#your pretty white privileged mouth should know when to shut the fuck up

[rainbenrry23]

🤔

[mauesartetc]

I've seen it stated in a comment on reddit that Blitzo "deserved what happened to him at Ozzie’s. He forced himself on M&M’s date and then went out of his way to draw attention to himself KNOWING fizz was there. The entire event was a result of his own actions. Hell, Stolas treated it as an actual date and at least tried to make an effort to be sweet."

They also said:

""I’d like an acknowledgment of Blitz being the one who was in the wrong and admitting it himself. Stolas may be an out of touch rich aristocrat yes, but Blitz was neglecting him and taking advantage from the start. Stolas arguably had no reason to suspect that objectifying blitz was a problem considering he never seemed bothered by it until Ozzy’s. I’d like to think the hospital scene is what is starting the process of Stolas finally realizing blitz can’t be helped until he helps up himself and deals with his issues."

And I'm like: wtf? Are you seriously making Stolas into the injured party despite all the cr*p he has done? Hes the one who has apologizing to do; for objectifying and fetishizing Blitzo all while looking down on imps.

The last part stinks of not wanting white/privileged people to take accountability for microaggressions based on the excuse of them being "innocent".

Sorry, I know this is wildly beside the point, but:

cr*p

Dude, this is Tumblr, not TikTok. You don't have to censor yourself here. You don't have to make every word you write commercially viable. It's okay. Be free, little bird! Spew expletives left and right if you feel so moved!

I want everyone to feel free to speak their minds on this blog, and if that includes a few naughty words, so be it. Besides, I'm pretty sure no one's getting in trouble at work for reading a post that contained the word "crap".

Anyway, to the more pressing issue at hand: It's important to recognize at all times that these are fictional characters, not real people. They are puppets whose actions are dictated by writers. Yes, giving characters the illusion of agency when writing stories is a great way to engage your audience, but when analyzing stories, you have to focus on why the people who wrote them made the choices they did. Debating which character was in the wrong, or which character was more wrong, or which one should apologize, yadda yadda yadda, is a futile fucking exercise if you don't include the writers' intent in that conversation.

Let's look at Blitzo. He pretty objectively caused most of what went down at Ozzie's. He followed Moxxie and Millie, he invited Stolas, he drew attention to himself when he knew people who hated him were present. Now that last one seems pretty stupid, like the kind of mistake no one of sound mind in the real world would ever reasonably make. We could spend all day speculating what about his personality would lead him to do this, whether it's zero sense of self-preservation, a subconscious desire for self-sabotage, or simple inability to keep his damn mouth shut, but here's the thing: Other Helluva Boss characters have the same problem. To reiterate what I said here:

"Why did Octavia fully forgive her dad, no questions asked, even when he couldn't explain why he cheated on her mom? If Loona hates being around Blitzo so much, why didn't she just stay with the succubi on the beach? [...] Why did Moxxie make a huge romantic gesture in an environment where such gestures are frowned upon? [...] Why did Stolas bring an imp to a couples-only club despite knowing it'd ruin his reputation?"

The answer to all these questions is "because the plot demanded it." The writers wanted a certain outcome and wrote themselves into a corner before they could reach it organically. Instead of putting themselves into the characters' shoes or retracing their steps to make the endpoint feel like a logical conclusion, they just said "fuck it" and brute-forced the easiest solution, causing the result to make no goddamn sense.

Given the level this writing is on, it feels kinda pointless to argue with internet strangers over which character was in the right and which one wasn't. Subsequent episodes haven't addressed the events of "Ozzie's" (at least not in a way that means anything), leading me to believe the writers never cared enough about them to spark any sort of in-depth conversation. So why should we?

Honestly, this person just sounds like a Stolas simp. It's kind of a leap to assume they don't want real people of a certain race and class to bear responsibility for their actions. It's not that deep. None of this is that deep.

[waitingforeddyneddy]

Hollywood is literally blacklisting people who speak out about Israel being a genocidal state which is why many actors/musicians etc are staying silent.

Boycotting paramount won’t do shit. The only thing that will help Palestinians is pressuring the people who have political power to help save them. Y’all’s slacktivism is really insane and annoying.

As for JB traveling to Israel - people in the west, particularly the US and UK are not taught about Palestinians, Nakba, etc. From an early age they’re all taught that Israel is the one being oppressed. You’ll see many people who have traveled to Israel prior change their stance once they educate themselves.

I will take an actors silence over the over Zionism of other Hollywood stars. Bella Hadid is getting literal death threats for speaking out. And as someone who works in Hollywood, I know for a fact, as I said earlier, people are being blacklisted for even being pro “ceasefire” which is the bare minimum.

People are bringing up simone because you’re a stan of hers, which is fine, but she also hasn’t said shit about Palestine or Israel, as is her right, because people are being fired left and right for standing on the right side of history.

Hate JB all you want, I literally don’t care, I’m not even a huge fan of him at this point but people are calling out your hypocrisy and jumping to conclusions about who is a Zionist and who is not. JB went to Israel years ago, yes (I didn’t even see the pictures tbh that’s how far removed I am from celebrity socials), from all accounts was called out for it. Deleted the pictures and who is to say that he DIDN’T educate himself? He hasn’t posted any pro Israel shit since then and has smartly kept his mouth shut for now because he knows his project was produced by Zionists. I guarantee most of these people are terrified to say anything.

Major kudos to Nicola since she is the ONLY one in the bridgerton cast who has been unabashedly vocal about #freepalestine. Which is funny since most of you freaky kathony Stans HATE her. (And before you start I literally hate Penelope and Colin so don’t even try to paint me with a stan brush)

Your comments are irresponsible trying to paint JB as a Zionist when we have no fucking clue where his position lies. Much like we don’t know where simone’s, charithra’s, Rege’s, Luke’s, Luke’s, etc lies. Instead check out that list of actors who signed no hostage left behind - those are the real people you should take issue with.

Start protesting and calling your politicians. Boycotting paramount won’t do shit to help Palestinians. The US’s President is co-signing genocide right now and he is only gonna give a shit if he thinks he’s in danger of losing the next election. (Not saying you’re from the US - just giving this as an example).

I was about to respond to each of your points but then I saw you wrote “you freaky kanthony stans” and I honestly can’t take you seriously.

I also don’t believe you when you say you’re not a huge JB fan cause you sound pretty angry and out of breath. Your constant saying “boycotting Paramount won’t do shit” is ridiculous cause nobody here is saying it will end the conflict. It’s just a way to get back at them by not providing money for their subscription and going for 🏴‍☠️ if you really are interested in the story and if you just wanna watch your fave’s new project

Also LMAO at you for saying JB wasn’t educated about Israel, fucking stop saying a privileged white man who comes from money doesn’t know. Every fucking western country supports Israel in the media that doesn’t mean we are mindless robots. I live in southern Italy, I’ve been against Israel since the moment I started to develop critical thinking skills despite my humble upbringing and social status 🤡

It’s pathetic, stop with this bullshit

[kurosukii]

𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞

pairing: kuroo tetsurou x f!reader

summary: your relationship is filled with nothing but teasing touches and pleasured sighs, until you tell him that you want to take it to the next level.

genre: smut, fluff, aged up au, established relationship au

warnings: 18+. virginity loss (it’s a social construct but for the sake of smut...), riding, dirty talk, fingering, face-sitting, size kink, nipple play, chest play(??), oral (f receiving), multiple orgasms, praise kink, unprotected sex, finger sucking, pet names (kitten)

word count: 5.8k

author’s note: koo is the loml. that’s it. (this was the hardest for me to write so far since ✨feelings✨ are involved). this is somewhat the nsfw continuation to safety net but it can still be read alone, i just referenced some things™️. (let me know if i missed any warnings!) (MINORS DNI)

° thank you so much @kurinoot for editing <33

[5:02 PM]

“if you don’t stop tickling me, i’m going to bite you!”

you squealed as you lightheartedly threatened your boyfriend. you were trying to swat his attacks away from your neck and waist as his lean body hovered over yours, but he was just too big for you to throw him off.

“i dare you to bite me, kitten. i’ll just bite you back!” he exclaimed as he raised his head from your neck, with nimble fingers still pressing on to your sides. he laughed at your dumbfounded expression and went back to blowing raspberries on your neck and tickling the dips in your waist.

you would say that you’re tired of kuroo’s childishness, but you would only be lying to yourself. you loved how he was so carefree every time the two of you were together, and you couldn’t be more grateful that kuroo was such an attentive and doting boyfriend. sure, you had your fair share of doubts and insecurities when the two of you first started dating in high school, but it was never because of him. no, it was all you and your past inhibitions. however, kuroo never fails to squash your negative thoughts to the ground.

when you would observe him, you’d remember how the two of you confessed to each other over chemistry homework and you’d just burst out laughing at how it was such a kuroo way for your feelings to be known to each other.

when he asked what made you so happy, you’d always say you and he’d end up making a face but kiss your lips softly a few moments after. those soft kisses don’t last long because they would turn into heated makeout sessions that would leave you gasping for breath.

a few weeks into dating, kuroo admitted to you that he was planning on confessing by making a nonchalant comment here and there and leave you to nitpick what he said. he claimed that it wasn’t to ‘disrupt’ your strong friendship and ‘startle’ you, but you know him like the back of your hand—he was just as nervous as you were.

now that you’re a year or two into dating, being with him just felt so right, like all the puzzle pieces fell into place and formed the beautiful jigsaw of a relationship that you have with him. at first, you were worried that your dynamic with him would change because you weren’t just best friends anymore; you were now involved with each other romantically.

when you told kuroo about it, he would always encourage you to tell him what you were feeling. he would just flick your forehead and tell you that you have nothing to worry about and he was right.

you wouldn’t change a thing about your relationship with kuroo tetsurou, except for one thing.

you have yet to ‘consummate’ your relationship, and it it may seem crazy to others if they knew how long the two of you have been dating (not that it’s any of their business), but you haven’t reached that part of your relationship yet. 

the farthest you two have gone was oral, so you knew that it wasn’t because you didn’t find each other desirable. you used to believe the saying ‘i could eat you for hours’ was sort of an exaggeration but now you can confidently admit your mistake and say that kuroo puts that saying to shame because he has spent hours buried between your legs perfecting his oral ‘techniques’. 

more often than not, you would always find yourself begging him to stop eating your pussy because it ached and your clit felt so numb. you’ve always wondered if his jaw and tongue were made of iron steel and he would just laugh at you before diving back in, making you squirt all over his face for the nth time that day. 

you’d also return the favor, of course, but you’ve always had a difficult time fitting his entire cock in your mouth because he was not only long, he was also achingly thick. you can’t even wrap your fingers around his shaft and he would always only fit halfway through your mouth, but he didn’t care because after cumming down your throat, he’d immediately lay you on your back and devour your cunt again.

that’s why you were so fucking annoyed because you knew that you wanted to fuck each other, so what was stopping the both of you?

well, it was your stubbornness. you wanted kuroo to initiate the next step but he would always tease you. you’d think that after years of pining for you, he’d jump at the chance to fuck you, but no, he stayed a saint (if you disregard the moments he made you orgasm multiple times).

if there’s one thing you disliked about kuroo now, it was his immense self-control and penchant for teasing you, so after weeks of thinking, you decided to finally raise the white flag and surrender.

although, it wasn’t exactly a defeat because it meant that you were about to finally get your pussy fucked by your boyfriend’s big fat cock for the first time. maybe if–

“what are you thinking about, kitten?” kuroo interrupted your dirty train of thought. his usual bed hair was even messier from playing around with you and his plump lips formed into a pout because you stopped reacting to him a few minutes ago.

fuck. should i tell him? what if he thinks it’s too fast? but we’ve literally covered almost all of the bases– “nothing!” you said in a high-pitched voice, your brain short-circuiting from your ravaging thoughts. kuroo narrowed his hazel eyes at you, clearly aware that you were lying.  

“tell me, kitten. i told you that you should never hesitate to tell me what you’re feeling, right?” he raised a dark eyebrow at you. you visibly gulped as your face flushed in embarrassment. never mind the fact that this man has already seen all of you, so acting like a virginal prude seems out of bounds now. well, technically i am still a virgin so–

you were broken out of your stupor when you felt kuroo shift above you. he was hovering over your body, with long legs at either side of your hips as he rose to all fours. his large and warm hands pinned your wrists to the bed as he leaned over you until his lips were ghosting over yours. he licked his lips and you knew he did that on purpose so you could feel his tongue slightly swipe against yours.

your heart was beating fast as his clean and fresh scent invaded your senses. he smirked at you, cat eyes narrowing with a mischievous glint. he could feel your pounding heartbeat and he hoped to the heavens that you couldn’t feel his own because he was just as excited and giddy about you as you are about him.

even after going through every year and life experience together, his heart and mind would never cease to be mesmerized by you. he knew you were endgame the moment you tripped over your own feet and fell to his chest in shoujo style. your friendship practically started from him teasing you about it, and soon enough you became best friends.

now he can finally call you his and you can call him yours. although in his mind he knew that he would forever be yours, even if you didn’t end up together, but that dejected thought vanished when the both of you crossed that bridge and finally came clean with your feelings for each other. he didn’t want to admit it, but every time he’d answer a chemistry homework, he’d smile like a fool and reminisce that fateful day in high school.

because of that chemistry homework, he could enjoy kissing you freely and shamelessly. he also now has the privilege to taste your pussy with his skilled tongue, and his favorite view in the whole world is probably watching your face twist in pleasure as you pull his hair, rocking your slick cunt on his face as you chase your orgasm. he especially loved it when you would beg him to stop but your hips would still move and your eyes would be pleading for him to go on until your pussy gets numb or until you squirt all over his face.

he wanted to fuck you badly, but he was just so patient and he loved torturing himself and you. he also wanted you to take the initiative, just like how he wanted you to confess first, and it wasn’t because he wanted to be chased (he kind of likes it though) but because you called the shots in the relationship. sure, he’s the one that makes you scream his name in pleasure but that’s because you want him to. he wants to hear it from your pretty lips, and he wants to hear you say that you want him to bury himself deep inside of you.

you two spent minutes looking at each other, studying each other’s features and with hearts beating to one rhythm until kuroo closed his eyes and leaned down to bridge the small gap between your lips.

your eyes fluttered shut, sighing into the warmth of his mouth as his tongue licked your lips. he tasted like strawberries and chocolate which made his kisses ten times sweeter. his fingers from your wrists went to your hands and weaved in between them. you kissed him with fervor until your clothes felt too hot on your heated skin.

he lifted his head, teeth nibbling your lower lip as he slowly pulled away. he stole another quick kiss before he rested his forehead on yours as he breathed deeply and smiled.

“i love kissing you, kitten. now do you want to tell me what’s on your mind?” he questioned you as he nuzzled his nose against yours, breathing in your scent deeply. you inhaled a big breath before bluntly telling him what you were thinking,. and truth be told, there was no other way that kuroo would accept your request because he’s a tease like that.

“i want you to fuck me, tetsurou.”

he froze, stopping himself from rubbing on you like a cat before he stretched his lips into a devilish grin and teased you.

“yeah? do you want me to fuck you right now?” he asked you, his honey eyes becoming sharper as he licked his lips. you nodded at him and he tutted at you, squeezing your fingers.

“use your words, kitten. i want to hear you say it,” he said in his deep and smoky voice.

“yes, tetsu. i want you to fuck me right now!” you whined as you lifted your hips to grind against his tenting pants. kuroo just smirked at you, grinding directly against your core making you moan.

“stop teasing me, tetsu. i need you,” you whimpered as you exposed your neck to him. he straddled your waist as he unlaced your fingers to remove his shirt from his lean body. you were just salivating at the sight before you, his abs flexing while he raised his thick arms.

you couldn’t stop yourself from tracing the lines of his abs with the tips of your fingers as he shuddered at your light touch, with his spine tingling at your soft caresses. he removed your hands and laced his own between them as he kissed you harder this time. you moaned at the onslaught of his mouth as your teeth and tongue clashed.

he pulled away from your lips and he made a path of kisses along your jaw down to the sensitive skin of your neck. you moaned as you rolled your hips when he sucked on the skin, leaving a purple bruise. he kissed it before he went to the other side of your neck to give it the same attention.

once he was satisfied with the marks he left on your neck, he let go of your hands and slowly lifted your shirt off your body with a certain reverence. his eyes sparkled as he traced your soft skin. he’s seen you naked countless times, but he’ll never get used to how beautiful and ethereal you look and he never fails to let you know either.

“you’re so beautiful, kitten. i will never get used to seeing you, my precious jewel,” he said softly, lips tracing every patch of skin that’s exposed to him. your heart soared and your face flushed at his praise. he looked at you like you were a goddess and him, the worshipper.

“no bra, kitten? were you planning this the whole time?” he raised a dark eyebrow, with eyes trained on your hardening nipples. he licked his lips and lowered his head to suck one into his watering mouth. you moaned at the sensation, as your fingers combed through his soft hair. he didn’t neglect the other one, pinching and rolling it between his long fingers. you pushed his head lower to your chest as the both of you rubbed on each other.

he was moaning into your breast, tongue swirling over the hardened peak as he sucked and licked. your panties were pooling with wetness, aroused by kuroo’s wet and hot mouth. you cried loudly when he simultaneously pinched and bit your nipples before lifting his head and staring at the swollen skin.

his hands slowly traveled down to your hips as your breathing increased in pace. he sure does love taking his sweet time, you grumbled in your head. you felt scrutinized by him, and it made you want to cover yourself up, but the way his hands were ghosting over your skin, touching you as if you were a delicate figurine, made you feel so desired underneath him.

he didn’t even seem to mind the growing bulge in his pants, as he was too focused and enamored by your figure. you used to feel uncomfortable at his silence during intimate moments like this, but you’ve come to realize that you always render him speechless every time you lay bare before him, and that made your ego huff in pride.

he removes your shorts and panties as his hands went lower. you lifted your hips to help him and he groaned at how the wet string from your pussy seemed to follow the path of your soon-to-be discarded bottoms.

due to your longing determination to tease him in return you raised your knees until your feet were flat on the bed and spread them until you felt your lower lips separate with a squelching sound. you softly moaned at the growing wetness in your pussy.

kuroo’s plump lips were parted as he let out a low groan while he stared at his favorite meal, tongue sliding out to wet his suddenly dry mouth as he rubbed your outer thighs.

“i’ve seen your cunt tons of times but it never fails to make me speechless, kitten. your pussy is as pretty as you, fuck,” he groaned as he reached out two slender fingers to slide along your weeping slit. you clenched at the sensation, letting out a low whimper when you saw kuroo lick his fingers and released them with a pop.

you moved to widen your legs more to give him space for his broad shoulders, but before even doing so he stopped you. you were about to question him until he shushed you with a finger to your lips.

“i want to try something new. figured if we’re going to finally fuck tonight, we might as well try a few more firsts, hm?” he teased you, honey eyes glinting with mischief which made your aching body shudder. the last time he said that, you ended up cumming so much that your legs wouldn’t stop shaking for five minutes.

you raised your eyebrow at him in question before he smirked at you. your breath hitched as he leaned down to your ear. “won’t you sit on my face, kitten? ride my tongue until all your juices cover my mouth and chin?” he whispered sensually, hot breath tickling your ear as he kissed it. you moaned softly as your ears burned from the barely-there kiss.

your body is brimming with sexual frustration, blood heating up at his request. for all the times he had his mouth on you, he never really asked to switch things up and you hadn’t either. you can’t deny that your pussy tingled from the idea of him offering to be under you like that.

“what do you say kitten? think you’re up for it?” he asked you again, lips grazing the side of your ear as his smoky voice left shivers in his wake. you moaned out a yes as he kissed you, slowly this time to savor the taste of your lips before he tastes your other set.

he pulled away and gently flipped both of your bodies until he was lying flat on his back with your naked cunt directly on top of his throbbing bulge, with breasts slightly swaying at the movement. you hissed at the heat emanating from there and couldn’t stop yourself from grinding on his clothed cock.

you both moaned at the stimulation, but he stopped your hips before you could cause any more friction. “not yet, kitten. i want to eat your pussy first,” he said as he let go of your hips to place his hands behind his head, the action causing his biceps to flex which made your pussy and mouth water even more. he let out a low laugh, clearly satisfied with your reaction.

“drag your pussy up to my chest, kitten. the only time i want you to lift yourself is when you’re positioned right over my face,” he ordered you, honey eyes turning to gold as he watched your breasts heave up and down, breath quickening.

you moaned at his lewd order, hands bracing on his chest to support your weight before you dragged your wet cunt all over his torso. the position of your arms made your tits bunch together and kuroo swore he started drooling. you started moving up his body and couldn’t stop the whimpers that came out of your mouth.

fuck, i could cum just by grinding on his abs alone, you thought. the way the ridges of his abs were dragging on your clit made you lightheaded. you definitely have to try grinding on his abs until you reach your orgasm sometime soon. “next time, kitten, but not now,” kuroo groaned as he felt your wetness trail over his torso, clearly knowing what you were thinking. he’d indulge you but that wasn’t his main focus as of right now.

you were gasping and whining when you reached the top of his chest, legs weak from the unprecedented stimulation on your clit. his arms were on his sides, ready to guide your thighs on either side of his face. you lifted yourself and hovered over his face, your face flushing from the new position.

you didn’t want to completely sit on his face for fear of him suffocating so you opted to hover instead and held onto the headboard for dear life. kuroo tutted in disapproval but he let it go because either way, he was going to do what he was good at and you’d end up dropping on his face, just like he wanted.

he stared at your dripping pussy while his thumbs rubbed small circles on your thighs. his hot breaths were fanning your clenching hole as you shuddered and moaned. you could feel the ache in your thighs starting to build up from being in a squatting position but you were determined not to crush his skull.

“i’ll have you sitting on my face, kitten. hold me to that,” he promised you, voice laced with determination. that was the last thing he said before he kissed your pussy and licked a long and wet stripe from your slit to your pulsing bud.

you cried out and instinctively raised your body from the new feeling but his arms didn’t allow you to. he trapped your body in that position as he sucked your aching clit into his wet mouth. you looked into his eyes as you squeezed the headboard, breasts swaying from your sudden jerks.

“oh my god, tetsu! that’s so good!” you moaned loudly as his tongue drew figure eights around your bud. you could feel your legs starting to shake as his tongue lapped up at your clit. you swore you could feel his mouth stretch out into a smirk at your shattering resolve.

kuroo was taking his time. he wanted to see the exact moment your legs would give out and sit on his face so he could get to work. you were just being your stubborn self and he wanted to see you succumb to the pleasure he was giving you.

“keep licking my clit just like that, oh my god, yes–!” you moaned loudly, voice cracking as kuroo’s talented tongue swirled around your clit again and again. “oh yes, fuck! fuck don’t stop, don’t stop!” you whined, the words jumbling together as your legs were near giving out. you were still fighting it and kuroo decided that he was done letting you have your fun and it was time that he got down to business.

you screamed as kuroo’s mouth left your clit and plunged his tongue right into your sopping cunt, effectively making your legs crash and sit on his face. he groaned in pleasure at feeling you all over him. he ate you out with fervor, his nose rubbing your clit. your hands fell from the headboard and gripped his hair so you could grind on his tongue in your cunt.

“tetsu, fuck that’s so hot. i could feel your tongue so deep in my pussy, yesyesyes,” you threw your head back as you moaned out the last word as you rode his face. the more you rode his mouth, the louder his groans became, the more pleasure shot straight to your clit. you removed your hands from his hair and fisted the pillow on top of his head to give you more balance to ride his face.

kuroo took this opportunity to raise his arms to play with your nipples. your moans increased in volume and pitch as he tweaked and rolled the nipples in his fingers. the wet sounds of his tongue fucking your clit were making your spine tingle and body shake.

you didn’t care that you were fucking his face because your orgasm was so close. he didn’t seem to mind either because his groans increased in volume the more you used his face as a fucktoy. you raised your trembling arms to your sides as you leaned back, blissed-out face facing the ceiling as you rolled your hips around his tongue.

“i’m g-gonna cum, tetsu! fuck yes, fuck yes, i’m gonna cum, right there–!” you screamed as he pinched both of your nipples, hips moving on their own accord as you prolong your climax. you were whimpering and mumbling out nonsense as your hips slowed down, trying to catch your breath from that strong orgasm.

kuroo gently lifted you off his mouth, strings of your cum stretching out from his lips, and raised himself to lean against the headboard. he settled you on his lap over his throbbing cock as he inhaled loudly and deeply, trying to suck in as much air as he could. his swollen lips and chin were drenched in your juices. he licked as much as he could off of his face and wiped the rest with the back of his hand.

“you liked that kitten?” he asked you with a tilt to his head, midnight hair mussed up from your fingers. you scowled at him, knowing damn well you liked what he did if he made you cum that hard, he just wanted the validation.

he laughed at your reaction as he wrapped his long arms around your slightly shaking body and squeezed you. he buried his nose in your neck and nuzzled it. he was humming while planting soft kisses on the skin, teeth nipping it here and there.

how can he act like this when his cock is pulsing underneath me?

you weren’t satiated, not in the least. you wanted his cock in you and you were going to make it happen, never mind the fact that he has a monster cock. you don’t care how it’s going to happen but he’s going to fit.

you raised yourself on your knees and started pulling the string to his pants so you could free his aching cock. kuroo stopped you and you whined at him, rosy lips forming into a pout.

“i want your cock, tetsu, please. i need it to fill my pussy,” you whined at him, eyes begging for him to just put it in you. you squeezed his shoulders as you rubbed yourself on his clothed cock, your slick leaving a wet stain on his crotch. his large cock was straining against his pants, a sign that he too was burning to get inside of you.

he squeezed your hip as he tutted at you. “you need to be thoroughly prepped, kitten. i want you to be dripping everywhere before you take my cock, okay?” he said softly, warm lips meeting yours as his large fingers trailed down to reach your cunt, spreading your folds as he teased your slit with his middle finger.

you moaned into his mouth as he reached your clit, finger drawing slow circles around the aching bud while the rest of his fingers played with the wet strings that were falling out from your previous orgasm.

you moaned even louder when he inserted two thick fingers into your hole, the entrance of them making a squelching sound as your juices coated his fingers. he pumped them in and out while never leaving your lips, both of your moans mixing.

you squealed when he curled them, hitting your g-spot. he did all of that while his other hand played with your clit. your moans were being swallowed by his mouth, his tongue entwined with yours as you felt your spit mix with his.

the kiss was as messy as your pussy down there with your juices drenching his fingers. you felt his arm move faster as he pumped his fingers in and out of your weeping cunt. you pulled away from his mouth to moan into his shoulder and he took this moment to whisper in your ear.

“yeah, you really like this, huh? look how much mess you’re making, kitten. think you can take my cock after this, hm?” he asked you, tongue snaking out to lick your earlobe, his fingers scissoring inside your walls.

“yes, tetsu! i-i can take your cock, oh fuck, that feels so good!” you cried out, teeth slightly biting his shoulder.

“then cum for me,” he growled, fingers curling in that come hither motion as he pinched your clit. you screamed out your orgasm again, tears brimming in your eyes as your body shook from your second climax. kuroo softly kissed your lips as you tried to come down from your high.

he took his fingers out and brought them in between your faces while he stared at them in fascination. your cum was hanging in strings from his fingers as he placed them in his mouth and groaned at the taste. you moaned weakly watching him genuinely enjoy your juices. you watched him maintain eye contact with you while he sucked and lapped at his fingers for a minute before you started tugging on his pants again.

“eager, are we?” he teased you. you narrowed your eyes at him because he was just as eager as you. his hands were fumbling around his waistband, hips lifting so you could pull them down his legs.

your mouth watered as his thick cock bounced against his stomach. pre-cum was leaking from its swollen tip, you watched it roll down along the veins of his shaft, stopping at his balls.

he gripped it with one hand and squeezed it, groaning at the stimulation. he was so fucking long and thick that the stretch was most likely going to be uncomfortable, but you didn’t care, you’ve been so needy for his dick that you don’t care about it impaling you.

you situated yourself until you were hovering over his cockhead, lightly rubbing it against your wet slit, making the both of you moan at the new sensation.

“tell me to stop when it hurts, okay kitten? i want you to be as comfortable as possible,” he said softly, thumb slightly grazing your lips as he looked you in the eye.

“yes, tetsu,” you pecked his lips before you balanced yourself with one hand on his shoulder and gripped his cock with the other and stroked it a few times. he was breathing heavily and his hands were gently squeezing your hips.

you guided his cock at your hole and moaned when his tip entered your clenching walls. you lowered yourself onto his cock, your walls sucking him in, inch by inch.

“breathe, baby. fuck, you’re so tight,” he groaned, voice straining at your heat engulfing him. you were going so slowly due to his size and also because you wanted to feel every ridge on his cock around your walls.

“you’re so big, tetsu. i could feel your cock everywhere,” you moaned long and hard, nails leaving crescent moons on his shoulders. he squeezed your hips in response, muscles tight with tension as he fought to pull you down on his lap.

you both cried out when you finally sheathed his entire cock in your pussy. the stretch felt uncomfortable but soon gave way to pleasure the more your cunt clenched and unclenched around him.

kuroo groaned at the feeling, his eyes silently begging you to move, or else he’d start jerking his hips and start drilling your pussy. you raised your trembling thighs off his lap, cunt dragging along his shaft until only his tip remained inside of you.

you mewled loudly as you dropped yourself on him, his cock making a squelching sound as he made contact with your wetness. “shit, kitten. you want my cock that much?” he moaned, lifting your hips again as he pulled you back down on his cock before he set up a rhythm. you wrapped your arms around his neck as he moved your body, moaning in his neck as the slapping of your skin on his ring in your ears.

“f-fuck t-tetsu! oh my god, your cock’s stretching my pussy–yes!” you bit your lip as you moaned from the pleasure. you raised your head to look at his face, his pink lips parted and breaths panting as he took control of your hips. your breasts were swaying with each thrust and you held on to them while kuroo groaned at your bouncing tits.

“i think about you fucking me all the time, tetsu,” you moaned breathily as you bounced up and down his cock, clit grinding against his pelvic bone. you rested your forehead on his shoulder with a loud moan as you felt every vein on his fat cock glide against your tight walls.

he threw his head back and moaned at your admission while he squeezed your hips. “yeah? tell me what you want me to do to your pussy,” he groaned, his hips thrusting up into your clenching hole. you cried, nails digging into his shoulders as his thick cock stretched you even further.

“i want you to wreck my pussy! cum in me so much that my pussy’s dripping in your cum!” you screamed as he thrust up into your cunt, cock hitting the entrance of your cervix.

“yeah? do you know how long i’ve wanted to fuck this pussy, kitten?” he growled as he flipped your bodies, with his thrusts increasing in speed now that he’s on top of you. he laced your fingers together as he delivered a hard thrust that had your pussy creaming even more around him.

“fuck, i can’t believe you’re taking all of me,” he moaned as he watched his cock disappear in your cunt. you moaned as your walls clenched even harder around him.

“your pretty little mouth can’t even fit my whole cock but your pussy is just sucking me in,” he groaned as he kissed you hard, tongue and teeth clashing against each other. his thrusts were so deep and fast that your tits were bouncing everywhere.

“f-faster t-tetsu! don’t stop please!” you begged him, legs wrapping around his waist as you closed the distance between your bodies, your hands squeezing his.

“i’m so close! oh my god yesyesyes i’m gonna cum–!” you screamed as the knot in your lower stomach uncoiled and you gushed all around him.

“your cunt is so good to me, kitten. fuck!” he moaned in your ear as he thrust one final time before his warm cum drenched your pussy. you were still moaning and whimpering when he stopped moving inside of you.

he raised his head and kissed your lips, this time with more passion. you couldn’t even move your lips with how tired you are so it was like kissing a statue, and he told you so.

“try getting fucked by a big fat cock and see if you can still move, dummy!” you breathed out. you laughed in each other’s lips, breaths mingling.

kuroo rolled over and laid down on his back, bringing you with him and laying your head down his heaving chest, where you could hear his racing heart. he smoothed out your sweaty hair and kissed the crown of your head as his thumb lazily stroked your hip. your heart was racing as fast as his while you traced small circles on his pecs. you kissed it softly and looked up at him and found that he was staring at you.

“i love you, kitten,” he said with a soft smile, honey eyes twinkling in the light of the room.

“i love you too, tetsurou,” you smiled back at him and reached up to peck his lips.

you laid your head down again and nuzzled it, eyes closing as your exhaustion finally caught up with you.

“hey, don’t fall asleep yet! i still have to clean you up!” kuroo exclaimed as he patted your cheek to keep you awake.

“ow! why did you pinch my nipple?!” kuroo pouted, whiny complaints falling from his mouth. you just laughed at him as you squeezed his cheeks in your hands.

he huffed and wrapped his arms around you, carrying you off the bed as he headed for the bathroom.

against your better judgement, round two commenced in the shower.

[7:07 PM]

[navegandoaciegas]

Crybaby

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x f!reader (College AU)

Warnings: smut, ass fingering, orgasm denial, humiliation, lots of talks about panties.

Summary: You catch Bucky trying to steal your panties on laundry day.

A/N: this is partly @buckycuddlebuddy​ ‘s fault tbh. Enjoy some desperate, horny Bucky. Minors DNI.

The timer on the dryer unit you’d occupied went off, signaling that your weekly load of laundry was dry and ready. Bucky cast a nervous glance around the eerily empty room, fingers twitching in the front pocket of his hoodie.

He knew it was wrong, but his laundry was done too (just a coincidence, really, not like he’d wake up at 3 am on a Monday because he knew you did your washing around that time), and you weren’t there yet. You usually retrieved your load in the morning anyways.

Just a peek, he reasoned. Out of curiosity. You wouldn’t even realize they were missing, and if you did you’d chalk it up to the washing machine eating your clothes.

You’d show up to class on Tuesday and sit next to him while he’d be wearing your pretty lace panties and you’d be none the wiser.

Fuck, he was getting hard just thinking about it.

He dug in your laundry, sifting through mascara stained washcloths and an endless amount of oversized t-shirts, until he found what he’d been looking for.

Small, so tiny in fact that he wondered how your lips could fit in them. He groaned -the idea of your pussy hanging out of the material made his cock twitch, and brought the panties to his face, rubbing his nose all over the lace. He’d fantasized of burying his face between your legs all semester long, and this seemed close enough, the closest he could get to you anyways.

They seemed stretchy, and he hoped he could manage to stuff himself inside them.

“Didn’t peg you for a panty sniffer, Barnes.”

The world stilled around him, the ring in his ears so loud that he wondered if you could hear it too.

He was so engrossed in his creeping, that he hadn’t heard the door open and click shut, nor your steps as you walked behind him, or the slight groan that the washing machine behind him emitted when you settled on it, swinging your legs.

Slowly, he turned around, your lace panties still tightly clutched to his chest.

You almost chuckled at the sight of his bulging eyes and gaping mouth. Almost.

“That- it’s not- not how it looks like- I-”

“What, you were gonna fold my laundry for me? How considerate,” you sneered, but the look on your face was far from disgust.

Derision, sure, but not disgust. The mischievous interest in your eyes sent chills down his spine, not necessarily the good kind.

He felt dread settle in his stomach, anticipating whatever consequence his actions would have.

“You do this often?” you asked, tilting your head to the side, naked legs still swinging over the washing machine.

Bucky couldn’t find the words, and honestly the gall, to speak, so he just shook his head vehemently, shuffling on his feet.

“Hm, you like sniffing ‘em?”

He remained unmoving, too humiliated to do anything.

“Oh, I got it,” you beamed, pointing a finger at him and squinting your eyes, “You like touching yourself with pretty panties, hm? Like using them to fuck your dick, and cum all over ‘em?”

He wanted to answer, tell you to fuck off and sprint away to hide in his dorm for the rest of his life, but honestly he deserved this and so much worse. He almost considered dropping out of college entirely, but that glint in your eyes kept him anchored to the ground.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, keeping his gaze on his white sneakers, “I-, I promise, I never done it before, I don’t know why-, look I won��t do it again, I swear,” he pleaded, tears pooling in his crystal eyes and threatening to stream down his face.

You cooed, honest to God coeed, a mocking pout on your lips.

You should have left, and reported him, but those pretty tears of his, the tremble in his voice, the stuttered pleas, only served to spur you on, a familiar warmth building up in your core.

“I bet if word got out of this, no one would want to hang around the resident creep anymore. Good luck getting girls then. Although, well, I don’t think you get too many under normal circumstances, do you?” you snorted, “That would be embarrassing, hm? Wouldn’t want that, would you?”

He found himself shaking his head, trying to swallow the lump in his throat to avoid giving you any more reason to mock him.

“It’s your lucky day then, because I have no intention to tell anyone,” you announced, stepping down to lean against the machine, arms crossed over your stomach.

“You- you don’t?” he wondered.

The notion should have elated him, but he felt himself growing more uneasy and confused with the smirk on your face.

“Won’t tell anyone if you don’t. Cross my heart,” you laughed, making a show of placing a hand on your chest.

He eyed you suspiciously. “Why?”

“Where’s the fun in that, Barnes? I wouldn’t enjoy bullying you if I’m not the only one doing it,” you chirped, “That doesn’t mean that my forgiveness should come for free, tho.”

His breath hitched, and you followed his Adam’s apple as it bobbed up and down his throat.

You could feel the control in your grasp, panties getting wetter with each one of his tears.

“I’ll do anything,” he swore, and you almost wished he’d fall on his knees and beg.

“Anything you say, huh?” you paused, “Strip,” you commanded, leaning back against the washing machine.

Bucky furrowed his brows and looked up in confusion, then disbelief, finally embarrassment. “Wh- what? But, but what if someone sees, I-”

“Then you better hurry.”

“But I-”

“You fuckin’ heard me the first time.”

He was startled into action, hands hastily pulling at his hoodie and jeans until he was standing in nothing but socks and underwear.

“I’m not gonna repeat myself again.”

He gulped visibly, and hesitated before hooking his fingers around the waistband of his boxers, pulling them down his legs.

He blushed harder, ducking his head.

His cock sprung out of his boxers, and the mouthwatering sight of it had you reconsidering Bucky Barnes and all your life choices during this semester.

He was glistening in pre cum, painfully hard and veiny, and definitely thick enough that fitting it inside your cunt would be hard work on both parts. You imagined taking him in your mouth, how you would definitely choke around his girth, and your jaw would be sore for days.

Not today, though. Bad boys did not get that kind of privilege.

You bit your lips, and Bucky fought the impulse to squirm under your intense gaze.

“Something wrong?” he rasped out, praying for the ground to open up and swallow him whole in case you found him too small, too crooked, too hairy.

You snorted, eyebrows raised skeptically. “Yeah, babe, the fact that I haven’t seen you naked before. You been hiding all this,” you eyed his crotch suggestively, “from me all this time?”

“T- thanks,” he stuttered, offering you a small smile, eyes trained on the ground. He tried to ignore the way his heart fluttered when you called him an endearing term, reminding himself that this was all a game to you, a game that he was more than willing to play if it ended up with his cock buried deep inside you.

You sighed then, pondering your thoughts. He was not your usual type, but he was cute in a nerdy way, shy and quiet, and he was packing more than any other man you’d had before.

Plus, this was way too entertaining for you to pass up.

“Wear ‘em.”

Bucky’s head snapped up at the command, but this time he did not hesitate to follow your instructions, a bit too eager as he slid the panties up his thighs.

The shutter of your phone’s camera brought him out of his thoughts, and his eyes widened in horror when he saw you take pictures of him. He trusted you wouldn’t spread them around, but the thrill of danger had him leak more pre cum, wetting a patch on the lace.

“So that’s your deal? You like wearing panties? Didn’t even try to act like you didn’t want to,” you snickered, “What a whore.”

The situation couldn’t get more humiliating, and he couldn’t get more desperate for you.

“Be a good boy, Bucky. Fold the laundry for me, since that’s clearly what you meant to do,” you laughed scornfully, nodding to the basket at your feet.

He walked to you slowly, bending over to pick it up, and yelped when you slapped his ass harshly, the sound bouncing off the walls and shooting straight to his aching cock.

“Cute. Now go, you got something to do and I don’t have all night.”

He sighed, and got to work, unloading each item from the dryer, and folding it neatly.

You eyed the lines of his back, the round globes of his ass, the string of your thong dipping between his cheeks. You almost lost yourself imagining how pretty he would look all scratched and marked before you furrowed your brows, observing the way he folded on of your nicer shirts that you wore on interviews and internships.

“Can’t even fold laundry, look at you,” you tsked, shaking your head, “Try that again, I don’t want to spend more than necessary ironing it.”

He obeyed, without any protest, smoothing the creases he’d created, and continuing with your load, until the dryer was empty and you were satisfied.

“Good job, baby boy,” you praised, beckoning him over.

He got closer, close enough that you could feel the heat emanating from his body. He looked so pretty like that, all teary and obedient.

You wanted to make him yours and ruin him for everybody else.

“You’re a fuckin’ pervert, you know that? A creep and a pervert.”

You saw the way his cock twitched behind your lace at the words, and almost doubled over in laughter.

The night couldn’t get any better.

“Fuck, you really are a pervert. This what you get off to? You imagine me calling you names, degrading you like the bitch you are? You want to be humiliated, don’t you?”

A desperate, pathetic whine escaped his throat, and he felt his knees growing weak with need. He was naked in a public space where everyone could see him, being belittled and humiliated by the girl he’d been pining over, and he was hard as a rock, getting off every word that spilled out of your mouth.

“Well,” you purred, fisting the hair at the back of his neck and tugging harshly, “I think we can arrange that.”

“Yes, yes, please, I want it,” he whimpered, chest heaving, “I want you, I’m your slut, I-, you can do whatever you want to me.”

You almost moaned then, intoxicated by his burning desire.

“Good boy,” you hummed, releasing his hair to stroke his cheekbone, smiling at the way he leaned his head against your palm, letting his eyes flutter shut.

“Remember you can tell me to stop or slow down whenever you want, and I will. I won’t do anything you don’t want me to,” you added more serious, observing his face for any trace of anything but enthusiasm.

When you found none, and he nodded feverishly, you let your hand fall from his cheek to his shoulder, tracing the outlines of his lean muscle.

“Can- can you kiss me, please?” he asked, and he begged so prettily that you could do nothing but humor him, crashing your lips against his.

It was messy, rough. He was sloppy, and from the way he moved against you, you guessed he didn’t have too much experience.

Better, you reasoned. You’d teach him all he needed to know to please you, and you only.

You bit on his bottom lip, and Bucky yelped in surprise, parting his lips.

He tasted like mint on your tongue, and you sighed in content, letting your hands travel down his sides, barely grazing his skin, scratching the hair on his belly.

He shuddered under your touch, goosebumps erupting in your wake.

When you reached his lower stomach, you felt him tense, his breathing getting harder, his tongue more insistent.

He was drooling and crying, you realized, as he snapped his hips against your leg, humping you like a dog.

You broke away from the kiss, catching your breath.

“Look at you, you gettin’ real worked up and I barely even touched you. What are you, a fuckin’ virgin?” you chuckled, playing with the little bow on the front of your panties.

You’d expected him to laugh, or deny, but he just stood there awkwardly, avoiding your gaze,

“I’m not,” he grumbled, avoiding your gaze.

“Then why are you acting like one?” you prodded, but didn’t wait for him to answer, claiming his mouth in a searing kiss.

His hesitant hands groped your breasts, finally gaining the confidence to do more than linger awkwardly on your hips. He twirled your stiff nipples, rubbing his thumbs over them, movements getting more frenzied the closer he got to his release.

He crouched awkwardly to be at your chest level while still pressing his hips onto you, and tugged your loose tank top down, moaning at the sight of your tits.

“Go on baby, suck on my tits.”

He didn’t need any more encouragement to assault your nipples, latching his mouth onto one of them, and suckling. You wondered if he’d ever even touched a pair of boobs before, but his ministrations were working either way, making your walls clamp down on nothing.

You finally grasped him in your hand, his cock heavy and throbbing in your palm as you stroked him lazily, spurred on by his little whimpers.

His whole body quivered when you ran your thumb over his slit, and you marvelled at his sensitivity.

“You like it when I touch you like this, baby?” you moaned in his ear, “I bet you do, I bet you could cum already just from this. Just a handjob, like the pathetic little boy you are, hm?”

He released your tits with a wet pop, and rose to full height again, resting his forehead on yours.

“Yes, yes, please,” he sobbed, “please, princess, more.”

You complied, doubling your efforts. He inhaled sharply when you added your other hand and began twisting both your wrists in opposite directions.

“You want your princess to suck your dick, baby? Want me to get on my knees and take you in my mouth?”

He nodded against you, grinding his hard cock against your hand, desperate to chase his release.

“Or maybe you want your princess’ pretty pussy? You want to fill me with your fat cock and stuff me full of your filthy cum, don’t you?”

He began blabbering, breathing harder, sloppily snapping his hips. He had a look of pure bliss on his face, his eyes shut tightly, mouth hung open and a layer of sweat coating his forehead.

You could feel him grow and throb in your hand, and just before he was about to reach his high, you stopped your hands.

His eyes shot open and he opened and closed his mouth to protest, but you gave him no time, fisting his hair and slamming him against the washer, bending him over the cold surface.

“What, you thought I’d catch you stealing my panties and I’d let that go?” you tutted, bending over him, pressing your front to his back, whispering in his ear “Bad boys need to be punished, don’t you agree?”

A choking sound escaped his parted lips, and you giggled against his skin, licking a strip behind his neck.

You let your hands wander down the expanse of his back, settling on the waistband of your panties. You indulged yourself again, slapping his ass because you liked how it jiggled and how Bucky whined.

“You have a nice ass, you know,” you mused, slouching back to get a good vision of it, “You ever had anyone stick anything up there?”

“W-what?” he sputtered, crooning his head to look at you, “N-no, never.”

“Cute.”

He squirmed in embarrassment when you spread his cheeks, groaning when he felt your spit drip down on him. You massaged a finger around his rim, your hand coated in your spit and his pre cum.

“Relax, I’ll make you feel really good, promise.”

You gradually felt his muscles relax under your touch as you soothingly ran a hand down his back and kept whispering calming, sweet nothings in his ear.

Then, you dipped a finger past the rim.

“See, not that bad, huh?” you smiled, working your finger inside him, caressing his walls.

You nipped the skin of his back, peppering his muscles with fluttering kisses, grazing your teeth over his column.

You dipped another in, and Bucky hissed, wiggling his legs.

“Hey, it’s okay,” you shushed him, “You’re doing so good for me, baby.”

He preened under your praise, and you began scissoring your fingers inside his ass, working him open and looking for the spot you knew would make him beg for more.

The heat between your legs was almost unbearable, your pussy desperate to be stuffed full of his cock.

You loved how pliant Bucky was being, obedient and submissive in your grasp. You noticed the tears that hadn’t stopped streaming down his face, and huffed a laugh.

“A pervert, a slut, and a fuckin’ crybaby, aren’t you?” you mumbled, a genuine smile tugging at your lips.

“Fuck, oh fuck, fuck, fuck,” he chanted, holding onto the washing machine for dear life, tongue lolling out of his mouth, drool dripping down his chin, making it known that you’d found what you’d been looking for.

“Yes, fuck, please princess, gimme more,” he begged, overwhelmed with a pleasure like he’d never experienced before.

He felt like a fire had been lit in his lower belly, and it was spreading to every limb, encompassing him whole.

You grasped his cock in one of your hands while your fingers kept pummeling into his ass, feeling the rim clench around you and his cock pulsate.

You thought you could cum from his beautiful sounds alone, and you kept going until you were sure he was on the verge of a mind shattering orgasm.

Then, you stopped again, and this time Bucky sobbed, blabbering and wailing, begging you.

“Please princess, I’ll do anything, just please let me cum, please, please,” he continued, shamelessly bucking his hips against nothing.

You released his cock and pulled your fingers out of his ass, cleaning the fluids against his panties.

“You’re so fuckin’ pathetic, begging like that,” you mocked him, retrieving your phone from the pocket of your shorts.

You snapped a couple of photos of him bent over the washing machine, pent up and debauched. His balls hung from the lace of your panties, and you made sure to zero on his tear stained face.

“So pretty, my pretty crybaby,” you cooed, helping him stand up again.

He fell on his knees, clutching the hem of your t-shirt.

“Please, you can’t leave me like this, I-, please,” he blabbered.

You committed the image to memory, knowing you’d see it again soon.

You could see it in his eyes how hooked he was to you.

“Baby, bad boys don’t get to cum, do they? You can’t go around stealing people’s laundry,” you tutted, lightly slapping his cheek, “You deserve some punishment, don’t you agree?”

He hesitantly nodded, slumping down on his shins. You grasped his chin, tilting his head up to meet his gaze.

“You got to bed now, no touching, and I’ll see you tomorrow. I’ll know if you disobeyed, and trust me, you don’t want to know what’s gonna happen if you did.”

You smiled, and took a few steps back to retrieve your basket, leaving him to catch his breath on the floor.

“See you tomorrow at 4 pm, you know where my dorm is,” you chirped despite your own neglected arousal, sauntering to the door, “Get dressed before someone comes in, you wouldn’t want to see how much of a pervert you are, right?”

He shook his head, agreeing with you despite the sobs that silently shook through his body.

“Good boy,” you purred, hand twisting the knob. You paused, and threw him a look over yourself, “Oh, and thank you for the laundry.”

-

I hope you liked this! Please leave some feedback if you can! ❤️

[kai-writes-fan-fiction]

Hey besties! I need your help! First off, I need some requests! Secondly, I need a name for my fan base. But moving onto the good stuff, part 3 is finished and I’m so proud of it. I’m so thankful to have such an amazing audience. Thanks to anyone that reads!!

Word count: 1150

Warnings: Talk of syringes, a few cuss words, restraining, mentions of child abuse/ neglect, and Loki being an ass. (Nothing against him, I love Loki.)

Please excuse any typos/spelling/grammatical errors I wrote this during a lecture at school :p

In Hiding, part 3/?

Parts one and two links:

You were finally out of the compound, and you were running faster than you ever had. You climbed up countless trees and jumped from branch to branch, just trying to get as far away from the compound as you could. You didn’t know where you were and had no way of finding your way back to New York City.

——————————

It’s been 3 hours of constant running. At least you think it’s been 3 hours… You’ve finally found a tree to rest in. You shift into a stick to blend in. Unfortunately, you are a blue stick, but you were too tired to care.

Slowly, you drifted off into a deep slumber

—————Avengers POV—————

“We’re not stupid; she’s got a tracker. She’s stopped about 5 miles Northeast.” Bruce announces to the team.

“So when do we get her?” Natasha wonders aloud.

“I’m thinking night; the sun sets in about 2 hours…” Steve replies.

“It’s when she’ll least expect it,” Buck adds.

“Since she’s been running nonstop for about 3 hours, she’s probably asleep. We should go now, so she doesn’t wake before nightfall.” Says Tony.

“I don’t know, Tony. She’s probably pretty tuckered out. It’ll be harder for her to attack in the dark.” Natasha counters.

“She’s a shapeshifter; the kid probably has night-vision or something.” Tony murmurs.

“He's got a point, guys,” Bruce notes.

“We’ll take a vote. Say “aye” to go now, “nay” to go at night.” Steve says. “All in favor of now?”

“Aye,” Tony.

“Aye, ” Bruce.

“Aye, ” Loki.

“Aye, ” Peter.

“Aye, ” Wanda.

“Aye, ” Vision.

“Aye, ” Thor.

“That everyone?” Steve questions. A few nods are the reply. “Ok, how about people who think we should go at night?”

“Nay, ” Natasha.

“Nay, ” Clint.

“Nay, ” Steve.

“Nay, ” Bucky.

“Ha! We're going now. You all have 3 minutes to get what you need. Meet on the Quinjet.” Tony announces.

Clint moans but turns to get his things.

“You sure we got her this time?” Bruce asks Tony, turning to him.

“Now we know what she can do. The kid’s powerful, but there's one of her and ten of us. She's also asleep; we've got the upper hand.”

“But she can-”

“We’ll be fine.”

—————Your POV—————

Flashback Dream

You were five again and back with HYDRA, tied to a chair, various syringes with God only knows what inside to your right.

You were trying to get away; you struggled against the grip of the ropes, but, to no avail, you weren't getting anywhere.

In walked three men, dressed in white lab coats. One was gruff and bald, the 2nd was taller and buff, the last man, was short and plump and cowered behind the other two.

“This is her? She's smaller than I hoped. I doubt she’ll survive.” One spoke loudly.

Not survive what? Tears began to drip down your face.

“I hate children.” Another one of them hissed before swiftly stepping forward and slapping you. “Shut up, vermin.” He seethed.

You stopped crying and whimpered.

“Weak.” The first man jeered.

“The first dose is ready, sir.” The 3rd man whispered.

“I’m excited to see what it does!” The 2nd man grabbed one of the syringes and forced it into your arm.

Almost immediately, you felt a burning sensation; white stars clouded your vision, and your entire body began to tingle, and then your eyesight was gone.

Startled awake, you found yourself face to face with Loki again.

“Hello there.” He grinned.

Frightened, you fell from your tree-top perch. You hit the ground with a thud, and were met by nine more faces, who you noted were more avengers. You were so screwed.

As fast as you could, you created clones and shifted them into the people before you.

“That’s not going to work this time!” Loki called down from the tree.

Clint hastily shot all of your clones, and you were left defenseless, but you weren’t about to give up. You tried to shift into an ant to hide, but you couldn’t turn. Damn it! They had predicted your every move. You were a goner.

You were paralyzed, not by Loki but by fear. You began to shake violently and cry. This is where it all ended.

“Uhhhhh… kid?” Tony calls out to you, lifting his mask. “You good?”

You continued to cry; you wouldn't dare speak.

“Grab her..?” Wanda suggests, pointing at you.

“Oh. Uh, yeah.” Steve steps towards you.

You attempt to wither away, but you are frozen. You continue to shake; sobs rack your body.

You're picked up bridal style by Steve and carried back to the Quinjet. You're limp in his arms and quiet, tears stain your cheeks, and your eyes are bright red.

“Finally, she stopped crying. It was annoying.” Bucky jeers.

“She, a kid! Don't be so insensitive.” Wanda retorts.

You're legs and hands are cuffed once more, and you're strapped tightly into a seat.

You've regained all of your senses, and now you're angry. Angry at yourself for letting this happen, angry at the Avengers for capturing you, especially angry at HYDRA for making you like this, and mad at your parents for selling you to evil people.

Thinking about it, you're infuriated. A spark is a newfound spark that ignites inside of you, and suddenly you're growling lowly.

Ten faces turn to you and stare. You lift your head and bear fangs. It took all of your energy to fight against Lokis's magic and shift even such a small part of yourself.

“You don’t give up, huh? Foolish.” Loki looks up at you and grins. “Oh well, all the more fun for me!” He taunts.

Your restraints are tightened, and your fangs dissolve in your mouth. Loki gets up and moves towards you.

“Giving up now, foolish girl?” He says as he grabs your jaw and jerks your face up, forcing your eyes to meet his.

In response, you narrow your eyes. The restraints tighten even more, and you're beginning to have trouble breathing.

“That's enough, Loki,” Thor yells from his seat. “Sit down.”

Loki looks up from you, rolls his eyes, but lets go of you. He looks back down to you as he's walking away, smirks, and loosens your restraints. You heave as you try to regain your breath, and the Avengers stare at you.

You're angered once more, but now you know the repercussions. You’re really fucked now.

“It’s going to be 30 more minutes!” Steve calls from the front of the jet.

30 minutes until the rest of your life is decided. Better savor them, as they may be your last. Wondering what happens next? You’ll have to read part 4, hopefully coming out tomorrow!

Thanks again for all the support, I’m so happy I get the privilege to write for such an amazing and kind audience! My requests are still open, and I really, really need people to send in requests. Thanks again, everyone! Have an amazing night/day and thanks for reading!!

Taglist:

@sweetpeaflower01 @kinny-away @mangobangi @oakiedokie @moonbaejpeg @coollemonsaresour @screechingshepherddeputygoth @cumulonimbus34

[retrogalwrites]

Touya Todoroki x Natsuo’s bride! Reader

Title: “Just say I do” / view on ao3

Summary: Yours and Natsuo's wedding day finally arrives, and Touya wants to see the bride in private.

Sequel to my previous fic "Fool me once, then again and again." I recommend reading that fic first but this can be read as an stand alone

Warnings & Contents: Dubcon, cheating, cuckolding, spanking, masochism, blackmail, breeding, impregnation fetish, creampie, bastard touya

Words:1857

The Todoroki household hadn't seen such a frantic day in a long time, but it was to be expected that yours and Natsuo's wedding day was going to be a rather elaborate event. As soon as the sun was out, everyone was up and about with the wedding preparations, fuzzing over the venue, the cake, the banquet, the dress, every minuscule detail mattered to a family of prestige.

You weren't allowed to see Natsuo until the time of ceremony came, all for tradition's sake of course. Keeping you away of your groom, his mother and sister insisted on staying by your side to get you all ready and perfect for such an important moment of your life, it made you happy to feel like part of their family already. Rei did your makeup while Fuyumi dressed you up, and the sight you made in your wedding dress was one to behold.

Everything was perfect, more than you could've asked for. It was not the privilege and opulence of a wedding planned by the Todoroki family that mattered at all, it was marrying the man of your dreams.

Your heart only longed to see the face of your beloved Natsuo as soon as possible.

But there was someone else who also couldn't wait to see you either.

It only took the moment Rei and Fuyumi had left the room for Touya to weasel his way in without being noticed. Locking the door behind himself, you already knew what he wanted, what he always wanted.

"Are you kidding me? Touya, you can't do this today..."

Your voice was soft, pleading, yet you knew better than to really put up a fight against him.

"Aww, c'mon sugartits, don't be like that."

He was all dressed up too, a black dress shirt with a grey vest that made him look absolutely stunning, and you deeply hated yourself for thinking that. He grinned at you, rolling back the cuffs of his shirt up to his elbows.

"You're going to be off to who knows where by tomorrow, I just want to say goodbye." He was talking about your honeymoon, of course, because you and Natsuo would be taking a week long trip to Hokkaido, which meant that you were not going to be accesible to Touya until then. "You look like a fluffy cupcake, sugartits. All pretty, and dolled up for me."

"This is not for you. God, get over yourself." You snapped at him, but like always Touya was simply amused by your most angry reactions.

"Hey, calm down. You should learn to take a compliment, if I like it then your cute baby groom will love it as well." It was the cheapest way to get you to submit, using Natsuo against you to remind you that Touya had the power to destroy everything the two of you had built.

"Touya, please..."

As an attempt it was useless perhaps, but not trying at least that much would only make you feel guilty for what you knew was coming. He made his way to you, the outline of his already hard cock straining the front of his pants was clearly visible. You hated how your body always reacted to the sight of his cock, knees trembling and crumbling in weakness.

"I mean it, you look so fucking hot right now." Soon enough his arms were around you, he held you in his arms in a tight grip that crushed you against his larger frame. Touya leaned down to kiss you hard, there never was a warning for those things when I came to him. Lips crashing against yours with his pierced tongue already forcing itself between your teeth and into the heat of your mouth.

The lithe muscle eagerly fucked your mouth hole, sloppily mixing your spit with his, almost passing it back and forth, while one of his hands had hastily pulled down the top of your dress, spilling your tits bare for him. Touya was quick to grope one of your supple breasts, roughly kneading the soft mound and digging his fingers into the skin, hard enough to make you squirm and cry softly at the pain. A sound he devoured straight from your mouth as he kept on sloppily kissing you.

You banged your palms against his chest to demand he give you a chance to breathe.

Pulling back, the lipstick that had been so carefully applied on you was smeared all over Touya's lips, which stretched into a wicked grin as he amusedly looked down at your pouting expression.

"You're ruining my makeup, asshole. "

"Right, right, my bad." He was not sorry at all.

Even through the frills and lace of your dress, you could feel his erection poking at your crotch with needy anticipation, and you found yourself quickly pushed towards the opulent vanity where Rei had done your makeup earlier.

Your upper body was pushed down on the furniture's flat surface, eyes facing the mirror on it, while Touya seized your hips with his large hands and forced your perky ass to stay up, pushing back all the layers of the dress to finally bare your backside to his hungry gaze. Touya greedily palmed the supple roundness of your ass cheeks. It was pathetic, how you were hopelessly trying to gather some of your broken pride to talk back, when the only thing in your mind was the feeling of Touya's still clothed cock rutting against your pussy, it was driving you crazy.

"Shit, what kinda whorish bride wears stuff like this, huh? You're such a slut." He hissed, fingers hooked to the elastic around the waist, quickly pulling your panties down to your thighs. Touya whistled, pleased with the sight of your wet, puffy folds. "Natsuo is a lucky man."

"Shut up."

"Hey, if we hadn't broke up, do you think you'd be my bride instead right now?" He sighed, something earnest about the longing in his words made you sick. "Would you've liked that? If I had proposed back then?"

"Touya, that's enou—"

 SMACK

The sound of his hand spanking your ass was loud, horribly loud.

 SMACK

The stinging pain shooting through your whole body had your back arching beautifully, toes curling inside your expensive high heels.

 SMACK

The skin of your ass had already become red and raw, it hurt so much, it hurt so good. You muffled your cry by bitting down your lower lip, but only barely, your quivering voice called his name like a cursed word.

But instead of a response, the only thing you heard was Touya unbuckling his belt, and you braced yourself for what was coming. Without any sort of warning, he angled the supple head of his throbbing, erect cock into your hole, before burying himself deep into the snug fit of your tight pussy. The intrusion was sudden, violent, with him balls deep inside you there was no way you could keep yourself from moaning out loud.

"Ahhh...!"

"Shiiiit...baby..." Touya groaned, mouth open and eyes shut in a blissful expression. Your pussy was just so perfectly shaped for his cock, your slipper walls tight around him like a form fitting fleshligth. He couldn't wait to start moving his hips, fingers gripping your ass as he drilled himself into your welcoming hole. He groaned low and almost feral when he pounded you from behind.

The soft smack of his balls against your bare cunt and the strained moans coming from your trembling lips were almost deafening in your ears. With every thrust, you could feel him hit that spot so deep inside you, that spot he knew better than anyone else, even better than your beloved Natsuo, and you hated him for it, hated yourself for it.

"Heh...you're making such a lewd face right now, you fucking whore." His voice was low and shaky, breath steaming agains your exposed neck as he leaned over to press his chest against your back. "That's right, even now you're nothing but my little whore." A dark chuckle just as his arms wrapped around your frame, hips still thrusting relentlessly into your cunt.

"Shit, you're squeezing my cock so hard..." Touya planted an open kiss on your shoulder. "You like being fucked by another man while your groom is out there, don't ya?"

"S-Shut up!! Please...stop talking...ahhh...and f--ah!!"

It was like begging to be pitied, to ask for respect while moaning every time his cock scrapped your insides into his shape. You covered your face with your hands, the soft fabric of your satin gloves pressed against your eyes desperately trying to block your sight of the mirror, did not want to see the reflection of Touya fucking you raw while you were supposed to be getting ready for your own damn wedding.

Salty tears pricked at the corners of your eyes, threatening to roll down your cheeks, and it took all of your will power to keep yourself from crying.

"If you get pregnant, who do you think will be the father?"

Your body was burning with pleasure, so close to your orgasm.  

"Stop it...please stop it..."

"Is it bad that I hope it'll be me?"

As he said that, or perhaps because he said it, your walls clamped around his cock as you came, your body trembling and shaking against Touya's. He hissed against your ear, and you felt the scorching warmth of his cum shooting straight into the entrance of womb, coating your walls in sticky white.

Touya kept trusting himself into you as he came, as if to push his cum as deep as he could inside you. His words on wanting you to get pregnant by him still ringing in your ears, filling you with am indescribable despair, as well as shameful thrill.

"Let's get you cleaned, before my dad comes looking for me."

Looking at yourself in the mirror then, turned into a mess in your wedding dress, tears finally started streaming down your face.

You heard the shutter of a camera going off, looking over your shoulder you saw Touya holding his phone, as he took pictures of your abused hole stuffed with cum.

"I'll need something to remember you by while you're on that honeymoon."

"Go fuck yourself, Touya."

He chuckled, careless as ever, unbothered by your rage and pain, as ever. After a pause, while he tucked himself back into his pants and you fixed your dress, he asked almost absent minded.

"So, do you think you'll get pregnant from this?"

"Shut up."

"Do you think it'll be mine?"

You didn't reply.

————

Watching you and Natsuo standing by the altar while exchanging vows was terribly dull, more that words could express. And Touya couldn't help himself from drifting to his phone, disregarding the angry glare his father sent his way from his seat a few rows ahead.

Opening his image gallery, he displayed on the screen the picture of your abused sex with his cum, eyes fixated on it, he could feel himself getting hard again.

A satisfied smile on his face, crooked and sadistic, as he heard your voice saying.

 "I do."

[avaritia-apotheosis]

Phantom Children Ch. 6

Hi guys! I'm back <3 (also, I'm currently looking for alpha/beta readers for Phantom Children, so if you're interested, feel free to shoot me a message!)

In Which: Danny Attempts to get Answers, Bruce Learns, and Dick Finally Learns What's Inside the Door that Doesn't Exist

AO3 | Prologue | 5 | [ 6 ] | 7

DANNY IS KNOCKED DOWN three, four, eight times on the ice. Each time made his back ache, his bones bruised and tired, and his mind burning with embarrassment and a drive to lash out. But each time he gets back up. Each time he lasts a little bit longer against Talia.

The ice still shifts, cracks and rumbles with every wrong move. Danny learned to roll with it. Move on light feet but attack with a firm stance, gauge which parts of the ice are stable and which should be avoided. Multi-tasking has never been Danny’s strong suit, but he’s good at learning and learning quickly.

Talia corrected his form as much as she beat him down. Exploited every one of his openings until he learned to defend them and praised him whenever he managed to pull one over her. The League’s martial arts was the holy amalgamation between almost every single fighting style there is, mashed and refined to perfection to become almost unpredictable to the untrained. A vast improvement to Danny’s previous ‘fuck around and see what works’ brawling and had the added benefit of meshing together with his spontaneity.

“You are doing well, Daniel,” Talia said as she sheathed her sword, hand resting just above her hip. “You have improved greatly in such a short time, as I have expected.”

It takes every ounce of Danny’s superhuman energy to not collapse to his knees, his every breath a ragged shudder as he tries to get his breathing under control. “Still can’t beat you, though.”

“Very few can boast that feat.”

“I’m not exactly sure if that’s supposed to make me feel any better or not. Do I get my prize at least?”

Tahlia tossed her braid over one shoulder with a laugh. “Come, then, let us rest in the caves. The sun is to set soon and we must make camp before we freeze to death.”

“Hypothermia is so last season. I’m way too cool for that.”

He didn’t know whether to be disappointed that Tahlia didn’t react to his pun. It was pretty clever, in his opinion.

('Puns are the lowest form of comedy,' said mind-Jazz.

Says the one who named the Box Ghost the ‘Crate Creep.’

'That’s alliteration, not a pun.')

It was kind of pathetic that even his mind-version of Jazz was smarter than him.

“What would you like to know first?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Sarcasm dripped from Danny’s voice. He sheathed his sword and let it hang loose at his side. “Maybe how old this mysterious brother of mine is?” Ancients, his life was weird enough already, it wasn’t supposed to sound like the B-plot to a bad soap opera.

“Damian is younger than you by a little over four years. He will turn eleven this year.”

“Huh. Never been an older brother before.”

“Perhaps you might have been, if circumstances had been different.”

Cryptic. Great. Danny stepped over a particularly large crack in the ice and scampered over to solid ground. “You gotta give me more than that. What’s he like?”

“Prideful,” she said. “But skilled enough to warrant it. He was raised like a prince—as how you should have been.”

“And he lives with…our dad?”

“Yes. In America.” The cave was deep enough to shield them from the worst of the eventual mountain winds. Tahlia had already started building a campfire with equipment from her knapsack, embers eating away and growing into a steady flame. He sat down, legs crossed, beside the fire, hands tucked beneath his armpits.

He bit his lip, a question forming in his mind. “Do…do we have the same dad?”

Tahlia looked up at him. “Of course. Only your father has had the privilege of being called my beloved, and only he is worthy enough to have sired my children.”

Once night fell, it fell quickly. Blanketing as far as Danny could see from the mouth of the cave in a thick darkness. Snow fell from the skies in thick tufts and covered their footsteps.

“Does he—do they know about me?”

“No, they do not.”

“And you probably aren’t going to tell them anything about me, if you could help it.”

“That is very perceptive of you, habeebi.”

“You won’t tell me anything more about them, will you?”

“In due time, I will.”

Danny blew part of his fringe away from his face. Figures.

Despite the ever-present niggling at the back of his mind, Bruce had yet to see what was in the flash drive. The weeks since his strange meeting with Vlad Masters suddenly exploded with criminal activity with the recent breakout in Arkham and the brewings of another gang war in the shadows of Gotham’s paved streets. It was all hands-on deck. And Bruce, whether as Batman or Wayne, had always prioritized Gotham and its citizens over anything else.

The flash drive remained on his person despite the crisis, tucked away in one of the sturdier compartments of his utility belt to prevent the data inside from becoming damaged. Sometimes he found his hands gravitating towards it, fingers brushing against the button that would release the mystery from its confines before he realized what he was doing and steeled himself. Hands fisted to his side and attention forcibly directed elsewhere.

Eventually, the rogues were placed back into Arkham, and Gotham let out a shuddered breath of relief as it remained standing for another day.

Most of the family were out on a light patrol, cleaning up the remains of the breakout and helping where they can. Jason and Dick bickering over the comms whilst Barbara laughed in her clocktower.

(“It’s not that bad.”

"‘It’s not that bad’—shut the fuck up.” Jason spat. Bruce could hear him revving his bike. “You’re a fucking idiot, you know that? Certified Grade A idiot. B’s gonna kill you.”

He could hear Dick roll his eyes. “Sure, pile it all on, Jaybird. Blame the victim.”

"It was your fault.”

“It’s not my fault I didn’t see it there!”

"You tripped and got a concussion. From a stick. A. Stick.”

“Can we please just leave that out of the report?” Dick groaned. Barbara laughed. “Oh god.”

“Richard motherfucking John Grayson. I swear if you vomit on me then—”

“I’m not gonna vomit on you! You just turned the corner a little too fast. It’s nice to see you care though.”

"Fuck no, I just don’t wanna smell like regurgitated cereal.”)

Damian was benched from a patrol. Their last conflict with Poison Ivy ended with Damian sticking a bad landing and twisting his ankle. He dealt with it with as much grace as can be expected. Meaning that he spent the last few days sulking as he caught up on his missed schoolwork and shooting daggers at everyone else who came back from patrol.

Bruce flicked the flash drive open and plugged it into the computer. The flash drive contained only a single folder dated six months ago.

He clicked it, and a news headline popped up.

LOCAL TEEN DIES AFTER DRIVING OFF CLIFF

Beneath it, a picture. Blue eyes. Black hair. A familiar face.

Blood pounded in Bruce’s ears. He could hear nothing except a sharp gasp from Damian behind him.

When Dick and Jason arrived at the batcave, it was to an eerie silence. Not that it was usually loud, only that Bruce spent most of his free time down in the cave and Dick had come to expect hearing some signs of him around. Typing on keys, the clicking of a mouse, the heavy thuds of a fist meeting a punching bag or a training dummy, etcetera, etcetera. Or maybe even Alfred cleaning up around the cave, feeding the bats, or restocking their med bay.

(Dick, it turned out, didn’t have a concussion. Probably. Not a severe one anyway. What mattered most was that he managed to convince Jason to have dinner at the Manor. Alfred was making a tarte tatin for dessert tonight and those were absolutely to die for. )

One of Tim’s cases took him to the other side of Gotham. The only person in the cave was Damian, who was staring agape at the batcomputer.

“Why the hell is the demon spawn looking at old pictures of Bruce? We get it. They look alike.

“Uh, Dami? What’s up?”

Damian snapped his mouth shut. “I believe it might be best if you asked father that, Grayson.” Despite his clipped tone, there seemed to be little anger in his voice. His proud shoulders were hunched over on the chair, eyes trained on his lap.

He looked so small.

Damian clucked his tongue. “He’s upstairs, if you need him. So is Pennyworth.”

Dick shot a glance at Jason who raised his hands in mock surrender. “You’re up golden boy. Whatever the fuck the old man’s problem is this time, I’m not dealing with it.”

Dick sighed. “Fine.”

There was a door in Wayne Manor that didn’t exist.

When Dick was a child and recently adopted by Bruce Wayne, one of the first things he did was explore the manor. It’s the prerogative of every child that somehow found themselves in a large mansion—even more so given the castle-like exteriors of Wayne Manor. All castles have secret passages, and if the Batcave lay in the subterranean depths below, then surely the manor proper must have its own secrets.

Dick would tumble and cartwheel along the hallways, opening any and every single door he came across. A lot of them were just empty bedrooms or unused parlors and sitting rooms; the furniture covered by white sheets to keep the dust away. Alfred was probably magic, but even he can’t keep the entirety of the manor dust free.

The majority of the unused rooms were unlocked.

Except for one.

It was a room in the west wing, on the second floor. A couple doors down from where Bruce’s and Dick’s were. Why it was locked, Dick never found out. But he was curious since it was the only room on that floor that remained shut.

When he asked Alfred about it, the old butler only said that it was an unused storage room they preferred to keep locked just in case. When he asked Bruce about it, he’d be quick to change the subject. Usually something Batman related. Which, well, always worked, because it was Batman related. And Dick, young and spry and itching to fly under Batman’s wings, would quickly forget about that curious little mystery in favor of punching bad guys in the face and flipping over rooftops.

At some point that locked door quietly disappeared, leaving a blank expanse of wallpaper and a decorative vase where it once stood. It was never brought up again. And Dick slowly forgot that it was ever there in the first place.

Until now.

The wooden table and vase were shoved off to the side. Wallpaper sliced away to reveal the lines of a doorway. The door, covered in its faint damask wallpaper, was kicked open, the wood around the bolt splintered and cracked. He could hear voices—Alfred’s and Bruce’s—speaking softly on the other side.

He pressed his back against the wall and kept his breathing quiet.

“Three times, Alfred.” Bruce’s voice was hoarse, barely above a whisper. “Three times she’s done this to me.”

“Master Bruce…”

“I don’t—I don’t understand why—” Bruce choked, swallowing a shuddered breath. “Damian, I can understand. Jason, I can too. But…This? I—” Bruce suddenly quieted. Dick knew the jig was up.

He unlatched himself from the wall and slowly slid through the once-hidden-door, a hand kept on the frame. “Um. Hi, Bruce? Alfred?” The words fell flat, stilted. Dick winced as he said them. “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop but, uh…” He trailed off the second he registered what was in the room.

It was large, as so many rooms in the manor were. The room was covered in peeling green wallpaper with faded pictures of baby deer and owls and other woodland creatures prancing about. There was a dresser on one wall. A shelf filled with little picture books and stuffed animals on the other. A brown teddy bear had fallen on its face on one of the shelves.

In the middle—where Bruce was hunched over—was a crib. The wood streaked and aged with time, the beddings within pristine and untouched, if not dusty. Hanging overhead was a mobile with little animals dangling on a string.

“Worry not Master Dick. It is good that you are here since it will inevitably involve the rest of the family at some point.”

Dick nodded absentmindedly, trying to lock eyes with his guardian. “B? What’s—what’s going on?” Dick took one step deeper into the room. “The pictures in the cave. I thought they were you since they were too old to be Damian—” Bruce’s hands on the crib’s railing flinched.

Dick’s breath hitched.

“They’re…not your photos, are they.”

Bruce took a deep breath in, the lines of his shoulders tense. “No. They’re not.”

In their line of work, the answer could have been anything. Clones, magical doppelgangers, alternate universe counterparts, hell, even just someone’s genetic code being coincidentally similar to another person. But…this room, this nursery, pointed towards only one conclusion.

“Who is he, Bruce?”

Bruce angled his head towards Dick, unshed tears glimmering in his eyes. “He’s my son, Dick.

“He’s my son.”

[wincore]

youngblood | lee donghyuck

pairing: haechan x reader

words: 9.1k

genre: ‘bad boy’!au, fluff, angst(?)

warnings: language, juvenile crimes (do NOT try shoplifting, speeding and vandalism, kids)

a/n: okay omg i finally got around to editing this and you guys should know by now this au doesn’t mean he’s bad and just.........annoying........... (also it follows troublemaker’s style but like............it might just be my fav troublemaker part aaaa)

The first day you meet Lee Donghyuck, he picks a fight with you. Or you pick a fight with him.

That’s not how the first day of high school should have gone.

It surprised you, just a little, to be toe-to-toe with someone so easily. Did he like picking fights for fun? You looked him up and down, the ink over his forearm meant to be shown and a strange friendliness in his eyes. Not exactly the bully type, you weren’t sure what to make of him. Movies spoil reality when it comes to things like this. Rumors are even worse. You took a slow gulp anyway, Donghyuck’s eyes on you unnerving.

He leaned in slightly to match your height. His tone was lilting and he phrased his words light-heartedly, a pretence you found funny. “I have no interest in you, kid. I’m going to keep it that way.”

“We’re the same age, you know?”

Your reply went unheard. It was just misunderstanding that got you there—you mistook his locker for yours and it’s not your fault you happen to have the same passcode (a little weird though, definitely). Lee Donghyuck said if you were allowed to take what’s his, he should have the same privilege, the word thief at the tip of his tongue. He was a little daunting, you suppose—taller than you were, in all black and several piercings and tattoos poking out on wrists. Maybe it was the undulating rage of being fourteen and at the stage of heavy regret in later years, maybe it was the wariness around strangers. You weren’t quite afraid of him; just that a fight on your first day didn’t seem like a very bright start in a new city. Although you assured him you didn’t touch his stuff, you handed him your bear-shaped keychain. (“You can have this if you want a gift so bad.”)

When Donghyuck laughed, giving it back almost immediately with a cheeky grin—you couldn’t decide whether to let the confusion show on your face.

“Don’t be a pushover, newbie.”

You frowned. “Who’re you calling a pushover?”

You don’t remember the rest of it but you found it very hard to not have mixed feelings about him. You’re trying to have a normal fun high school life for fuck’s sake. You didn’t think he was the awful sort of person—but it was almost as if he was trouble’s very own lovechild. There are better weapons against him than falling into pointless playfights.

Lee Donghyuck. Funny guy.

The school bully image was a lie, no doubt spread by someone more than annoyed with his antics. Of course, Lee Donghyuck either didn’t care or didn’t know, wits always about him like some sort of eccentric defence mechanism.

You admire him in a way, but you wouldn’t be caught dead telling him that.

Lee Donghyuck is popular, full of jokes and fun but a little rough on the edges all the same. But you have to assume he must have some demonic heritage. You could say you have a strange relationship—friends but not. You hate him but don’t. While you’re sure there’s at least a little bit of sunshine hidden beneath those black T-shirts and inked skin, there’s a bit more than hidden sides to young troublemakers—things that don’t involve misunderstanding.

Lee Donghyuck looks like danger. (And danger attracts attention of all kinds, you’d noticed in a few unfortunate heart-eyed classmates.) You’ve seen him in enough fights to have respect for him, making you wonder why he doesn’t join the debate team already. It might have something to do with how his victorious smile gets on everyone’s nerves, the way they groan at Donghyuck’s sudden affections afterward. They don’t hate him—mostly. He’s honest and he knows exactly how to press people. That doesn’t change the innocence in his arrogance or the clear distinction of his spirit.

Of course there are bad people; Donghyuck just isn’t one of them. He just tries too hard to look cool. (“Sunflower,” he’d called you, pulling a face. “I know you’re dense. But maybe start being afraid of me so you don’t ruin my reputation.”)

The sunlight falls against the web of your thumb, your fingers rapidly moving to match the pace of the game on your phone. Five minutes to class, you’ve got nothing better to do.

“What, trying to beat my high score again?” Donghyuck pulls the chair beside you to sit, his arms resting on the desk as he continues to stare at you.

“Believe me, Donghyuck, not everything I do is for you,” you chuckle, tapping on the play again button, catching the look on his face out of the corner of your eye.

Donghyuck looks visibly irked and you think maybe your decision to be so annoyingly passive has been the right one if it bothers him. Ah, but you won’t tell him that. You’re having the time of your life this way.

“Well,” Donghyuck begins but frowns instead. “Whatever.”

It’s not every day you get to win—Donghyuck does get under your skin. You just don’t have to show it. Sometimes his own friends decide they’ve had enough, the classroom shenanigans making you laugh. You don’t want to get started on the chaos that unfurls every time Donghyuck walks into class and straight up picks a fight with anyone in his eyesight—even Jaemin has his “Lee Donghyuck!” moments. Donghyuck is friends with everyone and that means he gets to get on everyone’s nerves.

You smile to yourself thinking of Donghyuck yawning deliberately at Renjun trying to make a point. Call him a demon, call him a disgrace; he knows how to make people laugh.

You pass Red’s diner on your way back home, as usual, the unusual red and white checkers replacing the normal concrete sidewalk by it. It’s always soothed you to see bright colours in this side of the city, the beige and coffee aesthetic far too dominating for its cause—something to keep up with the larger, fancier (more pretentious) metropolises.  It’s also the oldest; your friends told you the number of baby pictures everyone has on the wine-coloured couches is, in more appropriate words, fucking astounding.

You wish you’d moved here earlier. The thing about little cities is just that—they’re not all that little. Something everyone seemingly loves to boast about, the romance of a small town and its delicate simplicities. It’s nothing alike. You’d know. You enjoy it more here. You like all the food outlets and stores lining the streets and further up, less congestion and more dog parks—all places you love breezing through in your free time. There’s an amusement park too, a forty-minute drive away into the middle of nowhere and if you’re not mistaken, the city centre has the best clubs and bars. Sunshine drips through every nook and cranny—it’s everything you’d expected a city to be.

You stop in your tracks at the sight of distinct brown curls in the alleyway between buildings. Donghyuck doesn’t seem to be in the best of situations, a tougher, much larger guy shoving him against the wall. They seem to be speaking, and something about Donghyuck’s smile doesn’t give you a good feeling about what’s going to happen.

Before the guy’s fist meets Donghyuck’s cheek, you yell, two pairs of eyes shifting focus to you. You feel your heartbeat quicken, Donghyuck raising his eyebrow and shooting you a confused look.

“Don’t- don’t hurt him,” you say, cursing at the meekness of your voice.

The larger man laughs, a sound like nails on a chalkboard and you cringe. Donghyuck mouths at you to get away but immediately shuts up when the man turns to him again.

“You got a little lover come here to protect you?” he says, looking at Donghyuck with amusement.

“No, that’s not—”

“I hate little brats like you,” he huffs, shoving Donghyuck once more, this time a little harder. He lets out a pained whine, eyes squeezing shut as he drops on his knees.

You take a hesitant step back when the man makes his way to you, blood rushing to your ears when he raises his hand. Your arms go up by instinct and you’re met with a hard push, falling to the ground with a whimper.

You’re picked up by the collar, struggling to not let fear show on your face.

“Tell your boyfriend to stop messing around my store, okay, sweetheart?” he threatens, voice lower.

With that, he drops you and leaves, the adrenaline in you not quite down yet.

“Donghyuck?” you call, worried as you spot him lying still in the alleyway. You’re about to get up and go to him when he responds, whimsical as ever.

“I’m okay!” He raises his hand with a peace sign and you sigh, annoyed.

“Really?! What were you even doing?”

“I ate some cookies for free, big deal,” he says before he suddenly raises his head with a lopsided grin. “Is sunflower worried about me?”

You groan, dusting yourself as you get up and walk over to him. You throw him a light kick at the side to which he whines overdramatically and scrunches his face into something pained. Lee Donghyuck could be hit by a bus and he’d play it off with fingers guns and eyebrow wiggling.

“Become a chainsaw-juggler or something if you want to do something dangerous,” you complain, “And get up!”

Donghyuck wrinkles his nose. “As always, you have such boring ideas.”

He does get up the next moment, although with a large show of holding his back and several whines about near-death experiences as if he’s not the one bringing it upon himself. You’re sure his back is bruised but he doesn’t acknowledge it as anything more than a joke. There’s also a gash on his cheek he must have received earlier. It’s no surprise he has a fresh batch of wounds—you think he spends more time in the nurse’s office than in actual classes.

“Why do you pick fights with people clearly stronger than you?” you grumble as he dusts himself off.

“Oh, don’t misunderstand me,” Donghyuck says, straightening, “I would’ve got out of this pretty clean without you.”

You roll your eyes. “Sure thing.”

Donghyuck frowns, a huff leaving his mouth.

“I don’t mean to brag but that guy would have been running for his life if you hadn’t butt in,” he shrugs, trying to sound less ruffled.

You laugh at his expression, forgetting about your bruised arms for a moment.

“You should treat me,” you say, the thought passing your head. You don’t have change and you’re really craving some strawberry milk.

He scoffs. “For what?”

“For saving you.”

You expected a retort, at least. Donghyuck pauses for a moment before a worrying grin floats up on his face. “Sure. Come with me.”

You narrow your eyes at him but follow nonetheless, walking side by side. The sunlight makes his skin glow, the hue on his cheeks perfect were it not for the dried blood from the gash. His eyes shine when he smiles, mischief or not, when he’s telling you about how you should try vandalism and robbery sometimes, they’re pretty fun. It’s a Donghyuck trait—to be able to live like this and still call it fun. You look at his lips once and immediately look away. What a silly thought. They’re regrettably pretty, though, despite being busted often. The sun has been kind to Donghyuck, with the colour of his skin full and the confidence you’d only find in someone made of sun flares.

So that’s why.

You stare at the motorbike parked at a clearly No Parking area, the metallic red gleaming under the late afternoon sun. You’ve never been on one before but something tells you Donghyuck would traumatise you far too much to try again. You cannot agree to get on that.

“Hop on,” he instructs.

You hesitate. “Where are we going?”

“To the centre, of course.” He smiles brightly. “There’s a bunch of bakeries and eateries over there.”

“You can just buy me some strawberry milk from a vending machine around.”

“Well, I forgot my wallet,” he says, looking up to think, “I left it at my job.”

You furrow your eyebrows, not believing a word. It’s Lee Donghyuck after all, the opposite of predictable, and arguing with him will only cost you your breath.

“A motorbike and no leather jacket?” You smile, regaining your composure. “I mean, not everyone can pull off the leather jacket, of course.”

Donghyuck rolls his eyes overstatedly. “I don’t expect you to be smarter but stereotypes? Wow.”

You do get on the bike, however, with some pushing on Donghyuck’s side. More importantly, you somehow don’t end up traumatised despite what you supposed. It felt good, wind in your hair and although your legs were stuck to the sides of the bike like glue, you found yourself enjoying the scene around you speeding by. The fact that Donghyuck can be careful was beyond your knowledge and understanding.

The buildings are a little taller here and while you’ve been here before, the sight never fails to make your heartbeat quicken. There’s something inevitably calling about this place. You’d love to explore when there are nightlights around each corner.

“Your wallet?” you remind Donghyuck.

Donghyuck feigns surprise, gasping. “Right! It was in my pocket. But I have no money.”

“What? We came all the way here for nothing?!”

“No. I have a plan.” Donghyuck grins, pointing towards the pretty glass door of the bakery across the street.

“Oh no,” you say quietly as the realization dawns, “We’re not stealing.”

“Then you came all the way here for nothing.”

You sigh heavily into your hands as Donghyuck tries to sweeten his grin, clearly trying to convince you.

“You really don’t have to be this annoying, you know that?”

“It’s a choice,” he says, pulling a face, “And I do it because I excel at it, thank you very much.”

You reluctantly follow Donghyuck into the bakery, people bustling in and out, mostly for their fix of evening coffee or tea. There are photo frames around pictures of coffee beans, tea leaves and pastries, all against a soft orange wallpaper. It’s not as small as it looked from outside, you realize, with its capacity for people quite enough. The smell of chocolate is predominant, hazelnut and coffee wafting in from the left side.

“Free samples!” Donghyuck gasps, before turning to whisper to you, “You know we can try one of each, right? That saves us some trouble.”

You’d be lying if his lips so close to your ears didn’t make you jump a little. You take short steps behind him as he eagerly walks to the counter.

“Ah, is this a new type?” Donghyuck asks, beaming at the woman behind the counter. She raises an eyebrow at the ear piercings and tattoos, gracing him with a smile nonetheless.

While he’s engaged in conversation, you stare at the two of them confused till you’re met with a light kick at your foot. You give Donghyuck a dirty look, who keeps pointing towards the samples with his hands under the counter.

“You’re supposed to shove some into your bag, you know?” he leans in to whisper, exasperated, when the lady leaves to enter the pantry.

“Well, how was I supposed to know, genius?” you shoot back, crossing your arms.

Donghyuck looks around nervously before taking a few of the tarts and carefully placing them in your bag.

“Don’t move too much or you’ll crush them,” he warns in a hush.

The woman returns again, with a warmer smile and Donghyuck goes back to his clever, silver-tongued words. He’s so awful, you think. But you can’t deny the exhilaration in your chest, a giddy feeling of doing the wrong thing in a way that feels right.

You end up having the free samples afterward, pretending to contemplate buying as the woman looks at the two of you expectantly. It’s delicious, sweet chocolate manipulating your taste buds to want another bite almost immediately after you’re done.

“We do offer couple discounts, too!” she says, beaming.

There it is again, the unsettling implications—accusations almost. Since when do the two of you look like a couple? You’re obviously too young to be looking the sort of way most lovers do and where the fuck do they see any love anyway?

“Uh,” Donghyuck begins but can’t seem to form a sentence.

Before either of you can say anything, the woman is called by another customer and you look at each other at the same time.

“We should go,” he says, quickly, “before they realize we’re not buying anything.”

You nod and sneak out of the shop as quickly as you walked in, Donghyuck suddenly picking up the pace till you’re at least a few blocks away.

“You’re so slow,” Donghyuck teases, laughing when you reach him, out of breath. He adjusts his shirt, dark as always, such that it doesn’t stick out of his pants awkwardly anymore. The tattoos on his left arm catch your eye, muscles beneath flexing as his moves his arm, a strange pattern of ink. You don’t think they’re real if you’re being honest—that field of sunflowers. They’re too pretty.

You’re so annoying, you think, despite the smile forming on your face as you follow him down the lane.

What a frustrating personality, the thought crosses you at night, as you kick away the blanket at your feet. He ended up paying for some ice cream at a nearby shop anyway, right after you’d finished having your stolen goods by the dog park. He said summer needs some ice and he’ll oblige just this once with whatever few notes he has left. (“Summer just ended, idiot.” “I can’t hear you.”) The first bite had immediately given him brain freeze, a whine escaping his lips as he held his head in an attempt to soothe it. You found it cute—yes, cute, a terrible choice of words for him. It doesn’t mean anything, you tell yourself. It’s almost within his personality to intrude upon your thoughts like this—gods, you hate even the letters of his name that form so easily in front of your eyes.

The buzz from your phone gives you a fright as you quickly open it to two texts from Donghyuck. You adjust the brightness before you read it, your heartbeat embarrassing you at its rate.

demon child, 11:36 PM

btw today wasn’t a treat you still have to pay me

food is expensive you know

You smile. A part of you warns you shouldn’t.

demon child, 11:37 PM

or you can pay for next time

Your smile drops. Next time? What is this, a date? You shake your head instinctively. Like you’d make it out alive of a date with Lee Donghyuck.

you, 11:37 PM

sure thing little stingy man

demon child, 11:38 PM

wow that was fast do you like me or something

You roll your eyes. You might have really decked Donghyuck in the jaw in another timeline, where you knew how to deck someone in the jaw.

You feel a certain static in your heart, hoping you’re mistaken as you respond to his texts for the rest of the night. Lee Donghyuck needs to have the last word all the time, and you lose count of how many times you huff, only giving in when the tiredness in your eyes seeps to the rest of your body.

You think you smile in your sleep that night but you can’t be sure.

The thing about bad days is that you notice nothing outside of them when you’re having them—but you forget you ever even had them when you’re not.

You end up at school with a lack of will to pay attention to classes. It’s well into the semester, and that means it’s time for you to get to some serious studying, except, well, you can’t. You’re decent at academics—or so you’d like to think. You’re average at best and there’s a nagging thought eating away at your brain at a painfully slow rate.

The college application deadlines are near.

It doesn’t help to be second and third best at almost everything. You nod along to everything Jihyun is saying; really, he aces every subject without trying. His words aren’t exactly…encouraging. You thought his notes would be your ticket to a dream college except he’s not quite the person you should be asking help from.

You’re suddenly not sure about all the friendly competitions you’re running.

You’re starting to feel too worked up these days, worry tugging at the back of your head every moment. It’s lonely when your friends are busy with their own struggles so you stay quiet. You’re a big kid, you tell yourself, you got this.

Except you really don’t.

“Woah,” Donghyuck interrupts you and Jihyun. “You look like you used the dryer on the wrong setting.”

Sometimes, it’s really not the best of situations to have your seat beside Donghyuck. You glare at him, keeping your notebook on the table with a loud ‘SLAM!’ You turn your head to find him smiling. Oh, he better not start now.

“Ah, (name),” he says, grinning, “what’s got you so upset today?”

“Nothing,” you insist, trying your best to control your scowl.

It’s been two weeks since you ‘hung out’ (committed minor crimes) at the bakery. Your friendly bickering since then has been not-so-friendly, you think with a grimace. He’s been getting under your skin—not a favourable thing when you’re against Lee Donghyuck.

“(name).”

You look up to see Jihyun, almost always devoid of any emotion behind the eyes—even if he’s smiling.

“The notes you asked for,” he says, keeping the notes on your table and turning around, almost as if he’s glad to be rid of conversation.

“Oh, and,” Jihyun turns back around. “If you’re hoping to get into any college at all, I hope you keep the right company.”

There’s contempt in his voice and your eyes trail to Donghyuck’s, a little confused if not bothered. You shouldn’t be surprised to find him grinning, laughing almost. You think Donghyuck’s confidence is a good substitute for a leather jacket.

“Hey, come on now.” Donghyuck leans back in his seat, smiling like a kid. You wonder where all that sunshine’s coming from. “Are you still mad about me beating you at that MUN thing?”

Jihyun smiles. “Don’t jump to conclusions. I wasn’t referring to you, of course. And there’s worse things you’ve done.”

Your teacher walks in, drawing everyone’s attention instead as they scurry back to their seats. Donghyuck’s eyes linger on you for a second longer, his face blanched before he turns away and rests his chin on his palm. You think you weren’t supposed to steal so many glances at him throughout the class.

The day somehow manages to draw energy out of you even further. Worries aside, Jihyun’s been strangely demanding—are you even that close? Should he be asking you to bring things this way? Should he be making you run errands? You’re so close to losing it before you realize you can’t. He’s helping you, sort of. You groan into your hands during break, ignoring Donghyuck’s eyebrow raise from beside you. It’s unfair and while you’re sure it’s all light-hearted, you have another name to curse when you run into a problem. Ah, the scorn of high school kids is truly incomparable.

You almost sigh in relief at the last ring of the bell for the day, getting up a little too enthusiastically. You get some admonishment from the teacher at that but you forget once you’ve reached the gates, almost running out faster than your friends. They let you go with a laugh, your desire to get home and take a nap triumphing every other thing on your mind. Some days are meant to be forgotten.

Cursed as you are, you bump into Donghyuck a few blocks from the bus stop. He adjusts the collar of his plaid shirt in a hurry, the black T-shirt underneath so worn out, you wonder how many years he’s been wearing that. The symbol on his baseball cap is probably related to a demon cult, you think. It being related to a metal band is also a possibility.

“(name),” he says, grinning. “What a coincidence.”

“Don’t pick a fight now, demon,” you huff before he can continue.

“I didn’t even say anything.” He raises his arms defensively. “Yet.”

You have the intense desire to punch him. When did the tables turn to this? Weren’t you supposed to be the calm one?

“You had fun running errands for President Snob?” he snickers.

“Well, I didn’t want to,” you say, your shoulders dropping, annoyed as you are. It makes you a little upset for something to affect you that much. You wish you were like the kids who barely cared about things like college applications, enjoying life either way. You wish you didn’t have this strange pretence of a person you are. You wish you were like Donghyuck.

There’s a pause.

“Come on. Don’t let anyone push you around like that.”  His voice comes off as exasperated. Donghyuck isn’t the kind of person to let worry show.

You look up, a little surprised. Before you can open your mouth, he cuts you off.

“There’s some festival going on at the centre,” he says with a shrug. “Lots of food trucks. Wanna come?”

You furrow your eyebrows, a frown taking shape over your lips.

“Stealing off others doesn’t exactly make me feel good about myself,” you say, hugging yourself. As fun as the adrenaline rush was, it’s better to stick to morals, whatever they may be.

“I’ll pay,” he says, his smile incredulous. “I promise.”

You raise an eyebrow. “What, you got a credit card lying around somewhere?”

“Nope,” he responds, rolling his eyes. “No credit card. Don’t believe in money.”

“Then how do you plan on paying?” you ask, frustrated.

“Trust me,” he whispers, urging you to follow him.

It turns out Donghyuck happens to know every food outlet in the city and also happens to have been kicked out of half of them, which is oddly impressive. He’s also worked several jobs in local eateries, the old ladies more than fond of him. (“Who wouldn’t find my charming smile adorable?”)

“You hobgoblin,” you exclaim, huffing. His story about vandalism on the bleachers shouldn’t have been as amusing, or endearing, for that matter.

“According to our lovely folklore, hobgoblins can warm your heart,” he replies, as-a-matter-of-factly.

“That is definitely not true. You just have to respond with something, don’t you?”

“And what of it?”

A (surprisingly) within-speed-limits bike ride away, you end up in a flurry of colours and crowds—you gasp at the large line of food trucks lining the pathway leading to the people’s square. You’ve never seen this before, looking from place to place. A lot of them look like they’ve come from pretty far.

At the square, there are wooden stalls of food out for trial by the people, shopkeepers encouraging the few tourists there are to try the local food. You spot various fishcakes, dumplings and street toast with glimpses of strawberry and banana milk decorating the stands in between. There are old upbeat songs playing through the speakers attached to the electricity poles, faint enough to be drowned out by crowds but loud enough to enjoy a little dance to. You didn’t realize you were smiling till you turned around to see an amused look on Donghyuck’s face.

Time only seems to fly—like when you’re done with your favourite song and it just wasn’t long enough so you hit repeat. The truth is, a song is barely four minutes—and yet you feel like you saw a movie, a story in it; so very curious because you were so sure it was too short.

Donghyuck walks side by side with you to where his bike is parked. (You wonder if he ever travels without it. Gas isn’t exactly cheap.) There’s little distance between the two of you, something neither of you seems to notice. You bite into the sugar candy, the sudden crack sound in the quiet lane making the two of you laugh despite the surge of sugar on your tongue. You forget what you were talking about.

“Why do you even steal, Donghyuck?” You ask softly. You paid for some food today, some were free samples and mostly, there was nothing illegal involved. Donghyuck didn’t particularly want to cause trouble either. You don’t want to be a bad judge of character.

“Because I can.”

What an expected answer. Is there anything Donghyuck can’t do?

“Don’t you feel bad?” You raise an eyebrow. He’s always been so confusing, but when he starts to make sense, you feel like you should’ve seen it that way in the first place.

“Are you talking about our sweet bakery? You really think a company as big as theirs would notice some free samples are missing?” Donghyuck says, making a face. “In a city no one cares about?”

You don’t say anything, puffing your left cheek in contemplation.

“Look, I could spend the rest of my life looting as much as my arms could carry and I would never be able to make my crimes pose even the smallest threat to a single shitty millionaire.” Donghyuck waves his hands about in a gesture that implies indifference.

You suppose he’s right, walking up to him and continuing your journey up.

“I’m not justifying myself,” he says, voice softer, shoulders relaxed. “Stealing’s bad. Other people are affected. I know. It’s just that I like having more choices than they give us. We should try everything we can, you know?”

Is that why he’s always up to something? Flitting from club to club in school, running around the entire city like it’s his own?

He shakes himself immediately, cringing. “Ah. Ew. I can’t believe you’re getting to my head, sunflower. Yuck. You’re ruining me. Did I just monologue?”

“Oh, okay.” You cross your arms. “That’s my fault now. It’s a good thing to be honest, asshole.”

“La, la, la.” Donghyuck puts his fingers in his ears, sticking out his tongue. “Can’t lecture me if I can’t hear you.”

You punch his shoulders, his laugh accompanying the evening blooming in full colours above you as you forget you’re already on your journey back.

You reach Red’s before nightfall, a sort of pitstop for kids like you when it’s time to go home before the night soaks into you. Donghyuck feels lighter in his chest as he enters, the jingling pleasant and the smell of waffles even more so. He just can’t believe you’re the reason he’s here.

“Obviously, we’re going for chocolate waffles,” he says, crossing his arms.

The tables outside are better than the stuffy humid air inside. Donghyuck’s complaining didn’t let you take even a step inside.

“We just ate,” you reason, your eyebrows furrowed. “And honey is always better!”

“Eh, what do you know?” he says, resting his elbow against the table. “I was raised in this diner, newbie.”

“Yeah, you and a million other rats.”

He presses his tongue against his cheek to stop the smile, although he reckons he’s doing a terrible job of it.

Get yourself together, one voice pipes up in his head.

Or say it. Ask them out. Yeah, the other voice is a piece of shit. That’s not going to work out.

Donghyuck didn’t realize he’d fallen silent, a daze over his eyes. He blinks a few time to regain focus, the peach hue across your cheeks coming to his attention. It’s adorable, if he could just reach out and place his palm against your cheek, just lean over the table and—

Fuck. No way.

“Stop staring at me like some sleaze,” you huff, eyes flickering between him and the table.

“Why would I stare at you?” he retorts, resisting the heat on his face. “You’re not that pretty.”

“Right,” you say, rolling your eyes as you hold your arm.

The lights lining the eaves flicker on almost at the same time, the sky still in transitionary lilac and you look up with your lips parted, something akin to curiosity in your eyes. Pretty. It could just be the reflection of the lights though—Donghyuck’s not exactly the poetic type. He wants to curl his lips at the notion, but it’s not very smart to have all his thoughts show up on his face.

“Can we stay here a little longer?” you say, eyes still on the lights, occasionally shifting to the sky.

“Your parents will worry.” Donghyuck thinks for a moment before mumbling, “It’s not safe.”

“Then drop me home,” you say, your eyes shifting to meet his, an unusual confidence in them.

He’d be lying if he said he didn’t feel the skip of his heartbeat.

Donghyuck thinks he should pat himself on the back for not speeding all the times you were with him on his bike. He loves the thing to death, although he’s had it for barely a year. The jolt of adrenaline and the freedom blooming in sprouts within his ribcage should be a dead giveaway to what he feels about speeding. Donghyuck’s never really cared about rules. Break them, bend them—it’s up to him and he loves that feeling of control. Whatever people think of him, they’re nowhere close to the truth. They’ll never know just how much he has everything under control.

Except you.

How annoying, he thinks to himself as he feels the speed picking up and your distant warmth behind him. He feels a little tingle in his chest, the way he always does when he gets the urge to do something reckless.

What if he were to speed up just a little? No, that would be childish. He should definitely not do that.

You wrap your arms around his waist with a squeak at the sudden jerk as he revs up the bike, a grin growing on his face despite his attempts to hold it back. You’re warm, compared to the sharp winds grazing him and he wants you to hold onto him like this a little longer. If he’s not childish now, when else will he be?

You hadn’t realized you’d fallen asleep, faint sunlight hiding behind the curtains ready to present the evening to you. A celebratory nap for the end of the deadlines that’s been haunting you overextended a little bit more than you’d anticipated. Just a few more weeks and it’s the finals and then, it’s all over. You stretch your hand out to switch on the lights, groaning when you can’t seem to reach it and reluctantly getting up.

You startle, a little yelp leaving your mouth at the knock on your window. What in hell? Either you haven’t slept enough or you slept too much.

You let out another yelp when you see Donghyuck’s face. There’s a band-aid over the line of his jaw starting to peel off and another one over the bridge of his nose. His hair looks recently washed, underneath the cap he’s wearing the right way for once, a pleasant smell wafting off him. You wonder what the occasion is for him to have cleaned up like this.

“Did you just climb up to my window?!”

There’s a pause.

“Yes.”

There’s another pause.

“Anyway,” he continues, “Since you’ve been enjoying my premium Haechan recommendations lately, I’ve got another plan for you.”

“Haechan?” You tilt your head. “Full sun? Is that why you call me sunflower?”

Donghyuck’s cheeks colour. “That’s- That’s not- We’re going to the club today!”

You find the sudden fluctuation in his voice cute. You suppress your smile, before giving in to his constant nagging for you to hurry up and follow him. (“Why would I get out through the window?” “Won’t your parents, like, kill me if they saw me at your front door?”)

There’s no bike today. In a way, you’re sad it isn’t there; the memory of your arms around Donghyuck making you feel hot in the cheeks for wanting it again.

“I finished my budget for fuel because of you,” he complains.

“No one asked you to be a show-off,” you retort.

He opens his mouth but says nothing, resorting to pull a face at you instead. Public transportation it is today. Even if there’s, what, nine subway stations in the city, Donghyuck seems to have already planned out the route. He walks with a bounce to his steps, turning around to walk backward facing you just to laugh and call you slow.

You run up the stairs to the station, another evening beginning something yet anew. The clouds disappear, replaced with the tiles of the station roof as Donghyuck eyes something in the distance.

“Oh no,” you say, your gaze traveling to wherever his is fixed. “We’re paying for the tickets. Hell, I’ll pay.”

Donghyuck grins at you and before he can make the stupid decision of jumping over the faregate, you grab the back of his collar, a choked sound leaving his mouth. You pull him by the sleeves of his hoodie to the ticket machines, relatively empty when the old folk use the ticket booths instead.

“You’ll go to jail if you murder me,” Donghyuck says, whining as he massages his neck. “It’s not pleasant, let me tell you that.”

“You’ve been?”

“Not yet.”

The club Donghyuck was talking about turns out to be more of a music joint, really. The letters ‘No Smoking’ spelled clearly beside the entrance, you eye the guard nervously. A rather skinny man who seems to be in his early twenties, you wonder how Donghyuck knows him as he lets the two of you in. You don’t have time to ask as you’re pulled in, a gasp barely leaving your mouth at the force.

It’s different inside. It’s not as dark as you’d expect, a rather mellow set of colours spread through the place. There’s a band playing songs from the 80s, the sound of indie rock pulsing through the place. Some people are dancing, some sitting at the round tables, looking as if they’re waiting for someone or, at the very least, a pretty stranger.  

You look up at Donghyuck, a hum on his lips as he thinks.

“The song’s so boring,” he says finally. “Let’s change it.”

“It’s a live band, Donghyuck.” You deadpan. “You can’t press next here.”

“It’s called requesting, stupid.”

Donghyuck runs off before you can say anything, suddenly awkward about standing alone in a room full of people. You look around—the amount of people isn’t too much but at the same time it’s much more than you see in your average crowded room. Most of them are sitting, now that you see clearly, some with ramen on the tables, some with beer and chicken. There’s a bar at the other edge, people joking with each other over drinks.

You’re not sure how you’d describe it but it smells like people in here.

You look around further, curiously, at the beige wallpaper and vines decorating the edges—it’s larger than you thought a club would be. (But really, the only images you have are of purple and blue lighting on giant drunk crowds when you think of clubs.)

“Hey, pretty.”

You startle at the voice, an older man standing beside you. He seems to be a little old for a college kid, a rather impish look on his face with a very prominent grin.

“Uh, hi,” you say, unsure.

“You don’t come here often, do you?” He leans his left side against the wall.

“No, not really.” You’re a minor. Technically, you’re not even allowed in here.

Your nervousness seems to have shown up on your face because the guy straightens, a little smile on his face.

“Woah, don’t look so worried.” He laughs a little. There’s a scent of alcohol in his breath. “Will a friendly handshake make you feel better?”

You look on, a little unsure but definitely surprised. You go along with what he says, the movement of your hands in the childish pattern bringing a smile to your face till eventually, you’re laughing.

“I don’t mean to be too forward,” he says, “But you’re, like, a kid, right?”

You straighten, stammering out words of denial. You don’t want to be kicked out. You’ve never been kicked out of anything before.

“And that’s your boyfriend right there?” He asks, pointing over to Donghyuck having a conversation with the bass guitarist.

You think you turn pink, but you shake your head vehemently.

“Well, don’t worry, kid,” he says, laughing. “Enjoy it while you can. Not everyone gets to have a partner in crime.”

With that, he walks off to the bar after a wave of goodbye and a smile, making you wonder if adults really are the same as you. You smile a little to yourself.

You yelp when you’re grabbed by the arm, Donghyuck’s own arm linking through it.

“I’m gonna teach you how to dance,” he says, grinning. “Be prepared to thank me.”

You furrow your eyebrows at him and right when you open your mouth the next song starts with a drum solo. You look at the band, confused. They’re all grinning, however, and soon the song steadies into an upbeat sort of mood. You think you smile, but it’s probably just in the eyes.

“Eyes on me, loser,” Donghyuck says, smiling wide at you.

You turn back to him, an indescribable amount of emotions surging into you. Lee Donghyuck is a phenomenon of a person, you think, almost ready to voice it out loud.

More people join in with the dancing, the place seeming much fuller now that you see everyone up. You catch the man from earlier throwing you a wink and a finger gun in a friendly gesture. You laugh in response, Donghyuck complaining about your lack of focus. (If you’re being honest, you think he meant your lack of attention to him.)

You can’t count the minutes or hours—what’s the difference, really? Donghyuck smiles through his eyes, telling you you’re a terrible dancer (and that, of course, not everyone is born perfect like him). You learn to love the unknown songs, each note catching on to a new piece of your heart as Donghyuck shows you a move to copy, singing along gibberish lyrics to the songs he doesn’t know. It’s weird how you can mould into songs like this, songs you don’t even know—their beats pulling out different people and melodies making that person familiar.

There’s a soft halt when Donghyuck catches something through the corner of his eyes. He makes a face that spells out ‘yikes’ before leading you off the dance floor, snaking through the crowds till you’re back to the entrance.

“What’s wrong?” You say, eyes scanning his face.

“Oh, nothing, really,” he says, an unsure lilt to his voice.

Your question answers itself at the gruff voice barely audible over the music, a notch louder than when you’d entered.

“Hey, kid!”

Your heart jumps against your ribcage at the uniform of a police officer by the entrance, thinking whether everything really had to go wrong right now. Is underage dancing a crime? You didn’t drink and—oh, the entrance probably said 19+.

Donghyuck’s eyes flit from place to place looking for an escape when the officer confronts him, grabbing him by the shoulder.

“You’re the kid that’s been stealing around the shops, aren’t you?”

“Uh, no?” Donghyuck raises an eyebrow, the expression on his face almost comedic. “You’ve got the wrong kid, officer.”

“And what might you be doing in a club? Where’s your ID?”

“About that…”

Donghyuck pushes the man with his elbow, leg extending to trip him, catching him off guard. You’d even be impressed if the loud crash didn’t make you yelp in surprise, looking at the two of them with terrified incredulity.

Donghyuck takes off running almost immediately after before backtracking and gesturing at you exasperatedly. “You know you’re supposed to run when I run, right?”

“What the fuck just happe—”

Donghyuck doesn’t wait to explain, gripping your hand in his and tugging you to match his insane pace as you exit through the entrance.

It takes a while to reach the subway station even at that speed and with the distant shouts of the police officer prompting you to move faster. The sky’s much darker now—you think it must be well into late evening before night gets ready to clutch the time. Donghyuck moves with careful calculation, taking turns in places you have no clue about and soon you’re running up the stairs with your breath barely caught in your throat.

The station lights are dim but you’re good as long as you don’t trip over something. You turn to the ticket machine in panic when you hear the officer’s voice by the gates.

“No time!” Donghyuck pulls you away, effortlessly jumping over the faregate and looking at you expectantly.

“I can’t do that, Donghyuck!” you complain, panic rising in your chest, adrenaline drowning the rest of it.

Before you can say anything more, Donghyuck reaches over the gate, pulling you up by the waist and grabbing your hand all over again to run down the stairs to the tunnels.

“Hey!”

You hear the shout of the lady behind the ticket counter, clearly having seen your misconduct as you pray for her to forget your face. You’d like to be able to use the subway for future travel.

The train’s about to shut its door when you reach. Donghyuck treads quickly on the stone before he jumps on, pulling you in just in time to avoid getting caught in between the sliding doors.

For a moment, there’s only the sound of heavy breathing and the movement of the train on its tracks, the burning in your throat drowning out other senses. You slide down to crouch on the floor, your face hot and sweat drenching your forehead and neck. Your shoelaces are undone, you notice, no energy left in you to reach out and tie them into your perfect knots.

There’s a few moments of silence as you regain your composure.

“What was that?!” You laugh, unable to control yourself as you clutch your stomach. “You almost got arrested!”

He joins in with his sunny laughter, crouching down beside you. “Man, I really thought I was done for.”

After a few moments, Donghyuck sits with his legs crossed atop the passenger seat, the coach mostly empty save for you and an old couple at the far corner. He animatedly recalls a story of another near-arrest he had, with you laughing beside him.

A thought passes you in between jokes and stories—what if everything was like this always? Just the two of you, in a room full of people, in a room without people. You think you’ve started looking at Donghyuck a bit too much. You’re not sure about regretting it.

Donghyuck’s been getting the strangest of impulses these days.

He tilts his head away from you to check the time on his watch, the gentle weight of your head on his shoulder reassuring, even if it’s hard to admit. It’s half-past ten and he’s been staring at you for a little over an hour now. Who falls asleep in the subway? Sure, there being not many stops, the journey between each is longer but Donghyuck wouldn’t be caught dead drooling on someone’s shoulder like this.

You shift, Donghyuck immediately moving to cradle your head with his hand so it just doesn’t drop off. Your lips are puffed even in sleep as if you’re still caught in an argument with him. He chuckles to himself. It’s so like you.

Cross the line. The voice in his head says. Just dip your head a little and…

Your head leans into the skin between his neck and shoulder, a shot of electricity pulsing through him at the contact. There’s a race of thoughts within him, thoughts he shouldn’t be having.

What is he so afraid of, really? What is he, Lee Donghyuck, so afraid of? Love? That’s the lamest thing he can think of.

It’s true, though.

Fucking voice of his conscience—loud thoughts are more a pain in the ass than anything else. Donghyuck will resort to cowardice if it be so. He’s not going to be reduced to something he’s not just because he’s head over heels in his own feelings for you.

Donghyuck pushes the hair from your face, craning his neck to be able to see you better. Wanting to love, wanting to be loved—what a stupid thing to fear. He sighs, closing his own eyes and checking the time once again. He’ll wake you up in a few minutes when your station’s near.

You stop at the medicine to store to buy antiseptic cream and some band-aids. Donghyuck says he doesn’t need it, he has some at home but you must be good at convincing. There’s a little garden of scratches on his palm even he’s not sure when he received.

You sit in the empty parking lot, under the only streetlight that seems to be working in the area. The convenience store beside you is there to provide its twenty-four-hour lights if not anything else. There are some people out on nightly walks, you notice when you look at the sidewalk. It surprises you a little to see shapes of people against midnight blue.

You’ve never been out so late. You text your mom to remind her you’re still alive before you can turn your attention to Donghyuck.

“Okay! Enough!” He retreats his hand, complaining. “My hand smells like a pharmacy at this point.”

You lean back against the streetlamp, sighing.

“I can’t believe we ran away from a police officer,” you say, a goofy smile on your face as you stretch your arms in front of you.

“There’s always a first.” Donghyuck grin. “You don’t have to thank me for that, by the way.”

You roll your eyes. “One of these days, you’ll regret it. How long do you plan on being reckless?”

“How long do you plan on pretending you don’t enjoy it?” He asks, face leaning in with a sly smile.

You think you feel heat on your cheeks, you can’t be sure, but you end up scoffing, a rather losing response to someone who’s used to winning.

“You’re clearly into my devilishly handsome face,” he continues with an exaggerated shake of his head. “Does my recklessness turn you on? Don’t you think I look good? You can’t blame m—”

This brat.

You yank him by the cloth of his hoodie to get face to face, noses almost touching. Watching the confidence drain from his face, you’d laugh but it’d just give away the sudden adoration you feel. What a shame this demon was blessed to be so cute.

There’s a pause the length of a breath.

Donghyuck’s eyelids flutter close just as he presses his lips against yours, a soft sound escaping yours. He places a hand against your cheek as nimbly as possible, something pushing him to deepen what you have. You give in, humming into the kiss as you pull yourself closer.

For all the havoc he wreaks, Donghyuck isn’t necessarily a bad kisser. His lips are soft—his investment in lip balms improved since you first met him and the scent of whatever he used is delicious.

It’s a few moments of kissing when Donghyuck suddenly pulls back.

“I don’t deserve this,” he says, eyes flickering.

You look on, unsure. It’s not like him to falter. “What- What do you mean?”

“I mean,” he responds, looking at his hands, “that I’m really not good enough. I’m just- I’m not who people think I am. Hell, I don’t know who I am. It’s just- I don’t-”

You place your hand against his cheek, his rambling fading away as he looks into you.

“Even if you like me because you think I’m fun,” he continues, “I mess things up, you know? I mess things up really bad. If you get hurt- If- Ah, I don’t know what to say.”

“I really like you, Donghyuck,” you whisper, “but you’re making no sense right now.”

There’s a pause within the night air.

“I…I put a kid in the hospital,” he says, voice low and upset. “In middle school. I- I didn’t mean to! I can’t remember what happened but…we had to pay the bills and- and we’re still recovering.”

There’s a stifling silence. You lift his chin up so he faces you, the inability to see his expression troubling.

“I still feel guilty,” he whispers. “I do things for fun. And I fuck up the consequences.”

Donghyuck’s calculating and careful. You already know that.

“It’s okay,” you assure him, not finding any better words. “We’re big kids now.”

“But that doesn’t mean—”

“I’m not saying anything like that,” you interrupt. “We’ll still fuck up, you know? Adults fuck up. Doesn’t mean we don’t do things at all.”

“God, I hate you lecturing me,” he groans, looking away.

You crack a smile, still holding his face, the side without the band-aid. Donghyuck doesn’t say you’re right, a short chuckle on his lips instead before he leans in to peck you on the mouth, slowly turning into another kiss.

You think you hear the buzz of fireflies, spring’s darlings, although you didn’t know they’d be found here. Donghyuck looks pretty under the streetlight, as you connect mole to mole, an airy feeling in your chest, almost bubbling over.

You want to tell him he’s amazing, but you figure you’d tend to his ego some other day.

“Hey, you got that leather jacket!” you exclaim when you walk into class, Donghyuck’s head in Renjun’s chokehold.

He’s quick to defend himself, shaking Renjun off him and scoffing. “I didn’t get it because you said so, obviously.”

You shake your head with a laugh, sitting at your place. Donghyuck smiles to himself before dropping it to shoot some comments at Renjun.

“Nothing going on with our precious demon there?”

You look up to see Jaemin smiling at you, clearly onto something. You haven’t told anyone yet, every rendezvous a ridiculously honest secret.

You turn your head to see Donghyuck consuming a bag of hot Cheetos in what seems to be a competition with Zhong Chenle. You shake your head, furrowing your eyebrows at the scene. What’s even going on in their heads? If anything at all, that is.

Jaemin clears his throat, bringing your attention back to him. He has some sort of expectation in his eyes.

You laugh, more than enough to answer him. Really, being fond of Lee Donghyuck shouldn’t feel so much a crime as the city lights in his eyes do.

[devendrasbeard]

Only If For A Night

Prompt: They’ve had a few drinks Relationships: Eskel/Jaskier Rating: E Content Warnings: Drunkness, Drunk Kissing, Drunk Confessions Summary:  Eskel is a private driver for a very famous and very successful fashion designer. Having seen the more private side of his boss, he eventually develops feelings for him. One night of drunken confessions can bring a massive change to their professional relationship.

Also on ao3!

"My dear friends, acquaintances, sponsors and clients!" Jaskier's happy voice, amplified by several speakers around the small stage, echoed across the hall. "Thank you for gathering here tonight, so that you'll be the first ones to see, admire, and buy the newest designs from my Dandelions collection!"

A round of applause and excited gasps was heard as a group of androgynous models dressed in wonderfully flowy gowns joined Jaskier on the stage. The clothes were kept in a gender neutral fashion, the fabrics thin as if made of morning mist, but at the same time vibrant with colors, their ethereal vibe contrasted with black hemming at the edges.

"In the next hour the models will be available for you, so that you can get a feel of the clothes, talk about how comfortable of a wear these are. You can even try something on, if the models let you!" Jaskier continued into the microphone. "Just remember - these are real people, not coat hangers! I expect respect towards them and no stepping over any boundaries!"

Eskel stood at the far end of the hall, leaning comfortably against a wall, now and then taking a sip from his glass of water. The day was very hot as for late May, so he was wearing a simple white buttoned up shirt with short sleeves and some black slacks instead of his usual suit ensemble. He loosened the knot in his thin black tie, as he watched Jaskier walk down from the stage and fall into the embrace of his enthusiastic friends.

He liked watching Jaskier, his boss, from afar. Jaskier was fierce, flamboyant and bubbly around his friends, at events, and in front of the media people, but when he thought nobody was looking, his face turned pensive, sometimes even sad. That melancholic, brooding side of Jaskier showed up mostly in the evenings, when the lights went out, his friends went home and it was just him and Eskel driving him home. Eskel liked that side of him.

A few hours into the after party Jaskier approached him, hugging a whole bottle of bourbon to his chest. His cheeks were flushed, blue eyes glistening, his elaborate hairstyle already mussed a little. "Fuck me if this isn't the best collection I've made so far."

Eskel nodded, trying to suppress a chuckle. Whenever Jaskier was tipsy, he forgot about any conventionalities and talked to Eskel as if he was his long time buddy, not his private driver. "It's really good." Eskel admitted. "Need my assistance with anything?"

Jaskier placed a warm palm on Eskel's chest, his bright blue eyes looking up at him. "I wanna go home, my head feels dizzy from all the hugs, fake kisses and congratulations."

"You're sure it's the congratulations and not the bourbon?" Eskel cocked his head, raising a brow in amusement.

"Hey!" Jaskier's long finger was now poking at Eskel's chest. "I pay you to drive me around, not to judge my life's choices."

"Let's go then, I'll drive you home," Eskel nodded and led Jaskier to the door, desperately trying not to wrap a protective arm around his boss' frame.

****

Jaskier ducked his head through the partition divider, resting his chin on his hands. The strong smell of alcohol mixed with Jaskier's flowery cologne hit Eskel's nose. "Do you like me, Eskel?" He whispered, too close to Eskel's ear.

Eskel shot him a quick glance through the rearview mirror, clearing his throat. "How do you mean?"

"Am I likeable?" Jaskier pouted and cocked his head to the side, to lay it on the cold metal frame of the divider. "Do you like me as a person? I know I am trying to be a good boss and I hope you're satisfied with the work you're doing here for me and that I'm not a pain in the ass for making you drive me around... But am I likeable as a person? Can you even look at me as a person and not your boss, slash famous designer?"

Eskel huffed, feeling goosebumps creeping up his neck. So today's drunk Jaskier's mood was philosophical. Through his last year of driving Jaskier around he's seen him in every sorry state - from being awkwardly horny after a hook up gone wrong, through being insanely euphorical and singing at the top of his lungs in the back seat, to being absolutely shit-faced, making Eskel stop the car every five minutes, so that he could get out and barf on the sidewalk.

But Jaskier asking him if Eskel liked him caught him off guard. What was he supposed to say to that? That ever since he started working for him, he wanted to wrap his arms around Jaskier and kiss him so hard he'd forget his own name? That his heart fluttered everytime Jaskier sent him that deep look and loving smile when they accidentally locked eyes in the rearview mirror? That he's been yearning to spend every second of his life with him? That he loved everything about him - his generosity, his laugh, his creative mind? This wasn't Eskel's place, he was just Jaskier's employee, yet he felt compelled to say something. "You're a good person, Jaskier." He tried.

"Then how come that on the day my newest collection premieres..." He stopped, interrupted by a series of hiccups. "Why is that, that people hug me and kiss me and yet..." He plopped dramatically onto the back seat and sighed. "Why am I yet again going home alone?"

Eskel sighed, a feeling of a thousand needles prickling on his skin. He wanted to pull Jaskier up and wrap him in a tight embrace and scream at the top of his lungs that he was there for him, always, forever! Instead he sighed again, turned to Jaskier for a second and asked, "Should I put your fave music on?"

"Yes, please," Jaskier mumbled. "Thank you, Esk."

****

"We're here," Eskel turned to Jaskier after he parked the limo outside of Jaskier's apartment building. "Is there anything else I can do for you tonight?"

Jaskier smiled at him, sitting splayed all over the backseat, his hair a mess and his shirt already halfway open, giving Eskel more than a sneak peek of his thick chest hair and the several necklaces dangling on his torso. Eskel swallowed thickly, his mouth suddenly dry, and then Jaskier leaned forward and whispered, "You can come upstairs with me."

Eskel's eyes widened, a hotness creeping up his neck. It was all he ever wanted, but he felt he shouldn't do it tonight, not with Jaskier in this state of mind. He had to think and be reasonable for them both. "Jaskier... You're drunk and tired, I don't think that's a-" A warm finger on his lips shut him up.

"That bottle of bourbon won't empty itself," Jaskier tried for a seductive smile which turned out pretty wonky, but still managed to tug at Eskel's heartstrings. "C'mon, just one drink? You can probably drive after one drink?"

Eskel huffed, his mind racing and trying to weigh all the pros and cons of the situation he's gotten himself into. Jaskier looked at him with pleading eyes, not saying anything, waiting for Eskel's move. "Okay, one drink."

They got out of the car, Jaskier propping himself up on Eskel's shoulder as they entered the building. "Good morning, Jerome," Jaskier addressed the concierge with a wide smile.

"It's midnight, Mr. Pankratz," the concierge rolled his eyes, the look on his face indicating he's seen Jaskier in this state more than once.

As soon as they got into Jaskier's penthouse, Jaskier moved straight to the alcohol cabinet, leaving Eskel in the middle of the spacious living room. Eskel looked around the place, admiring all the art pieces on the walls and various trinkets scattered around the furniture. But the view from the vast windows was what truly mesmerized him - he moved towards the glass walls, gazing down at the night city, so calm and otherworldly from here.

"Thank you for joining me," Jaskier's voice next to him startled him a little. "I really didn't want to be home alone tonight," he added quietly.

"No problem," Eskel smiled at him, noticing that now besides the bourbon bottle, Jaskier was also nursing a flask of red wine. He held both up for Eskel to choose his drink from. Eskel took the wine bottle and asked, "Should I fetch us some glasses, or do I just chug straight from the bottle?"

Jaskier patted his shoulder lightly, laughing too loud, as if Eskel told a joke, then hiccuped a little. "I'll get us some glasses, you..." he waved towards the sofas and armchairs, "you make yourself comfortable."

Eskel didn't get to sit yet when he heard the sound of breaking glass and a sharp hiss coming from the kitchen. He jumped up, leaving the wine bottle on the table and moved towards Jaskier.

"It's nothing, it's nothing," Jaskier was already kneeling on the floor, clumsily collecting the broken pieces of a wine glass. "Guess everything went too smoothly for me today."

The sigh that left Jaskier's lips sounded more like a broken whimper and Eskel's heart physically hurt at the sight of his famous and successful boss looking so small and pitiful in the middle of his kitchen. He felt like crying. "Leave it, I'll clean it up," he offered. "Maybe you should go to bed, lay down a little?"

Jaskier looked up at him, the gaze of his blue eyes unfocused. He pointed at Eskel with his index finger while standing up. "No, you-... You've promised me that one drink!"

"Fine."

****

Two hours later Eskel knew he wasn't going to make it home that night. The wine bottle in his hands was almost empty, and he felt slightly light-headed and dizzy, but not drunk. Jaskier, on the other hand, was already edging on wasted, his shirt now unbuttoned, cheeks red, his words incoherent and slurry.

"Y'know, I'm fully aware of my... My pre... my pry... My privilege," he blurted out, "but yet I give myself permission to feel miserable from time to time... And now is the day!" he gestured with his hand, in which he held the bourbon bottle, spilling a little on the table.

"Okay, I'll take this," Eskel grabbed the bottle from him as Jaskier plopped back onto the sofa.

"How do you know who's your friend?" Jaskier asked, his gaze focused on the ceiling as if he was trying to find an answer there. "People hug me and kiss me and invite themselves into... Into my life and then what? They want free stuff, they want contacts with my famous friends, they want..." He stopped and looked over at Eskel, his blue eyes sad and pleading, as if he waited for Eskel to give him a solution.

"Look for those who stick around when the lights go out, when the party's over... For-for those who ask you how you feel and not what you can give to them." He felt the hotness of embarrassment creep up his neck, his ears turning red. He was talking about himself and he only gave himself permission to do so because Jaskier was drunk and wouldn't remember it the next day.

"That's... wise," Jaskier nodded and reached out with his hand to pat Eskel's cheek. Then his eyes narrowed as if he was trying to remember something important. "You never asked me for anything."

Eskel cleared his throat, and turned his face away from Jaskier, to hide his unease. "I'm... I'm fine. I'm happy with my job."

"Yeah? What do you do for a living?" Jaskier asked.

That caused Eskel to chuckle, and Jaskier followed with his pearly laugh, although he didn't know what was going on, and in a moment they were both laughing loudly and snickering like children. Jaskier patted Eskel's knee several times before leaning back onto the sofa.

"Jaskier, I work for you. I drive you around, remember?" Eskel said, wiping tears of mirth from the corner of his eye.

"Right." Jaskier nodded. "I hope I pay you well."

"You're a good boss," Eskel smiled. They locked eyes for a long moment, not saying anything. Jaskier licked his lips subconsciously and Eskel had to look away, the sight causing a warm feeling to coil in his stomach. "Alright, boss, time to get you to bed," he cleared his throat. "I'll crash on the couch if you don't mind, can't really drive now."

"Oh no no, no sleepin' on couches in my house! I have guest rooms for guests!" Jaskier stood up abruptly, too quickly for the drunken state he was in. His foot kicked the table leg and he wobbled a little, losing his balance.

He landed in Eskel's lap, Eskel instinctively putting a protective arm over him to save him from falling over and onto his back. Jaskier grabbed Eskel's shoulder for balance and suddenly their faces were incredibly close. So close Eskel could smell Jaskier's cologne, now suppressed by the tangy scent of bourbon. He was so close that Eskel could see those tiny crows feet forming at the corners of Jaskier's eyes, he could notice his flared nostrils and the wet shimmer on his lips. He swallowed audibly.

"Whoo, that was close. Thank-... Thank you," Jaskier laughed lightly and squeezed his shoulder. In a silent reply, Eskel caressed Jaskier's back gently, so delicately as if he didn't want Jaskier to feel it. But apparently Jaskier did, because he leaned forward and pressed a soft butterfly kiss to Eskel's lips. He pulled away and looked Eskel deep in the eyes, while undoing his tie. "Could you... Can you, just for tonight, forget that I'm your boss?" he asked quietly.

Eskel looked at him wide eyed, frozen in place and unable to speak. But when Jaskier gave his tie one last slight tug, he was lost. He's been waiting for that little sign, for a nod of permission, and as soon as he got it, he launched forward, pushing Jaskier off his knees and pressing him down onto the sofa with his weight.

He kissed him, reluctantly at first, but when Jaskier let out the first quiet whimper of pleasure, Eskel was all lost on him. He pressed his lips to Jaskier's, with his eyes closed, trying to put into that kiss all that yearning and longing he'd felt for Jaskier for months.

Jaskier was under him, sighing and panting, arching into Eskel’s touch. Responding to every kiss with passion. Eskel moaned into Jaskier's mouth as his hands roamed under his already open shirt, caressing the soft skin on Jaskier's sides, skimming over his chest hair and slightly tugging at the multiple necklaces on his neck.

Jaskier sat up and fumbled with the buttons on Eskel's shirt, his now clumsy fingers too uncoordinated to undo them. He tugged desperately at the shirt, causing two buttons to pop off and fall to the floor. They both looked at them, Jaskier with a hint of embarrassment, Eskel amazed with Jaskier's strength. Jaskier pulled at Eskel's shirt and dragged him into another heated kiss. "Off! Just take that shirt off," he demanded between kisses.

As he stripped off of his shirt, Eskel noticed how Jaskier's eyes glistened and how he licked his lips lusciously, before launching himself at Eskel. He peppered his face, neck and chest with kisses, murmuring "You're beautiful" and "I love you so much" between kisses, making Eskel writhe with pleasure and whine with emotions, because he so wanted Jaskier to mean it.

"Can I take you to the bedroom?" Jaskier asked while tugging at the waistband of Eskel's slacks. "God, why is the belt so complicated?" He threw his hands up losing his balance and landing on the floor. Eskel reached out to help him up, only to be dragged down to the floor right next to Jaskier.

"Okay, bedroom it is," he laughed into Jaskier's mouth, who already managed to slot their lips in another heated kiss.

****

Eskel woke up with his head feeling very heavy, his mouth dry as if he'd eaten sand. He sat up, rubbing at his eyes, taking in the situation. He was naked, with only the bedsheets tangled around his legs. Jaskier was sleeping next to him, lying on his stomach, one hand draped comfortably around Eskel's waist. He was equally naked, his perky ass sticking out from under the covers.

Eskel watched him mesmerized, noticed how beautifully lean and supple Jaskier's body was, he watched how he moved slightly with every breath... And then tiny bits of memories of last night hit him like a wave. He remembered the passionate kisses Jaskier showered him with, how unbelievably soft and pliant Jaskier's body was under his touch, he recalled the weight of Jaskier's cock on his tongue and how wonderfully he moaned Eskel's name with his hand tangled in Eskel's hair...

One part of him wanted to leave before Jaskier would wake up, spare him the awkwardness of a morning after. They never planned on something like that, after all they were boss and employee, they just let alcohol get the best of them. The other part of Eskel wanted to stay, to savour the moment of absolute intimacy and vulnerability between them. That other part wanted all this drunken mishap to turn into something more than just a one night stand.

Then Jaskier stirred next to him, waking up, pulled himself closer to Eskel's chest and murmured a soft "Good morning." He sat up, dragging one hand through his disheveled hair, taking in the sight of their naked bodies. "So... I guess last night ended up better than expected?" He shot Eskel an embarrassed smile. "Did we... You know. Go all the way?"

"I honestly don't know," Eskel admitted sheepishly, pulling the bedsheets up to cover the both of them. "Are you okay, Jaskier? You didn't go easy on the bourbon last night."

"I'm fine," Jaskier waved him off, but his eyes narrowed and he worried his lower lip and Eskel knew he was trying to recall what happened last night. "I hope I didn't take advantage of you?"

"Everything I did, I did because I wanted to," Eskel said firmly, though he felt the hotness on his cheeks and ears at the memory of their naked bodies tangled together and Jaskier moaning so sweetly into his ear.

"Yeah?" Jaskier scooted even closer to him under the bedsheets. "Care to remind me what did you actually do?"

Eskel exhaled deeply, feeling Jaskier's hot breath on his neck, making his own skin feel too tight. The memory of Jaskier's body arched beautifully under Eskel's touch flashed before his eyes, and he cleared his throat. "I'm... I'm pretty sure I sucked you off."

"Oh." Jaskier's face was painted with astonishment, but only for a moment. In the next he was already straddling Eskel's lap, braiding his fingers in his dark hair, looking him deep in the eye. "I think it's only fair if I return the favour now?"

Before Jaskier moved down on him, Eskel grabbed his hands and made Jaskier face him. "Listen..." he started, mouth extremely dry, more of nervousness than hangover. "You said some very weighty things to me yesterday, that I really wished were true... But I know this could be just the alcohol's doing." He huffed, pressing his eyes shut. "If it's not what you meant, or how you feel about me, I'd rather leave now."

Jaskier sighed, deeply, but he didn't lower his gaze. He intertwined their fingers and placed a kiss on the top of Eskel's palm. "I remember one thing vividly from last night," he said. "And that is feeling loved and wanting to give as much love as possible back." He kissed the fingers on Eskel's hand. "If you felt the same, I'd rather you stayed. Forever, if possible?"

------

@witcher-rarepair-summer-bingo

[pinkhairedlily]

[Open Your Mouth] Chapter 3 - O

See previous chapters here: AO3 | Tumblr

Summary: She downs her mimosa in one long drink and snaps her fingers. The television shuts blank, and she sashays her way to a room. It looks just like any other wall partition but it opens to an expansive study. It has a day bed on the side, a long table, and her most comfortable swivel chair. Metallic chairs are folded on the side for her clients.Taking up the rest of the space are shelves filled with her favorite books. In the middle, sandwiched by volumes of Crime and Punishment and Les Miserables are jars of teeth submerged in liquid, white, sparkly, well-maintained. On the other end of the wall is a chest box which also functions like a wide ottoman. Except that it isn’t. It’s a freezer for the meat she has yet to eat.

-xxxxxxx-

March 7, 2021, 12:03 PM

“Open your mouth please.” Her bright emerald irises pop out from her mask as she probes the inside of his mouth. Sasuke feels the metal tool scrape against his tooth on the lower left. His tongue is on the edge of making a clucking sound, but he winces from a sharp pain when she moves his tooth from front to back.

“It’s loose,” she confirms for him. He recognizes notes of jasmine in her proximity. “I can extract it for you now. You’ll just have to spend the rest of the day under pain killers.”

He dropped by her clinic during his lunch break, intending to take up her offer in the off chance that she accepts walk-ins.

Of course, it was situated on the 25th floor of one of Senju’s high rise buildings which houses their offshoot businesses in the medical field; one floor for every niche – a chiropractor on the tenth, a hair transplant on the 17th, herbal practitioners on the 20th.

Of course, the brunette receptionist with a very sharp eyeliner sent him away, and looked at him pointedly with visible annoyance when he brought up that the dentist offered the appointment herself. People often tell him he’s handsome, and he gets to use this pretty privilege during the conduct of cases sometimes. But people here are immune to his so-called stoic charm.

Of course, it’s probably because there are far richer, far more aristocratic clients than him that would have naturally made a beeline towards the beautiful dentist.

He clucks nonetheless, his tongue grazing against the cold metal. “Can you do it under thirty?”

“Rushing for an appointment?” She gets the syringe from her assistant and taps it on her delicate wrist.

“Vying if I could get ten more minutes for an ice cream.” Her hands are light and quick to inject the anesthesia in the surrounding gums. He hears her soft chuckle against her mask.

“Not the first time that someone did that move.” She hands him his cone with one scoop of mint chocolate.

“I’m not a fan of sweets if you should know,” he says. “Is strong arm strength needed for a dentist?” Two big bites from the top.

Sakura blushes with an intensity, he notes, and in contrast her actions – she shies away her gaze from his stare with her fingers devoid of any jewelry. “You’re as direct as everyone in your lot goes, huh?”

“Is the topic too morbid for you, Dr. Haruno?”

“I’m keeping tabs with the news but I forego the specifics.” She fiddles with her two scoops of double dutch in a small cup. “But to answer your question, you only need to have the right leverage, an accurate position, and a good angle to ease out the naughtiest of teeth. However, it’s really an advantage to have great arm strength. It can get tiring after the twelve noon patient.”

Sasuke finishes his ice cream in the next three bites, feeling nothing in his mouth, the anesthesia still kicking, but he can taste the blood mingle with the freshness of mint, a tinge of rust in the sweetness on his tongue. “You’re not as bothersome as everyone in your lot.”

She raises both of her eyebrows, not sure if she understands his underlying implications.

“Dr. Tsunade Senju and Dan Haruno, top billing general surgeons of the medical world.”

Her mouth opens to form a small and soundless oh. “Ah I’m sure you already snuffed most information about me – it goes that way, right? Ah? Not at all? – So the thing is….I’m not their legitimate daughter. I’m adopted.”

He didn’t have to snuff, these are all open information in the playground of the rich. “A stroke of luck to land on a high end and well managed orphanage.” Her immense wealth does not translate to jewelry, face jobs, and fancy lash lifts. On her breast pocket are three pilot coletos, an apple watch on her wrist, mid-budget choice of clothes, and comfortable white Nike sneakers to be later replaced with a good fit of block heels. When summed up, they barely make a dent out of her daily worth. The rest of the money must have been channeled to her clinic’s state of the art facilities.

“You could say that I struck gold with my circumstances since then.” She spoons out a big chunk of her ice cream.

“But not prior.” The sugar brown cone also disappears in his mouth, all the chewing done by only one side.

“Amnesia. I reportedly had a traumatic head injury when they found me.” Her pink locks drift to the side, her head tilted in expectation of his further prodding.

Sasuke twists the line to another direction, and he captures the quick change of her microexpression from subtle guarding to surprise. “Would it be possible to inject one strong dose of anesthesia to the full mouth and extract all teeth?”

“Enough to knock them unconscious,” she confirms.

And kill them without sound, Sasuke surmises. He stands up and taps his wristwatch. “My ten minutes with you is up. I take it my extraction procedure is free?”

“I’m sure you’ll afford the next one.” She continues to fiddle with her cup as she watches him go.

Sasuke halts in his exiting steps and looks back at Sakura like it’s an afterthought. “If you’d like a payment, a dinner wouldn’t be so bad.” He turns on his heels and doesn’t stop, he can hear a faint laughter behind his back.

-x-

March 10, 2021, 7:16 PM

“Did I keep you waiting?” He slides on the seat across her and takes in her body language as well as their milieu.

They agreed to meet at seven sharp but Kakashi had asked for another briefing from him so he was held back. Her soft expression, in all its exuding naivety, gives nothing away. “This place doesn’t have no reservations, Detective.”

“Just Sasuke,” he remarks. He clucks his tongue in appreciation. “A hole in the wall noodle place. You frequent this area?”

“A reminder that you gave me the green light to choose.” She’s dressed today in an olive sweatshirt tucked into a neat pair of trousers and velvet loafers – a right mix of classy and casual. “It’s my assistant’s go-to. He would always bring me the best-selling set after a grueling work day so I asked for an address.”

“Thanks for the consideration, Dr. Haruno,” he says. Their order arrives minutes after, and she flashes an apologetic smile. For ordering beforehand Frankly speaking, he expected her to bring him into a Michelin restaurant – one to boost her reputation and second to blanket her in safety of familiar breeds. Or maybe safety is much better in company of anonymity.

“Just Sakura.”

They finish two plates of dimsum and almost empty out the small bottle of chili oil, garlic, sesame, and soy sauce concoction. Sipping a glass of soy milk after a bounty feast, Sasuke reviews the facts again in his mind.

“A penny for your thoughts?” Sakura asks, finished with her drink.

“Give me a hundred bucks then.”

“How many coffee orders would those be worth?”

Sasuke smirks in spite of himself. He changes topics again, on to the mundane life of a Senju-Haruno heir.

“How is the case progressing by the way?”

He glances up and notes the curiosity and fear in her eyes. “Classified information.”

She leans, plates with crumbles and half-empty glasses in between, and tilts her head, her rose locks spilling from her back. “Will they come for me?”

An alarm ticks off somewhere in his mind. “What makes you think so?” They’ve only had one body so far with no other indication of a succeeding death.

He sees that she bites the inside of her mouth, and she fiddles again with the cutlery in front of her. “Maybe I’m just overthinking.”

About ten minutes later, he ushers her outside the rather dingy restaurant but when no car arrives to escort her back to her place, he encourages her to place an uber. He could ask her to ride with him but the mere implications are layered, and he’s not ready for that quite yet. She gives him a look when he opens the door to her uber, an unspoken question she is yet to articulate. When he gets nothing within seconds, he waves goodbye.

“Give me a text when you’re home,” he says although he shouldn’t have.

“It has been an interesting night,” she replies. “Detective.”

The car finally drives away, and he remains with the remnants of her jasmine scent.

-x-

March 13, 2021, 5:49 PM, The second body

“You are not going to release that profile,” the wife of Haru Kagoshi says. She also stands as the chief overseas director of Haru Light, Inc. “Are you insinuating that my husband fucked a gay man?”

“Fuck is a callous word. Watch your tone,” the CEO of Mingwa Industries warn. “Are you sure you’re on the right track?”

“With all due respect, Captain Yamato is the best we have in the country in the field of criminal profiling. He knows what he’s doing,” Asuma assures everyone.

“And are your detectives doing the proper work? Are you covering all fields?” the Mingwa COO pointedly looks at Sasuke. “Because as far as performance goes, you’re allowing that killer to cripple our economy by snuffing out the next best minds.”

Kakashi’s eyes roll in sync with Sasuke’s at the cripple our economy.

Yamato stands up and offers a cup of coffee at the recently widowed which she explicitly ignores. “We will not be identifying the gender of the killer, but we need to narrow it down to males. Of course, it’s up to the public how they will presume it is connected to the genital mutilation.”

“Fuck you,” the widow says. “You know we can cut off your institutional funding, right?”

Kakashi has started massaging his forehead, a sign that he is nearing his bullshit tolerance level. “Yes you can, but we have an annual appropriation from the government. And cutting off our resources won’t solve this case any faster.”

“-with your due respect,” Asuma adds, hoping to de-escalate the situation.

The grandfather CEO of Mingwa Industries scoffs. “We’ll just have to launch our individual investigation then. In case you might be intentionally sabotaging the progress of this case, isn’t that right, Uchiha Sasuke?”

The disdain in his voice when Uchiha rolls off his tongue is jarring and pointed. Sasuke smirks in defiance, willing to push these elites further to the edge of self-destruction. Years in a gray cubicle and thousands of meters walked in company to a reviewing mind, he found that money could get you somewhere – just not the finish line. “You’d better keep an eye out on me then.”

“What the fuck was that about?” Asuma sneers at the detective department after the white collars scampered off. “They are strong lobbyists backing powerful politicians. We shouldn’t be picking a fight with them.”

“He started it,” Sasuke points to Kakashi who shrugs.

“Anyway, Yamato and I will prepare to announce the profile to the media, just a vague description, and then we’ll work on a composite sketch based on these assumptions,” Kakashi pats Asuma’s shoulders. “Ease up. I’m sure Sasuke and his team are doing their best.”

“I’m not doubting an Uchiha, but I’m doubting the way your petty behaviors get in the process of investigation. Now get out and do your jobs.” The Chief Police retrieves a half-emptied pack of cigarettes and lights up a stick. “This job is giving me cancer.”

11:13 PM

She sips her third glass of mimosa as her eyes drift to the sound of her television. A big banner of breaking news is placed below with the caption authorities release a profile: a serial killer at hand?

She chuckles, almost spilling the cocktail on her fingers. She drifts closer to the screen and her nails stick on the necks of the silver-haired man and the man who she assumes is the criminal profiler.

“Authorities confirm that Armando Mingwa and Haru Kagoshi have been killed by the same person. Renowned profiler Captain Yamato reveals the breakdown of the suspect – male with a minimum height of 5’7, age from late 20s to early 30s, and frequents the high-end districts. When asked if we have a serial killer at large, the chief detective and the profiler neither confirmed nor deny.”

She downs her mimosa in one long drink and snaps her fingers. The television shuts blank, and she sashays her way to a room. It looks just like any other wall partition but it opens to an expansive study. It has a day bed on the side, a long table, and her most comfortable swivel chair. Metallic chairs are folded on the side for her clients.Taking up the rest of the space are shelves filled with her favorite books. In the middle, sandwiched by volumes of Crime and Punsihment and Les Miserables are jars of teeth submerged in liquid, white, sparkly, well-maintained.

On the other end of the wall is a chest box which also functions like a wide ottoman. Except that it isn’t. It’s a freezer for the meat she has yet to eat.

March 24, 2021, 1:10 PM

“So what was the dentist’s alibi?” Neji asks the sullen detective.

“He had a meditation class for each date – January 29 and February 27 – which runs for five hours. They time it with the moon cycles. I also called his teacher – she prefers to be called witch ­– and confirmed his attendance.” Sasuke clucks his tongue. “However, they are a class of 100. He can easily slip out when everyone else is closing their eyes and saying humbda dumda.”

He glances at the map on the wall, pins already on the dumpsites, and he zeroes in on the address smack in the middle. “And he can dump the body with his nondescript car and go back in again. Did you know he has three cars – a Tesla, Mercedes, and a black pick-up?”

Tenten carries a fresh pot of coffee to the table and stares at their evidence board. “I’m guessing it’s the same truck with the garbage ones – those going through the suburbs?”

Sasuke nods. “He says it’s for farming. He has a land on the rural side of the district.”

Jugo raises a brow. “That ends my snooping in with the golden spoons.”

“Not quite Jugo.” Neji fills himself a cup. “These people socialize in the same circles you know.”

Someone knocks on the open door of the room and raises a box of cake. “Delivery for you, Detective Uchiha.” The staff attempts to enter but Jugo raises a finger to stop her.

“Who’s it from?” Jugo asks. “It might be the killer.”

The staff scratches the back of her head. “I don’t think the killer is a beautiful pink-haired lady with green eyes.”

All heads turn curiously to Sasuke who gets the cake from the staff. “It’s my punishment.”

Tenten’s eyes narrow at the name on the card. Haruno Sakura. “How is it a punishment? She brought you – us – sweets.”

“She knows I hate sweets. Help yourself though.”

“So you’re dating?” Neji says it with disbelief. “How? You’re barely in the office and – oh my god, you’re skipping hours aren’t you!”

Jugo repeats the name over and over. “Fuck. You’re seeing the Haruno Sakura? She’s as recluse as the oddball heirs go, but I’ve only heard good things from her. I heard she’s very skilled with her hands. Experienced it yet, Uchiha?”

Sasuke kicks him in the shin as soon as he’s done talking. “Firsthand. A tooth on the lower left. Now shut up and get back to work.”

-x-

April 12, 2021, 6:17 AM, The third body

The team congregates in the morgue. Another body. Only this time, it was found on a ravine, some parts already devoured by wild animals.

“It’s Fugashi Imamu, current overseas director of Imamu Holdings,” the medical examiner tells them. “Same methods done but there’s more clotting on the crotch area, indicating his genital was mutilated while he was still alive.”

Jugo and Neji both groan inwardly.

“He has an eight-year old.” Tenten crosses her arms in front of her. “A math wizard.”

Sasuke closes his eyes, fending off the initial signs of a migraine. The cases kept piling, and they were nowhere close to a lead. “Can you estimate the date of death?”

“I wouldn’t know just yet with all the rigor mortis and animal attacks. But if we pattern this with the recent killings, and the body was dumped within the last two weeks, the killing must have taken place on the last week of March.”

11:13 AM

March 29, Sasuke thinks about the ME’s latest message. There must be a pattern for the dates of killings. And if there was, they are up against an intelligent killer, a methodical one. He must have a list of targets with a step by step process on how to approach and kill each one. He plans weeks ahead with several contingencies.

“Captain Yamato confirms the ME’s assumption. There really is a pattern,” Tenten tells the team. “Unfortunately, the information already reached the golden spoon team.”

Neji comes in with stacks of folders and notebooks. “Got all his stuff from his secretary. Seems like the bastard slept around or may have been just a bad boss, said she couldn’t be more than happy to live in a world rid of such filthy lolita creep – her words, not mine.”

They go through each page, jotting down relevant information. Sasuke, on the other hand, flips through a small wallet-sized planner. Jotted down on March 26 is veneers with Dr. Akugawa. He seems like the go-to dentist of the big shots. He goes further up the dates and there on March 6 is a name he doesn’t expect. Haruno Sakura.

“It’s true. His daughter had an appointment with me,” Sakura confirms over the phone. “But he also dropped by last year for a tooth extraction dislodged by a punch from his grandfather. Old money can be quite controlling.”

“Ah. Doesn’t he have a family dentist?” He taps his pen on his desk, tens of gears running through his mind.

“Told me his dentist was unavailable for an emergency procedure so he dropped by the one nearest his office.”

Sasuke looks at the time on his watch. “Did you have lunch yet?”

“I have an 11:30. But I can see you in 12.”

He gets there fifteen minutes before, and he flashes his badge to Laura who has grown accustomed to his lunch break visits. Nonetheless, her countenance makes apparent her dislike.

“Your cctv records please,” Sasuke tells her. It isn’t a request, Laura knows, so she leads him to the administrative room on the floor and instructs the staff to show the dates he mentions.

Kiyoko Imamu went there on March 6 with her mother and a helper. They backtrack until they find the date when Fugashi had an appointment. A 30-minute visit and he was quickly out.

“Does Dr. Haruno have other clinics? A private location for a niche clientele?” Sasuke asks.

Laura shakes her head. “Only this one, and she doesn’t accept house calls. She likes to concentrate her work in one place.”

He tells the staff to rewind the records on January 29, February 27, and March 29. Nothing was peculiar about Sakura’s body language, Sasuke notes. He commits all records in his memory and allows himself to be ushered out by Laura. They arrive to Sakura waiting at the receptionist’s desk.

“Did you find what you were looking for?” She asks him with a tilt in her head.

“Just right about now.” He offers an open arm to her which she links with hers. Her face immediately blooms in shades of red.

“We have mussel soup today and grilled mackerel. On the other hand, we also serve bolognese. Or do you have any other location in mind?”

“Your cafeteria’s menu sounds nice.”

They’re interrupted by Sasuke’s phone.

“Where are you?” Kakashi’s voice borders on the edge of frustration.

“Lunch,” Sasuke replies.

“Come back asap. The families had Jugo come in and take Akugawa for questioning.”

[yanderecandystore]

may i please get a small fic about the loveshrooms?

I didn't expect anyone to like the idea, but I'm so glad you did!

I was going to bring a Yan Bakugou into the mix but- I felt like I could end up disappointing you in a way so I'll just leave it as a ambiguous character, what do you think?

Also, love shrooms is actually a really good name lol!

TW/Tags: loss of sanity and mentions of depressive thoughts // fungal contamination and mentions of diseases (and quarantine) // none gender specific (neither the reader or the character mentioned have their gender assigned) // touch starving // victim blaming mentality.

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

In need of help [Yandere!Virus/Fungus x Reader - Short Fanfiction]:

They were laying in their bed, wondering what the hell was happening with their body. It's been a week since they started to feel this way, endless headaches, hot burning skin temperature yet a feeling of always being cold dominated them, as if they were naked in the middle of a blizzard.

One day they started feeling dizzy while they were at work, so their boss has told them to go back home and rest, and they haven't gone back to their jobs in a full week because of some random sickness they got!

That's what they thought back then, they thought that this was all just a little flu that had ruined their days, but no, it turned out to be something completely more different than that.

They have heard about some sort of disease outbreak happening in their town, something that was still fairly new and mysterious to even the highest of doctors and world leaders. It was so sudden, out of nowhere people started to show symptoms of some sort of new illness, something that develops slowly yet quietly.

The contaminated would feel all that they were feeling right now, if not worse, since a lot of contaminated have shown some weird aggressive behavior randomly. Those that were contaminated were told to limit their contact with other people, some were privileged enough to be able to stay in hospitals receiving professional care, but they couldn't do that, they didn't want to believe that they were contaminated by some stupid looking fungus.

They just… Really, really didn't want to see a doctor, even if the symptoms are getting worse and worse, something forced them to keep their mouth shut. They didn't want to go to a hospital, they didn't want any doctors or scientists experimenting on them, they didn't want to be trapped inside that pearly white hell.

They heard rumours about servers experiments being done inside each hospital available, which caused the contaminated to get even more desperate to get out of there.

The thing is, no one knows if the contaminated were the ones who had decided that they didn't want to stay there, or if something else was dictating that decision.

Apparently, the cause of such distress was a little mushroom species that have only been discovered after the first incident happened. An incident where the first contaminated to fully develop the parasite had attacked someone in the streets (well, allegedly attacked, since there is no proof of the guy actually hurting someone, but it doesn't matter now since he was eliminated before he could attack someone). After that the contamination had spread wildly, it was as if the existence of such a dangerous thing had just been announced and out of nowhere, the damn thing had taken a hold of people's lives.

In one second everything was fine, and then in the next they were stuck at home, feeling hopeless. At least they don't have to be the lab rat of some crazy doctor and scientist. Until now, it has been pretty easy to hide the fact they were contaminated, key words being "until now", guess what happened?

"- Fucking- itchy fungus." They yelled as they continued to scratch their itchy arms, there were visible pink and red blotches around them, and on top of that they were now hurting because of how much force they were using on their itchy arms.

They have learned that it takes too many weeks for it to develop marks around the contaminated bodies, and that the mushrooms spread and thrive in cold habitats.

And guess who was the idiot that has come back from hiking in a snowy forest about two weeks ago? Yeah that 's right! This imbecile right here!

"- Ugh, what the hell do you want from me?" It's been three days since they started talking with the fungus growing inside them, since they noticed that indeed, the fucking thing comprehends human communication somehow.

Or maybe they were just insane.

This was basically an everyday routine, the mushroom would get agitated, they would ask it what it wanted, and in a brilliant moment of concentration they would remember exactly what the mushroom wanted.

"- Pizza again? Come on, you're going to make me spend all of my savings on some lackluster pizza?" They said while looking at their colorful arms, they needed to cover them if they wanted to see anyone else soon.

You see, ever since they started to stay inside their house to not spread the contamination, they have been ordering pizza at a very terrible place that sold only the most boring pizza they could have ever eaten. No flavor at a cheap prize!

It seemed like the stupid fungus had taken a liking to the terrible taste of nothingness, so they had decided to obliged with the fungus wishes.

"- Stupid parasite, you're lucky I can't beat you for making me waste so much in daily deliveries." They continued to be grumpy about it as they put some clothes on, normally they love to spend their time alone naked, and apparently the fungus also agreed with the decision. What? It's their apartment, they can be naked if they want.

They took their phone and typed the number to the pizzeria, well, at least they never take too long to deliver their mediocre pizza.

"- Hi, it's Anthony's Pizzeria, how can I help you?" They heard a familiar voice come from the other side of the call.

Oh.

"- What-!" They yelped, almost causing the call to accidentally end right there and then.

It's you, it's your voice! They know it it's, they are sure of it!

"- … Uhn, hey, are you okay-"

"- I'm f-fine, sorry!" They have interrupted your question, they were so caught up about your voice that they forgot to order the pizza.

Oh but your voice! Your voice was so different in the call than in real life, it's so… Interesting! Yeah, that's surely the word they were looking for!

They have called so many times yet this was the first time you were the one to pick up! They guess that because of the contamination and quarantine stuff going on, they were low on staff and you were the one receiving the orders.

After all, you were the only person that worked there that would deliver their pizza every single time. It became such a normal thing that you two even know each other's names!

[Y/N], it's such a beautiful name, it fits the owner. Although they think you're pretty unlucky to have to work at a terrible place and also do deliveries to an unwelcoming neighborhood.

That's the reason why you're the one to always bring their pizza, it's because you're the only worker that they are willing to risk in such a terrible place. Fortunately, their only client around this area is them.

When they were about to finish their order, they asked if you were the one that was going to bring the pizza.

"- Yeah, it is me. You know, low on staff and all, why do you ask?" You ask them with that welcoming voice of yours. A hint of happiness graced your tone, you were happy that it was them ordering again.

Although you still think that their obsession with mediocre pizza is a little concerning, you ended up forming some sort of friendship with them. An odd one for sure, but you're still happy about it.

When you first met them, they would always give you some really scary vibes. They were so, well, cold and closed off. Never smiling, never giving tips, always in a terrible mood, etc.

But recently, they started to treat you with so much respect, even joking about your job with you. The first time you saw them smile, you thought you were seeing a completely different person.

You're still glad you found this new version of them. They look happier and you felt good for them. Maybe they have found their own happiness.

To hear your confirmation was the most exciting thing they could have heard all day! They were sulking in this disgusting room all day, yet hearing that you're coming makes them feel alive!

They can't even hide their excitement, you can hear them being happy and giggly over the idea of you coming over. Even if technically you're only coming there to deliver them their order and all.

When the call ends, they soon are brought back to reality. When they were talking to you, they felt like they were in the best place on Earth, yet when they looked around their apartment they could only observe the clues of a disgusting creature living in this dirty ass place without ever cleaning it, not even once.

It's a depressing sight, yet they have learned to deal with it. It was normal for them to be lazy and an absolute pig, although they are aware that even pigs are a lot cleaner than them.

They should at least take a shower before you come in.

And just as the idea of you being anywhere near them came into their mind, their personality had switched again, from a grumpy depressed loser to… to…

To whatever the hell they are right now!

Seriously, they were feeling like shit all day, yet at the moment the opportunity to see you comes up, they feel like their day it's already 100 times better!

They feel their heart pounding at an incredible passing, the water of the shower hitting their skin helping their temperature to cook down. They don't even feel so cold anymore, they feel- Powerful!

They feel better than the last time they saw you, which was yesterday, so it doesn't even make sense for them to miss your presence the way that they do, but still!

Apparently even the fungus seemed to be happier about this situation, as their arms weren't itchy at all and the headache they were feeling seemed to have stopped.

They thought the thing was only awaiting its meal, as all living creatures do when faced with the opportunity to get food without any efforts put into it.

It was as if the motive to actually fix a little bit of this place had suddenly appeared at the mention of your arrival! It was uncommon for them to do such a thing, even for a guest, and their neighbors can testify.

Not that they would want to be involved in their life either way, their neighbors know how unpleasant they can be, even to those that live near them.

To think your presence has such an impact on them and their life, even though they never experienced anything like this before, their sudden change in mood never really crossed their minds as being bad or unconventional. It just… Happens.

And- It doesn't feel bad at all.

Maybe this lonely loser is finally understanding the importance of healthy social interactions! Good for them?!

After getting out of the shower and putting their clothes back on, they straight up jump out of the bathroom to complete their next task, which was making their apartment seem a little more *pleasant", at least for someone that was looking at it from the other side of their door.

But before they could do much, their apartment bell rang and you called them from the other side of the door. You did something, however, that would soon be proven to be a bad decision.

You have decided to call them by their name instead of the usual "your pizza is here" or whatever the hell you used to scream so the customers could hear. You thought that you had spent enough time with them to be able to use their name in a friendly manner, which was nothing wrong with that, dearest! Is just that-

They haven't been able to hear people say their name in such a friendly way in a long, long time. It's both refreshing and terrifying how they craved that form of attention.

And what is just as terrifying is how fast they throw their body towards the door, like a desperate addicted trying to reach their dose of dopamine. But that comparison it's absurd, right? It has nothing to do with the current situation.

Oh no, wait-

"- [Y-Y/N]!? You came in e-earlier than I thought! How is everything going??" They would welcome you in, but the truth is that they haven't been able to finish all of the cleaning. Basically, they took all of the garbage that was in front of the door's view and put it deeper in their apartment.

Just like sweeping dirt under the rug, you were only able to see a moderately good looking apartment behind them, yet in reality, all of the dirty dishes and clothes that were previously laying around there, were now shoved under some tables in a desperate need to impress you.

Even if a little bit.

Because of how suddenly they opened the door and came into view, you got yourself a little spooked by the taller figure in front of you. They always looked pretty scary in your eyes, yet recently you started to notice that they have a softer side.

You can't help but associate them with big scary dogs, you guess that they only put some sort of facade to keep themselves appearing to be tough and strong and "scary". You can't lie that they got you pretty good the first time you met.

You answer them, telling how hard it has been to work in an awful pizzeria while the world is burning and a weird disease suddenly has been discovered out of nowhere. They tried their best to continue the small talk, yet it seemed like they didn't need to do much because soon enough you were babbling about your life.

They loved it, you were always so talkative, even to a complete stranger. They wanted to pay close attention to you and what you were saying yet they simply couldn't! Your presence was so overbearingly sweet that they thought they would have a heart attack!

I'm being serious though, their heart started to accelerate out of nowhere and a weird feeling started to arise inside their hearts. They felt so weird and uncomfortable because of the sudden sensations yet- It felt so good in a way.

They felt alive for once, they felt- They felt like they were capable of anything!

Yet they still felt like they needed something more than just… This, whatever the hell is giving them such a wonderful feeling. Could it really be you, the cause of such wonderful emotions to bloom?

Your skin looked so soft, your smile was so gentle even when you were focused on giving them their order, you looked like you cared for them so much that when you noticed their odd behavior you put your hand in their shoulder.

This one, simple little contact managed to get a hold of them and their thoughts, their breathing now way faster and frantic than before.

How long have they been without a human touch? They are pretty sure it wasn't long, yet they still feel… Shamefully needy.

They can't tell what's worse, trying to convince you that they were okay, or trying to convince themselves to not do something stupid. They didn't know what it was, but there was a suspicious feeling crawling up their spine, the feeling that if they didn't control themselves something bad could happen.

They lied of course, saying they were just- Dizzy and a little tired, that they were doing everything on auto pilot, and even if you end up believing them, the moment you take your hand away us the moment they regret not giving in to whatever odd urge they were having a couple of seconds ago.

You were soon about to leave, they didn't even notice that they were holding the pizza box and almost let it fall from their loose grip.

"- H-Hey, wait! [Y/N] I-" they sounded absolutely pathetic, they sounded desperate for your attention but at least it seemed like you didn't mind or simply didn't notice their tone of voice.

You were causing so much frustration yet you remained oblivious to their suffering.

"- Do you… Perhaps, want to hangout later? I-If you're not busy, of course…." They sounded like a teenager who just confessed their crush on someone, well, if they were trying in that situation, normally the other person would at least be aware of their feelings.

But no, of course they aren't and of course you only see their offer as a way to call you for a friendly date.

People sweet and naive like you used to get on their nerves, they used to ignore your type of person yet-

Here they are! Being pathetic and stuttering, the only good thing to come out of this interaction was that you accepted their offer.

At least you're kind enough to accept to meet this poor thing again in a more private scenario. Not in your daily "customer and worker" type of interaction.

And as your form goes away at each step you take, the intrusive thoughts start to come in again. Those thoughts, those pains from earlier, everything was starting to get back.

It really does seem like you're the cause for their problems. Their headaches, their low self-esteem thoughts, the stupid fungus itching their skin, all of that was your fault… Somehow.

In someway or another you were the one that would always show up in their dreams, in their intrusive thoughts. They closed the door to their apartment while slowly placing the pizza on their coffee table, since now their mind was starting to come up with the solution to their daily pains.

This is not about pizza, this is about you! About how you consume their mind, even when you aren't present.

Although, every time you're near them, they feel so much better, like all of their issues have gone away.

That 's it! You're not only the source of their problems, but also the solution! Oh, that 's perfect! They know exactly what they need to do to make sure you cure them.

Yeah… YEAH! YES! They won't need to suffer every day waiting for the next time to see you, they can simply have you by their side, right??!

Please, please tell them, please tell this mad person that you'll cure them of the same thing you contaminated them with!!

Please… They feel so, so cold and lonely. Their only company is a parasite who seems to agree with this person's mad, delusional thoughts.

🍭꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍰꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡🍮꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖🍭

[lackingspace]

Incensed (Bo Sinclair x Reader)

Rated: Explicit 

Word Count: 2.5K

Summary: Bo is having a shit morning and you’re not making it any better. When some tourist wander in his irritation spikes exponentially. Why the fuck would you think flirting with one of them would be ok? 

Warnings: Bo being an irate ass, Possible offensive language, Punishment, Degradation, Spanking, Dirty talk

A/N: Ok, not my typical content, but its House of Wax day and I’m thirst af  I love those boys, so I wanted to celebrate. Angry Bo just came out, so that’s what y’all get (╯°□°）╯ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ

AO3 Link: Incensed

You were goddamn doing it again. Bo was so fucking fed up. It’d been a shitty morning of waking up to a blaring hangover. Breakfast had Lester and you chattering like incessant little birds while Vincent's mute ass self was somehow still being too damn loud. 

He’d snapped when you laughed in the high twinkling pitch that usually hit him somewhere uncomfortable in his chest but now split his brain in two. “Jesus Christ, shut the fuck up!” Everyone stopped to stare over at him, even Vincent mid-bite, turned to stare him down. 

You had a disgusted and offended look on your face that almost made him want to feel bad, but he couldn’t, wouldn’t when his head was splitting and only getting worse. You spat at him in annoyance, “What the hell, Bo?” 

He grabbed his coffee cup and grunted, “Can a man drink his fucking coffee in peace? Y’all are being so fucking loud with your bullshit.” You crossed your arms and leaned forward against the table, “No, not when a ‘man’ is gonna be a dick before 9 am.” You’d said, ‘man’, so venomously he felt a tiny spark of pride because that surely was something you’d picked up from him. Regardless, he ignored it because his temper took precedence. White-knuckling his cup he took a sip before hissing at you, “The fuck did you say?” 

Vincent and Lester were both looking at you now. Vinny's gaze concerned, worried, while Lester put a hand on your shoulder saying your name. You looked away from the ass at the counter and back to your friend, “Just don’t, s’not worth it.” You looked at Vincent and he shook his head, so after pursing your lips you sighed out, “Nothing.” 

Bo took another sip as his anger simmered down, “S’what I fuckin thought.” He saw your jaw clench. And that felt fucking good. So when you’d followed him out to his truck after breakfast he was surprised. You walked to his passenger side and let yourself in before he could say anything. Getting in himself he turned to you, “Can I fuckin help you, princess?”

The look you gave him was like a mocking taunt, “Nah, but I could probably help you.” Bo wasn’t in the mood to play games, so he just cranked the engine and shifted gears with an eye roll, “Suit your fuckin self.”

You’d been so fucking annoying too. Following him around, commenting just enough to get under his skin, but not enough to make him want to glue your mouth shut. But God, was he contemplating it...be a waste of your pretty lips though. You’d started questioning him on mechanic things and fuck was it annoying, but they seemed like genuine questions and damn if it didn’t feel nice to have someone admire his skill for once. 

But when some jock ass pricks rolled up asking for some car help, well, the side-eye you’d given him, screamed trouble. The little asshats had thought you were the receptionist, that made Bo laugh as he thought to himself, ‘receptionist my ass’. But you’d been nice and accommodating to the boys. Leaning on the counter showing them some ample cleavage that made Bo ready to say fuck his brother's art and gouge out their eyes himself for looking. 

But you kept it up and he was about ready to strangle someone when you decided it was a good idea to start flirting with one of the fucks. He fucking hated when you got in a mood- you were stubborn as all get out and it never worked out in Bo’s favor when you got like this. He knew he’d been an ass earlier, but any small amount of guilt he’d had quickly evaporated. Not when he could tell you actually fucking thought one of em was cute. It wasn’t just a fake blush you were giving the twink.

Bo groaned in disgust when you laughed at something stupid that’d been said. He caught your gaze and gave you a glowering look that said ‘fuckin cut it out he wasn't in the mood.’ but the smug little smirk you returned said something different. 

His mood darkened quickly when the asshole actually put a hand on you. Fucking touching you wasn’t gonna fly. Not with the morning he’d had. The little prick was on the top of Bo's shit list in an instant with your name right under it. If the little twit moved his hand any lower on your back Bo would have reached over and broke it. Instead, he didn’t and just left it so you’d realize how absolutely fucked you were. 

Wiggling out from under the tourist's arm you giggled an excuse and walked back over to where Bo was. Inside you were sweating because he hadn’t stepped in like you’d thought and that spoke to how pissed he was. How fucked you were. It wasn't like you didn’t know he was mad. And, sure, you’d known what you were doing. Stopping way earlier was probably smarter, but you never claimed to be a genius, so when flirting presented itself, well, it had seemed perfect. 

You’d been annoyed at him this morning, and maybe had wanted some payback. Wanted to annoy him because he’d been such an ass not only this morning but all damn week. It wasn’t fair for Lester and Vinny to constantly have to walk on eggshells when Bo was just fucking ornery.

And ok, you'd admit that you’d pushed a little too far here though. Especially with how possessive Bo was. He’d even get pissed when you tried to drink some of his coffee. So some random guy, not his brother, putting their arm around you was like a death wish. And God, was he standing beside you deathly silent-- it had you fucking sweating for real. It wasn’t the guy you were worried about, he was dead either way, but you'd maybe just fucked yourself royally. Bo's punishments were unpredictable- very good or very bad. You’d consider yourself lucky if he just ignored you or bitched for a few weeks until you were finally privileged enough for a spanking. God, there was something sick in you though because you still wanted it even if he edged you for a month before forgiving you. 

He gave some excuse to the group through clenched teeth that he'd be able to work on their vehicle, but needed to take care of something downstairs first, and that they should go out and find something to do. They'd accepted his answer and left the shop none the wiser. 

You'd never felt his hand grip the back of your neck faster in your life. In a deep growl, “You little bitch.” He tightened his grip, “ You’re fucking coming with me and don't even think about making a fucking peep. If you wanna be a slut I'll show you what sluts get." he kept to a slow walk until the both of you were out of view, then he all but pushed you down the stairs leading to his playroom. 

He didn't even bother opening the door, just pushed you against the wall next to it-- your cheek smashed against it he invaded your space, "Think you're real slick trying to play with that little bitch in front of me?" you whined out an "I'm sorr-" but he cut you off, "What’d I fucking say?” 

You cut your whine instantly, “And see, you're not sorry. You'da stopped when I fucking told you to if you were." He leaned in closer and you could hear the growl- the anger in his voice directly in your ear, "You were too busy bein a filthy fucking attention whore. Good thing you didn’t let him grab that ass otherwise I don't give a fuck how sweet that pussy is, you'd be out too. Vincent can have a hissy fit later." 

Shit, you knew he was pissed, but damn this was pissed. You tried to actually apologize, "Bo, I'm s-" But his hand came up to lift your face off the wall to grip your cheeks tightly, "Nuh-uh, Don't you fucking Bo me. You're gonna shut the fuck up while I give you something to be sorry for." He pushed against your ass as he leaned over to open the door and God, he was half hard already.

Dragging your through, he made it to the edge of the bed “You're gonna sit that little ass over my lap and I'm gonna make it so Vinny’s gonna have to fucking ice it for a week." You groaned because fuck, you knew this was supposed to be a punishment and it was definitely going to hurt, but damned if you didn't need it. Him being actually pissed was hot as hell and even if you couldn’t sit for a week you really couldn’t find it in you to be mad about that. The man didn't know the power he had over you when he was pushing you around like this.  

He sat on the edge of the bed and pulled you roughly over his lap. His hand on the back of your neck slid up to grip a tight fist of your hair pushing your face into the mattress. His other ripped off your skirt and panties all in one go, "You’re gonna fuckin count them you cunt and thank me for each one." You tried to nod but the fist didn't allow any movement so you let out a muffled, "Ok, yes sir." His fist tightened in preparation as your breath hitched and delivered the first rough smack to your bare ass. Your muscles tightened at the sting, "One, Thank you, sir!" he grunted and gave another just as rough-- you winced and jolted up, "Two! Thank you, sir!" 

On it went until you were sobbing in his lap from the pain and how much your clit ached. “Twenty! Thank you, sir!” He hadn't gone easy, wasn’t about that. Not even a little. Taking all his aggression out on your ass and you really couldn't say you were mad about it. Sure it hurt and would probably leave some bruising, but damn it really was a good hurt. 

Even when he soothingly ran a hand over the area your ass stung, "Don't give me that crying, I can tell from your sloppy pussy how much you liked this." he slid a finger through your drenched folds, "It's like Niagara falls down here. You're a little slut for this, aren't ya?" You shook your head in denial, not wanting to give him that if he was gonna be an ass about it. He slid a finger back through your folds and your hips lifted off he lap in want, "Look at that. Can't even fucking help yourself."

A swift smack shocked your system back into pain, "Don't fuckin try to take what I'm not giving, whore." You rubbed your face into the mattress trying to get yourself under control as you squeezed your thighs together. With a deep breath, “I'm sorry, sir” He laughed, "You’re really fuckin not. But I'll let it slide because I'm feelin generous.” He slid a finger into your pussy and you instantly clenched around it, but tried to stay as still as possible, “This just want you wanted, huh? My fingers in this whore cunt of yours? Think I deserve a fuckin apology after all your shit today.” 

You could tell he was calmer now, but that meant dangerous. Too bad dangerous also meant sexy. And you’d give this asshole whatever he wanted as long as he’d keep sliding his fingers in and out of you, “I'm waiting, Princess.” and he slipped a second finger in scissoring them, you groaned, "I'm sorry! Ok, Bo?! I'm so fucking sorry! I shouldn't have! I knew what I was doing and that you weren't in a good mood, but I did it anyways. God, I'm sorry Daddy, please don't be mad!" you were shaking in his lap and fuck, wait...oh fuck you'd never let that slip before. Shit, you felt yourself tense up just as his cock twitched under you. Fist still in your hair pulled your face up, "What was that?!" You stayed silent and he gave a hard jerk, winching in pain, "I'm sorry....Daddy" he groaned, "Too fucking right, baby girl."

He’d started his fingers back up, roughly pushing them in and out of you, “Bein a bad girl pushing Daddy’s buttons like that. But you did so good taking that spanking.” with a twist of his hand you felt him brush up against that spongy area inside that had your hips jerk up into his hand and sobbing out a moan, “Daddy’s gonna be real sweet to you and fuck this cunt open.” you moaned again at the idea. He was so hard against you and damn did you want it inside you more than anything. You didn’t have to wait long because after another twist of his wrist he pulled his fingers out, swiped them through your folds, and gave a circle to your clit before pulling away completely. You whined, but felt him move the two of you, “Keep that fucking face in the mattress and ass up.”

Pulling your legs underneath to prop yourself up in the position he wanted, “That's right, baby. Now spread yourself open for me. Show me that pussy.” Your face burned, god he could be so nasty, but you loved it and did as he asked. Reaching both hands back to spread yourself open for him. 

You heard him shuffling before you felt a hand settle on your lower back. “Look at that red ass and wet little hole.” He smoothed a hand down a cheek before he gave it a much lighter smack. You groaned and felt yourself pulse around nothing, “Look at that slutty pussy clench.” He ran a finger from the start of your ass down through your folds, coming to a stop at your clit and gave a few circles to it. 

“Don't worry, sunshine, Daddy’s got somethin to fill it up with.” His hand moved away and then you felt the length of him slide up through your folds. You couldn’t stop the moan that fell from your lips as he smacked it against your pussy a few times, “Feel that? I’m gonna stretch you open real good, darlin’.” Sliding his cock back down to press the tip against your clit he brushed it back up to rest at your opening, “You gonna be a good girl and take it like a whore for me?” 

Drool had steadily been falling from your lips but you couldn’t find it in you to care. Your hair was a mess and face felt on fire, but the only thing your existence came down to at that moment was the way his cock was just breaching into you- just teasingly stretching you. Slowly his words filtered through your brain to which you rapidly nodded and whined out a “Please!” 

He slid in slowly before the last syllable left your mouth. 

[dear-alex-chill]

SHADOW WAR EPILOGUE

There was a loud buzzing and ringing in his ears. Someone was talking but he couldn't hear, he felt like he was underwater. That's when he felt the pain kick in. It felt like someone had dragged him by his shoulders through all of Duckburg and back to the bin before throwing him and leaving him. Gyro groaned before turning his head to the side and feeling a mix of water and spit fall out of his mouth. He was pretty sure he tasted something like iron but he wasn't going to think of that. He coughed up more water still unable to move. Eventually he was able to breathe on his own as he layed there still not opening his eyes. He could tell it wasn't light out so he simply layed there unmoving. Gyro secretly hoped that he'd fall back into unconsciousness soon so he could fast forward the pain. His wish came true as he embraced the sweet numbness.

--5 Minutes Prior with Fenton----

They had done it! They had defeated Magica and he got his suit back. Everyone was swimming in the money ((or at least trying to)) except for Scrooge who was staring out. Fenton walked over, wondering if Scrooge too had seen a weird shadow ball covered in purple magic fall out of the sky during the battle. Fenton had just showed up when it happened, he assumed it was debris, but one could never tell.

"Penny for your thoughts?" He offered to Scrooge

Scrooge stared ahead, his eyes scanning the water. "Where'd he go?" He muttered

"Um, who exactly?" He asked. Was someone lost or hurt? Did someone get carried off by the shadows? Did magica still have power? Was there another threa-

"Gyro."

Fentons heart stopped as a sinking feeling quickly replaced the victorious buzz he had been feeling. "W-what?"

"He was flung into the ocean during battle. I didn't get the chance to see him resurface." Scrooge stated looking at the water.

Fenton felt his heart quicken. "Was he uh, was he surrounded by shadows and purple light?" He asked nervously

"Yes. Magica wanted to sacrafice him but that old coon couldn't tell if I was lying by saying he was a work aquaintence" Scrooge chuckled a little.

"..oh.." Fenton murmured

"I'm sure he's fine. Gyro's a lot tougher than he looks, and for what we give him credit for" he added before turning back to his family.

"Thanks for the help lad." Scrooge said walking away leaving Fenton alone with his worries.

Gyro had been the one in that blast. Fenton just assumed no one could survive it so it must've been debris. His heart rate sped up even more as he nervously walked to the edge of the bin staring at the water. Fenton shook his head, deciding to go down to the beach/shore instead. He'd probably get a better view from there.

---

Fenton walked along the shore looking at the water out ahead of him hoping to see a sign of anything. A rubber life jacket floated past that looked like it could fit one of the kids but nothing else was out there. Fenton kept walking as the light faded. Maybe Gyro had made it to the opposite shore? Maybe Gyro went back into the bin and was down in the lab? Maybe Gyro was safe at home treating his wounds? Fenton hoped it was the last option but his gut said different. He kept walking, staring at the great expanse of water before he heard something. It sounded like a labored groan from another creature. Fenton turned his head curiously before he spotted a familiar shade of yellow amongst the sand. He ran over to it, picking up Gyro's hat that was laying on the ground. He held it close to his chest; It still smelled like Gyro. It also smelt like seawater, fish, and dirt but that didn't matter to Fenton. Fenton inhaled the scent his heart beating more as he felt calm for a moment. Naturally his anxiety returned and heightened but he had a new sense of determination. If Gyro's hat had made it back then so would Gyro, he couldn't be too far. Another groan this time quieter suprised Fenton as he looked around, spotting a hand upturned towards the sky. Fenton ran over still holding the hat, he slowed down as he got to the person.

It was Gyro.

Gyro was there lying in the sand, one arm up by his head the other one limp at his side, his body partially turned on the side. His hair was messy, soaked, and dirty. His feathers were coated in sand and Fenton was sure that Gyro would not want to wear that outfit again. Fenton looked at Gyros face, crouching down and brushing the hair out of his eyes. Gyro was peaceful almost, obviously ignoring the small amount of blood on his beak and the obviously horrid condition he was in. Gyro's face was relaxed, the bags under his eyes lessened and he wasn't scowling or frowning. Fenton felt tears come to his eyes as he smiled seeing Gyro in one piece. That smile quickly faded when he realized Gyro was breathing very shallowly, his chest rising and falling only once every 15 seconds. Fenton knew Gyro needed medical attention ASAP but he wouldn't be able to carry him himself and yelling wouldn't do that much good. Fenton stepped back a solid 3 feet before yelling out,

"Blathering Blatherskite!" As the armour came flying towards him.

'this should do it' he thought looking at the Gizmosuit armour on him before he rolled over and scooped up Gyro, carrying the man bridle style and grabbing Gyro's hat. Gyro's body was limp in his gizmo-arms, his head lolled to the side. Fenton looked at him sadly praying to God he would be ok. Fenton rolled back to the bin to be greeted by everyone, as Fenton held up Gyro, Scrooge's face hardened demanding Fenton take him to the hospital and Launchpad to start the car. Donald and Beakly took the kids inside promising them a sleepover in the bin and vending machine snacks.

--3 Days Later with Gyro--

There it was again.

That blasted buzzing/ringing sound.

Gyro let out a growl or a grumble or some sound to express his annoyance before realizing his throat hurt. Gyro cracked open his eyes just a tiny bit to see where he was. It was a room that was both familiar and oddly different. White walls, a small tv shaped blob, some steady beeping sound, muted colors, Fenton at the foot of his bed, sheets, industrial cleaning smell, closed curtains- wait, Fenton at the foot of his bed?! Gyro looked down more, unable to make out the details but able to see a tan blob with a yellow blob and part of a purple blob.

"Wh-hmmm?" He slurred as the blob moved. Gyro now saw two eye shapes as the blob moved more, it looked like Fenton was looking for something he had.

Gyro slowly blinked, trying to squint and see Fenton or anything more than 2 feet away from him really. The blob moved closer before he put something on Gyro's face, Gyro's vision cleared up as he was able to see around him. Sure enough Gyro was in the hospital, wearing a cheap hospital gown, with Fenton there to see whatever condition he was in. Gyro felt a sharp pain in his chest as he winced, Fentons face growing in concern.

"Sir are you ok?"

"I'm just fine" Gyro replied through clenched teeth

"You can't expect me to believe that statement" Fenton replied

"I can hope" Gyro responded feeling the pain subside to a dull throb.

"Well you should rest. You're not getting released until tommorow anyways. No point in faking your fine"

"But I am fine!" Gyro protested trying to move before feeling his shoulders hurt too and settling to lay back.

Fenton walked over putting his hand on Gyro's.

"I'm glad you're back sir" he said warmly

"T-thanks.." Gyro mumbled looking away

"I'm serious, I'm glad you're alive." Fenton replied

"Well, I'm not exactly. I mean, I'm gonna be in debt for years being in this hospital room! How long was I out anyways?"

"3 days" Fenton replied as Gyro leaned back groaning

"I'm financially fucked." He deadpanned

"I wouldn't say that.." Fenton said

"Well I would. Why do you think me and Manny gave a grade-A medkit in the lab? I'll tell you it's not company policy." Gyro responded, his mood sour.

Fenton looked at the door, "I'm sure you'll be fine. I can try to help if you want?" He suggested

"Oh no. No way. You are not paying a cent. That's final" Gyro said stubbornly

"Neither of you are paying a cent." Another voice said as both of them turned to see who it was. Scrooge walked in the room, shutting the door.

Gyro leaned back miserably, 'could this day get worse?' he thought

"Gyro." Scrooge said as Gyro snapped to attention.

"Y-yes?"

"I'm paying for this hospital stay, so you won't have to worry about that." He said with a small smile.

"T-thank you sir!"

"I'd thank your 'assistant' for getting you from the shore if I were you" Scrooge said nodding towards Fenton. "If not for him we would've lost our greatest inventor"

Gyro looked at Fenton suprised, a blush creeping onto his cheeks

"You have the week off while we redo the lab, if there's any additions within reason, send a report to the office for approval. I have a meeting to attend but,"

He walked over to Gyro, putting a hand on his shoulder

"It's good to have you back, son" he said before leaving as Gyro stared in shock

"Wow.. adoptive son of the richest duck in the world" Fenton joked

"S-shut up" Gyro responded

"Nope. And you can't make me" Fenton teased

"I'll take away your Gizmosuit privileges." Gyro replied

Fenton faked a gasp. "How dare you! After saving your life too!"

"Oh please, we both know you wouldn't let me die." He replied

Fenton sighed knowing he lost. "You're right.."

"Of course I am."

Fenton looked up at Gyro before the nurse walked in.

"Visiting ends in 5 minutes" she said before walking out.

Fenton looked at Gyro as they made eye contact, Fenton smiling a little. "See you tommorow?" He asked

"Sure." Gyro responded

Fenton walked over to Gyro before giving him a mouth boop on the forehead and leaving Gyro a blushing mess.

Gyro layed back in bed staring gay ahead. Gyro thought about that kiss for the rest of the night.

[ricaffeine]

You’re Much More Handsome

Summary: He shuts his eyes and tries to think about other things—anything other than her head near his dick. A filthy continuation of the scene in Episode Eight where Munyeong lays on Kangtae’s lap.

a/n: (picture credits to the owner) i had a wild imagination with this scene when i first saw it so i hope i served it justice 😏😈 i personally love flustered KT he's adorable hehe. i'm still an amateur in writing smut so let me know what you think! which part is ur favorite??? i’d love to hear ur thoughts! 💗🔥

Her sweltering breath tickles the nape of his neck, like a cackling fire against his skin. Kangtae drowns in the delicious shiver, goosebumps stretch across his body—in a sense that pulls him into sweet bliss. His body tingles from the sensation, aching for it to last. 

A gush of air is then blown into his ear, like a loud alarm blaring his senses, in contrast to the previous warm stir, as if telling him the privilege has ended. He almost jumps in his seat, stuttering with his words.

“A-ah, w-what are you doing?!” He frantically hisses, brushing her away and to his surprise she concedes, crawling back to her approaching pose. She’s staring at him with eagle eyes, hands planted on the red plush cushion, her back is excessively arched as she tormentingly poses her enticing chest. The sight itself makes him want to groan out loud.

Stop it, Kangtae

Munyeong smirks at his predictable reflex—like a frightened cat scrambling for sanity. 

“Your face is red.”

In an instant he flusters at her remark, his wobbly hands almost lose hold of the ragged doll but he catches it with his inhuman speed—almost pricking his finger with the sharp needle. He exasperatedly counters. “What? I’m not—”

Before he can even finish his defence, Munyeong promptly drops onto his lap and instantaneously his mind short circuits. Her head comfortably lays on his groin, and Kangtae feels like all his blood has rushed down south. 

“I’m sleepy.” He hears her say, and air catches in his throat. What does she mean?

He sputters out an automatic response, driving his focus to the wrecked doll. “Go upstairs and sleep.”

Munyeong mumbles, shifting her weight backward to his burgeoning region and he chokes back a moan. Her hand trails up onto his clothed leg, fingernails scratching slightly on the green fabric, hindering his breath once more. “I don’t want to. You’re here.”

You’re here. The words warm his chest and unforgivingly, his lower region as his mind dives into a lucid imagination.

Her soft lips, wet tongue, warm silken skin. 

It’s a hard slap on his thigh that snaps him out of his trance and Kangtae springs like a deer caught in headlights.

“Relax, won’t you?”

Munyeong grumbles as she snuggles into a comfier position. He plans to protest, but knowing that his futile attempt would get him nowhere with her wayward behavior, he surrenders, trying to loosen up the tense muscle as she demanded. Though it refuses to as their intimacy terrifies him. 

Letting out heavy breath, he sets Mangtae aside on the couch arm, planning to fix it later once she’s asleep and he leans on his back. He shuts his eyes and tries to think about other things—anything other than her head near his dick.

Tomorrow’s breakfast, Sangtae’s art supplies that he needs to buy, and the grocery list.

Soon enough exhaustion anchors his body, pulling at his limbs and Kangtae hangs his head back, welcoming it.

Munyeong smiles to herself as she rests on his lap, taking a mental note of the thickness of his thighs, planning to put them to good use one day. His outbreak this afternoon has proven his desire clearer than ever and the reminisce of his jealousy pleases her more than it should. She had gotten a call from Sangin late afternoon, a short while after he angrily stomped away, asking her what on earth she had done to make the composed man lash out at him.

He’s just jealous, she laughed enthusiastically before ending their call despite the wails from the other line. Little did he know he jealousy was riled up over something that was not even alive.

Carefully, she pushes herself off his lap and crawls up his sturdy chest, surprised as she’s met by his unconscious state. Silence fills the study room and Munyeong admires his handsome face. Granted asleep, his features strain tense, brows furrowing and his lips sealed tight—as if he’s scared she’s going to swallow him whole. 

She might as well do it.

Leisurely, she grasps his shoulder for support, hoisting up a little and she presses a firm kiss onto the column of his neck. It’s soft and teasing, and a sly smile curves onto her pink lips as she watches him shudder beneath her. Enjoying his subconscious reaction, Munyeong leans in to trail more on the warm expanse, the fragrance of his soap whiffing into her nose. 

She hums in amusement, warm lips dragging along his velvety skin. In between the state of slumber and awareness, Kangtae tiredly stirs, relishing the tingling sensation before he’s jerked back to reality as he feels something lick behind his ear, sparing hot fire across his body. His eyes snap open, the image of her repletes his sight.

“Munyeong.” Bewildered, he grips both of her shoulders, heat searing through his awakened body and he stares unbelievably at her. 

His growl is enough to catch her focus and she looks up at him, bewitching face painted with deceit innocence.

“I mean,” Munyeong rasped, tracing a finger along his sharp jawline. “You seemed so tense earlier, I thought I'd ease you up.”

Kangtae lets out a quivering breath, puzzled at her sly excuse. By trying to kill him? 

“Also, your dick was sticking into my head," she adds shamelessly and he blushes into a deep shade of red. 

“I-I think I should g-go.” Utterly embarrassed by his arousal, Kangtae attempts to stand up, wobbly legs ready to run back to his room but she pushes him back down, tumbling on top of him. Her warmth radiates around him and he feels like he’s suffocating in sweet disaster, his body lusting for more but his every cell of his brain tells him it’s wrong.

Before he can say anything, Munyeong steals his lips into a fierce kiss and Kangtae feels like he might just stop breathing. 

She doesn’t spare him at all, soft lips persistently moving against his, licking the seams as she demands for his tongue. He protests to cave in, terrified that he’d become more lost in his lust, obliged to push her away but his mind blanks white as soon as her hand slides down to palm his stiff cock—a loud groan falls apart from him and she uses the advantage to dive into his open mouth. 

Her wet tongue licks into his mouth, leaving no corner untouched and Kangtae groans shamefully, completely lost in the new sensation as her hand works on his erection. After a few moments, he feels her pull away and Kangtae, who doesn't remember shutting his eyes, opens them, and sees her angling for his neck. Sucking on a spot that makes his limbs go weak and Munyeong takes another mental note, nipping and grazing until she's pleased with the blushing mark.

“Let me.” Lacing her fingers with the waistband of his pants, she gives him a look, falling down to her knees. Telling him she wasn’t going to stop there and he doesn’t protest when she tugs both of the clothing halfway down. A small gasp leaves her lips as her eyes prey on his rock hard cock—as if it was the best thing she has seen in her life. 

Slowly, she wraps her small hand around his thick shaft, it twitches in her grasp, pulling out a weak moan from him and Munyeong flashes him a smirk.

“See? You're much more handsome.”

He fumes into a deep blush, shy but glinted with pride, tearing away from their stare. In a painfully slow move, her thumb massages at his head, smearing the juices that are already leaking from the angry tip and his answering groan encourages her.

“Do you want me to stop?” With blurry vision he looks down at her. She’s kneeling in front of him, her tempting mouth perfectly aligned with his pulsing cock and she meets him with a sly gaze. 

Kangtae feels like he might pass out. The world around him seemed to be spinning from her whirlwind of seduction and he could scarcely choke out a word, barely managed to shake his head no.

She’s only teasing him—a playful trial to his self control before she eagerly takes his rock hard tip into her plush lips, sucking lightly and his taste bursts onto her tongue. Kangtae seals his eyes shut, her sensual touch hindering his breathing pace as his hips involuntary buck into her face, surprising her. 

Munyeong hums at his wild reaction before she takes all of him into her warm mouth, going as far as she can take as her tongue flattens against the underside of his veiny shaft.

Kangtae shudders in pleasure, shoving his dick into her mouth like his whole body is on fire. She lets him for a moment before releasing his dick, spit dripping down her chin and she wipes it away. As much as she’s loving his wild reflex, she wants to do it herself.

"Stay still for me, mhm?"

He looks at her with hooded eyes, barely getting out an answer and he feels her soft hand reach for his. His heart swells at the gesture, fingers locked with hers and Kangtae lets her take the lead.

Her determination unveils as she takes him back in her pretty mouth. Alternating between sucking and licking, curling her tongue and her hand strokes the part that can’t fit her mouth. Her eyes never leave him, captivated by the sight—he's collapsed back, body writhing under her hold as he refrains his hips from moving. Incoherent profanities spill from his tight lips. 

"Fuck Munyeong!"

His loud groans sound into the spacious room as she curls her tongue, unable to control himself as Kangtae sloppily jerks into her wet mouth and arousal seeps through her panties. He had really lost control. Munyeong opens wider, aroused by the beastly side of him and she encourages him to use her, softly moaning to herself.

"Fuck fuck I'm-"

His orgasm ripples through him like an earthquake, unexpected and violent as he spasms in his seat. Kangtae dozes off to a sweet ecstasy, pretty moans spilling from his lips, his hand clutching onto hers like his life depends on it. Munyeong emboldens him with a promising grip, hot fluid spurting into her mouth and her lips milk every last drop.

Getting off her knees, she climbs back on to his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck. A coy smile plays on her glistening lips as she gazes at his scorching face.

“Did you like it?”

Kangtae gapes at her, pupils blown out as he breathes hard from her endearment. All he can do is muster a shy nod and her smile grows wider, meeting him in a deep kiss.

His strong arms circle around her small waist, pulling her closer and her weight crashes onto his lap, long legs gripping his sides as she grinds her heat onto his bare cock. Her arousal almost drips through the thin material of her panties, rocking her hips into his as she moans into his mouth. the sound tattooed in his memory.

This time he doesn't refrain himself, greedily lapping at her mouth, lingering with the taste of his own release and if possible Kangtae blushes more furiously. No one has ever done that for him, and although the power was in her hands, she had held him with tenderness more than he could ever imagine.

He drowns himself in her paradise, licking relentlessly at her cavern until their exerted lungs burn for air. 

Munyeong pulls back, inhaling sharply and he can see adrenaline gushing behind her eyes. Her hips don't stay still, rubbing the head of his cock against her pulsating clit.

“I want you. All of you.” She whispers, lust dripped in her words and there’s a pause of sentiment. She stalls, dreading for his response. 

“Can you give it to me?”

His breath is caught in his throat as he stares at her, distracted in the delicious touch of their bodies and he chokes out a pleading answer.

“Yes.”

Sighing, Munyeong lifts herself up, scrunching the lower fabric of her dress around her waist, discarding her panties. His jaws are slack as he watches her lower herself, brushing her damp folds with the head of his cock.

Without a warning she takes his breath away, sinking onto his hard cock as her tight walls desperately cling around him. Munyeong moans in relief. She had been longing for this, for weeks she had solely relied on her own fingers to sate her hungry desire, exclusively sparked by him, and their reality reminds her that her dreams could never compare to this.

Kangtae grips at her hips, doing everything he can from thrusting into her like a mad man but he feels like it’s getting more difficult by the second. 

They rock languidly into each other,hips rolling in a luscious rhythm that sends both of them into a spiral of bliss. Munyeong whimpers helplessly, rolling and grinding onto his cock. He fills her perfectly, greater than any man has ever had. His hands are everywhere, her breasts, hips, and neck, begging for more. 

Munyeong places her hands onto his broad chest, beginning to ride him, tight walls clenching around air before she slams back down to him, hissing at the unbelievable pleasure. Their moans resound into the room, filled with the sound of their skin smacking and Kangtae’s eyes are strained at the obscene view. His cock disappearing into her hot pussy before reappearing once more in the filthiest rhythm. 

She whines his name, spewing curses into his ear and his hips instinctively smack up to meet hers. 

For a split second, his mind revisits the man from today’s afternoon, enraged at that bastard’s audacity to even touch her and Kangtae holds her even tighter in his arms, closing the gap between their chests and he can feel her taut nipples peek through the cotton of their clothes. Munyeong falls weak in his embrace, threading her hands in his dark locks of hair, shifting her weight back and his thrust bumps into a strange spot. Her body tingles in the new sensation.

“Oh my— Kangtae!”

She cries in pleasure, nails clawing into his back as she buries her head into his neck, panting. Kangtae notes her strange surprise and begins to ram repeatedly at the same spot. Her screams are drowned by his hungry lips, toes vitally curling and she trembles from the attention on the newly discovered spot.

“More more more!”

His thumb brushes past her wet folds, eventually finding her clit and he rubs fervidly, mimicking what he has seen on the internet. His lips find its way to her elegant neck, sucking until it leaves a prominent bruise. Munyeong trembles above him, body scorching from the feverous pleasure and she shatters completely. 

His name cries on her lips like a prayer, her walls squeezing tight around him and he breaks apart shortly. Thick searing streams of cum shooting into her and he grunts her name in the sweetest song.

Breathlessly, she mewls next to his ear, her chin resting on his broad shoulder. After a moment when their breaths falter back to normal, she pulls out of him with slack limbs, missing for his warmth. 

Settling herself on his thighs, Munyeong gazes at him with a devilish grin. 

“I pulled your safety pin.” 

The room stills with quietness and she cups his tender face in her hand, eyes glimmering with triumph as she playfully asks. “Do I get a certificate?”

Resulting to her words, his parched mouth falls open, not knowing what to say and Kangtae stares at her. 

He really had removed his pin. 

Munyeong watches as thoughts scatter behind his dark orbs, splashing colors and pulling him into reality before he emits with laughter. She feels his hand slowly creep up her back, tugging at the zip of her fragile dress and his strong arms draw her back onto him. Their chests collide and he brings a finger to graze her puffy lips.

“You got me. Why would you care about that?”

[kelyon]

Golden Rings 22: An Offer

The Storybrooke sequel to Golden Cuffs

Lacey has a meeting with Mayor Mills

Read on AO3

Content warning for verbal abuse and sexual fear

The clacking of Lacey’s heels against the sidewalk was music to her ears. She felt right, dressed like a whore and parading herself down Main Street. After her conversation with Mayor Mills, the stupid voice in the back of her head was quiet. Finally, things were back to normal. 

Now it didn’t matter that Mr. Gold had been acting like a stranger since October. It didn’t matter that he didn’t want her, that he was fucking somebody else. She didn’t need him. She didn’t have to be “Mrs. Gold” in order to get what she wanted out of life. All that bastard did was pay her. He didn’t own her. He’d given up that privilege months ago. She didn’t have to belong to him. There were lots of other people out there. Mayor Mills wanted to help her. Mayor Mills wanted her.

At least, she was pretty sure she did. It was hard to tell. Lacey had never had a woman look at her the way Mayor Mills did sometimes. It was a sharp, laser-focused look. A look that cut her to the bone and then began to saw into her marrow. Like everything Lacey was, everything she had ever been or had ever dreamed of being, was laid bare for Mayor Mills’ approval. 

Mr. Gold used to look at her like that.

Lacey dug her nails into her palms. Or maybe she was an idiot. Maybe she had been imagining the little signs. Maybe the mayor of Storybrooke would try to help anybody she came across in town, offer them rides in her sporty black Mercedes-Benz. Maybe she would arrange an after-hours meeting with any married woman who called her up. Maybe it was a public service.

Or maybe not.  

She remembered this feeling, this knowing-but-not-knowing. The anticipation. The unanswered questions. The tension gave her a thrill. A thrill she hadn’t felt in a long time. 

Maybe that was why it was so easy to lie when she walked into the pawn shop.

Mr. Gold looked up from his inventory book when he heard her. His eyes were cautious. Afraid? Was this sad little coward really afraid of her? Maybe that was why it was so easy to grin at him, to reassure him with bright eyes and a lilting voice. 

“I wasn’t sure what you were doing for lunch,” she chirped. “Want me to pick up something from Granny’s?”

The corners of his mouth lifted up. It was almost a smile. “No thank you, Mrs. Gold. I brought leftovers from home today.”

She nodded, and tapped her fingers against the counter in front of him. How many times had he fucked her against these display cases? How many times had she dropped to her knees behind the cash register while the shop was still open? He would challenge her to hurry, to suck him off before a customer walked in on them. He told her he would beat her black and blue if she failed.

What kind of things would Mayor Mills want her to do?

“Hey, I’m sorry about this morning,” Lacey lied. “I’ve just been really stupid and emotional lately.”

“You’re not stupid,” Mr. Gold said softly. “I know I haven’t made things easy for you. I’m sorry about that.”

A plastic smile was a wonderful talent. She was used to using it on other people, but now Mr. Gold was as easy to fool as everyone else. 

“It’s not your fault,” she said sweetly, even though she was ready to spit acid in his face. “I just needed some time to myself this morning. But I feel better now. Later today I’m gonna get my hair done. I scheduled an appointment for around five.”

Easy as it was to lie, there was a specific delight in letting him get the wrong idea from entirely factual information. He had taught her how to do that. She would go to Janine’s and get her hair styled. And then she would have her appointment with Mayor Mills at five o’clock on the dot.

And he just nodded, just went along with it. Idiot. “The shop will be closed by the time you’re done. I can pick you up at the salon.”

She wrinkled her nose. Playful, casual. Not a care in the world. “No, I don’t know how long I’ll be, and the weather looks like nothing but blue skies. Besides, you’ll want to start supper. What are we having tonight?”

He began to ramble on about spring onions and fricasseeing, while Lacey counted the hours until her appointment at City Hall.   

****

Officially, the city offices closed at 4 PM, but everybody knew that Mayor Mills stayed as late as she needed to keep the town running.  Everyone admired her devotion, but pitied how often she had to leave her sweet little boy unsupervised. Rumor had it that was why Henry was so troubled, why he kept hanging around shady characters like Sheriff Swan, his birth mother. But his real mother was doing the best anyone could under such circumstances. Henry had appointments with Dr. Hopper several nights a week to keep his moods under control.

Why do you know so much about Regina’s life? Why is that woman the center of the universe in this town? Think about it!

Of course the voice was back. Lacey wasn’t sure if she wanted a stiff drink or a total lobotomy. Whatever would get it to shut up.

City Hall was quiet, that was part of the trouble. The empty hallway echoed so much she could hear her heart beating along with the sound of her footsteps. The voice always started jabbering at her during moments of stillness, moments when she should have been at peace. 

She couldn’t tell if City Hall was serene or creepy. Like most buildings in the rich part of New Town, the design was sleek and modern. The interiors were stark white trimmed in black--plaster walls and gleaming tile floors. Right now, it had the terrible oddness of a place that was supposed to be filled with people, but wasn’t. 

At this late hour, the fluorescent lights were dimmed. During the day the brightness was intimidating, but long evening shadows didn’t inspire confidence either. The doors lining the hall were a fake wood laminate, so dark they were almost black. The only other color came from the occasional piece of corporate art hanging up on the walls. Black and white photos of Storybrooke, all in frames as red as blood.

This is a bad place. You need to leave! 

“Shut up,” she hissed. She would try not to tell Mayor Mills about the voice right away. No need to let the mayor think she was crazy. Besides, if all this went right, Lacey would feel a lot better very soon. 

The door to the mayor’s office was ajar, but Lacey still knocked on the ebony frame.

“Come in,” Mayor Mills’ voice was brusque. For a split-second, fear clenched at Lacey’s stomach. She should listen to the voice in her head and run! Run away from this place that felt like a haunted house, run back home to Mr. Gold or to her father or to Sheriff Swan or anyone but Regina!  

But she didn’t. 

All Lacey did was adjust her purple bustier and walk in.

“Close the door behind you.” Mayor Mills didn’t look up from her paperwork.

Lacey did as she was asked--did as she was told. Her pulse quickened to be obeying orders again. 

Like the rest of City Hall, the mayor’s office was nothing but black and white. The only difference was the clutter of prints and patterns. The wallpaper, the curtains, the upholstery on the conference table chairs--they were all a different print, but they were all monochrome. There was no illusion of serenity here. The room looked designed to disorient.

Even the stone floor was inlaid with black and white. An outline of a circle took up most of the space between the door and the desk. The circle was black, with tapered black flags coming out from the center. It looked like a pinwheel, or a clock, or something a bad guy would use to hypnotize someone in a cartoon. 

Without any other instructions, Lacey decided to stand in the middle of the circle. She waited, at the point where black and white met and disappeared into each other.

Mayor Mills stayed at her desk. After a few more signatures, she set her pen down in a drawer and began to stack the papers neatly into a shiny black file folder. So she was meticulous. Lacey could appreciate that. 

She kept waiting. The mayor didn’t look at her until the desk--a white slab of polished stone set on top of two carved stone pillars--was empty. 

“You were seven minutes early,” she said at last. 

Lacey swallowed and kept her hands at her sides. “Mr. Gold says that punctuality is the virtue of princes, Madame Mayor.”

One perfectly outlined, jet-black eyebrow raised on Mayor Mills’ forehead. “Mrs. Gold, if you’re looking for a prince, I don’t think I can be of any help to you.”

Would it be okay to laugh? Or would Mayor Mills think that was impertinent? Lacey just pressed her lips together and said nothing.

“Do you want to tell me what you are looking for, Mrs. Gold?” 

Now she opened her mouth, but she didn’t have the words to answer.

Rumple. Rumple, help me! Rumple!

“R--r--really, I… I don’t know if I can put it into words, Madame Mayor.”

Mayor Mills gave her a considering look. She stayed at her desk, but leaned back in her black leather office chair. “Sit down.”

Two black and silver chairs sat in front of the desk. Lacey put her purse down in one and perched on the edge of the other. 

“Would you like something to eat?” Standing up, Mayor Mills went to the conference table that took up most of the space on the right-hand side of the room. A large white bowl--ceramic, and shaped so that it looked like a collection of bleached, dead coral--was full of apples. All of them were as red as blood. The mayor took two and held one out to Lacey. “I often find that when I need to think, one of my prize-winning Honeycrisp apples always helps me focus on what’s most important.”

Lacey took the apple and held it in her hands. If she had seen this in a grocery store, she would have sworn that it was a Red Delicious. But of course the mayor would know her own apples. She had grown apples since she was a little girl. The tree that grew these ones was right outside the window behind the desk. 

“Are you going to thank me?” The mayor was quiet, but it was the quiet of a viper about to strike.

“Yes,” Lacey said automatically. “Yes, I’m so sorry, Madame Mayor. Thank you for the apple. And for your time. I--I know you’re busy.”

“I am,” Mayor Mills agreed. Behind her desk, she pulled open a drawer and took out a silver knife. There was a design carved into the handle, Lacey couldn’t tell if it was an apple or a heart. After walking back to the front of the desk and leaning against the edge, the mayor began to cut into her apple. “There’s a lot of trouble brewing right now in Storybrooke. But I’ll make time for you, Mrs. Gold.”

“Why?” Lacey muttered. “I’m just a cheap, trashy slut.”

Grinning, the mayor took a slice of her apple. She chewed, swallowed, licked the juice off her red lips. “Is that what Mr. Gold told you to think of yourself?”

“Yes,” she whispered, looking down at the apple in her lap. She had said the words before to people, said them with a smile, like they were an honor. She had puffed up her own performance like a balloon. Only now she had popped, and there was nothing left of her but tattered shreds of rubber. 

Lacey felt something cold on the bottom of her chin. Mayor Mills held the flat edge of the knife against her skin and lifted her gaze until they were eye to eye. Sitting down, she was looking up at the mayor.  “Is Mr. Gold in charge of you, dear?”

She blinked. “I--He was. But I don’t want him to be anymore.”

“Did something happen?”

“Yes.” Lacey wanted to look down again, but the mayor hadn’t released her yet. “He--he cheated on me. And he’s been keeping secrets from me. And--and he’s just different, I don’t know how to explain it, but I hate it. I hate it, Madame Mayor!”

Mayor Mills took the knife away, and cut herself another slice of apple. She smiled. “He’s not the man you married.” She seemed almost smug to say it. “So now you’re looking for someone who can take his place. Someone who can remind you of why you were put in this world.” 

“Yes!” Absurdly, Lacey felt her eyes begin to well with tears. Those were the words she had been looking for! She had been so right to come here. Mayor Mills knew exactly how to make everything right again! “I--I hope you’re not offended or anything. That I thought of you first when I wanted to find someone who would--would treat me the way I like to be treated.”

“The way you deserve to be treated, you mean.” Her voice was so low, so dark and so dangerous. “You cheap, trashy slut.”

It was like her heart had been ripped out of her chest and she was just perverted enough to love it. Repeating the same words that had just caused her shame, rubbing them in her face. This was exactly the kind of pain she had been looking for. Mayor Mills was brilliant.

She wanted to kiss her boots.

Lacey looked up at the mayor, at the way her crimson dress clung to her curves. Her silhouette was an absolute hourglass, tapering down into legs wrapped in tasteful nylons. So much classier than Lacey’s whorish fishnet stockings. 

Mayor Mills’ eyes were dark and intense. Black, where Mr. Gold’s were brown. Her makeup was dramatic but flawless. Her lips were as red as the apple she was eating, her teeth as white as its flesh.

Lacey had never felt so small before, not in front of another woman. Not in front of anyone but Mr. Gold. She looked down. When she spoke, her voice was a whisper, a breath. “What can I do? In order to deserve you?”

The mayor’s laugh was rich and throaty. It sounded like red wine at a midnight feast. She set down her apple and her silver knife and held Lacey firmly by the jaw with her own silky-smooth hands.

“Let’s make sure we understand one another, Mrs. Gold: You don’t deserve me. You can’t deserve me. Nothing you could ever do would be enough to get you even close to my level. Is that clear?”

“Yes,” Lacey whispered. She couldn’t move. Fear and arousal were too overpowering. “Yes, Madame Mayor.”

“Good.” She took her hand away and went behind her desk. “You know, you’re actually a very lucky girl. Until quite recently, I was content with the submissive I had. But then he… disappointed me, and we had to part ways.”

You killed that poor man, you vile--

“So!” Lacey said, too loudly. “Are we agreed then? Will you take me on as a ‘submissive’?”

Mayor Mills looked at her from her office chair. Her gaze was steady and unblinking. “Do you think you can submit to me? Even though I’m not your husband?”

“Yes,” she said. “At least, I’d like to try.”

“Have you ever served a woman before, dear?” She didn’t wait for an answer. “No, of course you haven’t, not properly. Well, I’ll warn you, we’re not like men. We’re not easy. There’s no one-and-done climax while you lie back and think of England.”

Lacey opened her mouth. Her instinct was to defend Mr. Gold, to say that sex with him had never been like that. But that wasn’t anything Mayor Mills wanted to hear. 

“I’m going to demand a lot more of you than a man would,” the mayor went on. “I’m not satisfied by anything but perfection. And the cocks I use never go soft.”

She shifted in her seat. Were these threats or promises? “I would like to satisfy you, Madame Mayor,” she said softly. “I would like to please you.”

The mayor smiled again. “Of course you would,” she purred. “I think everyone in this town understands the benefits of having a happy mayor.” Her eyes flickered over Lacey’s body. “Are you wearing anything underneath that ugly skirt?”

 A flash of heat went through her body. Partially it was the shock and pleasure at the sudden shift in the conversation. But there was also a bit of embarrassment. Lacey liked this skirt--black vinyl with blue tulle ruffles underneath. Was it really ugly?

“Well?” Mayor Mills said patiently.

“Oh! I--yes. A thong. It’s purple, like my bustier.”

“Mmm.” The mayor smiled like a cat with a bluebird in its paw. “Well, that I simply must see.”

Lacey sprang to her feet. She moved to unzip the tight skirt, but then she got an idea. “May I take off my blouse as well?”

“Oh, if you insist.” Leaning back in her chair, the mayor picked up her knife and cut off another slice of apple. She ate it, while Lacey stripped down to her lingerie and folded her clothes neatly on the conference table. 

Then she stood in the center of the circle again, in front of the mayor’s desk, wearing nothing but purple silk, black lace, high heels, and jewelry. 

Looking at her, Mayor Mills crunched into the last bite of her apple, then threw the core into the trash. 

“Turn around,” she ordered. “Slowly.”

Lacey obeyed. God, this was amazing. Under the mayor’s scrutiny, every inch of her felt alive. This was what she was made for. This was the reason she existed in this world.

“You're groomed, at least. And it looks like you have some marks,” the mayor said coolly. “Am I safe in assuming they’re not recent?”

“No--I mean yes. They are not recent. Mr. Gold hasn’t touched me since October.”

“I imagine that would be frustrating,” she smirked. “For both of you. Come closer.”

Lacey stood directly in front of the desk. It was like she was here on official business, like she was going to ask for funding to re-open the library or something.

“Bend over, with your elbows on the desk. Lean forward until that pert little ass of yours sticks up in the air like a bitch in heat. I’m sure you’re familiar with the position. Keep your head up, but your eyes lowered. Don’t look at me.”

She did the best she could, remembering that the mayor was only satisfied by perfection. Once she was settled into place, she kept her eyes downcast. Her head was spinning. For some reason, it was hard to breathe. 

Then Lacey felt the mayor’s hands on her throat. 

She gulped,  but didn’t move. Do the brave thing. And it wasn’t that she was afraid of Mayor Mills. But the movement had been so sudden, so unexpected that it caught her off guard. And the mayor did have a very tight grip.

Her hands weren’t cold, but Lacey would have been hard-pressed to call the touch warm. A better word would have been to call the touch… proprietary. Appraising. She was inspecting the goods before she made a claim on them. 

Obediently, Lacey kept her eyes down while the mayor touched her. She couldn’t see her face. She heard her chuckle as her fingers explored the skin of her neck. 

“All these little scars here look like you lost a fight with a rose bush. How did you get them?”

You gave them to me, you bitch! You and your dragon! She made thorns grow into my skin while you made me fuck you!

“I don’t remember,” Lacey said. Honestly, she didn’t remember having scars on her throat. “I don’t think Mr. Gold gave them to me.”

“Hmm.” Despite Lacey’s ignorance, Mayor Mills sounded pleased. Her hand moved from Lacey’s neck down to the upper edge of her bustier. There was enough space between the cloth and Lacey’s skin that the mayor could have slid inside and copped a feel. But all she did was trace her fingers over the mounds of cleavage and pinch.

“Ow!” Lacey yelped, but stayed braced against the desk. It was a little shameful how quickly she reacted. But a sharp pinch could hurt more than a spanking and she was out of practice. Besides, Mr. Gold always liked her to be vocal. He liked to know exactly how much pain he was causing.  

The mayor rubbed at the sore patch of skin and gradually expanded her touch so that she cupped the whole of Lacey’s breast. 

“Oh poor thing,” she cooed. “I’m just surprised to see that they’re real. Of course, it would be a waste of Mr. Gold’s money if you paid for tits and these were the best you got.” 

The mayor emphasized her words with a sharp twist, digging her long nails into the soft flesh.

Lacey gasped in pain. The heat of it started at the mayor’s hand, coursed through all the nerves in her body, and eventually settled between her legs. The gasp turned into a whine, and then a moan.

“Good girl,” Mayor Mills said quietly. “But remember, slut, this is a public building. I can’t have you defiling these hallowed halls with your grunts and groans. You disgusting animal.”

Pressing her lips together, Lacey tried to swallow her hungry noises. 

“Ugh.” She could imagine the mayor rolling her eyes. She could imagine the disdain, the contempt on her face. Lacey was so worthless. And now she had finally found someone who understood that she was worthless, who would treat her like she was worthless.

God, she was so wet.

“Here.” The mayor took Lacey’s apple from where she had set it down earlier. “Don’t think I didn’t notice you refusing to eat this. That was exceptionally rude. Ungrateful, even. If there’s one thing I can’t stand, it’s ingratitude.” 

“I’m sor--” She began to apologize, but as soon as her mouth opened, Mayor Mills had shoved in the apple. Lacey’s teeth broke through the red skin and she tasted the sour-sweet juice on her tongue. After only a moment of having the apple in her mouth, she felt the juice dripping down onto her chin. It mingled with her saliva and made her a slobbery mess. 

“Better.” Now Mayor Mills’ voice was gentle, sweet. She was happy. It was good to make her happy. 

Lacey heard her footsteps move around the desk. She couldn’t see the mayor, and she couldn’t make any noise. Apple flooded her senses of taste and smell. All she could do was hear. And feel.

The mayor was behind her. Manicured nails scraped at the exposed flesh of Lacey’s ass. She would have made a noise, to show how much her body liked the attention, but the apple was an excellent gag.

“You know, I can smell how wet you are, you tramp.” Her hands rested on either one of Lacey’s hips. “You stink. You’re filthy. You’re a disgrace.”

Unable to moan, Lacey shivered. Her hips rocked against the desk for a minute, until Mayor Mills dug her nails in and she stopped. 

“Why do you even wear panties?” She plucked at the straps of her thong. “You always soak right through them. Every time I walk by you, you reek of pussy. You needy, greedy little cunt.”

She couldn’t stop herself. She jerked up, pushed against the desk in a desperate search for any kind of friction. 

“Wriggling like a worm,” the mayor sneered. “You’re not even really a person, are you? You’re just a sex machine, like a junkie looking for a fix. You’re nothing but your need. Just a trio of fuckholes, desperate to be filled.” 

When had Lacey started crying? She was bent face down on the empty desk. The apple in her mouth was the only thing that kept her face from pressing against the cold stone. Her hands were balled into fists on either side of her. She didn’t dare move her arms.

Everything the mayor had said echoed in her mind until she felt the vibrations of the words in her body. Her flesh trembled and shook. Her cunt clenched and it didn’t matter that it had nothing to clench against. She just wanted. Her body wanted...  

“Don’t you dare!” Mayor Mills roared. “I forbid you to come. Don’t you--”

But then there was silence.

Desperate to obey, Lacey tried to stop her orgasm. She had done that often for Mr. Gold. There was a trick to it--pretty much the same thing as stopping yourself from having hiccups. As her body calmed, she became aware that Mayor Mills hadn’t spoken. 

Then she became aware of a breeze swishing back and forth over her nearly-bare ass. It was like when Mr. Gold would pretend to spank her, just to see her jump. He would laugh at that. But Mayor Mills didn’t seem to find it amusing at all. 

“What the hell?” 

Even without seeing her, Lacey could tell that Mayor Mills was clenching her jaw. Again and again, she felt the breeze of phantom spankings. Did the mayor not want to spank her? What was going on? 

“Hands flat on the desk!” the mayor barked. “Let me see your fucking wrists!” 

Her wrists? Why? But Lacey did as she was told. Gracelessly, the mayor pulled on her hands. She turned them around and examined them. While she was distracted, Lacey dared to look up at Mayor Mills. 

She was livid. Her breath came out in huffs and her red lips snarled around bared teeth. Suddenly, she slapped her right hand beside Lacey’s left. 

“This ring,” she hissed. “That’s your wedding ring, isn’t it?”

Lacey lifted her mouth off the apple and nodded. 

Mayor Mills looked angry enough to burst into flames. “Take. It. Off!”  

Hands shaking, Lacey tried to obey. She couldn’t remember the last time she had taken off her wedding ring. Mr. Gold had wanted her to wear it day and night. But what the fuck did Mr. Gold matter now?

When the ring was off, she set it on the desk next to the gnawed apple. She stood at attention, with her eyes downcast. 

The mayor took the ring and held it between her thumb and forefinger. She looked at it, and shook her head. 

“Unbelievable.” 

Yes, it was unbelievable that Lacey would go to a seduction still wearing her wedding ring. What a stupid whore she was. Thoughtless. Sloppy. Ungrateful. 

Mayor Mills tossed the ring back down on the desk, like touching it made her sick. Then she stood up again.

“Let’s try something else.”

For a moment, her anger had abated. Her hips swayed softly as she walked over to Lacey. Gently, she put one hand on Lacey’s neck, and cupped her cheek with the other. She tilted her head back. 

Lacey closed her eyes and parted her lips--but nothing happened. The mayor’s hands moved away. After another moment, Lacey opened her eyes. 

Mayor Mills had one hand extended toward Lacey’s face. It was flat and open, like she was about to slap her. But she wasn’t. She hadn’t. Aside from some pinching, Regina hadn’t been able to do anything to her.

Rumple, you genius!   

When Lacey caught the mayor’s eye, she started and looked away. Without a word, Mayor Mills walked over to the other side of the room. There was a cabinet by the fireplace, from which she pulled out a bottle and a glass.

Her back to Lacey the whole time, the mayor poured out a measure of clear alcohol and drank it in one gulp. Then she took a deep breath. 

Then she turned around. 

“Mrs. Gold, I’m so sorry, but I don’t think I’ll be able to continue this relationship.” She gave a bittersweet smile. “You see, unlike some people in this town, I value marriage. I couldn’t possibly engage in an affair with a married woman.”

“What?” Lacey’s voice cracked. “No, you can’t mean that! I-- Mr. Gold isn’t taking care of me anymore. Our marriage is dead! I--I need you, Madame Mayor!”  

“And you can never know how happy I am to hear you say those things, dear. But the facts are facts--as long as you’re married to your husband, I can’t touch you. Not in any way that matters, at least.”

“Fuck.” Lacey put her hand over her mouth. “Oh fuck, Madame Mayor. I--I really need this, you know?”

“I know,” she nodded. She went over to the conference table and picked up the stack of Lacey’s clothes. She held them out to her. “And I am truly sorry that I won’t get to punish you the way you deserve. But this is how it has to be.” She turned back to her desk.

“Wait!” Lacey clutched her clothes to her chest. “You--you’re just doing this because I’m married, right?”

The mayor nodded again. She had pulled out a paper towel from a desk drawer and was wiping up Lacey’s spit and apple juice. 

“Well, what if--what if I left him? What if we got a divorce?”

Mayor Mills stopped cleaning mid-wipe. For the first time in a while, she looked Lacey in the eye. “Divorces can be messy. They can take a long time. I thought your issue was more pressing than that.”

“I--I don’t know what else to do, Madame Mayor.” Dumping her clothes on a chair, she got on her knees in front of the desk. “You’re right, I do need what you can give me. I need it now, and I’ll do anything to get it!”

She smiled. A light shone in her black eyes. “Anything?”

“Yes. Please.”

“Hmm.” The mayor stood. She began to walk around Lacey in a slow circle. “Well, my point still stands. I simply can’t do anything worthwhile to you while you’re married to Mr. Gold.”

Lacey opened her mouth to beg again, but Mayor Mills lifted a finger and she fell silent.

“And, as we’ve established, a divorce might take a while to finalize. Especially with your husband’s thorough approach to contracts. So I suppose I’m forced to meet you halfway. I’ll just need some proof that your marriage is dead.”

Lacey licked her lips. “Proof?”

“Yes.” When her circle was complete, Mayor Mills was in front of her desk again. The golden ring was still on the surface. She picked it up and handed it out to Lacey. 

It was a bizarre reverse-proposal. Lacey was the one on her knees. The mayor was giving her her own ring back to her, in exchange for a promise to end a marriage.    

“This is part of a matched set, isn’t it?” she asked. “It’s useless on its own. Your husband wears the other one?”

Lacey nodded. 

“Alright,” Mayor Mills said. “So in order for me to have you, I’ll need both of them.”

“What?” Lacey felt her eyes going wide. “You want me to take Mr. Gold’s wedding ring?”

The mayor shrugged. “If your marriage is as dead as you say, he won’t miss it. If it isn’t, then, well, I have no power over you.”

“No.” Scrambling to her feet, Lacey took the ring from the mayor’s hand. “No, I want you to have power over me. I really do!”

A knowing, full-lipped smile. “There’s not much that would make me happier than having absolute power over you, dear. And it will happen, just as soon as I have both of your wedding rings.”

“It will,” Lacey nodded. “I’ll make it happen. I won’t disappoint you, Madame Mayor!”