#but I’m too scared to ask directly so! I’ll post here and let the feelings simmer

[scoutdolphin]

Hmm,,,

[bandgie]

I have never posted a writing on here but I thought I’d give it try

Smut!

So Cruel

Synopsis: You we’re never too fond of Miguel O’Hara. Though he was a sight for sore eyes, his temper was always unchecked and it had only worsened after Miles Morales escaped. You made it your mission to stay away from him unless absolutely necessary, but O'Hara has never cared about your feelings.

3.6k word count

He scared the living shit out of you. The way he walked, talked, how his eyes looked like it could cut through diamond, he was madly intimidating.

After hearing about the original anomaly, Miles Morales, Miguel O’Hara because determined to correct all of the errors and make sure all events happened to their respective times. Morales was a tricky one though, he had managed to slip through every spider’s fingers and go back to his Earth.

You couldn’t help but silently applaud the kid. You had lost so many loved ones for these so called ‘canon event,’ but seeing Miles try to find another way was inspiring. You secretly hoped he did manage to find away to prevent these tragedies from happening to anyone ever again.

You were nothing more than a messenger, not even sure if anyone from the higher positions knew your name aside from ‘Spider-Woman’, so you’ve been slacking on finding specifically which Earth Miles teleported to. It didn’t matter anyway, there’s so many other spiders they can manage to-

“Hey, O’Hara wants you in his office.”

You immediately sit up from your couch, whipping around to see Jessica Drew standing at the door way of your room. Her belly is pronounced, you’re not even sure how she can still walk.

“Now?” You ask.

She nods in response, waddling back to her motorcycle.

“I’m busy looking for the spider from Earth-1610. I don’t think I’ll be able to-“

“Not an option. And you know I can tell when your lying from your teeth right?” She says unamused. You huff in defeat and scratch your head nervously.

Jessica takes notice and pouts, sympathy taking over. “Listen, I’ll be with you okay? Hop on and I’ll take you there. Hopefully he won’t be too harsh if I’m with you.”

You look at her gratefully and trudge to her bike. She might soften the blow, but you know you’re in for a rough time.

-

The ride to Headquarters was too fast, you wanted to slow down time to prepare. Truthfully, no time in the world could prepare you for the possibility of O’Hara ripping you a new one.

You silently cursed yourself for not at least making small attempts to find the kid. You’ve seen how Miguel ran to Morales, how he showed no mercy, yet you prayed he would let one spider slip. A foolish prayer.

Once parked right outside his den, you and Jessica stepped off the motorcycle and she took on your hands in hers. She could be surprisingly soft when she wanted to be. Her fingers gently squeezed your reassuringly.

“I’ll try to do the talking okay? You haven’t been super deep into his work so I’m sure he’ll let you off easy,” she says softly.

You nod, feeling sweat begin the collect on your forehead. You pull away from her hand as you begin walking to him, keeping your head down.

You never directly looked at O’Hara. You hated how he looked as though he could see what you’re thinking. He never would directly address you either. The person in command would relay messages or you would sometimes see Miguel on a screen, but not much one-on-one talking.

You hoped to keep it that way.

You could hear the machine lower Miguel from the higher platform, and you could hear your heartbeat increase.

Breathe in, breathe out, breathe in, breathe out, you told yourself in an attempt to control your breathing.

It wasn’t long before Miguel’s was in front of you both, you stared at his feet while he began to talk.

“You can leave Jessica,” he says, voice sharp and cold.

“I think it would be better if I stayed,” she says calmly, “You can be quite scary sometimes ya know?”

Miguel snorts, “It’s not my problem how people look at me. You did your job now leave.”

You flinches at his harshness, yet Jessica only sighed as a response. They went back and forth for some time. Pity and shame began to creep up your spine as Jessica continued to take his belittling. You were hiding behind someone for your own dumb decision, let alone this someone was pregnant.

“Jessica,” you say, interrupting their argument, “thank you, but I’ll be fine.”

She looks at her worriedly and back at Miguel in plea, she gives her shoulder a rub and says an ‘okay’ before leaving on her bike.

It’s not long before it’s just you and O’Hara. You can feel him drilling holes into your head as you continue to look down.

“I don’t think I need to say what you did wrong,” he starts, “We need all hands on deck, every spider man and spider woman. Yet here you are making absolutely no progress. You haven’t been checking other dimensions since the spider from Earth 1610 left…” Miguel’s doesn’t stop listing all the things you did wrong, but his last question catches you off guard.

“Why?”

You briefly look up at him and look back down, “Why what?”

“Why aren’t you doing your job.”

The silence is loud, nearly deafening. You can’t answer, you won’t answer. Your putting not only your job at risk, but maybe your safety. “I’m not sure.”

“Look at me,” he commands. You don’t, instead raising your head slightly but keeping your eyes down. You don’t want to look at him, you can’t afford to look into his eyes.

“I said look at me,” your name leaves his lips.

You’re eyes snap to his, and you wish you had looked at his nose instead. Such a deep red meet your own colored eyes. His jawline sharp and check hollow. The main think you notice are the eye bags, guilt eats at you.

“Look at me while you answer me. Why?”

You take a deep breath and build on the courage to only speak a few words, “Because I believe in him.”

Miguel’s eyes narrow, “Believe in who?”

“Miles Mora-“

“Don’t you dare finish that name,” O’Hara snarls, turning so that his back faces you. He runs a hands through his hair and heaves his chest. You take an involuntarily step back, prepared to dash in needed.

He turns back to face you, slightly better adjusted and gets closer to you. It takes every fiber in your body to not move. You maintain eye contact, but a part of you wants to look at his plush lips.

“I understand where you might think he can save everyone, but he can’t. It’s foolish to go against what is our destiny. I don’t need to tell you that I tried, I don’t need to tell you why I started this whole Spider-Man Society,” he tells you.

Your fearful gaze turns into sadness as you recall his story. You’ve also lost someone close to you. Your fiancé who was captain of the police. You hated when people called you Spider-Woman, you changed it to Widow years ago.

Miguel just see your expression change because his does too. “I don’t want you thinking we’re the bad guys, or were doing this to hurt people. I need you to understand that we have a bigger responsibility at hand. So are you on my side or what?"

You let out a sight, "Why does there have to sides? Why can't we let him see for himself? Imma be honest Mr. O'Hara, the way you handled things was not necessarily in the best way."

You regret speaking you mind as you see Miguel get in your face, obviously offended by critiquing his strategy. He studies your features, eyes seamlessly exploring what you have as he looks back at your eyes.

"I don't need a no-name spider telling me how to do my job. You think I'm cruel? Join the club. All you can manage to do is sit there and look pretty. Maybe that's all you'll really ever be good at." Without warning he grabs your wrist and takes you to his lift, sending you guys up into the top of his office.

You follow without intending to, you were too busy digesting what he had told you. It wasn't until he flipped you around to see your backside that you started questioning him.

"Mr. O'Hara! What are you doing!?" You yelp, attempting to flip back around to face him. His hands were hard on your hips to keep you in place. You could feel the heat of his body and the hardness of his chest.

"I'm gonna show you what you're actually good at since you don't know how to do your current job properly," He answers. He uses his legs to push your feet closer together. Then taking one hand off your hips, he uses it to push the arch of your back down so you're sticking your butt out.

The position sends your heart racing, especially when he pushes his crotch to your ass. He gently slides himself up and down on you, fabric touching. You should stop him, tell him that this is insanely inappropriate and that he's being dramatic. Yet, you find yourself arching your back even more to try and feel him some more.

He chuckles behind you and leans down to have his lips ghost the shell of your ear, "Someones a little too easy. I thought I was the bad guy."

You shake your head, "I never said that. I just think you could've gone easier on the kid."

His rubbing stopped and you immediately missed the sensation. You let a whimper out and wiggled around to try and feel him. He gave you a playful slap on the ass and grab the back of your neck harshly, "Pobrecita perra, I'm not even close to thinking about finishing with you." He kicked your legs open and lifted one of them up to rest on his desk. Without a second thought, he ripped off your sweats leaving you in just your underwear.

Miguel knelt down and inspected your covered pussy. "Mmm, siempre me encantó el color rojo." Then you felt the warm wetness of his tongue touching you underwear.

You were already wet, so the friction of the underwear wasn't painful. It was annoying instead, you wished he had ripped those off along with the sweats. Miguel gave long strokes of his tongue up and down your pussy. He let his fangs gently nip at your clit which made you squeal. You could feel him smiling against you as he continued to work you with his tongue.

You started feeling hot, the remaining clothes too tight on your body. He was giving you exactly what you wanted but nothing at all. It was infuriating how he teased you through your underwear. You could hear how messy it was starting to get, and you couldn't tell if the liquid dripping down you thigh was from him or you.

Your underwear was drenched, and you moaned when he sucked your nub and pulled at it. He used his fingers to rub you and occasionally dip in your underwear to feel your folds. You pushed your body lower to have him rub more, to let him know you wanted him to touch your bare pussy, but Miguel was not letting up.

"Please," you suddenly begged, grinding against his mouth and hand. "O'Hara please take them off."

"I don't know," he teases, "Is this not enough for you? Am I not doing a good job?"

He harshly slaps your pussy, you jump and whine nearly on the verge of tears. "You are, it's so so so good," you praise him, "I just, I want to feel you more. Please Miguel, please please-"

You finally feel him pull your underwear to the side before he dives in. You loudly moan, finally at peace knowing you're getting what you want. You grind down on his face, reaching back to push him deeper into you. Who would've though all Miguel needed was a little bit of positive reinforcement to listen. Maybe that information will come in handy at another time.

"Oh fuucckkkk," you moan. He uses his lips to rub your lower lips, the softness was nearly enough to make you cum. You can't though, you need him inside you. To feel him pulse and cum inside, you clench around nothing at the thought of it.

He goes back to using his tongue to please you, dipping it inside of your pussy back up to your clit. You feel your body tense and the burning sensation build in your stomach. It threatens you to release and your moans start getting louder. You've been so deprived of intimate touches for so long, you don't know how you managed it all this time.

"Don't stop! Don't stop..." you repeat over and over, letting your hips abuse Miguel's face. It starts to build and build in your lower stomach. You throw your head back and bite your lower lip to suppress your loud moan. Then he's gone. The tenseness in your body disappearing and giving you a lonely pussy. You turn around and look down to see him with a malicious grin. O'Hara stands at his full height to look down at you.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" he asks innocently. Your eyes find his glistening chin and bruised lips. You go back to his eyes and you feel your own water.

"I was so close. I was almost there. Miguel I.... I need it," you cry, letting a few tears slip down your face. You weren't really sad, but you hoped you would get a few pity points for your tears.

"Is that so? I don't know if you deserve it. You've been lazy and no help recently. I'm thinking we should stop right here and-"

"No!" you shout. You turn to fully face him and touch him chest to Chets. "Please Mr. O'Hara I'll be better. I can do it and I can do more. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry just please! Please." You're ashamed of yourself. Acting like such a slut in front of your boss and swallowing your pride just so he could make you finish. At the same time nothing has been more important to you in so long, you need him.

He smiles, showing his fangs and all before gently pushing you away, "Sit up and spread your legs." You could weep from joy at his words. You obey him and hop up on his desk, careful to not fall off his lifted platform. Your underwear is still sticking to your skin, it's uncomfortable now, but you don't ask to take them off.

He walks towards you and kneels down again and you swear he was smelling you. Miguel moves your underwear to the side and plants kisses over your clit. You hum in delight as his lips travel to your opening, using his tongue to prod it open. You use one of your hands to spread your pussy more open with your fingers. He looks up at you in surprise, but he's more than happy to oblige to your request.

He sucks on the bundle of nerves of your clit, making sure his tongue coats over your entire pussy. You whine and involuntarily close your legs, trapping him between them. You move your hand to tangle it in his hair. You move his head up and down repeatedly, his tongue and lips eagerly listening to your body.

It starts to build again, and this time you're determined to finish on his face. You hook your ankles together and squeeze him close to you, making sure he has enough room to stick him tongue out.

"Shiiiiiiit right there, please don't stop please please," your chanting has him humming in response. You moan at the vibrations, feeling your orgasm coil at the top of your pelvis. Your body prepares for your finishing, throwing your head back and rolling you eyes to the back of your head.

It's ruined though, ruined by him ripping away from you making you nearly lose your balance. You were even closer this time, you could feel your pussy throbbing and burning hot. Now the tears in your eyes were very real.

"No! No, no, no! You said! You promised! I-"

"Shut up and hold your legs like this," he ignores your cries. He positions you so you're holding your legs by the thighs, opening them up and ripping your underwear off in the process. You're still whining to him about how he lied to you, that he really is cruel and ruthless.

He continues to ignore you and enables the suit to disappear, leaving him nude. Your complaints quiet as you stare at his physique. Huge shoulders but a small waist. His biceps could be the size of your head. You knew he was buff, but seeing it in all its naked glory was immaculate.

His dick was leaking, a fiery red at the tip and you swear you could see it pulsating. He had been edging you for so long, but you didn't consider that he was also holding himself back from cumming. You absent mindedly open your legs more, inviting him in.

He darkly chuckles at your body response, "Calling me all these mean names yet you're letting me through the front door."

He closes the space between you and uses his hand to guide himself to your pussy. You moan in anticipation, you're praying to God that he lets you cum this time.

The rubs the tip of his dick up and down your clit a few times to feel how slick you are. He must like it because of how he groans and the chills you see that appear on his arms.

"Please," you whisper.

Finally, you feel the tip enter you easily. You could probably take him all at once considering how wet you are, but Miguel was slow. He was probably soaking up the feeling of your pussy around him. Loving the way you clench around him and your warmth. He went deeper and deeper, and by the end of it you swear you could feel him in your throat.

You moaned loudly as he started to move, gripping you by your hips. Fuck, he just started and you're already going to cum. How could you not? He filled you up so nicely and you were denied two times prior, there's no shame in finishing so fast.

Your head went back, leaving half of your body upside down. You felt your blood rush to your brain as he started pounding in you. Whimpers left you lips every time he slammed into you, you could feel your entire body joint forward from the force of it. He lifted up your shirt and spilled your tits from out of your bra.

Miguel leaned down to put your nipple in his mouth before he started sucking. You gasped and pulled your legs even more back to give him space to do what he pleased. The sound of him slapping against you, your wetness dripping on the platform, his warm tongue. You're going to cum.

"Yes, yes, oh god, Miguel..." you babble. Please let me come.

And you do. finally sweet release leaves your body and you're practically crying from joy. You're clenching around him so tightly he groans your name. Miguel stops his movements just to feel you spread your essence on him down to the floor.

Your upper body is dangling off the loft, practically limp. You can feel your pussy twitching from such an intense release. Miguel pulls away from your tits and starts to pull out. Before you can whine in protest and sensitivity, he thrusts back in and pulls you down closer to him.

"Fuck, you've been hiding this pussy from me all this time. Deberíamos haberlo hecho hace mucho tiempo." It was such a low mumble you think you weren't meant to hear it. Your tits continue to bounce as Miguel keeps thrusting into you. Your moans start to sound like a man dying from thirst, and you don't care. Everything is so overstimulated that a part of what you wants to beg him to stop.

It's not until he lets out several loud groans to let you know he was going to cum. Miguel uses one of his hands to grip your throat as he finds the best angle to bury his cock in. He hooks your legs onto his shoulders and your arms grab his hips to steady yourself. He has you in a slanted mating press, a perfect position to stimulate your clit too.

You know you won't be able to cum a second time, but the thought of O'Hara filling you up makes you think you will. He makes sure you can feel his cock all the way inside when he cums, his dick pulsing. You let out a throaty moan as you look down to see where your bodies connect, seeing your stomach bulge from his size.

Whimpers leave your mouth and you're both breathing heavy. Miguel thrusts in a few more times to hear you whine more. He smiles when you do. He pushes your legs close your chest and pulls out slowly. You moan as you feel him slide out of you, immediately feeling empty save for the cum that pours out of you.

Miguel drops your legs down with little care, backing away from you. You pick your head up and feel the blood rush back down which makes you lightheaded. You watch as he throws you torn clothes away and uses his watch to put his suit back on. You're left nude from the bottom, "Do you have any pants I can borrow?"

He thinks for a moment and brushes the hair out of your face, making sure you maintain eye contact, "Yeah, but I'd rather you walk home like that." You hesitantly laugh likes he's joking, but the devious look in his eyes tell you differently.

"No way you're serious."

He smiles so innocently giving you a small wink, "What can I say? I love being cruel."

[verstappentime]

here's a snippet of the cherik dads (and then there's you) sequel idk if i'll ever post <3

(they had another baby! it's david! hurt/comfort! love! nina is about 3 here.)

Charles wants to weep when Erik comes in the door, Nina propped on his hip. He still feels so fucking weird, emotions everywhere, freezing cold from the analgesia, head fuzzy from the pain meds. They’ve taken David to the NICU, because he was too early, and he’ll get to come back for skin-to-skin time later, but Charles is so muddled and doesn’t know when later is. God, it’s so good to see them.

“See?” Erik says, rubbing her little back with one big hand. “Daddy’s okay. He’s right here.”

“Hi, Neens,” Charles says, swallowing the thickness in his throat.

She turns her head into Erik’s neck, holding onto him tighter. Erik frowns down at her, then at Charles.

“What’s wrong, baby?” Erik asks, voice low. He crosses the room, sitting in the chair at Charles’s bedside. She doesn't look up the whole time.

Nina lets out an aggravated sob, and Charles has to stop himself from ordering Erik to hand her over. “Daddy,” she whimpers, but she keeps clinging onto Erik.

“Don’t you want to see him?” Erik says gently. He’s such a good father, so patient. It’s started up the tears again, and poor Erik shifts Nina to one arm so he can hold Charles’s hand. Charles squeezes, letting it anchor him.

They can’t both cry, so he gets it together while Nina starts properly sniffling.

She was so excited to see you, I promise, Erik nudges into his mind. Charles thinks if he tries to respond, he might give Erik amnesia or something. Instead, he gives him a tight smile.

“I’m okay, bug,” he tries.

She manages a tearful look at him, all big eyes. Her cheeks are bright red. “Daddy,” she mumbles mournfully.

“There’s my girl.” Charles isn’t sure how long he can stand it, not being able to soothe her. “It’s a bit scary at the hospital, yeah?” She peeks at him a little more directly, so he keeps going. His head is still swimming, but Erik’s rubbing his thumb over his knuckles, and he can comfort his baby on autopilot at this point. “If you get too scared, Papa can take you home, okay?”

She shakes her head, scrunching up her face like she’s going to cry again. Charles rushes to add, “You can stay, baby, of course you can. My brave girl.”

Finally, finally, she reaches out for him. “I don’t think–” Erik starts to say, but Charles admonishes him quickly.

“It’s fine. I’m fine.” Erik looks dubious, but he stands up and hands her to Charles, who tucks her against his chest carefully. Her face is wet and snotty and hot, and she holds on tight and mashes it against his throat. He squeezes her tight, ignoring the leaden feeling in his arms. “Hi, love, I missed you so much,” he whispers into her hair.

“Daddy,” she hiccups. He can tell as he rubs her back that she’s starting to fizzle out. “Missed you.”

Chest aching, Charles kisses the top of her head. “I’ll be home soon, okay? I’m just a little poorly. The doctor will fix it.” He knows she’s not going to like that answer, but she wants comfort and sleep more than she wants to pitch another fit. He just keeps holding her, carefully away from where he’s sore. They’ll be a family of four when they go home, but right now it’s him and his best girl and the comforting knowledge that Erik’s here.

Erik’s in his mind, too, just faintly, fond and loving and a bit awed, which Charles doesn’t really understand.

When Nina falls asleep, Charles just about does too.

“I’m gonna let my mom have her one more night,” Erik says quietly, somewhere at his side. “I want to be here, since you can’t go down to see David yet.”

Charles lets him extract Nina, as much as it makes him want to cry again. He wants his babies, both of them, here.

Erik appears again after a moment, though, and sits beside him carefully. “If you rest, you’ll be able to see them soon,” he says, leaning down to kiss his temple. He’s not sure if he’s leaking emotions or if Erik just knows him. “Everything’s alright. I’m so fucking proud of you.”

“Can you just—” His tongue is getting thick, but Erik understands, sitting next to him and stroking his hair. Charles registers that he’s probably going to sleep at the hospital, too. Maybe he should feel guilty, but. The feeling of safety blankets him instead.

“There you are,” Erik murmurs, scratching his scalp. “Just rest. You’re so good.”

It works, because it’s Erik, and they’re together, and that means it’s going to be alright.

[candycandy00]

Choose Your Own Price Fanfic Commissions

I’m now open for commissions!!!!! 

If you’d like to request a fanfic from me, here’s how to do it! 

What You’ll Get:

A one-shot fic. I never even look at word counts and the idea of being restricted by such a thing scares me so I can only say that it will be a one-part story around the same length as my other one-shots. Look over my master list for plenty of examples (in particular, look over the requests I’ve filled).  

I can’t give a specific time frame but, depending on whether or not I’m currently working on something, it will probably take me around 5-10 days to complete it. When we discuss your commission, I’ll be able to give you a clearer time frame. 

What You Can Request:

All of the rules on my Welcome Post still apply. No minors, no animals, no scat/pee/vomit. I can do SFW or NSFW. Any genre (though I warn you that I suck at comedy). I’m fine with doing dark content like horror, gore, rape, etc. I’m fine with doing AU’s, sequels to my previous fics, anything like that. If something is a little too far out of my wheelhouse, I might have to say no, or perhaps “dumb it down” a bit. I’m not going to do a ton of research. Like if you want an AU set in a very specific historical setting, please don’t expect total historical accuracy. I’ll do my best to capture the feel of what you want but that’s all I can promise. 

I can do Character x Reader or Character x Character. I’m also willing to do “threesome” situations, like Gojo x Reader x Geto for example. But no more than two canon characters per commission. 

I’m fine with doing fem, masc, or gender neutral characters. I’m fine with any/all sexualities. I won’t write Reader as a specific race. I can do some specifications such as a chubby Reader, short Reader, etc. as well as some personality traits (example: shy Reader). But please don’t get super specific on the Reader if you can help it. 

I will write for the following characters: Shigaraki, Dabi, Mr. Compress, Twice, Spinner, and Hawks (My Hero Academia) - Sukuna, Gojo, Geto, Toji, Nanami, and Choso (Jujutsu Kaisen). If you want something from a different series, feel free to ask. I might not feel comfortable doing it if I’m not real into the character, or not familiar enough with them, but there’s no harm in asking! 

I’m also willing to write for general concepts like “Vampire x Reader” or “Serial Killer x Reader”. You must be able to describe the concept character (the vampire or the serial killer in the examples I gave) and possibly send image references. 

Price:

I’m very uncomfortable with the idea of pricing my work, so for now at least, I’m going to go with a sort of “choose your own price” system. Once you read your commission, you can look over my Amazon wishlist and choose an item to buy for me. In case anyone doesn’t know how Amazon wishlists work, when you buy an item directly from my wishlist, Amazon sends it to my address. You don’t have to mail it to me or know my address. 

I have a very wide range of items on there, in terms of prices. There are lots of things on there under $10. You can choose what to buy based on how much you enjoyed your commission. And no, I won’t be upset or offended if you pick the cheapest item on the list. 😄 There are some more pricey items on there because this is my general wishlist that  I show to family and friends around Christmas/birthdays. Feel free to ignore them. 

How To Commission Me:

Here’s how the process will work. 

Step 1: Directly message me telling me about your commission. Describe what you want, what characters you want to be featured, any plot/concept details you feel are important, a basic idea of what kinks you would want included, etc. 

Step 2: I’ll reply letting you know if I can do your commission. From there we will discuss it further and iron out all the details. You can be more specific about the kind of smut you want (if you want smut), things you want me to avoid, things you want me to include no matter what, all the nitty gritty details. I’ll also give you an idea of how long it will take me to do your commission. 

Step 3: I write your commission and post it on my tumblr (and maybe ao3). I can tag you if you like, or you can remain anonymous and I’ll send you a message when it’s posted. 

Step 4: After reading your commission (and only after), you look over my Amazon wishlist and buy whichever item you choose for me. Send me a message letting me know you bought something and I’ll confirm that it was purchased (Amazon will display it on the list as a purchased item). I’ll expect you to purchase something within one week of me posting the commission. Unless you have a great explanation, I will be unhappy if you take longer than that. 

Why do I want you to wait until you’ve read your commission to buy an item? Because my life tends to get hectic at the strangest times, and anything could go wrong and keep me from writing it. I don’t want to feel stressed and pressured because you already paid me. Also, I want you to be satisfied and to pick an item based on how well I did. Knowing that you can pick the price will motivate me to do my best! 

Even if you don’t want to commission me, I would greatly appreciate any reblogs/signal boosts! Thanks!

[idontwanttospoiltheparty]

I’m also a "Paul is not meaningfully attracted to men" person. He just reads so so straight to me (although I do think his relationship to other men in general is odd!). What did Paul think his relationship with John was exactly? What a great question, and I’ll give you my feelings which is I definitely DONT think Paul ever thought about it while they were together. I truly believe P+J were in an emotional relationship (I.e. they were basically on the dating level but without the romantic aspect) because Paul was doing so much emotional managing of John and John gave Paul emotional support. They both put a ton of unqualified emotional labor in to an each other that’s usually reserved for a romantic relationship (for men). (But I also don’t think either of them were super aware of that while it was happening. I think John knew there was an exchange there but didn’t really understand it till later). I think in the 80s directly after John died Paul went on a journey to figure out what happened in their relationship and I think he found things out that really shook him. I think he maybe realized there was a romantic element to their relationship (especially from johns pov) but then I also think he kinda rejected it after realizing it brought up so much guilt within him. I think he has slowly realized over time John wasn’t such a great partner to him but then he hates thinking about that so he vacillates wildly between love and anger and grief. I think he went through a period in the 80s were he genuinely thought “maybe I should’ve just … “ but can’t quite let himself think about it. I think he thinks I could’ve loved him enough to make him stay I wish I had but it was too scary he wanted too much from me. I think now as an old man he thinks I love him that much now it doesn’t scare me anymore I could’ve hugged him and kissed him easily I wish I hadn’t been so uptight (and I don’t mean that romantically). I think he romanticizes the times they laid in bed together because there was an intimacy there he deeply misses. I think John was the first love of his life and I think he’s realized it now (like now now) but it took him 20/30 years post him dying to kinda realize that. Again I don’t mean romantically I think in the sense of I put as much emotional labor in to John as I did in to Linda (although obviously much more with Linda). While they were in their relationship I think Paul only thought of it as like.. natural?? This is just how we naturally are. We legally own a piece of each other and so it’s natural I take this much interest and care. I think Jane forced him to question his relationship with John many times and mostly he dodged it but there definitely came a time where it scared him that people could think of them as queer which is kinda like step one in to their fractured relationship. Now I think he looks back on it like so what? So what if I loved him and he loved me (once again this is like a recent thing). I don’t think it was sexual for Paul but was it sexual for John? I think johns sense of sex was wildly distorted so any deep feeling was entangled with sex and certainly intimacy was entangled with sex (that’s probably also an era thing so Paul falls in to that as well) so I think John in particular struggled with sexual desire and intimacy desire being intermixed. Anyway that’s my analysis

(Cont.)

I know I said SO MUCH in that last ask sorry but also I just thought what about Paul and Sex? And I have to say I do think Paul’s relationship with John wildly effected his sexuality and sense of sex especially since they met so young I think John had a huge impact on how Paul relates to sex so to say it’s completely detached from their relationship? Err I can’t quite dismiss it! But I think it mostly comes across in Paul’s relationships with women than in with John. I just look at the dynamics Between Paul and Francie and Jane and Heather in particular and I think there’s echoes of John here. Idk what that means for Paul but!! Sex definitely plays a part but I don’t see it as Sex and Romance combined it’s definitely different quadrants.

Wow! What an insightful ask to wake up to!

I find myself agreeing with a lot of it, though I'm slightly unclear what you mean by emotional labour. I do see Paul as taking on somewhat of a role of John's carer, though more in an almost parental way, but while I think John loved Paul a lot I'm not sure what labour he was doing? He does seem to have played a role in calming Paul's nerves, as that one scene in Get Back shows, but it's hard for me to gauge how often stuff like that occurred.

Anyways! Here's stuff I really really like/want to emphasize from your take: (under the cut to not clog everyone's dash):

"I definitely DONT think Paul ever thought about it while they were together. […] While they were in their relationship I think Paul only thought of it as like.. natural?? This is just how we naturally are. We legally own a piece of each other and so it’s natural I take this much interest and care."

This! I also think it wouldn't be technically wrong to call the way they were natural. Personally, I think it kind of was. They spent an insane amount of time together, went through the one-way-door of fame together, worked on art together – which IS intimate in my opinion – plus there was that whole mother dying bond. So, I sort of get it, if Paul looked at his atypically close relationship to John and didn't feel like it was out of the ordinary in that way. Also great point re:"we legally own a piece of each other". I think it's kind of fascinating the way their names were legally tied to each other in a way that echoes real marriages. It plays a huge part in Paul's "claim" on John during the post-1980 Widow Wars.

"I think in the 80s directly after John died Paul went on a journey to figure out what happened in their relationship and I think he found things out that really shook him. I think he maybe realized there was a romantic element to their relationship (especially from johns pov) but then I also think he kinda rejected it after realizing it brought up so much guilt within him."

I definitely think this is possible, though I'm very on the fence about whether it happened. Either way, the amount of guilt that realization could bring about seems insurmountable to me. If I found out something like that it would be soul-crushing to be honest.

"I think he has slowly realized over time John wasn’t such a great partner to him but then he hates thinking about that so he vacillates wildly between love and anger and grief. I think he went through a period in the 80s were he genuinely thought “maybe I should’ve just … “ but can’t quite let himself think about it. I think he thinks I could’ve loved him enough to make him stay I wish I had but it was too scary he wanted too much from me."

I think this is a great point, though I feel a lot of that anger must have already come to the forefront when the breakup happened. What does seem to have happened since is Paul trying to understand John's mental health problems, in his own, kind of problematic way. I think this is the place his whole bringing up John's family situation shtick originates from: a misguided attempt to contextualize John's less savoury behaviour. And of course, the fact that John was deeply troubled, did struggle immensely with his own self-image, did have major abandonment issues does in the end make the guilt of not being able to help him more (by "loving him enough" or by getting him professional help that wasn't really available at the time) at odds with the justified anger Paul felt at the hurt John caused him. I think this is a seriously under-explored piece of Paul's post-1980 feelings for John, and I get why: Paul downplays it massively because it's a dark road.

There's also an inherent trade-off between Paul finally internalizing that John did in fact genuinely care about him and him subsequently realizing that perhaps John wanted more. It's deeply sad however you choose to spin it :(

And lastly, yeah, I've wondered if, if Paul knew John had harboured romantic feelings for him, would he think "well... I could have done that". Not because he necessarily genuinely desired it, but because it's so hard to imagine post-hoc anyways, and he just wants something that will fix it, and in the world of hypotheticals, anything is better than the reality we're living in.

"I think now as an old man he thinks I love him that much now it doesn’t scare me anymore I could’ve hugged him and kissed him easily I wish I hadn’t been so uptight (and I don’t mean that romantically)."

Yeah… Yeah. Again, this makes perfect sense to me. It honestly makes me kind of sad to see how tactile he is with Ringo these days. Like he'll give him a cheek kiss as a greeting and I just mourn the carefree intimacy That Could Have Been, y'know, that clearly he regrets not having with John.

"I think John was the first love of his life and I think he’s realized it now (like now now) but it took him 20/30 years post him dying to kinda realize that."

I do kind of wonder if him realizing that after the fact might also mean that it may in fact be somewhat revisionist of him to think of it that way. And that isn't to say that John didn't mean an immense amount to him at the time, but I guess the idea of a "love of one's life" is somewhat constructed if that makes sense. Like part of someone being the love of your life is that you think of them that way. So if he only began thinking of it that way after John died, is that the same as if he had realized it while they were together? I think this is an interesting question. In a way, Paul continues to shape the reality of his relationship to John to this day – which is not the same as lying or delusion in my opinion! It's simply that as he ages the lens with which he looks back inevitably keeps changing with him.

I think Jane forced him to question his relationship with John many times and mostly he dodged it but there definitely came a time where it scared him that people could think of them as queer which is kinda like step one in to their fractured relationship.

Could you elaborate on this? I agree that Jane probably called his relationship to John into question, but I've never seen anything indicating directly that Paul was worried people thought him and John were in a romantic relationship at the time (clearly, the rumours that cropped up after the fact have bothered him). I know there's that Apple Scruff report where just, after telling the groupies who hung around Cavendish that he would be marrying Linda soon and receiving blank stares in response, he exploded like "what??? you think I'm some queer who'll never get married???" but that particular story isn't directly linked to his relation to John. Is there another story I've missed?

That being said, I think Paul felt self-conscious about how John took it, thinking back to Paul being afraid dying George would swat him away for holding his hand. And we know John used to regularly disparage Paul for being "sissy" in various ways.

I think johns sense of sex was wildly distorted so any deep feeling was entangled with sex and certainly intimacy was entangled with sex […] so I think John in particular struggled with sexual desire and intimacy desire being intermixed.

Harrrrd agree on this. I think the Julia stuff really indicates this and it's just the general vibe I get from the way he talked about relationships as an all-or-nothing thing.

(that’s probably also an era thing so Paul falls in to that as well) […] And I have to say I do think Paul’s relationship with John wildly effected his sexuality and sense of sex especially since they met so young I think John had a huge impact on how Paul relates to sex so to say it’s completely detached from their relationship? Err I can’t quite dismiss it! But I think it mostly comes across in Paul’s relationships with women than in with John.

Also agree with this a lot actually! Both that the way they both put marriage on a pedestal is definitely a historical thing and it's true that makes the atypicalness of their friendship more ""questionable"" in that sense; it's one of the reasons I've never wholly dismissed Full Reciprocated McLennon™, because this aspect is somewhat better accounted for by that version of events. And yes, it's undeniable they experienced sex together, if not necessarily with each other.

(But Fiona! Confirmed circlejerks??? – Again, this is a fair point, but I do think this falls into the ambiguous of category of "could be gay – could not be" where it just kind of depends how the participants think of it plus how much they're actively thinking about everyone else involved and if so, in what way. If you personally consider it gay no matter what, then congrats, John and Paul had sex, but I don't know that Paul agrees with you and if he doesn't I don't think that would necessarily constitute denial.)

I just look at the dynamics Between Paul and Francie and Jane and Heather in particular and I think there’s echoes of John here.

Could you maybe elaborate on this? I find myself in partial agreement but I'm also not sure how much of that is just because Paul has an MO for operating with people in general. Also for the John/Heather Mills parallels, please refer to my Friend Hannah (@royaltyisshe64) and her pipeline theory lol. (Literally bless my tagging system for helping me track this down again)

All in all, thank you so much for your long thoughtful message!

[whumpy-wyrms]

🦇Masterpost🦇

Welcome to my whump blog! I’m Jay :) and here is where I’ll post my whump series, writing, art, and more! my g/t blog is @tiny-wyrms :3 !! Read my whumptroduction (whump introduction) for more info about me and my favorite whump tropes and squicks! There will never be any nsfw here.

All my art and writing will be tagged with #my art and #my writing, and my general whump prompts/drabbles will be tagged with #wyrms whumps! I also have a discord server!! Feel free to join!

My inbox is always open for questions or anything else! (sometimes I hold onto asks for a while, I’m not ignoring you, I’m most likely just busy or forgot lol). Feel free to ask questions directly to my characters or interact with them too! My DMs are always open, though I get nervous talking to people sometimes so I might not respond right away.

if you make fanart or fanfiction of my ocs i will literally love you (platonically) forever!!! but i only ask three things: nothing sexual, no hate speech, and don’t whitewash. thanks!

My Writing:

🧪 The Last Lab Rat: Dew's relatively uneventful and ordinary life changed when he was kidnapped by a mad scientist named Anton, who planned to use Dew as his new human test subject for experimentation. Dew, who is scared out of his mind, now has to try gaining his captor's trust while he slowly plans his escape, all while enduring experiments that make him not quite human anymore.

Also here’s the TLLR AU masterlist for extra content (CYOAs, crossover AUs, borrower!Basil, and more!)

🩸Blood Runs Cold: Silas, an eccentric but alluring vampire with a hunger for human flesh and blood, feeds from the corpses that are sent to his morgue. Aspen, a strange but friendly human, dies and wakes up in that cold morgue, alive and well, as if he never died in the first place. Silas, now with access to an infinite source of fresh, delicious blood, decides to keep this immortal human as his bloodbag. But Aspen isn't willing to accept his new life, not without solving the mystery of his death first.

Let me know if you want to be added to a taglist for anything!

Finally, please read my DNI list (under the read more) before following me.

Do NOT interact:

bigots of any kind (anti-lgbt, transphobes, TERFs, homophobes, racists, antisemites, sexists, ableists, fatphobes, etc.)

ped0philes or z00philes

if you sexualize/romanticize ped0philia, incest, beast!ality etc. (i.e. proshippers). fiction or not, it makes me extremely uncomfortable and i’d rather not interact with these people for my own personal comfort.

if you support/make/use generative AI “art” or “writing”

[erseac]

Venom

Explicit, Zoé/Marinette, a bit dub-con

“Okay, I’m sorry to put this on you, but I have a big secret to share”, said Zoé. Marinette looked up, interested.

“It’s a bit dangerous to know it, but Ladybug said it was okay, so… here goes. I am a superhero. Sometimes.”

Zoé let out a big sigh. Good to finally get it out there.

“Wow, that’s so cool! Which one?”, Marinette shouted excitedly. “Can you show me your suit?”

“Vesperia”, said Zoé. Okay, Marinette was taking this well. Ladybug had said that she probably would, but it was still a relief to hear it from her. She’d have expected at least a bit of doubt, but apparently not. Okay then, let’s give the lady what she wants. “Pollen, buzz on!”

The familiar yellow light filled Marinette’s room as the magic changed Zoé’s outfit. When she looked up, Marinette was staring at her with those big blue eyes.

“That’s amazing!”

“Thank you!”, said Zoé excitedly. “I still can’t believe Ladybug chose me.”

“Why not? You’re smart and brave and have a strong sense of justice. You’re a perfect hero.”

As usual, Zoé fell just a little bit more for Marinette. How could anybody not? The superhero suit made her feel strong, but Marinette made her feel powerful.

“So, there’s a reason I’m showing you this”, said Zoé, trying to think of the bullet points she practiced beforehand while Marinette’s smile was distracting her. “Ladybug is giving out the Miraculouses to various holders to practice their powers. That’s great, but my power is venom, I can’t practice that on my own. I need a human subject who is willing to get frozen. I know it’s a big ask, it’s super-scary, but Ladybug said that you would be the perfect-“

“I’ll do it!”

Read the rest on Ao3

As an author's note, I am posting this today to celebrate the second anniversary of @fuckyeahladybug's ML Kink Meme (so really this story is their fault).

This project was really the reason why I got into writing smut stories at all. I had been thinking about it before, for years in fact, but I always told myself I wasn't good enough and it was too scary. Reading the prompts on the ML Kink Meme and writing my own was very liberating. It made it clear to me that it was okay if stories were short, beginner-level, weird, wacky or self-indulgent, as long as I had fun. That was something I would have agreed with before, but that project really made me internalise it. I ended up mostly writing my own things directly, but I still love this project and want it to succeed.

It's no secret that it's still very much at the beginning, of course, but we can all change that by promoting it, writing prompts and most importantly writing prompt fills — not because we owe the ML Kink Meme anything, but because doing so and having it around is fun.

My specific suggestion here is to people who are thinking about writing erotica but are scared of actually doing it: Go there, look at the prompts, see if anything strikes your fancy. Maybe write some prompts of your own. Maybe fill a prompt that seems interesting, even if it's just with a hundred words (and even if it already has a story or its your own prompt, those are both okay). It doesn't have to be perfect, it can be weird and short. You are fully free.

And if you're worried about this being tied to a user name that people know, you can always do what I did and create an explicit-rated second account for this purpose.

[she-karev]

Out of Nowhere

Age Rating: 12+

Chapter: Six of Six

Fandom: Grey’s Anatomy

AN: Here’s the final chapter you guys. I’m hoping to post the next chapter by spring break. I’m in classes and busy AF so bear with me. I always appreciate a like and reblog.

Summary: Amber spends the night at Alex and Jo’s with Andrew accompanying her.

Words: 1829

I walk down the hall with Qadri, Helm and Casey who insist they come with me to find Andrew. I hold an ice pack against my already bruised fist that I used to punch Stadler. At least one good thing came from today.

If I wasn’t so scared Paul would confront me again I would be more annoyed than grateful that I had a village with me. The friends I had growing up were the kind who were looking for a good time and I followed. They would never get in between me and a dangerous man not like these guys did. The whole month I’ve known them I’ve done nothing but insult them and say repeatedly I am gonna beat them in an O.R. and yet they didn’t think twice before protecting me. It feels nice to have not just coworkers but friends who would go above and beyond for you. I decide in that moment to be more friendly towards them and more forth coming.

“Thank you, Casey.” Casey looks at me surprised by my gratitude and I don’t blame him, “I…I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t come in when you did…no I do know. He would have attacked me and claimed he was defending himself from the violent intern.”

“Well at least you got to punch him.” Helm says impressed by me, “I would go to jail happy I did that at least.”

“Taryn.” Qadri snaps at her and she quiets. Dahlia focuses on me, “Tell me you’re not gonna be alone tonight. I can let you stay with me for a few days.”

“I’ll come over.” Parker offers and I grin at him.

“Thanks you guys but I’m gonna stay with my brother tonight.” I exhale exhausted, “This fucking day I swear.”

“I can imagine.” Casey remarks, “That guy Dr. Stadler, how do you know him?”

I shake my head at that knowing it’s not my story to tell, “It doesn’t matter telling you guys why he’s harassing me won’t make him stop and it won’t change what he just did to me.” I notice that one of our own is missing, “Where’s Schmitt?”

“He’s spending the night in a patient room.” Qadri tells me as we continue walking, “Blood loss is pretty big and they want to give him the luxury treatment after he saved a patient.”

“Lucky him.” Helm says bitterly and I nod in agreement. I would take passing out in an O.R. after directly donating blood over the day I just had. We stop by the station where Andrew sees me and his face scrunches in worry. I probably look as awful as I feel.

Andrew approaches me and gently asks, “Hey what’s wrong?”

I swallow uneasily, “So many things.”

“He came to the lockers.” Andrew’s face forms into shock as Qadri explains, “He was in her face, calling her names and she punched him. Parker had to push him to the ground and threaten him so he can leave.”

“That bastard.” Andrew says in anger, “Did he hurt you?”

“Not physically. He’s too smart to do that.” I admit grudgingly, “But he did reveal every moment of my life and didn’t skimp on the parts that would make a good horror film.” I lift my ice pack grimacing at the purplish color around my knuckles, “And his face is evidence enough to get me in the slammer. How the hell does he know about me?” That part scares me the most, the resources he had to gather my whole life even the sealed records.

Andrew looks down guilty, “He said he had a guy look into you and find out what he could.”

I look at him in shock over this new information and not just about Paul, “You knew about this and you didn’t tell me?” I don’t keep the anger out of my tone.

Andrew’s eyes widen at my sudden change in demeanor, “I-I didn’t think about it I was just trying to distract him so he wouldn’t see you talking to Jenny. And I was afraid you’d freak out.”

“I was already freaked out!” I yell at him under my breath so I don’t attract attention, “This guy has been stalking me and was this close to running me off the road at least this little piece of info would save me from being humiliated in my workplace. You should’ve told me.”

Andrew tries to calm me down but I’m too pissed, “I know and I’m sorry, I was just trying to look out for you.”

I get angrier at that statement, “I don’t need you to look out for me. I have been doing that by myself since I was 16 and unfortunately, I can say that to these guys because thanks to that fucking creep everybody knows I’m the plotline in a Stephen King novel.” Andrew’s face falls at my cruel statement the others look on awkwardly clearly uncomfortable viewing the most intimate part of my relationship, “God! I hate this fucking day!”

Andrew inhales before speaking, “I know me too.”

“He knows where’s Alex and Jo live.” I inform him fearfully, “I-I can’t go there or my apartment or the on-call room. Aside from moving to another state and changing my name it’s just a matter of time until he gets to me.”

“I’m not gonna let that happen.” Andrew grasps my shoulders to calm me down, “I promise he’s not gonna hurt you as long as I’m with you.”

I scoff, “Is that how you want to spend your life? Attached to my side at home and work?”

“No that won’t happen.” Parker tells me to reassure me but it doesn’t work, “Tomorrow we’ll go to the police and get a restraining order on him.”

I sniffle at the predicament I’m in. All I want to do is crawl under my blanket and pretend the world doesn’t exist. But I can’t, no amount of daydreaming is gonna get this fucking creep off my back and Andrew can’t be with me every second of every day same goes for my friends. Even with a restraining order there’s no guarantee he’s gonna stop.

“This can’t be happening to me.” I say blankly causing the others to look at me in pity including Andrew.

Andrew looks at me in sympathy before responding, “Come on I’ll drive you to your place and to Alex’s.” I nod warily and exchange good nights with my friends before leaving with Andrew.

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

I knock on the steel pocket door and wait patiently outside with Andrew who has one of my bags in his hands. The door rolls and Alex is on the other side in pajamas relieved to see us.

“Come in.” We go inside and I plop my suitcase by the couch ready for bed, “Did you have any trouble on the way?”

“No.” I sit on the couch and take my boots off, “I think he got the message after I punched him to Kingdom Come.”

Alex looks at me shocked, “You punched him?”

“Yeah.” I hold up my bruised hand as evidence, “Don’t even bother lecturing me because what’s done is done and no amount of scolding will take it back.”

“I just have one question.” I motion for him to ask, “Did you put your weight on it?”

I snort at that, “Of course I did.” Alex nods approvingly and makes a fist at me encouraging me to bump it. I roll my eyes but grin and fist bump him in victory. I look at the bed and see that Jo is deep in sleep no doubt crashing from the events of today, “How is she?”

“Awful.” Alex says in pity and I feel bad for him, “DeLuca thanks for driving her here I know…this is probably the last place you want to be at.” I mentally groan as I remember this loft is where the scene of the crime took place. I fully expect Andrew to drop my bags and head on his merry way but I see he’s shaking his head.

“No worries man.” I’m shocked by how cavalier he sounds being back at the place he was beat up, “I’d rather she be here than back at that small death trap she calls an apartment.”

I roll my eyes at his unfortunately true comment on my living quarters, “Yeah well Zillow isn’t reliable when it comes to apartments with high accommodations for interns with terrible credit. Speaking of which the laundry machines in my building have been broken for a week so…” I open my suitcase revealing the dirty clothes I desperately need to wash, “Where’s your washer and dryer?”

Alex grins slightly and shows me where the laundry machines are so I can get started. The simple act of washing and drying my clothes keeps my mind off the fact that Paul could be right outside waiting for the moment to strike. I get my black sweatpants and blue sweater knit top and set the couch up with pillows and blankets for the night. Satisfied with the arrangement I set myself up on the couch getting ready for bed. I look to see Andrew putting a blanket mat and pillow on the floor by the couch before sitting down to my confusion.

“What are you doing?”

Andrew looks up at me from his spot, “I’m sleeping on the floor.”

“No, you’re not.” I state and pull my blanket back on the surprisingly roomy couch, “Come on get in here.”

Andrew looks uncomfortable and looks behind the couch. I look in that direction and see Alex and Jo who are curled up in bed. I understand now why he’s hesitant to sleep in the same bed which makes me roll my eyes. I give a ‘really?’ look at the guy who shrugs.

“For god sakes man it’s 2017.” I keep my couch open to him, “We’re both adults and it’s way too late to act like we haven’t slept in the same bed.”

“It’s weird.”

“It’s only weird if you make it weird.” I inform him and pat on the couch, “Now get in here or I’ll get on the floor with you, either way we’re gonna be huddled together so it might as well be in a semi comfy couch. I have had a long day and what will make me feel better is you lying down with me and holding me.”

Andrew sighs in defeat before standing up and lying on the couch with me practically squished in the back. I make space by moving closer to him so that my head is pillowed on his chest and my arm is draped over his ribcage. He holds me close to him with his arm around my shoulders that I find comforting. Finally for the first time in two days I sleep blissfully on my brother’s couch huddled up against this man and forget about the world for tonight.

[tiredkittykat]

Hitoshi x OC fic sample

So um I've been reading more fanfiction and I wanted to try my hand at it. I don't feel comfortable trying to write x reader yet because I feel like I'm being too specific with the writing and not broad enough for an x reader everyone can enjoy.

So! This is a sample of a fic I'm working on for an OC x Hitoshi Shinso story that's been rumbling around in my brain.

Hanako Honda is my OC and if you don't want to look at my pinned post her Quirk is called Cat-like. Think Mirko or Tsuyu...but cat.

Anyways let me know if you like it or if you have pointers!

_____________

Hitoshi burst through the hospital door, panting . As soon as he’d heard the news from the Agency he came directly to the hospital from his patrol shift, using his scarf to swing him through the city at break neck speeds.

He marched up to the front desk already noting the sudden fear and surprise in the receptionist eyes. “NightCat. Where is she? She was brought in last night.” Last night. They’d kept this from him for a full 24 hours. He thought she was still on the away mission with Chargebolt and Red Riot…

“I’m sorry but I can’t let you in unless you’re family.” The nurse stuttered out and he debated using his Quirk. Honest to God debated it. He shouldn’t be mad, she was just doing her job. The nurse had no idea who he was and didn’t know his Quirk so would it really hurt-

“MindJack.” Oh?.

He turned to see a figure approaching. The slight limp in his step due to his prosthetic and the grizzled demeanor actually gave him comfort at this time. “Eraser.” His anger simmered slightly as his mentor, boss, and dare he say father figure stood next to him and addressed the receptionist.

“He’s with me, he’s the one I’ve been waiting for.” The nurse nodded and called to someone over the phone.

“One moment and I’ll have an escort take you.” She smiled at Aizawa. The smile dropped slightly when she looked at Hitoshi and he felt a twinge of shame at scaring the poor woman. He wasn’t in his right mind right now, having just come off a 12 hour patrol shift and getting his ass kicked by his insomnia the night before.

“You need to evaluate your emotions right now. You’re not being logical and you’re letting your panic take over.” Why did he have to sound like such an old man giving sage advice. “Take a breath.” Hitoshi was transported back to times after training sessions where he left his negative thoughts get the better of him. He took a quiet intake of air, holding it, and letting it out again. He opened his eyes and he was embarrassed to say he did feel slightly better.

“Sorry..past few hours have been rough. ‘m not thinking straight.” He turned to apologize to the receptionist again just as the security escort arrived. The receptionist nodded and thanked him before addressing the security officer and telling him the room number.

The group was silent on the walk up. Hitoshi wanted to ask Aizawa what happened on the mission. The team wasn’t supposed to be back for another two days, but with the guard here he kept his mouth shut. They could never be too careful in his line of work.

“Chargebolt is inside the room already.” The guard spoke up in the silence. “He is not to be near the bed, his sparks already shorted the machines once today.” Hitoshi flashed his eyes to Aizawa who stared ahead. Denki didn’t spark off like that unless he was nervous. The guard stopped in front of an unlabeled room and nodded towards the door before turning to face the hallway.

Aizawa opened the door and they both walked inside . As they stepped in they saw Kaminari sitting in the chair beside the bed, definitely *not* where he was supposed to be. He jumped up on his feet to meet them. “Shinso!” oh? Denki hadn’t used his last name in a long time. Hitoshi would roll his eyes whenever he used a nickname but never told him to not use them. “Shinso I’m so sorry man! I just- she just came out of nowhere and-!”

“Easy Denks..” Hitoshi put his hands up at Denki’s verbal vomit. He could see the relief In Denki’s eyes at his nickname and his neutral tone. “You did everything you could, I know that.” He spoke softly and ushered Denki back down to his chair.

Denki sat and took a breath, trying to calm himself down as well. “I just…I’m sorry.”

Hitoshi patted his friends shoulder before turning around to see what he had been avoiding since he came in.

Her hair had been braided, probably Denki’s doing, the dark strands plaited down and over her shoulder. Her eyes were closed but there was movement beneath her lids like she was dreaming. Her face was more pale than usual but she looked peaceful, like she was only sleeping and needed a nudge to wake up. Cords disappeared under the gown she wore and her blanket leading to the monitors tracking her vitals.

He took his hand and nudged hers that was sitting over the blanket, no response. “What happened?” Hitoshi looked at Denki over his shoulder, he looked like the guilt was eating him alive.

“It was all going according to plan.” He glanced at Aizawa here. “They all had eyes on me and Kirishima.” ‘They’ being the thugs at the hideout they had planned to raid. “She had slipped in and got the information we needed in the meantime. Her route was clear and she was on her way back to us when some of the dealers started using the Trigger they were making to fight back.” He glanced at Hana and then rubbed his arm. He chuckled and then looked up at Hitoshi. “I can tell shes been working with you a while, she uses some of your moves and damn Kitty Girl has claws.”

Hitoshi couldn’t help a smirk that came when he said that. After a few years of fighting by someone you start to pick up their habits or in this case fighting styles.

Denki frowned again as he kept going. “Kirishima was fighting with this big guy and I was trying to keep others off him and keep my own ass from being surrounded. Hana was moving so fast between them I couldn’t keep track even if I tried. The big guy landed a punch on Ei and he went down and a bunch of them tried to pounce on him so I sent lightning but while I was sending it out I didn’t see the guy behind me.” He dragged a hand down his face. “by the time I turned around he was shooting this smoke cloud at me and just before it hit me she dived in front of me. She stayed standing for about three seconds before she said ‘take us home’ and passed out.”

The room was silent after that. Hitoshi ran his eyes over her form again, looking for any movement besides her chest rising and falling, nothing. “Do we know what the quirk was?”

“Some kind of sleeping quirk. Normally the effect lasts about an hour but since the man was on Trigger we don’t know how long it will last.” Aizawa was curt as always but something was different. Hitoshi stared hard at him before he continued, “also normally the affected can be woken up with aggressive stimulation like a shock or pain. In this case that doesn’t seem to be working.”

Denki held up a finger, lightning curling around it. “I tried in the field before we left, she didn’t even flinch.”

[toiletwipes]

simpbur's college roommate

tw: obsession, possessiveness? not really tbh, simpbur is caught, overstim, vibrator, afab body, vaginal penetration, pretty boy is thrown around and so is good boy, praise, maybe a tiny bit degrading, im just a little bit scared to look through this to check for anything else. its not bad but im just scared i'll delete this if i dont post it now.

1.7k words, so not that long but I promised you guys content so here it is!

-----

it was the smaller things, really.

you wouldn’t notice them, if you weren’t looking for them, type of deal. a shirt that fits you just a little bit too snug so it sits in the back of your closet, or did. an old polaroid with an older friend, faces smiling into the flash of light, it had sat in the bottom of your old memory box, said box gone untouched by you for months. an oversized, raggedy hoodie that you had ditched for a newer, softer coat.

you didn’t want to believe it but at the moment you had bigger fish to fry with schoolwork.

the coat from before sat in your lap at the moment, you parked yourself in the library as you studied with a close friend for some government essay, and you were just nearly finished with the second to last page, when your friend spoke up.

she taps on your arm, pulling out your earbud, “hey, your roommate is will, er, wilbur, right?” you stopped in the middle of a word, lifting your head to meet her eyesight.

“yeah, why? he being creepy or something?” you ask, hoping for a no, he wasn’t bad, but you knew that if anybody else had been his roommate, he would've found himself in trouble during the first week alone.

“no, actually, it’s just- it’s just that, um, are you guys dating?” you snorted, really? you and him? dating?

“he’s cute, but no, why d’ya ask?” you laugh to yourself as you look into your notes as you start typing again.

“well, he’s just been wearing your hoodie, like a lot.” you still, eyebrows furrowing. your hoodie?

“how do you know it's my hoodie?” you look her in her eyes, folding your arms together as you lean back.

“i know for sure its your hoodie because it has that one bleach stain on the front and on the shoulder from when you said you could wear a hoodie and bleach your hair, and the time that you spilt bleach directly onto your hoodie and panicked for five minutes before doing something about it. i know it's yours so why is he wearing it?” your mind is blank as you stuff your things back into your backpack, her sputtering with questions and your lack of answers leaving much to be desired.

but as you exit the building, you shrug your coat as it starts to pour and the dark sky flashes for a moment. you rush in your walking to get to the dorms as soon as possible. just your luck that your dorm is on the other side of the campus. its still about five minutes before you bang on your dorm room. the music blasting on the other side silences as your roommate opens the door, his mouth drops into a round circle and you stare at his chest as you push past him.

“where the hell have you been? it’s barely been pouring!” he sounds off like a rattled hen but you head straight to your room, dumping your backpack and coat on your bed. without an answer, he follows you but any questions he has dries in his mouth as he watches you dig in your closet. pulling a ratty tee shirt and shorts you shrug your soaked shirt over your head.

will has to force himself out of the room but it's not a second later when you come out, hair wet and skin damp when you grab onto his head of hair and pull as you drag him to his room.

throwing him onto the bed, you barely glanced at his face, seeing it already being covered in tears, hands grasping for yours as it leaves him.

you glance around his room before you see the one clean area, his nightstand and dig through that. you found not only items you knew were missing but more, underwear you thought you'd thrown away, a vibrator that you'd thought had gotten stolen by a petty friend, not an obsessive roommate.

and then throwing his closet open, you saw it balled up and thrown in the corner, your hoodie.

taking it out, you push it into will's chest. "dude, literally, what the fuck?" you go to shout at him more but he moves onto his knees, tears dripping and pouring down his cheeks, begging for you to not leave.

"i know i'm a creep, a disgusting one at that, but please don't- please don't leave me, no one's been this nice and stayed with me for this long," he begs and continues to beg as you stand at the foot of his bed, watching as he took a hold of your forearms, rubbing circles into them.

you clasp a hand over his mouth as you coo, shushing him and smoothing over his hair with your other hand.

"my dirty, little stalker doesn't want me to go, but who said i was going to let you leave?" you then pull back on his hair, relishing in the guttural moan that is ripped from his throat, attaching your lips to his neck and climbing into lap, grinding down into the growing bulge in his sweats.

he moans out your name, hands finding purchase wherever he can, gripping your hip and your shoulder, trying to thrust up and meet your hips but you move your hands to hold his hips down.

"no, no, no, good boys take what they're given, that much you've proven, will," you murmur in his ear, slowing the rolls in your hips and watching him writhe beneath you.

"be a good boy for me, huh? are you my pretty boy?" he sobs out a yes as you grind down hard on his cock, the praise going straight to his dick as you mouth bruises into his neck. sucking particularly hard his hands come and circle around your waist, his head hanging onto your shoulder.

"please, please let me-"

"oh no, baby, tonight, it's all about you," you pause, standing up and hearing that beautiful whine pulled from his throat, "your punishment for being a dirty, little whore who wanted all my things for yourself, all of me without me." he shook his head, eyes barely opening as he reaches for you, but you've gone to his nightstand and pulled out the vibrator, turning it on and off and finding it surprisingly still working. well, not that surprising.

"now, you're gonna be a good boy and let me take care of you, or you can be alone," he reaches for you, begging you not to leave him and you can't say you weren't that affected.

something about this tall, greasy simp of a man, who stole your things and wears your old hoodie, begging for you not to go, it just settled nicely in the bottom of your stomach.

you weren't denying you were absolutely soaked by now, shoving your shorts off.

"please, i'll- your good boy, be so good for you-" he cuts himself off as you climb back to straddle his lap, this time rolling your hips once before you turn your vibrator on.

"good, so good for me," you hum as you place the vibrator between your panty-clad folds and his sweatpants-covered-cock. the vibrations sent you to a different plane as you grind into him, listening to the way he cried and the way his legs trembled.

you could tell the next moment, he was about to cum and well, you can't have that, not so soon. "ah, ah, ah," you breathe out, taking the vibe away as you lean back and away from his dick.

he lurched forward and his legs shake again as he's denied an orgasm, he cries out and into your neck.

"is my baby ready for ten more of these?" you ask him and his eyes snap wide open, meeting yours and when a moment passes and you press the vibe back against his dick, he whines.

you weren't kidding about before, it's been about an hour, you think, and he's buried his face in a pillow, crying from the over-stimulation and from not cumming.

you, yourself, have occupied your time with stretching yourself out, three fingers buried deep into your pussy and the sounds coming from it has will peeking out from the pillow, eyes sparkling with that crying glow.

taking your fingers out, and sticking them into his mouth, you move yourself over his lap, taking his cock in your hand as you rub it in between your folds. moaning, you move away as his hips jerk upwards, him biting and crying into his fist.

"my pretty baby, doing so well for me, gonna let me make you feel good? you gonna let me make you cum?" will nods his head and lets out the loudest moan you heard that day when you sink down on his cock.

buried to the hilt, he twitches inside you, and he's begging to cum, "'m gonna, 'm gonna cum, please, plea- need to, i need to cum in you," he begs and who are you to deny your pretty boy that?

"cum for me baby," you say, out of breath as you bounce on his cock, reveling in the slick sounds coming from between y'all. he does cum, hips thrusting upwards to bury himself in you, and you let him. but when you know he's all spent, you start to bounce on his cock, him crying from the over-sensitivity.

"just- just let me cum," you breathe out, balancing yourself with his shoulder and one hand rubbing circles into your clit, moans coming from your mouth as sobs leaves will's.

"oh- oh fuck, fuck, fuck!" you cry out, squeezing around will and falling on top of his chest.

breathing together, you let yourself have this moment before you get up and moves towards the bathroom. you hear him calling out for you as you grab a damp towel, some water, and a dry towel.

"did you think i was going to leave you, baby?" you ask, mostly not expecting an answer but turning to him as you run the damp cloth over his face and neck, he bit his lip.

"a little bit, yeah."

"well, don't think about that again, because as much as you're weird and steal my shit, you're still important to me," you tell me, "you're my pretty boy and you're going to stay that way."

when you finished cleaning him up and then cleaned yourself, you take the spot next to him and pull the covers over you two.

he leans into your side, pulling you into him, trying to get closer than close.

"you promise?"

you smile to yourself, thinking about having him all to yourself, "i promise."

[ladyanput]

Ok so this is the third time that I'm sending you an ask tonight. (or is it night time in your country?) I'm being annoying right now but whatever. So I've been cackling about those salt fics you wrote because they are just amazing. I have a request, though it is up to you to write it or not. So, can you write a salt fic where someone got an interview with Ladybug (probably Aurore) and then they ask her why they replaced the old heroes like Rena Rouge, Carapace and etc. and LB is just like I don't work with dumb shits or somethin'. Then there is also a new Black Cat (Probably Luka, Felix, or Damian) because Adrien here is an asshole and this fic is saltier than salt water. Then LB also insults Alya's blog and their school. Those foolish mortals get some lawsuits and the rest is up to you. (This request is probably messed up since it's already midnight here and I can't sleep.)

You're never annoying, I just apologize that it took me so long to get to you. I do hope you don't hold it against me, darling.

A one on one interview with Ladybug was basically unheard of if you weren't the Ladyblog or Nadja Chadwick. Ladybug had made it firm that she wasn't a celebrity, she was a hero. She wasn't there for clout, for attention, for fame or fortune. She just wanted to keep Paris safe.

That's was Aurore admired about her. And why she felt queasy as she sat across from the heroine, who had given her of all people an interview. But she got ahold of herself, taking deep breaths as the cameraman began counting down. And when he hit 'one', she put on her best smile and straightened in her seat.

"Hello Paris! Welcome back to 'Latest Buzz'! I am your lovable host, Aurore Beauréal. Today I am here with a very, very special guest, our very own heroine of Paris; Ladybug!"

Ladybug beamed right at the camera, but gave a shy little wave, giving away the nerves she obviously had.

"Now, Ladybug, I'm so glad you requested to be on the show. You know, I initially thought I had misheard when Estelle told me. Usually you're not big on personal interviews." Aurore gave her full attention to Ladybug, but keeping the bright, friendly smile and perfect posture.

"Well, I tried a few times actually. But when I did, none of them were really great experiences." Ladybug admitted and both girls immediately thought of that disastrous Face-to-Face interview. It left a bitter taste in their mouths. "My issue is that misinformation has been spread around a lot recently. It's made me realize that I need to find more trustworthy sources."

"Ladybug. I vow on my integrity as a host and Estelle's reputation as a journalist that we are people who research facts. We don't ambush our guests, we respect them." She said, placing a hand on her heart. Ladybug saw an honesty in her eyes that she hadn't seen in such a long time. It honestly made her feel.. Respected. "Now, Ladybug.. We both know you have a lot of fans. A lot of admirers. False information can be spread so easily these days, which sources specifically are you telling people to avoid?"

"Well.. With Face-to-Face, I found that I was entirely ambushed in that interview. I wanted to speak about my hero work, but instead Nadja kept trying to needle her way into my personal life. That picture she had shown in largely out of context; when Dark Cupid attacked and Chat Noir was under his spell, it was the only way to get him free."

"Yes, I remember watching that. I'll be honest Ladybug, I felt bad for you." Aurore bit her lip, but smiled a bit when Ladybug nodded. "I mean, Chat Noir wasn't helping either. He seemed to be trying to push this narrative forward that you two are a couple."

"And we're not!" Ladybug burst out before she could stop herself. Everyone in that studio could hear the utter stress and frustration in her voice. "I've begged and begged Chat Noir to stop with the flirting, the 'telling people we're dating', everything! I just wanted him to focus and he couldn't seem to do that!"

"Is that why you replaced him? Because of his slacking off and refusing to take anything seriously?" Aurora sat up an bit straighter, her eyes going wide.

".. Not exactly, no. It was a bunch of issues that eventually piled up and boiled over." Ladybug made some gestures with her hands, trying her hardest to find the words but just letting out a long and pained sigh in the end. "I do enjoy my new partner now. He is more serious, more stable. I know he won't go off and pout if I deny something he wanted. I needed an entirely new team, as a matter of fact."

"Well I am going to say, on behalf of everyone here, that we're glad. We swear on our integrity as journalists that if such rumours were to ever surface again, we will do our proper research." Aurore beamed and many of the staff and crew behind the cameras nodded and gave Ladybug their thumbs up. Honestly, it warmed Ladybug's heart to see such support.

When had been the last time someone had supported her like this? Sure, her parents supported her, but her friends..? Her peers? No, none of them had supported her in a long time.

"Speaking of research, I'd say to stay away from the Ladyblog." It burned to say it but it had to be said. Alya had crossed so many lines it wasn't even forgivable at this point. She had gone too far, had betrayed too many.

"Wait, what?" Aurore nearly jumped out of her seat but quickly composed herself, taking a deep breath. "Pardon me Ladybug, but the Ladyblog has been a vital source of information since the very beginning."

"And I'm not denying that!" Ladybug quickly held up her hands, her eyes desperate now. "But please let me explain. The Ladyblog was amazing in the beginning, but like all things, it started to go astray. It was things like trying so hard to find out my identity. Trying to push that narrative of that whole superhero couple thing.. Ladyblogger Alya Césaire has proven time and time again that she is not trustworthy. I mean, I thought she was my biggest fan. Why does she keep pushing my words aside?"

Many people who watched the interview would agree. If you idolized someone, respected someone, truly looked up to them.. Why would you push aside their words, their wishes to try and push the narrative you're so convinced is true, but isn't there?

"And don't get me started on the whole Lila Rossi craze she seemed to be on now." At Ladybug's mention of Lila Rossi, both Estelle and Aurore had to keep from rolling their eyes. They knew all about the girl.

"You speak as if you are quite frustrated, Ladybug. What an odd reaction to your best friend." Aurore leaned forward a bit in her seat. Everyone else got to the edge of theirs. Ladybug only shook her head, looking utterly defeated.

"That's the thing, she isn't my best friend." It took everything to keep from satin that she hated her, that she had taken away her friends and her life. "The only times she's met Ladybug is when she's been akumatized, which has been around six or seven times at this point. And the other things she's claiming are so outlandish! Saving Jagged Stone's kitten from a airport runway? Clara Nightengale stealing her dance moves? And the Ladyblog just posts it out there, claiming every single story is true. I'm just scared that people are taking this one hundred percent seriously. That's why I had to drop Rena Rouge and Carapace from the team as they believed Lila Rossi over me. They didn't even try to confirm these rumours! And it hurts to think that one day, someone will take Lila's words seriously and get hurt. What if she says it's safe to dip strawberries in bleach? Or tells someone that she found a way to tame some kind of wild animal? Someone would get hurt because they believe her story and try it out for themselves!"

"My goodness, I can definitely see how that is a problem. Misinformation is very easy to spread thanks to the internet, so you being worried is a very relatable thing." Aurore nodded, then tilted her head ever so slightly. "Ladybug, do you know anyone who has taken her word seriously? This is besides the Ladyblog of course."

Ladybug closed her eyes briefly, mentally debating with herself before finally giving in. These things needed to be said.

"Collège François DuPont. Now I wasn't there personally, but I heard about this situation and looked into it. The entire situation was appalling. Apparently a student was found to have cheated, assaulted another student, and commited thievery. But the thing that stuck out is only one person saw her do all of these things; Lila Rossi. No investigation was done, no questioning other students. This student was then expelled immediately. Her teacher and her principal didn't even give her a chance. And from what people have been saying, Miss Rossi's behaviour is actively encouraged in that school. She misses countless days, no, months of school, claiming she's traveling. But when she was supposedly in Achu, doing whatever it was she was claiming with Prince Ali, I was fighting her akuma here in Paris on Heroes Day!"

"I was at school the day that happened. I knew the student that happened to. They're the nicest person in that school! Never a bad thing to say about anyone, always willing to help! I agree with you on how things were handled, it's a level of incompetence that is baffling." Aurore's hands slowly curled into fists as she remembered it all. She slowly shook her head. "The principal, their teacher, their class who backed up Rossi. It must have hurt them so much, made them feel so alone."

"That's why I want people to be more careful with what information they take as fact. It's so important, because stuff like that can lead people to a desperate place. They feel alone, like the entire world is against them. I wouldn't have let the principal and the teacher get away with that gross negligence in their jobs." Ladybug leveled her gaze directly to the camera. "People of Paris, please listen to what I am saying. I am here to be a hero, to protect you from the terror of Hawkmoth and to defeat him. But please, do not be like Principal Damocles, do not be like that teacher and her class at DuPont. Do your research, look up your facts. Do not let a liar lead you to do something dangerous and hurt yourself as well as others. Respect each other, talk and be honest. I swear on my life that I shall do the same. You are the people I swore to protect and I love. I am saying this all to protect you. And I'll hope you'll all forgive me for not protecting you sooner."

...

The interview rocked Paris. Ladybug speaking so openly about her frustrations, about the discrepancies in the Ladyblog and Lila Rossi had many people double checking the sources of everything they learned from that blog.

Alya could barely show her face as she made her way though the school hallways. Her reputation as a journalist had gone down the drain. People had basically started boycotting her blog, harrassing her, or trash talking her on other forums and sites. Even a lot of news outlets picked this up.

What hurt the most from that interview last night was Ladybug's words towards her, both as Rena Rouge and as Alya. Surely the heroine had to be mistaken, she had never beytrayed Ladybug! And that Oblivio incident, it was just to show Chat Noir and Ladybug that they were meant to be together!

Her family was upset with her. No, upset was too tame of a word. They were pissed.

"I can't believe she lied to us.."

"Well what do you expect from someone who keeps harrassing Ladybug?"

Alya flinched when she heard the whispers and rushed into Miss Buster's class. The entire class was there, all seated, all looking utterly miserable. Many of them looked as if they had been crying all night. A lot like she had.

"W-where's Miss Bustier?" Alya asked when she eyed the empty desk. Many of her classmates shot her glares, but didn't say anything about the interview last night. After all, they had no room to talk.

"She and Principal Damocles are with the school board now. We're getting a new teacher." Adrien was the one that spoke up. He looked utterly miserable. So unlike his usual self.

"Lila isn't coming back. She was pulled from school when her mother found out what happened." Alix muttered from her seat, arms crossed and shoulders hunched.

The class went quiet as they all internally contemplated how things had gotten like this. Their eyes focused on the door when it abruptly opened and Marinette came strolling in, carrying a box.

"Good morning everyone!" She said brightly, pretending not to notice the downcast expressions on their faces. She set the box on the teacher's desk before she turned towards them. "Oh? What's wrong everyone?"

".. Did you not watch the interview with Ladybug on 'Latest Buzz'?" Alya stared at Marinette, a bit dumbfounded by her friend's lack of awareness of the situation. She had been expecting Marinette to rush in with support and a fiery vengeance against those who had humiliated her best friend, maybe even a fresh pastry. But instead she was greeted with empty hands and a cheerful hello?

"Oh, well I haven't really had the time to watch much television. I mean, with my transfer papers, needing to plan out my new schedule with all of those new classes. Busy as a bee, that's me!" Marinette just beamed, giving Adrien a playful wink that had his stomach churning.

"Wait, transfering?" It was Rose that spoke up, her large eyes seeming impossibly large now. "Transfer what?"

"To my new school, of course." Marinette giggled and clasped her hands together. "I start on Monday."

"New school?!" Alya was on her feet and rushing towards Marinette. The others quickly followed, crowding around her. "What do you mean new school?! When did you ever say you were going to a new school?"

Marinette blinked, as if stunned, then tilted her head ever so slightly.

"I told you all last week, don't you remember?" Marinette tapped her lower lip, seeming to be wracking her brain before she abruptly snapped her fingers. "Oh! I forgot, you all were deep in conversation with Lila about her upcoming event with Jagged Stone and Clara Nightengale. You know, the one she said she'd be attending with Ladybug, since they're such good friends. Did she ever say how it went?"

All of the students shifted uneasily, suddenly seeming to refuse to meet her face.

Alix murmured something so barely audible, Marinette held a hand to her ear and leaned closer.

"I'm sorry, what was that?"

"Lila was lying to us!" Alix snapped as her cheeks went a flaming red.

"About everything! She never knew Jagged Stone!" Juleka spat out in fury.

"Or Prince Ali!" Rose sniffled.

"And she wasn't friends with Ladybug? They were barely acquaintances!" Alya wailed out as tears welled up in her eyes.

But Marinette hardly reacted the way they were expecting. She just gave them a small smile and nodded.

"Oh, yeah. I know."

Alya sucked in a breath sharply.

"You knew..? But why did you never..?"

"Oh Alya, you silly forgetful thing. I told you the day she returned from her long 'trip', remember? I told you she was lying." Marinette gave Alya a smile that said 'oh you silly thing'. "But you told me that I should really check my sources. And I got tired of trying to bring up any lies, since that was always your response. So I decided to just stop. I mean, since you're such an inspiring, honest journalist you must double and triple check every source you come across and found every story to be true!"

Alya flinched and looked away, feeling the churning feeling in her gut again. No, the Ladyblog had been the only source for the stories. The. Only. One.

"And I'm sure all of you knew what you were doing! I mean, it makes sense; trusting the words of a complete stranger over someone you've known for a while now. Some of you since we were in diapers!" She focused her gaze on Nino and Kim, who had the grace to at least look ashamed.

"Marinette, you really should-" Adrien began, reaching out for the girl, but was cut off by her clapping her hands together.

"But it's alright! I decided that fighting with you all wasn't worth it, so I took Adrien's advice and took the high road! Don't bother exposing Lila, she isn't hurting anyone!" Marinette announced brightly, giving her hands a little wave.

The temperature in the classroom dropped by several degrees.

".. Adrien, she's kidding, right?" Nino glanced over at his friend, his eyes pleading for him to deny it all. But the sight of the blood draining from the model's face and the sweat starting to bead at his forehead told him everything he needed to know. "Dude.."

"How could you?! You knew this entire time and didn't even try to tell me?!" Alya rounded on Adrien, fury in her eyes.

"Now, now, don't get mad at Adrien. I'm sure he knew you all were going to do you research. Besides, it's not like this did anything bad for anyone." Marinette pressed a hand to her cheek, still grinning. "I mean, it's not like you all took her advice without doing any research. You didn't try the things she suggested without actually checking them out to be true, right? No one lost any scholarships or job opportunities. No one's relationships were ruined. No one was hurt."

The nauseous feeling spread to all of the class as the reality of everything caught up with them.

"I'm sure everything will go back to normal, right? I mean, I'm sure that that woman from the education bureau isn't here to fire Damocles and Bustier for their severe neglect in their duties. Expelling me with the most mediocre and shaky proof. Surely that's a school I should feel safe in! That I should be proud to be a part of. But alas, my preparations for my new school are already done, so oh well."

Marinette shrugged and adjusted her purse strap.

"Anyhow, I wish you all luck with the amazing things Lila has helped you to do! I know it must have been worth ignoring me and convincing me I was crazy. With all of the free time I've had, with you guys practically replacing me with Lila in the group, I've had tons of time to spend with my boyfriend."

"Boyfriend?!" Alya's eyes went owlishly wide as she gaped at Marinette. "But what about Adrien?!"

"Oh Alya, I fell out of love with Adrien forever ago." Marinette shook her head in an almost patronizing way that had Alya's cheeks burning with embarrassment. They didn't even pay attention to Adrien's noises of surprise. "I mean, you claimed I was jealous of Lila getting close to Adrien, that I should let the jealousy go. And you know what? You were right! So I decided Adrien wasn't worth the stress, the embarrassment.. I mean, I couldn't even talk to him straight. I thought he was the most perfect guy in the world! Goodness, did I learn my lesson!"

She giggled as if she found the entire thing amusing. She then beamed at the class.

"Well, ta-ta! I need to get back home and make sure everything is ready to go. I wish you all the best, I really do!"

They all watched, shellshocked as Marinette breezed out of the classroom like it was nothing. Like she wasn't leaving her friends, her school, her life behind. And they all would wonder exactly how badly they screwed up, if she could walk away do easily, without a care.

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[itsthe-neo-zone]

[03:18PM] ~ Park Jongseong x Reader, Apocalypse au

You didn’t want to live with the misery of regretting everything.

But that all went out the window as soon as the apocalypse began.

2 weeks, it’s been 13 whole days and 12 nights since the whole world decided to end itself.

The reason? An outbreak, a malicious deadly disease terraforming the earth in its own way. Killing everyone and everything with it. And when you say terraforming you mean turning us all against each other.

You regretted waking up that Wednesday morning, regretted getting out of bed, not hugging your mother in your arms longer and giving your family a proper farewell.

You were in school when it happened your district sounding the sirens, mid-week morning meaning you were in the dinner halls, you heard the sirens and all hell broke loose, the diners small tv monitor picked up an emergency broadcast.

Shaking your head subconsciously you drifted your mind away from what happened. It had been difficult thinking the past few days, even eating was becoming a luxury at times.

Like now, you’ve been wandering empty suburb streets looking for something to sustain yourself, where you were looked to be like a neighbouring district, but you weren’t sure, the sign posts were all ripped down to make any form of defence weapon, supplies were scarce at this point.

The scent on you was horrid but not as putrid as the stench of rotting corpses filing the earth. You stopped turning to look around you. The street was dusted with ruined houses all damaged and crumbled to the grounds.

Maybe you could crash into an abandoned one, maybe there was food and maybe you’d finally be able to use an actual bathroom. Your stomach grumbled with delight at the thought of food.

As you were about to pull the rusting metal rod in your hand towards the nearest property you heard a shrieking ear deafening pop,

The blood hit your brain, adrenaline began quickly building up inside you, like a band slowly stretching about to snap, your heart rattling in your chest. It tightened slightly. You swayed slightly from the shock of adrenaline hitting your numb body.

You swiftly turned to see nothing behind you but a pelleted bullet, someone around you had a weapon, and their target? You.

You began seeing the blurred edges of your sight return a sign to take response. Fight or flight. You chose the latter feeling weaker than expected. Heading outwards past the last few properties your best hope was to lose your hunter out in the wilderness.

Brushing past leaves twigs and the thicket of the edges of the lush greenery you low down once you’re no longer hearing bullets trailing after you. It was quiet

Almost too quiet to be normal. You push yourself up against a tree, straining your breath to regulate faster than it should. You regretted being stupid to do that too as you felt the persisting tickle at the back of your throat.

It let a much needed cough to begin crawling up your oesophagus. Shutting your eyes for a moment you stiffened your lips slightly holding it back. Why now of all times, you’d been surviving fine…

You could hear a slight crunch of foliage under careful feet, slowly creeping up on you.

You’d be done for this time if they did have a weapon. Trembling fingers dug into the metallic rod in your palms, they’d make indents from how hard you were gripping.

Feeling your chest tighten a little. The metal was starting to feel slippery in between clammy fingers but you held it to your face keeping your stance ready.

You were scared, no, terrified even. But that didn’t mean you were going to give up so easily. You wanted to survive, you had to.

Ironic.

A few weeks you were ready to give up on life itself.

As you sighed, you prepared to turn and show yourself but as you made a move you felt something restrict your breath and pull you away from the edge of the tree. You didn’t have your hand on your mouth though.

It was a foreign feeling but it was something you greeted with open arms, it was warm, and you forgot the caress of another on your cold stiff body.

Caress of another? It wasn’t my hands.

Gunshots sounded across the clearing you hid from. Disturbing screeches of birds fleeted from above. A harsh thump fell to the floor. A limp body.

But it wasn’t yours. You still had a chance.

Eyes widening, you registered the figure behind you keeping you hold in a strong grip.

The surging boost of energy you had left pushed you to kick with your feet. Backwards tripping up your attacker. The gunshots stopped but you were sure it was them, not just one but 2, maybe more…

The figure fell back unable to balance themselves but you were pulled back, you pushed yourself out of their hold, they pulled away regained their stance before attacking you from your side,

the male twisted his arm around your head and the other at your waist holding your arms down. He was agile and had strength but you managed to be faster. Quickly thinking, you moved.

Digging your elbow into their side hitting them right beneath their rib cage.

Bingo,

you heard a slight grunt they pushed away from you trying to recover.

You turned grabbing the rod, eyes shaking to survey the sight before you. It was just one, you swing your arms back getting ready to attack.

“Stop!” A strained call out towards your direction, but you faltered, it wasn’t for you? He directed it behind you falling back slightly. You turned to see another male.

Eyes trained like he was about to pounce on his prey. What was more horrifying was the gun now in his hold pointed directly at you.

“Don’t, Jake, she’s harmless.”

His arms stayed firmly ahead of him holding the weapon. “Harmless my ass, you were about to lose your head,” his fingers wavered.

“Just listen to me.” The guy stood up. You noticed the tattered and beaten up clothes they wore, rips and smears all over each article. Dried blood splattered across parts of their body. Judging by the colour it wasn’t from today.  

The combat boots the two wore made you think twice about setting down your weapon as you remained in your stance.

But their eyes and faces showed different,

They were anxious, in pain, alert like you.

“Idiot.” He dropped his arms. Mumbling before walking towards the other who was now slowly guiding himself down by supporting himself on the tree.

His face was etched with strain. And for a second you felt a pang of regret. You shrugged the feeling away watching the two converse.

“Are you survivors?” you swayed slightly, pressing forward kept your feet stable you regrated the shakiness your voice had, first people you spoke to in a while and you sound like you were about to cry.

“Just barely,” one huffed, “As I said he was about to lose his head.” The one named Jake turned from tending to his friend and shot you a dirty glare.

Jakes eyes were intense and focused, he didn’t flit nor shy away. Pressing further. You subconsciously step back, eyes looking past him and towards his friend.

“I had to protect myself.” You pull your arms downwards stepping out of the position and lowering your guard slightly.

“Mhm, sure.” He muttered. He turned back lifting the others shirt. A long tear in the seamless skin ran down the males side. It wasn’t bleeding, it looked like it was an old scar. Just barely healed.

“You’re, fine,”

“She had, shit, every right to do that.” The other caught his breath then spoke.

“Right.” Jake pressed his lips into a thin line. It looked like he wasn’t having any of that, his jaw clenched, he was stopping himself from speaking any further.

Standing up and walking past you. He glanced at you up and down before moving back to the clearing.

“Sorry about that,” the boy sitting at the bottom of the tree pushed himself to try getting to his feet, you stared cautiously your fingers tingling to help him, so now you were starting to get your humanity back? Where was this feeling a few days ago?

The fliting sound of slipping feet against the rough terrain is what brought your focus back as you moved to assist him. He groaned.

His eyes caught yours, cautious and foreign, was this just the way he looked at people him or was he anxious to be around you.  

“I’ll … uh.” Your hand waivered, before holding his free arm. “I’ll help you.”

“Um… Thanks.” He nodded clenching his jaw he pushed himself up with your help.

“I’m jay.” His lips pressed into a thin line the edges pushing upwards slightly as he nodded, he stayed silent for a second. You figured out this was an introduction a few seconds late, sucking in a quick breath you mumbled.

“Ah i- yeah…. I’m _____ .” your face tensed up. Jay flashed you a lopsided smile.

“Sorry about earlier, I had to make sure you didn’t interfere while Jake finished up with—uh…”

“Were you the—” you paused. How were you going to ask him if he was the one that was chasing you. How do you word that without sounding weird. “the… I was—”

“You mean the gunshots?” he mumbled.

You quickly nodded giving yourself a mini headache at the fast movement.

“No, we were… in the distance, yeah, when we heard the sound. Just me and Jake.” He lead you to the clearing.

You were slowly introduced into the new space, you watched Jake push the body dressed in black to the side. There was someone following you his face hidden beneath the mask.

“Found all this.” He kicked at the floor with his foot. “shit thing is he’s probably a trained assassin.” He nodded towards the pile of weaponry. “All in his bag, some on him,”

Jake stood up facing Jay. “We need to fucking leave, where there’s one there’s always more.” He lifted a few small items. Something that looked like a smaller loaded gun, testing its scope he tucked it into his pocket.

“Here, take that.” He threw a shielded knife at jay and grabbed a larger gun and handed it to the male next to you.

“lets go.” He walked past Jay and farther out.

As Jay turned he caught your eyes, he saw the anxious glimmer, the shiver you tried to hid and the fact that your fingers were digging in to your palm.

“Our chances of survival are bigger…” he stated. It cut you out of the worry trail your brain was starting to follow,

“Together than apart.”

You caught his eyes. Jay was trying to be as friendly as he could, you could see a glimmer of hope, something you lost within the first 3 days.

“Are you-, I’m sorry I’m a bit confused right— shit, I’ll just ask… are you asking me to…”

“You should come with us.” You silently thanked him for putting you out of your misery. Shocked he was asking you this. And relieved to have met people you could somewhat trust.

“What?”

“HEY! Hurry up if you want to fucking live dude!” Jake was already way ahead.

“Gimme a second!” he sighed, calling out.  

“I was wondering if you wanted to join us. That is if you’re not with anyone right now.”

You could almost cry from the surge of relief you felt. It was almost draining the life out of you fending for yourself. And night-time was when it got its worst alone. No more going crazy talking to yourself.

“Yeah, that would be great.” You voiced out, he smirked, hearing your voice so relieved.

“Glad to hear.” He nodded towards the direction they were headed. Leading you further ahead.

“Do you know how to wield a gun?”

You shook your head.

“I’ll teach you don’t worry.”

~~~

(thinking of truning this idea into a fic what do you think?)

Seola - It’s the neo zone © All rights reserved.

[thatonecoryosimp]

And They Were Roommates, Your Honor Trapped in A New World. Part 2

Hello, my darlings! I hope you're doing well. I'm starting this at 3 in the morning on the day I'm supposed to post this! Yay! I am going to start grammar checking, though. Since I've never bothered to go back and edit the things I wrote, reading my writing feels like a chore. Also, my pride converse are arriving today and I'm very excited. (They got here lmao.)

I can't believe I just finished this :( (It's currently 11:45 Pm.)

Series Masterlist

7/6/2022

Words: 1,133

The two men gave me a funny look before glancing back at Dream. 

“What happened to your clothes?” I immediately noticed the thick British accent the voice held. I looked at him. Blue shirt. Deep brown hair. Weird white glasses. 

“She fell in a river,” Dream answered before I could. I shot him a glare. 

“I can answer for myself, thank you.” 

The other man on the couch snorted, “Yeah, Dream, let the lady talk.” Black hair. White headband. Flame shirt. He pushed himself off the couch and sauntered over to me. He flashed a stunning smile and reached for my hand and pressed a kiss to the back of it. “I’m Sapnap. It’s lovely to make your acquaintance.” 

I chuckled softly, pulling back and pretending to courtesy. I told him my name and that it was lovely to meet him. I heard footsteps to my side and glanced over. The man in the blue shirt was standing next to me with a boyish grin. 

“I’m guessing you’re George?” 

“Yeah, I am. I’m happy to have you. I’ve been stuck with these idiots alone for God knows how long.” 

Sapnap huffed and Dream let out an annoyed “Hey!” While George started laughing. 

I started looking around the small room and noticed a few beds in the corner, there was a small space between each of them so they weren’t directly touching. George followed my gaze and then looked back at me. 

“We have some extra wool so we can make you a bed, too,” George said as he walked over to a wood block with a grid on it. 

“Yeah, that way you won’t have to sleep with one of us or on the uncomfortable couch,” Dream added as he walked over to a chest and started rummaging around. 

“I mean I wouldn’t mind you sleeping with me,” Sapnap said with a grin as he leaned a bit closer. 

“Sapnap! You’re gonna scare her off!” George huffed. 

I couldn’t help but laugh at their dynamic as I strolled over to George. 

“What’s this?” I questioned as I sat my hands on the wood. 

“It’s a crafting table. You can make things with it if you have the right materials.” 

I watched as he set some white wool across the middle and then wood along the bottom. After a moment, a fully-fledged bed appeared. Geroge picked it up and walked over to the other three beds. He placed it on the ground and it grew to a size comparable to the others. 

“Has anyone questioned the logistics of how that actually works? "I asked. 

“We have,” Sapnap started, “but none of us have really figured it out yet. Don’t think we’re gonna be able to anyway.” 

I nodded. Dream walked past me and looked out the window. 

“It’s starting to get dark already,” he said in a matter-of-fact tone. He looked over at me, “For the next couple days we’re gonna be teaching you the basics. Okay?” 

“I mean, sounds good to me,” I answered with a shrug. 

Dream pushed his arms over his head and sighed. 

“I’d say it’s best to get an early night’s rest so we can make the best out of tomorrow.” 

“I agree," George said with a hum as he walked over to the bed in the corner. He pulled off his glasses and sat them on a small wooden surface before falling back on the sheets. 

Sapnap glanced around for a second. 

“I’ll get the food ready tonight.” 

Dream quickly jumped in. 

“Nope, I’ll make dinner. You’re not starting a fire again.” 

“It was an accident!” Sapnap called but Dream just brushed by him. 

Sapnap let out an annoyed groan before tumbling into the middle bed in an unceremonious flurry of movement. 

Geroge and I laughed as he ended up tangled in the sheets and fell out onto the floor. 

“It’s not funny!” 

But neither of us listened as we just continued laughing. 

“Alright, children.” Dream huffed as he walked over with two plates in his hand before handing them to Sapnap and George, “here’s your dinner.” 

“Thanks dad!” Sapnap called. I heard Dream sigh and shake his head before speed walking back to the furnace. He brought two more plates and handed one to me before plopping on the bed closest to mine. 

Dinner was pretty silent after that. I could hear George and Sapnap bickering about something but I wasn’t really sure what it was about. 

Dream was completely lost to the world as he scribbled something down in a small book, occasionally taking bites of his food. 

I was left pondering to myself about how I had even gotten to this place as I chomped on the bread Dream had prepared. 

I felt a tap on my shoulder. 

“Here,” Dream handed me a piece of paper I’m guessing he ripped out of his book, “It’s a list of the things we’re going to teach you.” 

I looked down at the piece of parchment. 

“Tomorrow: Wood Chopping with Dream. Fishing with Sapnap. Crafting with George. 

Day after: Hunting with Dream. Mining with Sapnap. Construction with George. 

Next day: Swordsmanship with Dream. Archery with Sapnap. Knife throwing with George. 

Last day: Farming with Dream.” 

“That’s a lot to learn,” I mumbled. I heard Dream chuckle. 

“You’ll figure it out, you’ve got some amazing teachers, after all.” his tone was cocky and playful and it made me smile. 

“Last I checked two of my teachers couldn’t even get along.” 

“We heard that!” They both called in unison and I started laughing, falling back on the bed. 

I turned to Dream after a second. 

“What should I do with my plate?” 

“I’ve got it, don’t worry,” he replied as he stood up and took both our plates to a small counter and sat them down. 

“Why don’t you offer to take our plates?” Sapnap pouted. 

“Because we aren’t pretty girls,” George answered. 

“You sayin’ I ain’t pretty?” 

“Yes. And I’m also saying you’re not a girl.” 

“I can be whatever I want to be.”  

“Anything but pretty.” 

“Will you two shut it?” Dream finally snapped as he laid back down. “I want to sleep peacefully tonight.” 

That was the end of it. I was genuinely surprised that they stopped talking that quickly. 

George and Sapnap put up their plates before laying down and getting ready to sleep. 

I sunk under the covers and closed my eyes. 

“I can’t wait till we finish the bedrooms,” Sapnap mumbled. 

I heard George let out a little hum of agreeance before the room went silent. 

I tucked my arm under my pillow and yawned. I closed my eyes and soon found myself slipping into unconsciousness.  

I’m just glad that my clothes dried within the first hour of being out of the river. 

~~~

Hello, my darlings! I'm on time. (Maybe a tad late, but still on time!) I promise I'm gonna get better at updating later in the day. (In my time zone).

Stay safe, and drink water.

Love you,

~Jules <3

Next Part >

[jackrrabbit]

Spoiled Rotten /// Overhaul x f!Reader (18+)

Request: What if Overhaul fucks spoiled rich reader because her dad owes the yakuza money and in exchange Kai takes the daughter as a form of payment using her as his personal stress doll whenever and wherever he wants making her into his perfect little doll

A/N: While I was writing this my roommate asked if I was okay bc cause I kept stopping to fan myself and blush lmaooooo god I’m such a brat. I did change the concept up a bit, hope that’s fine!

This is dedicated not only to the OG requester but also to everyone who read the excerpt I posted a while back and told me they couldn’t wait to see the finished product!! Love you guys ❤️

Tags/warnings: threats, dubcon/coercion, dom/sub, brat taming, degradation, exhibitionism, restraints, mentions of forced prostitution, verbal & physical harassment, kidnapping, kinda breath play?, long

The first thing you notice when you come to are voices. Multiple people talking to each other, speech overlapping in patterns you can’t make out. They’re quiet—not whispering for your sake, but quiet because you’re still half knocked-out and you can barely hear.

The second thing you notice is the pounding in your head and the lingering smell of something sweet spread over your nose and mouth.

The third thing you notice is the fact that when you try to blink your eyes open, your lashes brush against something soft and dark. You’re blindfolded…and gagged, and your hands feel like they’re cuffed behind your back. From what you can sense around you, it seems like you’re hunched in a kneeling position with your cheek flattened against the floor and your bare feet tucked under your backside.

At least you’re still in your nightgown. You can feel the frilly silk of it, a useless barrier between your skin and the cool air, and it reminds you of how you got here in the first place.

A loud noise in the night. Your father’s voice pleading. A heavy thump. The door to your bedroom banging open and a strange man holding you down to your bed…lifting a sweet-smelling rag to your mouth…telling you to “take a deeeeep breath, princess.”

“Hey, I think she’s waking up.”

An invisible hand fists itself in your hair and you whine in pain as your upper body is lifted off the floor. Once you’re properly upright, you hear squeaking, shoes against concrete, and the heat and breath and presence of someone behind you. Something rustles at the back of your head—you’re too scared to move so you stay still—and then the blindfold is being lifted off your face.

Once it’s gone, you have to blink for a moment even despite the low light of the dingy room where you’ve…apparently…been kidnapped. By the freaking yakuza. And for some reason, they’re all wearing bird-beak masks.

You close your eyes, almost wishing they hadn’t taken the blindfold off. You’d prefer to live in blissful ignorance of how decidedly unclean the floor is. How dare they let your face touch it? What happened to honor among thieves?

“Do you know why you’re here?”

Against your will, your eyes flick up to the speaker. He’s the only one sitting, and somehow that gives him a position of power among the others. The leader?

Unsettling golden eyes rest on yours, and you realize he’s waiting for your answer, so you slowly move your head from side to side.

“Didn’t know about daddy’s bad habits, huh?” This time the person speaking is behind you, the one who untied your blindfold, a thin man with lank, greasy blond hair. He’s the one who drugged me, you remember in a surge of panic, and you try to stand up away from him only for him to step on the chain that connects your handcuffs, jerking you back and pinning you—painfully—to the floor.

“Careful, Setsuno. I told you not to leave marks. Let her talk.”

“Got it, boss.” The blond—Setsuno—fumbles at the back of your head and then he’s pulling the gag out of your mouth.

You open and close your mouth a few times to stretch out the stiff muscles. “Oh. My. God. Was that polyester you just took out of my mouth? Do you have any idea how bad synthetics are for sensitive skin? I’m totally going to break out.”

A hush falls over the little room. You could hear a pin drop.

“…Are you complaining about the quality of the fabric we gagged you with?” the leader asks after a second.

“You may be yakuza, but you don’t have to act like savages,” you reply primly, aligning your knees together and sending a proud look off to the side.

“Ohh…little princess deserves better, does she?” Setsuno coos. He edges closer to rub his cheek against yours and laughs when you cringe away from him. “Boss, you shoulda seen her bedroom. All pink and frilly, looked like royalty lived there. Bet they treat you like a real princess at home, huh? No wonder your daddy’s in debt.”

“Daddy isn’t—“

“Your father…took out loans from my gang. My men came last night to collect,” the leader says, drumming his fingers over the armrest of his chair impatiently.

He’s wearing plastic gloves. Why is he wearing plastic gloves? Immediately your mind is spinning, imagining all the different gruesome possibilities of what they’re going to do to you. “That’s ridiculous. My daddy doesn’t need to borrow money—“

“Clearly he does, because it looks like he pissed it all away on his daughter.” The leader’s eyes are cold enough to make you shiver—although maybe that’s just the icy temperature of the floor soaking through your nightgown.

“He had a couple payments overdue, so we stopped by to ask nicely for him to pay up,” Setsuno says, resting his chin on your shoulder. “Didn’t find too many valuables in your house, but then we got our hands on a real treasure.”

“Don’t touch me—“

“You don’t seem to understand the position you’re in,” the leader says. “When I made my contract with your father, he understood that obligations like these are inherited. Since he can’t pay his debt, you’re going to be working it off in his place.”

Working it off? You swallow. Somehow you don’t think he’s talking about your little part-time job as a receptionist at your daddy’s company. “You can’t make me do that.”

“I’m not sure you’re getting the gist, princess,” Setsuno hums. “What we’re gonna do is we’re gonna put you in a room, and then men are gonna give us money, and then we’ll let those men fuck you. All that money’s gonna go toward paying what your daddy borrowed. Sound good?”

For the first time since you can remember, you’re shocked speechless. They’re going to…what? But you’re a quick thinker, and instead of letting these filthy, awful gangters boss you around, you raise your chin haughtily to look directly into the leader’s eyes. “I don’t think so. If Daddy’s the one who got himself in debt, you can make him whore himself out to pay it back. You can’t hold me responsible for something he’s done.”

Another brief silence, and then you hear a whistle echo out from the corner of the room (and you try not to look toward it, reminding yourself that this can only get worse if they know how scared you are). “She’s got a mouth on her, Overhaul,” someone says.

Overhaul. So the leader’s name is Overhaul. How ridiculous; it sounds like a villain’s name.

“Aww, princess,” Setsuno says, and once again his voice is too close for your comfort. “Little spoiled princess doesn’t know how to shut her mouth and suck it up when things don’t go her way? Well…you’ll learn.”

You don’t want to know what he’s talking about, although if you thought about it for more than a second it’d be obvious. You suck in a harsh breath and the cool, damp air stings against your dry throat. “You can’t just make me—“

“Ohh, I think we can. See, if your daddy’s been spending all of the Shie Hassaikai’s money on his precious daughter, don’t you think you owe a little too? Like, this dress—“ you jump as Setsuno’s hand tugs on the thin, floaty silk— “was bought with Overhaul’s money, so it belongs to him, right?”

You keep quiet, not wanting to prompt him to go further, but when his hands stroke up over your waist to grope your breasts in full view of everyone else in the room, you don’t really have to guess.

“And, y’know, your daddy’s been keeping you nice and healthy with Overhaul’s cash, making sure you grow up into such a pretty girl…” Setsuno’s voice is a purr in your ear as his hands squeeze your tits almost lovingly, then pinch your nipples through the fabric. “So hey—if you think about it, this tight little body…belongs to Overhaul too. Isn’t that right, sir?”

You squirm in place as best you can but with the metal cuffs digging into your wrists, there’s nothing you can do to get away from his touch. You’re desperate enough to shoot a terrified glance up at the leader—surely there are rules about treating an innocent girl like this, even for the yakuza—but he looks as unmoved as before. “Get her out of my sight. We’ll give her a rest for the next few days, and then…”

“No!” you yelp, too panicked to keep up the pretense of confidence. “I won’t, I can’t do that, please don’t make me—“

“Shhh. You’ll get used to it, princess. And if you don’t…” Setsuno’s hand combs though your hair and then trails down your neck, tracing the path of your spine between your shoulder blades. “…well, you won’t really have much of a choice, will you?”

And then he’s tugging on your cuffed hands, pulling you to a standing position, but you wriggle away from him and do everything you can to stay planted on the ground so they can’t take you away from here, away from the only man who is capable of stopping this. Overhaul. “Please! I’m— I can work it off another way! I’ll be useful— I’ll—“

Overhaul leans forward a fraction in his chair, and you wonder if you’ve caught his interest. “What, exactly? How do you think you can be useful to me?”

You bite your lip and wrack your brains, not knowing whether the question is rhetorical. What skills do you have that would be valuable to them? Suddenly all the knowledge you’ve gained in your short life seems so meaningless. You’re a decent receptionist (well, decent is a stretch), but if Overhaul wanted someone to answer calls for him you’re pretty sure he would’ve asked.

Why did you spend your life learning such impractical skills? The four-year weekend course you took on horseback riding jumps to mind and you want to hit your head against the wall. Why didn’t you ask your father to sponsor a class in something that would actually matter in the long run? And what would even be useful to these people? Accounting? Bookkeeping? Extortion?

There’s nothing valuable you can offer. You’ve wasted your life, and now you’re going to pay for it. Seriously, the only thing you’re actually good at is keeping your boyfriends (or, rather, the men you cycle through once a month) happy until the novelty wears off and you get bored and move on to the next lovesick target—

—wait. Keeping your boyfriends happy. That’s a skill, isn’t it?

Once, a little bit after you turned eighteen, you’d had a rather illicit conversation with one of your more sexually adventurous friends about being a sugar baby. Your friend had just secured a very generous benefactor, and you’d been so intrigued by all the designer purses and vacations to Cabo that you’d almost considered trying it for yourself. She’d even helped you set up a profile on Seeking Arrangements that listed your physical features and interests, but you’d blanched when it came time to post photos.

“But why do men even like this?” you'd asked your friend after your picture-less profile received its dozenth unsolicited offer. “Rich, successful guys shouldn’t have so much trouble finding girlfriends that they have to resort to paying for sex.”

“It’s a power trip,” she’d replied. “Most men never get the chance to have a woman who’s willing to do and be whatever he wants, whenever he wants it. You’re his ideal girlfriend, his therapist, his wife, and his stress relief all in one.”

At the time, you’d decided against it, deleting your profile and telling your friend you’d rather just keep taking advantage of your real father doting on you than have to fake orgasms for rich men in their 50’s. But back then, you’d had a choice; now that you’ve been kidnapped by a gang who wants you to get fucked by a bevy of strangers to pay off a debt you’ve never even heard of, you no longer have the privilege of a way out. Or, at least, the options are a lot less appealing than before.

You tilt your head back to Overhaul, eyeing him for the first time with real scrutiny instead of prideful disgust. Judging from what you can see of his face under the ornate bird mask (and again, what is with the freaking bird masks?), he’s fairly young, mid-twenties at the oldest. Short, sort of wavy dark hair (you’ve always had a thing for dark hair), a trim suit and tie, and those eyes. Like he can read your mind just looking at you.

He’s…handsome enough, you have to admit to yourself. But it’s not just that. There’s something pristine about him, something untouchable that commands discipline. He’s clean. You and him are probably the only clean things in this hovel of a room.

“Well? I’m waiting,” Overhaul says.

And now that you’ve got the idea in your head, it’s almost too embarrassing to meet his gaze. But you can do this; you have to do this. At least it’ll be your choice, and—you’re hoping—it’ll be better than the alternative.

“I could be yours,” you tell him, taking pride in the fact that your voice isn’t breaking.

His eyes narrow and you think god, his eyelashes are long. It’s not fair. Men never appreciate having long eyelashes. What is he thinking? Is he going to kill you for even suggesting it? But it’s too late now…you have to dig yourself a little deeper if you don’t want to go through with their original plan for debt fulfillment.

You force your muscles to relax, knowing this’ll be impossible to pull off if you’re tense and biting down on the words like they’re going to choke you. If you’re going to make him believe it, you have to make yourself believe it too. “You… This job must be hard. Even for a—a powerful man like you, it has to be stressful, right? Always looking out for the interests of the gang instead of your own…needs.”

Overhaul doesn’t move, but you’re so focused on him it would be impossible for you to miss the way a single muscle in his neck flexes. You’ve hit a nerve.

You take a cautious step toward him, trying to channel the sexually-liberated vixen you consider yourself when you’re not in your nightgown surrounded by men who could murder you with their bare hands and not miss a minute of sleep. “You’re always giving, aren’t you? Looking toward the future of the gang? Doesn’t it get frustrating when—when a pretty thing is in front of you and you don’t even get…a little taste of her?”

Oh god, you can feel the humiliated heat rushing to your cheeks. How can you be saying this? You’ve played the role of seductress plenty of times before, but never in such a risky situation. You just have to keep moving toward him and hope it feels authentic enough to convince him.

“You’ve worked hard. And…like he said, my—my body belongs to you.” Now you’re close enough to Overhaul and he hasn’t stopped you, so you lower yourself onto the floor, knees bumping softly into the cold surface. Kneeling between his legs.

Overhaul stares down at you, gaze as sharp and cold as before—and you’re sick with anxiety, so scared you can feel your hairs raising up on end—but if he wanted you to stop, he would have said something, right? So you shuffle a little closer and nuzzle your cheek over the inside of his clothed thigh like a kitten, then raise your head up to him to give him your best bedroom look, the one that says, I want you. I need you. No one but you. The look no man has ever been able to resist.

“…You deserve something to yourself, sir,” you murmur.

There’s a collective intake of breath as every person in the room simultaneously realizes what you’re offering. Overhaul’s expression doesn’t change, but once again, a tendon jumps out white under the skin of his throat and there’s a creak of latex on leather as his grip on the arm of the chair tightens.

“Damn,” Setsuno says under his breath from behind you. Someone whistles. You’re pretty sure you hear the word ‘slut’ being tossed around, but there’s reverence behind it.

“And what makes you think you’re so valuable?” Overhaul asks.

You close your eyes to ground yourself for a second. He’s interested, you know that much. You’ve never really had to convince someone to want you, but there’s a first time for everything. Besides, you only have to look at him for a second to know he does want you, which isn’t a surprise. Who wouldn’t?

“I’ll do anything you want, be anything you want,” you tell him, echoing your conversation with your friend back then. “Take out your anger on me if that’s what you’re into. When you’re tired of me, you can consider my debt paid and let me go.”

“And?” he prompts.

‘And’? And what? You’re offering yourself to him, your body and your mind—what more can he possibly ask from you? You cast your thoughts around, wondering what else you have to give him. “And…and I’ll do it willingly. You, um—you look like a man who appreciates obedience.”

And that’s it. Your last shred of pride is gone. Not only are you offering yourself up to a man to use as his personal stress doll, you’re saying you’ll be compliant every step of the way. Knowing yourself, you’re pretty sure that’s impossible, but you just need to make him believe it long enough for you to find a way out of here. You can pretend to enjoy getting fucked by a gangster a few times. You’ll live.

But you’re naive. And with the stream of thoughts pushing through your head, you never really consider one thing, one essential thing: how you look pleading up at him in that pale pink nightdress—soft, pure, immaculate against the filth of the underworld, the only clean body that Overhaul’s seen in a long time.

And you’re right. He is a man who appreciates obedience.

“Willingly…so you’d be willing to prove it.”

Your head jerks up and down in response. Yes! He’s taking the bait, now I just have to get him alone and—

“Then demonstrate.”

When a moment passes and you don’t move, Overhaul tips his head to the side, gaze still locked on you, and gestures vaguely at his lap. You blink and then shy back, shrinking under the hungry gazes of the onlookers. “You can’t mean—in front of them?”

“And here I thought you were going to be obedient.” There’s no mercy, no amusement in his voice. No hint of humanity.

So he’s serious. He wants you to give him a blowjob in front of—how many? one, two three, four—four other men!? Your first instinct is to jump back away from him and your next is to slap him for even suggesting it; you can actually hear the jingle of your cuffs as you attempt to raise your hand. You’ve gotten a little kinky before—blindfolds, vibrators, maybe a hand tied to the bedpost with a Hermès scarf once or twice, but this is a whole different level. And the way they’re all looking at you…like they’re itching to see you brought down. How absolutely disgusting.

But Overhaul’s waiting for your answer, and you know full well that you’re not going to deny him.

“O-Of course.” You lean forward over the seat of the chair so your face is just inches from his lap. “Um. My hands...?”

They’re still cuffed behind you, but it seems like they’re going to stay that way when Overhaul gives a curt shake of his head. “Use your mouth.”

Once again, you’re stunned into silence. How are you supposed to—? Without your hands? It doesn’t even seem like he’s going to undo his pants for you. It’s like he wants to humiliate you…oh, wait. As soon as the thought crosses your mind, it’s clear that’s exactly what he’s trying to do.

You give him another doe-eyed glance, bidding him to at least undo his belt, but he remains unmoved. Bastard.

After aiming another glare at him (because as obedient as you’re attempting to be, you’ve never been good at concealing your emotions) you lean deeper in and take the stiff leather of his belt between your teeth, gently easing it out of the buckle and trying to ignore the mixture of earthy and metallic tastes it leaves on your tongue. It takes a few tries, but eventually you’ve got the tail of the belt out of the buckle and you pull your head back to guide the metal down until the belt is hanging open from its loops.

A rush of accomplishment surges through you when you get it open, and then you want to slap yourself. Accomplishment? From doing this with your mouth like an animal—like a dog? You can hear laughter and mocking encouragement from the men watching, but you steel yourself and dip back in to get Overhaul’s pants undone. The button is tricky, especially with your face nudging into the hard muscle of his abdomen through his shirt, but somehow you manage to tug the fabric slit over the button and then—delicately, delicately—clamp the zipper between your teeth and peel it downward.

“Oh, she’s good,” someone says from the background. Setsuno. You look up warily, but Overhaul’s eyes haven’t moved from you.

Now that you’ve got his pants open, you’re face to face (literally) with what you’re going to have to deal with. The outline of his cock is bulging the fabric of his boxers outward, and he’s not even half erect. You snatch a look back up at him—and damn it, you have to stop doing that, because every time you look into those golden eyes and that stupid bird mask you feel like a lamb looking at a bird of prey right before it snatches you from your safe little lamb-house in the meadow and—fuck, you just have to get on with it.

So you dip down and mouth over him through the fabric, spreading the flat of your tongue over the length of his thick cock. Your mouth feels like you’ve been eating cotton (probably because they drugged you earlier) but you force yourself to salivate, letting drool spill over your tongue and dampen his boxers. When you duck and spread your lips down on the place you can feel the tip stretching out, you know the friction must feel good, because despite the lack of even so much of a deep breath from the man above you, his cock is getting harder.

You nudge your mouth over the tent between Overhaul’s legs again, letting the heat of your breath wash over him—but when he doesn’t do anything, you pull back and blink up at his face. Does he expect you to get him off through his underwear? You could, but most of your moves depend on skin-to-skin contact. There’s no way you can get his cock out with your mouth like you undid his pants, so…what? “Are—are you going to take it out?”

Overhaul brings a gloved hand to his face to rub absently at one of the straps on his mask. “…Beg,” he tells you.

Your mouth drops open and you reel back from his lap like he asked you to lick the dirt off the floor. What!? He can’t seriously expect you to—to beg him to put his dick in your mouth when you’re clearly disgusted at the whole situation. When he doesn’t give any indication of retracting the statement, you can’t help the mocking sneer that forms over your face. “Please, sir,” you spit, and a deaf man could hear the spite in your voice.

Now, that gets a reaction. Overhaul’s eyes flash and you take a certain degree of pride back at the anger you’ve clearly inspired in him. But it’s extinguished as soon as you see it, and then he’s reaching down to cup your chin, tilting your head back and rubbing his thumb over your lower lip.

“I think you can do better than that, princess,” he says, and you can hear your own mocking tone reflected back in his voice. “Unless you’d like me to give my men a turn?”

This, more than anything, scares you. He must be able to feel the way your spine goes stiff, adrenaline rushing, your fight-or-flight instinct kicking in at the prospect of what he’s threatening.

“Each of them, one by one. Between the four of them, I think they could cure that smart mouth…although they might just break you in the process,” he continues, and then his thumb is pressing into your lip, into your mouth, and you loosen your jaw to let him in. You can taste the rubbery latex of his gloves and the other men mutter agreement, encouraging their leader to turn you over to them, and you want to cry.

But you hold the tears back. “Please, sir! Please, please may I s-suck your cock sir? Please!” Your voice is more terrified than obedient, but that’s probably what he’s into anyway. When he doesn’t say anything, you babble on, unwilling to let yourself get gangbanged by a group of men who could probably wreck your pussy in a single round. “Please, please, Mr.—Mr. Overhaul, um, boss? M-Master?”

“Sir will do just fine,” Overhaul says, apparently satisfied, and he pulls his hand away from your face to free his cock from his boxers.

You let out a hot sigh of relief and angle yourself back toward his lap so you can zero in on his cock (and, hopefully, do a little to block out how sickeningly degrading all of this is: how easy it is for him to threaten you; how he has all the power and you have none; how the men around you are goading you, taunting you and calling you things that should get their mouths washed out with soap). You can focus on this, and this, at least, you’re good at. You’ve always been good with your mouth.

It’s a nice dick, too, you have to admit to yourself as you stare at it. Perfect length, girth, and a thick, cut head that you know just by looking that you’re going to have to stretch your jaw to get around. All his hair is neatly trimmed and groomed, and he even smells good, clean and fresh like soap. You’ve never been in front of a dick that didn’t smell like day-old ball sweat, so this is a first. It’s got a nice upward curve, too, and there’s a bead of pearly precum oozing out of the tip. The kind of cock that’s made for penetrative orgasms—

No. Fuck. You cannot be thinking this. You cannot allow yourself to lust after a gang leader who thinks of you as little more than an interactive sex doll. A tingle of blood rushes to your cheeks as you feel wetness pool in your panties and you adjust your stance, shuffling your thighs apart under the pretense of getting closer and hoping Overhaul doesn’t notice.

If he notices, he does the merciful thing and keeps quiet (which makes you think he has no idea you’re feeling the way you’re feeling, because he’s probably never chosen to do the merciful thing in his life). He does, however, shift one of his knees farther apart to accommodate you as you crawl close enough to him to get your head all the way between his legs.

So now you’re staring up at that unfairly pretty cock and wondering how the fuck this is supposed to start, but—best just get on with it. Pretend it’s not him, pretend it’s…no, wait, pretend it is him, it is Overhaul, the same bastard who’s looking down at you like you’re trash, except pretend you’re in control. Because no matter how many orders he gives, once you’ve got his cock in his mouth he’ll have to be the weak one. Right?

Lightly, slowly, you trace the tip of your tongue in a wet path up the underside of his cock, sliding up from the hilt to caress every bulging vein with all the delicacy and accuracy of a surgeon. When you reach the tip, you flatten your tongue to curve it around that bulbous head and then slip it off, the suction providing a wet smacking sound as your skin leaves his.

The breath of his barely-heavier exhale ruffles your hair and you relish the knowledge that he’s getting impatient. Yes. The bastard can wait.

You kiss the tip of his cock, barely moving your lips around the slit, only enough to let your tongue flick out against the precum and gather the bitter liquid up in your mouth. And then—right when he’s getting annoyed, when you can tell by the tension in his body that he’s five seconds away from shoving your head down to fuck your face—you duck closer, relax your throat, and swallow.

Like a fucking python. Or so you’ve been told.

The exhale that escapes him isn’t light this time. You can almost hear the barest hint of a groan under his breath, but you’re more focused on holding down your gag reflex as you let that heavy cock hit the back of your throat. Once he’s all the way down (or at least as far as you can get him), you rock yourself back an inch and then take him deeper, forcing yourself to hold still so he can feel the walls of your throat convulse around him, sucking him in, dry-gagging on the mass that’s filling you up.

“Fuuuuck,” you hear someone whine, and it’s not even Overhaul. It’s one of the men watching, and you feel a perverse mixture of hatred and arrogance rise up in you.

Overhaul’s cock is too big for you to properly moan around it, but you give it a go anyway so he can feel the vibration of your voice through his skin. You’re rewarded with a tangible twitch with it sitting on your tongue, and—oh—your mouth is watering out of where you’re clenching down on him at the back of your throat.

Spittle slips out over your lower lip and onto your chin, but you ignore it in favor of jerking your head up and down in fractional strokes, trying your absolute best to get yourself down to his base but knowing that he probably doesn’t give a shit anyway, not with how good your throat feels around what you’re capable of stuffing in.

What were you saying about ‘valuable’, sir? you think, and then you pull your head off his cock, so slow it’s almost cruel, sucking your cheeks in and hollowing out so those wet walls are rubbing up on every millimeter of his skin. When you reach the tip, you savor it, letting your tongue do the dirty work and looking up at him through your lash extensions before you release him with a nasty wet pop.

“Holy fuck, can I have her next?” one of the other men says, but you and Overhaul are too focused on each other to even look and see who’s talking.

His gaze is trained firmly down at you, and—no way, damn it—he looks bored, like he could be waiting in line at the DMV instead of getting sucked off by you, a girl who’s been complimented by every man she’s ever been with (including her first) on her bj technique. You know he’s feeling it—he can fake calm, but he can’t fake the way his cock’s throbbing under your tongue as you lick up the shaft. Still, now that you’ve got it in your head that Overhaul’s not going to make a sound, all you can think about is forcing him to moan. Let him look weak in front of all his little lackeys.

With renewed vigor, you lap up the length of Overhaul’s cock in sloppy dabs, leaving strings of saliva dripping off your mouth and his cock only to slurp them up, audibly, wiggling your tongue over the tip when you reach it. And that, that gets him, because you feel more than see the buck of his hips into your face as he hisses out a curse.

And—oh dear, maybe you shouldn’t have done that—because the next thing you feel is Overhaul looming forward over you, hand gripping the back of your head, and is he going to force you down? You hate that—so you take the initiative, tilting forward to take him into your mouth again, head bobbing up and down so quickly that your hair is falling all over your face, but it’s okay, because he’s got you, he’s got you, got his hands combed through your hair holding it out of your face, pulling so lightly it barely even hurts, but it does hurt, and he’s guiding you up and down on his cock and it’s hitting the back of your throat every time, and—and it hurts.

You really shouldn’t have done that.

“Take it deeper,” Overhaul instructs, almost encouraging, although you’re not given the option to pull off because he’s holding you down, pushing you firmly toward the base of his cock. You sputter around it, gagging, and you’re almost fucking choking, and he won’t let you up.

God, you’re not—not breathing, you can feel your throat choking down on him—“breathe through your nose,” he says, and this man, this villain has no idea what he’s fucking talking about, because you’re trying, eyes stinging and then you can feel tears down your cheeks. You try to squirm back on your knees, but somehow the combined force of every muscle in your body is outmatched by his single hand on the back of your head—and—and—you squeeze your eyes shut, relax, open your throat as much as you can and—

Overhaul forces your mouth down to the hilt.

Fuck, is he going to keep you there? You can’t, you can’t—if you could move, you’d be shaking your head and begging him to let you stop and as it is you’re whimpering around his cock. Your throat is making gagging noises and you’re crying, actually crying, actually fucking crying on a man’s dick. So this is what it feels like to be used?

“Good.” There’s something lower and darker in Overhaul’s voice, a husky undertone from the growl he’s trying to suppress. “Hold still…remember, you asked for this.”

You did. You asked for it. Begged for it. Pleaded.

“Want me to forgive your father’s debt…? You’re going to have to earn it.” He pulls out an inch just to ram himself back in. You make a weak attempt to move your tongue around his shaft and you can feel the shudder all the way through him, his cock twitching where it’s locked in your throat. “Mm…good girl. Just a little—little longer—“

His fingers are tightening in your hair, curling around the strands and tugging instead of just applying pressure to your head. He’s close, you think, and then you struggle back, not wanting him to cum down your throat, what if you choke on it? Like, really choke? You don’t want it, don’t want his cum in your stomach, but then he sighs and tells you again that you’re a good girl, and ohfuckohfuck you must be so scared you’re desperate for praise because you feel heat rush into your cheeks and your cunt when he says it and you try to move your tongue like you did earlier and his hips jerk forward and—he cums. In your mouth.

It’s salty, you think. The next thing you think is that you want to gag, because you’ve never had cum in your mouth before. For all your sexual experimentation, you’ve never let a man cum down your throat like this, always telling them it shoot it on your tits or whatever because you are not a person who should have semen in her mouth, much less ingest it.

But right now, with Overhaul lazily dragging your head up and down for a last couple pumps on his softening dick, your choice isn’t spit or swallow. It’s swallow or choke.

Hot. Thick. The texture is slimy, so viscous you can feel it going down your throat in strings. Part of you wants to throw up. It’s repulsive. Filthy. You hate this.

Part of you has to shift your position again so you don’t have to feel your own wetness slicking up the insides of your thighs.

How. Is. This. Possible. You may have just had to swallow your pride (and not just that), but what about your dignity? You’re a good person…okay, well, even if you’re not a ‘good person’ per se, you don’t hurt anyone with your selfishness. You don’t deserve to be kept as a pet by a sadistic bastard who gets off on watching you almost pass out on his cock, and you certainly don’t deserve the humiliation of finding that you’re turned on by it.

And yet. Here you are. Still held securely in place until Overhaul slides you off him. As soon as your mouth is free you suck in a dizzyingly deep breath, but even that is too much for your battered throat and the breath turns into a cough; you instinctively fold down away from Overhaul so the mixed saliva and cum you’re hacking out spatters in cloudy white flecks across the floor instead of on his clothing.

“Stop that,” Overhaul scolds, hauling you back up by your hair and forcing your mouth closed with a hand on your jaw. “If you make a mess, you’ll be cleaning it up.”

Considering what he just made you do to him, there’s no doubt in your mind that he’s implying you’ll have to lick it off the floor. You clench your jaw, holding back the convulsions of your throat as best you can, and hope he doesn’t press the issue.

Now that you’ve got your coughing under control, you can start to sense things that you had been tuning out before: the men hooting and wolf-whistling and applauding your performance, the traitorously persistent throb of your clit pulsing under your panties, and Overhaul’s hand releasing your chin to pet down your neck. “Now. What do you say when someone gives you a meal?”

Just you wait, bastard. I’m going to tie you to your bed and set fire to it. But you’ve got the sense that that answer won’t go over well, so you take a deep breath and look up at him again, meeting those piercing gold eyes with your own. “Thank you, sir,” you say in a soft whisper because it’s all your abused throat can manage.

“That’s right.” His hands feel colder than the concrete under your legs as he spreads his hand down your neck, only to toy with one of the lacy pink straps of your nightdress. “Stand up.”

You stand shakily, too cowed to even consider stepping back from him. Without warning (much less permission), Overhaul lifts the hem of your stupidly short dress up past your thighs, exposing your panties and lower belly to view.

“Hold this in your mouth,” he says, and after only a few seconds of hesitation you open up and bite down on the fabric so you’re effectively holding up the skirt for him. Overhaul skims gloved hands down the sides of your hips and comes to a rest when he reaches your panties—and why did you have to wear these today? Shiny red satin in the front; the back is just flowers worked in crimson lace. You know exactly how good you look in these panties, and judging by the things Overhaul’s men are saying, they’re more than appreciative of the view.

But Overhaul ignores them in favor of hooking his fingers under the elastic and pulling the panties down until they’re resting stretched between your upper thighs. You don’t have to see them to know there’s a string of slick connecting the lips of your cunt to the fabric, betraying in full technicolor detail how turned on you’ve gotten just from sucking him off. He gazes down at your pussy and then up to you as if waiting for you to admit it, but you stay silent.

“Well, well. What a nicely-trained slut I’ve found myself.” He gracelessly pulls the panties the rest of the way down your legs and lets them fall to the ground. “Do you always get this wet when you let your boyfriends fuck that smart mouth?”

It takes you a second to comprehend that he’s expecting an answer. “N-No, sir,” you reply, voice muffled by the fabric you’re still holding between your teeth.

“I suppose I can’t leave you like this, not after you took me so nicely.”

Does he mean he’s going to get you off? No freaking way. You drop the hem of your dress, let it flutter down over your thighs, try to scramble back, but his hand on your waist keeps you from moving. “I— It’s okay, I don’t need—“

“No, I think you do. I think I’m going to reward my pet for a job well done.” He leans back, eyeing you without sympathy. “I’d have you touch yourself, but—“

The mere possibility that he might remove the handcuffs has you straining against them again, and the sound of metal against metal rings out from behind you.

“—but, I think it’s best to keep the cuffs on for a few days…until you’ve settled down.”

Days? He can’t leave you in chains for days, helpless and powerless, so easy to take advantage of. “You can’t,” you whimper, and even though you mean for it to be a decisive statement, with your throat ravaged and hoarse it’s downright pathetic. Overhaul doesn’t even bother reprimanding you for talking back.

“My men have been patient,” he muses, and an enthusiastic wave of agreement wells up from the others. “Any of them would be happy to do it.”

You may have been through a lot in the past hour alone, but there is no way you’re going to let those rowdy criminals have their way with you. You send a nervous glance around the room and as predicted, not a single one of them looks like they have the slightest shred of control over themselves.

None of them…except Overhaul.

Still eased back in his chair, he looks just as relaxed and unaffected as he did when he was explaining your father’s debts to you. But there’s something flickering in his eyes, something he isn’t going to say to you, isn’t going to say out loud. A challenge.

Maybe, once again, he’s waiting for you to ask for it yourself. And if it’s a choice between him and one of the grimy ruffians who’ve been looking at you like dogs look at meat, you know what you’d prefer. Well—really, you’d prefer option C: none of the above (your current state might be uncomfortable, but you’re not so wanton that you’d rather cum in front of strangers than keep your legs together). Unfortunately, you’re starting to come to terms with the fact that ‘no’ is no longer an option.

Overhaul’s stare flicks from you to an unseen figure behind you, and you can tell he’s about to summon one of them over so you force yourself to move, lurching forward and climbing into his lap to straddle one of his thighs with all the grace you’re capable of. You feel the stir in the air when he inhales sharply, surprised, and his masked face is so close to your neck that you wonder if he can smell the lotion you put on before you went to bed last night.

It’s one of your favorite scents: vanilla, lilac, orange blossoms. You bought it because it smelled pure.

“Please, sir, I don’t want them,” you breathe next to his ear, injecting every ounce of sexual frustration you’re feeling into the needy tones of your voice. “I’m yours. I belong to you, just you. No one else—please, sir…Overhaul.”

He’s quiet for a long, tense moment, and you think he’s going to hit you, or maybe even kill you for your disobedience. Push you off his lap at least. But just when you’re teetering on the edge of jumping back from him and begging for forgiveness for talking out of turn, you feel it—a low rumble of laughter from deep in his chest.

Big, cold hands wrap around the sides of your ribcage under your breasts and his fingernails dig into you through the layers of latex and fabric. He tilts forward, forcing you to arch away and all you can think about is how horribly weak you are compared to him. Are you trembling? Will he be angry if you feels how afraid you are?

“You know, I guess I’ll keep you after all,” he hums, stroking his fingers through your hair and down your neck. “How does that sound, princess? I think you’d like that very much, wouldn’t you?”

“Yes, sir.” The response comes all too easily, even if the words taste bitter in your mouth. You’ve never said the word ‘sir’ so much in your life…but as he repositions you on his lap and slides a single hand up the inside of your thigh under your dress, you bite your lip and decide to hold back your protest.

If you’re going to have to learn manners, you’d better do it sooner rather than later. Something tells you Overhaul’s not going to accept any less than your best behavior if you want to pay off your debt.

[strawberrymilkgeorge]

Part Two. Jackbox Shenanigans

warnings: swearing word count: 2.6k (not including pictures) behind the screen (irl dream x reader) series masterlist ultimate masterlist

Y/n flinched awake, startled by the sounds traveling from the kitchen. Once again, the frosty air pricked her skin, trying to convince her to not move, to stay in bed under the warm blankets. Despite the feeling pulling her into her bed, she rubbed her eyes and sat up, grabbing her phone from her nightstand. Texts from Karl flooded her screen and she replied as she took her comforter off her mattress and wrapped it around herself. She pattered to the source of the noise to find her roommate was making food.

"Sorry, did I wake you?" Naomi asked, eyes wide with concern as she looked at Y/n. "I dropped a pan."

Y/n, who was observing the world through one squinted eye, shook her head and she sat at the counter in the kitchen. "No, I should be awake anyway."

"You're usually awake much earlier. Late night?"

Y/n nodded. "George streamed and we all talked for a little after."

"Oh, yeah, I watched his stream this morning..." she started, eyes focused on the food in front of her but Y/n still caught the mischievous glint in her roommate's eyes.

"Of course you did," Y/n laughed through a yawn. "That's your lover."

Naomi rolled her eyes. "Maybe if you gave me his number he would be."

"He doesn't give it to many people. I just barely got it and I've been friends with him for a year. I'm pretty sure Karl doesn't even have it."

Naomi groaned, though Y/n knew it was a joke... for the most part. She got another text from Karl, and consulted Naomi for a second opinion.

"Should I post this?" Y/n asked, lazily holding up her phone with a picture on the screen. Naomi squinted as she looked back over her shoulder. "Karl keeps yelling at me too."

"Yeah! That's a cute outfit. Make sure to credit Karl or he'll yell at you for that as well."

"No chance I'm doing that."

.

Incoming FaceTime... karol <3

Y/n hit accept and held the phone up to make a face at Karl. He mimicked the position. "Hello, sir."

"Hello, ma'am."

"What are you doing?" she asked him, walking to the bathroom to brush her teeth, her comforter dragging on the floor behind her as it continued to protect her from the cold.

Karl got distracted and started messing with something out of the camera view. "Um, trying to figure out what to do for my stream tonight. What about you?"

"I'm waiting for you to give me a fit check!" Y/n yelled. Karl quickly looked at the camera and smiled. He set his phone down on his desk and ran backward so his whole body was in frame. He posed awkwardly a few different ways before running back and resuming his position.

"Yes!" Y/n hyped with a mouthful of toothpaste. "Let's go, Karl! Karl with the old man sweater!!"

He giggled. "You're the one that told me to buy it."

"Because it's sick. Doesn't mean it didn't belong to an old man before you."

Karl pouted before his face lit up. "Guess what. I met a girl."

"Oh?" Y/n cooed. "Where? Do you have pictures? Is she cute?"

"She's Jimmy's new cameraman. Camerawoman. I don't have pictures, and yes. She's very cute." His cheeks turned red and Y/n smiled, flipping off the bathroom light and heading to her closet. She threw her comforter back on the bed and tried to pick out an outfit.

"Come on, bud, elaborate. What's her name? Have you asked her out yet?"

"You don’t get to know her name, I don’t want to jinx anything. Plus, you’ll just look ‘Mr Beast crew’ and find out anyway. Also, no, I haven’t. I'm pretty sure she thinks I hate her because I have not said a single word to her. I get so nervous when she's around I freeze up and just like... act weird. And then as soon as she's gone, Chris freaking roasts me so bad."

"Aw, I can teach you how to flirt if you want!"

"Yeah, okay," he scoffed, sarcasm dripping from his words.

"What's with the attitude? I'm great at flirting."

"No, you're not. I watched Gogy's stream last night."

"What does that have anything to do with anything?"

"I heard the way you spoke to Dream."

"What?!"

"You have zero game, Y/n. Absolutely none. Zilch, if you will."

"Yeah, because I wasn't flirting with him?"

"Not successfully, at least."

"Karl, what?" Y/n laughed but she was so confused. "No part of me was trying to flirt with anyone in that stream."

"Oh, come on," Karl groaned. "Don't do this again. Don't pretend to not like a guy and then cry to me when you're wack ass attempts don't win him over."

"Karl," Y/n started, looking directly at him. "I genuinely have no idea what you're talking about. I wasn't flirting with him. I do not like him."

"I'm just saying, you talk about him a lot. Like, you always panic when he interacts with your posts because you're scared he's going to DM you right after. And you gush about him a lot."

"I do not gush. I admire the hard work he puts into his videos but I talk the same about him as I do with George and Sapnap. The only difference is I'm friends with them and not Mr. Minecraft. He's intimidating, that doesn't mean I have a crush on him."

Karl stared for a moment, trying to read Y/n's expression to detect any lies. "You'd tell me if you did, right?"

"Karl, I tell you everything. I'd tell you if I murdered your family." They both laughed. "It's impossible to hide anything from you, you're my best friend."

"Okay, sweet, but please don't murder my family, just to be clear."

"I won't. I love your mom too much."

"Well, how was meeting Dream, then? Despite apparently not being in love with him?"

"It was cool. Terrifying because it felt very forced but the four of us hung out on the call after George ended his stream and he was much more relaxed."

"That's true. Aren't we all?"

"Not you! You're the exact same person on and off camera. Just a little ball of giggles."

Karl giggled which made them both laugh more. Suddenly, as if he completely forgot until that moment, Karl sat up quickly and yelled, "What am I going to do for the stream?"

Y/n shrugged. "See if anyone wants to play Jackbox. Chat always loves those and it's relatively easy to throw together last minute. You just need to find people that are free to play."

"Genius. Who should we invite?"

"We?"

"Yeah. It was your idea, you have to play."

"But, I've never played! And I barely know all your friends so I wouldn't get half the inside jokes. I'd be a boring addition."

"Please? They're your friends too! You just talked to Sapnap and George for four hours yesterday and George was the only one playing anything. That's friendship if I've ever seen it."

"But... others.... like literally everyone besides Sap and George...."

"Things like this are how you get to know them better. Besidessss, you're never boring."

"Fine, I'll play."

"YES!" he shouted. "Okay, who should we invite?"

**********

**********

Y/n huffed and scooted her chair closer to her desk. She pulled up Discord and hovered over the voice chat everyone was in. An overwhelming number of voices chaotically spoke over each other as soon as she joined.

"Oh no," she mumbled.

"AYYEE!!" a voice yelled, the green bubble lighting around Quackity's name confirming her suspicions.

"Aye," she said back less enthusiastic. "Hi everyone."

"She's here!" George cheered.

Y/n could hear Sapnap huff. "Finally. Geesh."

"This isn't even your stream, calm down." Y/n's eyes scanned the names on the left to read who else was involved in tonight's games. She had suggested a few people to Karl but wasn't sure about the final list. Besides the boys who had already greeted her were BadBoyHalo and Dream.

"Hello, Bugsy! It's nice to meet you! I'm BadBoyHalo."

Y/n smiled widely at his voice. "Hi, BadBoyHalo! Nice to meet you too."

Her eyes slowly traveled to the last name on the list, which had yet to greet her. She wasn't bitter, but she was curious why he hadn't said anything yet. The boys hyped up him talking about her so much but she had yet to feel that energy from him. She picked at the bottom of her hoodie, eyes darting between the names as they lit up when someone spoke.

"Is Dream still AFK?" Sapnap asked.

"I think so," Bad replied.

Maybe that's the only reason he hadn't said anything. Y/n felt stupid for thinking it had anything to do with her.

"He's probably coding something or something like that," George teased.

"Haha nerdy ass man," Quackity cackled.

"Language."

"Don't you also code shit, George?" Sapnap called out. "You're probably helping him test something after this, huh? As Quackity said, nerdy ass man."

"You know what, Sapnap? I'm not sure I like your attitude all that much."

Y/n smiled. Despite feeling nervous, she was already having fun just listening to everyone talk. The real nerves would kick in when they were live in front of tens of thousands of people and she would have to be funny.

A message popped up in the general chat, notifying everyone that Karl was joining the voice call soon so they shouldn't say anything bad.

"Everyone say something weird," Quackity directed.

Discord dinged and Karl's name joined the list on the side. "AAAHHHH-!" he started yelling over everyone to let them know he was here in case they were saying anything bad. With his luck, they were going to say stuff anyway to mess with him.

"So, yeah, that's how I lost my virginity," Quackity said as if he just finished a story.

"To a prostitute?" Sapnap added quickly. "Wow, I never thought you... oh Karl!"

"Language!" Bad gasped.

"What the..." Karl laughed loudly. "What did I just join?"

"Oh, sorry, sorry, sorry," Quackity apologized, which was hard to make out since he was laughing so hard, surprised at what Sapnap added to his joke.

"Bad, you can't say language about a prostitute," Sapnap defended. "That's really rude of you. Maybe it's a little unconventional but they're just tryna make some money the best way they know how."

George laughed with Quackity as Bad sputtered. "I-I said language about what Quackity said!"

"What, virginity?" Karl asked innocently and Bad yelled again.

"Bad hates people who have had sex!" Y/n called, causing Quackity to laugh loudly.

"Bad! How could you?! That's so messed up!"

"Wait, guys, is everyone here?" Karl asked.

"Dream isn't. We don't know where he went."

Karl groaned and started typing something, presumably yelling at Dream to join.

"Let's goooo! We're popping off!" Quackity started saying, stalling. "We're popping off!" George joined him, becoming absolute fools to keep the chat entertained.

"Okay, he's here!" Karl said. "Everyone's here!"

"I'm here, I'm here, sorry. I was... yeah, sorry," Dream stuttered out.

"Welcome back, Dream!" Bad chirped.

"Hello!" he replied. Unexpectedly, his next greeting was directed at Y/n. "Hi, Bug."

Y/n instantly got shy for no discernable reason. She blamed it on his voice and its ability to manipulate emotions any way he wanted. That and she was getting attention from someone first. "Hi," she squeaked back, hoping the contrast of her icy hands would cool her face enough to focus on the game.

"Bugsy, you are adorable," Bad stated simply.

"Sapnap! What did you just send me?" George asked loudly, and just like that, the attention was off of her and she could breathe again.

"What?" Sapnap feigned innocence.

This was going to be a long game.

"Let's play!" Karl decided. "Should we warm up with some Quippy?"

Y/n focused intensely on her answers, silently hoping the others would find her funny.

"Oh my gosh," she mumbled as everyone else finished writing. "Y'all, I'm about to get Quiplashed so hard. Don't make fun of me."

"I seriously doubt it," Dream said. "You can't possibly be worse than George at this game."

"Shut up, we always-  it's like 3 am my time. I can't, like, think of things 'cause my brain isn't functioning."

"Yeah, that's why," Sapnap teased.

"Surreee," Dream said.

The first round wasn't too bad. Y/n was in 5th place but she got quite a few laughs so she didn't care too much about where she stood. She got a notification from Dream on Twitter as everyone laughed at one of Quackity's answers.

Y/n looked back at her screen and saw the new prompt and answers. She read them quickly as everyone was laughing and with a few seconds left to choose, voted for the one on the left. It was funnier anyway.

She loosened up substantially after another round, and she knew it was mostly because Dream had reached out to her. Something about him comforted her and made her feel safe, which warmed her heart.

"Bugsy! What the hell, that's so messed up. You're so messed up," Quackity yelled, laughing at the answer on the screen. They were playing Survive the Internet and her comment got taken way out of context, just as the game intended.

"Oh my gosh!" Karl cackled loudly. "Bugsy, I didn't know you felt that way. Oh my gosh? They're just kids?? Bugsy out the gang?"

Y/n hid her face in her hands and laughed. "Noooo!! Wait I never knew- I didn't know I was ever in the gang?"

"She really said, 'infant children? slaughter them all'," Sapnap joked.

"You know, I think you'd get along really well with Technoblade," Dream added. "Though his specialty is orphans, as it appears."

"No, no, no, whoever wrote that heading is SO messed up!" Y/n defended, rereading the heading that made her comment look bad. She knew it was a game but all the attention on her was making her embarrassed. "Who would think to put that?"

"Everyone cancel Busgy!" Karl yelled.

"Karl, no! You're supposed to be my best friend!"

"I don't know how I feel about my best friend killing children..."

"Karl!!"

"Nooo," Bad protested softly. "I like Bugsy. Don't cancel her."

"Everyone vote!"

The article with Y/n's name turned out to be Dream's. "Dream! What the hell is wrong with you?" she yelled, causing him to wheeze loudly.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry! I wanted point."

The whole night ended up being like that. Y/n had a lot of fun and by the end, she felt a lot more comfortable with all of them. Quackity, Karl, and Sapnap were loud and very high energy while George and Bad were quieter. Dream was half and half, sometimes matching Quackity's volume and sometimes going a while without saying a word. Overall, Y/n had a lot of fun and hoped to let back in the gang in the future.

**********

PREVIOUS • NEXT

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A/N: WOOO PART TWOOO!! Hope you guys enjoyed this part! Also thank you so much for all the love on the first part!! I did not expect it to get as much attention as it did!!!!!

we clearly haven’t got to dream and yn being close yet bc they literally met the day before this but i added a small little dream/yn moment :] pls let me know how you liked this part!!!!!!!!!!!! 

taglist: OPEN (at the time) @hydrate-tion @loraleiix @tinaswagbd @charsdummb @smileyyuta @1ghoste1 @cerberus-hellhound @gaysludge @queestionmark @carnations-red @letsloveimagines @the-fictionwriters-hairdo @boiled-onionrings @a-cryptic @fee-btheweeb @letsloveimagines @erwinss @just-a-stan

[ks-dreams-fantasies]

They want us together - Vinnie Hacker

Picture’s not mine

I know my last post were about Rio and Johnny , and Vinnie has nothing to do with them, but he is one of my favorite dudes so ... Hope you enjoy it 

Vinnie Fluff

Warning : Language

Word Count : 1.4k

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Bzzzz bzzzz

Your phone buzzed, indicating Vinnie was live. It was rare of him to do so since he was more likely to stream on twitch. You opened your phone, tapping on the app as you entered his live. You watched as more people are joining in and commenting in hopes of Vinnie noticing them.

“Hey guys, hope you are all having a good day! I wanted to hop on in since it’s been a while, I was thinking of just chatting for a bit and I’ll probably go annoy the others” he said chuckling a little. His eyes were moving fast trying to read as many comments as possible.

“SUP FOOL 😝” you write down, as everyone commented that you were watching Vinnie’s live.

He chuckled “Hi (Y/N), weren’t you supposed to be here like an hour ago?”

See, you were kind of popular on social media and you had made some friends over at the Hype house over the past months. When Vinnie moved in, you hit it off quite fast with him. You had a lot of mutual interests and you would always laugh when you were around him. Being in the public eyes wasn’t always easy. Vinnie had everyone drooling over him and you being around, got you a lot of hate.

On the contrary, a lot of people were shipping you, saying you had the same vibe and that you’d look good together. Vinnie was attractive, no denying that, but everything isn’t about looks. He’d always been nice to you, supporting and encouraging you through everything and you’d do the same for him. He was easy to talk to and everyone could see that you’ve grown closer and had a genuine connection.

“I’m in a uber heading over to the house” you typed as he read your message.

You continued watching for a bit as he answered some question as you got off commenting that you’d arrive soon.

Once you logged off, Vinnie spoke “Ok guys, what do you say we prank (Y/N) when she gets here?” He said smiling eagerly planning something with his followers. “I’ll go downstairs now”

As the gate opened, leading your uber driver, onto the path to the big mansion, Vinnie runs to the front of the house, hiding in the bushes next to the door, ready to scare you.

“Ok guys, she’s pulling up now, get ready to laugh” He snickered trying to stay silent so you wouldn’t notice him.

You got out of the car and started walking towards the front door when Vinnie came out of nowhere scaring the hell out of you. One hand flying to your chest as you let out a scream of terror while Vinnie laughed is ass of at your reaction.

“Guys! Did you see that? Shit was hilarious” He continued almost dying of laughter.

“Shut up you asshole” You said chuckling lightly as you slapped him on his chest. “You really got me there” you smiled sweetly at him.

“I’ll leave you to this, guys. I’ll talk to you soon, probably streaming tomorrow as well. Bye” He said as both of you waved before he ended the live. You got inside, going straight to the kitchen where everyone was already chilling.

“(Y/N)!” Michael stood up drink in hand, standing next to you while giving you a side hug. “Can I get you anything to drink?”

“Whatever you’re having is fine with me” You smiled greeting everyone. Michael came back, handing you a rum and coke.

You all catch up for a bit when Alex spoke “What do you say we play never have I ever?” He said already a bit tipsy filming us all to get content for his vlog.

As most of us were down to do something other than just chatting, we decided to agree as Alex filled in his drink.  “Ok I’ll go first than” He said sitting down next to Kouvr.

“Never have I ever gone 24hours without showering” Pretty much everyone drank except for Vinnie, Mia and yourself.

“Why am I not surprised that you didn’t drink, boy’s always in the damn shower” you said laughing at Vinnie, referencing to all the thirst traps he posts.

You all continued to play for a bit, everyone having fun and laughing.

“Never have I ever fantasized about someone in this room” Michael said before taking a big gulp out of his drink, clearly too drunk to get the concept of the game anymore.

Thomas, Mia, Kouvr, Alex and Vinnie took one as well.

“Girl you better drink, cause I know for a fact you have” Mia said pointing at you as you blush taking a sip.

“Oh yeah who is it?” Michael asked smirking at you, bumping your shoulder with his.

Your eyes went to Vinnie for a quick second

“None of your goddamn business” You answered chuckling lightly as you continued to play for a little bit before everyone got tired.

You weren’t though, so you decided to go down to the pool while most of the others went to bed.

“Anyone wants to join me for a dip or are you all going to leave me by myself” you asked

‘Vinnie will join you. He never goes to sleep before 3 in the morning anyways” Thomas said smirking looking at the both of you.

“Uh yeah sure, let me just go get change and I’ll meet you back down here”

You went into the pool as you waited for Vinnie to come back. When he did, he jumped in, splashing you as you laughed. He came back to the surface and swam closer to you.

“Want to make a Tiktok with me” you agreed, plopping the phone near the stairs as you got in place to film a TikTok dance that was trending. You filmed yourselves a bunch of times since you couldn’t stop laughing at each other. Once you finally got a nice take, you ended the video by pushing Vinnie in the water his arms grabbing you dragging you along as you both feel in the pool.

You both were laughing as you came back to get some air and Vinnie posted the video on his account. Even though it was late, the video already got a lot of reactions, comments saying stuff about how hot he looked and how you too would make a great couple as people shipped you.

“People really want us together” He said chuckling as he stared down at me

He put his phone back near the table as he came back in the water approaching you.

“So, who’s the person you’ve been fantasizing about huh?” he asked getting closer to you as the words left his mouth, a smirk plastered on his face.

“No one” you shrugged blushing “Let me remind you that you drank too, so who’s the person you’ve been fantasizing about?” you asked as you grinned back.

“You” he said boldly looking directly into your eyes. “I mean I like you (Y/N). I’m myself when I’m with you and you always make me laugh at the simplest things. I don’t want to lie and say I never thought about kissing you before because I have. In fact, I’m always think about kissing you”

“Are you thinking about kissing me right now?”

“Yeah I mean –“ You cut him off pressing your lips to his. He kisses you back as his hands flew to your hips pulling you in closer to his body. His tongue peaks out just enough against you bottom lip for you to open your mouth a little bit more, as you whimpered against him. His lips were softer than you’d ever thought they’d be, and they meld perfectly against yours. Your hands made their way trough his hair, tugging a bit as you got more into the kiss, making him let out a small groan. You could feel him smile against your lips as you pulled away to get some air. Once you open your eyes, Vinnie is already looking at you, his eyes piercing your soul.

“I like you too Vinnie, I have for a while now” you said blushing avoiding his stare.

He grabbed you by your chin pulling you closer as he pecked your lips, laughing afterward. He looked so good, his hair dripping, his eyes sparkling with joy and his lips swollen caused by the kiss you just shared.

“So, I guess everyone was right about us huh?”

“I guess they were” you giggled leaning towards him as you cuddled and made out all night.

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Thank you for reading

Hope you like it, let me know what you think

-K