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eternalxvenus · 3 days

Text

༻ room for one more? ༺

summary: after many failed dates, you begin to give up on the dating scene until Sarah and John B give you an interesting proposal.

cw: smut 18+, sarah x f!reader x john b, threesome, oral (f and m receiving), face sitting, overstimulation, squirting, dirty talk, praise, p in v, unprotected sex, pet names (sweetheart, pretty girl, good girl, baby), brief drug use, lmk if i missed any!

wc: 3.6k

notes: thank you to the lovely @juniebugg for giving me this amazing idea, i loved writing it and hope i did it justice 🙏🏽

☆ obx masterlist ☆

The sun was setting but the day was still hot, a soft wind tickling your skin. You were lying on your towel, opting to enjoy the last few rays of the sun with Kie. JJ, Pope, John B, Cleo, and Sarah were all in the water swimming and playing around. You all had a rough week for different reasons and so JJ called for a mandatory beach day.

As you dozed in and out, listening to the sound of the waves, Kie nudged your side softly. "So... how is the whole dating thing coming along?"

Even though she was genuinely curious, you couldn't help the sting of embarrassment as you tried not to groan. "Not so great. I have a date with Kelce tomorrow, but I'm not over the moon excited." You turned to look at Kie through your sunglasses with a tight smile. "If this one doesn't work out, I'm giving up."

Her nose scrunched up in mild disapproval. "Kelce? I didn't think you'd go for someone in that circle.

Truth be told, you usually wouldn't. Even though the whole Kooks vs Pogues thing isn't as relevant anymore, some Kooks were still stuck in their old ways. "Me either. He came up to me and started a conversation at the boneyard a couple nights ago and asked for my number. Now we suddenly have a date at the country club," you sighed with a shrug.

"Even if it doesn't go well, don't stress it. You don't have to push a relationship anytime soon– you're still young."

You sat up and turned onto your back, deciding to take a nap while you could. "Easy for you to say. You have JJ, Cleo has Pope, and Sarah has John B. I'm the odd one out." Kie gave you a solemn smile but didn't say anything else, which you were thankful for.

A few hours later, everyone was out of the water, and the wind picked up leaving goosebumps on their wet skin. While everyone was drying off, Kie woke you up and said it was time to go.

You asked John B to take you home because you had plans tomorrow. As everyone laughed and joked around with one another, you couldn't bring yourself to be in a cheerful mood knowing they each had their special person within the group.

Once you were home, you immediately took a warm shower to try and let the warm water relax you. It did somewhat, but it didn't stop your brain from overthinking. After what felt like hours of tossing and turning in bed, one melatonin later, you finally were able to fall asleep and stay asleep.

⭑*•̩̩͙⊱✩•̩̩͙⊰•*⭑

The room was unbearably hot when you woke up. You flung the covers off you as you wiped the light sheen of sweat from your forehead. You'd left the window open, and your AC wasn't on. With an irritated groan, you got up and closed the window. Wanting to cool down your room as quick as possible, you turned the AC on as low as it could go.

You checked your phone and saw a few missed messages.

Kie: have fun on your date, lmk how it goes!

Sarah: if you aren't busy later come swing by the chateau :)

Kelce: morning, i'll be there at 1 to pick you up for lunch. can't wait to see you.

You sent in your replies and got ready for your date with Kelce. Light makeup and a cute but simple white dress. As you grabbed it from your closet, you saw the red dress you shoved in the back with the price tag still attached. You'd bought it impulsively while shopping with the girls one day but had never worn it.

It was a mid-thigh deep cherry red with a slit and showed off your cleavage perfectly—according to Sarah, at least. It had never seen the outside of your closet, no matter how many times your friends tried to make you wear it. You never felt like you could truly pull it off.

There were five minutes to spare when you'd finally finished up. As you were spraying your perfume a text from Kelce came in letting you know he was outside. You grabbed your purse and met him outside, where he sat in his car.

A small sigh left your lips. He didn't bother to meet you at the door. Perhaps he wasn't the gentleman type. You got into his expensive car, the leather seat cool from the AC blasting on high.

"Ready to go?" He asked, giving you a once over. You nodded softly and gave him a small smile. Neither of you spoke much the entire ride there. You sat on your phone checking social media, playing games, anything to pass the time.

Kelce parked in front of the country club and beckoned you to follow him. He led you to the outdoor patio that connected to a restaurant. After a waiter sat you both and you ordered drinks, Kelce started the conversation.

"So, is this your first time at the country club?."

"Uh... yeah, it is."

"What do you think of it?" he said, taking a sip of the drink that had been placed in front of him.

You shrugged, "It's nice, I can see why people come here." There was a beat of silence and you knew this date wasn't going to be the best.

"Honestly, I'm surprised we're here right now. I never thought I'd be taking a pogue on a date at the country club. But you're really hot, so I've got no complaints."

His statement made you internally roll your eyes. "Right..."

⭑*•̩̩͙⊱✩•̩̩͙⊰•*⭑

You were back home, feet aching slightly from your shoes, and the heat was making you feel groggy and gross. The date was not good. All Kelce could talk about was himself, the kook life, and how he wanted to bring you to a party at Topper's next week. You declined. He also made slick remarks about you being a pogue which pissed you off.

You: hey sarah, i'll be over in a bit.

She sent a thumbs to your message. You got in your car and made your way to the chateau. When you pulled up, you saw John B out by the deck.

Inside you could see Sarah walking around so you went in to greet her.

"Hey, I'm here," you said knocking on the door as you walked inside.

"Hey! Glad you could make it." She sat the plates she was holding into the cabinet and motioned for you to sit. She came over and sat next to you on the couch as you both got comfortable. "Kie mentioned you had a date… how did it go?"

You picked at your nails and shook your head. "Not too great."

Sarah hummed sympathetically. "Well, Kelce isn’t as interesting as he makes himself out to be." You both laughed as you nodded in agreement.

You laid back on the couch letting your head fall back. "When is everyone else coming?" assuming Sarah or John B had something planned for everyone tonight.

"Actually, I only invited you. John B and I wanted to talk to you about something," she sighed. You felt nervousness bloom in your stomach as she stood up. "I'm gonna go get John B, just sit tight."

While waiting for them to come back your mind was wandering, not sure what could be so important that they had to talk to you together and in person. The door swung open and Sarah walked back in with John B right behind her. No one spoke as they pulled up two chairs and sat in front of you on the couch. John B gave a soft smile which helped your nerves just a little.

"Okay so," Sarah spoke up. "We weren't really sure how to go about this so just bear with me here. You're one of our best friends and we've spent a lot of time together over the years..."

You could hear your heart beating in your ears, almost drowning out Sarah's voice. Please don't tell me they don't want to be friends anymore, you thought to yourself.

"Anyways, me and John B have been talking. We both find you attractive obviously. And we wanted to invite you to bed with us! Like a threesome." Sarah had a smile on her face and your eyes widened.

"W-what? You want to have a threesome? With me?" They both nodded.

"Basically, me and Sarah had been talking and we asked each other who we'd want to hook up with if we were single. To our surprise we both said you, so we figured why not just ask."

Your face felt burning hot with shyness and embarrassment. You'd only had sex one time and it wasn't all that great. You and your boyfriend at the time had wanted to lose your virginities to each other but neither of you knew what you were doing.

Sarah's hand grabbed yours and pulled you out of your swarming thoughts. "You don't have to answer right now." She was caressing the back of your hand with her thumb reassuringly. "Go home and just think about it. We'll be waiting patiently for your answer— no pressure at all, okay?"

The air in the room felt a little less heavy. You knew they wouldn't force you or be mad if you decided not to. "Okay," you said with a small smile.

They both hugged you, walked you to your car, and waved you off home. On the ride back, all you could think about was whether you should accept or not. You weren't experienced and didn't want to disappoint them.

You were laying in bed but once again couldn't sleep. You decided to take a few hits of the weed pen JJ had given you a while back, it's lasted you a while since you only use it when you can't sleep or need to relax.

Once you felt the high encompassing your mind you laid down and closed your eyes. Your mind drifted to the thought of being in bed with Sarah and John B. With that, you fell asleep.

⭑*•̩̩͙⊱✩•̩̩͙⊰•*⭑

It had been three days since your threesome invitation. You had thought about it a lot. Even though you hadn't spoken to Sarah and John B directly, you all still talked in the group chat with everyone else like normal.

It was still early in the morning when you texted Sarah.

You: hey are you and John B up yet?

20 minutes later, you got a reply.

Sarah: good morning! i am but he's still sleeping lol. what's up?

You: i've given it some thought and i wanna do this but are you sure? i'm not the most experienced when it comes to all that

Sarah: i'm so happy! thank you for trusting us and don't worry we'll both be there to guide you. are you free tonight?

You said yes and she told you to come over at 7. That gave you 11 hours to completely freak out before heading over there.

⭑*•̩̩͙⊱✩•̩̩͙⊰•*⭑

The warm air from outside blew into your car as you sat outside the chateau, trying to give yourself a mini pep talk. They suggested that you come in loungewear, so you wore shorts and a cropped tank top with no bra, all things considered.

You went up and knocked on the door and waited. John B came and greeted you with a hug. He didn't hide the fact that he was taking in your body.

"Hey, come in. Sarah's finishing up in the shower so she should be out in a few minutes." With a brief nod, you followed him inside.

It was so weird, normally the chateau felt like a second home. You'd help yourself to whatever and never felt out of place. This time it was the complete opposite. You didn't want to touch anything or sit without someone telling you to. You felt like a guest, who was visiting for the first time.

John B sensed your nervousness and gave you a smirk. "Don't get all shy now sweetheart, we haven't even started. Speaking of which, is there anything you wanna do? We could have some takeout, watch a movie, anything really."

You gave him a puzzled look. "I thought we were going to... you know."

"I love your enthusiasm," he chuckled. "We are, but Sarah and I both thought it'd be best to ease into it rather than just jump right in. We want this to be as comfortable as possible for you."

It was the little things like this that reminded you that these are your best friends. They knew you like the back of their hand and wanted this to be enjoyable for you and them. "A movie sounds nice," you said with a smile.

A little while later you were all sat on the couch watching some random movie that you'd picked. It wasn't all that good but you were still tuned in. Your eyes glanced away from the TV when you felt Sarah's hand start grazing the inside of your thigh. She was still facing forward almost as if nothing was happening. You looked back at the TV and spread your legs a little wider.

It was summer, entirely too hot for any blankets— even with the cool air of the AC blowing— so if John B looked, he'd see what was happening. The light, teasing touches went on for a few more minutes and you could feel yourself getting more and more worked up. You were ready to break the silence and ask for more until you felt John B's lips on your neck. A soft gasp slipped past your lips as your eyes fluttered closed.

"This okay?" he muttered against your neck, and you nodded. "Use your words, pretty girl."

You managed to whimper out a soft 'Yes' which encouraged them both to keep going. Sarah's hand moved higher, lightly rubbing you through your shorts. A moan slipped from your pouty lips at the contact and you tried grinding your hips against her hand for more stimulation. "Let's go to the bed," Sarah whispered.

The short walk was filled with little kisses and light touches, none of you wanted to stop even for a second. Sarah instructed you to take off your clothes and lay on the bed. She and John B did the same as she sat behind you and John B positioned himself in between your thighs.

"Fuck... your pussy is dripping." You attempt to close your legs but he has a strong grip on your thighs. "Don't try and hide yourself, I wanna see everything."

Sarah brought her hands up to massage your tits, your nipples feeling painfully hard. "John B is gonna use his mouth to make you feel good, okay?"

"Okay– oh!" He wasted no time licking a long stripe to collect your arousal on his tongue.

"How does she taste baby?" Sarah asked. You could hear the lust and neediness in her voice. "She's so fucking sweet, like candy." John B couldn't help but moan as he continued to move his tongue in and out of your hole. You felt one of Sarah's hands leave your breast to touch herself behind you. Her soft moans make you even more turned on.

John B brought his mouth to your clit and sucked hard. That was all it took to have you falling over the edge in pleasure. One hand squeezed Sarah's arm while the other tugged on John B's brown tresses. Your moans filled the room as you rode out your first orgasm of the night.

Sarah replaced your spot in front of John B and once again he wasted no time lapping at her essence. Once she reached her peak John B didn't stop he was pushing her into overstimulation and instructed you to hold her legs open.

"John B! Please– ohmygod– it's too much!" she tried to push his head away but he didn't budge until he pulled another orgasm from her. You watched in amazement as she started to squirt making a mess of the bed and his face. He wore your combined juices proudly, not bothering to wipe any of it off.

You leaned down to whisper in her ear. "Fuck Sarah you look so hot like this, squirting all over the place, being so messy." She whimpered at your words as John B finally gave her some reprieve.

She pulled you down so your lips collided with hers in a heated bruising kiss. Her tongue swiped across your lip and made its way into your mouth massaging your tongue.

In the corner of your eye, you saw John B stroking his hard cock slowly. Sarah noticed as well and gave you a smirk. "Let's show him how thankful you are for making you cum."

John B positioned himself up against the headboard and Sarah brought you face to face with his length. "Grab the base and take him into your mouth. He likes it really messy," She whispered while keeping her gaze on him. You followed her instructions and did your best to please him.

Once you'd taken as much as you could into your mouth, a light gag leaving your throat, he groaned. "Fuuuuck, that's it, take it all in that tight little throat." You went at your own pace for a bit, then Sarah took over gagging you on his cock at a brutal pace. Your eyes watered and there was spit and drool all over your chin and his pelvis. John B's thighs tensed and without warning his load filled your throat forcing you to swallow it all.

You coughed a bit and Sarah rubbed your back soothingly while you and John B caught his breath. "You did so good baby." She went to kiss your neck and caress your body.

The praise did things to you. "Thank you." John B pulled you against him and kissed you deeply. "Do you wanna keep going, sweetheart?" John B muttered against your lips. The room felt so hot in combination with all the body heat and the summer air. You were definitely spent, but you wanted to go again. "I want you inside, please."

He nodded and moved you down to straddle him. Sarah moved to sit on his face, facing you. She moaned, feeling his tongue on her clit again. You sink down on his length feeling completely and utterly full. Sarah pulled you in for a kiss as you rocked your hips in a slow rhythm.

The stimulation on your clit from grinding felt delicious, you knew you wouldn't last much longer. One look at Sarah and you could tell she was close too. "I wanna cum together," you whispered against her lips. "Okay, together." she nodded. John B pushed his hips up to get impossibly deeper and gave a harsh such on Sarah's clit, pushing you both over the edge.

You both collapsed onto the bed, your body completely worn out. Sarah and John B left kisses and comforting touches anywhere they could, telling you how well you did and that they were so proud. Their voices faded away as sleep overtook you.

⭑*•̩̩͙⊱✩•̩̩͙⊰•*⭑

A month after your night with Sarah and John B things couldn't have been better. You'd spent many pleasure-filled nights at the chateau. They were always showing you something new and making you feel so good. There were even times when it would be just one of them if the other was busy or not around.

You weren't expecting the text from Sarah asking you to come over considering you were just there two days ago. She asked you the wear that red dress which made you even more confused.

Walking into the chateau, not bothering to knock, you saw the table with lots of food and a candle adorning the middle of the table. "What's all this?" you questioned. John B and Sarah both turned from their spot in the kitchen and greeted you.

"We wanted to do something special to thank you, you look beautiful by the way," he said leading you to the empty chair. They sat down at the table and you could tell something was coming up. Even Sarah looked a bit nervous. Maybe they were going to end things.

"So, we don't want to keep you here with this uncertainty. We did all these because this past month has been amazing. You've always been a great friend and I think– we think– doing this has made us incredibly closer." You nod in agreement. "We want you to be our girlfriend. We'll be an official polyamorous couple. I don't want to have to give you up to someone else and neither does Sarah. We want you to be ours and we'll be yours completely."

You felt like the wind had been sucked out of you. They wanted you to be their girlfriend. Before you could say anything Sarah chimed in. "Sorry if this seems sudden and we understand if you want to keep things how they are. You don't have to have an answer–"

"Of course I would," you cut her off with a wide smile. You could see the worry leave both of their faces. "God I love you." Sarah laughed leaning over to place a kiss on your cheek, John B following suit.

The rest of the night was spent having an amazing dinner and even better sex with your new partners. Never in a million years did you think this would be your life but you loved it and you loved them. They were your best friends and lovers wrapped in one.

likes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

#sarah cameron #john b routledge #sarah cameron smut #john b routledge smut #sarah cameron x reader #sarah obx #sarah cameron obx #sarah outer banks #john b x reader #john b obx #obx x reader #obx #obx smut #outer banks #black!reader #black reader #divider by: plutism #black writers #john b smut

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sherewrytes · 3 days

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Ms. Good Grip

Inspired by this song

If you know you know. If you don't know how you know. Wanted to drop a fic with a more Caribbean inspo.

C.W : smut, Caribbean dialect, overstimulation, Caribbean black reader. Dom ony. Y/N be actin out

Your fav cousin wedding reception was in full swing. Drinks pouring, shots passing, weed smoke in the air all elders already left. You knew your boyfriend Ony wasn't used to Caribbean style parties. The pacing was completely from the usual parties he's used to. He was faded and tipsy, hands gripping your hips catching every whine you threw his way. You were completely bent over, if it wasn`t for your updo your hair would be touching the floor with how far you were bent over. You both took a break from dancing to get some drinks and more food before everyone's greedy ass ate it all up.

The song changed to Alkaline's on Fleek. As soon as you heard,

Whooo gyal yo pum, pum Gyal, yuh pum pum, Gyal, yuh pum pum on fleek.

You joined your other wild ass cousins in the dance circle and began whining. You made sure to position yourself right in front of Ony. You were secretly putting on all this show for him. All the weed and drinks had you wanting him. He looked so good in his semi casual fit You whined slowly at first slowly going lower to match the intro of the song staring him dead in his eyes while he smoked a joint with a bottle of Stag beer in his hand. His shades resting slightly lower on his nose. You watch him beckon you over with a finger, but you ignored him only because you loved riling him up at times, it makes the sex better.

You felt a hand grip your waist; you knew instantly it wasn't Ony's, but you decided to give the guy a lil dance. You cousin Shanice side eyed know mothing " Aye, you always lookin' for problems. You know how Ony's gonna react." You laughed saying "Oh well, small thing."

(Small thing- Trini slang for No big deal)

You heard the Dj scratch and the song changed to Spice's Jim Screechie

You were singing the song loud and clear while throwing it back on the random guy.

"And your gyal a watch you hard, but me no matter that Hold me tight and don't let me go Whine with me and me a whine with you"

You were giving him a wicked whine knowing for a fact that kinda whining is reserved for Ony but you thought "Oh well." The guy had one hand on your hips pulling you back against his hips while almost dry fuckin you on the makeshift dance floor. You felt a hand grab your wrist and pulled you. You looked up and saw it was Ony pulling you off the makeshift dance floor away from everyone.

"You got me fucked up; you know that. Are you goin out of your head or sum." Ony said his voice gruff with annoyance. You on the other hand were turned on by hearin' him this way. You smirked "It's just a dance Ony. I know you're suffering from not accustom. You bein' a black American I know you won't know much about my culture and shit."

You watch Ony's eye widen with annoyance "Oh really, you really wanna go that route with me. Imma give you a last chance to take that shit back." You rolled your eyes and giggled. "Still just a lil dance Ony." You attempted to walk away big mistake.

You knew it was your fault you were now in this situation. Your hands pressed and pinned against the toilet door with your back arched. Ony was feeding deep, hard strokes. You had to way to move, one of his hands pinned your hands against the door while the other was between your spread thighs rubbing your clit.

You felt your wetness run down your thigh, you were making a mess of yourself. You were coming again. You were pleading with him to take it easy on you "Ony 'm sor-sorry...please I can't"

"Nah, you can't, you weren't whining out there on him like you couldn't so nah you gon' take this dick. It's what you wanted right."

You were panting, moaning moaning his name as fucked you harder. You were now pressed against the door, his hand now pressed against the side of your neck. Between the hard slaps of his hips against yours and the song blaring in the background, you were losing your mind. You came twice already and feeling the third one fast approaching. He was rubbing your twitching clit. Rubbing so fast, your squirt was coming out faster than you realized. Your lust filled sobs were shaking your body and his, it only made him want to fuck you harder.

"Ony! Ony! Ouuu fuck I'm sorry 'm sorry please please please slow down." He stopped only to turn you over so you can be face to face as he lifted you up and pinned your back against the door again. You were both face to face. Ony's eyed still red from smoking.

"You always tryna test me and push me Y/N huh. You don't fuckin listen....actin up and showin out for WHO. that dude..playin' too much."

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as your stomach clenched, you saw Ony smirk and slid his hand between both of your bodies and press down on your stomach. Your eyes widen while tears brimmed the corner. "Ouuu fuck! shit Ony..didn't mean to do it. why you fuckin me like this."

Ony tried to reign in his anger but her couldn't he felt it coming back, only pushing him to thrust deeper and harder "Don't play dumb with me Y/N you know I'm actin' like this."

Between Ony tearin your shit up and the music thumping in the background, you were close to another orgasm, tears now running down your face. Ony's hips practically pinning you between him and the door. Ony leaned in and kissed your tears away.

Ony finds your silence a bit annoying. After what felt like minutes, his hand gripped your throat. Through your teary eyes you could see you pushed Ony a bit to far but then again he knew how you were. He loved you for it.

Ony felt your body shivering against his. He kept feeding you deep, hard strokes which you were sure if the music wasn't loud as fuck everyone could hear. He felt his vexation simmering in his veins.

"Ony..please..I love you. I...Ony!" you pleaded. Ony rolled his eyes tired of hearing the same things over and over again come out of your mouth.

"Nah, love me, that's crazy Y/N. Do you really love me Y/N?" "I do Ony! I do. I won't do this shit again I swear...just.."

You were gripping around his dick so tightly he could feel his balls twitching and he fucked you against the door harder. He knew you loved pushing his buttons as much as you loved him. he wrapped your legs tighter around his hips, trying to go deep as he possibly can. You were so overstimulated you were shaking while pressed between the door and him.

"Fuck Y/N you're squeezin' me Gonna nut" you felt him fill you up groaning into your ear. You knew the amount he just came in you would leak out.

Ony sat you on the bathroom counter, helped you clean up then he cleaned up himself. You cleaned your face with make up wipes you had in your bag and reapplied your make up Ony smirked "You gon behave now my love" "Yes Ony I will"

You went back out the wedding party holding hands and smiling.

#black tumblr #aot onyankopon #aot x black reader #onyankopon x reader #onyankopon x black y/n #black reader #aot x reader #aot x you #aot smut #aot scenarios

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dolcettamagica · 6 hours

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being gojo’s princess

#black reader #gojo jjk #gojo satoru #gojo saturo #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #gojo x reader #jjk gojo #jujutsu gojo #satoru x y/n #jjk satoru #satoru x reader #satoru x you #jjk x reader #jjk x y/n #jjk x you

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chososlittlecrybaby · 2 days

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₊˚⊹♡ CALLING JJK MEN DADDY!

WARNINGS : spanking, back shots, missionary, dacryphilia, mean!nanami, squirting, size kink, choking, breeding kink, public sex, cunniligus. fingering, thigh riding, reverse cowgirl, double penetration(sukunas part) pussy slapping.

GOJO, NANAMI, CHOSO, SUKUNA, GETO

GOJO SATORU

“Pretty girl.. you need to be quiet. Yaga is next door.” Gojo said, sliding his middle and ring finger through your wet folds. You grip onto Gojos hair, yanking it. “It’s hard to be quiet when you’re literally playing with my pussy.” You spat back. Gojo then stuck both of his fingers into your dripping cunt, taking his thumb and gently rubbing your clit. You became a mess in mere seconds. You slapped your hand over your mouth, squirming under Gojos touch.

“Stay still and stop moving.”

You shivered, his voice sending butterflies through your stomach. Gojo sped up his violent movements in your pussy. Tears started to come out of your eyes. You shut your legs, trying to catch your breath. “Open ‘em back up pretty girl” Just as he said that, He wiggled his fingers in your cunt. It took you over, you opened your legs and let out a loud moan, not giving a care in the world that Yaga was a wall away.

Gojo gave you a kiss, sliding his tongue into your mouth. You reached down to grab his wrist. “D-Daddy it’s t’much.” You whined. Gojo stopped all his movements. “The things you do to me girl” Gojo said, his dick now rising up against your back.

NANAMI KENTO

“D-Daddy I’m sorry!” You whined. Nanami slapped your ass again. Flesh turning red from the rough treatment. “Pretty girl, you know better than to act like that with me.” He said, hand coming down to your ass again. You cried, it hurts, but it hurts so good. “I-I’m sorry nami.. I won’t do it a-again!” You jolted mid sentence feeling nanamis hand slap your ass again. “Lay down f’me girl.” You turn over and lay on your back, spreading your legs open.

“Such a pretty fucking pussy.” He said, slapping your clit. “ you arched your back off the bed. Nanami takes his dick and lines it up with your cunt. He pushes in stretching you out instantly. “Ooh shit.” You moaned, going to rub your clit to ease the pain. “Daddy you’re so big!” You cried out when he began to move. “Fuck.” Nanami groaned and the tightness. “Gonna teach you some fucking manners.”

CHOSO KAMO

You grabbed on to chosos shoulders grinding your pussy onto his clothed thigh. “You got it mama.” Choso said, voice deep and reaching. You shook from the cold air in the room. “Choso I wanna cum.” You said pouting. “You wanna cum pretty girl? You think you deserve it?” He said, hands on your waist moving you faster on his thigh. “Yes daddy, please!” You said, tears in your eyes looking at him.

He took his hand, softly caressing your face. “Go ahead mama, make a mess on my thigh, show me how much of a slut you are.” Choso whispered in your ear. That’s all it took for you to crumble apart on his leg. You immediately squirted on his thigh. His sweatpants wet and his white tee.

RYOMEN SUKUNA

You usually called him king, but today he was hitting your shit exceptionally good.

“Oooh, fuck! Daddy slow down!” You cried. Sukuna had both of your arms behind your back while giving you straight back shots. Both of his dicks filling you up real nice. Sukuna took one of his hands and grabbed your neck pulling you back towards his chest, while another hand went to play with your clit. You were a crying mess. “What a pretty sight to look at.” He said. You looked at yourself in the mirror displayed in front of you. For some reason, you came. The sight of you being manhandled and tossed around by the king of curses, made you cum.

SUGURU GETO

“Let me cum in you.” Geto said, watching you bounce on his cock. “Watching you bounce on my dick like this is making me wanna make you a mommy baby.” He grabbed your ass and slapped it. “D-Daddy you feel so good” you said, hips stuttering from the pleasure. “Fuck. Keep going girl.” You happily obeyed. You sped up your pace, not going too fast but not going too slow either.

The feeling was so good, you let out a loud moan before cumming on getos dick. Pussy tightening around him. Geto moaned. “Please cum in me daddy I need it!” You begged. “Okay pretty girl. Ima make you into a pretty mommy. Walking around with my children. Fuck.” Geto said, cumming deep inside you, not pulling out until all of his nut was deep inside you.

DIVIDERS FROM!!!

@cafekitsune

#black reader #jjk smut #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #nanami kento #ryomen sukuna #geto suguru #choso kamo #smut #filthy smut

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saturnville · 2 days

Text

ii hands ii heaven, l. hamilton

pairing: he (lewis hamilton) x she (black!fem!reader) warning: suggested sexual situations content: in which two newlyweds bask in the essence of one another. an: don't ask me what I know about LH44, I'm not gonna front and act like I know this man like the back of my hand. I saw some videos, watched some interviews, read some fics, and now we're here. just know I wanted to write & I pictured him for this fic lol. hope y'all enjoy

Soft mewls flowed from her parted lips like a waterfall. Her noises dove and crashed into the deepest oceans of their devotion. The intimacy of the moment was deep. They welcomed themselves to drown in it, leaving air at the surface and choosing to inhale the breath of adoration the other exuded.

With the soft light of dawn peering through the curtains, their bodies wove together like yarn, knotted together and unable to be untangled. As he whispered sweet sentiments against the shell of her ear, the remnants of the outside world faded away.

The desperation for one another flowed between them like lava, further igniting their passion and desire. They moved together in a unified harmony, exploring all the other had to offer. Tender affection and unrestrained passion were their portion. Each fiery touch, each delicate kiss was an unspoken promise of the depth of their love.

When the heat of passion began to cool, they stayed wrapped in the warm embrace of one another; damp bodies pressed against each other like glue. On their lips were smiles fueled by dopamine. Low eyes filled with adoration.

“Hi,” he spoke softly, his breath warm against her lips. She giggled like a lovesick teenager and whispered back, bringing her trembling hand to his face, drumming her finger over his bitten and swollen lips. “Let’s get ready, yeah?”

She nodded slowly, her face lifting against the pillow as her head moved. She sat up slowly, her wince falling on the ears of her lover. He swiftly wrapped his arms around her and swept her off the warm bed. She squealed and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Baby!”

He hummed softly and placed her on her feet. His tattooed arm opened the shower door and turned the handle. He waited for the water to warm before ushering her into the shore with a tap against her bottom. She scolded him playfully, “Hands to yourself.”

“I’ll try my best.”

What was intended to be a quick cleanse turned into a thirty-minute shower with heavy droplets against their bodies as she was pressed against the glass, heaving as the humidity invaded her throat. Goodness, they’d be so late.

They couldn’t keep themselves off of each other. His zipping the back of her dress led to his fingers brushing her hair off her neck and tracing the placement of her dark locks with his lips. Her eyelids fluttered closed as her hands gripped the edge of the counter. He would be the death of her.

Her tongue darted out and slid over her swollen bottom lip. His hands began to wander over the perfectly fitted dress. It was the prettiest emerald green shade and complimented her skin's richness wonderfully. Every curve, riff, and ridge was accentuated. She looked beautiful.

“Okay, okay,” she whimpered, pressing her hands against his thigh. “We gotta go, baby, we gotta go.” She turned in his arms and began fiddling with the buttons on his shirt. His chest, decorated with tattoos and the finest of jewelry.

“You look stunning,” he whispered, caressing her waist. “So pretty.”

She smiled bubbly and pecked his lips, “Thank you kindly.” Her hands smoothed out the thick linen of his suit jacket, the bling from her rings catching his eye. His heart leaped at the sight.

He hummed lowly and squeezed her bottom, smirking when his fingers caught the dampness between her legs. She gave him a look. He gave one back. “Mhm. The quicker we get out of here, the quicker we get back. Let’s go, Mrs. Hamilton.”

“That’ll never get old,” she said, reaching behind to swipe her purse off the counter.

Her husband smiled softly and led her out of their shared bedroom. With a light kiss against her temple, he said, “It’s not supposed to. Let’s get out of here.” As they prepared to depart, the intimacy lingered like the sweetness of her fragrance.,

With whispered words, playful touches, and gentle kisses, they prepared themselves for what the outside world had to offer. Heaven.

#saturnville #black!reader #black reader #lewis hamilton fanfic #lewis hamilton fic #lewis hamilton x black reader #lewis hamilton #lh44 #team lh44

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lilblackcheezits · 2 days

Text

fresh out of jail - E.Jaeger

your worst fear had came true, Eren had got caught dealing weed. He got three years in prison, three fucking year in jail, three year u had to be away from your boyfriend. It completely crushed you, how were going to be alone for 3 years?

Now Eren on the other hand was heartbroken, he missed his baby so fucking much it hurt, and it was all his fault, not being careful of what he was doing. He thought u we’re going to leave him, he didn’t think you would wait on him, but you loved Eren so much you would wait, cause he was worth waiting for.

1 year later

Eren was on his best behavior, hoping they would let him out early, and spoiler alert he gets out next week. He hasn’t told you about his release but he’s dying to see you, to hold you, to kiss those sweet lips of yours, do all those things he hasn’t done in a year. Him being in jail has been doing his biceps wonders, And you started going to the gym with all the free time you had, and gurlllll that ass was getting bigger(if that was even possible🤭) you look good if you do say so yourself.

That last week in jail never felt to longer, Eren just wanted to be home with you. Finally Monday was here and Connie came to pick Eren up, he just couldn’t wait to surprise you. The whole 30 minute drive to y’all’s house, Eren was just thinking about u. The effect you had on that man was crazy.

You were at home sitting on the couch, a throw blanket one your fresh showered body that smelt like coco butter, u had vaseline on ur lashes, chapstick on ur plump lips, the windows were cracked so the fresh air could flow through the house. Some romance movie was playing on the tv while you we scrolling through insta.

Finally Connie pulled into the driveway, they said there goodbyes and Eren started walking to unlock the front door as Connie pulled away. You we so deep in your phone you didn’t even hear the door open, Eren walked in taking his shoes off. He heard the tv so he walks towards the noise and he see you scroll through ur phone, man you looked like the prettiest thing on the earth.

“mama…” he says almost a whisper, you look up at him and your jaw drops “eren..” you stand up and he runs to hug you, “Eren oh my god- I’ve missed u so fuckin much” you say into his neck. “how are u here I thought u had 2 more years-hmm” he cuts you off with a kiss he’s been waiting so long to do again, and let me tell u this kiss was full of passion and lust, you both pull away because ur out of breath and that when you get a good look of Eren, and DAMN that’s man was ripped. The way his biceps were busting out of his shirt made u want to bust.

Eren noticed u taking a good look at him, and he liked it, he knew he got bigger and he just couldn’t wait to show u. “u look good ren” u say as u look up at him, just for him to by staring right down at u, giving you that smile he knows u love so much, “yea? how good?”

Now to be honest you don’t know how you got here.

“Fuckkkk ma” he smacks her ass “throw that shit on me” he groans. “yesyesyes don’t stop” u drag your words “u got so much fuckin tighter” he say throwing his head back “fuckkkk” he hissed

He’s just pounding into you and he doesn’t care, he misses you and this pussy too much to care. “you like that mama? u like when fuck you hard like this?”

your brain was to foggy to comprehend what he was saying so u we’re just nodding at everything he was saying

he pulled ur hair back so you can look at him in his eyes “i asked you something” “yes i- I love it when you fuck me like this” your honestly just babbling

“I- hngh i missed u s’much ren” “I missed u so much more baby i promise u i will never leave u again, i want to spend the rest of my life with you baby- fuck”

“me toooo ughhb ren imcummig imcumming holy fuckk im cummingg”

“yeah? make a mess on this dick cmon”

“yesyesyes oh my godd” ur practically screaming at this point its been so long since you had sex

Eren cums right after you still fucking his cum into you “ren m’sensitive” you say tiredly trying to push him away

he just smiles at the sight in front of him, his beautiful girlfriend looking all fucked out all because of him

he pulls out and gets up to go grab a warm rag and a blanket

When he gets back he sees y/n passed out on the couch, he wipes her up and puts the blanket over her sleeping body, then goes upstairs to change his clothes

He comes back downstairs to lay on the couch with her and eventually ends up falling asleep too

Eren couldn’t be more happier with being back home with his little mama

authors note!

im sorry if there misspelled words this is my first time writing something like this so i hope yall like it! - vaeh💗

#eren jaeger #eren x reader #plug eren x black reader #black reader #aot

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mysteria157 · 2 days

Text

Chapter Two

Pairing: Black Fem!Reader x Hitman Toji Fushiguro

**While I personally do not think this chapter is too dark and angsty, I AM NOT YOU, so please be sure to read the CWs before proceeding.**

CW: Profanity, Physical Abuse, ANGST, Emotional Manipulation, Naobito being a piece of shit, Hitman duties (idk what to call it), Blood and Violence, Depressive Thoughts, Obsessive Coping Mechanisms, Comfort, Toji being down bad.

Word Count: Don't worry about it.

Summary:

Toji hasn't always been cold and calculated. Beneath that harsh exterior is a boy who was made to feel like he never belonged in this world.

Authors Notes: Hello! Thank you all for waiting!

This fic is going to have dark elements as I've stated before. We all know that Toji suffered abuse from his family growing up and that's largely a reason why he acts the way he does. So I really wanted to explore that in my fic and specifically in this chapter.

As always, reblogs, comments, and likes are always appreciated! Enjoy and thank you for your support!

| Twitter | Ao3| Masterlist | Previous Chapter

Chapter Three: Coming Soon...

Dividers: @royallaesthetics @eloquentmoon | Header: created by myself (fanart from Pinterest)

**Do not plagiarize any of my works or translate without my permission!**

look at you.

still standing

after being

knocked down

and thrown out

-Alex Elle

*** Toji ***

The first time Toji tastes freedom, it’s a decade into his bleak existence, amidst the sweltering summer heat. The thick, humid air clings to his grimy skin and makes him feel more uncomfortable than usual. His room—or he supposes it’s a small house—is nestled among overgrown trees and an unkempt lawn.

To an outsider, his ‘home’ looks to be a greenhouse shed but with poorly painted walls and small windows. However, within the compound, it represents the dwelling of the man who tainted the revered Zenin bloodline. While they cannot exterminate the one who is responsible for polluting their family, they can make it seem like he never existed, to themselves and the outside world.

He’s far from the main house, but it’s quiet, and even though the breeze always feels nice between his matted hair, it always carries the undercurrent of trash from the large garbage can that rests against the compound walls next to his abode. It’s all he smells no matter the season. The garbage can is one you would find outside restaurants or large establishments, and when it’s trash day, a large truck parks on the other side of the compound, reaches long metal prongs over the white brick walls, and pulls the can over to dump it.

On trash day, it would be so easy for Toji to jump those walls, to hop on top of the plastic lid of the garbage can and let it carry him over. But like many things, fear and hopelessness hold him back. His entire family has never offered him a kind word or a smile, but they are nothing compared to his uncle. Naobito is the head of their family, feared by many within and outside of the compound. His position requires him to be good at many things, and if there is one thing Naobito is especially good at, it’s making Toji realize his insignificance.

“You think you can just leave? Where would you go, boy? No one in this city wants to take in another child. Especially one of low birth.”

“Insignificant.”

“Useless.”

“A stain on something we have worked hard to uphold.”

These words echo in his ears day after day, month after month, year after year, ever since he could comprehend words enough to know their sting. He’s always felt small, always believed the only purpose he has is to breathe and do nothing else.

But today is trash day…

Maybe it’s the hunger that has been gnawing at his stomach for the past two days or the discomfort of dirt clinging to his skin beneath his sweaty yukata. Maybe it’s the sting on his cheek from his uncle’s morning slap, the mocking reminder for the millionth time not to dare do anything besides what he is told. Maybe staring too long at the garbage can and feeling his heart jump when the truck parks on the other side of the walls is a sign; a fleeting feeling within him, his own body telling him to do something before he withers away.

It all sparks a sudden surge of strength, propelling him to climb on top of the plastic garbage lid as the metal prongs dig into each side of the can and lift him and the trash. Adrenaline helps him dig his fingers into the plastic of the lid as gravity pulls him over the walls of the Zenin compound.

He’s prepared to be tackled and dragged by his hair back inside before anyone can see him. He’s ready to fight back with the remains of his strength if he needs to. But as he slides off the garbage lid and his feet touch the cobblestone ground, only silence greets him. The trash collectors don’t see him and they drive away without turning back and he’s grateful. He’s so grateful, he can hardly breathe.

The compound isn’t in the middle of the city center like he once thought. From the many festivals and jovial sounds he would hear on the other side of the walls, he expected bustling laughter and sounds of merchants advertising their goods. But it turns out, the compound is perched on a hillside. He guesses it makes sense for one of Japan’s wealthiest families to be tucked away for safety and overlooking the world to feel more powerful.

Even though he can see what looks to be a village a walking distance away, the compound also overlooks the city and a large river that Toji doesn’t know the name of. He’s never been taught anything, never learned how to read, never learned basic arithmetic or history. He knows nothing other than the fact that he lives in Tokyo, to eat the rancid food he is given and not talk back when his uncle visits him to teach him a lesson about whatever is bothering him that day.

Laughter echoes in the distance, the unmistakable laughter of children—maybe some his own age. Some who won’t sneer at him as if he’s a piece of shit stuck to their shoe.

His legs carry him towards the village, the sounds of the breeze dying down to be replaced with yelling and laughter and normalcy he’s never heard before. Vaguely, his mind screams at him to go back home so he doesn’t suffer later, but he squashes it down. He will do anything to see faces besides the angry ones of his family, to breathe in scents beyond garbage and contempt, and to taste flavors other than the remnants of meals prepared by the Zenin’s esteemed live-in chef.

Ignoring the persistent growl of hunger in his stomach, his mind focuses on absorbing the sounds of the bustling marketplace that he finds himself in. Vendors haggle with customers, offering a variety of goods—fresh produce, meat, and fish—all waiting to be transformed into dishes that Toji wishes he could eat. The uneven cobblestones are ragged beneath his feet, not smooth and pressed down like in front of the compound. These stones protrude from the soil they are rooted into and catch on the thin shoes that barely protect Toji’s feet. But he navigates the crowds seamlessly, wide-eyed at the unfamiliar sights around him even though the brush of people against his body makes the hairs on the back of his neck rise.

An elderly man dozes off beside a vendor stand empty of customers. A woman, younger but with a haggard face, stands guard at the makeshift register, casting a cautious glance in Toji’s direction. He can feel her disapproval and with her gaze, the weight of his disobedience settles upon him—he should be at the compound, under his uncle’s hateful eyes. Hastily, he averts his gaze and quickens his pace, disappearing into the crowd with newfound urgency.

His ears pick it up before his nose smells it—the sound of sizzling and the smell of dough. Toji can’t help but gawk at the long rows of metal scoops, each containing batter with octopus, pickled ginger, and tempura. The sides bubble and cook, frying from the yellow of fresh yolk before the vendor’s deft utensils turn over each ball of dough, revealing perfectly cooked Takoyaki. He’s tasted it before, albeit soggy and half-eaten, but the memory now stirs a desperate craving within him. He could have it now; fresh and untainted by someone else’s bite. But the lining of his pockets holds nothing but lint; he’s poor with not a penny to his name.

The vendor sets her utensils to the side, pausing in her efforts to catch Toji’s wary attention. When his gaze meets hers, he’s stiff and ready to flee. He’s sure the Zenin family’s influence looms large over the city; she could easily summon someone and report his escape. He’s not ready to go—he won’t. As he edges backward, his thin shoes slip on the uneven cobblestones, nearly causing him to stumble.

But whatever look is in her eyes softens, replaced by something unfamiliar—a warmth that unsettles him, makes him almost nauseous, quelling his hunger while stoking the flames of fear in his belly. Her gaze sweeps over him—his disheveled hair, grimy yukata, the smear of dirt on his cheek. Instead of scowling or sneering and spitting at his feet, she smiles. Soft and warm without any pretense behind it, a genuine smile that makes Toji relax and the fear dissipate. She plates a dozen takoyaki into a long paper bowl, tops them with Kewpie mayonnaise, bonito flakes, and powdered seaweed, and shoves a pair of chopsticks into one perfectly rolled fried dough ball before she slides the bowl over to him.

“Eat up before it gets cold, honey,” she says kindly and the tone almost makes the breath in his throat catch.

Snatching the bowl, Toji’s actions mirror the desperate way he consumes the food that Naobito tosses at his feet after withholding a meal for days. Along with an education, he was never taught manners. His cousins know which forks to use for every dish, he knows to use his hands and savor anything he can get before it’s taken away. He offers the vendor a brief nod, eyes shy and looking away from her for as long as he can muster before he ducks away from the stall.

The takoyaki melts on his tongue and he can taste every speck of seasoning that she added. Ignoring the wary glances directed his way, he licks Kewpie off his fingers, uncaring of the bonito flakes that cling to his chapped lips. It’s the best thing he’s ever eaten—delicious, warm, fills his belly, and when he finally wipes the bonito flakes from his lips some tears collect with it. He doesn’t acknowledge the sadness that climbs up his stomach and nestles in the back of his throat. He can’t—what use would it be to cry over a life that will never change? Over a meal for once prepared for him and not someone else?

He stuffs the remaining takoyaki down his throat to push down the urge to sob, savors the taste for as long as he can, and sucks the seasoning from under his fingernails just as he feels something bump into his feet. When he looks down, he can at least recognize that it’s a soccer ball. The dirt turns the white patterns on it almost black, and it looks well-used.

“You gonna give that back, or just stare at it?” a voice demands.

Toji collects the dirty soccer ball and looks up to find a boy who might—hopefully—be his age. His black hair is short and his eyes hold an expression of boredom and grit that reminds Toji a little of himself. He holds out his hand and gestures for Toji to hand over the ball with so much impatience that Toji glares, tossing the ball back without a word. In truth, he’s struck silent because this is the first time in his life that he’s seen another kid his age who doesn’t look down on him from the encouragement of family.

The kid purses his lips, a bushy eyebrow lifting as he thinks something over in his head before he meets Toji’s gaze. He tosses the ball from one hand to the other, back and forth with a practiced air that Toji wishes he had. He’s skinny but his cheeks are full and his arms aren’t bony which shows he’s well-fed. He doesn’t wear a yukata but his shorts and shirt are freshly washed and free of stains from constant use—just dirt off the ground from playing.

Envy, it’s the only thing that Toji can feel in this moment. Because this kid gets to eat food for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. He gets to wear nice clothes, play with friends, and breathe air that’s fresh and smells of takoyaki. It’s not fair. It’s not—

“You wanna play?”

Toji’s eyes widen at the unexpected invitation. Play? With another kid? He’s seen his cousins play with each other in the large expansive fields of the compound but he was never allowed to join. He’s familiar with games he’s made up on his own—counting how many times a bird chirps before noon or how many different animals he can imagine in the clouds—but playing with someone else?

“It’s nothing crazy, you don’t gotta think so hard about it. You comin’ or not?”

Toji hesitates, his fingers bending the sides of the now-empty plastic bowl in his hands. He really should head back to the compound because it’s been over an hour. Someone has to have tried to come to his shed and bully him by now. He has to go back. He has to.

But—

“Okay,” Toji replies instead and follows the kid down the cobblestone street.

***

It’s dusk when he finally reaches the white brick of the compound walls again. The evening breeze is thankfully not as sticky as earlier in the day and glides through his hair to cool the sweat on the back of his neck. His skin is dirty from the people he brushed against in the alleyway, from running in fields with a speed he never knew he had, from kicking a soccer ball and falling into the grass to play with a friend he can now call, Shiu. His fingers are tacky from the Kewpie that he licked off hours ago as well as seasoning from the Yakitori chicken skewers that Shiu conned off a vendor.

He never knew he could have so much fun. He’s never been able to experience it once in his life and having to say goodbye to Shiu, to lie and say he would be back in a few days, makes his stomach curdle with sadness and his eyes sting with tears that he’s too elated right now to let fall.

The compound walls, once towering and frightening, now seem conquerable. With a full belly and a newfound sense of strength, Toji takes a running start, vaulting over the barrier and landing with a thud in the neglected grass. He falls to his knees and plops into the cushion of the ground, rolling onto his back with a huff.

He doesn’t know where it comes from, but he giggles, it’s light and unexpected, mingling with the night air, and helps his lips curl into a rare smile. He gazes up at the starry sky, stars that he wishes he had names for but still uses their presence to create warriors and animals to tell himself stories on nights when he can’t sleep.

“No matter what I tell you, you still never listen.”

The sound of his uncle’s voice shoots an electric jolt of fear down Toji’s spine, propelling him to his knees before he can draw another breath. He can’t have his back on Naobito, he needs to have his eyes on every movement even though it won’t make a difference.

His breath is lodged in his lungs, forming a tight knot that constricts his chest and parches his throat. The sight of his uncle, the sound of his voice, and the scent of his overpowering cologne, make him break into a sweat immediately. It’s a Pavlovian response and his body yearns for some sort of survival instinct that has long since been beaten out of him. But he tries, god does he try to defend himself every time.

Toji sits back on his haunches, shooting an ineffective glare up at his uncle that does little to penetrate the unnaturally smooth texture of Naobito’s skin. Toji can’t run, where would he go? To the other side of the compound where another member of his family can grab him by the hair and drag him back to the underbrush? To the front gates that are always locked and manned by security guards who control who can enter and exit?

“I’m guessing you ran your mouth to everyone you saw. Told those commoners that you’re a poor, neglected boy trapped in the clutches of the Zenin family.” Toji should have done that, but he was too caught up in good food and having friends like a kid should. He shakes his head at his uncle, unwilling to form words that bubble with the now overwhelming queasiness within him. “Oh I’m sure you did, didn’t you?”

Toji shakes his head again, more eager, more insistent even though his heart begins to race in his chest. What’s the point in trying to prove himself to someone who’s already made up their mind? It’s useless, Toji knows that, but he continues to be honest, shaking his head over and over, hoping that maybe just this once, his uncle will believe him.

Naobito scoffs, his peppered mustache twitching with the movement of his mouth. The raven hair on his scalp is always gelled and brushed back no matter the time of day. He exudes wealth in tailored suits and eloquence with a nasty edge that cements his authority within the family. He’s a mean man, a rotten man. A man who subjects Toji to torment no matter the time of day.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if the authorities are on their way here right now. Ready to arrest your family, to haul away your catatonic mother so she can’t defend you.”

Naobito’s words are a sharpened tool of manipulation, Toji knows the pierce of it against his skin. But the thought that his own actions would endanger someone else, makes him start, to open his mouth in a plea.

“I didn’t—”

But before he can say another word, a searing pain grips his scalp, forcing a hiss of agony from his lips as Naobito yanks him by the hair through the thick grass and drags him away. Knotweed scratches his face and scrapes against his ankles as he kicks desperately, trying to find purchase on the ground before his uncle can do anything else.

His heart pounds in a recognizable rhythm, adrenaline coursing weakly through his veins, its effects dulled by the overwhelming fear. His fighting doesn’t matter. Toji knows the routine all too well—the sensation of the wooden floor beneath his back when he falls onto it, the sting of a slap across his face, the ache of a knee to his gut.

Toji hasn’t sobbed in front of his uncle in a long time, but he can’t suppress the wretched sound that escapes him as the yakitori and takoyaki resurface and leave his mouth bitter. It feels like the worst punishment he’s ever received, the consequence of eating wonderful food that was never meant for a peasant like him. He took it in, and now it’s on the ground.

He shouldn’t have jumped the walls. He shouldn’t have even thought about it.

Stupid.

Worthless.

Insignificant.

“Now what did we learn?” his uncle’s bored drawl cuts through the air, indifferent as his own flesh and blood cries in front of him. It’s just another day for him and he enacts punishment based on ideals that have been hammered into him by his own father and the father before him.

Naobito pulls a silk handkerchief from his pocket, wiping away specks of blood from his knuckles. His perfectly groomed hair is now disheveled, falling over his eyes, glowering with disdain down at his nephew. Towering over him, Naobito radiates dominance, his imposing stature a constant reminder of Toji’s weakness. Toji hates it. He hates Naobito. He hates his entire family. He hates that his very existence brings so much distaste to those who should be protecting him.

His ears are ringing and his face hurts, and large, calloused hands grip Toji’s cheeks, squeezing them painfully and forcing his gaze upward to lock with evil eyes. His charcoal irises hold no depth or uniqueness and they’re devoid of warmth. Pure hatred, it’s all that oozes from his uncle’s gaze. He’s endured that hateful look every day for the past decade, yet it feels just as fresh as the day before, just as painful to the inside of him.

Toji chokes on a tight breath, groaning against the pressure of nails digging into his skin. He’s devastated by the stench of sweat, dirt, and vomit, and he’s so tired. All sense of strength that filled his hollow bones on the other side of the walls evaporated as soon as the sound of his uncle’s voice shot into his ears like a rifle.

“I said,” Naobito begins, voice low and filled with venom. His breath smells faintly of whiskey, but Toji knows he would inflict this pain upon his nephew completely sober. “What did we learn?”

Through the delirium of it all, beneath the horrible smells around him and the pain that radiates from his stomach up to his hairline, he registers the tremble in his body. He’s shaking, quaking in the grip of a family member who has done nothing but terrorize him as early as he can remember. Toji wants to spit in his face, wrap his hands around his pale neck, and squeeze until the life leaves his body.

But he’s not strong enough. He will never be strong enough.

So he does what he’s been conditioned to do, what he knows will appease his tormentor.

“I’m useless,” Toji whispers, tears finally welling in his eyes, shame gnawing at his gut. No child should ever have to utter those words, yet Toji speaks them daily.

Naobito hums in satisfaction, sickly sweet, eliciting a sharp twist in Toji’s stomach. If he throws up, he hopes it gets on his uncle’s finely pressed suit. He hopes the stains never come out, hopes he has to throw it away and spend more money for a new one.

“And what else? You are…?”

The pucker of Toji’s lips quivers as they curl to form the words and his vision swims. The sight of his uncle becomes hazy, and Toji is thankful that he can’t see his face if only for a moment.

“I’m…insignificant.”

Even though his uncle’s features are a blur, Toji can still see the whites of his teeth as he smiles. It only makes the tears fall quicker and scalding, dripping down dirty cheeks and onto his uncle’s fingers that still dig into his cheeks. He recoils in disgust, shoving Toji away as if he’s been burned. The fingers are gone, free from their biting grip, but Toji can still feel the indentation of them on his cheeks, branded and there to stay for as long as he lives.

Clutching the wooden floor beneath him, Toji’s nails try to burrow into the hard surface and he desperately wishes the floorboards could open up and swallow him whole. Tears stream down without reservation, smacking onto the dark wood next to his dirty fingers. Since his birth, he’s known not an ounce of happiness, not an ounce of peace or love, and is always the subject of his family’s wrath. He’s just come to accept what he’s forced to repeat day after day. Of what he is.

Insignificant.

Useless.

And that thought, the terrible and ever-present thought that his life has no meaning, only makes him cry harder. They’re harsh sobs that rattle in his chest and make him hiccup with every inhale, and he can’t stop them. Finally, his uncle has taught him a valuable lesson.

Somewhere in the distance, he hears Naobito scoff as he stands on his feet and readies to retreat and leave Toji in his misery. The routine will continue in the morning—cold water through a garden hose to shower him down, leftover breakfast from the main house, and another dusty yukata to wear.

Toji knows it like the back of his hand. And like so many times before, Naobito rolls his eyes, stuffs his dirty handkerchief into his pocket, and utters the same words.

“Stop—

***

“—fucking sniveling.”

It’s the third time Toji has to say it in so few minutes and his patience is wearing thin. They always get like this, it shouldn’t surprise him, yet his annoyance refuses to morph into practiced indifference, despite his years on the job. A part of him recognizes the fear in the man’s voice and the tears that run down his cheeks. He held that same emotion and cried many times through years of beatings.

But that was a long time ago, and this is different. This isn’t a man who has spent years under the abuse of his family, this is a target, successfully hunted down by Toji. Right now, it’s just another Tuesday. Another contract. Another paycheck.

Toji doesn’t give them names; attaching emotion is pointless in a job he is always eager to finish so he can get paid. But he needs something to keep his mind focused; so he uses adjectives or random words to effectively detach himself. His current target’s name? Greasy.

The moniker suits him, evident from the persistent shine on his bald head, the stain of sweat that builds at his collar, and a dingy button-up that hugs his beer belly. His beady eyes are filled with tears, his lower lids red and swollen and a thin chapped lip split down the middle. He squirms and wiggles in his chair and every part of him seems slimy, reminiscent of a snake fresh from its egg. And Toji hates snakes.

What the hell is he again? A stock broker? Hedge fund manager? Toji doesn’t really remember nor does he really care, it’s not relevant anyway. His career is but a small stepping stone for figuring out the best approach for reconnaissance.

It takes Toji a week to track Greasy’s movements in the vastness of the city that is part of America. Despite Toji’s skills in navigation, everything is unfamiliar. But he adapts quickly—he has to.

Greasy works a typical nine-to-five and has a corner office in a nice skyrise downtown that he spends most of his time taking personal phone calls inside of instead of working. Toji knows because the building across the street is empty and just as tall with large glass windows that are blacked out to those on the outside. On the 42nd floor, Toji has a perfect view of the back of his target and watches every day to note every detail of his routine.

For lunch, Toji stealthily follows Greasy to the same 7-Eleven at 12:35 PM, watches him purchase the same cherry slushie and tuna melt for ten dollars, and grimaces beneath the cloth mask that covers his mouth as he watches Greasy scarf down the food like the pig he is on the journey back to the office. At 5 PM, Greasy walks from the office to the train station, takes the Red Line to another city, and arrives home thirty minutes later.

The routine is as mundane and uninspired as the man himself. Yet, it’s the days marked by suspicious behavior from his client that pique Toji’s interest. Those are the days Greasy indulges, presenting the perfect opportunity for Toji to strike.

On Monday and Wednesday, Greasy tells his wife he has to work late and clocks out at 4:45 PM, riding the same Red Line but exiting the train at a stop before his usual. He climbs into a shiny Mercedes, kisses a much younger blonde woman, and disappears until 11 PM when his client reports that he’s arrived home. Like many others of his kind—seedy and grimy and consumed with themselves—Greasy remains oblivious to Toji’s presence. The last thing on his mind is his wife and children as he indulges in infidelity.

He’s climbed the ranks of his job but failed to realize the ease of it is from his wife’s influence. He’s too selfish to recognize that cheating on a governor with a dark side would not only incur her wrath but also put her in the spotlight due to his carelessness. He’s too conceited to realize his mistress only fucks him because her house and car are being paid as long as she continues to entertain him. He’s stupid in the best way for a mission like this, and ignorant of the world around him.

It turns out, Greasy has been fucking on the side for half of his marriage. And he’s been taking a little bit of his wife’s money that she earns as a politician to fuel his alternative lifestyle. His wife is easy on the eyes, gave the loser two kids, and remained faithful even though her husband slept with anything that had a pulse. The only things Greasy gives his wife in return are two children and an STD. She’s angry, distraught, and filled with rage. Rightfully so.

Thanks to the help of the department in his organization that handles all things technological, Toji is able to SIM swap the mistress’s phone and send Greasy a message to meet her in a different location. Specifically, one of the many random establishments throughout the city that have been bought by his organization under the guise of something else.

Greasy walks into Toji’s trap, ignorant and vulnerable, and now here he sits—tied up and squealing. This contract is so easy that it’s almost upsetting. He doesn’t usually like to get his hands dirty, but mental stimulation would have been a nice distraction.

Toji doesn’t get it—cheating. He’s always been one to stick with a woman and take what he can before he moves on to the next. While his intentions are never worth a gold star, he does things one woman at a time. Cheating seems…exhausting. And he’s been exhausted for most of his life to stay away from it if he can.

He’s not one to be tied down anyway.

At least he thought so.

“Earn me.”

Your words echo in his mind, a precursor to what might become a throbbing migraine because he shouldn’t be thinking about you right now. You shouldn’t be in the dark, bloody recesses of his thoughts focused on killing. The room will only stain your smooth brown skin and ruin you, consume you, and corrupt you in ways beyond repair. He can’t afford your gaze to turn into anything other than teasing or annoyed when you look at him.

“I s-swear. I’ll do-do wh-whate-ever you say just—“

Whiny. Sobbing. Annoying.

“Shut up,” Toji grumbles, using the muzzle of his Glock 43 to massage his temple.

He’s tired, his brain now pulsating and being fueled by the stench of Greasy’s body. Despite the amount of money that he can get from revenge contracts, they are typically handled by those ranked lower than him. Revenge contracts deal with anything personal: infidelity, a family member that is despised just enough to warrant making them disappear, two legal companies doing whatever they can to take the other down. Anything with a vendetta.

They are driven by anger, hatred, and bitterness. Heavy and unnecessary emotions that Toji has to deal with before he can complete the job. Clients often demand specific proofs of guilt, from signed confessions in blood to videos of their target with tearful apologies to a picture of a severed finger if they are demented enough. To the client, it’s freeing. To the world, it’s insanity. But to Toji, it’s tedious and he has no choice but to get it done.

He pulls out his phone, ignoring the absence of notifications from you, and dials the burner number provided to all clients.

“Is it done?”

Most wives would be a sniveling mess under such circumstances. But not this one. She’s been wronged to a degree that her sadness washed away a long time ago and all that was left was rage, revenge, and unyielding determination. It takes a special someone who has been really hurt to stoop this low into darkness.

“Not yet, honey. Doing what you wanted remember?”

Toji sighs, putting his phone on speaker as finally rests his gaze on the disheveled and pissy state of Greasy. His other hand steadies the gun aimed at Greasy’s dick and the hiccuping words flow once again. He’s so goddamn loud. Toji needs Ibuprofen, food, a fucking text from you (but he’s not thinking about that right now), and some sleep.

Greasy has already exhausted the usual litany of cries, but Toji endures the same performance again for his client on the phone.

“I’m sorry!”

“I won’t do it again!”

“Please give me another chance!”

Blah, blah, fucking blah.

In the early years of Toji’s time in darkness, he watched this performance firsthand. It’s a feeble attempt to cling to life, words uttered in desperation on the precipice of death, holding little substance. Once the adrenaline dies down, old habits resurface, seeping through the cracks formed by fear. And Greasy’s wife won’t be willing to pay such a hefty price a second time.

Removing the phone from speaker, Toji presses it firmly to his ear to drown out Greasy’s heightened cries. “You get all that, honey?”

“…yes.”

Mrs. Greasy sounds a little unsure, but she can’t back down now. That’s the other irritating thing about revenge contracts. Deeds fueled by emotion are unpredictable, and in a business like this, you need to be absolutely certain of what you agree to. She could back down, but then that means she knows about this little business and Toji’s organization will have no choice but to come after her.

No, he needs this signed and sealed with a deposit in his account by the end of the night.

Toji waves the gun dismissively, rolling his eyes at Greasy’s flinching. “You wanna stay on for the rest?” It’s a courtesy Toji always extends, twisted though it may be, offering some semblance of closure to his clients.

Greasy’s face is a mess of mucus and sweat, and the front of his pants is wet. It’s fucking disgusting, but there’s a part of Toji that revels in the sight. Perhaps it’s the years of desensitization, but Toji relishes seeing those who deserve to get their due. Rotten people. Terrible people. And while cheaters aren’t inherently evil, they seldom learn until their world crumbles around them.

“Just get it done,” Mrs. Greasy replies firmly, though a tremor in her voice betrays her fear. She should be afraid and drowning her worries in bottles of wine tonight. It’s one of many logical responses to ordering the death of a cheating husband. She hangs up without another word.

Normally, Toji has a few words before he pulls the trigger or tightens the noose or whatever nefarious thing he’s ordered to do before his target goes limp. But the throbbing in his head has blossomed into a migraine just as he expected, he hasn’t eaten in ten hours, and he hasn’t heard from you since last night.

To put it quite simply, Toji is pissed off.

So he cocks his gun and does what he needs to do.

Despite the deafening roar of the gun, the ensuing silence is gratifying to his head. He doesn’t bother with the mess, that’s someone else’s job and he shoots off the text to the appropriate party. In a few hours, Greasy’s body will be dealt with in whatever way the cleaning crew decides. A death certificate will be signed by a coroner and an autopsy report will be forged by a pathologist—two of many on his organization’s payroll—and to the public Mr. Greasy will have been a loving man killed by his own heart. It’s almost poetic how efficiently things are run.

Thick red droplets splatter the grimy concrete, falling in a rhythmic cadence Toji knows all too well. Scenes like this are etched into his psyche, a constant hum in the background of his thoughts like a relentless generator. The instinctual response is to recoil, to scream, to flee at the sight.

But Toji has learned to numb himself to the gore and violence of his profession. To reach the level he has attained, to gain that notoriety, he had to confront the brutality without flinching. He had to absorb it, dream about it, and recall it with clarity when necessary, sketching it on a canvas as if it were fresh in his mind.

Despite the beating he received, the small taste of freedom Toji savored at ten years old was just the beginning. Sneaking out became a routine and it didn’t take long for him to learn from Shiu how to swindle, scam, and steal. Every time he scaled the walls of the compound, Naobito’s wrath got longer and more painful. As if to teach him a lesson, as if the pain would make him fall back in line.

But his uncle failed to realize that he took that hope from Toji long before he decided to seek more freedom. He had taken everything from him. He had nothing left to lose.

On the day that he learned of his mother’s passing, he leaped over the white brick walls and never returned.

The streets became his domain, cobblestones his makeshift bed unless a caring vendor offered him a room for the night or Shiu was able to convince his parents to let Toji sleep over for a few days. They ran the streets together with other kids their age, and as they grew, so did the prevalence of crime.

It didn’t take long for Toji to get mean, to embrace the cruelty that always radiated from his uncle’s pores. Survival demanded ferocity and each fight he got into honed his strength and capacity for violence until it simmered perpetually beneath his skin.

Despite the bloodshed ingrained in his past, Toji shies away from memories of his first kill. He was too young, too naive, and too angry. He refuses to conjure the face of his victim, to entertain the image of the man he eliminated in defense of an older woman who was being attacked. He pushes that memory down into a dark corner where he can never see it. He refuses to remember more.

But Toji does remember how cold it was that night—the rain, the tremble of his hands around the gun, the precision he summoned, the hollow emptiness that followed. Naobito’s influence had carved out any trace of emotion, leaving behind a vessel capable only of detached efficiency. It’s so ironic that it’s laughable. He became the very thing he feared.

When larger and more menacing gangs began to cast their shadows, Toji realized it wouldn’t be long until he would have to fall into one just to survive. He remembers a member from one of the more vicious gangs recruiting him. Not Yakuza, but just as structured and disciplined with a hideout, hot food, and warm beds. How could he possibly say no?

In a year, Toji ascended the ranks, earning his place as Wakagashira—second in command—at the age of seventeen. If someone needed to disappear, Toji was the man to get it done. Morals were luxuries he couldn’t afford; his survival depended on their sacrifice.

Those efforts paid off. He moved from the local hardcore gang to a legitimate organization that gave him a mentor who showed him how to read, encouraged him to get his GED, and taught him how to be disciplined and mature. He began to get paid for his work and his world changed.

He no longer had to think about his next meal; it was always within reach. He no longer endured cold showers from a garden hose and the leaky roof of his shed; he had comfort and a cheap apartment. He no longer sought affection; it was thrust upon him by every woman his age who could breathe the same air as him.

Everything that he has earned in his life, has been by his own hand, his own skill, his own diligence.

But no amount of money and comfort can wash away the brutal beginnings of his life.

Toji swipes his finger on his phone screen, a new ritualized distraction that gives him satisfaction when he watches a row of orange jewels disappear. He’s reached level 150. And while he can’t make any money playing Candy Crush, it still fuels the addiction that he used to harness when he places bets. He has yet to admit freely that he’s a gambler, but you’re no idiot. His determination to win as many games of Spades on the 4th of July at your uncle’s was the first giveaway.

“Jesus. You always this messy?” a voice from behind him calls out, prompting Toji’s hand to instinctively fly to the gun on his side as he whirls around. His breathing halts in reflex, ears straining to capture any subtle sound to give him an advantage. Yet, the sight that meets his eyes—a group of people clad in grey jumpsuits, their insignia faded—elicits only a frustrated exhale. “This how you do things over in Japan?”

There’s an undertone to the comment that Toji recognizes, but doesn’t bother to acknowledge as he walks past the crew and out of the warehouse. There’s no point entertaining them. No matter the contract, the cleaning crew always complains. New recruits in the organization, no matter how promising, have to work their way up and show they can handle any job. So Toji knows what it’s like to complain during cleanup.

But it is true, this isn’t how Toji does things. He’s quick and precise without leaving a mess, silent and stealthy—a reputation that has elevated him within the ranks. He’s heard the whispers, and seen the way those of lower rank either tense up or shine their eyes at him when he’s near. His boss boasts of him as Japan’s notorious hitman—nameless yet highly sought after for his efficiency. The Invisible Man.

With his years in the game, Toji can call the shots on how he does things. He only kills scum. Scum lower than himself. Raised in squalor, abused by those meant to care for him, he knows evil intimately. Each bullet he delivers to his targets brings a semblance of peace, and a sense of justice to his troubled soul.

There was a point in his life when he wasn’t so troubled. Somewhere beneath the layers of filth and pain lies a man sheonce knew—a man of tenderness and warmth, embraced for a fleeting moment. A brief, yet exquisite time filled with the gentle caress of her hands, the comforting cadence of her voice, and the birth of a son, a fragment of her very soul. She was able to push through the anger he gave, wrap her hands around his, and never let go.

But like all things in Toji’s life, he’s constantly reminded that he is nothing. That he deserves nothing. And the world made sure to take her away to reaffirm that devastating fact. Six years of barely holding himself together in front of a child who needed him, made him realize he needed to do better.

He’s not ready to give up his career just yet—he’s not sure if he ever can. However, one thing he is sure he can do is provide his son with a better life. He’s not the best father, he will admit to it, and he always has enough connections to give Megumi protection from his family and the dangers of his job. But it’s not enough anymore. He needs to be more involved, more attentive, more of a parent to fill the hole left by his mother. He can make sure his son has a childhood worth remembering.

Not like his own.

America is big, which means more opportunity, which means more money, and an entire continent away from the echoes of his past.

He should forge a future worth pursuing—a future where his kid can have simple joys he never got to experience; maybe a dog, a nice private school, and a father with a convenient job. Retirement flits through his mind more frequently these days, but he knows that truly getting out of the business may be next to impossible. A small part of him longs for that freedom again, a chance to escape all the shadows of his past. However, as his phone buzzes with yet another notification, he’s jolted back to the grim reality that he lives in.

Unknown: Not your usual leftovers but you still got the job done. You should have your payment later today.

Toji: Good. No more revenge contracts. I mean it.

Unknown: I have another if you’re interested, a classic one and done. Want to get you situated in the new market before people start demanding you.

Toji: Gimme a week.

Unknown: I can do that.

***

He’s downed three Ibuprofen, scarfed McDonald’s, and washed away the remnants of blood and frustration from his skin. In the bathroom mirror, his chest is flushed from the vigorous scrubbing, his scars appearing more pronounced against the backdrop of crimson. Each scar serves as a stark reminder of his tumultuous life, where every gain is intertwined with bloodshed and agony.

Under the dim glow of the streetlights outside your uncle’s house, you likely didn’t notice the scars that mar his skin, a fact for which he’s grateful. It would only be more that he would have to lie to you about and he hasn’t thought of the story that he will tell you when you finally ask him.

He has no idea what sort of card he’s pulled to have you in his life. You deserve someone accomplished—a doctor, lawyer, or politician—certainly not a man who deals in bullets and bloodshed, someone like him. Men like Toji don’t deserve the kindness of a woman. Men like Toji don’t deserve the softness of skin scented with Shea butter and a hint of vanilla or the radiance of sunlight dancing on curly hair. Everything good and beautiful in this world slips from his scarred fingers.

He feels insignificant, worthless, a stray wandering the streets, latching onto any speck of attention. Yet, despite your piercing glares and the thin thread that you have him on, you possess a warmth surrounded by fiery edges. The urge to subject himself to that searing heat is almost unbearable.

Both of your lives are consumed with demanding professions; his by contracts, yours by on-call duties and long shifts. It’s been about a week since your date and you both text frequently. You’re busy with your fifth consecutive 12-hour shift and you haven’t messaged him all day. He knows you’re busy, but there’s a piece of him that has been trained to expect unhappiness.

Deep down, he knows you have every right to cut ties with him forever. He’s deceiving you in the worst possible way. If you were to uncover his deeds, the dark agreements he’s made and completed, you would surely turn away without a second glance. He had no intention of wanting more of you after that night. But women like you are rare, fleeting in appearance and he’s a selfish fucker. So, so selfish.

He was ready to ask you out again before the reality of his harsh world dragged him away. A contract that he thought would be simple and quick, had dragged into a week-long affair; interrupting little moments he could be spending with you.

In those moments, alone with his gaze fixed on Greasy as he observed his behavior, he thought of you. He thought of seeing you again when you’re not yelling and screaming at a referee. Maybe for dinner? Somewhere decent where he can snicker at the way you glare at him in the low lights. Somewhere he can see you in a dress besides the red one he met you in, curls framing your face, naturally long lashes narrowing as he flirts with you without shame.

The knowledge that he doesn’t know more about you, leaves an odd fluttering in his stomach that he can only describe as annoyance. He’s known you for over a month but you are as mysterious as you are beautiful. With his skills, he could easily dig into the far corners of his organization to discover more about you. But the mere thought of knowing parts of you without your permission leaves a bitter taste in his mouth.

He’s slept around enough to know a good-looking woman when he sees one, and you stood out like a genuine gem amidsta sea of counterfeit trinkets. Toji can’t deny that he approached you that night with a certain goal in mind, but the instant he looked down and called you ‘princess’, the minute you shot him a glare that could rival a city’s destruction, he was hooked.

He’s drawn to women who are independent, strong-willed, and able to speak up for themselves. The assertive ones were rare until he met you. That night at your uncle’s, you exuded a resoluteness he had never encountered before. You took pleasure solely for yourself, oblivious to the fact that your selfishness merely made you more enticing, inviting him to sink his fingers into your flesh and take root indefinitely. He had never been so delirious with lust, so utterly out of control with his body as you took and took. The sex was amazing, toe-curling, and intense but it wasn’t just that, it was you.

You, you, you—fuck.

Normally, he’s content with momentary encounters with women; lingering around for a few weeks, taking what they offer until he moves on to the next. It’s a practiced air that he’s used to breathing.

Breathe in—a good fuck on Monday that has a little bit of money for him to take advantage of until Friday. Breathe out—she’s had enough of him or he’s taken his fill and he finds a nice brunette on Saturday.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

But the air is a lot thinner when he tries to breathe you in, tight in his chest and too much but also not enough.

Because you’re a fierce little thing, yet he can see hints of vulnerability beneath the steely resolve of your gaze, a softness rarely revealed to others—especially men and those who challenge you. There’s a familiarity in that vulnerability, a long-forgotten sensation buried deep within him, hidden away in that same dusty recess of his being that’s been rattling for attention a lot more lately.

The allure of you is like a swift current within a crystal-clear stream, beckoning him to immerse himself despite the rocky terrain beneath. Against his better judgment, he’s plunged headfirst without thinking about what he’s doing—about what’s at stake—and letting the current take him away.

You must have seen something in him, because, despite your protests and excuses, you dropped your defenses enough to show more of yourself. Enough to smile at the daisies he gave you when you thought he couldn’t see. Enough to mold your soft lips against his one more time.

His mind wanders back to the present again and falls into a familiar urge that has to be satiated. He knows that whatever it is, it stems from his childhood, but he doesn’t know how to stop it. He runs his fingers over his skin, tracing each scar he’s come to memorize to ensure nothing appears out of place. He can distinguish those from Naobito’s cruel hands and those earned from years in the field. He knows. Yet, he still feels the need to double-check, from the locks on the front door to the latches on every window, even poking his head into the attic before bed just for reassurance.

He has to be sure that he’s safe, that he is secure in his home, away from prying eyes because Naobito could be his neighbor. He could be here in the US, here in this city, here watching his every move and he has to be safe.

His fingers tremble against the cool porcelain of the bathroom sink as his heart races, each breath shaky and uneven as it falls from his throat, his eyes fluttering to push away the sting as he begins his own routine that comes up a few times a week. A steady mantra to quell his rising panic.

He’s not here.

He will never be here.

He will never hurt you again.

You’re safe.

He hasn’t had to worry about Naobito in a very long time, but the logic of that falls to the wayside no matter the time of day. He doesn’t want to talk to anyone about it, he’s fine. The fear and pain will fade away with time.

It will.

The chime of his phone interrupts his thoughts and makes him flinch. He exhales another shaky breath and presses the heels of his palms into his eye sockets, using the pressure to ground himself and get his thoughts back in order so he can go about his day with what remains of his sanity.

“Fuck,” Toji whispers and slides large hands down his face before snatching up his phone and making his way to his living room to plop on his couch.

Toji rolls onto his side, the cotton of the couch pillowing his cheek as he stares at the eggshell wall of his living room. The house he’s purchased is spacious, more than he’s ever had, but it’s not for him. It’s for Megumi. His son deserves a proper home, a place to grow and thrive. But it lacks warmth, devoid of the touches that make a house a home. The hardwood floors have no rugs to clothe them, the living room only has a couch and TV with no stand beneath it and the walls are bare and without character. Maybe he could go furniture shopping this weekend? Invite you if you’re not too tired from working.

When he finally checks his phone, his heart thumps heavily in his chest when he sees the notification from you.

You: I’ve had such a shit day. My car wouldn’t fucking start and work has been so busy. I’m exhausted.

Relief floods him too quickly for him to swallow down and analyze later. There’s no stopping it now, and Toji finds himself sitting up on the couch, his nose almost touching the screen of his phone as he types his response. So many thoughts bubble within him at once. The urge to ask you what he can do, the urge to come over to your house so he can take care of you—so many urges that his late wife would effortlessly draw from him against his own volition overwhelm him.

Toji: How did you get to work

You: I took the bus.

He growls under his breath at your response, his mind flashing with every single danger possible at the thought of you traveling alone at night. Any sleazy man could watch the stop you get off, take note of the street, and come back later. Someone bigger than you, stronger than you. And even though you’re fierce and strong yourself, evil usually wins. The thought makes his blood boil. All you had to do was tell him about your car, and he would have picked you up immediately. But the words from you that shine from his phone are a blatant reminder of just how little you rely on others.

Toji: I’ll pick you up.

You: I get off at midnight. Toji it’s fine.

Toji: I don’t care. I’ll be in the parking lot when you come outside.

You don’t respond, leaving Toji to wonder whether you’re simply swamped with work again or pointedly ignoring him out of defiance. He’s showing up whether you like it or not. He tosses his phone toward the end of the couch and rolls onto his back, his gaze drifting up to the ceiling.

Popcorn ceilings. He despises them. It’s a trivial thing to fixate on, but the textured surface only amplifies the visibility of dirt and grime, reminding him of memories of the dilapidated greenhouse shed where he grew up; of dust and dingy yukatas and soiled food. Toji realizes that the stupid thought is so annoying because of how quickly it reminds him of his life. It’s a vicious cycle of how his mundane thoughts can instantly make him think of a painful memory.

Maybe that’s all his brain can do—think of the bad in his life. He’s not meant for happiness. Wonderful things like you are beyond his reach, and even his own son couldn’t be further detached from him. His thoughts are murky and desolate, so burdened with despair that he’s amazed his body still finds the will to wake up each morning. But he does, for some reason, he still does.

***

A few minutes past midnight when you slide into his car, Toji inhales the weary air you breathe out. Your bun is loose, curls frizzed along your hairline, your scrub top has baby spittle on it, and there are circles under your eyes. You’re absolutely exhausted, but Toji’s heart stutters when he glimpses the determination in your gaze—resolute and fierce even when dead on your feet.

And suddenly, he can’t help himself. He leans over and presses his lips to your cheek, siphoning the softness against the chapped edges of his lips to make the coldness in his chest warm over. You don’t smack him or tell him to behave or call him names for taking something without asking.

“Am I at least allowed to do that without you smacking me?” Toji asks you, a soft smirk on his face as he takes in your familiar glare. It almost washes away the blood and murder he had his hands in this morning.

You wave him away in mild annoyance, but Toji sees something on your face. With his years of perception, he notices the subtle tug of your cheek as it pulls inward for you to bite down on it, your lips fighting to contain the smile that threatens to bloom. One day, he will pull a smile from you freely. One day.

As he drives to your apartment, he unconsciously takes deep inhales to savor the delicate vanilla beneath the sharp tang of hand sanitizer and sterile hallways that radiate from your side of the car. He turns on the classic rock radio station that he played last time you were both in the car together, and you hum along again without thinking. Only this time, your hums are broken, and without strength, your head lolling against the window until you slowly fall asleep.

When he parks the car at your complex, he doesn’t wake you up immediately. In sleep, you can’t scowl at him, but even now, your demeanor remains guarded. Your shoulders are tense, hands clutching the strap of a well-worn leather bag, cheeks flushed with a fever you vehemently deny even though he can smell the common cold in the car.

Only two minutes have passed, yet his thoughts are consumed solely by you. Not about the people he’s killed. Not about the abuse he’s suffered. Not even the echoes of Naobito’s taunts that intrude when he least wants them to.

Just you.

He will earn all of you, just like you asked of him.

That rattling in his chest he felt the last time you were both together makes itself known again, pushing against his belief that his happiness will never be permanently his own. Maybe the sight of you rolling your eyes and offering him little pieces of affection with the smirk you try to hide is the very thing he needs to breathe a little easier.

He doesn’t know. He hasn’t quite figured it out.

So for now, he’ll grasp whatever morsel of solace he can, disregarding the ache in his chest that gets worse when he breathes in your air, knowing you remain unaware of such a significant aspect of his life.

He hopes this never catches up to him, and if it does, he hopes that you can forgive him. He hopes that he can forgive himself for taking from you when someone more deserving should occupy his place.

Until that reckoning arrives, he’ll indulge in his selfishness, because right now, it’s the only thing bringing him a semblance of joy.

Thanks for reading!

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fantasyandshit · 3 days

Text

You saved me

Type: one shot

Pairing: Sirius black x sister reader

⚠️ WARNING⚠️

This one shot is very graphic and includes themes such as- Rape, torture, sexual assault, abuse to the extreme, and more- this is a very very triggering and graphic one shot, reader discretion is advised

Minors do not interact!

(Some people may be disgusted by what I’ve put out, however this is a one shot I made to almost represent my feelings after childhood trauma and being a victim of rape and sa- this is a very sad fic but one I related to in the sense it represents feelings and emotions- I didn’t go through these events myself)

I want to make it clear- I am here for every single one of you- I always will be an open source- you can vent to me about anything and everything and I will always listen and support you guys. I love y’all so much and hope you all know you are important to this world and are very amazing people.

“I just- I can’t with her. She is such an ass kiss to our parents! They beat me and Reggie but she could quite literally murder someone and they wouldn’t care because she is there perfect little death eater girl!”

I stare from behind the corner of the courtyard where Sirius- my older brother, complains to his friends about me. Tears spring to my eyes but I don’t let them fall as I run back to the Slytherin common room. Sirius doesn’t know, he doesn’t understand what the parents do to me, what people do to me behind closed doors: and he never will. He can’t, I have to protect him from that and if it means he hates me then so be it.

The next morning I walk to the great hall with my bags packed for winter break- Regulus is staying with some friends of his and Sirius is staying with the Potters- he’s been living with them for the past six months now and seems happier than ever and I’m so glad. No matter how upset mum and dad were with the decision, I’m both terrified and glad the boys will both be gone; terrified because it means there’s so much touching and beating that will come but glad they won’t have any chance of catching anything.

———

(Same day, Sirius pov)

I can’t help but complain to the boys about my sister, she is my parents golden child, always has been and probably always will be. I wouldn’t be surprised if she had a dark mark under that stupid slytherin sleeve.

Suddenly, Regulus pops up behind me, “Sirius!”

“What?” He looks angry and that’s when I realize, “oh my godrick, tell me you aren’t trying to defend that brat!”

“You really are unbelievable brother, have you not noticed-“ a sigh as he looks down, “Sirius she’s dead, she’s not the sister she used to be, she has no life behind her eyes, no mischief that once was there- remember? Remember all the pranks you played? The spark in her eye? It’s gone, something is going on. Something she won’t let us know about.”

I take a moment and think…oh my godrick gryffindor, Reggie is right, something is going on. I look up to see the other nodding along as pieces click in our brains, “They don’t expect either of us at home, we could sneak in to figure out what’s going on?”

“That’s a good idea, I’ll be to the potters residents in two days time.” We make more plans and then split for now, waiting anxiously to carry out the plan.

———

Me, James, Remus, and Regulus hide behind a wall in the invisibility cloak and that’s when I see my sister walk into the living room, her head down and her hair pulled into a high pony, her skinny body-skinnier than I ever remember- covered in bruises and scars only in some flimsy, black lace lingerie. What.the.fuck. Is happening? Me and regulus meet each others gazes, both confused, heated with anger, and sadness.

My sister sits on the couch defeated and only seconds later I see five good friends of fathers- all in their late 40’s to 50’s walk into the room. All in simple boxers and or pants- none with shirts. That’s when I realize what’s going on, rage takes over my body and I almost jump out into the living room but am quickly grabbed by my brother.

He shakes his head no, he too looks absolutely enraged but we have to wait a little bit longer.

———

(Same time Yn’s pov)

The men walk into the room and I simply stare into the distance as they advance.

I’m slapped around a few times, they man handle me till I’m crying and bleeding, raping me more times then I care to count. Drool, tears,sweat, and blood dripping down my face by the time they are done, I’m completely numb. Mum and dad walk in the room asking the men how it was and completely ignoring me.

“Absolutely horrible, she was quiet as a mouse and had no fight in here, she laid there like nothing.”

“Oh really?” Mom’s gaze snaps to me, I can’t bring myself to lift my heavy head from where it lays but I know what’s coming.

Her wand flicks and I’m strung up by my arms, I’m whipped 55 times till I’m shaking with cuts digging deep in my flesh. Finally, the part I’ve been dreading the most- my mom’s wand raises above her head, “Crucio!” Pain overwhelms me and I thrash in my restraints, piss joining the bodily fluids already leaking from my body.

After I can’t tell how long I’m near passing out and I hear crashes and bangs, distant voices and foot steps, I hear curses thrown and defenses drawn. My eyes are nearly closed but I hear someone skid over to me, cutting me from my restraints and carefully lowering me into their lap.

I look up from where my head lays on the persons legs as they brush hair out of my face, swiping away tears and blood, drool and who else knows what with their sleeve. As they stroke my sticky cheek I see who it is…

“Sirius?” My voice cracks, horse and weak.

“I’ve got you sis, just shh, and stay awake okay? I’ve got you now, we’re gonna save you.” My big brother carefully picks me up, carrying me from the mansion as people follow after, the potters waiting out in the front frantically.

“Boys, what’s happened? What-oh dear Godrick. Hurry, we’ll get her to Saint Mungoes. (I think that’s the name?)” Mrs Potter moves forward quickly at the sight of my broken body.

“Boys.” Mr potters voice is stern as he addresses the teenage boys in question, “tell me exactly what’s happened.”

———

I wake up on a couch, a thin blanket covering my shivering body. I panic for a moment, just before Mrs.Potter rounds a corner with a bowl of water and a rag. “Oh Yn! You’re finally awake dear!”

“I’m-I’m sorry- what’s going on?”

A look of grief and sadness washed over her as she replies, “oh love- you were injured- bad, luckily the boys found you and saved you, we brought you to St.Mungos but after a week they said to bring you back home and let you keep healing. You’ve been out a totally of 10 days love.”

“Oh- oh yeah. Ok. Wait you said the boys saved me?”

“Well yes, Your brothers, James, and Remus.” She dabs water on some healing cuts.

“Oh- where- where are they?”

“Hm, good question, one moment.” She turns to the stairs, “BOYS!”

After a few moments I hear four sets of foot steps stomping down the stairs, trampling over each other- “Yn!” Regulus flings into my arms, I wince but ignore my soreness.

“Hey little bro.” I smile and ruffle his hair as he moves.

“It’s good to see you awake Yn.”

“Thank you Remus- thanks to all of you.”

“Of course!” I look to James and give a small, grateful smile.

“Uh- y-Yn?”

“Hey big bro. Thank you. So much.”

Tears well in Sirius’ eyes? I’d never seen it before, “I’m so sorry.” He crumbles into my open arms as he sobs. I know why he’s apologizing and it’s not his fault. Tears of my own collect in my eyes as I hold him, patting his hair softly.

“It’s ok. It’s ok. I forgive you.”

“I’m so sorry- I didn’t- I didn’t know and I- oh I’ve been terrible.”

“Sirius, Sirius look at me.” I pull his head up, smoothing his hair and rubbing his cheeks, “it’s ok. I promise it’s all ok. I don’t blame you, I never have and I never will ok. You saved me- you saved me Sirius- thank you.”

He nods weakly as we hug again before he stands up, clearing his throat.

———

So this one’s been in my drafts for abouttttt three weeks now. I’ve been scared to release it ngl.

#marauders #marauders x reader #harry potter #harry potter x reader #Sirius black #Sirius black x reader #James potter #james potter x reader #remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #regulus black #regulus black x reader #black reader #whump

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ye4gerism · 2 days

Text

𝑨𝑳𝑳 𝑰𝑺 𝑭𝑨𝑰𝑹 𝑰𝑵 𝑳𝑶𝑽𝑬 𝑨𝑵𝑫 𝑾𝑨𝑹 - 𝐉𝐄𝐀𝐍 𝐊𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐈𝐍 𝐗 𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑

word count 1.8k

content warning light smut - in fact it’s not even that descriptive🧍🏾‍♀️

author’s note finally back after so long - i HAVE been writing though and have a story in my back pocket that im excited to drop! :3 this is the story i was looking for beta readers for - i didn’t get any 🧍🏾‍♀️ so i’m just dropping this first chapter to get interest. if not, i’ll just release a chapter at least weekly! this is also my attempt at mature content, so bear with me as we test this out. my requests are open - so feel free to read my guidelines on my pinned and hit my inbox 😝

synopsis after the rumbling, you found yourself on your feet in your home town. you have a completely new life - you’re watching your country be built again and now you have a fiancé! what happens when a man from your past reaches out to you via letter?

853

His air fills your nose as you press against him. Your breaths are labored from placing your lips where you can, hands frantic.

The adrenaline lowers and you're both back to your senses. Your clothes are scattered everywhere on your bedroom floor. He lowers you onto the bed, his heavy hands resting on your lower back as you arch into the sheets. His lips love on your collarbones and find their way to your belly button. You shudder as he moves lower and lower until that wave of unfamiliar excitement washes over you.

You're breathing heavily as he places kisses all over your face and body. He takes care of you at the end; he makes sure you're clean, warm, and comfortable. You enjoyed your night; never had you thought you'd fall head over heels for a man you met just a few days ago but here you are.

You watched as he went between putting on his clothes and looking for items he was missing. Once he was fully clothed, it finally hit you that he didn't have plans to stay the night. Your body shot up from the bed. "Jean..." Your voice trails off, pleading.

He looks over his shoulder. He finishes his look by putting his fedora on. "You know I'd love to stay...but I have somewhere to be." Regret travels through Jean's voice. He turns away from you, pretending to fix his tie.

His shoulders are tense. He takes a few deep breaths before looking at you once more. "Tonight will be my last night seeing you." The satisfaction from the night immediately vanished. Your confusion is loud. Jean sighs as he continues to straighten himself out. "I can't explain it to you now but within the next few days...months, it'll all make sense..." In the soft candlelight in your bedroom, you can see the sadness in his eyes. You wanted to question him but considering the look on his face, you decide that it's probably best for you not to know.

You can't watch him. Jean opens the front door; under the door frame, he looks at your back. He opens his mouth but closes it instead. There was no point. He'd never see you again.

After his exit, you contemplated the possible explanation for his exit. It all didn't come together until weeks after the new year of 854 when Paradis launched its attack on Marley.

Spring 857

To whom it may concern,

I didn't think it'd be appropriate to address this letter with 'Dear Ms. L/N' considering our history and the events after but I still felt the need to reach out to you.

It's been four years now? Or at least approaching four years, considering our meeting was in the summer.

I owe you an explanation. I am a Subject of Ymir from Paradis Island. At the period that we met, I was on a trip with other Subjects; it was our first time off of the island. We were there, curious about our enemies and how our military forces should move forward. I met you and you know the rest of that story. Other than my constant visits with you, I and a few others sat through countless meetings hearing about how we Subjects couldn't be "cured" or "forgiven" of our crimes.

Meeting you wasn't on my agenda. No one knew about you. During that time. I felt like the world felt like it was crashing down on me and then came you, my short-lived saving grace.

Because of my actions during the Rumbling, my home, Paradis, has outcasted me and considered me a traitor for being one of the pieces that stopped it. I live life as a Peace Ambassador now. I've been all over the place - helping rebuild cities and building connections with refugees who are still working on getting their lives back. I do live in Paradis from time to time. My mother still lives there.

I learned about you from asking around. I'm so grateful that you evaded the Rumbling. I don't know how I would feel if you passed.

Longing to see you,

Jean Kirstein, Alliance Peace Ambassador

Mister Ambassador,

Hi. Thank you for reaching out to me. It's been a very long time and I've struggled. Went from being a woman who traveled regularly to being trapped because of the bombs and titans that were dropped everywhere. I am lucky that I have made it out with my life.

Now that I have a proper explanation, I don't feel as upset as I did seeing your letter in my mailbox. I am glad you are safe for the most part.

I am with someone. Set to be married within the next few months if life in Anahg, or the Southern Nations as the world calls it now, improves slightly more. My fiancé's name is Sebas Abe. Considering that you're from Paradis, I don't know how much you know, but he was an important political figure and diplomat for Hizuru. He was just at the wrong place at the wrong time during, what you call, the Rumbling. He's a part of the rebuilding process here in Anahg but he misses his diplomat job dearly. He loved traveling the world, so he told me.

I'm curious, how is life in Paradis? Considering you're a traitor?

Y/N L/N

Miss L/N,

Beautiful last name. I didn't mean to come on so hard in my first letter. Congratulations on your engagement, you deserve it. I am also sorry about everything you've been through. If you don't mind me asking, what happened on your end? If it's too invasive of a question, I certainly understand. It's just something that peaks my interest considering what I do for work.

Anahg and the rest of the Southern Regions have yet to be touched by our growing alliance. I guess the focus is to rebuild the relationship between Marley and Paradis and gain the trust of other countries that weren't destroyed by the Rumbling.

If your fiancé is still interested in ambassador work, I don't mind putting in the good word for him. I have close connections to those in Hizuru, one of Paradis's allies.

Life on the island is hard. I don't get hassled a lot in my hometown; my mother was an important part of some of our neighbors' lives. I guess they feel wrong treating me differently. But I will say that I feel lonelier. I will never share a barrack, train, or be a part of a military branch again. I'm the age where I'm supposed to be at least courting someone or going out with a small group of friends but with, one, members of the Alliance being so busy and, two, my status as a traitor makes it hard to come across people my age.

I don't leave Trost, my home, to visit other parts of the island unless I really need to. Getting on transportation for work is quicker when no one is interested in speaking to you.

Jean Kirstein, Alliance Peace Ambassador

Mister Ambassador,

Well, if you're so curious, Mr. Ambassador, it's something I'd rather not relive - That's how my experience went. Eren Yeager ruined my life. I don't blame him for being angry; if the whole world was laughing at my existence, I'd bring Hell onto Earth too. But that doesn't take away that my life was taken away. Since then, I'm fortunate enough that I was able to come back home to Anagh, that it's growing once again, and that I have someone by my side. My life isn't the best but it's better than it was days before the Rumbling.

I'm sorry that your community has turned on you that way. Loneliness is one hell of a disease. I'd rather be berated than silently deal with my own sadness. I hope that doesn't sound offensive.

Y/N L/N

Miss L/N,

No, that isn't offensive. I sometimes wish my life was as vocal as my other friends but at the same time, I'm grateful for the dirty looks. I just wish I wasn't so in my head sometimes.

What do you mean your life now is better than the one before the Rumbling? Are you insinuating something in your previous letter? The way I remember it, I sure damn well made those last few days memorable and exciting. Your body told me so itself.

I understand I left suddenly and inappropriately but that doesn't mean you get to dismiss and deny what we had.

I thought about you too many times as I traveled. When I was alone, I thought of you and your silky skin and your pretty lips. Your body against mine.

You could be ignoring my correspondence, for the sake of your dear Sebas, but we both know why you continue to write back.

Jean Kirstein

Fall 857

Mister Ambassador,

I am married now - since the summer.

Leave it in the past, Mr. Ambassador.

Hopefully, you can continue to write me as a friend and not as a lover.

Thank you,

Mrs. Y/N Abe

Dear Mrs. Abe,

Oh, forgive me for defending my honor. I can't have you on the other side of the world trashing my character. I was hurt by my initial assumption - that you haven't confirmed.

Congratulations.

Does your husband still want to work with the Alliance? How is Anahg - from the view of someone living there? There is an opening if your husband is still interested. Negotiations with Marley are taking somewhat of a positive turn. I don't think they're completely on our side but with the help of Hizuru, we'll reach common ground.

I've been courting here and there but nothing's stuck.

I don't mind being your friend, but that also may mean that I'll stop my correspondence.

Jean Kirstein, Alliance Peace Ambassador

Mister Ambassador,

What assumption do I have to confirm? Do you want me to be direct?

Thinking of you reminds me of what followed. The confusion and loss I felt. And the loneliness.

But, Mr. Ambassador Kirstein, ever since you've written me, when my husband is out doing his work and I'm alone, I find myself, regretfully, thinking about you and those nights before you left. And I hate it...and enjoy it. I hate it so much.

I am supposed to be loyal to my husband and yet here you are. What are the odds that you'd reenter my life? And you're not even physically by my side. I crave you. I'd do anything to have you in my proximity one more.

But for the sake of my image and my marriage, leave it in the past.

Mrs. Y/N Abe

Mrs. Abe,

Thank you for your honesty. It truly is a shame that your husband and my work are limitations. If things were in my control, I'd stop writing this letter and would be on my way to Anahg to satisfy you once more. I owe you a proper apology after my absence all these years.

I want to honor you and forget everything happened but it seems impossible now. Can you really go back to your normal life, being Mr. Sebas Abe's wife, after what you've just confessed to me?

Please, call me Jean.

Jean Kirstein, Peace Ambassador

#black reader #black yn #aot x black reader #aot x reader #jean kirstein x reader #jean x black!reader #jean x reader #jean kirschstein x black reader #jean kirstein x black reader #jean kirschtein x reader #jean kirschtien #jean kirstein #x black reader

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c-nstantine · 20 hours

Note

I honestly feel like some people forget Jason Todd is a straight hood nigga like HE MET BRUCE FROM STEALING HIS TIRES OFF THE BATMOBILE and he’s from the hood part of Gotham this MAN IS SEASONED AND HE KNOWS SHIT you can’t tell me this man didn’t have black friends, his first crush wasn’t black or Latina and his favorite food isn’t soul food from his friends mommas…and don’t get me started on that slang he prolly has like when he see you “what’s good mama” or “how my princess feeling give daddy a kiss fa me” and how he has “black” mannerisms Jason is the white boy who should’ve been black in the friend group……all I’m saying is Jason Todd is a seasoned white man not Jack Harlow white but eminem type white or something…case closed

btw I LOVE YOUR WORK sending you all my love 🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🩷🫰🏾🫰🏾🫰🏾🫰🏾🫰🏾🫰🏾

THANK YOU MWAH

Jason can also code switch like a motherfucker too. When he first got adopted by Bruce, he had to learn how to get along with all of those rich kids. Now, he's more chill and relaxed that he only slips up in private moments where he's either angry, excited or upset.... or during sex.

I can imagine him like absolutely dogging you out and just groaning in your ear "You like that mama," or " Is my princess gonna give me another one". He likes to pretend that it never happened.

#x black!reader #black!reader #x black reader #black reader #jason todd x black!reader #jason todd x reader #jason tood smut #jason x black!reader #jason x black reader

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nina-renmen · 2 days

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You’re Mine Pt.4

I’m in my era where I can produce 2-3 fics a day but I lose motivation within a week 😭 anyway, sorry for the long wait! As you all know there are Yandere themes such as mentions of drugging, murder, drinking and other themes that are not suited for minors or people that can’t handle this. You have been warned! (This fix is not prof read)

part 1 part 2 part 3

The worst thing about this job was the aftermath of missions. The one thing y/n didn’t like was having to stay in one place after getting shot. The darker toned woman sat down, her leg throbbing. She was just thankful that it stopped bleeding. Unbeknownst to her, y/n’s captain stood around the corner. Y/n had gone on a solo mission, it was completed with no casualties but she did pay the price by getting shot. Although the bullet went straight through, price knew she wouldn’t be on her feet for a few days, maybe even weeks.

Outside he stood holding a sugary treat. Something y/n had told him she liked on their ‘date’. He fiddled with the packaged candy in his hands. Contemplating on going inside of her room, but just as he decided to do so, he heard y/n’s phone ring.

Looking down at her phone y/n saw her father’s contact name. Without waisting any time she answered it, putting it on speaker so she could changer her bandages. “Hey dad.” Y/n spoke first as she grabbed the roll of bandages and disinfected. “Y/n, sweetie….are you okay?” He asked. His voice sounding worried. Y/n only brushed it off as him being worried because of her wound. Word travels fast within the military.

“Yes dad….the bullet went through my leg. I should be back on my feet in two weeks or so.” The sound of bandages opening filled the silence as her father didn’t say anything in return. After a few moments he finally spoke up.

“No….thats too long. I’ll have one of my men come get you.” He said in almost a rushed tone.

“My wound isn’t that bad. I’m taking care of it and-“

“Not the wound y/n. I want you to stay away from Price.” General l/n spoke over y/n. Like a commander, barking orders at his subordinates. “Dad…Price isn’t that bad. He’s can be a little rough around the edges but he’s not bad.” Y/n said as she finished pouring the disinfectant alcohol over the wound.

“Y/n….Price has been looking into you. He’s stalking you. I want you out of that squad immediately.” Y/n furrowed her eyebrows as she hauled her movements. Sure…it was normal to look into someone. Y/n had looked into Price to see what he’d accomplished to get in the role of a captain but that was it. “Dad….thats normal. Maybe I’ve been late to a meeting or-“

“Stop making excuses for that man….ill tell you what. If I get you stone hard proof, you leave that squad with now argument. Okay?”

Y/n sighed as she wrapped her leg. Making sure not to put it on too tight. “Dad, I can’t do that.”

“Why not?”

Y/n paused. She wasn’t sure how he’d react to this. “He’s my soulmate. I found out a while ago and-“

“You don’t think to tell me?” General l/n’s voice was softer this time. He seemed more understanding of the situation. “If I had known I wouldn’t have had made a big fuss.”

“It’s alright. I know you’re only looking out for me.” Y/n replied. As she finished tiring off the bandages.

“I still don’t trust him. My parents were soulmates and my father killed my mother, but you know that already. Don’t drop your guard just because he’s your soulmate.” Y/n’s father started. “Just because he loves you, doesn’t mean he won’t hurt you. Treat him just like any other man you’d come across.”

He was right. Loving someone dosn’t always mean you’re compatible or vise versa. “Okay..”

“Promise me.” General l/n’s voice grew stern.

“I promise.”

“And make sure you carry a gun on your dates.” Y/n’s father advised.

“I already do. No need to remind me.” Y/n said as she rolled her eyes.

“I’m just making sure you’re safe. You’re my only daughter.”

Y/n smiled at that. “I’ll be safe…..” There was a small silence between the two of them until he spoke up. “Alright then. Well I have to get back to work. Don’t cause too much trouble, I love you.”

Y/n laughed as she told him she loved him before he hung up. Sitting in silence, y/n thought about what he said. Even though she brushed it off she couldn’t help but be a bit wary of John.

A knock on her door startled her from her thoughts. Pushing those bad feeling away she called out. “Come in.”

The door opened, revealing John. He was in nothing but a blue shirt and khaki pants. His hand holding up y/n’s favorite sweet treat.

“I…heard you got injured. So I got you this.” He said, holding it up. Y/n’s eyes trailed over to the sweet treat. A grin carved on her face, giving price the green light to step into the room. He closed the door behind him before handing Y/n the sweet treat. Y/n’s fingers wrapped around the packaging. She thanked him with a smile as she tore open the wrapping paper like a child that had just been gifted candy.

“Is the medication working?” Price asked, trying to make small talk as he sat in the chair that was beside Y/n’s bed. He got comfortable in the chair. It was obvious he planned on staying a while.

“Not really.” Y/n said truthfully. “The medicine here dosn’t really work on me.”

John looked at y/n curiously. “Why is that?”

Y/n let out a nervous chuckle, as she leaned back into her pile of pillows that propped her up. “I didn’t grow up in a stable nehiborhood. My parents worked so much that I was sent to live with family members that weren’t so great. I picked up some bad habits if you know what I mean.” Y/n stated. “I’m clean now, but I still have a high tolerance for it.”

John nodded. He didn’t seem disgusted or disappointed. He seemed grateful that y/n told him. “I appreciate you telling me.” He said honestly. Unfortunately for y/n he only appreciated that y/n told him about it so he can up her dosage. If she hadn’t told him then he would have been confused as to why she hadn’t passed out after eating the snack he spiked.

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dreadheadmuncher · 13 hours

Text

“👹LECLER!”

A/n : Keep in mind this just an imagine and a small post I decided to come up with.

Tag🔞: fluff, oral sex, head top, vanilla sex, edging.

Summary: Mel goes on a vacation trip with a close friend to Monaco and while the two attends the F1 racing event, she had a bit too much fun that same night.

Vroom…

Just a bunch of small weird looking cars zooming down the track with watchers getting hyped up, this screams out rich and expensive but who am I judge when this didn’t came out of my pocket. Harry managed to get us vip tickets that included sitting the lounge with champagnes and meals being served to us which was my favorite part but most of was for him to meet the drivers after the race but mainly because he has a friend that happens to be one of the drivers so he came out to support like the good pal he is plus who who I am to pass up a free way to ticket to Monaco, not this bitch.

I palmed my chest when the lounge area ran wild from all majority of Harry leaping out of his chair in pure joy as he applauses and hollered, dabbing the other that were also in the lounge area, from this I assume someone won from how lively the crowd gotten. I remained muted and applauded quietly with a small smile, I finish chug my champagne down and soon each driver who finishes the race all stood on the podium. Hmm, all of them was cute. One in a fully red suit with a Ferrari logo who I guessed came in first coming in second was a caramel skinned man with locs and a nose piercing- damn he fine. I didn’t care about the dude in the orange suit one but those two gentlemen’s caught my eyes.

“That’s Lewis, the friend who I came to support” Harry introduces pointing at the caramel skinned man, sounded so proud of his friend victory. I smiled and chugged the remaining last of champagne down my throat as I focused on the two good looking men, Harry lead us downstairs to the driver’s paddock where all of the man would be located after the race. A few was being questioned and so and so. Harry would stopped by every driver he sees congratulating them on their race then follow up on a 20 minute chit-chat talking about sports blah blah blah and there’s me who hardly knows anything about the race but a girl who’s being a good supportive friend of riding along since I was promised parties and yachts.

“Harry, sorry to bug you but when we-”

I was cut short when a male voice with an English accent calls out Harry name almost mentioning Harry happens to English himself. Fuck me. I sighed annoyingly but straighten my composure when his fine ass friend- Lewis! Yeah, that’s his name I think approached out his way with a wide smile.

“Ah mate, what a heck of race out there” Harry dabs him up doing some type of strange handshake- you know what, I’ll just mind my business. Not with this handsome brother being in my presence.

Lewis, I’ve heard that name somewhere back home but just couldn’t put my finger down it, I know someone back home who’s obsessed with this whole racing stuff and she was explaining to me about this whole thing but I just couldn’t bare another minute of her rambling her mouth however she didn’t lie when she said most of these drivers- especially that one are attractive. It was then when I realized I was gawking a bit too much when he darted his glare over at me with a side grin.

“Sorry hun, not doing autographs at the moment” Lewis says and I slightly gape my mouth open, I grimaced my face at the thought of me being desperate for a simple autograph from a man I hardly know.

“Excuse me?” I asked feeling a bit offended, I shot Harry a hard glare gesturing for him to get his boy before my mouth makes a scene and I’m pretty sure Harry seen that side of me before.

“U-Uhm Lewis, this was the friend I was telling you about who I brought along” Harry mentions, Lewis eyed me up and down with speck of attitude on his face as a light chuckle escapes from his mouth. I flicked my brows up with my arms crossed not believing what I seeing.

“So what, you too good to have manners now” I remarked with a scoff, Lewis furrows his brows at my statement as he steps closer attempting to look intimidating. He don’t know where I’m from for him to be pulling that kind of stunt, he’d get shot up real quick.

“Says the little lady that came down with a bitchy ass attitude… Harry, you should know better to bring someone-”

“Listen here you big melon forehead, I hardly know you unless you God himself or my momma to be saying shit about me so I suggest you tone that shit down or-” I spat

“My Goodness, what’s all of the ruckus about” A deep voice spoke interrupting my speech, all of the anger that was building in my muscles had suddenly disappeared when a man a lot taller than Harry and Mr Melon here approached us with a lingering smirk on his face. He wore a white button shirt with the Mercedes logo on it, his sleeve are rolled up allowing me to get a glimpse of his arm and I can’t forget how perfect that top hugs his muscles.

“Lewis, what are you still standing here for… you acting like you don’t have a press conference to go to”

Lewis grunts storming off while penetrating a deep glare at me as he walks off fully, a moment of pause before we all bursted out a tear laughter at just happened. He looks like a toddler that just threw tantrum from someone telling him no. Harry does his bickering before he politely introduced me to the man- hmm, let alone I’d let this man devour me on top of his desk.

“Hi, I’m Mel” I extended my hand with a smile, He takes my hand and slowly turns it around to lay a peck as he sets a concentrate glare at me.

“I’m Toto Wolff but you can just call me Toto, doll”

I lightly blushed at the nickname he already given me, he winks and smiles so widely causing a second heartbeat down there but how can I stay focus when he’s looking at me with hooded eyes, he may be pushing 50 or so but what they say- age ain’t none but a number.

“I hope to see you two at the party tonight” He says, taking his leave. I furrowed my brows and glared at Harry with confusion laced all over my expression. This trick didn’t mentioned anything about no damn party til now, that was the whole point as to why I even agreed to come here.

“Mel, I’ll be looking forward to seeing you” He smirks, walking backwards as his eyes locked in with mines feeling heat coursing through my body. He winks then proceeds to make his exit leaving the two of us alone, I sense the skeptical stare shooting my way from Harry. I shrugged my shoulders and mouthed ‘what’ as we both proceeds our exit out the premises with Harry giving me a lecture about interrupting him and flirting with the man telling me he was married as if I was the one who started it first.

•

Fast forward to later when I was in my hotel room preparing for the party, Harry booked a luxurious hotel room for the two of us which included a wide balcony view of the beach side with a nice jacuzzi - man if only I had someone here… wink wink. I couldn’t ask for better than the room service treating you like an absolute queen. I glared at myself at the mirror and the way how much this dress was hugging every crack and bone on my body showing my figure.

“Mel are you- holy smokes” Harry nearly choked on his words as he walked in, he took a moment to gaze on the dress I was wearing.

“Is this too much?” I asked, fiddling with my hands awaiting for his response. Harry approaches me with his eyes set on my dress but from the way he was muted, he was telling me otherwise “I knew it, I should change-”

“Mel, I’d have you out those clothes in hot seconds with the way you look right now, you gonna be pulling heads from left to right” He compliments, now he was starting stare a bit too much and he seem to notice that as well “Let’s go, the chauffeur here”

A chauffeur?! …. count me the fuck in. We both made our way out the elevator and a group of men who were passing couldn’t help but to turn their necks at us. Harry pulled me closer to his side with his hands stuck around my waist, ain’t never seen this side of him. A women dressed in all black from head to toe address us for Mr Wolf and immediately we got settled in, just a few couple of minutes, we had arrived already at the scene and the line was incredibly long.

“There’s no way I’m waiting in that long ass line” I grunted, he gestures me to wait and I watch him approach the bouncer as he said a few words to him then boom we was already in. I heard a couple of complaints but shit- as long we got a head start. The music was so amazingly loud, I could’ve feel it vibrating in my chest and you can hardly pass through from how crowded it was everywhere, it wasn’t until I released a heavy scoff followed by a eye roll when melon head came to dab up Harry. His whole expression died down as soon as he darts his eyes to me, seizing me up and down with a look of disgrace.

“I see you brought little miss fiesty” He remarks.

“Harry, control your little pest of yours” I spat, growing agitated at the sight of him and the longer he stays in my presence the more I just want to rip those damn locs out from his scalp. Harry noticed my expression and pulls me aside turning our back towards him, the melon head assured to Harry he was going to be located if he ever wants to find him.

“I’m really sorry about him, do you maybe want a drink?”

“You know what, go enjoy yourself with your friends, I’ll be okay” I said to him, my eyes never leaving the mysterious man who had a smirk on his face. At first Harry was uncertain whether or not it was a good idea to leave me by myself but I assure to him that things will be fine as long. He pecks my forehead and I watch him flew upstairs to his friend as a wide smile appeared on his face when melon head hands him a big bottle.

“My, you have such beauty on you” I winced, I followed the direction of the voice and just when my luck came when it appears to be that same man from the podium earlier and good lord he’s even breathtaking up close.

“Why did your boyfriend leave a gorgeous women like you all alone, He should know men tend to be a thirst for pretty women like you” I couldn’t help but notice how strangely attractive his accent sounded. I must admit, here in Monaco has incredibly good looking people here.

“Boyfriend… I don’t have a boyfriend but I appreciate the compliment” I chuckled with a smile suddenly feeling hot from the intense eye contact he has on me. He returns the smiles exposing a dimple

“So am I lucky enough to buy the beautiful women a drink? ” He playfully asks, smiling softly exposing his dimples. A fine looking man offering to buy me a drink- how can I let that opportunity slip out my hand. He whistles for the bartender attention then turns back around, I was quickly adjusting myself by pulling the hem of my of dress not realizing he had already fixed his gaze on me as he lingered them more on my dress.

“Do you have a name apart from being called beautiful?” He questions, grabbing the two drinks and handing it to me. The minute he stands next to me, I didn’t fail to notice how tall he was making our height difference prominent as he gaze down at me.

“Mel, what about you, handsome?” I asked softly, taking a sip of my drink.

“I go by the name of Charles… since I got the beautiful lady a drink and her name, would she at least come dance with me?” He asked, I averted my head towards the dance floor where everyone was throwing a type move with the music playing- the dj might be onto something with this playlist. I chugged my drink down in immediately and Charles quirked his brows up slightly taken back from the sight of this, I set the now empty cup down and tugged his hand as I led us both out to the center of the floor. His hands snatched my waist already flushing our bodies together which I wrapped my arms around his neck.

Big Poppa by The Notorious B.I.G starts playing.

A rage of adrenaline sparked in my bones the minute I heard that intro. I felt a slight push as he grips on my waist and instantly I start grinding my hips on him, his hands moves down to cup a handful of my ass and I almost let myself go from releasing a moan from how good it felt he was caressing it. I spun around and now my ass was directly on his crotch, with all of the alcohol coursing in my system, I let him dominate my body all night and here I am worrying if he knew how to dance or not but it seem to me he got a lil bit of spice in him from the way he was moving his hips into mines almost forgetting I can feel his boy getting a little too excited down here, in one swift motion, I was facing him and ooh- those eyes made me melt even more. He seem to love my rubbing on my ass from how much time his hands stood there.

His hands travels up feeling up every corner of my body not knowing he was starting a fire in me, his hands gently laced around my neck and slowly he leans in to crash his lips on mines tasting the sweet but bitter alcohol, I parted my lips inviting his tongue in as he starts to dominate the kiss with our heads moving in different directions. He don’t know it yet but he just started the engine in my aching core making me want him more. I come to my senses that we’re making out in a middle of a dance floor and I was aching him bad as my stomach was flipping like crazy.

“I think this will be better at my place” I draw little circles on his firm chest, he licks his swollen lips and agrees immediately with a side grin. I pulled his arm as we both tried to squeeze ourselves through the crowd, I had to make one final stop before I end up leaving this place this man.

“H-Harry!” I manage to call out and surprisingly Harry heard my voice as he ran over to my side despite Charles flushing his body against me which I wasn’t complaining. Harry eyes widened as he notice Charles hands placements, Harry glared at him suspiciously but it died down when he sees how comfortable and fine I am.

“Lecler, what a nice surprise” the two dabs each other but I was gaining worryingly not at Harry being drunk but for Charles who I think might make a fool out of himself around Charles. How many drinks did he had? My eyes glowered around the area but paused for a while when it landed on melon head who already was looking my way with a menacing glare obviously drunk too won’t a bottle of jack Daniel in his hand.

“Careful Leclerc, that one might bite” He makes a slick comment, sipping out of his bottle.

“You sound pathetic as hell, next” I shot back with an eye roll. He chuckles amusingly with a smirk on his face.

“I sound pathetic… that dress looks more pathetic maybe because it’s on you” He his voice spiked with frustration, might’ve hit a nerve in that spot, it was kinda funny if you really look at it that way.

“So does that big melon head of yours” I deadpanned and the fire explodes as he abruptly stood up tossing the bottle somewhere with a deep frown on his face and here I am being bold and big when I nearly forgot how tall he was but I take that back as soon as Charles stepped in between moving me behind him, his hand never leaving my waist and I swear I can feel my panties dampening from how hot that looks.

“I wouldn’t do that if I was you, mate” Charles warned in this deep voice I never knew sounded even more attractive.

“Lewis… hey pal let’s air this outside but not in here” Harry pulls his arm back, Lewis brows deepened as he forms a fist nearly piping a vein. I can radiate a very serious rage coming out of him from that hard glare he was shooting my way as Charles made sure he wouldn’t dare pull a stunt.

“Tell your girl to not tempt me because I tend to get reckless with my mouth, let this be the final warning and next time shit won’t sweet” He tone was light than before, I felt a small breeze brush on me when he stormed off and I sensed incredible rush of anger coming from him.

“I apologize for-”

“No worries, I’m quite used to his aggressiveness anyways” Charles brushed it off releasing a breathless laugh with Harry. Harry averts his gaze to me as his face was rubbing pink obviously from all the drinking he’s been doing, he was checking to see if I was alright like the overprotective brother he always acted.

“Don’t think just because you’re a driver doesn’t mean you get to harm her, I’m armed…” He harshly warned with his words being slurred, he can barely even obtain his balance. I do hope Lewis keeps on a watch for this man but he’s such a jerk and so uptight I can’t even say not word to this man without him mean mugging.

“Harry, you’re harassing the man already. I’ll be fine, just please ease up on the drinking and be careful” I begged, removing the bottle out of his hand but thankfully his other friend came to his side reassuring he’ll keep on a good eye on him. I graciously thanked him with a wide smile and rushed out the club with Charles trailing behind closely.

Once the room card inserted, the small pad flashes green allowing the door to flung open with him trailing behind me but he just couldn’t wait any waste any further to crash his soft lips onto mines. My legs levitated from the ground and immediately wrapped around him as I have no clue where he was taking us but I felt a soft cushion against my back leaving him on top. Our kiss deepened passionately with the intrusion of our tongues and boy do I feel my panties dampening everytime, when he moves to another spot, it sent electric shocks all over my body wanting him more.

He cups my right breast as starts sensually sucking and biting on certain parts my neck all with my eyes shuts feeling every satisfaction aching in my bone. I grew anticipated when he suddenly stopped but then i realized he was leaning over me when I opened my eyes to meet his bright blue doe eyes- he looks like a adorable kid excited to play in the field, his hair was fluffier from the tugging I’ve been doing, his face flushing pink which I want to reach over and squeeze his cheeks and his lips that were now swollen and red.

“You are absolutely gorgeous” He whispers as he pulls on my strap to remove the straps of my dress as the cold breeze brushes against my nipple. He darts his eyes down at my exposed breast, I pushed him aside as I stood on my feet and removed the remaining of the fabric off my body letting it pool around my feet. At the sight of my naked body in front of him, I sashay my hips towards him and threw my leg over sitting on top of him.

“Putain de merde”

“You can do whatever you want with me tonight, I’m all yours” I whispered while leaving wet kisses all over his ear as my hands began to travel- now hold the fuck up, I just realized this man still got clothes on him.

“Baby, why is your clothes still on” I abruptly got up with my arms folded over my exposed chest, he stammers and looks down to realize the same thing. He eagerly removed every layer off his body except his boxers where a visible tent was notice, his face flushed red embarrassed that he was rock solid hard as he quickly covered it. He is so adorable. A light grin creeps up my face, the little jumper sprung out of his briefs, it was a pretty pink color with precum decorating the jumper not mention he was large. My mouth was itching swallow him.

“It hurts… real bad” He whimpers, a jumpstart to quake the ground down there. My hands can hardly wrap around his jumper which requires the use of two hands. His eyes were shut closed which means he have blue balls… poor baby. I started showering it with kisses all while stroking slowly and now his face expression became my favorite part, playing with his jumper and watching as he gets excited really quirked my heart fast. I decided to stop playing tricks with him and took him whole in my head as I bopped my head continuously twirling my tongue in the process. His moans were music to my ears that I hit replay all day, it’s so soft yet sweet which urged me to touch on myself as I fasten up the pace.

“M-Mel… Putain d'enfer” He chokes out, his lips parted open as his head leaned all the way back as he sings in my ears with his alluring moans and just as I expect he exploded in my mouth. Now that it bothers me but it was so warm against my tongue, I pulled away and looked up at him with his mess all over my mouth as his juice dripped down on my tits.

Despite looking like a total mess, he wraps his hand around my neck and pulls me into a kiss as he leads me onto his lap where I felt his tip tempting my core, his hands wanders its way in between my thigh and I melted the moment his cold fingers starts caressing my clit which I urged to grind my hips let alone a moan that escaped from my mouth as he paced faster. Before I could even run away from, he switch position leaving me underneath as he continued flickering my sensitive part. I was moaning like a mess careless who could’ve hear me at this rate, he pinned my arms above my head rather harsh and flushes his body against just so I hardly move.

I moaned incredibly loud when he pushed a finger inside of me, my body swiftly moves as he motioned back and forth leaving the sweet sensation all over my body.

“Look at me, mon amour”

Good lord his sexy accent makes it bittersweet. I knew it was bad idea to look into his alluring eyes, I gasped and scrunching my face when he pulled a two piece combo of one finger rubbing on my clit and one fucking me sensually. Damn, I want him so bad- oh! He found the spot, he noticed my expression and played in it for a while as a smirk creeped up on his face. He pulls out and sucked the soul out cleaning the juice off finger in every corner.

“Vous avez un goût délicieux” He says as he leaned down inserting his tongue into my mouth- damn I taste good! He pulls away trailing kisses down until he gets in between my thighs, he traces wet kisses along my ankle and I could’ve felt his warm breath fanning against my opening that was itching to be raw fucked. I arched my back when I felt his wet tongue on my folks, I looked down and his eyes was already gawking me like an eagle as he sucked the lifeless out of me. One thing about him, he doesn’t miss a show to watch his effect on me, he restrains my legs down from moving and I couldn’t do anything but wiggle underneath him as he practically made out with my desperate wet lips that were aching to get assaulted.

“I-I’m…fuck… close” I moaned out. I hold onto his hair for dear life as I felt myself about to explode, my toes curled and my back deepened it arch when it finally reach into that peak and just hearing the sound of him slurping every drop of my juice into his mouth as he continued to devour sparking up the fire in my core. I moaned practically cried out when I exploded into my second case, Charles pulls back and watches his work in progress. I couldn’t help but burst out into laughter at the mess on his face but it sure looks good on him.

“Loving the new face mask” I breathlessly joked.

“It’s my favorite one too, it’s called Mel’s juice” He smiles exposing his dimples as we both breathlessly laugh. He took a rise and so did his jumper, I furrowed my brows when he extends his hand out. I was hesitant at first but I had to come quick to my senses that I didn’t thought about all of this the min I let him walk in tasting me in his mouth. That shit was better than my old fling back home. I reluctantly took his hand despite the fact we was both bare naked and he leading me out to the balcony, he pulls me into a embrace as the cold breeze brushes past my skin and his lil jumper making a little surprise down there.

“Have you ever fucked in a balcony?” He asks, his trailing all over my body. My head falls back on his chest as he nuzzled his head in the crook of my neck feeling his wet tongue, certainly I have a lot of public sex but this one was absolutely bizarre. My room was on the top floor but that doesn’t mean I don’t have a large crowd of people downstairs and neighbors sleeping in hoping these thin walls hadn’t woke anyone up. I turned to face him and soon my left legs were lifted off from the ground leaving the other one down, he looks down and lines his cock with my opening.

“Charles, let’s- fuck…” I breathlessly moan as his throbbing cock finally rams into my pussy like the desperate whore it would be, his hands gripped my waist tight as he thrusts in with so much power, I can hardly hold myself up. The lovely music of our skin slapping and his singing vocals in my ear was just the sweetest thing ever, let alone how big and wet his strokes was igniting the flames all over my body. He felt so damn good. I can’t believe I’m fucking a F1 driver up in my hotel room, my roommate obsesses over this guy yet here I am getting dogged fucked by him.

“Fu-fuck…”

A small smirk lays upon his face knowing damn well he was behind all of moaning mess, I bit my lips trying to obtain any sound coming out of my mouth remembering I had neighbors next door but thay couldn’t be a simple task when he thrusted deep into my core hitting my G spot. Just the sight of the lustful frown plastered on his beet red face made me wetter even more making me forget about reality.

He seamlessly lifted me up with his body flushed against not allowing himself pull out as he takes us back inside, he gently placed me on the carpet floor and paused for a moment with his bright doe eyes staring into mines with a look of admiration, Charles fine ass fuck and he knows it.

“Tu es belle ma jolie fille” He spoke, it sounded so vanilla and sweet, my walls were beginning to clench around his cock. I don’t know what he said but overall his tops my favorite sex.

#writing #driver #black reader #smut #f1 x reader #random #charles leclerc #first post #imagine #18+ mdni

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