you. Pleading. The pain was clear in his eyes and for some reason this hurt you as well. Why did you care about his feelings? Why did you want to make him feel better? Never during any of your previous altercations had you felt this way. 

“I'm sorry…I don't know how…I don't understand…”

Noah appeared crushed. You swore you could hear the sound of his heart breaking; that's how deep his emotions ran along his features. He dropped to his knees in front of you, his head bowed to keep his face hidden. The hands that had once been gripping the arms of the chair fell to your covered knees, now grasping tight to you in any way he could. 

“Please…try for me? There's a part of you that would do anything for me, just as I would do for you.” 

Although his words continued to confuse you, they didn't disturb you or make you uncomfortable as they previously had. There was even a fraction of you that believed him…which only made you want to try as he was requesting. 

Maybe he could sense this, because you felt one of his hands fall and begin lightly tracing along your ankle. The other remained on your knee, still clutching tight. 

“Close your eyes…will yourself to remember…I know you can.” 

There was a flicker of something behind your closed eyes, almost like a thought. Maybe a memory. You weren't too sure because the scene clip was foreign and not anything you had ever experienced in your living life. All that was familiar within the abrupt flash were his eyes and the way they devoured you. 

“That…what was that?” 

Noah’s hand cradled your cheek, his touch immediately causing you to open your eyes and connect with his own. There was now a hopeful gleam within them, so much that you swore you even saw his lips threatening to turn up into a smile. 

“Did you remember something? Tell me.”

All you could do was slowly shake your head. Even if you wanted to tell him what the brief image had been, you knew you wouldn't be able to put it into words. It was like trying to describe a color to someone that they would never see for themselves. An impossible task to say the least. 

Without another word, you quickly pushed him away from you and stood from your chair. Noah was stunned by your actions but made no move to stop you from running away, not like you had expected him to. As you exited the dining room, all you heard behind you was the sound of more glass breaking and Noah’s pained yells. 

× × ×

Sleep eventually took over you that night, though it hadn't come easy. To bring forth this needed unconsciousness, you had to think of the images from earlier and imagine what scenario it was attached to. 

It took place in an unknown room, though you could assume this room was in the same domain you currently were held in. The decor was the same, the walls and lighting giving this away. It wasn't your current room, though, but somewhere a little more lived in. It was comfortable, if you were being honest. Almost as comfortable as the bed you were laid out over in this flash of images. 

There was a warmth that accompanied them, one that you were only barely accustomed to. You had experienced it before during your living existence when you had hiked your dress up to your hips and buried your fingers between your thighs - these moments were fleeting and only happened enough times for you to count on one hand. 

Although, it wasn't your hands that brought forth the unfamiliar but welcomed warmth this time, but something - someone - far more enticing. 

A pleasure radiated throughout your entire being in a way that had your body trembling and your voice crying out for more. You had managed to open your eyes long enough to see his head between your spread thighs, decorated fingers holding tight to you to make sure you remained fully open for him, all while his mouth worked wonders in ways you didn't know possible. 

“Noah!” You moaned and whimpered, his name on your lips only sending him into an excited frenzy. He groaned into you as his mouth secured around your clit, harshly sucking before soothing the nerves with swipes of his tongue that made your hips buck and your cunt clench in a desperate need to be filled. 

“You're so perfect…” he breathed as he pulled back just enough to watch his fingers disappear inside of you. The sensation was heavenly, as ironic as that was, even more so when his long digits dipped and curled within your dripping wet warmth. Noah stroked along a spot that immediately had you gasping for air and gripping tight to the already tangled sheets your body had become well acquainted with. The mess of linens told you that you had been at this for a bit now, and it definitely wasn't his first time admiring you from below. 

“Don't stop, please…” you begged, soft and gentle between your labored breathing. 

Noah happily obliged, not that he had any plans on stopping until he was thoroughly satisfied with your amount of pleasure. His wicked mouth returned to your clit, tongue swirling and flicking in a way only the Devil could know how, while his fingers assisted in bringing you right to the edge. 

If this was eternal damnation, then you would willingly devote the rest of your existence to it, to him. 

Just a couple more firm strokes of his fingers and your body was tensing, a pressure building so high that it literally felt as if you were going to explode. And almost as soon as the thought passed your mind, your body released - literally and metaphorically. Moans heaved from you and your hips writhed beneath Noah’s form, a sudden wave of pure heat traveling through you and coating his fingers. The bed became soaked, though Noah seemed less than concerned about this. He hadn't even let up on pulling your clit between his lips and forcing his fingers harder within the collapsing and pulsing walls of your cunt. 

You awoke from your slumber with a gasp, your body abruptly sitting up in bed. It took a moment for you to gather yourself, but you eventually noticed that you were alone and no longer in the room from your…dream? Memory? It was still so hard to say. As you made a motion to move, you felt a throb between your thighs, a deep pulsing just like the one your subconscious had just been experiencing. 

You thought nothing of it at first, not until you stood from the bed only to realize the sheets, as well as your clothing, held a wet spot right where one could assume. 

It only took a moment for you to change, though you left yourself bare beneath the sleeping gown with not even the top tied securely. There was no reason for you to waste time with it when there was one thing on your mind now. 

After a few wrong turns and having to backtrack more than you'd like to admit, you finally stumbled upon the study where you knew Noah to spend the majority of his time. Sometimes you swore this domain liked to purposely switch up and change on you, just to make finding your intended location all the more difficult. 

“Stop lingering,” his voice called out after you had stood outside the cracked door for far too long. 

A small jolt in response to his voice being directed to you caused your heart to skip a beat, though you did as he said and gently pushed the study door open enough for you to slip through. 

“How did you kno-”

“Nothing happens here without my knowledge of it. No matter how small or…private.”

That's when his eyes lifted to meet with you, they focused in on your hips first before slowly trailing up to your own gaze. Something gleamed within his stare, but it wasn't something you were yet capable of putting your finger on. All you knew was that it further stirred a sensation inside you. 

“It's late,” Noah then pointed out as he leaned back in his chair, sights still locked on you. 

You nodded in understanding, slow steps being taken closer to the desk he resided behind. Instead of stopping in front of it, you moved around the side and only paused once you were in front of him, just within arm’s reach. You could see Noah's chest inflate with a deep inhale, his eyes further darkening at the close proximity. Had his gaze even flickered down to where your hardened nipples were evident beneath the thin fabric of the dress you wore? You swore they had. 

Speaking of your clothing…it was drastically different from what Noah always wore. His black on black suit wasn't like anything you were used to seeing, though your clothes were reminiscent of your time, unchanging from what you knew. How odd, you thought to yourself. This wasn't the time to ponder such things, though. It was just one more mystery added to the collection you were keeping note of. 

“I had a dream,” you finally revealed. A hand hesitantly reached out so you could trail a finger slowly beneath his jaw, a simultaneous step closer to him also being taken. “At least…I think it was only a dream.”

“A memory, perhaps.” Noah spoke up, his eyebrows raised. 

“Perhaps.” Your hand fell from his face and you swore you noticed a sadness quickly glaze over his eyes, almost as if he missed your touch already. Lucky for him, you had no intention of keeping your hands to yourself right then. 

Delicate fingers clutched the fabric that covered your body, now being pulled up just enough so you could freely move while settling into Noah’s lap. Your knees straddled him and his hands moved to lay atop the bare skin of your thighs, almost like a reflex. 

“Tell me what you remember.” 

A slight shrug of your shoulder caused the gown to fall away, revealing more of your skin to him. His eyes followed the trail of your neck down your shoulder and to your chest, just as he reached up to further tug the fabric away in a gentle manner until the swell of your breasts were shown. 

Noah had learned forward so he could slowly kiss along the bared skin of your chest. His hands traveled up the sides of your thighs, purposely pushing the hem of the dress up more, but not fully. He was then gripping your waist, slyly pulling your body even closer to his while his lips dipped between the valley of your breasts. 

“It's mainly feelings that I remember, not necessarily specific moments…” 

A question lingered at the tip of your tongue, one that you weren't really sure the meaning of. It was merely plaguing the back of your mind, leaving you curious for an answer that could possibly mean absolutely nothing to you. 

“How…many times have I been here?” 

The inquiry caused Noah to pause, his eyes flickering up to yours before he relayed an answer. 

“This makes five. Five lives…five versions of you…and this you by far has been the most stubborn.” 

This knowledge didn't frighten you like it would have mere hours ago. No, it actually made a bit of sense now, like the puzzle pieces were all slowly starting to come together. 

“And each one is me?” 

Noah hummed lightly, his lips returning to their trek along your chest. He was being much softer with you than you would've imagined, especially given the outburst you had witnessed from him earlier. 

“Same body, same eyes, same markings…” he punctuated this with a slight bite to a prominent freckle that sat off to the side of your right breast. “Even the same name.”

“So…where are all of the previous versions of me at?” 

A heavy sigh followed your question, his jaw clenched in obvious frustration. Having not yet answered, Noah swiftly picked you up and laid you down atop his desk after swiping the unnecessary items aside. There was a darkness in his eyes again, and you noticed that his previous soft caresses were becoming much more defined and needy. Witnessing this had your insides stirring, but in a way that made you thankful for wearing nothing more than your sleep gown. 

“You’ve been taken from me.” 

Noah’s voice was harsh, the words almost being hissed through gritted teeth. Apparently you had touched on a sore subject without even realizing it. But still, he began undressing himself as you laid beneath him, vulnerable and aching. Not even his growing anger was going to stop him from having you. 

With his torso now bared to you, you took a moment to take in all of the permanent etchings that crowded his skin. You had never seen such things before, though you've heard tales of tattoos and these being described as the ‘mark of the Devil’. Clearly your time wasn't too far off, considering who you were currently in the company of.

A hand grabbed your face and forced you to look up at him as his body hovered over your own. Noah’s eyes were as intense as ever as he searched within yours, on a hunt for something. 

“You aren't meant for this world but you are mine. I'll see to it that every death brings you to me. They can't stop me.”

They? 

There was no chance for you to inquire about this because Noah’s mouth was then on yours, all hot and desperate. He kissed you like his life depended on it - funny enough - like you were the only thing that could breathe oxygen back into his lungs. And much to your own surprise, you kissed him back with just as much ferocity. His taste was addicting and familiar, one that you wanted to hold onto for as long as you could. 

Even as he pulled back, you swiped your tongue along your lower lip simply to savor what remained. 

One strong pull was all it took for Noah to rip the gown you wore straight down the middle, his eyes immediately drinking you in. He leaned down and took one of your nipples into his mouth, moaning against your heated skin while flicking his tongue along the hardened bud before sinking his teeth in. You gasped at the slight pain, but the rise of your hips to grind against his let him know that you actually enjoyed it. 

Noah smirked as he moved to your opposite nipple, displaying the same loving abuse to it. A warmth was pooling between your thighs and you were suddenly so eager for his touch that you didn't know what to do with yourself. Your hips continued to grind along his, desperate to feel any sort of relief, but the material of his pants were too soft and not at all what you were aching for. 

“Not so defiant now, are you?” He taunted, his clothed hips firmly pressing into yours just to further rile you up. 

“Look at you…desperate and whining…you must be remembering how good I can make you feel.”

Indeed you were, because never have you felt a need as strong as this before. Something in you knew just how mind blowing a climax at his hands could be and you wanted it now. You were so caught up in your own selfish needs that you hadn't even heard the sound of his belt coming off or the distinct ripple of the zipper being dragged down. When your eyes met with him again, he was fully naked and standing between your legs, slowly stroking along every inch of his hard cock. 

“Fuck…the things you do to me,” he murmured to himself, heavily exhaling through his nose. You watched in awe as he continued to touch himself, his hips pushing forward to thrust into his hand, even as he rubbed the head of his cock down between your folds. Noah’s eyes closed and his head tossed back, reveling in the sensation of you being so wet for only him. 

“Please…” you whimpered, your legs spreading more as if that would help entice him in. As much as you liked watching him get himself off, surprisingly enough, you were far too needy in that moment to have any bit of his stamina wasted on his hand. 

Releasing the hold he had on his cock, he instead grabbed your calf and lifted your leg to his shoulder. His strong hands now held your hips, the tip of his cock pressed right to your entrance since he had produced the perfect angle after maneuvering your body around however he saw fit. 

“You have to be a good girl and take it,” he instructed, his voice soothing but still holding an edge to it. 

Noah pressed forward, allowing only the swollen head of his cock to stretch through your tight walls that hugged him just as close as he remembered. 

“Say it.” He demanded, refusing to go any further until you had. 

You shakily breathed out, your heart racing and blood pumping so fast that your cheeks were flushed a deep red already. “I'll be a good girl,” you repeated his words, nodding. “I'll take it, I promise.”

Happy with this, Noah thrusted forward in a swift motion that you had taking every inch he had to offer. Your tight pussy welcomed him into your depths with a constricting pulse that would've made him cum right then had he not had an eternity of practiced self control. 

Noah deeply groaned, his jaw set and biceps flexed while holding you in place. Your own moans mixed with his, your body trembling in his grasp from just how intense it was to be fully filled by him. It was like nothing you had ever felt before…quite literally since your living existence had yet to experience the touch of another. You had only known a release at your own hands, which was nothing compared to this. 

“That's it…” he cooed the familiar phrase as he began his rapid pace of driving his cock deep into you again and again, forcing moans and profanities never yet spoken from you each time. “You're always so good at taking it.” 

Oh, how you wanted nothing more than to take all that he had to offer. 

The stretch of your walls were so tight around him that you swore you could feel every engorged vein throbbing when he forced himself as deep as possible. Noah turned his head so he could kiss along your ankle, the grip he had on your calf tightening just before leaning forward a bit. It was a good thing you were pretty limber or else a cramp would've surely ruined the mood by now. Noah didn't seem concerned about this, though. He was far too focused on the shape of your lips as you cried out his name. 

This angle had to have been created by this Devil himself though, because you could barely take a breath from how overpowering it was. You looked up at him with furrowed brows and nothing but silence as your breath caught in your throat. Every inch of your body tensed, though this had yet to cease his quickening thrusts. Your cunt felt too good, too warm, too tight, for him to let up now. 

“Noah!” His name finally erupted from you again, just as an unexpected orgasm took charge. Your head tossed back and your hips arched up as much as possible, your pussy now gripping his cock like a vice. Your walls were so strong that you noticed he was finally beginning to break a sweat. 

As the climax shook through your body, his motions began to slow before coming to a complete halt. He stared down at you, a fire in his eyes. 

“Did I say you could cum?” The question was punctuated with a firm spank to the side of your thigh, a sting radiating outwards that you knew you'd be feeling for some time afterwards. 

“Hadn't I just told you that you're meant to listen to me? That I'm the King and you do as I say?” 

Noah had shifted your leg off his shoulder and pulled his hips back until he was no longer inside of you. The loss of connection made you whine and pout because one orgasm hadn't been enough. You desperately needed more. 

“I couldn't stop it,” you explained while he forced you up, around, and then back down so the front of your body was pressed to the desk. 

“You promised you were going to be a good girl.” 

There was a bit of rustling from behind you, followed by the faint clink of metal that you recognized from his belt when he had been removing it not long ago. Your thighs pressed together in anticipation for whatever he had planned for you now since you knew that fleeting moment of softness from him was long gone. 

“But good girls ask before they cum, and you didn't ask.” The sound of something moving quickly through the air garnered your attention, but a mere second later a sharp sting forced a yelp from you when the folded edge of his belt made contact with your ass. The pain shot right to your core, your cunt clenching eagerly around nothing. 

Another crack rang out when the belt again collided with your tender ass cheek. You whimpered and writhed, your hands desperately trying to grab onto something to steady yourself but there was nothing within reach on the desk. While it did hurt, and the pain only worsened with each spank, you still couldn't help but to crave more. Maybe it was because Noah was now rubbing his palm soothingly over the red and welted area, or maybe it was because you liked allowing him this power over you. 

You held a power of your own over him as well, whether he wanted to admit it or not. Although now may have not been the time to bring that up. 

“Look at how fucking wet you're getting from this,” he mused gleefully as his fingers dipped down to brush along your pussy. He gathered the wetness around his fingertips after sinking his digits into you, though he only graced you with a couple of pumps before their retreat. 

Noah leaned over your body so his mouth was at your ear, his wet fingers forcing their way between your lips for you to obediently clean. Which you did without hesitation or complaint, even going so far as to moan softly at the taste of yourself. 

“Now, are you going to be my good girl or do I need to punish you a bit more?” He whispered into your ear while lightly brushing your hair back from your face. 

You could feel his hard cock between your thighs, teasing you with what you so badly wanted again. This assisted in you making up your mind, despite how much you enjoyed the punishment given. 

“I'll be your good girl,” you promised once his fingers were pulled from your mouth. 

Noah circled his strong hand around your jaw before placing a firm kiss to the side of your head. “That was the correct answer.” 

Gently forcing your body back around to face his, he was careful to then set you on the edge of the desk. You winced at the weight being placed on your abused bottom, and it was only intensified when Noah purposely grasped the exact area, fingertips digging into the welts. There was no room for true pain when it was quickly overpowered by the euphoric sensation of him thrusting into you again. 

Christ, if you weren't already dead then this man surely would've been the death of you. 

Both hands squeezed your hips as he helped drag you along his cock, maneuvering your body in just the right way so he was hitting every spot inside of you that had you gasping for air. Your mind was occupied solely with thoughts of him, especially when taking in how he was gazing at you. It didn't matter that bits of his hair clung to his forehead with sweat or that you could barely take a breath without demanding that he fuck you harder, because Noah was still staring at you like you were the only thing in this entire melancholic universe that mattered. 

“You're fucking amazing,” he grunted just as he pushed against your chest to lay you back on the desk again. This allowed him free reign to drive his cock at a maddening pace into your depths, his thrusts relentless to what your mere mortal body could handle. 

Did it matter since you were already dead, though? Were you technically a mortal still? So many questions. 

Your noises of ecstasy echoed through the study as your cunt throbbed around his twitching cock. The way Noah’s hips began to slow until he was taking long drags out of you, only to roughly thrust forward again, told you that he was close. You weren't sure how you knew, but you did. Just as you somehow knew other things little that would make him tick - both in good and bad ways. 

“You look so beautiful like this.”

You couldn't help but to smile through your delightful torment, your body already so sensitive from your previous orgasm and all of the other things Noah had made you feel that night. From his unmatched stamina, so you could assume, to the pain of his belt across your ass that made your cunt clamp tighter around his cock just from thinking about it. 

Noah must've noticed because he released a deep growl from his chest, his head now bowed and eyes closed as he continued his unforgiving thrusts. 

“Oh!” You gasped the moment his palm pressed against your lower stomach and his thumb made contact with your clit. Your hips jerked and your thighs threatened to close, but his grip on the one only tightened to a harsh squeeze to keep you perfectly spread for him. 

“You have to ask.” Noah reminded you, since he was well aware of what your reactions were pointing to. 

Your eyes rolled back and your teeth sunk deep into your lower lip, breathless moans escaping one after the other, making it nearly impossible for you to say much of anything. 

“Please!” You finally were able to pant out, a faint whine to follow. “Can I cum? Please?” 

Noah smirked at your obedience. The sound of your begging only made him drive harder into your core, his thumb still working against your overly sensitive clit. 

“Please please please,” the pleading continued in a faint whisper, this being all you could manage out now in a little chant of desperation. 

Instead of voicing his approval, he merely gave a single nod just before planting both of his hands on the desk near your head. He was leaning over you now, his hips violently colliding with yours. Dark eyes focused down on your face and you immediately knew he wanted to watch up close as you fell apart for him again. 

Your hands ran up his sides and back to clutch his shoulder blades, nails sinking harshly into his inked skin the moment your climax took over. Every inch of your body spasmed beneath his, your knees digging into his hips and nails dragging down his back in a way that made him sharply inhale in an almost hiss. 

“Oh my go-!” The cry was nearly completed when his hand covered your mouth, preventing you from voicing the final word. Though this didn't stop you from moaning in a continuous yet muffled fashion as a wave rushed through your body and your cunt hungrily tried dragging in more of his cock. 

“Fuck, you're doing so good,” he murmured in a low tone that had your insides melting and your orgasm freely flowing around him. “Fucking hell!”

Noah groaned as his thrusts became a little more sloppy before a final drive forward had him pausing as deep as possible inside of you. The muscles in his arms and shoulders tensed as he erupted, the vein in the side of his neck now more prominent. You couldn't help but to crane your neck forward just a bit in order to sink your teeth into it, bringing forth a moan from him directly into your ear. 

Shivers traveled your body from the overly full feeling of him cumming inside of you and filling you to the brim, his arousal mixing with your own and overflowing. Still, your cunt continued to pulse and flutter around his cock, emptying him for all that he was worth. Your hips even rolled up into his again, purposely working yourself along his length simply because you could and because it felt so fucking good to have him stroking your g-spot, no matter how sensitive and spent your body was. 

“I told you I could be a good girl,” you breathed against his neck while trailing your lips up in search of his. Noah chuckled into the kiss you eventually indulged him with, his brow finally relaxing now that you had stopped grinding into him and he could properly think. 

Lifting his head after you parted from the kiss, he gazed down at you to admire how beautiful you looked with your cheeks flushed and a post-sex glow setting in. It was the first time he had seen you appear genuinely happy since your arrival, and while he of course wanted your body again and again, he also wanted to see that as often as he could. 

“Don't think I've forgotten about how you acted at dinner.” His tone was serious only for a fleeting moment. Your eyes widened slightly, the welt on your ass pulsating as if to remind you of the punishments he could make you endure. 

Noah cracked a faint grin before dragging his hand along the side of your face and claiming your lips once again. He was then standing to his full height and carefully pulling you to a sitting position along with him, where he slowly pulled himself out from your drenched core. A faint whimper escaped you, though you quickly covered it with a bite to your inner cheek. 

“No need to worry about that now. I'll let you know when I'm coming to collect for your defiant behavior.”  

Well, that surely made your pussy clench in eager anticipation. 

Flexing and rolling his shoulders back, he muttered something about giving him a second and then scurried off, but not before making a quick turn back to kiss you again. As he disappeared, you took this moment to glance around the study. It was one of the many rooms you hadn't really been in before, Noah's bedroom included, because you always felt they were too personal for you to see. 

And much to your own shock, Noah never entered your room either. At least you knew he could respect boundaries to a degree. But now? Well, now you weren't so sure what sort of boundaries remained for you two. 

Taking in a deep breath, you lifted a hand to gently massage into the back of your neck, just as your eyes swept across the large bookcase that lined one side of the room. Something on one of the shelves immediately acquired your attention: a knife of sorts, a dagger, with rubies embedded in the handle. There was something very familiar about it, so much so that you found yourself slipping from the desk to make your way over to where it was displayed. 

“I wasn't sure if you wanted to remain in the clothes you're used to, so I brought that and another option…” his voice grew quieter as it trailed off upon realization that you were no longer on the desk. 

Noah's returning presence couldn't pry your eyes away from the dagger, nor could his soft demand for you to tell him what you were doing. Instead, you reached out to lightly trace along the sheath the dagger was housed in before ultimately picking it up and pulling it from the enclosure. 

“What is this?” 

Noah was by your side within seconds, his hand reaching for the item though you made an abrupt turn to step away from him. 

“I need you to give me the dagger now…please. Then, maybe, we can discuss just what it is.”

There was a churning in your stomach and your heart was now beating so loud that you could hear it thumping within your ears. You recognized this dagger despite having only seen it for a few seconds after your captors all but dragged you to your death. A multitude of memories flashed before your sights of this dagger in particular, although in many different scenarios and situations.

Your eyes were pooling with tears as you finally looked up at him, both confusion and hurt written all across your face. It appeared as if Noah wanted to say something but he remained silent, his hand still outstretched like you were actually going to hand the item over to him. 

“This was what was used to kill me, Noah. More than once. Why do you have it?”

[sailorsenshishitposter]

Getou Suguru x Reader

Suguru Getou:

You have a superiority complex, you're a massive germaphobe and have a soft spot for poor, abused children.

First Date:

You couldn't believe it. You had a date. Not just any date though. One with the hot guy that was a shaman. He was also a cult leader but you were willing to let that slide due to how attractive you found him. The two of you met on PlentyOfSorcerers.com and you hoped that you weren't getting cat fished again. "If he's as good as he looks than I'll let him expand my domain!" You waited for your date just outside your restaurant of choice. "He should be here any minute."

You were wearing casual clothing. The two of you had agreed that it would be better to dress like average people. You didn't want your dates monk attire to attract any unnecessary attention after all. You were looking through the crowd when you felt someone pat you on the back. "Yo ####. You look wonderful." It was Getou. His long hair was memorizing but you gazed down and couldn't help but notice the shirt that he wore.

It was a plain black t-shirt except for the fact that there was a large image of a dragon ball character. Freezer you think? Anyway it was something about an alien committing genocide against monkeys. You were dumbfounded. "... I thought we agreed to dress casual..." He rolled his eyes. "Hey, he's my idol." Geto than questioned where he was taking you. "Why KFC of course."

You noticed his face starting to go pale. "Is something wrong?" He quickly shook his head. "It used to bring me painful memories. But that's all right because now I have you." You couldn't help but smile. You took his hand and walked towards your destination.

The place was packed. Getou groaned. "Why must there be so many monkeys!" He then glanced in your direction. "####, why don't you find us somewhere to sit while I go and order..." He looked tense. He must not enjoy crowds you thought. You kissed him on the cheek and then went to find a place to sit.

Getou then took out his disinfectant and began to spray everyone in line while he made his way to the front. The patrons were choking and gasping for air but who cares about monkeys right? He went to order when he nearly had a heart attack. He recognized the man behind the register. It was none other than Toji Fushiguro. "WHY ARE YOU STILL ALIVE!?"

The man was used to angry customers so this wasn't anything special but then he looked up at the the patron in front of him. "Oh? I didn't expect to see you here. Anyway, I owe some gambling debt to Gege so he was kind enough to let me work here and pay it off. I have to support my son after all!" Getou spat at him. "You're a terrible father and you know it!"

"Hmpf. Maybe. But at least I actually fathered my children. Now, what will you be ordering today?"

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

Getou returned and dropped the tray on the table. "Is everything okay...?" He couldn't wait to leave this place. "It's nothing. Go on, eat!" The two of you ate your food and you noticed that Getou looked somewhat sick. His face was now a shade of green. He decided to answer before you questioned him. "This food tastes worse than curses do!""... And what do curses taste like?"

He then responded "It’s like swallowing a dirty rag that’s been used to clean up shit and vomit." Oh. Well you were definitely letting him pick the place next time. If there would be a next time... It was then that you noticed two small children. "Daddy, daddy! We want crepes!" Getou sighed. "Girls, I thought I told you to wait until I came back home..." Your eye twitched."

Your dating profile didn't say anything about having kids..." He knew he had forgotten something. "Surprise...?" You stood up to leave. "I think we should see other people." He then began to sob into the table. The two girls then hugged their father and asked what was wrong. "I miss my wife (Gojo) girls. I miss her a lot."

[nrilliree]

TG don't waste a moment before condemning Viserys in Alicent's case without understanding the complexity of that situation. Yes, Alicent didn't enjoy bedding Viserys and he was in a position of power over her. Still, his personality - as depicted on the show - was reasonable enough in most cases and he was not a wilfully cruel man most of the time.

He had made it abundantly clear that he was marrying for more children, not unlike any other man of his era. He picked Alicent because he believed she was interested in him. What else was he supposed to do once they were married, if she never attempted to communicate her feelings with him? Read her mind?

We have also been shown that he respected Alicent's opinion enough to take her advice on important matters and, even after he realised that his marriage was an outcome of Otto's machinations, he didn't take it out on Alicent and, post time skip, she wielded greater power in court. She could openly override his wishes ( Jace/Helaena) and rule in his stead.

It won't be far fetched to say that had Show Alicent opened up to Show Viserys, if not to Rhaenyra, before marriage during their meetings, about how she was being pressurized by her father to visit him then he might have put a stop to all that and even helped her get out of Otto's grasp by arranging a suitable marriage for her. I'm not getting into Book Viserys and Alicent because they were different characters with a different relationship.

Aegon, on the other hand, raped Dyana, Helaena and God knows how many others. He has displayed a lack of consideration and reason more than once. He is the one who has no control over his cruelty for what else can explain the child fighting rings? Yet, it's he whose crimes get excused and even justified through the most absurd mental gymnastics.

I try to take it logically and I came to my conclusions this way:

Alicent: lied to him, declared war on his daughter at the royal wedding, spread deadly rumors about the birth of his grandchildren, broke royal laws, planned usurpation, attempted a coup, attacked his heiress with a knife, publicly questioned the king's authority, showed him disrespect as a husband and, above all, as a king. Viserys: He didn't do anything.

But at the very moment when she told him that "husband, I don't want to go to bed with you tonight", would he turn out to be an assertive, brutal man who would not tolerate disrespect, and would resort to violence, forcing her by force? Maybe I'm wrong, but Viserys didn't seem like that type of person and his entire characterization in the series wouldn't be consistent with that. He was a lousy husband, but not a brutal one. There is no indication that he was brutal or violent, and the only times he reacted this way were: it was about Daemon, it was about Daemon again. He never reacted in an aggressive or brutal manner towards Alicent, even when she disobeyed his orders, stole his knife, and attacked his daughter in public. He tried to avoid any clashes and problems so much that he created new ones, but not like this.

Seriously, HotD added so many negative traits to him that he didn't have in the book that TGs don't need to add new ones. They won't justify Aegon anyway by making Viserys a brutal rapist without conscience or respect.

[sescoups]

Joshua + breeding kink thoughts

pairing: joshua x f!reader

wc: 555

a/n: tbh I never know wtf is going on in my brain when I write these. I just thought about shua and my brain went "HORNY" so. here you go.

masterlist

18+ mdni!!! smut warnings under the cut <3

warnings: pure filth, breeding kink, cum mention, fingering (f. rec), absolutely disgusting fluff, pregnancy mention, pregnancy kink, lmk if i missed anything

Telling Joshua that he doesn’t need to wear a condom would make him go absolutely feral, and you can’t change my mind. Like this man definitely has a breeding kink, and even if you’re on birth control, he wouldn’t be able to stop himself from absolutely destroying you.

As soon as he feels your warm, wet walls around his bare dick? It’s over for him. He is fucking into you with reckless abandon, so fast you can barely breathe, but he can’t stop himself. He can’t stop thinking about filling you up, about making you his in a way that is so primal, so filthy, something that no one else will ever be allowed to do.

It really doesn’t help if you talk to him throughout it all. If you remind him that he is going to be filling you up without a barrier even once, he’s done for. Say something, anything at all, about him being the father of your future children? He’s cumming early, and he can’t even feel sorry about it.

And really, it doesn’t even matter, because he will somehow be hard again one minute later, ready to fuck you and fill you up all over again. Trust and believe, you would not be allowed to breathe for a single second, this man would be staking his claim on you while driving any and all thoughts out of your pretty little head.

The worst part is how fucking sweet he would be about it all. Like he would be calling you his pretty girl, his perfect baby, his beautiful darling, the love of his life. He would be whispering how much he loves you, sprinkled with the filthiest shit you’ve ever heard in your life the entire time.

He’d never really be done, either; as soon as he pulls out and sees his release dripping from your puffy pussy, he would be going feral again. If he isn’t ready to fuck you just yet, he’s using his fingers to fuck it all back into you, whispering about how you can’t waste a single drop, how you need to be sure it will take.

And afterwards? He gives the best aftercare. He would apologize profusely for being so rough before pressing kisses all over your body and face while whispering about how much he loves you. And after you’re all cleaned up and cuddling in bed, he would be telling you about how he can’t wait to, one day, when you’re both ready for it, see you round and pregnant with his children, how he wants to be the best dad and partner for you.

Please he would be so excited, he would be writing out lists of baby names on his phone and asking you the weirdest questions about your future.

“Babe, do you think we should teach the baby both English and Korean from the beginning?”

“Do you think the first one will be a girl, or the second one?”

“I wonder what weird cravings you’re going to have. I will get all of them for you, of course.”

And then he would promptly turn you over and start playing with your poor pussy again, because the thought of you pregnant with his child makes his soul shine brighter than the fucking sun and he needs an outlet for that.

a/n: if you enjoyed this post, please remember to like and reblog! <3

[habibi-bambi]

Father of Humanity (Adam Headcanons)

My Adam Headcanons... This is a scenario that just went through my head whilst cleaning, and this will most likely feature in the Fall of The First Man fic in the future (will contain teensy spoilers). (In which Alastor tries to return the humiliating beatdown Adam gave him in Episode 8 of the show during a 'trust, bonding and open forum' excercises in Hazbin Hotel because Adam Falls/is now a sinner (still not sure which, just that Adam will fall from heaven). Adam shows that despite Lucifer easily beating him up and almost killing him, he wasn't some weakling nobody that some low life sinner like Alastor could just push around. Adam shows to everybody that being the First Man and the Father of Humanity is NOT an empty title.) "Hannibal Lecter." Alastor tilts his head "What?" Adam points at Alastor "You basically are a second rate rip off of Hannibal Lecter. Although unlike that dude, your pathetic." Alastor sighed, legs crossing as he leaned back on the chair. "I don't know the details, but I do know that this, Hannibal, is a fictional character that appeared in 1999. I would be the original serial killing cannibal. Your attempts to insult me are not only pathetic but also unoriginal-" Adam interrupts him "Don't interrupt me, freakshow. We have our turns, and as the Princess of Hell decreed, this is my fucking turn." Charlie nervously scratched her cheek. This was another failed attempt of bond excercise with Adam around. The others are all uncomfortable and cold, if not outright hostile to Adam except for Charlie and her Dad. The others all took their shot to insult Adam in their turns, and now Alastor was the worst. Honestly, Charlie could understand them and couldn't begrudge them for their feelings because Adam was still Adam, and despite his change of heart about the exterminations, he still was such an asshole and didn't seem to change that much that Charlie almost questions if he really had a change of heart.

"That's- that's right, Alastor. You had your turn earlier, now let Adam have his." Charlie looked at Adam, who was for the first time in weeks, pissed off. Adam, to his credit, brushed off the others outright hostile and unwelcoming behavior towards him and was apathetic. It was her Dad whom he would have an argument and be pissed off at, but even then, her Dad was... strangely welcoming to Adam, in his own sadistic, mischievious way with how much he keeps wanting to piss off Adam but still want to be around him.

Charlie thinks that Alastor finally got to him, and all the others who had smirks and grins and snickering and especially Alastor who was giving his razor sharp smile, was delighted by it. Charlie hopes this wont end in a fight. "First, let's get one thing clear." Adam leaned back, lazy and comfortable, despite the bright bright burning gold of his eyes glaring down at Alastor "This is me NOT insulting you. This is me speaking facts. This is me enlightening you WHY you will always be the scum, the bottom feeder of my shoes, the ugliest stain of humanity, and a cockroach in my eyes."

"Alastor and Hannibal. The similarities? Both of you were serial killing cannibals who thought themselves above others and were stupidly entitled they thought they had the RIGHT to take others lives because of it." Alastor piped in, pointing out the hypocrisy "Isn't that what you did with the exterminations? Slaughtering so many because you thought you could?" Adam raised an eyebrow "There's a fucking big difference between us, shitface. I am the First Man, of Divine Ordainment of the Heaven, and it was Heaven who wanted exterminations to happen and it was FOR Heaven that exterminations happened while your a stinky filthy ugly sinner who DESERVE to rot in hell-" Everybody rolled their eyes at this and bristled at the asshole arrogance of seeping through once again "The extermination is a job. My duty. You? What's your excuse, oh-second-rate-Hannibal?"

Then Adam leaned onto the table, elbows on it and hands loosely held together. There was a glow in his eyes as he stared at Alastor. "You know what makes Hannibal better than you? He had a worse villain origin than you and STILL was the better evil between the two of you."

Adam smile was wicked and sharp "Again, the similarities. Both of you were serial killing cannibals. In your childhood, he only had his precious little sister, and you only had your dear sweet mother-" Alastor froze, radio crackling sharp it hurt to the ears for a moment as Adam continued on "Hannibal and his little sister were only little starving kiddies trying to survive a war, and then some assholes came by and kidnapped them, and decided to make a meal out of his sister. Right in front of Hannibal, they murdered and butchered and cooked his baby sister into a soup so they could eat. And you know what they also did? They forced Hannibal to eat her, because they pitied her! So in return of that 'kindness', little shit took revenge and killed them, and ate them!" Alastor eyebrows twitched.

"What does this have to do with me?" He sneered "The story in question is a that of a mere fictional character. You make no sense at all." Adam laughter had come to a stop suddenly, and suddenly he was standing, looming over Alastor with his hands on the table, casting a big shadow on the radiodemon.

Gold burning eyes and a unamused cold look on that face.

"What it has to do with you? You had the better story. A better childhood. A good fucking parent. You didn't have a little sister you had to take care of and be responsible of. You had a fucking sweet mother who loved you to bits." Adam said, his broken halo crackling with his fury "You had the better villain origin. Your bastard father killed her, and so you killed him. But you didn't have to eat him. Just like you didn't have to eat your other victims."

Adam's wings snapped open. Everybody, including Charlie were frozen in absolutely fear as holy power and Adam's aura grew like a forest fire, making them unable to move and slowly suffocate.

Her dad, where was Charlie's dad?!

Alastor though snarled at the mention of his mother though "Don't mention her, you don't know her, you don't know anything at all-" "Alastor Hartfelt." Adam spoke, voice echoing the room "Son of Mrs. Helen Hartfelt. Hannibal Fucking Lecter had the excuse of trauma and the horrors of what happened to his sister to turn to cannibalism. His psychopathy and number of victims in his ledger were all killed in ways just like yours, for artistry and for the satisfaction of sadism, and in a way, and all that stupid jazz. What about you? Is it because your dear old 'pops' used to beat you up every weekends?" Alastor radio screeched "Or is it because it was your dear old mommy who took the weekdays beating for you?" And then it was silenced, Alastor stared at Adam with wide eyes, fear and shock. He was all stiff and frozen, he wanted to run, but the loook in Adam's eyes, the gold burning eyes, Alastor could not move. He fucking felt like the deer he really was. Frozen in fear. Adam hummed "Could be, could be. It's understandable. Scum sinners like Alan Hartfelt truly deserved Erasure. But here's the thing-

Hannibal Lecter is fucking fictional, but still has the better excuse than you do. Tell me, Radiodemon. Why is it you have more numbers in your ledger of 28 years on Earth than Hannibal Lecter's 48 years of living?" There was not a sound from everyone at Adam's words.

Adam withdrew and sat back. With that, he folded his wings, his halo and aura returned to normal, and he wasn't fucking suffocating others with anything anymore. Vaggie clutched her spear. The others were all pale and sweaty and fearful and wary.

"Redemption is proven possible thanks to prissy princess here. But don't get me wrong, there's a fucking reason why sinners are sinners. Why souls are condemned to hell." His eyes flickered to the others.

There, they finally felt it what must have Alastor on edge.

They fucking felt as if their souls were there for Adam to see.

"Anthony Genovese." Angel Dust flinched, Husk was hissing and snarling protectively, fur all bristled "Don't worry, unlike this antlered freak, I won't tell anything that I've seen in your life. Just know this. Solve that little soul contract issue you have going on, and fix yourself up, try harder in turning your life around. In this hotel, your are the one who is the closest thing to being the next redeemed soul, that is, if you and princess here have figured out how to do that without fucking dying by my hands."

Adam crossed his arms "You have someone waiting for you up there. A spider winner who looks like you, white and pink. But wings and halo and that shit. Molly's her name."

Angel Dust stood up, eyes wide in hope "S-she is?"

Adam nodded "The reason why exterminations were kept a secret by higher ups is to avoid winners, human souls in heaven, to be upset. Family is family, love is love, and all that shit. That snake weirdo in Heaven is now reunited with his wife and son. If you ascend to heaven, you would be another fuck you to Sera and the seraphim, the final nail to the coffin of the end of exterminations. You and that friend of yours will be the hope of your princess, and the winners in heaven to be reunited to their family. That is, if you work hard and stop fucking around. How, don't ask me. I'm just here to oversee the hotel, and what I have done is already enough." Adam got up to leave.

Angel Dust didn't say anything, but there was hope in his eyes. Hope that was also in Charlie's eyes.

"Oh, oh Adam! Thank you!" Joy was in Charlie's eyes, she was happy with Adam's admission about Angel. This, she was sure was Adam's honest admission. No fucking around. Her heart swelled in joy. She always knew that he could do it. That they all could do it! They just needed time and faith!

Adam grumbled "Don't thank me. It's just me telling you an observation."

Charlie glanced at others, who were still wary, but were surprised and happy for Angel. But she glanced at Alastor, her enthusiasm died a little bit, and remembered that despite Adam's Fall, he was still very much powerful...

"But um, Adam that was not, very nice of you to do that for Alastor-" Adam snort "That lanky prick has been nipping at my heels for weeks, he got what was coming for him."

Charlie wanted to admonish Adam more and have him apologize to Alastor, but at the look in his eyes, she remembered the oppressive suffocating fury he had earlier and decided to let it go. Adam did mind the rules, he didn't start the fight. Alastor did and even then, Adam hadn't really harmed a single hair.

"So, uh. I appreciate your uhm, encouraging words. Even though I've been nothing but shitty to you-" Adam waved away Angel's sheepish but heartfelt apology and appreciation. "Don't mention it. Seriously, don't." Angel continued "So uh, how did you do, uhm, what you did earlier? Is that what powerful angels do?"

"Oh, that." Adam kicked his chair back into the table and dusted himself off "That's just me alone. No one could do that. Not even Lucifer. The closest thing would be the Hell Book in Lucifer's hands, that tells the very sin and reason of how sinners are condemned to hell. Oh, not just me. God could do that to too, very easily. But he's not around, so it's just me. It's a perk of being the Father of Humanity, of being the First Man."

Adam let out an aggravated sigh "It's why I was very insistent on wearing the exorcists mask. One look at every human soul, I could see everything in them. Their whole lives, in just an instant. It's pretty fucking annoying."

Alastor gritted his teeth. Still standing tall, but when Adam turned around, and stared at Alastor with his golden eyes again. Alastor stiffened, baring his teeth and his ears pinned back.

"But it's useful every now and then." Adam says, but there was no look of gleeful satisfaction. Of malicious enjoyment at another humiliation of Alastor from his hands. At how Alastor seethed in hatred and anger, but also was stiff and frozen in absolute fear.

"Charlie."

The Princess of Hell perked up, it's the first time the man had addressed her by name instead of any nicknames, gross or insulting or annoying.

"I don't know what that guy is doing at this hotel, but there's no way he's here for redemption. He doesn't care, and even if he did, he'll never be redeemed. Zero chance in hell."

Charlie looked at him, upset.

"I'm serious. I'm not insulting you. You already proved that redemption of sinners is fucking legit already, and I believe it and I can see its possible with the pornstar here. But this guy?" Adam scoffed "No fucking way in hell. Not all sinners can redeem themselves, and not all sinners are deserving of the chance of redemption."

Adam gives a sneer and a disdainful look at Alastor.

"That guy is the kind of sinner that deserves to get permanently erased from existence by the extermination. And good fucking riddance." Adam's next words pierced through Alastor's heart.

"Because if his mother ever were to see him, she would fucking weep."

Alastor felt his knees buckle from no outside pressure and fell to the ground, staring at the floor, feeling numb.

"Alastor!"

Adam didn't give a shit if the deerfucker fell to the ground and started sobbing, but the all red asshole really did look pathetic on the ground.

Without a smile on his face, and looking like he's about to have a panic attack right then and there.

Charlie glared at Adam, upset and angry, wanting him to take his words back. The others all rushed to the radiodemon, except for Husk who was looking at Alastor with an inscrutable look in his eyes. Alastor was swallowed by his shadow, and disappeared into the room.

"I'm not saying sorry. And shut your mouth Vagasaurus," Adam said as he put his finger on Vaggie's spear and moved it away from his face "Even you with your one eye can clearly see that I said nothing but the truth."

"Dude, that was uncalled for."

Adam shrugged "Truth hurts."

"Adam, you were unnecessarily cruel!" Charlie said, not budging.

"And you are stupidly naive." Adam was annoyed. The little bitch was the spoilt naive pampered princess who was sheltered by her asshole parents "Listen here, Charlotte Morningstar. I get that you care, like a LOT, but atleast be a realistic bitch! Your lil'gf and your dad can't keep pampering you and sheltering you. Your the goddamn Princess of Hell. Stop with the sunshine and rainbows, and actually THINK!"

Charlie eyes started getting teary, hurt but still remained firm in her stubbornness.

Adam sighs. Calm the fuck down, dude. Don't lose your temper at a kid. At Lucifer and Lilith's stupid kid, the spoilt pampered grown kid. Chill the fuck down or else your gonna get fucked up and thrown across all rings of Hell by her stupid dad.

"Take this seriously. If you keep up that naive idealistic rainbow mindset you have, not only are you gonna gett laughed by the entirety of Hell, you'll have Heaven looking down at you and not taking you seriously." Adam says "I'm not joking. Lucifer has no power to back you up against the High Council in Heaven."

Adam finally turned around and left for his room.

When he took a left, a direction to where his room was in, he was not surprised to see fucking Lucifer being the snake eavesdropping spy he always was.

"Not gonna throw a punch at me for hurting your daughter's feelings?"

Lucifer sighed, looking defeated "You said nothing but the truth." And then he shot a glare at Adam "You were being unnecessarily harsh to her though." Adam was not surprised that he gave zero shits about the deerfucker.

"Your daughter is a century plus old. She's a big fucking girl. She can take it." Adam said gruffly, unimpressed and then scrunched his nose at Lucifer "What kind of parenting did you and Lilith did to her? You guys were massive assholes-" "Hey!" "but you guys were confident. Arrogant and entitled, actually. Your kid? Your kid is a century old but has the self-esteem of a poor imp with a deadbeat dad and a abusive mother."

Adam shook his wave "Nevermind, don't answer. I don't care really. Just go in there and fix your kid, give her the fucking truth about how the real word works and how she needs to pull it together. Heaven is not gonna cut her any slack, Lucifer. You should have knowm that more than anyone else."

Lucifer released a deep sigh, and ran his hair back.

"I fucking know, Adam..." There was a troubled look in his eyes "It's just hard... There's... I don't know where to start..."

Adam sneered, no pity party and sympathy for the deadbeat dad that was the Devil.

"Why don't you start small and in the beginning, starting with Eden, and how that actually went down. Hm?" Lucifer flinched, a guilty look in his eyes.

"Adam, I'm- I'm sorry for that..." he said as he cringed,

"I saw that little book, and it seems that its spread all over in Hell. Even on some places on Earth. But I didn't mind it. Propaganda is also a thing in heaven." Adam gold eyes burned as he stared down at Lucifer "But I'm fucking confused why the hell is your pampered spoilt rotten grown kid still fucking believes that shitty propaganda of a fairytale is an actual thing that happened. Care to explain, L u c i ?"

"Adam, I'm sorry. We, I, I didn't mean to-" Lucifer stumbled over his words, unable to find the right fucking words, and reached out to Adam.

Who slapped his hand away.

"Save it." Adam said "Just go talk to your kid. Be an actual parent. And just mind your own business. Stop bothering me. I don't need your pathetic excuses. It's not going to change the past. Your fucking sins. Your fucking mistakes. All that you did. All that happened to me. Everything is all settled and done." He steeled himself, and fucking took a breather.

Lucifer eyes were full of guilt and regret and shame. Adam had had enough of it. He wished he could pluck them off.

"Adam, please. Hear me out. Let, let me explain myself-" "Didn't you hear me? The dust has fucking settled, Lucifer. Nothing can change the past. So fucking let go of it. And focus on the present and on the future, on your daughter. For fucks sake." Adam cursed, backing away from Lucifer who was still reaching for him, looking at him with those red red fucking red eyes full of regret and longing- "Just. Just do what you gotta do. I'm just here to see how your daughter is doing in redeeming souls and making sure she succeeds to say fuck you to Sera and the other angel assholes upstairs."

Adam closed his eyes "And if that happens, maybe, just maybe God will finally fucking forgive me and give me peace." Lucifer stiffened at Adam's words. His face graying at Adam's words, a reminder of Adam's wish and motivations for helping his daughter succeed. It made Lucifer remember the aftermath of the extermination battle those weeks ago... The look of horror and fury. The desperation in Adam's voice. Of God answering Adam from where the fuck he is. Of Adam's eyes, full of despair and emptiness. Lucifer held himself, his claws digging into his flesh. His He wanted to say something, but he couldn't find the right fucking word. In the end, he said nothing. He did nothing. All he could do was watch as Adam left and headed towards his room.

Lucifer tried to swallow the stifled feeling in his throat. Tried to soothe the stifling ache in his heart. Lucifer... Lucifer didn't Adam to go.

[faeriescorpio]

Which Spy & Scout role swap is more interesting?

Class-swap or Age-swap

Class-swap: Spy is the Scout. Jeremy is the Spy. Jeremy doesn’t do so much of the blackmailing part of being a Spy as much as he uses the Sappers and watches and tech and such. Spy is still nosy and he knows Jeremy is his son. Jeremy being the Spy probably knows (canon)Spy slept with his mom but not that they’re related. (Canon)Spy is the world’s quietest Scout. He tries so hard to make a baseball bat look classy. Jeremy is the type of guy who researches at what length a knife is a sword and gets like a 12 inch knife and swings it around. He’s efficient, not elegant. (Canon)Spy despairs over his son being the spy. Man I need to have my own head-canon for Spy’s real name or this is going to get really confusing

Age-Swap: Jeremy always wanted a big family. He marries a woman who has 7 sons. But he’s immature even at 35 years old, and he tells her all about how dangerous his work is with no thought of how it might affect her and her family. So when the woman finds out she’s pregnant with her 8th son, she divorces Jeremy. He still calls her every weekend and devotes most of his paycheck to her. But when he calls she never tells him about her youngest child so Jeremy thinks she only has 7 sons. He’s the Scout, he’s not known for his brains. He does believe in the Waiting Game TM, which “always works, eventually” (I think I’m quoting comic 4). Anyway he gets a job with RED which includes a rather young Spy. Spy being Spy knows that Jeremy is his father but Scout is oblivious. Because if Scout knows then Spy would know because Scout can’t keep a secret to save his life. Spy does everything he can to keep Jeremy from knowing. This does change their dynamic as Scout doesn’t go to Spy for advice, Spy is both more and less aggressive to Scout because he can’t believe his father is an idiot but also is it Scout’s fault that he wasn’t there if Spy’s mother divorced him and didn’t tell Jeremy about Spy? Meanwhile Spy being younger than Scout means Scout’s a little nicer to Spy because Scout’s the kind of person who’s like “you’re younger than me therefore I’m better than you” so he doesn’t take Spy snapping at him as seriously. Why doesn’t Spy tell Scout? It was never in question that Scout wouldn’t love having a son. Heck he won’t stop talking about his ex-wife that he still calls (and she still picks up and talks to him so clearly something is going on there) and his 7 adopted kids. Spy is just… afraid. However if Naked and the Dead happened in this AU Spy can’t pretend to be Tom Jones because Scout would be like “???????” so they’d be forced to have a more real conversation. I don’t think Scout would say he’s proud of Spy, I think he would just say he loves Spy. Because having his father be proud of him is something that matters more to Scout than it would to Spy. Also Scout knows French to impress the ladies and this is one of the few things Spy knows about his dad before joining RED so he learned French in high school. He would not have a Boston accent he would think it’s not classy. He definitely studied abroad in France.

Is this anything

[becca-alexa]

Ride the Lightning

Chapter Five: School Daze

Read on AO3!

01 ┋ 02 ┋ 03 ┋ 04 ┋ 05 ┋ 06 ┋ 07 ┋ 08 ┋ 09 ┋ 10 ┋ 11 ┋ 12 ┋ 13

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Original Female Character

Summary: Eddie's begun to notice... something in Veronica that he's never felt before - what will he do?

Word Count: 4.4K

Content Warnings: [N/A]

Author's Note: yes🦇for🦇characters🦇realizing🦇their🦇feelings🦇i🦇live🦇for🦇oblivious🦇to🦇not🦇oblivious🦇romance

otherworldly thank you to @rollforhellfire for reading this -- your comments literally keep me going <333

    The heels of Veronica’s patent-leather Mary Janes echoed through the halls of Hawkins High, the droves of students seeming to part way as she moved about them with purpose - she clearly had somewhere to be, someone to speak to. Brushing back one of her braids, she rounded a corner, descended a flight of stairs, her pace quickening as the double-doors of the lunchroom fell within sight. And, tugging at the strap of her bag, she pushed her way inside.

    The lunchroom was bustling, as it always was at that time of day, tens upon dozens of students all eager to find something edible among the lunch slop. Looking across the room, she spotted her target - the raucous Hellfire table.

    “You can’t cast fireball for every move, dude.” Lucas said, stuffing a forkful of lettuce into his mouth, pointing the plastic thing at Dustin, who was cautiously flipping open what he’d been told was a turkey burger. “Think of something else.”

    Dustin scoffed at him, setting his lunch aside in lieu of a carton of chocolate milk. “What, like you have a better idea on how to beat the Drolem?” Looking beside him, he turned to Will for confirmation, and the boy nodded, midway through chewing his tuna sandwich. “See? Fireball’s our best option here.”

    “Might I suggest you rethink your strategy, my little sheep?” Eddie’s voice, clear and carrying across the table, silenced the chatter of the youngest among them, and his smile sent a chill coursing through their spines. “Need I remind you that the Drolem is part-dragon?”

    “Damn!” Dustin huffed, head falling into his upturned palms. “How could I forget?”

    “Told you.” Lucas said with a scoff, shoving a straw into his juice cup. “What we need to do is… uh…” His voice trailed off, eyes widening as he caught sight of a vision of… pink? He nudged Jeff at his side, who was equally - if not more - surprised to see Veronica Windsor at their table, arms crossed over her chest; she gave them all a little wave, her smile shy as she turned to face Eddie.

    “Lost your voice, Sinclair?” Eddie asked, his words trailing off into a chuckle as he shoved a handful of pretzels into his mouth, unaware of the table staring behind him. “Pity. You were getting so close-”

    “Munson.”

    Eddie choked on his pretzels, swallowing what he could, the rest sticking to the inside of his mouth as he all but coughed up his lungs, Gareth slamming his fist against his back to keep him breathing. Face aflame - and only partially so from nearly having lost his life to the snack - Eddie twisted around in his chair, eyes narrowed at Veronica, face set in a scowl.

    “Can I help you, Windsor?” he croaked, voice rough as he blinked away the tears blurring his vision. She reached for the back of his chair, pulling it out with more force than he’d expected.

    “Get up.” she said, emerald eyes sparkling as they bore into his, making him much too uncomfortable in front of his many admirers. “We need to talk.”

    Without another word, Eddie followed Veronica away from the chaos, the mass of students gathered outside having already dissipated, leaving them alone in the hallway. Eddie waited for her to speak, his hands shoved into his pockets for lack of a better place, and he rocked back and forth on his heels as he watched her dig through her bag.

    “So… uh… What’d you want to talk about?” he finally asked, trying to peek at what she was looking for, surprised when she pulled out a… a packet? And a heavy-looking one at that, he noted, confused when she handed it to him.

    “Midterms are in two weeks.” she began, voice clear. “And you will be passing all of them.”

    “O… kay?” He turned over the weighty packet in his hand, flipping through its pages. “And this is supposed to help me?”

    “This is all of the material that’ll be covered on the tests.” she explained, poking a finger at one of the pages. “I spent the week putting it together, so that we know what to focus on.”

    “Hold on, you… you made this?” Flipping through the packet again, he suddenly realized that all of the pages were handwritten, her penmanship impeccable, all of the problems clearly explained in the way she’d since learned he’d understand best. “Windsor, I-”

    She didn’t let him finish. “Until midterms start, we’ll need to spend our lunches going over this.”

    And he gaped at her, unsure he’d heard her correctly. “We need to eat… together?” he asked, brows furrowing together as she nodded, braids swaying with the movement. “Really?”

    “You want to get through that thing by yourself?” she asked, her voice as flat as it was blunt, and she bit back a smile as Eddie conceded with a drop of his shoulders.

    “Right.” His words trailed out on a sigh, and he rubbed at his forehead, willing away the headache he could feel brewing behind his eyes. “You’re… You’re right, as always.”

    “Look, Munson,” Veronica said, her voice soft. “You can do this, okay? This is all stuff you already know. We’re just… reinforcing it.” Her hand moved, hovered over his arm as if to give him a comforting pat, but it fell back to her side, the movement somewhat awkward. “Meet me at the library starting tomorrow.” she added, and gave him a smile as she walked back toward the lunchroom. “And don’t be late! The more time we get with this, the better!”

    Eddie gave her a weak excuse of a wave; after she’d crossed the double-doors, he fell back against the wall, hands dragging over his face, cheeks burning as he tried to collect himself enough to return to his table.

    If any of them noticed how utterly red Eddie was, they were wise enough not to mention it.

    “Christ, Windsor, can we take a break?” Eddie groaned, head falling to the wooden library table, his hair fluttering around him as it settled about his shoulders. “My brain’s melting out my eyeballs.”

    They’d been at it a week, their extra studying sessions. Everyday, they’d meet in the library to pour over the material, working through each of the questions several times over in order to ensure that he’d retain the information - and all of this on top of his daily tutoring. He doesn't understand why she’s putting in the extra effort, but he appreciates it nonetheless; he tries not to read too closely into the way her voice gentles when she’s explaining something to him, or how she’d take the time to go over a particular problem ad infinitum whenever he’d get confused. He tries to stay focused - Lord knows he does - but somewhere between Calculus and U.S. History II, his mind began to wander.

    Seated as close as they were, Eddie leaned his arm against the tabletop, head resting on his hand, eyes scanning the page Veronica was reviewing with him. He followed the path of her manicured finger along the lines of text, enthralled by how the light caught on the pastel yellow polish. Her hands, so small compared to his, were bare; he wondered absentmindedly if he should get her a ring, just to fill the empty spaces, the implications of such a gift lost on him. He tried to focus on the material, but how could he, when her voice sounded so sweet? So honeyed? Had it always sounded like that? Eddie shook his head, biting the inside of his mouth, forcing his thoughts back to the topic at hand.

    As she continued onto some Godforsaken equation, Eddie’s gaze moved to her head, trailing over her inky hair; she’d only braided a single today, just like she’d done on Halloween, the thing as glossy as it was thick, hanging over her shoulder and tied at the end with a ribbon in a color matching her blouse. How would it feel between his fingers, he wondered? Would she let him touch it, if he asked? Hell, he’d let her touch his hair any day-

    “Munson?” Veronica asked, her voice breaking through the pleasant haze of his thoughts. “Are you listening?”

    Obviously not, his mind blared. “Sorry, I… I think I zoned out for a second.” he admitted, rubbing at the back of his neck, a chuckle bubbling up from his chest as she shook her head, flipping back to the start of the section they’d been reviewing, beginning again in the same mellow tone of voice that had him bewitched; she’d only gotten through the first few sentences before she leaned back in her chair with a sigh, flipping the packet shut.

    “You’re not paying attention.” Fearing he’d upset her, he reached for the thing, flipping through it, searching for the page they’d been working from.

    “No, I-I am, I promise-”

    She’d reached for his hand, her touch warm against the chill of his rings, and Eddie had to suppress the shudder radiating at the base of his spine from the sudden contact. “We’ve covered enough for today - just finish your lunch, alright?” She smiled at him, soft and inviting, and he finally relaxed into his seat, prying open his metal lunch box and pulling out his usual baggie of pretzels.

    “Want some?” he offered, holding out the plastic thing toward her, biting back his grin as she took a few, popping them into her mouth, offering him bits of her own lunch in exchange - and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d had such a… memorable day at school, sharing a meal with her, the conversation between them easy, their shoulders all but touching as they whispered to each other to keep from being shushed by the librarian. 

    They’d been going through it for hours, sitting on Eddie’s bed, pouring over what they had left of the packet, reviewing the material they’d already gone through. It was the night before the first of many midterms, and Eddie’s panic was palpable, with Veronica left to try and keep him calm enough to remember how hard he’d been working, reassuring him that he was more than prepared to take the test - Calculus, for Monday.

    Outside, they could hear Wayne shuffling about, mindful of how loud he’d set the television as not to interrupt their studying; when Veronica had first appeared at their door, he’d been surprised, sympathetic to his nephew’s academic situation, even a bit confused as to why she had agreed to take him on - from Eddie's grumblings, he'd been well aware of who she was. Now, he considered her as much a part of his family as his own flesh and blood. Hell, he’d even gotten her a mug to use whenever she was over. Setting a tray of pizza rolls into the oven, he sank back onto the couch, beer in hand as he watched the week’s baseball game, the soft echo of Eddie’s music fading into the background.

    “Did you remember to follow the order of operations?” Veronica asked, passing back Eddie’s scribble-heavy notebook, moving closer beside him to point out the equation he’d been trying to solve. “Here, you left out the exponent. Do that first, then solve the rest.” Taking it back, he wracked his mind for an answer, used his fingers to count, scratched what was left of his eraser over the page, not realizing his tongue had been poking out from between pressed lips all the while.

    “Like this?” he asked, voice hesitant as he passed the notebook back to her, tapping his pencil against his knee as she checked over his work, and his shoulders fell in relief at her smile.

    “Good job, Munson.” The look on her face, warm and gentle and proud, nearly turned his stomach to mush. “See? You got this.”

    He dragged a hand through his hair, cheeks flushed at her praise. “I just hope you’re right, sweetheart-”

    “Ed!” Wayne shouted from the living room. “Oven’s goin’ off!”

    "Be right back…!" Eddie jumped off the bed, shuffling down the hall toward the kitchen, and dug through the cabinets in search of mitts.

    “Everything alright in there?” Wayne called out from the couch, turning to look at his nephew over the back of the couch. “Brain’s not melted yet, is it?”

    “Everything’s hunky-dory, Dad.” he replied, pulling the tray out of the oven; his body halted mid-motion, steaming rolls in hand as he shook his head - he couldn’t help but smile at the thought that Veronica’s… unusual language was finally rubbing off on him. “We should be done soon, anyway.”

    “Y’ain’t lettin’ her take that bicycle home, are you?”

    Eddie let out an exaggerated gasp, mitted hands slamming against his chest. “And leave the delicate princess alone in the dead of night? How could I ever?”

    “Delicate, my ass.” Wayne mumbled to himself, satisfied with his nephew’s answer, taking another sip of his beer as he turned back toward the game.

    Setting the rolls onto a plate, Eddie made his way back to his bedroom, pushing open the door with his foot, not wanting to drop anything - but as he laid eyes on the bed, he paused, frozen under the open doorway.

    Veronica had fallen asleep.

    He set the plate atop his desk, his footsteps silent as he approached the bed, not wanting to wake her. She grumbled something, glasses digging into her skin as she pressed her face into his pillow, her body curled up, arms wrapped around herself for warmth. Without a second thought, he reached for his blanket, tugging it over her, ignoring the fuzziness settling in his chest at the sight of her snuggling so tightly to it, nearly disappearing beneath it. Carefully, slowly, he pulled off her glasses, frowning at the red marks they’d left behind, stopping only for a moment when she’d made a groan of protest before drifting away. He stepped back from the bed, unsure of what to do next; taking the pizza rolls with him, he left the room, quietly shutting the door behind him.

    “Somethin’ wrong with the rolls?” Wayne asked, catching Eddie sneaking the plate back into the kitchen, the food obviously untouched.

    Eddie shook his head, more than a bit dazed and confused. “No… uh… They’re fine, I think.”

    “You think?” Wayne lowered the sound on the television, turning to give his nephew his full attention, his eyebrow raised in question. “You didn’t try ‘em?”

    Again, Eddie shook his head, hands shoved into the pockets of his sweatpants. “Veronica’s not hungry.” he replied, his answer striking Wayne as uncharacteristic of her.

    “She alright?” asked the older man, shutting off the game altogether, rising from his spot on the couch.

    “S-She’s fine…!” Eddie stammered; Wayne didn’t believe him, doubly so when he’d tried walking down the hallway and was pulled back by the arm. “You don’t have to check on her.”

    “Eddie, what’s going on-”

    “She fell asleep.” His reply came so quickly, so hurriedly, that Wayne thought he’d misheard the boy.

    “She… fell asleep?”

    “In my bed.” Eddie clarified - as if his response needed clarifying.

    The older man let out a heavy sigh and dragged a hand over his bald patch, scratching at his scalp. “And did-”

    “I tucked her in.” he replied, pulling his hands from his pockets, nervously squeezing at the tips of his fingers.

    Wayne groaned, pinching at the bridge of his nose, his shoulders dropping in exhaustion. “Ed, I swear to God-”

    “What was I supposed to do?” Eddie hissed, mindful of the volume of his voice, his face already beginning to burn. “She fell asleep!”

    “Wake her up!” Wayne replied, waving his arm toward the closed door of his nephew’s bedroom.

    Eddie paled, shaking his head. “What? No, I can’t!”

    “Well, she can’t sleep here!” 

    “You wake her up, then!”

    “It’s your bed, son - and she sure as Hell ain’t been tutorin’ me.” Wayne shook his head, muttering something about young folk under his breath as he walked into the kitchen, setting a few of the rolls onto a plate for himself. “It’s getting late. Poor girl needs to go home.”

    Eddie’s head snapped between his uncle’s retreating back and the hallway; he knew the man was right, and was certain that her mother would be worried about her being out so late. Still, it took every ounce of his will to march himself down the hall. So, with his lip caught between his teeth, he slipped into his bedroom, shutting the door behind him.

    Oblivious to the debacle that had occurred mere feet away, Veronica was still sound asleep, Eddie’s blanket clutched beneath her chin, face buried into his pillow. He moved toward the edge of the bed, taking in a deep breath, steeling his nerves as he brought his hand to her shoulder, giving her the gentlest of shakes.

    “Hey, Veronica.” he whispered, taking a half-step toward her, not realizing he’d called her by her name. “Time to wake up, sweetheart.”

    She grumbled something he couldn’t understand, and her brows furrowed together as she moved beneath his blankets. “M-Munson…?”

    “Mornin’, starshine.” His voice was softer than satin, and filled with a tenderness he - at least for the time being - chose to ignore altogether. “Time to go home. It’s way past your bedtime.”

    “But, we didn’t finish…” Her words trailed off into a yawn, and she tried to rub the sleep from her eyes, shaking her head to keep from dozing off. “My glasses…?”

    “I think I’ll be fine.” He gave her a smile, which she returned with a tired one of her own. “And, here,” he added, grabbing the pair from atop his nightstand. “I took them off for you. Didn’t look too comfy sleeping with them on.” She nodded her thanks, quiet as she slipped them back onto her face, pushing them up the bridge of her nose.

    “How long was I…?”

    Eddie looked at his watch, and gave her a shrug. “Twenty minutes, maybe? It wasn’t too long, I think.”

    “Christ, Munson - why didn’t you wake me up?”

    And his response was simply, “You were tired.”

    With an obvious reluctance, she peeled herself away from the warmth of his bed, sliding on her shoes as she followed him out into the living room; she picked up her jacket, stuffed her things back into her bag, moving at a snail’s pace compared to her usual energy.

    “Be back soon,” Eddie told his uncle as they passed by the kitchen, reaching over the counter to give the man’s hand a swat to stop him from eating what was left of the rolls.

    “‘Night, Veronica.” he called out, giving her a fatherly smile, hand raised in a wave.

    Her yawned reply of, “G’night, Uncle Wayne…” prompted a shared look between the Munsons, Eddie rolling his eyes at how the older man’s face melted at her words. Plucking his keys from the hook near the door, he led her out to his van, helped her into the passenger seat, even buckled her seatbelt, all while her head slowly began to bob. Hopping into the driver’s side, he gave the old thing a minute to warm up, the resulting silence between them… comfortable, even if she was half-asleep.

    The drive to her house was short, faster than usual because of the late hour; pulling up in front of her lawn, Eddie was quick to move to her side. As he opened the door for her, he reached over, giving her knee a light tap, the touch jolting her awake.

    “Huh…?”

    “You’re home.” he said, offering his hand to help her out - and part of him was surprised she’d taken it, holding onto him all the way to her front door. He stayed with her as she dug through her bag, mainly out of fear she’d fall over.

    “Shit…” she mumbled, shaking her bag around, face dropping into a frown.

    “What?”

    “Forgot my keys.”

    His gaze darted between her and the curtained window; he swore he could see the faintest gleam of light shining from inside. “Nobody home?” he asked, and with his mind clearly elsewhere, he reached forward, Veronica left pressed into his shoulder as his hand hovered over the doorbell. But, before he could think to press it - before she could think to stop him - the abrupt, rumbling avalanche of footsteps echoed from beyond the door, the wooden thing swinging open with so much force, Eddie thought it’d been torn asunder from its hinges.

    “Veronica…!” A woman yelled, pulling the girl in question into the house by the arm, all but crushing her in her vice-like embrace, pressing a flurry of kisses onto the top of her head. “Oh, I was gettin’ so worried when you didn’t call…!”

    Eddie couldn’t help but stare at the woman, draped in a silken lavender robe fringed in fur, the thing dragging along the ground as she swung Veronica about, bell-shaped sleeves reaching past her knees. Her mop of strawberry-blonde hair was piled high atop her head, wrapped in curlers wider than his fist, and her face was caked in some fluorescent-green goop he could only assume was a face mask.

    “Sorry, Mom…” Veronica mumbled, giving the woman a kiss on the cheek and frowning when she inadvertently tasted the mask.

    Mom?

    “And who’re you?” the woman - Veronica’s mother, apparently - asked, giving Eddie a noticeable once-over, hands settling atop her hips as her gaze upon him chilled, Veronica taking the chance to escape upstairs; Eddie’s eyes followed her silent retreat, and he swallowed against the lump of nervousness in his throat.

    “Hi, ma’am. I’m… uh…” he tries to say, wiping his palm against the side of his pants before extending it out to her. “I’m Eddie Munson. Veronica’s been tutoring me?” As he spoke, the woman’s face melted into something akin to excitement, and she shook his hand with enough gusto to throw off his balance, her cold scrutiny giving way to the brightest of smiles.

    “You’re the Munson kid? It’s a pleasure to finally meet you!” Her voice was high-pitched, energetic, and she didn’t let him go as she continued on, her cherry-tipped fingers still wrapped around his grip. “My name’s Lorraine - I’m Roni’s mother.” And, leaning in toward him, making quite the show of looking around to make sure her daughter was nowhere in sight, Lorraine stage-whispered, “She talks about you all the time!”

    “Mom!” Veronica shouted from upstairs, clearly having heard her.

    Eddie’s face flushed at the admission, and he cleared his throat before asking, “She… She does?”, his stomach flipping at the woman’s emphatic nodding. He shoved his hands into his pockets, taking in a deep breath before adding, “Sorry for bringing her back so late - I know she has a curfew.”

    Lorraine gave his shoulder a swat, her flouncy robe swaying with the movement. “Don’t worry about it! As long as she’s been with you, I think I can make an exception.”

    Eddie nodded in agreement, his smile finally breaking through. “Could you… uh… tell Veronica I’ll pick her up for school tomorrow? I forgot to put her bike in my van before we left.”

    Lorraine nodded, arms crossing over her chest. “Sure, honey. I’ll let her know.”

    He nodded again, his gaze moving to the empty staircase behind her before he finally turned back toward the street. “I guess I should probably go.” he said, adding quickly, “It was nice meeting you, Mrs. Windsor.”

    “Get home safe, dear!” she called out to him, watching from the open door as he made his way back to his van, giving him one final wave as he pulled himself into the driver’s seat before shutting the door.

    Eddie turned on the van, giving the engine a minute or two to heat back up, his hands cupped over his mouth as tried to warm them; just as he’d moved to switch gears from P to D, he jumped at the sudden knock against his window.

    “Hey?” he asked, rolling the thing down, his voice still a bit rough from the shock of finding Veronica standing outside of his van.

    She bit at her lip, kicking her slippered foot against the front tire as she said, “Sorry for tonight.” With her head lowered, she missed his softening grin. “And thanks for the ride.”

    “Dad would’ve killed me if I’d let you leave by yourself.” he replied with a laugh, as though he’d ever have let her go alone, Wayne’s insistence be damned. “I told your mom I’d-”

    “I heard.” Veronica said quickly, cheeks still pinkened with embarrassment at what the woman had told him. “What time will you be here?”

    “Is 7:00 too early for you?”

    “I should be asking you that.”

    Eddie beamed a smile at her, shaking his head. “Right again, sweetheart - I’ll be here at 8:00.” he said, and leaned over the edge of the open window, arms folded beneath his head as he added, “A man needs his beauty sleep, y’know?”

    “You mean those dark circles don’t grow themselves?”

    “Exactly.”

    They stood in silence, their grins slipping as the conversation between them faded away, a chill blowing between them, howling through the trees.

    “You should get inside, it’s too cold to be out here in… are those rabbits?” he asked, eyes wide as he leaned over the window’s edge to look at her slippers, swallowing back a bark of laughter as her face burst red at his words.

    “They were a gift.” she gave by way of explanation, and that was that.

    Eddie pulled himself back into the van, finally pulling it out of park, his foot pressed flush against the brake. “I should probably go before Dad eats my half of the pizza rolls.”

    Veronica nodded, taking a step away from the door. Had he been any more distracted, had he taken a moment longer in buckling his seatbelt, he would have missed her parting words:

    “Goodnight, Eddie.”

    He turned to look at her, her voice echoing through his mind - it certainly hadn’t been the first time she’d said his name, but he’d never heard her say it like that. He blinked, his thoughts a confusing slurry as he somehow managed to return the sentiment.

    “...Goodnight, Veronica.” His voice was low, quiet, but she grinned all the same; she gave him a small wave as he drove off, and he watched from his rearview mirror as she walked across her lawn and back into her house, his heart pounding in his chest as he tried to remember which way was home.

[musicalchaos07]

SORRY I AM THINKING ABOUT NANCY SAYING COPY/PASTE FOR HER AND JONATHAN'S DAUGHTER AGAIN AND IIIII

[fingertipsmp3]

Man, today was absolutely mental. I don’t think I’ve ever come so close to losing it with a customer

[tonycries]

Bad Boys Bring Roses - G.S.

Synopsis. You’ve never dealt with the yakuza - not once. So why is the future head of the Gojo clan suddenly coming up to you, demanding that you marry him for 30 days?

Pairing. Yakuza boss! Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, yakuza! au, fake marriage, annoyances to lovers, elders suck, mentioned k*lling (not reader or Satoru), Satoru is INSANE and SO down bad, one bed trope, praise, biting, oral (fem receiving), fíngering, unprotected, créampie, spitting, overstim, flower language, kníves, bit dark, HAPPY ENDING, pet names, swearing.

Word count. 9.1k (whoopsies)

A/N. I just HAD to get this out of my mind like I wanna write an entire book series on this. Spent too long researching rose language as well so see if y’all catch that hehe.

You thought the wedding invitation was a joke when it had arrived - a delicate, lacey little card that you’ve probably read over a million times by now. It had been stuffed haphazardly into your mailbox, along with a ridiculously large bouquet of purple roses. Seemingly inconspicuous when you first tore into the thick envelope, wondering which one of your friends was getting married now. 

And it was - that is, until you saw your name at the very top - right where the blushing bride’s was supposed to be. 

We hereby formally invite you to the marriage of…

What? 

No return address. No date. No groom’s name either. Only yours, written in beautiful, golden writing - inviting you to your own wedding, exactly a week from now.

You remember perfectly the way you’d flipped it over and over in your hands, the gears turning in your head as you tried to crack down on the motive behind this invitation. A threat? A joke? Texting all of your friends about what a cute prank that was - only to get a shared confused reaction, and a few “April Fool’s has already passed, y’know.”

Hell, you’d even cornered the mailman, desperate to get to the bottom of this. But that wasn’t particularly helpful when he was only able to shake his head in protest, pale as a sheet, and trembling ever-so-slightly as he sped away from you. Weird. 

Without a clue as to who sent the letter, or even a follow-up in the days after, you stuffed the invitation somewhere deep in the back of your closet and handed the bouquet to your mother. Not bothering to tell your parents where it was from - because who’d worry over a stupid prank like this? It was probably one of the kids from down the street that’d gotten their grubby lil’ hands on a printer. 

You, however, had more important things to focus on - like trying to help your father revive his failing diner. It was a family business, a quaint, hearty little shop. One that was quickly, and dangerously, losing both customers and employees with the brand new fast food place that’d popped up right across the street. 

Which is why you found yourself here - working overtime on a Saturday night, looking over the empty chairs and stacks of boxes from behind the counter. Whatever, it was only a few weeks until relocation anyway.

You heave out a sigh, eyes flitting to the clock beside you - 11:21pm.

Nine minutes more, you drum your fingers in boredom, maybe you should just close up early. Because sure as hell no one else was-

“Oh? Still open?”

“Ah- Uh, yes, welcome!” Jolting out of your reverie, you stand up ramrod straight, taking in the customer standing at the door. He wasn’t one of the regulars - no, you think you’d remember if he was. Cloudy white hair, piercing blue eyes that twinkle from above his shades, even in the dim light of the diner. He was so very tall, taking up almost all of the doorframe, only getting more and more imposing as he walks up to you in quick, long strides. Magnetizing. 

And if you dared let your eyes wonder, you caught a few tattoos peeking out from his unfairly snug button-up, clashing with its flashy blue color. Dragons? Trees? Or were they flowers - roses?

“Roses.” the man in front of you answers your unspoken question, voice so very deep, and melodic - tinged with something playful in it that you wouldn’t have expected at first glance. At your raised brow he continues with a wink, “Could tell ya were checkin’ me out, sweetheart.”

“F-forgive my rudeness, sir.” you sputter, face burning. You look away from the way his muscled ripple as he crosses his arms, immediately turning to fumble with the menus, “Please take a seat and I’ll be there with you shortly.”

You’d expected him to take up a booth, or maybe head towards one of the good tables around the corner. What you did not expect was for him to plop down on the stool right in front of you, flashing you a playful grin before humming, “S’alright, m’just waitin’ for someone.”

Oh. Well, it made sense that someone like him would be taken. Swallowing, you hand over the menu, before giving him a close-lipped smile, “A lover?”

Resting his head on his palms, not bothering to even glance at the list of dishes before him. “My fiancée.”

“Congratulations, Mr…”

“Gojo Satoru.” he tilts his head, looking way too happy with himself. “Please, call me Satoru.” 

You nod softly, picking up your pen and notepad to get this conversation over with - and maybe to also avoid his heavy stare that made something hot and uncomfortable coil in your stomach. “Right, Mr-” at his disappointed whine, “Satoru. Congratulations, must be one heck of a thing to plan.”

“Oh I’m having fun with the wedding planning.” He waves off your words with a chuckle, missing - or pointedly ignoring - the way you were waiting for his order. “How’s it going for you?”

What?

You narrow your eyes at the way Satoru was batting those long lashes up at you, deceivingly innocent and waiting for your answer. “I’m sorry- Me? Did you mean with the diner relocation plans or-”

“No no no.” he laughs, loud and boisterous. And usually you’d have a thing or two to say at someone interrupting you if you weren’t so mesmerized by that little dimple at the corner of his grin. One that moves as he plows on, “M’asking how wedding planning is going for you, wifey~”

There’s a beat of silence. One. Two. With you gaping at the pure audacity as Satoru quiets down to little titters, seemingly studying your reaction in amusement. Which slowly, but surely, drains from his face as you grit out a sharp, “I’m gonna have to ask you to leave, sir. We’re very busy and don’t have time to entertain your pick-up lines.”

Those widened blue eyes sweep the painfully empty diner, letting out a low whisper. “I can see that.” you let out a strangled noise of embarrassment at that. “But you’re really gonna ask your husband to leave?”

Huffing in frustration, “I don’t have a husband.”

“...you do.”

“I don’t.”

“You do.”

“I don’t. And who the fuck are you to tell me I do?”

“What?!” Satoru jumps out of his seat in shock, fast enough that the stool clatters to the floor with a deafening clang! Hands slamming on the counter as he leans over it - so close that you could feel his minty breath fanning your face with each hurried, shrill word that tumbles out of his lips. “What do you mean you don’t have a- I’m gonna kill those fuckin’- After I bought Canva premium just to make that invitation? Did the flowers come at least?”

And while Satoru is panicking, words spilling out of his mouth a mile a minute - only one of those rings in your mind - invitation. 

“You.” you hiss, barely audible over meltdown in front of you. Pointing a finger accusingly, “You’re the one behind that prank with the dumbass roses.”

That seems to snap Satoru out of his dramatic monologue - and you’re glad it did. Because he looks up to meet your glare, “Hey! You didn’t like the roses?” 

And for the first time, you see Satoru more serious than he’d been ever since stepping into this diner. Eyes somewhere behind you, ablaze and almost…frightening. “Didn’t you ask him?” 

You whirl around to see your father, who’d apparently rushed downstairs at the commotion. Baseball bat to fight off the intruder hanging in midair as he stands frozen, taking in the scene before him - but more importantly, that man in front of him. “You.”

---

And, well, it’s not everyday that you’re having late night tea with your parents and one of your father’s…business associates. Even rarer when said business associate is…you gulp, praying to whoever’s above that this is all some sick dream you’ll wake up any second from. 

“So, let me get this straight…” you sigh, pinching your nose in frustration. It’s been an hour or two of trying to understand whatever this was. Giving a stern look at the two men squirming across from you in the booth. “My father was conned by one of your-” you gesture your head at Satoru, which only makes his smirk grow, “-men to take a loan from your um-”

“Family, yakuza. Anything goes.” he supplies helpfully.

You wave him off, trying as quickly as possible to brush off the ‘yakuza’ bit that makes your stomach lurch. “And now he owes you a favor of…what exactly?”

Satoru leans across the table, t-shirt opening tantalizingly. Voice dropping to an almost-pleading murmur, “Look, I just need you to pretend to be my doting, loving, charming, gorgeous-” backtracking at your withering glare, “...Anyway. I just need a fake wife for a few months, convince my family to get off my back about arranged marriage n’ carrying the Gojo legacy. Then bam! you stomp all over my heart, we divorce and I’m too heartbroken to ever get married again. Easy.” 

“No.”

“Please?”

“No.”

You bet Satoru’s disappointed groan echoed across all 23 words of Tokyo, because it was definitely ringing in your ears amongst whirlwind thoughts of marriage? To a yakuza? Completely, and utterly ridiculous. And from his talks of “carrying the family name” it seemed like he was some sort of future head as well. Though, he definitely wasn’t acting like it right now. 

“Alright. Plan B, then.” 

Oh? You couldn’t help but think that maybe he wasn’t that much of a manchild as sits up from where he’d been splayed all over the table in tragedy. Lacing his fingers together before turning to your father, continuing in a more diplomatic tone, “But I want the cash you took. In full. Now. Gonna hafta disguise my best friend as my wife, n’ dresses for a six foot man aren’t cheap.”

Your mother looked like she could faint right then and there. Choking out a noise of surprise, “B-but we’ve deposited it all for the relocation- Please, can’t we pay any other-”

At the firm shake of his head, you stammer, “Now? Aren’t you some yakuza nepo baby, can’t you just ask your parents for money?”

“No.” Satoru chuckles, in a tone which told you that he probably could but might just lose his head for it. Only further supported as he muses, “Not unless I want a finger cut off for dealin’ money on the side. Seriously, sweetheart, why did you think I sent you the invitation last week?”

“Take me instead.” you father cries, trying to negotiate above Satoru’s half-joking mutters of “Ugh, I’m not into ol’ men dumb enough to sign yakuza contracts.”

It was all too much. You couldn’t take out the relocation deposit - it was a new start, possibly the only thing to save your family. Nor do you have enough in savings to pay back the loan. And if Satoru’s warning was anything to listen to, then you knew that dealing with the yakuza could be dangerous. Why you? Why you? Why you? 

“Fine.”

The moment that word leaves your lips, it’s like the whole world freezes. Everyone in the room - including yourself - unsure of whether they heard you right. “I’ll do it.” you clarify, voice hesitant but firm. Eyeing the way Satoru’s eyes begin to sparkle, the beginnings of a smile curling his lips. Raising a finger to shush your father’s protests, “But for a month, until we leave this place. After that m’going with my family and you’re never to contact us ever again. Deal?”

And oh Satoru seemed over the moon, reaching out to grasp your hand in a handshake - so warm, and softer than you’d imagined. “Swear on m’life, wifey. You can kill me if not.”

He was so intimidating - and intimidatingly exhilarating.

Only an hour more of arguing and a quick phone call later, men - yakuza, you assume - were flooding your family’s little diner. All tattooed and burly, looking somewhat comical as they carried your few packed-up suitcases outside. Well, at least they stayed for a late dinner. 

And ended up being witnesses to a very rushed, very rushed signing of marriage agreements. Evidence to really show up your alleged marriage. It barely even lasted a few minutes before, well, that was that - you were married, to the son of a yakuza head. 

You say a quick goodbye to your teary parents, soothing them with promises of “I’ll be back before you know it. One month. That’s all.” 

“And don’t worry about a thing,” Satoru sing-songs, coming up behind you. “If there’s anyone she’s safe with, it’s me.”

“You better keep your mitts off of my baby.” your father warns, raising the baseball bat still clutched in his hand menacingly. 

“I won’t lay a hand on her, father-in-law. And anyone that even thinks about it…” he cackles, breath hot against your ear, sending shivers down your spine. “I’ll kill.”

Prancing off to hold the door of that shiny black Mercedes parked outside open for you. “Ladies first.”

With another quick hug to your parents, you hastily make your way inside. Feeling extremely out of place amongst the overly luxurious interior in your slightly-stained work uniform. God, the covers on these cushions themselves probably cost more than your house. 

“Like the car? I can buy you one. Or four, as a wedding gift.” Satoru grins. 

Oh, right. You weren’t in here alone - you were here with your new…husband. The word felt so strange to even wrap your head around, instead you turn to meet his easy smile. Clenching your jaw as you grit out, “So how do we act m-married?”

You swear he brightens up impossibly, scooting closer to you on the seat. Heart lurching as he raises his eyes to meet yours, dizzy with the heat of his proximity, he promptly pulls out his Notes app. 

“Well, you see. I forgot to send this with the invitation so you better memorize this before we get home.” flashing you a long, long list of likes and dislikes, “Here’s my favorite color and my favorite Digimon and-”

That car ride could not have been longer. Because in addition to arguing with Satoru about who the best Digimon was, you had to fill out your own version of his overly extensive list. “So we can be foolproof.” he’d whined. And you’d been so engrossed in the process that you barely noticed the looming estate out the window.

“We’re here, young master and madam Gojo.”

It took a second to register that the driver was talking to you as well as Satoru, immediately pushing your face against the window to take in the scenic site before you. Heavy wooden doors - probably taller than an average house - opening to reveal sprawling gardens. Koi ponds and rose bushes lining a pathway that led to a traditional Japanese house - all power and glory. You half wondered whether you were still in Tokyo. 

“Home sweet home.” Satoru grunts. “Such a beautiful hell, huh?”

Your home, for the next month. At least. 

And if you had any doubt that Satoru was in fact the future yakuza head, that all went out the window at the welcome you got. Men lining the wooden hallway, bowing at the waist while your all-new husband wraps a hand around your shoulders, pointing out the various rooms and ornaments as he led you in. 

“-and this is going to be our room.” he brings you in front of a large tatami room, one the size of your entire diner. 

“Ours.” you repeat. Walking unhurriedly to the king-sized bed in the middle - the only bed. Heart pounding as you take it all in. 

“Ours.” Satoru echoes, happily. And if he was any bit as affected as you are, then he doesn’t show it, instead pulling out a blue yukata from the closet, a golden Gojo emblem stamped on the back. Made with such a pretty, delicate fabric that it made you shiver to think how much it cost. “Now, I had these made jus’ for you last week. You can give me a lil’ fashion show tomorrow, so make sure you get some rest, wifey.”

It’s only when he says the word “rest” that you realize exactly how tired you are. Your long shift and the entirety of this having your eyes feeling heavier than usual. 

“Um…” you start, risking a glance at the bed. 

Satoru jolts, “Ah- don’t worry, sweetheart. You take the bed.” beginning to saunter outside to meet his team. “Got some work, so I’ll be sleeping in my office. Dream of me~”

And, really, you almost felt bad splaying yourself out on the crisp navy sheets. Sinking into the heady smell of fabric softener, and something so so Satoru. Addictive. Like an expensive cologne that made your head spin, one that wafted through your mind as you dreamt of summer weddings, and blue, blue skies.

“Ichiji.”

“Yes, young master.”

“See to it that the madam is safe. Anyone try anything funny and you bring them back alive. I wanna be the one to play with them, okay~?”

“Of course, young master.”

---

Admittedly, you probably have the best sleep of your life at the Gojo estate- or, it would’ve been if your husband didn’t burst in every morning at 7am. Handing you a ridiculously big bouquet of white roses, straight from the garden, before dragging you outside. 

Milling about the estate, Satoru was never too far behind, chattering away. Letting you hold onto his strong arm crossing the bridges, occasionally having you show up to yakuza meetings as his plus one. Relishing in the rumors spreading all through the yakuza syndicates in Tokyo. Gojo Satoru, and the commoner wife he’d do anything for.

Weirdly enough, some strange little part of you thinks he puts in a lot more work than necessary for some pretend relationship…

“I think that stupid plan is really working, y’know.” you muse to him after a few days of this. Dipping your fingers into one of your favorite koi ponds with a nod at the figures watching you from a distance - Gojo clan elders, you assume. “Those old coots hate being within a five mile radius of me.”

Satoru huffs out a laugh, “That so? S’probably the method acting then, huh? Taking good care of me, wifey?” he wiggles his eyebrows, nudging you from where he was holding an umbrella beside you. 

Furrowing your brows mockingly, “S’funny for you to say, they don’t even look at me. But they follow me around everywhere.”

“Do they annoy you, must I do my duty as a husband and gouge their eyes out?”

He…didn’t sound like he was joking. 

Rolling your eyes, you pointedly ignoring the way your heart lurches at the word “husband.” Still so jumpy at the idea. “Speaking of, your parents give up the marriage proposals, yet?”

At this, Satoru clenches his jaw. “Still nagging, but they’re finally considering you as my actual bride rather than some hijink.” he spits out, seemingly recalling whatever conversation they’d had before. “And they want to have some family ‘dinner’, but it’s going to be awful and you don’t-”

“Let’s go.” you interrupt, nodding determinedly. “The realer this marriage seems, the faster we can divorce, no?”

He blinks at you slowly, “That’s…true. For the divorce, then?”

“For the divorce.”

And, well, that was settled - you were to meet your new in-laws. The ever-elusive heads of the Gojo clan. Also one of the most powerful yakuza in all of Japan, but, semantics really.

You spend the evening cooped up with Satoru in the library, poring over the bloody history of the yakuza - with the Gojo’s heading them all. The only time he actually leaves your side is a few hours before the dinner. 

“For you.” he’d murmured, lips ghosting your ear, slipping something cold onto your finger. You look down to see one of the most beautiful rings you’ve ever seen - gold, with delicate blue and white diamonds encrusting it, cut in the shape of roses. “Can’t be married without a wedding ring, huh? Think of it as a good luck charm for tonight.”

And with that he’s swept away in a flurry of bodyguards and ruffled men, and you’re left standing there all alone. Cheeks burning, wondering how the hell he knew your perfect fit. 

You worry longer about the dinner than you spend actually preparing for it. Though, that’s probably because of the group of stylists that come into your room to help you dress. Wordlessly fussing around you despite your weak attempts at conversation, eyes averted. Almost like they were…scared of you. 

But there wasn’t much time to think of that - not when you’re being marched off in the direction of what you remember Satoru had called the family dining room. “More like a fuckin’ meeting room for those hardasses.” he’d snarked.

The moment you step in, all eyes turn to you - the only ones you recognize being Satoru’s, who immediately stands with a smile. “Ah, wifey! Well, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes.” pulling you into a tight hug. His voice drops into a low, raspy murmur in your ear, “Ya look fuckin’ gorgeous in my colors, y’know.”

Traitorously, jolts of electricity run down your spine. Especially at how fucking gorgeous he looked in traditional wear. Whispering back, “Playing up the doting husband bit, huh?”

“Only for you.”

Pulling away, you drink in his dangerously handsome state. Hair so effortlessly styled, tattoos winking at you from just above his yukata - blue, to match yours. So pretty.

Stammering out, “Corny.”

“Only for-”

“Now that the girl is finally here, may we begin with dinner?” A stained voice sounds from behind Satoru, old and tinged with a tone that years of customer service told you did not bode well. Craning your head, you look over his broad shoulders, meeting the eyes of several disapproving elders. 

Shit. Some of the most dangerous people in this country right now. 

Gathered here - for you. 

Automatically, you knew which ones were his parents - painfully upright, and hauntingly beautiful in a cold, calculated way. Sat right at the head of the long table. With a jolt, you realize that you two are seated right opposite them. 

“So.” his mother starts, as you take your seat with a bow. Satoru doesn’t waste any time on niceties, plopping down right next to you, scooting closer than necessary. “Congratulations on the…wedding, my son.”

My son. You ignore the way both parents pointedly avoided looking at you. Your husband, however, does not. “What~ Not gonna wish my dear wife as well?”

It’s a silent staredown - one that has the entire room on edge. You don’t realize that you’re clenching your fists in tension until Satoru untangles them, slipping his larger hands into yours. Gaze still alarmingly intense and locked on the other side of the table.

He wins.

“Congratulations. Let us begin now.” 

You breathe out a sigh of relief, the tension only slightly broken as butlers stream into the room, carrying decadent trays of food. Well, at least the food might make up for how appalling this dinner is going to be.

It’s only 15 minutes in that you realize how very, horribly wrong you are - because the elders of the Gojo estate really don’t hold back, do they? Thank God you memorized every part of that stupid likes and dislikes list.

Besides picking apart every aspect of your relationship that they could manage to squeeze out of you between the appetizer and the main course, the main scrutiny tonight seems to be you. But in that icy, subtle way that has Satoru’s jaw clenching tighter each second. 

Lips curling, Gojo senior eyes you over his wine glass. “So, dear,” voice dripping with underlying venom despite the pet name. “Is it true our Satoru missed an esteemed marriage meeting with the Zenin group to ambush you at some rundown old diner?”

You fight to keep the smile plastered onto your face, painful and cracking under the pressure. A hand squeezing under the table to stop Satoru from opening his mouth to retort, you answer instead, “Well, ambushed wouldn’t be the word. You could say we fell in love over the counter - at my family’s diner.”

“A waitress, she said?”

“Now we know why it was this rushed. Probably pregnant.”

“The scandal. How far the Gojo name has fallen.”

The few stifled gasps from the other end of the table are so dramatic that you could almost laugh. But you don’t. Breath hitching as Mrs. Gojo chuckles, “Marrying the daughter of a lowly diner owner? How... quaint.”

“Mother, be quiet or-”

“What?” she throws her hands in exasperation. “Can’t I say anything around here. Honestly, Satoru, I’m just trying to make conversation with your new wife.”

Before either you or Satoru can react, his father speaks up, apparently not done with the interrogation. “You understand that we’re just worried, right, dear? Especially with marrying into prestigious families, of course.” The emphasis on “prestigious” is not lost on you.” And it drives you insane. 

Steeling yourself, you train your eyes on the untouched food below you. “I understand.”

Plowing on as if trying to infuriate you, “And you understand that this position is dangerous? You’ll be targeted.”

“I understand.”

“Do you? Don’t be swept up in our Satoru’s charm and wealth, dear, my son just wants a way out of duty.” tone dripping with disdain, Satoru’s grip becoming tighter and tighter on yours. “The Gojo syndicate owns half of this city, we could bulldoze over that little diner of yours with only one phone call”

“My wife and I are leav-”

“I said I fuckin’ understand.” Your words hang in the air like a foul stench, and you raise your head to glare. If looks could kill, all the elders in this room would be six feet under and you’d be dancing on their graves already. “Neither me, nor my husband would ever let that happen because he knows a thing or two about respect, unlike you.” Lacing your fingers tighter with Satoru’s. “So shove your mighty family up your wrinkly asses. I don’t give a flying shit.” 

Eyes wide, jaws dropped, the old couple opposite you finally seems stunned into silence. And if it was any other situation you could’ve almost laughed at how similar they looked to Satoru when he found out you thought his proposal was a prank.

His father adjusts his glasses. “Perhaps that is so.”

Ah, if only the rest of the table would be quietened just as easily. 

“Not only is she a slut she’s a-”

Thud!

It all happens so fast you’re not even sure if your eyes are playing tricks on you. Because in a split-second, the knife that was at your side is suddenly embedded, deep into the wooden table - barely even an inch away from the elder that had spoken up. 

“You’re lucky I’m matching with my wife n’ didn’t want to dirty this new yukata.” a voice sounds from your side. Melodic and so so eerie that you don’t realize for a second that it’s Satoru - your Satoru. 

He loops an arm under your legs as he stands up. Easily maneuvering you into a princess carry, forcing you to cling onto his robes for dear life as your feet dangle from the floor. You look up - maybe to snap at Satoru to put you down - only for the words to die in your throat at how absolutely fucking feral your husband looked. Eyes wide, aura menacing. A grin gracing his features, not the familiar one which had your heart racing, no - something so dangerous and cold. 

“Now,” he hums. Turning his back to the room, gaze still locked with the shocked heads inside, “My lovely wife and I will be retiring. Won’t you all say goodnight to your future madam?”

You don’t know what shocks you more - the way everyone in that room mumbles out a disdainful little “Goodnight, ma’am.”, or the way Satoru cackles as he carries you to your shared bedroom. Laying you gently on the mattress with a quiet, “Be right back, sweetheart.”

What the fuck happened?

He could’ve killed that man. And looked like he wanted to. 

Your brain yells at you - run away run away run away- But you weren’t…scared? In fact, you don’t think you’ve ever been less fearful in your entire life. Especially not when Satoru stumbles back into the room, clearly rushing. Something warm spreading in your chest at the trays of food in his hands.

“Dinner’s better without a bunch of fossils on my kill list.” he grins. Settling right next to you on the bed, setting out the dinner he’d brought for you. And, well, you didn’t doubt that they really were on his kill list. 

“Hey, wifey.” Satoru speaks up after a few moments of silence, satisfied with the food laid in front of you. “M’sorry for putting you through that. No more family dinners from now.”

You inch closer to lay your head on his sculpted shoulder, a hand bringing up the food to his pretty lips. He smelled so good, faintly like pine, and clouds. It made you so dizzy. “Eat, Satoru.”

That’s all which is said, because maybe that’s all that was needed. And for a second there, you almost forget that this is all pretend.

---

“Hey, uh- mister. You alright?” you call out, voice barely audible over the rain. 

The sullen figure didn’t react at first, soaked through and eyes trained on the ground. Unmoving, even when you hesitantly drew closer, umbrella quivering in your hands. 

You should turn around - walk away like everyone else on the sidewalk was doing. But no, something about the way he sat alone, stoic to the storm around him made you inch closer. “Here.” you hold out your umbrella. “S’our diner’s, but you look like you could use this more than I do.”

He jolts, as if hearing you for the first time. A flash of blue, so quick you almost think you miss it. Still not raising his head fully, the man’s snowy hair tousles as he jerkily closes around the handle. Pretty. And so so sad.

“It’ll be alright.” you nod. 

And with that, you turn, running back in the rain to the haven of the diner, where your father was waiting impatiently - he’d just bought the boxes to start packing up for relocation. Fingers still burning ever-so-slightly where his hand had brushed against yours. How strange, you wondered his name.

---

Satoru stayed true to his word over the weeks that followed. His parents seemed well and fully intent on avoiding you. And, well, other than a few disdainful remarks, the elders mostly scurried away in fear at your very sight. 

The only thing that made your skin prickle was that the housekeepers had a penchant for peeping in on the two of you. Increasingly following you - they always did, but now…honestly, it was a bit disconcerting. 

But other than that, it was almost…peaceful. You wake up every morning to a large bouquet of burgundy roses at your bedside table - and a husband. Because Satoru had taken to sleeping on the little couch at the corner of your room every night - saying something about not wanting to rouse suspicion because if he actually had a wife he’d be “taking her to bed every night”. Somehow, you didn’t doubt it. 

“Funny how it’s getting close to a month of being married, but you haven’t even kissed me yet.” you deadpan. Looking down at where he was resting his head in your lap, sprawled across the soft grass in the garden.

Something else also happened - something different.

Because Satoru was a bit touchier, a bit closer. Like right now, preening into your fingers carding through his soft hair. “Oh~? Why, wanna take me to bed, wifey?”

“You wish.”

“Maybe I do.”

Your hands still, pulse racing as your eyes bore into Satoru’s, trying to figure out what sort of bad joke this was. Subconsciously, you find yourself leaning down closer - too closer. Close enough that you could count every shade of blue in his hungry gaze. But by the grace of whoever was above-

“Young master, please excuse the intrusion but you have-”

Sitting up abruptly, addressing the newcomer in a stone-cold tone. “How many fuckin’ times have I not told you to never bother me when I’m with my wife?”

The servant bows apologetically, sputtering out apologies as you move to get up. Flashing a smirk at Satoru’s dramatic pout, “I have to catch up on some reading anyway. See ya, Satoru.” 

“Noo~ my sweetheart don’t leave me~” 

You stifle a laugh at his little tantrum, so different from when he was serious. He was so….dizzying. “You’ll be okay, Satoru.” Glancing up nervously to meet the servant’s intense stare, studying the scene before him, how different his master was. “I’ll be at the library now.”

And Satoru notices - of course, he does. He sees that tiny flash of concern in your eyes. One that you might not have noticed yourself. He lowers his voice as you walk away, so you don’t hear him speaking behind you. Words dripping with a similar venom he always heard from his parents, “Now, tell me who you’re spying for. Names, first and last.” 

Satoru doesn’t join you in the library that day, the first time in weeks. And you find yourself missing him more than you should. It’s dark out by the time you’re raising your head from the books, joints aching from poring over them for hours. The house seems a lot quieter. Somewhat bigger. 

Something was wrong. Something was wrong. Something was wrong. 

Scratching the back of your head, you wander through the wooden hallways to your bedroom - wondering what was amiss. Your feet take you there as if on autopilot, thankful for Satoru’s meticulous tours. 

“Hey,” you smile softly at a servant making your bed, “Where are-”

Your question dies in your throat at the way she yelps at your words, hurrying down the corridor with a jerky bow. Weird. Leaving you all alone, and confused, muttering to yourself, it’s only then that you notice the flash of red by your bedside table. 

Not a bouquet. Only a single, red rose - a note tied around the stem, something you’d never gotten before. 

“The marriage proposals have been revoked, your contract is fulfilled, my ex-wife.”

Oh, reading that hurt more than it should’ve. You should be happy at being free, a few days earlier than expected at that - but it was over - just like that. You didn’t want to leave him. You didn’t want to leave him.You didn’t want to leave him.

 Were you going insane?

Clutching the flower like a lifeline, heaving out a sigh, “Maybe Satoru knows…”

“Thinking of me?”

Startled, you whirl behind to face your husband. In the dim-lighting, making out the stoney expression on his face, eyes wide and a little duller than they had been earlier today. 

“Satoru?”

His eyes light up at the mere sound of your voice - then you’re engulfed in him. Wrapping you in his arms, bowing his body into yours, so tight that it almost hurts. But you let him, fisting the fresh yukata in your hands - and that’s when you realize, he’s changed his robes since this morning. “Are you okay?” you whisper into his shoulder. Drinking in the smell of his cologne, and something faintly metallic. 

Every cell in your body is screaming at you to take the opportunity - to run away from this yakuza and his slaughter and whatever this was. But how could you? Staying rooted to the spot, not even a speck of fear.

Satoru heaves out a heavy breath, tickling the hairs at your nape as he pulls you impossibly closer. “Those nosy elders won’t be bothering you anymore, sweetheart. You’re free to go.”

A shudder runs down your spine at his words, and you didn’t want to think too hard about what they meant. Instead, you guide him to your bed - and, surprisingly, he allows you to. Letting the two of you sink into the plush mattress. With Satoru still in your arms. He repeats, “You’re free to go.”

Run away. Run away. Run away-

There it was again - that strained little manta. You stare right into his eyes, voice thick at the sinking feeling in your stomach. “My 30 days aren’t over yet.” 

“Leave. Please.” he grunts into the crook of your neck, like your hands drawing patterns down his back had broken some dam. “M’not a good man.” 

You press your lips to his forehead, searing and a desperate attempt to soothe the man. “I think I’ll be the judge of that.”

“I’m yakuza, sweetheart. Doomed to follow my parents here.” he mutters, strained and voice more unsure than you’ve ever heard. And once he started, it was like Satoru just couldn’t stop, rambling into your skin, “I hate it here, and you should, too. All these fuckin-”

“So go with me instead.”

“What if-”

“Toru.‘ you cut off his words, slurring and spilling out of his mouth. Gently, you pry him away from his little haven, reeling back to take a good look at the face he’s been hiding for so long. Hair mussed, curtaining his whirling eyes - all disheveled and vulnerable where he was once so suave. 

Your eyes bore into his, unwavering. “It’ll be alright, Toru.”

And then he’s kissing you - and you’re kissing him. Only when his lips meet yours, soft, and so so sweet, do you realize that this is everything you ever want right now - possibly these past few weeks. “Y’can kill me if you don’ want his.” he mutters into your open mouth.  

It’s so desperate - a messy clash of teeth and saliva, Satoru was drinking you in like you were the last drop of water on Earth. He tasted so sweet, like candy almost, and the gentle caress of a lover. You were addicted like you could do this forever and ever and-

And then he’s pulling away. A disappointed little whine leaves you involuntarily as he parts, delicate strings of saliva snapping in the space between you two. Satoru’s mouth drops into a soft oh! at the noise, surging forward minutely like he was about to kiss you senseless again. Only to halt with a pained grunt, just a hair’s breadth from your lips. 

“M’sorry.” Claiming your lips once again, like a man possessed. Drinking in your breathless gasps. Like he never wanted to let go. “F-fuck, sweetheart. Y’don’t know how crazy you drive me.” he pants.

“Why did you pick me?” you blurt out, a question that had been nagging at the back of your mind every time Satoru slipped his hand in yours, introducing you as his loving wife. “Was it just the debt?”

He’s kissing your pulse now, canines hovering over the erratic little cadence. Breathing you in like you were intoxicating. “No.” he’s licking a long, languid stripe up your neck. Pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses down every inch of skin he could reach. 

“Then why?” your words come out in almost an embarrassing plea. But by the way his breath hitches, you know that Satoru loves it. 

“Because.” he breathes, “You treated me like a human.”

He’s capturing your lips with his again, nipping at your bottom lips. You squeal as he pulls, suddenly wanting him to tease you like this everywhere. To have him absolutely ruin you like you know he could - treat you like the wife he claimed you were. 

But Satoru wasn’t done yet - far from it. He chuckles, kissing down your neck, fumbling with the ties of your yukata, “Remember that night? You probably don’t, was rainin’ so hard I thought I’d drown out there.” Worshiping the valley between your breasts as he hastily unbuckles your bra. “That night was when the marriage proposals had come in. They said I’d either carry the legacy or be forced to leave the family. Kicked out of my own home.” 

And you’re reeling from both his words and the way Satoru was rocking his hips into yours now, something hot, and so achingly hard pressing in the damp area between your legs. “Thought I was gonna take ‘em all out that night.”

“Take them all out?” your breath hitches.

“Every. Single. One.” Fingers dancing across the hem of your panties. “Wouldn’t have felt bad about it either.” 

Satoru’s licking down your navel now, humming in confirmation into your skin. “But then…” he groans, taking in the first fucking sinful sight of your drenched panties. So flimsy and already dripping for him - and after just a few kisses, really? You were heaven on Earth. “But then along came you. So pretty and all worried f’me. The daughter of that diner owner I’d loaned money too.”

You watch, heart racing as Satoru swallows in awe. Darkened gaze locked on the way your slick beads out of your pussy, bare thighs trying to close - give yourself some semblance of dignity. But no- how could you? When Satoru’s holding them apart.

“And then I knew…” he’s sliding his index underneath your panties up and down, grazing your swollen folds. Pooling your sweet sweet juices on his fingertip before popping it into his mouth. Eyes fluttering shut at the taste, and you’ve never seen him look so blissful. “I just had to have you.”

Rip! 

The cold air brushes against you before you even know it - only when you feel Satoru’s hot breath against your dripping cunt does it hit - this bastard just ripped your panties off. And he was dangling it like a badge of honor, breathing in your juices so animalistically. 

Your lips wobble as he just admires your pussy, the way it glistens and clenches around nothing. “Hah- please.”

“Please what?” he grins, and you can feel him licking little circles around your inner thigh. So close. “The wife of a yakuza boss has gotta know how to use her words.”

“You’re awful.”

“And yet you married me.”

With such a cute lil’ whine that makes Satoru’s cock twitch so painfully, you buck your hips closer to his hot mouth. “Wan’ your mouth on me, to eat me out. Please, Toru.”

He lets out a shuddering breath, “There’s my girl.”

You gasp when he surges forward, burying his pretty face nose-deep in your pussy. Holding your breath as he lazily licks up your folds - long, sloppy movements of his tongue all the way from your base to your swollen clit. Swirling deftly around the sensitive nub. 

Drunk off your pussy with the way he’s so messy - seemingly unable to decide between sucking harshly on your poor, ravaged clit to dipping into your sloppy hole. And it’s driving you mad, keening and pulling at his soft locks. You haven’t been touched this good in ages, and Satoru was well and fully intent on ruining you. 

“Shhh, don’t worry, wifey.” words muffled into your cunt, “Your husband’s gonna take care of you.” He’s throwing your legs over his broad shoulders.

“Real good care of you.” Then he’s plunging knuckle-deep in your plushy pussy, the tips of his long fingers massaging your plushy walls. Messy enough that your slick is trailing down his wrist. Roaming for that one spot he knows will have you moaning deliciously. Pressing down, hard.  “Found it. Gonna have you screamin’ my name til’ the entire estate hears.”

You tug on his hair, urging Satoru’s mouth towards your cunt - partially because you wanted him there, partially because you really needed him to shut up right now. 

And shit how could he ever say no to his pretty wife?

Satoru is grinning, you can feel it on your throbbing clit as he wraps his pretty pink lips around it. Pumping his fingers in and out, hitting that little spot each and every time. Looking like he was absolutely in heaven as he rolls and swirls his tongue against your clit over and over and-

“Sh-shit. Toru-”

“Mmm, yes- fuck, love it when you call me that.” he groans. And oh he’s looking at you like he wants to devour you - eyes half-lidded, such a pretty blush disting his cheeks - and making out with your pussy just as much. Tilting his head back, back, back so that your juices slide down his throat. “Feels good? Ya like when m’ruining your pretty pussy?”

“Yes!” you squirm. Shaking, bucking your hips into his touch so desperately. “Wanted it s’bad.” 

He’s becoming frenzied now, drinking in your cute little whimpers like he was addicted. But it wasn’t enough - it never was and fuck Satoru wanted more more more-

“Move your hips, yeah- jus’ like that.” Satoru’s grunting and smacking his lips against your own. Letting you pull and angle him just as you please. 

“Gonna be the best fuckin’ husband you’ll ever have. N’ anyone that says otherwise, m’gonna fuckin’ kill.” The vibrations have your body jerking violently. “Make you cum harder than y’ever have. C’mon, say yes.”

And with that, he’s alternating between lapping at your clit and bullying his tongue through your swollen folds. Stretching you, thrusting in and out of your sloppy hole. Jaw grinding deeper into you as he eats you out like his last meal. “Ngh- fuck, yes yes yes-”

“Beg for it, beg for your husband.”

“Wanna cum- Ah! Please, wanna cum, Toru.”

One hand so messy toying with your dripping entrance - not having the patience or the sanity to even draw circles anymore. Just quick, hurried patterns to get you off. The other digging into your hips, so hard you were sure it’d leave marks for tomorrow. Making you drag your sloppy pussy senselessly all over his mouth. Using him. 

“Hngh- Toru! Ah- fuck fuck Toru Toru T-”  You’re shaking - crying out as you cum. A guttural, strangled moan of your husband’s name. So violent, and hard that you don’t even realize at first. Just that you’re rocking your hips into Satoru, white-hot pleasure behind your eyes, blood roaring in your ears.

And he doesn’t stop - not even once. If you were in any better state of mind you’d wonder whether it hurt - whether his fingers were cramping up, and his tongue was tired. If they were, he didn’t show, only letting you chase your high as roughly as you want. 

Greedily lapping up all your juices. Even when you’re blinking your vision back, chest heaving as you try to regain our breath. “S-Satoru.” you mewl, stars behind your eyes with each flick of his tongue. 

“Jus’ a bit more. Wanna taste all of you.”

You weren’t going to make it out alive.

Big, fat tears pricking at your eyes from the overstimulation as Satoru finally rises from what you almost worried would be his favorite seat. “All done. Now, keep that pretty lil’ cunt on display f’me, my girl.”

And your cunt is clenching in- fear? Anticipation? As your husband finally unties his yukata, letting it slide off those milky, toned shoulders. And shit he was such a fucking masterpiece. The dim-lighting bouncing off every curve and dip of those carved abs. Delicate swirls of his tattoo inching from his collarbone, down, down, down, hugging Satoru in a way that made you so half-lucidly jealous. All the way till the last inky thorn meets the neat tufts of white hair peeking up from the hem of his underwear. 

“Touch me.” he groans into your ear. The words barely leave those pretty lips before your hands are everywhere. Dancing down his tattoo, groping at this pecs - too much to worship, not enough time. 

“Toru…” you trail off, hand reaching out to brush his waistband. Tugging just enough that his throbbing cock springs out, hitting his sculpted abdomen. Red, and so so angry, fat tip weeping down his length, already so soaked in precum. He was so intimidatingly long - longer than anyone else you’d had before. Thick enough that you wondered whether you’d hurt yourself. 

And he sees right through you.

“Now now, none of that.” he tuts, pushing your bare thighs as far apart as they’d go. He spreads your cunt so shamefully with his thumb. Spitting once, twice. Some of it splatter against your thigh as Satoru mixes his saliva with your slick. “Don’t worry, wifey, m’gonna make it feel good for ya.”

You flinch as he uses you like some object. Dangerously liking it more and more as he drags his fat head down your folds. Wetting himself, all the preparation he was going to give you because fuck Satoru needed to be inside your pretty lil’ pussy right now. 

Then you feel like you’re being split apart - as if Satoru’s cock was pushing all the way to your lungs as he presses through the first ring of muscle.

“Ah! Ngh- Toru, s’too big!” you yelp, eyes locked on the way your lips were stretched so lewdly around his tip. Clamping and quivering as he keeps pushing in, inch by fucking inch. No mercy. Absolutely none at all. 

And while he sounded like he was on cloud nine, you were having your head spin, torn between wanting to run away from his massive cock and just push yourself down for more more more. His lips claim yours - absolutely animalistic because God he needed to shut up your pretty whines or else Satoru was going to cum right here right now.

“Breathe, sweetheart, breath. Ngh- You can take it.” Satoru pants into your mouth, fucking into you in mindless, shallow little thrusts just to fit inside your snug cunt. Sounding like he was losing his sanity each time your heavenly walls milked him. “So fuckin’ tight. Jus’ relax f’me. Oh yeah, jus’ like that. You can take it you can-”

You gasp for air when he finally bottoms out inside you, tears streaming down your face and clawing at his back. 

Satoru only coos, letting you mark him up all you want. Pace increasing relentlessly, “Aww, my good lil’ wife. Taking me so well, huh?” Starting to rock his hips just a bit faster into yours, “Always knew y’would.” 

“Can y’feel me, right-.” Balls smacking against your ass, his finger tracing an invisible line halfway down your tummy. “-here?” Thumb stroking where he could feel himself bulging inside you, pressing down. Hard. 

You almost sob at the pressure, jolting - you should’ve expected that the yakuza boss would fuck so mean.

And shit you can just do nothing but take it, hips jerking wildly as Satoru pounds into you with reckless abandon. Clutching at his shoulders, the sheets, his hair - just anything. 

“C’mon~ Don’t run away from me,” he grunts, strained like he’s struggling to maintain restraint. Lacing his fingers on top of your head to slide you impossibly deeper onto his cock. “Jus’ fuckin’ got you, so don’t you dare run away.”

You can only nod. Eyes glazed, cockdrunk and letting him thrust so sloppily. “Won’t run away Toru…” you babble, “Wan’ you to make me yours.”

“Mine? Gonna be all mine?”

“All yours, Toru.”

And maybe you were an idiot, maybe you were a mastermind - because with a choked out little moan of what sounded like your name, Satoru’s pulling you both to sit up. The gravity makes you bury his cock deeper and faster into your tight pussy.

With the new angle, your husband’s hitting all the right spots easily, almost as if he knew your body better than you did. Veins rubbing so deliciously against your walls, shifting around your hips to fuck up into that poor, abused spot. 

“Ya like this, huh?” he groans, fingers now toying with your ravaged clit. Rolling it around harshly between two fingers. “Always knew this cute pussy could take me s’well. Just didn’t know it would feel this fucking heavenly.”

Faster, sloppier. Bouncing you on his rock-hard cock  like he was claiming you from the inside. So, so desperate and debauched.

And exactly where you wanted to be. 

You leave delicate pink bites down this pale neck, alongside those roses - marking him in your own way as you edge closer and closer. It was too much. Everything was too much. 

“Toru-” you sob. And he already knew what that meant. With how your voice breaks so adorably and the way you’re clenching around him hard enough that it’s almost difficult to ruin that cute pussy. 

“Close?” 

“Mhm…”

“Well then.” thrusts getting sloppy, with no reason or rhythm now. Grip on your body tightening like a vice. “Cum f’me like a good lil’ wife, then.”

And that makes you throw your head back in ecstasy - it makes you cum. Thighs quivering, jolts of electricity running down all the way from your overstimulated cunt to your hazy mind. It has you chanting Satoru’s name like a lifeline while his teeth dig into your flesh. Hard enough that you distinctly wondered whether he was out for blood.

Letting out low, muffled moans into your neck while he cums as well. Hot ropes of seed filling up your poor, bloated pussy, painting your walls such a sinful white. Cumming and cumming so hard you wondered whether you’d make it out alive.

And because of the obscene position, you could feel the way it dribbled down your legs. Thick globs landing in a pool on the overpriced sheets below, smearing so lewdly between you two. Hips still fucking up into you - not even thinking about it as he pushes his seed deeper and deeper. 

You managed to raise your eyes, still dazed to meet his - exhausted, and dark with lust and something else that you really weren’t in the right mind to decipher right now. 

And then Satoru’s lips find yours again, biting and tugging lazily. Tasting so unfairly of candy and sweet, sweet trouble. Body melting into you like all the worries have been lifted from his shoulders. He’s looping his arms tighter around your waist, crushing you into an almost-painful hug against him. 

Something soft. Something new. Something that makes a little part of your heart twinge to break the kiss and pull away mere millimeters. “We better not divorce after this.”

“Of course not.” He chuckles into your lips, resting his forehead against yours like he was trying to map the constellations in your eyes. “I haven’t even given you my wedding gift yet.”

Smirking, you lock your legs tighter around Satoru’s toned waist as he lets the two of you fall back into the mattress. Sinking into it - and each other - with both exhaustion and something of a quiet, unspoken little fondness. Batting your lashes up at him, “Mhm, I remember someone talking about giving me four mercedes as a wedding gift and I’m leaving if not.”

“Well then, better get to it. Four for my in-laws to get on their good side, too,” he nuzzles the bite mark on your neck. “Because I plan to stay like this for a long, long time.”

A/N. Plagiarism not authorized.

[gremlingottoosilly]

I met a guy in the Summer (dilf!Konig x fem!Reader)

Your boyfriend is an asshole. Luckily, his hot dad just returned from deployment. CW and Tags: Cheating, dub-con, size kink, daddy kink, age gap(reader in 20s, Konig is early 40s), Konig is a pervert, slightly obsessive Konig, love(and lust) at first sight, fingering, dom!Konig Word count: 3713 AO3

“Just one more game, babe, don’t be a buzzkill. I don’t want to end at a loss.” You didn’t want to be a buzzkill, of course. You simply wanted to be a good girlfriend, have some domestically cozy date, and for your boyfriend to at least try to put an effort into being with you. It wasn’t much to ask for, really. You hoped so, at least. You didn’t want to be an annoying, nagging girlfriend who only ever waits for another reason to yell at him, but your patience started to run thin. 

You spend the past three hours either listening to his apathetic rambling about the shows he watched – really, you wanted to invest in stuff he liked, but an abnormally large amount of animes he talked about had 1000-year-old girls who looked like they were 10, wearing inappropriate outfits, and you started to raise the alarm. 

You also watched him play – and also listened to his rage quitting and angry voice messages to his team that, honestly, made you slightly anxious. You never liked loud people, people who were so easy to rage about something as silly as some colorful video game with too many characters to look after. 

So, like a good girlfriend would – you wanted to be a good girlfriend, he was such a nice guy before you started dating, and you need something to think about besides the tremendous amount of study work you are doing for college – you decided to go and look for snacks. Maybe bring something for him as well. 

— I’ll find something to eat, alright? 

He didn’t respond at first, so you shook his shoulder. Your boyfriend took off his headphones with annoying look on his face, half-turning to look at you. You gulped, suddenly feeling like a child in front of the principal – not a feeling that you were supposed to feel around your partner, but with him, you somehow constantly felt like you were being judged. 

— Nah, stay here. I don’t want my father to see you. 

— Ah…your father is at home? 

You never heard anyone else being at the house – big house, you must admit, and it’s embarrassing almost how you never thought about his family. He lives with his dad, apparently, and the depth of your relationships can only be judged by the fact you literally didn’t know what his father’s name was. 

— Returned from his fucking deployment. He’d ask too many questions about you. 

— You didn’t tell him about me? 

Ah, now you’re hurt a little bit. You knew it wasn’t anything serious or too committed yet, but you intended to make this work. To try and fix all the problems you can without ending things abruptly. 

— He never asked. Not like he cares too much, but…

An apathetic dad, huh. 

You started to slowly piece together the puzzle that was your boyfriend’s horrible boyfriend skills. Now, you want to meet the man who conceived him and kick him in the nuts for creating such an unlovable human being who somehow captivated your chronically lonely heart. 

— If you don’t want me to come and meet him, I can go home. 

He doesn’t answer because his queue is finally coming to another match – you simply nod, knowing everything you need to. You can grab a little snack for yourself, fuck off to your dorm and rethink your life choices while your roommate is getting pounded by some gruss British bloke with an accent that makes your ears bleed. 

You have dignity, and right now, it has asked you to get some snacks from the kitchen. 

*** Now, the only thing König wanted after returning from deployment was to take as many hot showers as he could, shut his bastard of a son up, and get some delicious food waiting for him in the freezer. He was already home for a few days, but adjusting is always hard when you basically fucking hate living at your own house. Of-fucking-course, his son was watching the house while he was away – and now he can’t even think of a good excuse to set him off to his mother. Too old to do this, and split custody never really worked when not even one part of the relationship wanted to take care of the kid. 

König closes the door of the refrigerator – of course, his son took every good thing that he stashed for himself. With a groan, the colonel fights the urge to finally throw him out of the house – a thing he needed to do a few years ago, just when he celebrated his 18th, but some sentimental part of his heart instead promised to help with finding a place close to the college. No good deed goes unpunished. 

With a groan, he takes a few steps from the fridge – and then he almost stumbles across an angel. 

Scheisse

Now, König never thought of himself as a predator who prefers running after college girls who might as well be his daughters. He never thought of himself as a gut who liked them young – his wife, god forsake her name, was his age when they started dating, and he hardly had any sexual encounters with a person under 25 in the past few years. Well, not like he had any sexual encounters in the past years, but…

The thing is – he never thought he liked girls with wide eyes, pouty faces, and trembling hands who were holding a bag of his cookies that he carefully stashed away from his son. 

You are wearing something cute, a nice skirt and an adorable pink cardigan that looks so cozy and warm and soft, and he fights the urge to grab your skirt and simply lift it, You’re dressed up for a cute coffee date, and König has to double check if he isn’t dreaming and no one has decided to play a prank on him and send him a cute callgirl. 

— Oh! Sorry. It’s yours, isn’t it? 

You give him his cookies back – but not before your fingers fished another salty caramel goodness out of the bag, and you bit it. He looks at your teeth, at your lips, and glimpses of your tongue – god, he is an old, dirty bastard because even his baggy pants aren’t enough to hide his boner. You have no right to look this pretty for a man who hasn’t seen a woman in three months and hasn’t had sex in the past few years. 

You lick the crumbs from your fingers – it’s such a deliberate action that he can’t believe he actually sees it, and it’s not even something from porn he used to like. 

— Ja. You can have it. 

He would give you the code to his bank account if you asked for it. 

— Thank you, sir. I’m…well, I assume if Paul didn’t introduce me to you…I’m his girlfriend. Nice to meet you. 

You lick your lips and take a step back, pressed against the counter. He looks at the sway of your hips, a bit of crumbs on your shirt, and almost brushes it away with his hands. It would be a good excuse to touch your chest – but he can’t be like this, he has to keep his urges under control, or else his son will never forgive him. 

Yeah, like he needs a better reason to throw his useless son from his home. 

— Girlfriend? He never spoke about you. 

You look sad, and he immediately curses under his breath. For a moment, you look too fragile – too real. He can’t handle this look on a woman, especially as pretty and young as you are. You bat your eyelashes, even involuntarily, and he already prepares to give you the keys to his home just so you’d stop with such miserable expressions. He has a spare bedroom. 

He has his bedroom with a bed that would be enough for both of you. 

— Ah. Um. We’re…I guess we’re not at this stage yet. 

— Knowing him, you’ll never be, Schatz. 

You look at him immediately – you’re offended, angry, and sad at the same time. There is a certain stubbornness in your eyes that immediately makes him want to simply scoop you in his arms, lift you, and drag you straight to the altar – and here he thought that his impulses over getting married would be over after his first divorce. 

— What do you mean by this, sir? 

You look uncertain now, he can see this in your eyes – and really, knowing his asshole of a child, he is almost sure that Paul never once got you off, either physically or emotionally. 

Now, König never once considered himself to be a good man. He has killed countless people, overthrown many governments, and made shitty jobs for shitty people way more than saving hostages to help the good guys – and in the romantic field, it’s even worse. Wife, unsatisfied with his controlling tendencies and inability to feel normal love for a human being – and a son who hates him because, in fact, he never once wanted to have a kid. 

He looks at you and sees a pretty young thing, still in college or freshly out of, probably without a stable job and normal social standing – a good girl won’t be with his son if she isn’t stupid or extremely desperate for a relationship. 

The thing is, König is also extremely desperate for another warm body next to his, to feel a woman beside him, to love and obsess over someone – he looks at your pouty lips and shaky hands, at the way you bite the corner of your glossy mouth, and he almost wants to drop you on this very table and fuck you until you’re crying under him. He can’t do just that, of course. It would probably make you extremely uncomfortable and scared, but…well, quite frankly, his son doesn’t deserve you. 

König is. 

— I won’t sugarcoat it, Schatz. My son is a Scheiß Arschloch…fucking asshole, that is. I’m surprised he brought home someone as cute as you. 

You feel embarrassment collecting in your body. Paul’s dad is a…interesting man. 

Tall, broad, very muscular – even his baggy house clothes aren’t really concealing his extremely interesting physique from your eyes. He looks yummy and tasty, and you fight the urge to eye the bulge in his pants because you’re a good girl, you don’t look at your boyfriend’s dad like this. 

König has greying ginger hair, locks already curling slightly at the lack of cutting, and you fight the urge to sit on the counter and get your palm in his scalp, massage his head gently, and pull him closer for a kiss. You feel like a dirty, horrible woman – your boyfriend is in his room, probably enjoying his time on your “date” while you’re lusting over his father. 

Then again, this date already felt like a disaster. This relationship, too. 

— Paul isn’t all that bad, sir. 

“He at least has a nice dick,” you wanted to add but stopped yourself. Paul is tall and somewhat strong – if he weren’t sitting at his computer all day, you would call him even muscular. And he has a nice dick, yes, even though he had no idea how to use it. You liked the idea of laying with him, of spraying your jaw trying to fit all of this in your mouth, but his kinks and his sex skills being directly taken from porn…not really your thing. 

You look at König and wonder if they are similar in all of the places. He is his father, after all. 

König catches your gaze locked on his bulge and smirks. 

God, if he knew his son had such a cute girl, he would ask her to come earlier. He is two weeks off deployment and probably won’t take another long contract for a few months because they just upped his retirement payings, and he can afford to slack off a little bit, only visiting the home base for some training and instructions for rookies. 

He can afford to retire and never worry about money again – but he needs someone to make his days less boring, right? 

You look like a good candidate. 

— I’m sure my son was convincing, but I know him better than anyone. He doesn’t deserve you, Schatz. 

He is shitty at flirting, it’s not his forte – he can flaunt his money, maybe, show you in his wallet and bank account face first. He can just straight up ask you to be his sugar baby and suck his cock instead of doing your studies, but he can’t flirt and manipulate to save his life. Lying isn’t something he is good for, this is why his wife has left. 

— I…not sure we should be having this conversation here. 

You’re a good girl, and it’s infuriating. He knows that having someone in his bed shouldn’t be the end goal for his leave, but he wants you, and by the look on your face, you aren’t opposed to the idea. König doesn’t understand if he likes that you’re so reserved about it or if he wants you to be a bit more slutty – but he captures you in the space between the kitchen counter and presses you with his body. 

— You want to see the bedroom then?

Pushes you so close his knee gets between your legs – it might look involuntary like he didn’t exactly want for it to be placed here, but you aren’t dumb, you know what he wants from you. Like a good fucking girl, you’re too shy to give it to him right about now. God, sometimes he hates being so nice to people around him. 

— Sir, this is very…

He got you caged in his hands, body trapped in his embrace – you jerk your head upwards a little bit, staring at him like a small bird in the hands of a predator. He isn’t a strong man in regard of morals, he doesn’t see anything wrong with fucking his son’s girlfriend – if the girl is up to it. And if she isn’t…well, he better make sure she is. 

— What is it, Schatz? Paul won’t hear us in his headphones.

You know just how wrong it is, and you almost want to escape – his dick grinds on your pelvis through his pants, and you’re horrified to see how big it is. Excited too, of course, he is bigger than your boyfriend ever could be, and you don’t want to be a slut, but, oh well, not like you were in a committed and serious relationship anyway. 

Paul was seeing your friends more than you ever saw them – it’s probably a sign that you should settle for someone older. You did enjoy Lana Del Rey's songs, after all. 

— I don’t want to break his heart. 

— He doesn’t have one. 

You’re lost when he pushes his lips to kiss you over and over again – a surprisingly good kisser, and you give in because it was the first time in forever a kiss made you feel this good. His lips are sending electricity down your spine, you want to moan just from his knee, pushing on the softness of your cunt through that adorable skirt you liked so much – you feel so small like this, so tiny in his hands, you…

God, you feel like a slut, and you like it. 

Soon enough, you answered the kiss, your lips meeting his in a dance that made you feel hot, that made you feel like your boyfriend never could. Never thinking of yourself as someone who can fall so easily into the hands of an older man, now you know that he got you right where he wanted. 

You push your hand on his pants, trying to get the control back – but he stops you, a giant hand enveloping your wrist and pushing you back. With a surprise on your face, König just wants to kiss you all over. God, you’re adorable, and he knows that you deserve way more than being fucked on the rough kitchen counter while your so-called boyfriend is too busy dickriding his friends in some useless online game. 

— Not now, princess. You deserve better than being fucked on the kitchen counter, ja? It can come later. 

“Later” sounds like a promise, and you bite back your moan when he keeps pushing his knee against your cunt, making you throb and clench on nothing. He is such a gentleman, you can’t help but compare him to his son – and his fabulous ability to make you feel dirty after fucking you in the backseat of his car and tossing you to your dorm with your pussy still wet and messy after you didn’t cum. 

You sob, not from sadness, but from pleasure mixed with some weird, unnatural for you emotions – you feel weird, strained here like this, but you hug his neck and whisper something in his ear. Something, dangerously sounding just like “daddy, please” 

König is blushing, and he looks fucking adorable. 

— Daddy, ja? God, you’re dangerous, liebling. Going to get me in trouble with my son later. 

He laughs when he kisses you again, his hand slipping in your panties only to find them completely soaked – he knows you deserve a nice pillow and soft sheets under your body, and he pushes you up so you can hug his waist with your legs. You rely on him like a cute pet, and you’re so perfect in his hands he curses himself for not seeing you before. 

He is going to ruin you for anyone but him. Put so much cum in you, it will make your tummy bulge – make you his precious sugar baby, pay for your dumb college and make you move to his bedroom instead of some shitty dorm you probably share with four other people. 

He can be good for you – but he will ruin you for anyone else, anyone appropriate, every guy your age who clearly doesn’t know how to treat a lady right. 

— So wet for me…such a filthy thing, I didn’t know my son dated a whore. 

— N…not a whore, please…

He kisses you on your forehead, silently apologizing. You feel his crooked, scarred smile, and you push your face up to kiss him – you want to touch him so badly it makes you feel stupid. 

— Sorry, Schatzen. Not a whore, a good girl for her daddy, ja? So nice for me, too fucking young…

— W…we really shouldn’t… — Tshhh, don’t think about it. Thinking will only hurt your pretty dumb head. — I’m not…

— Quiet, little one. Let daddy handle everything.

He kisses you over and over, his fingers playing with your pussy – meaty digits digging in your hole, making you whimper from sudden intrusion. He is big, bigger than anyone else, just two of his fingers are enough to spread you as much as normal cock would, and even though you’re used to taking Paul’s size, you just know that his dad would be much, much bigger. He is going to split you open, and you will love every fucking second. 

It feels so wrong, you still aren’t sure if you want him to touch you like this. 

It feels so right, he is experienced and eager, pushing every button to make you squirm in his grasp. Your orgasm comes embarrassingly quick – maybe because you haven’t gotten off in ages, only miserable masturbation sessions and poor attempts at faking your orgasm made it feel real. Paul never cared enough to actually get you off – but now…

You aren’t ready for him. You squirm in his grasp when the pressure becomes too much, and he soothes you, two fingers still buried in your soaked cunt. You feel so dirty, so wrong right now – you are cumming on the fingers of your boyfriend’s absent father, and you love every second of it. 

Post-orgasm clarity makes you whiny and sobby, and you whimper in his shoulder when he gently lifts you in his hands. God, you’re adorable, and he knows that he just scrambled your brain with that orgasm – it’s good, really, he might just want to keep your pretty head nice and empty for him. Not like you would ever need to think in his presence, the colonel can handle everything in- and out- of bed. 

König holds you close, not allowing you to scramble away no matter how embarrassed you are. You are his precious thing, with a pouty face, and he will do everything in his power to make you squirm on his fingers again and again before he makes you his wife for good. 

So impulsive, maybe this is why his son is such an asshole – taking the worst traits of his father. 

— Don’t cry, Schatzen. You’re okay, it felt good, didn’t it? 

— W…we shouldn’t have. Shit. I’m sorry, it was a m…god, I need to tell Paul. 

— I’ll tell him. 

— No! — I will tell my asshole of a son that you’re my girl now, ja? And then I will take you to the bedroom, so we can fuck. 

— I need to return to my dorm. 

— And then I will dine you properly, okay? Sorry, Liebling, I know I should court you before all of this…but we can afford to go a bit off board, ja? 

He is smiling, so smitten and obsessed over just having you cum on his fingers once – you don’t have the heart to say no. Never did. You’re a good, proper girl, and Paul was never treating you right anyway. You feel dirty, yes, but somehow, it is almost right. 

He peppers your face with kisses, like a dog lapping its tongue all over your skin – you’re so concentrated on the warmth of his strong, seasoned body that you don’t even look in the direction of the doorway to the kitchen. 

Paul, however, looks straight at you, disheartened and shocked. 

— W…what the fuck, dad?! König laughs, kissing you once again – deep, hot, with tongue and loud, sloppy sounds of your mouth pressing into one another. You’re stuck in place, still caged in his arms like a precious little pet you are. 

— She’ll make a good step mom, ja? 

You don’t even register his hands slowly caressing your fingers as if he already tries to check the ring sizes. 

[lxnarphase]

the way of the househusband

☾₊‧⁺...cw : househusband!fushiguro toji x fem!reader, you are megumi's mom, flirting, playful banter, just overall silly and cute domestic life

☾₊‧⁺...lunar's note : just some simple lil toji hcs of him as a househusband! i need some sweet stuff of him without a lot of sexual stuff in it bc let's be real, in a domestic setting he's probably just a big clingy and mildly annoying bear husband

f. toji is never going to complain about being the one staying home, watching over the little gremlin that is megumi. he's got his own ways of bringing in money with that friend of his, shiu, but he's more than content to being the one in the frilly pink apron, cooking for you and the lil' man.

toji didn’t ever expect to get married, especially after how he was treated as a zenin. he didn't know much about love or how to connect with people, let alone you. but when you handed his ass to him with no struggle and a pretty smile on your face at the gym, he knew he wanted you. two years later and a shit load of aggressive flirting, toji ends up with you as his spouse and he wouldn't have it any other way.

so imagine toji's surprise when he's genuinely excited when you tell him your pregnant. he's excited but scared. him? a father? there's no way in hell he has any idea what to do, his own father was nothing but a piece of shit...so what if he turns out like him? but the moment you pop that big headed little fucker out of you, toji can't help but grin, that excitement of being a father and creating memories with this tiny little thing erasing all his fears.

whenever you come home from work, toji's usually in the living room with little megumi, who forced him to take part in the exercise part of his favorite kids show. you don't know how megumi, your one year old baby who still talked in little babbles, forced his massive giant of a father who could kill a man with a look to do 'exercise for baby,' but you know better than to question it when you see the two touching their toes in front of the tv.

sometimes, he's in the kitchen, however, wearing that 'kiss the cook' apron you got for his birthday. toji always wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you into a kiss, muttering a 'welcome home’ against your lips before poking your side and going back to what he was doing, proud grin on his face at the little screech he gets from you.

he's started to get better at dodging your hands when you go to poke him back, skirting around the table before going to scoop megumi up. “you would never do such an act in front of 'gumi, would you? what if he starts going around poking girls in their sides, hm? then i'll have to explain to his teacher that his mama can't keep 'er hands to herself.”

toji's got you there...so you back off, opting to press a kiss to babygumi’s little forehead, taking him from your husband’s arms when he makes grabby hands at you. you savor the betrayed look on toji's face, sticking your tongue out at him. he scoffs, rolling his eyes before going back to make sure dinner wasn’t burnt. he’ll get you back for stealing his son from him.

despite what people might think, there’s not really a 'dominant' person in the relationship. when together, the two of you give off some of the most intimidating vibes because of the sheer power the both of you carry. it's not even put off by little megumi, because if he notices his parents looking at you in disgust, he's gonna give you one that's even worse.

toji will never forget the day the three of you went to the grocery store, him in his usual black t-shirt and grey sweatpants, you in one of those same shirts and leggings with megumi in the kiddie seat in the shopping cart, eating from the little snack pack toji made for him. toji swears he walked away for three fucking seconds, and he came back to some...fucker getting ready to chat you up. it’s no surprise anyone that he gets pissed, ready to storm over there and make it clear you're taken.

however, it's clear you don't need him to step in, and damn, you look...really hot telling this dude off, angrily flashing your ring when he wouldn't back off. god, he wishes he could marry you again. toji doesn’t even know what you told the guy, and he's tempted to playfully ask megumi what happened, knowing his lil' man would try to respond in babbles and coos.

“he said you crawled out from the trash, toj, i can't stand for that! he could’ve done you some justice and said you crawled out of the deepest pits of hell, so I had to educate him on that. besides, he called you my boyfriend and I almost punched his face.”  “yeah? hm, i’m glad you didn’t, babe, we don’t want to get kicked out the store.”  “i don’t know, i think an imprint of my ring in his forehead would get the message across.”  “well, next time, how about we just kiss like we haven't seen each other in 15 years? not a fan of showing out to some dude, but i'd do it for you, sweetheart.”  “mmn!”  “right, lil' man? mama's so mean t' me, it's a good idea.”  “gumiiii, you're supposed to be on my side!”

occassionally, when you're at work, toji'll just talk to megumi, the little one nice and comfy on his chest.

one habit he'll never get out of is randomly calling you throughout the day when he's particularly bored and missing you. if you don't answer, toji will just leave you a message, usually about how badly he wants you to come home, groaning about how tired he is but he can't sleep without you in his arms, without you playing with his hair until he falls asleep. he's so in love with you, it's almost makes you dizzy.

you'll never forget the day you come home to toji and baby megumi in the front yard, crouched down around...something. parking in the driveway, you make your way over and see what they're looking at. it's...a kitten and a puppy, two tiny little things playfighting with each other. neither one of them say anything, just looking at the two creatures. you sigh, knowing exactly what this means.

"...give them appropriate names and make vet appointments. we aren't naming the dog 'hot dog' and we aren't naming the cat 'kitten'." "i told you it would work, lil' man."

all rights reserved © lxnarphase | do not repost, copy, translate, or alter my work

[sttoru]

Helloo, could you do a scenario where baby gumi can’t sleep because he forgot his favorite blanky at daycare. What would y/n and toji do?

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒. dad!toji x female reader. fluff. not beta read reader gets called ‘mama’. wc: around 600

“the little brat won’t sleep,” is what your husband says as he steps into your shared bedroom—the child in question right in his arms. toji sighs in defeat whilst megumi continues on wailing.

it’s been an hour since he’s tried to get your son to sleep. though, megumi’s stubbornness remains victorious; not without his beloved blanket.

“the hell do we do? kid just refuses to sleep,” toji continues. he walks over to the edge of the bed and sits down next to you. your husband clicks his tongue like he’s offended, “tsk. he even scratched me when i tried to pick ‘m up.”

your eyes travel down the length of toji’s arms before finding the little fresh scars. they aren’t anything serious, but they look like they hurt at impact. you know since you’ve been a victim to a toddler’s scratches before.

their strong grip needs to be studied.

“aww, that’s not good, ‘gumi,” you shake your head and jokingly frown at your son. megumi’s cries quiet down once he hears your soothing voice. he whimpers and blinks his tears away.

toji raises an eyebrow at his son who’s suddenly gone silent. he knows that your voice has a calming effect—it even works on the older man himself—but it’s still fascinating to see how easily you can take control of the situation.

“c’mere,” you coo at megumi. you take the little child from toji’s arms and pat his back softly. you kiss the top of his head repeatedly and hum the tune of his favourite song, ‘twinkle twinkle little star’.

toji balances his body back on his arms with his hands flat on the mattress behind him. he’s still impressed by how fast you managed to soothe your son, “hmph, how come he’s quiet with you?”

you glance at toji and catch him frowning—pouting almost. it seems your husband’s quite jealous of your parenting skills. or.. of the favouritism your child has, “heh, gumi’s clearly a mama’s boy.”

you decide to tease toji and he reacts like expected. the dark-haired man scoffs and rolls his eyes at your remark before scooting closer to you—leaning his head down to megumi.

the little boy sniffles as he rests against your shoulder. his big, teary eyes open and land on his father’s face that’s only inches away.

toji ruffles megumi’s hair, to which the little boy whines and huffs. the older man gently grabs megumi’s cheeks with one hand and squeezes them together, “ye gotta watch out, buddy.”

megumi squirms in your embrace. he tries to shake his dad’s hand away, threatening to bite it if toji won’t let go.

toji grins at his son’s sounds of protest. he can’t take megumi seriously when he’s all whiny like this. it makes the boy look adorable in his eyes—makes him want to tease him.

your husband clears his throat after catching himself smiling at the adorable sight. he continues his little teasing act by lightly nibbling on megumi’s cheeks, “‘m still y’r mama’s favorite, ya hear?”

you roll your eyes and giggle at toji’s words. it’s not the first time toji’s ‘fought’ with megumi over your attention. or over who’s considered your ‘favorite’. you know it’s all jokes in the end—but it’s entertaining each time.

“honey, he’s a kid,” you laugh softly as toji continues to tickle and nibble on megumi’s skin, making the little boy giggle but also squirm in attempt to make his dad stop.

toji stops for a second to reply. he’s got a cocky smirk on his face as he responds, “and i’ll fight a kid.”

. . . at least megumi’s forgotten all about his favorite blanket.

[yourmidnightlover]

forever?

pairing: mob!bucky x reader

summary: after being forced into a marriage you didn’t want, you become very cautious of your new husband out of fear of what he’s capable of when one of his employees makes a move at a dinner meeting.

warnings: anxious reader, threat of domestic violence (reader is just worried abt it), groping, please let me know if i missed something or need to add anything!

a/n: reader is very timid in this. i know a lot of people like a reader who doesn’t take shit and stands up for herself, but i often find myself in situations where i just shut down and don’t know how to respond… so this is kinda inspired by that feeling

two months out of forever.

two months of what seemed like wedded bliss from the outside.

in reality, that “bliss” included sleeping in separate rooms, never even seeing each other unless necessary to make appearances for either of your parents. 

the ones who arranged for this to happen in the first place. 

you were just glad you were able to have your time for yourself. you thought you would use the time to continue writing for your book, but you’ve hit a serious case of writers block. so lovely. 

on the bright side, he wasn’t as controlling as your few friends had made it seem he would be. 

they had painted this picture of a monster in your head. a man who would loom over your presence during every waking second. a man who was controlling and wouldn’t let you have a personal life or secrets.

so far, he’s been the opposite. 

for some reason, that still leaves you unsteady. 

because they also painted him in a very violent, angry, red light. 

but maybe he had a mistress. if that were the case, he truly didn’t respect you or your family. it didn’t seem like bucky to do that, though. he wouldn’t ruin a business deal that benefitted him so much. 

the reason you married him was because your father’s finance business was going under, drowned in debts while the only options were to sell to the barnes’ or the rumlow’s. the barnes’ seemed the lesser of two evils.

the only way to smoothly transition your father’s business to be under the barnes’ control without raising any question of your father’s capability was to marry. if any questions were asked about why your father sold his company, the not so good side of the finance industry would trample after your entire family. the barnes’ would get a new company and their many clients, while your family wouldn’t become entirely blacklisted by the entire country, would be putting your family under the barnes’ protection, and there would be less questions asked as to why the company had been merged.

you had a few months of “leaking” images of you and bucky together into the tabloids to prepare the public for the news of such a big marriage. some were photos of you and bucky holding hands while walking. a couple of you at a restaurant smiling. a few staged kissing photos… those may or may not have been your favorite.

those times spent with him, in all honesty, weren’t bad at all. going for walks together at sunset, dinner dates, feeling his lips against yours…

you had gotten to know more about his childhood that the tabloids didn’t feel was important to cover. his favorite subject in school and how he actually lost his arm so many years ago. you learned each others’ fears and worries in life. your favorite thing to learn about him, however, was what he truly wanted in life. 

peace.

a couple weeks after the wedding, a few photos of the reception were once again “leaked” in order to sell the “too in love to wait” bit that everyone had started assuming upon seeing the first few photos of you and bucky together. 

but all of your history with him flew to the back of your mind as bucky knocked on your office door. 

“come in,” you replied hesitantly, not sure what he wanted from you for the first time since your wedding. he stepped through the threshold and stood at the doorframe. 

“there’s a work meeting tomorrow,” his hand remained on the doorknob, so stiff you’d think he might rip it off the precious white wood in seconds. “the men are meeting at the house. i wanted to let you know. the men in this business, they expect marriages to be of the… traditional values.”

you nodded with understanding, turning to face him with a forced grin. “so i should play the part of the doting housewife, huh?” no smile in return, so you bit back your humor in turn for matching his serious tone. “what food should i prepare, then? and uh, how many guests will we be expecting?”

“whatever’s easiest for you,” he shrugged lightly. “there will be 9 of us there.” with one final look in your direction, he left the office and didn’t return to say goodnight. 

-

the next morning you got to work setting the house up for the 6pm meeting your loving husband was hosting. 

you had decided to set up a buffet-style table outside of the main dining room where the meeting would take place. for the menu, you settled on simple grilled chicken with quite a few side options. roast potatoes, asparagus, sauteed carrots, green beans, and rolls. 

you were putting the rolls in the oven when bucky got home, seemingly entranced by the smell of all the food, heading straight to the kitchen.

“it smells amazing in here,” bucky called from the archway of the kitchen. you jumped slightly from the surprise, but swallowed down the shock and another weak smile. 

“thanks,” you nodded to the edge of the island where a large chalkboard sat, your handwriting neatly displayed on the board that listed all the food to be had. “the menu. i figured a variety would be nice, and who doesn’t like chicken, right?”

“vegetarians,” if you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was telling a joke. but you knew better than that. “the men are coming in a little less than an hour. do you maybe want to change before they get here?”

you looked down at what you were wearing, a pair of blue jeans and a loose t-shirt clearly not worthy of someone who had married a barnes man. “right, of course. i’m sorry,” you finished setting the timer on the oven and ran upstairs to get yourself put together before bucky saw the tears trying to seep past your waterline. 

you settled on a black cocktail dress you had worn to one of your dad’s company events before the downfall… quickly swiping some makeup on to cover the exhaustion in your eyes and pulling your hair up to a more respectable updo rather than your typical messy bun. 

luckily you had become an expert at quickly getting ready from your time in university, as you were back in time to pull the rolls from the oven, but not before pulling on your apron. you’d be dammed if you got this stunning dress dirty right before this prestigious meeting. 

t-5 minutes before the meeting was supposed to begin and you could already hear lots of rustling from the formal dining room. you knocked on the closed doors before bucky opened the door for you. 

the men went silent as their gaze rested on you in the doorway. 

“the foods ready. buffet style?” your eyes didn’t leave bucky’s pretty blues, too scared to do anything wrong in front of his men. 

“that’s perfect, my love,” his hands gravitated to your waist before pulling your body taut against his, one hand moving a stray hair behind your ear before leaning in to whisper. “you look ravishing…”

as he pulled back, you were sure your blush was evident across your cheeks. you tried to hide it behind a smile, shrugging with a shy ‘thanks’ leaving your lips. 

“what do you say to my stunning wife, boys?” his hand squeezed your waist once more before turning to the other men, ‘thank you’s being echoed throughout the room as they stood and made their way to the kitchen to make their plates. 

in a matter of minutes, all the food was gone. you figured it was best they liked the food, even if you didn’t get to try any of it yourself like you had planned. 

you got started on cleaning everything up with earbuds in your ears, starting with the dishes already in the sink from when you were cooking. then, you were sure to place the dishes that the food was in inside the sink for you to clean before starting on wiping the counters, then sweeping, then mopping, and then back to the dishes. 

you didn’t realize that bucky had called for a break in the meeting, however. you were in for quite the rude awakening when you felt a pair of hands on your waist, but not the ones you were semi-familiar with. 

you turned around with a gasp, shock evident on your face as you tried to piece together whoever this man was. blond hair, blue eyes… definitely not steve though. you knew steve well and had seen him often. 

you pulled your earbuds from your ears in attempt to better understand what was going on. his hands were still gripping your sides, but you couldn’t necessarily escape his touch. you were backed against the sink. even if you could fight him, you’d likely lose to his strong grip. 

“is the meeting-is it over already?” your voice was so much more cowardly than you’d ever expected yourself to be. 

“no, no,” he shook his head. “just a little break, some of the guys were getting antsy.” you leaned back further, trying to create some semblance of space between you. “i figured i’d say a special thank you, on behalf of all of us guys in there.” he let one hand cup the side of your face and neck, his other hand trailing down from your waist, firmly grasping your ass with a sqeeze before you jumped at the invasion.

“i don’t-i’ve got it…”

“john,” he smiled grossly, as if he could convince you to go to bed with him.

“no need for a thanks,” you tried to remind him. “i did this for bucky. for my husband.” your eyebrows rose, trying to emphasize that his boss was also your husband. 

“i’m sure he won’t mind you getting a little bit of extra special attention, don’t you?”

then, a growling voice cut through the fear running through your veins. 

“i think he might mind.”

you turned to face bucky with wide eyes before facing john, wishing the tears welling in your eyes would just go away. 

his hands slowly retracted, stepping back with a chuckle.

“sorry, sir,” he smiled before turning to face your husband. “she was just telling me how she wanted some extra attention, weren’t you, toots?” he tilted his head expectantly.

your mouth opened, nothing leaving in spite of your brain screaming at you. what would bucky do? would he take his side? would he believe you? would he hurt you? 

you’ve embarrassed him now… humiliated him in his own home. surely he’ll take action against you for this. 

your mind replayed stories your old friends had told you about him. how he would lash out at men that betrayed him. how he never took shit from anyone who showed him any disrespect. how he was the kind of man to shoot first and ask quesitons later.

and now, in a way, you’ve both betrayed and disrespected him. or at least, that’s what he’ll think. 

you didn’t even realize tears were flowing down your face until your sobs were interrupted. 

“enough!” you finally looked at bucky before his eyes softened for a second before walking closer to you. “go to the room.” he ordered sternly. 

“but the dish-”

“i’ll take care of it,” he interrupted gravely, “go. to. the. room.” 

“yes, sir,” you nodded and swiftly left the room entirely, collapsing against the door once you had shut it, sobs wracking your body. you held your knees against your chest before trying to regulate your breathing.

he won’t hurt you.

he has to protect his image.

you’ve embarrassed him.

you’re his wife.

you’re his business deal.

you’ve humiliated him.

he’ll hurt you.

you didn’t know how long it had been since the incident. 

your sobs had subsided. you had, at some point, moved to your bed. you were still rocking your body back and forth, trying to self sooth. 

and then there was a knock at the door. 

your body instinctively jumped at the sudden noise, although it wasn’t harsh in any manner, at least not one that you were expecting. 

he twisted the knob, slowly opening the door with slow movements. 

“i-i’m so sorry,” you began apologizing as soon as he stepped through the threshold into your room. “i swear-i swear i didn’t tell him that. i didn’t even realize he was there, i promise. i wouldn’t lie to you. i’m so sorry, i’m so sorry. please believe me.” your body was still rocking and you didn’t even notice he was as close to you as he was until you saw his hand moving by your head.

automatically, you assumed the absolute worst, your head ducking into your body like a fucking turtle, the meekest squeal leaving your lips mixed with a sob. your arms went over your head protectively, as if a bomb were about to go off.

“sweetheart,” his voice sounded so broken, so torn, so unexpectedly soft. 

you finally looked at him for the first time since he came in your room. his flesh hand was holding his metal one as if it were something that could kill. in ways, it was. 

“you-there’s no need to…” after looking at him for a second longer, you noticed that his eyes had tears that almost mirrored your own. “i would never, ever lay a hand on you. i’m so sorry for scaring you. i can’t…” he sighed. “i can’t believe i made you believe i’d ever hurt you.”

“i’m sorry,” you pleaded with him once again. 

“you have nothing to apologize for,” he hesitated to reach for your hands before settling on simply grabbing a spare pillow. “i came up here to apologize. for my tone earlier… i know john. he never knows his boundaries. i should’ve… you never should’ve been put in that situation. that’s my fault. that’s on me. and i will spend the rest of forever to make it up to you.” 

“you don’t have to-”

“no, my love,” he shook his head. “can i-can i hold your hands? please?” you, without hesitation, grabbed his hands yourself. “i need to make it up to you. you’re mine. you’re my wife. it’s my job to protect you, to keep you safe. and to have someone ruin that? to touch what’s mine in my own home? i’m so sorry.” he brought your hands to his lips, pressing at least ten kisses to each hand. he was so gentle and careful it was a good thing you knew better than to think it actually meant anything.

you were surprised, to say the least, at how tender he was being with you. 

how could you have ever thought he would hurt you? that he would raise his hand and swing? that he would cause you harm? he was here declaring that he would make up this incident for the rest of eternity when it wasn’t even his doing… 

“will you stay with me tonight?” his eyes lit up at the request.

“are you sure you want that?” he became a touch more reserved. “i don’t know if it’s a good idea since you were worried i would…” his voice trailed off.

“i’m sure,” you nodded before scooting over in the bed. 

sure, your marriage was arranged and didn’t stem from true love. you may not have talked outside of when absolutely necessary. you might have even been terrified of him at one point. 

but now, the thought of forever with bucky barnes didn’t seem half bad.