#felt very Small and Stupid afterwards

[kamiversee]

➶-͙˚ ༘✶ 𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝙁*𝘾𝙆 𝙇𝙄𝙎𝙏

✧.* CHAPTER 20 || The Night of Regrets

[ { SYPNOSIS } ] ➤ A tale in which Gojo Satoru blackmails you into seducing a list of people to clear his debt. Sounds easy enough, right?

[ { CHAPTER CONTENT } ] ➤ language, alcohol consumption, angst, smut, & fluff. (!!Brief drunk sex warning!!)

[ { WORD COUNT } ] ➤ 4k

[ { PAIRINGS } ] ➤ jjk men x f!reader. gojo x f!reader. geto x f!reader. toji x f!reader. choso x f!reader. sukuna x f!reader. nanami x f!reader.

[ [ chapters mlist } ]

——AND OH HOW YOU HATE being alone like this. Especially because it wasn't just a one-day thing.

No, instead, Choso distances himself from you.

It hurts like hell too. His messages get drier, and he has an excuse for every time you try to hang out with him, and your calls go unanswered.

What a sweet form of torture it is to have your crush give you the same treatment you give your blackmailer. At some point, you think you wallow yourself in a self-isolating pit of pity.

Shoko thinks she hears less from you more than ever, Gojo still receives the same treatment as always, Geto tries to comfort you every now and then but it's no use, and Choso continues to set boundaries for you and him.

It gets pretty rough for you mentally after that.

How are you supposed to deal with being stripped of the company of the one man who sought to bring you joy? There were some nights you cried about it and some nights you took out that stupid journal with that stupid list and scribbled out every name there-- only to rewrite it back afterward.

Reluctantly, you ended up telling Gojo that you managed to sleep with Choso, to which he was quick to send you money. Getting paid was nice and all but the money felt meaningless when you no longer had Choso by your side.

What's another six thousand dollars when the guy you like won't even read your texts anymore?

The panging you get in your chest every time you think about it all is dizzying. After all, no matter how you think about it, none of it is your fault.

Sure, you could've had your bedroom door closed that day Gojo walked in but... would such a small change have made any difference to your situation? The man could've still recorded you. Hell, knowing him, he probably would've.

You hate him so much.

You wish you knew how to express just how deep your hate for him goes but it's difficult to do so as he tries to make up for his wrongdoings.

Every notification from Gojo never fails to piss you off but it gets one hundred percent worse when you no longer have Choso around. Not being able to get with the man you like is obviously Gojo's fault so anything from that man reminds you of the situation and you get upset all over again.

This leads to one night full of mistakes, regrets, and... surprises.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

What started your unfortunate night was a final text from Choso that consisted of him explaining that it's hard to talk to you because of how he feels about you.

It was a long paragraph that explained how every time he talks to you, he wants to express his feelings more and more, which ultimately makes it difficult for him to communicate with you because it hurts to know that he's not yours and you're not his. Very explicitly, Choso basically says he doesn't want you to text him anymore.

He wasn't rude about it or anything; even making sure to carefully request such a thing in kind consideration of your feelings. Though, that didn't change how much it hurt.

Choso was your way out, your slim form of freedom. And yet, you lost it.

Where does this lead you? To a bar.

Was heading there the best decision in the world? Probably not. Did you care? Not one bit.

You needed something to relieve your stress, something to take this weight off your shoulders, even if only for one night. So there you sat, swallowing down drink after drink after drink in hopes of washing away all the pain you felt.

Does the sting of liquor down your throat and warmth over your body help you feel any better? For a moment, yes.

It was like all the voices in your head stopped screaming for just a second. No longer were you cursing yourself out for every mistake you've made leading up to now and no longer did you think of all the terrible things happening to you right now.

Instead, you felt just a slither of peace again. The sounds of laughter and soft clicks filled your ears as you calmed your brain, sinking into a tipsy state.

After swishing down your nth drink of the night, you found yourself feeling incredibly good. Almost too good, honestly. Not only was your body warm and your mind at ease but, there was this annoying pulse spurring in between your legs.

The only downfall of you drinking your sorrows away was that you happen to be one of the most unfortunate forms of drunk. Not any angry drunk, silly drunk, or sad drunk but, a horny one. And terribly at that.

The feeling is frustrating actually. It'd been a while since you last went out for a drink and you almost forgot how ridiculously horny you get after some time. The throbbing you feel is so very annoying, especially when all you can do is mentally replay events with Choso.

The man has actually made you squirt more than once. And every time it was because he was giving you head. You recall riding his face once, as per his begging request, and at this moment all you can remember was the way he looked at you and that damn tongue of his lapping at your cunt.

Just thinking about it again makes you dizzy, your stomach churning as you remember it all. His deep guttural groans and pretty whines still echo throughout your mind.

Then there's the way he fucked you-- the feeling of his cock hitting all the right places inside you, making you cry out his name for hours on end, and his praising words... it all haunts your mind.

Shit, now you're really horny. You wish you could call him. If he wasn't upset with you, you'd definitely call him right about now. You're so worked up that you could probably get off on just the sound of his voice right now.

A sigh leaves your lips as you realize you can't even call him. God, you miss him so much and it hasn't even been that long since the last time you saw him.

With a frown on your face, you move to rest your cheek against your knuckles, holding your head up with your hand.

"Y'know, the last thing I expected to find today was a wonderful piece of ass sitting at this bar with a frown on her face," A sudden voice to your left points out.

You physically revolt against the man's words to you. You don't even spare the male a glance in response to his comment, acting as though you didn't hear him.

A sudden god awfully strong collonge seeps into your nose, the smell clearly expensive but unpleasant nonetheless. Then, in your peripherals, you notice this male leaning toward you.

"Oi, I know you heard me." He pesters.

With a groan, you cut your eyes over to him, eyelids rising at the sight. Just your fucking luck, you managed to run into Naoya at the bar and he's absolutely disgusting. Well, at least every time he opens his mouth.

His face on the other hand makes up for it, to some extent. Your gaze is met with sharp brown irises from the male who just spoke.

Your upper lip twitches as you scrunch your face up at him, disgusted by his words to you. "I wasn't aware you were speaking to me." You hum plainly, glancing away from him.

He scoffs, "I cannot stand women who lie."

"That's wonderful but, I don't remember asking." You comment, your tone cold.

The arrogant man tuts, "And she's rude too? Hah, juuust my luck."

Slowly, you force yourself to turn your head to him, your gaze void of emotion. "If all you came over here to do is foolishly run your mouth, I suggest you fuck off because I'm not in the mood." You say to him.

The corner of his lips pulls into a smirk. Damn the way it resembles Toji most weirdly. "What are you in the mood for then, dollface?" Naoya questions.

Ugh, you cringe at his question. He's so very lucky that you have a list to complete because that's the only reason you're tolerating him right now.

"Truthfully? Mindless sex." You blurt out. It's very obvious that you're drunk by this point because the sober version of you would've never uttered such a thing, especially not to this asshole.

A haughty grin spreads across his visibly handsome features and dyed blonde hair with deep dark green roots sways whilst he tilts his head. "Well, then you're in luck. I happen to be an expert at that." Naoya tells you with a wink.

God, you hate everything about his personality already.

"Is that so?" You ask dryly.

"Yeah," He responds, clicking his tongue, "Maybe if you're good enough I'll show you."

You fight the urge to roll your eyes. Instead, you slide out of the barstool you sat at and-- oh. He's taller than you expected him to be. Even so, you blink away the realization and simply sigh at his words.

"If I'm good enough? Please." You reply, "How about this, since I'm not in the mood to argue with you and make you feel small, I'll give you two options."

His brows push together, "Make me feel small? Excuse me-"

"You can either fuck me or fuck off." You interrupt coldly. Beneath your drunken state, you wish he'd fuck off and magically disappear from the list but unfortunately, that's not going to happen.

Naoya stammers for a moment in reaction to your straightforward words. After a second of collecting himself, he shrugs, "Well..." He chuckles, "How can I say no when you give yourself up to me so easily?"

Another sigh leaves you, "Right..." You say, finally allowing your eyes to roll before you grab a rough hold of his shirt and begin to drag him away from the bar.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

The whole thing is a mess.

For your first time having drunk sex in the bathroom at a bar like the true whore you've unwillingly become, it wasn't completely terrible.

Naoya may have a disgustingly offputting way with words but, he's not that bad as fucking you against the wall. Your chest and face are pressed into the cold bathroom wall as the man sloppily rutted into you from behind.

This was most definitely your lowest moment yet. The sex was so... vanilla. Naoya lacked foreplay in every way possible that you're pretty sure he doesn't even know what it is. Half of your moans were fake because there were only a few times when you felt the tip of his cock kiss that sweet spot inside you.

His thrusts were too fast and not in a pleasurable way but in a way that made you want to scoff. Naoya was pale in comparison to the past men you've been with. The only thing saving him was the size of his dick and the fact that you were already horny.

If not for those two factors, this whole thing would've been terrible. He tried dirty talk but it all went through one ear and out the other due to how terrible it was. To make up for that, you can't deny the fact that his grunts and groans turned you on.

"Aagh, fuck." Naoya would groan, his voice near your ear and causing your cunt to flutter around him.

There wasn't much else that he did that fueled your arousal though. You were mainly getting off on the sounds of sex and the few times he thrust into you at the proper angle. That aside, to even come close to an orgasm, you had to imagine you were with someone else.

It's sad but, at least the man's name would be checked off the list after this.

A single orgasm was building up within you the very second you imagined it was Choso with you. You could practically hear the way he'd moan into your ear, begging you to cum around his cock and make a mess of him.

The thought alone made your eyes roll back and you were so close. Then, to the least of your expectations, Naoya selfishly pulled out of you, leaving you high and dry.

Your brows furrowed quickly as you panted against the wall. With a loud grunt that fills the bathroom, Naoya cums embarrassingly onto the floor. You have to bat your eyelashes as you gather what the hell this man just did.

Surely he's not done... right?

To your disappointment, he is. The sound of Naoya fixing himself with not even a word uttered to you can be heard, his hands working his member back into his pants before he moves to wash his hands.

You blink in slow motion, pushing yourself off the wall and standing on legs that are also trying to process what just happened. You'd just been denied an orgasm completely.

You scoff, "Is this a joke...?"

Naoya raises his brows, "Is what a joke? You've fulfilled your purpose, you can go now." He dismisses.

And that does it for you. Annoyed, you move to hike your underwear back up your legs and then tug your dress down into place, feeling absolutely disgusted with what just occurred.

"You..." Another scoff exits your mouth, "You asshole..."

The man chuckles at your claim before heading toward the bathroom door, "I've heard worse." He hums, winking at you, "And hey, for what it's worth, you have good pussy." He... compliments?

You send the man a dumbfounded look. Is he for real right now? Like, is he so fucking for real right now??

"You could probably make lots of money off it, honestly," Naoya comments one last time before opening the door and leaving.

Your skin is crawling with an overwhelming feeling of disgust. Never in your life have you felt so utterly used. This feeling is worse than what Gojo's put you through. You're ashamed you even let that dickhead of a man put his dick inside you.

You shudder at what you just did, a permanent scowl stuck to your face. This is worse than when you thought Choso left you. Hell, you'd prefer that a million times over what that misogynistic fuckface just said and did to you.

After gathering yourself and making sure you don't look like a complete mess, you are about to leave the bathroom when the nasty mess he left on the floor catches your eye. Even drunk, you didn't have it in you to leave such indecency on the floor.

So, you were quick to grab paper towels and clean it up, saving the janitor who'd later have to come in there from doing so.

After that, you toss the paper towel into the trash and stumble out of the bathroom. With everything you just experienced, another round of drinks is screaming your name. There's absolutely no way you're going to allow yourself to sober up after that.

So, you make your way back over to the bar and return to your previous activities, now feeling so unsatisfied and unhappy with everything.

Every drink you swallow down merely provides you with a temporary moment of satisfaction. The second you feel that the excessive drinking isn't working, you feel sad all over again, just like how you did when you first entered the bar.

You wanted to cry and scream at the same time. Your head was spinning and your vision began to blur a little, terrible feelings bubbling up inside you as your regret washed over you faster than the alcohol washed down your throat.

When your eyes grew teary, you were quick to scramble for your phone. If not anything else, the one thing you could use right now is either a good fuck that'd make you stop thinking or, someone who can give you genuine advice so that you don't feel so shitty anymore.

And who can provide either of those things for you? Well, none other than Geto Suguru himself.

Your thumb swiped through your recent calls, hazily spotting his contact and calling him. The phone rings for barely even a second, the call connecting as soon as you lift the device to your ear.

"Hello?" The man's voice rings through your ears, making you smile ever so slightly.

You swallow, "Hi Sugu..." Your words are so obviously slurred to anyone listening.

There's a second of silence before he responds, "Hey, you alright?"

"N-No..." You hum, "Can you uhm... C-Come pick me up?" You suddenly whisper drunkenly.

You hear a sigh then some shuffling, "Where are you?" He asks.

You giggle, "The bar."

There's another pause. Then, you hear him sigh again, "What bar, sweetheart?"

"I'll send you the uhm... the uh..." Your brain suddenly freezes as you search for your words.

He makes up for you, "Address...?"

"Yeah, yes. That." You say quickly.

A slight chuckle is heard over the phone, "Alright, send me the address, sweets. I'll be there soon."

"M'kayy," You hum as you move to send him the address.

You end up simply sending your location but you were too drunk to see the difference, not that it mattered. As the message is sent, an amused chuckle is heard over the phone.

You furrow your brows, bringing the cell back to your ear, "What's so funny?"

"What're you doin' all the way across town, love?" He asks in return, finding it humorous.

You pout, "I dunno, can't remember why I came all the way-," You burp slightly, "Out here."

You can't see it but the male shakes his head, "I see. Are you drunk?" He asks, tone concerned.

You smile, "Mayyybe."

"Maybe? Yes or no, sweetheart."

"Yeah, kinda." You sigh.

He hums and you can hear soft car noises in the background, "And I assume you're alone...?"

"Mhm."

"Why?"

"Didn't wanna bother Shoko with my..." You sigh heavily, "My problems."

"Did something happen?" The man questions, "Why would you go out drinking alone?"

"I dunno Sugu, I just need to drink away my problems, y'know?"

"You could've done that with..." He trails off for a second before finishing, "With me."

You yawn, "Yeah, I could've..." Your words come out lower and the man over the phone can tell you're growing drowsy.

"Are you fallin' asleep on me over there?" He asks, chuckling slightly but clearly nervously.

You move to lay your head down on the bar, just barely holding your hold up against your ear, "Mhm."

The sound of him sighing is heard, "Need you to stay awake for me, sweetheart."

"Sugu..." You mumble tiredly, "Why do you keep calling me that?"

There's a sudden silence over the phone.

A throb pains your head and you wince at the abrupt feeling. "S-Suguru?" You call out, your voice revealing your pained state.

"Y-Yeah?" He responds.

"You didn't answer my question..."

"I know." He states, "Are you okay over there? You sound hurt? What's wrong? Talk to me please." The male rambles, clearly panicked by the sound of your voice.

The most he knows is that you're at some bar alone and drunk so to hear you in pain has his heart worried in more ways than one.

You struggle to respond to him as you steadily slip from consciousness.

"Fuck, c'mon, don't fall asleep on me." He urges, his voice anxious.

"M-Mhm..." You mumble.

"Sweetheart, listen to the sound of my voice okay? I can't have you pass out before I get there."

You groan a little, "...Okay."

He smiles at your reply, "Keep yourself awake by talking to me, tell me about your day."

"M-My day?" You frown, "It was shitty..."

"S'that why you went out for a drink? You had a bad day?" The way his voice has gone all soft makes your heart throb for some reason.

Your eyes get teary all of a sudden, "Y-Yeah."

"Tell me what happened." He requests, "You can do that, right?"

"Uhuh..." You agree.

"Good girl," The male praises, his words giving you encouragement. "C'mon, tell me what happened."

"Well..." You steadily begin to explain the events of your day.

From how normal it was to how Choso's single text ruined your mood and then to the terrible sex you just had, you explain everything over the phone with a slur to your words every now and then. Your explanation comes out slowly since you're fighting sleep but you get through it.

"Then I..." You exhale softly, "Then I called you."

"I see." He hums, "Well, I'm right around the corner so keep your eyes open til' I get there."

"No promises." You say with a chuckle.

"Not funny, sweets. I need you awake." He replies sternly.

You groan, "Whyyy do you keep calling me thaaaat?" You whine.

Again, there's no response to your question.

"I'm gonna hang up on you, Suguru." The chances of you doing so are unlikely but you are seconds away from falling asleep.

"You better not." He says.

"Then tell me why..." Your voice fades out as your eyes shut comfortably. Mentally, you got your question out but realistically, your sentence trailed off.

Distorted sounds of your name being called are heard in your ear but second after second, the sounds fade away and blissful white noise engulfs you.

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆ .　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

Your sleeping frame is spotted by the man you called as soon as he enters the bar minutes later, his heart rate all over the place. Quick and long strides are made to approach your resting body and hands fly to your face, lifting your head from the cold and dirty bar to get a good look at you.

Even through your sleep, you're pretty sure you hear a familiar voice whisper to you, "What am I gonna do with you?"

Those same hands move from your face and to under your legs and behind your back. Your limp body is lifted from your seat bridal-style and your head relaxes against a lean chest.

The slap of brisk fresh air causes you to stir awake for only a moment. Your eyes flutter open and the smell of cologne is in your nose, the scent almost... nostalgic? It quickly makes you think of Gojo for some strange reason.

"Suguru?" You croak out.

The male holding you is quick to look down at you, his eyes filled with worry. "Sweetheart, you gave me quite a scare," He says softly, his voice making your brows furrow. "Are you okay?"

You groan and rub your temples, feeling the remnants of a pounding headache. "Not... really," You admit, your voice still slurred from the alcohol. "And why do you..."

You end up trailing off as you shift your gaze upwards to the face of the person holding you right now. The question gets stuck in your throat while you eye the man's face.

Soft blue eyes are peering lowly at your drunken expression, a firm pair of slender hands carrying you as if you weigh nothing, ruffled white hair bright enough to blind someone and a face that's all too angelic for the hate you hold for it.

After a gulp, you bat your eyelashes and squint, wondering if you're seeing things. "Gojo?" You whisper softly.

A beautifully broken smile is given to you along with the sound of a shaky yet relieved sigh, "Yeah?"

You pout, "Why are you here...?"

"Well, love," His voice is gentle, "When you call..." He leans just a little bit closer to you, "...I come running."

GOJO SATORU ✔︎

GETO SUGURU ✔︎

TOJI FUSHIGURO ✔︎

KAMO CHOSO ✔︎

ZEN'IN NAOYA ✔︎

NANAMI KENTO ☐

??? SUKUNA ☐

mlist || previous chapt || next chpt

[lysil7777]

Yan! Dom! Fem! Reader x Sub! Boy

"P-please just.. just leave me alone!" James whimpered, tears welling up in his brown eyes, cheeks and ears flushing

"Aww what's wrong Jamie? Are you gonna cry? Did I hurt your feelings? Do you need your Mommy? You lean in to bite his ear and then whisper "I could be your mommy~"

Jamie hated himself for being unable to stop the moan that came out when you nipped at his ear and hated himself even more for letting you bully and harass him everyday.

When Jamie started college he swore things would be different from high school, he'd be more social, more motivated, and less shy. But 3 months later and the only person he talked to on a daily basis was you.

The first time you two met was in class, he'd braved up the courage to ask you for a pencil, he didn't really need one but he was trying to get out of his comfort zone.

You obliged but only after teasing him a bit asking what he'd give you in return, he got all embarrassed not knowing how to properly return your banter, and offered to pay you which you found very amusing. After a few more interactions you started to grow very fond of the nerd who sat behind you in Calc and before you knew it he was always on your mind.

The way he'd get embarrassed and look away from you when he didn't know what to say, the nervous habits he had when he was out by himself, how kind he was without anyone noticing, he was your adorable little specimen, for you only. And of course the best part was how naughty he could be, oh he was so innocent at the same time tho. You'd lost count of the number of times you'd watched him through his window, jerking it to soft domme porn, pet play, degradation, and dumbification, he was a pervy little nerd but the shame he felt afterward made you want to climb through his window and show him how much more depraved you were.

"What are you talking about y/n, I'm older than you that doesn't even make sense" he rambled looking anywhere but your eyes that were boring into his skull. God why did you have to be so close, why did you have to smell so good and be so pretty and-

His thoughts were cut off when you grabbed his chin and made him look at you directly

"I just think you're the kind of guy who needs direction, someone to help make those difficult decisions a sweet pet like you can't really decide for themselves, and why should you, that pretty little head of yours shouldn't have to worry about a single thing" you cooed squishing his cheeks together and making his lips push out

"I'm eighteen y/n, I can make my own decisions" Jamie argued or tried to through squished lips

At 5'3" you stood an entire nine inches under Jamie, but that didn't make him feel any less small in your presence

Letting go of his face you took a step back pretending to think for a moment "Alright then, I'll let you choose. Give me your number or get wedgied."

Jamie stood there dumb for a second, pants growing tighter and his skin warmer

"W-what?" He laughed nervously

Pulling his face closer to yours by the collar of his shirt you repeated your earlier statement to him in a slow demeaning manner, as if he was brain dead

"Give me your number or you get boo boo, oh no!" Your lips turned down in faux sadness

Jamie wasn't sure what to make of the situation, you usually weren't this physical with him, he was a little scared but mostly turned on. He didn't want to admit it but he had the teeniest tiniest crush on you and he blamed the stupid porn he'd been watching but he only looked into it because of you!

"I-I don't.." he paused

On one hand, he wanted to give you his number but on the other hand he'd never thought getting wedgied sounded so appealing

"You don't hmm~? Well, that just won't do. What happened to my big tough guy? Who was so strong and independent? Do you know darling? Ah, of course you don't. You're just as clueless as a little puppy dog and as cute as one too <3"

The new nickname shocked Jamie and caused him to audibly gasp, his hard-on fully visible now

"You can't j-just-aghhh"

You gripped him by his hair to cut him off

"Oh is puppy trying to give the orders now? What a silly little mutt you are, you really don't know how this works do you? The tent in your pants suggests otherwise but here you are telling me what I can and can't do with my property"

"I-I'm not yours y/n! A-and I'm not a pervert!!"

That first statement made your blood boil and you didn't even realize that you'd pushed Jamie down to his knees

"A good dog doesn't speak, a good dog gets treats and rewards but you're not being a good dog, Jamie. I know your tiny brain might not have comprehended it yet but you are mine, you're only mine. Who else is gonna talk to such a pervert hm? You were made for me, nobody else should ever see you like this, in fact, nobody ever sees you the way I do."

Before he could get a word out you pinned him to his position by placing your shoe on his clothed dick and reached over him to grab his boxers. Putting pressure on both simultaneously had him squirming and letting out the most sinful moans that made you wanna take him right then and there.

"Y-nnnnnnn" he whined, grinding up to help release some of the tension but each movement made the fabric between his ass more uncomfortable

"Shhh puppy, this is the punishment you've been given, I wouldn't be a very good owner if I didn't discipline my pet, you just gotta learn how to be good for me mkay? Don't you wanna learn how to be good and get rewards and pets and walkies~?"

All the new sensations made Jamie's head spin, his body felt like it was burning up from the inside out, his head was fuzzy, his dick was so much more sensitive than it had ever been while he was touching it and he couldn't place why the slight uncomfortableness of the wedgie made his parts throb even more, the whole situation was so intense poor boy couldn't fully wrap his doggy brain around it.

"I-I'm so close y/nnn, oh godd please, give me more! 'M so closeee" he panted not caring how pathetic he looked

"Already? Such a greedy pup for me hehe~ Have you learned your lesson, Jamie? Do you even deserve to cum against the bottom of my shoe?" You sang in a taunting manner pressing down even harder with your shoe

"I-, aghhhhh ohh yess fuck, YES! I'm yours y/n only yours! Promise! I'll-uggghh I'll be-hah hah- good! Just for you!"

"Atta boy! That wasn't so hard was it pup?" Finally letting go of his underwear you continued to let Jamie grind against your foot until he got to the edge

"M- boutta...cum!!" At this point, Jamie had grabbed your leg, chin resting on your thick thigh, eyes teary and glazed over staring up at you as if you were a goddess

Softly cupping his face you lifted it off your leg and removed any contact from his dick causing him to let out strings of breathy and high-pitched whines

You sat down and pulled him into your lap, gently wiping away the fresh fallen tears off his face

"W-*hiccup*why y/n, was so close...so close"

His protest died down with a stern look from you

"You'll be alright puppy, I promise. I'm gonna take care of you from now on, you are mine after all"

The rest of the evening was spent holding your new puppy, rubbing his tummy and flustering him with all the soft attention you gave him

He couldn't believe he got so lucky as to experience you, and as long as he considers being owned and expected to heed your everyword, he was lucky!

End <3

[minjix]

cinderella → Vinnie Hacker x female!reader

summary: in which you’re the one catching his attention

warnings: fluff, and that’s a warning of itself lol + plus the standard swear word here and there. also I can’t for the life of me write an ending, so I apologize if it feels abrupt-because it is lol. also keep in mind that english is not my first language.

a/n: I write with breaks to actually be able to give it my all and not lose interest in writing- which is a genuine fear of mine

word count: 2.6k :)

masterlist

reblogs and comments are very much appreciated!

It was all a stupid cliche in your eyes as you stared at the tweet Vinnie had posted. “who is she.” Simple as that, yet mostly everyone knew what he was referring to, but they didn’t know whom and Vinnie didn’t know either.

Like previously stated, it was all a stupid cliche- a masquerade party filled to the brim with influencers and small celebrities, crowding a huge mansion which felt tiny as you pushed your way through to get a much needed breath of fresh air, away from the liquor stained breaths.

You sighed in relief as you stepped into the cool L.A, two am breeze, the music thumping through the ground, vibrating your whole body. “I feel the same way,” a dark voice chuckled. Startled, you looked into the direction of which the voice came from, and there he stood, leaning on the wall, head tilted back and eyes on the night sky. He was dressed simple, something you rolled your eyes at, and his arms of which were folded in front of his chest was covered in tattoos. “Huh?” Was all that you managed to get out, your tongue deciding to twist on itself.

The corners of his mouth twitched as though he wanted to smile, but refrained from doing just that. “Wanting to get away for a few minutes,” his voice was velvety and , his skin shone red from the neon lights seeping through the huge windows.

“Oh- yeah, you answered stupidly, “totes.” You wanted to smack yourself. A laugh rumbled his chest and escaped from his lips as his head tilted in your direction, his eyes meeting yours. “Totes? Never heard that before-in real life that is.” Duh, because you’ve spoken like a bad stereotypical surfer dude.

You didn’t know how to respond so you simply nodded your head, very aware of his eyes trailing down your body. A tattooed hand entered your peripheral, “I’m Vinnie,” he introduced himself. It was then more sober you connected the dots, of course it’s Vinnie the Hacker. The only disguise he had was a black eye mask with black crystals in intricate designs; it looked expensive and it most definitely was, knowing who he was and all. You hadn’t bothered to wear a mask, but had regretted that decision the moment you stepped into the mansion.

You didn’t shake his hand. “Cool,” you shrugged mentally preparing yourself with whatever half assed excuse you could come up with to leave. ‘my apartment is on fire’ don’t want to jinx myself you thought afterwards. “Um, nice to meet you?” You sounded awfully unsure, and guilt brewed in your stomach when you saw Vinnie wince. “So,” he began carefully, trying to get an understanding,” what’s your name?”

But you didn’t feel like answering. “I’m hungry.” You spat out and his eyes widened. “What?”

“I’m hungry, so I’m going to leave. Bye.” You turned to leave but a careful grasp of your arm halted you, “do you want to get McDonalds with me? I’m kinda hungry too.” He sounded shy, and you couldn’t even imagine turning him down, he looked like a sad puppy for Christ sake.

“Sure.”

The drive to the fast food chain was surprisingly comfortable, even though Vinnie tried his best to get you to tell him your name; to no avail. And soon enough the two of you were seated by the window, both with big macs in hand, awkwardness thrown out the window as the alcohol induced hunger made everything taste oh so much better.

“so fucking good,” Vinnie groaned through a mouthful causing you to almost choke on your fourth bite. Your eyes didn’t leave his form, his hair in a disarray and his eyes closed as he ate the burger.

You forced a chuckle, “won’t your friends get mad or something?” You mumbled, playing with your fries. The tattooed man shook his head, “no? Why would they?” His eyes were on yours now and you couldn’t help but feel bare under his intense gaze.

“You kinda ditched them…” you trailed of as a smirk grew on his lips, his tongue quickly darting out to lick them. “Trust me they won’t notice.” He sounded sure. “Why?” You asked and this time he laughed softly, “you’re very curious, huh?” You shrugged, “I guess.”

He continued, “but no, they were pretty busy trying to get laid so I really doubt they’d notice me missing.” He stressed the word ‘really’.

“Oh.” He laughed again as he stared you down, “you’re really weird, y’know that?”

“Thanks?”

You and Vinnie had spent an hour talking nonsense, and when the two of you noticed the hard stares from the workers you both decided to leave. Vinnie had insisted on dropping you off at home but an uncomfortable feeling grew in the pit of your stomach as you politely declined, telling him a white lie to soothe his worries about leaving a girl in the streets of LA at three am.

——-

The morning after, curiosity had you in its grip as you reluctantly opened Twitter and searched for his handle.

@/vinniehacker: who is she. posted at five am. Quicker than lightning you exited the app, contemplating on deleting it completely, but you refrained from doing it.

You grew frustrated at yourself, you had an amazing night last night with an amazing attractive guy, and you full out blew everything to bits.

Your best friend tended to call you a flesh ball of anxiety, a saying that left a sour taste in your mouth and cheeks aching from faking a laugh. You were a people pleaser, but at the same time you hated everyone and preferred to be by yourself. So you did everything to stay out of the spotlight, simply rooming with your childhood best friend who went viral on TikTok months ago. And Vinnie was the opposite of staying out of the spotlight.

Before your brain had caught up to what your hands were doing, you had already entered the cursed bird app again, entering his handle, tapping on the tweet and reading through the comments. ‘she????’, ‘what?!’, all in a similar fashion. Speculations were thrown left and right and thirty minutes had passed of you endlessly scrolling, biting your lip raw until you tasted iron.

“Get up! We have an event to go to!” You wanted to cry, to come up with a lie that you were sick and didn’t want to spread it further. You lied a lot, at least tried to before your brain took you through the endless possibilities of consequences coming from said lies. So you heaved a sigh and got ready.

———-

The event was extremely overcrowded and overwhelming, the LA sun beaming down on bodies dripping in expensive perfumes, a cloud of strong smells begging for a headache to form. You were a plus one, a non famous one at that, so you stood awkwardly to the side as your friend and her famous friends took promo pictures. In your hand was a mimosa, minus the champagne, so orange juice.

You didn’t bother to keep up the happy charade, settling on frowning while sipping your expensive orange juice. You had half a mind to ask what brand of juice it was but decided that you were already looking stupid so there was no point of making it worse.

You were painfully aware of how lonely you looked so you grabbed your phone and entered the weather app, wondering how the weather in Hamburg was.

“So, uh, how’s the weather looking?” A velvety voice asked from above your right shoulder, warm air tickling your skin and you froze. Shit. “Uhm, cloudy with a chance of rain,”

You turned towards him and tried not to gape at what you saw. He was wearing a half buttoned white blouse with his hair slicked back except for a few strands in the front. He wore black and expensive looking trousers, and silver rings wrapped around almost each finger with a silver braided bracelet. His sleeves were rolled up revealing his tattoos on his sun kissed skin. And he smelled so fucking good.

He gave you a mischievous grin, “hey, you.” His eyes trailed over your form, several times with a glint in his eyes. You whispered a hey back, flustered for some reason and you were also ashamed, for what, you had no idea.

“I never got your name,” he muttered, his hands in his pocket. You could only shrug, words not agreeing with you. And there it was, that nauseating shameful feeling you got, you were ashamed of yourself for some reason, well you know why, but actually taking the bull by its horns are the hard part.

“I know,” he frowned at your answer, raising an eyebrow. “So you’re not going to give me your name, so I’ll just have to call you Cinderella then. “ he smiled smugly at the end of his sentence, as though he had conquered the world with his pinkie.

“Cinderella?” You asked confused and a smit insulted. “I didn’t drop my shoe…” you trailed off, combing through your memory, and sure enough, you had both your shoes on, or you would’ve noticed otherwise.

He laughed out loud, his teeth on full display and eyes closed. “No, you didn’t drop your shoe. But you did leave me with not being able to stop thinking of you…” he said, his eyes unrelentingly searching yours as if he could simply read your name in your irises. Your eyes widened and you felt as though your stomach was turning inside out. This has to be a cruel joke, you thought to yourself as you glared at him.

“That’s not funny,” you murmured through clenched teeth. He looked confused, brows furrowed. “It-it wasn’t a joke,” he said sheepishly. He looked genuinely hurt, and it made you doubt your insecurities.

“I genuinely had a great time with you last night, and I want to get to know you.” He kept his eyes on yours the entire time. “So please, what’s your name?” He sounded desperate, as though your name would unlock every story there was to know about you.

“Y/n,” you whispered and you watched in awe as he tested your name on his tongue, several times before settling with a “I like it, it suits you.” Vinnie telling you that your name suits you felt like a thousand suns were shining down on you. You bit your lip to repress the grin that was threatening to grow and instead you settled for a shy smile, praying that you didn’t have anything between your teeth.

“Y/nn!” A voice called, it seemed as though your friend had finished with her promo pics. “I got you a goodie bag-oh,” she paused when she saw the Vinnie Hacker standing beside you. “Hey,” she smiled and fluttered her eyelashes and a boulder dropped into your stomach. Of course, you thought. She’s so much prettier than me, and famous.

He only nodded in acknowledgement with a small ‘hey’, it didn’t deter your friend from asking a lot of questions. You took that as your queue to leave, slowly walking backwards whilst Vinnie’s eyes were on yours the entire time, looking confused as to what you were doing.

You quickly nodded towards your friend, who was still animatedly talking, whilst wiggling your eyebrows suggestively, ignoring the knot in your stomach.

Once again Vinnie looked confused before the dots in his head connected. His eyes widened before he shook his head, something your friend hadn’t noticed as she was too busy scrolling through her TikTok to show Vinnie a specific video of her. He mouthed the word ‘NO’ several times whilst staring at you with his wide eyes.

It was kind of endearing to watch him panic. A chuckle escaped you before he turned to your friend, an apologetic smile on his face. “Excuse me,” he said softly, eyes still on you before walking towards, grabbing your hand with utter care before he led you inside the building.

He stopped in an empty hallway, staring down at you with a smirk on his lips. “Trying to set me up with your friend,” he murmured lazily, eyes tracing your lips. “When you know fully well that I’m interested in you…”

It felt like a fever dream, and you had to mentally force yourself to focus on the situation at hand. Is Vinnie about to kiss me?

“You don't even know me,” you retaliated, a frown on your lips, your lips of which he still stared at. He shrugged at your answer, a serious look taking over his face. “So let me,” he began. “Let’s get out of here.”

You shook your head, “I can’t just leave my friend-“.

He interrupted you, “your friend who seemed very busy, in fact, I recall you standing by yourself.” You had nothing to say to that except for a gentle nod with a smile on your lips. Vinnie grinned in return before tugging out of the building and into his car. You had sent a simple text to your friend-‘ i’m going out, don’t wait for me <3’

————————-

Vinnie treated you to McDonalds, once again and took you to a look out, the city of angels to stare at whilst you both ate. His shoulder touched yours as you sat on the picnic blanket filled to the brim with greasy and mouth watering food.

“So tell me, how come I can’t find you anywhere?” He asked, his hand playing with yours, twisting your rings. It created a warm feeling in your stomach.

“I’m a private person,” you began, hearing Vinnie murmuring a ‘couldn’t have guessed,’ and you nudged your shoulder into his playfully, drawing a laugh from his lips. “I guess, uhm I don’t see myself in the spotlight, having people constantly judging my every move.” He nodded in agreement, looking lost in thought.

“I can understand that, it’s just unusual to see someone not famous in parties held by influencers.” You nodded, agreeing with him. “My friend is pretty famous and always makes me her plus one.”

“I like it though,” you stared at him confused whilst he stared at you with a small smile on his lips, almost looking shy. “Like what?”

“I don’t know, it’s hard to explain…” he looked lost in his thoughts.

“Try,” you pushed, his hand tightening around yours.

“I like that I can pursue this,” he gestured whilst you stared at him with wide eyes. “That you’ll be somewhat safe from the onslaught of comments you would’ve gotten if you were a public figure. This feels normal to me, y’know. Like it’s not for show, it’s just me and you.”

“Me and you?” You asked with a grin, his smile grew and he gave you a wink, “of course, this is our second date after all.”

“Is that so?” You bit your lip when he leaned towards you, his lips so close to touching yours, before he planted a small, almost phantom-like kiss on them. “It is so,” he gauged your expression before ultimately seeing the contentment in your eyes, and pressed his lips to yours firmly. You felt his hand grasp your cheek as he tilted his head to gain more access.

You were both breathing heavily before you disconnected your lips, but Vinnie took it upon himself to kiss your cheeks before traveling down your neck, leaving you even more breathless.

“I’m taking you on dates everyday this week,” he breathed into your neck and you felt your eyes roll back from the sensation and his sultry voice.

“I expect you to-“ he stopped you from talking with another kiss. “Shut up and kiss me,” he ordered and you did, for several hours, the once bright sun in the middle of sky, now dipping down on the horizon covered by the Los Angeles skyline.

[missmugiwara]

Insubordination

Summary: fem!reader x Levi Ackerman // Never in a million years would you defy your captain over a gift. From him. Quite the story how you got in the first place.

Warning: 18+, fluff, slightly suggestive, you are soooo down bad but so is he

Note: I love him!

✦ Word count is 2.5k ✦

A hand at your chest, balling into a fist only to grab at something that wasn't there. Only air.

Your eyes stared at your reflection in the window before blinking, readjusting to focus on the contents on the other side of the glass - the inside of the shop. The sun shone at the right angle, causing jewelry to twinkle in the light. Gently, you smiled while admiring the different pieces.

Even so, there was one thing that dazzled you over the others. The one thing that captivated you more than any other sparkly, expensive ring or watch or bauble: a necklace. A silver necklace with a silver pendant - the pendant being a simple feather, wisps carved into it and encrusted with a million little diamonds that imitated the millions of stars in a night sky.

You had wanted that necklace more than anything.

Every time your squad came back from an expedition, the route always passed the jewelry shop last. And every time, you would peek in the window to check and see if that little treasure was still there. Maybe someday you'd get it. These days, jewelry was hard to come by. It didn't help that you felt so selfish for staring all the time and for wanting to purchase such a small vanity. And of course, every time, your friends would mercilessly tease you about this. They would tell you to just buy the damn thing already! You deserved something nice for your hard work. Didn't you know? But when you laughed along with their cooing, it was the same excuse every time.

"Oh, goodness, no! My family needs me! Every cent I earn goes back to my little brothers!"

How many more times would you pass by that stupid shop and dream of that necklace? Surely, you could afford it after all these months of saving.

It was so obvious.

Upon arriving back from an expedition, while carting the injured and parading through town as the people looked upon the scouts, Levi could see. He could clearly see when you drove your horse off to the side. He could see you sneak and take a moment to quietly look into that shop's window. And he could see a friend trotting afterward as you exchanged whispers and maybe even a joke or two. Trying to hide this playful behavior when you should have a modicum of decorum on the way back to base was ignored.

At the sound of your giggling, Levi blinked from his perch atop his horse. His expression was stoic, his gaze unbreakable as he stared into your caped back. There you were with your friends, holding back laughter about that silly necklace again.

He squinted his eyes in annoyance. Tch. You should have just bought it already! Everyone kept saying it.

Levi let out a sigh. He knew better than to think that. Because he knew you.

You were there since the very beginning - one of the first people to ever be assigned to his squad. Being close only revealed your strength and devotedness - a pure and unwavering devotedness to him. A most important member of his squad. Yet important was not enough to describe what you could have possibly meant.

Feeling his relentless gaze burn into your back, you looked up to meet those steel eyes of Levi's. In turn, your mouth dropped open in surprise. By the look in your eyes, it was apparent that you were flustered. For a second more, your gazes stayed locked until you adoringly smiled at the captain.

Levi's eyebrow twitched when you gave a small wave with your hand. Your surrounding friends gasped and looked up to where you were waving, and Levi scowled further. They burst into giggles, whispering whatever teases as your attention was pulled back toward them.

That smile on your face was something he could never get over. It was amazing how you could find such joy in a world where the scouts met danger on a daily, if not hourly, basis.

You deserved joy.

With scrunched-up eyebrows and a steady focus in his gray eyes, Levi looked forward. He knew what to do next.

Later that day, Captain Levi Ackerman walked into that very same jewelry shop. The family that owned the establishment was shocked. Patrons gasped. Levi walked around as if it were the most normal thing in the world, ignoring the gazes of people around him. Stupid that they thought this was so unusual. He was as unbothered as always.

"C - Captain Levi!? W - welcome, sir!"

The Captain Levi?

Buying jewelry? Would it be a ring? Was it for a secret lover? A woman in his life? The unreadable captain was a romantic? Amongst all the stares, low whispers, and comments Levi could give less of a shit what people thought. So after a moment of walking toward the front desk, with the owner quaking in his boots for whatever reason, Levi spoke curtly.

"That feather necklace in the window. I'll take it."

"Excellent choice, sir! P - please accept this discount for all your hard work!"

"Thanks."

It was also later that same day when your beloved squad captain found you in the dining area. A group of scouts were gathered around you, eating and laughing as you regaled them with a funny story from working on your family's farm as a youth.

As usual, Levi's appearance shut everyone up immediately, earning him stares of slight panic. Everyone probably had the same thought: they were being way too rowdy if the captain of all people walked over. However, you had the inkling that this was about something else. A heat blossomed across your cheeks when Levi stopped right in front of you.

"We need to talk. Now."

Of course, Levi didn't scare you in the slightest - but if he needed to talk so urgently, it did make you worry a bit. Instantly, you hopped up and gave an energetic yes, sir! And you followed him, giving one last pout at anyone who dared to snicker at the prospect of you and the captain being alone.

Was it really that obvious? Did everyone know about your feelings?

With a turn of Levi's head toward the crowd behind him, eyes glaring daggers, that was when everyone really shut up.

What really caught you off guard was when you and Levi were finally alone. You, seated in front of his desk, and he opposite of you in a much more lavish chair. Silence and a sort of heated tension filled the air, albeit you could not quite place a finger on what it was that made it feel this way.

Gently, Levi placed a small box onto the desk with a small clatter. You looked at the box, then at Levi. He was expressionless, and his eyes twinkled under the lamplight. As usual, he looked amazingly handsome. A heat dusted over your cheeks. What did he expect you to do? Soon enough, you opened your mouth to ask what in the world this was, but the captain spoke first.

"Open it."

His face did not change nor did his tone urge you to hurriedly act. He let you take your time as you furrowed your brows in confusion. With parted lips, you blinked at him in question again. You really had no idea what was going on.

So you did as you were told.

Carefully, you separated the lid from the box. And your eyes widened once you registered what was inside.

The necklace.

You held your breath. Levi stolidly watched on.

"Captain - " you gawked, holding the necklace delicately in your fingers.

"We're alone."

"Levi." you breathed, "What… why? This can't be for me."

"It is."

"You did not."

"I did."

A losing battle. So your gaze snapped down to the necklace, a calm and gentle smile spreading across your lips. It was breathtaking. And Levi was breathtaking. He bought this just for you? This was the last thing in the world you would have ever expected, but - you knew him. Cold, impassive Captain Levi to the soldiers. Sweet, resolute Levi to you.

"Thank you, Levi. I love it."

When you looked up, he adorned a small smirk. He leaned back in his chair, crossing a leg over his knee.

"Now you have to help me put it on!" you clapped your hands as Levi scoffed, smirk still at his lips.

Excitedly, you spun around and situated your hair out of place when he stood up to walk over. The necklace was clasped daintily around your neck, Levi's fingers pausing at your skin for a slight second as if to savor the feeling. The feeling of happiness - one such feeling he did not have the opportunity to experience often enough. He could see your shoulders rise when your breath caught in your chest at the contact. After a pause, his index finger reached out on command, and he froze to think about what he should or shouldn't do.

Thoughts you similarly shared. A closeness, a bond was there. Something was definitely there, and even your fellow scouts could see it. But what did you want to risk? Was it okay to take the risk despite knowing your profession all too well?

Levi's finger curled inward, and he ran a knuckle lightly down your spine. An adoring touch, one you did not experience regularly except for the rare opportunities Levi chose to reveal his inner softness. Foolishly, you hoped he did not feel your heart thundering throughout your body when he touched you so sweetly.

You decided to ignore the butterflies in your stomach as best as you could. With a grin, you turned to meet his calm eyes.

"And how does it look?"

When Levi opened his mouth to answer, you grinned and interrupted.

"Ah, wait! Don't tell me. I already know it looks amazing."

Levi could only tilt his head to the side, eyebrows folded inward as he gave a tiny, closed-mouth smile. The small, energetic bursts and the ability to still be so genuine and pure in this world - that was amazing too. Where did you find the strength?

As you thanked him one more time, Levi brushed it off - refusing to let you thank him and simply stating it was nothing. When you headed for the door, Levi watched your backside. There was one more thing he needed you to know.

"I better not catch you wearing that on the field, soldier. Would be a shame if it got dirty or you lost it."

With your hand on the door handle, you froze at his words. A small hum escaped your lips, and you turned around with a smirk.

"Of course not… captain."

For whatever reason, you two stood there in silence and stared at each other. Neither one of you could bare to look away. Like a magnetic pull linked you two together. The shadows on your faces danced under the low light. That arousing, heavy feeling was in the air again, and your heart raced. Levi got this gift out of the kindness of his heart. Because he cared. A simple word of thanks didn't feel right. Not after all the years of being by his side.

Without thought, your body moved.

Levi's eyes widened when your arms flew around his neck. He stumbled once but regained footing when you buried your face in his shoulder, hugging him tightly. These moments of intimacy weren't often. In fact, you weren't sure if he was fine with a hug. If he wasn't, you'd apologize profusely. Levi stood stunned in place, really taking in the feeling of your body pressed tightly to his. After a moment more of reflection, his eyelids shut slowly when he exhaled. He dipped his chin into your shoulder, lightly placing his hands on your back to return the hug. His perfectly cut hair shading out his eyes when he moved. A few seconds passed as you held each other, and when you pulled away - Levi simply studied your face with that same taciturn expression he always bore.

As you both stood there just gazing into each other's eyes, your hands gripping his biceps and his at your waist, your eyes glittered. He looked so damn good. He always did over the years. So your brain decided to make you move without thought again.

Swiftly, you pecked him on the cheek.

His eyebrows raised slightly into his forehead, and his lips parted but Levi did not say a word. With a small heat rising to your cheeks, you calmly walked off to the door. All you wanted to do was scream and kick your feet because you had just done that, a small but innocent kiss, but you felt being tact was best. At least for now. At the door, you paused, turning to look at him with such desire.

You smiled, "Good night, Levi."

The door closed, leaving the stoic captain to brush his fingertips against the skin where your mouth landed.

The very next day was another expedition. No surprise there. Your hands tightly held the reins to your horse whilst the hundreds of others walked uniformly down the streets. A small neigh caught your attention, and you looked to the right. With this formation, you were always within eyesight of Levi - never to leave his side unless otherwise stated. You were so close - you could have easily reached out to touch his thigh so reassuringly, but you had a duty to be respectable first and foremost.

It was only yesterday night, but scanning his face made you wonder if he had thoughts of the little gifts exchanged - a necklace and a kiss. It was just a small one! You couldn't fathom going overboard, so the cheek was subtle and friendly enough. This was silly though. Of course Levi probably didn't have time to think about that now. Just like yesterday, your hand darted to the space right underneath the neck - only to be greeted by the necklace this time. From underneath your cape, you grabbed the feather pendant between your thumb and forefinger.

"Hey."

You twitched and turned to meet Levi's eyes.

"What did I say about wearing that?"

Embarrassment was written all over your face. So you spent a while studying him, Levi looking more and more pissed with every second you kept him waiting. Before long, a small smirk appeared at your lips.

"Sorry, captain. I just can't do that. You see… someone really special gave me this. It means everything to me."

Levi's eyes widened.

With a call of Erwin's voice in the background, the horses sprang forth in a run out onto the field beyond the walls. A cheeky, closed-mouth grin, and you tucked the necklace back under your shirt. Within a second, your expression changed to a more serious one, and your eyes darted ahead in focus. No time to think about this bold, little remark any longer - no matter how much you wanted to see Levi's face. Hopefully, he wasn't mad. Because most of all, how dare you so openly defy his command.

Insubordination.

Levi smirked.

He'd deal with you later.

Privately, of course.

[onyourhyuck]

Animal Instinct. | NCT SERIES

Title: CHAPTER 1 ‘The Untamed.’

— Prologue: “When the sun sets meet me at my apartment, if you dare.”

— Summary: You are a marine biologist. You should be able to understand animals and their way of living. When you encounter a new society in a bar under the name ‘Sour Grapes’ you find yourself in a troubling situation with seven different men. Seven different animals.

— Genre: Smut with plot. Minors dni. Fantasy with modern timeline. Female!reader. Secondary genders (but with animals) dreamies are complete red flags. Dub-con. Everything is very dark romance related. Nothing here is for the weak. Everything is just pure filth. It gets progressively worse and worse. Multiple orgasms. Overstimulation. Pet names such as ‘my pretty whore’ or ‘princess’ — minor hair pulling, Fingering (female receiving). Creampie, cumming inside / no protection please use a condom.

— Notes: I APOLOGISE FOR TAKING SO LONG. BUT HERE IT IS. MORE FREQUENT UPDATES COMING UP.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

One thing you love about yourself is that your work basically shapes your entire routine. You love walking inside your laboratory seeing the animals in the tanks you have to take care of and examine. This included various important research that no one should know. It is highly top secret. A simple leak of what you collect samples from the sea or other animal biology from biomes and journals you keep could really be a mess for you.

Working on separating the two and three sides of the samples you have listed from the deep oceans all throughout different sights. You felt a hand approaching behind you quickly.

The man taps your shoulders when you’re so busy working with the test tubes. “Hey Y/n mind giving me—” you jump and turn around with a fright.

“Seriously Johnny! I told you not to sneak up on me like this. Especially when I’m working with these highly reactive test tubes.” You scowled at your coworker, Johnny Suh. He was one of your friends and coworkers. Wearing a white cloak and round black glasses on.

He was a handsome fella. Very charming and handsome you have to admit it. Johnny can be professional but he could also be quite a mood maker in such a serious profession.

Laughing at your unusual behaviour, you’re never this jumpy when you are working but he probably assumes he scared you to death. “What got you so anxious Y/n? You never get scared when i do this.” Johnny raised an eyebrow. He swore he could see your own soul leave your body.

Truth be honest ever since that night with Ningning all you are thinking about how your entire life has been a lie. Sour Grape’s has taken your mind over. No. Mark has taken your entire mind off and away from your daily routines. Everyday you’re thinking about ‘How can this be possible?’ Humans coming from other animals and not just monkeys. It’s insane information. You shouldn’t be believing this but when Jaehyun said it’s a secret; it makes you think there must be some truth to it.

No one on earth would make up such a stupid fairytale on the spot.

If you weren’t a marine biologist with side degrees of zoology you’re just the type of person to not let this slide. You want to learn more.

You want to experience the truth. You want to see if it’s the truth if they actually are who they are setting themselves to be.

Letting out soft mumbles as you close off the testing tubes, afterwards putting the collective tubes in the stirring device. “I haven’t slept well for the past few days. Sorry if i seem like I’m on the edge.”

He gave you a soft smirk leaning on the side of the table while watching you. “Oh honey you seem like you’re more than on the edge. You’re off the edge.” Your eyes make eye contact after you were done with your tasks.

Your friend trails now questioning you as you’re looking at him with a soft look that made your thoughts even worse.

“What’s on your mind, Y/n?” Johnny asked with a small smile. You shake your head, you don’t want to share something so crazy. He might think you’re actually insane, or worse, he might even think you lost your entire marbles.

“Nothing serious, John. Let’s just finish up and go home. I’m tired.” You excused yourself from the conversation to finish up. The only thing you want to do today is figure out what to eat for dinner.

Walking down the street to your favourite food truck, you decided to take your mind off whatever you were thinking for the past week or so.

You felt like your brain was just constantly going back to the same topic and it was draining truth be honest. What better way to distract yourself than to eat your favourite stir fry noddles?

Being a local customer the food truck owner gives you discounts nowadays because you were a customer for a long time. A regular at that.

“Hey I would like the usual.” You gave a smile at the owner who nodded seemingly being happy to seeing you drop by.

“I was beginning to think you’d never return, Y/n.” Said the truck owner and you gave a little smirk. “How could I not return? You make the best noodles.” Complimenting them they blushed and started making the noodles for you.

But then something flashed behind you at a fast pace. You didn’t even realise it until the figure stood overshadowed by their body remaining still as a statue.

Gawking at the menu on the side. Your eyes widen when you turned around with disbelief flashing over your lips and cheeks.

“Young man what would you like?” The owner interrupts your own lingering thoughts of shock. The voice, the sound of his breathing, everything else made you feel so small and in danger just by the presence alone of this man.

He looks back from the menu. “The original stir fry m’am.”

You did not realise you were literally staring Mark down in this moment until his face turned over to you and you quickly looked away biting your bottom lip, staring at your very own feet on the ground. You can’t believe it that Mark and you crossed paths when all you’ve been saying is how you’re going to distract yourself finally!

What was this coincidence? Fate? Destiny?

There was this expression on his face that falters when he finally acknowledges your existence. It’s like he met you before but he was trying to find out from where.

And then it hits him. You were the one with Jaehyun that one night.

The dark tone of voice strikes you like a knife behind your back if anything. “You’re that girl at the bar that one time.” Mark said to you, turning to look at you fully with his entire body now facing you.

You definitely caught the predator’s attention now with how easy you’re to read. God you hate being so readable like an open book — a very non interesting book at that.

You fake a smile, maybe if you just pretend you don’t know him he will give up speaking to you. “Oh no, I don’t attend bars. I’m… allergic to alcohol.” You cringe deep inside when you made up the most stupid excuse.

Really? Allergy? He didn’t even ask about your allergies.

Mark frowns which lead you to believe he wasn’t completely swayed by your own actions right now. You forget how much of animal instincts he must have by now. You can’t fool a tiger easily.

“You must’ve mixed me up with someone else.” You said quietly trying to make it seem more and more believable if you just keep talking.

Thankfully you were praying for your meal to arrive first beforehand he got his. The prayer was answered when you grab your plastic container smiling and thanking them. You literally dashed away but why try to run away?

Trying to out run one of the most dangerous cats you probably made the worst mistake to even show a hint of speed in your movements.

When you were to reach your destination to your car the same black towering figure stands over you. In front of you with a dark gaze.

You let out a mini gasp to be honest, you feel like your heart is being crushed by two large walls that keep on moving forward and forward until your heart and lungs collapse.

Mark sighs. “You know that I can hear your beating heart when you lie?” He said rather amused but also it was eerily like a reminiscing threat thrown at you. You stand there quivering, trembling even, and it made Mark so much more entertained than he thought he would be.

He took a step forward. The stir fry plastic box was shaking in very discreet manner in your hands. Each step he takes you took three steps backwards.

This was a new cat and mouse game you didn’t want to be playing with him at all.

“Y/n was it? Jaehyun mentioned you.” Mark said with a little more confidence now that he actually had you cornered. Now you cannot lie on the spot and try to run away from him.

It’s ridiculous. He looks and was human but in reality he’s not just entirely human is he? He’s a freaking tiger with probably the most define genetics. It’s crazy to you.

You mumble trying to get away still. There was just this instinct inside you to make excuses until you can’t anymore. “Sorry i have to go, i am extremely busy.”

Your heartbeat picked up again, Mark sighs pressing an arm around your body and now moved you to sit down at a bench in the scene. You flinch and he forced you to sit down in front of him with his dark eyes watching you. “Another lie. You must enjoy lying a lot don’t you?”

You look away. You’re watching anything but him. “What do you want from me? I swear I don’t… I don’t know anything.” You’re trying your best to make this situation just deescalate.

He grinned amused. “Well that’s also a lie.” He said sitting down next to you on the bench as your heart was racing incredibly fast. Mark thought you might die on the spot if you keep stressing yourself out.

You took a little breath when he sat down next to you which seemed a little less nerve wrecking.

Eventually your heart calmed down when the silence overtook you both. Mark makes a quick glance over at you again, and he continues to speak when he waited for your nerves to sort themselves out.

You sigh. “I didn’t know you liked this place.” You tried to make a conversation as well but you weren’t sure how well he will respond to it.

Heck you don’t know this guy at all.

“I like it. I’m a regular here.” Mark said with a smirk and he moves a bit closer to you now, he opens up his plastic box of stir fry and starts to eat it with the plastic fork you’d get at a restaurant or other food trucks.

You saw him eating and you slowly shift to open your stir fry. But to be honest you’re too scared to even eat in front of him. You’re trying to act normal though. So you take a piece and ate slowly your own food along with Mark. The man kept watching you even though he ate. But you’re avoiding to even acknowledge him so much.

“Y/n do i scare you?” He was quite blunt and upfront. You flinched when he mentions the exact words you’re feeling.

You awkwardly chuckle and put down the fork. “Is it that obvious?”

Mark scoffs a bit. “You didn’t try to hide it.” He leans away and ate some more, you felt a bit less scared and now more guilty. Now that you think about it he seems like a normal guy now.

“Sorry. What Jaehyun said to me that night at the bar messed with my brain.” You admit it, which made the man next to you smirk. “You know I’m human as well. But I do admit it was fun seeing you trembling.” There was a sense of eeriness in his words but at the same time you were watching him.

He admitted to you that watching you embarrass yourself in front of him was a thrilling show but you decided to just not respond to it.

You didn’t even know what to say back anyways.

“So… are you actually…” your voice trails off unable to think of how to say this. How do you even phrase this?

Mark saw your expression like it was the most readable thing he has ever laid eyes on. He leans forward putting the plastic box down. “Part Tiger?” He spoke those words right out of your throat. You bite your inner cheek nodding.

“Is it true?” You asked with your eyes widen.

He grinned and stands up, putting hands in the front jean pockets he then turns around to you rather amused by your curiosity.

Has no one ever told you that curiosity killed the cat? You’re like a small, tiny cat who can’t keep their nose out of something that wasn’t their business.

It felt rather authentic for you though. Most people are just nosey but you seem to be curious because you want to discover something new.

And that is exactly what Mark likes about you. Your intentions are something he hasn’t seen before. Leaning forward he writes something on the paper and passed it to you, with the same hand you saw the large metal ring with the tiger engraved on it. Grabbing the piece of paper you look cautiously from the paper towards Mark’s dark gaze.

“When the sun sets meet me at my apartment, if you dare.” He said to you simply.

Just like a tiger he caught you by surprise with how sharp his tone of voice was full of silky seriousness. And then he disappeared into thin air as well. You only looked away for a second just for Mark to be gone in front of you.

Leaving you questioning if you should take the bait and go to his apartment even though that sounds like some kind of messed up plan.

For once you were dreading the sun setting. Getting out of your car you look back at the paper in your hand and then your eyes fall back on the complex building in the front.

The address that brought you to this place makes you both anxious and excited. You have many running thoughts on your journey going inside. Every single muscle contraction meant you were growing close and closer to danger.

Slipping your hand over the doorknob you didn’t even knock, the door opened up with the man revealing in front of you.

Mark heard you from a mile away. He knew you’d come and he was right when you stood in front of him with a stunned look.

You really do make him feel like he’s hunting you down.

“Come on in Y/n, I don’t bite.” Mark smirked seeing your hesitation as your eyes peek inside the apartment before your whole body walks in. Mark closed the door after you fully enter.

There was a lack of trust between you two but for some you are wanting to trust this man. You don’t know why but you know one thing for sure; he has bland furniture. All neutral colours and very modern in his apartment.

You tread carefully and put your purse bag down on the couch nearby as you stand in middle of his apartment. Your gaze follows where Mark was on the wall leaning one side of his shoulders on it, the muscular arms crossed together and the lower body curved towards the right side.

Breathing hitching you feel it becoming a round ball in your throat. “So Mark will you admit that what I know is true?”

You came for the truth only. But to Mark he wanted more from you than just to give you a simple truth. He wanted to take a taste of something much better than any truth could provide him or to you.

The body slips off the wall approaching you slowly while his gaze was rather intense and playful while watching you.

“I don’t think I can prove anything verbally to you.” Mark whispers gaining a closer look at your face and the natural scent of your body blending in with the morning coffee you drank as well as your floral perfume; creating this intoxicating sensation in the nasal passages. Mark could crawl to you just by the smell of your own skin.

Hands slowly moving to your waist pulling you closer by an inch your feet trotting forward in little steps towards his body. “But I can show you how a tiger has it’s fun?” He smirks brushing the hot breath escaping from his mouth down to your neckline, while his large eyes are watching you keenly to see your reaction for approval.

Goosebumps evoked on your skin when the tiniest touch of his fingers kneading on your waist bringing you closer to him made you fall into this trance; a trap in other words you’re not escaping a primal animal’s desire at all.

He lifts his head only a little, waiting for your lips to give him consent or a sign of any sorts. But you seemed to stunned and even timid.

The reasoning of you coming to his apartment wasn’t to sleep with him. But the idea of sleeping with someone as magnetic and attractive as him clouds your judgemental. You’re a smart woman you know that and even Mark knows it; you know your stuff. But you certainly look tempted by the invitation.

The only thing you could think about was how badly you want to kiss his lips in that moment. Swiftly you press your hands up to his jawline and pull him in with a sudden kiss when your decision was made finally. Your sudden lips and the taste of them lingering in the air stunned the tiger but you soon felt his hands clawing at your hips lifting you up with his arm muscles — bringing forward your body against a nearby wall as your mouths clashed like two boulders in action. Fighting for something you would like to say is survival; survival of the fittest.

Grunting at the smallest thing, Mark enjoyed hearing them a lot, even the clawing he did down your back and to cup your round ass made you grind up against his body in a friction. Your reactions were what made Mark’s instincts going up the roof. The inner animal was raging from just how much you do this to him. You look ethereal and vulnerable.

Your tongues are tied like a knot together constantly trying to go back and forth only to end up pushing and pulsing instead. Your hair was a mess from just the heated makeout with the man who did not show you a signal mercy.

Running your hands through his hair was probably the most difficult thing for him. Mark’s sensitive area was always his hair and head in general.

You wonder if it’s because tigers in general have sensitive ears; in fact all cats have that trait. It just made your mind run free whenever your fingers cross over his hair. He always lets out soft noises between the heavy parting kisses with your red feverous mouth.

Deciding that the wall won’t be enough for him or for you in that matter. Mark lifted you again this time turning only a small swift left to the bedroom the door opens enough to keep you in and throw you on top of his bed. Watching your body sink on the mattress wasn’t as satisfying as your arms pulling him on top with your lips connecting again for another passionate kiss.

Your voice sounds like music to his ears, Mark could never get tired of hearing your own heart racing and pounding against your chest either. It might be his favourite sound afterall this time.

“Fuck — Mark, hold on.” You adjust yourself on the bed when his hands slipped over your shirt unbuttoned it down along with your lowering clothing slipping it to your ankles. Mark did not know a single vocabulary word about slowing down. He was an animal. Animals don’t wait they just do whatever they want. Whenever it suits them. Your words were pointless to Mark.

He gave you a look when your hands press on his biceps. You needed a moment to calm your heart otherwise you would feel like this whole moment will not be savoured enough.

Leaning in he gave you a gentle peck instead on your lips. Mark tried to slow down to your liking. Holding himself back was hard when you look like this in your underwear and bra only. With your skin on skin contact too.

“Please.” You whisper. “You really don’t hold back.” You chuckled a little bit. Mark grinned softly at your reaction.

Humming he slowly took off his shirt. “Didn’t Jaehyun already tell you?” He sighs and your gaze looks up at Mark when he mentioned another name. “I don’t settle down for anyone.” Mark mumbles connecting back to your close body again when the shirt fell down on the bedroom floor.

He doesn’t settle for anyone so there is no reason for Mark to slow down for anyone. Mark goes fast for everyone and everything.

Your eyes are glued together as one. Your heart skips a beat when Mark was simply staring at you but it felt like he was chasing you across the jungle if anything.

Seeing your stare he had a feeling you might be thinking about your second options. Mark pressed forward to you.

“You still have the option to leave sweetheart, because I won’t give you this choice afterwards anymore.” He slants his fingers down your forearms and your eyes lift up staring into his own deadly irises.

You breathily sigh. “No I don’t want to leave.” You tell him with a determined look and you press your lips on the side of his neck kissing down to his defined collarbones.

Mark chuckled at your amusing response. You don’t want to run away yet you’re the one who told him to slow down?

“Alright. Don’t blame me for what’s about to happen next.” Mark’s voice was dark and low, everything that had been attracting you to him all along. You couldn’t wait until Mark kissed you again, you’re craving for more and more.

You don’t even know what you’re craving; is it the dangerous thrill? Or is it the fact that there was this biological element that keeps your hormones growing more complex.

Whatever it was your thoughts shatter down like a glass on the ground shredded to pieces creating a map of what you’d call your scattering thoughts. The heat forming underneath the pawing motions of the hands threading your body like a needle, grabbing your perky breasts. Hearing out your grasps and manhandling you into the mattress to a position of what his desires are. You’re nothing more than a rag doll. In this scenario you didn’t know what else to think. You were caving for more.

Escaping grasps when the rough grain fingers rub down to your revealing womanhood. His yellow-ish sharp eyes glow by the excessive amount of excitement. Your insides were much mild to his fingers. But they manage to heat your insides up so much faster. When he pumps them up and down your eyes were trying to squeeze shut.

Mark didn’t want to look away from your precious eyes when he was pumping his fingers inside your pussy walls. He wanted to watch you cry out. To him if you weren’t shouting to the top of your lungs then he did not do a good job. And Mark values his ego and pride of pleasuring women he takes to bed. You need to have a good time, your pleasure means so much more than his own.

And that’s the type of man Mark is. He focuses on you as much as he can. There was a sense of addiction towards you. Mark loved smelling your increasing scent on his bedsheets that you’re sprawled across looking like a desperate prey begging for mercy, but deep down you want so much more. With those aching teary eyes Mark knew you were close to a climax.

But did his hands stop? No. Mark didn’t care if you’re close to cumming. Mark will make you cum thrice if he wants too.

By the next few minutes you’re not sure what’s happened but your mind was fogging out between the lines. The bed sheets were leaking by your juices and Mark’s hand and your pussy were only an inch away from one another. His fingers were so deeply embedded inside of you it’s causing your voice to come out like a strain meld.

“Oh fuck… fuck… Mark I think I came already.” You said the obvious not knowing that was his intention all along. To make you release so much you’re starting to lose train of consciousness.

The tiger smirks fondly by your answer. Mark stretching your pussy out so much just so you can be able to fit him later on.

Pulling out his fingers out of your hole he licks them across his plum lips while gaze on your eyes. There was not much space between you two; your breathes are touching.

“You taste so sweet, Y/n.” Mark deems it. Pulling apart the boxers fell on the bedroom floor and he pulled your ankles down so your legs are spread round the hips.

You’re gawking at the sight of his thick glory shown towards your face. You’re not sure what else to say because your expression said it all.

Mark sultry chuckles watching you was seriously amusing. You don’t try to hide your expression with your widen little eyes. “What is it? Did i leave you speechless already?”

Though it sounds cocky. Which it probably was. Mark had a good reasoning to sound like a complete womanising douche.

He was thick. Thicker than anything you’ve seen before. You’re unsure what to say but you cannot argue with him either. He did leave you speechless. It was embarrassing for you.

Mark took your token of silence so he leans his face closer to give you a peck on your lips. He whispers down to your shoulders aligning his face with it. In a way this was to comfort you.

“Don’t worry Y/n. We aren’t finished just yet.” Breathily into your skin Mark buried the nose on the collarbone as the shape of Mark enters your pussy walls this time it was stretched with a slight burning angle that caused your whole body to tremble by itself. Holding on to the bedsheets underneath your body you feel like you’re floating by how just the tip touching at your velvety skin you’re reacting so much to it. This wasn’t usual. You’ve not experienced something like that before.

It’s nothing like the previous times you’ve slept with a guy before. It’s nothing like that.

In this case it feels like you’re fighting for your life but at the same time you’re submitting to yourself knowing Mark was the powerful one here. The one in charge of the moment. The variable that will never change is Mark. In a sick twisted way you like this. You like becoming the prey. The way you’re underneath Mark as he is thrusting you like a wild in-domestic beast, it’s what you’ve been craving all this time. The thrill of it.

For once you’ve forgotten all about biology. You’ve became it instead. Maybe you’re starting to finally understand how it feels to be stepped on by someone stronger than you. For once in your life that is.

Mark couldn’t get enough of you however. It’s the way your dark hair is floating like strands of ribbons on his bed sheets that smell of you now. He knew that once you are finished it is mostly likely to return to normal life. You’ll probably never hear from him. Or he might never hear from you on that matter — but those bed sheets will have your lingering smell and he doesn’t think he will change them for a while. You’re addictive. Strangely Mark has never been this compatible before with just anyone.

It’s crazy how a simple “come to my apartment” leads to you actually having sex later on. But you didn’t care how easy it seemed. You were enjoying it far too much to worry about the consequences. Mark was far too lost between the creeks of your neckline and the collarbones, his thinly pressed tongue sucks across your beautiful canvas. Your moans are starting to resemble poetry to his ears. As if you were all he wants to listen to on hours end.

The tiger felt every inch of your insides clenching with awe around his shape. It was the way you wrap around so easily. Your arms do the same thing. They wrap around his body and cling onto him forever. Mark wouldn’t have it any other way.

Your eyes only part ajar like a door does only to see yellowish sparkles of phenomenal beauty spreading across the bedroom. Widening at the sight you felt like you’re hallucinating. But when you’ve looked at the man above you thrusting you seen exactly a pair of two golden Iris’ staring down at you with nothing behind those eyes but lust.

It felt as if every muscle in his body extended to his original position when Mark grunts the bottom lip pierced to his fangs. “Oh yes, keeping looking at me like that. Such a pretty whore you are.”

Cheeks grows out in awe when Mark brushed over his fingers into your hair only to press you even more into the mattress digging his clock so deep in your insides you’ve lost knowledge of how far you could last. By now it’s been far too long. Your body’s overdrive is now overheating like a computer would — yet Mark shows no sign of slowing.

Even the way his voice stood still like the sea breeze. You’re at a loss of words.

Pulling at your hair slightly Mark decided to make you sit up a little so he could rearrange the speed of his thrusts to become quicker and sharper. Which only made you gasp audibly loud when you’re held in this position for so long. Your brain begins to fog once again.

Mark groans besides your shoulders, carving his teeth marks all over your body. You’re starting to look like a butchered meat eaten alive by him.

His eyes shift close. “Fuck… that’s it… now take it all Y/n.” You’re starting to see some slowing down when Mark unleashed the folds between your pussy walls. You’re starting to give up the moment Mark leaves you to the brim; looking full and plum like he wanted you in the state.

Eutrophic state of being overdriven by an animal, was all you’re able to process.

Breathing heavily into your skin you’re closing your eyes only a little, but everytime you do that you wanted to drift off to sleep. Eventually you’re wondering if you are asleep because all you see is black with a faded out voice I’m the background calling your name all over again.

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By the morning you’re awaken by your own fine reflection of how much your body actually endured last night.

Your lips part away staring at the front. Teeth marks scattering from top to bottom. You look like a whole different person compared to when you stepped a foot into this apartment.

Your eyes dart around the bedroom putting on your clothes that were left on the floor. You had to make yourself presentable at least once in your life because right now — you feel and look completely out of place. Brushing your hands into your hair messily brushing it out any knots. Then you open the bedroom door and step out. You’re met with a smell of eggs frying in a pan.

Following the scent you’re now approaching the shoulders of a man. Short sleeve tight shirt on flexing out muscles while wearing an apron. You’re filled with some form of happiness when you see that food is being cooked.

You mumble with a groaning stomach already. “Morning. What are you cooking?”

The man turned around with a little smirk seeing you’re already dressed and awake. Mark was expecting you to be knocked out a little longer. At first he thought you died on him last night. You’ve suddenly out of nowhere blanked out. But it turns out you were due in need of much sleep.

Mark pressed the eggs out of the pan and onto the plates. Your eyes following where his muscular arms extend out the plate towards you. You took a seat down on the chair by the kitchen aisle counter. He pressed a smile.

“Eggs and some toast. It’s the best I can do.” Mark announces.

You smiled and grabbed a fork. “It’s fine I’d eat anything anyone makes me.” You wish you could’ve shut your mouth when you said that though, because you maybe held your expectations high for Mark. He cannot cook eggs for the love of God.

The smile drops on your face instantly and you clear your voice a little when you’re sending a gaze back at Mark. You take a bite of the half burnt — nearly black at the bottom scrambled eggs. How do you burn eggs? You’ve got no possible human explanation for this sorcery.

For someone who is made to be a perfect stone with no hard edges; Mark can’t cook.

You might of found Mark’s first flaw.

You trail off mumbling. “Maybe I should cook next time?” Nonetheless you eat it all without a complaint. But you had to jokingly point o it out to Mark. You’re an honest woman. You couldn’t lie to him. It might feed his delusional ego.

Mark scoffs a little and chuckles at the end. “Good idea, Y/n. I can handle the other eggs.” You nearly choked on your chewing. But before you could say anything to him he was walking out of the kitchen area with that giddy smirk on his face as if he’s proud for saying something as outrageous as that.

“I’ll be in the shower!” Mark announces without a care that you’re probably as red as an apple.

You shake your head in disbelief and trail off a little laugh. You have a feeling this might weirdly be the most calming morning you’ve had. You go back to eating your scrambled egg wondering what else you will expect…

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@onyourhyuck please refer from translating copyrighting and plagiarising my work thank you!! Reblog and Follow me for more smuts like this!!

[sillymilie]

Charles Leclerc smut

In which you and your boyfriend get into an argument but then quickly realize how much you both care for each other Warnings: argument, yelling, morning sex, moaning, clit rubbing, hard sex

You and Charles started fighting once you got back home, and it all happened because of a stupid argument. You both know you hadn't gotten much sleep lately because of work. Charles was traveling and you were accompanying him like you always have. You were busy with deals and offers from companies since you were a model. Every chance you had to sleep, you took it. Your boyfriend knew how bad the 'lack of sleep' situation was and so did you.

"You're always like this!" You yelled at Charles, taking off your coat and placing it harshly on the coat hanger, throwing your house and car keys somewhere you didn't acknowledge of.

"Oh yeah? Like what?!" Charles raised his voice, not bothering to take his jacket off and following you close behind. His tone was aggressive and you didn't like it, but so was yours.

"You keep putting everything on me! I'm tired of it! You never stop throwing things at me as if you were the only one exhausted of work! Well guess what? I'm tired too, Charles!" You sighed and stopped yelling. You let yourself fall onto the couch, exhausted from all the fighting. Charles' eyebrows were furrowed and his eyes were intense. He stared at you, putting his hands on his hips. You looked back at him, hesitant about whether or not you should talk again, but he started speaking.

"Oh, (Y/N), mon amour I'm so sorry."(my love) Charles was almost whispering now. His face became soft as he set himself besides you on the couch. He sighed and blinked slowly, just like you did.

You didn't say anything in return. The sickening feeling of being tired took over you. After you closed your eyes, Charles didn't say anything. He knew how tired you already were and he felt awful for what he had done. Your boyfriend didn't mean any of this. He was as tired as you. When you were about to drift to sleep, you felt yourself get lifted up, a strong presence surrounding you. It didn't awake you though. Charles carefully set you down on the bed you shared and he took your shoes off. He then placed you under the blankets, locked the front door, turned the lights off and joined you in bed shortly afterwards.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ꒰ঌ ♡ ໒꒱ ⊹ ࣪ ˖

The sound of birds chirping slowly woke you up. The natural beaming light coming from outside blinded you a little. You turned your head away and rubbed your eyelids. It took you multiple tries to get your eyes to fully open.

You looked to your left and there was Charles, close to you, his hand resting on your hip. He looked so damn good you just wanted to leave kisses all over his face.

After finally having a decent amount of sleep, you felt much better compared to the previous days. You were sure Charles would feel the same once he'd wake up. From what had happened last night, talking about the fight wouldn't be very pleasing. Of course, your boyfriend would always hear what you have to say first and then add something to get rid of the bad energy that filled the room. But not this time.

"Bébé," (Baby) Charles said, grunting because he'd just woken up. You looked at him and his eyes were still closed, but he pulled you closer to him.

"Hi, good morning." You said with a small smile on your face as you admired him. Your boyfriend didn't respond. Instead he opened his eyes, deeply looking into yours.

"Good morning." He finally answered, grabbing your face and kissing you. You kissed him back immediately, feeling the negative tension from yesterday between you two fade away.

Charles' touch made you weak. Although you knew what he wanted in this specific moment, nothing was said from you. His hands trailed over your side, then down to your thighs, lightly squeezing them as he gave your neck hickeys. Charles was on top of you, gazing at your lips in need. You cooperated, wanting this as much as he did. He was only wearing his boxers while you still had your clothes on from yesterday. Your boyfriend made sure to undress you, quickly but carefully.

"Babe, just do it." You complained, knowing he was teasing you in so many ways. It killed you.

"How bad do you want it? Hm?" Charles moaned into your ear, his breath shaking as his hard dick was pressing onto your core.

"Too bad. Please, Charles." You practically begged for him to stop teasing and start making love to you.

"I love you." He said, his head in the crook of your neck as he entered you slowly and passionately. You let out a moan, feeling his dick into you. He felt so good.

Charles let you adjust to his size, making sounds come out of your mouth. It wasn't easy for your boyfriend either. His eyes were shut as he kissed your neck, his hand making it's way to your clit. Charles was good, too good even. From the very beginning of your relationship, he knew how to please you and make you feel better each time you had sex with him.

He rubbed your clit in a circular motion, feeling your tight pussy clench around his cock. Charles moaned too, which made you even more horny than you already were. His pace got quicker as he continued to rub your clit and make you moan. Your hands were around his back, your nails digging into his skin. Charles loved the feeling of it. He was obsessed with how you left marks on him from the pleasure he gave you.

"I'm close Charles-" You whined, your legs starting to shake.

"Me too. Fuck, you feel too good mon ange." (my angel)

Charles' was slamming into you, hard and fast. He rubbed your clit faster, causing you to let go of his back and grab the bedsheets tightly with your fists. As the both of you moaned, you came at the same time, the two hot cums blending perfectly together. Charles was sweating from the intense sex, and your legs were still shaking from the intensity of it all.

"Je t'aime tellement mon amour." (I love you so much my love) Your boyfriend whispered in your ear, kissing your soft lips as he was still inside you. You couldn't answer yet and he knew that.

Once you recovered more, Charles pulled out of you and let himself fall besides you on the bed. Heavy breathing was heard inside the room. You were tired after such an amazing and hard moment.

"We should clean ourselves up. Come on, let's take a shower." Charles said as he grabbed your hands and helped you get up. He turned the hot water on to the perfect temperature and grabbed two towels for when you'd be done with cleaning up.

[netherfeildren]

Pink : Part III : Two

Series Masterlist : Part I : Part II

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader

Content Warnings: Heavy angst; DD/lg dynamics; Dom/sub undertones; Daddy Kink; Jealousy; Unprotected Sex; Creampie; Inappropriate shaving; Squirting; Belly bulge; Dirty talk; Orgasm delay/denial; Overstimulation; Face slapping; Spanking; Light degradation; Rough sex; Breeding kink; Divorce; Not safe to read if triggered by pregnancy; Use of misogynistic language; Discussions of mental and emotional abuse; Cliffhanger

A/N: All tags have been updated.

Word Count: 12.7K

Rating: Explicit 18+

Read on AO3

Ko-fi

3. Two

“You know that feeling of… of realizing you’re a good person? It’s like– yes, I know objectively that I probably am. That I try to be kind, I try to do things that are good and right, but you know those strangely self perceptive moments where another person makes you – forces you – to realize you’re good? And it brings your whole life, your whole self into clarity, and it’s like – I am good, and I deserve good things. I am good.

But he treated me so badly, for so long. He took away pieces of me, he took away that awareness of goodness. And how could I not believe him, when he constantly told me and showed me that I deserved so little, when it was what I accepted for myself? Constantly waiting for him to turn into a man he never was, never had been and never would be. I accepted those things for myself, I let them happen. Maybe I was weak or stupid or naive or all of them combined. Maybe I was just a girl. But I thought it was hope at the time. I thought I was being hopeful and good, and now I realize that was no true form of goodness. It was only the version of good he needed me to be, a subservient and silent type of goodness.”

“And you know, I had a neighbor who– her husband died last year at Christmas, and it was so sad. They were older, always together, it was… it has nothing to do with this, but I don’t know. It was like when a tragedy is soft and quiet, and it just folds into the rest of life unheeded. Such a strange thing for someone on the outside looking in. I lived next door to them, and I’d see them all the time living their lives together, and I barely knew them, but suddenly he was gone, and I was conscious of the fact that she was over there alone all the time now. Without him. When before he’d always been there. I don’t know what I'm trying to say. It’s just that it didn't happen to me, it affected me in no way, and yet, I felt her loss keenly. Afterwards, I helped her with her cat, an old skinny thing, Jazz. She started going out of town a lot after her husband died, getting out and away, you know, that sort of thing. And I’d cat sit for her, and he was so sweet. But he was old too, and a few months later, he died also. And I remember the week he was going to pass she’d texted me and said he’d go soon, and I told her I was praying for him, thinking of the both of them. I don’t even pray, but I needed to tell her I was with her in some way. And it was nothing, a few nights going over there to feed the old boy, a few text messages. It was the absolute bare minimum I could do, but a few weeks after the cat died, she wrote me the loveliest note. She told me that she appreciated me, that she thought of how kind I’d been during those days, when I’d told her I was thinking of them. She told me that I was a good person, and that she hoped my kindness was returned to me many times over. 

And I’d forgotten, you see, I'd forgotten that I was good. That I had a capacity for goodness within me, and that I deserved to be reminded of it, like all soft creatures are. We all need reassurance and a kind word sometimes, and I’d forgotten that about myself.” You glance up at his eyes, the most tender look held in them. “Do you know what I mean, Joel?” You ask, voice very small, shy and afraid, for one moment, that he won’t understand you. 

But he pets your hair, cradles your cheek, “Yeah, honey. I think I do know.”

It’s a terrifying ordeal, the way the two of you fold into each other in the weeks after that first night. And yet, unstoppable. You do try, and you’re sure he does, as well. The first few days, trying to stay away, not answering his calls, no texts because he says his fingers are too big, and he can’t work those tiny fuckin’ buttons, forcing yourself not to run back over there into his arms and his bed. But then he’s calling and calling and calling, begging, making it his turn to show up at your doorstep in the middle of the night, saying all the right things like, I haven’t been sleeping, and I need to see you, and I’m suffering, I’m suffering without you, touching you in all the right ways that should be wrong but aren’t. All baby, I hurt when I’m not inside this sweet pussy. He says you make him weak, and you tell him that the only weak thing here is you, and you don’t make it much of a struggle for him when you let him in your home, in your cunt, when all you can say is I miss you, I miss you, your cock, your hands, I can’t stop thinking about you. The two of you are one and the same in all the ways it counts. And he’s not your father-in-law anymore, a chameleon now in the form of the only man who’s ever understood you, wanted you, seen you as more, as a complexity. 

He makes you wonder how you could have ever thought of yourself as anything like sexless when all he makes you is hungry and desperate and wet. Fucking everywhere you can, as often as you can, never being very careful, pulling out and counting your cycle and starting out with a condom but ripping it off halfway through because I just have to feel you – irresponsible bullshit. Not having your head screwed on tightly enough to even really care. He has you on his living room floor one afternoon, whole day gone away on his cock, and the two of you lay there for hours afterwards, bare limbs wrapped around each other, soft, wet cock tucked safely inside of you where he says it belongs. “How could you have not been angry?” You ask him because you can’t help yourself. Because you want him to teach you to be wise now that he’s shown you how to be good. “That he was kept from you? That you missed an entire lifetime of being a father? I never once saw you furious or resentful. How did you do it?”

“Don’t know,” he sighs. “Dunno… I– It was, kind of, the worst thing anyone’s ever done to me, truth be told, but I didn’t have a chance to compute, to sit in any sort of anger. He was right there all of a sudden, too full of anger to leave any left over for me, and he needed me so much. He needs me so much.” And you know he’s right, and there should be guilt now, gnawing at you, but there is really only jealousy. “And he– he…” A swallow, like you can read his mind, you know what he’ll say, already nodding. “And he hates me,” he whispers into the quiet of this lovely home he’s made for himself, his words mixing with the butter yellow ray of sunshine the two of you are lying in, slanting in through the big bay window. “He hates me, hates who I am. That it’s me he found when he came lookin’.” You have to cry for him then, maybe even for the both of them, maybe even for all three of you. 

“Yes,” you choke, so full of sadness for the tragedy of it all. You can’t comfort him with a denial for you’re not a liar here with him. Protection like that isn’t necessary. 

“Don’t cry, sweetheart.” He hugs you so tightly, “There’s no reason to cry.”

“I can’t help it,” And return the words he’d given you once when you’d so badly needed a kindness, “You deserve more.”

He’s quiet for a long time after that, and you know him well enough now that you can hear the gears of his mind working and turning, and that makes you even sadder, perhaps, the greatest tragedy of all, this knowing, and eventually he says: “And yet, he is the son I have.” And at the end of it all, you think you are all only yourselves, and nothing can really be done about that. 

And you say you want to be wise like him, that it’s your next lesson, so perhaps you should hold your tongue instead of saying: “He only just got you back, and I’m taking you away from him again. Because that’s what I want – I want to take you away and keep you only for myself. I want you to be only mine and that makes me bad. I’m bad.” Your first lesson quashed beneath the fist of your greed for a man who isn’t for you, and who you shouldn’t want, and it’s wrong and maybe even sinful or disgusting or any and all the things that are always bad. None of that matters. He’s turned you into a real person now, none of the rest of it matters. 

But he understands, because of course he does, because he always has. He grips your jaw in his hands, large, strong hands, hands made for taking care of things, and tells you, not so wise seeming anymore: “Sometimes I look at myself, and it’s like I'm two feet tall. Why didn’t I meet you sooner? First? How could I have been such a coward to not go out there and search for you? I should have known you were out there, I should have sensed it. How can a man be jealous of his own son?” He turns you over then, cock hard and thrusting again, kisses you full on the mouth, and it tastes like ownership, and says, “You could never be bad. No matter what you did. You’re only ever good. Haven’t I taught you that?” 

-

“Joel, there’s someone at the door,” peeking into the restroom where he’s just stepped out of the shower, wet and steaming, shaking his head out like a dog, towel covering all the fun bits. He’d just had you too many times already, and still, you want more. You’re made of nothing but greed now; he’s taught you how to be good, but he’s also taught you how to be greedy. You’d been strewn across his couch, eating chips and wearing his clothes and leaking his come and waiting for him to finish in the shower and come out to make dinner. He was doing steaks on the grill and baked potatoes with all the fixings and roasted vegetables, and he’d even gotten a pie and ice cream, but he said he wasn’t telling you what the flavor was, only that it was your favorite, and you can’t think how he’d know you love rhubarb, but if that’s what he’s gotten, you were going to let him do anything to you. Literally anything he wanted. Not that you didn’t already… but still, it’s the sentiment that counts, you think. He’d also said you weren’t allowed to shower, that the rule tonight was that you weren’t allowed to wash him off, and you really didn’t mind that so much. So there you were, after he’d put on Stepmom for you, and you were just thinking that Julia Roberts was surely the most beautiful woman who’d ever been born, when someone had knocked on the door, a rhythmic, friendly: tap, tap, tap, that had your heart dropping down into your stomach, and you scurrying into the master bath to frantically tell him that someone is here while you’re here wearing him all over and inside of you and what are you going to do now? He gives you a calm smile, running the towel over his wet head, giving you an eyeful of the fun bits now, and you try and not peek, you really do, but it’s really just the most exciting part on him, you can’t help yourself. His smile turns knowing, that look in his eye, “S’alright, sweetheart. Don’t fret, I’ll get it.”

“But–” you try and protest, maybe he should just pretend not to be home. What if it’s– you can’t even think of it. But then no, he’d not come here. He hates coming to this house, the proof of everything he wasn’t all in his face like this was humiliating for your ex-husband. 

His smile remains, but his eyes go a little stern, “No worryin’, I’ll take care of it.” He tugs on his jeans, the man literally never wears underwear, slut, and tugs on a shirt, pressing a kiss to your forehead as he passes you, hand dragging over your belly, smelling of soap and Joel and want, want, want. You follow him on tip toes down the hall, pausing at the mouth of the living room, chewing on your lip and your fingers, about to spit your heart out with nerves as he pulls the door open. 

“Hi, Joel, honey. How’s it goin’?” Pretty, bubbly, overly friendly voice you were definitely not expecting. You take a small step forward, the mouth of the hall slightly to the left of the front door so that you can see her without her seeing you, watch his profile as he talks to her. Edie, he says, and that dishwasher givin’ you trouble again, and laughs at her reply, the sound of their conversation going out of your ears as you watch him, head falling sideways on your neck a little bit, the way he laughs at whatever the woman that’s come knocking on the door of his home all friendly and comfortable to interrupt his time with you is saying, loud, bellyfull, one arm braced against the doorframe so that you can see her eyes flit every few seconds to the thick bulge of muscle there. Your face goes hot, your insides green and bitter, but he’s laughing just handsomely enough that you know it’s not real. You know his real laugh, and it isn’t this one. The woman leans forward, blonde hair and big boobs and batting lashes, but Joel shifts backwards subtly, keeping a respectful distance, and your pulse throbs at the backs of your knees and the pit of your stomach. She likes him, she’s here because she likes him, asking him to look at her dishwasher or something, yeah, sure, sure that’s the only thing she wants looked at. 

“I’ll come take a look at it tomorrow. How ‘bout that? I’m sure it’ll be another quick fix like last time, but you should probably think about just replacin’ the thing at this point,'' he tells her. 

“Oh, can’t you now, Joel?” She pouts, “It’s just that–”

“I’m tied up tonight, Edie,” he cuts her off, an indulgent, too charming smile on his face, and oh, it pisses you off, that smile. You turn on your heel, stomping down the hall back to his bedroom. Huffing, gnashing your teeth. The sight of him with another woman, a more appropriate woman because of course she is, it makes you sick, angry, something terrible, so, so jealous your bones itch beneath the surface of your skin. It makes you small and slanted again, wrong place, wrong time, wrong girl. Not for him, never for him, and it’s so unfair, and he is so– so… Smiling at her like that, using that tone of voice, propping up his stupid huge arm like that so that his muscle’s all defined and put on display, and you hate him and the way he makes you feel and how much you want and need him. On the verge of tears or screaming or vomiting you scramble around his room, trying to collect your clothes and your strewn panties and where the fuck is your bra and your other shoe? 

“What’re you doin’?” Comes his soft, steady voice a moment later. Entirely too even for the way you feel right now. You want to hiss at him or bite him or do something entirely uncivilized. 

“I have to go home.”

“Why?”

“I have something to do. I forgot.”

“Something, what? What do you have to do?” But you ignore him, rifling through the strewn clothes on the armchair in the corner – where the hell is your goddamn bra? “Look at me–” he barks, now having stepped further into the bedroom. 

“Oh, fuck off,” and there’s a part of you that knows that you’re being irrational, that he’s done nothing wrong, but you feel so provoked suddenly. In need of a fight or a thrashing or something, something to make this terrible feeling poisoning you on the inside go away. 

“Watch your mouth, little girl,” and his voice is so calm and so quiet and so scary. It makes you lock up one second, spin around the next to spit and hiss at him like an angry cat. You will not watch your mouth. “She wants you.” You almost stomp your foot like a child throwing a fit, but he’s entirely still and silent, taking you in with the most unfathomable of looks. “Do you know that?” And this time you do stomp your foot. “Do you want her back?”

He blinks once, and then like a lightbulb turning on, even though you’re obvious as daylight, “You’re jealous.”

“Do you want her back?” You ask again, real tears in your voice this time. 

And his gaze goes soft and tender and entirely understanding, “Never.” He shakes his head. 

“She looked like a fucking idiot.” You pout, childish – how will he ever want you when you act like this?

“I only want you.” But you don’t believe him. How could you? When there’s nowhere for this to go. When he deserves so much more than the options afforded to him here between the two of you. And you want to fight with him because there’s nothing to be done, no choices, no other recourse, and it’s not his fault and there’s no one to blame and no outlet for this terrible anger inside of you. You feel like you’re choking on it, being swallowed whole, that head breaking water feeling reversed so that now you’re deep at the bottom of the well of your own wanting. You turn back to the fruitless search for your bra. He’s hidden it from you, you’re sure, some evil old man ploy to keep you here trapped and braless with him. “Did you hear me? I only want you,” he says again, voice closer now.

And you think you’re mumbling or crying, something hysterical bubbling up inside of you, I have to go, I have to go, your movements manic and jerking. He grips your arm, jerking you around into his chest, face flushed with anger now, but voice still even, “You’re not fucking listening to me. I only want you,” and yanks your hand to feel the hard cock trapped beneath the confines of his jeans. This is only for you. But it’s not, not in any real way, not in a way that would let you keep him and that realization sets something off inside of you. You thrash in his hold, let me go, let me go, trying to kick him in the shins while he tries to wrap his arms around your struggling form, that rumbling chant constant in your ear, I only want you, I only want you, I am only for you. It feels like he’s burrowing beneath your skin, unzipping you, splaying your insides wide open for his gaze, taking hold of your bones, a puppet on his string. You manage to yank your arm out from beneath his grip and unthinking, a buzzing so high pitched it makes you dizzy and nauseous sounding in your ears, you slap him in the face. Not very hard, maybe, but enough that you hear the crack of your palm meeting the grizzled scruff of his cheek. The sound like a bone snapping, setting off something inside both of you even worse, more frenzied than before. He groans deep in his chest, big hand fisting in your hair and jerking it back so hard you yelp in pain. “Hit me again, do it again. I want you any way I can have you, even angry. Do it again,” he goads you on, but that mindless hand is fisted in his shirtfront now, pulling you closer to him, tear stained mouth seeking his, opening to receive his filthy kiss. 

“I’m sorry,” you cry, but all he says is that he only wants you, again and again, grips you harder, makes it hurt more, and you whine and whimper and scratch and bite, a wild thing, the two of you caught up in some strange struggle of push and pull and want and fight. You can feel the hard length of his cock grinding against your belly, searching for something hot and wet to fuck into, and you hitch your knee around his hip, open yourself to him, listen to his groan in your ear, throaty and full. 

“You just need a little remindin’? Don’t you, huh?” He tugs your head back, none too gentle, to look at your tear slicked face, his eyes on fire, almost a little manic. He spins you away from him, shoving you towards the bed, ignoring your whines and protests, shut up and bend over, pushing you over the edge of the bed and crouching down behind you. “You just need a little remindin’ of how to be a good girl. I know that’s all this fightin’ is. Right, baby?” No, you try and struggle, kicking your leg out uselessly to the side, but he pins you with your arms back behind you at the small of your waist, pushing his shirt up your back to expose the naked curve of your ass and the pussy you know he’ll find humiliatingly wet and hungry for him. “Just need remindin’ of how to be a good girl for me, right?” His fingers slide down to the apex of your thighs, finding you dripping and swollen from his earlier use and your current desire, all twisted up and compounded ten fold with your jealousy. 

“So wet already for me, baby,” he coos at you. 

And oh, he’s so annoying, and you’re so embarrassing and weak for him. “Shut up, old man,” you whine. A single finger enters you slowly, rubbing up against all the terribly sensitive and swollen places inside of you, then pulls his wet fingers from you to deliver a single stinging swat to the curve of your ass, sticky wet imprint of yourself left behind. 

“Yeah, and this old man fucks you better than anyone else,” he slips his fingers gently back inside of you, “Remember that you little whore,” he says even more gently. The words make you twist and writhe, a terrible flush of lust burning through you. He feels you tighten around his fingers, groans appreciatively. “Oh, you like that, don’t you?” He twists his fingers inside of you, pressing hard against something that makes you feel like you’re about to wet yourself. You cry out, squeezing your eyes shut and shaking your head, refusing to answer. “No lyin’. You daddy’s little whore?”

“Nuh uh,” you shake your head, your hips moving with the rhythm of his thrusting fingers. He brushes his thumb slowly over your pulsing clit, plays you like a game. 

“No?” His voice is so soft, so teasing. 

“I’m not your whore–”

“You’re not? Then what are you, baby? Tell me.”

You’re right there, so close, about to come on his fingers. “I'm your baby. I'm your baby. I’m yours– I belong to you, daddy.” He pulls his fingers from your cunt, hand coming to grip your ass cheek so hard it hurts, fingernails digging into your soft skin, dragging down the smooth surface. You can hear him panting behind you, shaking, trying to control himself. He makes a gruff, rough sound in his throat, gentles his grip on you. 

“You don’t think I don’t get fucking jealous?” he spits when he’s finally managed to control himself. “You think I don't think about you with my own son and want to die? That he got to have you in a way I never will, and even worse, wasted you? You don’t think it makes me sick with envy?” He brings his fingers back to play in your wet folds, feels the slick drip of you, thrums at your clit, opening you to him with a hand on your cheek and licking you from clit to asshole. Running the flat expanse of his tongue over the length of your sex and then sucking hard at the apex of nerves, hard enough that you can’t tell if it hurts or feels good or a little bit of both. He’s got you bent over the end of his bed facing the dresser so that you have a clear view of the two of you in the mirror above it. And the sight of him, massive frame crouched down behind you, huge and hulking, face buried in your cunt from behind, the curved slope of his nose, the long, thick lashes, eyes closed like he’s enjoying himself more than he’s ever enjoyed anything else in his entire life as he licks your ass and sucks on your clit. He pulls back, and you watch, almost in slow motion, as he shocks you by swatting your entire sex with his big hand, and then immediately brings his face back to lick and kiss your smarting skin. “But he didn’t fuck you the way you needed to be fucked,” he continues. “And I do. He didn’t understand you, but I do. At least I have that.” It sounds like he’s consoling himself, and you can’t help but find consolation in it as well. Your eyes move up to your own reflection, sweat slicked and tear stained, eyes glassy, wet fingers inside of your mouth because you need something to chew on to stand the terrible throbbing in your cunt on the verge of coming. He licks you again, presses his tongue to your asshole. “Did you ever get wet for him like this?” He pulls back, runs the pads of his fingers over your clit in fast, hard up and down motions, makes it feel so good it hurts, you’re right there, you’re right there, pulls away. “Were you ever desperate for him like this? Cunt all drippy and swollen and pathetic for him like you are for me, my sweet baby?”

Never, daddy. Never. Only you. You can’t lie to him when he’s got his tongue inside of you, it’s just not possible. Only me. Only mine. You press up on your tippy toes, roll back down onto the balls of your feet, “Yeah, rub that sweet pussy all over daddy’s face,” he mumbles into your skin, slurps at you. He wraps his lips around your clit once more, sucks and licks and sucks again, and your cunt goes so, so tight, I’m gonna come, I’m gonna come, daddy, and then just stops. Pulls away entirely, gets to his feet, leaves you to throb and shiver and beg, whole body flashing hot and cold on the precipice of orgasm. Still holding you pinned in place with your wrists at the small of your back, you watch his eyes roam along your draped form, he drags his hand down the wet length of his face, wiping the drippiness of your slick away. “Stay just like that for me,” and his eyes move to yours in the mirror, as if he’s known the entire time just how riveted on him you’d been. “What?” He asks with a crooked brow and a mean little smirk. “You think you get to come? After that little display?”

“Don’t be mean,” you whisper, staying exactly as he’d directed. Trying your best to be a good girl. 

“Shoulda thought of that before, sweet girl.” He bends over the length of you so you’re eye to eye now, gets his face right up close to yours and presses a kiss to the tip of your nose. “You wanna pretend to fight, stand there like an indignant little girl stomping your foot and yellin’ about bein’ jealous while my come runs down your thighs still. Obviously, I’m not doin’ a good enough job of remindin’ you you’re mine, how much I want you. Gonna fix that now.” Presses another soft kiss to your mouth now. 

“You’re trying to dominate me,” you whine, struggling to press against his mouth again even as he pulls back out of your reach, plants a big palm between your shoulders to keep you still. 

“You bet your fuckin’ ass I am. You’re gonna do what I tell you to when you’re letting me fill you with my come the way you are. And you’re gonna like it too. You get me?”

“Yes, daddy.”

But then he goes serious, that teasing glint in his eyes flickering away suddenly. “You have nothing to be jealous of. Ever. I don’t want anyone but you. I don’t care about anything else but this.” And even though you’re sure it must be a lie, it sounds so lovely, you choose to believe him for now. You nod up at him, sniffling and crying again a little bit. “And no one takes care of you like I do,” he finally says, as if it’s a reminder, a consolation to the both of you once again. 

And he’s right, as he tells you to stay put, be a good girl and not move, leaves you there bent over the bed, that chant sounds in your mind, no one takes care of you like he does, no one, no one, no one. 

-

He steps back into his bedroom to the sight of you still draped over the bed, big eyes wet and slightly vacant, pussy red and swollen and bared to him like a wound with his name on it. You’d brought your fingers up to your mouth, chewing on your fingernails the way you did sometimes when you were anxious or overwhelmed, and when your eyes flit to him, taking in the bowl of warm water, the washcloth and shaving cream in his hold, they go wide, shocked. He arranges his things, gripping you by the hips to turn you over, pulling his shirt from you, leaving you entirely naked, and settling between your spread thighs. “Wh– what are you doing?” Voice all breathy and hitched, the thrum of your excited pulse in your throat. 

“Gonna shave you bare. Then I’m gonna eat you ‘til you’re crying, ‘til you’re so swollen you can barely take my fingers. After that, I’m gonna wedge my cock inside you and fuck you ‘til you’re so full’a my come you’ll remember not to forget you ain’t got no reason to be jealous ever again.” He strokes your curls gently with the pad of his thumb, something like fondness in the gesture, clicks his tongue. “These’re so pretty. Gonna miss ‘em.”

“Oh my god,” you choke when he drapes the water warmed washcloth over your spread pussy.

“You wanna be a brat, you wanna fight and act like you don’t know I belong to you and you to me? That none of that other shit matters– I’m gonna remind you, don’t worry.”

You crane your neck, pushing up on your elbows to watch him remove the washcloth and cover the soft curls of your groin with shaving cream. When he opens the blade and brings it to your skin, the sight of the straight edged blade against you, the smooth cream as the steel reveals the bare, satin soft skin beneath, has your chest heaving, sweat pooling at the little notch of your throat –  fucking gorgeous and his.

“You’re going to be so sensitive, baby,” he murmurs as he bends your leg back and opened wide, splitting you for his gaze. Delicate with the movements of his wrist as he shaves you. “All bare and slick down here, just for me. You’re so swollen already.”

You mumble something, moaning and letting yourself flop back against the mattress, he’s quick to pull the blade from you, pausing his movements while you settle, gives you a second to press the balls of your palms into the sockets of your eyes, whining Joel and daddy and please. And the trust in this moment between the two of you, that you’re letting him wield a blade so close to your fragile center, letting him do this to you as a way to remind the both of you of the power you cede and wield over and to one another, something that gives him the opportunity to inflict his will in a way that recenters you, reminds you that you’re his, his to do with you as he will, and it’s just the two of you in this space and you trust each other implicitly, it has a sense of control swelling inside of Joel, making his cock rock hard in his jeans, leak down his thigh. Control in a way there is none of in everything else between the two of you. Control in a way there cannot exist in any other aspect of your relationship. When he’s finished, he cleans you slowly with a new warm, damp cloth, then goes to put away his supplies, and when he returns, he looms over you, taking in the sight of your little bald cunt now. 

Slowly, he starts to pull his clothes off, watching the quick panting of your breathing, the dip and swell of your belly, so aroused by the intimacy you’ve just shared that your pupils are blown wide and dark. “You’ve made such a mess, little girl,” he says, dragging a single finger through your overflowing slit, following the slick from your swollen clit to your asshole where it pools beneath. He fingers your folds gently, avoiding your swollen clit, your little hole winking at him wantonly. “Please–” you whisper so softly, almost gasping for breath you can barely get the words out. 

“Oh, I know, sweetheart. I know you need to come so bad, don’t you?” He drags his palms up and down your thighs, up to your waist and then tugs you down over the edge of the bed and onto your knees in front of him, wide eyes riveted hungry on his cock. “How does it feel? So sensitive, isn’t it?” He’s so hard his erection stands straight up towards his belly, balls hanging heavy and full and aching. He gently drags his fingers along your scalp, feels the heat emanating from your skull. “Lick it all over, get it nice and wet so I can put it inside you.” He knows he needs to be careful now. The two of you are wide open to each other in this moment, so on edge he could come just at the look in your eyes, and you, something more than just vulnerable. He’d worried briefly, in the past weeks, if he should stop, send you away, take himself away, tell you it was too much. You were getting too attached, and although he knew it was too late for himself, that he was beyond salvaging when it came to you, he could imagine nothing worse than seeing you come out hurt from this. Could also imagine no scenario in which you wouldn’t anymore. He feeds you his cock, fisted tightly at the root to stave off his impending orgasm, slides all the way to the back of your throat until he feels his tip hit resistance, enjoying the sight of you choking on it for just a second. Good girl. “Fuck– fuck, yes. See, see how good you can be for me?” He tells you as you suck on his tip, hollowing your cheeks and running your tongue all around the wide head, tonguing his foreskin, making him hiss and bear his teeth at you while you look up at him with falsely innocent eyes. He yanks you up and against him, gives you a filthy, wet kiss, all tongue and teeth and false control, swallowing down the taste of his own precum. He’s never felt less in control of himself, of a situation, than he does right now. He has, in these past weeks, entirely lost sight of himself, of what this should and should not have been, blindly led by his cock and his heart. He’s lost all control, and Joel is nothing but weakness and want now. 

Turning you in his arms, he sits at the edge of the bed, thighs spread wide and pulls you onto his lap, impaling you back onto his spit-slick cock so swiftly he doesn't even think you’re expecting it until he’s bumping against your womb, your knees hooked and spread wide over his own. Too desperate to lick your cunt again the way he’d planned. You let out a long, shocked keen, back arching, trying to escape the too big cock suddenly shoved inside of your tiny hole. Joel has to grit his teeth, take deep breaths through his nose and out through his mouth before he can speak at the feel of you fluttering and pulsing around him, “The more you whine, the harder I’ll fuck you, got it?” There’s nothing even close to a coherent response coming out of your mouth, and he was right, shaved bare like this, you’re so much more sensitive. He pulls the lips of your sex gently apart around where he’s impaling you, takes in the sight of your little hole stretched obscenely around his fat cock in the mirror’s reflection and slowly starts to seesaw his hips back and forth, watching his glossy length disappear in and out of you. “How does it feel, baby? You’re so pretty, look at yourself.” He whispers into the small shell of your ear, presses a soft kiss to the lobe, tugs on it with his teeth. He slides in all the way, pulling your hips down so that his balls press against the curve of your ass. “Look, see where daddy’s so deep inside you – can see it in your belly.” Your head lolls back on his shoulder, gaze hooded and delirious, but your hand moves down to the soft skin of your stomach, gently cupping the outline of his cock inside of you. “I’m so deep inside of your tiny cunt, baby. Look at how you’re all mine–” He starts to move again, flicking at your clit, interchanging between fast and hard and slow and so soft you can barely feel it, and your face looks like you want to say something, tell him something, scream, but can’t. And there’s so much he’d like to tell you too, all the things you deserve and probably need to hear from him, but can’t either. He feels you start to tighten up on him, the heat in your body suddenly seeming to flush higher and brighter, almost to boiling, your cunt going so, so tight it almost pushes him out. He presses inside harder, holds you in place with one hand, and thrums fast and hard at your clit with the other, focusing the tip of his cock at the front wall of your pussy, “You’re gonna come–” he grunts, holds you in place and hammers into that swollen place inside of you he’d kill to own for the rest of his life. “Fuck– fuck, you’re gonna squirt all over my cock, aren’t you? Can feel it–” Your face spasms, your belly clenching hard and tight, and you gush, letting out a pained, animal sound, voice broken and breathless, wetting both of your thighs with your come, the bed covers beneath soaked dark. Joel doesn’t stop. He wants more, again, all of you, thrums again at your clit with the pads of his fingers, changes the angle of your hips to roll you fast and hard onto his come-slicked length, pinches your clit hard, watches you squirt all over him again. Something like the sound of his name leaves your mouth in a broken cry, your chewed raw nails trying to claw at him ineffectively. “Dirty fucking girl – creamin’ all over your daddy’s cock,” his voice is gruff, not entirely his own. There’s something here – you’d told him once you’d always felt out of control. In your relationship with Sam, aware of what he was, always, of what you were and were not, and that there was something about control that was so necessary to you now. And there is something here like control, your control over him, taking hold of him entirely so he’s unsure of what it is he should and should not be, here and now, with you. He should not be delusional, he should be aware. He is not adhering to either very well. 

He goes to his feet with you still impaled on his throbbing length, erection so hard it hurts, can barely stand up straight, blood pounding on rhythm to the chant of your name. He pulls you from him, watches the slick slide of your cunt walls dragging along his length, the cream of your slick left as a reminder all over his skin. He presses you onto the bed, rolls you this way and that too look at you all over, bends to drag his tongue through that drippy cunt of yours that squirts and comes so prettily for him, then back up and kneeling above you, between your glossy thighs, and thrusting into that tight cunt, grunting as you clench around him. So hard he feels the screaming tip of his cock punch against your cervix, listens to you make a hurt, hiccupy sound when his balls slap against you.

He should be gentle. He should be careful. He should be aware, not delusional, himself. He should reach back and take hold of that man he always thought himself to be, hard and cold but never cruel. Maybe not good, but always aware and never weak. He’s none of those things now here with you. Joel is now only himself. You’ve made me into a real person, you’d whispered onto his tongue. What he’d not told you was that you’d done the same to him. 

You’re a gift, a gift, a gift, a gift. A gift in the way his son never was. A gift in the way that a whole lifetime lost and returned to him never was, and Joel is weak and two feet tall and made of paper, but for you. Anyways, or despite it all, still made only for you. 

“Fuck me like you’re in love with me,” you say, read his mind, take hold of the beating mass in his chest. Fuck me like you’re in love with me. And maybe you don’t mean it. Maybe you’re too far gone. It doesn’t matter.

He does it anyway. Pulls back, wedges back inside the too swollen, too sensitive, too tiny cunt that belongs to him. He bears his teeth at you, grabs hold of your face so hard you’ll bruise, and fucks you like he’s in love with you. It comes to him so easily, after all. 

Shoving his knees high up beneath your thighs, he brings your ankles to his shoulders, little feet knocking against his ears, he wishes for sense, he finds none, only a deeper, sharper angle. The sounds of your cries and the things you whisper in his ear he knows you should not say and he should not listen to that fill him full of things he should not feel like I was made for you and daddy, there’s no one like you and come inside me, please, please, I need it. He pulls his hips back, swings them forward, listens to the sound of his balls slap, and you beg for harder, savors the fire that pools in his belly and the base of his spine. And he thinks that he should pull out, he’s been so fucking careless with you and your future and your vulnerability, but he’s like a monster full of greed, intent on nothing but staking his claim, leaving a claim, desperate for a way to be remembered or never forgotten or never left behind. “We have to be careful,” he begs you, and feels scared and terrible for a moment, not to be trusted with a gift like this in his hands. “I’m going to get you fucking pregnant, God.”

But you’re like some siren, something taking him away from himself, and you tell him, “I don’t care, I don’t care,” voice gone so far away from yourself too, all hazy, full of bubbles and too cock drunk to be true or sane, but it lands like a gut punch anyway. And Joel tries to hold onto himself he does, he swears he does, tries to remain rational, and aware of what this was supposed to be and not supposed to be. Tells you to please, “Shut up, shut up. Please, don’t say those things to me, I’m begging you.” But eventually that siren song wins out, the feel of your cunt sucking him deeper, milking him dry, your small damp hands pulling at his hair, stubby nails dragging down the skin of his cheeks, over his back, and Joel’s weak now. Weak and full of want and greed and delusion so that all that’s left is capitulation and: “You want daddy to fuck his babies into you? You want me to fill you up and keep you forever?” But something of himself must remain because he covers your mouth, big hand wrapped around your sweaty little face before you can answer, forcing the words silent inside of your mouth, the truth you both know you’d spit out otherwise. Yes, yes, I do. And as if the idea of you carrying his child held a direct like to your orgasm, you start to come around him, overwhelmed cunt, split in two and carved in the shape of his name now, clenching around him, going so wet and hot and tight Joel’s sure he’ll never be able to leave it ever again. You reach down between the two of you, grasp the half of his cock outside of your wet clutch, shiny with your slick and jack him off with sharp little tugs, make sure he fills you with his spend full to the brim. He spills over and out, dribbles down the slope of your ass to leave you lying in a little puddle of his semen, and when he pulls out, careful to not ask you to hold all of his weight over you, he brings your fingers to your gaping cunt, “Feel where daddy’s been,” lets you play in the imprint of himself he’s left behind. 

He lays beside you, steaming hot little thing worming up against him, nuzzling beneath his chin, pressing tiny kisses that tell him all the things the both of you need to hear and say, and he feels himself go cool and dry inside and out. Something terrible suddenly swelling within him. Something that reeks of truth, and you must smell it in the air as well because you share a piece of your own painful honesty with him, force him to confront it. “Sometimes I think I’m impossible to love,” in the smallest voice he’s surely ever heard. 

“Haven’t I shown you how untrue that is?” Because if there’s one thing he’ll never do with you, it’s lie.

You tuck your hand beneath your cheek, and you glow, and he feels blinded by it for a moment, eyes wide and so vulnerably tender, something afraid that makes something equally vulnerable inside of him rage and beat its chest. “Is that what this is? Are we in love, Joel?”

He thinks you must see the fear in his eyes, because yours suddenly go calm, fathomless, something steady for him to hold on to, and that stench of honesty chokes him. “Yeah–” he nods, swallows, thinks of his son, hates himself. “I think so, baby.”

-

What can remain the same after honesty like that? After splitting yourself open and showing each other your insides in such a way? What could possibly remain the same? Nothing. The truth is laid bare, and all that’s left now. And instead of setting you free, the truth never really sets you free, it makes everything terribly fraught and frightened and fragile. 

When he moves to stand, the sound of your desperation for him to make you his in an irreversible way rings like exploding shrapnel in your ears, “Do you think we’re bad?” You ask because you’ve only ever wanted to be good, but his eyes are so haunted, large and round and fathomless. His face, taking on a sudden sort of gauntness as he thinks of what to say to you after the worst has already been said. You watch the line of his throat ripple as he swallows several times, reading the real truth in his eyes before he shakes his head slowly, incongruous like a lie, “Never you,” and he does not include himself, “Never you.” It’s devastating. Devastating that the only thing that’s ever mattered, the thing that has finally made you good, is bad in his eyes. 

You sit at the kitchen table, watching him while he makes dinner for you. Cold and shivery and wet between your legs in a way that’s not comfortable anymore. In a way that feels like an essential part of you is slowly dripping out, leaving you grossly empty inside. The beautiful dinner he’d bought and made for you tastes like ash wrapped in all the honesty surrounding the two of you, and you stare at each other and there's no need for more words because the truth is all right here in front of the two of you to see with your own two eyes. You want to go get dressed, but you don’t want to call attention to the seed of wrongness that’s been planted now. Are we in love? When the answer had so obviously been yes for so long already. Naive, silly girl. And you want to be angry with him. Ask him why he’d done this to you, made you fall in love with him when he’d said before that you couldn’t, when it was all so hopeless. You also want to hear him say it, say the words out loud with teeth and tongue and sound, you want to taste the words in your mouth because seeing them in his eyes wrapped in all that hopelessness isn’t nearly enough to satiate this hunger he’s stoked inside of you. You want to ask him to hold you, to crawl into his lap and have him cradle you like a child protected in the embrace of stronger, wiser arms. You want to have never been put on this path, to have never met his son, never have married him, never have met him. You want the whole terrible ordeal to be wiped from mind and mouth and memory. You want to have not had to accept it all, not have moved on, not be grateful in ways you can’t even understand for the lesson it’d all posed. You want it all to have never happened. To never have experienced the entire convoluted mess of feelings this ordeal of tearing down your entire life to make yourself anew had caused. To have never fallen in love with your ex-husbands father. 

He sits in his chair, hands cupping his chin for so long, silent and staring, probably wondering what to do with you, and when he finally stands, nothing but a long, pained sigh to interrupt the terrible silence, you finally muster the strength to go find that missing bra. Crawl home, once again a ghoul in the night in need of wound licking. And it must be that very same terrible silence, the even more terrible look in his eyes that has something pressurized, set to burst, bottled inside of you because when a knock on the door sounds once again, you don’t even stop for half a thought, exploding suddenly. In his clothes and come, ripping the door open, the words on your tongue ready to spit at her that he’s already got one desperate woman on his hands that needs taking care of, and no, he will not be fixing her dishwasher or her pussy or anything else she thinks she might need him for. 

But it’s not the neighbor. And you have nothing but fear lodged in your throat to spit out when you meet his eyes. 

Eyes like his father’s, colder, crueler, furious and humiliated, take you in. Just fucked hair and a flannel that’s not your own, mis-buttoned, come-dryed thighs. And worst of all, his voice, like he isn’t even that surprised, like he’d come here just to find this, “You fucking whore.”

“Sam–” you’re not sure if you actually say his name, but the intention is held there, on the tip of your tongue. A plea for mercy or a shout for help or protection or something. 

“You fucking whore,” and you flinch at the scream in his throat, scuffle back into the safety of the house of the man you love who is the father of the man you were married to, the man who broke you, the betrayed son. He’s shocked still for a single second, before he’s charging at you, fist not entirely raised but definitely held with consideration. And, “I knew it, I always fucking knew it,” before Joel is there, stepping between you and your ex-husuband, his son, blocking you with his body, big hand wrapping entirely around your forearm to hold you close to himself, to hold you in his protection. 

“You better put your fucking arm down before I break it, son.” That moment, Joel’s voice, the utter betrayal in his son’s eyes. The sound of you breaking something that you should have never ever gotten in between. It is worse than all the rest. You take him in, the sight of this man who you used to be married to, he’d always seemed so large in your eyes before, so unattainable. Something never to be fully touched, only gazed upon. Always apart, always cold. Sam’s eyes fall to the place where his father holds you, and his face spasms, something terrible. Broken and alone, a child cast out into the cold. And you want to say that he seems so different now, haggard and gaunt and whittled down to bare bones, but it isn’t the truth. You always knew what he was, your most terrible bit of honesty. You always knew, you’d just not cared before. There was never any separation, no space for you to take a breath and want better for yourself. To be under his scrutiny, something that at one time felt like admiration, but was never anything even close, it was like nothing else, like everything, a great lie. But he was too aware of it, of himself, of that power he held over you, and unlike his father, he was cruel with it. Your eyes move up to the back of Joel’s head, the hard edge of his jaw, the muscle that spasms furiously there. What would it do to you now to be under that same sort of attention, influence, admiration, but from a kinder, gentler, honest source? What had it done to you? Dangerous to risk yourself again, impossible to stop now. 

“I always knew it,” he says again, “I always knew you wanted him. What? You let him fuck you?” The words in his mouth are a terrible thing, Joel says something, tells him to hold his tongue, to get the fuck out, but your eyes are riveted on the sight of his face, this man you used to be married to who’d broken you so completely, who’d stolen your very memory of yourself. He seems wholly unrecognizable now, and in a way, it frightens you, that someone you’d known for what seemed like so long could be such a stranger now. Joel’s hand is an anchor, such a comfort wrapped around your arm. “You barely let me touch you for two years, but you’ll bend over like a whore for my fucking Dad?” His voice breaks and it makes you want to laugh a little bit. 

Joel shoves him backward, jerking you forward still in his hold. “Say that word one more time in my house, and I won’t be held responsible for what I do to you. And don’t fucking look at her,” he snaps, reaching up to give him a quick two tapped slap on the cheek to focus his gaze on himself. “Get out, Sam. I’ll call you later. We can–”

But unheeded or too far gone, like he needs to hear the sound of the words as a comfort to himself in this moment, Sam looks back at you, “You’re a fucking whore. I wish I’d never met you, I hate you.” Joel shoves him backwards again, harder this time so that his leg slams into the side table, overturning the lamp there into a crashing heap on the floor, so hard that when he pulls you with him it feels as if he’ll wrench your shoulder from its socket with the force of his anger. You yelp in pain, but cling to him anyways, refusing to let him go either, hiding behind the hill of his shoulder. Pushing his son away, not letting you go. It’s wrong, it’s wrong and you’d told him that you wanted to keep him, to take him away from his own son, that you were made of nothing but greed, but there’s something wrong here, inherently not right, bad. 

And even yet, you can’t help the look on your face that must surely be nothing short of humiliating to Sam for the way he reddens, the little muscles in his face jerking uncontrollably. You’re done here, Sam. Get the fuck out, Joel says again, taking a step forward to herd him out, pulling you along, keeping you close. You taunt him with your gaze, can’t help yourself, “I thought I was a prude?” You say from behind the protection of his father’s body. “Isn’t that what you called me for all those years? Thought I was frigid, unfuckable, unlovable? Am I not anymore?” You ask in a small, breathy voice, falsely guileless, entirely provoking. “Have you changed your mind now that I’ve taken your Daddy from you?” False pout and mocking eyebrow.

Joel’s head snaps over his shoulder, incredulous look on his face, and Sam flinches as if struck, splintered glass in the shape of his son’s gaze, it fractures, falls back to where Joel holds you.“I wanted to talk to you,” He says to his father, “I wanted to– You’re really choosing her over me?” It costs Sam something to say this, and you weren’t expecting it either because suddenly, the game changes. His voice is child-like in its hurt, that son who longed for his father for all those years. “After everything that was stolen from us, you’re not going to choose me?” You know in that moment, he’s won. 

“This isn’t about choice, son,” Joel tells him, but you hear it for the lie it is. “This isn’t about you versus her.”

“But it is,” and his eyes flash to yours, victory held in them. “She was my wife. And you’re my father, and you have to make a choice now. This is fucking sick.” There’d always been an intelligence to his cruelty, and he wields it now. The sound of his son’s name is a choked thing in Joel’s mouth. He goes rigid, a painful stillness, muscles vibrating with warring emotions. You hold your breath for it. He looks down at where he holds you, tightens his grip painfully, and then slowly, so that the three of you are sure to take in the whole procession of it, he lets go of your arm. One finger at a time, the heat of his palm leaving you, and you’re alone. 

“It isn’t about choice,” he says again, and yet, one has already been made. You stand still, head bent, gaze riveted on the place where he’d let you go. He takes a step away from you, towards his son, and his voice is low and gentle and soothing now, and you’re still staring at the barrenness of your arm.

I had such potential to be good, you think. He just never saw it. But you don’t know who you mean. And you don’t think it matters anymore. 

They say more to each other. Joel’s hand on his son’s arm now, pushing him towards the door, but still, still comforting for the thing it symbolizes, a benediction of choice, and you turn around to face the other side of the room. You can’t look – wrapping your arms around yourself. You don’t think you’ll run this time. Face it head on, let it be over now in full. Sam’s voice rings shrill, the sound of your name and curses and accusations, fighting a futile fight against his father’s even baritone, the sound of the slamming door, and then silence. When you turn back over your shoulder, they’ve stepped outside together, leaving you alone inside the house. 

He’d asked you once what you wanted, and you can’t fathom what the point of it had been. What does it matter what I want? That’s the least significant thing here. It always was. 

When he finally comes back inside, you’re dressed, lost bra retrieved, your bag packed and sitting at your feet. You’d gone into the kitchen just before, taken a peek at the pie, and you were right, and you don’t know how he could have possibly known, but he’d gotten you rhubarb. Your face is dry now, no tears and no will to cry. There’s nothing to speak of in his gaze when he leans back against the door to look at you, swallowing down words you’re sure will mean nothing in the face of all of this. And you look at him and you love him and you think, I was married to a man once and now I’m not and now I’m with his father and I love him in the way I never loved the son; and so now, I must ask myself, am I merely looking for the love of lesser man, who could have never given me what I needed, in the eyes of a man who seems to have all the answers? 

You don’t think so. And yet, there are still no answers to be had, and no questions left to ask. 

“I’m going this time,” In case he has designs to force you to stay, and even though there’s a light of acceptance in his eyes, he still shakes his head. Swallows and gathers his seams about himself before he says, “You aren’t leaving me,” gaze churning from warry to flinty to resolved. 

“I was never supposed to stay at all. I was never supposed to be for you. You said so yourself– you said we couldn’t fall in love. That I wasn't for you.” You get to your feet, pulling your purse over your shoulder, and he rushes towards you, pushing the bag back down to the floor, taking your face in his hands hard, something like panic in his eyes and in the air and in the vibration of his voice.

“It doesn’t matter, none of that matters– Whatever was before, whatever was in the past doesn’t mean shit when it’s just you and me here together–” And you’re crying now, real, great sobs of grief. 

“You were the one that said we couldn’t fall in love,” you cry again, try and pull away, but he holds you to himself, squeezes you against him, shivers like he too is crying, burying his face in your shoulder. 

“I was a fucking idiot, a damn liar. There was never any other option, baby.” Most terrible of terrible truths, you’d both known if for the lie it was the moment he’d said it, even before, probably. You stand limply in the circle of his embrace. He’d said once that he’d been a coward not to go out and look for you, but you know the opposite is true. No one is more of a coward than you were for not having waited for him. For having been so desperate for love, you’d been willing to settle for the wrong kind. You’ll never be able to settle for false comfort like that again, and it’s all his fault. “You’ve ruined me now. I’m ruined.”

He pulls back to take your face in his hands again, and you were right, he is crying. “I’m ruined! And I need you to give me another chance. I demand another chance– to… to fix this. To–”

But another chance for what? To change what? “He’s your son, and I only want you to be happy.” And you know he couldn’t ever be happy, truly happy, estranged from his only child. After all, like he’d said, the theft of him had been the worst thing ever done. You wouldn’t commit a crime like that against Joel also, never. 

“Baby, please, I think… I– I love–”

“Please–” You press the tips of your fingers to his mouth, silencing him. “Please, don’t do this to me now.” It makes you angry, this intent of his to trap you here with his love when there’s no room for you to stay. You turn away, picking up your bag again, but he snatches you back into himself, wrapping his big arms around your waist, crushing you against his chest. And you’d struggle if you could, but there’s so little fight left in you. “You’re the one that said – you said we couldn’t!”

“I know what I fucking said,” he spits, voice so angry it almost frightens you. “But there’s still– We have to talk, we have to–”

“What can you possibly imagine there’s left to say?”

“Everything.”

“Or nothing.”

“Look at me. Look at me–” He pulls your head back and to the side by your chin. There’s a bright flush sitting high on his cheekbones, and his eyes shift quickly back and forth between yours, searching for a way to fix this. To fix the good thing that’s now been broken. His thumb strokes the point of your chin softly, and he presses his mouth slowly to yours, eyes open to watch for your reaction. “This wasn’t a mistake,” he tells you, “We weren’t a mistake.” Weren’t. The final nail in the coffin. “I know, I know that there are so many things– that we can’t… but just– just stand here with me for one minute, please. Just give me one more second, and I’ll–”

He doesn’t finish the thought, and you let him kiss you one last time. And when he pulls back, because it doesn’t feel like it really matters, and because you just want to hear the sound of it coming out of your mouth, because you wish it was true and not the complete opposite, because you want to be as cruel and ugly outside as you feel on the inside, you whisper, “I hate you,” a full bodied lie. 

His eyes shutter and flicker for a moment, a wash of hurt suffusing them. But because he’s never been a weak man and because he’s always been honest, and he’s always, always above everything else, been good, he says, “And I love you,” and there it is. You’d thought you wanted to hear the sound of that too, but now that you have, it’s more terrible than you could have ever possibly imagined. And after that, there really is nothing left to say. 

-

Joel goes to see his brother afterwards because it’s what he always does and who he always goes to when he’s lost. When a son in the shape of a man made of nothing but childish fear and anger and hurt, had appeared one day, dropped out of the blue sky, onto his front porch, when he realized he wanted his daughter-in-law in a way no good man should. And now, that he’s admitted, because the realization had already been there, swift and uncompromising, the admittance had been all that was left, the hard going part, that he was in love with you – in love with the woman who had been married to his son, here he finds himself again. Lost and weak and two feet tall, made of nothing but hollow bones. “I’m not myself,” he tells Tommy, and then amends the lie because he’s not come here to tell lies. “She’s made me into someone I don’t recognize and wish I could be forever.” How would he get his old self back now? Impossible. You’d taken him away with you, he was only half made now, half man, half strength. And Tommy is understanding because it has always only been the two of them, and he’s always seen Joel for exactly who he is without judgement. The most honest eyes in the whole world, his brother. “I'm afraid that she’s the love of my life. I’m afraid that I’m not really so afraid at all. And she won’t even talk to me.” You’d left his house a week and a day ago, and Joel was going out of his mind, losing pieces of himself along the way, his sanity, his sense of right and wrong, his self restraint, self possession. He was about to do something crazy, he felt it gnawing and itching at his bones. He could barely remember the look of betrayal in his own son’s eyes amidst the madness of the memory of the hurt in yours, the sight of you walking away from him. “And my son. My son, my child, Tommy, he hates me. And I’m in love with the woman he used to be married to, who he hurt. And he’s a cruel and small man, and he needs me. He needs my help, and I have a responsibility to him. But Tommy– Tommy, I love her. She’s mine. And what am I going to do? What am I going to say to him? How will I ever face him again? She’s mine, and I– I can’t explain it, I can’t excuse it. But she’s mine– she’s my woman. She belongs to me. I know this as well as I know my own name, my own face.”

And his brother, his brother, his brother who always understands him, who always stands beside him, he claps him on the shoulder and says, “If anyone can find a way, Joel, it’s you. I know you can. You’re stronger and smarter than anyone I’ve ever known. And you don’t abandon yours.” And so Joel must believe him because Tommy is his brother, and he knows him, and he knows that even though he’s weak now, even if he must let himself be weak now, in the face of all of this, Joel is not truly a weak man where it counts. 

-

You and Sam had only ever spoken once on the topic of children. It was, from the first moment broached, a non possibility, not even half of an option. Devastating, but now, all this time later, almost like a grace from God. You’d wanted a baby so badly, more than anything in the whole world, and he would not give you one. He’d said your desire for a child was incongruous with your cold nature, how frigid you were. 

And you’d been so long, caught in the who am I, in the what am I doing. You never stopped to ask why. Molded into a bad shape, but mute and deaf to the intricacies of what had carved you so. You’d needed to destroy yourself entirely, tear down everything around yourself, and then recreate yourself and everything else in your life in a new image. Perhaps, then, you’d finally have the chance to be good.

Your husband’s father had given you this. Joel had given you this. 

And Joel, Joel, Joel, Joel. How to tell him that you’re sorry? That you’re vile and cruel and yes, even cold sometimes, but for him, for him you can find it in yourself to be soft, something to be forgiven, you hope. His son had called you a prude, and then, his father’s whore. Did it matter what the truth was? You weren’t so sure. Did you want Joel because you were a whore? Because your own father had never loved you, and you were thus desperate to fill that void left by lesser, crueler men? Did it matter? You hated the idea that this desire for him had to have been born by consequence of another man. What about what you wanted? What about the fact that it felt good when he was inside of you? When he gave it to you rough and hard and when he told you that you belonged to him because you did, because it was the truth. What about the fact that you were in love with him? That should have counted more because you said it counted more. And then that was it, nothing more to the thing of it. So what if he was the father of the man who’d been your husband? The man who’d stolen all of your surety, your passion, yourself. Sometimes, retribution feels fucking good. So what about it? And then, and after all, you were in love with him. So what did it all matter after that? 

People liked to say that sometimes a bad thing is worth it if it feels good enough. But what if you didn't think it was bad at all, and what if it didn’t just feel good enough? What if it’s actually everything, the best thing you’d ever had in your whole life? And what if it is simply and solely, or maybe even also, who cares, who cares, what if it is simply because it’s Joel? Joel who is beautiful and strong and good. Maybe even perfect in a way that you need. 

He’d told you once that he’d never had the chance to be angry, that it had been stolen from him, the worst thing ever done to me, he’d said. You know that you could never do that to him. Never hurt him in that way. And there might be so many options. Choices. Truths. Yourself. Finally, you are only yourself. Good in the way he’d shown you to be. In a way that did not bow to anything but the sort of goodness you needed. But Joel; above all else, Joel. He is the first choice, and everything else seems inconsequential after that. What is goodness worth in the face of all he’s given you? 

So, you sit now, within the basin of your empty bathtub, no more leaky kitchen sink echoing through your empty apartment, he’d fixed it weeks ago, and peer over the lip of the tub. And there, blinking up at you from the face of the skinny pink and white stick, is your answer to goodness. It had always been within yourself. And you think, if it must be just the two of us now, then let it. After all, your father has finally taught me how to be good. 

End.

Netherfeildren's Masterlist

Updates Blog!

[ryker-writes]

To add more angst to your Sibling Vil headcanons, what's if the reader is the one who overblots instead of Vil, after he basically ruins their confidence and realizes Vil has some resentment toward them? Revealing in their overblot form that they never even wanted to be famous and only did it for Vil's approval

yesss the angst I live for it!

For those who didn't see the original post you can fine it here. (Let me know if link doesn't work)

Vil's broken sibling relationship (alternate ending)

when Vil did hang out with you, he would always point out some small thing about you that was out of place

even if you had everything together, he would find something to criticize

afterwards he would always make a comment about how you should be careful because your actions reflect on him and your father

sometimes he would even give you a backhanded compliment or when he was especially angry, he would straight up insult you and claim he's trying to help you

it became very clear that Vil hated you

hated how you acted and how you looked

you two used to get along

he even helped you become who you were today

when you were young, he would always help you with how to act or how to look right for all the cameras

he carefully help you and taught you back then

but now he was openly insulting you and hating you

according to Vil, you were many things

you were an idiot for not being able to understand or see the simplest things

you were naïve and stupid for not realizing that your friends only liked you because of your fame

you were annoying

you were lazy

you were ugly

your own brother said all this to you

the only person you thought you could truly rely on, hated you

maybe he was right about you

maybe all those things were true

everyone else probably say you like that

now it was so much easier to pay attention to all the negative publicity you got

Vil was right

you wish it wasn't him that said it, but he was right

it's safe to say that your confidence wasn't doing too great lately

and as you walked through the school halls, it felt like everyone was watching you with criticizing eyes

like they were just waiting for you to embarrass yourself

and when you did, they would be watching, recording, and laughing

so lost in your own thoughts, you weren't paying much attention to where you were going

and you ran into him

your dear brother who hated everything about you

of course, he started criticizing you again

and in front of everyone

"Looks like you're even worse than I thought if you can't even pay attention to where you're walking. You look more unsightly today than usual. You really can't get anything right can you?"

the students around you two started whispering, some even snickered

they were talking about you

you could just tell

it was too much

everything they were saying was too much

you couldn't be here

not with them, not with Vil

you backed away from Vil with tears in your eyes

and you looked directly at him

the cold and uncaring expression clear on his face

thinking back on it, did he ever even care?

was he only ever helping you because your father was forcing you two to be in the spotlight

did he only help you because he couldn't be seen next to someone so hideous?

how horrible it all was

your life, your image, your thoughts, you

for just one moment you wished they would all stop talking, stop talking about you

without even thinking you sent one spell, a simple spell, in Vil's general direction

and that was enough

enough for the air to suddenly feel so thin and an overwhelming sense of dread flooded through you

the world seemed darker

like someone had dimmed everything down

but the whispers got louder and louder until it turned into shouting

they all hated you

it was clear

you just had to accept and give in

Vil was right

you could feel liquid running down your cheeks

reaching up, you went to wipe away the tears

but when you pulled your hand back, you saw black

those weren't really tears

it was blot covering your hand

and it wouldn't stop running down your cheeks like a river that never ends

it ran down your hands and even covered your arms

you could feel it run along your skin and even drip down to the ground

but none of that even mattered right now

Vil stood in front of you now looking shocked

everyone else scrambled to get away from you

of course they did

"You should be proud, Vil. They all love you, and would never run away from you."

he pulled out his magical pen

"You're even incredibly stupid when you overblot. You can't even see how much they love you more than me. They've said that you're the most beautiful. You don't even work that hard and you get amazing opportunities. Meanwhile spend every hour of every day trying to be the best."

looking down at yourself, you could see that your clothes have even changed

beautifully designed clothes were in the place of your old ones

drops of blots swirled down your clothes, and somehow made them look nicer

Vil said they called you the most beautiful, but he's also told you how ugly you were in the past

how could he suddenly change his words like that

they obviously didn't like you that much

they constantly talk and even now avoid you

it made you angry

Vil has been nothing but cruel to you

you couldn't control it

and you lashed your magic at him

he was able to dodge some of your attacks and even started attacking you

your anger just kept building up

"Are you serious? You made me like this. You helped guide me when we were younger. I never even wanted any of those roles! I never wanted to live like this!"

you sent a particularly strong attack his way and he took it full force

Vil staggered back, disheveled and wounded from the fight so far

but your attacks just kept coming and only grew in intensity

"All I ever wanted was for you to just accept me, to like me. But ever since we started growing up you've done nothing but hate me."

it was getting harder to see and hear what was happening

ink plagued all your senses

and all you felt was anger

when you next opened your eyes, everything was blurry for a second

your body felt weak and it hurt to even move

but when your vision cleared, you could see that you were in the school infirmary

and sitting next to your bed was Vil

he seemed to notice you were awake

"How are you feeling?"

despite his calm tone, Vil looked rough

still beautiful as always, but a well trained eye could see the way his hair was slightly out of place and makeup ever so slightly smudged in the corners

he had been here a while

once again you could feel water run down your cheeks

you quickly reached up to wipe it away and looked at your hands

it was actual water this time, not blot

Vil sighed and grabbed your hand

"I'm sorry."

a heavy silence hung in the air afterwards

a million things that he wanted to say

things he needed to say

but right now, he couldn't find the words

so Vil promised himself that he would be able to tell you everything and that he'd do everything he can to try to fix what both he and his father had broken

[ssahotchnerr]

heyyy! i was wondering if you could write something where the reader is part of the bau, and their favourite bracelet breaks on a case so aaron offers to fix it for them on the plane? love love love your stuff btw!!! 🫶🏻🫶🏻

the small things

instead of a bracelet i went with a necklace i hope that's alright <3 cw; nothing but fluff, aaron is down bad hehe

every day you took the chance, and you knew it was stupid.

your favorite necklace. your most prized possession. deep down you knew you shouldn't wear it in the field, but the need to have it overruled your caution.

despite being hidden behind the safety of your vest, the chain had given out, snapping amidst the rush of chasing an unsub. you were lucky your vest was so tightly pressed against your body; while it's sole purpose was to protect you from the imminent threat of danger, it's snugness prevented the necklace from slipping onto the ground unnoticed. instead, it had noticeably dropped onto the floor of the suv as you were freeing yourself afterwards.

you felt partially silly for feeling upset over it, it being such a small thing, but it held a lot of sentimental value. a day literally hadn’t gone by where you haven’t worn it.

it helped you think- rolling it between your fingers as you pondered over a difficult profile, or found yourself doing the same in times of stress. most importantly, it made you feel safe. and given your job title, you would take as much of that as you could get.

and aaron noticed.

he noticed it as you became accustomed to the team in the very beginning, every day after that, every time he talked to you. so as you all were packing up to leave the department, it wasn't hard to miss- it's absence was loud. so was the sadness in your eyes, and the strain in your voice as you casually talked to jj, trying to act as if nothing were troubling you.

it was a part of you, familiar. so he could only imagine how you currently felt.

"so," aaron started, taking the open seat to your left. you had secluded yourself from the others, giving yourself the opportunity to wallow alone on the jet ride home. "i know- it's not much, but. do you still have it? your necklace?"

you gave him an almost questionable look, but nodded a yes.

aaron's eyes were soft, trusting as always, but he still asked- needing the permission to handle something that held so much meaning to you. "may i?"

you sat up slightly from your slouched position, granting you the room to fish the necklace from your jean pocket. the broken sight of it caught you off guard again, just as the initial discovery of it's broken state did earlier in the day. you felt a tad sick to your stomach, the object being on your person, for years- more than you could count- brought down to nothing but a scrap piece of jewelry.

nonetheless, you still dropped it into his open palm.

"i thought this could work, for the meantime." aaron narrated as he reached into his suit pocket himself, obtaining a small safety pin. very carefully, he threaded the small needle through the chain, before doing the same on the opposite end. he gestured for you to turn, and you twisted in your seat upon his instruction.

his breath was warm on the back of your neck as he spoke, fastening the safety pin to a close. "again, i know it's not mu-"

"no." you shook your head, tears welling in your eyes. the necklace now hung lower on your chest than you were used to, but it was secure. and right back where it belonged.

to say the least, you were extremely touched, turning back around to face him. you were nearly speechless, finding it hard to form words. "it's perfect. thank you."

the corners of aaron's lips twitched, pulling into a smile. "i know of a good jeweler. he was haley's go-to back in the day, and i still have the number somewhere in one of her old phone books. he's an old friend, so he'll do this as a favor. you won't need to worry about a cost or anything."

your eyes softened more if it were possible. "no, hotch. i-"

"no." he threw your word right back at you, nothing but kindness in his eyes. "trust me. it's the small things, right?"

his words took you by surprise, a soft breath leaving you. suddenly, the world didn't seem as dark. "yeah, it is."

he nodded, his mouth drawing into another small smile as his eyes left yours.

"i'm sorry it broke." his words left him in a mumble, and from the solemn, regretful tone present, one would think he was at fault for your necklace breaking.

sweet man.

you clasped onto his hand, giving it a tight squeeze and causing his brown eyes to meet yours yet again. you held onto the eye contact, not allowing him to tear his gaze away. "thank you for fixing it, aaron. really."

[thatfreshi]

Greater Than This (Astarion x Reader)

Part 2 to It's Over

Tw - mentions of abuse

Recommended Song: If I'm Being Honest - Dodie

You walk around Baldur's Gate aimlessly, wondering if he'll follow you, wondering if he really meant everything he said. You didn't really mean it, when you said it was over, just something to hurt him the way he hurt you. That's the problem with you and Astarion: you can be so childish at times, always looking for an eye for an eye. Perhaps it's all you know. Maybe it was for the best, to not try and love one another, maybe you just didn't know how.

But then again, how could you sit there and let him become everything he hates? And why would he want that? Had he genuinely convinced himself it would be any different? That he wouldn't fall victim to demonic greed? Or was he truly just petrified, after centuries of being the beaten underdog? It makes your eyes water just thinking about it, the few things he had told you, the times your tadpoles connected and you were witness to atrocities you didn't know existed. It wasn't fair, but nothing is.

He's thinking about it too, the horrors of the kennels, the crypt and the taste of mold. Astarion didn't mean it when he said you were just like Cazador. In fact, he's nauseous at the thought of him even saying such a thing. But he snapped at you, and it was enough for you to say it was over. Were you being genuine? He wasn't sure, but he could very easily believe you'd want to leave him. Sure, he's so enraged, but he loves you truly. Two very hard feelings to balance. Unsure of what to do with all his scattered feelings, he finally makes his way downstairs to join the group.

"Well well, if it isn't the vampire of the hour. How ya doin' Astarion?"

Karlach gives him a slightly unwelcome pat on the back. He tries to think of some snarky thing to say, something sassy that will get a little laugh, but he can only muster up a meek sentence.

"Do you know where Tav is?"

It grips at his heart, how pathetic he felt. Gods, how could he be so angry but so sad? He knows you're often right, that you usually make better choices than him, but did you really make the right choice this time? Was he really so incredibly wrong? But still, you killed Cazador, which he had every right to do.

"They uh... they left a while ago. Seemed very upset."

Wyll takes a sip of his water afterwards, as if to avoid saying anything else.

"Guess it's a good thing I don't burn in the sun just yet."

Astarion leaves the inn, leaving your companions to speculate about the lover's quarrel. He walks around town looking for you, listening intently to all the footsteps nearby. Perhaps it was years of training himself, but he was quite good at determining whose steps were whose. You catch sight of him as you're sitting under a large oak tree, and part of you is furious. But the other part of you screams for him, begging him to notice you. He does soon enough, and he makes his way to the grassy patch beneath the leaves.

"Mind if I sit?"

You don't know what to say. Clearly he doesn't either, as he's questioning if he was even allowed to ask. Despite the confusion in the air, you pat the ground next to you.

"I don't think you're like him."

He wraps his arms under his knees.

"I know. But you still said it."

"I know. I guess I still say plenty of stupid things."

You look up at the sky, thinking about how sunny it is today.

"Did you really want to do the ritual Astarion?"

He lets out a small breath, like a tiny laugh.

"I don't know. I just wanted to feel like I meant something. I wanted to be something greater than this."

"You're already so extraordinary. I wish you could see that."

The vampire doesn't know what to say. How could he ever describe just how horrible he feels? He feels like nothing.

"Me too."

"You don't have to be some grand creature. You can just be Astarion."

"But who would ever respect that? A sad little boy, some meek vampire spawn with no master."

"I respect you."

"I didn't feel respected when you killed Cazador. You undermined me. You've never made me feel like that before, like I was less than you."

You start to cry again, putting a hand on his knee.

"I never wanted to make you feel less than, but I was so fucking scared. You were about to make a really bad decision."

"It just made me feel like you don't trust me."

"Of course I trust you, but it's easy for your view to become blinded when you're processing so much. Going back there, I know it was hard on you, and you wanted to take the easy way out, the path of least resistance."

His eyes meet yours.

"Would you be proud right now, if we were in that palace, if you had become the ascendant? Is that how you'd want to spend your days? Towering over people?"

"No. But at least no one could make me feel small again."

Astarion leans into your side, starting to let go, letting the emotions come and go.

"I know my love, I know you've been made to feel inferior your whole life, but it's over now. I won't ever let someone make you feel like that again."

"You- can't promise that."

"No, but I'll try my damnest."

You lay your head on his, and the two of you cry for a while, as strangers walk by, wondering what two adventurers are doing crying under a tree. Oh how little they know.

"You were right. To stop the ritual I mean. I think I was just angry with myself, how meek I felt."

"I still should've done it with your permission."

"You know how stubborn I am darling. I probably wouldn't have listened."

"I didn't give you a fair fight."

"Are we going to keep trading blame? Or can we just get to the part where we make up?"

You smile, wiping away a tear, and the two of you go in for a soft kiss.

"I'm sorry."

"I'm sorry too. See? Easy, we're even now."

"How do you do that? Just, realize you were wrong and move on?"

"It's easy. Or, it's easy with you at least. You don't ever get truly upset unless something matters, and you're usually more grounded than me. I get out of hand quite easily you know."

"Oh trust me, I know."

Light laughs in the sun, a static day with no breeze, just the heat beating down on the townspeople. It's not perfect. The two of you both overstepped, but you love each other enough to work through it, to try and see the other point of view, even if it's after nasty arguments. The two of you are messy, but damn do you love messy. Especially if messy is a white-haired vampire, who you get to spend the rest of your life with once the Elder Brain is gone. You see it now, a big house, and more stupid shouting matches that you'll fix shortly after. The price you pay to be two people trying to learn how to love, learning how to live, freely.

[onmyyan]

Can I get Delmont HC’s for when one of their ex flings or situationships try to get at the Delmont’s again and reader just gets sad instead of jealous ☹️

Oh this was so good my hands started typing before I could stop em!

A/N: Yandere, murder mentioned in Marcos, Manny kills someone,

Starting with OG lover boy, Cas takes your relationship very, very seriously.

Let's set the scene, the two of you are cuddled up at a work party of yours and a coworker you didn't really talk to much comes sauntering over with a smile far too friendly for your liking, it made a nasty feeling settle deep within your gut, something about her gaze lingering on the tall man by your side made you feel uncomfortable.

"Caspian? I haven't seen you in ages! How are you these days?" She'd ask completely ignoring your presence. Your eye flickered from the long legged woman to your now tense boyfriend. Caspian was almost always relaxed and happy with you, so you immediately clocked his off behavior.

"Hey Ana, been good." Was his simple, curt response, his hand moved from it's warm spot on your waist to his pant pocket, (He felt his temper instantly rise and couldn't risk hurting you so he moved his clenched fist to his pocket.) and you felt silly about it afterwards but in that moment, that small action felt like a rejection. The ugly feelings brewing in your stomach made the drink on your tongue turn bitter.

"You look amazing Cas, I see you kept up with our gym routine after all huh?" She giggled as if it was an inside joke between them, her body faced him, now closer than before, and you felt like a stranger intruding on something personal, all too quickly, you felt your throat tighten.

"It's so crazy running into you here, I was just thinking about how much fun we had together, we should go out for a drink later, maybe catch up?"

Caspian stared long and hard at the woman but your emotions were quickly spiraling out of control, you could feel your gut twist at the thought of him entertaining her, and before you could hear his response, you muttered out a barley audible "Excuse me." To the pair, quickly making your retreat to the nearest bathroom, thanking the universe that it was empty because no sooner than you closed the door did your bottom lip start to tremble.

Had you stayed you would have seen the downright murderous look on your boyfriend's face.

In his head he's trying to figure out the best way to turn her down without embarrassing you at your job, it's the only reason he doesn't notice your sudden mood shift.

He was trying to process the woman's audacity, a curt decline on the tip of his tongue, when you suddenly disappeared from his side. In an instant panic, he not so subtly shoves his way past the woman to where he thinks you went.

He uses the tracker on your phone to track you down to the bathroom and fully intended on waiting by the door until you came out, but then he heard the sound he hated most in the world, you sniffling.

Bursts in the door like there's a fire, not caring about anything but getting to you, checking you over. He ignores your gasp and hushed whispers to get out before he got in trouble, and cradles your wet face between his big hands.

"What's wrong Honey? How can I help?" He's staring at you with those big red eyes, brows furrowed in concern, and you can't help the tearful giggle you let out at his behavior.

"It's stupid-"

"If it made my baby cry it's far from stupid." He corrects immediately, thumbs wiping at any stray tears left.

"That woman- the way she spoke to you. I just, I hated how that made me feel and I don't know- I'm sorry, we can just go back to the party okay?" You turn from him to face the mirror and in an attempt to brush past what you considered an embarrassing moment, begin wiping at the smeared mascara on your eyes.

He smacks his teeth at his own idiocy, he hadn't even considered how that stupid wench made you feel in the moment, god what must be running through your mind, he couldn't imagine an ex of yours trying to ask you out in front of him, the guilt swells immediately, he wanted to run back out there and throw that harlot down the stairs for making your pretty face fall the way it had.

Instead he made his way to the bathroom door and clicked the lock in place, you turned to face him but your questions died on your tongue as he made his way towards you with that particular dark look in his eye.

"Forgive me, my love. I didn't mean to make you upset, I just didn't wanna make a scene at your job." He says casually falling to his knees before you, his hands trailing up your calves, to your thighs, finally settling on the thin fabric of your underwear, he stared up from between your legs with the softest look on his face.

"Let me make it up to you Honey."

Gabe has a much more explosive reaction

You two are at the gym, Gabe was sweating and sitting there all gorgeous and shit, he's making sure you watch as he lifts, his veins bulging in his arms as he winks at you. "Be my spotter baby I need my motivation." He grits out with that wolfish smile stretched across his flushed face.

You weren't nearly as athletic as the man and sometimes it felt as if you didn't belong in the gym, but he was quick to snuff out these thoughts, swearing up and down he preformed better on his sets when you were watching, that he needed you by his side even if you weren't working out as well.

He not only wants you around because he can't get enough of you, but he also really wants you to see him be hot, unfortunately that meant everyone at the gym got to see it too.

"I'll be right back baby, gonna go grab you a water." You smile at his immediate pout, the grabby hands he makes as he demands a goodbye kiss, even though you'd only be gone a few moments, but that's all the time the blonde woman stalking up to him needs.

The stranger to you was an old fling of Gabe's, he barely recognized her when she invited herself to his personal space like she was allowed, the only reason he didn't immediately brush her off was because she said his name, he was confused as she neared him, her smile too wide to be genuine.

the blue haired giant was the best sex of her life and despite the fact that she saw his blatant affection for you, she made her move anyway.

You came back to quite the sight, Gabe sat stiffly on the machine he was at, his elbows on his knees as he stared up at the blonde beside him, his face set in that sinfully attractive hardened stare,

The woman currently leaning too close for comfort on his machine looked like someone out of a fitness magazine, she was fit, completely toned and gorgeous, you couldn't help the twinge of discomfort at how close they were, how they looked like the perfect couple.

You neared them awkwardly as her back was to you and heard her say, "It's been too long Gabriel, I miss you, god your body is still insane, what are your benching now 250? 300. You could definitely still toss me around the bed." Her tone was dripping in flirtation, she dragged a finger up the pole of the machine he sat on, leaning down to press her chest together.

Before you could think about turning away from the upsetting sight, Gabe abruptly stood up, his glare dead set on the woman, his eyes flickered to you, immediately clocking the way your shoulders shrunk in, how you seemed to deflate at the situation, he could practically read your mind, knowing how easily your brain went to the worst places, he felt his temper skyrocket at the mere idea of you being upset by this nobody.

"Baby! I think we should end this early yeah? I got a better idea for a workout that involves you, me, and my backseat." He says almost whining as he throws his sweaty body all over you, his arms holding you tight against his body as he kissed the top of your head, rocking into the hug.

"This place just let's anybody in, we should switch to a new gym." His glare turned to the woman, if looks could kill she'd be on the ground. "C'mon ma, let's go before I get belligerent."

Ricky fully ignores the interaction lmao it's so rude

You'd come to the Auto shop with a homemade lunch for your sweet Ricky as he forgot to pack his own and called you to bring him one (he definitely did this on purpose just to see you at work)

You enter the shop and start to head straight to the back before being stopped by a manicured hand snapping in your face rather rudely.

"Hi ma'am, you can't just walk in here, you have to make an appointment." The woman behind the receptionist desk was new, you'd never seen her in here before, she was practically sneering at you, her plastic, customer service smile held no warmth as she tapped her nail against the sign in sheet impatiently.

You laughed instinctually at the tense situation, trying to dispell the awkwardness, you didn't understand her hostility, "Oh my boyfriend works here, he's expecting me." You say offering her a friendly smile, trying to smooth over any unpleasantness.

"Well I'm going to need some identification." She says matter of factly, her body now blocking your path. "uh no?" You said not wanting the stranger to see your information, you'd come to the shop hundreds of times now, everyone knew who you were, everyone but this woman it seems.

She scoffed at your refusal her voice raising in anger as she glared at you, "If you don't cooperate I'll have to call security." She threatened not knowing how deep she was digging her grave.

"My love? What's going on." Ricky's deep, baritone voice suddenly called out from around the corner, he thought it was odd you hadn't appeared yet as his tracker app said you'd arrived at his work minutes ago, it wasn't like you to delay so he listened to his gut and went outside seeing you being harassed by the new receptionist.

His blood pressure rises instantly and he has to fight to keep his hands from yanking her away from you.

He'd only signed off on her hiring because he knew she was infatuated with him, they hooked up once a few years ago and she would do anything to have it happen again, of course Ricky had no intention of fulfilling her desires, he just needed someone he knew would keep their mouth shut if they happened to see/notice something funky with the shop.

But her value immediately diminishes the second she gets in your way, his glare could melt glass as he tells her a simple, but aggressive, "Move." He holds his arms out to you and when you curl into his touch he makes a point to kiss your temple, his focus completely on you. "Are you alright love? What was she doing?" He asks tenderly rubbing your face. The receptionist opens her mouth to respond but Ricky shuts her up with a single raised hand, "She was just asking for my ID, I brought your lunch!" You say excitedly, his gaze grows warm at the adorable sight before he turns to the woman, his eyes dead, his aura dark and imposing.

"Clean out your desk immediately, I want you out of my shop before I come back out here." His tone left no room for argument, almost threatening as he places a hand in the small of your back, gently leading you away. "You didn't need to do that for me-" he cuts you off with an intense, breath stealing kiss, "Of course I did, no one interrupts our time together."

Marcos had always been afraid of his promiscuous past coming back to haunt him, and his violent reaction to this shows.

The two of you had been at a club for a while now, both proper sloshed and sweating, hours of grinding on each other to every song that came on the thumping speakers, he's in heaven with his arms around your waist, his nose buried in your neck as he mouths needy kisses up and down your throat.

You motion towards the bar, your drunk body demanding more alcohol and he begins leading you towards it, his hands never leaving your body.

He all but pushes a guy out of his seat so you can rest there while he gets the bartenders attention. He freezes when the woman turns around. The bartender shoots him a knowing, flirty grin, leans over close and yells over the pounding music, "Hey Marcos baby, you come back for more? I can take my break right now if that's the case."

His eyes flicker to you and his heart stutters at the sad look on your face, be it the copious amounts of liquor you had in your body or how just how gorgeous the woman hitting on him was, you feel your spirits drop, your mind tortured you with images of them together, of him with another, and the insecurities bubble up faster than you can handle, "scuse' me." You drunkenly mutter clasping a hand over your mouth, your stomach felt queasy all of a sudden and you all but ran to the bathroom on shakey legs.

Marcos is seeing red, his mind panicking as he watches you retreat to the bathroom he feels sick himself at the thought of you leaving him, the fear that you may be comparing yourself to such a nothing person, the terrifying thought of this insignificant person making you see him different, it had his chest heaving in a barley concealed rage.

He fixes his burning stare on the bartender, his eyes holding pure malice as he holds himself back from pressing his thumbs into her eyes and slamming her into the bar until it broke.

He says nothing to her, his eyes making her so uneasy she baked away slightly, his mouth felt dry as he pushes and bullies his way past the crowd to barge into the bathroom where he finds you curled around the toilet, he's falling to his knees beside you in an instant, he keeps your hair from your face, a soothing hand on your back as you empty your stomach.

His words are soft and encouraging as he helps you to your feet, uncaring about his expensive clothes being dirtied, uncaring of how messy you look, his eyes are full of love, even a bit teary as he helps you to the sink, as you wash your mouth out he's wetting a paper towel and dabbing the cold cloth to your burning neck, "Oh baby, my sweet girl are you okay? I'm so sorry, come here let me see you."

The moment sobers him entirely, he's calling a deluxe Uber to pick you both up and sending a message to his twin about the bartender, he wanted the bitch dead for even momentarily causing you to frown, he's holding your swaying form against him protectively as he waits for the car, his mind swirling with thoughts of violence and revenge, how dare that waste of air upset you so much? The crime would be repaid in blood.

Manny has the most volatile reaction.

The two of you are a late night, semi exclusive car show, Manny loved watching the races, he stopped racing in them the second you said you worried for his safety but his love for the adrenaline filled sport remained, the classic cars were beautiful and he always smiled so brightly when you indulged his more risky interests.

He loved pointing out the racers he liked or hated, his favorite cars and why, sharing this with you was one of his favorite ways to pass time. You always looked so beautiful under the neon lights, the smell of gasoline in the air.

It's rare for him to leave your side when you're out and about so this happens in front of you, the two of you are cuddled up together, sat comfortably on the hood of his car, his arms around you as you leaned back into his chest, when a woman in leather saunters up to his car.

"Hey Manny, long time no see pretty boy." The woman coo's from her position, her eyes drinking him in, blatantly ignoring your existence.

"Yeah." Is Manny's only response, his grip on your hips tightening before he moves from holding you against him to stepping in front of you, keeping his body between you and what he felt was a threat.

His hair moved everytime a car whizzed by him, but he didn't flinch, his cold eyes trained on the woman from his past.

His voice was clearly irritated, tone leaving no room for friendly interpretation, and yet she persisted, taking a step closer to the tall man who had begun to clench his fists, his body trembling in unfiltered rage.

"You wanna' take another ride? This time if I win, I get my prize up front." Her tone was clear, her implication made more lewd as she looked him up and down.

"Don't talk to me like you know me. Don't talk to me like you're somebody." His voice was dripping venom as he spoke, and if he wasn't furious before, the sad, almost deflated look on your face at her comments made him see red.

The crowds of people were so thick and intense, the loud sounds of the revving engines and screaming spectators only added to his slip of control.

"Relax Manny baby! I'm just teasing you." She puts her hand on his chest and before you could blink the woman's body is flying out towards the road where a car smacks into her with a sick crunch, her limp body is dragged as the car speeds along, unaware of the carnage it caused, screams and shouts of horror come from all around you, people beginning to panic as Manny turns around, all malice gone from his face as he lifts you off the car and ushers you to the passenger seat without a word. "Time to go!" He all but sings as he peels out of the parking lot.

"Holy shit are you okay?" You asked him turning back to stare as the horrifying scene grew farther and farther from his rearview mirror. He placed a shaky hand on your thigh to calm himself as he spoke, "I'm okay baby girl, are you? I'm so so sorry you had to see that." He says, his only guilt came from your date night being cut short.

"Don't be sorry baby, no one could have known that would happen Jesus Christ." You put a hand to your chest trying to ease the fierce beat, he grabbed your free hand, bringing the back of your palm to his lips for a sweet kiss, his eyes crinkling in joy at the thought of her now crumpled body.

"Yeah, accidents happen."

[touyaism]

better than him — touya todoroki

(cross posted from ao3)

wc: 5,272

content: your boyfriend cheated on you, again, and your older brother isn't pleased (or is he?)

warnings: dubcon, incest, minor voyeurism

You nearly threw your phone at the wall when you got the message.

The text was wordless, with only a single video attached from your best friend. It didn’t need an explanation; the video spoke for itself. Your boyfriend was with another girl again, even in the dull atmosphere of the club and through the bad quality of the Snapchat recording, you could make out his stupid face and the hickeys on his neck as clear as day. The taller woman was all over him, hands digging into his hair, pulling his face closer to hers, and you watched as he smiled against her, letting her do as she pleased like he had every right to do so.

You’d had enough, you opted for screaming into your pillow just to let some of the rage out. You could still hear the video blaring on your phone, the club's loud music sounding obnoxiously through the small device. Part of you wished you’d shown up to that event tonight, just so you could be there to beat his ass.

But no, instead, here you were, at eleven in the evening, screaming into your poor fluffy pillow. It felt good, sure, but you still felt like punching something (someone) afterwards. You slapped the pillow a few times, but it didn’t suffice (shocker).

You were only snapped out of your rage when someone knocked on your bedroom door.

“Hey,” Touya said, monotone and evidently fed up with your drama already. “The hell’s gotten into you?”

Your brother had weird ways of showing he cared, even though he would never admit to it. And more often than not, he wouldn’t take no for an answer.

“Go away,” you groaned. You weren’t in the mood for this. Not when you felt like punching someone.

“No,” he said, typical, and then somehow, forced your locked door open.

The sight he was presented with was you on your stomach, face planted into your pillows and your hair completely dishevelled. You kicked your feet on the bed out of frustration, the stuffies and blankets falling off your bed in the process.

“Fucking hell,” he took a step inside and shut the door behind him, locking it. “What I’m getting from this is that you’ve been possessed, am I right?”

“Sure feels like it,” you groaned through a mouthful of pillows, the anger laced in your words perfectly.

“Oh? What’s this?” He said with a smirk. You heard him shift closer and heard the sound of the video change as he took the phone. He rewound it to the beginning, and when he fully understood what was happening, he laughed like he wasn’t surprised at all. As frustrated as you were, you didn’t blame him. You knew he always hated the guy, and obviously, it was for good reason.

“What did I fucking tell you?” And at last, he turned your phone off so the video would stop playing. “Fuck, you want me to kill him for you?”

“No,” you said, finally turning over onto your back so you could face him. He was already in his pyjamas, red flannel pants and a plain white tee that sat perfectly on his frame. And by the way he was standing, you could tell he was angrier than he was letting on.

“Fuck, I wanna be the one to do it,” you continued.

He laughed at that, taking a seat on the end of your bed, picking up a few of the stuffies that had fallen off as he did so. You sat up to face him better, not bothering to readjust your clothes on your body. One of your loose straps was sliding down your shoulder, but it didn’t matter, not when you were comfortable around him. He was your family, after all.

“I don’t wanna see him with you again, got it?”

“Yeah, whatever,” you smiled, you knew he was serious by the way he was glaring at you, and you knew your brother well enough to know he wouldn’t hesitate to kill for you.

“That didn’t sound very convincing, swear it to me.”

“C’mon, Touya, who else do I have?”

“ What ?”

Oh, now you’d done it, hadn’t you?

“I need someone to keep me company, he fills the void sometimes,” you sighed. “I get lonely, you know?”

“No,” he snatched your phone from the bed, “I’m deleting his fucking contact.”

“Touya!” You reached over to grab it from him, but his free hand quickly pinned you down, your back hit the bed, and he hardly flinched as you struggled against him.

“Fuck, where is he? You got him under a fake name?”

“Touya!” You squirmed some more to no avail. “Let go!”

“No, fucking tell me where you put him,” he said, gripping onto your wrist tighter, but not once taking his eyes away from your phone screen, angrily scrolling through God knows what.

How he knew your password in the first place, you had no idea.

You groaned, knowing full well there was no way out of this, “I put him under ‘No Caller ID’.”

“Wow, how sneaky,” he said sarcastically. And just like that, he turned the screen around so you could watch him delete all traces of the contact.

“Whatever,” you rolled your eyes, turning your face away from him. “I’ll just be fucking lonely.”

“Hey,” he tossed your phone away with little regard for its safety. “How can you say something like that when you’ve got the coolest fucking brother in the world?”

“Huh? You tilted your head teasingly, “Natuso isn’t that bad, but you know that’s not what I mean when I say I’m lonely. Natsuo can’t help with… some things.”

“Oh? Good thing I wasn’t talking about Natsuo , then,” there was a growl in his voice, and you knew you’d pissed him off, but you couldn’t help but taunt him further.

“Oh? Who’s my coolest brother then?”

With his other hand, he grabbed your free wrist, bringing it up and pinning it above your head beside the other.

“Me, and you fucking know it.”

“Whatever,” you shifted, trying to free yourself, but it was helpless, all it did was cause your clothing to become even more dishevelled on your frame. And even though you felt comfortable around him, you were beginning to feel humiliated, beneath him like this and showing off just a bit too much skin.

“You still can’t help in the ways I need, if you know what I mean,” your tone fell more serious, hoping it would convince him to back off. But if anything, he only got closer, drawing his face down, breathing just inches away from your face.

“Yeah? Why not?” He continued.

“You’re my brother, ” you tried to push him away, but he forced himself on top of you to restrict your movements, sitting so your hips were between his thighs.

“Think I give a shit?”

Your eyes widened and instantly met his. He was smirking, but you still searched his expression for any hint of humour. He had to be joking, right?

“What?” You shifted beneath him again, trying to ignore the odd way his body was pressing against yours, his crotch dangerously close to your own. You moved, not liking the way it only made him smile down at you harder, his grip around your wrists threatening to cut off the circulation. You really were trapped, and if it was anyone else, you’d probably feel scared, vulnerable and exposed like this.

“Touyaaa~” You whined, “Stop being weird, I’ll tell Mom on you.”

“Mm, will you?” His face was only inches from you now, you gulped and ground your teeth together to stay silent. There was no way you could explain something as weird as this to her, and he knew it just as well as you did. He began to close the gap between you, lips just ghosting over yours, your noses barely touching.

“C’mon,” he whispered, “I know I can be better than him.”

You felt like a stranger in your own skin, heart racing and stomach doing somersaults from the contact. You dug your nails into your trapped palms stupidly hard. He was too close, weirdly close. One hand holding your wrists in place, the other reaching down and sliding underneath your chin, eyes staring into yours like you were his prey.

You swallowed.

“You’re really serious, aren’t you?”

His tongue licked the corner of his mouth, and you pressed your knees together unconsciously. You began to wonder what would happen if you just lifted your head, just a little bit, just enough to press your lips against his. You wondered how he would taste, would it feel wrong? Would it feel just the same as it did with other guys? You wanted to know how he would kiss you, his sister, if it was rough or gentle, slow or wet and sloppy.

It took every fibre of your being to fight away those thoughts.

“Stop it, Touya,” you spat. Still mustering whatever strength you could to squirm away from his firm hold.

“Go on, call Mom,” he chuckled. That stupid grin was still painted across his face, taunting you, tempting you. And at last, he let go of your wrists. You sighed in relief, but even now, there was no way you could free yourself. Not when he was on top of you like this. Not when he was so much bigger than you. You shoved a hand out towards him and flinched when you felt his chest against your palm. It was warm, solid, and for a second, you could feel his heartbeat racing, chest heaving with heavy, frustrated breaths. You pulled away almost as fast as you touched him, but didn’t dare move again.

“Oh?” He taunted again. “Fucking fight it, go on.”

As soon as those words came out, the harshness of his language hit your ears, you were a goner. Completely and entirely lost beneath him. You couldn’t fight your body’s natural reactions much longer. And when it became unbearable to not do so, you bit the bullet, and pressed your lips to his.

And, fuck, his lips were so damn soft.

The snakebite piercings tickled your bottom lip, and when you opened your mouth to kiss him deeper, he didn’t hesitate to slide in, teasing your bottom lip with his tongue piercing and biting down gently. You tried to be gentle with him, really, to not rush into things like a starved person, but Touya was starved, hungry and angry. He kissed you like he had a fucking point to prove. A gasp slipped from you as his tongue grazed yours, and you reached up and grabbed onto his shirt with one hand, reaching up for his neck with the other.

There was a stark hardness on top of you as he straddled you. A large hardness that pressed between your legs deliciously. You broke the kiss as you rolled your hips against him, more desperate for any sort of friction than you would ever admit.

Touya laughed a bit at your desperation, “and you’re telling me I’m the one being weird.”

Fuck. You stalled yourself at that. What the fuck were you doing? You opened your eyes after pulling away from him as much as you could, but his cocky expression was unreadable.

“Oh, no” he smiled, reaching down to peck you on the lips once more, “I didn’t say to stop. ”

He rolled his hips, rolled that painfully obvious erection in his pants against your clothed pussy. You tried to fight back a moan, but your efforts in concealing your pleasure were futile when your heart was racing like this, when your breathing was speeding up like you’d run a marathon, even at only the smallest of movements.

“C’mon, sis,” he continued, placing a peck against the side of your neck, “I know you want this.”

You closed your eyes, trying to ignore his taunts, because fuck, you couldn’t deny it now, not when you’d come this far. You squirmed beneath him again, just to feel him, and as if he’d caught on, he pressed himself into you. Your imagination ran wild, making you want to know just how big it was, how it felt in your hands, inside you.

And when he groaned, you knew, well and truly, you’d reached the point of no return.

“Just once,” you breathed, “and we’ll never speak of this again, got it?”

“Mm,” light pecks on the side of your neck became wet kisses, trailing down toward your exposed collarbone. “We’ll see about that,” he muttered against your skin, and you melted beneath him.

His body ran hot naturally because of his quirk, hot hands traced your sides, playing with your loose shirt, pushing it upward and revealing most of your stomach. You let him, squirming about as if you were inviting him to take everything off.

“So eager,” he smiled, finally lifting your shirt just so it could slide over your tits, exhaling shakily at the way they sprung so easily from your shirt. You tried to cover up, but before you could, he had his hands all over you, grasping, groping, pinching.

“Touya…” The sensation was new to you, to have such warm, big hands all over you like this, like they’d been dying for this exact opportunity. “Don’t be so-”

Your words left you as quick as they came when his hot mouth met your chest, tongue beginning at your collarbones, sucking the tender flesh and making his presence known in the form of gentle hickeys and bite marks. Your back arched into the gentle pain, pressing your chest up into him. You felt him smile against your skin at your body’s reaction, not long before biting down harder, evidently craving more of your cute little reactions to him.

“Mm?” He hummed against you as if daring you to finish your sentence. You couldn’t. Your mind was blank, only Touya occupied it. Touya, your brother, and his warm mouth on your skin, wasting no time in venturing further down, making gentle marks on your tits, tracing dangerously close to your nipples and teasing your sensitivity.

And despite everything, the wrongness of it all, you wanted more of him. You wanted to feel him everywhere.

One of his fingers began tweaking your nipple, distracting you from his mouth quickly closing in around the other, circling his tongue around the gentle peak and taking it between his hot lips. The piercings on his mouth touched you in ways you’d never known possible - with a precision that had your legs shaking for him.

“Fuck,” you breathed out, looking down at him, one tit in his mouth, the other held captive by the sweet torture of his fingers. His eyes opened, icy blue and glaring at you were his next meal. Your breath hitched at the sight, but in no way were you scared.

You needed more. So much more.

You bit your lip and pushed against him, harder than before, hoping maybe he would take the hint. He bit down on your nipple, gentle, but hard enough for you to cry out his name.

“Shh,” he pulled away. “You really want someone to hear you?”

“Please,” you continued, arching your hips up into him again, this time, your voice coming out in a high-pitched, pathetically desperate whine.

And at last, one hand slipped beneath the waistband of your pants, casually slipping under and moving his hot fingers over your clothed cunt. He pressed down harder, rubbing gently where he knew your clit was, and you gasped.

“Wow,” he teased, “someone really is excited, huh?”

It wasn’t like you could help it, not when his big hands felt that good, touching and grabbing you like he knew your body better than anyone else. He shifted his body above you, giving him enough room to begin pulling down your pants. You moved your legs, making it easier for him to slip the fabric away. He tossed them toward the corner of your room, knocking something over in the process, and when you looked up to check, he pressed his lips against yours again, pushing you back down onto the bed and trapping your there, entirely bare beneath him.

He didn’t even give you a moment to breathe before his hands were tugging at the waistband of your underwear, pulling and grabbing until he gave in, tearing the material in two in one swift motion.

“Touya!”

“Hm?” His middle finger found your clit, and your eyes fell closed. “C’mon, tell me how much you fucking love all of this.”

You frowned at him, “just fucking do it.”

“Tell me,” he repeated, “tell me how much you love your brother's hands all over you.”

“Stop,” you breathed, something like dread or guilt filling your gut at his words. But judging by his expression, he felt nothing of the sort. He slid his tongue along his front teeth, maintaining that smirk like the asshole he was.

“So fucking wet for me,” he slid his finger through your folds, achingly slow. “You don’t need to say anything, I know you love it.”

You wanted to hit him, push him off your bed and call for someone to get him the hell out, but your hands were far too busy tugging on his shirt, aimlessly pulling and trying to get it off. He understood quickly, and momentarily took his hands away from you to quickly pull it over his head. He aimlessly tossed it away, and this time, you didn’t care where the hell it landed. As long as he got back to whatever he was doing.

“Poor thing,” he cooed, rubbing his thumb in gentle circles on your clit, his middle finger tracing your slit and teasing your entrance. “You know how wrong this is, but you just can’t bring yourself to fight it, can you?”

You dug your nails into his bare shoulders, almost hard enough to draw blood, but he only laughed as he pushed his finger in knuckle deep.

Without any warning, your grip on his shoulder loosened, but your whole body went tense. Even just one of his fingers filled you up so well, the warmth of it was enough to make your eyes roll back. He smirked when your hips started to buck against it when he didn’t move right away, as if he was pleased by just how desperate you were to feel more of him.

He stayed like that for a moment, simply letting you fuck yourself on his idle hand. And eventually, one finger became two, and he angled his hand in a way that allowed you to grind your clit into his palm. You could feel yourself growing wetter, spilling and leaking all over his hand. And if he hadn’t already felt it, he definitely heard it. The lewd squelching was the only sound to fill the silence except for the sound of both of you breathing, deep, heavy, and both of you undeniably desperate for more.

“Fuck,” you breathed, “don’t m-move.”

You were close already, you’d worked yourself up too much, and his fingers were too damn big, reaching every place inside you without him even having to move an inch. You were so close, and you’d gotten there all by yourself. All he had to do was stay still for a second longer.

You should’ve known Touya wouldn’t cooperate with you.

“Nah,” he pulled his fingers out, painfully slow, making sure to brush it against your clit on the way out. “Not yet.”

“F-fuck you,” you said, collapsing beneath him in an attempt to catch your breath. You heard only the obnoxious sound of Touya sucking his fingers clean above you. Groaning around them like you were the best thing he’d ever tasted.

It was fucking disgusting.

You loved it.

You wanted to know what his mouth felt like between your legs, tongue lapping you up while those big hands of his held your thighs, keeping you still for him while his shoulders forced your legs apart.

“Please, Touya,” you whined. He hovered above you, eyes raking your body as his hands came down to hold you by the waist.

“Poor thing,” he smirked, “about to cum already, and I’ve hardly done anything to you.” You shivered at his words, and when his eyes met yours again, your heart skipped a beat.

“Please-”

You were cut off by the sound of somebody moving outside. The sound of light footsteps was enough for both of you to freeze, staring at one another wide-eyed as someone made their presence known in the room next door.

Where your eyes showed fear and apprehension, Touya’s showed challenge - some sick kind of excitement. Without taking his eyes away from you, he tugged at the waistband of his pants, rough as if in a hurry to be rid of them. He made no effort to conceal the sound of his belt, tossing the heavy thing to the side of your room and allowing it to crash against the wall.

You were about to protest, to scold him and tell him to stop, but once he’d pulled his pants down enough to reveal his boxers, he held his palm over your mouth, fingers holding your jaw firmly and tilting your face up toward his. You whined as he palmed his cock through his boxers, and he chuckled when your eyes widened at the sight of it. Even through the tented fabric, you knew something that big would struggle to fit all the way inside of you. When your eyes slowly drifted back up to meet his gaze, the asshole looked way too damn pleased with himself. He bit his bottom lip with a shit-eating grin on his face, clearly more than ready to devour you, his sweet little sister, whole.

You glared at him dangerously as he pulled his boxers down, just enough to let his cock bounce out, the thing was twice as big as you’d imagined it, thick and the length of it adorned with various barbell piercings.

You learnt something new about your brother every day, huh?

The ring on his tip was larger than the rest, already glistening in precome and just begging to tease the deepest spots inside of you.

With his boxers pulled down around his thighs, Touya moved his hands down to your thighs, forcefully pulling them apart to make room for him to get even closer. You exhaled through your nose as he ran his fingers between your folds again, smiling that same cocky grin as he pushed two fingers inside of you again, curling them right against your desperately needy g-spot. You clamped your eyes shut, fearful to make even the smallest of sounds as the person just outside continued to make noise by your bedroom door. Your nerves danced in your stomach as Touya shifted closer, and when you felt his bare erection against your thigh, your stomach flipped.

His fingers left you again as soon as he felt you begin to shake, the bastard.

And then you felt him press the head against your entrance. He teased it, moving ever so slightly so the coldness of his piercing could be known, and just when it got too much, he pulled his palm away from your mouth.

You gasped for air, as if your supply was somehow going to run out. “Touya-”

“Shh,” Touya soothed as he lifted up one of your legs to rest against his chest. You allowed him to do so, but not without making the apprehension visible in your expression.

There was no way you could be quiet like this, and whoever was outside was bound to catch on.

He pressed his cheek against your calf and waited for your body to relax before carefully pushing himself all the way inside - slowly, agonisingly so, but somehow still nowhere near slow enough to allow you to adjust to his size.

And fuck, did he stretch you fucking perfectly.

You whined, pathetically and far too loudly. But that didn’t matter, because evidently, Touya didn’t give a fuck about who heard you. He pulled out and shoved himself inside with no warning as if it was his goal to break you, to provoke you, to let them hear all of your adorable sounds.

He gripped you firmly and pushed in again harder, balls slapping against your ass as he bottomed out inside you. You had to bite your lip to stop yourself from crying out, and fuck, it didn’t even matter anymore, because you didn’t want him to stop. You needed him to keep moving to give you some sort of relief from the pressure in your gut. You needed him to fuck you until you forgot your own name, forgot about that stupid boyfriend of yours, and maybe so you could forget about the fact that the guy fucking you was your own older brother.

“So fucking tight,” he muttered and dragged his teeth along the skin on your leg, lips grazing your flesh hungrily. He looked down at you as you covered your face with your hands, squirming pathetically and vulnerably beneath him. He had to fight the urge to pluck them away from your face, he wanted to see how desperate you were, but your sounds told him more than enough.

“Please,” you begged, quiet enough so that only he could hear. “Go faster.”

He wanted to listen to you, every urge in his body was telling him to do just that. But more than anything, he wanted to hear you. Touya didn’t give a fuck who heard you. He wanted you to beg for it, to tell him you’ll never go back to that scum of a boyfriend and trust him instead. So he slowed down, even if it killed him to do so. He pumped out slowly, never sliding his cock in all the way, simply teasing you with the head.

“What the fuck,” you whispered through your teeth. “ Touya,” you scolded him, as if you had any right to do so as the younger sibling.

“Show me your face,” he smirked, “Come on, I wanna see you.”

You threw your hands to your sides, glaring at him as soon as your eyes made contact with his again.

What was supposed to be intimidating, a show of your frustration, only caused your stomach to sink. That same guilt, the looming knowledge that Touya was your brother, hung over your head like a bad omen of some sort. His face was usually so familiar, but not like this, not when he was looking at you like that.

“Good girl,” he cooed, pressing a kiss into your inner thigh. And fucking finally, he started moving again, hips snapping against yours unapologetically as his pace quickened.

Your entire body shook from the impact, and clearly, your poor bed frame felt it too. You cringed at the sound of it squeaking, combined with the sound of someone still lurking around in the room next door. Touya chucked, pounding into you even harder as if making as much sound as possible was his goal this whole time.

You couldn’t stop him now. You felt like you were going to split into two when he fucked you like this. You trembled and whined each time his cock bottomed out in the same spot, clashing into your sensitive walls violently, hitting places nobody had ever reached before, especially not like this. He reached places you didn’t even know you had.

“Fucking hell, Touya,” you spoke, shaky and wet as your eyes clouded with tears. You couldn’t handle it, he was too fucking big, too fucking good at this, and he’d effectively fucked you to the point of forgetting your stupid boyfriend already.

Fuck it, Touya was all you needed, it didn’t matter, not when it felt this fucking good.

“Yeah?” He said through a grunt. “Tell me how good I am, sis.”

You knew what he wanted you to say. As if it wasn’t already obvious.

“You’re-” You whined, “ fuck , you’re better than him.”

He rolled his hips into you before leaning down, allowing you to wrap your legs around his waist and your arms around his neck.

“Don’t stop, please don’t stop, Touya” you cried in his ear as his head fell snugly into the crook of your neck.

He smiled, you felt it against your skin. And of course, he didn’t stop this time.

He fucked you like he meant it, like he’d been waiting for this moment to come for years. It was overwhelming, the way his cock slammed into you and all but tore you apart. His body was warm, too warm against yours, and when his mouth found your neck, teeth grazing the vein and lips sucking harshly, you just about forgot who you were. You couldn’t hold on like this. You were trying to, just to savour it longer, to take in more of him, but it was an impossible feat.

“T-touya,” you stuttered, he chucked, knowing exactly what you were trying to tell him. Your cunt clenched around him perfectly, sucking him in and teasing his release out of him too. “Touya, oh my god.”

“That’s it,” he breathed as he slammed into you impossibly hard as if he was trying to force it out of you. “Fucking come for me.”

You whined his name as you came, only barely managing to stifle the sound of it in his neck. Your entire body shook as he rocked you through it, fucking you relentlessly through your high. Tears were still threatening to spill from your eyes and your legs tightened impossibly around his waist.

“Good,” Touya groaned into your ear, “so fucking good.” You could hardly hear him, not when you were this high. All you knew was him and his cock piercing you like there was no tomorrow.

You barely registered his hips stuttering, and he dragged his teeth over your skin, earning the faintest sigh from you as he bit down even harder than before.

And finally, he came, never giving you any warning before spilling deep inside of you. You whimpered as the warmth filled you, oozing through you and spilling out around his cock as he held you there in his tight embrace. You laid there as you both tried to catch your breath, bodies sweaty and hearts pounding, both of you evidently being hit with waves of what the fuck just happened.

Someone shifted in the room next door again, reminding you of where you were,but neither of you moved. Touya only pulled out of you slowly, wincing slightly at the sight of his come spilling out of you.

He hadn’t meant to, really . (Maybe a little).

But you saw the amused smirk on his face as he sat up, and you felt your body erupt into flames. Shocked at just how fucking proud of himself he was.

He ran a single finger between your folds, gathering the evidence of him that was beginning to leak out before gently pushing it back into you. You gasped when he curled his finger, body shaking pathetically at just how sensitive you were from such a small movement. He looked so fucking proud, too proud, as he studied you, listening to your tiny whimpers and cries as he teased his little sister's oversensitive cunt.

You were fucked.

Because despite everything, you loved every second of it. The wrongness of it all, the secrecy. It all made it so much better.

“Told you,” he taunted, “you’ve got the coolest fucking brother in the world, huh?”

[sanjisblackasswife]

Hey, may I please have Sanji, Zoro, and Law react to an S/O who usually walls around in an oversized t-shirt but like never wears pants? (Sfw and nsfw please)

A/N: Of course :) tysm for requesting!:) enjoy!

One Piece Men Seeing You Wearing Only Big Shirts (SFW & NSFW)

Ft. Sanji, Zoro, & Law

CW: Gropping, Oral Sex, Fingering, Panty Stealing , Mutual Masturbation, Mentions of Sex, …and sex

Sanji

SFW

He finds it so hot lmao

He thinks it’s very cute too he really wants to hug you so badly Everytime he sees you walking around the ship in a big top whether it’s your pajamas or it’s your outerwear.

He did however spaz tf out when he found out you don’t like wearing pants

When you both decided to just share the same room he moved his clothes into your closet and didn’t see any jeans

“Y-N-chaaaan, where are your pants?”

“I don’t own any.”

Flipped him tf out you were so confused KEJSSHDJSJ

He loves seeing your legs so he really had no complaints

He loves how you manage to style the huge shirts when you guys go out

NSFW

You look so sexy to him when you fight

He’s bought you so many shirts that were oversized, but short JUST enough to where when you reach up or bend down he gets a beautiful view of your panties

You’ve noticed this so when you both are alone you started walking around him with no panties

“Y/N!” It was so cute seeing his heart eyes pop out viewing your cute cunt in his face from across the kitchen bending over the sink, but quickly shaking his head to hold your waist tightly as the stupid Marimo walked in.

“GET OUT, SHITTY SWORDSMAN!” His body was pretty much on top of your back as you were still bent over being shielded from any exposure. You smirked feeling his hard on rub against your clit ever so slightly.

“Stupid ass cook…” Zoro grumbled walking out. The second he was out of sight you turned to face him and crash your lips on to his, you grabbed his middle and ring finger and guided it to your damp slit rubbing it in sloppy circles.

You giggled looking up at him with big doe like eyes bitting your lip in excitement.Sanji started to nearly pant feeling how warm you felt, mouth gaped, before you pulled his fingers back out to suck and roll your tongue on them.

“Sanji….” You breathed out a moan popping his fingers out of your mouth. “You want me to help you with that?” You looked down at his visible hard on and palmed it gaining a broken hiss from the blonde.

It wasn’t too long of teasing until Sanji got on his knees and did more than just use his fingers in between your legs.

Zoro

SFW

He thinks you should just walk around shirtless like him lmao

He gives you the shirts he doesn’t wear anymore so you can sleep in

He thinks it’s odd you own NO pants, but doesn’t care too much to ask why

He really likes knowing that under that big shirt is a body of a goddess.

Sometimes when he is behind you he pulls your shirt back to see your true curves and embarrass you

NSFW

Zoro loves the free access he has with you only wearing shirts

He’s a got dang horny menace and he’ll constantly deny it afterwards

You were walking around to find a seat beside your boyfriend as everybody was by the camp fire but he grabbed your hand to sit on his lap under the blanket your brought.

Everybody was laughing and talking until you felt a calloused hand under your shirt rubbing your inner thigh

“You’re not wearing panties like I told you right?” He turned his head to whisper in your ear making sure nobody can read his lips. You clear your throat at his tone, he sounded almost as if he was threatening you and you nod. He grins at you giving you a small peck on the cheek and continue to drink his sake.

You kept talking and laughing with Nami until you felt his thick finger tips rub your labia against your clit. You had to quickly cough away the moan that almost came out of your mouth mid sentence.

“You okay?” Nami smiled grabbing another drink.

“Mmhm!” You complain about it but you really liked when Zoro did this kind of teasing to you. It was almost like a subconscious game you both played when around people and teased each other until one cracked. You won last time; rubbing his cock through his pants one night at dinner , but now it was his turn for revenge.

The blanket he made you bring was thick enough to not see the rough movement of his fingers sliding in and out of your cunt, but it was your job to make sure Luffy or Franky, who are sitting near you hears the noises your body is making.

Zoro had the best poker face, with one hand with sake and the other in your clenching pussy.

He was determined to win, by having you moan at least once in front of the crew.

Law

SFW

You stress him out lmao

He wants you to wear the uniform and you only do if you have to

Which isn’t a lot

“Y/N, go put on your uniform.”

“Am I working in the broiler room today?”

“No.”

“Then no.”

He literally cannot with how you feel so comfortable not wearing PANTS

So he made you wear spandex shorts under your clothing when you are on the ship.

He does give you credit for being so stylish with it though

He will also admit he does enjoy watching you prance around with his shirts and seeing your thighs jiggle a bit when you move under the fabric.

NSFW

Law actually was shocked to see your body shape for the first time when you pulled back your shirt to show him

Your thighs looked absolutely amazing to him

He goes absolutely bananas when you wear thigh high socks

He tries to play it off but he sucks

You say he has a fetish with your thighs and socks and you nearly loss your head because of it

You did also notice your panties missing—-moreso your thongs. So naturally you went and reported the problem to your boyfriend aka the captain.

“I need my thongs, Law.” You sat on his desk beside him, he wasn’t looking at you with his head deep in paper work, but you could see from under his hat he was smirking. “Stop taking my undies!”

“They’re hardly undies.” He shot back. “Besides they’re inappropriate.”

“THEY’RE MY PANTIES?!”

“You barely wear the spandex I got you and I almost seen them the other day when you were reaching for your knives. It’s inappropriate.”

“…so what did you do with em? Some of them were used. Did you sniff em? Hmm?”

Law groaned in disgust of course he wasn’t going admit that

“Well what am I supposed to do now that I have no panties.” You said in a playful tone opening your legs and moving his papers behind you. You scooted over and placed your feet on the arm rest of his chair to expose your wet cunt in front of him since you may or may not have prepped yourself for him before you came into his office.

Law looked at the beautiful scene before him and licked his lips. All you were wearing was his shirt and those damned socks.

“You know we can take a break and I can give you a reason to give me back my panties.” You teased your fingers over your clit humming softly. Law started to rub his chin not breaking eye contact of your cunt. He really wanted to shut you up by pushing you on your back and fucking your stupid but he actually enjoyed the show feeling his pants get tight he adjusted himself in his seat.

“Rub it faster.”

“Ah ah where are my panties.”

He poked his cheek with his tongue and pulled you closer bending a little to hover his lips over your sensitive pussy. You arched your back at the hot feeling of his breath.

“You really wanna piss me off right now?” He smirked up at you giving your slit a long lick and kiss. “Hm?”

“Ah…no sir….” You moaned unbuttoning your his shirt and rubbing one of your breast.

“Fuck…Seems Like you enjoy not wearing any panties huh?” He unzipped his pants pulling out his pretty tanned cock standing tall and twitching between your thighs.

“Well if it gets me fucked..then yeah…” you clicked your tongue before grabbing his black collar and pulling him to kiss you and he tugged on your nipples to have you gasp and slide his tongue in your mouth.

“Rub your clit for me again, baby.” He huffed. You completely forgot that you wanted to keep teasing him and did as told but this time faster. He stood back watch and stroking his cock for a little bit before sliding inside you making your both moan.

You didn’t give him a good reason to give you back your panties, but he gave you more of a reason to wear big shirts.

[lightlycareless]

imagine naoya leaving for work then comes naomi chasing after him with tears in her eyes because she knows she won’t see him for days.😭

HELLO!!!!

WELP MORE DOMESTIC STUFF ON THE WAY!!!! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA I love baby Naomi 😭 I wish it could be us Naoya and our baby happy together forever.

This has the same energy as when you and Naoya cry when realizing Naomi has to go to school or is at school and not home anymore 🤣 but omg this is such a dramatic moment in her life, the moment she realizes her papa isn't actually there most of the time, kept oblivious thanks to your consistent work of distracting her 😭 how dare we fool her?!

Anyways, here are the warnings: fluff. you have a daughter with naoya named naomi. she is smol... we need to protect her 🥺💖

Happy reading!

How you managed to keep the truth from Naomi for so long is something that has to be commended! Though your daughter’s innocence helped you a lot.

Naturally you felt bad for taking advantage of her naïveté, but it was genuinely the only way to prevent her from crying—alongside the video calls Naoya would always try to make back home: one in the morning during breakfast, another at lunch, and the last one before heading to bed.

Though it seemed that these calls were mostly made with Naoya’s benefit in mind, for the sight of Naomi's face lightening up upon hearing her dear papa's voice is one that always melted all his worries away, as well as anxious to return home.

So that, alongside your constant distraction of Naomi by bringing her with you to wherever you went, whether it being going from one side of the estate to the other to oversee your duties, or going out shopping with your staff, nobody could say your daughter was unattended—and subsequently, ignorant of her father’s absence.

Because of said things, the two thought of themselves to be very lucky to have such a well-behaved child, the envy of some in more ways than one!

Until she grew old enough to realize what was going on.

It was only inevitable, encouraged that she’d become conscious of her surroundings, which you began to notice when she started giving slightly more complex storylines to her dolls when playing with them… as silly as that might sound.

And while it was endearing to see her grow, it was also highly worrying, for you fretted about the kind of reaction she’d have when she finally acknowledges the reason why her father wasn’t around—an unprecedented event that occurred as followed.

As customary, you always made sure to either ask your staff to distract Naomi whenever you were off to bid your farewells to Naoya, or if his departure is happening at night, place her in bed, rocked to sleep by her papa before carefully sneaking out of the bedroom and meeting by the entrance.

Tonight, was to be the latter, with Naoya placing one last kiss on Naomi’s forehead as she snored softly, a sight that squeezed his heart, silently cursing his responsibilities and his supposed duty to the clan, collecting himself afterwards and heading over to your direction to get another spoonful of that same regret—why did he have to leave?

“When will you come back?” you murmur, wrapping your arms around his chest and holding him tightly against you, not wanting to let go.

“In a few weeks.” Naoya sighs, kissing the top of your head and resting his head above yours. “I hope Naomi doesn’t grow too much when I’m away.”

The slightest hesitation in your response is enough for Naoya to pursue the matter, placing his fingers underneath your chin and raising your gaze to his.

“What is it?”

“Oh, well—Naomi doesn’t fit in her onesies again; the ones I got her last month!” you respond. “…I fear that when you come back, she might not be as small as you remember.”

Naoya frowns.

There is one thing he hated from coming back home and that was realizing he’s missed out in his daughter’s growth—and for something as stupid as doing these lousy missions HQ couldn’t bother to assign to literally anyone else.

Though, in some ways, it was his fault. For he wanted to reassure his position as the future leader of the clan, prove that he was worthy, and apparently the only way to do so was to drown himself with work.

«It won’t be much longer» Is what he’d tell himself from time to time. «Everything I do is for my family’s wellbeing. To give them a life where they can be safe and happy.»

A life where the only things either would have to worry about is what stuffed animals to buy for Naomi, or where should they go for holiday next time he’s off work…

Or what to do with a curious baby girl that woke up earlier than anticipated, upset that her parents weren’t by her side, leading her to exit her bedroom and head towards the direction she hears them to be, all in the innocent quest for answers— coincidentally, her parent’s torment.

“Pa—pa! Mama!” Naomi coos upon seeing her parents, a wide smile on her chubby little face as she rushed to them, a sight that would’ve normally inspired the two to run to her in return and scoop her into their arms. But for now, only made you wonder how she managed to escape Mariya’s attention?! Wasn’t she supposed to keep an eye on her?!

“Pumpkin, you’re supposed to be asleep!” Naoya says, perhaps thinking Naomi would stop on her tracks and head back—or who knows?

But she ignores his words, diligently continuing her way to them until she was able to cling onto Naoya’s leg, lightly tugging at the fabric of his pants as if asking him to pick her up and pepper her with all the kisses he gives her whenever doing so.

And while Naomi doesn’t retaliate when you’re the one that gives her those gestures, it’s only when you slowly begin to separate her from her papa that the issues begin.

Naomi first attempts to break away from your embrace by pushing away, looking over to Naoya then back to you with a whine and pout that lets you know this isn’t what she wanted, nor is she open to negotiate.

“You’re supposed to be sleeping, mochi.” You say, hoping she’ll understand and stop moving. But she doesn’t, if anything she insists even more! “Naomi, you have to—"

“No!” she cries, shaking her head. “Want papa!”

Her disappointment doesn’t come until she sees Naoya’s lack of initiative, the unusually quiet, distant response to her calls that made her eyes tear up a bit.

But her heartbreak only occurs when you eventually resort to the thing the two probably should’ve done way before, and that is, telling her the truth.

“No, baby, you can’t have papa because, well, he has to leave.”

Naomi frowns, the last sliver of hope unwilling to give up just yet, as if skeptical of your words, believing you to be hiding the truth…

Until Naoya confirms it as well.

“I won’t be gone for long— I just gotta do some missions, I’ll be back before you even—”

“No!” Naomi shakes her head. “Papa no go!”

“I have to. It’s my job; you know I’m a sorcerer and—”

“No! You don’t—you don’t—leave…!”

And so, she weeps, pouring her small heart out with the most heart wrenching cries either have ever heard in their life—because they weren’t ones of hunger or displeasure. They were ones of sadness, upset that one of the most important people in her life is leaving, to return God knows when.

“Naomi…” you murmur, attempting to comfort her by resting her head against your shoulder, to no avail. It was clear what she wanted, who she wanted, so Naoya decides to take her from your arms and soothe her himself, which in reality only made her cry even more, as if realizing this is the last time he was going to hug her—for now.

“I won’t be gone for long, princess.” Naoya attempts to comfort her, pinching her cheek in the usual teasing way that always had her giggling—but she was too distraught to do anything else but cry.

She couldn’t be blamed, for Naomi was only a child that just began to understand that sometimes, her parents weren’t always going to be there by her side. There would be moments where they’d have to temporarily part ways to do other things, but that didn’t mean they didn’t love her. Or that she wouldn’t be ok.

Maybe this was the result of your over-endearing ways. Perhaps the two were simply too much for her, and this led her to have issues at the mere thought of either’s departure. You were always there for her, anyways, so why did it have to be different now?

“Princess, there’s nothing to cry about, you know I’ll always be here with you…”

“Pa…paaa—!” she gaps, tightly holding onto his shirt with an unprecedented strength that only serves to reflect how heartbroken she was by his words. “No go!”

And she’d continue to cry well into the following days. Soon after waking up, having tired herself out by her tears, when remembering her papa wasn’t there anymore, and wouldn’t be, not even if she searched all around the estate.

The once hilarious video calls, for Naomi thought her father had shrunk, were now nothing but a sad endeavor, accompanied by her sobs and quiet pleads of his quick return.

“I love you, little mochi. I only left because I needed to.” Naoya would always remind her. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

“Mnnno!” She shakes her head. “Come back!”

“If you promise to behave, I’ll take you to that park you like so much.” Her papa offers. “We’ll get all the sweets you want, and we’ll also go visit your grandpa. You like it when we go visit him, right? With auntie Hinata and uncle Ren.”

But Naomi doesn’t stop, showing him again and again that she doesn’t want any of those things—she just wants her father back and that’s it!

…

It would be the first thing Naoya wouldn’t be able to fulfill for his daughter, the same one that provided him with the much-needed reminder that being a parent is more than just giving everything to your children; it’s also preparing them for the surrounding world. Teaching them that some things are simply not meant to be and that it was ok.

While this change was initially painful, for no parent would ever want their child to suffer, as well as difficult because at the end of the day, Naomi was still a child, and thus, struggled to grasp certain subjects…

It was also very gratifying to observe Naomi grow up. See her do things that she couldn’t before, or perhaps never cared about, and help her overcome them. Because it reflected the love and care both had for their small family, and all that was yet to come.

Things that neither could wait to see happen, the realization of the amazing person she was always meant to be and supporting her every step of the way.

Ngl you and naoya were moved that she was that emotional about her father but at the same time you obviously didn't want her to cry. aaaaa parenthood is conflicting, but we love naomi nonetheless.

Thank you so much for sending in this ask!! I love writing about these small moments, it makes their dynamic so much more enjoyable. I hope to get to write about Naomi's first day of school soon!!!

Until then, take care, and hope to see you soon 🥰💖

[positively-peachy-143]

dallas x early bird!reader? ilysm👹

THANK YOU FOR THE REQUEST I'M SORRY IT TOOK SO LONG.

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

Just Like Heaven

Characters: Dallas Winston, Early Bird! GN! Reader

Ships: Dallas Winston/Reader

Tags: smoking, light kissing, fluffy stuff :>

Wk: 649

Dallas Winston has never been a morning person, and he never will be. You on the other hand adore mornings. You love the way the light streams in through your window at Buck’s, you love when it illuminates Dallas’ features. You get to see this side of him that no one else sees; peaceful, vulnerable, sleeping Dallas. Who would blame you for watching him? He was beautiful.

This morning the sky is particularly golden, making the strands of his dark hair light up, illuminating it in hues of hazel and gold. 

You take a sip of your coffee; black. It’s bitter, but a wonderful way to wake up. The steam is illuminated in the sunlight, rising in a steady stream from the chipped mug you’d manage to scrounge up downstairs. It had become a routine, making yourself coffee in the bar’s kitchen, maybe even breakfast for you and Dallas. Not this morning though, just coffee is fine for you. 

You’re interrupted from your thoughts when you feel an arm lazily tossed around your waist, hearing a familiar sleepy grumble from the lazy lump of a man beside you. It sounded like maybe he said “morning” in that very Dallas way of his. His voice was low, rumbling and slurred with sleep. It made you smile. 

“Good morning to you too, sleepyhead.” you glance over your coffee at him, the mug no more than a couple inches from your lips. Even if you weren’t actively sipping it, the smell was nice. And you had to protect it from the potential threat of Dallas spilling it again. 

“How’re you even alive right now, it’s so fuckin’ early…” he whined, burying his face in the pillow beside you. So much for admiring his features. 

“Wah wah” you mocked, elbowing him playfully. “You ought to try it, you know. Sunrise is beautiful.” 

“Don’t need a sunrise.” the words are simple, still edged by grogginess. He leaned up, eyes meeting yours. “Have you.” and he’s grinning that stupid grin of his, pressing a lazy, sleepy kiss to your lips. You’re sure he can taste your coffee, and he doesn’t seem to mind. When he pulls away, he looks a bit more awake than before, his grin verging on cocky now. 

“Sap.” you scold, shoving him. Though you can’t smother the smile tugging at your lips. Yes, you think this is your favorite part of your morning. While you enjoy your brief window of alone time, you may enjoy this, watching Dallas slowly wake up and getting that little peek into his vulnerable side, even more. 

“You blame me? Look who I getta wake up to.” he nudged you back, moving to sit up properly. He leaned over the little table next to the bed, picking up a box of matches and a carton of cigarettes. You’re not a big smoker, but in all honesty you don’t mind the smell as much as you used to. It always reminds you of Dally now. 

He perches a cigarette between his lips, striking a match from the matchbox and lighting it. Afterwards, he carelessly tossed both small boxes back onto the table. No point in offering you one, he knows that. 

A comfortable silence settles over you two. You, with your coffee, him, with his cigarette. Maybe not the healthiest breakfast, but you wouldn’t trade it for a five course meal if you had the chance. Something about this… peace, when otherwise chaos followed Dallas everywhere, when the gang would be teasing you, something about this was a welcome reprieve. You watch the sunlight streaming through the smoke wafting off the end of Dallas’ cancer stick, follow that light to his features. His dark eyes, brown hair, all illuminated in a way that makes him seem like some ethereal being sent here just to have this moment with you. Yes, something about this felt just like heaven.

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Feedback is always welcome!!! tysm for the request!!! :D

[mysticmilks]

Will and his feelings for Katherine

In this TED talk, I will argue that Will guessed or at least suspected that Katherine was his sister from the moment he met her, and hence there were no romantic feelings from his side.

[Lots of spoilers]

Yes, maybe it's obvious for everyone, but I still find it interesting to inspect how the narrative structure was keeping us intentionally in the dark both because of different POVs and because of the parts of the backstory that we get only way afterward.

The idea that there were any romantic feelings comes from two sources, Katherine's POV and Violet's. But when we look at the story from Will's perspective the meaning of his actions changes.

Let's start from the beginning.

Assumption 1: Some vague suspicions that he had siblings (backstory in Book 2, Elizabeth's POV)

Will was around 6-7 years old when Elizabeth was born. At that age, he would at least remember something, even if his mother never talked about the baby, even if she said that the child died or claimed that it never happened. Some memories, some half-forgotten moments must have stayed with him.

He knew for sure that his mother had a platitude of secrets, that she was afraid of something, and that she acted cautiously.

Assumption 2: Almost sure that he has/had sisters after his mother's death (Book 1, very close to the end, Will's POV )

Will is around 16, his mother is dying, covered in blood, murdered by unknown people. And she is talking nonsense. She is afraid of Will, so she attacks him, and she begs him not to hurt her girls.

Will was never stupid. And he had plenty of time to think about his mother's last words (and actions). And even though he wants to believe that she just didn't understand who he was, and what was going on, he is still our clever Will, and it's not that unbelievable, to at least suspect, that his mother really did have other children (girls), that she had to give up (and maybe that, somehow connected to her death).

He doesn't know if the girls are alive or where they are, but at that point, he must be almost sure that his mother had daughters.

Fact 1: Will knows both how his mother looks (obviously) and how Lady looks (Will's POV, Chapter 1)

Will is probably the only person alive, other than Devon and Sandy, who knows how Lady looks, and seeing her in the mirror he immediately recognizes that she has similarities to his late mother. 

Conclusion 1: When he saw Katherine for the first time he, for sure, noticed that she looked very similar to his mother and to Lady.

Once again, Will is smart, and seeing Katherin for the first time, he understands that she must be his sister.

He tries to find out if she has any other family members, asking her about her cousins.

When she reaches to his neck, he instinctively pulls away. The same way he wanted to pull away from Lady in the mirror. Because in both instances he thinks about his mother.

And at the end of their first meeting, he says that he was wrong, and he won't do whatever he planned.

Fact 2: When Katherine kisses him, Will pulls back

Will never initiate or encourage any intimacy. Probably because he didn't feel that way about her, but also because she is his sister.

She kissed him.

He tried to warn her and protect her because he promised his mom.

And Violet is the one who talks about love and kisses, while Will wants to say “It’s not what you think” because it's not. And it's not what we, readers, think because at that point Will (who's still not stupid) very much suspects that he is either Dark King's descendant or Dark King Reborn.

So my conclusion is that the feelings he has for Katherine are mixed but there is very little indication that he felt anything romantic or passionate toward her.

The whole point of this long post is an attempt to prove that Pacat is playing with our minds via POVs, vague dialogs, and a backstory that is revealed way too late. And if we can't trust the story in these small details, we also can't trust it in much bigger points such as Dark vs Light Sides, the role of the Collar, and the story of The Betrayer.