#c: resistance money

[emeraldspiral]

So another interesting thing about Jane Eyre is its take on relationship inequality.

Like, Jane is 18 at the beginning of the story and Rochester is said to be something like 35-38. And it's not casually brushed aside like that was normal back in the day. It wasn't. Concerns about the age gap are raised within the text. But the story emphasizes that Jane feels comfortable accepting Rochester's proposal, despite the age difference, the class difference, and him being her boss, because Jane feels that Rochester regards her as an equal. When they converse, Jane doesn't feel any tension, like she has to impress him or try to read his mind and say whatever he wants to hear. She feels that he respects her and values her thoughts and isn't compelled to use his power against her if she says something to displease him. Around the midpoint of the story, Jane believes that Rochester is going to marry another woman, and resolves to leave because she's heartbroken, believing that because she is poor and plain Rochester can't possibly be as hurt by their parting as she is, and he'll forget her and move on long before she does. But it turns out to be the opposite. After finding out about Bertha, Rochester begs Jane to stay and insists he'll be miserable forever without her, while Jane, still thinking she's too poor and plain to ever attract someone like him again, resists all temptation and leaves him. And she does this specifically because she feels that if she were to compromise her morals and self-respect to be Mr. Rochester's mistress, then he would lose respect for her and the relationship would fall apart. It was only by maintaining her integrity that the relationship could stay in-tact when the reconciled at the end.

St. John Rivers on the other hand, I don't think is given a definite age, but I think he's intended to be a much younger man, probably in his early 20s. He is poor and without relations aside from his sisters or any other connections, just as Jane. Jane finds out they're actually cousins at the same time she learns she's come into a vast fortune that was willed to her rather than the Rivers, but decides to share her fortune equally with them. So she arguably had more social capital, even though she made an effort to put St. John on equal footing with her, because the money was hers by right and she could've presumably cut him off at any time, just as easily as Rochester could've terminated Jane from her job.

And yet, Jane's relationship with St. John is vastly more unequal than her relationship with Rochester. Even though Jane practically worshiped Rochester but only cares for St. John as a brother and is acutely aware of his faults, she still finds herself desperately craving his approval in a way she never did with Rochester. And St. John is willing to exploit that intentionally. He asks her to do things she doesn't want to and make sacrifices for him just because he knows she'll do anything to please him, and that's why he thinks she's the perfect wife for him. Where Rochester tries to explain himself and persuade Jane not to leave him by addressing her concerns, St. John basically tries to command Jane to marry him and refuses to accept her "no" as final. He withholds affection from Jane as a tactic to get her to compromise in order to reconcile with him when he's the one who should be apologizing to her and considering her needs and not just his own. Jane knows that she can't ever be happy with him because he doesn't respect her and his lack of respect only makes her want to seek his approval, which he is all too happy to exploit for his own benefit.

But Jane ultimately stays firm and rejects St. John's proposal of a loveless marriage, just as she rejected Rochester's proposal of an unlawful marriage, because both situations were doomed to fail if she didn't put her own self-respect first.

So this novel from 1847 was really saying that power dynamics aren't pure black and white. Age and class and wealth and status can be a factor in making a relationship unequal, but you can also be equal on pretty much all social axis and still have inequality in a relationship. What's really important is that there's mutual respect.

[angelbwrry]

doe eyed gal. kento nanami. 6k.

cw ᯓᡣ𐭩 nsfw link, oral, feet-fucking, squirting,creaming,hair pulling,handcuffs,anal plug,vibrator,spanking,unprotected sex, umm reader is on the thicker side (yummy), black bimbo,dirty talk.omfg I think that’s all . . . i lied, older!nanami has a crush on his young college neighbor! he luvvvvs watching you through his upstairs window. ironically, he’s also a police officer. woop woop!

a/n ᯓᡣ𐭩 i made a poll and daddy nanami won sooo, enjoy? i also based some of this on project x lollll. okay bye!

kento nanami never thought he’d be crushing on someone almost ten years younger than him. he thought it was nice when you’d moved in next door; the neighborhood didn’t get many new people in the area often. he would be lying if he said he hadn’t pulled back his blinds to watch as you moved your things in. hell, it was damn near impossible not to look at you.

with that tight mini skirt that your ass peeked from underneath and that cropped shirt that showed off your sparkling belly ring, the way your hair had swished in the wind, the way your smile was bright when you laughed—he found it all extremely enticing.

it’d become a part of his daily routine to peer at you through his blinds.on one hand, he was intrigued by your youthful energy and carefree spirit. you brought a certain vibrancy to the neighborhood that had been missing for a while. on the other hand, he was frustrated by the way you seemed to effortlessly capture his attention. it was as if you had some kind of magnetic pull that he couldn’t resist, and it irritated him to no end.

every time he caught a glimpse of you, his mind would wander. he often found himself thinking about what it would be like with you underneath him, how your moans would sound. were they whiny? deep? high?

he imagined what your voice sounded like, the sound of your laughter up close,the way your eyes might light up when you talked about something you were passionate about. but then, he’d shake his head, reminding himself that there was no point in entertaining such thoughts. after all, there was a significant age gap between you two, and he had no business getting involved with someone so much younger.

yet, despite his best efforts to ignore his hot younger neighbor, he couldn’t. he’d roll his eyes when you’d lead yet another guy by the hand into the house, a pang of jealousy rippling through his body. he put money on it that he could fuck you better than they ever could. he didn’t care if he was being irrational, he couldn’t push those thoughts of you from his mind, you plagued it.

currently, nanami kento is outside cutting his grass with a lush lawnmower. it’d been raining all week, and now that the sun was out, he was going to use this opportunity to get some work done on the outside of his home. the lawnmower hummed rhythmically as he pushed it across the yard, its blades slicing through the thick, wet grass. sweat glistened on his inked muscles, tracing rivulets down his arms and chest. the sun beamed off his tanned olive skin, highlighting the intricate designs of his tattoos. the air was filled with the fresh scent of cut grass, and the sound of birds chirping added a serene backdrop to his labor.

he figured you weren’t home today since he didn’t see your blue honda outside, he was kind of bummed. usually, he’d pay someone to cut his grass due to his busy schedule. but this time he’d decided to do it himself, a part of him hoping he’d finally get a chance to speak to you. just his luck you wouldn’t be home. why the fuck was he acting like some lovesick teenager? that was just the effect you had on him.

he’s startled as he feels a pair of cold hands against his shoulders. he quickly spins around, meeting those familiar brown eyes he’d seen from the window many times. fuck, you’re even sexier up close. your dark hair is pulled into two pigtails with pink bows holding them in place, big lips lined with brown with a glossy coat, your makeup is a dewy pristine canvas, wispy lashes framing your big brown doe eyes perfectly.

his dick twitches as you suck a lollipop, eyes staring into his vibrant brown ones as you pop it out of your mouth with an innocent smile. fuck. you have to be doing this on purpose, were you? the way your tongue slowly swirled around the candy before pulling it out was almost hypnotic. the sweet scent of the lollipop mixed with the faint aroma of your perfume, creating an intoxicating blend that made it hard for him to think straight.

“m’sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.i’m ʚ♡ɞ,” you giggle, extending your hand to the older man. your eyes unashamedly eye-fuck him; he’s cute . . . for an older man. a pair of black sweatpants hang dangerously low on his hips, his broad, strong frame slicked with sweat. and the tattoos? chef’s fucking kiss. his striking dirty blonde hair is slicked back with sweat, and god you’re a slut for a man with pretty eyes. whoever’s son this was, they had created a damn masterpiece.

nanami swallows thickly, eyes trailing your body. you’re wearing a tied crop top, juicy brown breasts spilling from the thin material. he’s pretty fucking sure you aren’t wearing a bra, seeing as he can see your hard nipples pressing against your shirt. you’re wearing a white, almost too small bikini bottom, pussy lips straining against the material. he didn’t have a foot fetish but, he wouldn’t mind sucking on your manicured toes . . . or letting them stroke his dick. he clears his throat, grasping your hand. it’s warm and soft in his larger, calloused one.

“kento nanami, but you can just call me nanami, it’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“strong grip mister kento,” you grin, lingering with your hand is his for a bit longer before you pull away. god . . . even your voice is so perfect, sweet and sultry. do you have any flaws?

“please, just call me nanami. you stay next door, right?” he asks, trying to restrain himself from pouncing on you like a wild animal. he already knows the answer, but he doesn’t want to let on that he’s been spying. the lawn mower still hums behind him, and he grips the handle tightly to keep himself grounded.

“yeah! haha, i do. gosh, i’m embarrassed we’ve been neighbors for half a year and i’m just now formally meeting you.” your neck grows hot; had you known this sexy ass man stayed here you would’ve been pulling the weeds from your garden more often.

he shakes his head, had it really been six months? it didn’t even feel that long. “nonsense, it’s my fault i should’ve welcomed you to the neighborhood,” he tucks his hands in his pockets looking down at you. the height difference is stark between you two, perfect height for your lips to wrap around his cock.

“you’re in uni, right?”

you nod, “that obvious?" you laugh, swiping a piece of rebellious hair behind your ear. "just don’t see a lot of young faces around," he adds. once again, he knows the answer but wants to ask to clear himself of suspicion. you nod, agreeing. "makes sense. this town is so damn boring."

"so, nanami," you raise your perfectly waxed brows playfully. "what do you do?”

"i’m an, uh, police officer." he tries to sound casual, but you can sense a bit of hesitation. that’s hot . . . your mind trails to him fucking you while your hands are cuffed behind your back. your stomach clenches and you find yourself crossing your legs.

“nice, that’s pretty cool,” you giggle,“oh yeah! totally forgot why i came over here. my friends and i are raising money, we’re washing cars around the neighborhood. would you be interested?” he tries to ignore his screaming cock as you look up through those wispy lashes and latch your lips around the sucker again.

he’d zoned out halfway through you talking, something about raising money and his car. fuck, he wished that lollipop was him. you’re so pretty, with your lips glistening and eyes sparkling, he’s not even sure what he’s agreed to as he nods his head in a trance. he’s surprised when you squeal and pull him into a hug, your juicy boobs pressing against his chest, the warmth of your body igniting a fire inside him.

“thank you!” you pull away after a few seconds, and he hopes you hadn’t felt his dick throbbing against you.

“uh, no problem. so, what’s the money for?” he asks, trying to keep his voice steady.

you lean in close, the scent of your strawberry-scented hair making his mouth water and his heart race. “school project, but between me and you, alcohol. having a party tonight, you should come mister officer.” a smile tugs on his lips, he’ll be sure to give you an extra tip . . . he wants to place a fifty right between your pretty tits, imagining how they’d feel against his skin.

“i see, i would but i’ve got work in the morning.do i need to move my car?” he questions, glancing at his truck parked underneath a tree. he notices the summer pollen and leaves stuck to his windshield, realizing it wasn’t a good look. maybe a wash would let him gawk at you more.

he swears he could bust a nut right there as you drag the soapy rag across his car, leaning over to wet the bottom of his truck. your friends are dressed skimpier than you, one girl wearing what looks like literal fucking floss. yet, his eyes stay on you. the way you’re bending down, showing off your perfect stretch-marked ass has him cutting his grass so slow he might as well have been doing it with a pair of scissors.

you’re giggling as your friends spray you with water, covering your face and running around his truck. your titties are fully visible now and he has to bite the inside of his cheek to stop from groaning.

“ugh, i’m so wet.” he hears you whine. not as wet as you’ll be when he’s done with you. he can’t cut his grass forever, and he’s a bit sad when you begin finishing up cleaning his truck. he’s definitely gonna need to get rid of this erection; it’s unbearable.

it’s not long before you’re skipping over to him, that child-like smile on your face at having made his car look brand new. “so,” you stand beside him shoulder to shoulder, “watcha think?” you admire the car, you did pretty damn good if you had to say.

nanami nods, “looks amazing, thank you. let me get my wallet from inside.” he watches you nod before he heads inside to grab some cash. he snatches it up from the stand by the door and quickly goes back outside. you watch as he fishes out a fifty, your eyes widen. this man must be crazy, you were only charging five and here he is handing you a fifty.

“are you sure?” you question, hesitantly grabbing the crisp bill from him. mmm. . . you love a man who doesn’t mind splurging on you, maybe you’ll make him your sugar daddy.

“of course.”

you smile brightly, “wow, thanks. that’s awfully generous.” your eyes sparkle with excitement, and he can’t help but smile at your joy.

“well, you did an amazing job on my truck. i hardly even recognize it. i should be the one thanking you, get yourself a bottle. on me.” he says, his voice warm and genuine, making your heart flutter a little.

“coolest cop i know, guess i’ll see you around?” you question, folding the bill before tucking it between your breasts. he nods, and you give a small smile before walking away. his eyes are glued to your juicy ass, the way your body moves so effortlessly has him drooling. he stares all the way until you walk back into your home. damn, who knew a woman could have this effect on him?

he stood there for a moment, trying to gather his thoughts. he tried to get you out of his head but every time he closed his eyes images of you flashed though his head.

he needed a cold shower.

when you said party he didn’t know you meant your own fucking personal project x. a little party was no big deal. he had been to his fair share of college parties back in the day. but this? this was something else entirely. as the night wore on, more and more cars lined the street, and the volume of the music seemed to increase exponentially. the bass thumped through the walls, making his bed vibrate. he could hear the unmistakable sounds of people yelling, laughing, and . . . was that someone singing karaoke?

he should’ve known it’d be trouble the moment he saw you and a group of friends carrying large paper bags into the house later in the evening. he had assumed those bags were filled with alcohol and, judging by the raucous laughter and clinking bottles, he was right.

he groaned loudly, pulling his pillow over his face in a futile attempt to muffle the noise. it was no use. the sounds of cheering, shouting, and what he could only describe as chaos filled the night air. he couldn't help but think about how inconsiderate these people were, how inconsiderate you were.

he couldn't take it anymore.the pounding bass, the shouting, the laughter—it was all too much. throwing the covers off, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up. as he slipped on his bedroom slippers and grabbed his jacket, he muttered to himself, "this is ridiculous it’s three fucking am.”

stepping outside, he was greeted by a scene straight out of a movie.the street was littered with red solo cups, and groups of drunken college kids staggered around, shouting and laughing. as he made his way down the block, he pushed through clusters of people. "excuse me," he muttered, though he doubted anyone could hear him over the noise.

"oo,who's dad?" one of the girls in a group giggled as he passed by. another chimed in, "he’s kinda hot for a dad." nanami rolled his eyes and kept moving, ignoring their comments. he wasn't here to make friends; he was here to get some peace and quiet.

finally, he reached the house. the music was deafening up close, and he could feel the vibrations under his feet. he took a deep breath, and raised his fist and knocked on the door. the door, already weakened by the night's festivities, splintered slightly under the weight of his knock.

as the door swings open, he's met with your face. you're obviously tipsy, the way you're hanging onto the door with a lazy smile.

“oh my god! nanami, i’m so glad you could make it.” you giggle, throwing your arms around his neck.he stiffens, arms instinctively wrapping around your frame. he admits it feels nice, and your hair smells so damn good and so do you. he shakes his head, he’s here to stand on business.

"i don't mean to be a dick. especially after you washed my car but this ridiculous," he stresses, running his hands over his face. you barely hear anything he says over the roar of the music, he showed up to your party and that’s all that really matters to you. he’s so sexy, you want to kiss him. he protest as you retract from him and grab his hand pulling him inside the house, shutting the door behind you.

“i—“ he starts, you cut him off.

"shh,i wanna show you something," you whisper, leading him upstairs. he follows, albeit hesitantly, feeling the warmth of your hand seeping into his. every step feels like it's taking him deeper into a dream he can't wake up from. the noise from the party fades into the background as you ascend, replaced by the sound of your soft giggles and his own racing heartbeat.

once at the top of the stairs, you lead him down a dimly lit hallway and into your room. the door clicks shut behind you.you turn to face him, still holding his hand, and he can see the playful glint in your eyes. his eyes drop to the corset you’re wearing, titties threatening to spill out. fuck, what’s with you and never wearing a full outfit.

"ʚ♡ɞ , what are we doing here?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.he’s trying to keep his composure, but the proximity, and the way your eyes are locked onto his, it's all too much. he pinches himself to make sure he’s not dreaming.

you don't answer immediately. instead , you step closer, your free hand reaching up to trace the line of his jaw. he tenses, your touch sends a shiver down his spine, and he finds himself leaning into it despite his better judgment. "i just wanted to be alone with you," you murmur, your breath warm against his skin.

before he can respond, you close the distance between you, pressing your lips to his in a kiss that’s both gentle and insistent. his mind races, a thousand thoughts colliding at once, but all he can focus on is the way you feel against him. the taste of you, the softness of your lips, the way your body molds to his—it’s intoxicating.

he wraps his arms around you, pulling you closer as the kiss deepens. all the stress, the annoyance, it melts away, replaced by a warmth that spreads through his entire being.

“m’fuck me, officer, i’ve been a bad girl.” you moan softly against his lips, your core throbbing at his touch. his hands roam your body, sending shivers down your spine. the heat between you intensifies.

his hands hold you closely as he walks you backwards towards your bed, pushing you on it softly,electing a small gasp from your lips.

“you’re such a fuckin’ tease, y’know that?” he husks, leaning over you. “wearing tight ass shit all the time, drives me fuckin’ crazy seeing your body bust out of your clothes.” his fingers tug up your mini leather skirt, groaning as he sees your bare pussy. “tsk, tsk, tsk. not even wearing any underwear, you’re naughty. you need to be fucked.” you whine at his dirty words, legs spread as he soaks in the sight of you. his eyes darken with desire, and he licks his lips, savoring the moment.

“oh my god,” you whimper, feeling his tongue press firmly against your aching clit. the sensation makes you want to cry out as he moves slowly, savoring every drop of your essence.

your soft moans are like a symphony to his ears, each sound making his cock twitch with need. “s-so good,” you gasp, shuddering as his tongue flicks over your bud. his large grips your thighs and holds your legs open, kneading your soft brown skin between his hands.

“shaking already? i’ve barely touched you, doll.” he murmurs into your pussy, the taste driving him wild. he can't help but moan as he laps up your wetness.the sensation of his tongue exploring you sends shivers down your spine, making your body tremble even more.

"nanamiii!" you drawl his name out blissfully as he nips at your throbbing bud, sending waves of pleasure through your body. each gentle nip and flick of his tongue feels like a spark, igniting your senses and making your toes curl in delight. his hands firmly grip your hips, anchoring you in place as he continues his attentive ministrations, drawing you closer to the edge with every touch.

“you sound so sexy when you say my name,” he grunts and slides a finger inside you, the sensation adding a new layer of intensity to your pleasure. his tongue continues its dedicated work on your sensitive bud, while his finger moves with an expert rhythm, exploring and finding the spots that make you gasp.

“you’re so tight, gotta stretch you.” nanami hums,adding second finger, the fullness and the rhythmic pressure makes your back arch off the bed.his name becomes a chant on your lips, each syllable a testament to the ecstasy he's orchestrating within you.

“f-fingers a-a-re sooo long,” you drool out, your pussy making the most dehumanizing noises as he presses into you.

“mhm, gonna make you cum with em’ sweetheart.” his fingers curl inside you, brushing against your cervix. the combination of his tongue and fingers working in concert sends shockwaves of pleasure through your entire being. desperately, you grip the sheets tightly, your body responding to every thrust and flick with increasing intensity.

the sensation builds, a crescendo of bliss that has you teetering on the brink of release. the world narrows down to the feeling of his touch, the sound of your own ragged breaths, and the overwhelming pleasure that threatens to consume you entirely.

you’re a mess on nanami’s hands, he watches as his beefy digits glisten with your juice each time he pumps fingers into you.

“so f’kin wet,” he listens in admiration at the shlick shlick shlick sounds,”listen to how your pussy is talking to me.” he grins.

he didn’t even know it was possible for a pussy to be this wet . . . he can only imagine how you’ll feel wrapped around his cock.

“tell me what you want princess,” your stomach clenches at his raspy voice,you whimper, trying to find your voice.

“i wanna c-cum!” you sob, feeling his fingers pick up their speed, your body sliding forward from the force of his thrust.

“mm’ i know, you look so pretty all spread out for me.” he rasps, voice laced with lust. you want to scream as he wraps his lips firmly back against your clit, fingers now drilling against your cervix with precision.

nanami presses his free palm against the lower half of your stomach as you began moving, the pleasure is almost too unbearable and you wanna squirm and pull away. but he’s gripping you so tightly you can’t, you can only take the immense pleasure he’s giving you.

“unt unt, stay still.” nanami swirls his tongue around you. your clit seems to have doubled in size, the fat bud visibly throbbing under his tongue. he finds it mesmerizing as he nips at it, fingers pressing deeper into your thighs as they shake.

“o-oh, m so s-sensitive. p-please go easy on her,” you hiccup with closed eyes. you’re a sweaty mess, nanami is eating your pussy like a starved man, leaving no drops of juices from you. you wanna cum on his face so bad . . . if he keeps fucking you so deeply you’ll squirt, you moan at that thought.

“sorry beautiful, easy isn’t in my vocabulary.”

you feel that tight familiar feeling in your stomach as you dig your nails into his messy blonde hair,pulling the silky strands between your fingers. he snuffles through his nose at the sensation, cock pressing uncomfortably against his checkered pajama pants.

your brain seems to short circuit for a minute as your orgasm rushes over you, you’re so damn tender and yet nanami still sucks on your pussy. you’re crying tears as he over-stimulates you, back arching as your eyes roll into the back of your head.

blobs of colors dot your vision as nanami continues his attack on your vulnerable pussy. you have that sensation in your stomach, and he knows what’s coming as you tighten around his fingers. he groans at the sensation, pulling his fingers out of you and quickly spazzing his fingers against your clit.

“fuckkkk yesss,” nanami watches in awe as your pussy gushes clear liquid, coating his shirt and soaking him. he doesn’t care, he wants you to keep squirting. one hand is still pressed against your abdomen, other back inside your throbbing walls.

“finna’ squirt again!” you mewl in pleasure as he once again pulls his fingers out and goes berserk on your clit, moaning softly as you drench the bed. tears cascade down your cheeks as he finally lets up on your poor pussy, this man knows how to spoil a girl.

nanami is a little confused as you slide off the bed, legs shaking from your recent orgasm. you slide open your closet and pull out a pink book bag with an array of hello kitty patches sewn on. he watches as you pull out a bunch of your toys - a bright pink anal plug, cuffs, and a vibrator. his cock twitches in his pants.

"i think i just fell in love with you," he huffs,you giggle as he pulls you into his embrace, fingers desperately stripping you of your skimpy clothing. your head lulls to the side as he presses wet kisses on your neck, shivering as his teeth graze your skin. his touch is both tender and urgent, sending waves of excitement through you.

he admires your naked body, his eyes lingering on every curve and contour. he loves the way your stomach is pudgy, a soft and inviting cushion that he can't resist. the way your hips are wide, creating a beautiful silhouette that captivates him. he loves the way your love handles are soft in his hands.every inch of you is a testament to natural beauty, and he can't help but feel a deep sense of appreciation and affection.

“you’re a masterpiece,” he murmurs against your lips. a smile breaks across your face, he’s so sweet.you slowly undress him, fingers deftly unbuttoning his shirt one by one. his stomach burns with anticipation as you plant slow, lingering kisses along his body, each touch igniting a fire within him. you take your time, savoring the moment, as you peel away his clothes, revealing more of his skin to your tender caresses. every kiss, every gentle touch, sends shivers down his spine, heightening his senses and drawing him deeper into the intoxicating experience.

he watches intently as you sit him onto the bed, grabbing something your vanity. baby oil? god, you’re such a freak. he loves it. “scoot back,” you order, he listens, eyes never leaving yours as you climb onto the bed. you smile, coating your feet in baby oil.he looks so sexy man spread out for you like this . . . you’re gonna make him feel good. beautiful men like him deserve it.

you giggle as his head lulls back as you glide him in between your feet. his thighs tremble as you stroke him with a smile, the soft sound of your skin against his filling the room. his eyes are snapped shut, his face contorting with pleasure.

“do you like this, nanami?” you ask softly, your voice dripping with seduction.

“yes,” he groans, his voice strained. “it feels g-good.”

you increase the pressure, moving your feet with more intensity. “i want to see you lose control,” you whisper, watching his reaction closely.

your pussy grows wet at his breathing becoming more ragged. “don’t stop, please don’t stop.”

you maintain the rhythm, your movements precise and deliberate. “i want to see you come undone,” you say, your own excitement building as you watch him shudder with pleasure.

he looks so damn fine, head lulled back, that blonde hair you desperately want to run your fingers through stringy across his face. his abs glisten with sweat, and you want to run your tongue along the sculpted surface.

“look at me,” you coo.his eyes flutter open and find your big brown doe ones, you can feel him twitch at the eye contact. fuck . . . you’re so damn hot, and to think he thought you were innocent at first. there isn’t an innocent bone in your body as you sit there and stroke his throbbing cock with your feet.

you’ve got him wrapped around your pretty little finger and you know it.

nanami feels an overwhelming mix of sensations as you continue to stroke him with your oiled-up feet. his body is on fire, every nerve ending tingling with pleasure. the soft, slick feel of your skin against his is almost too much to bear, and he can barely keep himself from losing control.

his thighs tremble uncontrollably, a clear sign of how close he is to the edge. the tension in his muscles is almost painful, and he can feel his heart pounding in his chest. each stroke sends a wave of pleasure coursing through him, making it harder and harder to hold back.

as he listens to your soft, encouraging words, a sense of desperation builds within him. he wants nothing more than to let go, to give in to the pleasure and let it consume him. but he also wants to savor the moment, to stretch out the feeling for as long as possible.

when he finally admits that he can’t hold on much longer, it’s a relief. your response, urging him to let go, is exactly what he needs to hear. the pace of your movements increases, and he feels himself teetering on the brink.

the moment of release is like an explosion. his body tenses, every muscle contracting as he finally gives in. the pleasure is intense, almost overwhelming, and he can feel it radiating out from his core, spreading through his entire body.

“shit!” he whines, roping cum across your feet as you continue stroking him, milking his needy cock dry. his chest heaves as he attempts to catch his breath, “you’re messy.” you grin, sliding off the bed to fetch a towel.

“where the hell did you learn that?” nanami suddenly finds his voice.you shrug you shoulders, cleaning your feet. “i’ll never tell,”

you're caught off guard when nanami grabs you and cuffs your hands behind your back. "am i under arrest?" you snicker, but your laugh is immediately replaced by a wince as he yanks your head back by your hair. his breath is hot against your ear as he whispers, "indeed. anything you say can and will be used against you in bed," he smirks, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

he pushes you onto the bed stomach first, and you grunt as you struggle to balance with your hands restrained. “ughhhmm,” you bury your face into the sheets, a mix of pain and pleasure coursing through you as you feel the butt plug prod against your asshole. nanami grins in delight, watching as you whine, your asshole greedily eating up the plug, the sensation making you shiver with a twisted sense of satisfaction.

the faint humming of the vibrator fills your ears, and you expect him to put it against your clit, but he doesn’t. "what are you doing?" you gasp, straining against the cuffs. he smirks, not answering, and you feel him push the tiny vibrator inside your cunt.

"oh god," you moan, as his dick follows, pressing the vibrator deeper into you. "feel that?" he murmurs, his voice low and teasing. you cry out, the vibrations stirring your insides, and the stretch of him making your head feel light and dizzy with a mix of overwhelming pleasure.

"you're mine," he whispers, his breath hot against your neck.

nanami has to restrain himself in your tight cunt, the soft buzzing against his throbbing tip makes him groan. you’re so damn wet and compact around him . . . he could’ve thought you were a virgin.

"i-ugh’fuck!” you manage to gasp, feeling every inch of him and the vibrator inside you. nanami's hands grip your hips tightly, his movements slow and deliberate, trying to savor every moment.

"so tight," he admits, his voice rough with desire. the combination of the buzzing and his steady thrusts sends waves of pleasure through you, making your body tremble.

"please," you beg, not even sure what you're asking for, just needing more of him. he groans, his control slipping as he starts to move faster, driven by the overwhelming sensation and the sound of your desperate pleas.

each thrust driving the vibrator deeper, sending jolts of pleasure through your entire body. "been waitin’ for this," he growls, his voice raw with need.

"nanami," you moan, your voice trembling with pleasure. his dick is so damn thick . . . you’re going crazy, you want to scream. the way his dick gets lost in your big ass has him in a trance; he could stay like this forever.

“fuckkkk,” nanami grunts, one hand holding the cuffs that secure your hands, the other placed on his hip as he rolls his hips into you. each thrust sends shivers down your spine, making you arch your back in response. you can't help but think about how perfectly he fills you, stretching you in ways that drive you wild.

his grip tightens on the cuffs, and you feel the cool metal biting into your wrists, a stark contrast to the heat building between your bodies.

"i can't get enough of you," he mutters, his voice rough with desire. you can hear the raw need in his tone, matching the desperate ache inside you. his movements become more deliberate, each jolt of his hips pushing you closer to the edge, making you lose yourself in the overwhelming sensation of him.

the sick squelching of your pussy around him is vile, but he fucking loves it. your desperate pussy sucks at filthy cock each time he pulls out of you, you’re such a slut. . . mm, he wants to fill you to the brim.

you flinch as nanami’s hand cracks over your skin, earning a mewl from you. “you deserve to be spanked, for throwing this loud ass party, for wearing these skimpy ass clothes,” he growls, his voice low and commanding.

his hand repeatedly cracks across your stinging skin, each hit harder than the last. the sharp sound of each smack echoes in the room, mingling with your soft cries.

“i’m s-sorry n-nanami,” you whimper, trembling as you try to hold back the tears. his hand doesn’t relent, and the sting intensifies with every strike. “p-pllease, i didn’t mean to—”

“no excuses,” he interrupts, his tone brooking no argument. “you need to learn your lesson.” tears brim your eyes, threatening to spill over as you bite your lip to keep from screaming. you can feel the heat radiating from your skin, each slap a reminder of his dominance and your submission. the mix of pain and pleasure sends shivers down your spine, leaving you breathless and yearning for more.

he’s fucking you so fast now, girthy cock massaging your walls deliciously. his fingers are tangled in your hair, pulling your head back as he moves within you so deeply. you’re a sweating, creaming mess, eyes half lidded as he slides into you quickly. you’d just gotten your hair done, but nanami doesn’t care. he’s too focused on pounding into your sensitive cunt. “ i wanna cum on your d-dick,” you plead, a trail of drool adorning your mouth as he fucks up your senses.

you’re so close. .. but, it’s too soon. you ignore the way your stomach is turning. you hate that you’re coming undone so fast, but you can’t help it. this man is skilled. . . ugh, you’re so dizzy for his fat cock.

“mm, hold it. we have to finish together baby.”

“o-omm’ o-okay,” his movements become more urgent, his moans are so pretty. nanami’s head lulls back as you start meeting his thrust, you’ll be the death of him. his stomach is in knots, he’s so damn close. even you can tell the way his cock is twitching against your walls, and the way you’re grinding your hips on him? spectacular.

"come for me," he commands, his voice both a plea and an order. the intensity of his thrusts and the relentless buzzing push you over the edge, and you cry out, your body convulsing with pleasure. nanami groans as you squeeze him, he rolls his hips into you once more before he retracts. mouth agape as curses spill from it, he’s stroking his veiny cock, shooting hot spurts of sticky cum on your ass.

the vibrator still buzzes inside of you, you squirm, pushing it out of your contracting pussy. nanami swears he could nut again as it slips out, coated in your creamy substance. you shudder as you feels his lips on your back,cuffs falling from your wrist as he undoes them. they’re extremely raw and you know you’ll be icing them later,you sink into the bed, you’re so tired.

"please, stay with me until i fall asleep," you whisper,voice barely audible in the quiet room.

he hesitates for a moment, glancing at the clock. he knows he has work in a few hours, but the look in your eyes makes it impossible to say no. "of course," he replies softly, pulling the covers over your body and slipping into the bed beside you.

as you curl up into his side, he feels a warmth spread through him. his hand reaches down to stroke your face gently, his fingers tracing the delicate lines of your features. "you're so beautiful," he murmurs, almost to himself.

a smile pulls against your lips,tired eyes already beginning to close. "thank you, you make me feel special.” you murmur, your voice drowsy.he can't help but smile at your words. he watches as you drift off to sleep, your breathing becoming slow and steady. he knows he should be thinking about the long day ahead, but all he can focus on is the feeling of you in his arms.

as he lies there, holding you close, he can't help but wonder if this is the start of something new. something wonderful. and for the first time in a long while, he feels a sense of hope.

as always likes, reblogs, and comments are appreciated! i love interacting:) byeeeee.

[queen-of-deans-booty]

Delicious Promises

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.5k

Warnings: smut, fingering

Summary: You and Dean are always at each other’s throats, making it hard to hunt with each other. What you two need is a good way to release your frustrations, no matter who is around to hear it.

Square Filled: one bed for three (2021) for @spndeanbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

x

Hunting with the Winchesters brings out two emotions: excitement and annoyance. Excitement because you love hunting with them, saving people, and killing monsters. You can do it by yourself but they’re so good at what they do, it makes sense to want to do it with them. Annoyance because you can’t stand Dean. He’s cocky, arrogant, bossy, and always thinks he’s right about everything. You can’t stand the man. Sam is usually the buffer between you and Dean and can often keep both of you calm but if you’re alone with the older Winchester, things won’t end well.

You’re also pissed off because he’s so hot. You’ve roomed next to him before; he knows exactly what he’s doing when he has a woman in his bed. Women fawn all over him whenever he walks into a room, and can you blame them? It pains you to admit but you often thought about being one of those women in his bed at times.

Not only does he piss you off, but you piss him off, too. You hunt just as well as he does if not a little better, and it drives him up a wall when you don’t listen to him. You go off on your own and do whatever it is that you want despite you always telling him you can handle it. It always seems to work out in the end for you which is what pisses him off.

Sam, on the other hand, is one of your best friends. You two get along great which is why you agreed to go on this hunt with them. He asked for your help knowing he and his brother wasn’t going to be enough. Dean’s been driving for nearly an entire day to get to Maine, so he decides to stop at some hotel instead of a motel. They have Men of Letters money so they can splurge on sleeping comfortably tonight.

There is a convention happening in town so there is only one room available by the time you get to them. Normally, it wouldn’t be a problem since you took turns sleeping in the bed whenever you were with the Winchesters. As long as there were two beds and a sofa bed, you’d be alright. However, when you get to the room, you are disappointed to see only one bed--a California King.

“Tell me there is a sofa bed,” you say. You walk over to the couch and lift the cushions only to be disappointed again. “Shit.”

“It’s fine. This is big enough for all three of us. Just sleep in the middle,” Sam says.

You barely look at Dean. “I’ll sleep on the couch.”

“Don’t be a pussy,” Dean rolls his eyes.

“Excuse me?”

“Is sharing a bed with us that traumatic?”

“Yes, actually because you’ll be in there,” you sneer.

“Will you two quit it? We’re here to hunt, and we can’t do that if you’re at each other’s throats. Can’t you two just get along?”

“I know I can,” you say and cross your arms.

“I know I can,” Dean mocks you in a faux female voice.

You resist the urge to throw something at his fucking smug face.

“Fine, I’ll sleep in the bed with you two.”

“Fine.”

You grab your bathroom bag and lock yourself in the bathroom to do your nighttime routine. It takes twenty minutes to complete the entire routine, and you leave the bathroom once you feel refreshed and ready for bed. You grab your moisturizer and lift your right leg to rub the lotion onto your skin. Dean peeks at you from over the gun he’s cleaning. After doing your right leg, you do your left leg and Dean doesn’t take his eyes off you the entire time.

You put the lotion aside and crawl into bed between the two brothers. Dean finishes with his gun and puts it away to crawl in next to you. Sam is already snuggled under the covers with a book in his hand.

“Fuck,” Dean mutters.

“What?”

“You expect me to lay here and smell that girly shit?”

“If you don’t like it, sleep on the couch,” you smirk.

“Both of you, shut up and go to sleep,” Sam scolds you two like children.

Sam is the first to fall asleep since he can fall asleep anywhere, but you and Dean are a different story. You always have trouble falling asleep in beds that are not your own and this is no exception. It doesn’t help you’re in the middle of a Winchester sandwich. Sam is a heavy sleeper so he doesn’t feel you moving to get comfortable, but Dean does. He had to be a light sleeper to look after Sam so he can’t sleep unless you’re still.

“If you’re going to keep moving, go to the couch,” he hisses.

“I can’t get comfortable.”

Dean rolls onto his side, grabs your hips, and pulls you into him. You freeze the second you feel his hard cock on your ass. Dean’s hot breath falls over your ear and neck causing shivers to rave down your spine.

“Stop moving and go to sleep.” It’s kind of hard to go to sleep now when you can feel every inch of Dean’s cock pressed between your ass cheeks. You shift as you try to think about anything else, but him and you end up pressing your ass further into him. Dean’s teeth nip at your ear and he growls his next words. “Do not move.” Okay, now you’re moving just to piss him off. You can play him so easily. Dean’s hand slides over your hip to the front of your body where he presses his fingers to your clothed pussy. That causes you to still. “If you want to play this game, sweetheart, I’ll play this game. One rule. Don’t wake Sam.”

Dean’s hand slips underneath your silk pajama shorts, pleased to find you’re wearing skimpy cotton panties. He passes the cotton barrier and presses his fingers against your clit. You jerk against his body but he holds onto you tightly so you don’t move much. He runs two fingers down the length of your slit, gathering the wetness he feels.

“I haven’t even touched you and already, you’re so wet for me.”

He pushes one thick finger into you, and you bite down on your bottom lip to keep from crying out. Sam would kill you if he knew what was happening mere inches away from him. Dean pushes in a second finger and curls them to press against your g-spot.

“Fuck,” you gasp quietly.

“Do you feel what you do to me? You get me so fucking hard. It takes everything I have not to bend you over and fuck that attitude out of you,” he whispers against your ear.

It’s somehow hotter that he’s whispering to you instead of speaking normally. So intimately… so close.

“So do it,” you smirk.

Dean slams his fingers into you rapidly and rubs your clit in hard small circles. The pressure is becoming too much not to make noise, and you arch your back as much as possible. It’s a good thing Sam is a heavy sleeper otherwise he’d hear your heavy breathing and slick sounds from your pussy.

“Fuck, Dean,” you whimper.

“Are you gonna be a good girl and come for me? Hmm?”

You can’t respond to him even if you want to. The pressure builds deep in your core, and he can feel you tightening around his fingers. Fuck, he can only imagine what you’d feel like around his cock and tongue. Next time. His cock is rock hard and pressing against your ass, begging for release, but he’s not going to take care of him until he takes care of you.

“Shit, I’m gonna come,” you whisper.

“Go ahead. I got you.”

He circles your clit hard and the pressure inside of you explodes, and you feel your entire body start to float from ecstasy. Your pussy clenches and unclenches as you come, and he continues to thrust his fingers in and out to ride out your high. When he knows you have no more to give him right now, he pulls his fingers out of you slowly to tease you. You don’t have to look at him to know he is sucking you off his own flesh.

“Damn, sweetheart. Next time, I want to feel you come on my tongue.”

“Okay,” you whisper.

“That’s just another thing I’m better at than you.”

“What thing?”

“Making you come,” he smirks. Your jaw drops several inches at his remarks, and he lets you go to give you some space. He turns over in the bed so that his back is facing you instead of his chest. “Go to bed.”

How the hell can you think about sleeping now when all you can think about is Dean and the possibilities he and his cock can give you?

x

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[onmyyan]

Romantic DC yan, my time to shine (platonic is cute but I can't find any romantic ones this days T_T)

I bring to you a cliche, a new villain who uses her riches and ruthlesness in her quest to get a magical artifact in order to make her dream come true.

The bats have to stop her! But what is this! SHE’S TOO CHARMING?! (in a villain mean way, like comenting on Nightwing's as while they fight, or kissing Red Hood over the cowl before pushing him off a building)

Dangerous Woman

A/n: fem reader, yandere themes, canon typical violence, ft Bruce, Dick, Jason, Tim

You're new to the villainous scene in Gotham but already kicking up quite the storm, you follow your own rules, killing corrupt men across the city, setting human trafficking rings on fire after freeing the victims, your crimes caught the gaze of Bruce and in turn the rest of the batfamily.

He saw a certain mercy in your actions, a quality of compassion he was certain he could pull out of you if he just got his hands on you.

But you're a slippery one, your teleportation abilities made you incredibly difficult to catch, and you seemed to relish in his growing frustration.

"You ever get tired of losing?" You ask sitting on a bank counter, money both burnt and unburnt scattered the floor around you, he hated to admit it but he was undeniably attracted to you, the way your suit hugged your form like a second skin, those long legs splayed out like a feast, heeled feet swinging as you toyed with a stack of bills.

"(Y/n) (L/n)." He states gruffly, his imposing form blending into the shadows. Of course he knows your name, you laugh to yourself before hopping off the counter and sauntering over, "ooh so scary." You snicker, "Your crimes warrant a trip to Arkham..but I'm willing to offer you something else. Rehabilitation."

Your smirk doesn't falter, "You can't save me." This only fuels his burning desire to do just that, those simple words seal your fate, he would have you under his care wether you liked it or not.

Tim is the second to become aware of your tantalizing presence, Bruce asked him to pull up anything and everything he could find on you, he couldn't help but become intrigued by your mysterious nature, any time you were caught on camera you had this knowing, mischievous grin on your lips, it was addicting, he found himself tracing the outline of your lips as he compiles a file on you.

Jason comes across you on his own, running into you after you successfully rob a museum.

Red Hood stared at you a gun pointed in your direction, "Stand down gorgeous." His voice was altered by the mask he wore, he was the latest of the bats to try and get in your way, to try and stop you from your goals, but he'd fall, just like the rest of them.

"You're not gonna shoot me Red." You speak coyly, hands up in surrender, your black domino mask hiding your pretty (e/c) eyes, your lips, painted red curl into a smirk at the sight of his hand wavering.

"Shooting you in the leg won't kill you." He chimes not lowering the weapon, "Yeah but I get the feeling you're not too trigger happy tonight."

"You've no idea what I'm capable of." He sounds like he's trying to convince himself.

You take a calculated step forward your red bottom heels clicking against the concrete rooftop, "C'mon big boy, you know there are actual bad guys who require your attention out there?" Your voice was like melted butter flowing into his ears and setting a warmth in his belly. "Robbing Gotham museum seems pretty criminal to me." He lowered his gun, holstering the weapon, "Can't you just slap a girl on the wrists?" You ask with a tilt of your head, the stolen goods in a satchel on your hip, "You know I can't just let you walk away." He responds, you close the distance making him take a step back, he wanted to reach out and touch you, claim you, and the closer he got to you the harder it was to resist.

You managed to back him on the edge of the roof, your hands trailing up his toned chest, landing on his shoulders, your claws digging into the leather of his jacket, "Just..stay outta my way." You whisper letting the tension build, pressing your plump lips to his mask you feel him shudder, without wasting another second you push him off the building. He falls for you harder than the garbage can he hit.

Dick is the next to come across you and the next to fall, and fuck does he fall hard.

He's got you corned in a dusty warehouse but damn if you aren't quick, darting around in him in blinks, teasingly touching him as you dance around, teasing him with every brush of your clawed fingers.

He's brought out of his inappropriate thoughts by a whistle from your pretty lips, "You're in that spandex boy!- nice ass." He feels himself flush, freezing on the spot as he sputtered for a response. You use his distracted moment to send a roundhouse kick to his head, one he just barely managed to block, "Don't lose focus now pretty." You chide smacking your teeth. Of course you manage to escape, which only fuels his budding obsession.

The trouble starts for you when they start working together, it's after a meeting Bruce calls one night, your file pulled up on the screen, they all have various reactions but one common thread is shared between the four men, burning desire.

Once they start coordinating it's only a matter of time before you come home, where they can tame you.

[tommydarlings]

fucktoy part 3 | f1 grid

pairing: dom!carlos sainz ; dom!charles leclerc ; mean!dom!max verstappen ; dom!daniel ricciardo x sub!bimbo!reader

warnings: blowjob, mention of gagging, hair pulling, pussy eating, dacryphilia, brief mention of spanking, brief mention of face slapping, brief mention of marking somebody up, humiliation

w/c: 1k

summary: the f1 grid loves to simply use you as their fucktoy or as a stress relief and nothing else.

check this out: my masterlist <3 // my ko-fi to support me! <3 // my PayPal to support me! <3 // my Patreon to become a member! (get access to +65 works) // Save a Life carrd made by me! <3

How Carlos would not hesitate to force you onto your knees.

“f-fucking hell, cariño,” were the words you were able to here from your spot on your knees in front of the intimidating Spaniard as his big hand led your head, giving you close to no work. “Esa boca puede chupar pollas, mierda,” that mouth can suck cock, carlos threw his head back and groaned deeply.

You briefly tried your best to looked up at him with your with tears-filled Bambi eyes, batting your eyelashes as good as you could up at him before you gagged on his cock, making him chuckled and looked down at you,

“Too much? No… it’s not too much for that little mouth of yours, estoy en lo cierto?” Am I right?

With pleading eyes and hallowed cheeks, you shook your head and hummed, knowing that you won’t be able to get any words out.

He nodded confidently, “I know I’m right, my angel… I know,” Carlos whispered while his other hand caressed your hallowed cheek, smirk still very visible on his face.

Or how Charles wouldn’t be able to resist the urge to eat you out in his small changing room.

“Every time I eat that pretty pussy of yours it just tastes better and better, mon amour,” he mumbled before you spread your legs further apart and buried his head between your thighs again, messily licking and lightly sucking on your clit while you fisted his hair.

You threw your head back, as always, “Charles! Oh g-god, don’t stop… please!” You whined almost pathetically.

Your heard and felt him giggle into your soaked cunt, “wasn’t planning on stopping, my love.”

He suddenly put his entire mouth around your clit and passionately sucked on his before he flicked it a couple of times with the tip of his tongue, making you cover your mouth.

Charles noticed how your screamed into your palm and quickly raised his hand to remove your hand from your panting mouth,

“oh no, no baby, we don’t do that here… when you’re with me, then I want to hear how I make you feel, you understand? So let me hear you… all of you,” he whispered as he looked up at you from his place on his knees, fingers squeezing your skin as tears blurred your vision.

And then you shook with pleasure as moans and whines escaped your mouth like never before, Charles only smiling into your wet pussy as he continued devouring your most sensitive area with his mouth and tongue.

And how max wouldn’t let you talk to the other drivers in the paddock without leaving his mark on your behind.

He watched you closely, almost like a hunter its prey as you talked to Charles, giggling about something, making his blood boil.

The second Charles left you alone, max walked over to you, his dark gaze not leaving your body.

“What did the two of you talk about, hmm?”

You furrowed your brows but before you could even get a word out, he already grabbed your wrist and dragged you towards the nearest bathroom, harshly throwing you into it and locking the door behind him.

“You want something? Money? Attention? Some spanks or some slaps across your pretty face? You come to me… I can give you all of that and you know it,” he mumbled into your ear from behind, his big hands already lifting your dress up and pulling your panties to the side.

“M-Max, what are y-you-” but your sentence was stopped by your own loud and whiny moan, hand slapping against the wall he pressed you to before you squeezed your eyes shut.

His big hand cradled your chin from behind, thumb caressing your skin as he entered you, roughly fucking you in a fast and almost painful but still pleasurable pace.

He chuckled, his lips kissing your temple, “you feel that? You feel me inside of you? That’s the only thing that should be filling your tight cunt up, okay?” He whispered, making you nod.

“Good girl,” he kissed your cheek, comfortingly kissing your tears away, “and those beautiful tears, god baby… you know how to drive me crazy, don’t you?” He smiled.

Daniel would use you to fulfill his needs all the time, giving you close to no break.

After a good qualifying or a race win, you would be in his driver’s room already, pathetically bend over the arm of the couch while Daniel is grinning like a devil behind you, your clothes long gone.

“Don’t act like you didn’t beg for that all day long, saw you looking at me with those big, teary eyes, almost couldn’t resist myself to fuck that pretty hole in front of everybody,” he whispered into your ear from behind before moving his head down to kiss your shoulder and neck.

You whined, fingers gripping the soft material of the couch so roughly that your knuckles turned white, “N-Not true-” you gasped as his thrusts into your pussy got harsher, one hand pressing your body down by your waist while the other one got a merciless grip of your hair, swiftly pulling your head upwards.

You gasped while he chuckled, dark pupils starring down at you, “not true you say?” He bit his lip, thrusts getting slower but harder, making you choke on your breath each time,

“Not true she’s says,” he quickly pecked the top of your head while listening to your cries, smile not fading, “how funny.”

Your head fell forward but daniel didn’t like that, in a matter of seconds, he tangled his long fingers in your hair and pulled your head back up, his other hand pressing more down onto your waist, forcing you to arch your back for him even more,

“Oh no no no, baby… you stay here, okay? Right here,” you squeezed your eyes shut, tears covering your cheeks as your hands trembled with each thrust, “look at me… c'mon look up at me, baby,” he mumbled, smirking as you obeyed and opened your eyes again.

“Just like that,” daniel grinned down at you, praising you quietly before he kissed the top of your head again.

[hana-no-seiiki]

This is generally such a stupid ask but I feel like it would be.. Chaotic? At the very least amusing

Anyways

Batfam x Nicole from Class of 09! Reader

Do what you want (etc make it romantic or platonic, doesn't matter)

Just the batfam (yandere ofc) dealing with a chick who loves to ruin lives for her amusement and sometimes for revenge

Istg she'll just bully them at any chance she gets

~ 🕒

I just binged watched Class of ‘09 and all its endings/choices for you non. I don’t think I can fully depict how brash wittiness of Nicole is but here I go! (I am so traumatized) Didn’t know that’s where “No I’m flirting with you flash me a tiddy bitch” came from no wonder Nicole sounded so familiar.

btw if people are interested in watching class of ‘09 just be warned it’s basically a VN version of Degrees of Lewdity but the mc is actually a minor (without the sex/r*pe mechanic though) and it depicts a lot of just… pedophilia, necrophilia, assault, su*c*de, school shootings, racism??, BE WARNED.

The following content above ^ might be mentioned in this fic but in passing. MASSIVE DDDNE WARNING.

I don’t think I’m comfortable writing stepcest/incest in this blog so despite how perfect it’ll be to make Bruce your step father considering Nicole’s mom has divorced like a hundred times…maybe ask me in @yoru-no-seiiki and I’ll be down for it.

THIS IS ADMITTEDLY TIM + DAMIAN CENTRIC

“Do you even care? Do the results of your actions mean anything to you?”

“Yeah when they affect me, sure.”

You were a bitch. There was no denying that. But you were a pretty one. One many would grovel to be under.

You were used to this, ever since you reached a certain age people just looked at you different, acted in a way that… made you think they were boring, utter losers.

One of those losers was Tim’s friend.

Like all the stupid, horny men in your life, you hung out with him once and he spilled everything there was that you could share.

To the entire campus, the internet, even the news.

And because you were pretty, you got off scot-free. Those morons didn’t even check to see what you’ve been doing the past decade.

Except Tim. Timothy Drake. You only knew that his dad was super rich, and as much as it was tempting to sink your teeth into him and get a load of that daddy’s money, you knew better.

He apparently didn’t.

You see there was one thing every batfam member couldn’t resist. Well, two things. The first was saving people.

The second? Fixing them.

When Tim first approached you he was confused.

You were quite the popular figure in Uni. He heard the rumors. He fully expected to be cussed out to hell and back.

But you were… nice. Agreeable at most really. Brash was an understatement. But you were witty. Your comebacks were swift and deadly.

The more he studied stalked you the more he realized that the two of you were the same.

Two bright people stuck with dull idiots.

And Tim? Tim interested you enough for you to not to completely drop him after the first week. That and most of your bullying probably wouldn’t bode well towards the son of a billionaire.

He was smart, even more so than that nerd friend of his that you destroyed the life of. But more importantly he actually had some tact, and was surprisingly packed underneath all those baggy clothes.

Tim had to admit he was kind of forgetting his entire purpose of ‘fixing’ you.

Until you manipulated yet another guy into jumping off a school building for you. Thankfully he survived because Red Robin happened to be there to apprehend him but still!

And what’s worse, you met up with him afterwards talking about how that Red Robin ruined all your plans of crippling a r*pist.

Wait, a r*pist?

Tim looks through your past victims once more. Admitted he only did a surface level job of studying them in comparison to his PhD level knowledge on everything about you specifically.

And…you were right. Every guy you’ve harassed was being pushy with you in the first place, if not people with authority a decade older.

Fuck.

Well now he had no excuse. He had to make you his.

Meanwhile…

“Ugh, Damian. Can’t you tell your brother to like, fuck off or something? I can feel my social standing totally plummet every second he’s around. How do you handle being related to him?” You groaned. You weren’t fucking stupid. You knew Tim was stalking and drooling all over you lately. You hated it. He was ruining your chances with your new victims.

“Jeez [Y/N]. And here I thought you were like, into him.” Jessica, your actual crush and best friend, commented as she filed her nails.

You being the emotional stunted adult you were only replied with an (admittedly softer) “Eat a sandpaper cock and die bitch.”

Damian stared at you, the words die before they crawl out of his mouth. His hands clenched underneath the lunch tables.

Guess he had another thing to steal from his brother this time.

[reddpenn]

I’m back from my rock show! I got some Cool Rocks!

First, the agates.

Another Turkish stick agate to join my collection! I can't get enough of this stuff. These form as pseudomorphs of selenite. A bunch of criss-crossing selenite crystals grow inside an empty pocket in the rock, and then the space around them fills in with agate. Eventually, the selenite crystals dissolve, and the hollows they leave behind are also filled with agate, preserving a record of their shapes!

Bonus! This pair has a nice green fluorescence.

Here is another Turkish agate. (Almost all of today's agates are from Turkey; Turkey produces some beautiful agate specimens.) This one has a really interesting pattern to its banding.

I actually picked this one out for its fluorescence, which is a stunning bright green.

Also from Turkey! Growing inside a super cool crust of volcanic rhyolite, this agate is called sagenite. Sagenite agate has a fibrous appearance because it is a pseudomorph of a fibrous zeolite mineral.

The last two from Turkey: a pretty red specimen with a sparkly central vug, and a weirdo with squiggles of yellow. What’s going on with that guy?

This one is from China! The red and orange agates from this locale are called "Fighting Blood" agate. I already have a Fighting Blood in my collection, but I thought this one was neat because its vug is full of amethyst!

Here are some things which are not agate!

This one is a lead mineral called plumbogummite! Specifically, these crystals are a pseudomorph of another lead mineral called pyromorphite. Over time, the lime green pyromorphite crystals were slowly replaced by the tealy plumbogummite. In a few of the broken crystals, you can still see a green pyromorphite core!

Hyalite opal! This rock has been on my bucket list, I am so excited. This form of opal is known for its water-clear, jelly-like globule formations. Though typically a colorless mineral, this specimen is tinted yellow due to iron staining. It’s also a mineral famous for its bright fluorescence… but this specimen’s glow is utterly unimpressive. :c I will be on the lookout for a more glowy specimen at future shows. Honestly, I’m just happy to finally own some at all!

This year, I also got some high-end mineral specimens! Take a look at these beauties.

Roselite! This rare, toxic mineral is full of arsenic. If I ate it I would probably die! Roselite’s deep red color comes from the cobalt in its chemical structure, and makes it highly sought after by collectors. This specimen is showing off a well defined lenticular crystal habit! Again, I cannot overstress how rare this stuff is. I spent… an inadvisable amount of money on it.

Oh, the best and most sparkly boy. This is wulfenite! I have wanted a piece in my collection for so long, and I’ve been waiting for just the right specimen to come along. It's a lead mineral, and it forms the coolest square, tabular crystals! This mineral is extremely brittle, which makes large, intact crystals of it very hard to find. But check out the huge tabular crystal on the right side of this specimen, it’s bigger than my thumbnail!!

And finally, I could not resist buying something silly.

This is Tully. He's a plush Tully Monster, which is my state fossil!

[cyber333angel]

hey love!! i have an idea:)

rough!rafe fucking you in a dressing room because he thinks you tried on something too revealing

୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ ˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ ˚୨୧⋆｡˚

you two would be at the mall, his arm covered in cute little outfits picked out by you as he follows you around. you chose about two more outfits before you decided you wanted to try them on, having rafe come with you into the changing room to hand you the clothes. all of them looked beautiful on you of course but especially in this pink dress. you did a a twirl in the mirror admiring yourself, “rafe what do you think? it’s so cute right?” he nods his head observing his pretty girl, “yes baby you look gorgeous.”

“I can’t wait to wear it out!” you exclaim and rafe jerks his head back, surprised that you think it’s appropriate to wear out.“where would you be going in that? you look beautiful sweetheart trust me but your not wearing that outside the house.” you immediately huff at his response looking at him, very sure that you will change his mind. “you can’t control what I wear rafe, i can buy and wear whatever I want.” your boyfriend scoffs at you and nods his head, “sure you can. but im not fucking buying it so I guess your outta luck huh?” rolling your eyes, “you don’t have to. my other man can buy it for me.” you say this only to piss him off, you both know you have your own money but it’s obvious you just wanna get under his skin. rafe immediately gets ticked off by your snarky comment, getting up from his seat to face you more closely. “ your other man huh?” nodding he says, lifting his hand to grip your throat harshly and leans closer to your ear. “take all this shit off.” and you wince from his hold, slowing nodding your head to show you are complying with him.

..the dress that started this argument was long gone on the floor leaving you in only your bra as he fucked up into you. with his arm around your neck in a headlock preventing any sobs from leaving your mouth as you paw at his elbows. trying to get some balance from the rough position as he plunges into your sloppy cunt, dragging his cock in and out. “you like making me mad? huh baby?” the squelches from your hole were faint sounding over the music at the mall, giving rafe the ability to deliver harsh thrust as a punishment to show you that you don’t talk to him like that. “talking about getting some other man to buy shit for you because i said no?” you shake your head with reason your eyes, only spewing out apologies in your quietest voice. “no m’sorry daddy! i just really liked the dress and wanted to make you get it for me..!”

“yeah you know better then to act like that with me.” he tells you with his hand gripping at your waist. his dick buried deep into your aching cunt as you try to keep your composure and not moan out loud of how good your feel. his hips stutter up into your pussy once more and rafe cums, painting his white liquid all over your walls. “fuck..” he whispers, pulling out of your leaky cunt leaving you confused. “mm rafey I didn’t get to c-cum..!” and he smirks, chuckling to himself. “you think spoiled brats get to cum? with the fuckin tantrum you just had?” you look at him with needy eyes, knowing your lesson now. “said m’sorry already daddy! you know I didn’t mean it..” you pout and plead as you watch rafe observe your face, thinking. he sighs, knowing he can’t resist you when you act like that. “I’ll think about it when we get home so, get your clothes and we’ll go pay for them.“ you brighten up at his response, putting your clothes back on to go pay when you feel his hand sliver up your back. leaning his head close to your ear he tells you, “I’ll get you the fuckin dress but you only wear it when im around. got it?” and you nod your head fast with a grin, happy that you won him over. “mhm thank you rafey!” giving you a peck on the forehead as the both of you leave the dressing room. “yeah whatever kid.”

[11cupids-tarot11]

Habits of your future spouse that might annoy you 😅

1 -> 3

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Love y'all

- Cupid 𖥔 ࣪ ᥫ᭡ꗃ⋆࣪.

Pile 1- Four of swords, Seven of wands, two of cups and Queen of coins.

So I'm seeing this person will annoy you with how closed off they are. They don't let their emotions show easily, it's hard getting this person to really settle down and be grounded. I don't think this person doesn't ever want to settle down, I think they're just scared of commitment but more specifically love, getting close to someone. Maybe they've been hurt by people before, rather it be an ex who left them feeling guarded or just walls being up because they think how cuel the world is, whatever it may be they feel they have to protect these feelings from everyone, and that will annoy you I'm assuming lol. You might not really understand this person's intentions at first, you might think they're disinterested or you wanting to move the relationship to a more serious level and they could be resistant, really confusing, like you just don't know what this person's next move is. But this energy is really frustrating! Like, either you love me or don't srsly man 😭 I see this person really does want you, they are serious about you and I think that scares them because again they're so closed off and guarded, but they really do worship you. They might think you're also out of their "league" I'm hearing, there could be some insecurities around their ego as well.

I'm mostly picking up on that and not much of anything else? I wanted this pick a pile to be a little longer but it seems this is all spirit wants to flow through for now lol.

I hope you enjoyed! See you next time, don't forget to do the pole at the bottom!

Other messages- Cancer, Pisces, 14, I'm sorry. (Seems like someone wants to apologize for something? I heard "I'm sorry" multiple times during this.)

Pile 2- Ace of coins, Five of wands, The magician, Eight of cups in reverse.

This person tends to be fixed on money at times, it might annoy you how materialistically this person might be. I'm also seeing this person likes to take on battles on their own, will fight anyone on earth for you and you don't have to move fingernail, they like to try and be the solution to all of your problems and this will annoy, it could be you just hate how this person makes all of your problems their own to the fullest which is a nice trait to have but it's also not healthy. This person could have a hard time letting toxic people go, they have a bit of a people pleasing energy. With the Magician card I'm getting this person really likes fixing everyone's problems, having their "Aha!" Moments and that might really irritate you, you could help this person coming out of that energy and teach them it's okay to not be everyone's hero, that it's not their job all the time to give themselves away so much.

I hope you enjoyed this reading! Don't forget to do the poll below! See you soon 🩷

Other messages- Aries, Leo, Sagittarius.

Pile 3- Three of coins, Knight of Swords, Three of cups and Five of swords

This person would rather sit in silence and struggle rather than ask for help. This person could like going out and partying a lot or maybe likes taking you on dates out doors a lot in crowded places, you could be more introverted than them so this annoys you a bit lol.

I think this person might have a temper they're still learning to control? Like I think they're a calm person but as soon as they get ticked off their words cut deep, and they know that actually.

Maybe this person has a lot of talent, you see a lot of potential in this person or they share lots of good ideas with you and it might annoy you that this person doesn't believe in themselves to finally turn their dreams into reality? I see you really want the best for this person so it might really annoy you that you know they're not giving it all they've got, you see how far they can go, they just need that extra bit of encouragement from you!

Hi! Hope you liked this reading! Don't forget to do the poll at the bottom please! See you soon! 🩷

Other messages- Gemini, Libra, Aquarius, blue, water, wings and 14.

[dovveri]

you can kiss a hundred boys in bars

synopsis: good luck, babe! - inspired fic (essentially sana left 6 years ago and you still can't stop thinking about her even though you're married to another man)

warnings: cheating, internalised homophobia, not chronological, implied sex, cursing

w/c: 6.4k

a/n: hi 😀 this one may not hit as many of the audiences but it was interesting to write. i zon't think i like it toooo much for how much time i spent on it (edit: the moots have made my day i do like this one a lot actually) but just one of those things i needed to get out before i was able to move on to the next thing :P weeeEEEEHHEEEE i love angst!!!!!!!

ok this one's going to be a bit different guys pls READ THIS or you'll be like what the fuck. purple text is the present. ty enjoy, that was it LOL.

▂▂⌇

you wake up with a migraine. it came not long after you married frank and it’s stayed ever since. you sit up on the bed, careful not to make too much movement or sound to wake your husband next to you. although that was pretty unlikely anyway considering how he slept.

you sigh lightly, holding your head in your hands trying to mitigate the damage.

your head starts drifting off, as it did on most nights these days. it seemed the only thing that ever worked to stop the pounding in your head was thinking about her.

▂▂⌇

funnily enough, sana was actually the reason you and frank had met.

it had happened when the both of you were at a bar after class celebrating the end of exams. sana being sana had made a whole group of friends 10 minutes upon entering the establishment. you were sitting back watching her challenge someone to down the most shots in one minute. you would have stopped her on another day but after the hell week she's been through with her finals, you figured she deserved it. and you'd be there to take her home afterwards anyway.

she's whooping and jumping around, turning back to you with a grin when she wins. the poor loser skulking away back to his friends.

frank goes up to her then. introducing himself with that kind voice of his, just making sure she had someone to go home with and look after her.

and sana adored the attention. she's flirting with that charm of hers that no one could resist. but strangely enough, frank resisted. he was a gentleman, not wanting to pursue anything while sana was intoxicated, instead, he asked who could look after her, and sana points to you.

▂▂⌇

you're not getting back to sleep. instead you silently step out of bed, grabbing your phone and the hidden pack of cigarettes you kept in the second drawer of your bedside cupboard.

you step outside onto the balcony, breathing in the cool night air, shivering a little as you wrap the blanket you left on the balcony chair around you.

you click the lighter on, the small flame illuminating the darkness of the night, the only other light source aside from the moon. you're thinking if sana's somewhere she can see the moon right now while you put the lighter to the end of your cigarette. is it night for her? was she asleep? did she ever think about you?

you bring the stick to your mouth, inhaling, feeling the roughness of the nicotine hit your lungs, and exhaling softly, watching the wisps of smoke dissolve into the night sky.

sana hated when you smoked. frank didn't like it too much either, but he was never able to stop you.

▂▂⌇

"do you have to do that here?" sana's frowning when you release a puff of smoke into the air.

"sorry. stressed." you mumble in response, cig still stuck between your lips.

"you know i can help with that. just not when you taste like an ashtray." sana's still staring at the cancer stick you're sucking on with contempt, she never hated anything but if you had to place your money on something it'd be your bad habit.

you're smiling sheepishly, taking the cigarette out of your mouth and smooshing the end until it's not burning anymore.

the frown on her face is gone immediately, she's charmed you listen to her so easily. and she sticks to her word, stepping closer and leaning in.

your lips meet lazily, she's got a hand on your cheek, the other at your waist. you're wrapping your arms around her hips, holding her against you as your lips slot against each other.

sana was an attractive woman. there was no doubt about that. the two of you had met during high school. she had caught you sneaking off for a smoke during P.E. and had somehow convinced you to go and get your nails done with her instead. ever since then you two had been inseperable.

it was after you broke up with your first boyfriend in college that you started sleeping together. you remember he had decided to call it off because he was going all mormon and was ashamed of having had sex already, calling you a 'sex-addicted whore who was sent by the devil to tempt him into the flames of hell'. sana despised that he made you feel unwanted, and even more that he blamed you for the break up. she needed you to know just how valued you were, just how wanted you were, and in her drunk dazed mind that meant worshipping you until you came crying under her. and in your drunk dazed, heartbroken, self-pitying mind, you let her.

when it happened again, and again, and again, and then not under any alcoholic influence, the both of you decided to continue seeking each other out for sexual relief whenever you were stressed, or in any sort of mood that called for sex. you stopped every time one of you started a new relationship, but you always found your way back into each other's arms eventually.

▂▂⌇

you curse lightly when you reach the end of your cigarette.

picking out another one, you’re repeating your actions, lighting it up, bringing it between your lips, inhaling, feeling it fill your lungs, and then pushing it back out.

there hasn’t been a single day that’s gone by where you hadn’t thought about sana. frank didn’t get it at first. he asked you why you couldn’t just call her, you two were the best of friends, surely it wouldn’t be that difficult to reconnect?

he didn’t know you slept with sana on the night of you and frank’s wedding. doesn’t know the countless times you’ve slept with her before that. doesn’t know sana woke up earlier than you the next day, disappearing into the early morning, no note, no text, nothing. you were too ashamed to try and contact her for weeks after that, it wasn’t until you came back from your honeymoon that you realised you were knocking on an empty door when you tried to find her at her apartment. it was cleaned out, no furniture, no remnants of her, nothing to prove she even existed. you had called her over and over, tears of desperation spilling over, holding back choked sobs that only grew stronger with each voicemail message.

it wasn't until sana's old landlord holding a 'for lease' sign in his hand comes and kicks you out that you finally realise you'd lost her.

after that, your relationship with frank started to deteriorate. what did you expect though? was it sana's fault? if sana hadn't left would you have lived happily ever after, the three of you together?

it took a long time to realise the answer to that was no. you spent years blaming sana for leaving, and when you finally came to the terms that you were the one who drove her away, it was too much to bear.

▂▂⌇

"y/n!"

you smile at the sound of sana calling you in the corridor, turning to meet her hug as she crashes into you.

she starts talking your ear off and you nod along enthusiastically, but suddenly she stops, looks down to your hand, intertwined with someone else's.

"oh. who's this y/n?"

you look over at your newest boyfriend in surprise, almost forgetting he was holding your hand and standing next to you. you tended to forget a lot of things when sana was around.

"oh this is danny. we met at that bar i told you about last week remember?"

"hmm..." she's looking up at him in scrutiny, eyes squinted and eyebrows furrowed. you can feel danny's palms start to sweat under her gaze.

"one week huh? not bad, let's see how long you last, if you go longer than a month then i'll introduce myself to you." sana says then.

"sana!" you're hitting her lightly, flabbergasted at her insinuation.

"what? your last one was like 3 days. you just keep breaking these guys' hearts y/n." she places a hand over her heart dramatically.

danny's tightening his grip around your hand, speaking up, "excuse me, i don’t appreciate you wishing doom on our relationship even before its started. and i wouldn’t want to be introduced to a slut who’s never had a real relationship before anyway.”

sana’s speechless for a second but her face morphs into a scowl quickly after, “okay danny,” spitting out his name, “first rule of being a decent boyfriend? don’t talk shit about your girlfriend’s best friends. let’s see you last another hour after that comment.” she turns to you, raising an eyebrow, “you gonna let him off with that y/n?”

you’re stuck, and danny’s looking at you expectantly.

“sana… that comment was a little uncalled for y’know… you did kinda start this…”

danny’s smirking, looking smugly back towards sana.

“what?! are you serious right now y/n? y’know what? i don’t care. your life and whatever. see you later.” she’s stomping off, your heart sinking as you watch her.

“c’mon babe, forget her. let’s go get sushi.” danny doesn’t wait for a response before he’s pulling you in the other direction.

▂▂⌇

when you wake up again the next day, frank’s gone.

you stumble to your feet, clumsily making your way to the bathroom.

it’s almost late afternoon already. you’re lucky you didn’t have work today.

sana always used to scold you if you woke up past noon. she said you'd waste the whole day sleeping when you could have been spending it with her.

these days the second option wasn't exactly viable.

you cringe a little when you catch sight of yourself in the mirror. unkempt hair, dark circles under your eyes, visible signs of ageing. you'd bet sana still looked as radiant as she was all those years ago.

your phone starts buzzing when you turn on your electric toothbrush. it couldn't be anyone else other than frank. you didn't really talk to anyone else anyway. after sana left, you became a social recluse, and a lot of your friends were technically sana's friends so without that mutual connection anymore, you drifted from them very quickly.

“hello?”

“hey y/n, is my white button-up back from the dry cleaners yet? i need it tonight for this work event.”

“… no you didn’t tell me to pick anything up.”

“what? i left a note for you on the fridge did you not see it?”

“i just woke up frank.”

“it’s 2pm.”

“yeah.”

you can hear him sigh over the phone, “alright it’s fine i’ll pick it up after work.” he hangs up abruptly after he says that.

no goodbye, no i love you, he doesn’t call you by any pet names anymore either, just y/n. well it’s not like you did any of those things for him so you suppose it’s fair. he did do a lot of those things when you were dating and early in your marriage but eventually, when you stopped responding and got more and more tired of being with him, he stopped trying as well. you can’t even remember the last time you were intimate together.

frank had suggested the both of you try out marriage counselling but you were strongly against the idea. you didn’t feel particularly excited about disclosing everything that went on with sana with frank let alone with a complete stranger. you remember that week you fought about it and you ran away and didn’t come back until a month later. frank only tried to call you once during that time.

▂▂⌇

you were standing in front of an apartment door in japan.

you weren’t really thinking when you stood at the front desk of the airport, demanding a ticket for the next flight to osaka with only a small backpack and some essentials you were able to grab after your fight with frank.

it wasn’t until you were physically in the plane that you realised you didn’t actually know anyone but sana there. and you had made that unconscious decision because being with frank was simply too… nothing, and being with sana was… everything. it had been over 6 years since you had seen her last, when she left you that quiet night in may.

though it seems fate was on your side this time. sana’s cousin just happened to be working at the airport the night you arrived, when she recognised you, she was waving excitedly, ushering you over.

“y/n right? oh my goodness i haven’t seen you in so long! not since that time sana brought you here 7 years ago right?” her accent is a little thick but you’re grateful she can speak korean regardless, you could only understand very basic japanese picked up from sana.

you’re nervously rubbing the back of your neck, “ahaha yeah… do you actually happen to have sana’s address?”

she frowns a little, “she didn’t give it to you when she found out you were coming?”

it seems like sana hasn’t told many people about your relationship with her either.

“u-um ahaha no she must have forgotten. you know how she gets… too excited she forgets the important little details.”

the cousin laughs a little in response, agreeing and quickly typing in sana’s address on your phone. internally you’re thanking all the gods and deities you know of for this stroke of luck or you’d really be stranded in osaka with no knowledge of the language and nowhere to stay.

“i have to get back to work but say hi to sana for me! we haven’t seen her much since she came back a few years ago, she’s been really busy with work i think.”

you nod, heart pounding at the tidbits of information you’re getting about sana. anything to fill in the 6 year gap you’ve been apart.

you wave goodbye, thanking her again and then you’re hailing down a taxi and showing the driver the destination on your phone.

so now you’re standing in front of her apartment door, hands sweaty and nervous, just praying she wouldn’t kick you out or worse.

you’ve been standing here stupidly, deliberating when, how, if you should even knock. when there’s a slight commotion to your left, the sound of a bag of groceries dropping and a light gasp.

“y/n?”

it’s very cinematic when you turn, sana coming into view for the first time in so long is like finding water in a desert. you’re drinking her in hungrily, her darker hair, smile lines, perfect nose, she looks just as beautiful as you remember.

“sana…” you’re voice is hoarse with emotion.

she’s taking slow steps towards you after picking up her groceries. one… two…

“what are you doing here?”

“i-i- u-um i-“

“how did you get my address?”

“u-um i saw y-your cousin at the airport and she recognised me and i- i may have asked her for your address... i'm sorry! i would have called or like let you know but... y'know... i-i couldn't really do that..."

she considers you for a little bit, looking you up and down, her face stoic.

"...did you come here for something then?"

"i- um- well not really it was k-kinda an impulse decision. u-um frank and i fought and i just- i don't know i went to the airport and i found myself here i guess..."

you notice how her hand tightens at the mention of frank's name, the slight sound of the crinkling of her grocery bag.

"and what did you want me to do about that?" she's pushing past you now, taking out her keys and starting to unlock her door. you begin to panic, scrambling for words.

"i- sana please! i- i'm sorry! i'm sorry okay?"

the jingling of her keys stops, but she doesn't look back at you.

"what are you sorry for? i'm the one who left remember?" her voice is bitter and a little shaky, you realise she's not facing you because she's trying not to cry. you ache to hold her.

"i… i’m the reason you left though. right? it took me a long time to realise but i’m sorry i wasn’t able to be true to myself and i’m sorry you were a casualty to that. i missed you sana…." your voice is quiet, you feel your own tears welling up in your eyes.

“… what weren’t you true to yourself about?”

you take a big inhale, breath shaky when you let it back out. “that i love you.” your voice is tiny, you just confessed your love for the woman you’ve spent most of your life with, the woman that’s occupied your mind every second of every minute since she’s entered your life. the woman you were too scared to admit you loved, who waited for you to do exactly that only for you to enter a loveless marriage with someone else. you can only imagine the pain you’ve put her through. it would be nothing compared to the last 6 years without her. and the last 6 years without sana were undoubtedly the worst of your life.

sana’s sniffling now, unable to hold back her cries.

you inch forward and tentatively place a hand on her shoulder. when she doesn’t move it, you shift closer again to wrap your arms around her loosely.

suddenly sana’s turning and burrowing her face in your neck, you feel her wet tears stain your skin, but also your own start to run down your face. you're surrounded with sana sana sana, her smell, her sounds, the feel of her against you when you tighten your arms around her. you missed this so fucking much. you missed her. and for the first time in 6 years, you finally felt like you were home again.

▂▂⌇

after you've finished your morning routine, you lazily trudge into the kitchen, discarding the small note frank had told you about, and pouring yourself a bowl of cereal.

you sigh into the empty house. frank wanted kids of course, that's why you bought such a large house in the first place. he had dreamt of the whole white-picket fence family and you were excited to share that with him and sana. she had helped you design the place, decorate it when you first moved in, she was meant to move across the street and you were going to grow old together and watch as your kids played around and became the best of friends, just like the two of you were.

now though? you hated this house. it just felt so much more empty. you and frank had tried for kids, although that only really drove you further apart. sex just became more of a chore than something you enjoyed, and when people know you're trying to get pregnant? suddenly everyone has their 2 cents on what you should eat, what types of exercise you should do, the latest superfood that was meant to make you more fertile. everyone seemed to have more control over your own relationship, over your own body than you did.

eventually, the small amounts of love you and frank had for each other, fizzled out. and you decided you didn't want to raise a child in a loveless marriage, that wouldn't be fair to them. frank, even with his endless optimism and kind soul, agreed.

▂▂⌇

that night in japan, for the first time in six years since you saw sana, you were able to kiss her again, to feel her bare skin against yours, to taste her as she writhed and cried out your name above you.

you woke up before her the next day, sun sluggishly making its way past the horizon. you watched as her breaths came in and out, soft, her expression at peace, not clouded with anger or sadness at you. you traced the lines of her face, recollecting every single hair, every mole, every perfection and imperfection on her, so she'd always be with you in your memory.

she stirred after a while, blinking softly and you wait for her to come to, fingers tracing soft lines over her side.

you feel her freeze under you, breathing picking up, just barely noticeable but you were sharing the same airspace. her eyes meet yours for the first time that morning and you're committing the brown irises to memory now as well.

"you didn't leave." her voice is laced with morning fatigue.

you only hum in response, continuing to trace random shapes into her skin.

"why?"

you take a moment to think about your answer. years ago, you would've been terrified with the idea that someone would've found out about the two of you. that someone would know your dirty little secret. and that secret was that you were in love with your best friend. it was different for sana. sana was flamboyant, and proud, and happy. it wouldn't matter who sana liked because that didn't take away from her personality. she was still valuable as a person. you weren't like that though. you were always just sana's best friend or danny's girlfriend or frank's girlfriend or whoever else you dated at the time. the moment you deviated from that, a new label would be stuck on you, and people would pity sana, talk about how she could do so much better, how you were a witch who lured sana in. so you were selfish. you took from sana, and you never gave back. because sana was perfect in your mind, and she didn't need anything else.

"i'm sorry. there's a lot to be sorry for and a lot i need to make up to you. but at the core of it all, i love you sana. these six years without you have been hell. and i'm sorry it took that long for me to realise this, but i love you, not frank, not anyone else, just you."

you feel your eyes begin to tear up, heavy with emotions, sana's mirroring you, her bottom lip slightly quivering.

"what happened with frank?" her voice is a little shaky.

"we fought. i didn't want to deal with him anymore, my feet took me to the airport, and i ended up here."

sana sighs then, turning away from you and lying on her back. "so you're still together?"

"well... i- no but-"

"how is this time any different then y/n?"

"i- i- it's over, me and him. seeing you again has affirmed that for me. there hasn't been love between frank and i for a long time. i never loved him the way i love you. i'm ending things as soon as i get back. i promise sana. please- please believe me." you're scrambling a little, you couldn't afford to lose sana again. not after you had just gotten her back.

you can see tears running down the side of her face. you hate yourself for making her cry. that seems to be all you ever made her do.

"okay."

"okay?"

she turns to you again, wiping at her eyes, "okay. i really shouldn't but i love you too much and i've missed you too much to say no."

"really?" your perking up, disbelief clear.

"you keep asking me that and i'll change my mind." she teases, smiling for the first time.

you're overjoyed. rolling onto her and sweeping her up in a kiss, hoping your actions convey your feelings for her better than your words do. she's laughing into you and god have you missed that sound. you attack her sides immediately, almost desperate to hear it again, to make her feel something other than the sadness you've caused her. you make a promise to yourself in that moment, that you'd never, never make sana cry again.

it took you only a month to break that promise.

▂▂⌇

"hi, frank's wife right?"

you resist the very strong urge to roll your eyes, instead nodding politely and listening as the woman who approached you launches into a conversation about her husband and how he and frank got along at work and really you couldn't care less.

you were at the work event frank had mentioned in the morning. he did end up picking up his own dry cleaning and you saw him briefly at the event when you first showed up, only saying a quick hello and kissing your cheek before he was off again mingling and entertaining guests.

you had intended on just sticking to the bar and making use of the free-flow alcohol but now this woman was talking to you about her kids, and whatever else and you really just want to throw your drink in her face and yell at her about how to read a room.

you spot frank in the corner of your eye, surrounded by a group of women. you knew he had slept with other people ever since you stopped accepting his advances and affection. you're honestly surprised he hasn't asked for a divorce yet.

but frank was kinder than you. you were still his friend before you were his wife. he still cared about you and didn't want you to be left alone. you couldn't seem to convince him you were fine alone. you learnt to be fine when sana left. although lately, even he seemed to see you less as a friend and more and more, just as his wife.

▂▂⌇

"i still can't believe that time you thought danny was a good choice for you. and you defended him too!" sana was laughing, slapping your arm playfully.

you whine in response, "i told you i was sorry for that alright!!"

she's still laughing when frank comes back to the two of you, looking at you inquisitively and gesturing vaguely towards sana. you shrug, helping him set the food he had ordered for the three of you on the table.

"what's funny sana?" he asks, sliding into the booth with you and picking up a burger.

sana's waving a chip around now, pointing at you, "just talking about y/n's shitty taste in men."

frank fakes shock, looking at you with an exaggerated look of hurt, "me?"

you laugh, hitting him lightly, "not you dummy."

"yeah you're one of the good ones franky. probably the only good one out there."

"aww thanks sana."

sana grins, digging into her food.

you smile at the two of them. your two favourite people in the world. when you first met frank, you were skeptical of him. you were sure he was only trying to be friends with you to get with sana. so imagine your surprise when he had actually been plotting with sana behind your back to ask you out. you had said yes of course, he was a sweet guy, attractive too, and most importantly, sana liked him.

you ended up hitting it off, and the three of you were almost inseparable after that.

it wasn't until about 7 months into your relationship that sana started distancing herself. she would say she was busy, turn down more offers to go out, start hanging around a new group of people.

you heard from frank later that they had some sort of disagreement, which was why sana had started avoiding you. you were hurt by this though, because sana was still your friend. she was yours before you were frank's, and even when you were frank's you were still hers. didn't she know that? she had to.

you intended for her to know that when you cornered her, a late afternoon on a friday when the three of you used to go out for ice-cream as a reward for the week's end, but she had been staying behind to study or always had something else on instead.

"why are you avoiding me?"

sana's eyes are everywhere, her movements skittish as she tries to look for an escape before giving up and huffing. "i don't know what you're talking about."

"yes you do."

"no i don't."

"stop this sana. frank told me the two of you fought. if you don't want to be around him fine. that's your choice. but that doesn't mean you get to avoid me too."

she looks at you then, eyes fiery, "is that what he told you?"

you nod, "i don't understand sana. i don't care that you fought. i can seperate us and my relationship with frank. you're still my best friend."

"we fought because he told me he felt like i was stealing you from him."

"what?"

"yeah. he said he never got to spend any time with you. i was always there. he felt like he was the one who was third-wheeling our relationship."

the words third-wheel and our relationship swim around in your mind, "w-what? that's impossible!"

"is it really though y/n?" sana's voice is soft now.

"what do you mean?"

"i mean, is it really impossible for you to see us that way? frank obviously did, and he felt threatened by that."

"w-what- sana what are you talking about?"

she sighs a little in frustration, and then suddenly she's yanking you forward by the collar and planting her lips against yours. you react automatically, kissing her back, hands immediately going to her waist as you revel in the feeling of her soft lips against yours. it was always so different kissing sana compared to all the other guys you've been with. you chalked it up to the fact that sana took care of her skin, her lips, the way she smelled, all of that made kissing her that much sweeter.

but then you remember frank and you're pulling away, breaths heavier than they were mere seconds ago. "what the fuck sana?!" you're whipping your head around, looking to see if anyone had seen the two of you. it seemed to be clear.

sana's chuckling lowly, wiping at her lips, face downcast.

"what were you thinking?! i'm with frank! you set me up with frank!"

her eyes meet yours again, and you're taken back by the glassy look on her face. she's whispering, "i know. i know and i hate myself for it. i thought- i thought if- i thought i could get over this if i saw you happy with someone else. and then you were! and i just felt worse y/n. and then frank could tell and that was the last straw i guess. i needed to be away, away from you so i could get make these stupid feelings go away. i'm sorry y/n i'm so so sorry."

you're dumbfounded, staring at her blankly when she starts sobbing, hands coming to wipe at tears falling faster than she could catch them.

you don't understand what this means, what you felt, all you knew in that moment was sana was crying. the person you cared about most in the world was crying and you were the reason for it. so you do the one thing to make her stop. you tilt her chin up, heart breaking at the sniffles and the watery eyes, and you press your lips against hers again.

you end up where you've ended up so many times. legs entangled, sweaty bodies on sheets, heavy breathing, and minds lost.

▂▂⌇

you couldn't stand being inside anymore. it was suffocating.

you breathe out smoke as you exhale, the cigarette end still burning.

you watch as someone makes their way outside, shuffling around a little in their pockets and cursing when they realise they don't have a lighter.

the person looks towards you and you hold out yours. you help them light the end of their cigarette and nod when they mutter their thanks, inhaling the smoke into their lungs and standing awkwardly to the side.

it's a few minutes here in the cold, and you're almost finished your cigarette, about to throw it away when the stranger speaks up.

"do i know you from somewhere?"

you pause, looking back, you don't think you recognise this person. "you must have me confused for someone else, i'm sorry."

"wait... no you're sana's best friend right!?"

you drop the cigarette in your hand in shock. it had been a long time since someone had said that name out loud. she only ever lived in your head, it was hard to believe she was someone to other people too.

"right yes of course i remember now! i'm momo i was sana's roommate in college. although you probably don't remember i think we only really met like once. sana was always with you around campus and posted you a lot though so i remember you."

you vaguely recall the woman as she chatters away excitedly.

"right... momo... it's nice to meet you. i'm y/n."

momo grins, "have you spoken to sana lately? i don't think i saw you at the wedding, although i may have just been drunk." she chuckles a little at herself, not realising the way your face drops.

"wedding?"

momo looks at you a little in confusion, "yeah. last month? sana got married in sapporo."

your head is spinning with the new information. sana was married?

“woah you feeling okay?” momo’s reaching out for your shoulder, steadying you. you didn’t even realise you had lost your balance.

“i-i- yeah sorry.”

“you sure? are you here with anyone? anyone i can call?”

“no. it’s okay, thank you though.”

“yeah no problem.”

she’s shuffling back again, sucking on her cigarette.

“sana and i haven’t spoken in years. i was just a little surprised is all.” you speak up when you feel a little steadier on your feet.

“oh shit! i’m so sorry y/n i had no idea!”

“it’s okay, it seems no one really does.” you laugh a little bitterly.

momo doesn’t know how to respond to this, flicking her eyes between you and the door.

“it’s fine though. i’m happy for her.” the words taste vile on your tongue. is this what sana felt when she watched you walk down the aisle on your wedding day?

momo softens a little, “she is happy.” she offers you a kind smile, tapping out her cigarette and mumbling a quick thanks before heading back inside.

once you're sure she's gone you let yourself break down. sobs wrack your body as you hold your hands over your mouth trying to quiet them. you can barely see through the tears streaming out of your eyes. this was it. you'd finally lost her. you couldn't cling to the delusion that somewhere out there, some of her still belonged to you, some of her happiness, her memories, her love. you'd lost all of that now.

▂▂⌇

"what was that y/n?"

"what?"

"don't fuck with me right now. that was frank wasn't it? on the phone just then?"

you sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose, "what do you want me to say sana?"

"that you're keeping your promise. that you're going to return to him, break up with him, and then you're going to come back here to me. and then we can finally start our lives together."

"it's not that easy sana."

she explodes, "what do you mean?! it is that easy y/n! you told me when you came here that you and frank were over. have been for years. and now you can't tell me that same thing?"

"i don't- no sana-"

"what? what y/n? what’s your excuse now? do you have to make sure your job is secure? after you've spent a whole fucking month here you expect me to think you still care about that? do you have a child with him? is that it? is he sick? what other possible excuse is there for 'it's not that easy sana'?!"

"you don't get it! you can't say that to me sana!"

"what?! what don't i get?! tell me y/n, let's sort this shit out right fucking now. tell me why you can't be with me."

"it's not- that's just the way i am sana! i can't-"

"you told me you loved me. was that a lie then?" her eyes are brimming with tears, anger evident and your heart breaks again. you promised, you promised her and you promised yourself that this wouldn't happen again.

you're quick to step in again, trying to stop her from crying the one way you know how, brushing her cheeks with your thumbs and kissing her.

she doesn't let you get away with it this time though. she rips away from you, placing a hand on your chest and pushing you back lightly, keeping you literally at arm's length.

"don't do that." she's chuckling, her laughs mixed in with quiet sobs, "don't think you can just kiss away your problems. that's not how real life works y/n."

"please sana, please just-"

"what? you want me to be okay being your secret again? you want to be able to go around in public with frank only to come home to me? you can't have both y/n! i'm not going to do that again for you!"

you’re both crying now, standing across from each other in sana’s apartment, a place that’s felt more like home to you in a month than your place with frank has felt for you in six years.

your voice comes out in a hoarse whisper when you speak up, “i can’t- i can’t feel like this sana.”

sana’s wiping at her eyes with the sleeve of her sweater. then she’s turning on her heel and heading into the bedroom.

you follow her, you’d follow her anywhere, but your heart sinks when you realise she’s going around the room picking up your belongings and shoving them into your bag.

“w-wait s-sana, what- what are you doing? stop please-“

you’re almost begging, scrambling after her trying to pull her back but she’s stubborn, she’s able to fill the bag within a minute and then she’s pushing it into you, and out the door.

“please! sana please i can’t lose you again don’t do this please- you’re my best friend sana.”

she’s managed to successfully push you out the front door now, still crying. “but you’re not mine y/n. you were never my best friend. you were always the love of my life. and you can’t be that for me anymore. so leave. please. don’t try and find me again.”

“n-no sana please d-don’t-“

“you’d have to stop the world just to stop what you feel for me y/n. but you don’t realise that. and i’m sick of loving someone who can’t give me all of that love back.”

and then she’s slamming her door shut in your face, the both of you sobbing on opposite sides of the door, hearts shattered a second time, and later, when it happens a third time, it’s only the sound of yours breaking.

[ilyrafe]

𝒍𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒄𝒂𝒖𝒔𝒆 ✧ 𝒓. 𝒄.

pairing: ex!rafe cameron x f!reader

warnings: angst, physical injuries, blood (it's brief), objetification of reader (not by rafe).

word count: 1,1k

the vibrating sound of your phone on the bedside table startles you a bit. even with your vision blurry, you manage to read rafe’s name shining on the screen. it’s late, the clock marks fifteen past two, and getting a call from him at this time is worrying, but fighting the fatigue, you answer his call.

“hello?”

“it’s me. you home?” his tone is urgent, which worries you even more. he’s definitely in trouble.

“why?”

“are you home or not?”

“yes, rafe. why are you calling me?”

“i’m at your door and i need your help right now.”

he hangs up abruptly and you sigh, anticipating yet another stressful interaction with rafe. it’s in situations like these that you wonder why you gave him the time of the day for almost a whole year of your life.

rafe is trouble, and you want none of it.

you quickly get up and head to the entrance of your small house. small, but yours. all the furniture, even if it is second-hand, is yours, as it was bought with your money, earned with a lot of sweat, something rafe will never understand.

as soon as you open the door, you come across a bruised and bloody rafe, which scares you. before you can say anything, he enters your house and sits on the tiny couch.

the scene is deplorable.

“rafe! what- what the hell happened to you?!”

“been in a fight, alright? i just can’t come back home looking like this.”

“in a fight with who?”

“i doesn’t matter. just help me.”

you sigh, tired and irritated. rafe is difficult to deal with. he beats the others out of tiredness and that is irritating. you go to the bathroom and grab a small bag with first aid items, and return to the living room right away, sitting next to him on the couch.

he winces when you pat the cotton ball on his bruises, but you don’t feel bad at all. this is what he deserves. you avoid looking him in the eye while you’re cleaning his face up. you know you can’t resist his baby blues.

you take his hands in yours. the contrast of size is beautiful, somehow. his huge, calloused hands with golden rings have always been attractive. his knuckles are red and quite swollen. you clean his hands up and only hear rafe’s huffs when he feels the sting of the rubbing alcohol. you might be doing that on purpose.

very quickly, you put some bandaids where you find necessary and bandage his hand up, where it’s swollen.

“all done.”

“thank you.”

oh, he knows the magic words. you know you’ll regret it, but you have to ask.

“what happened, rafe?”

he sighs and leans back, taking a deep, exhaustive breath.

“it doesn’t matter, y/n. it’s solved, it’s done.”

“you woke me up in the middle of the night, came over unannounced and made me patch you up. i deserve to know what the fuck happened and if i’m in trouble.”

“you’re not in trouble.” he clarifies, as he passes his fingers over the gauze on his hand. “one of barry’s friends said some weird shit about you.”

“who said what?” you frown.

you never really liked barry, let alone his “friends”. they’re beyond shady and you hate how rafe keeps them in his life.

“you don’t want to know.” you cock an eyebrow and rafe sighs once again, defeated. “babe, it’s inappropriate, don’t make me repeat it.”

babe. you forgot how much you loved when rafe called you sweet nicknames. yes, rafe is an overall asshole, but he isn’t all bad, you have to admit it. the thing is that he actively lets his bad side take over, and you can’t handle that.

“say it.”

“it was bryan. he, um… he said he… um…”

“say it, rafe.”

“he said he hoped to be the next in line to be inside your c-”

“okay, i get it.” you feel like crying and throwing up, but you maintain your composure. “he said that because he wanted to get to you, rafe, that’s all. i’ve never even spoken to him.”

you don’t know why you’re explaining yourself to rafe, but you feel like you have to. for some reason, you don’t want him to think you’re a slut that fucks every guy. deep down, you want rafe to realize he lost something really great, but that day may never come.

“i know, i’m not worried about that.” he says. “i just don’t want him near you.”

“rafe-”

“i know we’re not together anymore, and i swear i’m not being controlling, but bryan is bad and i don’t want him near you, ever. okay?”

“okay.”

after your response, rafe seems to relax a bit. he closes his eyes and his smug makes a comeback.

“you should’ve seen his face. what a bitch.”

you roll your eyes and chuckle.

“thank you for defending me, but really, let them talk. they just want to get to you.”

“now they know what happens when they speak of you.”

there’s a brief moment of silence between you both; it’s comfortable.

rafe seems tired, and you really don’t want him to leave, but you know it’s not going to end well if he stays over.

it’s been over four months since the definitive breakup and you’ve tried to go no contact with rafe, but it’s hard because you live in the same place, you have the same friends and rafe never wanted to stop talking to you.

“i still feel like i need to protect you,” he says, breaking the silence.

you lay next to him, your faces being so close, your noses are almost touching. this is dangerous territory, but you don’t care at this point. you touch his cheek so softly, he closes his eyes again.

he leans in, trying to get to your lips, and they touch briefly, before you lean back, effectively rejecting his kiss.

“i think you should go.”

rafe stares at you, clearly hurt. he gets up from your couch and leaves.

if you could, you would do everything necessary to make this relationship work, but that means changing rafe completely, and you don’t know if you’re in love with rafe, or are resigned to the crumbs of kindness he gives you.

no relationship should survive on small moments of love, and you’re no longer satisfied by the thrill of having a good moment with rafe.

when you broke up with him, he begged you for another chance, but you had already given him a thousand chances. you’ve played this game before and you ended up hurt and slightly traumatized.

you can’t change rafe and he doesn’t want to help himself, so there’s nothing left for you to do.

i love feedback, tell me your thoughts! <3

[edgeray]

Hi Ray! 🍅 Anon here~

Have fun on your holiday and enjoy it to the best you can! Be sure to stay hydrated, the weather is really mental these days.

Just wanted to share a bit of brainrot I had regarding soft Arle, whether or not you choose to make it into a fic is up to you!

Arle with her frame and demeanor is most definitely the Top + Dom in the relationship with reader, but how about when she’s insecure? Seeing reader take care of the children and feeling as though she doesn’t deserve to be as loved as said children, then reader after putting the kids to bed embraces Arle and puts her head against their chest so Arle can hear their heartbeat more clearly while patting Arle and assuring her that they love her for her and that she DEFINITELY deserves to be spoilt… (reader knows Arle too well to not pick up on her tells and knows that Arle’s being harsh on herself)

Or maybe reader writing in to the Tsaritsa (without Arle knowing) to ask if Arle can take a 2 week break just to take care of the children and spend time as a couple (What if!! Tsaritsa was the one who wed them!!! And just closes both eyes and approves time off). Then reader proceeds to spoil Arle in every way possible - breakfast in bed, a warm bath after sparring with the children (no, not that kind of bath, but a fluffy one where Arle gets a shoulder massage and scrubbed clean and gets lots of loving kisses everywhere she’s insecure of), a feast of sashimi and steak tartare for dinner and a soft bed and loving wife in the night. I wanna spoil Arle like that but 😭

Oh! And since Harbingers are like celebrities in Snezhnaya, do you think Arle would have a fanclub there? Think about it! She’s young, has a boatload of money (you CANNOT convince me #4 doesn’t have money when #11 has an unimaginable sum at the bank), can handle kids well (she runs the HotH), and as a Harbinger who fights she probably is ripped (RIP her actual body proportions, they’re limited by Hoyo’s models, nobody is convincing me her body type isn’t like Lady Maria’s from Bloodborne, with abs, guns and muscular. Thighs.)

0 chance that she doesn’t have a line of sapphics lining up for her in Snezhnaya, even with the rumors of her being ruthless and cruel (I mean. If the rumors worked in making people back off. Arle simps like us wouldn’t exist to begin with lmao)… Imagine Arle trying to placate Jealous!Teasing!Reader!! Like Arle coming home on Valentine’s day a bit late to find reader teasing her about having a new lover meanwhile Arle was actually out buying a new dagger for reader to protect themselves with… reader being melodramatic because she knows and trusts Arle enough that Arle would never do anything like that (and Arle knows but plays along)

R: “Oh, woe is me! My wife came home late on Valentine’s with a dagger to end our relationship, whatever should I do?”

Arle: “My love…”

And if the children are around? They’d be busy either pretending they didn’t see anything or resisting the urge to claw their eyes out or handing each other eye bleach. Sending condolences to Lyney when one of the younger children ask something along the lines of

“Brother Lyney, do you think we’ll have another sibling soon if Father and Mother are this loving with each other”

(I headcanon that Arle does teach them sexuality education but not until they’re 10 and before that the older children tell their younger siblings that children pop into existence when Papa and Mama love each other lots)

I’m so sorry this is getting really out of hand but Arle has me in a brainrot when I should be focusing elsewhere 💀

Rest Your Worries, Lax Your Heart

(Arlecchino x GN! Reader)

A/N - Thank you, I did have a fun vacation :). Wow that is a lot and I love every single bit of this ask 🍅 anon. It'd be unfair if I just wrote one part and not all of them, so what did I do? Combined all of them as best as I can, but of course some details had to be omitted/changed because of that–hopefully you don't mind. I'm a fucking genius. Also considering that Arle has an anime, but never got a beach episode, this is said beach episode. This took so long because this turned out to be pretty self-indulgent (I'm sure you know which scene it was). This is a long boi, way over what the request range is supposed to be, but hope this is worth it? Somehow, my brain was able to focus for at least like… 4 hours. Started this at 23:00 something, and it's nearly 04:00. 🍅 anon, I enjoy your asks, so I hope you personally enjoy this one :)  Content warnings / info - a bit of suggestiveness, reader is referred to as ‘Mother’ but is otherwise gn!, 3.2k words 

It took a lot of back and forth over the span of four months, writing to the Tsaritsa, but you had finally been able to arrange this without the knowledge of your husband. The Archon, generous as she is, approved of your proposal for a two week long break without much pushback or questioning, saying that loyalty was rewarded and as one of her more productive Harbingers, Arlecchino’s efforts warrant her a break. All the Tsaritsa asked for was the general details of the vacation: when, where, and the activities you would be doing, which was easy enough to answer to. Surprisingly, she bought an entire section of the Sumeru coast along with a sizable cabin for the two of you and the children for the duration of your respite when you told where you plan on the location being. You're not one to turn down such a gracious offer so you accepted it. As a Pyro user, she would surely enjoy somewhere as warm as Sumeru. 

Currently, you're holding the letter from the Tsaritsa, which contains a direct order from the Archon addressed to Arlecchino to stay at Sumeru. No matter how much you plead for her to rest, your husband only says that she can keep working and for you to not worry. Tracing the envelope stamp, you breathe in deeply before knocking on the door.

“Yes?” Called from beyond the door. 

“Can I come in, Arle?”

“Yes, my love,” she says with a lilt. 

You come in, striding towards her, holding up the back of the envelope while trying to suppress your smile. “This was addressed for you.”

Arlecchino takes it with a bit of suspicion at the crack in your facial expression. Turning it over, she notices the stamp, which is the mark of the word of the Archon. She narrows her brows and takes out a letter opener, taking out the letter with a bit more urgency. You watch her expression morph from confusion to mild shock to indifference again. 

“What does it say?” You inquire her, biting your lip to hide the smile.

“It says that I'm going to Sumeru in three days. For a respite.” She eyes you carefully, her eyes glinting red. “But you seem to know that already.” 

You nod, a smile forming . “I thought… you were working so hard, and you deserve a break. I asked the Tsaritsa if it was possible and she agreed to it, even paying for our stay there.” 

Arlecchino's face flicks to something indecipherable, like there was a hesitation, but it quickly disappears before you can think too much on it. She gets up from her desk chair, strutting to you before wrapping her arms around your midsection, pulling you into an embrace. She presses a tender kiss against your forehead. “Thank you, my dear, for your thinking of me. I'm sure the children would appreciate being out of the House. I'll tell the children about this, and we should begin packing.”  

But does she appreciate it? It's for her, after all. You chew on the inside of your cheek but your smile remains in place.

You tilt your head up to kiss her cheek. “I already packed for us. And I told the kids, already.”

“Hm, that's why they seem so antsy lately. Thank you,” Arlecchino hums. “You picked for us already?”

“Yes. Including your clothes,” you chuckle, deviously imagining her in the attires you picked out for her. At that, she raises her eyebrows.

“Oh? What are you planning, my love?” She teases, seizing your chin in her hands and tilting your head up to lock her eyes with yours. You can't stop the giggle that bubbles out. 

“Nothing too… scandalous…” you answer back. “Don't worry, it's nothing too bad. This is all for you to relax, remember? You've been working so hard, been such a good husband, so…”

You lean forward to kiss her on the mouth. Whispering against her lips, you say, “As your partner, it's my duty to make sure you're happy. Isn't that right?”

If she physically could at that moment, Arlecchino would melt underneath your words. 

—

Upon your arrival at Sumeru, you were glad you picked the outfits that you did. Travel with around twenty kids was difficult, but luckily the older kids, the twins and Freminet especially, helped a lot. Everyone was practically vibrating in excitement, with the exception of Arlecchino, though you knew it was mostly because of how inexpressive she usually was. 

Right? 

Currently, the two of you lay on the sand by the crystal clear waters, enjoying the sight of the children playing. The little ones are playing in the sand, presumably sculpting a castle, and the older ones are either engaging in a heated battle involving smacking a ball around or with Freminent in the ocean. Here, you forget that they’re a part of the Fatui, child soldiers for the Tsaritsa; here, they look like normal children and it makes your heart swell. 

Unfortunately, you're stuck in a dilemma–observe your children and take in their contagious laughter, or ogle your husband who is in the most delicious and mouth-watering attire possible. Underneath her short gray collarless jacket, was a cropped, sleeveless turtleneck that exposed her lower half of her toned stomach, including her v-line. Below are tight, black leggings which do little in hiding her muscular thighs. Everytime you look at her, a flush runs to your cheeks and you find yourself too flustered for your stare to linger because of the growing amount of indecent thoughts. You breathe deeply in an attempt to calm the raging storms of desire in your stomach, distracting yourself by observing the waves and digging your feet in the sand. For the sake of your children, you'd like for your mind to be as pure as possible. 

Blackened arms wrap around your waist, pulling you into a lap. You squeal at the sudden contact. Your husband's mouth hovers beside your ear, hot breath brushing against the shell of your ear. 

“Something interesting?” Arlecchino huskily whispers, making you shudder. One hand strokes over your stomach, invoking shivers from you. You inhale sharply before glancing at Arlecchino's face. 

“Just… watching the waves. It's calming,” you lie quickly, wondering if your racing heartbeat can be felt underneath her fingertips. 

“Your heart says otherwise,” she chuckles, turning your head over your shoulder so she can kiss you. 

After a few moments, you pull away from the kiss, and your eyes flick over to the children in the sand, still tossing around that ball over a net. “Why don't you join them? I'm sure they would love it if their Father joined their game.”

“My dear, I would destroy them,” Arlecchino bluntly remarks, and you chuckle. 

“Fair enough, I suppose.”

The two of you watch them in silence until Arlecchino breaks the silence. 

“I like what you picked for me.”

“Really?”

“Yes. Your reaction is adorable.” 

Something white-hot pricks the back of your neck. “I-I'm glad you like it. I like it too,” you stammer out, your abashment evident in your voice. 

“I can tell. Perhaps… you'd like to help me put on sun protection?” Arlecchino teases with a small smirk, removing her jacket off to reveal her lean biceps. “Over the pants, if that's alright.”

This handsome–sexy–woman is going to be the death of you, you’re sure of it. Your heart is going into overdrive, and you would be terrified of going into a stroke if you aren't more focused on your husband's physique. If it's not your heart that's going to kill you, it's the pending combustion inside of you. You squeeze your thighs against one another, pooling heat forming between your legs. 

“Y-yeah, sure,” you manage in between your laboring breathing, getting off of her lap to face her. Spreading the paste in your hand, you first venture over her neck, tenderly rubbing over her throat and then her nape, down to her sides. Her skin is hot to the touch, as expected of a Pyro user, but it somehow retains softness and flawlessness despite all the combat and harshness your husband deals with as a Fatui Harbinger. Still, unlike her composed facial features, you can feel that her pulse is as frenzied as yours–it gives you comfort that you’re not the only one feeling this. Your husband hums with contentment, watching you carefully. 

Next, you slide your hands over to her broad shoulders before feeling down her upper arm, deliberate attention to her biceps. A shuddering breath comes from you as she shifts, extending her arms more out towards you. You trace down the markings of her arm before caressing her inky elbow and forearms. Finally, you get to her wrists. An idea pops in your head as you bring her hands to your lips, kissing her knuckles and rings, giving special focus onto her engagement ring. An amused huff escapes from her, and you glance back at her. Her eyes gleam with such a rare fondness, reserved only for you. 

You glance down at the only part of her that's yet been touched, your stomach churning in itself when you're able to get a closer, longer look. You gulp considerably, your hands shaking slightly as they hover over it. 

A charcoal hand wraps around your wrist, gently guiding your palm to her until it's flushed against her skin. “Don't be shy now, love.” She smirks wickedly and you have the sense to kiss that smile off her face. 

“Shut up,” you murmur meekly, but place both hands on her stomach, your fingertips traversing over every dips created by her well-muscles stomach. It feels like your body will implode at any second now, as her body heat infects your fingers and spreads to the rest of your body. You coat her waist before your touch lingers lower, just above the waistband of her pants. You trace the indent of her v-line, your fingers nearly dip underneath her leggings. Before it can, she stops you, grasping both of your wrists with one hand as she leans in to whisper hotly near your ear.

“Let's save that for later, hm?” 

—

“Lyney, what are they doing?” One of the children inquires, as they point at Mother and Father still by the water. Father remains on top of Mother, seemingly applying sun protection, though Lyney isn't quite sure if their position is truly that… innocent. 

“Oh… Father is just helping Mother, like how I helped with the sun protection on your back,” Lyney quickly comes up with an explanation, looking away from them. 

The child remains silent, observing the older male's expression, before looking back at them once more. “Lyney, you said that when a mother and father love each other a lot, a new child comes right?” 

Lyney isn't sure if he was going to enjoy what comes next, though he has an inkling that he won't. “Yes…” 

“Does that mean Mother and Father will bring us a new sibling soon?”

Lyney sputters, looking to Lynette for assistance. 

—

After a nice day at the beach, Arlecchino takes you and the children to a local restaurant. Luckily, she was able to find one that was relatively empty, so there was no problem with fitting you and your twenty children inside. You find that the two of you rather enjoy Sumeru dishes; while you enjoy the variety of flavors, Arlecchino rather indulges in the spiciness of them. Your favorite is between the tandoori roast chicken and the lambad fish roll. Though, something bothers you during your time at the restaurant.

Arlecchino is an attractive woman; that much is undeniable, and you're well aware of the fact that she's pleasing to both men's and women's eyes. It is a common occurrence for her to attract the sights of those around her, for whatever the reason, though among the women, it is typically out of admiration. Here, this is the case as well, wandering eyes from other customers, and subtle flirting from the audacious waitress. 

After finishing your dinner, you excuse yourself to the bathroom, only to return to the two of them chatting up, although in reality it’s more like a one-sided conversation and Arlecchino is ignoring her– you're well aware of this, but you find the waitress’ presence pervasive. You approach your table quickly, kissing your husband on the cheek before glancing at the waitress.

“My husband and I would like to order dessert. Can you fetch us a menu, please?” You ask, disguising your ire with a practiced smile. Instantly, the waitress's flirtation dies and she walks away. 

You huff at the sight of the woman. “How could you, Arlecchino? After all we've been through? Talking so casually with her when I'm gone?” You jest with a gasp, faux jealousy in your tone once you notice the relieved sigh from her. Her claws release its hold on the tablecloth, leaving behind tattered sheets. 

“Oh, how I've been caught,” Arlecchino responds monotonously, playing along. “My affair with an unnamed, rather plain-featured woman has been discovered.” 

You giggle as her hand finds yours, interlocking with your fingers. “I'm in disbelief, betrayed by who I thought was my true love.”

“Oh hush now, love. Will Baklava buy your silence and heart again?” 

“Perhaps.” 

The House of the Hearth children gag as Mother and Father conciliate. 

—

“Mother, can't we stay up any longer? We're on vacation. Pleaseeeeee,” one of the children pleads as you usher them to bed, pulling the covers over them. 

“It's not healthy for you to stay up. Besides, you have plenty of time tomorrow and the rest of the two weeks to have fun. Your Father and I can't keep watch over you during the night,” you respond with, kissing them on the forehead. 

“What if Lyney or Lynette watches us?” 

“Lyney and Lynette are probably just as tired. When you wake up, we can go to the beach again, does that sound okay?” 

“Okay… good night Mother.”

You hum in delight, caressing their head. “Good night. Sweet dreams.” 

You silently walk towards the door. Arlecchino leans against the doorframe, observing you wordlessly–again, that unreadable expression appears over her, but this time it lingers. You shut the door as quietly as you can, before turning to your husband.

“Is there something you need, Arle?” You inquire. 

She shakes her head. You don't quite believe her, but you don't address it. “I'm going to go take a bath. Get all this sand off of me. Would you like to join me?” 

Arlecchino nods, and soon the two of you are in the bathroom. You let the faucet run, filling the bathtub with water as Arlecchino removes her clothing. It only takes a few moments before the two of you are seated in the bathtub, but it's a change of position this time. Arlecchino sits in between your legs, facing away from you.

“It's been a while since we've bathed like this, right?” You question softly, lightly carding your fingers through her untied hair. 

“It has been,” she merely replies, her voice almost far-away; like there’s something else on her mind. Even though you only face her back, you can tell from her lack of movement that she’s in deep contemplation.

“What are you thinking about, Arle?” Your husband bristles a bit at the question. Even after being married to you for a couple years, she's still unaccustomed to how you can read her so easily, especially when she prides herself in being incomprehensible to others, even her children. 

“Do you… not enjoy this?” You ask hesitantly with a lump in your throat. You know that she knows what you meant by ‘this’– the vacation; the entire notion of taking a break is foreign to Arlecchino, but you hope that she was able to find this beneficial. If she hates this and this vacation is supposed to be two weeks long… you don't want to say you'd be disappointed but you'd hope she'd at least be able to relax from her Harbinger duties. 

Arlecchino is silent for a few moments. “I admit… I am uneased by this, to be so vulnerable and open to assaults now that we're not in the House of the Hearth. I feel unproductive and restless without my usual work. However, at the same time, I can see how beneficial this is to the children, and it is a nice change for once to see them like this. Being able to spend time with you like this is also rather indulgent, but I cannot complain about it.” 

You smile, a weight lifted off your chest as you lean forward to press a kiss against her nape. “I’m glad. This was for you after all.”

“Although I am gratified that the children are able to experience this as well … I cannot see why you would put this much effort for me. After all, I am…” Arlecchino pauses, raising her blackened hands to her view. She doesn’t finish her sentence, but you're able to get a sense of what she’s trying to say, and another weight is placed heavy on your heart. For as confident and assured that Arlecchino likes to present herself, when it is just the two of you, she reveals a rawer, more unguarded side to her. Often, she confides in you how she grapples with why you can so fondly view her, and every time, your heart sinks. How could your husband think this way? 

Laying your chin over her shoulder, you gingerly place both of your hands underneath hers, stroking the inside of her palm with your thumb. “I know where your thoughts are leading to, Arlecchino, and they're wrong. I love you, Arlecchino. You deserve this. You deserve this treatment, you deserve a break, you deserve to be loved. Your curse, your past… it doesn't matter. These hands…” 

You continue caressing her hand with your fingers. “...They are not cursed. These hands are not unloveable. These are the same hands that protect and care for our children. The same hands that hold me. The same hands that please me. They are a part of you, and they aren't evidence that you are a monster. If you are, you wouldn't have me, and you wouldn't have the children.” 

You kiss down along her bare back, gaining shivers from the woman. “Enjoy this, my love, for me at the very least. You are my husband, so let me do my part in loving you. You've done an innumerable amount of things for me and the children, so consider this to be our repayment for you.” 

“That is why I am doing this for you, do you understand?” You whisper against her skin. 

Arlecchino nods, a shaky breath escaping from her. You finish your treatment around her shoulderblades and gesture for her to turn around. When she does, the first thing that you do is kiss her hands, peppering them with as much devotion as you can give them. To you, nothing is more beautiful. 

“You deserve everything and more. Don't forget that, Arlecchino. So let me do this for you.” It isn't an ask. It is a demand from the one person whose authority is higher than the Tsaritsa: you. 

Arlecchino closes her eyes, and lets herself melt into you. 

[sunshine-and-moonshine]

Thick!Fem!Survivor in a Bikini

Requested: Yes! [love your works. never stop doing those please.. also just see your request are open so.. i want to request for ghostface, the legion (frank and julie), wesker, the trapper and the doctor react to their fav fem!survivor in like a bikini outfits (also if you could make her have a big boobs or maybe like some sort of chubby body then i would love it even more :))]

Warnings: ✨Spice✨, FEM!Reader

A/N:

Ghostface

Pictures. So so many pictures, each one more perfect than the last in his eyes. And there was never enough, no matter the fact that he had so many that his card read as full. Good thing he had a spare on him! This one empty of any photos, though soon to be full as well. He’ll waste away the whole trial following you around, his hands running along the thick curves of your body whenever he can get close enough without you noticing him. But even if you did notice him, it’s not much of a deterrent. Did you really think you could show up in front of him while wearing that and just get away?

Frank

Drooling. Drooling SO much. He’s staring the second he sees you, immediately reaching out to grasp your thick waist in his bandaged hands as he presses his chest into your back, his mask on the ground as he bites and sucks on the back of your neck, grinding into your plush ass through his jeans. Frank is such a sucker for big girls, it makes him look stupid and by the end of this trial you will be sitting on his face, your thick thighs smothering him to death. Legit doesn’t even care if you actually kill him while doing it, since he’ll just be resurrected by the entity anyways. He hopes.

Julie

Much like Frank, Julie is drooling, wanting to bury her face between your thighs and just suffocate. But Julie is just a tad bit more subtle than Frank. She’s not just outright groping, she’s fingers trailing softly down your spine, plucking at the strings of your bikini. She’s not deep bites and bleeding scratches, she’s a whisper in your ear, carrying the most sinful promises. She and Frank are two people that compliment and contrast each other perfectly in almost every way. Brawn and Brain, Force and Manipulation, Fast and Slow. She’s likely to invite you to share both her and Frank’s bed, once she’s done making you ride her fingers in this trial.

Wesker

Wesker is definitely surprised to see you in such an outfit at first, staring you down from a distance, slowly getting closer to you, taking in the shape of your body from every angle he can see, and once he gets close enough? He can’t help but let ouroboros wander over your skin, slipping under your scant clothing, between your thighs. Even when you’re crying and shaking from everything he’s doing to you. How could you ever expect him to resist when you just looked so good like that? Like a present just for him.

Trapper

N I C E. You can’t look at Trapper and tell me he doesn’t like thick girls. He fucking LOVES thick girls, remembers how he used to trail after daughters of the miners with chests so thick they almost popped out of their modest gowns, hips so thick that they showed through all the layers they wore. Part of him enjoyed indulging in thoughts of how it was money that his family gave their fathers that kept their bellies so full, kept them as thick as they were, their healthy pallor. He’s reminded of those thoughts as he looks at you. Granted, you’re not so modestly dressed as them but he actually likes it, likes the way they scant fabric clings to your skin. But what’s even better is when he rips it off you, clutching you to him even as you squirm, feeling along your curves, between your folds, cupping your full breasts. Yes, he really enjoyed this.

Doctor

Very bold of you to assume that the Doctor didn’t carefully plan this all out, to the very last detail. Down to convincing the Entity that yes, the bikini was necessary, and that no, he definitely didn’t have anything particularly heinous on his mind. Not that she believed that at all, but he had been doing particularly well in trials and she thought he deserves to be rewarded. Which is how you ended up Adrianna Imai’s bed (she was going to KILL you in all your future trials with her), The Doctor’s hands emitting little pain-pleasure sparks as they roamed your skin, snapping at the strings of your bikini while emitting his usual maniacal giggles.

[childrenofcain-if]

How would the ROs react if they got a drunk call/voicemail/texts from the MC in crushing stage?

C LACROIX

C knew they shouldn’t answer. the phone buzzed on the nightstand, its vibrations jittery against the glass, and the name on the screen made their pulse quicken in a way they hated to admit. it was late at night—too late for this. but still, they stared at the screen as if it might explode, as if ignoring it would only make the inevitable worse. and then the buzzing stopped.

for a moment, C breathed, letting the silence reassert itself. they should go to sleep. forget this ever happened. but then the phone chimed again—a voicemail. of course. they stared at the notification, and something tightened in their chest, like a hand slowly squeezing their heart.

they sat on the edge of the bed, phone heavy in their hand. a part of them—a smarter, more prideful part—told them to delete the message without listening. but curiosity won out, and so they pressed play.

at first, all they could hear was the distant thrum of noise, the muffled bassline of whatever frat party you had found yourself at this weekend. then, your voice, slurred and half-laughing, cut through the static, sending a jolt of adrenaline through their veins.

“C...,” you said, drawing out their name like it was a secret only you shared. “you know, you’re so... ugh, you’re so annoying sometimes. but also so fucking perfect.”

their breath caught. the words were clumsy, tangled up in intoxication, but they hit them like a punch to the gut. they could hear you moving, probably stumbling somewhere quiet to make this call—god, what were you even thinking? were you even safe wherever you were?

“i bet you’re at your room, all serious and brooding and studying for an upcoming test or something,” you continued, a teasing lilt creeping into your tone. “and here i am. the funny thing is, i’m the best thing in this party, but you’re not even here to give me a run for my money. i—i guess i just wanted to say... i don’t know, it’s stupid. but you’re... you’re always in my head, C.”

a slow, terrible heat crawled up C’s neck. they clenched their jaw, resisting the urge to throw the phone across the room, to shatter it and end this cruel charade. but they couldn’t stop listening, couldn’t tear themselves away from the wreckage of your voice, drunken and raw.

“i think about you, you know?” your voice cracked, like you were on the verge of something—tears, maybe, or laughter. “all the time. and it’s so... god, it’s stupid, isn’t it?”

C’s grip tightened on the phone. they wanted to yell at you, to tell you to shut up, to stop saying these things that would haunt them, that would make it impossible to face you in the light of day. but the voicemail had its own momentum, dragging them down with it.

“i just—” you sighed, and the sound was so fragile, so unbearably tender, it gave C’s chest a terrible ache. “i just wish... no, it doesn’t matter. forget i called, okay? just... forget it.”

the message ended with a soft click, and then the silence was back, pressing in on them from all sides. C stared at the phone, at the screen that had gone dark, and felt something in them break.

they could delete the message. pretend it never happened. but they knew they wouldn’t. the words were already burned into their memory, seared into their thoughts like a hot iron brand. you, drunk and foolish, had let slip something they had long suspected but never dared to hope for.

but what were they supposed to do with that? how were they supposed to look at you now, knowing that somewhere beneath your teasing and rivalry, you harbored something more? something that could ruin everything that C had been working towards.

they set the phone down, their hands shaking slightly. they couldn’t do this. not tonight. not ever, maybe. but the voicemail was there, waiting for them, a reminder that they couldn’t unhear, couldn’t forget.

C lays back down, staring at the ceiling, but sleep wouldn’t come. only the echo of your voice, looping over and over in their mind—a taunt, a plea, a confession.

tomorrow, they would have to face you, as if nothing had changed. but tonight, in the dark, C let themself wonder what it would be like if things were different. if they weren’t so afraid of wanting what they shouldn’t have. if they weren’t so afraid of wanting you.

V NÆSHOLM

V stared at their phone, the soft glow of the screen the only light in the dim room. it was past midnight, and the world outside was still, save for the occasional rustle of leaves in the wind. they had been half-asleep, drifting in that hazy space between dreams and wakefulness, when the phone buzzed on the nightstand, pulling them back to consciousness.

they frowned at the name on the screen—yours. a voicemail. the edges of their vision blurred with fatigue, but they blinked it away, curiosity winning out over sleep. it wasn’t like you to call this late when you were out of your shared suite, especially not without reason.

V hesitated, thumb hovering over the play button. something in their chest twisted—a familiar, unwelcome sensation that had become all too frequent whenever you were involved. but there was a weight to this moment, a sense that once they pressed play, there would be no going back.

with a resigned breath, they tapped the screen, bringing the phone to their ear.

at first, there was nothing but static, a low hum of background noise that made V wonder if you had butt-dialed them by accident. but then, your voice came through, breathless and uneven, like you’d been running—or like you were trying to hold something back.

“vinny,” you slurred, the sound of their nickname on your lips sending a shiver down their spine. “i don’t... i don’t know why i’m calling. okay, maybe i do, but it’s stupid either way.”

V’s heart skipped a beat. they could tell you were drunk—drunker than they’d ever heard you before. it was unsettling, hearing you like this, your usual composure unraveling, leaving only raw edges and half-formed thoughts.

“i just—” you broke off, and they could hear you fumbling with something, maybe your keys or your coat, before you let out a soft, frustrated sigh. “you’re so... damn it, vinny, why do you have to be so... so good?”

good. the word hung in the air between them, more accusation than compliment. V swallowed, their throat dry, as they tried to make sense of what you were saying—or what you weren’t saying.

“you know, i... i think about you,” you admitted, and there was a crack in your voice, something fragile and uncertain. “more than i should. more than is... normal, i think. i wonder what your god would say if he could hear my thoughts.”

a flood of warmth spread through V’s chest, tinged with something sharper—fear, maybe, or anticipation. they should stop listening. delete the message, pretend it never happened. but your voice held them captive, every word a stone dropped into the still water of their mind, sending ripples they couldn’t control.

“i don’t even know why i’m telling you this,” you continued, a bitter laugh catching in your throat. “you’re probably in your room, doing something important, not thinking about me at all. jesus, i’m so stupid.”

you were rambling now, your words slurring together in a way that made V’s heart ache. they hated hearing you like this—open, exposed, laying bare feelings that neither of you were ready to confront yet. not like this.

“i just... i just needed to say it, okay? even if you don’t... even if you don’t feel the same. i just needed you to know.”

the message ended with a click, and the silence that followed was suffocating. V lowered the phone, their hand trembling slightly as they stared at the screen, the words ‘voicemail ended’ burning into their retinas.

you thought about them. more than was normal. the confession echoed in their mind, turning over and over until it became something almost unbearable. they should feel relieved, even happy. but all they felt was a gnawing paranoia, a tightening in their chest that made it hard to breathe.

they couldn’t call you back—not now, not when you were in that state. but they couldn’t just ignore what you had said, either. the words were out there now, hanging in the air like a storm cloud, ready to burst at any moment.

V lays back on the bed, staring up at the ceiling, their thoughts spiraling. they should pray—turn to christ in this moment of confusion, seek solace in the familiar comfort of their faith. but even as they reached for the small cross they always wore, they hesitated.

because what did it mean, that you had called them? that you had chosen to share this with them, in the darkest hour of the night, when all the world was asleep? what did it mean for them—V, who had tried so hard to keep their feelings buried, to pretend that you were nothing more than a friend, a suitemate, a fleeting thought in the back of their mind?

they pressed the cross to their lips, closing their eyes, but the prayer they sought wouldn’t come. all they could think about was you, your voice, your words, the way you had sounded so lost, so certain and yet so confused.

and V was left there, clutching at faith, as the weight of your confession settled over them like a shroud, heavy and too inescapable.

W OSTENDORF

W’s phone buzzed against the wooden nightstand, a low hum that pierced through the quiet of his dorm room. they weren’t used to the sound this late, their evenings typically slipping into a routine of studying, watching film theories and sleep, with little disruption. when they saw your name light up the screen, their heart stuttered, a flicker of both excitement and dread washing over them.

they tapped the screen, lifting the phone to their ear as they stared into the dim light of the room. your voice came through, breathless and uncertain, slurred just enough to reveal the state you were in.

“elmo… i don’t know why i’m doing this,” you murmured, and W sat up a little straighter, the anxiousness ebbing away.

they could picture you—probably in your room, pacing, or maybe curled up on your bed, staring at the ceiling. you’d been drinking, that much was obvious, but there was something else in your tone, something raw and exposed that made W’s heart clench.

“i’ve been thinking,” you continued, your voice dipping into something softer, more hesitant. “about us. about you. and i just… i don’t know. i thought maybe i should tell you.”

W’s breath caught. they leaned back against their chair, the cool wood pressing into their spine as they listened. they had never heard you like this—so unguarded, so vulnerable. it was like you were stripping yourself bare, piece by piece, leaving nothing but for them to stare in awe at you.

“i don’t know if this is going to mess things up. mess almost two decades worth of friendship,” you said, your words starting to tangle, like you were fighting to keep them straight. “but i think about you a lot, elmo. more than i should. more than just my best friend.”

a wave of warmth spread through W’s chest, followed by a sharp twist of anxiety. they wanted to say something, to reach through the phone and tell you that it was okay, that they felt the same way—that they’ve felt the same for almost as long as they’d known you. but the words were stuck in their throat, trapped by a thousand what-ifs and maybes.

“i don’t even know why i’m telling you this,” you added with a bitter laugh. “you’re probably sitting there, rolling your eyes, thinking how ridiculous i sound.”

W shook their head, even though you couldn’t see it.

“no,” they whispered, the word slipping out before they could stop it. they weren’t thinking that at all. they were thinking about how they had been waiting for this—for you to break the silence between you, to say the words they hadn’t dared to speak themselves for ages.

“i just… i needed you to know,” you finished, your voice trailing off into a silence that felt heavier than anything W had ever known.

the voicemail ended, and W was left holding the phone, the screen dark and empty now. they stared at it, as if willing it to light up again, to bring your voice back into the quiet of their room. but it stayed still, lifeless, and the weight of what you’d said settled over them like a suffocating cloud.

they wanted to go to your room, to see you, to tell you that you weren’t ridiculous, that they understood, that they’d been feeling the same way. but they stayed where they were, frozen in place by the magnitude of what you had just admitted.

instead, their fingers drummed an unsteady rhythm on the desk as they turned the words over in their mind. they should focus on the film they were watching, they thought, but their sapphire blue eyes had already glazed over. all they could do was think of you, your voice, the way you had sounded so lost, so sure and unsure at the same time.

they weren’t sure if they had just saved something or lost everything, but one thing was certain: they couldn’t pretend anymore. not after tonight.

D DIACONU

D knew the exact moment their phone buzzed with your name flashing across the screen that something had shifted between you two. they’d been sprawled out on their bed, a half-empty glass of something strong and amber being nursed beside them, the dim glow of their room casting long shadows across the walls. it was late, late enough that no one should be calling unless they had something to say, and so when they saw your name flickered across the screen, D’s lips curled into a lazy smile.

they didn’t hesitate before picking the call up, not quite sure what they were expecting, but your voice—a little slurred, a little too honest—cut through the quiet like a knife.

“rook,” you breathed out, their nickname almost a sigh, and something in the way you said it made them sit up a little straighter. “i don’t… i don’t know why i’m calling, i just… i was thinking about you.”

they could hear the hesitation in your words, the way they tumbled out like you were trying to catch them before they could escape. D was silent, letting you speak, because they knew better than to interrupt—knew how fragile these moments were, how easily they could break if not handled with care.

“i’ve been drinking,” you admitted, as if it wasn’t obvious. “and i don’t… i don’t think i should be telling you this, but i can’t stop thinking about you. it’s like, no matter what i do, you’re just… there.”

they could picture you in their mind’s eye, flushed and a little unsteady, trying to piece together the words you’d been holding back. and then you said it, the words that broke through their carefully constructed walls. “i think… i think i like you more than i should.”

D didn’t respond immediately. they didn’t know how to. they weren’t used to hearing things like this from you—weren’t used to feeling anything but the usual amusement and pleasure that your unusual ‘friendship’ brought them. but this was different. you were different tonight, leaving D with a mess of emotions they weren’t prepared for.

“what are you doing, dragă?” they finally asked, the endearment slipping out before they could stop it. “you’re drunk.”

but even as they said it, D knew it was more than that. alcohol might have loosened your tongue, but there was truth in your words, and that was what unsettled them the most. they’d always been the one in control, the one who kept things light and fun, but now the tables had turned, and they weren’t sure how to handle it.

“i know,” you mumbled, your voice thick with regret. “i’m sorry, i just… i couldn’t keep it to myself anymore.”

D could hear the frustration in your voice, the way you were struggling to make sense of what you were feeling. and in that moment, they hated how vulnerable you sounded, how exposed you were. you were supposed to be the strong one, the one who kept it together. not this.

but instead of brushing it off, instead of making a joke like they usually would, D found themselves gripping the phone tighter, their usual nonchalance slipping away.

“you’re not making a fool of yourself,” they said, their voice softer than it had any right to be. “it’s okay.”

there was a pause, and for a moment, D thought maybe you’d fallen asleep, the alcohol finally pulling you under. but then you spoke again, your voice barely a whisper, and it sent a shiver down their spine.

“i wish i could hate you,” you said, the words almost lost in the static of the call, but D heard them, and they felt like a punch to the gut. “it would be so much easier if i could just… hate you.”

D swallowed hard, the usual playful confidence that defined them nowhere to be found. “get some sleep, dragă. we’ll talk in the morning, okay?”

you didn’t respond, but D could hear your soft breathing on the other end of the line, a reminder of just how close they’d come to something they weren’t sure they were ready for.

with a sigh, D set their phone down on the bed and drained the rest of their drink, the burn in their throat a welcome distraction from the mess you’d just left behind in their mind. they didn’t know what the hell to do with these feelings, didn’t even know if they wanted to, but one thing was clear—they weren’t going to be able to sleep tonight, not with your voice still echoing in their head, not with the knowledge that you were out there, feeling something for them they weren’t sure they could fully return.

M WHITLOCK-SINGH

M had been alone in their dorm room, the only company the muted glow of their desk lamp and the low tones of an old jazz track drifting through the air. the night was almost completely quiet and they were lost in the slow, methodical process of reviewing notes for their global affairs exam, when their phone buzzed with a notification for a voicemail. the name that flashed on the screen made them pause, their fingers hovering over their laptop.

the slur in your voice was unmistakable even before they opened the voicemail. “hey max, i don’t know if you’re awake, but i just—”

M felt a pang of something unsettling. it wasn’t pity, but it was close. they could hear the undercurrent of vulnerability in your voice, the way the alcohol seemed to dissolve the barriers between you.

“—thought about you,” you continued, and M could hear the struggle in your tone, like you were grappling with the honesty that the drink had loosened. “it’s stupid, but i keep thinking about how... how you make everything... better.”

M’s fingers brushed the screen as if it was the map of your face. there was a part of them that wanted to smile, to find amusement in your clumsy declarations, but another part—a quieter, more serious part—was deeply affected. this wasn’t some casual confession. this was raw, unfiltered, and it unsettled them in a way they hadn’t expected.

they knew that tomorrow you would wake up, perhaps embarrassed or regretful, and that this call would become a hazy memory. but tonight, it was real, and it was a window into a side of you that you rarely showed. they could almost picture you, stumbling over your words, the warmth of the drink still lingering on your lips as you reached out to them in this stumbling state.

M sat back in their chair. they weren’t sure how to respond, how to offer comfort without seeming insincere. they weren’t very good with these kinds of emotions, the messy, complicated ones that came with late-night confessions and drunken bravado.

they tapped out a quick text, their fingers moving with a practiced efficiency: hey. got your message. i’m here if you need to talk. no judgment.

they paused before sending it, the gravity of the situation making them hesitate. they weren’t just acknowledging your voicemail; they were opening a door to something more intimate, something that required them to be more than just a passive listener. finally, they hit send, the message disappearing into the void of digital webs.

M leaned back, staring at the ceiling, the jazz tunes still playing softly in the background. they knew that your feelings were tangled in the alcohol, but a part of them couldn’t ignore the genuineness in your voice. it was a side of you that they wanted to understand better, even if it was shrouded in the haze of drunken stupors.

M closed their eyes, but drowsiness seemed to have become a distant thing, lost in the haze of your confession. they didn’t know what to do, didn’t know how to respond, but one thing was clear—they couldn’t ignore this. not anymore. not when you had laid it all out so bare, leaving them to pick up the pieces.

[shepherds-of-haven]

please i need to know--how would the shepherds fare in a bakery AU?

Hmm, interesting question!

Blade: don't hire him. he would drive the customers away with his very presence. just imagine some dour black-clothed man looming in your charming bakery amidst the smells of custard buns like

truly disgusting stuff

Trouble: I think this would be manageable at first, but not ideal! he's really game to try any line of work for as long as it can hold his interest, and baking could appeal to him if you pointed out its scientific/chemical qualities! Aesthetically his cakes and desserts would look like this

...but his bread would be the absolute bomb! and he'd have such a friendly and casual attitude when you walked in that I feel like people around the neighborhood would fall in love with him lol. imagine him working a wood-fire oven!

Tallys: she would be an efficient worker who made delicious pastries with homegrown or foraged ingredients--very Great British Bakeoff in essence, where they're always talking about making their own pestos or growing their own tomatoes for things or whatever--but her personality is cool and courteous enough that people would feel slightly intimidated by her, like you can't just go to her and ask for your a Shrek cake for your son's 5th birthday party, she's an artisan and you have to treat her as such! (even if she never says so explicitly herself)

Shery: this is my dream for her. She's thriving, she has her own cozy bakery with all of the pastel sweets and cute little character macarons you could ever ask for, she constantly smells of sugar and vanilla and smiles warmly when you walk inside! she is the most successful in this AU of them all and eventually goes on to go viral once people discover her quaint little bakeshop!

Riel: he's an angel investor. he gave shery seed money to pursue her dream of being a baker. she parcels him up treats and petit fours and cookies and sends them to his house once a week, or he'll stop in on his way home from work (or send his butler to go get it when he gets a craving). but in no universe are you getting him to work in a bakery, lol. and nor would you want to! the man has no instinct for cooking or baking. all of his food ends up looking like this

the best you'll get out of him is that he makes every display in the bakery extremely, painfully symmetrical...

Chase: you're probably better off hiring him as, like, the greeter or sign spinner or flyer-distributor to get people into the bakery. like, he'd be great at charming customers into your store, but I highly doubt you'd want to trust him to do anything else in the bakery. he doesn't have the patience to be cooped up behind the register all day. he'd get distracted by all the fun ingredients in the kitchen if you tried to get him to follow a recipe and bake some cakes. heck, he'd probably be distracted thirty minutes into the whole venture and would just wander out of the shop, never to return! he might accidentally turn out something tasty now and then, but it's not enough to justify having him in your bakery lol

Red: i feel like he could have helped out in a family's friend bakery for a summer as, like, a favor and a seasonal high school job, lol. would he have enjoyed it? probably not, he'd rather be doing other things, but he'd be competent and attentive enough to keep things running at a decent clip! he'd be great at running the register and service end of things, or doing the numbers or deliveries, but only so-so at the baking/kitchen end of things. he'd make great coffee!

Ayla: she'd be fairly decent at this! I think if you put her in the kitchen and gave her detailed instructions on what to do, she'd resist it at first--scowl, scowl, this is dumb, this is boring, why am I cooped up back here like a slave??--but once she got into the rhythm of things, I could see Ayla enjoying slinging dough and cranking out simple things like cookies, biscuits, and bread. No finicky decorating or delicate stuff like frosting cakes--that's how you get cakes being smashed in fits of temper--but "one-and-done" products would be great for her!

Briony: she's brilliant behind the register, cheerily calling out greetings and wrapping up your pastries in their nice little boxes while making chitchat with you. she'd be a sunny presence that made everyone feel happy and welcome in the bakery. she might be able to help out in the kitchen as an assistant now and again, but it's probably not worth the trouble... she's just as likely to trip and knock over an entire shelf of flour, or accidentally squash a cake under her elbow when going to lean on a table, that it's probably just safer to keep her out of the kitchen altogether...

Lavinet: naur... maybe if you want her to be your hot cashieress, but even in an AU, I feel like there are a lot of jobs she'd take over working in a bakery or any kind of food service! flour? in her hair? i don't think so, darling! while she enjoys food and sweets, she has absolutely zero interest in how it's made or selling it, so this would not be a good fit for her at all!

Halek: baking isn't his passion, but he's obviously second-best at this bakery thing after Shery! I think he'd be one of those weird, elusive, sort of temperamental artist-bakers, the ones who are only open from like 4 AM-9 AM, you have to line up outside and stand on the sidewalk for like 20 minutes before you're allowed to buy up to 3 bagels because he only makes exactly 200 every two days, but once you finally get the damn thing, it's the best bagel you've ever had in your life! oh and he only offers plain and veggie cream cheese or an egg and sausage sandwich, no other options!

[zxxccx]

Fumigation Part 2

This is a work of fiction. All characters are 18+. Contains male fart fetish content.

I was jolted awake by the smell of rotten eggs assaulting my nose. My friend was squatting over me laughing. It's times like these that made me think getting an apartment together after college was a mistake. Yes splitting rent made things more affordable, but at what cost? I couldn't even take a nap on the couch without putting myself at risk of falling victim to his gassy ass. He knew I hated his gas, but he farted on me anyway. He knew anytime I smelled his farts it brought me back to the traumatic prank he played on me, but that only seemed to make him want to fart on me more.

After school ended, he went into the fumigation business full-time. He was apparently so good at it that the owner of the company he had been working at part-time during college offered him a full-time position as soon as classes ended and before we even officially graduated. Of course he gladly accepted. I, on the other hand, went the more traditional route of going through a painful job search before finally getting an offer for a job tangentially related to my major. The work was mostly menial, but it was remote and the pay was decent so I really couldn't complain. It was nice to have to house to myself for most of the day and be free from my friend's gas.

Working remotely was nice, because it allowed me to flex my schedule and take breaks/naps as needed, which is exactly what I was trying to do before my friend so rudely awoke me. Apparently he forgot his lunch so he stopped home to grab it between job sites. He saw me napping on the couch and couldn't resist. I groaned.

Me: “Don't you need to save your gas for work?”

Him: “Nah, I have plenty to go around - more than enough for work and to blast you whenever I want.”

Me: “Why do you do this to me? You know I hate it.”

Him: “You just answered your own question.

Me: “You do it because I hate it?”

Him: “Duh. It wouldn't be as fun if you didn't.”

He laughed. I didn't think it was funny.

Him: “Anyway, I better head out and get back to work. The termites aren't going to exterminate themselves and I can't afford to slack off now. The company retreat is coming up and rumor has it that I'm a shoo-in for the employee of the year award.”

Me: “Employee of the year, really? Don't you just fart into an A/C and have it blow your gas around? How do they even decide who does that the best?”

Him: “You underestimate me. I haven't had to use an A/C on a job site for ages now. All my training and diet changes have really increased my gut strength and helped ensure maximum fart output. I'm one of the few employees that can gas out an entire house just by letting rip into the vents - no A/C or other assistance needed.”

Me: “BS! Your gas may be powerful, but no one can fully gas out an entire house by themselves. You have to be using a fan or something to help spread your gas around. It would take too long otherwise and you'd lose business.”

Him: “Is that so? Why don't you take the afternoon off and come with me to the next job site and see for yourself?”

Me: “Nice try. I'm never going near another one of your job sites, not after what happened last time.”

Him: “I'm serious! Why not put your money where your month is? I could make it worth your while.”

Me: “What do you have in mind?”

Him: “We make it a bet. If I can gas out the entire house with no assistance or aides like I said, then I win. If not, then you win. You can be there to observe and make sure I don't cheat.”

Me: “What do I get if I win?”

Him: “I give in and won't fart around you anymore.”

Me: “For how long?”

Him: “Forever.”

Me: “And what do you get if you win?”

Him: “You have to shove your face in my ass and inhale my farts directly from the source for 10 minutes.”

Me: “Dude that's brutal. That would absolutely suck!”

Him: “Obviously. You're not supposed to get off easy if you lose.”

Me: “……so you would really never fart around me again if I win.”

Him: “I'm a man of my word. I've never welched on a bet before.”

Me: “How big is the house you have to fumigate?”

Him: “Pretty big……”

Me: “………ok, you're on!”

And with that, off to the job site we went.

…

When we got there my friend started to get set up. He was right about the size of the house. I noticed that instead of the harness he had last time that filtered his gas into the A/C using a hose, he had a new harness that hooked right into the air intake vent that would allow him to create an airtight seal between the vent and his ass. This got me a little worried, but I was still confident that I would win. There's no way a single person could fill an entire house with gas, especially one this big. He finished getting his harness set up and said there was one thing left to do before starting the fumigation. Before I could ask what it was, he picked up his tool bag with one hand and hoisted me over his shoulder with the other. I protested and asked what he was doing, but he didn't answer. Instead he carried me right into the house. I tried to wriggle out of his grip, but he was stronger than me and was able to prevent me from getting away. At this point I knew exactly what he was planning and I was pretty pissed. He put me down at the bottom of a staircase and, before I could even react, he pulled out a pair of handcuffs from his tool bag, handcuffed me to the railing, and the stared down at my grinning.

Him: “Walked right into that one didn't you?”

Me: “Come on man, you can't do this to me again. It's not funny!”

Him: “It's freakin hilarious!”

Me: “This wasn't part of the bet!”

Him: “I mean we did agree you would observe, we just never specified where you would be observing from. How are we gonna know if the house is fully gassed out without having some sort of judge? It's the only way to keep the bet fair.”

Me: “Seriously. I'm not kidding. You need to let me go!”

Him: “I'm not kidding either. This is gonna happen and you're not in any position to argue otherwise. Now we need to do something about that mouth of yours. You're really starting to annoy me.”

I tried to argue more, but he pulled out a roll of duct tape. He also produced a little pill seemingly out of nowhere. He shoved the pill in my mouth and then wrapped the lower half of my face with duct tape. I yelled at him as loud as I could, even though it was now muffled, and started kicking him. He responded by taping my legs together. I was now fully immobilized. I couldn't believe I was in this position again.

Him: “In case you were wondering, the pill is a stimulant. It'll prevent you from passing out. Figure you'll enjoy this more if you don't miss half of it. I also have one more surprise to make things even more fun for you. I was thinking, what could be worse than being subjected to my gas again like this? Then it hit me, what if I forced you to get off to my farts. That would really suck, wouldn't it?”

He grinned again and pulled something else out of his tool bag. Then he showed me what it was: a vibrator. He grabbed my dick through through my shorts and duct taped the vibrator to it. I was so shocked by all this that I gave up on fighting and just looked back at him with pleading eyes. He laughed and turned on the vibrator. A jolt of pleasure went though my body and I moaned.

Him: “There we go. That shouldn't be enough to fully get you off, but it'll definitely keep you aroused the entire time. Not exactly the state you want to be in when you're huffing farts, but it's not like you have a choice. Who knows, maybe this will make you fall in love with my gas. Only one way to find out I guess. Time to get this show on the road. You may not enjoy this, but I know I will!”

He walked away laughing, leaving me there dreading what was to come. After a few minutes, the loudest fart I've ever heard came through the vents. Unlike last time, I didn't have the A/C kicking on as warning that he was about to start, so the sound of the fart made me jump (as much as I could in my position). Then there was another fart that was even louder and longer…and another. They just kept on coming. It wasn't until the smell hit me that it fully dawned on me that this was happening again. It was even worse than I remember it being. It seemed almost inhuman for a person to have gas this intense.

Maybe the stench was getting to my head or maybe it was the horniness from the vibrator, but it almost seemed like his gas was so powerful that it was causing the walls to shake. Having learned from last time, I closed my eyes before the stinging started. His gas seemed to smell worse and worse with each breath. My dick started to leak precum and I felt disgusted with myself. I shouldn't be able to stay horny in an environment like this. Yet here I was. I felt so stupid for letting him put me in this situation again. The sudden realization that I was gonna lose the bet made me feel even worse. The stimulant did its job and prevented me from passing out. With nothing else to do, mind went numb and I just sat there choking on his gas with my dick leaking like a faucet…for 2 hours.

…

After it was all over and my friend let me go, we drove home in silence. He tried to laugh it off and brag about winning the bet, but I didn't even respond. I wanted nothing to do with him right now and decided to give him the silent treatment. Like last time, the stench of his gas was imprinted on my sense of smell for weeks and it took even longer for me to be able to go out in public without people gagging when they walked near me (no matter how much I showered). I was finally able to ditch the smell and I did go back to talking to my friend, but I was still really pissed at him. The least he could have done was apologize and admit he took things too far, but that never happened. I was pleasantly surprised that he at least didn't bring up the fact that I lost the bet.

I almost thought he had forgotten about it completely until Labor Day weekend. It was Friday evening, and one of our mutual friends was throwing a party to celebrate the long weekend. I was chilling on the couch when he got home. We chatted for a bit and he explained that he just finished fumigating an entire office building. He was really proud of himself because this was the first time he had tackled a building that large without the help of the A/C. I gave him a half-hearted congrats. He said he was feeling so good, that he thought now was the perfect time to collect on our bet as a reward. I told him that he got enough from me when he fumigated me against my will for the second time. He was insistent though and said if I didn't honor my part of the bet, he would tell everyone at the party tonight that I was a welcher. He also said that he would tell them about my second fumigation experience and how I got off to his gas. I knew that wasn't fair, but I definitely didn't need my other friends to find out about that humiliating ordeal so I relented. After all, it would only be for 10 minutes.

Right when I was about to get into position, he said he needed to get something first. He came back with a weird looking harness. He must have sensed my confusion because he explained that he intended to harness me in place to ensure that I didn't back out. I told him there's no way that was happening so he said that we should probably head to the party then so he could reveal all to our friends. Feeling like I had no other choice, I begrudgingly agreed. He pulled out a roll of duct tape and said he was going to gag me. Tired of arguing at this point, I let him do it in hopes that we could get this over with faster. Then he handed me a pair of kneepads saying they would make me more comfortable. Without further ado, I got into position behind him. He was wearing tight jeans and he slowly rolled the back of them down, revealing that he was wearing equally tight boxer briefs that really hugged his ass and highlighted the crevice of his crack. I barely had time to take it all in before he grabbed me and shoved my nose directly into that crevice. He tightened the harness around my head and started the ten minute timer.

His ass stunk worse than I expected. That’s when it occurred to me that he hadn't showered or changed his clothes since he got home from work. Then the farts started. Each one was massive and literally rattled my skull. And the stench was unreal. I had survived two fumigations and been farted on many times by him before, but nothing compared to smelling his gas straight from the source. This was a whole other level. My eyes flooded with tears and I thought my nose was gonna fall off. When the timer finally went off, it felt like it had been ten years instead of ten minutes. I waited for him to let me go, but instead he said that it was time to head to the party and walked towards the door. I started freaking out and slapping his hips with my hands, but he kept going.

Next thing I knew we were outside. I couldn't believe this was happening. My friend was actually walking down the street with me harnessed to his ass. Anytime people walked by us, they would laugh and make jokes at my expense. I tried as hard as I could to pull out of the harness, but it was no use. Even though the sun had set, it was still pretty warm out so it wasn't long before my friend’s ass started to sweat. Feeling his ass sweat on my face was gross - the constant farting made it even worse. After a half hour, we finally made it to the party. Everyone there burst out laughing as soon as we walked in. My friend lied and said that I had a thing for his ass and begged him to do this for me. People kept on coming up to him and asking him to fart to which he gladly obliged. The host even gave him leftover Taco Bell from the fridge, which only made things worse for me. At one point, people asked if they could take pictures and videos of us. My friend said no to my relief, but then followed that up with “not unless you make sure my face isn't visible and tag him in whatever you post online.” I screamed into his ass. This was hell. My life as I knew it was over.

After hours of absolute torture, which included my friend drunkenly dancing with my face in his ass, the party died down. My friend said his goodbyes and then walked home (with me still strapped to his ass, of course). I had given up complaining. I was ready to just get home so he could let me go and then I could pack my stuff and stay in a hotel for a few days until I could find a new apartment in another state. However, when we got home, my friend didn't let me out like I expected. Instead, he started going through his bedtime routine. Finally, I struggled hard enough that he acknowledged me.

Him: “Yeah, I know tonight was pretty rough for you. I've been planning this for a while and I had a feeling you might not fully enjoy it. That said, let me tell you how things are gonna be from now on. First things first, next week you're gonna call your boss and quit your job. Then, you're going to sign a contract with the fumigation company to become my assistant. Per the contract, as my assistant you'll have to be inside every building I fumigate and you'll also have to sniff my gas between jobs whenever I ask you to. The contract also stipulates that your salary will go into my bank account so that I can use it to help pay for rent, utilities, groceries, and whatever else I want. That will also help ensure you never have enough money to move out and get a place of your own. As an extra bonus, we added a clause that makes it so that quitting within the first ten years of signing the contract will be considered breach of contract. Doesn't that sound great?”

I screamed into his ass and pounded his hips with my fists.

Him: “Yeah, I knew you'd like it. I imagine you'll need some time to think it over though. It's Friday night now and since Monday is Labor Day and we're both off, I figured I'll keep you strapped to my ass until Monday night. That way you'll be in the perfect environment to process all this. By then, I'm sure you'll want out of my ass so badly and be so thirsty and hungry, that signing the contract will be a no brainer.”

I went ballistic. There's no way he could keep me strapped to his ass for three days without food or water. I had to get out, but the harness was unyielding.

Him: “Hey, settle down! It’s time for me to go to bed. If you don't stop screaming and hitting me, tomorrow I'll eat an entire can of baked beans and go for a run to get nice and sweaty.”

That shut me up. I was trapped. He pulled down the back of his underwear and tightened the harness more, sealing me between his bare ass cheeks.

Him: “Well good night! Just so you know, my night farts are the worst…”

I shuddered. Deep down I knew I had no choice. Come Monday, I would sign that contract and begin my new life dedicated to him and his gas. As the first night fart blasted me, I began to quietly sob into his ass…