#me telling you that you placed your order under the wrong name does not mean that you not getting it is our fault

[feelin-peachy-keen]

If you’re ever emailing with a customer service rep and you suddenly see someone CC’d, that wasn’t there before? They’re talking shit about you, and you deserve it.

[joedirtymadre]

Imma need a part 2 of bothersome🫣🥺PLEASEEE

Bothersome - Part 2

LAW X READER!! (PLEASE SEND MORE REQUESTS! PLEASE! 🙏)

You stood at the edge of the ship, watching the sunset slowly set. After Punk Hazard, you all returned back to the ship. Out to Dressrosa, to help Law with whatever he was planning. “So you’re just going to ignore me?” That deep voice called out to you. You continued staring out to the sea, hearing footsteps behind you come closer. You could sense him standing next to you, staring at you.

“What’s wrong with that? You did it to me throughout our relationship,” you said softly.

“I’m sorry, (Y/N). Please forgive me, what I did was wrong and I don’t want this affecting the allia-“ you quickly cut him off. “Why would our past affect the alliance? Did you honestly think I haven’t moved on by now?” You laughed. “I-… No I didn’t think that, but…” he trailed off. “Don’t worry, I’ll happily accept my captain’s orders… even if it means having to be in alliance with you,” you said coldly.

You turned around and headed towards the girl’s quarters. “(Y/N), I wasn’t done speaking!” He said, as he followed me. “Ok, so what else did you have to say?” You asked as you turned back to face him. “U-Uh… well you look… nice. How have you… been?” He asked awkwardly. “You really want to have a quick catch up?” You scoffed. “Well like you said we’re in an alliance now, so we should be able to have civil conversations,” he explained. You raised an eyebrow, “Traffy, weren’t you the one that tried to explain to Luffy that an alliance doesn’t mean we’re friends?” You asked.

“Not you using that dumb name too… a-and I did but-“ you cut him off. “Exactly! Thank you for remembering! Now I’ll be off to my room,” you said as you turned back and quickly entered your room before he could stop you.

You threw yourself on your bed, “Just another example of having the worst luck ever… Now I have to see and help my ex for who knows how long,” you sighed as you stared at the ceiling. “This is all so stupid and awkward!” You said to yourself as you rubbed your head. Out of all people, him?! At this point you would’ve preferred if Kidd showed up or something… And what the hell is up with him trying to have small talk with me? Does he expect me to be buddy buddy with him like nothing happened?

You quickly sat up, and shook your head. “Stop thinking about him. We’re over him, he doesn’t affect us anymore…” you said to yourself as you felt tears fall down your face. “God I’m so stupid!” You yelled.

Suddenly you heard the door open, and you quickly wiped away any tears. “(Y/N)? Are you awake?” You heard Robin call out. “Hi Robin,” you sniffled. “What’s wrong?” She asked as she sat on the edge of your bed. “It’s nothing, just some bad memories…” you said, as you avoided her eyes. “You know you can tell me, I’m your friend (Y/N),” she smiled as she placed her hand on top of mine. “I know, thanks,” you smiled softly. “I came to check on you, because I saw how upset you looked after speaking with Trafalgar,” she replied. “Yeah, I just don’t feel too comfortable around him,” you confessed. “You should tell Luffy, I’m sure he’ll under-“ you quickly cut her off. “No! No…” you repeated. “I can’t let him know! I can’t-“ you shut your mouth, afraid of your voice cracking.

“Let him get to you? I don’t understand,” she said, confused. You sat there in silence, pondering whether to tell her or not. “(Y/N), I’ll always be here for you. Do you and Trafalgar have a past history?” She asked. “Mhmm… I used to be a part of his crew, before I left…” you trailed off. “You left? Why?” She asked. “We were dating… until he shared his true feelings with me. I couldn’t stay there, not after what he said to me… So I left, while he was distracted by some Marines,” you explained, feeling a heavy weight fall off your shoulder. “Oh my,” Robin gasped. “Yep, so now we’re in an alliance with him. It’s weird, and I’ve moved on… but it sucks seeing him,” you said slowly.

“I see,” she said softly. “It’s ok, we’ll show him that you’ve grown. That no matter what he does, he can’t hurt you. Especially when you have friends here that will support you,” she smiled as he wrapped me into a hug. “You’re right!” You grinned. Your beautiful moment was quickly interrupted by your stomach growling. “Ah… I guess all this talk got me hungry,” you said sheepishly. “Let’s go get dinner,” Robin said. You nodded and the both of you quickly headed to the dining table.

You sat in between Robin and Luffy, and across from… Law. “Here you go everyone, dinner’s ready!” Sanji smiled as he sat down to eat. “Thank you,” we all said and quickly began eating. You reached forward for a rice ball, and brushed your hands against Law’s. You immediately flinched, looking up to see him staring your way.

You quickly grabbed a rice ball and pulled your arm away. You began to eat, trying to look anywhere but his direction. “Hey (Y/N)!” Said Luffy, breaking you out of your concentration. “Y-Yes?” You stuttered as you looked next to you. “Are you gonna finish your meat?” He asked, drooling. “Luffy! Leave (Y/N)’s food alone!” Sanji yelled. “It’s fine, you can have it Luffy,” you smiled as you handed him your plate.

“Thanks!” He smiled, but it quickly turned into a frown as he stared at you. “Something wrong?” You asked. “Yeah… one sec,” he said as he moved his hand to your face. Slowly wiping away at your cheek, you felt your cheeks heat up. “Sorry, you had rice on your cheek,” he laughed. “Oh, thanks,” you smiled. “Ow!” Luffy yelled, causing everyone to focus their attention on him. “Someone stepped on me!” He huffed. “Huh?” You questioned.

“You’re just imagining it,” Nami said. “Here Luffy, take my sandwich,” you said as you placed it onto his plate. “Wow!” He said, quickly changing his focus back onto his food. You slowly turned your eyes to the man in front of you. You almost fell out of your seat, once seeing the daggers that this man was staring into you.

“I-I’ll think I’ll call it an early night, night you guys,” you said as you quickly headed out of the dining room.

“Man that was tense,” you sighed as you walked towards your room. You slowly reached for the door knob, before suddenly being turned over and being pushed against the wall. You grunted as your back hit the door, you quickly opened your eyes to see that you were trapped by… Law… “T-Traffy?” You asked nervously. “So I see that you moved on, but I didn’t know you had a thing for captains,” he said coldly. “Woah… Woah… you think I moved from you onto Luffy? You’re crazy,” you laughed.

You noticed a light pink hue on his cheeks, as you continued to laugh. “Well why the blushy face when he reached for your face?” He questioned. “Well… wouldn’t anyone blush if you had food on your face and your friend took it off?” You asked. “I- Uh-“ you quickly cut him off. “Look like someone else needs to move on,” you laughed again, while slowly turning around to open the door. But was quickly turned back around, “Stop messing with me!” He yelled.

“What do you want from me? Do you still wish that I head head over heels for you, well tough shit cause you messed that up!” You yelled. You noticed that he was slightly taken aback by your response. “So what if I end up liking Luffy or whoever! That has nothing to do with you! You’re nothing to me, nothing,” you growled as you pushed him away.

“I’m not the same girl anymore, that would follow your every word. Or kiss the floor where you stepped on,” you glared. “So just leave me alone… haven’t you done enough?” You asked as you were finally able to open the door to the girls’ quarters. You quickly entered the door, ignoring Law’s calls for you. As you went to slam the door, a foot stopped it from slamming.

“Jesus Christ, you just don’t know when to leave a girl alone…” you groaned. “I’m sorry… I just want to say that I’m sorry,” he peeked through. “Ok now mov-“ he cut you off. “I’m sorry… for what I said. When you left, I realized how much I missed you- needed you… We went back to the island, but you were already gone. I don’t know what went over me, I-I missed your laughs, your smile, you interrupting me from my work, calling me honey… I know I screwed up, and seeing you now… Just reminds me of when we were still together… but I guess that’ll never be the case again,” he confessed. You stayed silent. “I’ll leave you alone, or as much as I can… I just wanted to let you know how I felt,” he said softly before removing his foot. Finally allowing you to shut the door.

You let out a deep sigh, and slowly slid down against the door. “Why do I feel like this?” You asked yourself as you clenched your hair. “What do I do now…?” You softly cried into your arms.

[mintmatcha]

cw: cisfem reader, sex work mention, slight blood mention

“You don’t belong here.”

The man jumps, surprised, then dissolves into a chuckle as he brings his drink to his lips. There's something familiar about this face, hidden under the swollen cheekbone and bruised fat lip, but you can't place where you know him from. You apparently marvel too long, as the stranger cheeks grow redder by the second.

“Is it really that obvious?”

“Um, yeah.” You gesture up and down him, “You’re stiff as a board and you tried to order food.”

The stranger scoffs into his drink, genuinely insulted for a moment before he dissolves back into his smile. There's no airs about him - a rare occurrence for the clientele here- and that knows you a bit off guard. "What’s wrong with ordering food?"

You ignore how the bartender shoots you a look when you slip into the seat beside your tall blonde and simply gesture to the place as if it explains itself- dim mood lighting, men in suits, women in dresses that barely cover anything. There's a woman on stage, perched on all fours and writhing ever so gracefully, arching her back as she slinks on the floor. Her quirk activates for a moment and her skin shimmers with a kaleidoscope of colors, a fairy under neon lights.

This place has the decency to call itself a gentleman's club. It has polished glasses and comfortable seats, but that doesn't change what it is. It's a strip club. Through and through. It's lacquered shine doesn't change anything underneath. It still reeks of malintent.

"What’s wrong with ordering food?" he repeats. He places his drink down and you take it before he can react, bringing it up to your lips with a playful grin. When he doesn't protest, instead just watching you with wide, wide eyes, you take a sip. It's strong enough to make your chest bloom with heat.

"I don't think they have food here."

"They do," he replies.

"Then you're going to pay six thousand yen for three bites of food." Your lipstick clings to the rim as you hand it back to him.

"Well," he sniffs, flinching at his own crinkled nose. It must be broken; there's flecks of dried blood lining his fulcrum. "Have you ever tried it?"

"Clearly not."

He takes a long chug from his drink and finished the glass. When he gestures for another, your lipstick has smudged on to his cheek. "Maybe it's worth the money then."

You laugh, and it's not your normal practiced giggle. It's real and loud enough that the bartender shoots you another look. He knows what you're supposed to be doing here, and it's not hanging with the slummiest man in the room. When you meet his eye, there's a bit of a silent conversation between you two.

I know, you try to tell him, Let me have my fun.

"What are you doing here?" You turn back to your current play thing. The man shrinks slightly, a sheepish smile creeping back onto his face.

"Long night," the stranger mumbles, "Needed a drink and, well-"

He looks towards the stage, where a mouse eared girl spins on her pole, dark braids the only thing covering her tits. She's short and thick in the places that make you look longer than you should

"Some pretty things to look at?" You finish for him.

He tears his eyes away and back to you. You don't miss how they flicker down, how they soften when you scooch closer.

"Does that make me a bad person?"

"I think it makes you a guy," you shrug. One of the better guys, in fact. The unashamed ones get grabby and mean; this one talks to you like he considers you a person.

"What's your name?" he asks suddenly. You debate giving him your real one for a second, but then you adjust your legs and feel the bite of your stiletto straps on your ankles.

"Star."

"I'm Taishiro."

You regard him again, soaking in all the little details about him. He's tall- insanely so. There's a fair amount of muscle on his frame and you think maybe, under those bruises, he's pretty.

"You a boxer, Tai?"

"Y-yeah. Yeah, I am," he hesitates, "How'd you know?"

"Well, your nose is broken, so you definitely fight, but you aren't a hero," you gesture to his clothes. Oversized sweatpants, and a loose long sleeve - he looks like someone that's cut weight lately. "I know all the heroes in the area, and you aren't one of them. I would have remembered your pretty face."

The stranger draws back a bit, brow scrunched with confusion, but a smile creeping across his face. He must not get compliments much. You slyly check his finger for a ring and find it empty. Good, but that doesn't mean anything. Lots of men take off their rings.

"And you aren't a bad guy or a villain. You don't have that scent to you."

He also doesn't smell like anyone else. If he slept next to someone, there'd be lingerings of them.

"Villains have a smell now?"

"To me, they do." You nap the side of your nose, "It's a quirk thing."

Your quirk sounds more useful than it is. There's a scent to bad intentions, something that lingers

He rolls his head to his shoulder and finally relaxes fully. "You can sniff out crime? Full on McGruff the Crime Dog?"

You mirror him. Ear to your shoulder, a slight grin tugged onto your lips, you say: "A dog? Are you calling me a bitch?"

The stranger blanches. His hand flies to his face so quickly that you're worried he's going to hit himself.

"Oh, geez, I didn't-"

You lean forward with a tinkle of laughter and pat his thigh. The muscle is tight and corded through the thick fabric. Messing with him is easy. Too easy. You almost feel bad for riling him up. "I'm teasing. I'm like a bloodhound."

"How does it work?" Taishiro asks, "What do I smell like?"

He smells like home cooking, with spices and herbs you can't quite place. It's homey, it's warm, it's familiar in ways you can't quite place. There's an edge in there you can't quite place, not quite sour or sweet, but just off enough that you know he's not being 100% truthful with you. You suspect his name isn't what he says, or his boxing career isn't exactly that.

You can't judge. Your name clearly isn't Star.

But, then again, he moves so earnestly that you have a hard time assuming he's bad in anyway, especially next to some of these men. One of them, an older man you unfortunately recognize, keeps looking at you. His smell is sweet in the same way rot is.

"It's a secret," you reply, "Just keep on behaving and you won't have to worry about it."

He laughs at that, big and booming enough that a couple of the girl walking around look your way, and you can't help but join it. You think, if you had met him anywhere else, if you were someone else, you'd pursue this further, let something develop between you.

But you aren't anyone else.

"Can I buy you a drink?" he asks, suddenly, and you suddenly are hit with the guilt of reality.

"I gotta be honest with you." You peel your hand from his thigh. "I don't come to strip bars for the tits, baby."

"Do- do you work here?"

"Men buy my time." He stares at you blankly and you sigh. "My companionship for the evening. And my boss is going to get mad if I don't start schmoozing paying customers."

Taishiro furrows his brow, then widens his eyes as the realization hits him.

"Oh. Oh." He swallows and nods, clearly thinking this through. Just as you start to get up, he reaches for you, wide, wide, wide hand on your hip to keep you in place. "How much?"

Something inside you sinks. You should have expected this. "I didn't think you were interested in that."

"I'm not-- I mean, I am, but not like- well-" He staggers through his thoughts, "I just want to keep talking. Really. Maybe even split my food, if you want, but I don't- not that kind of companionship- just, like, normal companion stuff."

You sniff. He still smells the the truth, for the most part. You're not sure if you pity him.

"Two hundred thousand yen for the night," you say. "Ends at sun up- no exceptions."

"Oh," he perks up, head tilted like a puppy again, "That's it?"

"What does that mean?"

"I thought it was going to be--" he pauses and shakes his head, thinking better of it, "Yeah, that's okay."

"Do you think I'm cheap?" you gape.

"No, I just--" he laughs again, clearly embarrassed. "You just look really, really, really expensive?"

Despite yourself, with a roll of your eyes, you smile too. "Nice save."

He mum les to himself, rubbing the back of his neck. Most of your clients are experienced with this life, but the new ones are always like him. Nervous. Scared. You step closer to him, trailing your fingers down his arm. You both watch your manicured nails trace loose patterns.

"You really want to spend that kind of money to just have dinner with me?"

You'd fuck him. Of course you would. You expect him to crumble under the flirtations, just like the others did.

But he surprises you when he nods.

"Yeah, I am," Taishiro says, "Is that okay?"

You shrug. "It's your night. Anything you want is okay."

The hand on your waist squeezes tighter, but it's not sexual. It's comforting, almost normal.

"I guess I'll..." he says awkwardly, "Get cash?"

"Cash is good."

-

Taishiro knows this is a bad idea.

A horrible, awful, terrible idea.

Using his real name was stupid; he's lucky you incorrectly guessed his career. If he wasn't so thin right now, you might have recognized him. He'll if he's not careful, you could figure him out anyway.

If the media gets word of this, his career would be ruined. His poor interns would never meet his eye again. The headlines flash in his mind: FATGUM CAUGHT WITH PROSTITUTE. OR ESCORT. WHAT'S THE DIFFERENCE?

Well, he's sure they'd be more creative than that.

He shakes it out of his head. This isn't about sex. He's just... lonely. So, unbearably lonely. It's just a dinner, just something to stop him from going hone and wallowing by himself again. Sure, you're the prettiest thing that's ever talked to him-

He shakes that out of his head too.

[demieyesore]

so i saw u asking for dark anakin PUHLEASEEEE help cause i’ve had an idea-

imagine anakin was so desperate to be with you that he was so toxic and got in your head that you weren’t good enough to be a jedi, because he wanted to be with you so bad, so he’d do everything he could to keep you out of the order.

and of course since he’s anakin he assumes the rules don’t apply to him in terms of the relationship rules as a jedi, but he doesn’t “want you to feel tainted.” so he convinced you to leave they order just to fuck you 💀

like yall are mid fuck and he’s just like “see, if you would’ve stayed, you would have never felt this good.” mid-thrust. and just MOCKING THE SHIT OUT OF YOU but you think he’s just so genuine and he knows best 😋

sorry! hope this was coherent lmao

- 🤠

Too Pure - Anakin Skywalker

Summary - Anakin persuades you into leaving the Jedi Temple

Warnings / Mentions - GN!reader, AFAB!reader, praise kink, pet names, purity kink but also corruption kink, mean!anakin

Word Count - 2,359

You and Anakin met when you were both Padawans. Originally you had been with another Master but due to some issues, you were switched to train under Obi-Wan.

Before Anakin met you, he complained to Obi-Wan about him taking on another Padawan. Talking about how “I’m the chosen one, shouldn’t I get the best training?” Along with other similar sentences, worrying that he wouldn’t become a Jedi Knight.

As soon as he saw you for the first time, he revoked all his previous complaints. Just begging to be around you anyway he could. If you were spending extra time on your own training, he’d be right there training with you.

If you got hurt on a mission, he’d curse under his breath as he would go to help you.

It only got worse as you developed into a better Jedi, having to take on more difficult tasks.

You both passed the Jedi Trials, becoming Jedi Knights after the battle, being deemed as ready.

Anakin slowly became more possessive and protective over you. It seemed like anything you did would be wrong. If you so much as got a scratch, he’d be at your side to defend you against whatever caused the damage to your skin.

Afterwards Anakin would patch up whatever injury you got, saying something along the lines of “You’d be dead without me.” Or “You’re always so reckless.”

You’d ask him to help you train so that it wouldn’t happen next time, wanting to always do better so it wouldn’t be a burden on him.

He’d agree to train you, knowing damn well that it wasn’t his intention to help you get better. If you so much as didn’t block an attack from him, he’d tell you that you have to try harder. And belittle you, sometimes until a tear would slip down your face.

Half of the time, you’d end up pinned underneath him. His hands holding your wrists in place as he leans in close to your face. Whispering in your ear about how you may have landed a punch or two, even manage to defend yourself against him with the training lightsabers. But that you’d never be good enough to become a Jedi Master if you couldn’t even defeat him.

You always assumed it was just his way of trying to motivate you to do better, ignoring the painful ping you would feel in your chest at his harsh words. But he was just looking out for you, wasn’t he?

You’ve always kind of had a crush on Anakin, you just always repressed it. But the more time you spent with him, the more you’d blush when he was around. And he always got a kick out of it. He’d become so amused anytime he saw the smallest reaction come out of you at something he would do.

Anakin “accidentally” brushes his hand against you while trying to move passed you, and he’d take notice of how you’d stare at him for a second too long.

Anytime he did something to show that he cared, he’d study your facial expressions.

The one time he fixed your hair because it was “bothering” him? He saw how your mouth was slightly open at the small touch, how your doe like eyes would look at him.

He started making it clear that he wanted you. Things that even oblivious little you, couldn’t miss.

Of course even when he was being clear, you overthought it, worry consuming you.

One of the times you were meditating, he joined you. You were the only two in that room and the sexual tension was so thick that it could’ve been cut with a knife.

Anakin hated waiting but he knew that he didn’t want to scare you. He had to take his plan slow enough that you wouldn’t think anything of it, even if it was agony for him to see you holding that lightsaber of yours.

Eventually, he’d kiss you. You’d be stunned but kiss back, wanting to go further. His hands would be on your waist. He’d get so excited as you placed your hands on his chest. Knowing that he had you exactly where he wanted you.

“Anakin-“ You would mumble into the kiss before he would break it.

His hands would grab yours, pulling them away from his chest.

“We can’t. The Jedi code says we can’t become attached.” He’d remind you, apologizing for the kiss. Wishing he could take it back because you’re too pure to break the code for him. You’re too much of a rule follower.

You’d think for a moment, keeping silent.

“Then let’s quit the order…” You would mumble under your breath. He’d smile down at you, happy that what he wanted was finally happening. And he didn’t even have to mention it. All his waiting paid off.

“Once we quit…we can be together���” You’d look up at him, thankful for the protection he’s given you multiple times.

“I’ve been wondering if I’d be a good Jedi Master anyways…” He hides the happiness he feels when you share the insecurity with him. Knowing that you’ll finally be safe, and you wouldn’t be breaking any rules.

You’d of course keep your word. Quitting and once you would go to see Anakin, you’d see that he hasn’t quit yet. You’d be upset and ask him why he hasn’t yet and he’d always just say, “Soon…” or “I’m the chosen one, they need me for just a little longer.” Always having some kind of excuse, and you’d always believe that they were valid reasons.

I mean if he quit being a Jedi, who would defeat the Sith?

Anakin had just gotten back from a mission. He was gone for a couple of weeks and was so excited to stop by your home. As soon as he got there, he searched for you. Desperate for your touch.

“Angel?” He says sweetly, calling out to you. You yell back a response and Anakin follows your voice. You’re in your bedroom, sitting in front of your vanity.

His eyes look you up and down, taking in your appearance. You were put together. Wearing a casual outfit but still one that made his heart ache with want.

You were busy focusing on your earring, trying to put the back piece on so you could get up and greet him. You were so excited to see him but this damn earring was being so difficult.

He swiftly took off his Jedi clothes, tossing them to the side as he walked up to you. Now shirtless with just his pants on. He’d lean down onto his knees, wrapping his arms around you. The stool you were sitting on combined with your naturally short height made it easy for him to still tower over you, even when he was on his knees.

You were messing around with the earring, about to give up with it because you wanted to turn your attention to him.

But Anakin had different plans. His head rested on your shoulder whilst his arms were wrapped around your stomach, pulling you closer to him.

He looked at you through the mirror, his eyes flicking back and forth between your eyes and down to your lips.

“Not gonna welcome me back home?” He chuckled, grinning at you. You finally got frustrated with the damned jewelry. You took it out entirely along with the earring you had already managed to put on and set it onto a jewelry dish.

You turned around on the stool, your arms enveloping him into the already existing hug.

Your arms around his neck, your legs spread on either side of his hips so he can be closer to you. His arms around your waist while on his knees, just begging for your attention.

“I’ve missed you..” Your voice would whisper in his ear, softly, almost non existent. Like you just wanted to exist in his arms and that’s it.

“I’ve missed…” Anakin started, looking for the right words.

“I don’t want to just say I’ve missed you too. I’ve missed your hands, your body, your lips, I’ve missed your soul.” He broke the hug, immediately caressing your face in adoration.

His lips collided with yours. It was rough and passionate, even desperate like he was hungry.

He pulled your legs around his waist, never breaking the kiss. You instinctively wrapped your legs around his waist. Clearly being a good idea when he stood up, taking you with him.

The now standing kiss traveled to the bed, just a few steps away. He broke away long enough to stare at you with a smile on his face.

“I fear I may corrupt you..” He admits, tossing you onto your freshly made bed. You grumbled at it but he just rolled his eyes.

He scrambled to remove his pants, watching as you pulled off your top, kicking your pants off the side of the bed.

Anakin left his boxer briefs on, when he saw you in just your underwear.

“Shy? Are we?” He mocks, crawling towards you.

You can’t make eye contact with him so he already knows he’s right.

“Oh baby…you know how many times I’ve fucked you right? How many times I’ve been in that pussy of yours?” He teases, smirking slightly when he sees you cross your legs at his comments.

“Let me take care of you, baby…” He coos. Lifting your hips to pull off your underwear. You make it easier on him, holding your hips up for him as he slips the fabric off.

“Being so good for me already…” He praises, throwing the panties onto the side of the bed.

“C’mere doll…” He lures you towards him. While Anakin absolutely adores you, and is gentle with you regularly. It’s a different story when he’s gone weeks without you. He’s craving you and needs to be fed.

As soon as you get close enough to him, he bends you over, your ass in the air as he slaps the skin. A sting making you arch your back deeper.

He steadies himself.

“I’m sorry baby…I can’t hold back, you know how I am. I haven’t seen you in forever.” He murmurs an apology, freeing his cock from his boxers.

He taps his tip against your cunt, making you jolt forward into the sheets of the bed more. He runs his tip throughout your folds, collecting the arousal, mixing it with his pre cum.

He quickly slides into you, not preparing you at all.

“An-Anakin!” You shriek at the pain of him suddenly inserting himself.

“I know, I know baby. Fuck- you’re so tight. Haven’t fucked you in so long, gotta show your pussy what belongs here…” He says in fake sympathy.

He begins to thrust, slow at first before sticking to a faster rhythm.

His only goal at the moment is to fuck you until you’re brainless. Wanting to make sure that you didn’t forget how good his cock feels inside you.

You’re moaning into the sheets, the sounds coming out muffled. Anakin wraps your hair around his hand, pulling you off the mattress as he fucks into you.

The position getting him so deep that you can’t help but choke out a whimper. The pain and pleasure too much.

“Doing so good, Angel. Taking this cock so well for me…” He praises, his hard and deep thrusts feeling hypocritical.

Anakin moans as he slams into you, the noises just falling from his mouth. You tighten around him just from hearing how vocal he is.

“Oh shit-“ He exclaims.

“Forgot how much of a whore you are when I’m vocal. You could get off on my voice alone, couldn’t you?” He scoffs, his cock pulling out before re-penetrating you. You moan out a cry of pleasure.

“Fuck Angel…you know…” He begins, his hand digging into your hip as he fucks you.

“If you would’ve stayed, you never would have felt this good.” He smiles to himself as he feels you pulse around him.

“You never would have felt how perfectly I fit inside you. Never would have orgasmed the way I make you.” You whimper in response to his words.

He lets go of your hair, instead leaning over you, his chest pressed to your back as you fall back to the mattress. His metal hand wraps around your waist, securing you to him as he keeps the pace. His flesh hand snakes up to your face, shoving two of his digits into your mouth. You lap at his fingers, coating them in your saliva.

“Come on baby, say it. Say how good I fuck you.” Anakin commands, removing his fingers from your mouth and instead grabbing you by your jaw, squishing your face to make your mouth open.

“Ah- Anak-Ani…” You mumble out.

“Awe, did I fuck you too hard baby? Are you brainless? No thoughts just because of how good I make you feel? You can speak can’t you?” He mocks, his voice sounding sad but with malice behind it.

“I would’ve nev-never felt this way-“ You moan out, tears now spilling from your eyes.

“It’s okay…I know how much you want to cum. You’ll get your release Angel. Just ask for it.” Anakin prompted, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“Ani, please, I want to cum, I’m tired-“ You whine out, feeling your legs trembling.

“Awe poor baby, so tired. I can’t say no to you can I?” He thrusts into you a couple more times, feeling you constrict around him as your orgasm hits you. The tight feeling sends him over the edge, he’s moaning in your ear as thick hot spurts of his cum flow into you.

“So good baby, so glad you left the Jedi Temple.” He mumbles as he comes down from his high, holding you to his chest as you catch your breath.

“So pure, could never have let you break the Jedi code. It would’ve tainted you, baby… and you know I’m the only one allowed to do that.”

[willixmsonswife]

blind date/leah williamson

*leah williamson x fem!reader *what happens if you are on a blind date and stood up by the person you were supposed to meet but a beautiful blonde comes to you rescue? *fluff ig? *1.3k words (1.7k with the bonus) .................................

My first blind date. I don't think I've ever been this nervous. Why did Beth even set me up? I didn't need it. I mean, yeah, I'm not dating anyone at the moment and I'm not good at flirting but did she have to make it that obvious and set me up with someone? I never met that girl and Beth didn't even want to tell me her name. How was I supposed to know who she was?

I sighed before I turned around on my bed, almost falling out of it. My hand reached for my phone, which was laying on the nightstand. In my stress, I dialed the first number that came to my mind. "Hello?" I almost threw my phone across the room. That was not my best friend. "Hello? Is someone there?" I had to answer now, right? "Hi. Eh it's y/n. We met like 2 weeks ago, on that event. I was there with Beth and Viv." I mentally facepalmed myself for calling HER out of all people. The women I've had a crush on for a year now, captain of the Lionesses, Leah Williamson. "Oh yeah y/n, I remember. What's up?" Was that my mind making things up or did her tone change when I said my name? It was probably nothing. "Actually I wanted to Beth. I must've dialed the wrong number sorry for disturbing you." I was about to hang up when I heard her say something. "No no, don't worry you didn't disturb me at all. I was pretty bored actually."

"Oh, okay." My response was followed by an awkward silence. "So what are you up to this evening?" Should I tell her about the blind date? Would she even be bothered to know about it? "I'm actually going on a date."

"Oh you're dating someone? I didn't know that."

"Surprised? Don't you think that people ask me out?" I chuckled as Leah searched for a plausible answer.

"Eh- I- No, I do. It's just-"

"Don't worry, it's just a stupid blind date Beth set me up for. Apparently I'm not capable of finding the 'true love' myself." That made Leah laugh and I couldn't help but join in. Her laugh was really infectious, I had to admit that. "Where does your mysterious date take you, if I'm allowed to know?"

"We're going to the new restaurant in town."

"Oh the Italian one? I only heard good things about it but you'll have to tell me if they're true once you come back."

"I will do that. Alright, I'm gonna have to hang up now. I have to get ready if I wanna be there at 9."

"Well have fun then. It was nice talking to you, maybe we could meet up in the near future?"

"Yeah I would love that. I'll let you know when I'm free. Bye Leah."

"Bye y/n."

That definitely went better than expected but now I really had to get going. I stood up and walked over to my closet. I picked a nice navy blue dress that I hadn't worn in a while and matching high heels. my makeup was done 20 minutes later and my hair only took 15. With enough time to spare, I decided to drive to the restaurant and wait for her there.

.................................

"Hi, I have a reservation at 9 under the name y/l/n."

"Ah yes. Please follow me."

I followed the nice women to our table and sat down. "Would you like to order something to drink while you wait?"

"Yes, just a water please."

And with that she left. I looked around the restaurant and tried to calm my nerves by concentrating on the decoration, the color of the walls, literally anything. I fidgeted with the rings on my fingers while I watched the door carefully as if I could miss her walking in. The waitress came back with my water but I just took one sip before placing it in front of me. The minutes passing felt like hours and I got more and more nervous. Multiple people walked in but they all sat at different tables. Every time I heard the door open, I looked up and hoped that it would be her but it never was. After a while, I looked on my phone and saw that it was already 9:45 pm. She wasn't coming. I felt the entire hope just disappearing with that realization. I got ditched by a person I didn't even know. I did my hair and makeup for nothing. I was excited and stressed for absolutely no reason. Disappointed by how the evening turned out, I leaned down to pick up my purse. That was when I heard a voice. "Sorry that I'm so late. The traffic was awful." I looked up to see the bluest eyes I had ever seen. Wait, I knew those eyes. And that blonde hair. And that voice. "Leah? What the hell are you doing here?" For a second I completely forgot my crush on her and stared at her like she was some alien from outer space. "I'm here to save your night."

"Elaborate please." I leaned back in my chair while she sat down on the one in front of me. "Well your date didn't come, did she?" I shook my head and another wave of disappointment hit me. "Definitely her loss. But anyway, I'm here now. I can't just let you sit at this table, all alone, that would be mean."

"You know when you said 'near future', I thought you meant next week or something but not tonight." She chuckled and I couldn't help but smile. "Yeah, I wasn't planning this either trust me. But let's see where the night brings us, shall we?"

"Alright, fine with me."

.................................

The evening was simply amazing. Leah and I talked about everything and I felt like I was on cloud nine. The food was delicious and the three hours we spent together felt like 10 minutes. She offered to pay but I didn't accept. Instead I paid for both of our meals. As we made our way out of the restaurant, our hands brushed against each other and little fireworks erupted in my whole body. We walked side by side in a comfortable silence until we reached my car. "So this is it, right?" I turned around and looked straight in Leah's eyes. Big mistake. I could feel my cheeks turning crimson red and Leah trying to hide her cheeky smile was just a confirmation that I was blushing. "I guess so." She took a deep breath. "y/n, I really really liked talking to you and all of this felt so, so-" She searched for the perfect word but I already knew it. "Natural?"

"Exactly. That's why I would love to take you out sometime in the near future. And this time I mean next week and not tomorrow night." A big smile made its way onto my face. "I would love that."

"But how about I make it up to you."

"Make what up to me?"

"You paid, so obviously I'm going to give you something back."

"Leah I really don't want your money, I-"

"Oh don't worry, I wasn't talking about money."

Before I could say something, she leaned towards me and my brain just turned off. I felt her soft lips on mine and I instantly knew that it was going to be favorite feeling of all time. I kissed her back and arms made their way around her neck. We only parted when air became a problem but my arms stayed exactly where they were. As soon as we locked eyes and I couldn't help but notice the sparkle in hers. "That was way better than any amount of money."

"I hope so cause I was planning on doing it again." We both smiled at each other and I was sure that this evening couldn't have been any better.

.................................

Bonus:

"Leah are you sure that they're gonna like me?" I anxiously looked at her and she took my hands in hers. "Princess, they're going to like you just as much as I do. I have no idea how they couldn't." She squeezed my hands reassuringly and I felt a part of the nervousness leaving my body. "Alright if you say so. Then let's go." I put a smile on my face and followed Leah into the locker room. She knocked and several women answered. "Come in!" She turned to me one last time and I just nodded, not sure if I could form actual words right now. She opened the door and we stepped inside. "Hi girls, I already told you that I wanted you to meet someone very special to me. This is y/n. My girlfriend." As soon as those words left her mouth I could feel every pair of eyes on me. "Hi, it's so nice to finally meet you." Beth walked to me and engulfed me into a big hug. "Finally! I thought you'd never show yourself here, god." I laughed and hugged her back. After that, I answered a lot of questions from everyone in the room. I also got into a nice conversation with Jen and Katie. We even agreed to meet each other for lunch the next week. All of the stress that I felt before this meeting was totally unnecessary. Everyone was incredibly welcoming and they were all so nice to talk to!

After an hour or so, Leah and I left. We still had to drive home, make dinner and watch the movie she promised me earlier that day. I intertwined our fingers as we walked to the car and started talking about her teammates nonstop until we got to her car. "You were so right, I shouldn't have worried about this. Your teammates are way nicer than you're always saying."

"Oh just wait until you get to know them a bit better. You're gonna be pranked by Katie, Lia is going to spam you with messages and-"

"I absolutely don't care. I love them."

"Well I only hope that you don't love them more than me." She grinned and I couldn't help but tease her a little bit. "Ah I don't know about that. Let's see, shall we?" I got a playful slap on my shoulder in response. "I'm joking babe. I'll always love you more, more than anyone actually."

"I love you too darling."

.................................

this is my first fic on tumblr so I'd be happy about some opinions :) also, i'm taking requests if you have some

[mostlymarvelsstuff]

Need Your Love

Authors note: Briefly breaking my hiatus for this and a Nat V-day fic 

Summary: Your Valentines Day date with Wanda gets a little more heated than intended at the restaurant due to the wandering eyes of a waitress

Warnings: jealousy, sexual content(teasing, grinding, masturbation, strap on sex, oral)

Word count: 3889     Wanda Masterlist    Marvel Masterlist    

   It had taken months of waiting, and waving Tonys black card under the restaurant manager's nose in order for you to manage to obtain a table here for Valentines day, but the smile Wanda is giving you from across the table proves that all your efforts are not in vain.

   “How did you even manage to get us in here?” she asks, looking around in wonder as a waitress sets menus down in front of you

   You chuckle, “Well, Tonys card and last name do wonders in this city.”

   “You didn’t” she asks as two empty wine glasses are then placed down as well 

   “Relax. I paid him back, as this date is well within my means. But without the Stark name attached to the reservation, we wouldn’t have been seated until 2035.”

   As you answer her your glasses are filled with a lovely red wine, the one you and Wanda had shared on your first date to be specific. It's nothing this restaurant would deem fancy, and they're probably disappointed someone booking under the name Stark hadn’t bought the most expensive wine, champagne or even a pricey bourbon, but you wanted to choose based on sentimental value not monetary value. 

   “Well then, a toast to Tony” she smiles, lifting her glass to you

   You smile back and gently clink your glass to hers, “To Tony” 

   Her smile widens as she takes her first sip and you know you made the correct choice. Unfortunately your moment is interrupted as the waitress is still present.

   “If the wine is satisfactory, I can put in an entree and another drink order if the two of you would like something else beside alcohol” the waitress asks, specifically looking at your girlfriend

   You brush off the behavior of the waitress, afterall Wanda was looking even more stunning than usual in her new dress, you’d stare too, hell you still do. And besides, maybe she was just looking at Wanda because it was apparent you were doting on her this evening and therefore what she wanted, she got.

     “Yes, the wine is perfect, thank you.” Wanda says, smiling at the woman, “Detka(baby)?”

   You smile at her, “Order anything you want baby, you know I’ll eat whatever you get”

   She quickly glances over the menu before making her decision, “I’d like the sampler platter please”

   The waitress nods, “Of course, and what three things would you like?”

   “The stuffed mushrooms, the oysters, and the crab spinach and artichoke dip please.” your girlfriend enthusiastically tells her you can’t help but smirk at her choice of shellfish.

   “Is that everything?”

   “A couple of waters for us as well please” you add while finding it a bit annoying that the woman has yet to fully acknowledge your presence

   She quickly excuses herself, heading to the kitchen to put your order in and you decided not to dwell on her apparent rudeness. 

   You take a sip of your wine, “So…oysters huh?” 

   She blushes and becomes shy under your gaze, “I uh, I just thought…”

   “Oh, I know what you thought baby” you reply, stealthily allowing your hand to brush her dress out of the way and grab ahold of her thigh under the table, “And they’ll be plenty of time to test the theory later”

  Embarrassingly, Wanda finds herself already being affected by your slightest of touches, and she does her best not to let that show. You however, see right through her, as you usually do and your smirk widens into a grin.

   “What's wrong, love? You look a little flushed” you teasingly ask with a squeeze to her leg

   She clears her throat, “It's uh, it's nothing. Just the alcohol getting to me I could really use that water.”

   As if on cue the waitress re appears with your waters and unsurprisingly looks directly at Wanda once more, “Your entree will be out in no more than five minutes”

   When she walks away your head follows her, and at first a wave of jealousy flows through Wanda, that is until she realizes you aren't checking out the woman's ass but are instead looking at her retreating form in pure offense. She has a hunch she knows what's happening and she fully intends to take advantage of the situation.

   “Something wrong, detka(baby)?” 

   “Hm? No, it's nothing.” you reply facing her once more and grabbing your wine again

   She tilts her head at you, indicating she knows there's something but she knows better than to push it once you shake your hand in a way that tells her so. It's not like she's given the opportunity to pry either as your hand inches further up her leg and though she knows no one in the restaurant can see what you're doing she blushes at your boldness

   “Y/n.” she warns, trying her best to sound stern, but she's clearly melting at your touch

    To her displeasure you actually do listen to her and move your hand to her waist as you lean closer to her. Your lips ghost along her ear as you whisper to her, “You look stunning in that dress, but I can't wait to get you home and get you out of it”

   Satisfied with yourself you lean back in your chair with a wink and watch as Wanda chews on her bottom lip, her green eyes darkening a shade. Before you can tease her anymore you waitress returns with the platter. 

    She sets it down between the two of you, passing you your plate before handing Wanda hers. Just as Wanda grabs it the waitress conveniently moves her one hand and you watch with a furrowed brow as it brushes against the ring covered hand of your girlfriend. 

   The furrow deepend when instead of saying something about her obsessed and hovering nature Wanda merely offers her a glowing smile and with her cheeks still pink from your earlier words you just know this dumb waitress thinks it's her doing.

   “Are you ready to order?” she asks feigning innocence

   “Yes, I’ll have the chorizo carbonara” you reply curtly and Wanda again must hide her knowing smile

   “And I'll have the slow roasted tomato, garlic and shrimp spaghetti” Wanda tells her

   “Oh what a lovely choice! That's one of my favorites here and may i just say the chef is incredible at making-”

“Thank you.” you grit out, still trying to sound civil as you cut her off, “I’ll let you know if we need anything else.”

   She walks off to tend another table, and you let out a huff as you're thoroughly annoyed with the woman's behavior. How dare she behave like this. Not only is it unprofessional to ogle a customer but Wanda was quite clearly your date. No one books a table at this place on Valentine's day for anyone other than a significant other. Which she is. She's your girlfriend Yours. Your thoughts are now quite loud, and Wanda does her best to hide her smirk by stuffing a mushroom into her mouth.

  She hums as she appreciate all the flavors, “These are absolutely delicious”

   You smile as you grab one for yourself, “I bet they are, but I’m more interested on your opinion on the oysters”

   Her blush returns and she grabs one of the mollusks and you watch, contently eating your stuffed mushroom as she tries it. She doesn’t grimace or gag, in fact she looks pleasantly surprised by its flavor.

   “So, how is it?”

   “Tasty” she admits, holding one out for you, “Wanna try it?”

   You stare at the slightly slimy looking thing in her hand but decide to give it a try, “Well, I don't know if it's a new favorite but it's definitely edible, and flavorful.”

   Before she can continue the conversation the waitress, much to your annoyance, returns. She has the bottle of wine in hand so you suppose you can forgive this disturbance as both your glasses are now empty. And of course she pours Wandas first, eyes lingering over her as she does so.

     “I like your necklace” the waitress rasps, and your jaw clenches as you know how low that particular chain drops

   “Thank you” Wanda giggles, clutching at the charm and you clear your throat

   “My glass is also empty” you politely state, but the glare you present the both of them with is enough to have the women straightening their postures

   Wanda decides that she's let the waitress work you up enough, and judging by the woman's thoughts as well as your own she knows that leaving the table will be favorable.  

   “Excuse me miss, could you tell me where the bathroom is?”

   “Oh, sure.” she says, pointing off to the left, “Down the hall, first door on the right is the ladies lounge”

   “I’ll be right back detka(baby)” she announces before standing to leave you alone with the annoyance, who to your displeasure is deeply enthralled by the sway of your girlfriend's hips as she walks away

   “Your meals should be out in 20 minutes…” she hardly manages to relay in her distracted state

   “Right. Great.” you say before abruptly standing and quickly following in the brunettes footsteps

   Wanda spins around as soon as she hears the door open, and a chill runs through her at your intense glare. You look around the room and quickly determine two things. Firstly, this was the largest one person bathroom you've ever seen. Secondly, the fad of bathroom lounges had not died out in fancy expensive restaurants. 

   “Y/n..”

   You quickly lock the door before storming over to her, pinning her between you and the vanity's countertop and effectively silencing her, “That bitch has been looking you up and down all night. I’m sick of it.”

   Her hands grab ahold of your biceps then, trying in vain to get you to move your grip to her hips as she's desperate for your touch by now. You make a point to not even show her that you notice this, instead tilting your head at her to show your irritation at her behavior at the table. 

    “And you” you grit out as you press your knee against her center, “Haven’t said a damn thing to her about it. Instead offering her cute little giggles and smiles.”

   She tries her best to grind down against you and you make no effort to help her. She's obviously eager to prove to you that the waitresses' affections meant nothing so who were you to stop her. 

   Your eyes darken as you watch her move and she wraps her arms around your neck in an effort to bring you even closer, “Please kiss me”

    You eye her for a moment, letting her wonder if you intend to make her beg. But you relent to her request and crash your lips into hers. Your hands finally land on her hips and she lets out a moan as you guide her movements on your thigh. To her displeasure you cut the kiss short, leaving her desperately panting to catch her breath as your mouth moves against her collarbone.

   “Detka(baby)” she whines, and you grunt in annoyance against her soft skin before pulling back to look at her, “Please touch me”

  You pull away from her almost completely, ignoring the way her eyes pleading look at you, “Touch yourself”

  “B-but..”

   You cut her off with a firm shake of your head, “We only have 15 minutes babygirl, so go on. Show me how much you need me.”

   She nods, swallowing thickly as she feels the effect your words have on her. Knowing she's unallowed to remove any clothing without your specific instructions she dutifully pulls her dress up to reveal her silky panties to you. There's a very obvious and large wet spot on them which you're quite proud to have caused. You watch her hand slip past her waistband and though this is far from the first time you've had her in a position like this, a blush still settles across her cheeks at the action.

   "That's my good girl” you praise, watching the way her face contorted in pleasure with a whimper as her fingers brush against her sensitive clit

   A moan ripples through her as she inserts them inside herself, and she finds herself slightly embarrassed by just how much of her slick is already dripping down her fingers. The sound of her arousal permeates the room and she knows you'll hold that information against her.

   “Listen to you. I hardly touched you and you're already dripping” you chuckle at her mockingly, “You're such a little slut”

   “Your slut” she whimpers, imagining your fingers inside her instead of her own

   “All mine” you confirm, bringing your lips to her neck once more

   She hisses as your teeth dig into her soft flesh but the arm that wraps around your neck tells you that she doesn't mind the pain. Your mouth continues to mark her, slowly moving further down the lowcut of her dress and therefore her chest. One of your hands suddenly cups her breast and she lets out another moan, but the contact caught her off guard enough that her fingers slow

  “Don’t you dare stop, or I’ll leave you in this bathroom just like this”

  “No, please” she whimpers as her hold on you tightens, “I need you. Need you so badly, I- ”

   She's cut off by a thrust of her own fingers but you encourage her to continue, “Go on, you what?”

   She moans again as her hips grind down onto her hand, “Need you to fuck me, please. Please detka(baby)”

   A growl leaves you, and you hungrily devour her in a kiss. She melts into your embrace, whining desperately as you finally allow her to feel what's hidden inside your pants.

   “Oh fuck…”

   “I’m going to ruin you, so you and that waitress know exactly who you belong to.” 

   Without a second of hesitation you pick her up and her legs instinctively wrap around your waist as you carry her over to the lounge's small sofa. You gracelessly plop down, causing the hand still buried in her to jolt and she lets out a cry of pleasure

   “Shh babygirl” you coo, and she buries her face in your neck as you settle on the sofa, “You can’t be too loud, ok? We don’t want anyone to hear how needy you are”

   She nods in understanding as her hands fumble with your belt and you lift your hips up just enough for her to tug them and your boxers down to your knees. Her bottom lip once again finds itself trapped between her teeth as she takes in the sight of one of your larger dildos in the harness between your legs. 

   While she's busy admiring your cock your hands move to her underwear, and in one swift motion you rip them off her body. She doesn’t have time to complain as the toy begins to enter her, stretching her open deliciously and she lets out a guttural moan.

    “Unless of course, you’d like the entire restaurant to know what a whore you are.”

    Her cheeks turn even redder at your insinuation as she continues to slide down on your cock and she leans heavily into you for support, “N-no…you're just so big”

   “Mmhm but you can handle it. Now be good and fuck yourself on my cock”

    She firmly plants her legs on the cushions beside you before doing as she's told, moving herself up and down with vigor. Your hands rest on her thighs, squeezing the plump flesh before moving further up and under her dress. They rest firmly on her hips as they rock and she wildly grabs at your dress shirt's collar, pulling you in for a very heated and messy kiss that further smears her lipstick.

   The sounds of you sucking more marks onto her mixed with her breathy moans fills the room, accompanied only by the occasional scrape or thump from the sofa as it moves and based on her erratic movements you know she's close.

      “You like that, baby?” you grunt, helping guide her hips movements 

   “Yes! You feel so good inside me!” she affirms, tightening her fists in your shirt, “I‘m gonna cum! Please can I cum?”

   “Go ahead baby, make a mess for me”

   Just like that the tightened knot inside her snaps and her juices drip and run down the toy inside her. She slumps into you, but you give her no time to relax. You quickly switch positions, slamming her into the cushions below you as you stand above her, the toy still buried inside her puffy cunt.

   Still sensitive she whimpers in protest, and gently pushes at your shoulder in an attempt to get you to pull out. Or at least to wait. You scoff at the meek attempt and give her your smug smile, “I told you, I’m gonna ruin you” 

   You grunt,  and begin thrusting wildly into her. Your one hand wraps around her throat as the other braces you against the wall above the sofa. The back of it crashes against the wall with a steady rhythm as you fuck her and you watch as her eys practically roll to the back of her head.

   “Tell me who you belong to baby”

   “You!” she gasps out, quickly nearing her second release, “I’m yours

   “That's right, now cum for again sweetheart.” you command, watching as pleasure overtakes her features once more. You continue to help her through her orgasm, only stopping when she can’t take anymore. You cup her cheek softly, caressing her cheek as you smile down at her, “Such a good girl Wanda. You did so well for me”

   She shyly smiles back, trying her best not to think about how many people just had their meals interrupted by her moans. But she's brought out of these thoughts as move away from her, slowly pulling out of her in the process.

   “I know baby, but I’ve gotta get you cleaned up so we can return to our table. Afterall, I’m sure a certain waitress is missing your presence”

    She goes to tell you to stop teasing, but all words die in her throat as she feels your tongue slide against her folds. Her hips automatically rut into you, despite being a sensitive mess still, “Detka(baby), please. Too much. I can’t”

   “Shh, don’t worry. I’m just cleaning up your mess” you assure her, though she doesn't believe you

   She whimpers and her hand latches onto the top of your head, “Fuck detka(baby)! I- I’m gonna make another if you don’t stop!”

   Your eyes bore into hers then as your mouth doubles down on its so called cleaning efforts and her thighs tremble at her upcoming orgasm. Your tongue swipes against her clit and that's all it takes to have her coming undone once more, her cum gushing into your awaiting mouth as you continue to give kitten licks. Finally after you're satisfied with the state you've gotten her in you relent and get up so you can actually clean her up.

   Once that's actually done and your girlfriend has caught her breath, she stands, pulling a clean pair of panties from her clutch before putting themm on and you make a mental note to tease her about knowing they would be needed later. You watch as she moves over to the vanity to fix her hair and makeup and beam proudly when a gasp leaves as she sees her own reflection. 

   Nearly all of her exposed chest is covered with hickies, and her neck sports quite a few of your marks too. There's no way she can hide these while here, she’ll simply have to wear them out of the bathroom with pride. Which is exactly what she does

   As you both exit the bathroom you're met with a quiet. Not the complete silence kind, there's light chatter in the distance accompanied by the soft ambient music and clanging of silverware. But it's enough to know that the tables close to the hallway as well as anyone that happened to come down this hall absolutely would have heard what was happening inside the bathroom.

   Embarrassment floods Wanda, and she quickly grabs ahold of your hand to anchor her as you lead her back to your table. She keeps her eyes glued to the floor, trying her best to avoid others' gazes even though she can still feel them burning into her. It doesn't take a genius to know she's uncomfortable and thankfully as her girlfriend you know how to fix it. 

       As soon as you return to your table you sit down, but as Wanda goes to do the same you tug her closer to you by your still conjoined hands, “Where are you going?”

   “My seat?” she replies in a confused whisper, pointing to the other chair

   “Nuh uh” you reply, smiling as you pint to your lap, “Your seats right here”

   “Y/n!” she whispers scoldingly, missing how you meant it as a way to offer her comfort with your closeness

   “It's ok, Wans. Sit and let me hold you. No one will say anything” It only takes her a few seconds to relent, and to both of you are relieved as she relaxes against you, letting your hand on her lower back soothe her

   Only a few minutes pass before you see the waitress bringing a tray over to your table. She's far too focused on not tripping or bumping into anyone to notice anything amiss but as soon as she stops walking her eyes nearly fall out of her head.

   Her gaze takes in every mark that stands out against your girlfriends pale complexion, but she quickly tears her eyes away as she hears you clear your throat and sees your proud smirk.

   “I uh…h-here's your food” she nervously stutters, placing your plate down in front of you but stalling when it came to placing Wanda's anywhere

   You silently slide your plate to the side and point to the open space, which earns you a thankful hand squeeze from the woman on your lap. The waitress nods, much too quickly to be comfortable and sets Wanda's plate down next to yours.

   “W- will there be anything else?” 

   “No thanks, I've already had my dessert.” you reply with a cheeky smile, “My girlfriend could use some more wine though.”

   As the waitress scurries off the aforementioned girlfriend turns too look at you, “Really?”

   “What? She asked!” you defend, “And besides, she had to hear me say you were mine.”

   “I think your marks spoke for themselves detka(baby)”

   “Well, now she absolutely certain” you reply, leaning forward to take a sip of wine from your own almost empty cup

   Wanda takes the opportunity to kiss your cheek, leaving behind a perfect imprint of her lips, “Fine. Then that makes sure its known that your mine”

   You can’t help but smile as she turns, immediately digging into her meal like a woman starved, which she probably was after what you had put her through moments ago. You gently wrap your arms around her waist and lean into her, kissing her cheek softly, “All yours my love. Now dig in and enjoy. We've got a whole meal to enjoy and a waitress to antagonize”

Taglist: @wandaromamoff69​​ @mmmmokdok @nataliasknife​​ @natashasilverfox​​ @when-wolves-howl​​ @danveration​​ @naomi-m3ndez​​ @sheneonromanoff​​ @sayah13 @likefirenrain​​ @nighttime-dreaming​​ @just-a-torn-up-masterpiece​​ @chaoticevilbakugo​​ @crystalstark02​​ @wackymcstupid @xchaiix​​ @iaminluvwithnat​​ @lovelyy-moonlight​​ @mistressofinsomnia @that-one-gay-mosquito​​ @yomamagf​​ @yourfavdummy​​ @justarandomreaderxoxo​​ @babygirlscout​​ @whoischanelle15 @lissaaaa145​​ @eline03 @wizardofstories​​ @imthenatynat​​ @marvelonmymind​​ @fluffyblanketgecko​​ @bitch-616 @dakotastormm​​ @zoomdeathknight​ @rayeofmoonlight​

[sunwarmed-ash]

The Eden Club-Deleted Scene

So remember when I said the plot of The Eden Club changed 12 times?

Well it did, haha and I had to delete whole scenes I don't think will end up back in the story. So I decided y'all get the deleted scenes just for following me :3 here's one of them 😈

Tags: Convin, sex worker Connor post revolution, enemies to lovers to friends, bdsm elements, Dom Connor, Sub Gavin

The Eden Club-Convin deleted scene

“Please sir…” Gavin begs, he’s been on edge for hours, and his cock aches under the hard toe of Connor’s shoe. 

“No,” the android growls, and Gavin whines knowing it means he has to wait longer until he can get what he wants. 

“No?” he repeats, begging for guidance, “Please- Sir, tell me, tell me what you want…”

“Don't call me that.”

Gavin feels like he's losing his mind. His core is throbbing, begging, screaming for release. He hasn't been broken like this in so long his body has been crying out for it. And he’s close, so close, to getting it, he’s just not there yet. But he wants to be, he wants more than anything to be good. To follow instructions and be rewarded for it. He takes an unsteady breath, keeping his head lowered as he asks, 

“What do you want me to call you?”

Connor presses the rubbered end of the flogger under Gavin’s chin, helping him look up slowly until their eyes met. Gavin is frozen there, held in place by piercing, ordering eyes. His cock throbs again underfoot. 

“I want you to call me by my name.”

Gavin’s shoulders lower and he shudders, eyes slamming closed in submission as pleasure plummets through his body and his cock twitches hard under rough plastic. 

“Connor please, please, let me cum.”  

Connor hums, pleased in his throat and Gavin feels a tension in his chest he didn't know he was holding loosen. 

Connor was proud, he did good. 

“You don't deserve it,” Connor teases, but his voice is light when he says it. 

Gavin agrees. 

“I know.” 

“Are you sorry?” He asks, and Gavin’s never been more sorry for anything in his entire life. 

“Sorry it doesn't fix it…” he says, because sorry hasn’t ever fixed anything for him. Not really. 

“It does for me, so i'd appreciate it if you changed your attitude. If you want to cum still that is. If you’ve changed your mind though-” 

“NO!” Gavin’s eyes snap up to meet Connor’s, searching his for something, some hint he was lying, just waiting for the moment for Gavin to show his belly before he struck. But Gavin didn't find any of that there. Instead he found what might even be the stupid fucking android equivalent of a soul in those suddenly innocent looking eyes. 

Tears are blurring his vision before he can look another moment, and the words are spilling out of his mouth on instinct. “Connor, I'm so phcking sorry.”

He watches how the comment effects the android, how it bleeds into every circuit and brings a stupidly pleased smile to his face that is 100% Connor and not the killing machine Cyberlife intended him to be. 

“Thank you Gavin. I'm going to let you cum now, do you know why?”

He looks back at the android with watery eyes, 

“No, actually... You just said I don't deserve it…”

“You didn’t, originally. But I’ve changed my mind based on your good behavior. So answer me, sweetheart, why am I going to let you cum?” 

The soft pet name after such a long, degrading, painful session has his emotions welling up at the surface and spilling over. He knows he's going to need a good fucking cry after this. Like a break down and ugly cry kind of cry. The android has somehow managed to tap into a space Gavin didn't even know he was letting him access until now. 

“I don’t know…”

“Yes you do baby.”

Connor’s hand replaces the flogger under his chin and Gavin sniffles. 

“Because you are merciful?”

Connor smiles, pride radiating out of every synthetic pore. 

“Yes, I am. And why is that Gavin?” 

Breath hitches, tears streaming, hips aching against Connors shoe. He doesn’t know. He doesn't want to be wrong…

“Because I am proud of you.” Connor finishes before finally, finally removing his foot. The sound that tears its way free of Gavin’s throat is nothing short of feral. His orgasm takes over his entire body, his hips hump automatically into frictionless air, chasing pleasure as it shoots out his tip and coats his chest, neck, stomach, cock, and the floor. 

Connor could watch this on repeat forever, it invoked the same low burning stimulation that watching his first porn star did so many weeks ago. Gavin is completely overwhelmed with pleasure, an experience that seems rare in humans. He’s absolutely breathtaking to behold. He his body stops twitching, he tells Gavin that. 

“Shut the fuck up,” Gavin pants, chest still panting through the after shocks.

“What was that babe?” Connor teased, with just a hint of his previous Dom tone that he’s now learning Gavin responds to after sex as well.  

“I’m not beautiful.” he mutters, pushing his hair out of his eyes.  

“You are, And you can't see what I’m seeing so you don't speak for me. You’re absolutely gorgeous. I wish I could preserve the moment of your climax forever.”

Gavin’s face flushes bright red. 

“Can’t you already do that?”

“Yes.”

Gavin rolls his eyes.

“Yeah, yeah.”

“I wouldn’t lie to you Gavin.”

Yes he would, everyone always lies to you. No one wants you anymore Gavin. Why do you think you’re here?

Gavin shakes his head before the bad thoughts can get their hooks into his frontal lobe. 

“What the hell are you even talking about, yes you would, you have! And besides you don't need to blow smoke up my ass, we both already got off.”

“I’m not blowing smoke up your ass, I was simply attempting to transition into aftercare.”

That makes Gavin laugh. 

“Aftercare? What did Kamski make you read 50 Shades Of Grey?”

Connor took a minute to respond as he was probably googling what 50 shades of grey was, Gavin used the time to begin to locate his clothes. Oh, well after he got the feeling in his legs back. 

“No, I don't believe 50 shades of grey does a good enough job of describing BDSM elements and relationships as a whole. Nor does it show healthy examples of consent. While there are ‘contracts and labels’ in common, you are free to leave at any point. I would even give you your money back if you wanted. If you’re not enjoying something, I would expect you to tell me, and the same applies to me.” 

Gavin turns around and looks at Connor. Really looks at him. For a long fucking time. 

“Who the phck are you?”  

Connor smirks.  

“Detective Reed, My name is Connor, I’m an RK800 android prototype attempting to pass for human. How am I doing?”

“Frighteningly well.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment. Perhaps I can I get you that coffee now?”

“T-The coffee from 10 months ago??”

“11 months, two weeks, and 5 days. But, yes Detective, that one” Connor sasses.

Gavin hates the visible shiver it causes him. 

“Fine, phck it, sure, there a phcking food menu too?”

“Actually, yes.”

“Shit, this place really did get better…”

Connor is quiet for half a beat, before asking, 

“So you have been here before?”

“What? Yeah, of course I’ve been here, I'm human aren’t I?”

Connor pulls up the menu screen and adds Gavin’s coffee before opening the folder for food. 

“The first time you came here, and stayed with me, specifically, I asked you if you’ve had sex with an android, you said no.”

Gavin ignores him for the menu, which was over 30 pages long. What did they merge with Cheesecake factory?

“That wasn’t the question you asked.”

“Why are you deflecting Detective?”

Gavin’s eyes glance up from the menu screen, eyes narrowing suspiciously. He felt like he was being interrogated, but lightly? Almost like he was being teased, but also the man was genuinely curious. Fine, time to see how good his skills were. 

“I’m not deleflecting, it's not the same question!” He chuckles, adding a cheeseburger with all of the fixings, fries, and a chocolate milkshake.

Connor eyes the total calorie count worryingly before deciding to just allow it. 

“So, you haven’t had sex with an android?”

“Nope, just you. Lap dances don't count as sex.”

Connor flushes all the way up to his artificial hairline. 

“Oh. I see,” Connor chuckles, understanding the loophole now. 

“You're more than that, by the way.”

Connor looks at Gavin perplexed, attempting to understand what he could be referring to. 

“More than what?”

“Just an android. I mean, I don't think you shutting down on me would have freaked me out as much as it did, if I, didn’t believe I killed something. That there was something in there to kill. I know I’m an ass, but I’m not stupid. t’s not beyond my belief that technology finally got smart enough to create a perfect, indistinguishable, soulless mimic. But that's not what you are.”

Gavin can feel Connor's eyes on him, burning through his skin all the way down to his nerves. Not actually, but when he felt already scrubbed raw, Connor might as well have heat vision. He continues talking to distract from it. 

“Before the revolution, before, all of you woke up, or whatever, the androids, here especially, were different. Way different than you, and I felt that way before you deviated. You’ve always had, I don't know, something in there. Something deviant. I mean, you mouthed off to me on your first day! I’ve never had an android talk back to me, freaked me the phck out. Thought I was actually gonna get shot in the break room.”

Connor laughs at that. 

“I wouldn't have shot you. I didn't have a gun.”

Gavin finally shot him a look, and Connor’s stupid, pleased as shit fucking smile made his heart clench. Goddamn post sex hormones. Always turned him into a sap. 

“The new you is still a lot like the old you. Sassy and cocky as shit. But I can also clearly see Anderson’s bad influences mixed in there too.”

“Mm, yes, I have grown fond of the word ‘fuck,’ and sex.”

Gavin snorts. 

“Yeah babe, I know.” 

There was something else Gavin needs to say, and if he doesn't do it now, it might stay inside for another year. After everything Connor’s done for him, he deserves to know. “Hey, Connor?”

When Connor’s huge expressive eyes are on him his heart clenches. He needs to push through this. Connor’s worth it. “I was wrong. Before. You are alive, and I was pretty phcking stupid to think otherwise. So, I’m sorry about that. About how I treated you. All of it. Really.”

When Connor doesn’t immediately say anything, Gavin instantly worries he fucked up, again. Despite trying to do everything right. When he takes a closer look, he realizes he’s just been shocked silent. His mouth actually drops open after the out of character apology. At least until Gavin glares at it. He didn't like feeling mocked. 

Connor snaps his lips closed and his cheeks flushed pink. Connor was obviously thinking several things at once trying to figure out which is the right to ask first. It was making Gavin edgy to wait. 

“Will you just ask me whatever you’re frying your breadboard over-analyzing?”

Connor’s face scrunches together adorably, and Gavin hates how stupid hooked he was on Connor already. 

“Would, you consider dating me? Officially?”

Gavin obviously didn't expect that question because now his mouth drops open. Unfortunately for him that freed his tongue, which answers without his brain or hearts consent. 

“You, want to date me? Like more than just hook up?”

Connor nods immediately, pink still dusting his cheeks. 

It wasn't a good sign that he actually missed the blue right? That feels like a four-letter-word red flag warning. 

“Yes, and that's not my social relationships program speaking. I swear.”

Gavin looks at Connor for a moment before saying, 

“Yeah, I believe you.”

Connor closes the distance within a fraction of a second but once he was just a breath away, he took his time, looking Gavin in the eye and making his heart sputter and choke weakly like a winter-frozen engine. 

“You mean it,” Connor says finally, and Gavin bites his tongue before it can answer on reflex again. 

Instead he nods, and then Connor’s lips are on his, hard and bruising in a way that took his breath away. He hasn’t felt this plummeted by a kiss since his first kiss with Hank in 2029. He hates what this means for him, but he can’t get himself to pull away. 

Connor kisses differently than Hank, differently than random hook ups he meets at bars, than most people Gavin’s been with because Connor’s curious, genuine, and deliberate. Probably taking fucking notes in that big brain of his, studying him, studying how his body responds to each press and brush of lips. No one’s ever bothered to pay this much attention to him before and Gavin’s overwhelmed by how it makes him feel. Connor tastes like clean silicone, but he feels so much softer than that. Different enough from human skin for him to notice but not enough for him to want to stop.

They are startled apart by Gavin’s arrival of food and the older man actually growls out his disappointment. It causes the sweetest chuckle out of Connor.

“We can always kiss after. We can stay in here as long as you want.”

“Yeah, like I can afford to spend more than I’ve already spent here this week,” Gavin scoffs playfully, but in reality he was hiding his profuse disappointment. 

“I’m sorry for the ambiguity, I meant on the house. I take breaks between clients all the time.”

“Whoa, what? Seriously?”

Connor nods before pointing to his rapidly cooling meal. 

“Eat your food, and then you can ask me more questions.”

Gavin flushes, temporarily forgetting about his food for the conversation but now suddenly starving. 

After he ate three bites Connor continues. “I make my own schedule, Elijah doesn't take a cut of my tips. I can work the floor or in here whenever I want.”

“Sounds too good to be true, sure he's not playing you?”

Connor shrugs. 

“Not entirely, but so far he’s kept things professional, more or less.”

Gavin didn't like the way that statement made his skin feel. Or the way the name struck a familiar, unwelcome cord in both his heart, and his gut. 

“What's more or less?” He didn't really want to press, but he felt a duty to Connor, Hank, and his job to push. 

Connor appreciates his concern. 

“Everything has been mutually consensual Detective, he’s running a clean operation, in legal terms at least. Though I doubt this place would pass a health inspection.”

Gavin unfortunatly agreed with that statement. 

“Alright, well, good. You make sure to let us know if that changes. Hate to learn our ‘isolated incident’ was a pattern in front of our faces all along.”

“I’m very lucky to have two strong officers to protect me.”

Gavin barks his laughter, but it sounds genuine and not forced.

[gaykamenriderdreams]

Ok so like. Everyone and their grandmother who watches Gotchard knows that Kurogane Spanner thinks Chemies are "just tools". Like, he just straight up says it, here it is, badda bing

But like. And hear me out on this one. I think this is more complicated than just "oh the rival character is a bastard who thinks puppies don't have feelings and therefore it's okay to go around kicking them all day"

Because I think Spanner thinks of himself as "just a tool" too.

(I am physically incapable of writing a post that doesn't get long so the rest of this is going under the cut. Spoilers up to episode 14)

I mean, just from a design standpoint, the guy has a wrench for a face half the time. There's definitely something to be said for Valvarad's mask being representative of how Spanner presents himself, or even thinks about himself (especially since Spanner created the Valvarad suit single-handedly, apparently????)

Also just like. The guy's first name. Is freaking Spanner.

Like, one of these??? And that's just his name???

Like I mean a bit on the nose but alright. Also, if he picked that name himself (and with a name like that, it seems likely). What motivated that. I simply must know.

(Diversity win! Local Trans Man absolutely hated by Every Area Teen because he's just such a bastard at all times!)

Also, for all his talk about Chemies being tools, he really doesn't treat them poorly. Like he DOES say that he really doesn't care about collecting them, he's just doing his job (performing his function, you could say)--

But like, this is also the same guy that has three Vehicle Chemies that are just his that he does not like being apart from even for less than two minutes

Like we all done been knew that Sabimaru has a special interest in Occult-type Chemies, you can just SAY you're only interested in Vehicle Chemies.

Or he could just, y'know. Have three Chemies that he really cares about and be content with that. Like those pokemon NPCs with six Magikarp and no interest in getting anything else.

And it's extra odd because we've been told that higher number Chemies are just plain stronger than the others (at least when used by regular alchemists for combat), but none of Spanner's Chemies are level 9. And he doesn't need to use number combos like Ichinose does- so why doesn't he just have three 9s and call it a day? Even IF Valvarad only works with Vehicle Chemies, why doesn't he have Golddash and Steamliner (7 and 9) instead of Gekiocopter and Madwheel (4 and 6)? We just don't know. But it could be because he cares about His Three Chemies Specifically, as much as he verbally denies it.

And another thing. Even when things go wrong, he doesn't take it out on his Chemies!

When Gekiocopter hits their altitude limit and can't take Valvarad any higher, he doesn't express any frustration towards his Chemy. I feel like if he really hated Chemies in general, he'd get mad at Gekiocopter and replace them with a higher-flying Chemy as soon as possible. But he doesn't.

Sure, Gekiocopter is "a tool"... but you don't get angry at a tool for asking it to perform past its specs. It's your fault in the first place for not respecting its limitations when you chose to use it. All the pressure and vitriol in the world won't suddenly make the impossible possible. (I wonder, is this empathy? An understanding of what it's like to be pressed to the breaking point? From one alchemist's tool to another? Surely not.)

And with episode 14 hinting that some things previously assumed to be part of his personality may be "just following orders..." And with how useless he's got to be feeling, losing over and over again despite having spent so much time and effort forging himself into a weapon for the alchemists to use as they see fit... aghhhhh I'm soooo curious where they're going with all this. THERE'S POTENTIAL.

Anyway. All this is not to get anyone to like the guy (though as you can tell, I'm a big fan). I just really wanted to express my thoughts about how there could be more than just "generic jerk" going on under the hood for this car crash of a human being.

TLDR: Kurogane Spanner is a massive tool (derogatory) (complimentary)

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Omg I got an Idea, Can I have some headcanons for a human! reader criticizing patriarchy! ken's ways and how their kind of fucked up? (Also I need them explaining that they're basically saying house house in the Mojo Dojo Casa House name lol,)

- Kneecaps anon

Ghgjjd okay so I know Sasha and Gloria already informed him of that in the movie, but this prompt was funny to me

.....

At first you were reluctant to follow this random guy named Ken to "Barbieland" after he asked you a billion questions about horses and patriarchy.

He insisted on showing you how the Kens were treated, convinced that once you understood everything you'll sympathize with them more.

In the end, you went with him out of genuine curiosity, finding out that this supposedly imaginary pink utopia was, in fact, not-so-imaginary as you transverse the different landscapes together.

Although at one point you had to man the 2D speedboat as he got seasick.

When you both arrive, Ken goes on to tell everybody what he learned while you get lost exploring Barbieland.

You didn't think he'd take your jokes about the patriarchal structure of human society seriously..

But he clings to them as facts and radically transforms the doll world, and within hours it becomes Kendom Land.

You don't know how it all happened so fast, though you got irritated quickly over what he's done to the place you were just starting to admire.

Especially when he takes on a macho persona and dons that silly fur coat, before stealing Barbie's dreamhouse and reintroducing it to you as his "Mojo Dojo Casa House".

Something about that definitely irked you.

"You know "casa" is just Spanish for house, right?"

"Yeah, duh." He rolls his eyes.

"But you're already saying "house" anyways."

"...and your point?"

"My point is that you're pretty much saying "mojo dojo house house"."

"No I'm not. Because it's Mojo Dojo Casa House." He pouts, before asking a nearby Barbie to "brewski beer" him (to which you tell her "do NOT" and shoo her away).

You quickly remember you're arguing with a children's toy....so he was definitely going to be stubborn like a child and you'll just have to put up with it for now.

Ken couldn't brainwash a human, although he's still gonna argue with you and have petty temper tantrums whenever you keep criticizing the way he's running things.

"I'm just saying, this is NOT how men act in Century City at all.." You try explaining as he pouts, sorting through his western and denim outfits. "You just took whatever ideals you liked about them, dialed them up to 11, and forced them onto everyone here."

"Forced?? Take a look around, [y/n]--the Kens are happy! We embraced those ideals because we never got to have ANY of these cool things under the Barbies! If not for the multitude of...limitations in the Real World, I could've been the next president of California-"

"Don't you mean United States?"

"...no, I mean your country of California."

"......you seriously think California is a country? It's a state."

He does a double-take. "It is...? I thought Los Angeles was the state.."

'Oh for crying out-'

You realize the dolls had seriously misconstrued ideas about the Real World if they got the basic geography of it wrong.

But you're not gonna sit here and school him on everything. That wasn't your job and you do have your own life to get back to, anyways.

So you just...leave Kendom in the reverse order you arrived.

You'll let him live out his fantasy, but didn't want any part of it.

Especially upon seeing a group of construction worker Kens building a brick wall up and not sideways.

[azurlily]

OMG I loved the hange one u wrote Tysm for that your writing is so pretty can I have a a similar one but with a house pet reader and Sachiko Juraku -🐢

Omfg!!! Yessss!!! Also so happy to see you twice today 🐢!(A reminder to everyone, dont repost or reblog without redit!)

Dating Sachiko Juraku as a Housepet

Oh you poor thing. How the hell did you get yourself in this situation??

You gambled yourself into this predicament, you thought you were good enough to fight a big dog.

How wrong you were

Sachiko Juraku, she saw you first when a bunch of guys were getting a bit too touchy. She watched for a few minutes before intervening.

"Why, hello there boys, if you dont mind, I'll be taking this pretty thing with me!"

She'll take you to a private, and unused classroom and look at you for a bit. She's never been this interested in someone before.

You became her little enigma. She stared at you some more, keeping her tight grip she pulled you closer. It was official. In her mind at least.

You became her new toy(soon to be girlfriend).

She started taking you with her everywhere. When she gambled, when she was doing council work, she's even taken you home.

Now, of course when you two officially start dating she acts differently. She treats you with more respect, and is nicer.

Don't forget your place though. She could have gotten rid of your debt, but she hasn't and she wont.

Why? You might ask. Well it's simple.

If you were to ever decide you didn't want the relationship, she could easily hold your debt over you. Use it.

She'll make a life plan for you to put it plainly.

She knows it wrong but she doesn't care. You're hers and she intends to keep it that way.

It doesn't really matter if you're a house pet or not, but she's protective as hell. As well as possessive. She owns you.

Mind. Body. Soul.

All of it, it's all hers, all of you is hers. She just loves you so damn much.

She definitely spoils you, 100% a sugar mommy once you two have an established relationship.

You want it? She's got it. You two are out on a lavish date and you see a pretty necklace, or a cute dress, maybe some nice shoes. Just say the word and it's yours. All of it.

Sachiko hates it when you have to leave. Wether it's for class or something else. It doesn't matter. She needs you by her side and she hates seeing you go.

Very touchy, she sees you as her property(especially when you're a house pet). She needs everyone to know you've been claimed.

She buys you a set of bracelets that have her first and last name on them. If her little pet gets lost she can always find you.(the cuffs have a tracking device in them)

If you didn't like her at first, it doesn't matter. You'll learn to love her(she kinda a yandere in general) you have to. She loves you and expects love, affection, and adoration.

She of course gives you all these things. In her own way.

When you two fight she usually waits it out. Even if she knows it's her fault she wont admit it. She'll wait for you to come crawling back.

After all without her protection who is going to save you from all the big, bad, mean men in the school. She might even order a few to bug you.

That's all she'll tell them to do though. Just bug you, if they dare do more...she'll kill them.

When you come crawling back she apologizes, in her own way. She buys you whatever you want. She usually does this but for about the next two to three weeks after your fight she's buying you things more than usual.

She'll even just give you straight cash if you want. You've learned this is her way of apologizing without having to be verbal.

You're her pet and even if you two fight she knows(as do you) you'll come back.

NSFW UNDER THE CUT

Oh... oh no. Just no. You are going to be in so much pain. I feel so bad for you, she's going to fuck you til you're raw.

Rough dom, she's hard, fast, and makes sure it hurts. She loves seeing you cry in pain, it brings her more pleasure than you'll ever know.

She'll bend you over any surface if she's horny enough. Her desk, a random surface in her house, a desk in an unused classroom. Anywhere.

Kinkyiest bitch you'll ever meet. She loves the strap specifically. She loves having you warm it, suck it, honestly she just loves destroying any hole she can get to.

Some days she's feeling more feral, she wants you raw. No toys, no lube, fucking nothing. She wants to naked with your legs spread out, ready for her and her alone.

Other days she feels the need to fuck you til you pass out. Those are the days when student council business isn't going as well as it should be.

She makes it hurt, she's quite the sadist after all.

She has a few special collars with different things ingrained in them. One says Mistresses Slut in a beautiful font. Another says GOOD GIRL in bold, glittery pink letters.

She even has one that says Property of Sachiko Juraku(theres a little tag that says how to return you to her) she loves the idea that her little pet is also her pet in the bedroom.

You want her? Beg, you dumb bitch. That's all you are, a dumb little bitch. You're useless for anything that doesn't involve getting your brains fucked out.

You need her, dont you? You need her strap, her fingers, ever her shoes to rut against like the slut you are.

Sachiko loves propping you up in front of the mirror, making you watch as she sluts you out. Making you watch as she turns that pretty brain of yours into rot.

That's all it needs to be anyway. Rot. It's not like you actually need your brain. You're her dumb bitch, her beautiful little pet that sits so prettily on her lap.

You know it, she knows it too. All you have to do is beg and she'll turn you into the good pet she knows you can be.

Shes just so rough with you and sometimes you need her to be gentle! You need slow and gentle!

She can and will provide that. Grant it you will make it up to her later.

She'll take you nice and slow with her strap, making sure it's deep. She start with slow thrusts getting faster,(and a bit rougher) but never getting past a certain point.

She spreads you out and talks you through it. These are one of your few real intimate moments. She wont do this until you're her official partner. Heavens no! She wouldn't be caught dead treating a house pet like this...

Unless you're her house pet! When you start officially dating and you work up the courage to ask her about this, she's more than willing.

Now as for aftercare, when you're just her house pet it was short and sweet. She cleaned you up a bit with a few reassuring words and then kicked you out.

It hurt, but when you start dating it's a whole new story.

She's so sweet, she cleans you up, gets you food, and turns on television for you.

You started keeping extra clothes in her office and her house in case it was too much and you needed to stay longer than intended.

She loves you, even if she don't act it, you're hers. Her plaything, her slut, her pet, her lover, her beautiful little thing. You're hers and that is something that throughout your entire relationship she will remind you of.

[sui-imi]

[OLD Q&A] Roo answers some stuff

Hello! A month or so ago, I had Roo answer some questions on twitter. I decided that it'd also be good to archive most of them here, so you guys can learn a bit more :] (some of it is kind of important?? i think... haha)

Click here to read the original tweet and all responses.

NOTE: answers are in character! Therefore, all questions below were answered by Roo! (undereats!sans)

Qs & As under readmore! (warning: long post)

[names listed below are twitter users' URL.]

[Q from LazeroFox] Is there any place that you can’t really go? Like an au that’s destroyed-

[ROO] depends. if you know an AU's coordinates, the bike can create a portal for you. and when we receive orders, the customer's details are automatically sent to our phones.

[ROO] but if an AU's destroyed, it'll either send you to the void, or it won't create a portal at all.

---

[Q from mmm99tunas] Does Roo ever get a break? What does he spend his hard-earned Gs on? (aside from gallons of BBC sauce)

[ROO] oh yeah. i get loads of nap time inbetween rounds. just punch in some random cords, hide somewhere and snooze a bit. it's the easy life.

[ROO] (though technically that's not allowed so don't tell my boss)

[ROO] as for my G, usually i spend it at grillby's 2. it's hella good.

---

[Q from Malina_Vivvivu] Is there a place Roo hates delivering at :∆?

[ROO] hah... haha... hahaha....

[ROO] the doodlesphere, for one. and those evil sanses. i feel like i age 10 years everytime they're on my delivery list.

[ROO] why are they so violent?? they're the ones who ordered the food???

[M] They like playing before eating ((:

[ROO] is it playing or bullying??? i swear, it's like they only start when i arrive...

---

[Q from bl4ck_st4rs] What do you do if you mess up someone’s order? (pick up the wrong one or spill/drop it)

[ROO] woah now. i would never mess up a valued customer's order like that. who do you take me for?

[ROO] but if i did...

[ROO] you just gotta grovel. make 'em think you're gonna die if they don't forgive you. not that i'd ever mess up.

[* He looks shifty eyed.]

---

[Q from sweetnad_uwu] Hi Roo! The traveling moped u have, the only way anyone can get one is if they work to the same company you do? Or is there any other way to get it?

[ROO] hiya. and yep. gotta be a UE driver for the magic bike.

[ROO] the boss is REAL good at keeping track of 'em. they've never left a bike unaccounted for, and they always know when i "accidentally" break mine.

[ROO] feels like they're all-seeing or something. freaks me out.

---

[Q from AnnoyingFox20] dear roo,if you met an actual a person that charming and wise,nice,so caring do you consider to be your bf in your life? 😏😏😏

[ROO] sorry pal. spot's taken.

[* He's fiddling with a bottle.]

[ROO] his name's arbiter. he's real chill, owns the condiment hall. sells the best bbq sauce in the multiverse.

[* It seems he's mistaken 'bf' for 'bbq finder'...]

---

[Q from ZippyDoZane] Zane: Do you deliver to far off kingdoms? Also eh heh heh if you do could you stay for a bit? I got board games that we can play. The king will give you a big tip if you do eh heh heh.

[ROO] "UnderEats - if you can order it, we can deliver it!"

[ROO] ...that's not actually the slogan. it's actually...

[ROO] "UnderEats - tip the drivers, and they'll be your best buds!"

[ROO] ... so what time should i come over?

---

[Q from jasper2450] Have the bad guys ever wrecked your motorcycle?

[ROO] (cough) er... technically THEY didn't wreck it. but if they force me to use it, it's kind of their fault right??

[ROO] i mean, i always tell them, "don't make me use my special attack". and what do they do? they make me use it.

[ROO] so yes. it's their fault.

---

[Q from KaylaTSkeleton] is there anywhere roo likes delivering to?

[ROO] any AU where i can deliver food without being put in a whacky situation is good enough for me.

[ROO] i'm fond of underswap right now. swap papyrus is a real pain in the coccyx, but if i snitch to blue, it always pisses him off. hehehehe.

[ROO] plus they always tip well.

---

[Q from zeni_zetty] have you ever get Chase by simp???...

[ROO] huh? who? (what's a simp???)

[ROO] i mean, i HAVE been chased before. but i don't remember anyone specifically, except those bad sanses.

[ROO] ...do i even WANT to remember?? don't chase innocent workers please...

---

[Q from necropathy_] Do you have any destinations/AUs that you don't mind/prefer delivering to?

[ROO] underswap, outertale, dancetale, that Alphys in the void... [A/N: the alphys is ALIVE by tatatale]

[ROO] and uh... horror AUs. well, they don't really order. but sometimes food just. slips out of my bag whilst i'm passing through.

[ROO] uh. don't tell the boss. we have this whole non-intervention policy, so...

---

[Q from SolarPhoenix7] I know you probably deliver a lot of different foods, but what's your own favorite dish?

[ROO] anything bbq flavoured is delish.

[ROO] by the way. you ever been to grillby's 2? their burgers are to die for. tho honestly i could eat just about anything and enjoy it.

[ROO] as long as it's not mtt food. no idea how they own so many stores across the multiverse. 0 stars.

---

[Q from Greedy621] Hi! Do you ever getting weird requests other than food delivery?

[ROO] the app is only designed for food delivery, so not particularly. but it does has a messaging feature. which is used... creatively... by some people.

[ROO] if anyone ever sends you a pic on there, don't open it. i promise you it's not worth it.

[G] Ok, now I’m curious what kind of pictures have you saw to made you give this advice.

[* He looks like he's remembering something unpleasant...]

[ROO] sorry, client confidentially. trust me... you REALLY don't wanna know.

[13as07]

Object #8

(Akatsuki Smut)

[Artwork is not mine! Credit to Pixiv Id]

Requested by: Anonymous

Word Count: 4,727

Warnings and/or Pre-Notes:

It got worse? Or maybe better? Idfk

Characters Include: Deidara, Hidan, Kisame

Name Calling: Explosion, Firecracker, Angel, Sacrifice, Whore, Bitch, Idiot, Guppy, Baby

Knife/Blood Play

Human Carving

Oral (male and female receiving)

Improper use of blood

Boob-Job/Titty Fondling (I think that's what it's called. Correct me if I'm wrong)

Toxic Religious Practices

Face-Fucking/Humping

Improper use of a knife (yes, like that; I need serious help)

Biting/Bite Marks

Praising

Pussy Shot

———————————————————————

     "My little explosion!" Deidara yells, getting a grumble from Tobi who's stretched out in my lap, enjoying the tummy rubs I've been giving him. "Marco?" The bomber calls from the hallway, making me softly giggle.

"Polo."

There's silence and then the pattering of feet along the hallway. Tobi continues to grumble, turning over to wrap his arms around me. "You should just stay here, okie dokie?"

"You have to share," I hum, sliding my fingers over his shirt again, focused on drawing out the symbols of the alphabet. He whines, arms tightening around me like that'll stop Deidara from ripping me out of his grasp. "You're fine, Tobs. We can hang out after I'm done with Deidara."

     The boy whines again but does roll off of me, settling by my side on his bed. "He's so boring. I'm much more fun. Stay here."

     "In your dreams," Deidara says, pushing the bedroom door open. A smile breaks out on his face when his eyes land on me, his metaphorical tail wagging. "There you are."

     "Here I am."

     The youngest member works his way into the room, his arms sliding under mine to lift me off the bed. "And now you're not here," he says, carrying me out of the room. Once we're across the threshold, I'm placed on my feet again, Deidara's fingers laced through mine to lead me forward. "We're going to go have sex."

     "I figured," I mutter, teasingly rolling my eyes at him. "Though you do know - "

     "Just oral, I know," he cuts me off, glancing at me before tugging me down the hallway again. "Getting head is nice," he mumbles, pushing his door open before I'm pulled after him. "And giving you head is great too," Deidara adds, almost buzzing as he pulls me toward the bed. I chuckle at the eager boy, tugging my hand out of his hold. "You should give me head. Right now," he pushes, gripping at my hand again.

     "I can do that," I answer, letting him cling to my fingers. "Do you want to sit down?"

"Yes," He pushes out quickly, falling to the edge of the bed. I can't tell if he's bouncing from excitement or almost body-slamming down. "Open your mouth, Firecracker," Deidara buzzes, his hands shoved down his pants to pull his dick out.

     I giggle at the ball of energy, sinking to my knees and letting my mouth hang open. My elbows rest on his knees, looking up at him as I wait for my next order. "Oh! Hold on!" He chirps, picking my elbows off of him before he leaves me alone by the bed.

     My eyes trail after Deidara, watching him shift through his drawers, pulling out one of his clay knives before settling back in his spot. "Come here, Firecracker," he mutters, positioning my elbows on his knees again. "I'm going to carve my owl into you this time," he continues, most of his focus on slowly sliding my dick into my mouth.

     I hum in response, puffing out my cheeks so I can take him easier. "Make sure you focus, my beautiful muse. Just because I enjoy your blood doesn't mean I enjoy mine," he teases, his fingertip trailing over my upper arm.

     Again I hum, slowly bobbing my head and doing my best not to move my arm around. As I start sucking, the tip of Deidara's knife starts trailing over my arm, quickly dipping further into my skin. On reflex my teeth try to clench, making it that much harder not to nip the dick down my throat.

     I bob my head faster, swirling my tongue around Deidara's cock. The sooner I can get him to finish, the sooner I can slide him out of my throat and stop worrying about nicking him. I know it won't be long until he finishes, the baby of the crew lacking the self-control to last after being untouched for so long.

     His eyebrows press together, the scope on his eye shifting to focus on my newest carving better. Though, he's probably focusing on not finishing so quickly if the mutters and noises attempting to hide under his breath are a hint to the thoughts behind his eye.

It doesn't work. The inexperienced bomber explodes down my throat, a small whine tumbling from him when he does. "That's not fair," he whines, disregarding his current artwork for a second, his hands cupping my elbows as he complains.

I pull myself off him, sending a smile his way. "How isn't it fair? You are the one that finished, not me."

"I know," he grumbles, using his hold on me to tug me to my feet. "My turn," Deidara cheers, his attitude doing a one-eighty once I'm off my knees.

I roll my eyes at the eager boy, crawling on his bed before situating myself on my back. "Always so eager to please, aren't you?" I tease, my hands instantly toying with his hair as the arsonist slides between my legs.

"Of course. I have to make sure my muse is taken care of," he says, Deidara's tone surprising me that there's not a 'duh' at the end of his sentence. "Relax, Firecracker. All you have to do is look stunning."

Again, I roll my eyes at his eagerness, toying with the end of his ponytail. The boy wastes no time, burying his head under my skirt and greedily sucking on the skin of my inner thighs. The forced bruises to my skin take away some stinging pain from my arm, but not all of it.

     Deidara hums to himself as he works, the sound getting muffled when his tongue starts to dance through my folds. "You're always so taste, my Pretty Explosion," he mumbles, layering my clit with short quick flicks of his tongue.

     "Thank you," I mutter, twirling his hair in hopes it'll help me not pull on it. "You always do such a good job."

     The praise only boosts his eagerness more, his arms hooking under my legs, dragging me forward to help himself bury further into me. An arm squirms out from around my knees, clumsily finding its way between us. "Deidara," I husk out, the tongue on his hand sliding out to start poking at my hole.

     "Firecracker?" He murmurs, his face shifting out to look at me as he starts sucking in my clit. His tongue slides in, sliding against my walls in time with the tongue circling my clit sucked into his mouth. I change my mind, Deidara's unnatural number of tongues is why he's my favorite.

     He takes his time, slowly prodding at my hole, softly sucking my clit while sliding teasing circles again it. The little pleasure top goes nice and slow, as if to punish me for being away too long, not that I mind. "Dara?" I breathe out, my orgasm following suit and slowly building up.

     He hums again, eyes still wandering over me to drink in my reaction. "Am I doing good?" He asks before falling back into place, the small break helping to push my finish forward.

     "Ya, yes. You always do such a good job. You're doing so good baby," I coo, twirling his ponytail before letting it tumble back into place. My cute little blonde.

     My thighs smoother his thin face, his eye lightening up as he releases what's about to happen. "Fuck," I hiss, Deidara's pace picking up, the boy as ecstatic as ever to push me over the edge and lap up the mess. "Slow... slow down a - " I cut myself off, a moan spilling out as I gush onto his tongues.

     "Yes," he mutters under his breath, dragging out the word he tried - and failed - to hide from me. Deidara's tongues go back to lightly dancing over me, trying to be gentle as they clean up my spill. "Stop squirming," he giggles, using his free hand to pin my hips to my bed.

     "Stop licking at me and I won't be squirming," I huff, squeezing his cheeks between my thighs again.

     He laughs again, his tongues leaving me as he pulls away. The material of my skirt is gently pulled back into place as Deidara decorates my knees in kisses. "Firecracker?" I let out a hum, eyes half-lidded as I watch him toy with his knife. "Now that you've finished, can I get head again?"

     I let out an airy chuckle as I sit up straight, cupping his cheeks to gently shake his head back and forth. "I just gave you head. How are you already hard again?"

     "It's your fault," he whines, crawling onto the bed next to me. "You make the prettiest sounds and the most beautiful face when you're enjoying my tongues," Deidara praises, his hands tugging at my legs, the teeth and tongues on his hands working at marking more of my skin. "Please?" He continues to whine, situating me between his knees, my arm back in place on his thigh so he can finish his carving.

      "I suppose I can do that for you," I mumble in a fake annoyed tone, my tongue already sliding over the tip of his penis.

     "Good," he breathes out, patting around the bed for his knife. A moment or two later, the sharp edge of the knife is badly digging into my skin, counting to carefully carve Deidara's owl sculpture into me.

     Just like last time, my main focus is on not accidentally snapping my jaw shut from the pain spilling from my upper arm. Despite his yearning to be sucked off again, I can tell he's not going to last as long this time; not that he lasted very long last time.

     "Slow down," he mumbles, his curving getting slower and eye blinking a mile a minute. Instead of being nice, I mimicked Deidara and pick up the pace. "Hey," he whimpers, dropping the knife back on the bed before his fingertips toy with the edges of the cut. "I said slow down."

"That's no fun," I shoot back before dropping back down his dick, the tip poking the back of my throat before sliding down nicely.

Another pitched whimper spills from him, marking the start of his orgasm seconds before he spills down my throat again. Deidara leans forward, his mouth cupping my new cuts and his tongue sliding over the valleys of it, slurping up my blood to hide away his noises. New pains spark from his curious tongue, a mix of the pain and having his dick so far down my throat prickling the corners of my eyes with tears.

When Deidara pulls away, fingertips wrapping up my hair to pull me off of him, a big toothy grin is on his face. His lips are stained with my blood, a stain that he transfers to my face when he litters me in kisses. "You should blow me again."

"Dead Lord, Dara," I chuckle, moving to situate myself on his lap, making sure the material of my skirt is between us. The last thing I need is to accidentally tease the hormonal boy under me and make his hormones spark even more. "Your dick is a little limb at the moment. How about we cuddle for a few minutes? It'll give both of us a nice break."

"Or I could eat you out again," he chirps, flipping us over. I lay out on the bed, letting him crush me under his weight. At this rate, I don't think I'll be able to go back to hanging out with Tobi. "Ready my perfect exploration?" Deidara asks, already tucking his head under my skirt.

Next time Pain takes me on an extended break, maybe I should bring Deidara with me cause Dead Lord does this boy have a sex drive. "Sure baby," I hum, situating my knees over his shoulders, preparing to be overstimulated for the rest of the time I'm with him.

                        ———————————

     The clock next to Nagato's bed rings, tipping me off to Hidan's soon-to-be arrival. The toxic follower of Jashin prays twice a day: Noon and six pm. Like clock-work, as I'm leaning over to turn off the alarm, the bedroom door slams open. "Angel!" I swear, what's with people and slamming doors open? Knock, or at the very least open the door like a civilized person. Thought I guess no one here is civilized.

"Hello Hidan," I mumble, leaving my book on the bedside table before I crawl out of my spot.

Before I'm even fully situated on my feet, I'm wrapped up in his limbs and carried out of the room. What's the point of having working legs if everyone is going to carry me everywhere? "I've been thinking," he starts - which is never a good thing, "about how I can't fuck you." I let out a hum, nodding my head along-side his babbling. "Though I guess it doesn't matter since the boss said I can still use your mouth."

Sometimes I wonder if Hidan was born a natural blonde. Especially in moments like this when he says the most pointless shit just to hear himself talk. "But I think I want to use your boobs." Maybe his ramble isn't as pointless as I thought.

     "I don't think my boobs are big enough for that," I mutter, being set on my feet long enough for Hidan to open the door to his Jashin Shrine - I mean, his room.

     "What you have will do. Besides whatever isn't wrapped in your breasts can be wrapped up by your mouth," he cackles, dragging me into the chilled darkness of the... well, sadist-worshipping space.

Like always, I'm tugged into the center of the paint on the floor, pushed to my knees, and told "Stay. Undress."

He leaves me to my devices, busying himself with collecting the circle's candles and scurrying off to find something to nick me with. As the obsessive worshipper runs around, I obey his orders, peeling my clothes off, and tossing them out of the sacrificial circle before I settle on the floor again.

Unlike last time, I wised up a bit from Hidan's jealousy and had Deidara wrap his curving this time. He bitched and whined a lot but did give in and wrapped my arm in bandages after I promised to unwrap it after both of my 'worshipping' times.

     "What the hell happened to you?" Hidan asks, appearing in front of me before shoving his fingertips into my wound, causing fresh blood to soak into the bandages.

     My eyes flicker around, trying to think of a reason. "Sasori got knife happy," I mutter, getting a shrug from Hidan as he settles on the ground.

     "That makes two of us," he tells me, gripping my wrist and tugging it toward himself. Unlike Deidara, Hidan digs the knife right into my wrist, mercilessly ripping my skin open and letting a river of blood spill out. He stabs himself with the knife, using his thigh as a knife holder. "Your titties are hot," he mutters, picking up and squeezing my newest cut, letting my blood soak into the whittles of the candle.

     "Fucking hot," Hidan repeats once the candles are coated, squeezing one of my breasts before leaving me to set up and light the candles. It doesn't take long for him to return, this time standing over me instead of sitting across from me. "Come here," he grumbles, snatching my wrist with one hand as the other one dips into his pants to pull out his cock.

Again, my new wound is squeezed, the warmth of my blood trickling out and numbing just a bit of my pain. Hidan shifts my wrist, hovering it over his dick so my blood coats it. "Press those fucking titties around my cock," he orders, dropping my wrist.

I situate myself on my knees better, sliding his dick into the valley between my boobs before doing what I'm told. The stickiness of my blood coats my boobs as I move, using my titties to jerk Hidan off. My mouth falls open too, letting my spot spill out and coat the sadist as a better form of lube.

"My Lord Jashin," he starts, hands buried into my hair and shoving my face down. His dick slips past my lips, Hidan's bullshit prayers spilling out as he jerks my head up and down. His cock bullies itself, the tip shoved into my mouth and the shaft sliding between my breasts. Muffled gags spill from me, his fast pace threatening to make me sick

It doesn't take long for me to start hurting, my ribs aching from pressing my boobs together, my throat starting to go raw from being fucked so rough, and my stomach hurting from suppressing my sick feeling. Luckily, Hidan shoved his penis down my throat, his cum spilling out. "Thank you Jashin. Please grace us with further immortality, health, and prosperity." Fucking weirdo.

I focus on my breathing and continue to not get sick as he stays buried down my throat, head dipped back as he pants and continues to praise Jashin. "Your turn!" He cheers, tugging himself out of my mouth, using my hair to tug me on all fours.

"My turn?" I ask, more to the ground than to Hidan, courtesy of him still clinging to strands of my hair.

"Yes, I'm going to fuck you while you thank Jashin and ask for the blessings you want to receive from him, like a good sacrifice."

"You can't fuck me, Pain said so," I remind him, trying to loosen his grip on me.

"Maybe I'll fuck you anyway."

"Put your dick anywhere near my vagina and I'll scream," I dare him, still tugging on his wrist.

"Pain isn't home," Hidan points out, his fingertips ghosting through my pussy. "He won't be able to hear you from where the hell he's at."

"No, but Konan is and everyone knows she rides Pain's dick harder than you ride Jashin's."

Hidan drops my hair, a rough smack landing on my ass, and pulling a yelp from me. "I swear, you're just thirsting for Jashin to kill you, you ungrateful whore," he grumbles, pushing me to the ground before flipping me over. "Maybe I should kill you," he mutters, tugging the knife from his thigh to rub it against my throat, not enough to cut me but enough to cost me with his blood.

"Or," I start the sudden reminder of how insane Hidan is sending freezing fingers of fear down my spine. "I... I... I can ask for forgiveness during my prayers."

He thinks about it for a second, still dancing the tip of the knife back and forth over my throat. "I suppose we can do that, can't we Angel?" I quickly nod my head, keeping the shakes swallowing so I don't cut myself. "I'm glad we agree! Now come here again," Hidan cheers, snatching my wrist again.

This time he shoves the handle of the knife into the open wound of my rest, the metal of it making my whole arm sting. "Knock it off, that hurts!" I yelp, trying to pull my wrist away from him.

"Stop being a bitchy little whore. I'm doing this for you," he grumbles, flipping it onto the other side of the handle before shoving it against the wound again. "Ungrateful bitch." Once the knife is finally pulled off, it's replaced by Hidan's tongue sliding over the cut, his paleness quickly coated by the black mainframe and white strips that make up his voodoo form. "Your blood is so tasty," he mutters, sinking his teeth into it, forcing blood to spill out faster.

"Hidan," I hiss, the name coming out more as a sob than the anger I was trying for. I'm ignored, the immortal continuing to use his teeth to rip my wound open further and using his tongue to guzzle my blood. I swear the little shit is a vampire.

     When he finally pulls away, his eyes are gleaming with joy. "Alright, time for you to pray," he tells me, shifting my legs up, and pushing my knees to my chest. "Jashin, I can't wait to use your pussy again," Hidan mutters, his still blood-soaked tongue twirling through my pussy once. "But for now, focus on Jashin," he adds, shoving the butt of the knife into my hole.

     "Fuck, Hidan. What the hell?!" I yell, jerking upward, my hands gripping his hair as I pant, trying to calm the tears in my eyes and the pain rippling from my cunt.

     "Pray," he orders, shoving me back onto my back, his eyes seeming to glint even more from my discomfort. Why's he always such a jackass?

     More pain wrinkles through me when Hidan starts thrusting the knife in and out of me. "Fuck... Jashin," I mutter, hoping the sooner I get out a prayer, the sooner he'll knock his shit off. "I would... would like to apologize for disgracing you," I rush out, tears starting to spill down my cheeks as the handle is thrust faster. "Thank you for... for all my blessing recently, for my safety and... and I would... like to ask for further health and prosperity."

     "How cute! Jashin will be so happy!" Hidan cheers, pounding the knife in and out of me still, soft yelps of pain spilling from me. "I'm so happy," he says, finally pulling the knife out of me, raising it to lick the blood and pussy juices off of it. "Your ah... pussy is bleeding a bit," he mutters, finger swirling around as it points at my pussy.

     "I thought you were into period sex," I grumble, snapping my legs shut, squeezing them together as much as I can.

     "I am but this isn't your period. Your cycle doesn't start for another eleven days. If I'm going to eat your bleeding pussy I want it to be naturally bleeding."

     "You track that?" I ask, shooting upright, causing new sparks of pain to swirl through my vagina and legs.

     "Duh, idiot," he grumbles, collecting my clothes before throwing them at me. I'm left to dress alone, Hidan busy snuffing out his candles. What a fucking sociopath.

                        ———————————

     "Dolly," Tobi hums, slithering back into Nagato's room. "I'm back with a new ice pack," he adds, shaking the cloth-wrapped cooling device as proof.

     "Thank you," I whisper, lifting my hips to remove the defrosted one. Why does Hidan always have to be so rough? Why does he leave me so sore every single time?

     Tobi places the new one under me, gently pushing my hips back down before his fingers slide through my hair. "I'll be right back, okie dokie?"

     "Okie dokie," I echo, hunching back over in the bed, my head buried in my arms and my chest pressed into the mattress. Tobi grabs the watery ice pack before skirting out of the room again, leaving me alone.

     I'm not alone for long though, a knock on the door notifying me that I have another visitor. I shift up being met with the Akatsuki's great white shark poking his head into the room. I flip my head back down, a long whimper spilling from me. "Kisame, I can't," I whine, continuing to throw a hissy fit.

     "I'm sure you can, Guppy," he coos, walking into the room. His big hand rests on my head, shifting around to nuzzle my hair. "I just want to hump and nibble on you."

     "Kisame," I wail, continuing to pout. "It's going to hurt."

     "I'll go nice and slow, I promise," he chuckles, hand sliding down to cup my throat, using it to push me upright. "You'll be fine."

     "Meanie," I whine again, sticking my lip out to continue my pout.

     "Baby," he shoots back, bending down to nibble on my lip. He tugs on it, replacing his teeth with a kiss when he loses his hold on my lip. "Be a good Guppy and take your shirt off."

“Fine,” I grumble, tugging the material off.

Kissme’s hand slides off my neck, trailing over my shoulder and down my back to unsnap my bra. His lips continue to brush against mine, his hands twirling in small and slow circles down my sides before gripping my hips. I’m lifted long enough for him to position himself on the bed. “Can you be a good Guppy again?”

I nod my head yes, my fingertips tapping around his neck, being careful not to touch his gills. He chuckles, stamping a few kisses on my cheek as he rubs my sides again. “Take my dick out and start grinding yourself on me.” My hands fall, quickly sliding under Kisame’s waistband and wrapping around his thick cock to pull it out.

He hums in approval, lifting my hips to situate himself against my pussy. “Your cunt is chilled,” he chuckles, hands sliding forward and up to cup my breasts.

“Hidan fucked me with a knife handle,” I shortly explain, shifting my hips forward. I shove down the whimper that bubbles when Kisame’s tip snags on my hole.

“Remind me to rip Hidan’s throat out,” he grumbles, head dipping to rest against my boobs. Kisame’s teeth graze my skin before digging in, their sharpness easily sinking into my flesh.

I continue humping again Kisame’s dick, sliding myself back and forth. It doesn’t take long for arousal to mix with the stinging of my aches. It also doesn’t take long for the snagging on my pussy to push out my whiners of pain. “You’re doing so good,” he coos, releasing my skin long enough to praise me and find a new spot to sink into.

Small rivers of blood trickle from the bite wounds, staining his teeth red as he chomps on me. “Kisame,” I whine, sobs threatening to bubble up with my whimpers of pain. “It hurts.”

“What hurts?” He grumbles, switching to my other breast, and quickly tearing at the new section of flesh. “Your boobs? Your boobs look delicious, I can’t help myself,” he mutters, shifting an inch or two before stamping another teeth imprint into me. “I’m sorry, Guppy,” he apologizes, tongue sliding out to coat the muscle with the same paint covering his teeth. “Just keep grinding, I’ll be done soon.”

I let my arms dangle over his shoulders, my nails clinging to his shoulder blades. I ignore the pain, sliding against him faster. “Just like that, Guppy,” he coos again, his hands clinging to my hips to help me grind against him better. “You’re doing so good, going through so much pain for me,” praises fall from his lips like water, a hand slithering over and dipping down.

Kisame’s fingertips are rubbing lightly, the calluses that have built over the years of sword-work counteracting the soft touches. “Don’t,” I whine, the touches making me pulse, adding new numbed ripples of pain to echo through my body.

“Why not? I want you to feel good too,” he chuckles, snatching my nipple between his lips, and grinding his teeth against it.

“That hurts too,” I continue to pout, clinging to him harder. “You’re hurting me.”

“You’re fine,” he mutters, eyes flickering up as he sucks my nipple into his mouth. He suckles on it, tongue slithering over the ache. “The gushier you are the quicker I’ll finish,” Kisame adds after releasing my tit.

His head rests against mine, softly knocking against me before he settles. “I’m close, Guppy, I promise. Just a little longer. You’re doing so good, so perfect.” Kisame is a lot like his partner, a rough serial killer who is soft and sweet when we’re alone.

“Fuck,” he grunts, tugging me forward again, his dick snagging on my hole again. His tip toys with my hole, poking at it but not enough to slip in. At least he does until my pussy is coated in the wetness and warmth of his cum. “Good Guppy,” he grunts, the tip still in action with the want to shove as much of his seed into me as he can without breaking his orders.

“Dolly, I’m back!” Tobi’s voice rings out, pulling a groan from Kisame.

“Why am I always the one getting walked in on while using you?”

“I don’t know,” I giggle, twirling his short hair around my fingertips. “Maybe next time we won’t get walked in on.”

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[happi-tree]

don't kiss and tell

“Can you get off me, please?” Lincoln deadpans instead, jostling Taylor on his back a bit. “Wanna stand up.”

“Hmmmmm, on one condition,” Taylor muses slyly. His jet black hair gleams with sweat under the scattered fluorescents, and stray strands tickle the side of Lincoln’s neck as Taylor leans in even closer. 

“Remove my makeup for me?” He shakes the package of makeup wipes for emphasis, and Lincoln glances over his shoulder to see Taylor’s trademarked doe-eyed look, complete with batting lashes and pouting lips. 

Or: After a long, tiring concert set, Lincoln helps Taylor backstage. One thing leads to another, and he gets a little more than he bargained for.

ao3

Hi, guys! Guess who's back with one more Swiftli fic to finish off 2023! I've had this idea kicking around in my docs (and my wip posts lmao) since July and figured it was high time to polish it up haha. Enjoy some very, very self-indulgent idol au Swiftlis below the cut!

“Liiiiiiincoln,” A familiar voice whines behind him.

Lincoln hums questioningly without turning around - he’s a bit preoccupied with tidying up their group’s shared dressing room. 

Sure, they’ll be performing their set here tomorrow night as well, but it never hurts to make sure everything is in its place so he can at least attempt at mitigating the chaos that is bound to unfold. That, and he doesn’t want to cause the staff any excess trouble.

“Liiiiiiiink,” Taylor prods again, and Lincoln can hear the exaggerated dragging steps his groupmate is taking toward him. “I’m all sweaty and you’re all sweaty and I will not hesitate to lean on you if you don’t pay attention to me.”

“Do, it, then,” Lincoln mutters, slightly hunched over to fluff up the throw pillows on the couch and inspect it to make sure nobody’s spilled their half-caff coffee (Normal) or energy drink (Scary) or needlessly complicated boba order (Taylor) or sports drink (himself). “Busy.”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn ya,” Taylor says, draping himself across Lincoln’s back like an overgrown cat, hands hanging limply over Lincoln’s shoulders. In his peripheral vision, Lincoln notes that one’s holding a container of makeup wipes. “You’re so grumpy when you’re exhausted nowadays! Seems like a certain someone’s rubbing off on you.”

“Or, you know, using my back as a chaise lounge.”

“Well, I had been referring to Scary, but you’re not wrong!” He crows, stretching a little as if to emphasize all the points where their bodies make contact. 

(It’s uncomfortably warm and a little gross with all the sweat from their concert, and it’s a lot less bothersome than Lincoln would like to admit. Even in the afterglow of a performance in the earliest hours of the morning, voice hoarse and body crashing from all the adrenaline and mind dimmed with the promise of late-night room service and sleep, Taylor still has a way of making things a bit more bearable. Even when he’s acting anything but.)

A grimy finger pokes him lightly in the cheek, breaking Lincoln from his thoughts. He rolls his eyes and makes to fold the little blankets the staff had set out for them. 

“You’re so cute with your brows all furrowed like that,” Taylor teases. “Li-Wilson, our very own pretty boy, all angry and frowny. What would the press say?”

There’s a very, very stupid fluttering that happens in Lincoln’s chest whenever Taylor strings his name together with words like “cute” or “pretty” or “handsome”. And it happens annoyingly often, considering how much the four of them will play up their affections for their fans. Lincoln knows it’s not untrue - the internet surely agrees with what Taylor’s saying, if the endless amounts of comments he probably shouldn’t get sucked into reading are anything to go by - but sometimes… he still wonders if it’s all in his head, the way Taylor drops flirtations like he means them.

That’s a thought for later, though, when he’s in their shared hotel room fighting off the wonderful combination of jet lag and insomnia.

“Can you get off me, please?” Lincoln deadpans instead, jostling Taylor on his back a bit. “Wanna stand up.”

“Hmmmmm, on one condition,” Taylor muses slyly. His jet black hair gleams with sweat under the scattered fluorescents, and stray strands tickle the side of Lincoln’s neck as Taylor leans in even closer. 

“Remove my makeup for me?” He shakes the package of makeup wipes for emphasis, and Lincoln glances over his shoulder to see Taylor’s trademarked doe-eyed look, complete with batting lashes and pouting lips. 

“Cute,” Lincoln says out loud, because he calls Taylor that all the time in public, and he has no reason not to voice it now. Unlike the countless interviews and livestreams they’ve done together, though, he has the pleasure of watching red crawl its way across Taylor’s cheeks, which only further proves his point. 

“B-be that as it may, I have you effectively trapped until you do my bidding, you tall, unfairly handsome boy.”

Lincoln is so fortunate that he doesn’t blush easily, a fact which annoys both Taylor and the rest of their group. 

“Why can’t you remove your own makeup, huh?” Lincoln complains halfheartedly even as he takes the wipes offered to him and Taylor wriggles happily in celebration.

“Don’t have any mirrors,” He argues (which is clearly a lie - there are no less than eight in this room alone in case of last-minute touch-ups, not counting their phones), “and I’m so tired I can barely stand!”

“Oh, are your legs acting up? I can carry you if you want,” Lincoln replies, all pretense of grouchiness forgotten as he carefully straightens up, making sure that Taylor can still lean on him without throwing him off-balance.

“I mean, I’m probably fine. Just a little shaky, is all.” Taylor laughs a little, a short, breathy, half-nervous sound that Lincoln feels against the back of his outrageously complicated blouse. 

“You sure?” Lincoln asks, shooting Taylor a look of his own - his “princely protector” look, as he’s seen their fans call it - and Taylor’s expression softens a bit before breaking into a teasing smirk. 

“I mean… I am pretty tired, if you’re still offering, and I’d hate for those strong arms of yours to go to waste -”

“Alright, then, just let me…” Despite the awful clinging feeling of his sweaty clothes and the daunting task of even a little bit of physical exertion, Lincoln can’t help but grin as he rearranges their limbs to lift Taylor. It’s a familiar practice, borne from their years as training partners before they ever made their debut alongside Scary and Normal, and one Lincoln can find himself enjoying even in his drained, slightly sluggish state.

(It’s hard not to enjoy the feeling of Taylor in his arms, even if it’s just for a little bit.)

“Up we go!” Lincoln says, scooping him up into a bridal carry and spinning the two of them in a lazy circle. Like the many times they’ve done this, Taylor slings his arms around Lincoln’s neck and laughs, joyful and unrestrained and slightly hoarse from a night of singing. Like the many times they’ve done this, Lincoln wishes that he could bottle the sound, hollow out a hole in his heart and place that in it. 

(Like the many times they’ve done this, he wishes he could stop going a little braindead every time Taylor’s hot breath fans against the side of his neck.)

“O-okay,” Lincoln announces, hoping the stutter in his voice can be passed off as some sort of vocal strain. “Where do you wanna be?”

“There!” Taylor shifts in Lincoln’s grip, pointing to a black leather swivel chair in the corner of the room, tucked away behind some sort of support column. 

“Alright,” Lincoln says, swooping over and then allowing Taylor to carefully extricate himself from Lincoln’s torso. 

As gross as they both are right now, Lincoln finds himself missing the contact. 

He has a job to do, though.

Lincoln kneels down on the worn, carpeted floor before Taylor, trying not to think about how his body aches, grabs a makeup wipe from the pack, and assesses the boy before him. 

Taylor sits still and pretty - the distinct lack of fidgeting is a sure sign of how absolutely exhausted he is. His face shimmers from a combination of sweat and the glittery pink-peach pastes his makeup artists use to draw attention to his eyes. Thin, smoky eyeliner swoops from the outer corners of his eyes, a burgundy so dark it’s nearly black. The heavy blush that was placed on the apples of his cheeks has faded to a mere suggestion now, but Taylor’s lips are still stained a deep cherry-plum, the corners defined with small strokes in a way that makes his smile appear more cat-like, somehow. 

The stylists did a very good job with him, Lincoln thinks.

Lincoln makes slow, gentle work of removing every last bit of makeup from Taylor’s face, stroking with just the barest of pressure across his forehead, vaguely registering the way that the fibers stain with shades of peach and beige and concentrating on unearthing the soft skin beneath. 

With every swipe of his hand, Lincoln can feel Taylor’s eyes on him, slightly glazed over and staring shamelessly. Lincoln doesn’t blame him for spacing out this late at night, and if Taylor’s not spacing out, if he’s looking at Lincoln just to drink him in amidst the peace that comes after a long night of song after song - well. Lincoln would be lying if he said he wasn’t using this as an excuse to look at him, take in and admire each and every one of his features as if he hasn’t committed them to memory a hundred times over. Map out the slight dip of his temple with his fingers, trace the curve of his cheek, stare right back into those dark, faraway eyes while removing his eyeliner and risk falling into them…

“Close your eyes,” Lincoln prompts, and that temptation is removed as Taylor’s eyelids flutter shut, obedient. Somehow, it doesn’t help with the lump of emotion building like phlegm in the back of his throat. 

Lincoln isn’t good with words, not the way Scary is, with her effortless lyricism and smooth-sounding syllables, phrases that bludgeon with the force of a sledgehammer or pierce through with the precision of a surgeon’s knife, depending on what is needed most.

But when Lincoln looks at Taylor like this, sometimes he finds himself wanting to be. He wants to write out everything trapped somewhere between his ribcage and his mouth, press the stain of it all into hotel memo pads, onto crumpled-up napkins from restaurants in cities he’ll never see again, tuck them into his pockets and let his chicken-scrawl attempts weigh him down twice as heavily as before. 

He’s tried, before, tried so many times, but they never come out quite right, toeing the line between being trite and far too strange. 

There’s just this… undeniable gravity about Taylor that defies any description. He’s got this magnetism to him, and they’ve been circling each other like opposing poles, like binary stars, ever since their first near-collision. His presence is real, undeniable - and not just onstage, where every staccato sound tumbles past Taylor’s lips with the strength and grace of a percussive rainfall, where every eye is drawn to him. 

Taylor is far more than that.

It’s in moments like this where Lincoln feels his pull the strongest, when the lights fade and the curtain drops and Taylor’s features are softened by the encroaching shadows yet still radiant from the high of their performance. When Taylor’s taken out his fancy lenses and Lincoln can see the onyx depths of his eyes, dare to lean closer to see if he can map out the place where his irises meet his pupils in the lowlight, all framed by dark, short lashes. When he presses a hand to Taylor’s cheek and strokes gently, watches as the sweat and foundation and blush give way to olive skin, wishes that the makeup wipe wasn’t in the way and he could hold Taylor like this for real, whenever he wanted. When he finds a clean section of chemical-soaked cloth and carefully touches it to Taylor’s lips, when he hears the way Taylor’s breath hitches near-imperceptibly in the quiet of this tucked away green room in this two-night town. 

“Does it sting?” Lincoln hears himself ask, searching his face for any discomfort. After so much silence, the question sounds louder than when their voices echoed off the stage, more amplified than any microphone could ever make it.

“N-nope,” Taylor rasps, and Lincoln knows it’s probably just rough from overuse but maybe there’s also something more. “Keep - keep going.”

“Okay,” Lincoln says, leaning in a little closer (he has to make sure he gets everything). “Let me know if it hurts?”

“Mm.”

Lincoln sets aside the makeup wipe, grabs a fresh one, and focuses on removing Taylor’s lipstick. 

Taylor has very nice lips. Like, objectively. They’re a little on the thinner side, but his cupid’s bow forms a heart shape and the edges turn up naturally at the corners in a way that makes him look perpetually mischievous.

As Lincoln gently swipes away at the lip liner, he thinks (not for the first time) about what it would be like to kiss him.

Taylor’s kissed Lincoln before - on his forehead, on his shoulders, on his cheek. Lincoln has kissed Taylor before, too - the crown of his head, his temple, and on one memorable occasion, the corner of his mouth. It’s practically to be expected at this point. He’s kissed Normal and Scary, too, and they’ve kissed him, but with them, it’s something easy, rote, platonic, entirely performative.

Kissing Taylor has always felt different. Maybe it’s because the soft press of Taylor’s lips against his skin always leaves him with some sort of endless pit in his chest, something that threatens to consume him whenever he meets Taylor’s black-hole eyes.

And it drives Lincoln absolutely crazy, the way he constantly finds himself wanting more - wanting to know the way that their mouths might slot together, to see if Taylor’s lips are as soft against his own as they feel against the back of his hand. 

Lincoln presses the wipe to Taylor’s top lip, runs his cloth-covered finger over the divot of his cupid’s bow, and fails to stop thinking about the way his groupmate might taste - fails to stop thinking about kissing the boy in front of him until they’re both rendered completely breathless. 

Taylor’s breath stutters, and Lincoln can feel the fluttery inhale-exhale against his face, and he glances upward to see Taylor’s eyes open, now, free of shadows and glitter. His gaze darts lazily between Lincoln’s eyes and his mouth.

Taylor can read Lincoln’s expressions like a favorite book. It’s only natural, having lived and worked in close quarters for the past five years together. He knows the way the light glances off Lincoln’s eyes when his mind is elsewhere, knows his fake smiles from his genuine ones, knows the way his eyes crinkle at the corners whenever he’s truly, exuberantly happy.

Taylor knows exactly what Lincoln’s thinking right now. 

And for the same reason, Lincoln recognizes the look in Taylor’s eyes for exactly what it is. 

Tiredness. Longing. Affection. Want. 

It would be easy, so easy to lean in those final few inches, to close the distance between him the way that he’s wanted to for years, the way they’ve both wanted to. But what they desire and what they can let themselves have - those have always been two very different things. 

But it’s late, and most of the staff have cleared out, and Normal and Scary are probably hanging out on the empty stage like usual. Even so, there’s always a chance -

Lincoln’s eyes flick toward the ceiling.

“There’s one camera on the other side of the pillar,” Taylor says, and Lincoln’s eyes snap back to him immediately. A suggestion of a smirk plays at Taylor’s lips.

“Did you…” Taylor’s smile grows, something secretive and almost shy. Predictably, Lincoln’s gaze follows the curve of his lips as he trails off.

“You’ve been staring a lot tonight,” Taylor teases, and god, Lincoln can’t take the low, lilting timbre of his voice right now, not when he’s close enough to feel his breath against his face, not with flashes of berry-stained lips and white teeth taking up so much of his vision. “Do you wanna -”

“Yes,” Lincoln cuts him off, sounding much more desperate than he intended.

With no foundation left to hide it, Taylor’s face colors bright red remarkably quickly.

Lincoln swallows down the embarrassment, and Taylor’s eyes track the constriction of his throat.

He drops the makeup wipe, absentmindedly brushing his hand on his trousers, letting it hang in the empty space between them.

There’s not much of it left. Lincoln can feel the last of his resolve crumbling in the wake of Taylor voicing the truth that’s lived trapped in their lungs for years on end. His heartbeat, previously sluggish with the promise of rest, pounds faster in his chest, a marcato drumbeat that seems to chant almost, almost, almost.

Lincoln has lived through years of almosts, sustaining himself on the briefest of intimacies that they allow themselves, and everything he longs for is right in front of him, coalesced into the shape of his closest friend. 

Lincoln is tired of almosts. He wants a finally. 

But he’ll reach out and take it only if Taylor wants it, too. 

“Are… you okay with this?” Link asks, the question barely a murmur, because even though the answer is spelled out in the way Taylor’s hands are shaking in anticipation, he needs to make sure before their closeness becomes something more.

“Yeah,” Taylor breathes, a whispery sigh of an admission, and Lincoln’s heart jolts in his chest as Taylor reaches out to cradle the curve of his jaw, to drag him in further. “Yes. Please.”

And it is with that last murmured plea that Lincoln feels his resolve break. He shifts upward, inward, bracing his hands on the armrests of the makeup chair (he doesn’t trust his own legs to stay steady even as they kneel before him, and like hell is he going to let that ruin the moment he’s been dreaming of for years), and Taylor’s hand curls even more perfectly around his jaw, and finally, they meet in the middle.

Kissing Taylor is both nothing and everything like Lincoln had imagined.

Everything, because the feeling of Taylor smiling slightly against his lips, the subtle warmth of his mouth, the supple, pliant give as Taylor slots their lips together, is almost exactly as he had dreamed.

Nothing, because Taylor kisses him sweetly, gently, slowly, more kindly than Lincoln had ever thought possible.

Taylor has always been insatiable. Lincoln knew this from the moment he first laid eyes on him, from the moment he had bound up to him. He had been newly seventeen and starry-eyed, then, flagging him down from across the company practice room and asking if he could teach him how to dance. Taylor is fiery and headstrong and brightly-burning in his ambition, and everything he does, he does with an intense passion.

Now, in the half-lit almost-quiet of the green room, Taylor mouths at his lips so tenderly - almost hesitantly - that Lincoln feels like he could melt. The hand on the side of his jaw carefully, worshipfully maps out the planes of his face, traces along his cheekbone, behind his ear, guides him to tilt his head for a better angle. Lincoln makes a strange, whining noise in the back of his throat that Taylor takes from him, swallows down with a satisfied hum that sends vibrations through to Lincoln’s very soul, like the thrumming pulse of a bass-line in his chest.

Lincoln leans further into Taylor’s gravity, kisses him with the quiet desperation that’s been pent up, building and building in a wordless crescendo within him for years on end. He tries his best to pour the vast depths of his devotion into this moment, every admiration and affection and confession, every brush of Lincoln’s lips against his an I adore you, every exhaled sigh an every love song we’ve ever sang made me think of you. I love you, he thinks as he presses Taylor flush against the back of the chair, as his hands let go of the armrests to tangle in shiny, dark hair and Taylor sings into his mouth in response. Taylor is beautiful and warm and sweaty against him, and Lincoln presses their lips together again and again, an unending chorus of thank you, I love you, I love you, I love you.

Taylor, for his part, responds in kind, arching his body into Lincoln’s hold, warm hands unhurriedly searching for purchase and finding it at the nape of his neck, at just above the small of his back. Lincoln registers the way Taylor fists at the expensive fabric of his shirt, the way his blunted, neatly-manicured nails scrape against the base of his scalp, and Lincoln shivers a bit in his embrace, though he feels wonderfully warmed through, more alive than when they performed for hundreds of fans just hours ago.

Taylor tastes like sweat and the chemicals from the makeup wipes. It has no right to be as addictive as it is to him. Maybe it’s because Taylor’s lips are every bit as soft against his own as they look on the monitors.

Lincoln’s sure that his lips are thoroughly chapped, but judging from Taylor’s delicate gasps and the eager, greedy way he leans further and further into him, he’s also sure that Taylor doesn’t mind.

Lincoln holds the last kiss for as long as he dares, drinking in the feeling of satisfying all of his favorite dreams and his wildest hopes. He commits the shape of his groupmate in his hands to memory, basking in the euphoria of carding fingers through show-mussed hair, of Taylor’s hand twisting in the fabric of his blouse. A smile threatens to pull at his lips as Taylor’s feathery breaths ghost against his cheek, measured and slightly shaky, an orchestration coming apart at the seams.

They stay like that for a long moment, and there is synchrony, harmony in the way Taylor melts into his touch. He's trying to capture this moment, too, Lincoln knows, impressing every bit of it into the corners of his mind, the backs of his eyelids, the hollow of his ribs. 

Eventually, they break apart, and Lincoln opens his eyes to see Taylor smiling slightly, angelic, still leaning inward like he wants to chase his lips. It’s such an adorable image that Lincoln nearly goes to kiss him again, but then Taylor looks up at him through his lashes, blinking slowly, and Lincoln is awed into stillness. 

Taylor’s always been very charming, expressive in a way Lincoln envied, able to make their fans fall for him with nothing but a camera and a simple glance. 

But Taylor isn’t acting for anyone here. The affection that warms his deep, dark eyes is for Lincoln and Lincoln alone, something raw and unscripted and intimate enough to steal the air from Lincoln’s lungs, and he can only hope the open adoration is reflected in his own gaze.

God, he’s gorgeous.

Lincoln touches his forehead to Taylor’s, exhaling unsteadily.

Taylor’s hand smooths over the back of his neck, and he gasps a little, drawn in by his touch, his magnetism, his care.

“I’ve wanted to do that for years,” Lincoln admits softly into the shared air between them.

Taylor grins, a secret, clandestine thing, eyes half-lidded in a heady concoction of exhaustion and exhilaration and wanting.

“I know,” Taylor murmurs back, barely above a whisper, and Lincoln can hear the smile in his voice, all his sharp edges softened and heat tempered just for him. “Me, too.”

And it really is that simple. They’ve been dancing around each other for years on end, every bit of longing telegraphed like choreography through every minuscule gesture and fleeting touch. Every fragment of it is magnified by the glances they allowed themselves, reflected in the way their eyes meet, yearning painted in countless shades of onyx and bronze and ebony and sepia. 

Lincoln knows it, and Taylor knows it. 

And quite suddenly, the world has narrowed down to the two of them and nothing else.

“Yeah,” Lincoln responds dumbly, breathless from the proximity and the weight of years lifted from his shoulders. His eyes flick down to Taylor’s lips, at the red stain his own mouth has left there, at the delicate curve of them, love-drunk smiling and slightly puffy. 

He wants to kiss him again, wants to feel that smile pressed against his, wants to lean in and close the distance. And so he does, because nothing on this earth can stop Lincoln from chasing after Taylor in every stolen moment he can get, from tilting his head just the right way, from shutting his eyes and following through -

Except Taylor does stop him, pressing the pad of his index finger to his lips. 

Lincoln makes a confused sort of hum, opening his eyes to find Taylor giggling incandescently, and it almost makes up for not kissing him.

“It’s late, Link,” Taylor murmurs conspiratorially, though he has no need to when nobody else is here. “Norm and Scary’ve gotta be wondering what’s taking us so long.”

“Oh,” Lincoln says, disappointed - or, well, he tries to say it, but Taylor’s finger is still in the way, so it comes out a little odd. After considering for a moment, he places a kiss to the tip of Taylor’s finger instead, blinking up at him.

“God, put your pretty eyes away, I’m already embarrassingly in love with you,” Taylor responds, his bare face flushing noticeably darker even in the dim lighting. 

Lincoln smiles against his finger, and Taylor sighs, eyes darting elsewhere so he can focus better.

“Anyway. They’ve gotta be waiting for us to get into street clothes so we can get the fuck out of here,” Taylor continues, pointedly not looking directly at him.

Lincoln kisses his finger again, just to be a menace. Taylor’s breath hitches the slightest bit, and Lincoln grins. 

“Listen, the sooner we leave, the sooner we get to the hotel. And the sooner we get to the hotel,” Taylor finally looks at him - looks at all of him, eyes dragging slowly down his still-kneeling form - “the sooner we can pick up where we left off.” 

He makes eye contact then, smirking and smug as he pushes lightly at Lincoln’s shoulder to give himself space to stand. “Sound good?”

Holy shit.

Lincoln has the sudden, distinct thought that they’re going to need to cancel the rest of their tour, because Lincoln is going to die at Taylor’s (soft, beautiful, warm) hands if he keeps saying things like this. Lincoln will die, and their group will disband, and everything will be ruined because Taylor is every bit as cruel and conniving as he is beautiful and Lincoln is in far too deep. 

“Uh, you okay, dude?” his groupmate (boyfriend? partner? something else?) asks. 

“Great!” Lincoln says at an octave he didn’t know was possible, numbly pulling himself to stand and ignoring the way his knees ache. 

Taylor follows suit, and Lincoln makes for his change of clothes - though not without ducking down to place a quick kiss to Taylor’s temple, feeling more awake than he has in hours as he darts away from him. 

Taylor barks out a one-note laugh, startled and disbelieving.

“Race ya!” Lincoln yelps, laughter coloring his own voice as he quickly grabs his street clothes, leaving Taylor sputtering behind him. 

“Oh, you are so getting payback when we get to the hotel,” Taylor seethes not-so-darkly, grabbing his own go bag of clothes.

“I’m counting on it!” He replies, cheeky and giddy with energy despite the late hour.

Lincoln knows it’ll be hell not to hold Taylor as close as he wants out in public, not to kiss him beyond the bounds of manufactured flirting for the cameras. They’ll need to talk about what they are now, exactly, he thinks, as he starts to pick apart the series of crisscrossed, mazelike fastenings of his stage outfit. He has to remind himself to be a bit more patient so the fabric doesn’t rip at the seams in the wake of his excitement. 

But, as he finally extricates himself and pulls on the SPDRBZ hoodie he had snatched from the merch booth a few stops ago, Lincoln can’t help but feel optimistic. 

It’ll be worth it, he thinks, to hold Taylor, kiss him, shower him with praise until his skin flushes red, to be held and kissed and praised in return away from prying eyes. To have something just for them, even if it means they’ll need to work hard to keep this under wraps.

They’re no strangers to hard work. Lincoln’s groupmates are about as diligent as they come, Taylor included. Surely, this won’t be too difficult.

“You coming or what, slowpoke?” Taylor asks, pulling him from his thoughts. He’s changed into a simple tee shirt and cargos at the doorway, cane in hand and fondness in his eyes.

“Yeah,” Lincoln says, stumbling into his shoes as he meets Taylor, wanting to sling an arm around his waist before correcting himself and draping it across his shoulders instead as they head out. He beams regardless, giddy and hopeful, and the feeling in his chest burns brighter than the stage lights. “Let’s go.”

[liroutrozenberg]

Truth or booze, Jake?

"It should be fun." - You say in a pleased tone, sitting comfortably in your seat before looking at the Avatar who agreed to play. - "The last time we did something like this was before the Marine Corps? Correct me if I'm wrong." "I wish it stayed in my head for a long time." - Jake answers as honestly as possible, and his tail beating on the floor with soft knocks betrays his cheerful mood. - "We ended up forgetting about the rules and just getting drunk. Although, I can't say that it somehow disappointed me." "Great mood, because today everything will end the same." - You stated unequivocally, arranging the stack of cards in your palms before placing them in the middle of the table and picking up the one on top. The reaction was not long in coming. "Great." You put the card aside and barely contain your laughter. "Have you ever heard Na'vi having sex or anything like that?" "Let the confession begin." - The man choked on air. He stared at the bottle of alcohol for a few seconds before moving his gaze back to you. - "There's no soundproofing at all. So - yes, I heard and I swear to God, the first time it was as embarrassing as possible." "Did they know you heard them?" - Through laughter, you specify, before finally hiding your face in your palms, in order to somehow drown out the sounds escaping from you. "No. And I never told anyone about it." - The Avatar said firmly, picking up the card. - "That would be as strange as possible, don't you think?" - He watches you try to catch your breath before you read out the question. - "What would be the first thing you would do if one day you woke up as a member of the opposite sex? Really an interesting question." "I slept with another man." - After some thought, you continued. - "And a woman. Damn it, it's very different from what you usually feel when you have sex. I think there is a part of people who somehow think about something like that from time to time or is it that spontaneous thought, that comes to your mind when you're trying to sleep." "So, what if you woke up as an Avatar?" - Sally clarified, folding his palms so that he could calmly rest his head on them while looking at you. "Mm. Same thing, just changing the species." - In fact, you were not sure what exactly this question should have been difficult, but did not focus on this and transferred your interest to the next one. - "Which body part do you like the most?" "Do you mean in yourself or in others?" - Jake clarified, in general, clearly not intending to wash down the answer. "Let's do both." - You answered easily and hid in anticipation, while he concentratedly looked somewhere to the side. "Great. Then in yourself, probably the hands? I don't quite understand why, but it is." - After a nod of approval, he continued. - "In others… hmm. Back and hips, I think. The way the muscles roll under the skin." "Fuck, we're definitely not drunk to death at this rate." - You moan almost disappointedly, throwing your head back towards the ceiling. "Is not a fact." Sally shook his head. - "What is your favorite position in sex?" "Lick, I'll tell you. - You laughed out loud, watching the shock that slowly appeared on your friend's face. - "I'm bad at knowing the names, but the "cowgirl position", if that's what it's called, but when the partners are not just lying, but close - face to the face. And, I think, against the wall, or when one partner holds the other on weight." - The expression on the face of the Avatar at that moment should have been seen live and you regretted that you did not have a phone or camera with you to capture it. - " Your turn. What needs to happen for you to sleep with me?" Sally's confusion changed. You clearly saw how the tips of his ears turned a little red, in truth, you yourself were wondering which stars had to align for this particular man to decide to sleep with you. "I want to know." - You speak firmly, so that the man does not even think about filling the answer with alcohol. He takes a deep breath before rattling off an answer.

"Just say you don't mind, that's all."

[lilac-gold]

Mind Control

AI-less Whumptober: Day 6 Conditioning | Mind control | Forced to hurt someone else @ailesswhumptober

Fandom: OMORI Rating: Teen Word Count: 2625 Summary: Under Bossman, Hero is a puppet. He has no say in what his body does, and no way to resist when it starts to hurt his little siblings. AO3 LINK

“Hero, I want you… To take over the Last Resort for me.”

It had begun small, inconspicuous. Everything had been fine, and while Hero had been apprehensive, sure, he was hardly out of his mind with worry. He’d reminded Jawsum of his age, but the businessman was firm in his decision, luggage held tightly in-hand.

“I know you can handle this, Hero,” Jawsum told him, face softening a little as he averted his eyes. Jawsum wasn’t a fan of open affection. “You’re resilient, and smart, and I trust you. I’ve spent way too long at this business, growing my net worth, improving my stocks, but in the end, what’s it worth? This building’s falling apart, and now that I have a successor, I finally realise that I don’t have to stay here anymore. After all, I’m a billionaire!” Jawsum laughed heartily, then something guarded crossed his expression and he beckoned Hero closer. “Just… Stay true to yourself, and you’ll be fine.”

As Hero processed the alligator’s words, Jawsum snapped his fingers, and a Gator handed him a bright red tie. “Your tie, bossman.”

Bossman. Hero wasn’t sure he liked that. It felt too professional, too uptight. That wasn’t him, and the Gators knew that wasn’t him. Hero had befriended plenty of them, and they knew he wouldn’t care about titles like that. Still, he said nothing at the term of address, awkwardly fastening the tie around his neck instead. As he did, a strange feeling of wrongness sweeping through him. It was like he’d been dunked in a pool of ice, a shiver overcoming him as he fidgeted with the tie nervously.

“Lookin’ like a real champ, Hero,” Jawsum offered him a thumbs up. “Don’t tell the others, but you always were my favourite. For what it’s worth… I’m sorry.”

Hero blinked in confusion. “Sorry for wha–”

“It’s vacation time, baby!” Jawsum interrupted hastily, standing atop his desk. “Ol’ Jawsum is gonna have the time of his life!”

Hero noted the absence of a ‘Mr’ before his name. Wow. He really was serious about giving up the business.

Jawsum laughed one final time, then headed to the elevator, almost running towards it. Hero wasn’t quite sure why he was rushing so much, but figured his bo– his former boss must just be excited. Soon enough, it was just he and his kids left in the office.

“Woah!” Kel exclaimed cheerfully. “I can’t believe my big brother is a boss now! Way to go!”

Hero smiled nervously, still not quite sure about this whole ‘boss’ thing. It… Didn’t quite suit him. He was all for helping people out, and there was no denying his enterprising prowess, but being in a position of authority meant having to order people around. That didn’t sit right with him. Besides, Hero always worried about making big decisions, not wanting to upset anyone. As boss, he’d have to make those decisions all the time. Uneasily, he tugged on the tie again, the fabric feeling just a little too tight around his throat.

“Your tie looks great, Hero!” Aubrey beamed, eyes sparkling. “How does it feel?”

“It feels…” Hero shifted uncomfortably, the tie seeming to tighten yet again until it pressed against his windpipe. Again, that cold sensation flooded through him, and he tried to swallow through his dry throat. “Alright… I guess,” he finished hesitantly. That was a lie. It felt wrong.

“Try snapping your fingers!” Aubrey encouraged enthusiastically, and Omori nodded minutely beside her.

“Okay. You mean like–”

Hero was about to oblige, lifting his hand into the air. Then, ice ran through his veins, freezing his arm in place as his words cut themselves off, Hero’s breath escaping him in a visible puff. The tie squeezed his throat, something pressing against his mind that shouldn’t be there, and Hero distantly felt himself fall to his knees.

“Hero!” 

“What’s wrong?!”

Aubrey and Kel’s voices overlapped, shocked and concerned. That was reasonable, really, Hero thought as he wheezed on the ground. His lungs were being choked, his throat clogging with pain and the threat of oncoming tears, and a headache hit him at full force as he clutched at his temples.

“The– the tie–” Hero forced out, then another spike of agony shot through his head and he doubled over further, every limb seeming to tremble. He didn’t know what was happening, terror ploughing through him, destroying every ounce of rational thinking in its path.

Then, suddenly, it all stopped.

Hero felt a slow exhale leave his lips, no longer a concerning smoky white. The cold feeling dimmed a little, but the pressure against his throat and brain vanished, and Hero absently adjusted his tie, not even realising he was doing so at first. He opened his mouth to tell his friends he was okay.

Well. Hero tried to open his mouth, but it remained firmly, frighteningly shut. Then, he tried to stand, to blink, to move, to do anything. His body didn’t respond to a thing, and panic built within him as it piloted himself, standing up and walking behind the desk. 

“Hero?” Aubrey asked uncertainly. “Are you… Okay now?”

“Heh,” a small laugh escaped his throat, unlike any sound Hero had ever made before. It was unfamiliar in his mouth, seeming to belong to someone else entirely as it built and built. “Heh, heh…”

“Umm… Hero?” Aubrey tried again after a second, sounding worried.

“You seem a little too happy there,” Kel sounded unimpressed, but some sort of hidden concern lingered within his tone. Hero knew his brother far too well for Kel to be able to keep secrets from him for long.

“Happy?” His voice said suddenly, loud and clipped. Derisive, even. Hero felt horror swell within him as a too-wide smile split across his face, making his cheeks ache. “Don’t be silly, Kel.”

Hero would have recoiled if he were able to at the pure patronisation dripping from his voice. That wasn’t him, they had to know that. That wasn’t him. Hero didn’t know what was going on, but it was awful.

Then, his eyes widened manically, and the grin somehow widened even further.

“Bosses don’t feel emotion!” He heard himself exclaim, a high giggle rising in the back of his throat. This was not good. This was very not good.

“Oh no!” Hero heard Kel cry out. “Hero’s gone mad with power!”

At that, his body did laugh, that strange, unfamiliar chuckle leaving him yet again. “Not quite, Kel. Not quite.”

Now that he could see his siblings’ faces again, Hero looked over each of them frantically. Kel and Aubrey each exchanged a troubled glance, Omori stood firmly between them with narrowed eyes. Why couldn’t things just go nicely for once? Not a single one of their trips so far had ended up in anything less than disaster. Captain Spaceboy’s alter ego coming out, Sweetheart imprisoning them all in her dungeon, the Slime Girls trying to dissect his little brother… Heck, even their initial employment at the Last Resort had wound up with Jawsum refusing to let Hero go, setting Pluto on him in a fight. Hero should’ve expected this sort of thing by now.

“Hey, I’ve got an idea!” His voice said smoothly, far more confident than Hero ever was usually. He sounded suave, commanding, authoritative. The sort of person Hero himself would usually struggle to argue with. “Now that Hero’s the boss, why don’t you all come work for us? Of course, I won’t offer any pay, but I see a great opportunity for growth in the future.”

Hero’s kids ignored the belittling tone to his voice, determination and suspicion crossing their faces. Aubrey crossed her arms. “What do you mean ‘us’?”

“Heh,” a snigger left his lips. “I’ve been looking around in his brain; Hero sure does think you kids are smart. A sharp little girl, aren’t you, Aubrey? That’s an excellent quality in an employee. I’m sure you’d be very useful to the company– these two, however? I’m not quite so sure, no matter what Hero seems to think. It would probably be easier to just get rid of them.”

Panic flooded through him. He needed to get control back, now. He couldn’t let whatever this… Thing was hurt his kids.

“Hey! I’d make a great employee,” Kel huffed, a defensive look clear as day across his face. “Who are you, anyway?!”

“You can call me Bossman,” Hero’s voice told them, and realisation dawned within him. Oh. So that was what the Gator Guy had meant. A sinking feeling began within him. Did… Did Jawsum want this to happen? “It seems Hero’s finally catching on. He’s a little… Indisposed at the moment, you see,” Bossman kept that grin across his face, tapping his forehead. “But I have no doubt that he’ll be a great tool for the business to progress.”

“You leave him alone!” Aubrey cried out, eyebrows turning downwards sharply in anger.

“That would be rather difficult, Aubrey, considering that we now share a brain,” Bossman told her, voice dripping with condescension. Hero’s heart would have leapt if it still responded to him. No. No, this couldn’t be permanent. “As much as it bothers me to admit it, I’m afraid I need him, just as I used to need Jawsum.”

Nothing happened.

Bossman was under his skin, using his body like a puppet. Hero was forced to move along with him, to dance in whatever way the entity desired him to. The feeling was like nothing he'd ever experienced before, invasive and controlling. Hero was completely helpless to stop Bossman doing whatever he wanted.

“So, Aubrey, Omori, Kel ,” Bossman smirked, snapping his fingers. “What’s it to be? Either you work for me…” Gator Guys flooded the room, standing at attention and ready for any command ‘Hero’ was about to give them. “...Or we do things the hard way.”

“I don’t know about you guys, but I’m always up for a challenge!” Kel turned to his friends, and Hero felt a disconcerting rush of affection, pride and anxiety for his little brother. “Let’s do this!”

Aubrey and Omori nodded either side of him, Aubrey setting her jaw as Omori readied his knife. They needed to leave, Hero couldn’t bear it if he hurt them! He had to fight, to force his way back in possession of his own body, as impossible as it seemed. He didn’t so much as know where to start, but that didn’t stop him from trying.

“Disappointing, but not unexpected,” Bossman sighed, sounding completely unbothered as he snapped his fingers again. “I hope you are prepared for defeat.” More and more workers exited the elevator– how they knew Bossman had called was beyond Hero, but there were more important things on his mind. He felt his lips curve upwards into another cruel smile. “Enjoy the show, Hero.”

And they began to fight. Hero willed his body to stop, wished he was able to wrench back control somehow. But his attempts were fruitless, and each snap of his fingers felt like a death sentence, and the Gators just kept coming. Eventually, all three of his kids looked exhausted, on the brink of becoming toast. Hero was their healer. He was supposed to keep them safe. He couldn’t lose them too.

Despite Hero’s pitiful attempts to resist, his fists swung at the trio, growing bruised and bloodied. He could feel everything, from the ache of his cheeks to the unnatural straightness of his spine. Bossman surveyed the damage with a sort of clinical intrigue. “Ah, it is nice to feel properly again. Jawsum was getting far too old, and he was never much to my taste. I much prefer this body.”

As was inevitable, Aubrey, Kel and Omori were defeated, three pieces of toast falling to the floor. Hero felt hatred and horror swell inside of him like a crashing crescendo, both at himself and Bossman. He’d done that to them. His fingers, his contracts, his fists. His kids were toast, and it was his fault. He should have fought harder.

“Leave, all of you. And throw that toast out. I have no need for useless materials,” Bossman ordered coldly, and even more fear flooded through Hero. Bossman rolled his eyes once all the Gators were gone, observing his nails as he sat down at the desk and pulled a mirror from one drawer. “You are far more soft-hearted than anyone I have inhabited before, Hero,” Bossman said disdainfully. “Not a proper trait of a businessman in the slightest. Oh sure, you have the skill, but I have the confidence. Don’t worry, Hero, I’ll take care of everything,” Bossman purred, staring into the mirror nastily as he surveyed his new face, running a pale finger down Hero’s jawline, tilting his head this way and that. “As pathetic as you are, you do have a pretty face. That will be useful when attracting investors; things go far more smoothly when they feel they are talking to someone they can trust, and who is more trustworthy than a naive child in a boss’ suit?” Bossman snickered. “Heh. This is for the best.”

Fury boiled within him. Hero was a person, his kids were people! They didn’t deserve to be treated this way! Besides, he’d just gotten Basil back. He couldn’t lose everyone. He couldn’t.

“A people pleaser, hm? Not generally a trait of a businessman, but I cannot deny that Jawsum was right in seeing something in you. Of course, I care not about others in the slightest, and I am a far superior boss than you will ever be because of that. People are a hindrance,” Bossman looked over at the photo of Hero and Jawsum that the alligator had kept on his desk. “We do not need Kel, or Aubrey, or Omori, or Basil, or Mari, or any other irrelevant relation you had before. They are useless to me, and that makes them useless to you too, Hero. I doubt it will take you long to understand the rules: you seem easy enough to mould.”

Bossman scoffed at that. Hero got the strong feeling that Bossman hated him. It was a good thing that loathing was entirely requited.

“You’re so weak. Pathetic,” Bossman repeated disapprovingly. “Far too soft, and agreeable. From looking over your past encounters with Duchess Sweetheart alone, it is easy to tell that you cannot adequately handle yourself. Now that we are sharing a body, that simply will not do. I will not permit anyone touching you. To touch you is to touch me, and I despise that almost as much as I despise you. You are the very antithesis of myself, Hero. Compassionate, sweet, neighbourly, sensitive…” Bossman listed mockingly. “Ridiculous. Bosses do not feel anything as frivolous as emotion.”

‘What do you mean, “sharing a body”?’ Hero queried cautiously within his own head. Did he still have some semblance of control? He really hoped so. Then, he could save his siblings!

“Ah-ah-ah, slow down, Hero. We may be sharing a body, but I rule it,”  Bossman said spitefully. “You are my subordinate. You are expected to act as such. I will do what I wish, and letting you have a brief bit of freedom is lenient of me. I am far superior to someone like you, and you are fully aware of that. There will be no attempts at resisting, or rescue, or any form of fighting. You are good at following orders, so that is what you will do.”

Hero didn’t respond, mind whirring away in search of a loophole, some sort of an escape. He couldn’t let this happen, he refused. The images of his kids’ scared, battered faces flickered through his mind. He wouldn’t fail them again. He had to resist. An amused smile quirked up Bossman’s lips. “I have a feeling that this is the start of an excellent partnership, Hero.”

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[the-broken-pen]

hey!! Here’s a writing prompts for you: a human accidentally meets a sly, villainous vampire at a bar or club and the vampire messes with their mind (compulsion, hypnosis, or something else) to get their blood?

Hello! Thank you so much for the ask!

Someone entered the club, and Hannah felt it. The crowd got a bit quieter, as if someone had lowered the volume, and she turned to look—

A hand caught her chin, turning it back towards the bartender as its owner settled beside them.

“What’s a lovely thing like you doing in a place like this?” Their voice was smooth in an uncomfortable way, in scalpel precision and well oiled perfection.

The noise of the club slammed back into place.

She blinked, fingers cold around her glass.

“A night club?” Her voice felt rough, and she wasn’t sure why. The newcomer eyed her, and she was’t sure if it was appreciation or something a shade darker.

Her fingers began to ache around their glass. “As far as pickup lines go, that was spectacularly awful. Maybe start with your name next time.”

“Ezekiel”

Hannah looked over, and found Ezekiel grinning, mouth sharp like barbed wire.

“How biblical,” she murmured, and the bartender refilled their glass. Ezekiel simply watched, hands empty. The bartender didn’t offer to take their order. Ezekiel didn’t try to place one, either.

“You never answered my question.”

Hannah frowned, brow crinkling. “You mean your awful pickup line? I wasn’t aware that type of statement garnered a response. Or any type of favorable reaction, generally.”

Ezekiel simply smiled, and her heart jumped.

She sighed. “Enjoying a night out. Having fun. What does it look like?”

Ezekiel leaned closer, close enough that she could almost feel their breath against her ear, but not quite.

“It doesn’t look like fun,” they murmured. She stared into her glass.

“And this is your problem, how?”

She could feel them smiling.

“Pretty things shouldn’t be sad.”

She scoffed. “If you go away, I’ll give you enough money to buy a better book of pickup lines.”

This time, Ezekiel laughed.

“I don’t need help in that department, trust me,” they leaned against the bar, and took her drink from her. They sipped from it, too pretty and too sexual and too gorgeous, and smiled around the rim of it. “Do you think you aren’t pretty, Hannah?”

She jerked her head to look at them.

“I didn’t tell you my name,” she said, and it was entirely too close to a yelp. Her breath stuck in her throat like a rock, and she grabbed for her bag—

“It’s on your napkin,” Ezekiel soothed.

It wasn’t. She knew it wasn’t.

The air felt too hot, like she was drowning, and the lights looked the same but they were the wrong color.

Her napkin flickered when she looked at it, and her name was there.

Her heart slowed but her gut clenched.

“That wasn’t there,” she said shakily, and Ezekiel watched her with something that was a bit too hungry to be concern.

“Why would I lie?”

Hannah laughed, and it was panicked, and she stood up to leave.

“I think I should go—“ her eyes caught Ezekiel’s, and her temples twinged with pain, and she blinked, and she was sitting down.

“Are you alright, Hannah?”

The chair under her swiveled a bit, and she looked over at Ezekiel.

“Yeah, why?”

The bartender refilled her drink.

“You just seemed a bit panicked, is all.”

There was something close to amusement in Ezekiel’s eyes, so she laughed.

“Why would I be panicked?”

They grinned.

“Question of the year, love.”

She laughed again, and the world fritzed, like a bad signal television laying two images over one another, and snapped back to normal.

Her head hurt. The glass was too loud when she set it down.

“I think I’ve had enough to drink,” she said honestly, and it came out too loud. She put a stack of cash on the bar, and stood up.

“It was lovely to meet you—“ she caught Ezekiel’s eye, and she blinked, and she was sitting down.

They were laughing.

“What happened?” She asked, and her tongue felt numb, as if it were the wrong size for her mouth.

Ezekiel smiled, and for a moment, she was reminded of the big cats at the zoo, with that intelligent gleam of their eyes, the sharpness of their teeth.

She blinked and it was gone.

“Nothing, love.”

For some reason, the nickname made her warm, bubbly like champagne.

She laughed.

Ezekiel leaned forward, and she shivered.

“Why don’t we get out of here? It’s a bit loud.”

The noise was deafening.

She nodded.

“Yeah, let me just call a cab—“ she punched the numbers into her phone, glancing at Ezekiel, and when she looked back, her phone was gone.

Her head hurt, and something was wrong, horribly wrong.

“Where’s my—“

“I have it, love,” Ezekiel said. They tucked it into their pocket. “Come now, let’s go.”

She didn’t want to, and she didn’t know why she didn’t want to, but she opened her mouth to protest and found herself wrapping her arm in Ezekiel’s outside.

She jerked, but they didn’t let go.

“Alright there, love?”

“Let go of me,” she hissed, and they glanced down, amused.

“You’re very resistant to glamour, do you know that?”

Hannah grimaced, tugging at her arm.

“Let me go, or I’ll scream—“ she glanced out, because if they were by the club, then countless people would hear her scream. And somewhere among them would be someone who would help.

They weren’t outside the club. She had no idea where they were.

“What,” she breathed, and Ezekiel hummed.

“Resistant, but not immune,” they commented. They eyed her, examining her face, and tutted. “Still on the brink though.”

They turned to face her, keeping her arm clasped in their own.

“Hannah, love, I need you to do something for me,” her blood felt sluggish, and she wanted to start screaming, but her mouth wouldn’t move, and she was so so cold—

She nodded.

Ezekiel grinned, tilting her chin up, before placing his lips just below ear.

“Hannah darling,” he murmured, and her mind was a mass of colors and shapes and she was on the edge of being lost and she was scared and she didn’t want to let go and she wanted to go home. “Fall.”

She woke up in the ER.