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#OH LOOK MY FUCKIN DAY JOB!*
61below · 7 months
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I really gd love how Cang Lan Jue digs into the way enmity just perpetuates enmity (unchecked) like, not only does Yunzhong immediately go ‘if she isn’t a fairy and she isn’t human, then she MUST be Yuezu’ but like the whole thing just escalated (so quickly) from what was just a genuine question that should have had an easy answer: what is XLH? And the thing is, we know that her true form can be read, that was like, the third thing DFQC did after meeting her. Including his instinctive reaction to kill all fairies on sight
So why couldn’t the high immortal, Sansheng, do it?
I think that the protection DFQC conferred upon her also protected her from any kind of magical intrusion or interference, too. Not just physical attacks, but magical ones. But like an anaphylaxis response to allergens, it’s not that good at telling the difference between an actual attack and just someone trying to … what, scan her meridians? Idfk how it works, but I’mna run with the idea that to sample something you gotta take a piece of it, so to ‘read’ her form, one has to dip into her qi. But the bone orchid registers that as HEY YOU DON’T BELONG HERE!!! and does the meridian-level equivalent of throwing up a wall of hellfire around her. Which is why what Sansheng projects ends up looking like flames. She can’t read XLH’s true form bc all she ‘sees’ is the firewall.
(… and ok now I’m actually interested in whether or not the Yuezu doctors were able to do any magical diagnostics on her. Like, did it not register as an ‘attack’ to the bone orchid bc it’s Yuezu cultivation? Did she refuse to let these nosy strangers even do a check? I am CURIOUS.)
But my POINT is that it’s really interesting that the story takes ‘here is someone just trying to defend what’s theirs, but the State of Hostilities is so Hot that even the very act of defense is seen as a Threat’ and gives ‘the INSTANT response to any Perceived Threat is with Aggression. Up to DEATH.’
… and where do you even begin to start conflict resolution from there? It’s no wonder things escalated as far as they did.
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dog-girl-zezora · 1 year
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Been so normal lately I spent that past 2 days having a bipolar episode and crying through work only to end up habby and brain dead again
Girl what the fuck is wrong with you
Life is good life is ending make up your mind
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landofgay · 2 years
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is it worth it to work at the liquor store if I'm still in retail but away from food service
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the-bluestreak-cat · 6 months
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I’m so excited about my five cheese ziti
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agdab · 10 months
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2 interactions with one home depot employee here and then she goes and complains to her manager ab me
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iknowicanbutwhy · 1 year
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12 hour shifts should be illegal. Holy hell.
#venting. Feel free to scroll past#so tired of being stuck in a hole of a town#you try to look for a job and it's like hey! your options are: 10 jobs where there's never enough people working and you have to do#5 tasks at once or 3 jobs where you slave your entire day away in a factory with hypersurveillance and no social interaction#and hey haha maybe you'll get a break?? It's totally not guaranteed in your first 10 options hahaha#FUCK#the nearest marginally okay job is an hour away#gas cost is up the fuckin roof#but hey! there's ways of getting around earning money. You could buy something and make other people's lives more miserable by letting them#borrow it and holding power over them because there's no place to escape to except for another person who owns their shit :)#LIKE YOUR FUCKING HOUSE#AND YOUR CAR#AND THE MONEY YOU SAVE FOR YOUR HEALTH AND YOUR CAR THAT YOU'RE NOT EVEN ALLOWED TO USE MOST OF THE TIME#GOD KNOWS I CANT FIX MY GODDAMN TEETH#you could join the shitshow that is online investing- sorry i mean advanced pyramid scheming with a little bit of actual stake in the world#please. please oh my god#the only way to make things even a little easier is to live in a housefull of 5-6 working people but god. At least kids don't have to#work anymore because of government assistance. But once you're an adult with anything a tad over minimum wage? You're on your own buddy#Life was never supposed to be about living hand to mouth. We surpassed that way of living as soon as agriculture became a thing.#automation. surplus. the ability to relax can be mass produced.#please. i just want a job to support the few people i have without turning into some stressed asshole that either sleeps or rages at them
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angelsforthenight · 2 months
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MRS. AND MRS. SMITH — abby anderson x fem!reader
ways you can help gaza 🇵🇸
do not buy tlou2 remastered!
a/n: this is way more inspired by the mr and mrs smith series (2024) not the 2005 one!!! this explains why they’re wives :3
you’re an assassin along with your assigned partner/wife, abby anderson. fed up with her toxic behaviour, you’re pleased when the mission is centred around you seducing a man for murderous motives. why? well, because you know it’ll get under abby’s skin. little did you know, things would blow over way more than you thought it would.
cw: mdni, owen feature🤮🤮, long fic, kinda slow-burn ig?, femme fatale, arranged marriage couple, kinda toxic relationship, violence, mention of blades, car sex, mean!abby, bratty!reader, dom!abby, degrading, bdsm, ass-smacking, finger-fucking, cursing, jealous!abby, hair pulling, dry-humping, finger-sucking, choking, rough sex, teasing, squirting.
“short brown hair, rugged beard. got that?” abby’s murmuring voice comes in from the earpiece you’ve got attached. you groan and roll your eyes, wishing you could mute the goddamn thing.
see, any other day, you would’ve loved to hear your wife’s pretty little voice guiding you — her praises when you’d do something right or her degrades if you’d do something wrong both sending shivers down your spine, compelling you to do whatever she wanted.
but not today. today you’re over it. so what do you respond with?
“yeah, i know, anderson. we both got the fucking brief.” you hiss. you know how pissed abby gets whenever you curse at her; so that’s exactly what you do. you relish at the thought of her gritting her teeth, not being able to snap at you in front of all of these people.
that’s right, you two are at a charity gala event. it’s fancy. too fancy to the point where it’s intimidating: glistening chandeliers, artistic decorations and bustling people wearing glamorous attire. you and abby needed to blend in with the crowd so not only are you two dressed smartly for the occasion but are also split up. not that you’re complaining. you’re sick of her. sick of her petulance whenever you’d get glorified by the agency instead of her, sick of how sometimes she can be so simple-minded, sick of how, at points, she lacks at making you feel loved.
your job is to take out an owen moore, for unforeseen reasons. you never question what the agency tells you to do, neither does abby.
you’re planning to lure him in an concealed area with your enticing charisma, make him believe you’re going to sleep with him before slicing him dead with your blade. you prowl through the many people, scanning the area with a keen eye to find him. claude debussy plays as background music, taming your harrowing nerves. killing is never easy.
“found him yet?” abby sighs.
“please don’t distract me.” there’s way too many people and it’s beginning to stress you out. what if you never find him? failing the mission is the last thing you wanna do.
“i’m getting bored. plus, small talk with strangers pisses me off.” she complains.
“not my goddamn problem.” you retort, the ends of your tight-fitting dress flailing against your legs as you pick up the pace, worrying if there’s not enough time, worrying if he’s even here in the first place.
“literally what is your problem? acting extra fuckin’ snobby tonight...”
your eyebrows knit together. abby always finds a way to get under your skin.
“let’s not fucking start—“ you’re about to snap and make yourself look like a fool in front of all of these people until somebody accidentally bumps into you: spilling his drink all over your dress. great!
“oh shit. sorry, i didn’t mean that.” you hear a man’s voice as you stare down at your ruined dress in disbelief. you slowly glance up at the culprit; only to find the noted brown hair and rugged beard staring right back at you. owen moore.
despite your worked up embarrassment and your extreme annoyance, you manage to flash a smile.
“it’s okay, but... you do realise you owe me now right?” you bat your eyelashes, hoping you don’t look silly.
“and what’s that?” owen chuckles, rubbing the back of his head and making immense eye contact. he’s already flirting back, you think. this is about to be so fucking easy.
with a few drinks, owen’s already tipsy and you’re leading him to the vast room. you make him believe you’re just as woozy; stumbling and giggling away. you take advantage of his obliviousness: your hand brushing against the slit of your dress, fingers cupping the wooden handle of the blade in the garter wrapped around your thigh. whilst he laughs and babbles nonsense, you carefully trace the edge of the blade — feelings of excitement rushing to the surface. regardless of the fact that killing is never easy, it’s also never not exhilarating.
you’re about to fully whip out the blade until owen decides to be bold: setting his slobbery hands against the small of your back and trying to lean in for a kiss.
“woah.” you feign a grin, pulling his hands away. “we go at my pace.”
“aww… please?” he mumbles, trying to seem like an adorable puppy but instead making it look disgusting. this is sad, you think. you try to grab your knife again but he’s now grabbing your arms; desperate for a fruitless smooch.
“come on… don’t play hard to get.” he growls, his sudden aggression catching you a little off guard. no need for stress, you know what to do. your knee prepares itself to kick hard in between his legs until somebody’s arm suddenly emerges from behind, wrapping around his neck and squeezing hard.
“what—“ you breathe in bewilderment, eyes widening. despite owen choking and uselessly clawing at abby’s arm for escape, her gaze stays intently trained on yours; a death stare. it’s unnerving.
it doesn’t take long for owen to turn cold and slack, eyes rolling to the back of his head. abby lets him go, but not without cracking his neck first, and you watch as he flops onto the floor.
“what the fuck, abby…” you mutter, palming a frustrated hand across your face. “where the hell did you even come from?”
“there’s doors.” she tilts her head towards the backdoor behind her. you hadn’t even noticed it. your eyes travel back to her; irresistibly ogling at the black suit clinging to her body, complimenting her form. you almost forget you’re supposed to be mad at her.
the blonde chuckles wryly, a petty exhale. “you starin’? assumed pussy boys were more your type.”
“real fucking mature.” you snarl. “i had him. i was this close to killing him, abby.”
“you were taking too long.” abby shrugs, condescendingly pouting. you grit your teeth.
“jealousy? really? grow up.”
“at least i watch where i’m going. nice dress, the wet splotch is a nice touch, really.” she slanders, narrowing her eyes. you scoff, trying to pretend as if that dig didn’t offend you.
“you’re a fucking child. help me with the body.”
you two leave the building with ease, pretending as if owen is a friend that’s had too much to drink, wrapping his arms around the both of your shoulders and leading him to your car. abby opens the boot and you two push him inside. you two will decide on how deal with the body later.
for now, you’re sat on the passenger’s seat whilst abby drives, the two of you salty and quiet. abby’s driving way too fast; her hand gripping the steering wheel like her life depends on it. she’s obviously fuming.
“can you slow down?” you glare at her.
“you owe me… i mean, who even says that?” abby grumbles, ignoring your request.
“a lot of people do. now slow down, we don’t wanna attract attention from police knowing there’s a dead body back there.”
“not to mention that you’ve had an attitude since last night! the way you were flirting with that oliver guy? or whatever the fuck his name was, had to be on purpose. to spite me.”
abby starts driving even faster, increasing your stress. “owen.” you correct, “you’re so self absorbed!” you continue to beg for her to slow down.
“he’s, like, the embodiment of revolting too. don’t even get me started at the way he was trying to force himself on you. i should’ve put a bullet in his brain.” abby rattles on, pure jealousy oozing from her tone.
“you were definitely enjoying it too. i know you were.” she turns her head to look at you, not paying attention to the road.
“abby. abby!” you scream as abby almost runs through a poor family trying to cross the road.
“fuck.” abby murmurs as she swerves messily, just in the nick of time, steering into a deserted field. the two of you are out of breath from the fright, hearts racing from the adrenaline. abby rests her head on the wheel, letting out a long sigh.
“just what the hell is the matter with you?” you scold, “all this shit over a mission? are you serious?” abby’s lack of response leads you to continue yelling at her.
“of course we’re going to have to flirt with our targets now and then! the fuck happened to your professionalism? if i had known you’d be acting like this then i would’ve never—“
“why didn’t you kiss him?” abby raises her head to look up at you, her face blank. you blink, a little taken aback by the unexpected question.
“i…” you look away. you’re not exactly up for abby knowing that you couldn’t kiss him because of her. “where even are we anyway?”
“nice try. since you’re so professional, why didn’t you kiss him? he clearly wanted to. you could’ve easily killed him then.” the corner of abby’s lips arch up into a smirk — the familiar smug look of hers that never fails to get you weak.
“for someone who’s had so much to say just a second ago…” she leans in a little, arm resting against your headrest, “…you’re awfully quiet.” her voice is hushed down to a soft whisper, and you swear you’re beginning to feel a little lightheaded.
“look, abby, you’re my wife… so…” you mumble in response to her pressing question, avoiding eye contact. abby chuckles, loosening her tie. here comes the floodgates.
“don’t play dumb and pretend as if the agency didn’t arrange that.” her finger presses against the dome light of the car; illuminating your embarrassed face. just what she wanted to see.
“you’ve been enjoying yourself, seeing me all jealous like this. you liked playing femme fatale, hmm?” her finger slowly twists itself around a strand of your hair, before she yanks a handful, forcing your head closer. you wince, eyes clenched shut. your cunt decides to flex too — reminding you that she’s got a mind of her own, and that she finds being in an empty field like this, in abby’s car, pretty fucking hot.
“let’s face it…” abby whispers, so close that you can feel her breath tickling your ear, shooting heavy tingles down your body.
“you want me so bad it hurts.” her eyes drift down to your thighs that are starting to shift uncomfortably in your seat. it’s beginning to ache down there and it seems like abby’s aware of that. you can’t help it. after all, abby sitting so close: loose strands of hair framing her face, unfastened tie and darkened eyes fixed on you, feels so good that it’s suffocating.
you squirm a little and abby grins, her fingers still laced in your hair. her grip slightly tightens as she licks her lips. she looks hungry.
“maybe what hurts is your fingers in my hair.” you quip, though your voice is a little shaky.
“maybe you need to fix your attitude.” abby retorts, “like, seriously, pipe down… you’re probably soaking down there.” she snickers, right on the money.
“fuck you.” you glare at her, gauging her reaction. you want to believe you’re saying this out of sheer anger for what went down tonight, but deep down, you know that’s not the case. in reality, you just want to get under abby’s skin. it’s what you’ve been craving since the beginning; to get her pissed.
you wipe the pleased look off of abby’s face, which is now replaced with a frown. your heart pounds with anticipation: so much so that your chest faintly heaves, lips parted.
abby’s eyes wander to your lips and in one swift movement, she pulls you in; pressing her lips against yours. you’re quick to kiss her back, the sweetness of her mouth sealing yours. fervent can’t even begin to explain the way you two are kissing. akin to wild animals, small muffled groans escape the both of you.
desperation is thick in the confined air of the car, as abby pulls away and shrugs her blazer off. you stare up at her.
“hurry… with your slow-ass.” you whine.
“watch your fucking mouth. c’mere.” abby commands. you naturally do as she says and she begins to unzip your dress — not without making sure to go deliberately slow.
“why do you have to be so mean?” you sigh, burying your face in the crook of her neck.
“oh, trust me… i’m only gonna be meaner.” she warns whilst planting gentle kisses on your neck. you’ve always admired abby for her ability to vary from being sour to tender in seconds. little did you know, the peppered kisses on your neck served as a prior apology to how cruel she’s going to treat you in a second.
once everything is off, abby marvels at your body. like a painting in an art gallery, she makes sure to pay attention to even the minuscule details of your body. it’s her favourite thing in the entire world.
“turn around.” abby mutters, her eyes hazy; voice bleeding with lust.
“what?”
“just do it.”
you hesitantly do as she says. abby beams: finding your weak resistance amusing yet is also excited to break you.
“now… bend over.” she coos, clearly poking fun.
you shoot her a glare, cheeks flushed. “what am i, your dog?”
“don’t piss me off.”
you glare at her for a few seconds longer before sighing, reluctantly bending over.
“arching that back and everything… wooow.” abby teases, “and to think i haven’t even touched you yet.”
“oh, just fuck off, abby…” you complain, the embarrassment beginning to overwhelm you.
“what was that?”
“i said fuck—“ but you’re cut off by a yelp when abby brings her palm down flat against your ass. you flinch violently; very, very taken off guard.
“mm? didn’t quite hear you. repeat yourself.” abby taunts, smacking you again. you grunt and flinch yet again, feeling the sting of her slap coarse through your body. abby’s humiliating you, milking every last drop of your embarrassment. the worst thing yet? you’re enjoying this way more than you should be.
“i’m not kidding. speak.” abby commands, showing no signs of mercy. your skin is already starting to gleam red, and your pussy? well, it’s a fucking party down there.
“abby…” you cry, completely under her control. the more she smacks, flesh recoiling under her palm, the more your head goes blank.
“go on babe… finish what you were saying before.” abby prods. this time, when she smacks you, her fingers grasp the flesh on your ass tightly; watching in delight as her fingertips leave little red marks. you’re trembling like a leaf, both from the pain and the arousal.
see, the thing with abby is that she never likes to let things go. she adores jabbing at you until she gets what she wants.
another smack, this one so hard that you need to press your palms against the window. abby then grips your waist and pulls you way closer; making your ass press against her hips.
“you wanna get fucked?” abby mutters, teasingly bringing your waist back and forth against her hips: hard, playful thrusts. your bare cunt pressing against her crotch is, without a doubt, driving you insane. you frantically nod in response to her question, in which abby replies with latching her hand around your neck; forcing you upright so that your back is now against her chest.
“use your words.”
“y-yes…” tears begin to stream down your face. you’re desperate, yearning for her touch as if it’s a life or death situation.
“so finish what you were saying.” her fingers slightly squeeze around the sides of your neck.
“i-i told you to f-fuck off but i d-didn’t… haa… mean it.” you splutter. the you a while ago would’ve had her mouth agape in horror at your behaviour right now.
“see? that wasn’t so hard, was it?” abby coos, her fingers tracing down your stomach, in between your thighs. long, drawn-out circles are traced on your swollen clit, her fingers pressing just the right amount of pressure. you groan, and abby taps her chin against your shoulder; smirking at how your legs are writhing, desperate for more.
“where’d all your attitude go?” the blonde ridicules. her other hand moves over to your breast, squeezing it, her thumb caressing your nipple. as to the hand working on you, her middle and ring finger brush against your folds; up and down. she’s touching you but it doesn’t feel like it’s enough: abby knows that.
“don’t do this to me, abby…” you exasperate. she lets out a breathy chuckle before flipping you over and setting you down onto the car seat. she reclines it back, eyes yet again fixed on you. you stare up at her with big glossy eyes, your head blank as if you’ve been dumbed down.
abby gloats at how helpless you look, grabbing your face with one hand and squishing your cheeks. “you look stupid.”
“shut up and fuck me.” you mutter in a muffled tone. abby laughs as if what you’ve said was the funniest joke in the entire world. you wonder if abby can feel your cheeks burning up against her palm.
before you know it, abby plows her thick fingers so far inside your cunt that you’d squeal, if it wasn’t for abby’s hand still clenched on your cheeks.
“this what you wanted?” abby purrs, fingers curling up against your g-spot already. you moan, back arching and squirming.
“oh! riiiiight, you can’t speak.” she gloats, playfully shaking your head with her hand. you whine in embarrassment, yet you secretly enjoy how she’s handling you like a doll.
abby’s finger-fucking you rough, wet squelch noises filling up the car. the sound of it is so erotic that it leaves you dizzy, eyes rolling to the back of your head. the blonde releases her grip on your face but not her thumb, that slips inside of your mouth.
“suck.” you mindlessly do as she says, as if you’re brainwashed. you can see abby’s cheeks tint red when you slowly suck her thumb, making sure to keep eye contact.
abby chuckles, looking away. seems like she didn’t think you’d actually do it.
“you’re shy.” you point out. you triumph over the fact that now it’s her turn to be embarrassed, but not for long.
“shut the fuck up.” abby says brusquely, her fingers operating way harder than before; relentlessly pounding against your g-spot. you cry, feeling overwhelmingly good.
that rigid attitude you had a moment ago? now dead and buried. you feel surreal, a series of mewls and sobs leaving your lips.
“nothing smart to say anymore? you look fucking pathetic.” and she’s right. you look like a hot mess. abby smothers your tears all over your face. you mindlessly move your hips, fucking yourself on her fingers. she smirks, loving what she’s seeing. you feel a knot beginning to untie in your stomach, sublime throbs coursing all over your body.
“i’m cumming…” you manage to choke out.
“i know.” abby buries her face in the crook of your neck, and you shiver at the feel of her breath against your skin.
“i’ll decide to be nice and let you finish.”
and that’s your cue. with an ending moan to seal it off, you feel your body tense up, eyes widening. abby leans in and presses her forehead against yours. you squeeze your eyes shut, before your body relaxes. you’re panting like a dog, staring up at abby with foggy and depleted eyes.
“so cute…” she murmurs before cupping your chin and kissing you — this time, soft and tender as opposed to the way she was kissing you before. you feel warm.
so absorbed in each other, you two forget about how you’re in the middle of nowhere and how the body in the car boot needs to be dealt with. for now, you two have something more important to worry about: how you’re gonna clean up the mess you’ve left all over the chair and dashboard.
a/n: you made it !!! thought it’d be funny if the target was owen😭😭 hope u enjoyed reading <3
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rinhaler · 5 months
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toji fucking his step daughter because his wife won’t give him any attention and she’s the second best thing :3
-🌹
daddy toji my beloved :3
warnings: 18+ MDNI, fem!reader, praise (good girl), biting, age gap, stepcest, cheating, daddy kink, creampie, bimbofication, virginity loss, fingering, masturbation.
words: 2k
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Toji doesn’t know what to think, what to feel, whenever he sees you floating around the house. You’re confident, that he knows. Short skirts and tiny t-shirts are usually your go to attire, whether you’re at home or going out with your friends, you often dress scantily.
He tried scolding you about it, but you didn’t listen. And his wife, well, maybe if she supported him more he wouldn’t be thinking such oh so inappropriate things about his cute little step daughter.
“Where is she?” you ask, rudely, snapping Toji from his thoughts as you lean across the breakfast bar. He has to force himself to not look down your top, your cleavage on full display. Though his eyes do slip downward when he realises you aren’t even looking at him, too engrossed with your phone. “Said she’d give me money t’get my nails done.” you tell him, and he now knows you’re referring to your mother.
“She’s back to school shopping with Megumi.” he tells you, breaking his stare from your low cut crop top and looking into your eyes. Have you always been so skanky?
You’re a grown woman. He can’t believe you’re still leaching off of your mother. Nails can’t be that expensive. You should get a job and pay for them yourself. What makes you so special that you just get whatever you want just because you asked?
“Oh, well, you’ll have to gimme it.” you smile at him briefly before texting your friends again. You don’t even notice when he scoffs, shaking his head in disappointment.
What’s annoying him more is the fact that you’re reminding him so much of your fucking mother. Before she grew up, before they grew old, she was exactly like you. Vapid and gorgeous. She had him wrapped around her little finger back in the day, and he’s sure you are the same with every boy you come into contact with.
He feels his cock strain against his slacks as he thinks about all of hot and wild sex they used to have back then. Honestly, these days, he doesn’t remember the last time he got his dick wet. Now he’s just a miserable, pent up dad in a regular marriage. That’s life though, right? That’s just what happens as you get older.
Your wife loses interest and you develop a porn addiction.
“I’m not pay—”
You silence him as you pull your old school pink flip phone to your ear and hold up a finger in front of him, smiling when you hear your friends voice. “Yeah I’ll be there in thirty! Daddy’s givin’ me the money.” you beam at him, your shoulders bouncing as you talk excitedly.
Toji shakes his head again, reaching into his back pocket to grab his wallet.
He’s wrapped around your finger, like mother like fuckin’ daughter.
“I’m not fucking Satoru!” you tell your friend, rolling your eyes. Your step father freezes, for just a moment, before pulling out some money from his wallet. You look down at his hand and see the pitiful amount, taking his wallet from him and stealing a few extra bank notes while you rest your phone between your ear and shoulder. “Ugh. No one believes me! Do you? Whenever I tell anyone ‘m a virgin they think I’m lying.”
“Hang up the phone.” Toji tells you, but you barely hear him. You look at him for a split second before focusing on the call again.
“No, I didn’t! I sucked him off and that’s all I’ve done.” you huff. “Also my step dad is here so, like, stop talking about it.”
“Kid, hang up the fuckin’ phone.” he tells you, louder.
“Wait a sec,” you tell your friend, moving the phone away from your ear. “What?”
“Hang. Up.”
“Oh my God!” you moan, “I’ll meet you there, Toji wants to talk to me— yeah I’m probably getting in trouble because of you! Hahaaaa okay, byeeee~!” you smile, hanging up and giving your full attention to your step-father. He doesn’t speak, and neither do you. Not for a while, not until the silence makes you too uncomfortable to keep it going. “Is this ‘cuz of the money? You didn’t give me enough.”
“I— no, sweetheart.” he shakes his head. “Were you lyin’ to your friend, just now? About being a virgin?”
“Hm? No, why?”
Toji huffs out a breath, his cheeks filling with air as he thinks things through. He’s shocked, to say the least. He always thought you were putting out like a pro. He knows you’ve been on birth control for years. He’s had to drive you to get your injection a few times. He never thought about it much, just a regular dad chore when your mother wasn’t available.
But you’re a woman, now.
He’s surprised you haven’t been fucking since you were a teenager. But he’s even more surprised that you aren’t sexually active, now. He can’t help but wonder why. What’s stopping you? You dress like a slut, after all. Why aren’t you acting like one?
He reaches over and grabs his wallet and the money from your hand. You want to protest, but he walks by you too quickly for you to object. He hurries up the stairs and slams the door after himself.
“A— Am I grounded?!” you yell, hoping for a response.
Nothing.
You follow up the stairs, running up them as best you can in your high heels, and wait outside of his bedroom door. You knock a few times, and get no response. So you begin to pound on the door.
“Toji! You can’t ground me anymore!”
“You’re not grounded, come here.” he instructs. You open the door and walk into the room. He’s sitting on the edge of his bed, belt unbuckled and zipper down. He must be changing into something comfier to wear around the house. “Sit.” he tells you, patting his hand on his lap.
You go to him, immediately, sitting sweetly on his thick thighs as he thinks about what to say.
“Didn’t realise you were such a good girl,” he tells you, kissing your shoulder softly. “You’re like a nice version of your mother.”
“Should divorce her if y’don’t like her, daddy.” you tell him, looking down at your imperfect nails. You giggle when you feel him bounce you on his leg.
“Maybe I should.” he tells you. “But I’ll be lonely.”
“You’ll have me ‘n Megumi!” you remind him. “Well, maybe not me as much, but, y’know.”
“Ah, sweetheart, don’t wanna lose you. Not now, not ever.” he kisses your shoulder again. “How come you’re a virgin, huh? Savin’ it?”
“Mhmm… wanna give it to someone special.” you tell him, looking his direction and batting your pretty, false eyelashes. “Everyone thinks ‘m a slut… but ‘m not! Promise! Makes me embarrassed that I haven’t done it yet, sometimes, though.”
His cock aches as he hears you talk. How dumb yet adorable you sound as you discuss your sex life, or lack there of. He isn’t even a little surprised that people don’t believe you, he wouldn’t have believed it himself if you hadn’t told him. He can see in your pathetically wet eyes, though, that you’re being truthful.
He is overwhelmed by the need to bare his soul to you. To tell you what he wants. What he needs and desires from you most right now. There’s no shame within him as he puts his hand down his pants and wraps his hand around his cock, pulling it free. He holds your body in place with his free hand, his arm possessing enough strength to keep you firmly in place.
You’re just like your mother.
If your mother wasn’t a cold, celibate bitch.
“Daddy wants to be your someone special, darlin’.” he informs you, words warbling as he pleasures himself behind your back.
You can hear it. You can hear the tacky sound of his cock being rubbed again and again. The way his breath and speech is slightly uneven. He sinks his teeth into your bare shoulder and you wince. It’s not too hard, but it was unexpected.
He’s surprised you don’t object when he splits your legs apart so that you’re straddling one of his thighs. His hand roams up your thigh and beneath your skirt, towards your clothed cunt. Though when he gets too close, your legs shut, quickly.
“You’re my daddy, you can’t touch me there!” you remind him. But he knows. He knows he’s your daddy and that’s exactly why you should let him. Admittedly, part of you wants him to. You want to feel someone make contact with your untouched core for the very first time.
Someone that isn’t you.
You’re sure Toji is very experienced. He’s so handsome, even now. You’ve seen pictures of him when he was your age over two decades ago. He’s beautiful, like a film star. You know he was fucking like it was going out of fashion.
Your mother has told you what a stallion he is in bed, you’re close like that. There’s no secrets or shame between you. And honestly, it did make you feel a little jealous. You felt like you were missing out on something. Sex, in general, and Toji.
But you never thought you’d be like this, with him.
“Baby, who’s gonna make you feel more special than your daddy, hah?” he asks. You feel your resolve weakening as he kisses your neck deliciously. You want to scream at him, to tell him where you want him to touch you.
He teases your body until your arching and squirming to follow his touch. And you practically cream around his thigh when he lifts up your top and tweaks your nipple. You’re weightless in his hold as he moves you around like you’re his little doll. He licks and laves over your pulse point while playing with your tits. His free hand moves your panties aside with a goal in mind. Two thick fingers slide effortlessly into your tight, virgin slot. The resistance is there but he ignores it. You ignore it.
And within minutes you’re having your first orgasm on account of another person. You aren’t sure why your mother has stopped having sex with Toji, you’d be begging him for it every chance you got if this brief encounter is anything to go by.
“Fuck me, daddy, please? Please—”
“Thought daddy’s can’t touch their little girls there?” he smirks, already helping you turn around to face him. He kisses you, sloppily, as he lines his thick cock up with your tight hole. “Sh, sh, shhh, baby… good girl, c’mon, take daddy’s cock. Jus’ like that.” he talks you through it as you sob. Little cunt stretching to accommodate his monstrous size.
“T-Too big! Daddy’s too big for me!” you tell him, though he silences you with another kiss.
Truth be told, he doesn’t particularly care if it hurts or not anymore. He doesn’t care if you can’t take him, because you will. He does all of the work for you, lifting you up and down like a toy while he thrusts up into you.
He almost cums from the sight of your eyes turning white and your tongue hanging out as he pummels into your sweet spot. He wonders if you’ll keep telling your friends you’re a virgin. It’ll be a fun little secret, for both of you, he thinks.
He finishes with a string of grunts, fucking his seed deep into you again and again until he’s got nothing left to give.
You feel so icky and sweaty as he starts to calm down from his release. He kisses you, sweetly, thanking you repeatedly. He needed this badly. It’s not even just sex anymore. He’s tired of feeling lonely and he’s tired of being neglected.
You’re not your mother though, are you?
You won’t make him feel like that.
“Don’t tell her, sweetheart.” he tells you, brushing your hair from your face and kissing your cheek. He grabs your chin between his thumb and forefinger, guiding you to look at him as he speaks. “This stays between you ‘n me, alright?”
“Mhmm!” you nod, leaning forward eagerly to kiss his lips. “Always wanted you to be my special person…” you confess.
“Yeah?” he smiles at that, you really are sweet when you want to be.
“Wanna do it again, daddy. Can we?”
“Of course,” he nods, “I’m addicted to this little pussy, now.”
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© 2023 rinhaler
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myster-tea · 2 years
Text
I’m working on what would be Caedes’s statement to The Magnus Institute about him slowly going crazy from that god damn butchering job-
#basically he was Just Some Guy then he got a job with this Other Guy and the Other Guy (Jayson) told Caedes that “’lol just chop this shit#up idc we grind it almost all up anyways-‘ so Caedes got that job then one day BOOM a whole fuckin human leg is there to chop up and hes all#like ‘AYE BOSS THERES A FUCKIN THIGH ON MY COUNTER WHAT TF’ and Jayson is like “oh that’s not human you silly billy 🤪 that’s obviously part#of a pig or somethin I don’t know damn shit about animals- I mean what I’m sooooo educated on animals omg wow I’m smart big brain wooo’#so now Caedes is very “’THATS SUSPICIOUS- THATS WEIRD-‘#and he finds out that literally all the fuckin meat in this town is a mix of human and animal- it being about %70 human so eeewwww#ew cannibalism that sure isn’t good-#or something along those lines then he gets desensitized to it and kind of like how in The Killing Floor they said you can’t be there for to#long because you’ll go crazy? kind of the same thing here!- that sure is great!- /sarc#but that’s the basic thing-#and it would be Caedes coming in and writing the statement around the time John starts working there- I think-#about when the Jane Prentice arc is about to happen he records Caedes’s statement and after is like ‘uhhh well it’s obviously just#hallucinations or something this place never even exsisted I looked into it! it’s a fake statement made to creep people out’ then finds out#people went missing and were seen around Caedes last#and he was leading them to the butcher shop- but it was never an official business so that’s why it had no records or somethin#wooo rambling in the tags fun
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fuwushiguro · 8 months
Note
Hi love! Your content is great and always makes my head spin🤤 I was wondering if you could maybe do fitness trainer Toji with a plush reader? Like you go to the gym wanting to slim down and ask for a trainer and before any of the other loser trainers can get to you, Toji steps in. He is constantly reassuring you the entire time And at the end of the session he just can’t resist from not touching you🥺🫶🏼 thank you in advance and I hope you have the best day possible!
I can literally imagine Toji quoting this in his head as he hears you talk negatively about your body (not proofed I'm lazy) warnings: chubby!reader, body issues, raw sex, slightly public, praise etc etc lmk if i missed any
"Huh?"
"I literally need a gym trainer who's going to help me look like a rake."
"I- what? A fuckin' rake? What are you talking about?"
"My boyfriend cheated on me, and of course the girl he slept with is tiny. He left me for her... I don't want him back but I want to prove a point!" you explain, looking at him with hopeful eyes, desperate for him to help with your mission.
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He stared at you, and it scared you a little. You aren't sure if you've said something wrong or if he just had no interest in your tragic love life. But you can only assume he doesn't get many clients with this attitude.
"Fine, kid. But listen, I'm not helping you 'look like a rake'." he tells you.
"B-But..."
"I'll help you train. If you lose weight, whatever. If you gain muscle... I think that'll be a better revenge body to make your ex regret leaving you." he explains.
"O-Oh... really? Okay, I trust you."
He smirks at that.
It's not often he's trusted by women.
"I hate sit ups." you pant, breathlessly.
"It's your last set, just do it 'n then you can go home." he tells you, as he sits beside you drinking some water from his comically large bottle. By the size of it, you'd think he'd be the one who had been working out for the last hour.
"C'mere." he shuffles his body so that he's closer to you, positioning your legs and hips like you're weightless. "You might find it easier now. I'll stay here, gimme ten more."
"Ten?!"
"Do it."
You sigh, lying flat as you mentally prepare yourself for how bad your stomach is about to ache. Your cheeks fill as you blow out a puff of air. You're painfully aware of his eyes on you, and honestly, you're embarrassed. You begin to sit up again and again as you think about his incredible physique. About how he surely thinks the same way as your ex boyfriend.
Your eyes lock with his with ever sit up you perform, his hands grabbing your knees to keep you in place. Your noses almost touch and his eyes are filled with what you can only assume is disgust. You're humiliating yourself trying to make yourself appear more attractive to the male species.
"Aaaand done, good job, kid." he smiles at you, his small mouth scar pulling slightly as he does. "So, wanna make this a regular thing?"
You hold up a finger as you catch your breath, eventually nodding. He holds his hand out to you, helping you to your feet with ease. He walks away from you, tilting his head and indicating for you to follow. You aren't sure where he's taking you, but you follow mindlessly.
"My calendar is in my office, I'll get you booked in for a few sessions this month and then you can just give them your card details at the fron desk." he explains.
"Sure, sounds good." you smile, he walks into his office first and holds the door opening, closing it right after you come in. Your ears prick when you hear the door lock, but for whatever reason you don't feel alarmed.
The air is knocked from your lungs as you feel his hands on your waist, lifting you into the air and practically slamming you onto his desk.
"W-What are you doing?!" you gasp.
"Can I kiss you?" he asks, it's almost polite but not really. He's expecting one answer, and luckily for you you're nodding before you can think of declining. He hikes up your leg and squeezes your plush thigh as his lips connect with yours. "You're so soft... so fuckin' perfect."
"Shut up." you laugh, you try to kiss him again but he pulls away.
"I'm serious." he lifts your up your sports bra and tosses it aside, grabbing a handful of your large chest. He pushes you backwards so that your spine is flat against his desk, tugging off your leggings with no hesitation. He peppers kisses across your tender skin. Your thighs, your tummy, your heavy tits. "There's nothin' wrong with your body, y'know? Your ex is a fuckin' pussy."
Your body tenses up, feeling horrendously aware of how exposed your figure is and how he's examining you.
"I- I was too heavy for him." you pant, unsure whether to try and chat casually about it or make a run for your clothes and the exit. "I don't blame him."
"You weigh the same as paper to me, darlin'." he smirks, picking you up and making you wrap your legs around his waist. He slams you against the wall as you makeout heavily. "You want this cock? F-Feel how hard I am for ya?"
"P-Please. You're so big.. please fuck me." you beg. You paw at his shirt, desperate to feel the muscles that you could clearly see beneath.
His facial expression is almost menacing as he knows he's won, he's got you exactly where he wants you and you're begging for his cock. Thick fingers dig into malleable flesh, bruises of his name signed into your skin like a binding contract that you're his new favourite play thing.
"You're so fuckin' perfect, sweetheart. Love cute bodies like yours..." he tells you, staring into your eyes to catch your expression, grinning at the way your cheeks flush and a bead of sweat forms in your hairline.
"Aah! Ah, fuck.. 'h my god..." you moan, the embarrassment overwhelming you and the feeling of his heavy cock splitting you open making your heart race.
He begins a brutal pace, easily holding your body up with one muscular arm as he slams into you, his free hand tweaking your pert nipple. The way your eyes cross dumbly as he ruins your insides almost makes him blow his load on the spot.
"Too— mmmnn.." you moan, unable to form a coherent thought.
"Too what?" he laughs a little, "Too? Have I fucked you so stupid you already can't think? Oh sweetheart... think I'm in love." he tells you as he kisses your neck.
Your fingers scratch his back repeatedly and he can only his from the pain and pleasure of it all. He's happy to be marked by you, he's going to do the same to your insides after all.
"'m gonna cum, I'm— ah—!" your cunt tightens around him as you finish, and soon enough he's pressing his body as much as he can into yours, pinning you between him and the wall as his balls tighten and he paints your desperate, wanting walls.
You pant against each other, neither of you moving for a while. All you can bring yourself to do is catch your breath and stare into his jade coloured eyes. And eventually, he helps you down and offers you a towel before sitting at his desk and checking through his calendar.
"Are you free Friday night?" he asks.
"O-Oh, Toji, I'm too exhausted from that workout to even think about my next training session." you chuckle a little, wiping yourself down before collecting your scattered clothing.
"No, baby, I'm takin' you on a date." he smiles at you earnestly. "Perfect body, perfect pussy, and newly single. You're crazy if you think I'm not taking full advantage of the opportunity to make you mine."
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© 2023 fuwushiguro
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sttoru · 9 months
Note
boob obsessed!gojo please!!
oh absolutelyyyy !
tags. gojo satoru x female reader. breast play, teasing, semi-public, satoru’s v touchy, uhh cum play, mention of blow job, boob job.
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satoru , who you have labelled as one of the most shameless people you have ever dated. you’ve known the guy had a thing for your tits the moment the two of you had gotten intimate.
his big hands were all over the swell of your breasts, long fingers kneading and squeezing the flesh. you can always spot the way his pupils dilate whenever he gets the chance of touching them. if you squint well enough, you might even see him drooling a bit whenever he notices the flesh of your breasts and how it bulges when the two are pressed together. and if it isn’t his hands touching those beautiful tits? it’s his tongue.
“mm, god—need ‘m in my mouth. need to taste those tits of yours, princess. c’mon. lemme suck on those nipples.”
satoru , who’s favourite position to cuddle is when he’s laying on your chest. his head will rest between your breasts, one cheek squished against the flesh and fingers usually tracing the shapes of your tits. if you’re not wearing a bra of some kind, he’ll definitely take the opportunity to tease you and circle one of your nipples through the fabric. he just loves the feeling of making you shiver due to his touches.
also, always finds a way to tell you how he ‘loves how squishy and soft they are’. claims they’re even softer than any plushies you own as well.
satoru , who you’ve caught many times staring down at your breasts whenever you’re wearing something skintight or revealing. he can’t help it, it’s his favourite part of your body. somebody needs to save that man, because he’ll literally get lost in thought and won’t even realise he’s ogling your tits.
if it’s not you catching him staring and playfully scolding him for it, it’s his students (who’d probably be disgusted by their teacher’s behaviour in front of their poor eyes). and yes—even in public, satoru’s a complete fool for you and your figure.
satoru , who loves to suck on your tits one way or another. whenever he’s fucking you, he always prefers a position where your chest is facing him. that way, he can see, touch, squeeze and suck on those breasts of yours. he doesn’t waste a single second and immediately latches onto your nipples, wet tongue gliding over your areola, eyes closed and throat making whiny noises.
one thing that never fails to make him rock hard is when you’re walking around the house without a bra on. for you it’s a simple decision; your bra sometimes gets too suffocating on your body. for satoru on the other hand, it’s impossible to ignore the urges in him once his eyes fall on the shape of your nipples that poke through the fabric of your clothes.
that’s also how you end up with his hands all over you every time. one day it’ll be his hands gliding under your shirt to grope your tits, the other day he’ll be more direct and yank your shirt off, put you on the counter and suck on them like there’s no tomorrow.
“nhhh, stay still— ah, shit.. so fuckin’ good. these things were just beggin’ to get sucked on. hm? ‘sensitive’ you say? even better.”
satoru , who enjoys the way your tits glisten when he’s cumming all over them. he loves to see the white liquid drizzle down the curves, over your nipples down to your stomach. if you’re giving him a blowjob, he’ll probably tap your head softly to signal that he’s about to reach his climax. that way you know that he wants to cum over your tits instead of down your throat.
probably instantly gets hard again at the sight of you covered in his sticky cum.
“mm, look at you, sitting there on your knees with my cum all over those pretty tits. aht aht, don’t move now, need to take a picture of the sight for future use.”
satoru , who turns into a trembling and moaning mess whenever you offer to give him a boob job. he’ll let shaky curse words escape the back of his throat, his hands clutching onto whatever he can find, his head thrown back a little but enough for his eyes to still be able to gaze down at you. he gets so turned on and will probably lose the ability to speak whenever he looks at how his cock is engulfed by your tits.
“jus’ like that, baby— oh fuck! look at those fuckin’ tits, mmh, makes me wanna cover ‘m with my cum so bad— shit, can i? may i?”
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savannahsdeath · 6 months
Note
heyy! this is my first time asking a request but can you do more mafia ellie? i love her sm omg 🤭
MAFIA!ELLIE X READER
mdni please<3
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warnings: 18+!! mentions of ellie not having time for reader;(( finger sucking? cum eating just smut and ellie ending up shoving her fingers in your mouth because .
writers note: inspired by @seattlesellie 's fic though hers about abby 🤭(read it here) .. i found it days ago and just couldnt get this out of my head goshhh and finding it again was so hard !!
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: ̗̀➛ "yeah, good fuckin' job." ellie mumbled in a raspy whisper.
you could see her arm muscles tense as her grip on her phone tightened. you bit your lip and threw your head back, leaning it on her shoulder.
it wasn't supposed to be like that. not at all.
: ̗̀➛ she told you she has a day off - well, she's her own boss, so she could have one any day, but her job is hard to take a break of. there's always some problems or complications. or unexpected calls, like this one. of course, she apologised a hundred times before picking it off (not really, she just murmured a half-assed 'sorry, babe'), but it didn't make it any less annoying.
: ̗̀➛ so you ended up pressed against her chest with legs spread wide open, making room for her right hand, which, much to your surprise, didn't slid out of you.
"ellie—" you let out a desperate mewl, feeling her fingers slow down as her focus shifted to the person on the phone.
she shushed you, planting a loving kiss on your neck, which only added fuel to your neediness.
"i know." she whispered, curling her fingers inside of you to prove her point. she straightened up as if whoever she was talking with could see her previous posture. "uhh, yeah... could you repeat?"
her every move would force a sound out of the back of your throat, every touch of her lips on your neck whenever she wasn't the one speaking left dark marks on your skin. you held onto her hand, digging your nails into her forearm what didn't bother her at all. being silent wasn't easy, it took lots of self-control which disappeared in ellie's presence.
: ̗̀➛ it was even harder when the "good fuckin' job" turned out to be something more like "fucked job". that's when you finally earned her focus. her fingers found the perfect way to calm her down, take some anger out and let her listen to your beautiful moans. you really tried to be quiet, but all you could do is purse your lips, what only muffled all the little whimpers.
"look, if you don't figure it out till tomorrow, you're fucking dead." she hissed, her frustration spreading through her whole body - from head to toes.
you felt the electricity cumulating in her fingers, you felt how mad she was. oh, yes, you felt that.
"i—" you whined, tugging on her arm to get even more of the attention.
"hushh..." she clicked her tongue, turning back to her phone. "i'm not kidding. your wife's gonna get your head as a christmas gift, if i'll feel generous."
every single word that escaped her mouth caused another gasp from you, because you didn't really listen to how harsh her statement was, you just enjoyed her raspy voice which was perfectly sychronised with her fingers. when she spoke slowly, her movement would also slow down, and, oh, how much you wanted to beg her to hang up.
"i don't care— no, shush, shut up." she hissed, but you felt better at the thought of you not being the only one who has to stay quiet now. "i have no idea how you'll do it, but you will, or i swear to god i—" her slim digits digged into you as she kissed your cheek, mumbling a tired; "fuckin' idiots" close to your ear while pulling away.
the man on the phone must start to get nervous, as his pathetic voice was now audible even for you. he kept apologizing and rambling nonsense, though ellie wasn't really interested in his excuses. plus, she had other things to do.
she used the little break as much as she could, pumping her fingers in and out of you and even slightly withdrawing her phone from her ear so she could listen to the sticky, dirty noises. nuzzling her face in your neck, she let out a long hum, either satisfied at the sound or to make the poor man think she cares. maybe both.
eventually, she continued her conversation. not forgetting about a disappointed, dramatic sigh first, of course. "any last wish?" she asked with an obvious smirk.
his voice raised even more, now not only apologizing but begging her for forgiveness. ellie never hurt any of her 'workers', unless they were traitors, so the fact that he took her seriously seemed unusual and, at some point, hilarious.
: ̗̀➛ you were so close, finally, after minutes of this torture - of your satisfaction disappearing for a few seconds just to come back... just to leave again, making your neediness take over. you bit your lip and looked at ellie, plopping your head on the crook of her neck. she felt how fastly and roughly you exhaled against her collarbone, grinning in amusement. you shifted, pressing your back even harder to her chest so you could feel it raising and falling as she breathes. your eyelids fell, making you get lost in a dark maze of every possible sense but sight.
"ellielliellie!" you whined, her name rang out in the dense, cold air.
your voice could be definitely heard on the other side of the phone, though the man didn't even stop his panicked rambling, what probably meant he was too busy to notice it.
she tsked as your throbbing walls clenched around her, her soaked fingers dripping on her palm. the ache which was persistently located somewhere deep in your body, maybe in the core of your bones, and didn't want to let go of you finally subsided. your hands almost unconsciously rested against your sides and as you opened your eyes you could see little moon shapes left on her forearm, where your nails digged into her.
it took you by complete surprise, not giving you time to react - though you wouldn't do anything anyway - before your pornographic moan got cut off with her digits sliding inside of your mouth. your saliva pooled down as your teeth grazed her flesh; salty and,, callous. her palm rested against your chin, forcing you to keep it raised.
"el—luhh" you tried to mumble but it came out as nothing like your girlfriend's name. it was slobbery, unclear and— disgusting.
she turned back to her phone, making you only able to guess what her expression was but she was, without a doubt, smirking. your tongue flopped flat beneath / against her fingers, earning a hum from ellie. as your pouty lips closed around her, her digits moved in deeper, causing you to gag for a second.
"c'mon, you'll live." she rolled her eyes, and you weren't sure which one of you is she talking to now - you, or the man who thinks he fights for his life, when in reality his 'threat' doesn't even listen to him?
your view range was violated by her grip, but you could see how unbothered she was through the corner of your eye. you could feel it - feel that her thighs don't tremble and clench, or that her breath is steady and deep, unlike yours.
as she shoved her fingers almost knuckles deep in your mouth, she spread them as if to gesture scissors and you swore you can read her mind, so you twirled your tongue around them, cleaning them up. your own juices got replaced with just as messy saliva, which small droplets cumulated in the corner of your lips. you couldn't help but suck on her digits, and the action itself made your eyes watery.
"you'll stay silent now, 'kay?" she spoke up in a mocking tone, and you couldn't tell who is she talking to again - no matter which one of you it was, you knew she wasn't asking and you hoped that the man realizes it too.
still, you nodded, making her whole hand follow your movements, what almost felt like she's the one controlling your body's reaction.
"of course you will." she cooed in a serious voice, though there was a different undertone - laced with taunting sweetnes.
✧˖°
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lovelyghst · 4 months
Text
is there a kink for saying “i love you” a lot during sex cause if so kyle garrick 100% has it. he’s so fucking soft and i’m obsessed.
i can just imagine him coming home to his cozy apartment after a longgg day, to his sweet girlfriend who’s never seemed to let him down. recruits defying orders, drills lasting hours longer than originally intended, mounds of unnecessary stress added to his job; it all become obsolete when he lays eyes on you. when you greet him with a huge bear hug and so many kisses at the door, he can practically feel his muscles melt. there’s barely enough time for him to set down his duffle bag and take off his boots before he’s walking you backwards into your shared bedroom, embracing your head in his hands and nearly suffocating you with the return of affection.
he can’t take his time undressing you like he normally does, not when you’re both so eager to feel each other for the first time in so fucking long (like three days). he can’t pay mind to the mess you’re making by peeling his jacket and shirt from his torso and throwing them haphazardly so you can shamelessly cop a feel of his muscles. and he can’t possibly remove his lips from yours as you lay back on your bed and shimmy out of your pants with his help, your sugary giggles reminding him he hasn’t even said a single word since he walked in.
“missed you, love,” he mumbles whilst moving to lean over you, a hand planted beside your shoulder as the other cups your cheek, and now it’s your chance to return the endearment. you repeat his words with a smile and pull him in for yet another kiss, miles different from the previous ones though still equally as desperate.
“missed waking up beside you, feeling your body pressed up against mine… can’t sleep for shit whenever i’m away from you.”
he makes quick but sensual work with kissing down your body, from your neck to the fat of your hip. wet lips leaving their marks along the way, until his impatient fingers slip beneath the band of your panties and pull them down your gorgeous, goosebump-clad thighs.
“missed these pretty tits… ‘nd this perfect, little cunt, fuck…” he breathes. “missed how good my sweetheart tastes, all f’me.”
his murmured words seem foggy, damn-near jumbled as he comes onto you strong. hot tongue lapping at your seam, licking your clit in upward motions like a dirty dog with impeccable manners. you gasp and claw at the nape of his neck, squeeze your thighs and allow your noises to fall freely. you’re so sensitive and he’s already overstimming you despite having just started. he’s been apart from you for long enough; he’s clearly not wasting any more time. “so fuckin’ sweet.”
and he can’t rip himself from that dazed headspace ‘til you’re a panting mess, arching your back into his space. until he gets to feel you finish on his tongue hard, and ride out your high with a selfish grip on his skull, begging for more you know you can’t take.
crawling up your body as you fight to ground yourself through starry vision and a heaving chest, capturing little, vulnerable you in a kiss.
he shushes you through the stretch of his cock, cooing your winces away with quick and chaste kisses plastered everywhere from the corner of your lips to your temple. pausing there for a moment to remind you of how well you’re doing, get you finely adjusted and calmed down a bit before he’s rolling over to his back and bringing you with him, a surprised yelp being pushed from your lungs.
you land on his chest, hands planting themselves on his shoulders to catch you mere inches from his stupidly handsome face. your visual scolding only turns him on more, cocky look never depleting as he wraps his meaty arms around your waist and pulls you oh, so close.
“love you, princess.” he can’t stop tugging you in for more kisses, so much so you’re unable to reciprocate the words. “go ahead ‘nd make up for lost time, yeah? show me how much you missed this, us.”
with that, you try your best to sit up straight as you begin rocking your hips against him. lifting them a bit the more you go on, getting used to the feeling of his thick cock stretching your soft walls out. knocking at the deepest parts of you your fingers could never reach while he’s away, ensuring you go slow to keep it from turning painful.
“that’s it, there ya go, baby. a beautiful sight you are, eh?”
you nod along with whatever he says, getting yourself drunk on him as his big hands paw at your waist. not missing a beat as he pulls you closer, tongue and lips pressing against the center of your chest before spanning out and praising your hard nipples individually.
“you’re doing so good for me, sweetheart. so fuckin’ proud’ve you… fuck, i love you so much,” he can’t help but pant.
“l-love you, too,” your voice trembles, thoughts overwhelmed by the amount of bodily contact and stimulation he gives you. he’d hate to admit how his heart flutters every time he hears you say those words. “love your cock… i love it, kyle— i want more—” you choke.
begging for more despite being fully sheathed on his cock, perched on his lap with full control? christ, he knows what you want instead.
“i know baby, i know what you want. just make me come like this first, ‘n then i’ll fuck you real nice after.” his promises do well enough to spur you on to keep going, turning your little pout into a grin.
you nearly fall to shambles when one of his hands slides down from your ribcage and falls to where the two of you meet. his thumb reaching your sensitive clit whilst the rest of his fingers and palm presses up against your lower tummy, applying pressure.
“love my pretty girl… this perfect pussy wrapped ‘round my cock.” his other hand rubs up and down your back until he’s forced to drag it back to your hip and aid your movements when you begin slowing, due to both the added pleasure as well as the stinging in your thighs.
he refuses to relent in chasing his high, and neither does his thumb on your clit to push you overboard. giving him all those telltale signs, every nerve in your body responding to finally being back with your beloved partner, and he brashly seeks it out. “y’gonna come, baby?”
you don’t have the lungs nor will to tell him before it’s happening, and you’re squeezing down on his cock with a loud moan as your brain and body goes numb atop him. he wraps both arms tightly around your waist to catch you when you fall into his neck and shoulder, lifting you on and off his cock like a pliant toy to guide you past your extensive orgasm as well as aid his own impending one.
“shit— princess, ‘m gonna come…” he warns you, and your body responds with constricting down on him impossibly tighter.
you feel so good around him, so fucking perfect, and he just…
“i love you. i love you, i love you, i love you—” he murmurs right up against your temple, holding your hips down as he finishes deep inside you. a low, broken moan contrasting your complacent hums at the feeling of his hot cum warming your tummy, pulling him in tight with your arms wrapped around his neck so securely.
taking a minute to breathe and recollect, revel in being back with the one you care so much for. peppering kisses all over his cheekbone as you repeat his lovely mantra.
you’re left exhausted as he cards his fingers through the roots of your hair and he holds your head close, rough and deadly hands gentle for once. he eventually mumbles, “did so good for me, love. you tired?”
you nod against his shoulder with a sleepy hum, and he chuckles faintly. maneuvering you to look him in the eyes, sharing a kiss once more before he’s slipping a hand up your spine and flipping you over to tenderly lay you on your back with spread legs.
sitting upright to fist his soaked cock that’s still just as hard, right in front of your drooling pussy leaking his pearly cum. his jaw would be at his sternum in admiration if it weren’t for his trained self-control.
he takes a moment to smile down at his pretty mess, admiring that confused look in your hazy eyes. “i made you a promise, didn’t i?”
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queers-gambit · 1 month
Text
Let the Bodies Hit the Floor
prompt: what happens when Tangerine's little lady is targeted in their home?
pairing: Tangerine x female!reader
fandom masterlist: Bullet Train
word count: 9.1k+
note: this got away from me. like wtf is this plot, Cherry?
warnings: author still runs with Tangerine's name being Aaron and Lemon's being Brian. inspired by GIF, established relationship, Russian Mafia vibes, physical violence / assault, blood, character injury, small angst, mostly hurt and comfort, Tan and Lem standing on business.
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The skirt of the designer dress fanned around your thighs when you turned swiftly from the stovetop to a separate counter in order to collect the chopped vegetables. Light music filled the space between the sizzling of different dishes cooking, bare feet sticking to the linoleum floor of the kitchen.
"Right," your sweetheart, Aaron, announced as he jogged down the glass stairs while fixing his cuff link, entering the shared space, "know I hate t'do this, love, but I promise we won't be long."
You smirked, "Uh-huh, and where have I heard that before? Oh! That's right, when you - "
"Oi, oi, oi, you know I ain't mean to disappear in fuckin' Kyoto for 6 weeks, love," he repeated in exasperation, "please, stop holdin' that against me."
"I'm not," you sang in a singsong voice, dropping the vegetables to the stir fry you were preparing, "but you know, you say you won't be long, and then you disappear for random amounts of time."
"You know why," he sighed, buttoning his suit jacket as he closed the distance between you, "and you know it ain't my choice."
"Yeah, yeah, job first, girlfriend second."
"Not even close t'what my priorities are," he smirked, snatching your hand to twirl you around and tug you closer to face him. You grinned up at him, hands landing on his chest; letting his arms lock around you to keep you pressed against his impeccably sculpted body. "You look so beautiful tonight," he whispered, eyes flickering over you, "just love you in this dress. Could ravish you right here, right now."
"Yeah?" You cooed, "Recognize it?"
"Hm, feels rather expensive," he pet around your hips and waist, cheekily moving them around to grip both arse cheeks; causing you to gasp lightly, "thinkin' I must've gotten it for yah. Huh?"
"From Paris last month," you chuckled.
"Ah, yeah, I remember. Lemon was right hacked off we spent so much time shoppin', but no way was I gonna come home without something for yah." He sniffled and patted one hand in a gentle smack on your bottom, continuing, "Now, listen, sweetheart, I know tonight's real important to yah, so, I promise, Lemon and I will be back before the main course, yeah?"
You tisked, "Don't fucking call him that, you know I hate it."
"Apologies, lovely girl. Listen, I won't have my phone on, so, you need me, call Brian - "
"'If I need you'? See, now it's sounding like you're gonna disappear again, Aaron," you complained. "What the hell's this job anyway?"
"Nah, don't worry 'bout nothin'," he promised, "'cause we'll be back in time for your li'l dinner party."
"You know tonight's important for us - both of us!"
His eyes rolled, "Yes, yes, t'finally get your father's approval, right?"
"More like my whole family," you reminded with a roll of your eyes. "Goddamnit, I knew you weren't gonna take this seriously - "
"No, hey," he soothed, squeezing his hands to gently jostle you into silence, "tonight's very important to me, darlin'. I swear it, yeah? We'll be back in time, promise you."
"Good, you better."
"But in case, call Brian - "
"Aaron!"
He grinned, watching your own lips spread, "Jesus Christ, can't take a joke no more, can yah?"
"Maybe on less important days."
"Duly noted." The apartment's buzzer sounded, your boyfriend sighing, "Right, then. That'd be Lem - aht, ahem, Brian." He frowned, "Feel bad skippin' out on yah like this, but duty calls, baby."
"Mhm," you hummed, lifting on your toes to peck his lips. "Just be careful, please."
"I always am."
"You literally crashed a Bullet Train into an entire village - "
"Told yah, that was the Ladybug twat!"
"You also got shot! A centimeter to the side and you'd have bled out your fucking jugular."
"Again, the Ladybug twat."
"Potato, po-ta-toe."
Aaron chuckled, kissing you again, his mustache tickling your skin; groaning in annoyance when the buzzer sounded again - but for a prolonged time. "All right," he pulled back only to peck your lips again, "I'm off but I'll be back real soon. Yeah?"
"Yeah."
"Good without me?"
"I have to be," you teased, petting the lapels of his suit jacket and readjusting his tie. "Go, before you give your brother a fucking aneurism."
"Right," he chirped, pecking your forehead with a loud smooch. Swiftly, Aaron reached over to pluck a carrot from the wok, hissing from the heat, "oh, hot, hot, hot!" You swatted his bottom as he stepped away, eating the veggie, knowing you hated when he sampled your cooking while in the midst of actually cooking. "Mh! Tastes divine, sweetheart, maybe a bit more garlic. Love you!" He called over his shoulder, dropping a quick wink.
"Love you," you repeated, smiling; feeling lucky in love. You watched him go; his curls slicked back, classic navy blue suit on to make the crisp white button-up stand out, his shiny dress shoes winking at you. With a sigh, you focused again on prepping an admirable meal for the evening, planning on hosting both your divorced parents, their partners, and three older siblings.
Obviously, as the youngest kid, any and everyone you dated fell under heavy scrutiny.
The plan was to shmooze them into accepting Aaron as your lover, something your father and eldest brother were specifically vehemently against. But you weren't a little girl anymore, they couldn't dictate who you loved, but you could do your part to make your contract killer boyfriend more appealing to your kin. Easier said than done, but tonight was about at least trying.
So, you cooked a series of dishes to present on the grand dining table your boyfriend had furnished your apartment with, yet never utilized. Humming to the music, you hopped around the cooking space, and about an hour later, the apartment's buzzer was sounding in an obnoxious echo.
Dusting your hands off, you rushed to the comms system and pressed the big green button that unlocked the door building's front door. You left the door to your flat unlocked for easier access, rushing back to the kitchen to finish plating dinner. Not a minute later, the door opened and in walked your family; bottle of wine in your father's hand and a bouquet of flowers in your mother's.
Your father, Edward, had his newest wife on his arm; in the tallest heels you ever saw and a dress made of sequins, being far too short for this kind of event.
You mother, Linda, powered walked ahead of everyone with her boytoy of the month kept a close distance to the matriarch. He was probably just a few years older than you - but you were dating a contract killer agent, there was no room for judgement.
Your eldest brother, Robert, or better known as Bobby, entered with an aurora of arrogance; instantly looking around and judging your home unfairly. You sister, Mabel, just looked stony and stoic; completely bored of that night already. Lastly, your brother older by just a single year, Jonathan, or John, or John Boy, followed behind your siblings, wearing a thick gold chain against a classless wife beater.
"Oh, I'm so glad you made it!" You squealed, opening your arms and practically skipping close to greet your parents and their partners. "About time, don't you think?" You smiled at your father, hugging him first and kissing his cheek.
"Well... Guess better late than never," he begrudgingly agreed. "You remember my wife, Crystal?"
"Of course," you tried to politely smile and offered the fake-blonde a greeting kiss to her cheek, "lovely to see you again."
"Thanks for the invite," her tired voice drawled; indicating she'd rather be literally anywhere else.
"Mum," you moved along, hugging and kissing her cheek, too. "You're look fit."
"Thank you," she sighed.
Looking to her boyfriend, you greeted, "Thanks for coming, Keith - "
"It's Toby."
You blinked, "Huh?"
"Name's Toby," he explained.
"Right, right, Toby, my fault," you apologized, ignoring the look he sent your mother as you greeted Bobby, Mabel, and John Boy.
After, your father stiffly asked, "So? Where is he? This boyfriend you want us all t'like so much, huh? Not even out here to greet us?"
"Running an errand, but he and his brother will be back for dinner."
Bobby scoffed, "So, we do all this for him and he's not even home? Wow... Real stand-up guy, innit he?"
"You're also here to see me, aren't you?"
"We see enough of you, we're here for your dumbass boyfriend you're so enamored with that you missed Christmas last year."
"Bobby," you warned, taking your mother's flowers and heading back into the open-concept kitchen to locate a vase and fill it with water. "You're gonna play nice tonight or I'm gonna be really pissed," you warned your family, "and I'll cancel the New Years trip."
"Woah, hang on," your sister, Mabel, interjected, "let's not be hasty, the night's only just beginning - no need for threats."
"I know," you smirked at her, "it's called incentive."
"Truly your father's daughter," you mother scoffed and rolled her eyes. Edward just mocked her and handed over the wine bottle; making your mother snip, "No drinks to offer us? Not a very diligent hostess, are you, darling?"
Her sickly sweet tone gave you a cavity, but this was simply how your mother behaved when around her ex-husband - all passive aggressive and holier than thou.
You pointed, "There's an entire cart behind you, there. Help yourself."
"Hm," she hummed, nodding, turning to make herself a hefty bourbon with Toby right behind her.
"Um," Crystal hummed, "do you have seltzers?"
You almost laughed but managed not to, "No, no, just win and whatever liquor's on the cart."
"It's a nice place you've got, love, if not overly expensive," Linda cut off anything Crystal might've said; complimenting you stiffly, looking around as the amber liquid was poured, "bit empty, though, innit? I don't see one single family photo, not a personable damn thing."
"Oh, well, Aaron and I just like the minimalistic aesthetic," you deflected; the truth being, Aaron was constantly on the move for his job, there was no real time or reason to decorate the flat. You began transporting the large dishes on the kitchen counters to the table, your other brother, John, springing into action to help.
To say it was awkward was the simplest way to put it. After pouring herself a second drink, Linda started to trade insults with Edward; both telling the other how pathetic it is to find younger lovers. Mabel rolled her eyes but listened carefully, ever the quiet mouse who opted to observe rather than be seen. Bobby was snooping through anything he could get a hand on; attempting to know Tangerine without outright meeting him yet. John Boy didn't care this way or that, happy to just be involved and set the table for you.
"Chow's on!" You announced, leading everyone to the table and take whatever seat they liked.
"You know," Bobby started, "think it's a bit weird."
"What is?" You asked, handing Mabel the steamed sticky rice.
Bobby gestured around, "The whole thing. I mean, I'm almost tempted to believe you've made this Aaron character up. What kinda man skips out on a family meal like this?"
"A man who has a very demanding job," you snapped, the table still passing dishes around to take their fill. "I didn't ask you guys here to fucking harp on him, I asked you to just give him a chance and get to know him."
"Why should we even bother?"
"Because he's important to me!"
"You honestly think this is gonna last?" Bobby scoffed, shaking his head and passing the vegetables.
"Of course I do, I know how strong my relationship is. What the hell do you expect me to say, do, think, or feel if Aaron and I get married, and my family's feuding with the groom - "
"I beg your pardon?" Edward snapped, making the table go silent. "You're gonna marry this bloke?"
"No, Daddy, he hasn't proposed or anything, but we have been together almost 7 years" you explained. "I just used it as an example. Aaron's going to be in my life for a long time, I'd really appreciate everyone getting along."
"I think that's reasonable," Crystal smiled.
"Oh, shove it, nobody asked you," Linda sneered.
"Could you maybe not be a raging bitch for five minutes?" Edward snapped, dropping the cutlery with a loud clatter. "Don't talk to her like that - "
"The trollop doesn't get an opinion on family affairs!"
"Now that we're married," he held up his left hand, golden band visible, "she does get an opinion. It's your newest toy that shouldn't talk!"
"I didn't even say anything, mate," Toby scoffed.
"I'm not your 'mate', silly boy - "
The table erupted in a busy and loud argument, you slumping back into your chair; listening to your siblings attempt to resolve the feud. You thanked yourself for making the conscious decision to have this little dinner party at home instead of a restaurant; knowing Linda and Edward were never able to resist a good screaming match, even if in public. You sipped your wine mutely, eyes darting back and forth between either sides of the table.
However, they were silenced when there came a pounding at your front door. Three distinct, punctuated knocks of a fist, your mind instantly jumping to thinking it was the police - nobody else knocked like that. You went rigid instantly, brow furrowing, your father asking, "Expecting more company, honey?"
"No," you shook your head, already out of your seat and heading for the door - when suddenly - it was kicked in. Your scream was shrill from shock. The force of the violent entry splintered the doorframe; knob colliding with drywall, indenting it from the jarring movement. You yelped in shock, trying to back up, but there came a flood of armed men that instantly rushed you. You were only briefly aware of chairs scraping on hardwood floor as your family leapt up in shock.
Long gone was the argument, your family mutually screaming in fear.
These intruders yelled in Russian, fanning out to gather you and your family in harsh grips; shoving everyone into the living room. You were forced to sit down, at least one armed man posted for each of you, the others spreading out and searching the flat.
"What's happening? What the hell is happening!?" Mabel squeaked through her huffy breath, the men exchanging a few words before one stepped forward with his gun drawn at the ready. "Please, there's some mistake! Please, please, why are you - what is happening!? You can't do this! We only - "
"You," one of the intruders spoke with a heavy accent and a thick, pointed finger, "quiet." From his utility belt, the Russian produced several zip ties, demanding, "Hands. Hands, together! Now! You understand, eh!? Hands! Your hands! Now! Right now!"
Another henchman barked in Russian, telling you to comply or things would get messy. "Just do what they say," you whispered, pressing your wrists together and presenting them. They were secured tightly, your parents, their partners, and siblings enduring the same, and by the time the last zip was tied, the other henchmen returned.
You identified what was reported: "He's not here, no trace where he went."
"No, hmmm," mused the man obviously in charge, "well, that's all right, his girlfriend is right here." Your eyes widened as the Russian turned to look at you with a sadistic smirk. "Heard he's real protective of you, likes you a lot. Huh? Heard he once broke a man's collarbone for just looking at you - must be very important, yeah. What do you think he will do when he finds you - ruined?"
"You're not gonna do anything," you seethed between gritted teeth, "because you know he'd kill you all. Now, there's been no harm done so far, so there's time to walk away and I'll guarantee he or his brother won't come after you."
The Russian chuckled, "Oh-ho! Hear that, boys? Good old Tangerine's domesticated now. Takes orders from his bitch, and boy, she likes to bark!" Other henchmen chuckled, a few picking at the abandoned dinner. "I think it's time we send him our message, no?" The leader grinned to his men, earning a chorus of agreement.
Your eyes widened when the man lunged forward and yanked you to your feet, yellowed teeth gnashing in your face. "Whole family can watch!" Another intruder barked, curating a wave of laughter, "Call it, uh, bonding? Trauma bonding?"
"Oh, I like that," the leader of the kill squad grinned.
You gasped when the Russian balled his fist and socked you directly in the diaphragm; winding you, bending you at the waist, and giving him the vantage point to rocket his fist upwards into your nose. There was a sickly snap, you whimpering when a different Russian shoved you from behind and forced you to your knees; three different men joining the relentless and savage beating. You were kicked, punched, breaking several bones, being spat on, shoved over, and made to bleed your own blood. Though you hadn't wanted to, wanting to appear strong and unfazed, you cried out when the pain became too much; heaving for breath and praying the next kick to the head was enough to knock you unconscious.
But you weren't so lucky and wishful thinking was simply that: wishful, not applied or actual. Your family begged and pleaded for mercy, flinching when you spat blood on numerous occasions; shoes squeaking when they stepped in the globs. Everyone helpless and powerless in the current predicament, no hero to swoop in and save the day; your family knowing they were yelling into thin air and their words fell upon deaf ears. They could only watch and listen as you took the brunt end of three angry Russian's brute strength.
The leader had lit up a cigarette, watching his men physically assault you with an air of entertainment and aloofness. This went on for several long, agonizing minutes; you eventually going limp. "Hm," he waved his hand through the smoke, inhaling nicotine, "enough, boys, that's enough. She gets it, she gets we mean business." His men complied and backed away from you, letting the leader kneel at your head on blood-smeared hardwood floor. "You tell Tangerine and Lemon who did this, huh? Yeah? You tell them for me."
You spat blood in the Russian's face, smirking in satisfaction when it hung off his nose in a humiliating display of your stubbornness.
"Ah, I see," he wiped the blood clear, regarding it on his hand before bare-knuckle punching your head back into the ground. You were instantly dazed, groaning, the man continuing, "Now that you got that out of your system, you will remember my name. Huh? Ivan, yes? You remember that? Ivan. Fucking Ivan Kostka, you tell Tangerine and Lemon Ivan Kostka did this."
"The fuck does it matter who you are!?" You whimpered, eyes burning and being kept screwed tight. "You're a deadman walking, nobody cares about your fucking name except whoever inscribes your tombstone."
"Because your fruity boyfriend and his twin took something very valuable from me," the Russian leered, "and I have come to collect it back into my possession. You tell them, Ivan did this to you. I want them to know they are not untouchable - not to me. Not to my men. Tangerine can try to protecting you all he wants, but there will always be a time and place to act." Then, he laughed, "Know how easy it was for us to get here? Huh? Bit too easy, I admit. See, we picked up Tangerine's trail and followed him here. All we had to do was be patient for our opportunity."
"Who the fuck is Tangerine?" John was heard whispering to the others, a series of shrugs replying. The Russian gave a new command and several men divided to use their weapons to wreck the flat you called home; tearing up pillows, smashing spider-web cracks to the windows, tossing plates and mugs, overturning a bookcase, throwing expensive crystal glasses to watch the shards scatter.
Ivan continued to explain, "Your stupid fucking family talk so loud, eh, it is miracle they are not in witness protection, huh? We see them at your door, and when you opened for them, oh, it was easy to, ehhh, just follow them inside. Yeah? And now, here we are," he smirked. "I am sorry about this, though. You've such a pretty face, I almost don't want t'taint it," he pet a finger down your bloodied cheek.
"Go to hell!" You hissed.
"Oh, I will be when the Reaper comes for me. Remember, tell Tangerine it was Ivan... Ivan Kostka did this," he gestured to your tattered form, "and that I want my Faberge Egg and little sister back or this will get a lot worse for everyone involved."
You coughed as the man stood, whistling sharply and commanding his men to follow. The moment they were gone, as your family erupted in panicked screams, Mabel raced for the kitchen and snatched up a knife from the counter. Returning, your sister carefully uncut everyone's ties, your mother gasping and dropping to her knees when freed.
"What have you gotten us into, you stupid girl!?" She cried, massaging her constricted wrists.
You manage to mumble before passing out, "Call Brian."
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Tangerine and Lemon had been on their own stakeout, tracking a gang of Russians accused of money laundering. He had forgotten to put his phone on the charger the night before, it dying and being left behind at his flat; so when there came a vibration, he knew it was Lemon's phone.
He hate the sound of the vibrations in the cupholder. "Oi, gonna fuckin' answer that?" Tangerine snapped, staring out the windshield.
"Uh, bruv?" Lemon turned the phone for Tan to see, guessing, "It's for you, I'm sure." The contact name displayed your home number.
Tangerine sighed and accepted the call with it on speaker, "Yeah, hello? Love? That you?"
"A-Aaron?"
"Linda?" Tan questioned in curiosity, hearing your mother's soft sob. "What's goin' on? What's wrong? Why're you calling? Where's Y/N?"
"Th-There's been an accident."
"What kind of accident?"
"The kind that involve angry Russians looking for some egg and someone's little sister? I don't know - "
"Oh, fuck me! Don't move, we're on our way," he rushed, hanging up. "Oi, fuck this, mate, get us back home," he barked at his brother, "we gotta get back now. Like right fucking now!"
"We can't just - "
"What? Leave our post?" Tan snapped. "Brian, you know where we are right now?"
He glanced outside, "Uh... Little Italy?"
"Fuckin' wanker," Aaron snapped. "No, this shipping yard is owned by the Kostka's - Russian crime family. You heard Linda, means the tip tonight was a set up t'get us away from the flat. They probably moved while we were absent. Now, c'mon, fucking hustle!"
Lemon connected the dots and started the engine, peeling away at a dangerous speed to navigate the city back to the high-rise apartment you and Tan shared. He couldn't explain why, but Tangerine could feel his heart in his throat; a sick feeling taking over at the thought of the Russians setting this entire thing up.
Why send he and Lemon to stakeout the shipping yard? Why remove them from the equation?
Upon arriving at the shattered front door, both men in pressed clothes came to a jarring halt, taking in the sight. The flat was a wreck, literal feathers from pillows still floating in the air, their dress shoes cracking over shattered glass.
Tan caught sight of your hunched body sitting on the couch. "Right, the fuck is this, then?" He demanded, striding up to where your family had surrounded you. "The hell happened? Swear t'God, I'll put a bullet... In... Whoever..." He trailed, pausing when he saw your state. Tangerine slowly squatted in front of you, gently trying to coax your chin up, "Lemme see, darlin', c'mon, c'mon, lemme see, c'mere."
When you met his baby blues, you could only watch as tears filled them - knowing they'd never fall. "I'm sorry," you whispered, throat soar from the beating; making you sound a lot hoarser than ever before.
"For what? You did nothing, love, nothing - couldn't have deserved this, now could yah?" He rushed to comfort, caressing your jaw in both hands to look you over. There was a long gash in your hairline that dripped racing drops of blood down your face. "This is my fault, I know it is, God fucking damn it. Who the fuck did this? Hey? You remember, darling? Remember anythin' 'bout these men?" But you were silent from shock. So, he addressed the room by barking, "Does anyone? What the hell happened here, tonight!?"
Your father cleared his throat before knocking back the last swig of his whiskey. "These Russian fuckers," Ed answered. "Big lot of 'em, too, all with scary lookin' tattoos and fucking guns. Some were automatic." He eyed your boyfriend, "Associates of yours?"
"Fucking hell," Tangerine looked up at his brother, "think they want the Faberge back?"
Lemon frowned, "Possibly, but that's only if - "
"Ivan," you whispered suddenly, Tangerine and Lemon both looking back at you in mild shock. "He said his name was Ivan and he wanted you two t'know there was no hiding from him. He wants back whatever it is you two took."
"Yeah, they want the fucking Egg," Tangerine's jaw flexed as he glared at the floor, sighing deeply, and then looking back at you. "Hey," he whispered, "I'm just glad you're alive and well-enough. Yeah? You're my priority, sweetheart, nothing else matters."
You sniffled, "I'm okay."
"Like hell you are," he shook his head, gently prodding around your bruised face and sighing, "look at yah. You're definitely not okay, sweetheart. Right, then, listen, we'll go to a safe house for the time being - "
"A what?" John asked incredulously.
"A safe house," Lemon repeated, "you know? Somewhere not on record to let us hide discreetly?"
"I know what it is - but why go?"
"Can't stay here, mate, it's compromised," Tan answered with a hardened tone. "Now, you gonna fuckin' stand there, questioning me, or go be useful and get ready to leave?"
"Tan," his brother offered softly, "lay off, they just watched our girl get the shit kicked outta her."
Tan nodded and looked back at you, "Yeah, all right, sorry, love, just a bit on edge. But I'm gonna fix this - "
Robert (or Bobby, he's also known as), scoffed a sarcastic laugh, arms crossed, approaching you and Tangerine. "You takin' the piss? Your fuckin' job is leadin' men t'my sister, breakin' in her own home, givin' her a beatin' meant for you, yah fuckin' twat! Yet that's all you got to say to us? That you're on edge?"
"What'chu want, then, bruv?" Tan snapped, standing to face Bobby. "Huh? Call it an occupational hazard, but just 'cause you wanna bring it up, know that we ain't never had no situation like this before. All right? Excuse us for tryna piece it best together."
"My fuckin' sister's still bleedin', and you're, what? Makin' it up as you go?" Bobby snarled. "You owe us a plan! Somethin'! Fuckin' anythin'! How the fuck are you gonna rectify this situation?"
Tan's mouth opened, ready to retort.
"All right, all right, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, hey, no, no, quit it, cut it out, yah fucking ninnies!" Lemon stepped between them and forced distance between the two men. "That shit ain't gonna help us right now. We all need to think clearly, so let's try not to wind one another up. Yeah? Fair?"
"Fuck you," Bobby spat, "fuck the both of yahs, you're both responsible! Puttin' my sister in harms way! Fuckin' look at her!" He snarled and pointed, "Shakin' like a fuckin' leaf!"
"Yeah, all right, you what, mate?" Tan sneered.
"I'm not your mate."
"I'll just fuckin' handle this on my own - "
"Like hell you are," His brother interrupted. "They fucked with our family, ain't nowhere for them to hide."
Tangerine nodded, then asked, "How many men were here would you say? Ballpark number." It was quiet. "Someone better answer me!"
Linda sneered, "Some 12 or 15 men, most of whom carried assault rifles. Anything you wanna tell us, Aaron? Huh? Why were these men searching for you? What'd you do that was so bad, they hurt my little girl?"
Your boyfriend nodded and looked to his brother, stiffly nodding and stoically demanding, "Let's get fuckin' Biblical, then, yeah?"
Brian clicked his tongue and winked at his brother in agreement, Crystal handing you a bag of frozen peas to hold against your head.
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"You're sure it's safe?" You whispered, holding onto your boyfriend like a crutch as you exited the elevator.
"They didn't want our protection, love, 'cause the Russians are after us," Tan answered. "Easy does it," he whispered, opening the door to the safe 'house' he and Lemon kept in downtown London - not terribly far from your actual flat. "At's a good girl, slowly - slowly," he kept one arm around you, the other holding the door for Lemon, who carried several duffels. "Right, see? Nice, ain't it?"
You nodded, still relatively drugged from the hospital you just left. After begging them to come with you, your family outright refused, saying Tangerine and Lemon were bad news and they wanted no part in whatever bullshit was happening; even though it meant leaving you alone. So, Lemon packed up the flat while Tan took you to the hospital, meeting again at the skyscraper that doubled as a fortress.
"Here we are," he sighed, lowering you to the couch; left wrist in a cast, a brace on your ankle, concussion, bandages and gauze stuck to random open wounds that required stitches. "Right," he knelt in front of you, "you saw the lobby, yeah? Ain't nobody gettin' in here without clearance, you're safe. Yeah?" He pushed a strand of hair from your face, hating how it was still crisp from dried blood.
"Okay," you whispered with a nod.
Aaron sighed, "I'm so sorry, love."
"Not your fault."
"But it is," he frowned, "'s all my fuckin' fault."
"Did you really take a Faberge Egg?"
"It's what our employer wanted, so... Yeah. Apparently, it was a right dime piece, thought lost in one of the wars. Very exclusive - "
"Most expensive Egg made," Brian added, dropping a couple of the duffels. "And it's not in our possession anymore, love."
"Fuck would we do with Faberge?" Aaron rolled his eyes.
"Hock it," his brother answered, bringing grocery bags into the kitchen and setting them on the counters.
"And the sister?" You asked, eye once being nearly swollen shut now just red and irritated; looking at him with profound sadness. "What happened to Ivan's sister?"
Aaron sighed, wiping a hand down his face, "She was placed in witness protection, she's an informant f'MI6 and Interpol. They want her 'cause she's been spillin' secrets, gettin' business all topsy-turvy."
"They wanna kill her?"
"Seems so," he nodded, smoothing his hands over both your thighs, "but don't you worry 'bout nothin', yeah? We'll handle this."
"How?"
"We've got a couple calls to make," he alluded, standing to his full height but bending at the waist to kiss your forehead gently. "Try to rest, love, we'll be here a bit."
You nodded and watched him stride out of the living room, grabbing one of the duffel bags Lemon had dropped and brought it to the glass dining room table. He ripped it open as you sunk into the plush fabric of the pillows, but perked up when Brian came into sight. "Here, darling," he set a mug of tea to the granite coffee table in front of you, "just a bit of something for your nerves, yeah? You all right? Need anything? A pain pill, maybe? You look uneasy."
"I'm all right," you promised, trying to smile, but it came out as a grimace.
"Mhm," he sent you a look, grabbing the pharmacy bag. "Don't be a hero, just keep yourself afloat. Here," he handed you a little, round, white pill and the tea. "Bottoms up, huh?"
You half-chuckled and did what he said, settling again as he grabbed a blanket and tossed it over you. "How often are you two here?" You asked.
"Ah, usually when we're doin' recon," he answered, handing over the remote. "All the streamin' you could want," he winked, pointing at the TV.
"Oi, mate," your boyfriend called, "thinkin' we should call Kiwi?"
"To stay with her?" He asked, caressing the top of your head affectionately; grabbing another duffel and meet his brother at the table. The London Eye was visible from the window, creating a picturesque scene.
"Yeah," Tan answered, "she's good company, ain't she? Handy with a gun. Usually shoots first, asks questions later."
Brian shrugged, "Couldn't hurt. But I think we need t'call Moss... See what he and The Agency can tell us 'bout Ivan."
"On it," Aaron agreed, rapidly typing on a nondescript laptop. But he paused suddenly, looking up and asking, "You gave her a pain pill?"
"Yeah."
"She should eat with it..."
"I'm right here, you know!" You snapped. "I can hear you!"
"I know, doll, sorry," Aaron sighed, going to the kitchen and grabbing you trail mix - knowing opioids gave you the munchies. "Here, love, just wanna make sure you stay all right," he handed the bag over, dropping to the spot beside you with a heavy sigh. "Listen, uh, we're gonna have some of the lads come over t'help."
"Who?"
"Well, Kiwi's a lass, but she works with us sometimes. She's handy t'have 'round inna pinch. That all right?"
"I'm not one for much company right now," you frowned.
"Nah, don't worry, she'll entertain herself," he chuckled slightly, eyes darting around to take in your appearance. In a low whisper, he breathed, "I'm so sorry this happened."
"You've said that," you half-smiled, placing an M&M at his lips. He accepted the treat. "We knew something was bound to happen eventually, right?"
"Not like this, this ain't acceptable," he shook his head. "Lookit, Ivan's one of them nasty fuckers, traffics narcotics into the country using a series of shipping yards. He's got a whole army at his fingertips, plenty of money t'sustain an all out war if he wants."
"When was the last time you dealt with this guy?"
Lemon joined you two, sitting on the other side of the L-shaped couch. He worked on the laptop now, but sent a look to Aaron that begged him to lie. But often, Tangerine never could to you, so, he told the truth, "Last we saw him was some 6 years ago."
Your head cocked, "That's when we first started dating."
"Yeah," he smirked, stretching his arm around you to bring you in close for both your comforts. "Remember that week you couldn't get ahold of me? I told yah I was on some bloody fishing trip?"
"Mhm."
"We were in Colombia, fuckin' up part of his operation."
Your eyes widened, "Colombia? You mean, this Russian's in league with South America? The cocaine capital of the world?"
"Yeah," he sighed, "but it's taken him apparently this long to get shit straightened out - else he would've come sooner."
"Or he was waitin' until our guard was down," Brian chimed in, rapidly tapping on the laptop. "Intel says... Ivan's been in the country 'bout 3 months."
"And before that?"
"Uh... Looks like... Ah, fuckin' hell, he was in Spain, Portugal, Nicaragua, even fuckin' Trinidad."
"Sounds like he's made some friends," Tangerine frowned. You nestled a little closer, his arm contracting to squeeze you tight. "Send word t'Kiwi and Moss, ask Moss t'bring only The Jailbird."
"Who the fuck - you know what? I don't want t'know," you whispered.
"The Jailbird is a brutal fucker," Lemon chuckled, typing faster, "took out an entire fright train by himself with a single shotgun and only a couple rounds of ammo."
"Brian," Tan warned, shaking his head.
"What? 'S not like she's gonna say shit, you picked the most loyal girl in the world," he grinned, winking at you. "Right, love?"
"Mhm."
"That pain pill kicking in yet?"
"Not yet," you yawned.
"Right," your lover chuckled, handing over the mug of tea, "we've got some work t'do, you sit tight. Need somethin', anythin', just ask. Please," he frowned, "don't try t'get up."
"All right," you whispered, lifting your chin slightly with intent. He smiled and met you the rest of the way, pressing a gentle kiss to your split lips.
The lads went back to the glass table, setting up a network of tools and technology, muttering to one another as they did what they knew to gather as much information as possible.
About an hour later, there was a knock at the door that made you flinch. "It's all right," Tangerine rushed, but pulled his gun in hand, "probably Kiwi - "
"It's me, fuckers!" A female called from the other side.
Your boyfriend checked through the peephole and sighed, holstering his gun and opening the door. "Kiwi," he greeted.
"Tangerine," she rolled her eyes, strolling into the flat with her arms full of food. "I brought lunch! Know you fuckers aren't payin' attention to time and shit. Oh!" She grinned when she saw you, "Oh, my word, you're her! Wow, you're even prettier in person! You know, Aaron's told me all about you - "
"Fuck off," Tan snapped.
"Fuck you," she sent right back, "been askin' t'meet your lady for years now, now I finally get to."
"I wish it were under better circumstances," you offered softly, watching the lass with stark white hair round into the living room to set coffee cups and paper bags down.
"Oh, hi, hello, you gorgeous girl," she grinned, sitting next to you and hugging you softly. You were shocked, eyes wide, but hugged her back. "Oh, it's real nice to meet yah, heard all about'cha!"
"Really?" You asked when she pulled back, "'Cause I didn't know a thing about you until an hour ago."
"Makes sense," her eyes rolled, "them two never talk 'bout shit. Makes 'em good agents, but shit lovers. Huh?"
"I'd have to disagree," you smiled softly, defending your love.
"Yeah," she grinned, "knew I'd like you. Lemon!" She greeted in a cheer, standing swiftly to set one coffee cup out for you and take the rest over to the table.
"Hi, Key," he chuckled, offering her a hug. "Lookin' fit, aren't yah?"
"Just got back from a 6 month stint in the DR," she nodded.
"R&R or mandatory?"
"Rehab," she shrugged casually, "but not for me."
"Makes no bloody sense," Tan rolled his eyes.
"I was there, cozyin' up t'fucking Francisco Juarez."
"No fuckin' shit," Lemon laughed. "How was that?"
"The man's mental, but shit, he's got some balls of steel."
"Jesus Christ," Tan groaned. "Can we focus, please? Where's Moss? Anyone heard from him?"
"Mh," Kiwi nodded, swallowing a mouthful of coffee as you gingerly reached for your own; trying not to strain the shattered ribs you earned. "He called me on my way here, said he was on his way, just had to pick something up."
Lemon and Tangerine shared a look as Kiwi practically skipped back over to you. She happily struck up a conversation, telling you all about how she first met Aaron and Brian on some recon mission in Moscow - the three apparently all tracking Ivan. So, no wonder she was asked to assist on this little mission.
The man named Moss arrived not long after, dropping another duffel in the foyer and silently approaching Tangerine and Lemon. Kiwi waved the behavior off, whispering, "That's one of the bosses. Not a man of many words, just a man of action, yeah?"
You nodded in understanding, accepting the Tylenol she handed you and answering her 20,000 questions. You heard the three men muttering together, papers shuffling over the tabletop and the laptop dinging every time there was new information.
"Oh, holy shit," Lemon gaped at the screen, earning everyone's attention. "You lot aren't gonna believe this."
"What's wrong?" Moss asked, moving to his shoulder and peering over to look at the laptop. "Well... Ain't that interesting?"
"What?" Kiwi asked.
"Looks like Ivan's here for some wedding..." Lemon muttered, tapping on the return key repeatedly. "No shit!"
"WHAT!?" Kiwi snapped, making you flinch. She instantly apologized, "Oh, shit, sorry, sorry, sorry, love, I get a bit excited when outta the loop."
"Ivan's sister's gettin' married," Moss reported, "to the Minister of Defense."
It was quiet for a long moment, the agents stewing in shock. "Well, that can't be good," you whispered to Kiwi.
"Not entirely, just means our jobs got a helluva lot more exciting, though," she grinned, dropping a wink.
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Three days. Three bloody days, you've been confined to the safe house. You were under strict orders not to leave out of fear of retaliation, so you remained for Aaron's peace of mind.
Moss, Tangerine, Lemon, and Kiwi were preoccupied focusing on their plan of attack. They figured there be an altercation at the engagement party, designing a trustworthy team to help them infiltrate and keep an eye. The day of the party, you were curled up in bed, reading to pass the time, and when you noticed Tangerine leaning in the doorway, your book snapped shut.
"How long you gonna keep me here?" You asked. "Some of us have day jobs they need to get back to."
He smirked, "I covered for yah."
"How?"
"Said you had a funeral t'go to in the States," he eased, pushing off the doorframe and approaching your side of the bed. He grunted as he sat, sighing deeply, "Listen, sweetheart..."
"Oh, that's never good."
"Just listen," he smirked. "Tonight's the engagement party, so we're gonna make our move."
"Are you sure Ivan's gonna be there? That this is what needs done?"
"We got it worked out, love," he promised. "Just need yah t'stay here with Kiwi. Keep safe, yeah?"
You stared at him for a moment, cocking your head slightly, "Been meaning to ask - why refer to each other's codenames when alone, like we are?"
"Good habit t'have," Aaron shrugged, caressing your head and then petting a finger down your cheek softly. "Hate leavin' you like this, but I'm gonna kill the fuckers that dared touch you."
"I'm not usually one for violence or revenge, but in this case, go crazy."
He nodded and stood with a smirk, stooping slightly to press his lips against yours. There was a solemn tension in the air, foreheads pressed together to breathe the same air, him whispering, "Love you, darlin'."
"Love you, too," you answered instantly. "Just make sure you come home, yeah?"
"As quick as I can," he swore.
You learned that day, you hated waiting. You despised being out of the know, having no connection to tell you what was happening on Aaron's side of things. Kiwi was a great distraction, though. She was chipper, talkative, wildly animated; sharing a joint with you, ordering take out that a security guard brought up, and making you watch all her favorite movies.
She checked her phone several times, eventually, you begging, "Any word?"
"Nah, don't worry," Kiwi smiled, "they usually don't give updates when on the job."
Unknown to you, on the other side of town, Tangerine and Lemon were changing into suits the hotel waiters would wear to serve the engagement party. Moss was in a nondescript white van, working surveillance, informing in the headset, "The Jailbird's in position."
"So are we," Lemon reported, nodding at his brother. "Ready, bruv?"
"It's gonna get messy," he nodded, cracking his neck and leading the charge into the event room with trays of champagne. He surveyed the room subtly, seeing The Jailbird working the catering table in a matching suit, and when the couple of the hour entered, it was showtime. However, before springing into action, the trio of trained and paid assassins had to wait for the first move else they'd blow their cover and alert Ivan they were onto him.
The future bride's name was once something traditionally Russian, now choosing to be Veronica, and her soon-to-be-husband, Gerald, was the very man who had established her witness protection. It was romantic, in a way, that the two fell in love; being naughty and a little forbidden, yet still tantalizing. Their families filled the room with the groom's colleagues, security lining the walls - yet being unable to do anything if the Russians decided to attack.
However, the moment Tangerine saw Ivan, he went rigid with anger. "Mate, hang on, don't do it - we have a plan for a reason," Lemon tried to warn, but sighed hotly when his brother stormed off. Into the comms system, he warned, "Heads up, lads, Tangerine's on the move. 'S bouta get real sticky, people, stay sharp."
Tangerine surged up behind Ivan, who was dressed similarly and indicating he, too, was undercover at this event. Tan felt his face redden with anger, tapping Ivan's shoulder, and when the Russian turned, he didn't hesitate to pull his fist back and launch it directly into Ivan's nose. It was the first punch thrown (literally) that spurred the other Russians into action.
People shrieked, heels clattered to flee, and security guards rushed to cover their employers; not knowing who the desired target was. Luck didn't seem on their side that evening as security managed to get Gerald out of the hall, but his fiancé, Ivan's sister, was separated in the stampeding crowd; gunshots making patrons scream in concern.
In their comms, Moss barked, "Veronica! Someone cover Veronica! She's the informant - get to Veronica!"
The Jailbird flipped the catering table to reveal several heavy-duty guns strapped for this very moment. He and Lemon made their selections, Tan preferring his fist; someway, somehow, missing getting shot by Ivan's men. But the Russian gangster was just as angry, fending off Tangerine and even getting a few punches in himself. All for nought, though, because Tangerine had the power of his anger propelling him; your face conjured in his mind, bloodied, making him hit harder - and harder - and harder.
"You! Dirty! Fuckin'! Scum!" Tan punctuated each word with a blow of his fist, keeping Ivan in his grip like a vice. "C'mere! You've done it now, haven't yah, you fuckin' bastard? Fucked up by touchin' my woman! I'll fuckin' gut you!"
Ivan's elbow cracked Tan's nose, making him stumble back a few steps. The Russian grinned, blood outlining his teeth, "She was real pretty, wasn't she, eh? I tried to leave her face for yah! Didn't wanna fuck that up too bad!"
"C'mere!" Tangerine roared, knuckles bloody. However, as he was winding up for another hit, one of Ivan's men tackled Tan from the side and knocked him into a banquet table - collapsing it.
The Russians were in an abundance, yet stood no chance when Tangerine got ahold of a handgun. The Jailbird preferred the larger shotgun, blowing gargantuan holes in people's chests; Lemon keeping it simple and just doing his job by taking out the enemy. It was Tan who was absolutely feral, sprayed in the blood of his enemies and sparing no life he came across; the party's occupants screaming in terror and trying to flee the event hall between gunshots.
"Tan!" The Jailbird barked, pointing off at someone, and when he looked, Tan locked onto Ivan again. The Jailbird located Veronica, trying to save her, but being unsuccessful when a Russian got to her first - disappearing from his line of sight as the chaos rampaged.
Growling, Tangerine started firing single shots to the heads of anyone in his way of his main target, but this time, the Russian saw him coming and was plenty prepared. The blade Ivan used cut Tan deep, filleting flesh; but did not stop the man wanting to avenge his love.
Bodies hit the floor left and right as Tangerine's anger swelled, there not being a single force in the world that could stop him now. Whatever Tan could get his hands on turned into a weapon, finding every single Russian responsible for what happened to you - the love and light of his life.
The engagement party was decorated with white table cloths and white roses, now stained and splattered in blood the longer the fight went. The musicians of the live band had fled, security encountering the Russian that had Veronica and shooting him dead, food covering the walls. Moss had tapped into the security cameras, informing his men when more Russians were racing towards the room; grunting when he threw off his headset, grabbed a gun, and left the van to take out anyone trying to get inside.
Lemon did his best to cover Tangerine's six, but the Russians kept coming in waves; far more prepared than they were that evening. Yet it didn't matter, their numbers might've been high but the anger Tangerine and Lemon felt was a gift from God Himself, spurring them to work harder and smarter.
Once inside, Moss brought The Jailbird to higher ground and strategically shot down their enemies while Lemon and Tangerine operated on the ground. When face-to-face with Ivan, Tan seethed, "You waited 6 years for a shot at me, would've thought you'd try harder."
"Don't need to," Ivan laughed, "I already got you!"
"Didn't get shit - "
"That why your girl's all alone? Don't worry, lad, I sent some boys to go deal with her. C'mon, then!" Ivan taunted, waving Tan in an antagonizing motion, weilding the 6-inch blade. As the two exchanged blows, Ivan laughed, "Never told me! Did you like my li'l gift? How I left your girl?"
Tangerine grit his teeth and used a chair to bash the Russian over his head. "I'll fucking gut you for touching her!" He shouted, people still squealing and screaming in fright.
"You stole my inheritance! That Faberge Egg's been in my family for generations!" Ivan roared, "And my fucking sister! If not for you," he grunted, taking a hacking swipe and missing, "she never would've opened her mouth!"
"Your sister, mate, fuckin' hates your guts!" Tan barked, kicking Ivan back and sending him crashing through a table. "She would've spoke even if we hadn't picked her up!"
"Bullshit!" Ivan snarled, swinging and his blade catching Tan's bicep, slicing shirt and flesh. "My sister knew loyalty! Until you rotten fucks showed up, kidnapping her, confusing her! Fucking brainwashing her!"
"She's the one who hired us, mate!"
"Liar!"
Tangerine earned the upper hand by flipping Ivan onto his back, dropping to his knees, and wailing his fist into the Russian's face. He kept hitting him, even when Ivan stopped moving; flesh tearing, meat flying, bones breaking, and blood spurting in every which direction.
Blood painted his face, droplets racing down to create streaks.
At the safe house, Kiwi was making tea when there came a series of distant banging from outside the flat's door. She met your worried eyes and pulled out a gun, holding a finger to her lips to indicate you to stay quiet. She checked the in-house security system, spying a few Russian Mafia members fighting through the security guards and getting closer.
"Right," she rushed, helping you off the couch, "you gotta hide and stay quiet, love, I'll handle this quickly."
"Handle what? What's going on?"
"They're here."
"A-Are we safe?"
"For now."
"Are the lads!?"
"We'll find out!" Kiwi stuffed you inside one of the closets, assuring, "No worries, I'll handle them, you just stay here. Aaron would kill me if he knew something happened to you on my watch."
You didn't even have time to register that she used his real name; finding no choice in the matter as she shut the doors, and through the slats, watched her brandish a gun. You flinched when you made out the sounds of a struggle and then several gunshots, not knowing who fired them, who was being shot at, or what was happening.
Tears of fear filled your eyes, holding your breath and just waiting with trembling appendages. You hated waiting. You hated not knowing. You hated the tension, the fear, the cultivation of stress.
When the doors ripped open, you gasped shrilly and stepped back into the wall, but calmed when you realized it was only Aaron. And then you realized - it was Aaron!
"Baby," you gasped, leaping into his embrace out of sheer relief; arms wrapping around his neck and being dampened with blood. "Oh, my God, oh, my God, you're okay - you're okay, you're really okay."
"Yeah, 's all right, love," he rushed, one arm holding your waist, the other petting the back of your head. "I'm all right, 's all right, I'm here. I've got yah, love, I'm here now. They're all dead, they're all dead, my love, we got 'em all, you're safe, it's all right. Nobody will touch you again - never again, sweetheart."
"Are you okay? Are you hurt?" You sniffled, pulling back to take both his cheeks in hand and frowning, "Is this blood!?"
"Yeah," he whispered, gently taking your wrists to pull your hands down. "But it's all right, 's not mine. I'm not hurt." He didn't let you answer, rushing, "Are you all right? Hey? Not hurt?"
"No, no, Kiwi - she protected me," you nodded, sniffling. "Where is she? Is she all right!?" You suddenly panicked, but Tangerine shushed you gently.
"She's fine, love, she's safe. Not a single scratch on her. Had most of the Russians down and out by the time we got back."
"And Brian?"
"Lemon's fine," he promised softly, "just cleanin' up in the other bathroom. Which," he smirked gently, "we should probably do the same. C'mon."
You agreed, hating the sight of blood on your man. When in the shower together, you got a look of the cuts and bruises he earned that night; knowing that despite him being the reason you were attacked, he was also the man who would protect you from anything and anyone. No matter the cost.
There was nowhere you were safer.
Watching you wash his wounds in spite of your own, Tangerine realized he didn't need to ask your father for permission - he was gonna marry you. Come hell or high water, there wasn't anything or anyone - be it Edward or Ivan - that could keep him from loving you the rest of his life.
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requesting rules and masterlist
Bullet Train masterlist
332 notes · View notes
frnkiebby · 8 days
Text
Frnkiebby’s FellowWhore Appreciation Day(week) Installment Number One:
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(if you have criticism, it’s welcome. but keep it constructive. my life motto is ‘arson is the answer’ for a reason)
You didn’t realize that Frank was no longer at your side until you turned your head to ask him a question.
“I— Frank??”
When you turned to look behind you, you saw him looking into the window of the new shop that had opened the previous week. Smiling to yourself, you walked back to him, scuffing your feet against the cement to catch his attention.
“When did this get here?” he asks, almost offended that he didn’t notice.
“Like….maybe opened a week ago or so?” you made a face and shrugged.
Frank just gapes at you. The look of incredulity on his face breaks any sort of commitment to being serious with him. It’s almost as if once you start laughing you just can’t stop. You’ve never seen a grown man in his 30’s get so miffed over not being told about a new vintage record shop opening up in a town that had at least five other record shops in the vicinity.
“Well you could’ve told me.”
“Is that my job?” you ask. Frank narrows his eyes at you and you have to try even harder to not start laughing again.
“Maybe it fuckin’ should be” he grumbles.
Before you can think of a quip back, he turns and pulls the door, frowning when it doesn’t open. You put your hand over your mouth and just watch the scene unfold. Frank looks to the open sign on the door and back to the handle, pulling again.
“I—“
“Frankie. Baby. See that sign? ‘push’? You’ve gotta push the door open.”
You make a pushing motion when his head whips around to snark something in response. Likely to tell you that you’re wrong. That is until the door swings open and Frank nearly tumbles into the shop owner.
“Oh! Sorry about that young man! I thought maybe the door was stuck again….you do know this is a push door right? Did I make that sign big enough? I’m so sorry!”
The sound of your hand flying to cover your mouth is loud enough that it causes the older gentleman to look at you in confusion.
“No! No, Sir the sign is perfect, your store is perfect! He was just so excited about looking around that I think he just wasn’t paying attention.”
If looks could kill, you would have been dead seven times over with the one playing across Frank’s face. You simply smiled at him and threaded your fingers with his, holding his hand and smiling innocently up at the store owner.
“Well isn’t that sweet! I love seeing such young people taking an interest in older forms of media! Come in, come in!!”
The old man ushered the two of you in and flapped his hands at the numerous stacks and rows of vinyls before promising not to hover and retreating back to his stool behind the counter.
“he does know we’re in our 30’s….right??” Frank asks, leaning over to whisper while eying the owner with mild concern.
“Frank stop. Let the poor guy be excited about such young people taking an interest in older forms of media” you swatted his hand out of yours and nudged him toward the closest row “now go look for more records to add to your hoard.”
He rolled his eyes at you but it didn’t stop the smile that slowly grew on his face. The afternoon progressed in fits of giggles, bargaining between which record to add to your arms, and a very pleased old man thanking the two of you for an eventful time.
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rainylana · 11 months
Text
“I’m not jealous.”
Eddie Munson x female reader
summary: jealousy over the new secretary at his job creates tension over dinner.
warnings: smut, language, jealous reader, threats of a spanking, dom eddie, vaginal fingering, unprotected sex.
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Forks scrapped against the dinner plates, chewing sounds and food pushing around with the utensil. A candle that still smoked from being blown out. The tv, still on. The lights flickered from a dying lightbulb. Jaw’s were tense and fist were balled up. To say less, the energy was awkward.
“You gonna keep ignoring me?” Eddie put down his fork, looking at you with annoyance.
“Mhm.“ You hummed, kicking your feet under the table.
He’d been late coming home for the fourth time this week. Your relationship with him was at an all time low, tense and angry. Neither of you knew why, but you didn’t like it. You both were always so stressed and angry, snapping and irritable.
He claimed that he had been working extra hours, but you knew there was a new girl working at the shop as a secretary, so your jealousy spiked to an all time high. He’d had the nerve to talk about her, talk about how good she was and how sweet and knowledgeable she was about cars. You weren’t sure if he was doing it on purpose to make you jealous.
“You’re being ridiculous, y/n.” He leaned back with annoyance. “What’s the fuckin’ attitude for, huh?”
“Attitude?” You scoffed, putting down your fork. “I do not have an attitude. You’re the one who showed up late. I had dinner ready.”
He groaned loudly, running a hand through his hair. “Angel, I told you I took up more hours. That means I’m working more hours.”
“Don’t talk to me like I’m dumb.” You argued, pushing your plate forward with an angry huff.
“You’re actin’ it.” He challenged.
“Well, you’re just a dick.” You huffed, pouting your lip. “You should at least come home on time when you know I’ve got dinner made.”
“Oh, my god,” He chuckled in amazement. “What about more hours do you not understand? Are you feeling okay? Did you get your period?” He looked at you inquisitively.
“Oh, typical man.” You scoffed, crossing your arms in a huff. “Blaming my period on everything?”
“Well, are you?” He retorted.
“No!�� You snapped, banging your fist against the table. “No, I’m not on my fucking period, Eddie, jesus!”
He groaned and buried his face in his hands, pressing hard against his forehead to numb his head ache. “Whatever.” He was going to drop it, not wanting to argue.
Maybe you were insecure, just simply jealous of the idea of another woman hanging around Eddie. It struck you odd, considering it had never bothered you before. You never typically got jealous. Eddie was always very good at assuring you that you were the only girl he had eyes for.
“Is this about Scarlett?” You could feel his eyes on you, your own looking down at the floor. “Because if it is, you need to tell me instead of biting my head off.”
He took your silence as a yes, and your eyes misted over, despite your best efforts.
“Y/n,” He sighed. “You know that’s stupid. I am not in slightest way interested in her.” He pressed, brown eyes trying to find yours, cocking his head in your direction.
“But you like her.” Your voice cracked, fingers digging into your skin.
“Yeah,” He nodded. “She’s good at her job. She’s got the credentials, but that doesn’t mean I’m gonna up and marry her, y/n. Why are you so jealous of her?” He tried to get you to open up, reaching across the table to get you to look at him.
“M’ not jealous.” You pouted, a tear falling down your face.
“Put that lip away.” He said firmly, “Look at me and talk like a big girl.” His dominating tone made your belly warm, sending a chill down your spine that made you look up.
“I’m not jealous.” You tried again, eyes swelling into hearts at his beauty, even if he was irritated at you.
“Could have fooled me.” He raised a brow, crossing his arms like yours had been. “You just having a bad day or what? Because I’m warning you now you’re heading for a spanking if you don’t relax.”
The very threat made you throb, your cheeks flare up with warmth that he didn’t miss. You sniffled, wiping your cheeks. “I’m sorry.”
He gave you a minute to calm down, tapping his fingers against the table, trying to find the words to make you feel better. “Y/n, you know there’s no reason to be jealous over her. Over anybody.” He said gently, holding out his hand for you to hold. He nodded to it, watching you reach out to take it.
“You and l know you’re the only girl I’ve got eyes for. I’m staying late because we need the money, because I’m trying to give you a good life. I could care less about her, y/n.” He squeezed your hand, speaking firmly, yet soft, trying to ease your stress. “I love you and only you, got it? You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve had the pleasure of knowing. Why would I waste my time with someone else when I’ve got it made right here.”
Your eyes were swollen with tears that fell down you face, and you gave a nod that made him untense. “I know,” You hiccuped. “I’m sorry, I just- I don’t know, I just miss spending time with you.”
“It’s okay,” He smiled, rubbing your hand. “I just don’t want you worrying about this because there’s nothing to worry about.”
You smiled back and scooted closer to the table, sniffling. “Yeah.”
He reached out to wipe your cheek. “And I know you miss our time together. I miss it too, but we can still spend plenty of time together, honey. We’ll just have to adjust to this for the time being, okay? Nothing to get worked up about.”
You blushed, embarrassed at the tantrum you threw. “I’m sorry again.”
“Don’t be.” He soothed you. “I understand. Come here.” He took your hand and led you around the table, pulling you next to him so he could hug you lovingly. He was warm and embraced you gently, wrapping his arms around you in a tender hug.
“I’m sorry if I’ve been a jackass.” He spoke into your neck, torsos glued together.
“Me too.” You muffled into his chest. “I’ve acted like such a spoiled brat.”
He chuckled into your hair. “You have, if I do say so, darling.”
You whined, nestling into his chest. “Not gonna spank me are you?” You smirked.
“I should,” He looked down at you. “But I’m not gonna, since you’ve got a valid reason for being upset, but I am gonna fuck the fussy out of you.”
Your belly twisted and you looked up with doe eyes. “Please, do,”
He hungrily kissed you, knocking your head back as his lips lurched forward in a needy kiss. He pulled you into his lap, your legs going either side of his on the seat as he kissed down your neck. You hummed happily, looking up to the ceiling as he left sticky, wet spots down your skin, suckling and marking as he went. He pulled down your shirt as far as he could, kissing the exposure of your breasts.
“Fuck,” You whimpered, rocking your hips into his growing bulge.
“Watch it,” He bit your shoulder. “I’ll still punish you.”
You clamped your mouth shut and grinded on his bulge as he sucked on your neck, moaning and curling your fingers in the curls of his hair. As much as you loved a good spanking from your boyfriend, he really knew how to make it hurt.
He picked you up and walked you over to the couch, dropping you on your back as he towered over you, smiling happily with shiny teeth. You smiled back, giggling lightly as he reconnected the kiss. He rested between your legs, reaching down to cup your pussy with his palm. You hummed with satisfaction, shimming down your shorts and underwear in one go. You went to go for his belt until he stopped you.
“No,” He grabbed your hand, giving it a delicate kiss. “All about you tonight, baby. Want you to know how much you’ve got me wrapped around your finger.”
He cupped your cheek and continued sucking on your neck, letting you relax as he dragged a finger through your folds, sending a shock through your body. He moved all the way down to your chest before he flung out shirt off, taking each of your nipples in his mouth and spending time to worship each of them, all the while he continued to graze over your pussy.
Then he moved to your arms, licking them with his tongue to your elbow before switching to the other. You were shaking, bucking into his hand and whispering pleas. He got to your stomach, giving a soft kiss to your navel as he finally pushed a finger inside of your cunt.
You moaned loudly, grabbing his hair.
“Feel better?” He smirked, coming up to you as he finger fucked your pussy.
You nodded, voice too full and shaky to speak coherently. He pressed another messy kiss to your lips, attacking his tongue with yours: His thumb went to your clit, circling and pressing, digging and swiping. It made you pant, shake and tremble in his arms. You had to break apart the kiss to cry out, looking up to the ceiling in euphoria. “I’m gonna cum.” You sobbed, rocking your body into him.
“Yeah?” He smiled coyly, entering yet another finger inside of you, rings shining with your arousal. “Fuckin’ cum then you little brat.”
You cried out as you came, your body shaking with pleasure as you sobbed and bit your lip. Eddie rubbed the heel of his palm against your clit, helping you through your high as he leaned his forehead against yours.
“I need you.” You panted hotly. “Please, need you bad.”
He hurriedly unbelted himself before rutting his thick cock into your pulsing cunt, making you scream as you wrapped your arms around his body. “Fuck,” He groaned, grabbing the arm of the couch as he looked down at his cock sliding in and out of your pussy. His pubic hair grazed at your overstimulated clit, making your muscles jolt and spasm. He thrusted faster and faster, the loud sound of skin slapping mixed with his heavy pants and your choked gasps and whines.
He came within seconds into your cunt, collapsing atop of you with a heavy huff,
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