#if you make a phone call when others are around no one wants to fucking hear it

[tame-the-lion-writes]

Thinking about reader finally stumbling onto one of the dogs shifted into their human form. Maybe Soap raiding the cabinets in the kitchen for a late night snack? Reader obviously freaks tf out about a whole ass man in their house... but the rest of the force are still in their dog forms. Reader's confused why their once very protective dogs are completely okay with this strange man in their house, and why this man is claiming to be one of her dogs.

(Note that these answers are non-linear! I’ll be having fun with a few more asks/requests as if this hasn’t happened yet 😉)

All you wanted was some water to ease the dryness in your throat, but as soon as they noticed you picking up your phone from the bedside table, the dogs kept tugging at your clothes to hold you back—something they never did. You swatted them away without thinking much of it, though, too sleep-adled to think that maybe, just maybe, they were doing it for good reason.

And then you saw the man in your kitchen.

“Why are you naked.”

It wasn’t much of a question. More of a statement—or an exaggeration, really—because he wasn’t naked. He was just wearing sweatpants that hung low on his hips, exposing a deep V-line and a happy trail that would’ve had you drooling if not for the sheer strangeness of the circumstances. At first, you weren’t even sure if you should be afraid—because it was comedic, the way he locked eyes with you, halfway through chomping down on a spoonful of cereal from not even a bowl, but a mug.

He swallows hard, and that’s when you grab a knife—earning several barks from your dogs. At you. Not him.

“He’s literally the intruder here!” you argue back. “You bark at, like, every other guy? What about him?! He’s massive!”

“Aw, thank y—“

“That wasn’t a compliment!”

The man’s smile tightens as he slowly puts the mug and spoon down, and lifts his hands as if in surrender. 

“Easy, lass,” he continues, eyes darting between your face and the knife. “I’m a friend.”

“The fuck you are—“

“Look. Look.” He gestures back and forth between himself and the dogs, who stand in place between you two. “You’re missin’ a pup, aren’t ya? Foxhound that gets into everything? Soap? Thah’s me!”

‘Me?’ What the hell was this guy thinking? But sure enough—just as he said—Soap was missing from the group. It was just Price, Ghost, and Gaz—all tense like you. If not more so. Gaz offers a whine in negotiation, stepping forward to get you to back up a little further, away from the stranger. There’s a beg—no—an intelligent plea in the Labrador’s eyes that nearly makes you falter, unsure of reason or rhyme.

Unsure of yourself.

“That’s— that’s not possible,” you laugh nervously, reaching for the phone in your pocket. “Dogs don’t turn into people, or vice versa. Now get out of my house or I’m calling the poli—“

— “Wouldn’t do that if I was you.”

And now there’s a third fucking person. Standing in your kitchen. Right where Price used to be. And now the shock runs cold, adrenaline gone in place of confusion. And a quick skip through the stages of grief into acceptance.

“Well,” is all that gets out of your mouth. “Shit.”

The world spins, and everything goes black. You’re out like a light. All you see is ‘human-Price’ moving forward, then darkness, and the sensation of two arms catching you before you hit the floor.

The boys hang around until morning light after that, sitting in the living room in dead silence. At least until Gaz gives a final suggestion.

“… You think we can pass it off as a dream?”

_

Bonus Thoughts:

You do, in fact, wake up as if it were a dream. Because you’re back in bed per usual, and the house is in order, and the dogs are piled around you like nothing ever happened. You eye them all suspiciously, then slap yourself. Because what kind of weirdo imagines her pets as hot, tall, buff men? Pervert.

Meanwhile, the boys are just exchanging the quietest glances before you settle back in bed. Because for a good few seconds, they think they’ve been discovered.

Also Soap has suffered a collective *bap* from everyone because it’s what he deserves for threatening their free food supply.

[puppyplayhouse]

Step brother Hyunjin things

Warnings: puppy reader, degradation, blackmail, choking at some point, dub con, kissing.

Lil headcanon of mean step bro Hyunjin (who maybe is possessive) being a dick (it's so delicious tho)

Has known you since you were both little because your parents were family friends before their respective divorces, so he knows every button to push.

Constantly using Dad against you. It's a core part of his blackmail, really. Every time you're a little less than compliant, he pulls up one of the thousands of pictures he's taken of you during your times together and asks what you think Dad would have to say about it.

Calls you puppy when people are around just to get you flustered. He's amazing at playing it off so that nobody questions it because well, he's just a good brother and you've always been SO close.

Any time he sees you alone on the couch, he's tugging his pants down and tapping his cock against your cheek. Of course, you protest. You tell him that you don't know when your parents are getting back. He doesn't care, though. He tells you that you should shut up and get to work if you don't want them to find out.

He's not always mean, though. You'd even say he's somewhat nice when you've had a really hard day and you come to him reluctantly, kneeling in front of him because you just can't be in control right now, and he's the only person who can take that from you.

He rewards you so well for that. For any willing submission you offer him, he returns it by making you cum over and over again on his fingers before he fucks you nice and slow, rolling his hips lazily into yours to drag out the low, whimpered moans that you let slip. He's only gentle with you when you earn it.

He loves to make you cum. He loves it even more when your pretty mouth is objecting to it and telling him he shouldn't be doing it, but your hips are bucking against him and your nails are digging into his arm in a pathetic attempt to ground yourself.

And he takes pictures every time. Sometimes, he'll force you to pose and use his fancy camera. Those are the more tasteful shots of you in pretty lingerie with wide doe eyes. Other times he's using his phone to capture the tears that spill down your cheeks as you gag around the length of his cock. He loves both equally.

He always has to degrade you. He'll pin you down completely still the movement of his hips as he makes you beg, always something along the lines of "C'mon, puppy. You were all talk before begging me to stop and now you're panting like a bitch in heat. Tell me you want it. That's it, more. I know you can do better than that. Tell me you're my worthless slut."

He knows you like it because your pussy is always dripping and practically pulses around him.

He would never admit it, but after a while you become the only person he fucks. Sure, he could have his pick, but he knows nobody else would look as cute as you do when you're staring up at him wide, panicked eyes, and tear stained cheeks.

He fucking loves seeing you cry. He loves watching you bite your pillow when he finds you laid on your bed and forces your pants down without a word, easily sliding his cock inside of you because you're always soaked at this point.

At some point he starts making you tell him that you love him. He has a firm grip of your throat and you're overstimulated to the point of becoming delirious as he uses one of your toys on you, thrusting it in an out of your aching cunt. "Tell me, and I'll stop, yeah? All you have to do is tell me how much you love me."

And you do. You say it like a prayer. You say it over and over again even after he's stopped, and he's got your cheeks cradled in his hands, cooing at you because you took everything he gave you without a complaint this time.

He was recording it, of course.

Recording you is his second favourite form of torture. He has so many videos of you sat pretty between his legs, your hands in fist infront of you like little paws as your tongue sticks out of your mouth, drool dripping down onto his lap to create a messy wet patch on the fabric of his pants. Those are his favourite to get himself off to.

Sweet brother Hyunjin is always nice enough to let you know when he's getting himself off to you. Which is every time. He sends you videos and pictures of his gorgeous cock fucking up into his hand and it's the only time he seems out of control, desperate for it to be you that he was burying his cock into instead.

Very rarely does he lay back and let you do the work. He likes taking charge and making a mess of you, but very rarely when you're being a good dog and sitting patiently, waiting almost excitedly for his next round of abuse, he lets you do the work. He'll pat his lap and wait for you to climb on top of him, watching in amusement as you fumble with his zipper and shove his pants down, messily grinding yourself against his bulge until he quietly tells you that if you don't move on, he'll leave.

You always perk up at that, taking it less as a threat and more as permission to sink yourself down on his cock. This is when he praises you.

He tells you how pretty you look and that you take his cock so fucking well, looking up at you with something akin to adoration sparkling in his eyes. He might even kiss you. His kisses are the ultimately reward, always slow and sensual. You become ravenous when he kisses you.

Maybe he'll even tell you he loves you. That you're his favourite puppy. He knows he loves you, and he has accepted that. But maybe he'll let you know when your grinding down onto his cock like the well trained mutt he has made you into.

He doesn't make it too sweet though. More like, "that's it. Take my cock, baby. Fuck, I love you. My desperate little slut. All fucking mine, yeah?"

[kokonoiis]

─── I SAID LOOK AT ME, GIRL INITIATION bonten x fem! reader ( 18+ MDNI ) 21.3k words you condemned three men to death tonight, or something worse than death, and there was nothing you could do about it but keep moving forward, digging yourself into a deeper and deeper hole until you could no longer see the sun. but you kept reaching up anyway, ever hopeful that you’d feel the warmth on your skin one day.

that day wasn't going to be today. how lucky for you, you've been promoted.

YOU CAN FOLLOW SIMPLE INSTRUCTIONS, RIGHT ? ─── active characters ﾉ hajime kokonoi, haruchiyo sanzu, ran haitani, rindou haitani, takeomi akashi mentions of ﾉ mikey sano, kakucho, kanji mochizuki

WHOEVER BETRAYS BONTEN WILL EVENTUALLY BECOME SCRAPS, TOO tags ﾉ dubious consent , degradation , praise , gangbang , power imbalance , pain play , exhibitionism , voyeurism , groping , mention of drug usage ( sanzu ), mentions of alcohol ( takeomi & rindou ), sadism , masochism , dacryphilia , size difference , violent sex , oral ( m. receiving ) spit kink , asphyxiation , fear play , face fucking , mind break , coercion almost , free use , violent language , unprotected sex , handjobs , misogyny ( takeomi ) , slutshaming ( takeomi, again ), bukkake , insults , mean characters , throat bulge , breath play , borderline unconsciousness , hair pulling , suspension , overstimulation , mentions of a breeding kink , multiple orgasms , mentions of a collar , dry humping just a little , humiliation , control , spitroasting , nipple play , canon typical violence , mentions of death several times , gang antics with bonten , and more..!

You were good at listening to orders. one of the best, in fact. It was more than just rare for you to mess up a direct order given to you by one of the executives above you, and that made you the perfect pawn. You could be molded into anything they needed at the time, the perfect canvas for crimson red handprints to cover your body. 

Innocent wasn't exactly the word, it was more like naive, and belligerently hopeful, even when you faced the worst. It was like you couldn't really see the world around you, not completely anyways.

" Sir, " you took in a deep, shaky breath, holding the manila folder in your hand as you walked into Hajime Kokonoi’s office, knowing you'd delivered exactly what you had been told. Even if it came at the cost of other people's lives. " I have the names. "

" Good, good, " Kokonoi didn't even bother to look up from his desk, his throwaway laptop open with the screen away from you, making it impossible for you to see what he was working on, but you thought that it was better the less you knew about what he did for work considering what he had you doing for work. " How many ? "

" Three, " you announced, sitting the manila folder down. For such a simple interaction right now, this had taken more restless nights and more dangerous situations than you really wanted to let yourself think about. It almost felt like it was downplaying and trivializing your efforts. To be fair, it was. 

Sniffing out traitors wasn't an easy job – whether it was checking money wires, phone calls, tailing people, reaching out through connections and plenty of ' friends of a friend ‘ – getting these three names had taken about three weeks of your life that you weren't going to get back. 

You felt blessed by some god that you knew wasn't looking that you didn't have to pull out the gun you kept on you nearly at all times, although you had needed to talk your way out of a situation that could've ended in bloodshed more than once.

" The names ? "

" ..Shinatsuro Kamo, Mikane Shuichi, Chihara Fumihiko. Two of them are in your shell IT company, different branches though. One of them worked as a bartender in the Haitani brothers’ strip club, " you explained in a soft voice, crossing your arms, trying to show that you were just as serious about this as he was. You'd figured out a long time ago that showing pain was nothing more than a big red target on your back, and you had enough eyes watching you for now. " All three of them were connected to the same mole. From what I know, they don't know about each other, at least not their identities, although they may be aware that there are other rats. "

" Did they even try to cover their tracks ? tch. " Gently closing his laptop, Kokonoi grabbed the manila folder, looking through the files you'd put in there. 

Birth certificates, addresses, current pictures of their identity cards, check stubs. You had it all there. None of that was easy to get a hold of, especially not when each of them had more than one different name they went by. But you tailed their trails until you got to their birth names, and had it all down. You even had pictures of one of them from middle school with the worst haircut you’ve ever seen on a kid. 

" You did good. its thorough work for only three weeks with only a vague notion of where to go. "

" Yeah. You'd think next time I might get a bit of hint, " you joked softly, and you swore you heard Kokonoi chuckle a little bit, his hand reaching over and tucking his straight white hair behind his ear as he read through the files, sorting things out on his desk. " Going through the entire list of Bonten's higher ups wasn't easy. "

" The entire list ? "

" Mostly. I knew better than to look into the executives, but I had to check anyone below your status, " you backtracked to answer his question quickly, knowing damn well that if you ever looked into the executives above you, you were as good as dead. The cops would never find your corpse and no one would remember your name. 

Being wiped off of the face of the planet wasn't exactly in the plans of a good night for you, not after all of that work. It had been the worst mission you'd been sent on yet, but you completed it hopefully with flying colors.

" That's good, " Kokonoi sat out the three I.D card copies, examining each one of them. He didn’t outright deny your thought process, but you knew that he didn’t need to. There were some open secrets in Bonten that everyone knew without needing to talk about them. " So these are the men ? And you're sure of that ? "

" If you don't trust me, trust the trails they left behind. "

" We'll have to double check your work, " he pointed out, although with each file that he pulled out, he seemed more and more convinced that you were right in your deductions, which is what you were hoping too. You knew that there was a chance something didn’t add up, that you could be wrong, even with all of the hard work that you put in to get this information. It was small, but this was life and death. " Can't just send men to die without a checks and balances system, right ? "

" Who's going to be checking my work ? " you tried your best not to think about the fates of the men that you were damning, but failing miserably. You hoped that it show on your face.

" Sanzu. "

" So they're dead. " There was no way that Sanzu was going to go the silent path of making sure that all of the trails led up properly. No, he was going to get the answers out of them with chains and saws and pliers. Whether they were guilty or not, they were as good as dead. Death might be a mercy for them if they’re stuck with Sanzu.

Hopefully, you thought, they would give up quickly and spill everything out before Sanzu really got to having fun. Once that happened, who knows how long he would play with them until Mikey gave his orders to finally end their lives. Could be hours, could be days. You hoped that they weren’t as dumb as they seemed. If they can’t cover themselves up properly, at least they could give up easily.

" Well, " Kokonoi put all of the files away back into the manila folder, closing it and sitting it to the side of his otherwise pristine desk. His voice almost sounded light, like he was laughing about it, although his face was still mostly neutral. Kokonoi was hard to read – it wasn't like he was crazy like Sanzu, or quiet like Mikey and Kakucho. No, he was witty and sarcastic, but he was so in the way that it wasn't really actually funny, just dark. Just actually depressing. He told the truth and covered it up with a smile. " You never know, maybe he's feeling merciful. Either way, you'll be there when Mikey decides what to do with them. "

" Ah, thank you, Sir. what an honor, " you couldn't stop yourself from sounding a little bitter about it, knowing that you would witness the culmination of your hard work and honestly, you didn't really want to. Listening to three men that you brought down to Sanzu's favorite warehouse cry and scream out in pain wasn't exactly your idea of a good time, but a direct order was a direct order, and you weren't about to mess up just because you didn't want to. There was plenty of things that you've done that you can't exactly say that you're proud of, and you just thought you were going to add this one to the list.

" We'll see to it that you're there. It'll be your first time in the warehouse, right ? " Kokonoi asked, although he already knew the answer, " I believe it's time to talk to Mikey about making it official. "

" It ? "

" Your work here, I mean. "

" I've done a lot of unpaid labor if this is just the internship, " you mumbled underneath your breath, earning a curious quirk of Kokonoi's eyebrow, but he didn't say anything about your attitude. He was one of the few executives you could talk to like a normal person and he wouldn't paint the walls with your brains.

" You're sort of more like a secretary right now, " Kokonoi clarified, steepling his fingers together and sitting his chin on them, a strand of his hair that he had just pushed back already falling into his eyes as he looked up at you, his sharp eyes taking in your appearance as if he were dissecting you piece by piece, and maybe he's thought about it before. You could never be sure with the Bonten executives just how deep their contempt for humanity ran. " Granted, the papers you bring me aren't exactly just the weekly wealth management reports, but more.. unique to your position, I should say. "

" Despite the others' strengths, there's only one within the executives that's particularly good at sniffing out rats, " Kokonoi continued after your silence, " So it only makes sense that you worked directly underneath me during your time here, given what you do. But to continue your job in a more effective manner, you should be.. promoted, in a sense. Instead of me being the middleman, giving you orders from Mikey, you should get them directly from him instead. Cut out the middleman and there's less room for error. There's no way any information can get lost in translation and cause errors to occur. "

What a professional and roundabout way to say that now, if you fucked up, it would be on your head, and he didn't want to risk having his name attached to your line of work. " I see. so you're wanting to ' promote ' me to executive directly underneath Mikey, instead of working just for you. "

" Precisely. I knew you were smart, " he smiled, eyes narrowing as he watched you shift your weight from one foot to the other, feeling a little awkward underneath his gaze. " I still need to suggest it to Mikey, but I'm sure there's going to be little pushback. He's seen the work you've done before this. Everything goes back to him, after all. "

Mikey has eyes and ears everywhere, that much you knew. You, very much so, were considered one of them. Not only did you look out for others within your ' position ' you also were watched by them. You were just particularly good at your job, it seems. What a lucky soul you were, living this life.

" Yes, Sir. "

" Wonderful. Then you're dismissed until a later notice, secretary, " he straightened up, the term slipping from his lips more like an insult than anything else, finally glancing back down at his laptop in front of him, opening it up to continue what he was doing before you came in. " You'll hear word from someone about what's going to happen and when. Be there, although I have no doubt that you won't. "

" Yes, Sir. " You repeated once again, and turned on your heels, your footsteps echoing as you headed towards the door, trying to hold your head high and keep your posture as straight as possible. If there was one thing you were good at other than executing orders given to you, it was keeping up appearances.

" Oh, and one more thing before you go. There's a lady acting up from one of the Haitani brother's clubs, could you check up on her for me ? I believe she's been starting some unfortunate whispers about your connections to me, and I'd like to have that squashed as quick as possible. "

Ah, she thought the two of you were fucking. It was understandable, everyone within a certain ranking knew who you answered to, and who you spent most of your time around, and that included the managers of the Haitani brother's clubs, who often had to answer to Kokonoi for their revenues. You were sure that one had seen you come in or out of Kokonoi's office and tried to connect the dots. 

In fact, you were almost sure you knew exactly who it was: the man who tried to hit on you and you shot him down relatively quickly. You'd been tired that day and didn't even want to entertain the thought of men, especially not one as sleazy as he was, so you may have sounded a little ruder than you anticipated. 

Perhaps he took your denial and then saw you come out of Kokonoi's office and tried to connect the dots to make his ego feel better. What was his name ? Atsuku Tsukima, you were fairly sure. You had most people who were in higher positions in Bonten memorized already, it just sort of came with the job after combing through their names for hours on end. You'd have to pay him a little visit, and check up on that girl of his. 

You also figured you might have to check up and ask why he was telling some random girls at his club about the business of people that he has no right to stick his nose in, too. 

" Yes, Sir. “ You answered him one last time, your hand on the door handle as you turned your head to throw him one more look, finger already holding down the lock so you could push it open. “ I’ll return in a few hours with an update for you. I don’t think she’ll be saying much more about it anymore after tonight. “ 

“ I don’t believe so, either. “ 

Looks like you could sit down your hopes of getting an early day tonight. Of course you had to run around for one more errand before you could really call your day complete, just to get up and do it all over again tomorrow. 

Once you walked through the door, you could feel it all coming back to you at once, like a rush of all of the emotions you’d suppressed to the best of your ability. The fear, the sickness in the pit of your stomach, the regret. 

You condemned three men to death tonight, or something worse than death, and there was nothing you could do about it but keep moving forward, digging yourself into a deeper and deeper hole until you could no longer see the sun. But you kept reaching up anyway, ever hopeful that you’d feel the warmth on your skin one day. 

That day wasn’t going to be today. 

Just barely three days after you delivered your report to Kokonoi, you were told the date and the time that you were expected to be in the warehouse with the presence of the other executives, and the leader of the whole organization. You knew that this day was coming, but you honestly could say that you were kind of hoping that Sanzu struggled to find them for a little while longer, if only to put off your own discomfort. But of course, you hadn’t let anyone find out that you were snooping around to the traitors, so the three men had no idea what was happening and probably continued with business as usual. 

You’d known about the warehouse, and even knew the general location and its main use before you’d even been there for the first time. It was just an old storage facility for a car manufacturer that Kokonoi had a hand in. Technically, the warehouse was Kokonoi’s property, but Sanzu spent more than his fair share of time within the uninsulated metal walls. 

You’d only met Sanzu once, and that was a very short time when you were delivering something to Kokonoi and Sanzu just happened to want to chat with him at the same time. 

Even then, you understood early on not to fuck with that man. He was unhinged, with more screws loose than anyone else within Bonten that you knew. Looking at him in the wrong way could potentially mean that you were liable to get your neck snapped in half like a twig, if he was feeling generous that day. 

A few of the Bonten executives you’d never met before were there, as well as Mikey, the leader of it all. You knew of him, heard stories about the kind of person he was through the grapevine, although you could never tell if they were the truth or fiction, even saw his face a couple of times. You’d heard about the man who was once called the Invincible Mikey, who was now a shell of a man and apathetic towards anyone and everyone. 

But you’d never been face to face with him before, and you never really could say that you really wanted to, either. You were perfectly okay with being unnoticed by all of these people that you knew you’d soon be meeting. Or at least, you weren’t important enough to be a name that they saw more than once or twice, with the exception of Kokonoi. 

If someone became important enough that several of them were looking into your name, you usually didn’t live long after that. Usually, that means you did something very, very wrong.

The warehouse was a sweaty cold the moment that you walked inside of it. A large open space, with plenty of crates and carts and parts strewn around. Things underneath tarps that you were smart enough not to look at too closely, especially if something brownish red was leaking out from underneath. It wasn’t insulated, and didn’t have any air conditioning, either, making it just uncomfortable to be in for longer than needed. You felt your fingers and the tip of your nose getting cold, and the bones inside of you rattled a little as you took in a shaky breath. 

Walking forward through the surprisingly well lit yet dusty atmosphere, your footsteps echoed against each wall, sounding a thousand times louder than you were actually walking. There was no way that anyone wasn’t aware of your presence by now, not that you were really hiding your presence to begin with. You weren’t brave enough to try to sneak up on anyone here. Towards the back, you only halfway knew what to expect. You could already smell it when you came in.

The three men you personally condemned were there, dirty, bloody rags tied in their mouths, their arms tied behind their backs with duct tape wrapped around their bodies. Each man was crying hysterically; one, you were sure, even pissed himself. You could smell the stench of urine before you even got a good view of what was going on. There was a cart next to the men with a saw on it, some pliers, unidentifiable chunks of meat that you really didn’t want to look at for too long, knives, scissors, a lighter, and some matches. 

Sanzu was definitely having his fun, and you had the realization that they’d probably been caught the moment you left Kokonoi’s office. You wouldn’t be surprised if forwarding the information to him was the first thing that Kokonoi did after you left. Which probably meant that these men have been in here for days. 

The executives each stood around, some of them looking bored, and others looking on with interest, less about the men being tortured and more about what was actually happening to them. Sanzu stood above them with a gun in his hand, his second favorite choice of weapon, although you were almost positive that he didn’t necessarily care what was in his hands as long as he was able to cause mayhem. 

“ Ah, welcome, “ Kokonoi was the first one to greet you, his hands in his long red shirt’s pockets. You really never realized just how detailed the gold embroidery in his outfit was until you look at it glittering in even the mustiest of areas. Compared to everyone else, Kokonoi stood out the most to you, but that was also perhaps because you knew him the longest and you were the most comfortable around him than anyone else. 

You found yourself gravitating towards Kokonoi before you really even told your feet where to go. With everything going on around you, Kokonoi was the safest option. You held your hands behind your back, one of your hands holding onto your wrist, tilting your head as you looked up at Kokonoi. “ You haven’t been waiting long, I hope ? “ 

“ Not long at all, I believe you’re early, actually, “ he mused, not really caring enough to check the time on his watch. “ I thought you would arrive by the time Sanzu finished off the traitors, but Mikey hasn’t given his order yet. Maybe he was waiting for you. “ 

“ Maybe, “ you agreed easily, nodding slightly as you took a look around. The Haitani brothers were sitting on some metal cargo crates, with the younger brother, Rindou, looking a little bored, a small pout on his lips as he watched Sanzu move around the three sniveling traitors. 

To the side, was a man you didn’t know with a scar across his face, but you knew he was important. He looked like he would be hard to approach, and he wasn’t even watching Sanzu, his eyes were just on the floor, looking down at his own feet perhaps. He didn’t look bored, just indifferent to it all, like he would rather be anywhere else but here.

Close behind Kokonoi was a tall, huge blond man, his expression unreadable. It looked like he hadn’t even taken notice of your presence, or that he was looking past you. He didn’t really look like he was watching Sanzu, either. He looked lost in his own world, his eyebrows knitted together in concentration. 

Towards the back, there was a short man sitting down munching on some takoyaki, not even facing the rest of them, and a man close by him with a jacket on but no shirt staring at the exit as if he were already ready to go. 

The three men tied to the ground were writhing around in their pity, trying desperately to free themselves from the situation, fighting against the duct tape hopelessly. Seems one of them had a missing eye, and the other’s leg was busted completely. 

Sanzu laughed, leaning back almost morbidly and dropping a pill from his hand into his waiting, open mouth. Swallowing it, he screamed at the top of his lungs. “ Bring down bonten’s hammer of judgment on the traitors ! “ You thought it was an odd thing to say, but you weren’t going to say that out loud or you definitely would be next.

Sanzu leaned down to the ear of one of them, his finger pressed up against his pursed lips, “ Shh, shh, shh ! Pay attention to Mikey’s words ! “ He looked over his shoulder, his piercing gaze going right through you as he waited for the command of the man eating the takoyaki. 

“ Kill them. “ Mikey’s empty voice was so soft you barely heard it, but it was still audible, if only barely. And that’s all that Sanzu needed. 

You closed your eyes for the next few seconds, wanting to turn to hide, but unable to do that. The three gunshots rang out so loud it buzzed in your head as if you were the one who got shot. It sure did feel like you had, anyways, with the way that your heart lurched in your chest. The stench of blood permeated throughout the area, sinking into your nostrils, choking you with the scent of metal. 

“ Those who don’t fit in Bonten are scraps..! “ This time, you could feel his gaze on you before you even opened up your eyes, tearing you apart. He was directly talking to you, the newcomer within the executives, that much you didn’t need to be a genius to figure out. 

You sucked in a breath, feeling your hands shake behind your back, but you refused to mentally acknowledge that you were scared. If you did, there was a chance the persona you’d seemingly perfectly crafted could unravel at any time, and you were sure that wouldn’t end well for you. No, it was better if you pretended you were unaffected by everything, at least for now. You just had to hold out.

“ Make sure to clean up the dead bodies, “ the man with the scar on his face called, the look on his face best described as apathy. He didn’t look like he cared, nor that he really felt any type of way at all. There was no emotion behind those heterochromatic eyes, just tiredness. Exhaustion that went bone deep. You sort of knew how he felt, but it was still unsettling to look at in front of you.

“ Crush and freeze them. Turn them into fish bait, “ the blond man behind Kokonoi suggested, earning a small chuckle from the older Haitani brother. 

You knew about Ran and Rindou, who had killed when they were children and it just went downhill from there. They’d been on the path of bloodshed since they were kids, but their story wasn’t particularly unique. 

Kokonoi was on the same path since he was young, too, who you’d heard bits and pieces about during your time working underneath him. He’d been a financial treasurer since he was a child, always controlling the puppets around him to do the dirty work for him. If he could help it, Kokonoi never had to lift a finger, he just had to hold out his hand for the profits and keep his finger on the pulses of the most income, no matter what was bringing that money in. 

“ Keep it in your heads, everyone, “ Kokonoi gave you a little smile, his voice holding a hint of a dry, dark joke in there, “ Even between us, whoever betrays Bonten will eventually become scraps too. “ He leaned in close, until his nose was inches away from yours. “ That’s how Bonten works. “ 

You didn’t think you needed the reminder, but the words chilled you to your core anyways, as if you were learning for the first time what kind of organization you worked for.

You kept your head straight ahead, looking at him in the eyes, but you couldn’t stop yourself from swallowing hard, letting out a small shaky exhale through your nose, giving him all that he needed to know about how you were feeling right now. 

“ We have her to thank for bringing these traitors to light, right ? “ Ran asked behind you, not moving from his spot as he examined the way your hands shook behind your back, and you were glad he didn’t mention it. “ If she’s here, then that means.. oh, it wouldn’t happen to be her initiation, right ? “ He said it like he didn’t know, but you were sure that they had all been briefed beforehand about your arrival.

“ I swear, it’s like Sanzu gets to have all of the fun, “ Rindou shook his head, sounding a little annoyed that he had no part of the action yet. “ Where’s her tattoo going to be ? Has Mikey decided it yet, or is someone else choosing for her this time ? “ 

“ Mikey said that it needs to be on her chest so it stays hidden when she’s out and about, “ Kokonoi answered simply for you, finally moving away from your face to look at the Haitani brothers. “ It’s important that her tattoo isn’t easily spotted, so it has to go in a spot that most people would cover up. “ 

Finally interested in what was being talked about, Rindou’s eyes widened, and he almost looked excited, his eyes going wide with a goofy grin on his face, “ No way ! We’re putting the tattoo in between her tits ? “ 

“ That’s what the boss said. “ 

While you were occupied with listening to the conversation, Sanzu was moving along behind you, tucking the gun into the belt of his pinstripe pants. You could hear him moving about with the way that each of his steps echoed throughout the warehouse, but you didn’t dare to look back at him. Not yet, at least, unless you found yourself looking at something that maybe you didn’t want to see. 

“ Hey, Mochizuki, come help me with these goddamn bodies ! “ Sanzu yelled out, his voice strangely cheerful as if he were saying something completely normal. “ Since it was your genius idea to freeze them, you should be the one to pack them up into the cart so I can take them somewhere they’d freeze later. “ 

You thought it was just the way his voice carried that made him seem like he was closer than he actually was, but a hand smacked down on your shoulder, quickly jerking you back to look up at Sanzu. “ Can’t have the stupid little secretary getting sick while we tattoo her, yeah ? ..Is secretary the right word for you, or does snoop work better for you ? Since all you do is find people and bring them to me for me and Mikey to judge. Ah, I can’t tell which one works better. Maybe they both fit you. “ 

You kept quiet, letting him ramble on about what mildly insulting title fit you best, but you could feel the color drain from your face as you were brought face to face with this killer. Sanzu was insane. There wasn’t a single part of him that could ever even remotely be considered normal by any standards. He’d lost all of his marbles so long ago that you weren’t sure if he even remembered a time that he had a coherent thought that wasn’t about his next fix of murder or drugs. Not that you could ever in your life voice these opinions out to him, unless you wanted to end up as fish bait. 

“ I’m going to be doing your tattoo today, it’s a pleasure, “ Sanzu grinned lazily right in your face. His pupils were dilated, and he looked a little unsteady, but he kept himself relatively straight, rolling his neck and tilting his head as he got a better look at your face. His neck popped several times with a sickening crunch, and you wondered briefly if it had to hurt, or if he could even feel it. “ This is yours, Kokonoi ? “

“ Yeah. She worked underneath me. “ 

“ Underneath you ? “ 

“ ..Yeah. “ 

“ Hm. Ooookay, “ Sanzu didn’t say anything else, pulling himself away from you and turning right on his heels to help Mochizuki, the man with the blond hair, so you’d learned, with moving the bodies into a crate for later use. You looked up at Kokonoi, trying to keep your face neutral and honestly failing pretty badly at this point. 

You were terrified not only of Sanzu, but also about everything that was going on around you. This was more than you were expecting, and possibly even worse than anything you could’ve imagined so far. You weren’t sure if it was the cold or the absolute terror in your body that made your limbs feel like they were going numb. You couldn’t think, using the last of your resilience to stand up straight and not break down where you stood. 

“ I think that means he likes you, “ Kokonoi mentioned casually, either unaware of your feelings or simply uncaring about them. you didn’t know which, but it was better you didn’t ask. 

“ Maybe he’s trying to see how long it takes for you to snap ! “ Ran called out, laughing a little at his own words, and earning himself a chuckle from his younger brother. You were sure you really didn’t need to hear that. Maybe Ran was the one who wanted you to snap, maybe they all were waiting for the moment where you just gave up, but you weren’t going to do that. You just had to get through this tattoo and then you were going to get the hell out of there. 

You’d worry about the next executive meeting when it came down to it. But all of this in one night was far too much for you. You brought those men to this warehouse in the first place. Although you weren’t the one who pulled the trigger, you were the one who put the red target on the back of their heads anyways. Their murders were on your hands as much as they were on Sanzu’s. You’d think after all of this time within Bonten, you’d have your head on straight and would become numb to the feeling of blood slipping through your fingers. 

You did not.

“ She doesn’t really look like a killer to me, “ Kakucho shook his head, barely giving you a glance before he passed on his judgment to you. “ She’s better as an informant than with the actual gun, but having her in the executive ranks was up to Mikey. He has a better idea on what’s best for Bonten than anyone else. “ 

“ I think she could kill ! If she was pushed far enough ! We could push her and see what happens, “ Rindou chimed in with a little nod, pretty proud of himself for his observation of you. 

You had to think for a second, your eyebrows knitted together in concentration as you thought about it. Could you kill ? Could you pull the trigger on someone else’s life and cut it short ? You didn’t know. Sure, you’d hurt people before, and maybe those injuries had left them to die, but you’d never seen the lights fade from someone else’s eyes. You weren’t sure you wanted to, either.

You were learning pretty quickly that there was a lot of things that you didn’t know, and a lot of things that you didn’t want to know.

You did know, however, that all of the men within the warehouse was staring at you, judging you, picking you apart and trying to see what made you tick inside. Trying to see everything about you, the good, the bad, the wrong, the ugly. Even without their eyes directly on you, you knew you were being watched. That you were always tabbed no matter what you did or where you went. 

And these men were not the type of people to take notes and then go find someone else to deal with any potentially incorrect behavior, they were the reprimanders. They were the ones who ended the lives of plenty of people every single day. Innocents, bystanders. Anyone. Everyone. No one was safe from Bonten’s grip.

And you so naively had walked right into their hands. 

They would take your wings and rip them off of your body so you could never fly again, so you would be stuck in the pits of hell just like they were. Even sicker, is that they knew you would come to enjoy it after a time. a caught animal never outgrows its cage, after all. You were nothing more than an animal for them, a pet. And you were about to get permanently branded as one, too. 

The realization hit you harder than you cared to admit.

“ Come on ! Sit, sit ! Don’t waste more of my night here ! “ you hadn’t realized that Sanzu was back now without Mochizuki, and he had grabbed a metal folding chair, slapping it down a few feet in front of you. 

He tapped the back of it a few times, letting you know that he was getting impatient with you just standing there and staring at him, although it’s only been a few seconds now. You swallowed hard, moving over to take a seat on the chair, feeling the cold of the metal even through the fabric of the pants you were wearing. 

Now that you were sat, the world within this warehouse felt a lot larger than you’d previously thought. You could see how high the ceiling was, and could feel how absolutely suffocating the freezing air around you truly was. You couldn’t breathe in deeply without the lingering scent of blood and the overwhelming scent of something molding and rotting. Every breath you took stung your lungs, the cold having seeped into your skin and reaching the marrow of your bones. 

“ Gotta find my tattoo gun and get everything ready. you sit there and look pretty, “ Sanzu sneered out, hand clapping on your shoulder once before turning around to do exactly what he said he was going to do. You knew that this was likely not exactly the safest way to get a tattoo, nor would it be the easiest to deal with. 

He was a few feet away when he turned back for a second, his face surprisingly serious when he stared at you. “ Oh, and take off that shirt and bra or I’ll rip the shit off of you when I come back. “ 

Not a single part of you wanted to take off your shirt, but you found yourself with your fingers nimbly working on the buttons of the white dress shirt you were wearing anyways. Whether it was out of fear or out of habit to follow orders, you weren’t sure, and you weren’t going to think too much about it, either. 

The fabric slipped off of your shoulders, and you twisted over to have it cover the back of the chair so you didn’t have to press your back against the cold bare metal. 

You took off your bra slower, fumbling with the front clasp before shrugging it off of your arms, letting it drop onto the dirty floor. instinctually, you covered your chest up, wrapping your arms around your tits. But you already knew that your attempt at modesty did nothing. Everyone who was looking already saw. 

You couldn’t make eye contact with anyone, your head down, looking at your lap while you waited sort of patiently. There was no way this was going to take longer than twenty minutes, and then you could put your shirt back on and never think about it again. 

In between all of the genuine fear and lightheadedness that you felt, you also felt a pit in the bottom of your stomach form, tightly coiled but barely noticeable or distinguishable from the other coursing emotions rushing through you. In your haze, you didn’t think about it, didn’t even acknowledge that it was there. 

When Sanzu came back, he had a tattoo gun in his hands, and a cart that you really hoped wasn’t the cart that he just had his torture weapons sat on, and that pile of flesh that you really tried to erase from your memories. “ Hold your tits and keep them spread for me. I can’t work if my canvas is covered. “ 

You nodded, sliding your arms apart and grabbing your own chest, keeping the skin taut so he could work properly. 

Originally, he was just leaning over you, his posture awkward and probably uncomfortable for him, if he could feel his own body, but he decided that he wasn’t close enough, so his free hand that wasn’t holding the gun grabbed your leg and forced your thighs apart, stepping in between them so he was closer to you. 

It only took him a moment before he came up with another order, clearly still unhappy with the way that you were sat on the chair for him. “ Scooch your ass nearly off the edge of the chair. You’re sitting too straight. “ 

Before he gave you a chance to answer or follow through with his demands, Sanzu grabbed your hips, pulling you forward until your butt was nearly hanging off the chair, and you needed to plant your feet firmly into the floor to keep yourself from falling. Your eyes widened, trying not to make any noises from the way that he had grabbed you in such a way, completely manhandling you as if you were just a doll for him that he could throw around and pose how he wanted. 

“ S-Sir- ! “ You yelped, desperation hinting within your tone. 

Once he was happy with your position, completely ignoring your little yelp, he started to clean the area, the alcohol freezing cold as it hit your skin. It wasn’t until the tattoo gun turned on, and he dipped the needles into the ink that you realized that there really was no backing out of this now, not that there ever was. 

Your grip on your own chest tightened, nails digging into the skin as Sanzu leaned a little closer. As he got nearer, he shuffled propping his knee up on the edge of the chair, right in between your legs, pressing against the sensitive flesh of your most intimate area. You wanted to gasp, but the sound caught in your throat.

You didn’t have time to say or do anything as he finally touched the gun to your skin. No one really could’ve prepared you for what it felt like when Sanzu made the first mark on your skin. The needle was so close to the bone of your sternum, it felt like a painful vibration that shook your entire diaphragm, stealing your breath away. You closed your eyes tightly, breathing through your nose, nails digging into your chest so hard you swore you were going to break the skin. 

Oh, god, it hurt. It hurt so much worse than you were anticipating. 

Everything about this was wrong. You couldn’t stop yourself from tearing up, your entire body shaking from the tattoo gun needle going in and out of your skin. It didn’t feel like a million tiny little stabs like you had expected it to feel, more like the constant drag of a serrated blade against your skin, tearing at your flesh and forcing you to watch as it inked you just below the surface level. 

But the pain wasn’t really the worst part of it, it was just the catalyst for what set off every single one of your fear reactions after being on edge this entire time. You knew you were being watched, that every man had his eyes on you and were watching with rapt attention. 

It was something about being watched that pricked at your skin, making you feel everything far more intensely than you thought you would, like their eyes on you was some kind of aphrodisiac. 

You weren’t sure when anyone moved from the places that they were at previously, but now there were important, dangerous men circled all around you, watching as you were positively defiled by Sanzu and the tattoo gun. They were like vultures watching their next meal, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

You felt pathetic, and watched, and used. And it didn’t help that in between your legs, you could feel just enough friction that it made your already tense body clench up even further, his knee pressed against you as he focused on getting the lines perfect. You were trying to find something, anything to focus on that wasn’t how you felt in this very moment. 

“ You’re playing with the big boys now, little lady, “ Rindou hummed behind you, his voice almost melodic as his hand found it’s way to your shoulder, giving you a grin that you didn’t look at. 

“ Look at her shake like a leaf ! “ Ran snickered as he leaned down, his eyes narrowed while he looked at you. You could feel his breath hot on your neck, but it took everything out of you to wrench open one eye to see what was going on around you. 

Your eyes immediately met the older Haitani brother’s gaze, and you felt your heart leap out of your throat. Why was he so close ? Why was he looking at you like that ? You could feel the fat of your thigh bounce a little as you shook underneath their gazes. 

" Can this bitch stop fuckin' squirmin' ? " You could hear Sanzu's voice cut through your thoughts and the sound of the tattoo gun whirling that made your head spin a little bit. 

You felt small and insignificant, around all of these important men, shirtless and sat in a dirty old metal chair in the warehouse where a few men lost their lives because of you today. Your hand was covering your chest, keeping the skin taunt for Sanzu as he hovered over you in between your spread legs, one of his hands coming down to rest on your hip, knee pressed against you lewdly. 

Rindou chuckled, keeping his hand on your bare shoulder, feeling each jump of your muscles with every drag of the tattoo gun on your skin. “ Maybe not, but she sure is cute, don’t you think, Koko ? “ 

“ Mhm, “ Kokonoi was staring at you, you could feel his eyes examining your face scrunched up in pain as you tried and failed to keep your breathing steady, his features unreadable other than a small little smile on his lips. “ That’s my secretary for you. “

“ She’s fuckin’ adorable. Better like this than when she’s trying to act like a big shot in a world not built for her, “ this was the first time you’d heard Takeomi’s voice, and you were completely unsure where his voice was coming from, but all of the voices sounded like they were surrounding you, echoing off of the warehouse’s walls and amplifying them tenfold. 

You could also hear every pitiful little noise that came from the bottom of your throat no matter how much you tried to keep yourself calm. You were whimpering, your chest threatening hiccups as you fought back tears. It was too much. They were all mocking you like you were just a toy, something weak and easily broken, snapped in half like a twig. 

“ No way, is she gonna cry ? “ Ran gasped, his eyes wide as he noticed the tears that were threatening to bubble up in your eyes. 

“ She is ! Look at her cry ! “ The embarrassment of the Haitani brothers calling you out for crying was enough for the tears to finally overflow from your waterline, streaming down your face. You leaned your head back, eyes closed tightly as you tried to stop yourself from crying and hiccuping. 

You felt like a stupid school girl getting bullied by the older kids on the playground, your body on display for them as Sanzu etched black ink lines into your skin. Your cheeks felt bright red, and you wanted to pull away from Sanzu, and run and hide from them. Maybe if you ran fast enough from this god forsaken warehouse, they would take a few days to catch you.

As if it were a type of sick punishment for all of the sins you committed, Sanzu shifted just a little, knee rubbing against you and making you gasp loud through your messy, fat tears, your noises reverberating on the walls of the warehouse. You couldn’t hide that reaction, not even from yourself. 

Fuck, you needed more of that feeling, the pain of the tattoo gun almost dulling for a moment before the pain came back.

" ..She’s crying ? " If you didn't know any better, you'd really think that Kakucho almost sounded worried for you, but no one there had any intention of stopping Sanzu from finishing your tattoo. 

This was something that all Bonten executives had to go through, you knew this, almost like an initiation of sorts, and of course you were no exception to this case. 

But it didn't help that you were shirtless, and you could feel the eyes of several men staring at your body, taking in the sight before them. A few seemed to be enjoying your pain far, far too much, but you were in no position to say anything to them at this very moment even if you could, not when you could barely get out a sentence without whimpering.

“ Pathetic little bitch can’t even stop crying f’me, “ Sanzu murmured underneath his breath, his hand finding its place back on your hip, holding you still firmly against the chair. “ Stay still for me or I’m gonna fuck up. I’m almost done. shit. “ 

With each little line he drew on your skin, you really couldn’t think of anything other than the pain, their eyes on you, and the pressure between your legs. The embarrassment, stinging, and friction created the worst amalgamation of sensations throughout your entire body, you didn’t know whether or not to cry out in pain or moan out, or to break down sobbing. 

You were thinking that you might honestly do all three at the same time. You needed something that could ground you and bring you down from the headspace that you didn’t really want to be in, and before you really even had a chance to think about it, you opened your mouth to speak. 

“ K-Koko..! Pl-please.. ! “ You whimpered, hot tears falling from your eyes as you looked up for him, desperate for something, anything. 

“ She’s the cutest ! “ Ran laughed, his hand trailing down your shoulder to your hands that were still holding your breast, squeezing it a little bit. His actions didn’t go unnoticed, but you didn’t have it in you to say anything about how his long, calloused fingers felt pressed against the soft, pillowy flesh of your tit.

“ Shh, shh, “ Kokonoi shuffled around a little bit so he was directly behind you, his hand ghosting over your sensitive little neck, holding your head and tilting your chin back so your head rested on his stomach. 

“ You’re okay. Don’t even worry about them, don’t listen to a word they say. You’re doing so good, can you keep your eyes on me, pretty girl ? Look at me, look at me. You can take it, right ? Just a little more. “ He whispered softly, his voice slow and soothing, piercing through the low rumble loud in your ears through the pounding of your eardrums. 

You couldn’t really say he was calming you down, more like he was distracting you from the soft, subtle touches of the other executives. Ran’s hand on your chest, Rindou touching right below your chest on the other side, dragging his nail against your sensitive skin, Sanzu holding your hip down onto the chair, Kokonoi’s hand playing with your hair as he hummed little pleasantries in your ear. 

They were all touching you, unabashed with the way they got tired of just watching and now wanted to participate in Sanzu’s defilement of you.

“ Pl-please, no- no more, “ you sniffled, looking up at Kokonoi with a pout on your shaky bottom lip. You saw him smile a little, and his grip on your neck tightened just a little bit, squeezing the sides of your neck, stealing what little breath you had. 

“ You can do it, pretty girl. You’re getting too worked up, need something to calm you down, yeah ? “ 

Sanzu shifted again slightly, his eyes trained on the flesh he was almost done marking. His knee rubbed up against you, causing you to gasp out loud, your eyes rolling back a little bit. Kokonoi hand that was on your hair tightened up a little bit, pulling slightly. 

“ I said look at me, girl. You can follow simple instructions, can’t you ? “ You winced, barely opening one teary eye to look up at him. 

He looked so sickeningly sweet, like the worst drug you could possibly get addicted to. Being surrounded by all of the Bonten executives, each one of them cooing at you in a mocking attempt to comfort you and touching at your body, it was making your already fuzzy head swim with too much to form anything coherent. 

It almost felt good, the dull, throbbing sensation flooding through your body in small little bursts with each stroke of the tattoo gun against your skin.

Ran’s fingers began to tweak at your nipple, rolling the hardened bud in between his two fingers, not even caring enough to be gentle. Rindou’s hand soon followed suit, pushing against your nipple in and rubbing small circles, his nail digging in just slight enough that you could feel it. The two of them were so in sync without needing a word, it was almost hypnotizing how good your tits felt in their hands.

Kokonoi’s hand was still tightly around your throat, squeezing enough just to steal the breath from your lungs. He seemed pleased with how limp your body had gone by now, how all three of them could touch you like this and you didn’t try to fight back against them. He wasn’t a sadist like the Haitanis or Sanzu, but he did enjoy watching someone crumble right underneath his fingertips. Especially someone as beautiful and pathetic as you, it made it all the more enjoyable.

“ Maybe she’s finally given up on trying to be a bad girl or whatever and is ready to be a slut like the rest of them, “ Takeomi finally mumbled underneath his breath, standing behind Ran and Kokonoi and watching this all unfold in front of him. He didn’t need to touch you, not when the others were already getting you riled up past your breaking point. He was just watching and waiting for the moment where he’d be able to see the exact moment your brain turned off. 

“ There, see ? All done, “ Sanzu said finally, turning off the tattoo gun, sitting it down onto the cart beside him. “ Dumb bitch couldn’t keep still but I still managed to get it straight. “

“ I’m gonna finish you, it's gonna be cold and then painful. Don't be a bitch about it. " Was all that Sanzu said to warn you as he grabbed a wet rag, cleaning off the spilled ink from your chest. 

The coldness shocked you, causing you to jump up a little bit but it really wasn’t that bad. Then, completely out of the blue, he squirted the isopropyl alcohol directly onto your chest from the bottle, before wiping it off with some soaked gauze. 

You gasped, letting out a truly pathetic little scream with what little breath you had from Kokonoi’s hand around your throat as Sanzu cleaned the area almost too harshly for you. You'd been told that the alcohol hurt a thousand times worse than the actual tattoo itself, but it still managed to completely take your breath away, especially with Sanzu's cruelty. 

Kokonoi's hand moved from your neck to your cheek, letting you breathe finally as he gently wiped the tears that fell from your eyes. The act itself was so much more domestic compared to the spinning in your head, almost enough to make you forget about everything around you. You wanted to nuzzle into his hand and cry for even longer, but you stopped yourself from doing that. At least, you thought you did.

“ She’s like a dog trying to get affection from her master, “ Rindou joked softly, earning a little chuckle from his older brother. 

“ Maybe she’ll bark if we ask her to nicely. We can teach her how to bark like a mutt, “ Ran agreed, letting go of your tit. Everyone was gradually pulling away from you, at least far enough for you to gather your bearings, though you could still feel their eyes on you. 

You tried to push your legs closed, picking your head up from Kokonoi’s stomach, wanting to pick your bra up off of the floor, to regain some semblance of the dignity you had before you walked in here, wiping the tears with the back of your hands. But Sanzu stepped quickly in between your legs again, his eyes glaring down as his knee found a familiar spot in between your legs to keep you from closing your thighs together easily. 

“ Mm, bad dog. Keep ‘em spread. I have to show Koko something once I’m done cleaning you up, “ Sanzu rolled his eyes, grabbing a bandage to slap on your tattoo now that he had cleaned it up. He threw it on your chest over the tattoo, fingers surprisingly gentle despite his words. 

You knitted your eyebrows together, and Kokonoi shifted around so he could get a good look at what Sanzu was talking about.

“ You needed me ? “

“ Look. “

Kokonoi’s eyes locked onto your body for a second, looking from your face to the bandaged tattoo, down the your navel. You felt a little shy underneath his gaze, which was odd considering you’ve been half naked in front of him this entire time, looking away from him and sitting your cheek onto your shoulder, physically curling inward on yourself. 

After a moment, you saw his eyes wide as he noticed something, his gaze locked onto the crotch of your pants where Sanzu’s knee had been pressed against you. “ ..There’s really not a thought going on inside of that dumb little head, huh ? “ He asked, glancing up at Sanzu and then back down at your body. “ Feeling like that at a time like this.. Maybe you’re more fucked up than I initially gave you credit for. “

Rindou’s attention had been piqued by that, wondering what could have possibly happened, although he had a good idea by now, and he followed Kokonoi’s gaze to the seat of your pants, his face contorting into excitement as he turned to his brother, a cheeky grin on his face. “ She really got off on us watching her cry ! Look at her, she’s so fuckin’ soaked ! “ 

Your eyes widened, and your hand immediately flew down to hide the crotch of your pants, your face turning into a million shades of red within the moment. “ I-I– wait..! Hold on ! I– “ you stuttered out, trying to find some good excuse, but everyone there knew there really wasn’t one that you could give that could possibly explain such a strong reaction if it was just Sanzu’s knee pressed against you. 

Sanzu couldn’t stop himself, or rather made no attempt to stop himself, as one of his hands came up to rest on your shoulder, knee rubbing up against you through the thick fabric of your slacks. It was almost pathetic how quickly your little denials about what was going on turned into squeals of pleasure, head leaning back to look up at the ceiling of the warehouse as Sanzu tested how sensitive you really are. 

“ She really is cute, “ Ran said finally, grinning as he reached for your tits again, this time he wasn’t trying to be sneaky about it, and you seemed more than willing to let him cup your tits with both hands as he stood behind you, rubbing and playing with them. “ Maybe we really should teach her how to bark, she’d make really cute sounds. “ He made it sound like he was just joking when he suggested it beforehand, but you weren’t entirely convinced that was the truth now. 

You wanted to protest, to tell them to get their hands off of you and let you get dressed so you could go, but the words died in your throat somewhere along the way, leaving just little helpless whimpers and breathy mumbles of some sound that might’ve been ‘ please ‘.  

Rindou was quick to take Kokonoi’s previous spot behind you, letting your head rest on his stomach with his hands in your hair. He peered down at you, shooting you an evil grin that really only told you that you were in some serious trouble with the Haitanis and Sanzu touching you like this. 

Without him even really needing to say, you knew that he wasn’t as kind as Kokonoi was. Where he was at least kind enough to pretend to console you, Rindou was not that kind of person, not really. 

With his hand snaking down your side profile down to your throat, Rindou used his finger to keep your head tilted for him. His knuckles grazed against the column of your neck with his thumb nail pressed into your chin, forcing you to only look at him while the other two men touched and defiled your sensitive body that was already on the edge of it being way, way too much. “ What ? Not gonna call out for me to come save you like you did for Kokonoi ? “ 

“ She probably knows you’re not going to save her, “ Ran pointed out, hands eagerly pulling at your nipples, causing you to squeak out in surprise. You could faintly feel something trickle down your bottom lip onto your chin, but the thought really didn’t cross your mind to be concerned about it until you heard Rindou speak up again. 

“ She’s drooling now, “ Rindou pointed out rather bluntly, and you were reached forward sort of absentmindedly, wanting to wipe away any evidence of what he was talking about, but it really only incriminated you more. 

The older Haitani laughed a little at your little action, and you had to wonder briefly if those two ever only talked to each other or if they could actually interact with the other executives. You were pretty sure that these two could forget that others were in the room with them with how much they talked with just themselves.

“ Is she ? That’s too cute, “ Kokonoi called out from somewhere to the left of you, although you weren’t exactly sure where. The warehouse made everyone sound far closer than they actually were, with voices sounding like they were right in your ear the entire time and giving you no time to process what little thoughts you were actually having. 

Really the only thing you could think about was the way Sanzu’s knee was pressed up so deliciously against the most sensitive part of your body, the way his hand gripped your shoulder hard enough to hurt, digging into the bone of your shoulderblade. He’s not saying anything, his eyes glued to the spot on your crotch that was starting to soak through his own pinstripe slacks, causing the dark pink color of his suit to turn even darker right where he was pressed against you. 

There was no way that Rindou couldn’t see it play plain across your face the moment that Sanzu’s knee jerked slightly, pressed against your clit through your pants in a way that made your eyes roll back in your head for a moment. “ There she goes, all fucked out and stupid, “ he snickered, leaning down to your face, hand tightening around your throat as he finally gave it a squeeze, forcing a little gasp from your lips. 

You could see his eyes flicker away from you for a moment to what you could really only assume was Sanzu’s expression, but he looked back down at you moments after, neck still in his hands as he brought himself down for a kiss from you. As if on cue, Ran pinched both of your nipples harshly, making you moan out into the kiss just moments after his lips pressed against yours. 

Rindou tasted like alcohol, and it almost made you want to scrunch up your nose in slight disgust at the strong flavor of several different alcohols mixed together. He didn’t act drunk, not really, but you could only imagine that he was six or seven drinks deep by now. 

Maybe that was why he didn’t seem to have any reaction, even looking bored, when those gunshots rang out earlier. maybe he really was just like that, and there was no explaining him or anyone else here. 

you’ve been kissed before, and touched, but there was something about having six hands on your body at once that brought your mind spiraling to a place that you weren’t even sure you’d ever been in before. You felt like nothing, like every muscle in your body was suddenly torn into pieces and left you boneless and weak while surrounded by these men. 

You could feel eyes all around you, taking in your disheveled, desperate state. Kokonoi was definitely watching, and possibly that older man, Takeomi. You were vaguely aware that a few people were missing, but you couldn’t possibly really think about what that could mean. Were Mikey and Kakucho also just watching ? What about that other guy, Mochizuki, or had he completely left all together to go take care of those bodies ? 

The idea of people watching you somehow made you more nervous than the six hands actually touching your body. Were they disgusted ? Did they think you were just some common whore ? Did they pity you, or something equally frustrating ? Before you walked into this warehouse, you had a decent grasp on who you were in Bonten. 

Now, you weren’t sure about anything other than the knee pressed up harshly against you that with every movement from either you or him, it sent a shock of pleasure up your spine, and the slight pain of your nipples being punished and abused, and the strong taste of alcohol on your lips that you swore you could get drunk off of. 

If there was a light at the end of this, you were pretty sure it was just the glaring, annoyingly bright florescent lights overhead, or the hazy feeling in your stomach as all of the sensations started to overwhelm you, the pit in your stomach growing bigger, needier, with every moment. 

Right before you could really focus on that feeling, Sanzu’s knee pulled away from you, and you tried to jerk your head away from Rindou to look at him, but his grip on your neck tightened, keeping you firmly in place against him, and refusing to let you go just like that. 

At your gasp, he pushed his tongue inside of your mouth, the taste of his saliva momentarily shocking you from really reacting. 

Fuck, whatever bullshit you were thinking about him tasting like alcohol was wrong, and you knew it now. He tasted divine. Like someone you could get addicted to kissing and forget about everything else in the world, and there was no doubt that Rindou knew that you were enjoying his kiss, too, especially with the way that your body almost instinctively reacted against his touch. 

You could feel your pants being tugged off of your body, the fabric that had been so soaked against your pussy peeling off uncomfortably, making you want to squirm around in that cold metal chair. One of the hands on your tits glided down your stomach, leaving goosebumps in its wake as Ran slipped his hand into your panties, more curious than anything else about your body. 

“ Fuck, “ Ran whispered under his breath as his pointer and ring finger spread you open, his ring finger dipping into your heat, and you could hear Sanzu grunting in agreement immediately, like he knew just how soaked you were without even touching you properly. “ She’s so fucking wet. A sopping, needy little thing. “ 

Rindou pulled away, if only for a moment, leaving your mouth open and waiting for more of him. He’d been something that grounded you in place, to not have his lips on yours almost felt inexplicably wrong. With the distraction gone, however, you tried to peer back at Sanzu and Ran, but Rindou had a tight grip on your hair, keeping you from moving your head. 

“ She is needy, “ he agreed, his voice a soft purr as Rindou looked down at you, clearly tempted to kiss you again, but refraining from doing so. Ran’s ring finger curled inside of you, finally breaching your soaked little hole and making a pathetic noise fall from your lips.

“ Most sluts like her are, “ you could hear some shuffling around as Takeomi spoke, and you had to wonder how close he was. It wasn’t until he was right in your face, grey eyes with a scar running down one side of his face peering at you like he was looking at something below him. 

Compared to the amusement dancing around Rindou’s eyes, and the faux comfort in Kokonoi’s, looking at Takeomi was like looking at someone who’s hatred for you went deeper than his own bones. 

With your head pulled back, you couldn’t do much as Takeomi leaned in closer, pulling the cigarette out of his mouth and blowing the smoke directly in your face. You shook your head, trying not to cough, but in the end the taste of nicotine choked you, and you couldn’t help your body’s natural reaction of wanting to fight back, trying to pull your head away from Rindou’s grip as you coughed. 

Takeomi’s hand moved to grab your face, causing you to stiffen against his grip. His fingers dig harshly into the soft flesh of your cheeks, forcing your jaws apart and your mouth open. You weren’t sure just how many bruises on your body you were going to have after you escaped from this warehouse, but you already knew that you’d have his fingerprints on you that would take days for them to properly go away. 

Without a warning or any inclination of what he was doing, he spit in your mouth, the filthy act making you immediately recoil in surprise, eyes blown wide as it hit your tongue. 

It tasted bad, like cheap alcohol and nicotine, the flavor enough to make you want to retch ever so slightly. your knee bounced up and down as your face scrunched up, nose crinkling in distaste and you momentarily entertained the thought of spitting it back out of your mouth to get the taste out quicker. But you didn’t get far with that thought.

“ Swallow it, “ Kokonoi ordered simply without a moment’s hesitation, as if he could read your thoughts. 

You could feel your stomach drop down to your feet, but something inside of you told you to listen, like you couldn’t really deny Kokonoi – or anyone else here, really – if they told you to directly do something. You were the best at following orders, that’s what got you so far up the ladder in Bonten. It was an act that you had perfected down to an art form, and you weren’t easily swayed out of old habits.

With your mouth still forced open by Takeomi, you let the spit that had hit your tongue drip down to the back of your throat, gulping just enough that it went down. 

And with that, Takeomi pulled away only slightly, his hand pulling away from your cheeks and letting you close your mouth again. His much larger hand rests on one of your cheeks for a moment, almost tenderly, before delivering a small slap to your face. 

It didn’t hurt all that much since your body was primed and ready for pain after everything that has happened today, it just shocked you a little, and you let out a little gasp of surprise when you felt the slight stinging on your cheek. But Takeomi moved away from you after glancing over your body one good time, taking in every one of your curves and the dips of your body, his gaze somewhere in between reverent admiration and absolute hatred. 

“ She really takes orders from Koko still ! “ Ran snickered after everything settled for a moment, his finger still stuffed deep into your cunt, curled to hit that spot within you that made you want to moan out and forget everything except for the feeling. 

“ Yeah, don’t you know you’re an executive now ? You don’t have to take orders from Koko, “ Rindou pointed out in agreement to his older brother, like usual going along with whatever Ran says and just being mean. His grip on your hair softened a little bit, but he didn’t want you to look back just yet. “ Or any of us, really. You don’t have to listen to a single one of us anymore other than Mikey. “ 

Was Mikey even in the warehouse anymore ? Did he have any say over what was going on, did he simply not care, or was he enjoying it, too ? You now knew that Takeomi was there and participating, but it still felt a few people weren’t, or at least, they weren’t active in touching you. 

Mochizuki, Kakucho, and Mikey weren’t there yet, something that you wanted to ask about, or at least figure out who was touching you and who was just watching. But you didn’t have a good idea of your surroundings, your vision usually forced a certain direction by the people manipulating and violating your body.

Before you could say these thoughts, however, Ran’s hand moves away from your pussy, pulling out of you completely and moving away from your body just slightly, and Rindou had all but completely let go of your hair, although your head was still back as you tried to catch your breath and gather your thoughts. You wanted to whine about the lack of contact, the sound welling up in your throat.

You didn’t really have time to do either one of those things as your legs get hoisted up over Sanzu’s shoulders, body pressed against his in a way that had your head reeling with the new type of contact. You’re barely hanging on to the small metal chair, ass almost hanging off of it like you were bound to fall any second now. 

Its not until you feel your panties being pulled to the side of your cunt that you can really get a good understanding of what was going on, or what was about to happen. 

“ I– wait– “ you started nervously, glancing down to look at Sanzu, but he wasn’t looking at your face, his eyes lowered at where your body was against his. 

You didn’t want him not to do it, some part of you was more excited about this than you cared to let on to anyone, even if everyone could already see it on your face without you having to say anything about it. You could feel your own wetness drip down your body and onto the ground below you, probably on Sanzu’s shoes or the cold cement ground. 

“ Mm– no, I’ve been waiting long enough, “ Sanzu said impatiently, his voice still holding just a little bit of that bark it had when he first met you. Sanzu was mean, and he didn’t pretend to be anything less than that. Cold and detached from most things, you knew that he didn’t care really if you were absolutely ready or not. 

“ Bitch is fucking soaked f’me, god, “ he mumbled underneath his breath, more to himself than anyone else, but the Haitanis both let out little chuckles at his words anyways. Ran, in particular, who’d spent the last few minutes prepping you for him, not that you really needed it or anything. 

You found yourself holding your breath as you watched him unbuckle his belt and tug his pants down, the outline of his hard cock visible before he even got it out yet. 

Fuck, you were going to die. It wasn’t so much the length of him that made your stomach twist in nervous knots as it was the look on Sanzu’s face, like he was going to take exactly what he wanted now that there was nothing between the two of you. 

You wanted to beg him for just another moment, but you knew that your pleas would fall on deaf ears as he let go of one of your legs to guide himself into your entrance. With a swift, fluid motion, Sanzu pushed himself into you, the stretch of having him inside of you making mewl out in pleasure, little moans escaping from your throat. 

Both of Sanzu’s hands went back to your legs, pulling you a little closer to him as he began to fuck into you with a pace that bordered on violent, his hips meeting yours as he embedded himself in your gooey walls entirely with each thrust. He was barely pulling out, his entirely length disappearing completely inside of you, his balls hitting the plumpness of your ass every movement. 

“ A-ah.. f-fuck..! “ You whimpered, gasping a little bit as he fucked you, unrelenting in taking what he wanted. You tried to say something, but your words were incoherent and incomprehensible, your voice hiccuping in your throat as you just moaned like a desperate whore for him, for all of these men around you. 

After being pushed to the edge for so long, first with the tattoo and then with the teasing and now this, you couldn’t hold on anymore, not with how Sanzu felt inside of you, and the feeling of being watched by everyone around you, hands letting go of the chair that you’d been holding onto as you felt your orgasm crash over you almost painfully. 

You could hear each one of your pathetically loud moans reverberate off of the walls of the warehouse, making your desperation for more all the more obvious to each one of them. You could feel the force of each of Sanzu’s thrusts bouncing your entire body against the metal chair, until you couldn’t stay on any longer, ass falling off of the chair and you let out a scream of surprise, but Sanzu didn’t let up.

He bent over slightly, still deep inside of you now as he let out several little grunts, a mixture of annoyance and pleasure as he felt your body squeeze around him. Your legs were still thrown over his shoulders as you tried to reach for the ground, your body suspended completely in the air with no good way of reaching the ground below you. 

There was no way, was he really going to fuck you while you were upside, just like this ? You could feel the blood rushing to your head as you gasped and writhed around in his grip. You could hear some chuckling and something that sounded similar to a man’s moans that wasn’t Sanzu’s all around you, but you could really only look up and see everyone, and finally you got a good idea of where everyone was around you. 

The Haitanis were on either side of Sanzu, both looking down at your limp, hanging body as he fucked you like this. Ran was lazily stroking himself with his pants barely tugged off of his waist, while Rindou was still busy palming himself through his pants, clearly wanting to make himself wait as long as possible before he gave in and touched himself without anything in the way. 

Takeomi was a little ways away to your left, his dick in his hand as he watched you squirm around in the air like the slut he thought you were. 

Kakucho was a little ways away, his arms crossed as he watched the other Bonten guys touching you. Despite the expressionless look on his face, you know you saw a bulge in his pants that he had to be ignoring on purpose, and you wondered if he would even give himself a chance to indulge himself a little bit even if you asked him personally to join. 

You had no idea where Mikey was, or Mochizuki for that matter. You were pretty sure that the latter was probably out taking care of those bodies for Sanzu, or didn’t care enough to stay, he didn’t seem like the type to touch people like this. Maybe he had no idea this was even happening and would be pissed if he knew he missed out on… whatever this is. You didn’t know him well enough to really make any good decisions about him, or anyone for that matter. 

Kokonoi walked up to you, the look on his face unreadable as he got close enough for you to grab onto him, and you did, digging your nails into the expensive red fabric of his long shirt to try to pull yourself up even somewhat. His hands reached up and held your lower back, straightening you out just slightly so you were face to face with his crotch, and you realized exactly what he wanted you to do. 

“ Open, “ he demanded simply, letting you grab onto him as tight as you want to. You knew that he didn’t mind being your anchor as long as you did as he asked, and you were in no position to deny orders from him, not like this. 

He had his pants pulled down just enough for you that all you had to do was open your pretty mouth and let him slide himself in, and you found yourself almost eager to do so. You had known him for quite some time now, since before he let his hair grow out and bleached it. If there was anyone here that you could admit that you were secretly rather excited to touch, it would be Kokonoi. 

He’s not huge, which you were rather grateful for because you didn’t want to struggle to take him when you knew that you couldn’t really pull back. Kokonoi would be the one controlling how deep you took him and when you got a chance to breathe, like your body was no longer yours at this point. ‘

You were starting to believe that it wasn’t.

Willingly opening your mouth for him, he almost looks proud as he pushed his hips forward into your mouth, letting you taste him for the first time. His dick was leaky, precum coating your tongue almost immediately, the taste sweet and salty at the same time. He looked like he took good care of himself, body hair well kept and he smelled really, really good compared to the faint scent of blood and gunpowder that you’ve been smelling in the air this entire time. 

He pushed himself completely into your throat, the column of your neck bulging as you took his entire length, and you had to grab at his shirt tighter to keep yourself from writhing around. Kokonoi seemed to understand that you were struggling for just a moment, rocking his hips back and forth to let you get used to the new intrusion. 

It was hard to calm down your throat enough to properly take him with Sanzu still stuffing himself inside of your drenched cunt, like he didn’t care if you were struggling with someone else and certainly wasn’t going to stop himself because of it, and you couldn’t help but mewl and moan around Kokonoi’s cock, drool from your lips dripping down your face into your hairline. 

“ Fuck, just like that, “ Kokonoi whispered, his hands going down to grab you by your armpits to keep you up so you could free your hands up. With him holding onto your arms like he was, and Sanzu still having your legs on his shoulders, you were completely suspended in the air, the only thing holding you from falling being the mercy and pleasure of these men around you. 

Your arms were limp in the air below you for a moment until a tender hand came to grab yours, almost immediately guiding your hand to his cock so you could stroke it. 

“ Come on, little girl, “ Ran purred, his voice condescending as his hand tightened around yours for a moment, guiding your fist to stroke him the way he wanted you to. “ Stroke me just like that, make me cum just like that. You can do it. “ 

Rindou, of course, wasn’t far behind him, finally having worked himself up to a point that he couldn’t control himself any more and absolutely needed to feel your touch on his dick. 

He unzipped his pants and shrugged them down to his knees, grabbing your other hand and guiding you the same way that his older brother had. “ Nghh– fuck– “ he mumbled under his breath, trying to keep his cool as he felt your fingers wrap around his cock almost on your own. 

The two brothers hold your hands for a while, either one of them having their own preferred way of having you touch them. Ran preferred slower strokes, with your fingers tighter around him. He clearly enjoyed your hand on his dry cock, maybe the almost painful friction was something that he liked, although he did smear his precum around his tip and it very soon began to coat your hand in the thick seminal fluid. 

Rindou wanted it much faster, and honestly preferred to buck his hips up to meet your hand instead of waiting for you properly. He spit on his dick to make sure the glide was nice and smooth for him, but honestly with how leaky his dick was, it wasn’t even really needed. 

You had thought Kokonoi had a lot of precum, but no, Rindou continuously leaked all over your hand and his, his grip on your hand barely anything as he jerked his hips up to meet your hand with each little movement, like he was trying to fuck into your hand. 

Moans filled the entire warehouse as your entire body was being used, either your own or from several of the men. Surprising nobody, Ran was the most vocal, mumbling stuff under his breath about how good it probably felt to fuck your mouth or pussy if your hand felt this damn good. 

Rindou made a little noise in agreement, but at this point he was so worked up that he was too focused on reaching that high more than anything else, devolved into nothing more but little moans as you fisted his cock for him. 

“ You’re doing so good, “ Kokonoi praised quietly through little moans of pleasure, his hips rocking forward and back. Your nose was pressed against his balls, throat bulging almost painfully. 

You could barely breathe, and being upside down this entire time really didn’t help you find your breath, either. Praise really wasn’t something you were expecting in this situation, not with how cruel and mean these men have been to you this entire time, but Sanzu quickly squashed that, anyways. 

“ Good for nothin’ pocket pussy, “ he grunted out in between thrusts, his hands grabbing at your waist now that you weren’t half-way fighting against him holding your legs like he was. He squeezed your tummy tightly, feeling his fingers dig into the plushness of your body. “ Should’ve fucking known this is all she was good for. Runnin’ her fucking mouth to the wrong people for us and being a hole for the right ones. “ 

You didn’t want to admit that his words got to you, your body clenching up just slightly at how fucking mean he was, but it did anyways. You moaned helplessly against Kokonoi’s cock, earning yourself a little grunt of approval from him. 

“ Shit, she likes it, “ Ran muttered breathlessly, and you could feel his hand move from yours to trail down your body, fingers playing with your swollen and painfully ignored clit, making you gasp and whine in response. His hands really must love wandering, always on some part of you. First your sensitive tits, now your throbbing clit. “ She really is a masochist for– ah, fuck– for this shit, huh ? “ 

“ She’s gotta be, “ Kokonoi answered in total agreement, his grip on your arms almost painful. 

You hadn’t even realized that you were now fisting both of the brother’s cocks on your own now without their assistance, although your own movements were messy and uncoordinated compared to when you were being guided. It wasn’t exactly your fault, but it didn’t seem like either guy really minded at this point in time, something that you were secretly grateful for. 

Rindou didn’t say anything as he fucked himself into your hand, desperate for just a little more, his eyes screwed shut as he lost himself in the pleasure. He was honestly making rather cute little noises, small desperate moans slipping from his lips with every little touch from you. 

You were only vaguely aware of the other men in the room, of Kakucho and of Takeomi, until Takeomi slotted himself in between Ran and Sanzu on your side, dick pressed against your tit as he stroked himself close to you. 

You could feel your nipple getting wet from precum as he moaned out from his own hand, his low voice honestly taking you back for a second because you weren’t sure if you’d heard anything hotter than a man forgetting about where he was or who he was because of your body like that. 

You figured that he was sleazy enough to enjoy this kind of stuff, probably enjoying watching you get used like a cumrag way more than you wanted to know about. 

“ Shit, this bitch.. “ he groaned to himself, voice strained as his hand quickened its pace, needing just a little more before he reached his peak. You tried not to focus on it too much and instead keep your attention on the Haitanis and Kokonoi, and the incredible pleasure of Sanzu in between your legs like he was. 

“ Fuckin’ quickshot, “ Sanzu chuckled, gripping your hips a little harder. You were almost frustrated with Takeomi’s position, because now Ran had moved his hand away from your clit to make room for him, but Rindou quickly replaced that position for him, almost desperate to touch your cunt for the first time himself. 

Rubbing little circles against the sensitive little nub for you, his fingers were much faster and rushed than Ran’s, like he couldn’t wait to see you come undone on Sanzu’s cock, something you found was rapidly approaching whether you cared to admit it or not. 

At this point, you weren’t even sure how many times you could possibly cum on one dick, but something inside of you told you that you were about to figure it out today. It all felt so good, every part of your body and nerves standing on end with every little bit of contact, like you were a hair trigger away from losing it all. 

You couldn’t tell if you were cumming on his dick with damn near every thrust, or if it just felt that good to be touched and used like this, like you were something precious to all of them and like something they could throw away at a moment’s notice at the same time.

You couldn’t lie, not even to yourself, that you were enjoying this probably way, way too much. And that thought, somehow, scared you more than anything else today has. 

Were you really that fucked up ? Really that masochistic ? 

Feeling Sanzu so deep inside of your guts your belly bulged with the outline of his cock, and the painful stretch of your throat around Kokonoi’s, you knew the answer without having to say it.

Takeomi didn’t answer Sanzu’s taunts, instead he just let out a loud groan as he finally came, the thick ropes of cum painting over both of your tits as he released everything he’d been holding in all over you. 

“ Fuckin’ whore… Thinkin’ she’s some damn executive when all she’s good for is this, “ he hissed, speaking to you like you weren’t there, like you really weren’t anything but a set of holes to be used by these men in more powerful positions than you, more dangerous than you could honestly every hope to be. 

“ Yeah, yeah, but she’s so cute, “ Ran hummed in response, calling you cute for the hundredth time tonight, as Takeomi lingered, his hand coming up to play with your tits, smearing his own cum against your body. 

“ It was mikey’s decision to make her an executive, maybe he knew we needed some kind of stress relief toy. He couldn’t have picked a better one, shit. Your body really is perfect to be used like this, huh, doll ? Hm ? “ Ran asked, as if you could possibly answer him back, something he knew you couldn’t do with Kokonoi’s dick stuffed in your throat like it was. 

You let out a little whimper against Kokonoi’s cock as Sanzu hit a particularly sensitive spot inside of you, his dick throbbing with need from having you like this for so long. He was finally back to being quiet, his eyes narrowed as his fingers dug into your hips again, each thrust getting sloppier and more desperate than the last. 

It was clear that he was losing his composure, and quickly, and there wasn’t much you could do but pick a god and pray to whoever probably wasn’t listening to you anymore that he had the common decency to pull out.

Although, somewhere, a little inkling inside of you kind of hoped that he didn’t, but you squashed that part of you down before you could even fully realize the actual desire in your mind. Its not like you were going to act on it, you weren’t that stupid, but… that didn’t stop the idea from being there regardless. 

Rindou’s groans came from the back of his throat, his hips meeting your hand desperately as he reached that blissful ending too, 

“ Sh-shiiit, I’m gonna– all over your pretty tits, gonna– fuck– “ his words were almost incomprehensible as he moaned and whimpered on your side, body shaking as he finally gave up on holding off as long as he possibly could, not when he was so worked up like this. It felt too good, way too good, for him to be able to edge himself for any longer. 

“ Fuck, fuck– “ Rindou gasped out quietly, and you found yourself trying to focus on your hand a little more to be able to bring him to that peak he was searching so hard for as fast as possible. You could feel his breathing quicken, until he stuttered almost to a complete stop, hips barely rocking against your hand as you felt his cock desperately pulse and throb in your hand. 

The noises he let out were as close to heaven as you were pretty sure you were going to get tonight when he came, cum shooting out of his dick so hard it left Rindou momentarily dizzy and disorientated, only really able to squeeze his eyes shut and moan. 

You could feel it as his cum hit your chest and slightly further down your tummy, the second load on your tits only covering them even further. You had a little part of you that couldn’t help but think he was kind of cute like this, mouth panting little obscenities as he tried to calm himself down, hair stuck to his slightly sweaty forehead.

“ She’s so fucking good at this, even with her attention split, “ he groaned out, trying to catch his breath the best that he could moments after reaching his orgasm, “ Now that she’s an executive, we have to fuck her like this more often. Every Bonten meeting has to end like this, it just has to. “ 

Rindou let your hand drop from his dick, definitely far too sensitive to want you to keep going, but his fingers never stopped rubbing quick little circles around your swollen clit, wanting to see you come undone just like he had moments ago. 

Fuck, his fingers felt so good, especially in tandem with Sanzu’s thrusts into your sopping, desperate cunt.

“ Shit– she’s squeezing me real fuckin’ tight, just like that, “ Sanzu grunted out, his voice getting a little higher than it normally was. “ Can’t– fuck, can’t stop now, gotta fuck this bitch so good she learns her place. Nothin’ more than a damn hole for me to use. “

“ Fuck, yeah, but– damn, you’re making it hard to hold back, huh, little lady ? “ Ran teased, as you tensed up a little as you felt takeomi’s fingers tease your nipples, pulling at them slightly, flicking one of them with his fingers. He seemed mesmerized with your pretty tits, especially with them coated in cum like they were. 

Kokonoi’s grip on your arms tightened a little, pressing his body against your mouth and forcing you to deepthroat him, your airways completely covered or plugged up. 

You immediately started to kick one of your legs, hitting Sanzu’s shoulder repeatedly. You could feel the pressure in your chest build, the panic rising in you as your body started to fight back against not being able to breathe. Your throat clenched around him, drawing out an almost melodic moan from him. Even while you were struggling, he was still trying to draw as much pleasure from your body as he possibly could.

“ Shit, let her breathe so she stops kickin’ me like this, damn, “ Sanzu snapped at Kokonoi, which he only chuckled at before pulling back just slightly, enough for you to catch your breath without his cock in the way. 

“ I’m sorry, I just couldn’t help it. Her throat just bulges so nicely around my cock and she sounds so pretty when she gags like that, “ Kokonoi reasoned as you choked and coughed, trying to catch your breath the best that you could. 

It was the first time that you really had to come face to face with the very real reality that even if Kokonoi acts kinder than everyone else here, he most certainly was not actually kind, and was in this for his own pleasure as much as the Haitanis and Sanzu were.

Somehow, you weren’t as surprised by that revelation, and once your breath was caught, you opened your mouth willingly for Kokonoi to take your throat once again, tongue flat and waiting for him, and he did so immediately without hesitation on his part. Even with tears in your eyes and a mix of drool and precum all over your face, you were still so damn eager for him, something that he found oddly charming in its own way, and so attractive at the same time. 

“ I trained this throat so good, hm ? “ Kokonoi teased, although there really wasn’t any bite to his words anymore, not with the way you were so obediently sucking him off like that, your throat bruised but still desperate for more from him. 

“ God, fuck– “ Ran’s voice cut through to your attention, and he grabbed your hand again, back to guiding your hand as you stroked him off. 

“ Stop stealing all her attention, dammit. She can’t focus on me with you talking to her like that. “ His free hand smacked your ass harshly, grabbing at the fat of it, causing you to moan out against Kokonoi’s cock. The harsh impact almost made you want to sob, tears that were already streaming down your face threatening to come out harder. 

“ I’m almost there, just keep fuckin’ going, “ you could tell from the venom in Ran’s words that he was mad at you for unintentionally edging him, forgetting about your hand and focusing your attention on throating Kokonoi. 

Lucky for you, you didn’t need to focus any of your attention on Sanzu, he was perfectly content with using your body like a fuck toy and nothing else, but if you stopped paying attention to your mouth, you’d start to gag and choke around Kokonoi again. 

Ran alternated his hands really quickly, still guiding your hand on fisting his dick as if he didn’t trust you to forget about him this time. Now with his other hand freed up, it found your throat, squeezing at it, pressing against where your throat was bulging with Kokonoi’s cock. 

“ If you wanna focus on sucking dick so much, let me help you, little lady, “ he hissed, grip tightening slightly against your already bulging throat. You gagged, your body’s natural reflex wanting to kick in again, but you did your best to try to calm yourself down. 

“ Its okay, “ Kokonoi soothed you after letting out a small chuckle, watching how you struggled to take him with Ran’s hand tightly around your throat. “ You’re okay. You can take it, yeah ? Just a little more like this, just for a bit. He’s close, just gotta keep going until he’s done, okay ? Can you do that for him ? For me ? “ 

Its not like you could possibly say no, but still somehow his words did manage to soothe a part of you, even just a little bit. Although you could barely breathe, and the pressure around your throat was making your already dizzy head get even more light, you tried to find a medium in between all of this. 

Just a little more, just like that, exactly like Kokonoi said. 

You choked again, your entire chest heaving slightly as you tried to calm yourself down, legs shaking on Sanzu’s shoulders. “ She’s so fucking tight when she’s getting choked out like a slut, “ Sanzu hissed out loudly, “ Keep going like this and you’ll have all of us cumming with her, dammit. “ 

“ You get off on getting choked, yeah ? Not being able to breathe ? “ Ran asked rhetorically, his hand that was guiding yours speeding up. He didn’t move his hips to meet your hand like his younger brother did, but he was definitely biting back some noises, body tensing up underneath your touch more and more every moment. “ I can feel your throat all tight and bulging, shit. Gonna cum, gonna cum, pretty girl. Just fuckin’ like that. Don’t pass out on us, not yet. “

Ran’s grip on your hand tightened as he fucked himself with your hand, his patience running completely empty at this point. He was feeling so good that he didn’t have it in him to drag this out any longer, although every part of him normally would want to. Something about the way you were writhing underneath him, letting him use your hand for his own pleasure to the point you didn’t even fight back as he took your hand for himself, spurred him on more than he cared to admit out loud. 

Shit, you really were so cute to him, someone he definitely could see himself fucking again and again just like this. If he could somehow convince Sanzu to give up his spot in between your thighs like that, he’d make sure that your cunt remembered the shape of his cock. 

He threw his head back as he let out a low, quiet groan, finally shooting his cum all over your pretty tits. You felt yourself hiccup, trying not to heave again against Kokonoi as Ran finished, dragging the tip of his cock against one of your tits to get every last little drop on your perfect body. 

Finally, after a few moments of him basking in the moment, he let go of your throat and your hand, his breath coming out in ragged little gasps as he looked over your body, painted with the cum of three men including himself. Rindou and Takeomi were right, every meeting had to end like this. 

The world around you came back from going completely black as soon as his hand let go of your throat, able to suck in just enough air from your nose to keep yourself going for right now, even though it was difficult to breathe. 

He wasn’t the only one who was thinking the same thing, not by a long shot. Kokonoi was finally starting to lose his composure after staying so in control for the majority of the time, his chest rising and falling as he started to fuck your throat a little rougher than he previously was, the rocking of his hips that had been a slow, lazy pace getting faster and faster.

“ Can’t… Can’t hold it back anymore, “ he groaned, hips stuttering as he used your mouth, his balls slapping against your face with each movement. “ You’re so good, so fuckin’ good at sucking cock. I knew you were good with your mouth but damn.. “ Kokonoi’s breath hitched in his throat, clearly unable to keep going for much longer either. 

Your throat was so sore and bruised, your jaw hurt so badly a part of your mind was worried that it might be broken or bruised even though realistically you knew that wasn’t the case. You’d gagged so much that your tummy was in painful knots, the intrusion of his cock in your throat still causing your body to want to reject it, but it couldn’t do that right now. 

“ I’m gonna cum, “ Kokonoi announced, one of his fingers tapping underneath your arm just a little bit as he tried to warn you for it, like he knew that you were just on the edge of it being too much for you and needing a break. Despite knowing that you were right there at that edge, he had no intention of pulling out and cumming on your body, instead deciding that he had to cum in your throat and make you swallow it to the best of your ability. 

“ I’m gonna cum, okay ? You can swallow it for me like a good girl, yeah ? You’ve done so well so far, I know you can swallow it. “ 

You knew you were helpless in this, you could feel that hopelessness permeating all through your body that there was nothing you could possibly do but take it and swallow it all. 

Your eyes rolled back, body threatening unconsciousness. Despite the treatment of your body like an object, your poor cunt was soaked, Sanzu’s cock sliding in and out so easily as Kokonoi fucked your throat ruthlessly, holding nothing back anymore. 

A loud groan escaped his plump lips as he finally let go, his cock twitching and throbbing as ropes of hot cum filled your mouth. You wanted to swallow it all as you gulped a few times, you really did, but your body was screaming at you that you were either going to spit it out or you were going to pass out. 

It was a mix of not being able to breathe, being suspended in the air upside down, and being pushed past your breaking point that made the world around you threaten to go dark, fat tears streaming down to your hairline. 

Kokonoi pulled out of your mouth just moments before you collapsed completely on him, and you picked your head up, coughing up the remaining cum that you couldn’t manage to swallow on your chest. 

He almost looked apologetic for a moment, like he almost felt bad for fucking you past your breaking point like that, but he didn’t say anything about it, and the look was gone from his face relatively quickly when he realized that you were as fine as you could be in this situation, just a little lightheaded. 

“ We’ll work on you swallowing it all, okay ? “ Kokonoi promised with a sly little smile on his face, still holding you up for Sanzu, picking you up just a little bit so your back could rest on his chest. 

He was doing his best to soothe you while your body was still being used, trying to bring you back down from that experience of almost losing yourself there, but there really wasn’t much he could do other than hold onto you. 

You were really barely coherent, just sort of nodding along to whatever he was saying, your mind empty from most thoughts, eyes unfocused as you watched Sanzu pushed himself deep into your cunt like he had been for the last half hour now. 

“ You just be a good girl and take it for him. we’ll discuss your performance afterwards, “ Kokonoi pressed a small little kiss on your temple, the action itself painfully domestic and kind, and normally you would’ve found yourself blushing a little bit at the act.

“ Shit, you have no idea how good she feels, “ Sanzu’s hands held your hips, strokes longer and more erratic. It was impossible to think like this, impossible to have a single coherent thought with how fucked out you were, your entire chest covered in cum now, including the tattoo which had luckily been bandaged up by Sanzu before this all started. 

And still, despite being so fucked out, your poor hole completely abused and throbbing in both pleasure and pain, Sanzu kept going even through your haze, needing to reach his own high, and you were desperately crying out for him, your first words since you finally got your voice back pathetic little pleas for him. 

“ Pl-please, “ you whimpered, hiccuping a little bit, your voice high and slightly scratchy from how bruised your throat was, “ Please, Sanzu, please. “ 

“ Don’t even know what you– ah, fu-fuck, what you’re asking for anymore, do you ? “ he sneered in your face, barely looking up from where your cunt was being stretched out around his cock and drooling for him to look at your face. “ Gonna ask me to stop or keep going ? You want me to fuck you senseless, even more dumb than you already are, yeah ? Look at you, so fuckin’ pathetic. “ 

“ So fucking cute, “ he groaned out immediately after, biting his bottom lip as his hips met yours. He barely pulled out before pushing himself back inside your warm, gooey cunt, his eyes practically rolling back at the feeling of your body clenching around him so tightly, like you never wanted to let him go. “ So, so fuckin’ cute, stuffed with my cock just like this. “ 

Sanzu had been talkative this entire time, sure, but he was never talkative like this, to the point where he couldn’t shut up enough to catch his own breath, his voice ragged and broken, punctuated with moans and grunts from him. It was like he wasn’t going to be able to stop now that he had started, fucking into you like a man possessed, like he’d never had pussy as good as yours before. 

“ Maybe takeomi’s bullshit was right, maybe you were made for just this. No fuckin’ thinkin’, no workin’, just being a good, tight hole for me. All f’me. Shit, shit. “ 

“ Sa- Sanzu– Si- Sir– “ you sobbed out through quiet, mindless little moans, leaning your head against Kokonoi’s shoulder, breathing in the scent of whatever expensive cologne and body wash he usually used. 

The pleasure in your lower tummy was too much, the only thing that you could feel in your otherwise numb and yet too sensitive body. You couldn’t tell how many orgasms you had throughout this entire time, your brain to fuzzy to make sense of anything other than Sanzu’s body and Kokonoi’s presence. “ Pl-please– “ 

“ Gonna give you what you want, “ he snapped, glancing down at you, his eyes narrowed, his mouth opened to let out little groans, his eyebrows creased in his concentration on fucking you so good you forget everything except his name and your place underneath him as a cumdump. 

“ You want my cum, yeah ? Body already covered in it and you’re still so fuckin’ greedy. Maybe I should cum inside, just for a change. Have you completely covered and filled, inside and out. Shit, with the way your cunt’s squeezin’ me, I might actually– “ 

He couldn’t finish his taunts, pulling out of you quickly right before his cock twitched against the fat of your pussy, cum shooting from his painfully red dick across your body from your navel to the base of your chin. 

His grip on your waist loosened like he’d lost every muscle in his body, letting out a little groan as he finally reached that point. “ So fuckin’ good, best pussy I’ve had, takin’ me like a goddamn pro or some shit like that. “ 

You glanced down at your own body, mind sort of working down from your high as you saw just how covered you were in cum. There wasn’t a part of you that they had missed, with your tits and chest getting the majority of it all. Finally, they were finally done, and you could breathe… 

You laid your head back against Kokonoi’s shoulder and closed your eyes, exhaustion wanting to take over your body, but you knew somewhere in the back of your mind that you couldn’t go to sleep just yet, there was more you had to do right now. 

Kokonoi brought you over to that metal chair you had mostly forgotten about, sitting you down in it. Your body slumped over it, head lolled back as you tried to catch your breath. 

“ Mikey, she’s done, “ Kokonoi called out finally, voice not directed at you anymore and far colder than you’d heard him talk previously. 

He pulled away from your body, falling in line with the other executives as Mikey stood up from where he was sitting facing towards the exit, walking over to you. 

You were only vaguely aware of each one of his footsteps, even though they echoed off of the walls like everything else had. You were only sort of aware of everything, like the entire world was spinning and blurry around you, and you couldn’t focus on a single thing. You were pretty sure you were swaying, your head leaning heavily to once side, your mouth still hanging open as you panted for some air.

There was a long, drawn out silence as Mikey stared at your fucked out body, his expression unreadable, although you weren’t looking anymore. Your eyes were closed, and you were trying to bring yourself back down from everything that had happened, but you were in the clouds, and coming down was a lot easier said than done. 

There was something in the look in his eyes, like seeing you like this unlocked something darker inside of him, scratching at a more taboo itch than he was used to dealing with. 

He looked at the tattoo, the clear bandage on top of it covered with cum, spit, and sweat now, his expression unreadable. For a second, you might even accidentally think you see a hint of light in his eyes, but it's just the way the fluorescent lights of the warehouse reflected in his abyss.

You heard him ask something, something about whether or not you would like working as an executive. Something probably about your new position that you had been given, but you couldn’t make out the words, nodding along no matter what he had actually said. 

Your body and your brain were disconnected, leaving you somewhere in between the two states of absolute oblivion and being conscious and aware of your surroundings. 

“ Go at her again if you want, “ Mikey said finally, turning away from you after a moment of staring. “ She’ll be fine. “ 

The permission was so simple, but it only took a few moments before a pair of hands found your tits, eliciting a pitifully quiet little whine of pleasure from your lips as whoever it was pulled at your nipples and smearing the cum all over your chest a little more. you blinked your eyes open for just a moment, barely there anymore as you saw the gazes staring back at you, ready to make use of your body one more time for the night. 

Away from you, Kakucho’s ever watchful gaze stared at you, keeping his eyes on how you responded to each of the touches, even though you were somewhere far away right now. He clenched his hands to his side, internally fighting a war with himself on whether or not he wanted to join or not. It’d been way, way too long since he last got his dick wet.

Was this really your life now ? You took that step into this warehouse, and now you could never go back to where you had been before. You were an executive of Bonten, the tattoo on your skin a permanent reminder of exactly who you were, of exactly all you would ever be in this life. 

You were good at listening to orders. one of the best, in fact. It was more than just rare for you to mess up a direct order given to you by one of the executives that surrounded you, and that made you the perfect pawn. You could be molded into anything they needed at the time, the perfect canvas for white to cover your body. 

Innocent wasn't exactly the word, it was more like naive, and belligerently hopeful, even when you faced the worst. It was like you couldn't really see the world around you, not completely anyways.

Orders were orders, something that you were more aware of than the average person around you. If you were given an order, you did it without question. 

The tight black collar around your neck was the perfect little symbol for your status as one of the best. You didn’t have the key to it, and you weren’t entirely sure which one of them did, either. Although if you had to guess, your money was on Mikey or Sanzu. But its not like you really wanted to have the key either, not really. 

You walked down the street, the night air cold but not uncomfortable, and the sky was clear tonight, gun strapped to your thigh and not even attempted to be concealed. 

Your orders were simple today, and a part of you was pretty sure you wouldn’t even need to use your gun, not like you ever have. You’d had to pull it out a couple of times, sure, but you’d never had the need to pull out your gun before and take someone’s lives. 

That didn’t mean you didn’t have blood on your hands. You sent people to the executioner’s block several times over, like you were probably going to do today. 

Some stupid old man was causing trouble at one of the clubs the Haitani brothers owned, and you had reason to suspect that he was faking his connection with Bonten to get into a club meant for members only. 

How he was doing that, you didn’t know, because you were at least sort of aware of anyone and everyone within the upper ranks, often combing through their names and identities to sniff out people when needed. 

You didn’t have to show any proof of your identity at the door, the people there already knew not to ask questions your way, anyways. You pushed yourself through the door and into the loud club, the music so loud that it made your eardrums vibrate painfully in your ears. 

As usual, it was packed, with some people whispering in secrecy about whatever deal they were trying to make, others trying to get an easy lay from some of the girls there, and a few people there to drown out the horrors that came with the job with alcohol. 

Sure enough, at the bar, there was a sleazy old man leaning against the counter, leering at some lady, and you couldn’t recognize him. Whether or not that was the right guy, it was a start. 

Now all you really had to do was strike up a conversation, although that wasn’t something that you found yourself eager to do. Entertaining men like that usually meant that you had to act a certain way to get any good information out of him. 

Your heels hit the floor with each step you took as you made your way to the bar with a small, deceiving little smile on your face. You wrapped an arm around the girl like you knew her personally, “ Hi ! Sorin, it’s so good to see you again ! I missed you so much since you were away with your kids for the weekend. How are you ? “ 

The woman’s eyes widened immediately, a reaction you expected from her, considering you weren’t supposed to actually know who she was, but it came with the job. “ How– how did you..? “ 

“ How did I spot you in the crowd ? Silly, your hair is so pretty, I could spot it from a mile away, “ you responded quickly before she could stutter out her actual question, effectively shutting her up before she could give you away. This isn’t the first time you’ve had to play like this, and it wouldn’t be the last, but there was something slightly entertaining about being able to read normal people so easily, like you could see right through them. 

And in a way, you could. 

You glanced at the man, finally bringing your attention back to him now that Sorin was finally satiated for a moment, “ Who’s the guy, Sorin ? He’s kind of handsome, in a… unique sort of way, you know ? “ 

“ Shikichi Aoyama, at your service, “ he introduced himself, flashing you a mildly disgusting grin, clearly not taking very good care of himself. If the entire club hadn’t smelled like sex and alcohol and masked most other scents, you were sure his breath reeked.

“ Shikichi Aoyama… What a handsome name, “ you hummed as you pulled away from Sorin to let her gather her things and leave. 

You looked him up and down, wondering if he knew that you were aware that he lied directly to you. Shikichi was dead, you sent him to Sanzu personally last week for trying to siphon money from Bonten’s pockets into his own, you were sure about that. After all, you had been there to witness it go down. 

So if Shikichi was dead, but this guy was claiming he was him, who was the guy in front of you ? Looks like you did find the guy on your first try after all, something that you were silently glad about because if you had to talk to this guy for no reason, you were going to be grouchy about it for a little while. 

“ What are you doing here tonight ? Looking for a drink ? “ 

You hummed, pretending to think for a second before nodding, “ Yeah, I could use a drink or two tonight. It’s been a long night so far, and I have an even longer night ahead of me after I leave the club. “ 

You weren’t lying, not this time. You had a sneaking suspicion about what kind of night it was going to be, and you were sure you weren’t going to be getting too much sleep. After all, you had a meeting to go to pretty soon.

“ Aw, you poor thing, “ he turned away from you, flagging down a bartender to order some drinks for the two of you. While he looked away, you couldn’t stop yourself from rolling your eyes, only to spot two figures approaching from the corner of your eyes, and you mentally sighed with relief. 

“ Hey, little lady, “ one of the voices called, his tone dripping with false saccharine sweetness as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close to his side, something that you didn’t fight back. 

“ This the guy ? “ the other guy asked, glancing from you to the man in front of you, who was now trying to piece together what had happened in his head, still not recognizing the two men by your side just yet. i

It was something you found almost comical, because you knew what was going to happen next. This never failed to be a fun little watch, especially when you were expected to finish this up relatively quickly so you could make it to the warehouse on time.

“ Who the fuck are you two ? “ 

Ah, well, maybe you and the three of you would just have to be late for the meeting today, but it wasn’t going to be a big deal. 

You reached out and grabbed the drink that the bartender handed out, shooting it back as you settled into the bar stool that Sorin had been sitting on previously. 

Whatever drink this was, it tasted like ass, mixed with the cheapest vodka the club sold and probably club soda if you had to make your best guess, and you found yourself annoyed that this guy thought he really could woo you with whatever shit concoction this was. 

“ Damn, looks like you pissed her off, huh ? “ Rindou laughed a little as you made a face at the drink, sitting it down on the marble bartop. “ If you’re gonna buy a girl a drink, you have to at least make sure you know what she likes. And her tastes are a little more expensive than whatever you just gave her. “ 

Ran took one look at you and flagged down the bartender again. He didn’t need to say anything else or order, his go-to drink was already typically memorized by most of the bartenders, just like your identities. It was his bar, after all, so he could be a little difficult with their rules if he wanted to be. 

“ I said, who the fuck are you ? “ The guy asked, standing up from his spot at the bar, clearly ready to start an altercation, one that he probably wasn’t ready to finish. “ Don’t start giving me advice on girls, you don’t know shit. “

“ Mm, and you do ? “ Rindou’s voice was a sneer, laughing at him and just making the situation heat up even more. 

You wondered briefly if he was ever going to notice the gun strapped to your thigh, or Ran’s, or Rindou’s. All three of you were ready to go at a moment, although you would admittedly be a little slower pulling the trigger than the other two, something you weren’t afraid to admit. 

Kakucho was right, you were better as an informant than with the gun, but that didn’t stop you from having one if you needed it anyways. 

“ I know more than you. “ 

You couldn’t help but scoff a little at his words, wondering if he realized how idiotic he sounded, or if the alcohol was making him think that he was the coolest person in the entire club tonight. 

It was almost really, really funny how easily either one of the Haitani brothers could rile someone up if given the opportunity to have some fun with someone, and you couldn’t help but almost admire how they moved through life with such charisma that they practically dripped it. Nothing could phase them, nothing at all, it seemed. 

Other than a kiss from you, but that was neither here nor there at the moment. You knew that, you just simply didn’t say anything about it. Some things were better as a secret than they were spoken out loud, and you were pretty damn good at keeping secrets for people, especially your fellow executives. 

“ Yeah ? You know shit about girls ? “ Ran hummed, leaning forward to look at the man, getting right up into his face to look directly at him. “ You know anything at all ? You sure ? I don’t really believe you. Sorry, man. “ 

You almost snorted out in laughter, instead focusing your attention on thanking the bartender for the drinks that he had made for you. You passed one to Ran, and one to Rindou, keeping the other one for yourself and taking a sip of it through the tiny little straws. It was fruity, with more cherry grenadine than anything else. 

Ran turned to you, taking a sip out of his own drink and giving you a smile, “ Like it, pretty girl ? “ 

“ Yeah, thanks, “ you nodded, sipping on your little drink as you looked up between the two Haitanis and the man, “ You’re the best, ran. “ 

“ …Ran ? “ The man repeated, eyebrows creasing together as he tried to figure out how in the world that name was so familiar. 

But before he could use all of his brain to figure it out, a gunshot rang out and his head hit the table, body slumping to the ground. The club was only shocked for a few minutes, more stunned at the noise of the gunshot than the actual shot itself, most people turning to look at the assailant behind you. 

“ You’re late, “ Sanzu hissed out simply, crossing his arms as he made his way towards the three of you. “ Was that the guy or did you just make me kill some other asshole ? “ 

You’d think you’d be used to Sanzu’s temper by now, but you weren’t, not by a long shot. Still, you nodded once again, knowing that your time in the club was almost coming to a close, “ Yeah, that was the guy, you got him. “

Standing up, you stretched, taking the glass with you as you looked over at the three of them. Sanzu was in a bad mood, and the Haitanis were clearly in playful, teasing ones. Tonight really would be a long night, and the thought made you mentally sigh out a little bit, although a much larger part of you couldn’t hide the excitement about what was to come. 

Sanzu’s hand reached out, finger finding the metal loop of the black collar, pulling you towards him. You let out a little noise at the sudden act, shoulders stiffening slightly out of reflex. “ Let’s fucking go then, we don’t have time to wait all day. if Mikey gets mad it’s on you. “ 

“ Chill, we solved the mission she came here to do, Mikey won’t get mad. The person we should really be worried about is Koko, “ Rindou pointed out, but he followed behind you anyways. there was a hand on your lower back, and another one on your shoulder, and both were already beginning to roam your body, despite not even being outside of the club yet. 

Yeah, this was going to be a long night, but you found yourself almost skipping along behind Sanzu, following his guiding hand straight into hell. 

taglist ﾉ @qichun ( i adore you jasper thanks for being here through,,, everything actually ) @haitani-maki @little-ari-bear @leave-rae-alone @rockinrob1n @n4muqr @kodzuken95 @dramallama2d @tenjikusstuff4 @lywji7 @i04mnji @thisismarisaaa @honeygonebads-blog @hyperiondickrider @oococ01 @rustedrampage @jellybelly-may @mccookiemonster @cvpid-xo @dizzydesi23 @sleeplessreader @wakashudou ( togame liker spotted <33 ) @mouse-0w0 @hayleighloatx @akkkeiji @lyssie02 @edellly @moshimoshimoo-blog1

[lxvvie]

Soap who's down badt for you.

Soap's an absolute horndog for you, and as someone whose primary love language is physical touch, he'll take every opportunity to express himself.

We've established that Soap doesn't leave much to the imagination around the house. If he doesn't have to, he won't cover up. Much. Especially in bed. Johnny's the one who'll greet you when you're up and around in the morning by hugging you from behind so you can feel how hard he is, as in he's pressing his cock against your ass and you hear a playful and husky, "Mornin', bonnie."

You can ask Soap what he's thinking about, and you'll get that rouge-ish grin, and "Bending you over, bonnie. What else?'

Similarly, you can ask Johnny what he's doing or about to do and he'll go, "About to touch myself to you. ❤️"

Soap is banned from helping you do your self-care and/or maintenance routine because it almost ALWAYS turns into sex.

Same for bathing because you're trying to get clean, Johnny—"I'm helping you get clean, though."— Because fingering you and sucking your nipples is definitely doing the job, huh?

Johnny has also called you on multiple occasions, but instead of getting a response, you hear the telltale slick of him stroking himself. Cheers, bonnie!

Johnny has no issue beating the shit out of an asshole if need be, which means you've seen your fair share of split lips, bruised cheeks, and black eyes. You know how he says you can remedy that, bonnie? "You coming on my face." Oh, dear god—

Let's talk about the times Soap's the one being fucked and how fucking LOUD he is. DELIBERATELY SO. The entire neighborhood could hear him. Goddamnit. Shut the fuck up, Johnny! "Nah," is what he'll say because why shouldn't everyone hear how good you fuck him, how much he loves you, and how much you make him cum? And in the end, you're looking flustered while Soap's sated, smug, and probably (read: more than likely) down for more. Hope they're ready to hear him again.

Johnny who wants your attention on him and loves to give you a show. And a show is what he gives you. Better than whatever the fuck's on the telly at the moment. To be fair, you weren't paying attention, but you were very focused on the horny bastard right next to you, giving you a repeat performance from his phone call earlier than week.

And after he came, you've swiped some of his cum on your finger and fed it to him, baby blues staring you down and all, Soap takes your hand and leads you to the bathroom to help him... clean up. "Like actually clean up, Johnny?" " 'Course, bonnie." Spoiler alert: you didn't clean up. Goddamnit, MacTavish. But would you want him any other way?

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

The Dark Lord

Summary: The reader gets caught stealing from the infamous Dark Lord Winchester. Instead of killing her though, he offers her a job for some reason...

Pairing: Dark Lord!Dean x employee!reader

Word Count: 2,500ish

Warnings: language, briefly mentioned torture/killing

A/N: Think of this as a slightly magical AU set in the present day. I might pick this up again if there seems to be interest in more!...

________

“I don’t care what the hell you do to me, I’m not-” You cut yourself off when a blonde woman in her thirties and sky high heels held out a cup of hot coffee. “Is that…espresso?”

“It’s a roasted blend from Guatemala, boss is big on it lately. He’s so boring and never let’s me give him anything but straight black but I like to serve all our guests something nice.” She set the cup in your hand, an artisanal drawing of a W set in the center. “It has notes of hazelnut and caramel.”

“Thank you?” you said, her eyes lighting up. “Is this…poisoned?” 

Her face fell so fast you felt awful for the way tears prickled her eyes. “Everyone always asks that. It’s just nice coffee.”

“I’m sorry,” you said, taking a sip and smiling. “It’s lovely.”

“Thanks,” she mumbled, turning to leave the dark room you were sat in.

“It really is good coffee.” She perked up a little, nodding once. “It’s just…I couldn’t help but ask.”

You held up your chained hands, the woman giving a sad smile. “Dark Lord Winchester is really the sweetest man I’ve ever met. I have no idea why everyone that he has come in his office thinks he’s going to kill them.”

“He kills people all the time…over nothing…” you said. She laughed and your stomach dropped.

“Oh no, Lord Winchester doesn’t do that! I’ve never seen him kill a soul that didn’t deserve it. Well, maybe a few but I seriously doubt he’ll kill you! He doesn’t tend to kill women as often, just a little torture. I’m sure you’ll be fine!” You withered into your seat when she left.

At least you had good coffee before your demise.

You jumped when the door crashed open, hot coffee spilling over yourself. It dripped down your shirt and soaked into your jeans, your skin stinging when a blur passed your periphery. You swallowed thickly as a man in a black bomber jacket, dark gray t shirt and black jeans walked in front of you.  He crossed his muscular arms as he leaned back against the desk, peering down at you.

He looked like he wanted to kill you. Or fuck you. Or both.

“Hi, Dark Lord Winchester,” you squeaked out. He bent at his hips, leaning down, watching you slump down even further. “Oh fuck, just kill me now.”

“Not yet,” he hummed, straightening with a hard set jaw. He looked down his nose at you, making you feel like an ant under his mighty six foot one muscular frame. “My security caught you stealing from one of my warehouses. I’m told it was a prescription drug.”

“Yes, Lord Winchester,” you said quietly. You looked at your wet clothes, waiting for him to drag you down to his dungeon and rip you apart.

Instead a cell phone was tossed in your lap. You scrunched up your face and gazed up at him, Lord Winchester still staring you down. 

“Uh, is this my last call or something?” you asked. He breathed deeply, looking over your head. 

“Two options. Option one. I will kill you for stealing from me.”

“I’d like to hear option two,” you said quickly, Lord Winchester glaring at you.

“Option two. You work for me. I need an assistant and perhaps I’ll find you valuable enough to keep you alive long term.”

“Option two,” you said, nodding your head. He stood up straight and hummed. 

“I thought so. You’re dismissed,” he said. You glanced down at your cuffs, Lord Winchester ignoring you. He walked around behind his desk and sat, glancing at his computer. “Do not make me ask again.”

You scurried out of the chair, grasping the empty mug in one hand, cellphone in the other. 

“Y/L/N.” You froze, back to him. Fuck, he’d changed his mind. He was just toying with you. He was going to- “Get up to speed this afternoon. I expect you here to start eight am sharp.”

“Yes, Lord Winchester.” Quickly you left, pulling the door shut behind you. You let out a sigh, your overly friendly coffee bearing companion rushing around the corner with a smile. “I told you he wouldn’t kill you! Boss made me promise not to tell. I’m Donna by the way. Deputy Head of Security. I volunteered to be your new hire buddy!”

You blinked slowly at the blonde, tilting your head, her eyes drifting downward in alarm. “Oh no, you’ve burned yourself! Let’s get you out of those cuffs, to the infirmary and into a fresh change of clothes. Lord Winchester wants to go through all of your HR paperwork today and a brief tour before sending you home.”

“I uh,” you put a hand against your head, shaking it out. “Why did he give me a job and not kill me?”

“He must like you. Normally he kills people or tortures them or makes them pay him back with hefty interest. Oh!” She pulled out a thin envelope from her back pocket, handing it to you. “This is your offer letter. It’s not really an offer, more of you have to accept or you die sort of thing but he wanted to make sure you got this.”

You felt like you were in a strange dream as you tore it open, slowly walking by Donna’s side down a hallway. “So Michael is our staff doctor. He’ll check your arms-”

You nearly fell when you’d read the salary on the offer letter. Donna caught your waist, alarm written all over her face. “Oh my god. I’m calling for-”

You shoved the paper in her face, taping the bolded line. “Is this a joke? He’s paying me this much?”

Donna laughed, urging you to walk forward again. 

“Six figures? Six figures?!” you screeched, Donna shaking her head. “What-”

“Working for Lord Winchester is lucrative but…there’s an expectation of discretion. I mean, he is the Dark Lord of the land. It’s not the sort of job you want to slack off at.” 

“Wonderful.”

It was late, well into the evening, when you’d finished with your tour. You were in the lobby of Lord Winchester’s fortress, rubbing your eyes. Michael had given you a pair of scrubs to change into while your stained clothes were sent to the launder. Thankfully he’d deemed your skin only irritated from the hot coffee, not burned. Most of the day had been in HR, Donna sitting in to help guide you through your options.

Options like free healthcare. A pension. On-site housing. As his assistant, or “Personal Executive to The Dark Lord” as your title in the payroll system stated, you were expected to live in the fortress and move in this weekend. All covered and utilities paid for by the company. 

A chef that cooked all your meals, if you were so inclined. Shuttle services to and from school in town with a tutor available after school to help with homework. A grand library for kids to study in and for the adults to further their own educational studies if they chose. There was even an inter-company softball league that got quite competitive. 

Dark Lord Winchester on paper was the best fucking boss in the world.

A throat cleared behind you, making you jump and drop the stack of papers in your hands. You spun around, Dark Lord Winchester standing there.

“Sorry, sir,” you said, kneeling down, attempting to pick up the papers as quickly as possible. To your surprise, he dropped to one knee, leaning his body and grabbing a folder that had your company credit card inside. He held it out to you, deep green eyes watching you as you hesitated to take it.

“If you’re going to work for me, you can’t be scared shitless all the time.” You snatched the folder, his eyes raising briefly before he stood tall. He held out a hand, your own eyes wide. “This is where you put your hand in mine and I help you stand up.”

You swallowed, doing as told, his strong arm effortlessly pulling you up.

“Look at that. You touched me and didn’t turn to dust,” he chuckled. You only stared, Lord Winchester looking over your head. “Let me make something clear to you. I treat my employees extremely well. In return, I expect their best work and their loyalty. If you show up to work and do a good job, there is no reason to fear me.”

“How do I know I’m doing a good job?” you whispered. He looked down to you, pursing his lips.

“You’re the damn Executive Assistant to The Dark Lord. You ask a question, you do it with confidence. Ask correctly and I’ll answer.”

“How will I know I’m doing my job well?” you said, holding his gaze this time. 

“Any woman that would risk stealing from the Dark Lord, knowing very well what I do to thieves, to get medicine for their kid brother? That is the kind of woman that I know will do spectacular in this job.” 

You parted your lips, Dark Lord Winchester glancing at them before looking away. “How do you-”

“I know lots of things.” He checked the dark rolex on his wrist, frowning. “It’s late. I’ll drive you home myself. Wait on the front steps.”

You watched him go down a different hallway, your head going a million miles an hour.

What the fuck was happening?

You stepped outside and five minutes later, an older black Impala, very nicely taken care of, pulled up, Dark Lord Winchester behind the wheel. You slid in the passenger seat, a wonderful aroma in the air. He drove you home in silence save for the soft rock music playing through the speakers.

Your face burned when he drove that beautiful car through your less than glamorous neighborhood and as soon as he pulled to a stop in front of your very small rental, you were getting out. 

“Y/L/N,” he chided. You stopped halfway, Lord Winchester reaching into the backseat and pulling over the back a large white bag. “For you and your brother. Dinner and his medication for a few months. Michael will be able to refill it when it’s up and can schedule a physical with him to check if his treatment needs to alter. Please apologize to your brother from me. He’s likely frightened being alone judging by the way every light is on inside.”

You shook your head, your lip tugging up. He narrowed his eyes as your smirk grew. “What is that look for?”

“Dark Lord Winchester my ass. You’re a good person, aren’t you?” He scoffed. “Nah, I’m starting to see this for what it is. Don’t worry. I won’t tell anyone you’re nice deep down.”

“I’m not nice,” he growled. You took the bag from his hand, softening your smile. “Do not think I’m kind.”

“Oh, of course not,” you said, holding up the bag. You got out, closing the door behind you. But you bent down, leaning into the open window. “Thank you. He…his asthma’s been getting worse lately. This will really help us. All of it will help.”

He was quiet, looking out at the dark road. “A car will pick you up at 7:30. Movers will come by Saturday morning to pack up your things.”

“Goodnight, Lord Winchester,” you said, stepping back.

“It’s Dean,” he said, revving the engine, making your heart race. He took off, your chest still thumping when you went inside. 

“Kyle! I’m home with dinner!” You called. Kyle came rushing out of the hallway, a blanket pulled over his head. “I’m so sorry I’m late, buddy. Did you get scared?”

“No,” said the twelve year old, doing an awful job of hiding his relief. “What’s for dinner?”

“I’m not sure. Why don’t you find out for us?” You handed him the bag, Kyle rushing back to the kitchen with it. “How was school?”

“Fine.” He said nothing more as you entered, pleasantly surprised to find a balanced dinner of chicken, vegetables and some sweet potatoes inside. “Is this take out?”

“No. I uh, got a new job today,” you said, opening the box that had his medicine inside. “Hey. Got you a refill.”

“What’s your new job?” he asked, taking a plate from you and scooting into his spot at the small two seater table.

“I uh…work for Dark Lord Winchester. We’re, uh, moving on Saturday to live at the fortress. You’ll have your own room and there’s some other kids that live there too for you to play with. He uh, actually wanted me to tell you how sorry he was for keeping me late tonight.”

“Really? Cool.” You rolled your eyes. “Does he actually wear a skull mask and a black cloak?”

“No,” you laughed. “He looks very normal. Maybe you’ll get to meet him someday.”

“Cool,” he said again, frowning when you pointed at his untouched vegetables. “Y/N-“

“Eat them or Dark Lord Winchester won’t be happy…” you chided, Kyle shrinking down into his seat, reluctantly taking a bite, a flash of surprise on his face.

“These are way better than when you make them!” He started to scarf down the brussels sprouts as you sighed.

“I’m not dead and you’re eating veggies for once. I’ll take that as a win for today.”

The Next Morning

“Good morning, Lord Winchester,” you said as you rose from your desk outside his office on the far end of the second floor, dressed in skinny jeans, a bright yellow sleeveless blouse and an oversized blazer. Dean looked you up and down, his eyebrows raising. “HR said the dress code-“

“If I wanted everyone to wear suits, I’d have everyone wear them. Your outfit is fine. You’re probably not going to wear heels with the running around you’ll do,” he said, entering his office, waving for you to follow after. His legs looked long in the dark denim that clung to his thighs. He wore a white long sleeve Henley shirt with a navy button up over top, sleeves rolled up his forearms. “If you would stop staring at me could we get started?”

Your face flushed as you sat in the chair opposite his desk, Dean sitting with a groan and greedily sucking down a cup of coffee. 

“So your job is to make my life easier,” he said, opening his laptop, frowning at it. “I get a lot of…requests from my department heads. I need you to be a buffer between me and them for the day to day. I also need you to handle pop ups and act as a sounding board for myself.”

“HR went over the expectations with me,” you said, Dean grunting as he drank more coffee again. 

“Great. I need you to start with brainstorming ideas for how to rescue my brother from Crowley. We’ll meet after lunch to discuss.”

“King of The Dark Lands Crowley?” Dean hummed. “Isn’t he…”

“A demon? Oh yeah,” he said, giving you a barely there smile. “Shouldn’t be a problem for a little thief like you.”

________

A/N: Interested in more? Let me know with a comment!

[laughingfcx]

(please/don't) call me baby

soundtrack <3

pairing: tetsurou kuroo x f. reader

content: fluff, crack humor, kuroo acts like a loser virgin LOL, way too many pet names, it girl energy reader !!!

warnings: swearing, like one sexual joke, ooc

word count: 1k

for the lovely @chososcamgirl <33 i've had sm fun in your w this idea !!!

you call everyone pet names. it's kind of your thing now, really. everyone, from yaku (darling!), to kenma (sweetheart!) to lev (angel!). that is, everyone except kuroo. to you, kuroo is kuroo. occasionally tetsurou, if he's lucky, but mostly he is just kuroo.

he doesn't mind it, he swears. he doesn't even care! or he wouldn't, but he also unfortunately happens to be head-over-heels in love with you. how embarrassing. and he's totally not jealous of the other guys.

which leads him to his current situation. his head tips back over the back of his chair as he runs one hand through his hair. "y/n, do you hate me?"

"no, why?" your answer is sharp and fast from the desk next to his.

oh, shit. now it's awkward.

"because, like... you don't call me any of your stupid cute names or anything," he explains sheepishly.

you sit up straight, lips curving up into a beautiful, evil smile. "you wanna be called pet names, kuroo?"

he flushes, shakes his head. "naaah, just asking."

you don't seem to believe him, head tilted to one side as you regard him curiously. and then you're getting up and making your way towards him, bending down to get on his level, and he thinks he might spontaneously combust in his pants. your fingers dance across the broad expanse of his chest, and your eyes are like a predator's, stalking its prey. his breath hitches as he waits for you to speak; when you finally do, he thinks he might have be going insane.

"whatever you say, baby," you purr, and holy fuck, kuroo is so ready to get down on his knees for you or bark like a dog or do whatever the fuck you want right now. he is pathetically down bad for you — it's embarrassing, and like you can read his mind, you just have to go and make it worse.

you twirl his tie around your fingers, careful and calculated, and for a split second, he imagines being pulled up by it, letting you kiss him in this empty classroom, just like that. and oh, apparently you're satisfied with how much you've messed him up right now, because suddenly you're back at your desk, and he's watching you fix your skirt with a beet red face and even redder ears.

today, for whatever reason, you're taking longer than usual to pack up when class ends, so he takes the opportunity to extricate himself from this terrible, terrible situation that he's created for himself. but when he's finally halfway out the door, someone calls his name.

"kuroo," you call after him, sickeningly sweet voice pulling him back to you. "baby, don't say you're leaving without me!"

his knees give way.

"you haven't forgotten my offer, though, right?" what a perfect gentleman, walking you home like this. he's even limiting his strides so you can keep up with ease.

"what offer, baby?" you hum distractedly, eyes glued to your phone. manicured fingers fly across it as you text someone, and you only look up when he chokes unceremoniously.

"you okay—"

"yes! i'm fine!" he yelps before you can say another word — or rather, one very specific word — and looks away to hide his reddening face. "as i was saying—"

"yes, b—"

"stop talking! i mean, let me speak!"

you frown, surprised at the way he won't let you get in a word edgewise. "okay, weirdo. go on?"

"the manager position is still open," he huffs. he's still embarrassingly red; his heart has not yet calmed down. “if you want.”

"mm, i don't know, baby, i'll have to think about it."

he will die. or he will run into oncoming traffic and die. this is so unfair, it's torture—

"thanks for walking me back, baby, i'll see ya."

he trips and falls on his face. "fuck— i mean, see you later!"

"you seem awfully happy today," kenma observes. "did something happen?"

"what? no, why?" he splutters. splotches of red begin to appear on his face, and kenma smirks.

"sure."

"say, kenma."

"what?" he sounds annoyed even though he's the one who started this conversation.

"how do you deal with y/n's nicknames?"

"what d'you mean? they're okay."

silence. kuroo rolls this new piece of information over in his mind. "so... you don't feel like exploding or dying every time she calls you, like, baby or something?"

kenma looks confused. "no? i think that's called a crush, kuro. also you know she said she thinks that's too romantic for her friends, so no, 'cause she doesn't even call any of us that— are you okay?"

"kenma."

"what?"

"shut up."

kuroo is pretty. it's not an unknown fact, and you, having known him for several years at this point, are no stranger to it either. with sly honey-brown eyes and bedhead that he manages to make look good in a way that you just cannot fathom, he is — in short — just your type. this is also where you shamefully admit that yes, even his derisive remarks and general air of disdain when it comes to his opponents is very attractive indeed. not to mention his biceps— actually, let's not go there.

but biceps or not, he has been driving you insane as of late. and now, it's apparent that you're finally getting to return the favour. you're not stupid; you've been noticing his reactions to the nickname from the start. and it's almost satisfying to be able to toy with him the way he's — unintentionally — been doing with you. maybe he'll even catch the hints you've been dropping if he's lucky.

meanwhile, it's taken kuroo exactly one hour and twenty-three minutes to desensitize himself to (the thought) of your voice. anyways, it's not like he'll see you any time soon, so it's okay. first there's volleyball practice, then he'll go straight to bed.

kuroo hates himself — it's like everything he does comes back to bite him in the ass. or rather, in the lungs this time, question mark. because as he struggles to breathe properly, you're waving at him from across the gymnasium in a very oversized NEKOMA jacket.

"i thought about it it!" you yell. "i'll be temporarily managing the team!"

maybe he should quit.

author's note :: whenever i'm describing kuroo i swear i start typing w one hand😭😭 reader's pov was NAWT necessary to the story i just wanted to salivate over him ok.

also this is going to be a series so like :) that's why there's nothing major here really

[frannyzooey]

In The Dark: One Shot

Series Masterlist

Ezra x m!reader

Rating: E (filth and yearning, my friends)

Summary: Six weeks after Birdie has left, a glimpse into how Ezra tries to forget.

A/N: all the thanks to my bestie in crime, @the-scandalorian who said “when will this freak be in MY sheets” and she was so real for that ❤️

--

It’s been over a month, and the wound is still raw. 

He’s tried to keep busy in so many ways: driving further for deliveries, taking on harder jobs that tire him out, seeking out his friends for a few drinks or a movie or dinner. Anything to keep him from reaching for his phone to text you or call you. 

Distractions, which is what he needs tonight. 

The itch to grab his phone is strong, so he grabs his keys instead. Stuffs his wallet in his back pocket, some condoms in the front. Steps out into the dusk and with a quick, restless stride, makes his way towards the nearest station. The train is crowded, not unusual for a Friday night and so are the streets when he gets off: streams of pairs, of groups, of single people like him all headed their way somewhere. 

A thought pops into his mind, the way you used to wonder aloud where everyone was going. You used to watch them from your window, the steam from the tea clutched in your hands curling into the air, and for a brief, painful moment, he sees it. Your profile, your cheeks stretched with a grin, your hand patting the cushion next to you, beckoning him closer. In nothing but a tank top and your underwear, you’re a vision – a literal one that he shakes free as he opens the door to the bar.

It’s loud, but that’s good. 

It doesn’t take him long to find someone. He’s never one to be shy about looking at someone with blatant want, and it takes only a few minutes before the man approaches him. It’s only been men since you left. He can’t bear the touch of another woman, with all their softness and sweetness and curves. He needs a hardness that matches his own: rough kisses, harsh grips. 

Ezra orders the man a beer to match the one he’s finishing off, and they talk for a while, leaning on the bar. He’s a drummer in a band, here to see his friend play. He’s got intricate tattoos that run the length of his arms, molding to the sinewy muscles. He’s got eyes so rich with depth that Ezra finds himself drawn in the longer they talk, empty bottles being replaced with fresh, full ones. 

He’s not you, and that’s perfect. 

A bundle of cash is thrown down on the countertop, and Ezra follows the man out of the bar, letting him guide him back to his place, just around the corner. The apartment is sparse in the way men’s often are. A couch, a coffee table, a couple of pieces of art on otherwise bare walls. Not as many books as Ezra would like to see, but that’s okay. He’s not here for intellectually stimulating conversation. 

He’s here to fuck. 

He’s here to forget the fact that he would rather be in someone else’s apartment, surrounded by their stacks of books, among other things that made it feel so cozy and lived in. So warm, just like the cloud of your bed, or the cradle of your thighs or – 

“You want a drink?” the man offers, standing next to his open fridge. 

Ezra shakes his head, coming closer. He reaches out, gently pushing the door shut. 

“No,” he replies. “Just you.”

—

The man’s bed is nothing like yours, but that’s okay. 

The sheets aren’t as soft and it doesn’t smell as sweet, but it does have a willing body with a tight hole and that’s all that matters right now. Something to turn his brain off for the night, to numb the deep ache that’s settled between his ribs. 

He aches now, but in a different way. A sweet, heavy ache deep in his balls as he tries not to come in the tight, wet fist of this man’s ass. The stranger is on his hands and knees, his back arched to take every one of Ezra’s rough thrusts, rocking back to meet every snap of his hips. His groans are deep and loud, his hands clenched in the plain sheets stretched over his mattress and Ezra runs a hand down his spine, his fingers splayed over his lower back. 

Tattoos extend all the way up to his shoulders and wrap around his ribcage. His body is gorgeous – all lean muscles and smooth skin; Ezra’s touch fits between his ribs along his sides as he bends forward to tug the man up. 

The stranger molds his back to Ezra’s front, and Ezra keeps a hand cradled at the base of his throat and fucks him harder, letting out his low, labored grunts into the nape of his sweat damp neck. His body is hard against Ezra’s, nothing like yours. When Ezra’s arm wraps around his front, he feels firm, flat planes instead of lush, weighted breasts. When his hand smoothes down the man’s torso, he feels a flat belly covered in scattered hair instead of plush, rounded softness. When Ezra’s hand dips lower, it wraps around a thick, stiff cock instead of finding a seam of wet, slick warmth. 

The man’s hand joins Ezra’s, the two of them pumping his cock in time with the beat of Ezra’s hips. Ezra wants something slicker, something to make the drag better, and he lets go, bringing his hand up to the man’s mouth. The man opens, sucking Ezra’s fingers in down to the knuckle, and they groan together, Ezra’s cock jerking inside. Ezra can feel the vibration of his hum around the thick digits and pulls them out of his mouth, bringing them back down to the man’s cock. 

“Fuck,” he groans when Ezra wraps him with a firm, slick hold, jerking him root to tip. He adds a slight twist to the motion, something he loves to do to himself, and when the man’s broad frames melt against Ezra’s, he grins. He pumps his fist faster, feeling the man clench around his cock, and when the man’s groans start to get louder, Ezra’s pace picks up. 

Sweat beads along his neck, and Ezra licks it up with a flat lave of his tongue. “It feels good, doesn’t it?” Ezra croons in his ear. 

When the man doesn’t answer, Ezra scrapes his teeth along the corded muscle, biting down. 

“Yes! Yes, fuck yes, it feels good. Jesus Christ. Fuck me.” 

The man is near babbling, his cock thickening in Ezra’s hold, beads of pre-come leaking steadily from the thick, rounded tip and Ezra swipes through the pearly mess, bringing his hand to his mouth. He sucks the sticky slick off the pad of his fingers, and lets out a lewd, deep groan into the man’s ear. The man whimpers, letting his head tip back against Ezra’s shoulder. 

Ezra’s got him cradled on his lap, his hand back on the man’s cock to finish him off, and when he starts to come with a shout and a steady stream of thick cum seeping through Ezra’s fingers, he digs his fingers into Ezra’s thighs, forcing himself down on Ezra’s lap to bury him as deep as he’ll get. 

Ezra’s chest is heaving, his body aching with the need to come, every muscle strung as tight as the hold he has on the man’s hair. He’s rough with him: pushing him forward on his hands and knees, digging into his hips with a harsh grip, pounding into the curve of his ass hard enough to bruise. His fingers dig into the crown of the man’s hair with a tug, and Ezra closes his eyes, teetering on the edge of his own release. 

The curve of your plush ass, the dig of your tiny fingers, the weight of your smaller frame enveloped by his. Your softer moans, the scent of your shampoo and your skin and the touch of your hair when he buries his face in it and the slick, tight warmth of your cunt or your ass as his hips jerk upwards – 

And then he comes, burying himself deep. 

He drops forward, catching his breath for a moment, resting his hands on the bed as his cheek rests on the man’s shoulder, and when he eases himself out, he feels slightly smug at the hiss he hears him let out.

“That was…a lot. Fuck, man,” the stranger laughs, breathless and sated. He drops down onto the bed, splaying out. His fingers dance along his tattooed stomach while he watches appreciatively as Ezra stands, tugging the condom off and knotting it. 

“The bathroom is over there.” The man waves his hand in the direction of the hallway.

In the tiny room, Ezra washes his hands and stares at himself in the mirror. He looks tired, even with his cheeks flushed with heat. 

His balls are empty, but so is everything else. 

He doesn’t stay long after that. A quick press to the man’s lips at his front door, a half-hearted promise to see him again sometime. He knows he probably won’t. 

He feels tired on his walk back home, his limbs drained of their restless energy, which is what he wanted – so he isn’t sure why he feels so..unsatisfied. Like he didn’t just fuck someone until they both finished. He wonders briefly if you’ve fucked anyone since you’ve been gone, and he immediately rebels against the thought…even though he knows he doesn’t have any right to. 

He just did, didn’t he? 

He wonders if you miss him like he misses you. If your world is tinted in Ezra-colored glasses like his is tinted in yours. If you also lay awake at night, staring at your face-down phone on your night stand, willing it to light with a text. 

He said he would give you time and space and he meant that. Christ, he did. He wouldn’t even be mad if you went out and had fun and fucked someone because that’s what he wants for you – to be young, to embrace this opportunity, to have those experiences. 

He just wishes it was still with him. 

Letting himself in the front door, he heads straight for the shower. Stripping his clothes, he stands under the steaming pressure, dropping his head between his shoulders. He lets the steady stream beat down on his back, washing the sweat of someone else off his skin. 

He sees a flash of your open mouth moaning in pleasure, your skin sliding against the shower tiles, and frustrated, he slams the water off. His cock comes to life, half hard between his thighs, and he ignores it, toweling off. 

Pulling on sweats, he should be tired enough to sleep after a fuck like that, but he heads in the direction of the living room instead, grabbing a beer on the way there. Slumping into the couch, he clicks the TV on. He pulls up his phone, swiping open the weather app. 

LONDON: 46F / 7C, 3AM 

The bright light of the TV illuminates his profile, and he sighs, setting the phone down. 

Are you in your bed? In someone else’s?

Hoping you’re safe, he slouches into the cushions and settles in for a sleepless night.

[nyx-umbrakinesis]

Imagine you are laying in bed with Vox and you know he is charging/asleep and you are trying to do your walk of shame/pride and you pull out your phone to call for an Uber/taxi and when you look at your screen it Vox going "Baby come back to bed"

This ended up nsfw lmao Vox x Reader, CW: vagina fingering, and p in V sex.

You slide out of bed, looking over your shoulder to make sure Vox's screen is still dimmed and his eyes shut.

Quickly gathering your clothes and heading out through the hauntingly quiet halls of VoxTek, footsteps echoing as you scramble to call your ride.

Fuck you knew it was a mistake to sleep with your boss, fuck fuck fuck, what were you going to do? What was he going to do? Fire you? Maybe you should quit.

Your mind whirrs as you get in your ride... Odd you hadn't called for a limousine but you checked the name with the driver and he said something about an upgrade so you shrugged assuming other drivers were too busy or something.

You get in and start doomscrolling your phone to try and calm your nerves, fidgeting slightly as you feel Vox's cum trickling from you, fuck you'd forgot your panties, adjusting your skirt uncomfortably, glad of the privacy screen you look back at your phone and yelp nearly dropping it and Vox's face appears on the screen.

Vox: "Babydoll what are you doing? You should come back to bed."

His voice is so assured you almost agree, he always had something about him that mad you want to agree to anything his said, despite your own self imposed rules about not getting attached to folk down here and only having one night stands.

You: "Sorry sir, this was a mistake, we shouldn't... Won't be doing this again... I understand I need to look for a new job tomorrow."

Vox's face frowns, and you sigh with relief thinking he's going to agree but you shriek when suddenly with a bolt and a zap to your hand he's suddenly sat beside you, having travelled through your phone.

You blush in mortification as he's still utterly bare.

You: "S-Sir... -"

Vox: "Oh no Doll, I've found something I like, and I don't give up my toys so easily, so I'm going to convince you to come back with me now, and you're going to be a good little Doll and TRUST me."

Blinking as you feel slightly dizzy, you whimper as you feel his hand sliding up your thigh, and your body is oddly limp as he spreads you open without resistance, hiking your skirt around your waist, his eyes glued to the sight of his cum dripping out of you.

Vox: "Fuck Babydoll, that's so hot. Just waiting for me really weren't you, left me a parting gift and everything."

You: "I-I never do more than one night stands."

Vox: "That's because you've always been mine, and those other idiots were too dumb to chase soothing so damn perfect."

You can't respond as his tongue eases inside your mouth and his fingers start sliding through your folds simultaneously. You hips buck and a needy whine escapes your lips.

Vox: "Now let's see how much convincing you need to come back and stay."

Your hips arch and your chest strains as he rubs teasing circles around your clit.

You: "Vox..."

Vox: "That's right Babydoll, thays exactly how you should be saying my name."

Vox keeps rubbing you, his mouth marking your shoulder as the shoulder on your shirt is ripped, but you can't think, can't mind it as he drives you closer and closer to your peak.

The squelch of his fingers sliding into you is embarrassingly loud and he chuckles against your neck, which is bent at such an odd but accommodating angle.

Your moans increase as his fingers fucks you more relentlessly now, your clit feeling puffy and swollen as his thumb doesn't stop tormenting it too.

You hand grabs his wrist for grounding and you feel the flex of his tendons and muscles at work as he drives his digits deep inside you.

You : "Oh fuck."

Vox: "Don't worry, Doll, we will, again."

Your other hand is grabbed and placed right on his hard cock, the rigid member throbbing in your grasp and you cry out as your fall apart all over Vox's fingers.

Twitching and spasming, you swear you hear him gasp as the grip of your hand on his cock matches that of your cunt on his fingers.

Vox: "Perfect little Doll, now you're coming home with me aren't you, and you're going to be a good Toy and not leave."

Absently you nod, and don't even notice as you end up within moments on a plush bed, clothing shredded, and crying out his name once more as his cock starts fucking his own cum even deeper inside you.

Vox: "Trust me, Babydoll, you're staying right here where you belong... Mine."

*The driver had been hired by Vox and was literally circling the streets, that's why they never arrived anywhere 😂

[warlocksoup]

into the spider-verse: nishinoya yuu

volume one, chapter two: calls

word count: 2.5k

masterlist | main masterlist | taglist

On the rooftop of the Flatiron Building, she leans back, and stares at the sky above her. She’s learned that looking down gives her vertigo, and if she’s lying down, she can pretend she’s not twenty-two stories off the ground.

Noya laughs at her, because he always does, but he still holds her hand, because he knows it makes her feel better. “I can’t believe you’re still afraid of heights.”

“I feel like this is a super reasonable fear to have.” She inches a little but further away from the edge as she speaks. She doesn’t even wanna be close to it. “Plummeting to my death isn’t like, a big priority for me right now.”

He squeezes her hand. “You know I’ll catch you if you fall.”

He would. She doesn’t even doubt that for a second. If right now she stood up and decided to take a swan dive off the side of the building, there would be nothing getting in between him and her, and Noya would have her safely in his arms before she hit the fifteenth floor.

But still. It fucking terrifies her.

“Okay, sorry my primal instinct does not recognize that you got bit by some weird science experiment spider and now you defy all laws of nature,” she rolls her eyes, still tightly holding onto his hand as he sits upright beside her. “I’ll work on that.”

Nishinoya leans over a lightly pinches the soft skin of her stomach under her t-shirt. She squeals. “Keep it up with the attitude and I’ll throw you off the side of this building myself.”

“Hmm, not very hero-like of you, Spider-Man.”

“You bring out the worst in me.”

She grins. “I’m going to have to write an article about this. ‘Spider-Man throws innocent journalist with fear of heights off Flatiron Building.’ Jameson will love it.”

Nishinoya scoffs. “Yeah, I’m sure he would. Too bad you’ll be busy being a sidewalk pancake.”

Her eyes find their intertwined hands. It’s always been natural, their friendship, everything that happens between them feels like it’s supposed to. The handholding and the couch-sharing and the arm over her shoulder. It’s always right, with Nishinoya. She doesn’t even have to think about it.

She watches his thumb as it brushes against her skin. “How’s it been out there lately?” she asks.

“Quiet,” Nishinoya replies. “Saving kittens from trees and helping old ladies across the street. Besides Sytsevich, everything’s been quiet since Osborn died. It’s kinda weird, y’know? Like eerie.”

“Yeah, I imagine waiting for the next disaster to strike can feel like that,” she comments, leaning back to stare up at the empty sky. You can’t ever see stars out here. “Hey, Noya?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you think you’re gonna stay here forever?” she asks. “Just stick around and be Spider-Man for the rest of your life.”

He hums a bit. “I dunno. I think I’ll probably just go wherever you end up.”

🕸 ｡𖦹°‧✩｡🕷˚⋆｡

She’s sitting on the train, a hot cup of coffee in one hand, and her phone in the other. She’s looking down at an email from her favorite Yahoo user: If you don’t want the whole world to find out, do as I say.

It’s pretty explicit. It’s hard to misinterpret that kind of message, as much as she’s deliberately trying to. Her fingers tap against the paper cup, trying not to let panic work its way up her throat in the middle of this train cab, surrounded by bored commuters that wouldn’t flinch twice at any sort of breakdown she could have.

A heavy breath leaves her lung, and she pockets her phone, trying, with a tight feeling of desperation around her throat, not to think of it. If it’s not in her face, it’ll be marginally easier to pretend.

Yachi’s waiting for her at her desk when she gets into work. She slides into her chair, and Yachi skips the greeting. “Jameson’s pissed,” Yachi says, tapping a pencil against her desk.

“Yeah? What’d Spider-Man do now?” she questions, typing her password in. She mistypes it, and curses slightly under her breath.

“The PI he hired to find out his identity quit,” Yachi laughs. “Apparently there wasn’t enough for him to go off, and the guy got tired of Jameson raising his blood pressure at him for forty minutes a day.”

She snorts. Noya’s told her about private investigators before. Everyone touts that they’re going to be the one to unmask Spider-Man, but it’s kinda tricky trailing a man with superhuman sixth sense and the ability to basically fly through the city. “I give it another three months before he tries this one again.”

“I give it one,” Yachi counters.

Her desktop loads up, and she is immediately hit with a barrage of emails, looking like they’re coming in all at once, all in caps lock. “Fuck, looks like he’s taking it out on me again.”

Email after email, the subject lines varying from things like, “This piece is crap!” to “How are you still employed here?”

Yachi leans forward to get a better at her screen. “Oh, that’s bad. I’ll leave you to that.”

And it’s just that Yachi gives her a sharp grin and two-finger salute that another email pops up. No subject line, just a simple: Wait for my instruction.

🕸 ｡𖦹°‧✩｡🕷˚⋆｡

Harry Osborn looks smarmy on the television screen, a thin layer of sweat shining on his forehead and slick smile that looks a little bit too pleased for his father’s funeral. She knocks her knee into Noya’s leg underneath the blanket they share. “That guy’s such a piece of shit,” she comments, jerking her chin forward towards the younger Osborn.

Noya knocks his leg back into hers. “My guy looks like he just won the lottery,” he remarks, eyes not leaving the screen. There’s a bit of history between Spider-Man and the Osborn family, mainly consisting of Norman committing acts of domestic terrorism from the vantage point of a hoverboard, dressed like a fucking goblin.

“Yeah, well he basically did,” she snarks. “Imagine inheriting Oscorp before you’re twenty-five. Basically guarantees you a fucking thirty under thirty spot.”

He snorts. “I’d rather not have anything to do with Oscorp. I’d rather be broke.”

"Oh, you mean the company that basically sponsored the lizard-ification of Dr. Connors? I can't imagine why." She lops her head to the side to look at him. “And anyway, I’m broke. You’re a freeloader.”

Nishinoya waves her off. “Same difference.”

She snorts, turning to face the television again to see they’re playing old footage of Norman Osborn in a lab (coat and everything), explaining the mission statement of Oscorp. To build a better future.

There were rumors about Norman, post-mortem. Details floating around about how he was driven mad in his final year. That the Osborn curse had infected him beyond hope, and his mind had began to decay, along with his body. Some people think he’s been dead for much longer. Some people think a group of investors had been secretly running Oscorp for years while Norman received private care upstate. Some people even suspect him of being the Goblin.

She wonders if that was the better future he had envisioned.

Noya shifts uncomfortably in his seat. She reaches over and grabs his hand, squeezing it tightly in hers. She’s sure he’s wishing the son will be better than his father. She’s hoping too.

His thumb traces circles over her knuckle. He doesn’t look in her direction. She tries to focus on the news and enjoy the way his hand feels in hers before there’s some police broadcast or distant siren or whatever to call him back to duty.

🕸 ｡𖦹°‧✩｡🕷˚⋆｡

Meet me @ 300 W 57th St tomorrow at 8am. Or I tell everyone about him.

She sits at her desk, biting down on the end of a pencil, and weighing her options.

One: she could tell Noya.

There’s not even a chance he would let her go. Not even if he were there. No matter the argument she would present. Nishinoya would sooner web her to the couch than let her go meet up with some mystery blackmailer. She also knows that this threat would do little to sway him. If she tells Noya, the most likely outcome is him, masked up and aggravated, showing up to fight.

Which would result in ijs99ETJfdhsg@yahoo.com telling everyone.

Two: she could do nothing.

There’s really been no hard proof presented to her that shows that Yahoo user ijs99ETJfdhsg knows what he claims he knows. This could all very well be a big misunderstanding on her end. And so what? Even if he does know what he claims to, it’s not like the world would so easily believe that Nishinoya Yuu, random unemployed man, is Spider-Man. Random liars claim to be Spider-Man every day. Noya could easily blend in with random liars.

The consequence of doing nothing though is, of course, him telling everyone. And still, the possibility that the masses believe him or that Yahoo user ijs99ETJfdhsg does have some hard evidence on his side gnaw away at her. She can’t shoulder that.

Three: she could show up.

She could put some pepper spray in her bag and give Noya the address just in case something happens, and she could go and meet with this mystery blackmailer to see exactly what the fuck it is he wants.

And then, he wouldn’t tell anyone.

The thought of it puts knots in her stomach, and those knots are worsened by the acknowledgement that it’s probably her best course of action.

She sighs, using her cursor to highlight the address he provided and plopping it back into search bar. She’s envisioning some deserted alley, an abandoned storefront or someplace that would leave no witnesses if she were to be kidnapped and/or murdered.

What she wasn’t expecting was fucking Oscorp.

🕸 ｡𖦹°‧✩｡🕷˚⋆｡

Harry Osborn’s office is neat. Almost empty, save for a few hard-drives and a stack of unopened newspapers at his desk. The wall to ceiling windows provide a view of the city she’s never seen before, and standing in the middle of it, she feels so starkly out of place. She looks behind her, just to see the assistant that led her up here closing the door behind him.

She feels trapped, at once.

Harry himself is leaning against a window, and as if operating on a que, he turns on his heel, a sickly grin plastered on his face, and, if she squints, she can almost see a greenish sort of hue in the undertones of his skin. “There’s my favorite journalist,” he greets, arms extended out as if he was going to hug her.

She steps back. “Erm, yeah,” she responds, head turning slightly to eye the closed door behind her. There’s something off in the air of room, something off-putting in the way Harry is looking at her. “Is there a reason you summoned me here through cryptic emails, or did you just wanna like, hang out?”

He stops, and lets his arms drop back down to his side, stuffing his hands in his pant pockets. “Straight to the point. I like that. I like that quality.”

It’s strange to be in the same room as him, New York City’s prodigal son. She’s seen his face on the cover of magazines and on news segments and she’s written articles about him. Harry Osborn has almost always been some kind of mythic figure in her head. An untouchable prince. Nothing she could get away with printing in the Bugle would ever have any impact on him.

But here before her, he does not look mythic, or untouchable, he looks like a very sick man. His hair falls flatly on his forehead, and he uses the back of sleeve to wipe off droplets of sweat. The longer she looks at him, the greener he seems, like his whole body is lightly stained.

Harry takes another step towards her. She steps back again.

“Y’know,” he drawls, and moves to stand behind the large desk that takes up most of the room; she watches him carefully, eyes trained on his every movement, “one of the most underrated parts of a power acquisition in a company like Oscorp, is that you suddenly have a lot more information at your disposal. A lot of information that money can’t buy.”

There’s something about the way he talks that is starkly unnatural. The PR training bleeds out of every word, and though he looks young, but the way he carries himself is eerily like his father. It makes goosebumps rise on the back of her neck. She looks over her shoulder, back at the door behind her. “O-okay.”

Harry takes a seat, like he’s unbothered by her presence. His hand lingers over one of the hard drives. “Did you know that, back in the early two-thousands, this company poured millions into researched on genetically enhanced spiders. They were supposed to be this miracle cure. A magic spider that could cure any illness. Until, of course, the head scientist died in some accident, and they had to kill off the whole project, including all the spiders they bred. Y’know, today, I think we only have one thing to show for that project.”

Her face is hot, and her ears feel like they’re stuffed with cotton. This all suddenly feels like a mistake, like she’s in over her head and she never should’ve come here without Noya. Her tongue is dry when she tries to speak. “Is this, is this on the record, or…?”

Harry leans forward in her chair, and sneers. It chills her blood, that expression, cold and gnarled. “I’m not interested in going on the record with some second-rate journalist at a trash paper. I’m interested in this.”

Harry Osborn grabs the newspaper on his desk and slams it forward. She takes a step forward to get a better look and knows immediately what it is. It’s the Daily Bugle, with Spider-Man on the front page and her name printed on the bottom.

The First-Ever On-The-Record Interview with the One and Only Spider-Man!

Her hands are shaking. She looks up to see Harry grinning at her. “It’s funny, actually, how someone right out of school, with no credentials and no reputation to go off, could get this kind of interview.”

She can hear her heartbeat, and all she can think of is how unbelievably, colossally fucked she is.

Harry Osborn stands and makes his way to stand directly in front of her. The closer he is, the more of him she can see. The green tint of his skin, the almost scaly quality, the point of his teeth. “I want you to find Spider-Man, and I want you to get him to give me his blood.”

🕸 ｡𖦹°‧✩｡🕷˚⋆｡

On the busy street beneath the Oscorp building, her fingers tremble as she dials Noya’s number. He answers after the first ring. “Hey, what’s up? I’m just dropping this bodega thief off at the station-“

“Noya,” she cuts him off, trying to hold back the sob in her voice. “I fucked up.”

taglist: @wyrcan @causenessus @seroh @19calicos @w4nyoung @soulfullystarry @chocolains @jaynawayna @baylz @vuntysharck @mollyrolls @boooolame @staileykout @angee444 @kameyyy @choerry-picking @giocriedpower @sunakeiji @sleepzyy @lunasfics @thecoolestlia @yoshit-he-dinosaur @bectoshi @thatonecroc @karasyuu @iatethemochi @itsdragonius @syverse @savemebrazilhinata @localgaytrainwreck @snail-squasher @atzixo @ahdbodhr @nbcvs @dailyakira @kasumiixs @s1ckntw1st3d @noble-17 @atsumuenthusiast @jino0ix @boobilater @keeboismine @scxrcherr @acowboykisser @acowboykisser @impatienscush @loverlunaire @oneiratxxia10 @kattiscrying @dazqa @termite-joe @quikhs @cupidsblonde @izukuwus

[sturniqloo]

~Good or bad~

summary:when Chris comes to your house blacked out,did he fucked up everything you had for years?..♡

warnings:none actually i think,use of y/n,pet names,broke of emotions,use of alcohol(pls be responsible),drunk talk..(my first language is NOT English sorry if there's any wrong grammar),angsty fluff,cuddling...idk lol‼️

Chrisxfem!reader🎀

It was late,02:54am at the clock ticking,as u tossed around bed from the emptiness in it,something was missing...someone..it was Chris's lack of presence in the bed,he went to a party hours ago,with some of his guys and brothers,leaving you at home,but in reality you didn't wanna come either.

Cold breeze filling the bedroom from the open window,as the seconds..minutes..hours..passed by,you decided to get up,turning around and getting frustrated cause you can't sleep won't make you sleep,right?

You sit up in bed,leaning your head on a headboard behind you,rubbing your eyes you checked your phone.

-03:34am.-

no texts,no calls,no notifications from Chris,absolutely nothing...your stomach felt heavy at the thought he's gone for hours without words,usually he would check on you and inform you what's happening but this time?

where is he? with who? is he okay? why isn't he active?..all the thoughts flying through your mind constantly,you wanted to text him,to check on him but he wasn't active...

It was currently 04:23am when u heard the stumbling steps on the stairs,immediately followed with bedroom doors opening,revealing Chris...blacked out of alcohol

He stumbled in the room and just fall onto bed,with mumbles,of something completely non understandable,as soon as he layed on the bed the strong smell of alcohol hits you,his eyes half open and red,his hair messy,and his clothes...messy?

-what the fuck?-

you thought..he's looking bad,exhausted,and completely fucked out.

With a soft and quiet mumble he spoke:

"mhm...hey ma'..why u still awake? thought u won't wait on me?"

his words getting in one ear and leaving through other as your mind was filled with millions of thoughts where he was and with who?...

"yeah..um-i did-yeah.."

you spoke back in a whisper,feeling tired and sleepy but his presence here made u wonder a lot.

With slow moves,he took his jacket off,leaving himself in his shirt and jeans,as he layed on the pillows followed with a groan and mumble of something about his head hurting from all the alcohol he had,well ofcourse.

"sorry i got home this late ma'...I got caught up..-lets sleep now..I need to be close to you...I missed you..c'mere.."

you suddenly heard his mumble,as he tugs at your arm pulling you down with him to lay and cuddle,with a sigh,you give in,cuddling close to him,your head against his chest,while he burried his head in your hair,holding onto your body tightly like you might dissappear if he let go..

As u took deep breaths against his chest,feeling his presence here with you made you feel better...only till you smelled it...

His neck and shirt,smell of the sweat and his cologne,followed with a new..strange smell..you tried to ignore it thinking its nothing,but the more you breathe,the more it filled your nostrils...you shut your eyes tightly,emotions hitting you immediately as you finally made it out..

Strong flowery scent,like lavender..and roses...lingering on his skin and clothes..it was something you can't miss,even worse can't mix up thinking it's your perfume...that smell..that made your heart tighten and your gut wrenching in seconds..your hearbeat picking up of the thought Chris was with another girl...

You didn't say anything,his breathing filling the uncomfortable silence you were in,signaling he's already fast asleep...you felt your eyes water,but you just layed there..close in his embrace..not wanting to wake him up and make a scene right now..you shut your eyes...immediate sleep falling onto your eyes and your breathing slowed..you fall asleep too...

Morning is gonna show everything..its either gonna be good or bad...

that's it lovies,this is my first writing,ik its kind of short but i wrote it quite quickly,lemme know what u think about it...SHOULD I MAKE A PART 2? love yall 🩷🎀🪄 (if u like it pls share around🧸)

@hoeforchrizz @mattscoquette @mattslolita @elsturnioloo @flouqiis @archiebabiesworld @sturniolosweetheart33 @chris-sturniolo0

[kangshxrtie]

ch. 24 ⤍ go to sleep

"yunjin!" you exclaimed quietly as you stepped out of the uber.

yunjin had come outside to greet you when you texted her that you were down the street, wanting to avoid waking everyone in the house by ringing the doorbell.

"y/n!" she rushed over, wrapping you in a warm hug.

"i'm gonna be honest, i didn't think you would actually come," yunjin said once you both broke apart.

you smiled, shrugging a little. "i almost didn't, but then i thought, why stay home and do nothing when i could hang out with you?"

"well, i'm glad you did!" yunjin beamed, linking her arm with yours as you both walked toward the house. "let's go inside!"

once inside, yunjin kicked off her shoes and padded over to the couch, motioning for you to join her. you slipped off your shoes and set your bag on the floor before flopping down next to her.

"so, what's the plan for tonight?" yunjin asked, grabbing a blanket and wrapping it around her shoulders.

"i don't know; this is your house," you shrugged playfully.

"movie?" yunjin suggested.

"yeah, i did that the last time i was here too," you chuckled.

yunjin looked confused for a second but then her face lit up with realization. "i forgot kazuha snuck you in here before!"

"and now you're sneaking me in. i really am working my way up le sserafim," you joked, leaning back against the couch.

"stop!" yunjin laughed, shaking her head at your comment.

as the laughter faded, yunjin's expression turned thoughtful. "honestly, though, it's nice to have you here. we've never really hung out alone before."

you nodded. "yeah, it's nice."

yunjin smiled, her eyes softening. "me too. but what do you want to watch?"

you thought about it for a second. "how about a classic rom-com? something light and funny?"

"i was hoping you would say that!" yunjin agreed, reaching over to grab the remote and scrolling through the streaming service.

she went into the kitchen to grab some snacks and drinks, returning with a spread that made your mouth water. after setting everything up on the coffee table, she flopped back onto the couch and started the movie.

as the opening credits rolled, you sank into the cushions, feeling completely at ease. you exchanged glances and playful comments throughout the film, laughter echoing through the cozy living room.

after watching a specific scene and with some drinks in both of your systems, yunjin turned to you, her expression bright. "we should recreate this scene! i feel like we would totally fuck up the dance."

you burst out laughing. "i'd be down!"

yunjin giggled, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "i think we can learn this tonight."

"can we post it?" you asked.

"fuck yeah!" yunjin agreed.

and that's how you two ended up recording a dance video that you'd definitely regret come morning—or when either one of you sobered up just a little bit.

you both cleared a little space in the living room, giggling and bumping into each other as you set up the phone to record. yunjin hit play, and as the music started, you both attempted to follow the choreography.

"wait, wait! i'm totally lost already!" you exclaimed, laughing so hard you could barely stand.

"just follow my lead!" yunjin called back. "i promise i'll make it look good!"

you both started again, determined to get at least one solid take. but every time the song hit a particularly catchy beat and you'd make eye contact with yunjin, you couldn't help but break into laughter, causing you to forget the steps entirely.

"okay, okay, focus this time!" yunjin said, trying to catch her breath. "let's do it on three. one... two... three!"

the music started, and this time, you actually managed to keep up for a few counts. but as the chorus hit, you both went wild, completely losing it again.

"why are we so bad at this?!" you said between laughs.

"i think we're doing great!" yunjin insisted, not able to stop hearslf from laughing. "just imagine how funny this is going to be later!"

after what felt like countless attempts, you finally managed to get a somewhat decent take, even if you both did look stupid as fuck in it. yunjin stopped the recording and flopped back onto the couch, breathless.

"i knew we would fuck that up," she said, collapsing dramatically onto the cushions.

"definitely the best dancers," you joked, downing the rest of your drink.

"seriously, though," yunjin said after a few moments of silence, her tone shifting a bit, "thanks for coming over. i really needed this."

you turned to her, appreciating the sincerity in her voice. "me too. i always have a good time with you."

she smiled softly, and you couldn't help but feel grateful for this unexpected evening together.

after the movie wrapped up, you both tackled the mess of empty drink containers and snack wrappers, laughing as you raced to clean up. but as the drinks faded off, you started to feel the weight of exhaustion tugging at you. you figured you'd just sleep on the couch, but yunjin wouldn't let you.

"no way you're sleeping on the couch," she insisted, giving you a pointed look. "you're coming to my bed."

you opened your mouth to protest, but she was already pulling you toward her room. once there, she placed a pillow between you two and declared it a "lesbian prevention pillow."

you burst out laughing at her ridiculousness. "seriously, yunjin"

"can't have kazuha getting jealous," she teased, winking.

you couldn't stop smiling as you settled into her bed, the pillow a silly barrier between you. the comfort of the sheets made it hard to resist the pull of sleep.

"goodnight, yunjin," you said, turning to face her.

"goodnight, y/n. sweet dreams!" she replied.

with the gentle sound of her breathing beside you, you closed your eyes, feeling safe and content. you drifted off to sleep with a smile on your face.

the next morning, you were sitting in the le sserafim living room, waiting for yunjin to wake up, chatting with your manager about brand deals and new projects you were working on. you had just sent your last message when kazuha crept up behind you.

"y/n?" she said, causing you to jump in your seat.

"hi, zuha," you greeted her, a smile spreading across your face.

"what are you doing here? are you here for me?" she asked, her expression full of confusion as she pointed to herself.

"i hung out with yunjin last night, so i spent the night here. just waiting for her to wake up now," you explained.

kazuha pouted, crossing her arms. "i told you to go to sleep last night! and not only did you ignore that, but you hung out with my roommate."

"jealous?" you teased.

"of course i am," she said.

"don't be. we just hung out as friends," you reassured her, chuckling softly. "but what are you doing up this early?"

"i told you, i wake up early," kazuha replied, plopping down next to you. "what are you doing, though?"

"just talking to my manager about new projects and stuff," you told her, turning to face her.

"oooh, any spoilers?" kazuha asked, her eyes lighting up with curiosity.

"for you?" you thought for a moment. "maybe... but only if they go through."

"okay, i hope it happens! you deserve it," kazuha said, her tone earnest.

"thank you," you replied, giving her an appreciative smile.

just then, you felt the tips of kazuha's fingertips slowly trail up your arm. your heart sped up as her fingers inched closer to your face. she reached the lower part of your cheek and cupped it, making your breath hitch.

the two of you were close enough that you could feel kazuha's breath, the space between you charged with a warmth that made your skin tingle.

"zuha..." you began to say, but before you could finish, kazuha closed the distance with a soft kiss. you wasted no time kissing her back, every sensation heightened.

kazuha backed you up until the back of your legs hit the bed. you slowly sat down, letting her climb into your lap, her arm snaking around your neck as she did. you instinctively moved your hand to her hips, pulling her closer as you both continued to kiss.

soon enough, you were tugging kazuha's sweater over her head, your hands exploring her bare sides. she let out a soft moan at your touch. you moved your lips down to her jawline, and you continued down to her collarbone, placing several gentle hickeys in that area. kazuha gasped softly, her head tilting back in delight, wanting to feel your lips on hers again. she pulled you back in for another kiss, your tongues dancing together in a very heated kiss.

but before you could go any further, you were rudely jolted awake by yunjin yelling at you to wake up.

"what do you want?" you mumbled, your voice still heavy with sleep as you barely opened your eyes.

"sakura is making breakfast for us, and you need to wake up so we can all eat together," yunjin replied.

you groaned, making no motion to get up. the only thing on your mind was that dream you just had—a particularly vivid one about kazuha. a smile crept onto your face as you replayed the scenes in your head.

you just wanted to make that dream a reality.

but that felt too far-fetched; you two had only met a couple of weeks ago. sure, there had been some playful flirting, and you'd even been on a date, but that was just for a bit... right?

of course, it had to. or that's what you tried to tell yourself. you couldn't help but fall for someone who was incredibly pretty, sweet, funny, and just all-around a good person. you could fall for her, but not kazuha. you doubted she could even see you that way.

"ma'am," yunjin snapped you out of your thoughts. "are you gonna get up?"

"sorry, i'm just trying to recover from this dream i had," you said, shaking your head to clear your mind.

it didn't matter; it was just a dream, and that's all it would ever be.

"oh, what kind of dream was it? was it a bad one or something?" yunjin asked, noticing the dazed look on your face.

"oh no! definitely not!" you exclaimed, shaking your head. "it was actually a really good dream."

you tried not to sound too excited, but that clearly didn't work.

"wait... was it—" yunjin paused, trying to stifle a laugh. "did i wake you up from a sex dream?"

"shut up!" you said, grabbing the pillow from under your neck and tossing it at her as she burst into laughter.

"who was it?" yunjin immediately asked once she calmed down.

"none of your business," you said, covering your face with your hands.

"come on, tell me, please," she pleaded, moving to sit on the edge of the bed.

"i can't tell you. you might tell them," you mumbled, avoiding eye contact with her.

"i promise i won't," yunjin said, her tone serious.

finally, you turned to look her in the eye. "it was kazuha."

"oh my god," yunjin said, genuinely shocked.

"i know! i'm shocked too! it was so random; it's never happened before!" you added quickly.

"so i was onto something that one day," yunjin said, unable to hide her grin.

"shut up. it was just one dream," you groaned.

"but you had to think about her for that dream to even happen," yunjin countered.

"true," you admitted, trying to avoid eye contact again. you really didn't want to discuss this.

"well, i would love to talk more about this, but breakfast is ready," yunjin said, checking her phone after reading a message from the group chat.

"thank god, 'cause i didn't want to talk about it anymore," you said, standing up and heading to the bathroom to freshen up before making your way to the kitchen.

as you entered, yunjin noticed how you tensed up whenever kazuha came near.

quickly, yunjin took the seat next to you before kazuha could. "sorry, zuha. she's my guest right now."

"you know i could just sit on the other side, right?" kazuha said with a confused expression on her face as she walked around to the left side of you.

"yeah, obviously," yunjin nodded.

you tried to focus on your plate, but kazuha's presence sent your heart racing again, thoughts of the dream creeping back in. once everyone was settled at the kitchen table, all your nerves went away from the comfortable vibe. 

"i saw the video you posted last night!" eunchae said, trying to contain her laughter as she pulled out her phone. the rest of the table leaned in to watch.

yunjin and you exchanged quick glances, suddenly remembering the dance session you'd filmed. "oh gosh, that!" yunjin laughed, "i totally forgot about it!"

"what were we thinking?" you chimed in, shaking your head to hide your embarrassment. "we looked so dumb!"

chaewon raised an eyebrow, clearly entertained. "i thought it was great! like, who knew you could both be so bad?"

"yeah, that was hilarious!" sakura added, chuckling. "when's the next yunjin-y/n dance collab happening?"

kazuha sat beside you, her smile teasing. "having regrets now?"

you shrugged, feeling the warmth of her gaze. "we really thought we were fucking it up. we were not."

as the conversation flowed, you got lost in the playful banter, especially when kazuha leaned in a little closer, making your heart race. at one point, as you both reached for the last piece of bacon at the same time, your hands brushed against each other. you both paused, and suddenly, a weird tension filled the space between you. 

kazuha smiled shyly, and before you knew it, you found yourself intertwining your fingers with hers under the table. the warmth of her hand made your heart flutter, and you tried to focus on what everyone else was saying.

"you should join us for breakfast more often," chaewon said, breaking the moment, "and stop sneaking in at night like we don't know!"

"it's not my fault these girls only invite me after hours!" you shot back jokingly.

"but definitely," you agreed, giving kazuha's hand a gentle squeeze, your heart racing a little more.

yunjin caught sight of the two of you, a knowing smirk on her face, but she held her tongue for now, letting you two have your moment.

you were planning to head home after breakfast since yunjin had something she needed to film. but then kazuha invited you to hang out in her room, and honestly, how could you say no? yunjin practically pushed you towards kazuha, eager for you to go with her.

now you were sitting on the edge of kazuha's bed, feeling a mix of nerves and excitement as she laid down at the foot of the bed right by you. if you laid down too, you'd be face to face.

"you know, i'm kinda jealous that you snuck in with yunjin last night," kazuha admitted, breaking the silence. that felt kinda familiar...

"she was the only one who wanted to hang out with me," you replied, trying to keep it light.

"i told you to go to sleep," kazuha said. that might've been the exact words she said during your dream.

"i tried, but i couldn't," you admitted.

"will you spend the night with me tonight then?" she asked, her eyes sparkling with hope.

"i'd have to see if i have anything scheduled," you told her, keeping it casual.

"look now then!" kazuha gestured, handing you your phone that was conveniently near her.

you took your phone, trying to ignore how your hand was shaking. unlocking it, you checked your schedule and, of course, it was completely clear. because why wouldn't it be on a random saturday?

"i have nothing," you said, setting your phone back down.

"perfect! you can stay here then," kazuha said, her smile widening.

"yeah," you mumbled.

"you can get comfortable, you know," kazuha teased. "i give you permission to lay on my bed."

"oh, yeah." you lay down on your side, feet dangling off the bed.

"yeah, i like this better," she said, settling into a more relaxed position.

you both stayed like that for a while, the tv playing some random show in the background. you tried to act like you were paying attention, but all you could focus on was how close kazuha was and how unreal it felt to be on her bed. she occasionally glanced over at you, and each time, your heart did a little flip.

and you don't know how the next part happened but eventually, you two were cuddling on her bed. it just happened so naturally at one point.

you heard kazuha shift, her hand grazing the side of your face. her fingers traced over your cheeks and jaw, stopping at your chin before she leaned in and kissed you.

you grabbed the front of her shirt, pulling her closer, craving more of her warmth.

kazuha moved over you, one knee slipping between your thighs. one hand held herself up while the other cradled your cheek, and every touch felt electric. her kisses were heated, and every little whine when you pulled apart just made you want more. but then everything paused, a moment of stillness when her hand left your neck and rested at the top of your shirt.

she pulled away, lips barely brushing against yours, and you could feel the heat radiating between you.

kazuha shifted to straddle you, fingers grazing over your skin, and suddenly, you had to pull away. "wait? is this real?"

"of course it is," kazuha giggled, clearly confused.

you pinched yourself just to make sure. it felt too good to be true like this was another dream. but nope, this was real, and it was happening.

you blinked at her, still trying to wrap your head around everything. "so it isn't a dream this time?"

kazuha raised an eyebrow. "this time?"

"don't worry about it," you waved it off, not wanting to get into it.

"okay..." she seemed curious but stopped herself. "so we're good?"

"yeah, i just needed to clarify that for myself," you said, feeling a bit more at ease.

"good." her fingers traced over your skin, sending shivers down your spine. "i was kinda worried you'd think i was joking or something."

"why would i think that?" you shook your head, your heart racing as her gaze locked onto yours.

kazuha giggled again, that sound making everything feel surreal. "i don't know. i wasn't sure if you were serious about our... whatever this is."

"whatever this is," you echoed, your pulse quickening. "i've been questioning your feelings for a while, and now i finally know."

she leaned in closer, and you could feel the warmth radiating off her. "so, what do you want to do now?" kazuha asked, her voice softening.

"i mean..." you hesitated, your mind racing. "i didn't expect to end up here, you know?"

kazuha smirked, clearly enjoying your flustered state. "yeah, me neither. but now that we are... i think we should just enjoy it."

"right, enjoy it," you repeated, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness.

still straddling you, kazuha leaned down, brushing her lips against yours once more, slow and teasing. you kissed her back, letting the moment sink in. every touch felt electric, every breath a little more urgent.

as you pulled away, you couldn't help but grin. "so, this is how it is, huh?"

"yup," kazuha said, her cheeks flushed. "i'd like to do this more often and see where it could go—maybe even become something more?"

"maybe even something more," you confirmed, your heart racing at the thought.

ALL CHAPTERS !!! | NEXT CH !!!

[xmads-omensx]

It's Okay, I've Got You

Noah Sebastian x reader One Shot

Masterlist

Word Count: 1,736

Content Warnings: Swearing, fluff, slight angst if you squint, thunderstorms

Summary: Y/N has never let Noah stay at her place, and she has never let herself stay at his. Noah gets to the bottom of it one night when a thunderstorm forces her to stay at his place.

Noah and I had been dating for around three months, but hadn’t spent the night at each other’s places yet. Don’t get me wrong, I would love to be able to stay over at his place, or for him to stay at mine, but I just hadn’t made that leap yet.

It wasn’t for Noah’s lack of trying however. He had asked me if I wanted to stay over after movie dates at his place, dinner dates that ran late int the night, even driving aimlessly after getting a drive-thru meal.

He had stayed late at my place, clearly hinting towards him staying the night, but I had always played as being completely oblivious to it.

One night in particular, he was sprawled out on my sofa, with me curled up in his side as we talked about how his tour that he had just finished had been. He was visibly exhausted and all that he wanted was to curl up in bed and sleep “for at least twenty seven days” as he had said to me when he walked through the door of my apartment.

I felt his breathing start to slow as sleep overtook him, and as guilty as I felt about it, I started to shake his shoulder to wake him up. His eyes fluttered awake as he gave me a sleepy smile. “Sorry baby.” He grumbled.

“Do you want me to call you a cab?” I offered, rubbing his arm affectionately. “You probably shouldn’t drive home if you’re this tired honey.”

“I can just crash on your couch if you’re cool with it?” He said, fighting to keep his beautiful brown eyes open.

“No, Noah you need to be in your own bed. You’ve just come back from a big tour.”  I tried to convince him.

“Yeah, you’re probably right. But I’m so fucking tired.” He mumbled sleepily.

“Noah, I’m calling you a cab.” I told him, grabbing my phone and booking an uber to take him home.

“Baby I promise I’m fine on the couch.” He tried to convince me.

“Noah. You’re going home and that’s the end of it.” I huffed, frustrated.

I felt guilty for doing this to him, but I didn’t want to have to make up some bullshit excuse and this was the best I could think of. he was just back from tour after all, and a night in his own bed would do him some good.

Truth was, there was a reason that I didn’t want him to stay, and why I couldn’t stay at his place, but I was too embarrassed for him to find out. It all came to a head one night during a terrible thunderstorm that began whilst myself and Noah were curled up on his bed watching Demon Slayer together.

I heard the pitter-patter of rain on the windows and didn’t think much of it. I had always liked rain and it didn’t seem so bad that it would stop me from driving myself back home when our date was over.

Noah pulled me closer into his side as the rain got heavier, making me feel so much cozier and my heart warmed at his action. He kissed the top of my head and rested his cheek there. “Rain’s getting heavier.” He whispered.

“In that case, I should probably head home before it gets worse.” I started to pull away from him as I moved to gather all of my belongings.

“Baby no, just stay.” He protested.

“No, Noah, it’s fine. I don’t live far and the roads will be quiet. It’s fine.” I grabbed my phone charger and shoved it into my bag, moving to grab my phone and car keys off of his bedside table. Before I could, Noah grabbed my hand and placed a kiss on the back of it.

“Please baby, I want you to stay. Plus you hate driving in the dark.” He tried to convince me.

“It’s fine. It’s a short drive. I’ll send you a photo of me with a spoon on my head or some shit like that so you know I’m home safe.” I said with a laugh.

“Baby it’s raining.” He said.

“It’s not that bad and I’m sure it’ll pass soon.” I replied.

As soon as those words left my mouth, a huge crack of lightning lit up Noah’s bedroom, followed by a huge crash of thunder.

“Okay, you’re definitely not going anywhere.” Noah stated, standing up and walking towards his wardrobe. “I’ve got some clothes you can borrow and then you can head back to your place tomorrow.”

I couldn’t control the fear that overtook my body as tears involuntarily fell down my face.

“Here’s an old shirt you can borrow…” Noah trailed off once he had turned back round to face me. “What’s up baby?” he walked over to me, placing the folded shirt on his bed, before taking me into a warm hug.

“Nothing it’s fine.” I mumbled into his hoodie.

“It’s not nothing if you’re crying babe. What’s going on?” He pushed.

“It’s embarrassing and you’ll laugh at me.” I said, looking at my feet.

“How about you get changed and we get into bed and we can talk about it?” Noah suggested.

Feeling defeated, I nodded my head and shuffled towards his ensuite bathroom. Locking the door, I looked up into the mirror and saw that my eyes had started to become puffy and my makeup had started to run. This was so fucking dumb.

After wiping my face clean with some of the makeup wipes Noah had bought when I started to hang out at his place more, I realised that I was going to have to tell him my deep, dark, embarrassing secret.

Accepting my defeat, I unlocked the bathroom door and opened it. I was greeted by Noah already sat in bed with a warm smile. The room was now only illuminated by his LED lights that were turned on a warm orange.

“Feel better baby?” Noah asked softly. I nodded weakly in reply, walking towards the bed. I hopped up and curled up with my head resting on Noah’s chest.

“You want to talk about it?” He whispered. I shrugged my shoulders. “It might help to talk about it.”

“It’s embarrassing and you’ll laugh at me.” I sighed in defeat.

“I swear to god, I won’t laugh. I would never laugh at you, beautiful.” He reassured.

“Imscaredofthedark.” I quickly mumbled into his bare chest.

“Hmm?” He questioned. “What did you say baby, I didn’t hear you.”

I sighed and said quietly, “I’m scared of the dark.”

There was a beat of silence before either of us spoke up again.

“I’m scared of heights.” Noah stated simply.

“What?” Questioned.

“Sorry, are we not just listing things that we are scared of?” He asked with a smile on his face.

“No Noah! I’m being serious. I’m scared, and I was too embarrassed to stay over or for you to stay over at my place and see my stupid fucking nightlight and laugh at me! There! I said it! Happy now?” I yelled at him in frustration.

“Wait here.” Noah got out of bed, put a shirt on and left his bedroom. I could hear footsteps pattering down the stairs. I sat back and sighed in frustration. He was going to leave me because I’m so fucking childish and too much of a pussy to be taken seriously by any man ever. Fuck my life.

About ten minutes had passed and Noah still wasn’t back. Oh my god. Was he downstairs telling Jolly and Jesse? They would all be laughing at me too!

There was never a real reason why the dark scared me so much. I knew nothing would hurt me. I guess it was always just the idea of being alone in a space that didn’t allow me to see everything. The unknown aspect of it always creeped me out.

That’s why my grandmother had bought me a nightlight when I moved out of the family home. She was the only one who had ever taken my phobia seriously. She had passed away about a year ago, and no one had ever understood me since, so I just stopped telling people when my nightlight came up in conversation, or staying over at other people’s houses.

Tears welled up in my eyes again and I began to cry softly into Noah’s pillow that still smelled like him.

Suddenly, his bedroom door opened slowly and in walked Noah. His hair was wet and his shirt was drenched and stuck to his chest. I looked at him with an expression of pure confusion. He whipped off his wet shirt and threw it in the laundry basket before grabbing a towel and drying hir hair slightly.

He held out his Bad Omens bag and handed it to me, then climbed back into bed and sat where he previously was.

“Where did you go?” I asked.

“Open the bag.” He smiled down at me, wiping the tears from my cheeks.

I pulled on the zipper and opened the bag. Inside was a nightlight. But, not just any nightlight, MY nightlight. The one from my apartment. He had gone out in the thunderstorm and gotten it for me.

“Do you want to do the honours or should I?” He asked with a smile.

“What?” I replied. Still in slight shock from this romantic gesture.

“Plug it in? Do you want to do it, or should I?”

“Hmm… You can.” I said.

“Hang on then.” He gently took the nightlight from my hands and walked over to the outlet that was next to his bedroom door. He turned it on and it lit up with a soft, warm glow. Noah waked back over to the bed and climbed in. he then reached over to his bedside table and turned off his LED lights, making the room darker.

Noah could feel my body tense up slightly, so he pulled me closer to him and placed a kiss on top of my head.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you.” He whispered as he slowly began to rock me back and forth to comfort me. “Nothing is going to hurt you. Not when I’m here.”

I could feel sleep take over my body as I listened to his calming, steady heartbeat.

That was the best night sleep I had gotten in years.

[50cal-fullauto-astarion]

SUCROSE

Sugar Daddy!Older!König x Organic Chemist!Civ!FReader [NSFW, 4.3k]

You're an organic chemist that sugar babies for a laugh, because your days are dull and long. König is an old, battered soldier of fortune that has been sugaring you with an intensity bordering on religion. Neither of you are going to say the quiet part out loud.

CW: unprotected vaginal sex, doggy style, descriptions of nuclear annihilation, descriptions of the opioid crisis, criminally emotionally constipated adults. Barely edited.

König’s place is Spartan. Most things about him are. But he tells you to do whatever you want, you've got his black card if you want anything, and you raise a brow in question.

“Anything, huh?”

He gives you a dry look. “Anything. Literally, I do not give a shit.”

Almost sounds like a dare.

You don't make yourself too-too at home. This thing is still new—the arrangement, the dynamic, the thrill. You know better that it could burn out at any second and leave you all the way hanging. Not a worry, because you are in charge of yourself, and this is only for fun. 

You've been too abrasive for too long to have faith in the idea that others will look out for you. That's always been your duty to yourself. It's sacred. It's safety. 

But he breathes you deep, wanting you in a way that feels like need. 

He likes it when you just come over to his place, because you don't invite him to yours. He likes it when you don't wear anything fancy in particular. He likes it when you put on his boxers and his t-shirt and crash on the bed with him. 

“Bad work day?” he asks, gaiter pulled up over his nose, hiding his face while some bullshit plays on the TV and his fingers rub tenderly behind your ear. 

“Hm.” It's a huff of a laugh. You stay resting on his chest. Your fingertips have only just slipped under the waistband of his sweats, resting on the small paunch at the bottom of his belly. “Didn't want you getting too comfortable alone.”

“Never been,” he laughs in return, a low and rough haa. “The sentiment is appreciated.”

You feel bad for trying to make the joke. You've never been comfortable alone, either. “It's just something you learn to live around,” you further, hoping like hell he understands, because you lack the words otherwise. 

“Yeah,” he hums, his arm tightening where it wraps around you, because he does. “Yeah.”

There are the quiet nights like those, when he just likes having you pulled tight to his body, running your hand over his stomach, ignoring the litany of scars—surgical, and violent, and otherwise—marring his hide. 

Then there are nights where he's a nightmare, and it is a riot to play with him. 

+

There's no preamble, only action. He sends you money for dinner, and the moment you're done, you're asked over to his place. 

“Do you want me to pick anything up for you? To eat,” you clarify, standing on the curb outside of the first restaurant he ever took you to—it's become a regular in your rotation. You're still in your work clothes. You don't even feel particularly human, just functional. 

Fuck's sake, you didn't even expect him to call tonight. 

“No,” he says, his voice tense, even on the phone, “just you. Now.”

You're barely able to knock on the door before he's snapping it open, gaiter pulled up, wearing Dickies and a fleece. 

“You g—?” You don't even get to finish asking, body in flight.

You yelp in surprise as he snatches an arm around your waist, the other sliding up your sensible, frumpy skirt, curling under your thigh. 

He picks you up like you weigh nothing, and your stomach flips at the bizarre, alien sensation. You've never been small. Delicate. Petite—what a vile word, an ideal adored by many, one that you've never embodied, and never could. There is no amount of plastic surgery or product that will ever make you desirably little. A stupid and furious bead burns down into your sternum, one that turns its face from all the boys and men that moaned for you, buried balls-deep in your tight cunt, only to spin a tight 180° and bitch that they wanted a woman they could toss around, manhandle, feel powerful for moving. 

They would fuck you, and want you, but only at the demand of curiosity, lust, novelty. Who would claim you. Who would ache for you. 

König pulls you onto his hip, gripping your ass cheek tight in one hand, and carries you to the bed.

“On all fours,” he growls, turning and swallowing hard, fishing out his wallet, and as an afterthought catches up with him, he adds, “please.”

Your heart is racing from the way he'd bodily executed his decision with you. Your brain is shocked into a standby state, working on intuition and instinct. You arrange yourself on hands and knees, ass up in the air, and pull your panties down, hobbling your knees. At least those kinda cute, and you have the thigh high hose on, sheer and black with lines down the back. 

You thank every fucking deity you know that you hadn't done your laundry and had clean long-johns to wear under baggy jeans today. 

He drops things in front of your face. Papers.

“What,” you grunt, not a question, a complete incomprehension. 

“Read those.” As if that wasn't clear. He hooks his hands under your hips, making you grab for the papers when he drags you to the edge of the bed. There's popping and a grunt as he gets on his knees behind you, and you barely tighten up your throat enough to catch the bark that wants to escape. 

“Fuck—don't!” you snap, frenzied, but he licks a hot, wet stripe from your clit to your asshole, about ready to bury his face. 

His fingers keep your ass spread open and they tense with frustration when he snipes back, “Vas? What the fuck could you—”

“Just fuck me, I'm already good.” You hear another sound of frustration out of him, something that feels like don't be dumb, since you both know exactly how fucking big his cock is, even for your well-played cunt. “You already got me going,” you hiss, shifting your hips, hating that you feel you have to admit this at all, “you—when you picked me up. That did enough. Just—it's time to fuck.”

His hands relax, sliding to push your ugly skirt up over your hips. “Just from picking you up?” he asks, as if that should be impossible. 

“Yes, just from picking me up,” you shoot back, this close to hiding your face in your arms. “I don’t get picked up. I don’t get—moved. Whatever. It was new. That doesn’t happen to me, unless you’ve somehow missed how I’m fucking built.”

All the air goes out of the room as you pull the admission like pulling your own teeth. A crack in the careful facade. A hairline fracture. You are not perfectly unflappable. You are not wholly without insecurity. You are as weak and human as everyone else. 

What a strange, ugly feeling to allow passage through your chest; a slow, inky swimmer swooping around your lungs and stomach, turning everything it touches to ice. You’re supposed to be untouchable, aren’t you? You’ve gone years without that odd, festering jealousy rearing its head. You’re not sure why it does so now.

König just taps the papers again, his breathing strained and heavy, bending to kiss your neck, just below the spot behind your ear that makes your skin snap with static electricity. “Let me eat your pussy while you read those. Don’t like condoms. Don’t want to use them anymore,” he grunts, the teeth he presses into your neck making you realize that he’s pulled down his gaiter.

It’s a weird enough request that it resets your brain. It allows you to read, your head fogged with discordant lust and curiosity as he sinks back behind you, bathing your pussy in heavy, slow attention with his split tongue teasing your clit.

It’s paperwork. A clean result from a recent STI test, and the discharge paperwork from a vasectomy. For your high-geared mind, it has taken an embarrassingly long time to click. He doesn’t like condoms, and doesn’t want to use them. The papers are assurances to you. He’s clean. He won’t get you pregnant.

In the five percent of your brain that is not being used to process the complete annihilation of your soaked pussy with pleasure, there’s a floor-rolling bout of hysterical, giddy laughter that has taken up residence, darting through the fine links of your firing neurons. 

This is a romantic gesture. He is a frightening, stone-faced man, who is twin to you in strangeness, and this is outpouring of bizarre softness and startling understanding. Is there anyone else in the world that has fucked you, let alone exists, that would know the way you find comfort and security in medical results and discharge papers on official letterheads?

If there is, you’ve never met them, and you don’t think you will.

Between his moves—a filthy, slurping plunge into your cunt, figure eights around your swollen and throbbing clit with the halves of his tongue, and almost delicate, sucking kisses that puff your labia—you still find the energy and wherewithal to bust his balls, even as he’s making you so wet that it slicks your thighs, “Alright. So, how do you know I’m clean?” It is a sentence you can barely manage as your body shakes.

There comes a laugh, rumbling and serrated, as he nips your shaking thigh with his teeth, paired with a familiar clap on the ass like you’re a breeding mare prized not for progeny but sentiment and a fondness for your rotten, crank attitude. “You’re mean as a fucking snake, Schatzi, but I know you’re not mean enough to let me tongue-fuck you if you had something.”

You maybe should not laugh at such a succinct round-up of one of your most defining character flaws, but you are, and you grin sharply looking back over your shoulder at him as he rises. His hands—huge, warm, coarse, careful—slide over your hips to savor your shape.

“Further up the bed,” he coaches you, leaning forward just long enough to press a heavy kiss to your mouth, pushing his tongue past your lips so you can taste yourself mixed with his natural metallic tang. 

One of your hands comes to his jaw, pulling him back in when he tries to move away, for just one selfish moment more, swirling your tongues together, needful of his heat and his closeness and the feeling of your noses crushes together as clumsy as college freshmen set loose in a wide, free world.

“You don’t do fuck-all in half-measures,” you mutter, hand finally sliding away, your lids clicking open crisp. You love seeing the scars mutilating his mouth, the way that flush brightens the coppery tint of his skin. The silver in his hair seems brighter, and the gold of the wheat-colored strands giving the silver a home seems deeper, more molten. 

He is a beautiful man. He is a beautiful, beautiful man, and the look he gives you reads weakness.

What a rotten old soldier. What a battered old war dog. 

You don’t want to think about what it means if the weakness isn’t a figment of your imagination. If it is symptomatic of a larger trend; an oncoming crisis, a trend that sweeps and fells and swallows up entire communities, with a bent toward becoming endemic to the local culture, and almost impossible to kill forever after.

+

The opioid epidemic has always come in greater, and greater waves. 

The first in the nineties, off natural and semi-synthetic painkillers, a slow swell beginning with easier manufacturing, laxer laws, and gargantuan pharmaceutical conglomerates pushing-pushing-pushing the easy writing of prescriptions on countless doctors. Generational seeds buried in families, in communities—germinating at inhuman rates, weaving addiction into the DNA.

The second came with the second decade of the new millenia. A resurgence in heroin, when the world began to come down on doctors with fat Rx pads and quick-writing fingers. When you cannot find a fix legally, you will find it illegally, and it comes at much higher a cost. 

There were always more waves, and different ones, and quieter ones. There were always synthesizers, cookers, designers, manufacturers—legal and illegal alike. 

Fent, roxie, percs, bars. Heroin, krokodil, bath salts, flakka. Uppers. Downers. Barbiturates, benzos, phenobarbital. 

It all ties into dopamine, and the ancient, pointlessly leftover biological mechanic of addiction. The sizzling, bumpers-and-bells-and-bright-lights screech of a reward center well-fed. 

König is a beast of a man, and his brain is brutally hardwired for addiction. He's an alcoholic in on-off recovery, he's a medical req amphetamine junkie. He no longer chases adrenaline like most men chase tail, but he sprints after it in his tense, jerking dreams. 

He's just a dog, with wet sad eyes, and his heart chases after trucks that will never see him around blind turns. His surety that the next roaring beast coming around the switchback bend will finally love him back is the thing that is going to kill him. 

+

König can't spell for shit, and his grammar is a barely functional mess of punctuation and weird spacing, but he has a terrifying mind for numbers and nuclear engineering. He's told you before that it takes 10^-20 seconds for an atom to split to kickoff nuclear fission, the process that powers atomic bombs.

You're a doctor, and it didn't at all feel stupid to ask, “Fuck. How can you even comprehend how fast that is?”

You walked side-by-side with him in winter coats. He shrugged at the time, and said, “Hm. Alright, you're at the market. You're looking at apples, or arugula, or fish, or whatever the fuck. We don't know who hit the button, but the missile carrying the warhead is going twenty-four thousand K-P-H. Fifteen thousand miles per hour. You're in Berlin. As soon as the launch is registered, everyone starts launching.”

He stepped closer, elbow bumping yours. When he registered your hard swallow, he slid his arm around your neck and pulled you into his side. 

“So the bombs are launched,” you prompted him, tucked into his side. “When do I die?”

“You died ten minutes before World War III ended,” he hummed, pressing his nose into the spot before your ear, brushing his gaiter-covered lips over your cheek and ear lobe, “you were turned into pure carbon staining the ground, and you never knew there was a bomb.”

10^-20 seconds for the bomb to perfectly obliterate any and all existence of your entire life. Annihilation so utter, there would be no DNA leftover. 

Bombs, destruction, drugs, addiction.

Control. Control. Control.

König will never know that you passed through the eye of the needle in close to the same fucking unfathomable shard of a second, fighting tooth and nail to choose between launching off the bed, denying his low-simmering feelings, and black listing his entire existence in your memory—versus embracing the insane, helpless plummet, releasing your death grip on the demand of understanding and autopsy of everything unknown. 

Your hand loosens on that chain.

+

“Yeah, fuck it. Fuck me,” you say, recovering from the staggering out of body experience. 

He leaves you ass-up in the cold of his apartment, windows open, and returns with his laptop and his black card, throwing them down in front of you. His hands clap your skin as they land on your hips, anchoring him as he pulls himself into place behind you, stroking his cock needlessly because it can't possibly get any harder or fatter.

“Buy whatever you fucking want. You've got ten grand. You don't spend it, you don't cum,” he grunts in a hoarse voice, and that's every bit of warning you get before he plunges his cock in your soaked, swollen pussy, bucking and grunting as you spasm around him and try to scurry away out of instinct. His hips slam against your ass, hands dragging you back against him, and you feel and hear the noise ripping in his throat like the gut-growl start of a chainsaw.

There’s a wolverine in your throat—something, perhaps, that fought hard, and died even harder than that in another life—and it does not take kindly to being bossed, bucked, bitched. It bares its fangs through your mouth, goading you to turn your head, to catch König’s eyes and lock onto them like you’ve caught him in unkind crosshairs. 

“Do I still get to cum if I just make one big, fat buy?” you ask hoarsely, the silver of your teeth flashing between your lips like a threat, eyes wild and too-bright. “Maybe I buy you a decent fucking couch? A good dining table?”

That mauled mouth of his curls into a smirk, and his hand skates up your back—turning threat and  tenderness into a single entity—gripping the back of your neck firmly, but not cruelly, as he redirects you to the screen. 

“You could. Of course, you fucking could. I’m not a liar. But.” He bends low, snapping a sharp and sweet love bite against the skin of your neck, in a spot that your collars will barely hide. “That would be fucking boring. I don’t think you’re boring.”

The tone begs you to tell him he’s wrong in a challenge.

You laugh, backed into a clever corner, gripping the sides of the laptop, dragging it closer as he starts a slow, rolling rhythm, sliding his cock in and out of you. Just taking his sweet time, warming you up all over again, getting those stiff hips of his to unlock, too—more used to marching and storming, now, than fucking.

You start by faking him out as he stretches your wet, throbbing pussy with his grappling-to-relax rhythm, pulling up a Tiffany Co. hardware necklace selling for $4,100.00. Its greatest sins are that it is not only ugly, but, far worse, it is boring. 

“Schatzi,” he growls, fingers tightening on your hips, and, good fuck, it makes you laugh. That earns you the slam of his hips flush to your ass, stealing the air from your lungs, and his huge hand tightens in the back of your hair, bringing your eyes back up as your head swims and your stomach jumps.

“Got the hint,” you wheeze, clicking off the tab, trying to focus on anything but the size of him inside you, pounding you like a brutal metronome. His breathing is tight, and every stroke of his cock sails him straight across your g-spot. Makes your brain shimmer like the bath bombs and body lava you load your carts with. Makes your guts feel filled with poured platinum, same shade and shine as the teal sapphire pendant earrings you purchase.

The orgasm builds in your lower belly—a broiling heat, a ten-ton tightness, driving your pelvis down with its demanding weight—and König stays steady fucking you, relentless with his perfect, unerring rhythm. Somehow that makes it so much more difficult to withstand. 

The first time you had fucked, he had lasted so long you thought he wasn’t going to fucking cum at all, but, no. He was just beastly in bed, sweat pouring down his temples and chest, eyes smirking over his mask until you ripped the fucking thing down and kissed him. He’d tasted, wonderfully, of your pussy and pleasure.

The stamina of a maniac, and the patience he professes that his younger self could’ve never maintained.

At $8,370, your focus gives, and you almost collapse, elbows sliding out from under you. You bury your head in the blankets beneath you, smelling his cologne and the faint odor of his sleep sweat, and it turns your stomach into a cyclone. You’re kissing the razor’s edge of finishing, so close you feel it flooding your blood like the skull-crack cold of a fresh IV line of saline on a hot, sick stomach.

All at once, he stops, one hand heavy-spread across your lower back, the other tight around the shape of your hip.

“H-huh, f—fuck,” you moan, pathetic and brainless.

“You done?” he asks, breathing hard. He grunts like the grit of a stone mill when you nod your head, then shake it, body too confused to settle on an answer. “Think about it. You’re almost there. Tell me how much you have left to spend.”

You turn your head in the blankets, taking a sideways glance at the screen. It’s hard to tell. His hand slips lower, between your legs, cupping your pussy and applying pressure, though he doesn’t play with you. 

Simple math. You’re a doctor. This should not be difficult. But Sisyphus would have an easier time pushing his damned boulder up his hill than you are with basic subtraction.

“One—one-six-three-nil.”

“Mm. Mhm. Sixteen hundred. I’m almost done, want you to cum, too. Get creative.” His voice is hoarse, tight with restraint, and even in your stupor, you can tell he’s struggling as much as you are.

With a sluggish nod, painfully conscious of his cock sitting heavy and throbbing in your cunt, you pull yourself up on one shoulder, slumping as close to the laptop as you can manage. The next page you go to belongs to his bank, and his fingers knead into the small of your back as you one-handed type his account information (the gift of an obscene amount of trust, or the hallmark insanity of a man who simply does not have a spare fuck to give).

Takes ten seconds to transfer a solid two grand into your checking account, and König doesn’t even chuckle. 

He fucking moans. A weak, broken-legged sound that shakes his entire body so thoroughly it rings through yours like church bells.

His grip tightens, and he muscles you onto your back like an afterthought. Slops your legs back open and drops all his weight on top of you, burying his face against yours as he fucks right back into you. He’s done dicking around (you would laugh at the stupidity of your own thoughts, had your brain stem not been atomized by this exact man), hitting a nightmare rhythm of thrusting and grinding that rubs your clit, and just tosses what’s left of your mind in the damned incinerator.

The build is so fast and reckless—a nigh-on lethal vent of pressure that leaves you half-blind and shaking, finally allowed to sprint after what felt like a lifetime of restraint—that you’ve already started to cum, and your mind is only just now catching up with your body. König’s breath is furnace-hot, rolling over your skin like the lungs of a bellows press, your cunt spasming and clenching his throbbing cock wildly. 

When the world finally takes back control of your facilities—putting a fading, slow halt to your paint smear perception of reality—König is crushing you with his weight. His hands grip at the underside of your thighs, and he breathes into the hair behind your ear. “Will move, soon,” he assures you, but you shake your head. 

“Stay put. Your weight feels good,” you respond, chest beautifully crushing under his body, and it calms your heart with the comfort of pressure. 

Lazily, and without much thought, you graph out chemical sequences across his back. Prolactin, dopamine, oxytocin, endorphins, serotonin. All the good shit, overwhelming your blood stream.

+

You're the one to get up for water, calling him ‘old man’ in a snort that earns you a swat to the bare ass, and another gravel-grit laugh. He looks grateful for it all the same—that small measure of care and familiarity. 

Dog, dog, dog, your mind chants. He's just an old dog aching for a fleece bed and a kind hand. The stone in your stomach sinks heavier, and you turn your thoughts away from it. 

When you return, you collapse in the bed beside him after handing over the glass. He's propped himself against the headboard, legs splayed wide and lazy, the heaving of his chest from exertion shallowed by rest. His profile is harsh in the unfiltered light of his side table lamp, and the cold air blowing in through the cracked windows is a relief on your friction-chafed skin.

His skin is gold in this light, like his lightning-streaked hair. His form is sleek and powerful, even in repose. The bulk of him eats up half of the king-sized bed, dressed in barebones linens, and you think of tragedies. How perfectly-built demigods always came with a fatal flaw that became their death, and how nature couldn't figure out a way to give stronger hearts to massive creatures. 

Their bodies simply demanded too much fuel to keep alive for too long. They are powerful, undeniable, and gone so very quickly.

But looking at König, maybe god is too magnificent a term for him. You know he'd despise it. Bomb is a better fit. 

Yeah, no. That is the better fit. The type of man he is? One with his nature? He'd be dead before he even realized he'd detonated. And he'd kill as many people as he could with the blast radius. 

“You ever think about going back to school?” you ask in a fucked-out rasp, as your lips cut into a lopsided half-smile, and he laughs, smirking.

“I fuck you stupid, or…?” he teases, his teeth glinting in the light of the room, eyes pale and calm like cold water.

‘No,’ is the real answer, and it continues, ‘I have only just discovered the fear that comes after realization, and I have let myself pass through the keyhole to the other side. I have never seen this place, one where there is enough room for another person besides myself, and it frightens me. It could be filled, and it could be emptied, and I know that I do not have the resilience to live with that void.’

“Shit. I think you did,” is what you snort instead, pulling the sheets up over your hips. “I'm going to doze for a little while. Then, I'll call an Uber home.”

König says nothing, making an unsure noise of thought in his throat, but you know he won't pursue his offer, because you will turn it down, and he is fragile when it comes to rejection. 

Coward that you are, you allow the invitation to spend the night die in his chest, cemented by him leaving the bed shortly after to shower.

You are not ready to admit to even yourself that there is room for him. What else is there to do but run from it?

[aangelinakii]

BRUCE WAYNE + JEALOUSY.

note : this was requested, and i didn't know if you wanted an imagine or headcanons, but i felt it would be easier as a headcanon sooo here we are :)

not proofread !

bruce is not easily "jealousified"

made jealous ?

he's not easily made jealous

he's quite sensible, mature, understanding, all those things

i've gonz into this in detail in the batfam love languages and i will find a way to go into it in every headcanon but bruce really cherishes trust

wants to trust you and wants you to trust him

so, if he trusts you enough, he doesn't doubt for a moment that you're not enabling the guy flirting with you

what i'm trying to say is that he doesn't get jealous of you or anything because he trusts you wouldn't purposely put yourself in a position like that

but he may get jealous ( he says protective, but potato potato ) whzn he notices someone getting overly comfortable with you like

or flirty

he can tell the signs of a flirt even when he's on the other end of the room

he's an ex-serial flirt after all

say you're at an event together, a gala, you're both all dressed up

and you look gorgeous / handsome, he just can't stop looking at you the entire night, even when he's halfway across rhe room

but he's noticed someone else has their eyes on you

i mean everybody there has admired you for a few seconds tonight

but i mesn this guy is like

looking likz they're about to approach

and bruce is trying to time it right before he steps in, becquse who knows ? maybe he's delusional and been imagining it this whole time

( spoiler alert he hasn't !!!!! )

as soon as he sees thzt guy in his rented tux approach you, bruce excuses himself from the conversation he was having with someone to insert himself in this new unwanted one

slings a casual but protective arm around your waist, careful not to snag your attire on his cufflink, and offers the person that award winning smile

they'll back off pretty quick

bruce wayne is nice and all, but any sane person would refrain from getting on his bad side

which is probably why tommy elliot keeps trying to call his office

if in public though, bruce may have some trouble being more assertive

like he doesn't want to make a scene, and he's literallh at the grocery store with you becausz you wanted him along to grab somz ingredients to cook together back at your place

it isn't super obvious who he is at first

a guy in a dallas cowboys cap, his usual white button-up, black trousers and shiny leather oxfords replaced with a white t-shirt, the sleeves tight around his biceps, a pair of jeans and some sneakers he isn't quite comfortable in yet

like that's not bruce wayne is it ???

and who knew he was a cowboys fan ??

he was off in the frozen aisle, contemplating whether to buy a box of ice lollies to share with you after dinner

when he returned to you in the fresh fruits section, a man was talking to you

not bugging you per se, no bullying or harassmzent

but he sees him pull his phone from his pocket and gesture to it

this guy wants your number ????

i think the fuck not

so bruce approaches, acting all casual until he's beside you, frosty box of lollies under his arm, and tips his cap up slightly to reveal more of his face

that alone is enough for the guy to slide his phone back into his pocket

bruce doesn't want to embarrass or shame anybody, but he does know he wants to show the world how important you are to him

it's not your fault everybody wants you so bad !!

[katyawriteswhump]

the freak in the penthouse part 12

E-rated (for sexual content), accidental millionaire eddie/sex-worker steve. On tumblr: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3.1 Part 3.2 Part 4.1 Part 4.2 Part 5.1 Part 5.2 Part 6.1 Part 6.2 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 or search #thefreakinthepenthouse :)

On AO3 FYI, I’ve basically imagined that Dustin and Suzie are roughly the same age as the others in this, so in their late teens and early twenties…

Chapter 12: reality check

Five Days later

Steve picked up the phone and dialled Eddie’s number. It rang twice, before the answerphone stabbed him with the same old jack-knife in the gut:

“Hi! This is Suzie.”

“And this is Dustin.”

“We’re not around right now—

“—or we’re having our downtime, together or apart, which is super important to us—” 

Jesus Christ, kill me already.

Steve had heard this message a dozen times. Dustin and Suzie sounded so goddamn chirpy, like they were going to explode into song. And Steve had endured waaaaay too many chirpy songs the last few nights, courtesy of Robin’s mom’s cassette deck.

He endured the rest of their nail-scapingly annoying message and braced himself for the Ding!

“Hi, this is Steve. Again. Look, I really need to talk to Ed—”

“Answerphone tape full,” recited an electronic voice, the polar-opposite of chirpy.

“Fuck!” Steve slammed down the receiver. 

Why wasn’t Eddie returning his calls?

Okay, Steve had been sleeping a ton the past few days, might’ve missed something. Robin’s leave was over today, and her mom worked really long shifts…

A muffled meeeeow had him looking up sharpish. Resident cat, Fernando, glared at him through the window.

“All right, I’m sorry I stole your couch. I don’t hate you, it’s your fur that hates me. Way to go making me feel even shittier about it.”

He glared back. Trouble was, this was Fernando’s home, not his. Robin had technically moved out last year, and he’d barely got a nickel to slot into the housekeeping kitty.

He was gonna have to sell his watch. Or the guitar. Dammit, he’d wanted to check in with Eddie first, but what choice did he have?

He leafed through the telephone directory for music stores, scraped together some loose change, and caught a bus across the city. On the journey, he missed his old Sony Walkman as never before. Thanks to Robin’s mom, ‘Mamma Mia’ by Abba ear-wormed through his brain. Uuuuuuurgh! He  hugged the glittery guitar case tightly and attempted to pep himself up.

Eddie said he was crazy about Steve. Steve sure as heck felt the same. 

“Yes, I’ve been broken-hearted, blue since the day we parted. Why, why did I ever let you go?”

“Shut the hell up, Agnetha,” he muttered, earning himself a scathing glance from a woman sitting close. But Steve hadn’t been broken-hearted when he left the hotel. He’d been scared shitless over that fact he was losing his memory as well as his mind. He still was. His future with Eddie had been the one thing he’d felt faintly optimistic about, and… 

“Look at me now, will I ever learn?”

No. No way. Eddie was a good person. Yeah, Robin had passed hours bad-mouthing him. No matter. Steve believed in Eddie. Well, he desperately wanted to. He was getting really worried about him—about whether he’d really been ‘cured’ of his agoraphobia, and about his overly sass-tastic and curiously absent friends. 

He missed him so much. Christ, it hurt.

In ‘Jivin’ Jams,’ Steve laid the guitar case on the counter and opened it. The store-owner’s brows shot sky high: “Where did you get this, son?”

“A friend gave it me,” said Steve. “There was a rumor it once belonged to Jimi Hendrix or something.” 

The guy stared at him, mega-intense, which Steve took to be a positive sign. Maybe he should play hardball, get competing offers from a bunch of stores.

“I’m looking for at least two-thousand bucks,” he ventured.

“I got some catalogues out back that should help me figure out what it’s worth. Gimme a tick.”

Steve shrugged. “Sure.”

The dude vanished. Steve waited, grinning when a track he knew—‘Friday I’m in love,” by The Cure—drowned out the Abba hell-loop in his head. He remembered this one. Yeah, he’d been flat on his back on that honking great bed, with his ankles looped around Eddie’s neck. While merrily fucking Steve, Eddie had sung along like an idiot:

“Monday, you can hold your head, Tuesday, Wednesday, stay in bed, Or Thursday, watch the walls instead, It's Friday, I'm in love…”

Christ, he missed Eddie’s dumbass ‘o’ face. He missed how Eddie always needed him to come too, loving it when Steve squirted across those lick-tastic tatts. Yeah, he missed… so much. If he got a decent amount for the guitar, maybe he and Eddie could rent a place together. Get back to fucking every day of the week…

He was still daydreaming, smirking vaguely, when the two policemen walked in. 

“I didn’t know it was stolen!” protested Steve. The son-of-a-bitch store-owner handed the guitar over the counter to one of the cops.

“Where d’you get it then?” asked the other.

“A friend gave it to me.” Steve’s legs started to feel wibbly.

“This friend got a name?”

Steve bit hard into his bottom lip.

“You think on it, and tell us when we get to the precinct, huh?” 

They took his knapsack and turned out his pockets. When the handcuffs came out, the bubble of panic in his windpipe ballooned.

“I didn’t know it was stolen,” he repeated, sort of on autopilot. They cuffed him anyway. Outside the store, the cool air smarted against his burning skin. “C-crap. No, please! Look… I… I didn’t know!”

He was guided into the back of their patrol vehicle and the door slammed shut. He shut his eyes, rested his head back, and battled his instinct to struggle against the cuffs.

OH MY GOD, EDDIE! YOU REALLY WERE TAKEN FOR A CHUMP!  

Unless he knew it was stolen? No. No way, no way. This isn’t happening. This isn’t happening. Okay… breathe. Keep calm, right? Shiiiiit! 

Steve had been picked up by the police once before. It’d been soon after he’d run from that man, when he was on the streets, and… Nope, nope, NOPE.

His mind grew as clammed up as his body. Which was probably how, breathing fast and shallow, he survived the short journey to the precinct. Still kinda dazed, he was uncuffed and processed. His rescue inhaler, which had been in his pack, was handed back to him. For the first time in a while, he managed to form a coherent sentence: “I need to make a phone call.”

As he was shown to the booth, his worries swerved off in a whole new direction. Dammit, he still didn’t know Robin’s number. He could try calling the hotel, see if he could get a message to her, but…

His unsteady fingers dialled the one number that’d etched itself into his heart. He knew it was gonna go to that ‘answerphone full’ message.

Shit, you are not gonna cry, Harrington, or you’re gonna be eaten alive.

“Hello, this is Suzie.”

“Oh Jesus Christ!”

“No, I’m afraid I’m not Him. This is Suzie Henderson. To whom am I speaking?”

“It’s Steve.” He swiped his knuckles across his cheekbones. “I’m, uh… um… Eddie’s friend. Is he there?”

“No, we don’t know where he is. We’re really worried.” She sure sounded less chirpy than in her message. “I thought Dusty tried to call you back. Have you heard from Eddie?”

“N-no, no. Oh my God. Oh my God, this isn’t happening, this isn’t happening.”

“You seem distressed, Steve. Can I help?”

What choice did he have? He poured out his story, including how Eddie gave him the guitar he was accused of fencing, right till the call randomly cut off.

…

In the interview room, a tired-looking cop dumped a worryingly thick file between them.

“It’s a simple question, kid. Tell us how you came into possession of Jimi Hendrix’s guitar, and we can cut you a deal. You sing sweet enough, you could skip all charges.”

Steve chewed his thumbnail, stared at the table: “I got it from a friend.”

“Listen to me. That guitar was stolen during an armed robbery at a house in Brentwood. You already got an arrest record. You don’t talk, you’re looking at some serious time behind bars.”

Steve gawked up at the interviewer, his thumb still half-caught in his mouth. He’d go to the prison for the guy he loved but…

This isn’t happening.

“Whoever you’re covering for, are they worth it? You scared they’re gonna come for you? We can put you in witness protection.”

Scared? Of Eddie? It was almost hilarious, and finally snapped Steve from his clammed-up funk. He giggled nervously.

“You think this is funny, kid? You can laugh your ass off in jail. You wanna recall your friend’s name for me now?”

“I… um…”

Eddie would want you to tell him, you idiot! He can probably help clear this mess up! There is also the teensy weensy possibility he’s skipped town, leaving you holding his seriously problematic baby…

“Look, I’m not exactly sure where he—“

The door flew wide and a young woman with fashionably frizzy hair and some serious shoulder-pad action stepped in. “Stop the interview. My name’s Nancy Wheeler. I’m Steve’s lawyer and I need a moment alone with my client.”

The interviewer looked mildly pissed then picked up his files and shuffled out.

Steve slumped back in his seat and blinked at his apparent saviour. Beneath the make-up and the power suit, she didn’t look much older than he was. She smiled tightly, pulled a chair around and sat down beside him.

“Woah, woah, woah.” Steve finally found his voice. “I don’t wanna sound ungrateful, but I can’t pay you anything."

“I’m not actually a lawyer,” she hissed, kinda apologetic. “I’m a trainee journalist. Friend of Suzie’s. She’s sort of into law as a hobby, and she’s clued me in on exactly what to say, so… sit tight, keep quiet. We’ll have you out of here in no time.”

…

Nancy did a lot of talking, and Steve eventually found himself leaving the precinct flanked by Nancy and Suzie. Suzie had brought her checkbook to pay Steve’s bail, though in the end, he hadn’t been charged.

He’d lost track of time during his ordeal, and it was past ten pm and dark outside. Before they reached the bottom of the precinct steps, a Volvo drew up, and its internal light switched on. A guy with curly hair and a ‘Vecna’s Doom Quest’ baseball cap wound down the window.

“Get in!” he yelled.

“Love you too, Dusty-bun.” Suzie headed around to the front passenger seat. 

Steve hesitated. “Uh, look, I appreciate the cavalry charge and all, but you’re, like, complete strangers.”

“Get in, Dingus!” Robin had rolled down the backseat window.

“What the heck are you doing here?” He climbed in, and she folded him into a clumsy hug. Nancy climbed in on his other side.

“Are you okay?” asked Robin.

“Jesus, what do you think? I got arrested, and.. I’m so confused.”

Robin launched her story, as Dustin drove off. When she’d discovered Steve AWOL, she’d freaked out. Then she’d called Dustin’s number, which she knew Steve had been trying all week. While garbling madly at each other, she’d learned from Dustin about Steve’s arrest. Dustin, meanwhile, gleaned that Robin had heard from co-workers that day about an incident at the hotel.

The same incident that Dustin, Suzie and Nancy had spent the last few days trying to get to the bottom of.

“What happened at the hotel?” asked Steve.

“We’re not entirely sure,” said Nancy. Steve wasn’t sure why they'd gotten a rookie journalist in tow. So much baffled him right now. “What we do know is that the police have charged Eddie with assault and battery. His disappearing act doesn’t exactly help his case.” 

“What? No way!” Steve couldn’t buy it. Eddie was one of the gentlest guys he’d ever known. Okay, there was that one time he busted his own knuckles, but…

"It's a pretty serious business," Robin was saying. "The only witness was Doreen. She swore that the so-called 'victim’”— Robin spluttered the word out like sour milk—“was blind drunk and walked into a pillar, but the police didn't buy it.”

“We’ve got to find Eddie before the cops do,” chipped in Dustin.

“Yeah, well, LAPD are the least of Eddie’s troubles,” snapped Robin. “I’m gonna gut him over this whole guitar business.”

Too fucking much.

After the rollercoaster of the past few hours, Steve felt basically punch-drunk. He groaned, rubbed his brow, then shaded his eyes from the dazzle of the streetlights. “Please just someone tell me you’ve got a clue where Eddie is.”

“It’s a work in progress,” said Suzie. “He never picked up his ride from the hotel. We’ve exhausted our leads locally, so we’re heading up to Oregon to see his uncle. Wayne won’t talk over the phone—”

“He won’t talk to us, period,” interjected Dustin. “But I think he knows something.”

“We’re going to Oregon?” Steve emerged from beneath his fingers. “Now? The cops told me to not leave town.”

“Dustin said he’d drop us home first,” said Robin. “I’d be delighted to wash my hands of Jon Bon Jovi’s evil stoner cousin for good.”

“He’s not evil.” Steve gave an enormous yawn, then zoned in on the one thing he knew for sure. “I need to find him. You go home, Robin. Fernando will scratch my eyes out if I spend another night on his couch.”

She bitched a bit more, including about how yuck and sweaty he was. Then she refused to leave him. He curled up against her—he couldn’t risk drooling on a complete stranger—and hunkered down for the long drive.

....

Part 13 on Ao3 (tumblr link coming soon!)

promise we’ll get back to Eddie in the next chapter. I needed to get a few more characters into play so we can finally get steddie on their path to healing and HEA… soon (ish!) 

Thank you for reading. Likes, reblogs and comments much appreciated and will feed the bunnies🐰💕🐰💕🐰💕🐰💕

On tumblr: Part 1 Part 2 Part 3.1 Part 3.2 Part 4.1 Part 4.2 Part 5.1 Part 5.2 Part 6.1 Part 6.2 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 or search #thefreakinthepenthouse :)

On AO3 All my ST stuff on AO3

[dredshirtroberts]

it is not slacking off to write or create it is not slacking off to do things that are fun i am not slacking off or procrastinating right now i'm allowed to do things i enjoy doing for fun including playing games and writing and such