#you can’t even handle someone WEARING pink

[subskz]

OKAY!!! THIS ONE IS A VAULT THOUGHT! A PINK PIECE (FROM THE VAULT)!!!

Temperature Play with Yenie >:3

Liiiiissssten.. listen... listen.

We all know how sensitive bbygirl is; a little touch to the neck and he.is.SQUIRMING!!!! A little grabby to his waist & he's jumping 10ft in the air!! Skittish... skitty ... >:)

So... sit with me and picture it:

Laying him between your legs, his back to your chest... running an ice cube down his chest and torso. His pretty little gasps mixed with little jerky movements as he squirms in your arms.

Obviously you have to (say it with me now!!!) take some pictures of it, obvi to commemorate the moment in time.. so just think Polaroid quality pic of his chest & torso, cum over his tummy.

Just food for thought. :)

a yeni pinkpiece? just what the doctor ordered 😽 speaking of skitty did u see his new pfp on ig…he did it for you

the way innie throws his head back the moment someone touches his neck is so adorable he really is crazy sensitive there, poor baby can’t even handle wearing a choker hehe. i love the position of having him between your legs so you can feel all the ways his muscles twitch against you and every shudder that ripples through his body hehe…and can u imagine the cute, breathy gasp you’d get out of him if you circled over his pretty nipples with the ice cube 💓 that combined w the feeling of the melted water dripping down his skin and tickling his stomach would have him writhing around so helplessly

ofc it’s not a pink original without some photos for keepsake~ the sight of his flushed chest and tummy all glazed w water and his cum is definitely worth saving ♡

[coryosbaby]

SENSITIVE . Luke Castellan x fem! Reader

Content warning . Broken bones and submissive Luke <3

Whenever someone uses a word to describe Luke Castellan, it’s always this: strong.

He’s the greatest swordsman in camp, after all. He puffs out his chest and slathers his aura in pride, outdoing every opponent.

Except for when it comes to you.

He’s— well, Luke is a sensitive boy. No one knows that, of course, except for you.

He shows his true self, now, on a rainy night in your cabin. Many campers have gone to dinner, and Luke had decided to stay back with you, curled up in your bed.

“(Y/N),” he whines, as you finish your night routine with a drastic slowness. “It hurts.”

You almost roll your eyes at your boyfriend’s antics as you lather on a bit of moisturizer. After a long trip and fall down a flight of stairs—ironic, really, considering his stealthiness— the boy had broken his hand. A small cast is wrapped around it, little phrases that you and other peers had written into it rainbow in color.

“You’re being dramatic.”

His lips form into a pout.

“‘M not,” he replies. His unbroken hand pats the empty spot beside him. “Come here, baby. I miss you.”

You can’t help the tug in your chest at his sweet tone. You do the last steps of your routine, sighing as you move out of your vanity chair and slide onto your silky pink sheets.

“C’mere, you big baby.”

He grins, pressing a kiss to your cheek as you bring him into your embrace, letting him wrap his big arms around you.

“You smell nice,” he compliments, humming. “Like a pretty flower.”

You giggle. His fingers move up to play with your hair.

“And your hair is so pretty. I love it. And your eyes…”

“Are you saying this because you feel sentimental, or because you want me to make out with you?”

“Both.”

You scoff, pulling him in for a kiss. He reciprocates eagerly, and before you know it his tongue slides warm and wet into your mouth. His hand moves up to your tits, softly groping.

And when you look down, you realize why he’s so clingy. A small smirk spreads across your lips.

“I think you need a little bit of help, sweet boy.”

His cheeks, a dusty pink, turn even darker now. You take in the sight of the large bulge straining against his zipper. He lets out a nervous chuckle, though it doesn’t do much to stifle his nerves. His broken hand still stays trembling underneath your own.

“You don’t have to,” he replies, averting his gaze from you. “I’m not.. I mean.. I can’t—”

“I know.”

You don’t need to say anything else. Your palm splays out over his hardened cock, and he whines, a tiny breathless thing in the back of his throat that makes your panties soak with wetness.

“Mommy,” he utters. “I need your hands,” And then, bordering on a choked sob, “Please? I’ll be good, I swear…”

Oh, it’s so easy to get him worked up. So, so incredibly easy.

You hum, flicking the zipper of his jeans up and down playfully. His brunette locks are turned up and disheveled, and it’s the most adorable thing you’ve ever seen.

“Poor baby. It’s been a long time since you’ve touched yourself, hasn’t it ? Four, maybe five days?”

That was the last time he had fucked you, the day he had broken his hand. Your schedules were both so busy that neither of you had time to do anything since. Luke’s eyebrows press together, and a pout forms on his lips as he nods in confirmation. You press a kiss to his jaw, then another. He’s wearing the cologne you like, and a shirt you had once said looked particularly good on him. He had made his way into your room asking for this, you’re sure. He was asking to get all worked up and get you to handle it.

He just wants mommy’s attention, doesn’t he?

You pull his fly down, much to his excitement, a “thank you” falling sweetly off of his soft lips. Pushing his underwear down, his hardened cock slaps up to its fullest attention against his stomach. His balls are drawn up tight above the fabric of his briefs, full and ready to be emptied.

Oh, how worked up the poor thing is. Wet like a girl, cock dripping pre cum and the tip flushed an almost deep scarlett. He’s well endowed, much to your pleasure.

Giving his tip a teasing flick with two of your fingers, you watch as his eyes shut tight and he moans. It sounds precious, a choir full of angels singing. You wish you could hear it over and over again.

He isn’t looking at you, now, and that makes you annoyed. Your hand slaps his length and he lets out a pained yelp.

“Eyes on me. Do you understand?”

His bottom lip wobbles. A sensitive boy he is, despite his usually hard and cold demeanor, and his mommy’s disapproval makes him want to cry. He nods, his teary eyes staring deep into your own as you spit into your palm and take him into your hand.

You start by thumbing over his tip, rubbing softly into his slit. Watching his breathing increase and the way his head tilts back is absolutely enticing.

“Is that good, baby?” You ask softly. He nods eagerly, his hand shaking in his lap. He tries not to clench his broken fist together but that proves difficult, and he lets out a pained cry when he presses down on it. You coo to him, almost mocking, as you snake your arm behind his back and take the cast into your free hand.

“Don’t hurt yourself, okay? Just hold on to me,” your voice is a purr in the shell of his ear. “Need my boy big and strong again.”

“Yeah,” he breathes out, his voice high pitched and whiny. “Yeah, mommy, yeah…”

Your hand wraps around the fullness of his length, twisting with a flick of your wrist. His forehead bumps against yours as his open mouth tries to land on your lips. You think he’s trying to kiss you, and it’s absolutely endearing. He can’t help but desperately shove his tongue into the warm confines of your mouth. You giggle at that, pulling him in for a sloppy, wet kiss.

When your lips leave his, it’s so you can bite and suckle pretty marks onto his neck. You lave over the reddish bites, humming as you cover his throat in them.

Other women at camp, be damned. He’s yours.

It isn’t long, with a gasping mouth and fluttering lashes, that he’s close.

“I’m gonna cum,” Luke murmurs, sugary sweet. “I’m g-gonna… momma, momma..”

He buries his face in your neck, salty tears pressing into your skin, and his cock spurts rope after rope of warm, sticky spend all over your hand. You watch with a smile, pressing a kiss into his hair as he fucks his hips up and mewls against you. Your heart flutters at the sound, your body on fire just from watching him come undone.

He sighs when you milk the last few remnants of cum from his spent cock. His curls stick to his forehead, sweat dripping down his brow. What a sight.

You find Luke’s shirt somewhere on the floor and wipe your hand on it. His nose crinkles up.

“That’s gross.”

Rolling your eyes and trying not to smile, you sit down beside him again.

“It’s your mess, Luke.”

He shrugs, his hand going up to push your hair out of your face. He gives you a pretty, lopsided smile. You kiss the scar underneath his eye, and his eyes cloud over again.

Always so sensitive.

He lays down on the bed, signaling you over. His lips find yours again, chaste but still nice, and when he’s using free hand to make you straddle his face, a gasp emits from you.

“Luke. It’s okay, you don’t have to.”

“Want to,” he murmurs, sliding your panties to the side. “You took care of me, momma. Let me take care of you.”

:: @mysticpenguincreation @nightmare-niko @iheartinkonpaper @claireyberryy @becauseseaotters @emmalandry @princesstiti14 @aerangi

[taintedtort]

Hihii...!!! i really love ur HCs and i wanted to ask if you're comfortable with these types of character writing, what r ur headcanons on kenma, kuro, tsuki n maybe suna would act when they're drunk ? like would they be a bit different than their usual self ? sorry to ask a lot but im more curious on ur thoughts on kenma ;; .. write whatever u can, idm ! thank u ehehe have a good one ! >_< <3

" LET'S GET DRUNK! "

summary. they’re drunk lolz

characters. kenma, kuroo, tsukishima

warnings. afab!reader, drinking/alcohol, post timeskip!!!^^

a/n. yesss i love kenma, many thoughts on him!! he’s my favorite!!! didn’t add suna because i don’t really know his character that well :( added a kenma bonus to make up for it tho!

KENMA

☆ i think he’d be a sleepy drunk. he's out as soon as his head hits any soft surface— maybe even before! i feel like he also acts grumpier, mumbling complaints when you wake him up and try to move him (he was passed out on your shoulder in the car, you have to get him to bed!)

☆ his face gets kinda pink, like he’s blushing. he’s pale, so it’s more noticeable than it would be on someone else. his eyes get droopy and his face sort of relaxes, so he looks mean and tired.

☆ he stubbles slightly, but he surprisingly manages to maneuver himself pretty well for a drunk person. just don’t ask him to do a cartwheel or anything… he couldn’t even do one of those while sober.

☆ he doesn’t drink often, so he’s a light weight… plus he’s skinny and on the smaller side, so he doesn’t have to drink much to get a buzz. he’s usually responsible though, but sometimes he celebrates too hard (with a bit of a push from kuroo)

☆ he doesn’t get any more talkative, but he’s less filtered that normal. i don’t think he’d be too flirty or mean, but if he got drunk enough he may compliment you a couple times.

BONUS:

☆ the type to get so drunk he forgets who you are. you come find him to pick him up after someone called you, and he’s face down on the table. you nudge him, trying to gently guide him to stand, but he’s immediately swatting you away, grumbling about how he has a girlfriend.

"leave m' alone— got a girlfriend already," he slurs, raising his head to drunkenly glare at you. his eyes narrow further when you laugh.

"kenma… i’m you’re girlfriend," you tell him, always finding it a bit amusing when he gets this drunk. he’s not too much of a hassle though, since he usually knocks right out when you get home and tuck him in.

he's silent for a moment, just staring at you up and down. he wears the same expression he has whenever he buys a new video game, excited and in awe.

"really…?" he asks, a hopeful tone in his voice. now that he’s looking at you… you are really pretty. he really hopes you're his girlfriend.

"yes, really. i’m gonna take you home, okay? cmon," you urge, gently grabbing his arm and helping him stand. he complies this time, his eyebrows raising.

"we live together?" he questions, the situation just getting better and better to him.

"we do," you confirm, another giggle leaving you. it doesn’t really hurt your feelings that he doesn’t remember, you find it more amusing and entertaining than anything.

"… im so lucky," you hear him whisper under his breath, looking at you as you guide him to the car.

KUROO

☆ he'd be a funny drunk i think… a bit of a handful, and is entertaining at first, but eventually gets annoying. his emotions kind of double when he’s intoxicated, and he’s also kind of erratic. really energetic after his first few drinks, but if he’s extra drunk, he’s more emotional.

☆ his eyes get a little watery, but that’s about it. he actually looks more lively while he’s drunk, because he makes more facial expressions.

☆ he can’t stand straight at all, especially if he’s had more than a couple drinks. needs support to walk, otherwise he'll fall. he’s heavy though, and puts majority of his weight on you, so sometimes you end up falling anyway.

☆ he can handle his alcohol pretty well. takes him a few drinks to get a buzz, but he doesn’t usually stop there. mostly drinks to celebrate things, or at parties. never drinks alone, that’s just boring and sad to him.

☆ probably asks you random stupid questions like "what number am i?" or "what animal would i be?" (follows up that second question with "would you still love me if i was that animal?")

☆ i think he’s more talkative, but he speaks faster and his words are kinda jumbled, so it’s hard to understand him sometimes. he gets a lot more sappy, constantly complimenting you and telling you that he loves you (he does that all the time already)

"y're sooo pretty, love you s' much."

TSUKISHIMA

☆ not that much different than when he’s sober, honestly. he gets more mellow, surprisingly, though it might be because alcohol makes him a little sleepy, similar to kenma. he isn’t quick to fall asleep, but he’s not energetic and jumping around.

☆ his face is more relaxed, which makes him look even more intimidating and mean. his eyes get a little red around the edges, but that’s mostly it.

☆ stubbles quite a bit and holds things for support. if you try to help him, he’ll snip and you and complain that he doesn’t need your help to walk. (he does, and eventually gives in and leans on you a bit when he almost falls on his face)

☆ also a lightweight. doesn’t go drinking unless he’s invited, and even then he’s usually the designated driver. on top of that, he hates being hung over, and he hates throwing up, so he rarely gets super drunk. kuroo tries to persuade him sometimes, but the most he gets his a little tipsy.

☆ probably gets into debates with people about certain topics that he likes, arguing with them about facts and opinions. he usually wins. even when he’s drunk, he’s still quick witted.

☆ he fights you on everything, insisting he’s fine and "not drunk" whenever you try to help him. you end up ignoring his complaints and just assist him with changing and getting into bed anyway. he’s asleep pretty quickly, especially if you run his back/scalp.

"i don’t need help— i'm not even that drunk!"

[redstarwriting]

hobie brown with a pink gf

hobie brown x badass pink!fem!reader hcs

request?: yes

request: “HI RED!!!! idk if you’ve done this already but i really wanna see what hobie would be like with a badass pink!gf. like she wears pink demonias nd stuff but can like hold her own yk? i hope this makes sense LMAO”

requested by: anon

warnings:  language, mentions of stealing, alluding to s*xual harassment from men, cops

a/n: omggg the only person i could think of with this request is chrissy chlapecka wearing her all pink outfits and telling everyone to hit men with their cars LMAO thank you for the request, anon🖤

───────────────────────────────────

- givin me chrissy chlapecka vibes - he loves it - listen - if you have any type of distinct style or attitude going against what most people believe - or one that challenges any type of authority or societal beliefs - Hobie immediately respects you - doesn’t necessarily mean he will be best friends with you - but he respects people who he can see have that kind of rebellious “fuck the patriarchy” attitude - so when he saw you - all pink outfit - pink makeup - pink accessories - pink boots that look like they could kill a man - exactly what you intend with said boots btw - he respected it - especially since you seemed to be taking the stereotypical “girl color” (whatever the fuck that means) and putting a spin on it they wouldn’t like - and girl when he saw you kick some man’s ass - all pretty in pink? - he was like ooh yeah - oh she’s the one - he loves to steal anything and everything pink that he sees - all for you - and he does - this style you have is the definition of him saying “Wear whatever you want, I can fight.” - and in response - you just scoff - “I’ll wear whatever I want, I can fight.” - he loves it - he loves that you’re always ready to stomp someone’s face with your pretty little boots - the amount of time he’s actually had to hold you back is amazing - and he doesn’t hold you back because he thinks you won’t beat the person’s ass - or because he wants you to be the ”better person” or whatever the fuck that is - but because he doesn't want the piggies getting any ideas when it comes to you - he knows you can hold your own - but he can’t help but be a little protective of you - and he just doesn’t trust cops - they’d see you looking all pretty and try something - not on his watch - he’ll take over if there are cops around - but if it’s just a slimy man? - he’ll still be there, ready to step in and kill the guy at any time - but you can handle yourself - so he lets you handle yourself - he loves when you paint his nails for him - he has so many shades of pink nail polish now - and you’ll paint his nails all pink all the time - at first, he was kinda like hmmmmm am i gonna like this? - spoiler - he did - he still paints his nails black all the time but when you ask to put some pink in there he’s all for it - he doesn’t realize his flat is slowly becoming more and more pink as you start to move in - because he doesn’t necessarily care all that much - he really likes the color now - but when Gwen comments on it he’s like… oh yeah - “Hobie? Have you found a new love for the color pink?”   “What?”   “Your place. There’s so much pink in here.”   “Oh… (Y/n) and I are gettin’ serious. She’s been movin’ in. But yeah, I do fancy the color pink, now. What of it?” - he does have a favorite shade of pink that you wear - but he loves when you wear all pink - so he acts like he doesn’t have a favorite - but he’s bad at it - cause the minute you wear a bright obnoxious shade of pink? - he’s gone - he’s simpin - he’s in love - he will compliment you more than he already does - which is a lot - and have his hands all over you - needless to say you’ve incorporated that color into your wardrobe a lot more - he just loves your style - and your attitude - the two of you are the government’s worst enemy honestly - and even though you’re a badass - you don’t need a man or anyone for that matter - you have a soft spot for your anarchic asshole - and sometimes you just like to see him be the badass - cause he sure can be - you’re a “don’t fuck with us” couple - a “fuck around and find out” couple - and the two of you wouldn’t want it any other way <3

───────────────────────────────────

[salaciousdoll]

   ·  ·  ·  ꔫ  ·  ·  ·  Studio Love    ·  ·  ·  ꔫ  ·  ·  ·

･˳ . ⋆ starring South Terano x chubby! Fem! reader ･˳ . ⋆

୨⍣୧ ⁺⁎˚ ⋆━━ Warnings: husband! South Terano, wife!reader, chubby reader, professional MMA fighter/ music producer south, smut, heavy smut, oral both f&m receiving, squirting, hairy pussy agenda being pushed here, pubic hair mentioned on south as well, breeding kink( heavy), dacryphillia, gagging, spit in mouth, kissing with spit in mouth, body worship, pet names( baby, meu amor, doll, princess, etc.), speaking Portuguese( briefly), brief mention of stretch marks on body, heavy dirty talking, size kink( major), daddy kink( brief), south is 7’5 in this. missionary/ mating press, moaning in the mic for a song( don’t worry, not directly into it), vivid description of pussy and dick, uncircumcised South, Heavy/ big dick South, soft but usual south, cum eating/drinking, sloppy top, praise kink, degrading kink( slutty whore), hint at the end( catch it if you can), inspired by p power by gunna, overall just nastiness. ୨⍣୧ ⁺⁎˚ ⋆━━ Word count: 5.8k

18+, Minors do not interact

The Pristine rain was heavily knocking against your kitchen window like an unwelcome guest banging on your cold prehung, glass pivot door to yours and South’s mansion. You always loved the taste and smell of spring so the rain didn’t bother you as you had on your light pink apron while cleaning the greens in your big white pot for dinner tonight. 

South loved your cooking and sometimes pitched in to help you cook. He loved getting behind you with his big, doughy but calloused hands holding your supple and cavernous thighs or gripping your love handles just not too roughly. Whenever you cooked he was the first to taste because he stayed glued to your body like a sticky bug on your clothes in the spring and summer— you have to physically pull or shove him away.

But could you really blame him because when he’s cooking, you're behind him telling him to put more seasoning or even water in the pot. Sometimes he gets frustrated at you because he thinks you’re trying to tell him that he can’t cook and he’s not Brazilian for no reason— that was always his favorite line to use on you when you coach his cooking.

 Other than getting on his nerves, you chubby hands always osculated on the inner of his black tee he usually wears around the house— either that or no shirt at all. You always caressed his abs or just wrap your plump arms around his torso with your face squished against his back. If you guessed what the love language was, you would have to say physical touching, of course. 

You two confided in each other about any and everything. He always placed little kisses on your hand or forehead whenever you two are next to each other. He doesn’t care who’s staring at you two, it could be an old lady or newborn baby for all he cares, he’s going to love on you until you grow sick and old. He loved the feeling of your skin on his. You loved the feeling of his hands and warm body next to yours. Minami was someone you were told to cherish and you did that every morning, night, and even in the evening. 

Whenever you were feeling down, South always made you feel a warm solace with his boisterous laugh, his light but funny jokes, and his loudness in general. You know when he is in the house when you hear his loud laugh. From just his voice and laugh, all your problems go away. South didn’t even have to do the things he does when you’re feeling down— things like taking you out to walk in the glorious spring sun or if it’s night, the alluring celestial body in the sable night empyrean always makes your heart warm. South feared the day where you would completely shut him out if you went down your spiral, yet you always reassured him that you’re never going to shut him out. Not a chance in hell you’ll do that when he was hot to your cold. 

South loves what you do when he’s feeling down. You tend to sometimes let him take his frustrations out on you, take him into the frustration room with messy art painting on the paper walls, or you would take him for a ride to another city or state, depending on how ponderous his problems were. 

Sometimes he even goes to your gym downstairs right next to his studio booth he built due to trying to accomplish his dream of being an producer and so far he over achieved that supplentairly with being an heavyweight champion of mma. There’s plenty of Brazilian, American, Japanese, Korean, etc. artists that he produced for and honestly some are hits, some are not— depending on how big the artist is. It’s a win or lose with producing songs but it’s never like that with fighting. He’s undefeated and has won 7 championship matches already and won every last one of them while you were either at home or standing in the crowd with a huge smile on your chunky face. 

Everytime he won a fight he would either point at you and tell the crowd how much you inspire him and how much he’s in love with you. When you are at home, he’ll shout you out and the crowd somehow gets louder every time he does any of those. You thought it was because of how wholesome he was but in reality the crowd was in awe of your beauty as the camera panned to you whenever he shouted at you out if you were there, of course. 

Overall, you two are each other's lock and key to your diary. Your relationship was a diary to most around you, if you had problems you kept it between you two and your therapist. If word got out that you two are having problems, you were afraid that Takemichi would go back because he was being the airhead he was whenever one of his friends were in trouble. So you vowed to never let your relationship problems swim their way back to your friends, family, etc. especially not the public. Only exception is the diary of a person you both share, which is also your therapist/ counselor.

You loved each other so much. He always declares he’s really in love with you when his cock is digging in and out of you. Your juices and the way your walls tighten on his cock was all he needed to confirm that you love him too. You were always speechless when he took you on any part of the mansion you guys owned together. The pool table, the bed, balcony, gym, and many more places, you name it. Your moans were so beautiful and recording worthy so you did multiple sex tapes with Minami in different kinds of sex positions he learned or wanted to try. Your sex life was beautiful and you couldn’t be more thankful for South making you feel so loved but what you didn’t know is that he feels the same way about you making him feel like he belongs here in this world.

In fact, your moans were so beautiful that he had to ask you the big question while sitting at the onyx and pearl kitchen island he installed in the kitchen. He’s been trying to ask for a minute of staring at your ass in awe and in his head as you put the greens in a different pot to cook. “ Hey baby.” You made a Hmm sound to let him know that you’re listening. South smiled and shook his head prior to tapping his finger on the surface of the island with his leg shaking up and down to match. He was really nervous about asking you this— you were the only person who made him feel that way. 

“ I was thinking of showing you the instrumental to a new song I came up with, would you mind coming down to the studio with me, Bonita.” Minami knew he had you when he used Portuguese, you were always weak to that. “ What’s the catch? Knowing your sneaky ass, there’s a catch.” 

You turned the stove on low and turned around to him with your chubby arms crossed over your chest. He chuckled prior to raising his big, tall structure off the seat to walk around to hold you by your love handles, “ I don’t know, we’ll see when we go down there, wanna create a melody with you.” Your eyebrows raised at his words because that could be a triple entendre for all you know.  “ But baby, I have to finish cooki-”.

South reaches behind you to turn the stove off, stopping your train of thought in the process, “ We can always eat take out, besides you always leave the greens in the fridge overnight, get it together my beautiful Angel.” You almost smacked your lips at his audacity, “ I taught you that so how you’re gonna’ try to scold me.”  

Minami shrugged his shoulders with a low chuckle as he held out his left hand for you to take, “ Which is why I’m telling you to get it together, meu amor. Don’t make me start speaking my sentences in Portuguese, something you don’t even fully understand to get my point further across.” You rolled your eyes at his remark, “ first off, I’m learning to speak and understand  it and you’re my teacher, so I should’ve learned more than I already am. What does that say about you?” 

He loved when you did your little teasing at him, so he did the only thing he thought of in his mind. South grabbed your neck and brought you into a slow sensual kiss. Your tongues were lapping onto each other like people rolling around a mat for wrestling. South was so much taller than you no matter if you were 4 '11 or 6' 10. The man was 7’ 4 for a reason and you loved it. 

South walked your body to the wall leaving just an inch between you and the wall. He then reached to grab both of your ass cheeks, squeezing them hard enough to make your pussy lips spread apart— your whimper at the cold air told him everything he needed to know. He got you where he wanted. 

“ Jump, baby.”, South mumbled against your lips while giving you a reassuring nod. You jumped up and wrapped your arms around his neck as your legs wrapped around his waist— deepening the kiss even more. You both were still making out as he walked you to the escalator to go down to the studio. 

South’s mouth felt marshmallow like against yours— your lips were practically being sucked like a vacuum by South and he couldn’t help it. Your two tone lips were one of his favorites to devour on your body, “ I can’t wait to be inside of you, my sweet doll.” Your hips rolled against his automatically as both of your bodies descended with the escalator. His hands were glued to your ass and he couldn’t feel more exhilarated. He was gonna definitely put a baby in you, it’s his dream. 

Minami kicked open the studio door prior to breaking the kiss to touch the buttons causing the booth to light up and the mic to be on recording any soun made in that room. He opened the booth door to let you both inside, “ Are you ready, amor.” You grinned after pulling back from sucking his bottom lip. You still heard him clearly even if he sounded funny just now due to the sucking of his bottom lip in your mouth. 

South kept tonguing you down as he let you down on the floor. He only broke the kiss with one more peck on your lips. You two make out sessions always made your pussy wet because maybe it’s the delirium or the torpidity of the kiss, either way your panties was soaked and when South turned around to sit up the stool behind the mic, you reached down under your short light blue and pink sundress to feel the pool protruding your panties right now. 

Now he’s gonna explain whilst seducing you. “ Here’s what’s up, princess. We’re gonna record your moans for me and I’m gonna merge it with a beat. I’ve been thinking about this ever since I became a producer. The sex tapes we have don’t do your sexy ass moans justice so why not let the world know who made you moan like the slutty princess you are. My fucking slutty princess.” 

He bent down to apprehend your lips onto his one last time prior to touching a few more buttons behind you. Meanwhile, you were wrapped inside of your head about the kiss on your lips as you touched your lips. He still had a school girl crush effect on you and that says something when you two are married for three years now. “ nami’ is my name—when you moan or groan it— is it gonna be on the song because I can’t have anybody kn-”

South grabbed your hand, interrupting any words you had planned to spew out of your mouth, “ Baby, relax and trust me, can you do that for me, princess?” You meekly nodded your head and felt his smooth lips trailing all over your round face, pouty glossy lips and down to your chest. He looked up at you while he bent down to lay kisses on the top of your boobs as you were still in your sundress. Minami then proceeds to dig into his pants pocket pulling out a black pocket knife  with a peacock design running down it. Your breath got caught in your throat when you felt the tip of the knife grazing over your pretty saggy tits. You had two different size tits but he or you didn’t mind. It’s natural to both of your eyes. 

The way that south held eye contact was different this time around compared to usual. He looked like he was obsessed with you as you watched his pupils dilate as the knife trailed between your boobs causing you to be half scared and half aroused. Your pussy was practically clapping in joy from the way it was clenching and unclenching to air. South trailed the knife down and pressed harder on the fabric of your dress to cut it open, freeing your tits all the while putting your panties with your soaked pussy on display to him and the cold air, “ oh look how beautiful my precious dolly looks, you know what I did  to my cousins dolls when I was younger, meu amor? Hmm. I used to break them, not gonna get too explicit on how because I’m not gonna go that far with you, but I am gonna break you and make you think about my dick. All day and everyday.”

Every kiss south trailed down your body was glorious because he was still talking in between his kisses and his voice was always so smooth and velvety, just the way you liked it, “ When you’re cooking.” He now kissed your right nipple making it protrude into hardness. “ When you’re bathing or showering.” He stuck his tongue across your chest whilst trailing the knife over your pudgy stomach. “ When you’re doing your nails and putting on your clothes.” He latched onto your left nipple— still trailing the knife over your stomach rolls in advance to continuing trailing down your body until he stops at the top of your puffy pussy. 

Your body shuddered in want and need for South and he loved every moment of it especially when you furrow those cute eyebrows with your pretty mouth opened at the sensation he was bringing you right now. South slowly trailed the knife flatly against the vulva of your pussy— popping your nipple out of his mouth to speak, “ You feel the tension don’t cha’? You feel the knife gliding over this plump pussy of yours. I’ll never hurt you baby but I just can’t help scaring you into sweet ecstasy .” South slowly guided the knife under your underwear band— cutting to expose the right side of your pussy.

South did the same to the left side of your pussy letting the rest of your panties drop to the floor— fully exposing you. South smiled down at you ahead of picking you up, placing you on the stool facing him. He slowly pulled off his shirt as well, he knew you were gonna get messy. The mic was behind you two but it was the perfect angle to capture what he was about to do to you right now.

South bent all the way down to your pretty feet, kissing the top of your feet with pure desire and fatigue in his eyes, “ God! You’re so gorgeous, from head to toe, I don’t care what anyone lsays about you. You’re perfect in my eyes and that’s all. That. Matters.” Minami kissed up your legs as he held them together to pay attention to both at the same time. When he got to your corpulent thighs, he opened your legs revealing your pussy to his eyes. He looked like a lucky person who won a cash prize from a cereal box. He always acted that way when it came to him devouring your pussy. 

South looked up at you, kissing your inner thighs, “ I’m gonna take good care of you and that pussy baby, all you gotta do is sit back and moan for me. Enjoy yourself, meu amor.” He breathed in your pussy scent and almost groaned loudly at your smell. It was natural but smelled so good to him. He knew you wanted to squeeze your legs shut so he gripped them with his hands to stay open. 

You only wanted to shut them because you haven’t shaved since last week and your pussy hair grew back faster than expected. You knew it was natural but it’s still embarrassing. The thing is Minami didn’t care not one bit, so he didn’t get why you should care. He has hair on his dick even starting from a dark- blondish happy trail. He also loved how your pussy was pink on the inside but one of two shades darker from your actual skin tone. Women always intrigued him, you in particular— his temptation, his girl, his woman. 

South kissed your vulva with soft and wet kisses preceding placing his hands on your pussy opening your folds to finally see the opening of your pussy. You subconsciously covered your face as his big tongue took one long lick over your opening of your pussy and clitoris, “ Fuck~ Nami’.” Your fuck sounded so prettty especially when it’s dragged out like that. 

South swallows what he savors— laughing at your reaction to him doing that. He spit on your pussy afterwards, watching the saliva drip down his pussy. His spit felt so good on your hot pussy that it made you whimper at the contact. Afterwards, South dig into your pussy like it was his first and last meal for the day. Your pussy dripped on his tongue and he was gladly drinking it up. The swirl of his tongue was enough to make you grip his hair and scream out his name followed by coherent pleas to let up on your poor pussy, “ pleasee… m’ fuck yes”. 

South could hear your pleas and he could also feel your body shaking underneath him. He loved when you couldn’t help but to shake even if he just got started. Every part of your body was sensitive and gosh did he love that because he can do one thing and the next you’re exploding from pleasure. South’s tongue was heavy on your clit and his index and pointer fingers probing the opening of your pussy just added to your pleasure. 

“ Ohh… I think I’m gonna cum if you finger me, Nami’. I don’t wanna- fu-uhhh-ck! Not the zig zag.”, You moaned as one of your legs lifted up on his right shoulder at his tongue moving in a zigzag direction across your pussy. South laughed into your pussy while shaking his head left and right fast. Your hands gripped the chair in stool in support as your hips moved uncontrollably due to the immense pleasure you’re feeling right now. 

He then sucked on your clit as his fingers entered your pussy. You threw your head back in reaction to his thick fingers entering your slippery, hot pussy, “ Oh, yes yes~ just like that South. I think I’m gonna cum~” South pushed his fingers inside of your pussy even more ahead of curling his fingers right at your g-spot, massaging it as he moved his fingers in and out of you, occasionally twisting his fingers inside of you as he moved in and out. When he felt you were about to release, he unattached himself from your clit, still moving his fingers inside of you all at the same time.

Your stomach tightened and you felt water coming out of your pussy because of the pressure on and in your pussy, “ m’ cummin, m’ gonna cum, ughhh!” South felt your pussy clamp on and off  his fingers as you squirted on the floor since he moved to the side with his fingers still inside of you. He looked at you with inclination swimming in his eyes like a leech swimming in a dark lake, late at night. 

Your body shook and moved up and down because of your rapid breathing from your orgasm he strummed out of you. You licked your lips and looked at South with the eyes he so desperately admired whenever you showed the emotion of prurience. South kissed your clit one last time— feeling you jolt under him from the impact— afore kissing and licking the little stretch marks on your stomach and chest as he makes his way up your body. 

He then grabbed your face with both of his hands bringing you into a wet, sloppy kiss. You tugged him closer before pulling away from him, “ Can I suck your dick, South. Maybe you can add that to the track after all you are cutting certain parts right? I just wanna take care of you baby, allow me?” South always loved when you boosted his ego. “ You can do whatever you wanna do, sweetheart. After all this is your dick, aren’t you supposed to have all access to this dick? Hmm, so go ahead and give daddy what you think he deserves.” Your pussy clenched at the thought of sucking his big heavy dick. 

South fully stood up while you got on your knees in front of him. The stool was a few 7 inches from your head and you were glad because now you can suck him the way you want. You looked up at him through your pretty eyelashes causing him to smirk down at you. His masterpiece. His love. Art really. 

He watched as you unzipped his pants pulling them down along with his underwear, dropping them to his ankles. He stepped out of them and kicked them to the side. His dick sprung back into your face when he turned to you, almost taking your eye out from how thick and long it was. You held his uncircumcised cock in your hand stroking him up and down watching as his tip disappeared and reappeared. You were fascinated with his cock, dare I say addicted to his cock. 

Finally having enough of his little groans and mini leg shakes from you dragging your hand up and down his cock, you stroked him one last time to peel his foreskin back to suck on the tip. Once he felt your hot mouth on his thick tip, he threw his head back letting out a big, “ Oh!”  He followed with a “fuck” afterwards whilst lowering your wet mouth on his dick— taking him inch by inch. The wide stretch of your mouth was hell but you so badly wanted to suck his dick and please him. 

South pat your head to soothe your eagerness down a little bit, “ Only take what you can, doll. Don’t want you choking to death on my dick.” You slowly blinked your eyes and when you did, you gagged because you lost focus of your throat relaxing. So you slowly lifted up off of his dick until you had just the tip in your mouth. Your pretty lips wrapped around his tip as your right hand massaged the dry part of his dick: the part you couldn’t fit into your mouth. 

Spew of curses spewed out of Minami’s mouth as you held his dick in one of your hand prior to spitting a glob of spit on his cock, “ Good fucking girl. My pretty little slut knows how to make me feel good. Ughhh shit!” You swallowed all of him, moving your mouth down to the base of his dick, breathing in his musk/ feeling his hair on his pelvis, and back up again. As you did this, you relaxed your throat even more— inviting his heavy cock in your mouth. You started to twist your head in a circular motion making him lose his mind over the head twist motion. South couldn’t take it and grabbed your hair in his hand, watching with low eyes and an open mouth at you sucking him like a tornado, “ fucking hell, {reader}}… your fucking mouth is sucking me in, keep doing that and I’m gonna bust down this throat of yours~.” 

You didn’t wanna hear any of what he was saying because you wanted him to cum down your throat, so you did everything you could to make him cum. Your left hand grabbed his big balls gently massaging them as your right hand grabbed the spit that dripped down his cock, and was about to make it to the floor until you grabbed it, placing the glossy spit on the part you couldn’t fully take in your mouth. The enjoyment of sucking dick was heard throughout the room as you did the combo he loved and couldn’t take. Your tears were either resting on your lash line for one of your eyes or falling down your eyes for another eye. His thighs almost gave out at the action of how you look up at him and the locking of your jaw around his dick whilst still twisting your hand— massaging his cock. 

South moans were deep and loud as he stood with his head leaned back in pure bliss, “ Shit, shit, doll, I’m cummin’, gonna cum down this slutty throat. Such a good girl, causing me to feel like thiss… ahhh! Ahhh! Stop { reader} before I cum down your throat and you know how my cum is.” Yes, you did know. When south cums, he cums loud and messy. An example is coming..

Minami both of your hands off his dick and balls afore grabbing your head and thrusting his hips forwards. Your head was trapped between him and the stool and you couldn’t move, so you swallowed him with gags sounds floating around the studio booth. “ Fuck, I’m cummin’ my princess.”, South moans loudly as his hot cum shoots down your throat. South leaned on the stool with one hand placed flatly on the seating part. His hand he had on your head released just to feel your neck for the visible throat bulge he formed on your neck from how deep he was. 

You tapped his leg when you had enough of his cum impelling him to slowly take his cock out of your mouth. He huffed loudly with a few drops of cum spilling on your face. He was satisfied at you sucking his dick but he was still thinking of fucking that sweet pussy of yours. He was so glad he had stamina for multiple rounds despite what research says about men cumming just one time. You, on the other hand, was gasping and coughing loudly at the feeling of being able to breathe again. South finally regained his consciousness when he heard you coughing so he hurried to grab a water bottle from the little fridge on the opposite side from where you two were at. 

South squatted down in front of you, giving you the water bottle with a smirk, “ Tapping out already?” You pushed his shoulder a little bit— taking the water bottle to drink it down and that you did. South watched you drink the entire water bottle and he instantly got hard. You ooze sex appeal especially when you keep eye contact with him as you drink the water. “ Who said that? I thought you were gonna make me moan into the mic, that wasn’t my best. Wanna know what my best moans come from? Hmm honey.” He smiled a close lip smile and nodded his head. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders giving him a little kiss on the mouth, “ When I’m getting my pussy destroyed by you in the most thrilling and benevolent way. The way your dick feels inside of m-”

South had enough and yanked you up with him, plopping your ass right on the seating part of the stool, “ since you’re talking like that, you are ready. ” You nodded and rebuttal, “ But are you ready?” He smirked and kissed you as a sign saying yes. South reached down to your pussy and rubbed small circles on your clit, heading small whimper seap out of you. He then lined the head of his cock on the opening slit of your pussy. You both grained when he slid his dick up and down your pussy, bumping the tip of his dick on your clit every time he went up. 

South gripped your love handles and pushed his hips forward inside of your pussy. Both of your heads flew back in euphoria. Both of your fucks were heard as he slid inside of you. You wiggled to release the tension of the burning sensation you were feeling from his cock being half way inside of you, “ I don’t think I can take all of that. You know I can’t especially in this position, I-” south kissed your nose, “ Come on, darlin’. You got this and I got you so ease up for me so I can split this pussy in half to give you the right pleasure you need.” You smacked his biceps and laid your head on his chest, “ No matter how many times we fuck or make love, I could never take it the first few mintues of us fucking. Still not used to this size. So please take it slow for a few seconds Minami.” 

He knew you were serious because of the way you looked up at him with your chin on his chest, “ Anything for you, baby.” You swallowed and leaned back, slowly getting comfortable and easing up on his cock while you were at it. South bit his lip as he pulled out of you to only push himself inside of you again, this time slower than before. The more you got aroused, the more your cervix moved up letting him in even more. Tears escaped your eyes as you held back your screams and whines when he started moving back and forth in a slow motion. 

You wanted more. You needed more. Your pussy opened for him just a little more and latched onto his cock when he slammed all the way inside making you cry even more. Your body and insides were so sensitive and you hated it because tears were always gonna pour out of your pretty eyes whenever you two had sex. “ Fu-uuh-ck, this feels so good South, please fuck me harder. Make me your sweet little whore for this studio session.”

South groaned loudly at your naughty little words, “ Shit! I fucking love when you grip my dick like this whilst talking your shit. Give me more, how bad do you wanna- ugh!- be my sweet little whore? Hmm.” You moaned while holding on to his biceps letting him wreck your pussy with his heavy cock, “ Ahh! Fuck! I wanna be your whore for today, tomroow, and fucking forever. You’re fucking me so good right now.” And he was. His hips were snapping into yours with loud squelches and smacking sounds. Your whimpers and moans were sharing the spotlight with his fucking and he couldn’t be more proud of you and himself right now. Your little ash’s and oh’s were definitely gonna be the highlight of this new song he’s producing for your favorite artist. 

He hid that fact from you because he knew you weren’t going to say yes if you knew this was for your idol for their new album. South snapped himself out of his trance as he gazed at you in pure love, “ You’re so fucking pretty taking my dick like this. See, you always take my dick so nicely even when your eyes are rolling to the back of your head right now. You’re loving this dick so let { your favorite artist} know how much you love daddy’s dick.”  He then begins to roll his hips into yours as one of your hands now scratches down his back whilst the other one is grabbing his ass cheek. 

He moaned at the feeling of your hands on him and your pussy clenching and unclenching on him. He knew you were about to squirt on him, so he rubbed his thumb over your clit causing your body to shake in reaction. “ Ahaha shit! Yes! Yes.” Clear substance sprayed on his pelvis and he couldn’t care less about your pleas and your juices exploding on him, especially since he kept rubbing cirles against your puffy clit.

South hair was now making its way out of the loose man bun he had in his hair— his sweaty body was beautiful to you as you now came down from your little shakeable high. He tapped your mouth and you opened in response— spitting inside of it, you two then connected both of your mouths together to make out with the spit inside of your mouths. 

Afterwards, South pulled away from your mouth clenching his teeth at your pussy clamping down on him like a vampire sucking blood off a mere human, “ I’m not fucking done so don’t even think about blacking out right now, hold on, just a little bit longer for me.” Your little whines would’ve been funny right now if he wasn’t so focused on making you and himself cum at the same time. Trust, he’s been struggling to not bust inside of your honeypot pussy especially when you had a vicious grip on his dick. 

South hoisted you up against him to walk you to the little white loveseat. He was gonna make sure you were still heard in the recording. He placed you down only to place himself against your body, so now your sweaty body was against his own sweaty body. He lifted a little to guide the tip of his cock in your pussy, your gasps was all he needed to hear preparatory to snapping his hips forward as his moan and groans filled the opening of your neck where he lay his forehead. 

He was thankful you were trying to hold your legs up as he pounded inside of your pussy with no remorse. The sound of your screams and the slapping of you two skins were electrifying. Your pussy hair was tickling him a little but that soon became overshadowed by your body shaking against his, “ South, I can’t— I can’t take it anymore. Mm’gonna cum. M’cummin.” 

South smirked and folded your legs up a little bit higher making your double chin and chubby cheeks appear more than usual, pulling him into you even more since he got you to love them because he did. He placed two legs beside his own body leaning over you even more as he continued to pound your insides to his liking. You felt like you were gonna pass out and he could see it so he reached around to grab your stomach as he continued moving in and out of you, “ Not yet. Just 30 more, uuhh! Fuck! Fuck!, seconds. I’m gonna give you a baby.” 

You moaned at the thought of having his child and at the impact of his hips, “ Yes, yes, give me your seed. Have me birth your childd… no, I wanna birth our child~.” South almost bust then and there, but he needed to add one more thing. He gripped your stomach with one hand while cradling your head with his other arm— fucking your pussy up. Following, he leaned to your face moaning at the feeling of you around him, “ I want to see three little rascals running around this house or would you like a bigger house? Hmm, what do you say~ holy shit, I’m cummin’! Let’s cum together, meu amor.” You tightened and untightened against his cock. Your nails raked his back in desperation of finally cumming on his cock at the same time of him cumming inside of you. His ears popped while your vision turned white. Both of you were huffing and breathing loudly at the amazing feeling you both received. 

It took South some time to gather his strength back as his dick pumped nonstop inside of you. Yeah, you were definitely getting pregnant from this. Your legs were still shaking even if you regained your vision back after a minute or two. Minami slowly pulled out of your dripping pussy and you felt his hot cum slipping out of your warm pussy. 

South shakily rolled off of you to sit hit bare ass on the rug below the loveseat. He watched as your chest slowly ascended and descended. He was so head over heels for you, so he had to say it in his language, “ Eu amo-te, linda.” You turned to him with a close eyed smile, “ amo-te também, bébé.” South smiled widely at that because you actually have been studying and paying attention to his words. He kissed your cheek and pulled you down to lay on top of him. He was so lucky there was a carpet under you because then he’ll hear you’re fussing when you two got back up in an hour to take a shower and eat at one of Taiju’s restaurants. 

Maybe he’ll invite Draken, Benkei, Taiju, Muto, and Mochi next time since he's been seeing their eyes on you and your smile told him everything he needed to know. Hard maybe though. You loved your big men. He knew it and you knew it. 

୨⍣୧ ⁺⁎˚ ⋆━━Tagging: @dejwrites @simpingfor-wakasa @happygoluckyalexis @mastermindenoshimaalicia @bontens-angel @bontensbabygirl @celi-xxmoon @eunoiasa, @kazutoraprincess @watyousayin( you previously said you wanted to be tag in future fics so I’m gonna start tagging you in)

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Endurance 1

Warnings: this fic will include obsessive behaviour, possible non/ducbon, bullying, and other elements which may not be specifically triggered. Please be cautious in continuing on to the story.

Character: Walter Marshall

Summary: A fellow gym go makes your workouts even more taxing.

Please reblog and leave some feedback, preferably in a reblog but you can always drop by my asks. I always love working in y'alls ideas with these AUs so I am so excited to hear from you.

As always, take care of yourself <3 be kind and be patient. Love you.

No tag lists. Please review my pinned and bio for guidelines.

You come out of the changing room and peek at the wall mirror as you pass. You admire your new bubblegum pink leggings and polka dot top. It’s a bit out there but you’ve seen neons in this place that make your retinas burn. Besides, you’ve never been shy when it comes to fashion. It’s not just your passion, it’s your job. 

It’s late enough that the bodies there are far and few between. You prefer the nights when the gym feels like a ghost town. The air is quiet but not stagnant.  

Your water bottle swings on its handle from your hand as your bouncy steps keep in time with the boppy music thrumming in your earbuds. Your workout mix is a nice blend of retro and contemporary bass hits. You catch yourself humming and stamp it down. Sometimes, you forget other people can perceive you, not that there’s many around to so.  

You find an empty mat. They all are. You put your bottle down and start your stretches. Your late night sessions help clear your mind though it never really stops. In your mind, you’re seeing pleats, seams, and ruffles. 

Your body moves without thinking. It’s all muscle memory. You’re no gym rat, you don’t go that hard, just enough to loosen up your muscles. Your note overly swoll as the young ones call it. You’re fit enough for a light jog and the stairs don’t leave you winded like they used to. 

After your stretches, you slurp loudly from the straw of your water bottle, walking with it still between your lips as you head for an elliptical. You can just let the repetitive motion take over. You pop your lips off the tub and slip the bottle into the little plastic holder on the side of the machine. 

As you climb up, you see another figure across the floor. The man sits on the end of a weight bench. For a moment, it looks, even feels, like he’s watching you. From there, you can’t see very well. You don’t wear your glasses in the gym since you lost a pair to a hungry leg press. 

You can make out dark hair and his burly form. Hazy but wide enough to clock. Most people around here are stacked. You’re too casual for all that. And you like a piece of tiramisu with your Friday lattes. 

You pick your speed and start to climb. You cling to the machine and rock your head to the music. Once more, your throat vibrates and you have to remind yourself to stop. You can’t help it, you love Destiny’s child. Does that date you? For someone working in fashion, you can’t ever risk that. 

You zone out, vision blurring as you let your body do the work. The sweat speckles and slicks across your skin. Damn, you might just be bootylicious after this work out. 

Your fitbit rumbles and you look down. You’re in the zone. You keep going until you hit thirty minutes and slow down. You cool off for ten minutes and swipe up your bottle, sucking on it greedily as you head back to the mats. 

You swing out your arms and stretch your legs in slowly lunges. You bend forward, touching each toe with opposite hand, lingering with your ass up as you brace your hips. A sudden clang has you standing straight so fast you nearly topple onto your butt. 

You throw out your arms to catch your balance as you let out a pathetic, ‘woah-oh-oh'. You look over at the man as begins reps with the heavy dumbbells. You’ve never gotten above the tens. His blue eyes flash in your direction and you give a sheepish smile. 

You don’t want to seem weird so you return to your stretches. Arms up, lean to one side, then the other. You hear a strange rumble, like thunder, and look over at the man as he continues to work his traps, staring at you. You could even call it a glare. 

You tap your ear bud as you face him, “sorry?” 

“Do you have to make that noise?” He snarls. 

Your brows pop up. We’re you humming again? Oops. 

“Sorry, I didn’t realise I was,” you smile and before you can tap play, he scoffs.  

“Typical,” he grumbles as alternates to biceps. 

He’s built. He’s arms are bigger than your head. Probably. You don’t think he’d let you compare for scale. You drop your hand without tapping. 

You get down and extend your legs in front of you. His breaths underline your movement as you bend one leg over the other and push your straight arm against it as you twist. As you do the other side, facing him, his gaze flicks over again. 

“You put more time into choosing that outfit than you do working out,” he shakes his head. 

You blanch. Oh wow. You must have been really out of tune if he’s that grumpy. You give a tight-lipped smile and keep going. He’s not the first grouch you’ve dealt with. Your editor is a chronic miser. 

You straight arms and legs and bend to touch your toes. You then pull your arms back and plant your hands. You lift your pelvis and torso and lean your head back, raising yourself in a straight line as you hang your head back. 

“Form is off,” he mutters. 

You lower back down and look at him again. 

“Oh, uh, do you have any tips?” You ask curiously. He grimaces. You push your shoulders up and tilt your head, “well, if you think of any, I'd be happy to work on it. I’d hate to hurt myself.” 

You get to your knees and groan as you push yourself to your feet. He tuts as gets down to plank, still gripping the weights. He lifts the left and puts it back down, then the right. You watch him for a minute, impressed by his strength. Your wary of lifting too much, you don’t trust yourself. 

“You think your cute,” he sneers under his breath. 

“Um, sometimes,” you hover across from him, “I just thought you might know more than me--” 

“Of course I do,” he puffs between lifts. 

“Mm, okay, well, I’d love to learn--” 

“They got trainers for that,” he snips as he finishes his reps and puts his knees down. 

“Right, um, sorry to bother then. I was only... asking,” you turn and grab your bottle. 

You flip the top up again and slurp. You get to the bottom, sucking air loudly up before giving up. He huffs and stands with the weights, slamming them back on the rack. 

“Do you have to make so much goddamn noise?” He stands straight and turns to you, crossing his thick arms. You stop short and part your lips. 

“It’s empty, I didn’t--” 

“It’s not the only thing’s that empty,” he taps his skull, “go back to the mall, girl.” 

You scrunch your nose, “you don’t have to be rude, mister.” 

“Honesty is a gift,” he snorts. 

You pull your chin back. You didn’t mean to annoy him and you apologised already. You’re a nice person but you don’t appreciate his tone. 

“Well, if I’m being honest,” you put your hands on your hips, “you’re not very nice.” 

He chortles as a crease forms in his forehead, “and you’re not as cute as you think.” 

“What does it matter what I think I am?” You challenge, “I didn’t ask you.” 

“No, you just float around like some airhead and disturb everyone else,” he accuses. 

You peer around, “there’s no one here.” 

He drops his arms and lifts his chin. He steps forward and you waver, just a bit, put off by his size.  

“I’m here,” he says. 

You blink. What does that mean? 

He takes another step and you stare at him, necks and cheek burning. His words strike an epiphany. It’s just you and him. He’s a lot stronger than you. 

Another step and you put your hands up, “mister, you better not come any closer.” 

He scoffs again, “or what? Are you going to cry?” 

You pout and shake your head, “no, but I... I could scream. Or bite.” 

He shakes his head, “what do you think I’m gonna do, girl? That’s what you do, isn’t it? Make yourself the victim. You need the attention to make you feel special.” 

He’s getting closer. 

“I said stay away,” you project your voice as best you can, “I’m not afraid of you, mister.” 

He chuckles and tilts his head. He stops, just a step away from you, “aren’t you?’ 

Your eyes meet his and you stand trapped in the snare of his glower. His blue eyes are deep and fiery, his chiseled face is framed by dark curls and a thick beard, and his chin is cleft handsomely. He’s fearsome, a bear in man’s flesh. You’re no more than helpless hare. 

You back away and his mouth slants in triumph. He’s won. You turn and gulp, gripping tight your bottle as your sneaker squeaks loudly. You scurry away, buzzing with adrenaline. 

“That’s right, you run away, girl, run as fast as you can,” he calls after you, “not very, I’m sure.” 

You keep a brisk walk as you hurry towards the locker room and push inside. Your heart is hammering and your breathless as you reach your locker. You put the bottle on the bench and clutch the sides of your head. You’re dizzy as you try to get a rein on your frazzled nerves. 

You thought you left the bullies behind in high school, over a decade ago. In that second, you’re right back in your teenage years. Your eyes sting with tears and your stomach churns with humiliation. That glimmer of insecurity creeps back into you. 

No, no. You’re an adult. You’re a grown woman. You have a job and a life you love. You’re nothing they said you were. You proved them all wrong and you will prove that butthead wrong too. 

[hobies-princealbert]

I’ll always push the Hobie and Stallion Reader Agenda

It’s what he needs like cmon Black Punk British Nigga in like hot ass Texas or sumn with his Tall Thick Ebony Chick

It’s a Vibeee it gives “you can’t handle allat” and yk he definitely can

GOT EM LEGS ON HIS HEAD CUZ HE LOVE TALL WOMEN♡

MWAH💋

punk! hobie brown x stallion! reader |

°• y'all met on while you were on a girl's trip in candem. you were getting rowdy with your girls at one of the alternative clubs that the area was famous for. the scene was mainly punk and grunge, so you in a pretty all pink track suit surely stood out amongst the sea of gray and black.

°• you remember catching sight of hobie staring at you from your peripheral. you thought he was cute, plus he wasn't the only person staring at you. most eyes were on you the minute you stepped through that door. i mean look at you, how could they not stare.

°• your body was decorated in dazzling gold jewelry that looked radiant against your deep brown skin. you practically were practically luminous. how could he not go up to talk to you.

°• you could tell he was a little taken aback at first. probably it was your height, you were pretty tall, especially in heels. or the fact that you were so confident talking to him. sure, you were a little flustered cause he was cute ( translation: he was one the most gorgeous men you've seen), and he was a smooth talker that's for sure.

°• you didn't really give niggas your number like that, but could make exceptions. and nearly two years later, you were glad you did.

°• you two were an odd couple to say the least but you were similar in many ways. you both freely expressed yourselves through fashion. he, with his black leather, silver chains and spikes. and you, with your bright colors, gold jewelery and bling nails.

°• you both admired this aspect of each other. hobie loved to add to your jewelery collection. he would craft or thrift any jewels that he think would look great on you. similarly you loved to help him customize his fits, line his eyes and paint his nails.

°• both expressive and confident in everything you did. quick to stand up for others and raise hell when needed. you had spunk to you, he loved that about you. you could be hot headed sometimes but he didn't mind.

°• standing side by side y'all looked like a couple of giants. y'all turned heads everywhere you went. hobie had this laid back stride, and you with your pointed steps and sharp swaying hips. someone even asked if you two were runway model. to which hobie joked that he was briefly one.

°• speaking of hips, you had a great ass. you knew, randos on the street knew it, and especially hobie knew it. the man was obsessed with your butt. anytime he passed by you expect a quick smack. wearing jeans, his hands are casually resting in your back pockets. one time you were in the club throwing it back on your man, and he just stared at it awe. he's never seen you ass move like that before, he swore blacked out a bit that night.

°• on the topic of throwing it back, y'all loved meg thee stallion. singing her shit word for word, stank face and all. throwing it back on each other while her music bumped all through the apartment. similarly you love when hobie put you onto his shit too. mainly riot grrrl stuff. you loved how pumped it got you.

°• you absolutely adored your punk boyfriend, and he surely adored you two.

[tvgals]

‘ PRETTY IN PINK ‘

harvard professor! toji x black! elle woods! reader

getting into harvard law was a piece of cake, but somehow getting into your professors pants was harder!

cw: black! reader, age gap by like 15 years, set in 2001

ENJOY !

you pull your pink satin eye mask over your bonnet and stretch. today was the day, the day you’d finally get professor fushiguro to give in. you’ve had your eye on him since you were a freshman, his brood and sarcastic demeanor making him even more attractive. you hop out of your bed and start to get ready. after half an hour of doing what you need to do, you grab your bella louis vuitton tote and slide into your heels, walking out the door. arriving to your first class you’re already out of breath, not from the route there, of course not, but the fact your english teacher, is sitting on toji’s desk. laughing. you purse your lips together and stare, holding your designer purse in front of you. it didn’t take long for toji to notice the girl wearing all pink in his doorway.

“need something?” toji said in his oh so deep and gravely voice. “oh no! i was just about to ask a question but i see you’re already talking to someone. i’ll be on my way.” and with that you speed walk down the hall, the familiar clacking of your heels against the schools polished marble floor getting further and further. tears well in your eyes, but why? it’s not like you and toji are dating, and if you two were, you’d be sure you still wouldn’t let these fat tears roll down your face. you race to the bathroom and push your bottom eyelids up on the way, forcing them to close. once you arrive you take the biggest stall there is and sit on the toilet, hiding your face in your hands. after about six minutes of sulking by yourself, you hear another pair of heels clacking against the floor.

“y/n?” spoke your english teacher. “yes?” you respond, trying to make it seem as if you weren’t just crying. “toji doesn’t like crybabies. i know you’ve been trying to get in his pants and all, but don’t bring the whole class down because you can’t handle your urges.” and with that, she leaves, leaving you a dumbstruck mess. the day just started. it’s only 7:30 in the morning. you take a moment to regather yourself, and walk out. this has been terrible already. you walk into your first class and sigh, ten minutes late. you’ve never been late a day in your life! you plop down in an open seat and grab your notebook, jotting down notes when it’s needed. everyone has had their eyes on you since you’d came here, your bold style and personality attracting attention wherever you went. now was not a good day to have eyes all on you. your usual behavior being a stark contrast to your now sad and mopey one.

“y/n stay after class please.” you teacher slips in during a lecture, you were lucky you caught it unless you’d be in for a treat. class was over and you stood by your teachers desk. “yes?” you ask, fiddling with the straps of your purse. “you’re never late. is something wrong?” she asks. your calculus teacher was a nice old white lady who wore a huge pair of wired glasses. “nope. just tired from exams and stuff.” you chuckle, fidgeting with your hair. “okay okay. well, make sure you get your eight hours to stay beautiful.” she grins. you leave with a “thank you.” and go to your next class.

lunch rolled around and you decided to make your way into toji’s classroom, standing in the doorway as seductively as you could. “hey, toji.” you say, rocking back and forth on your heel. “y/n.” toji says without even looking up from the paper he was grading. “could i speak to you?” you ask, walking towards toji and stopping in front of his desk. toji looks up at you through his glasses a smirk adorning his face. “speak.” toji tells you, looking up at you fully. “is there anyway i could get extra credit?” you ask, putting your louis vuitton bag on his desk, starting to unbutton the top of your blazer. toji starts laughing, standing up and towering over you. you look up at him, swallowing hard.

“you think seducing me will get me to want you more?” he asks, pulling you into his body into the small of your back. he leans down into your ear, his breath hitting the shell of your ear. “because it’s working…” he says, trailing his hand down your skirt. you let out a sigh, bringing your arms around his neck. “lunch ends in 10 minutes…” you whine out, propping yourself against toji’s desk. toji looks up at you with a hungry stare. “better cum in 10 minutes then…” toji chuckled, pulling your panties to the side and slipping two fingers into your cunt with a groan. “look at you.” he grins. “what’s your grade?” toji asks, making casual conversation.

“a…b minus..” you whine, arching your back. “mmm…you’re a smart girl. i don’t have any idea how you have a b minus in my class. it’s as if you’ve been planning this for a while.” toji smiles, pumping his fingers faster. he was catching onto you. it was as if he knew your every move. when you only responded with breathy moans and a whine of “five minutes left…” toji grinned at you, curving his fingers — hitting that spongey spot in you. you arch your back and cum on toji’s finger with a high pitched moan. toji slaps his hand over your mouth and takes his fingers out of you, sucking on his fingers.

“go to class.” he says, popping his fingers from his plush lips.

[linos-luna]

hiii ! ok so,, idk if someone has requested this already but yandere!hyunjin who has a dollification kink (hj giving, reader receiving) + size kink ><

This is a first actually ! 💕

————————————————————————

Ribbons ❣️🔪

Yandere!Hyunjin x Fem!Reader

Warnings: size kink, dollification kink, smut, fingering, unprotected sex, dub con ?, yandere, obsessive behavior, implied drugging

🎀 ————————— 🎀 ————————— 🎀

You laid there on the bed, drugged out. How long has it been? You were a bit disoriented but still conscious and semi alert, but you couldn’t move your limbs.

Hyunjin must’ve put something in your food. He’s always been a bit possessive but lately it’s been turning into an obsession. Especially after you moved in… which wasn’t really a choice for you. You love him still but why? He’s insane.

Hyunjin came in with a big smile and loomed over you. “Oh I’m so glad you’re awake!”

“I’ve… been awake…” you reply weakly. “W-what…??”

“You’re so pretty.” He said, practically ignoring you as he rubbed your cheek. “I put some pretty ribbons in your hair.”

You didn’t even realize your hair was in braids with pink ribbons intertwined.

Looking down at the rest of your body, you realized that you weren’t wearing the t-shirt and jeans that were on earlier. Instead it was replaced with a lacy pink dress. Underneath there were also silky pink panties that you’ve worn before. You noticed because the dress was lifted with your underwear on full display. Your right thigh also had a matching ribbon tied there like a garter. Would’ve been cute if it wasn’t for the circumstance.

“Hyunjin… when…?”

“I think you look great in pink, babydoll.” He interrupted while feeling down your neck. He then grabbed your wrist and kissed your limp hand. “So so pretty…”

He bent down to kiss you but you turned your head away.

“Doll?”

You only glare at him, making him pout.

“Fine then…” his tone shifted and he grabbed your jaw, forcing you to kiss him. “Just thought dress you up before I stuff your little pussy anyways.”

“Wh-what…?”

Without warning he pulled down your panties and started rubbing your clit, nearly making you cry out.

“Feels good, right baby?”

“J-jinnie…” you moan out, lightly bucking your hips.

Hyunjin smirks and inserts his two fingers, the tight fit had your eyes getting teary and you whined at the feeling.

“You’re just my pretty doll.” Hyunjin kissed your neck as he slowly moved his fingers. “You’re finally getting wet… are you gonna let me love you? You seem to love it, babydoll.”

You had to admit that you were feeling pleasure. You didn’t even realize that you were smiling. It must be the drugs right? You couldn’t help it. Did you want him? You didn’t even know anymore.

Your back arched and eyes roll back as he hits the sweet spot.

“You love this, huh?” Hyunjin teased, getting close to your ear. “Does my pretty little doll love this?”

“Mmm…” all you could say.

“You want more, right princess?”

“Mm… m-mmo…” the pleasure was taking over, your mind clouded. You wanted him. You wanted Hyunjin.

“M-more…”

“What was that baby?” He teased.

“Want more…” you moaned while bucking your hips. “Want… jinnie… jinnie….”

Hyunjin smirked and pulled out his fingers to take off his pants.

“You want my cock?” He asks while teasing your cunt with the tip.

“Yes jinnie!” You gasped at the feeling, bucking your hips for the slightest touch. “Want Jinnie’s cock~”

Hyunjin grunted as he entered you. Tight fit. He loved it.

You were stuffed; he wasn’t even moving and you were close to coming. Already fucked out. You couldn’t move your limbs and you were barely able to grip the sheets with your fingers.

“You like being stuffed with my cock, right babydoll?”

“Yes jinnie…” you gasped as he started moving. It started with shallow thrusts as he was trying to get used to your size.

“Your cute tiny cunt can’t handle me huh? Tight but I’ll make it fit.” Hyunjin grabbed your hand and put it to your stomach, making you feel as he thrusted harder.

“You feel that baby?” He panted. “You feel that?”

You only whined as he bent over to make out with you. It was rough and slobbery.

You moaned as you felt his hips stuttering and he eventually came.

Hyunjin panted as he continued leaving wet kisses along your neck. He reached down to rub your clit and you came soon after.

He pulled out and moved your hand to hold his sensitive cock.

“Go ahead..”

You could barely wrap your fingers around it but Hyunjin moved your hand a few times. Whimpering at the feeling. He loved it.

“You dumb doll … always wanted me…” he panted. “Can’t resist me…”

[winxwannabe]

Thoughts on/Rating the S9 images that will probably be wrong in 3 months LETS GO -

Tecna is the best. Hands down, 10/10. I don’t care if they threw it together at the last minute to avoid backlash, give whoever designed her a goddamn raise. The bob with purple streaks, the vinyl skirt, it’s so perfect I can’t handle it. Me to Reboot Tecna:

Please let that be real. Please let the metal arm stay, Straffi.

My girl Musa is an official SHORT QUEEN, a popular headcannon that’s been going for years. I’m thrilled someone finally listened. Her iconic pigtails are also back, which is a bonus is my book (do they kinda look like Marinette’s from Miraculous? Yes, because Rainbow’s gotta steal one thing per season for Winx). The outfit isn’t my favorite, but better than others I’ve seen her in. A very respectable 8.5/10.

Rainbow’s art department raised enough money for brown paint, which is great news for Aisha! No more whitewashing! Her braids are stellar, her look is sporty, just very cute in general. The color scheme is very different from her original look, but I like it. Give Aisha bright colors. Let her be happy. And now tallest girl? 9/10

Flora’s look is the most similar to the OG series. Really the only difference is that weird ass green jacket - thing looks like it came off a one-day Project Runway challenge. It seems waaaay too structured compared to the rest of the outfit. That’s legit my only note. If it ain’t broke don’t fix it, I guess. 7.5/10

Bloom’s look says 2 things; “I’m Bella Thorne from Shake It Up!,” and Certified Horse Girl™️. I do not vibe with either. Bloom is not either. Why is she in pink again? Why is her belt so big - Bloom is so impatient and always in a rush, do you think she has time to put a belt on every day? I get the skirt is paying homage to the S3 one, but the rest is…a choice. This would be lower if Bloom wasn’t my favorite character. But she is, and it’s not the worst look. 6/10.

No, no, the worst look here is your favorite Solarian princess and mine, Stella. I get Rainbow was trying for a new look, but it doesn’t land for me. I don’t like the sunglasses, I don’t like that her dress is pink because that’s never really been Stella’s primary color - it’s more Flora and Tecna’s (and now Bloom’s I guess because UGH). She’s also wearing sleeves, which Stella rarely wore in the series because she is the fairy of the sun and I always thought that was a cool wardrobe detail. The only times she’s worn long sleeves (as a primary outfit in the season) were in S6 with her Alfea uniform, and Season 8, which barely counts. Just…make it orange. Or yellow, or even blue. It would fix so much. 5/10 for doing this ray of sunshine so dirty.

Also, if we can afford new civilian and transformation outfits for the girls, we can do the same for Ogron and the Black Circle. C’mon guys. Also! Why does Ogron have a dark dragon? What the fuck does that mean? Please do not pull a S8 Valtor on the Wizards. They don’t deserve it. And probably get Duman in there before the fans come after you.

[harrywavycurly]

I like how Wayne handled asking about Eddie’s relationship could we get more of that? Maybe Wayne helping Eddie spoil the reader?👀☺️

Hiiii babes!! Of course you can get more Wayne!! I hope you enjoy 💖

- Look here for everything related to Eddie and his Princess✨

*Wayne may not understand why Eddie does what he does but that doesn’t mean he won’t help him when he asks*

“You need what?” “One of those things that when you cut up watermelon or that green melon what’s that called?” “Son you’re asking the wrong person about fruits…” “right..doesn’t matter what it’s called but I know you have one of those things that makes it into like little balls and shit I need to borrow it.” “Ohh you’re talking about a melon baller?” “Is…that really what it’s called?” “Don’t look at me I didn’t name the damn thing…but yeah it’s in the junk drawer I’ve never used it…you can keep it.” “Thanks Wayne…this is perfect.” “What do you need it for?” “She doesn’t eat enough fruit so I figured if it’s in cute little shapes and shit she’ll eat more of it.” “Cute little shapes huh?” “Don’t start…” “here maybe take those old cookie cutters too? If the balls don’t work maybe the heart and star will?” “Oh that’s a great idea. Thanks Wayne I appreciate it.” “Anytime…let me know how it goes.”

“She won’t like that one.” “What? Why not?” “It’s…scratchy.” “It may be god awful ugly with these green dots all over…but it sure as shit ain’t scratchy…” “to us yeah it’s soft but I know her…she won’t like how it feels and she needs a new blanket for the living room the one she uses now is falling apart.” “Okay what about that pink one with the white hearts? It doesn’t look scratchy?” “Let’s see…this could work…yeah she’ll like this one it’s similar to the one she already has and she typically likes to get the exact same things over and over.” “So this will work?…damn that’s soft…might have to get me one of these.” “Yeah it’ll work the only difference is the one she has now has white and purple hearts.” “And you don’t think she’ll notice?” “Oh she’ll notice but she won’t care…are you really getting one?” “Yeah this is the softest thing I’ve ever felt…she has good taste.” “She’ll love that you two have the same blanket.”

“Now just relax for a moment and tell me what happened.” “Some fucking dude at work asked for her number…even called her sweetheart.” “Okay and I can tell that’s made you upset.” “Well yeah she’s mine why do people think they can talk to her like that?” “Listen..I know you like to keep her wrapped up in this bubble of…safety but you’re not always gonna be around and…well she’s a cute girl so you’ve gotta just learn to deal with people making passes at her.” “I just know people will try to take advantage of her…I can’t fucking stand the thought of something happening to her because I wasn’t there and she doesn’t know how to defend herself.” “Then teach her.” “Teach her? Teach her what?” “How to tell someone to fuck off and defend herself…teach her how to feel confident enough to be able to stand her ground when you’re not there to do it for her.” “I don’t want to freak her out and teaching her how to hit someone will for sure…freak her out…” “don’t teach her to fight Eddie teach her how to say things with enough confidence that creeps and weirdos get the hint and leave her alone.” “I..how do I do that?” “I’ll help you okay? Just maybe bring her over sometime this week.” “She’s…just too nice sometimes…” “and that’s okay we just gotta teach her when to not be nice.” “Okay Roadhouse…”

“I got these for her.” “Oh tye dye socks…she’ll love these.” “Yeah? I wasn’t sure but I figured they were colorful and fuzzy for when she’s in the house and on sale so…I hope they fit.” “It’s socks Wayne they typically always fit but yeah…she needed new fuzzy ones she doesn’t like the flowered ones anymore they’ve gotten all dingy.” “I saw her in slippers the other day…I thought you had gotten rid of them because she kept trying to wear them outside the house?” “I tried…” “you tried?” “She looked like I just told her the tooth fairy wasn’t real when I tried to take them out of her closet…so yeah…she still has them.” “You’re such a softy…” “says the man worried about if she’s gonna like these fuzzy socks…” “i just want her to be comfortable while at home that’s all.” “Mhmm…right…” “listen you spoil her so damn much the least I can do is get her some damn socks okay?” “Okay…don’t worry she’ll love them.”

[bullet-prooflove]

Scars: Bobby Reyes x Reader

Tagging: @trublu2u @yezzyyae @witches-unruly-heart @kmc1989

Bobby’s been told from an early age that he’s broken, unwanted. It’s a message that’s been carved into his soul through years of abuse and neglect in the foster system. Everyday when he looks in the mirror he sees those scars, the cigarette burns etched in a pattern up his torso.

When things start to get serious between the two of you, he’s shy about showing you his body. The echoes of his history litter his skin and he isn’t sure he’s ready for you to see the ugliness of his life.

In his world you’re the sunshine, the warmth on his skin as he steps out into the springtime air. You don’t know about his darkness, the nights he can’t get out of his own head because he’s reliving the suffering he’s endured.

All of that goes out of the window the evening that you undress for him. It’s been getting heated between the two of you, needy kisses and slow grinding on the couch that leads to you coming on his fingertips, his hand thrust into your jeans. You look beautiful underneath him, fucked out with swollen lips from his kisses.

“There’s something I need to show you.” You say in the aftermath, slipping from the couch and raising to your feet. “It’s the reason we’ve been taking things slow.”

You don’t look at him as you unbutton the blouse that you’re wearing, you strip off the fabric to reveal your skin and he sees he’s not the only one that’s been keeping secrets.

Four years ago, there was an SVU investigation into a sex trafficker called Herman Holmes. He used to brand the girls with his initials, always in the same place, upon the curve of the left breast. He wanted to be able to see it when he fucked them, to know what they belonged to him. SVU had managed to get an operative into the organisation, a female detective to posing as a madam. It had turned into a shitshow when he’d taken a shine to her, decided to make her one of his girls. Bobby knows the story, every cop in Manhattan does because it’s a UC’s worse nightmare.

When he sees the brand on your skin, the ridges of it bright pink against your flesh, his jaw clenches. You were missing for over fifteen hours, and he knows the kind of bad shit that can happen in that time.

When you see the expression on his face, he feels you withdrawing. You swallow hard, your gaze turning distance as you begin to button up your blouse.

“Yea.” You say focusing on the task. “I thought as much.”

It’s happened before, he can tell. Someone has looked at you and decided you’re not worth their time, their effort. They’ve told you  that the trauma was too much to handle, that you’re too much. That’s not Bobby though, he sees the beauty in you, the compassion, the kindness.

He captures your hand before you can bolt, his fingers threading through yours as he draws you back into his lap.

“You’re not the only one who knows how cruel this world is.” He tells you, taking your palm and guiding it underneath the hem of his Henley. He exhales as your fingertips trace over one of the cigarette burns.  “Who knows what it’s like to be marked by it.”

“Bobby…” You whisper and his thumb ghosts over the apple of your cheek.

“You’re not ugly.” He tells you, pressing his forehead against yours. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met, and I’m sorry you felt you had to hide this from me.”

“You know that goes both ways. You’re an attractive man, I’d be lucky to have you” You say as you look into his eyes and in that moment he believes you, because you’re the same you and him, both battered by the world, scarred by it but not broken, never broken.

“You do have me.” He tells you, his lips brushing over yours. “You’ll always have me.”

Love Bobby? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Interested in supporting me? Join my Patreon for Bonus Content!

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[otomehoneyybearr]

Act 12

Episode 5: The Man Named K

Working w/ Maybelle Lace Note: As you read, you will see that some sentences highlighted in a different color, this is what they indicate.

Pink: Flashback Blue: Characters are acting

❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀

Reni: ...

Reni: (I thought I sensed a gaze on me, but… perhaps it was just my imagination?)

Reni: (No, you can never be too careful. I'll take the long way around just to be sure.)

Syu: You were being watched?

Reni: I can’t be certain, but I felt a strange gaze.

Syu: It’s possible Amadate’s trying to make his presence obvious as a way to intimidate us.

Syu: Well, at least there's no way to eavesdrop here.

Reni: The scheduled time with K was at 10 p.m., right?

Syu: Yeah. I'm already waiting in the meeting room.

Syu: It’s K. He’s here.

K: "Otomiya? It's K."

Syu: You're filtering your audio?

K: "I can’t just reveal my identity, you know."

K: "I’ll get straight to the point. You’re suspecting Amadate, aren’t you?"

Syu: That's right.

K: "As you might’ve guessed, Amadate is involved in shady dealings using underground organizations."

K: "Being at the core of the troupe, I can provide evidence to support that."

Syu: What specifically?

K: "Testimonies of a fake reporter who illegally copied Mankai Company's script, and data of the exchanges taken from Amadate's PC."

Reni: With those, we might be able to show the connection between Amadate’s interference and the underground organizations.

Reni: I would like to disclose the contents of that data at the upcoming board meeting.

K: "I'm also currently being suspected and watched closely by Amadate."

K: "Right now, I’m pretending to be meeting with external contractors, but if I send a large amount of data, I might be exposed."

K: "If it was just suspicion, we could handle it, but having evidence of a leak of confidential information would be bad for us."

Reni: Then what should we do?

K: "I’ll copy it onto a physical disc and hand it to you directly. You alright with that?"

Reni: That’s fine.

Syu: But even now, you're altering your voice. Won't it be a problem if you hand it to us in person?

K: "I'll wear a mask or whatever, so it doesn't matter."

Syu: Then let me ask you something. Why take the risk of doing business with us?

K: "Every deal has conditions, right?"

Syu: ...There it is. Is it money?

K: "I don't want any of that. I just have two conditions."

K: "First, in exchange for providing information, I’d like you to treat this strictly as a personal scandal of Keiju Amadate once you corner him.

K: "In order to ensure the continued existence of the Hyakka Theater Company, you’ll need to handle the information on the premise that the misdeeds of Amadate are unrelated to the Hyakka Troupe."

Reni: I see.

K: "The second condition is... the data must be received by the general director of the new Mankai Company themselves."

Reni: What?

K: "As long as I can give it to the general director, they won't interfere with who she gives the data to afterwards."

Reni: That’s...

Reni: The history between Amadate and Mankai dates back to the company’s first generation. If possible, we as the first generation, would like to sort things out ourselves.

K: "That is just your ego talking."

K: "As you can gather from the first condition, I intend to carry the Hyakka Theater Company on my shoulders after Amadate leaves."

K: "That's why I'm willing to take risks to settle Keiju Amadate’s actions."

K: "It would only make sense for someone who carries the future of Mankai Company to step forward from your side as well."

Reni: ...Give us some time to consider the second condition.

Syu: We can't afford to be leisurely about this. The next board meeting you'll be attending is next week.

Syu: This is a perfect opportunity to expose Amadate in front of the directors, and it’d be a painful waste if the data doesn’t make it in time..

K: "There is also another reason we should hurry."

K: "Amadate will definitely try to sabotage Mankai Company's next performance."

Reni: Well, that possibility is worth considering, but...

K: "Amadate’s always been obsessed with Hakkaku Ikaruga’s scripts."

K: "There was once a time when Hakkaku Ikaruga came to a rehearsal at Hyakka Theater Company. Amadate asked him to write a script that day but got turned down."

K: “He said that a certain theater company had already caught his attention."

K: "His grudge against Mankai Company might stem from reasons around that time."

Syu: If that's the case, the space performance created from Hakkaku's concept would be intolerable for Amadate.

K: "Because interference of the first part failed, he might do whatever it takes in the second part."

Reni: All for Hakkaku... Is that why he used Kusumi?

K: "It seems that for him, the script of Hakkaku Ikaruga was the final piece to completing his plays."

Syu: I can understand being drawn to someone’s work, but to go that far...

K: "Mankai Company was simply in his way. Back then, Yukio Tachibana and the theater company had a lot of momentum."

K: "There was a lot of buzz about them winning the Fleur Award and Yukio, simultaneously, becoming the youngest person to join the board of directors."

Syu: You must’ve been close with Amadate for a long time to know such things.

Syu: Are you– it can't be...

K: "Well then, consider other ways to have it delivered."

Reni: Hold on, the discussion isn’t over—

Reni: He hung up. However, it seems likely that K is someone within the Hyakka Theater Company.

Syu: What are we going to do?

Reni: If we can corner Amadate in the board meeting, the next performance should go off without a hitch.

Reni: However, we'd be putting her in danger instead of protecting her, like we should be doing...

Reni: Moreover, this is a grudge that has dragged on since our time. This is our responsibility.

Syu: You and I were both pretty mean to them, though.

Reni: ...Of course, I don't deny that. That’s why we can’t afford to burden them any further.

Syu: The new members of the troupe are young, but they aren’t weak. They have endured many hardships.

Syu: Yukio's daughter in particular is getting stronger with each one. Trust me and talk to her. The reality is, it's the only way.

Reni: ...You’re right.

Izumi: It's almost opening day...

Izumi: Finally, everything we’ve been preparing for the Fleur Award is finally taking shape...

Izumi: We’re almost there, Dad...

Sakuya: Izumi.

Izumi: ?

Sakuya: There’s something in Saku’s scene that caught my attention and…

Sakuya: Huh? Is that a photo from your recent trip?

Izumi: Yeah. It’s a picture I took with the actors and other staff members.

Izumi: All of the people had quit theater after that performance.

Sakuya: Huh? Really?

Izumi: Yeah, since there wouldn’t be a place to perform anymore.

Izumi: It really is a shame. Everyone worked so hard to make it a wonderful performance.

Izumi: But when I heard from Dad that there are people that cherish the memories of that fleeting moment in theater for a lifetime, I understood.

Izumi: It's amazing how a single moment of theater can become an eternity.

Izumi: For me, it was my dad who inspired me to start theater, so I’m glad I fit to see a stage that can be considered the roots of theater for him.

Izumi: Talking to Dad made me reevaluate my own directing and what theater meant to me.

Izumi: Traveling alone really gives you time to think about various things on the way there and back..

Izumi: It was a good way to look back at my life up until now and make decisions for my future.

Sakuya: That's wonderful.

Sakuya: I was also influenced by Saku and wanted to go on a solo trip, but I couldn't go because I had to take part-time shifts to make up for the time I was taking off during the performance period.

Sakuya: I will definitely go on one when I get the chance!

Izumi: Yeah, I think that'll be good.

Sakuya: In the past, it would have been unthinkable for me to leave the theater company that I had finally found my place in.

Sakuya: But, I started thinking that this is a place that I can always come back to.

Sakuya: I feel like I can naturally leave on my own now.

Izumi: When you do, I'd like you to tell me your stories as a souvenir.

Sakuya: Of course!

❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀

Prev | Next

▼・ᴥ・▼

[spookyspecterino]

Hornet and The Wasp

Tangerine x !Younger Sister Reader

Word Count: 5.6K

(Reader's codename is Wasp)

When you shadow Hornet, your big sister, on an 'easy' mission to kill a target and retrieve a silver brief case, neither of you are prepared for how hard it turns out to be.

SFW; Canon typical violence, AU/Canon divergence, blood, language, pining, slight age gap (Reader is 21, Tangerine is 32).

A/N: This was a request that I took and absolutely went off the rails with. I loved writing it so much, it was an absolute blast! I may write more for them in the future, I love a good sibling dynamic and there is so much potential here.

“Are you seriously going to wear that out of the bathroom?”

“Do you have a better idea? I can’t exactly walk into the employee lounge.”

“Isn’t someone going to be suspicious?”

“So? Momomon had to take a little bathroom break. Focus on getting the snake onboard.”

“This is easy, you know I have it covered… You always give me the baby tasks.”

“It’s because you’re a baby.”

“Am not.”

“My baby sister.”

You groaned, letting that serve as a response.

Across the busy train station, you saw your older sister exit the women’s restroom wearing the pink and white mascot costume. She passed several waving children without even turning to look at them.

You chided her over the comms piece in your ear. “Remember to act like a mascot, Hornet.”

 “I will once I get on the train, Wasp.”

Stepping forward, you received your ticket and went along your way through security. Having given a few well-placed bribes the day before, it was a breeze. No one even attempted to check inside your bags or the crate that carried the Boomslang snake. A baby task, just as you had said.

The outside air was crisp and biting as you exited the building and stood patiently waiting on the platform. There were only a few others outside, all had their heads down—hands in pockets; most preferred to wait in the comfort of the station. Trying to smooth your dress down with a hand did nothing to calm your impatience.

You rolled your shoulders, looking for the familiar form of a fluffy mascot, but seeing none. “I’m on the platform, what’s your position?”

“Dealing with some children. Be there shortly.”

“Good to hear you’re getting in some much-needed practice.”

There was a sound of grumbling before Hornet asked, “See anyone interesting waiting for the train?”

“By interesting, do you mean big scary killers or our pathetic little Russian child? Either way—oh!”

Your words were cut off as you were roughly bumped into and jostled forward. A strong hand caught your arm as you were about to stumble and pulled you back.

The man who held your arm in his warm grasp—a very good-looking British gentleman in his early 30’s with a mustache, was offering his apologies.

His eyes scanned your face and his hand lingered before pulling away slowly. “Terribly sorry, love.”

Behind him stood another gentleman, who had a softer face and wore a more casual, but still nice, jacket. He wasn’t looking at you as he hastily pulled a blanket around someone in a wheelchair. Off the back of the chair’s handles hung a silver briefcase.

You tore your eyes away from the mustached man to examine the person slumped over. Instinct told you that this wasn’t normal. Their head hung down toward their lap, no doubt unconscious, and there was a blanket around their shoulders, draped over their face.

The handsome man side-stepped to block your view. You caught sight of gold rings on his fingers. “Just trying to get our friend here ready for the train. Pardon us.”

From behind the wheelchair, the other man gave you a polite smile as he roughly wheeled their ‘friend’ away down the length of the platform.

Hornet’s tense voice came in through the comms. “Who was that? What happened? Wasp?”

Your eyes followed after the man in the suit, lavishly taking in the sight of his strong shoulders. “I think I may have found our targets. There’s good news and bad news. Which do you want first?”

There was a pause. “Bad news.”

“Ok, so bad news is our targets are being escorted by two men, thick British accents—no doubt hired for the job. The good news is one of them is positively gorgeous. I mean just a walking sculpture; you should see his mustache. Like, holy sh—"

“Wasp! Focus!”

Your eyes drifted down the platform toward the two men who were talking amongst themselves as they waited, settling on the one with gold rings. God, his fingers were thick. “Oh, I’m focused alright.”

“Jesus Christ—” There was an aggravated sigh before Hornet started over. “Ok, you said they were British? What does the other one look like?”

“Heavier set, a little taller, rounder face.”

“Shit, it’s The Twins.”

“Well, uh, no—I wouldn’t call them twins, per se…”

“That’s their whole thing. Don’t be fooled—they’re brothers. Their codenames are based off citrus fruit and they go absolutely crazy on jobs. Do not get near them, do not engage. You understand me, Wasp?”

Hornet’s words were lost as the approaching train rolled up into the station with an accompanying gust of cold wind that ruffled the edge of your dress. Your eyes were still on one of the twins when he turned and caught you staring. That was fine by you—his eyes stayed glued to yours as the train came to a halt.

Too far away to discern his expression, you wondered what he was thinking as he turned his body slightly toward you while still talking to his brother.

The sound of the train doors sliding open with a ding brought you out of your thoughts, and you broke the stare to look inside at the passengers exiting in a steady stream. When they had all filtered out, you cast one more look in his direction, pleased to see that he hadn’t stopped watching you, then boarded the train.

Inside, it was very nice. Rows of padded seats filled both sides. All of the passengers minded their own business, focused on what they had in front of them. Soft music and cartoons played over the speakers of TV’s around the cabin.

You spoke nonchalantly, unbothered by any of the passengers. “I’m on the train. Heading for the cargo hold.”

Your sister’s gruff voice came over the comms, she sounded grumpy. “Copy. Boarding now.” After a beat, she added, “You still haven’t given me your word that you won’t engage with The Twins.”

“That’s because I fully intend to, sis.”

“Absolutely not.”

You sighed dramatically as you passed through into the next cabin. “You always do this when men are involved.”

“Ok, first off, I’m your older sister—that’s part of my job. And second off, you are only 21 years old. That man, he’s probably in his 40’s—”

“—Early 30’s, at most.” You added a smile to your tone in an attempt at making her angrier, “And you know how much I love a mature man.”

“He’s dangerous, Wasp.”

“Ooh, even better.”

“Are you doing this just to piss me off? You did the same thing in Mexico at that wedding job.”

“That? Oh, that was forced. And quite honestly, he wasn’t leaving me alone.”

“…You should have told me.”

“What would’ve been the point? He wound up dead along with the rest of them, anyway.”

“I would have enjoyed poisoning them more.”

“Aw, big protective sis. All up in arms over me.”

The last door slid open to reveal a small closet-like room that held suitcases and bags. Finding an empty spot, you stashed the snake and made sure there was no danger of it falling or being moved.

You let your eyes wander and observe the other bags as you informed Hornet. “Our venomous friend is secure.”

“You have your shot of antivenom, right?”

Practically rolling your eyes into the back of your head, you replied while patting the leg it was strapped to, “For the thousandth time, yes.”

“Good, and don’t use the venom unless—”

“—Unless I have no other choice, I got it. You worry too much.” Peeking out of the small door’s window into the passenger cabin, you scanned the backs of the chairs. “When do I get to kill the little rat bastard with it?”

“Easy there, tiger. If all goes according to plan, you’ll only be watching.”

You pouted. “What? Why?”

“You’re only supposed to be shadowing me on these missions.”

“How am I gonna spread my wings and fly if you keep me in the nest?”

“You know how much I hate that saying.”

“It still applies.”

There was an angry huff from Hornet and she fell silent. Faintly in the background, you could hear the squeaking of the Momomon suit and children’s laughter. You exited the storage room and made your way back toward your seat at the front of the train.

As you entered the tail end of first class, your eyes caught sight of a familiar suit and slick-backed, brown hair. He was facing away from you, toward his brother who was fiddling with something in his lap. Your heart would have gone into overtime if your eyes hadn’t caught sight of The Son, one of your targets, sitting next to the window.

The little shit had apparently caught sight of you too, as he gave you a slimy smile. Repressing the urge to vomit, you smiled sweetly back.

Seeing the gross smile on the brat’s face, the stunning man turned around to see what he was smiling at and caught your eyes. The sweet smile on your lips turned genuine as his face lit up with recognition and the corners of his lips, mustache and all, curled into a crooked smile. You whished for the universe to create some kind of reason for you to stop next to them.

Apparently you had wished on a monkey’s paw instead, because you were about to pass by them when a heavy Russian accent stopped you. “Excuse me, beautiful.”

Turning, and feigning bashfulness—as if looking at this weird man-child wasn’t the last thing you wanted to do, you blinked at him and spoke softly. “Yes?”

He leaned forward, you could see the tattoos on his face pinch up as he smiled wider. “Let me ask you something, would you know where I could find some entertainment on this train?"

Was he serious?

You blinked at him, playing innocent. “Entertainment? I’m not sure what you mean.”

Hornet’s angry voice was in your ear immediately. “Who the fuck is talking to you like that?”

She almost drowned out his next words—that is, if he hadn’t been drawing them out like he loved hearing himself talk. “Yes, you know. A little companionship for a long—”

A heavenly British accent cut through to interrupt him “—Deepest apologies, my dear. Our friend here, has lost his manners.” A gold-ringed hand was white knuckled against the table as its owner leaned forward and shot glaring daggers at the Russian. His jaw clenched more than a few times.

“He’s not right in the head.” His brother across from him added, with a nod.

You met The Son’s gross eyes, right after they were done raking over your figure, and tilted your head, batting your eyelashes a few times. No point in wasting the opportunity.

“What’s your name?” You could have been a fuckin actress at this rate.

He opened his mouth to answer, but the man sitting next to him thumped his chest with a flat, heavy hand, holding him back and speaking for him. “His name’s Percy.”

Your eyes moved to examine his gentle face closely, without malice. You thought you saw little flecks of red on his shirt, just under the edge of his jacket.

“Right, and that’s Lemon,” golden rings pointed toward the man next to ‘Percy’, then back to their owner, “and I’m Tangerine.”

Turning to look between the brothers, you tried out their names, your smile spreading and infecting your voice as you said ‘Tangerine’. Something flashed behind his eyes as you said it.

“Wasp, you are not doing what I think you’re doing!”

You drowned your sister’s voice out as you focused on Tangerine’s words. “And what’s your name, love?”

Everything was going to plan, swimmingly in fact, until, “Was—..” you swallowed the rest of your codename, forgetting to make up something else instead and replying automatically. It sounded strangely cut off and like you had made a mistake.

Tangerine frowned a little, catching on the slip-up, eyes flicking over to meet Lemon’s. They shared a silent conversation. The tone of the interaction shifted drastically into something suspicious, you could distinctly feel it. The Twins were watching you closely, examining you.

The Son snorted, but it did nothing to ease the tension. “Your name is Wass?”

“Get out of there, Wasp. Go, right now. Turn and leave. I’m inbound.”

You lifted your chin a little, stubbornness shining through. “It’s foreign,” sassily, you added, “Percy.”

The Russian snapped his mouth shut with a glare. Tangerine studied you as Lemon asked, “And what brought you to getting on the train today?”

Just as you were about to make up an answer, a blond man with thick black glasses rushed through the cabin, clutching something square-shaped and covered in a green jacket, against his chest. He cast glances over his shoulder as he ran down the aisle. You, and The Twins, silently watched him pass by and into the next train car.

“Lemon, would you please go and check on…” Tangerine’s voice was full of uncertainty. You wondered where Hornet was. Lemon agreed, getting up from his seat, quickly following after the man.

The air had taken on a tight uncomfortableness that you weren’t keen on stewing in. “I think I’m going to return to my seat now—"

As you turned to go in the direction that the blond man had come from, the train door glided open, in the frame stood someone you recognized. Someone from the wedding job in Mexico.

And he looked pissed.

What the fuck was he doing here? The Wolf’s eyes instantly snapped to you. His head tilted to the side; dark brows furrowed. You saw the flash of recognition dawn on him. As his body tensed and he started forward, you whirled back to face the curious, albeit now suspicious, eyes of Tangerine.

You gave a breathy laugh that may have sounded like you were in pain, and your voice came out strained. “Please, excuse me.”

As the sound of thundering footsteps neared, you dashed away, dancing just out of reach from The Wolf’s grasping hand, past him, and through the door that he had entered from, without a second glance back.

Breathlessly, as you sped up your pace through the passenger cars, “Hornet, we got problems. We got big bad problems. The whole plan just went tits-up.”

“What’s going on?”

“The fucking Wolf is here! He’s seen me and obviously remembers me.”

“Why the fuck is he—Ok, doesn’t matter, get somewhere safe! Hide Wasp! I’m gonna make a run on the brat and then we can figure out where the briefcase is and get the hell off this train.”

“Pretty sure some guy—blond, glasses; 99% sure he has it!”

“Alright, just hide and stay there. Wait for me, I’ll be quick.”

“Yep—already on it!”

You rushed through the train cars looking for an empty place to hide. Mostly by sheer luck, you ran into an empty food station car. Bright, colorful bags of chips, snacks, and candies lined the wall behind the counter. You were about to hop over it when the door slid open and The Wolf barreled forward.

His hand grabbed you by the back of your neck and flung you against the opposite wall, knocking the comms piece out of your ear. The impact stunned you and he used the moment to pin you by the throat.

“You were at my wedding.” He growled in your face through gritted teeth. “I saw you flirting with my cousin.”

With his hand around your throat, it was hard to respond, but you croak out, “It was more like he was flirting with me. But no, you’re right, I was there—beautiful event, by the way.” You slowly dipped your hand into the small pocket of your dress.

He pulled you away from the wall to slam you back into it, now holding you at arm’s length. His head reared back to watch the pained expression on your face. Your fingers closed around something in your pocket at the same time as The Wolf brought out a long knife.

With a quiet voice, shaking from cold fury, he brought the knife up to point at your neck. “Did you poison mi familia?”

Whipping the syringe of Boomslang venom out, you attempted to stab him in the arm, or anywhere that you could reach. But he saw the movement and was faster as he knocked it away, sending the venom flying out of sight. He had just gotten his answer.

“Fuuuck.” You hissed, right before his hand pressed harder into your neck, it was getting very difficult to breathe. The knife jabbed into your pulse. You felt a bead of something hot roll down the length of your neck.

“You will pay for what you did.”

Squirming and struggling did nothing, only serving to drive the knife tip further in. Hot, thick blood began to trickle down into the collar of your dress, soaking the fabric. His hungry eyes watched your face twist in pain as he dug the knife in more. A dizziness washed over you, clashing with the buzz of adrenaline. The corners of your vision were starting to go black and you thought you might pass out.

“You know, mate, I honestly don’t think she’s capable of doing what you’re accusin’ her of.”

The wolf’s head whips around to the source of the voice.

Tangerine stood just in front of the door, adjusting the gold rings on his hand. His suit jacket had been discarded, shirt unbuttoned at the top, revealing a gold chain around his neck, and sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

He pointed to you. “I mean, look at her. Just a little kitten, that one.”

Tangerine tried to take a step forward, but The Wolf shouted a word of warning, twisting the knife into a position that would allow him to easily impale your neck with a shove of his arm. You tried to clear your eyes and keep yourself from passing out, but each blink became longer.

“Easy, easy…” Tangerine soothed. “No need to get nasty.”

From your position you could see Tangerine’s eyes flicking to you and to somewhere off to your right…

“She tried to poison me.” The Wolf argued back, glaring at Tangerine. “Just like how she poisoned everyone at my wedding.”

Your eyes drifted to the right and there was a perfectly placed metal coffee pot. Had that always been there?

Tangerine whistled, mockingly. “How many people were there? Are we talking a large event? Must have been quite impressive to get absolutely everyone in a single go.”

The Wolf’s grip on your neck lessened as he moved his body to face Tangerine. He was in the middle of snarling out a half-formed word as you swung the coffee pot up to connect with his head. There was a satisfying clang that accompanied his eyes rolling back, and he collapsed onto the ground, hard. He didn’t move again.

You stumbled, lowering the coffee pot as you tried to maintain your unsteady footing. It fell out of your fingers and thudded to the floor. Spots blotted out parts of your vision. Looking to the ground you searched for your comms piece, but the movement sent the world tipping. It was furthered by the sight of your dress collar being soaked in blood all the way down to your sleeve.

“Shit.” You hissed, lurching forward.

Sturdy, strong arms wrapped around your waist before you could hit the floor. Gently, much too gently for a contract killer, Tangerine lowered you to a sitting position up against the food counter. Your breath was coming out in fast and unsteady huffs while your eyes still raked over the ground.

You had to find your comms, you had to know where Hornet was.

Tangerine’s calming voice soothed your thoughts as he pressed a hand to your shoulder, keeping you from moving. “Hang on, steady now. I have to fix you up,” His incredibly blue eyes met yours, “before you go back out and get into more trouble.”

He takes your hand and presses it into your neck while he stands and looks around for any kind of first aid. As he rummages behind the counter you catch sight of your small comms piece and clumsily crawl toward it. You can hear the rummaging stop and his footsteps approach. Before you can reach the little ear bud, a gold ringed hand comes down and scoops it up. Your eyes follow it up to where Tangerine studies it, turning it in his fingers.

Glancing between you and the ear piece, he looks like he wants to say something, but decides not to. You only watch him with guarded eyes. He kneels down to level himself with you; there’s a first aid kit in one of his hands. Slowly, he holds out the ear piece without a word and you take it, bloody fingers brushing his.

He watches you with open curiosity as you shove it into your ear, never breaking eye contact with him. On the other end it sounds like Hornet is slipping clothes on over her head. You’re tempted to speak, to check in on her, but you can’t with Tangerine so close. You figure that if she’s still active that must be a good sign.

Tangerine’s eyes drift to look at your neck and he begins to open the first aid kit, pulling out medical supplies and bandages. He spreads the contents onto the ground around you.

Speaking casually, he rips open a packet of disinfectant wipes. “So, what’s your target?” he gives you a look with a glint in his eyes, “And don’t try to play coy with me, love.”

A small whine escaped you as the cold disinfectant touched your skin and stung. His eyes flickered to yours and back to what he was doing, if you weren’t mesmerized and watching his every movement, you’d have missed it.

Despite the stinging pain you grinned. “Did the earpiece give me away?”

A twitch of his mustache revealed his smile. “Actually, it was when you messed up saying your own name.” He lifted the wipe and observed the gash. There was a distinct playfulness in his voice. “Are you new at this?”

You gave him a scoff. “I’ve been on plenty of jobs.”

Noise played into your ear, starting with a mixture of voices. They were muffled, like something was covering the mic. There was crashing soon after, in between more voices. Maybe Hornet had found the briefcase.

Tangerine hummed, sounding amused. After a pause, he glanced at you again and toward your ear. “Who’s that over your comms? Your handler?”

“…Sister”

His fingers paused for a brief second and his smile grew. “Younger or older?”

“Older.”

“Aw, you’re on a little family operation? Positively adorable.”

Adding a challenge to your tone, “Same as you.”

His eyes flashed to yours and you took his silence as an invitation to continue. “Lemon—that’s your brother. I’ve heard a thing or two about you.”

He pulled the wipe away to change it out for a new one, it came away red, but you were starting to feel better. It felt like the bleeding had stopped. Tangerine half scolded himself. “I should have known you recognized us. Should have known from the moment you started a little chat.”

“Maybe I wanted to chat ‘cause I think you’re attractive.” You huffed. “It certainly wasn’t for that weasel.”

Tangerine can’t help his pleased smile, mustache twitching at the corners as his eyes sparkled. “Feelings mutual. I certainly enjoyed you coming over to talk, but I try to keep my desires in check while on a job.”

Clearly amused, and with an easy smile on your lips, you hummed softly. It was the closest you could get to laughing at the moment. “Why, honey? I’m cute.”

Tangerine’s smile broke into a slow spreading grin. He leaned in, feigning as if he was concentrating on cleaning the cut, but he could see just fine before. His breath was soft and warm on your face; a pleasant contrast to the cold disinfectant he spread on your skin.

“No argument there, sweetheart.”

He pulled the wipe away; it was less red than the last. Your attention follows his hands as he picked up another. It was curious to see such a soft side from one of the notorious contract killer Twins.

Your eyes hold his as you speak. “Guess I owe you—for saving my life.”

“This? Ah, only a scratch. You’ll be up in no time.”

A look dances in his eyes, maybe a realization, and something in the air crackles between the short distance of your faces. “But, I won’t turn you down—if you’re offering.”

There was a sudden loud gasping and calling of your name over your comms. It wasn’t Wasp—but your real name. Hornet was calling for help, cutting out intermittently through crashing and what sounded like gulps of air.

“Shit!” You shout, making Tangerine pull back in confusion.

His brows furrowed instantly as he watched you scramble to your feet, swaying slightly. He didn’t have time to stop you or even call out before you were pelting down the train car and out the sliding door. He jumps to his feet running after you. As he passes through the door you’re already at the end of the next cabin. You might not be strong, but you’re fast.

“Hornet! Hornet, what’s wrong? What’s your position?”

“Stabbed with venom. No antidote…Wasp...”

Adrenaline coursed through your veins, making your mind race. “Fuck! I’m inbound—just stay put, ok?”

There was no response and your chest tightened. At most, you had 30 seconds to get to her before…oh god, you couldn’t think about that.

Behind you, about a train car and a half away, Tangerine gets a phone call. He would ignore it usually, but the caller ID was a lemon emoji so he answered while running.

“Yeah? Kinda busy.”

“The Son is dead.”

“Fuck, you’re joking…”

“Bleedin’ out of his eyes—a real frightful mess.”

“Clean ‘em up. I’ll meet with you soon as I’m done.”

“…What are you doing? Are you bloody running?”

Tangerine hangs up the call and shoves the phone back into his pant pocket.

You burst through a door and into the bar car, the yellow glow of the lights giving the room an almost cozy feeling. That would have been the vibe if you hadn’t come in to find the place an absolute disaster, and your sister, now wearing a train personnel uniform and hat, bleeding out of her eyes as she tries to grip at things along the floor.

The blonde man is stumbling out of the opposite end door with the silver case in hand. As he sees you, he starts to say something, but stumbles right into Lemon as the door slides open. He spins around and as the door shuts there’s the muffled sounds of shouting.

You ignore everything and fly to Hornet, who’s barely moving. Tracks of blood run down her face like tears, it’s a sight that will haunt you for the rest of your life. The dose of antivenom, strapped to your leg, was yanked out and shoved into her neck as fast as humanly possible.

Picking her head up off the ground, you cradle it. “It’s ok, I’m here. It’s ok. Please be ok.”

Seconds tick by as you hold your breath, and it feels like an eternity before her choking stops and her breathing returns to normal, but she remains unconscious.

Tangerine comes rushing through the other door and stops to take in the scene. He’s out of breath and panting heavily, sweat shines on his forehead and neck. His eyes find you on the ground cradling, who he assumes, is your sister. Then he noticed the blood coming out of her eyes.

“Who got your sister?”

You wiped a strand of hair off her face, “No one, well, her own venom did this.”

He stops to think for a beat. “Your sister is The Hornet?” Then pauses, the gears in his head turning “You’re The Wasp?”

If this had been any other time you would have beamed that someone like Tangerine knew about you, or had at least heard of you. But the only thing you felt now was a slow sense of dread inching into your veins.

You can see the emotions crossing his face one at a time. “Your sister killed The White Death’s Son. He was part of our contract.”

You spoke slowly, your expression cautious. “That prick and the fucking briefcase were our targets.”

Tangerine’s brow furrows, drawing a deep line into his forehead. His blue eyes were dark with what looked like equal measures of worry, concern, and something else.

Your body tenses, unsure of what Tangerine was going to do next. If he wanted to fight, you had your qualms over that and you preferred not to, but you would sooner die than let anything get through to your sister.

He takes a slow, drawing breath. His following words are careful, even, measured. “The White Death is gonna be at the last stop in Kyoto. I’m going to need to bring in the person responsible for his son’s death…”

The consequences of failing to do so were heavily implied as his voice trailed off, letting you imagine them for yourself. Your grip tightened around Hornet.

To Tangerine you looked more dangerous now than you had ever before; fiercely beautiful in every way, but ready to strike in the blink of an eye.

“Take that other guy then—the one who ran out of here with the briefcase. Blonde man, thick, black glasses. I think your brother was about to intercept him… As for me and my sister, we’ll get off at the next stop. You can have the briefcase—I don’t give a fuck about it anymore. Just let me take my sister to the hospital.”

He chewed his lip momentarily, looking like he was going to argue, before you added, “Please.”

That last little ‘please’ came out small and vulnerable. It was so out of character for you that it surprised Tangerine into dropping his guard. Looking down at the sight of you on the ground cradling your sister, he saw himself in you, just trying to protect your sibling; keep them safe against all odds in an extraordinarily dangerous profession.

However, when he didn’t respond—didn’t move or react, something shifted into your expression and body language. Something defensively hostile. Your eyes watched Tangerine with a palpable intensity that made his heart beat wildly fast. There was an unpredictability there that reminded him of a trapped animal, one that was about to make its escape through you, mauling anything in the way.

Desperation, and giving how fast you could be, Tangerine would likely be stabbed before he could get a shot off. Maybe before he could even bring himself to pull the gun out. The last thing he wanted was to fight you.

10 minutes ago, he was going to suggest dinner. Now, he wasn’t sure he was going to live to get the chance. What a tragedy that would be.

The silence was now bordering on suffocating as you simply stared at one another. It was finally broken by Tangerine’s long, winded release of a heavy breath. Had he been holding it? The pain in his lungs suggested so.

He ran a tremoring hand through his hair, attempting to tame the curls that sprung free. “Yeah, that could work.”

To his relief, the intensity dropped almost immediately and your piercing eyes left his and went back down to examine Hornet. You move her, preparing to pull her up.

Tangerine helps, slinging her arm around your shoulder. Just in time for the next stop. As the train slows down, he escorts you to the door, supporting Hornet’s other arm.

He takes your hand for support as you get off the train and step onto the platform. He doesn’t let go and you look up at him as he half hangs out of the doorway. His eyes look worried, full of unspoken words. You must look the same, because you can see him fighting to say something. You let go of his hand, noticing the resistance from his end, and dig around in your pocket producing a piece of paper. You shove it toward him.

Tangerine frowns slightly, looking down at it as he gingerly takes it. The dinging sound of the train and the swish of the doors starting to close force him back inside. He stands by the door, watching you out of the small window, eyes locked with yours, as the train begins to speed away. The touch of his hand on yours lingers.

Once out of the station, Tangerine leans against the wall. He looks down at the little piece of paper that he realizes is a tiny, handmade business card. One side was a picture of a wasp; flipping it over, he sees a phone number and smiles.

About 5 minutes later you get a text while riding in the back of an ambulance next to Hornet.

It’s from an unknown number. The first thing sent is an emoji of a Tangerine. Then:

Did you make this business card yourself?

You respond back,

Yes, thought I’d need something if I want to go professional one day.

His response is immediate.

It’s cute.

Thank you.

He sends a message a minute later and you smile to yourself as you read it, hearing his voice in your mind.

I didn’t get a chance to ask earlier, and I think it’s a shame that I have to over text, but how about we talk more. Over dinner?

Thought you would never ask. Where are you getting off the train?

🍊 Taglist: @whatiswrongwithpeople

[muzzlemouths]

Prompt: Hypothermic

Moon centric // Wordcount: 2407

You can recall the exact decisions that brought you to this point.

It started with a favor. Your coworker had a family emergency and needed to be out of there ASAP, but with an hour left to their shift, and no reason to expect that the company would honor the need behind their sudden departure, they were left with no other choice but to drop the remaining duties onto someone else.

You had generously offered to take on said responsibilities - after all, you had only just clocked out, and the required tasks could be done in a cinch. Off the clock, of course, so management wasn’t on your ass about overtime.

That was mistake number one.

Your second mistake came in the form of a locked door and pure, unadulterated stupidity.

The assignment had been simple; locate the walk-in freezer, find a spare bag of ice, and bring it to the food court. Easy. It was your last task of the night and there was absolutely, positively, no way you could fuck it up.

That brings you back to the here and now, where you stand blank-faced behind a solid, steel door, locked up tight from the outside, with no way out in sight.

You hadn’t bothered to prop the door open. In your defense, you didn’t think that was ever something you would need to even consider. Why bother installing a door - a door to a room that had the potential to make fucking employee-popsicles - that for some forsaken reason locked from the outside?

But this was Fazco. you were talking about. The number of poor design choices ranging from infrastructure to animatronic virus protection was so grand it exceeded the fingers on both hands. Of course they would design a freezer that turned into a deathtrap. Why make things easy for you? When have they ever!

Rant aside, you were in some serious trouble.

Your fists, pink and tender, ached with the force at which you beat them against the door and shook at the handle, your fingers having already gone numb, and trembling for another reason entirely.

Did you know most industrial freezers are kept at 0 Fahrenheit? That’s -17 Celsius. Thirty-two degrees under what is required to make snow.

You don’t have a jacket. Hell, you don’t even have long sleeves. You’re wearing the company uniform - a crew neck, polyester - and some old jeans. The forecast called for a steady breeze, not the fucking arctic plains.

Panicking won’t do you any good. You tell yourself this, mumbling it between chattering teeth, like a mantra, long after you’ve already given panic a fair shot. The panic came first from the very moment you realized you were trapped, only increasing when a failed attempt to call for help revealed that service wasn’t available in the deep freeze. Now it was time to be cool headed (pun intended), or you faced a near zero chance of escaping with your life.

Funny. You had always assumed, in the back of your mind, that your final breaths would be taken by this stupid company. But certainly not like this. Not by becoming freezer food.

No, think! You can’t afford to dawdle, not now, when the clock is already tick-tick-ticking away. You pace in circles, taking up the entirety of the 6'x 6' space, until remembering that movement increased blood-flow to your extremities and that warmth wasn’t coming back. So you sit, instead, regardless of how cold the floor is against your ass, and you put all of your remaining energy (what’s left of it, dwindling by the minute) into figuring out a proper plan.

You don’t have any medical knowledge beyond the first-aid training the pizzeria requires upon hiring, but you do have a handful of useless history knowledge - useless until today, that is. You pour over any detail from the books that might save you here and then recall a horrifying piece of trivia from your brief obsession with the Titanic; survivors had been cast into water that was 28 degrees, with the longest average of survival being forty-five minutes, and the shortest being only fifteen.

You sat in air twenty-eight degrees cooler. The clock in your phone tells you that five minutes have already passed. There is no life boat coming to your rescue.

Okay, so that information doesn’t exactly help your situation. If anything, it only rouses your panic into its second stage, and it takes everything to keep yourself from adding hyperventilation to your list of worries.

Speaking of symptoms, you were feeling your fair share of those already.

Shivering, obviously, pale fingers and exhaustion to name a few more, shallow breath, to boot, but that may be the panic. Though you try and try again to press your fingers to your wrist you come back short every time, your heart is screaming but your pulse is practically nonexistent, a bad sign to say the least.

You haven’t felt the urge to rip your clothes off, yet. You have that going for you if nothing else.

Another minute passes. Six in total. You find yourself leaning against the icy door despite the chill it brings to your already cold skin, if only from a lack of energy to keep yourself upright any longer. The breath forming in front of you feels like the warmest part of yourself right now, and slowly, doubtlessly, you feel yourself waning. Growing slow. Growing stiff.

You again try your phone, its 26% battery staring back at you uselessly. The call doesn’t go through, and neither do the texts. The back of your hand slams against metal in a another futile attempt to gain the attention of someone, anyone, who might be passing by. Again, and again, and again. Nothing. Your knuckles come back bloody and raw.

Something coils in your chest - terror and nausea all at once - it’s let out as a scream that echoes against the walls of this closed-in room and does not escape beyond it. You clocked out half an hour ago, the pizzeria having already closed before then. As far as your fellow coworkers are concerned you had already long since headed home. There stood no reason to check the kitchens or question your absence at all.

You are going to die here.

The thought doesn’t alarm you as much as it should. That realization in itself, however, does send some fickle wave of concern through your nerves, though there’s little energy remaining to do anything about it. Eight minutes have now passed since the door locked behind you. Thoughts come slow if at all, and your cries for help - slurring, now, you laxly notice - eventually fall silent.

Your hands run once over the goosebumps in a last ditch attempt to find some heat and you now realize, with a faint and humorless laugh, that even your shivering has come to a stop. A bad sign. The worst yet. Your world begins to fade one shadowy star before your eyes at a time.

Then comes the tapping. Nails on metal. Deliriously, you stare down at your own hands to see if you’re the one doing it, only to find them still wound tight around your elbows. The curious sound repeats, and then the door–

It opens.

Your body, still tucked in on itself, drifts forward all together with the weight of the metal as it’s drawn wide. And who enters next and stares down at you other than the man of the hour himself. Moon fucking drop. You’ve never been happier to see him.

At the same time, you think you’d rather take freezing to death.

“Breaks aren’t extended by hiding in freezers,” he says with a sneer, but it’s cut short, the smile wiped right off his stupid little face, and for a moment you swear you see his eyes change. Maybe it’s the delirium, but you see blue. For the very first time you see blue. And then he blinks, and the red returns, and he’s bending at the waist and shoving a cold hand against your forehead. “Bad.” Is all he says, whispered still. You don’t try to stop your laughter.

“Y-Yeah,” a cough escapes you, dry and heaving, “‘s real bad. C’n you help meyup?” You can’t believe the jumbled words even as they escape your dry, paling lips. Never before have you asked him for help, and hopefully, the occasion would be a first and a last. You expect nothing but mockery from him at the show of vulnerability.

Yet he bends ever further, bypassing your weakly extended hand all together in favor of gathering you into his arms. It’s awkward, at first, a hasty grab under your armpits that would have you squirming were it not for the cold stiffness in your limbs, and you hate to admit it, but the way he cradles you after - one hand tucked under your backside and the other pressed flat to your shoulders - it makes you relent. Your head falls against his shoulder with an effortless thud, and your arms wrap around him, feeling secure as they do so, the only thing on your mind being how warm he feels in that moment.

Before your eyes can fall shut completely you see him heading for the front entrance, and the confusion that realization carries with it stirs you from the seven layers of brain fog only enough to question him, “Wh’r we going?”

“Management,” the word is hissed, said flat, “hospital.”

“Wh’t?” That, if nothing else, brings you back to full attention. As much of it as the fog can spare, anyway. “Put me d’wn, ‘m fine,” you wade through layers of breaching unconsciousness to get the words out, and clearly, he doesn’t buy it, not even slowing to them, “Moon, don’t,” you try more insistently, “Please, I c’nt afford it. ‘ll be f-fine.”

This time, he slows to a stop, staring down at you with uncertainty. “Bad.” He repeats again, “Too cold.” The hand at your back raises to press sweetly against your forehead once more, “Hypothermic.”

His eyes scan the room, flickering back and forth before settling on a stream of light in the distance, and you watch him consider.

“No,” you coerce your head into shaking, the weight of it feeling like a slab of concrete on your neck, “n’t Sun either, he’ll j’st freak out.” Sluggishly, your head lifts to a point where you can kind of see his face, “I just need’a blanket, tha’s all.” Then, with a smile (albeit forced, and obvious about it), you add some cheek, “you’re good a’ blanket stuff, right, starboy?”

The way he stiffens around you signals your success. If nothing else, taking advantage of his attitude and making it conductive to your own needs remains one of your finest skills, and a habit you would milk until it inevitably came back to bite - or perhaps in Moon’s case - kill you. Today, however, he appears willing to cave, acting as if he’s truly worried about you. And maybe he is. But that was a question to pick apart another day.

For now, he seems fit to listen to your pleas, and you’re swept off to the daycare, instead.

It’s engulfed in darkness upon entering, as to be expected. Moon’s eyes cast an eerie red glow as he carries you further into the room. Bracing you firmly against him, he crouches by a chest of blankets and begins to pull one out, only to abandon the effort and instead take hold of the trunk’s side handle, dragging the heavy thing all the way to a corner fitted with bean bags and a crate of stuffed animals.

It’s here where he settles with you still in his arms, falling into a particularly large bean bag with a loud and tired sigh, and soon after reaching in for the chest again and drawing the cover away. While one hand stays snug around your waist, the other brings a patchwork blanket over your body, tucking it against your neck and shoulders, then he dives back in for a second blanket, and then a third, thoroughly nesting you beneath each one.

There’s little else for him to do here. He isn’t a doctor, he has no tools, no methods of getting heat into your body at a speed that’s more appropriate, so he goes about it the old fashioned way.

His other arm dips beneath the covers and together, both hands sooth over your exposed skin, drawing natural heat to the surface with careful, measured touches that feel like hellfire on your skin, but only briefly.

At one point he tugs at the hem of your shirt, and you smile into his chest, still somewhat loopy, “You aren’t gett’ng it off,” you tell him, all but mumbling, “I d’nt care how much it might help.”

“Cheeky,” comes his swift reply, “Just checking.”

“F’r what?”

“That they aren’t wet,” he says, “I don’t know how long you were trapped.”

“Mm,” your eyes fall shut again, “too long,” you say, “but ‘s fine now.”

He makes a noise in the back of his throat, muttering something that you don’t quite catch. Before you can bring it up, however, his hands distracted you, moving down your spine in soothing circles and then dipping kindly beneath your shirt, his palm flattening against the bare small of your back. “You should be more careful,” he says.

Your head lolls to the side, making an effort to look up at him once more, and you smile with a tease, “What, were you worried ab’t me?”

“Yes.”

Oh. The sass dies on your tongue.

When you smile again, this time, it’s something genuine, “Good thing you came to my rescue, then.” your eyes flutter closed, the weight of them too much to bear, “m g’nna take a little nap, okay?”

In the morning you’ll realize. Your words will come back to haunt you, and your willingness to let your guard down with him won’t go unnoticed. But tonight, you are content to stay just like this. Moon tucks his chin over your head and holds you in a way that makes you feel safe, nestled between three layers of blanket and a chest that plays you lullabies.

“You’re drinking some tea when you wake up,” he chides - but it’s soft, a whisper against your ear, followed by an exhale, you feel him smile against your head. “Nighty night,” he lulls.

Your heart beats warmly against his chest.

[happypanda101]

How Sakura’s Love Interest Ruined Her Character Development

Alright. I promise this is the last Sakura related content I’ll do for a while. But after seeing several other people on here talk about about this subject, I thought it would be interesting to discuss. This isn’t gonna be a full on analysis, rather my thoughts as someone who loves Sakura and was disappointed to see how her character was handled in canon.

I think a lot of the fandom can be agree that Sakura’s biggest flaw was her love for Sasuke. Love is typically supposed to be a character’s strength, but unfortunately for our pink cherry blossom, it’s her weakness. And her downfall.

Now, I’ve already made it clear what my feelings on SasuSaku are. I like the pairing, they could have been better developed and aren’t nearly terrible as people claim they are. However, it would be ignorant of me to not acknowledge that canon Sasusaku is… kinda shitty.

Don’t get my wrong, they have their cute moments in blank period, like Sasuke asking Sakura to wear the clan crest, but things start going downhill when they get married and the plot of Burrito rolls around. Sakura is left to be a single mother while Sasuke is off god knows where for that stupid space alien/ “remains of Kaguya” whatever plot. Sasuke never writes to check up on his family, it’s implied that Sarada doesn’t remember him at all or what he looks like, and Sakura is left there trying to assure her poor daughter that Sasuke is doing this because he loves them. But when Sasuke comes back, he rarely acknowledges or wants to spend time with them at all. Not to mention, he seems to care more about Naruto’s kid than his own. Naruto suffers from this problem as well, but that’s a discussion for another time.

For the canon endgame, Kishimoto certainly doesn’t write any of his characters being happy in their relationships.

Anyway, Sakura and her character development. It may not have been grand as her teammates, but it was still there. Sakura went from a naive girl that was obsessed with boys and her looks to someone who acknowledged that she had to work harder if she wanted to help and protect those she cared for. She went from disliking and envying Naruto to someone who was willing to throw her ninja career away so her friend could follow his dream. She wanted to help Naruto to bring Sasuke back, but realized she wasn’t strong enough, so she went to Tsuande for help and become a damn good medical ninja as a result. She became more confident in herself and was always there to support her friends. She never needed an epic fight or a tramatic backstory, I would say her development was pretty great.

But then all of that gets thrown away whenever Sasuke comes into the picture. Sakura may be able to stand up for others, but never does she stand up for herself when it comes to Sasuke. When he belittles her in the War Arc for simply asking him what was going on, she gets all quiet and sad. Defeated. Worst part is that Naruto can’t even stand up for her properly.

The kunoichi who broke off Kaguya’s horn and aided in sealing her, therefore saving the world, is left a begging, whimpering mess for Sasuke to come back to her, to come back to team 7. And what does she get in return? A genjustu of him killing her.

And just when you think oh this has to finally get her to realize that she can do so much better than him, or at least get her to step back and reevaluate her feelings, let her spend time away from him, it’s just forgotten about! Forget traumatizing and hurting her, it’s okay because Sasuke apologized and now she wants to go with him. Don’t get me wrong, I do think that was a genuine apology, but the fact that she was just expected to forgive him at the snap of a finger was infuriating. And down right sad.

It doesn’t help that nobody else comments on it, or tells Sakura “hey, what he did was pretty shitty, you didn’t deserve that.” Or stand up for her at all. Kakashi kinda did, but it was so weak.

In Naruto, a woman’s role is to support the men, because what else are they good for? And if they ever move on from a guy they like, they’re a “terrible person,” in Kishimoto’s words. Whatever improved or developed Sakura’s character, it reverted backwards or was simply forgotten for Sasuke. Because Sakura loves him, she can never disagree or argue or fight with him, because that would make her a bad person.

Sakura had the potential to become one of the greatest heroines in anime, but that was all thrown away becasue of her misogynistic creator and his idiotic editors. She deserved better, every female character in Naruto deserved better, and burrito should have never happened because it’s an abomination to the Naruto franchise.