#the heart of him the man behind the name and beneath the face | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

tonycries · 1 month

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Government Hooker - T.F.

Synopsis. With the fame and glory of being an international popstar comes the inevitable threat of an overzealous stalker. You just didn’t think that it would also come with a very sexy, buff bodyguard behind your every move.

Pairing. Toji Fushiguro x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, popstar! reader, bodyguard! Toji, unprotected, brat-taming, spanking, choking, rough oral (male + female receiving), slight enemies-to-lovers, jealousy (Toji’s side), daddy kink, semi-public sex, manager! Nanami, creampie, power dynamics, dirty talk, stalking threats, TW. knife (brief), swearing.

Word count. 10.8k

A/N. WHEWWWWWWWWW need some buff bodyguard Toji in my life. Slightly inspired by The Bodyguard. Set in the Brooklyn Babyverse.

It’s in New York that you meet Toji Fushiguro.

Pop Princess’ World Tour in Jeopardy After Stalking Threats

Dark Times for Pop Royalty: Will She Return for This Year’s Grammy Performance?

Is It Over For The International Sensation?

“Nanami, for the millionth time, do I look like I need a babysitter?” you squint at the headlines flashing across your phone screen, resisting the urge to fling it at the nearest wall.

Sitting right in the middle of your whirlwind dressing room, you breathe in the heady air, thick with hairspray and anticipation for the upcoming shoot. Normally, you’d preen at the stylists swarming around you - but right now, their fussing only makes it all the more difficult to drive your manager dangerously close to an aneurysm.

As expected, Nanami drones out the same rehearsed response you’ve memorized word-for-word at this point. “My apologies, but with the severity of these threats, we can’t-”

“Afford to take any chances, I know I know.” Still, heart sinking, you scoff, “I understand, but 24/7 surveillance is insane. Can’t I have any-”

Bang!

To your chagrin - and perhaps Nanami’s mercy - the door flies open with a force that rattles its hinges.

As the bustling activity in the dressing room freezes, your eyes immediately snap to the hulking figure at the door. Expression steely and vigilant, he strides in with a presence that demands attention. You can’t help but raise a brow at his audacity - and the unreal rippling of his muscles beneath that skin-tight t-shirt.

“Sorry to interrupt, but that blue-haired freak Mojito at the front desk told me to come here.” a low rumble sweeps the room.

Ah, this must be the one. Gesturing your stylists away, you square your shoulders - ready for a fight. “And who might you be”

“Name’s Fushiguro Toji, your new ‘babysitter’, princess.” he declares, voice gruff and unwavering over Nanami’s tired hum of “Bodyguard, he means bodyguard”.

You narrow your eyes, studying the pure disinterest on his face. Great, just what you needed - you didn’t claw your way to the top to be scared and controlled by some loser stalker. Tilting your head defiantly, “Hmm, you don’t look like much of a bodyguard.”

Toji’s lips twitch into a sardonic smirk, gaze meeting yours with a hint of challenge, “Mhm, and you don’t act like much of a princess.”

You could almost hear the record screech to a halt. Everyone holding their breath, eyes locked on you as an agonizing beat of silence passes, half the room on the verge of fainting.

One. Two.

A startled laugh bursts from your lips. Shattering the tension in that dressing room as swiftly as the mirror in your stylist’s hand would’ve had you remained quiet a second longer.

The audacity of this man. No one’s ever spoken to you like that before.

Toji’s grin widens at your unexpected reaction, that sinful little scar on his lips stretching in amusement. Some small, strange part of him satisfied at passing your invisible test.

“Well, look at that, didn’t expect ya to have a sense of humor.” he comments, tone positively dripping with sarcasm, as if toying with you.

Plastering on that painfully saccharine sweet smile usually saved for nosy interviewers, you mockingly bat your lashes. “And I didn’t expect to have a babysitter breathing down my neck.”

“Oh don’t expect me to babysit, princess. I don’t get paid nearly enough for that. According to that hardass manager of yours, my job is to keep you safe. Whether you like it or not.”

With a dismissive wave of your hand, you turn back to your make-up artist, clearly done with this tedious conversation. “We’ll see how long that lasts. I have a knack for losing unwanted company.”

And if there’s one thing you’ve come to learn with Toji Fushiguro, it’s that you do not have a knack for losing unwanted company. Especially not him.

Wherever you went, Toji was there first - it didn’t matter how fast you escaped, or how many hats and masks you put on. He was everywhere.

He was there when you slipped away to swap sunglasses with a passing stranger, convinced you’d outsmarted your looming bodyguard. But your triumphant laugh caught in your throat as you heard that familiar chuckle behind you - whirling around to find him sporting your ill-fitting shades with an amused glint in his eyes.

He was there during a chaotic fashion show, where you blended seamlessly amongst the flurry backstage, hoping to escape Toji’s watchful gaze. Heart pounding, making it all the way to the elevator. You’d barely let out a breath of relief before large hands intercept the closing doors. Towering figure stepping inside with a knowing grin, “Going somewhere, princess?”

Hell, he was even there when you hatched a plan to ditch him on the tarmac of the bustling airport. Making a dash for your private plane, and settling into your plush seat with smug satisfaction. Ah, at least you’ll have a few hours of peace until Tokyo without-

“Damn, first class is nice. Must be nice to be pretty and rich.” a low whistle causes you to groan inwardly (and outwardly).

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” you mutter under your breath, at the man seated right beside you. At this point, you half expected him to be keeping guard outside as you shower.

Toji was always there. Steadfast as ever, firm chest always blocking whatever escape plan you’ve concocted. In all your years in the spotlight, you’ve never felt so frustrated. The dawning realization that there was no escape matching your slowly slipping sanity as you kick off the first stop of your world tour - Tokyo.

It’s in New York that you meet Toji Fushiguro.

It’s in Tokyo that everything changes.

Electricity crackling in the air, deafening roars of your name in your ears - you stand center stage. This was where you belonged - where you felt alive.

Pouring your soul into your words, stage lights dance across your skin, as frantic as the adrenaline in your veins. The crowd before you was a living, breathing entity, swept away with energy and excitement.

The music swells to a crescendo as your voice carries across the arena, limelight following you spellbound.

In the intoxicating performance, you don’t notice a pair of widened green eyes doing the same, goosebumps rising along his skin. Gaze fixed on you with an intensity that rivaled the spotlight itself. A silent reverie.

As the final notes of your song echoed through the arena you felt a rush of euphoria wash over you. Lights dimming, you draw a long breath, savoring the crackling energy onstage. A high that left you craving for more.

With a grateful smile, you bow deeply, screams and applause reverberating in your ears like thunder.

The cheers continue to ring in your ears as you’re whisked away, backstage buzzing with excitement and anticipation over the special guests for the VIP event. Enveloped by your team, you navigate through the labyrinthine corridors of the arena.

You catch Toji’s eye from where he flanked your right, your brow raising ever-so-slightly as if silently asking, “C’mon, didn’t I kill it out there?”

But before you can decipher the fleeting expression on his face, the moment is shattered by a sudden commotion up front.

“Hey, over here! Is it true there's a stalker after you? Is it to boost album sales?”

“Can you confirm the rumors that you're cozying up with Satoru from Tokyo Special Grades? The fans want answers!”

“Hey! How do you respond to critics who call you a has-been? Come on, speak up!”

You’re barely given a second to breathe before the paparazzi descend upon you like vultures. Bodies jostling urgently as rapidfire questions and incessant flashes make you see stars behind your eyes.

Trying to block out the swarm of questions, you close your eyes amidst the dizzying chaos, trying to find some semblance of stability.

And stability finds its way in the strong arm that wraps protectively around you, pressing you close against a sculpted chest.

Toji.

“Don’ worry, princess, I’ll get you outta here.” hot breath brushing against your ear, sending shivers creeping down your spine.

Pulled impossible close to his muscled frame, his steady heartbeat grounds you - while yours stutters as Toji’s voice cuts through the clamor like a knife. “Back off, vultures. Show some respect or I’ll make sure ya regret it.”

Steely gaze almost provoking - as if anyone would dare challenge the imposing, almost frightening presence in the middle of the room. The paparazzi, momentarily stunned, falter in their pursuit, allowing Toji to carve a path through the chaos.

Hands still tight around you, as you’re hastily escorted away from the chaos, you steal a glance at Toji’s profile, illuminated by the harsh flashes of the cameras. Finding some intrusive little part of you that thrills at the raw intensity, cheeks flaring in response.

He’s so warm.

You could almost cry as those gaudy VIP doors swing open, swiftly ushering you to safety. They slam shut, sealing off the cacophony outside. In the soft lounge music wafting through the air, you’re left with the nagging awareness of Toji’s body heated against yours.

Embarrassment floods through you like a tidal wave as you register the way you’re still clinging on to him. Abruptly pushing away, you take a larger step back than was probably appropriate.

In the dimly lit room, you couldn’t make out exactly what was twinkling in Toji’s eyes as they flicker to you. But what you could see was that amused grin curling his lips as you uncharacteristically stumble over your words, “Thank you- Uh, for the way I-”

“Princess~!” Words choke in your throat as a flash of white and blue barrels into you, sending you reeling backward. Playful laughter ringing through the air.

“S-Satoru?” you stammer, caught off guard. Before you’ve fully recovered, he’s pulling you into a bruising hug, nearly knocking you off your feet.

“Hey there, gorgeous,” Satoru purrs, voice velvety as he leans in. “You absolutely killed it out there tonight.”

“Oh my gosh, Satoru! I haven’t seen you in forever.” A laugh escapes your lips, though the lingering warmth from Toji’s proximity still prickles at the edges of your consciousness. “What are you even doing here?”

Satoru chuckles, gaze lingering on you, “Couldn’t miss the biggest concert in Tokyo since ours, duh.” His energy was infectious, and you find yourself smiling along. “Thank you Satoru.”

As Satoru continues to chatter animatedly about the concert, you distinctly realize that Toji has slipped into the background. Where was he? You find your eyes darting around the room in search of his familiar presence, slowly noticing the lack of Satoru’s bandmates in the process.

Your curiosity piqued, you couldn’t resist teasing him. “So, where are the rest of Tokyo Special Grades? I thought you guys were inseparable”

He shrugs it off casually, leaning down to whisper conspiratorially “Rehearsal. Don’t let ‘em know I’m here.”

As you titter at his antics, he gives you a playful nudge, eyes twinkling with mischief. “So…since the band’s away, how about you and me grab a drink together?.”

Something heavy pools in your stomach as those familiar words ring in your ears, hanging in the air - you knew all too well what he meant.

Skin still tingling with the lingering heat of Toji’s touch, your eyes sweep the room for him one last time. Some strange part of your heart pangs when you find that those piercing green eyes, always studying you so intently, are nowhere to be found.

“Lead the way, Satoru.”

---

The world was rocking, as were Satoru’s fingers on you. Softly tracing along your collarbone, touch searing as he pushes you against the wall of your hotel room.

Shivers run down your spine, all the way to your heated core. Breaths mingling, a desperate hunger ignites in the air as your fingers just barely graze against the buttons of his overpriced button-up.

Tension reaching its peak, fingers hazily fumbling with those tedious buttons-

Bang!

You both startle as the door swings open, breaking the heady atmosphere inside. Dazed, you whirl your head towards the intruder standing at the door - Toji. Seems he had a penchant for dramatic entrances.

Toji stands in the doorway, his gaze dark and unreadable. Without a word, he strides into the room, narrowed eyes flickering between you and Satoru.

“What the hell is going on here?” Toji’s voice is low and dangerous, cutting through the tense silence hanging in the air.

Satoru tries to play it cool, though you catch his easy smirk faltering slightly, “Oh? The bodyguard, right? What brings you here, my man?”

Ignoring the question - and Satoru altogether - Toji turns to you, eyes never leaving yours. “24/7 means 24/7. As your bodyguard, I can’t permit some stranger to get too close.” he asserts.

Mind still burning with lust, you feel red-hot irritation simmering beneath your skin. Fists clenching at the tone that leaves no room for argument.

“I don’t recall signing up for a warden.” you snap, sharp and defiant.

Toji’s expression remains impassive, but there’s a glint of determination in his eyes. “I’m not here to argue, princess. My job here is just to keep you safe, princess.”

You scoff, shaking your head in disbelief - this was ridiculous. “Uh, newsflash, Toji. I can take care of myself just fine.”

“You little brat-”

Before the argument can escalate further, Satoru cuts in, his voice uncharacteristically calm and conciliatory. “Hey, it's okay, man. I’ll just leave,” he says, stepping away from you and raising his hands in surrender.

You shoot Satoru a look of frustration, torn between the desire for independence and for someone to fucking make you cum, and the unsettling feeling of vulnerability that Toji’s presence somehow seems to evoke. As the door slams shut - not before a playful hum of “Call me, princess~!” - a deafening silence envelopes the room.

The room that now feels too small. Too hot. Thighs still quivering in anticipation.

Shit.

Mind racing, you don’t catch the way Toji’s gaze softens slightly, a hint of regret flickering in his eyes. “I’m sorry, princess. But I can’t take any chances, I’m here to protect you.”

“Enough with this ‘princess’ crap.” Running a hand through your hair, you let out an exasperated sigh, trying desperately to quell the storm of emotions swirling uncomfortably inside you. “And protect me from what? A harmless hookup?”

“From whoever is sending those threats,” Toji growls. “Until we catch them, you’re not allowed to be alone with anyone.”

Frustration reaching a boiling point, you storm up to him. “Fine, then you can stay here and watch me 25/8 for all I care. But, what are you going to do about that?” each word punctuated by a hard poke to his sculpted chest, laced with defiance - but also something raw and primal.

Green eyes darkening with intensity, you watch his jaw clench in restraint. He takes a step impossibly close, the air crackling with something you couldn’t name.

“You don’t get to play games with me, princess,” he warns, his voice low and husky, sending a shiver down your spine.

But - as always - you refuse to back down. Heart racing, mind hazy, you stand close enough that you’re toe to toe with him. A hand reaching out to grasp his large ones, manicured nails digging into the heated skin. In one, fluid motion, you place his hand in between your skirt, heated core soaking through your thin panties.

“I’m not playing games, Toji.”

Before you can react, your back hits the wall. Surface cool on your heated skin. A brick-hard body is against yours, you could almost sink into him at how close he was pressed.

Heat rushing to your cheeks, slick gushing to your cunt, your eyes lock with Toji’s darkened ones. He murmurs, words low and making your pussy jump in anticipation, “Didn’t expect you to be so filthy, princess.”

You lean in, lips mere inches away from his, whispering seductively. “Oh you have no idea.”

You didn’t expect those to be the words that make him snap - then again, you didn’t expect him to snap so easily either.

Toji’s eyes widen slightly, his jaw dropping open as he processes your words. He stares at you darkly for a moment, gaze traveling over your flushed cheeks, your devilish grin, and finally settling on your heaving chest.

Toji pins your wrists above your head with one hand, the other roughly tearing your skirt off your waist. Flimsy cloth hitting the carpeted floor.

“Hey! Those are Dolce and-”

You don’t get to finish your sentence before his lips capture yours. Words catching in your throat as his tongue plunges unforgivingly into your mouth.

Hands groping and teasing every inch of skin they could find. Kneading your breasts through your shirt, biting down hard on your bottom lip.

A desperate whine that you definitely would’ve been embarrassed about had you been in the right state of mind leaves your lips as something achingly hard grazes your core. Shit, you had an inkling but he was going to split you apart. Mindlessly wondering whether you’ll have to cancel the photoshoot tomorrow. Hips bucking for more more more-

“Patience, princess.” he murmurs, hotly against your lips. Thick fingers slipping beneath your panties - ripping them off. You gasp as the cold air hits your cunt, thighs quivering at the neat fingernail grazing your swollen folds. “You need to be taught a lesson first.”

You’re not in the mood for patience. But whatever retort gets stuck on the tip of your tongue as a long finger circles your throbbing clit. Tight, urgent little circles that inch you closer and closer to insanity. “F-faster-”

“You’ll take what I give, my lil’ slut.”

“I don’t have to listen to you.”

Ah, but alas - thank god for Toji Fushiguro being a merciful man. At least for the moment.

Pressing a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses down your body, dropping to his knees with urgency of a madman. Gaze fiery fiery with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine - you were in for it.

Licking his lips, tongue catching on that small scar by the corner, he dives nose-deep into your needy pussy. Bed mere meters away, Toji takes you right against the wall.

His hungry gaze devours you just as greedily as the mouth on your cunt. “Ah! Hah- Oh, Toji!” you gasp, arching into his hurried yet expert tongue. Harsh, purposeful movements that send electric shocks straight to your core.

“Not Toji, princess.” he murmurs, lips hot against your own. Urgently lapping at your juices, as if a man dying of thirst.

Something hot and sticky coils at your stomach - maybe at the way his tongue was crooking just right to tease your dripping entrance, bullying its way past your swollen folds. Or maybe at the way the realization has your slick beading out of your pulsing pussy.

“D-daddy?” you whimper, almost-experimentally.

And apparently it was the right answer, as Toji lets out a guttural groan into your snug cunt. Nose catching against your abused clit, rubbing hurried little circles. Tongue stretching out your snug walls, pooling your juices, unforgivingly dipping in and out in and out in and-

Speeding up now, his tongue has you losing your mind in ways you didn’t even know were possible. “Hngh- faster. Fuck me like you want it, daddy.” you whine, hips grinding further into his mouth..

And he lets you. In your lust-addled mind you barely have time to think about this strange act of mercy - only thinking of how close you were. So close. So fucking close. Mere moments away from shattering completely. Mind filled with only Toji and his tongue and Toji-

“Didn’t think I’d be so nice to ya, did you, princess?”

Orgasm slipping through your fingers, your crash from euphoria matches that of your heart.

Ah, Toji could cream his pants at the way your face fell so adorably as he pulled away. Delicate strings of spit and slick still connecting him to your slutty pussy.

“Toji?” you mewl, bruised lips falling into a pretty pout that made him want to throw caution to the find and stuff you full of his cock right now. But no, he had to teach his lil’ princess a thing or two about not getting everything she wants.

“Patience, princess.” With a grin, Toji warns, voice husky and sending shivers down your spine and making you grind your hips against his lips. Before you can whine in disappointment, a sharp smack! cuts through the heady air. The sound hits you before the realization that Toji hit you.

A sharp slap against your ass, the impact shocking you briefly before arousal takes over. You yelp at the sting, eyes widening in surprise.

“Wha-”

“Count to ten, then I’ll let you cum. You need to learn a thing or two about listening, brat.”

You stare at him defiantly, your heart pounding in your chest. A silent staredown that only makes heat pool more and more desperately at your core. Deafening need, slick dripping down your legs pathetically.

“O-one.” you whisper, voice strained with frustration and barely audible.

He watches you like a predator stalking his prey, eyes never leaving your face. Smack!

His hand connects with your ass again, a low hum of appreciation at the mewl leaving your kiss-bitten lips at the pain and filthy pleasure. Your ass stinging as much as your dripping cunt.

“...two.”

Apparently approving of your obedience, he dives back in with a low growl. Burning his face between your thighs, because fuck oxygen - breathing couldn’t compare to how sweet you were on his tongue.

Lapping up your sensitive folds, scar rough against them, teasing. Edging your climax and your sanity like the merciless bastard he was. Smack!

“Hah- ah! Two- Oh, jus’ like that-” Broken, raw moans escape your lips as he continues his torture. Ah, he loved this view. The people’s princess, so teary and falling apart because of him.

In the obscenity of it all, thick fingers stuff themselves in your cunt. The lack of preparation makes you squeeze around Toji’s tongue as they pump into your sloppy hole relentlessly. In and out in and out-

Smack!

“Th-three- hngh-”

Purposefully missing that one spot Toji knew would have you seeing stars. You haven’t earned that yet.

Blood rushes straight to his cock as you throw your head back, letting out a strangled sob. “Daddy, let me cum. Wanna cum on your tongue. Ah-” Oh, you clever minx, knew exactly what made his leaking cock throb with need. For that you get two sharp smacks on each cheek.

“F-four. Five.” you’re in tears at this point. Delicate little streaks down your cheeks to where Toji had his face buried in your cunt.

“Tha’s right, princess.” Toji praises, voice thick with desire and sending vibrations that make your walls clench. “Tell me how badly you need it.”

Body convulsing uncontrollably around his hot tongue, pushing you closer and closer to the edge - only to reel you back again. Denying you. Chipping away at your sanity bit by bit. A hand reaches to grab a fistful of his silky black locks, tugging needily - and you get punished accordingly.

Smack! Smack! Smack!

“E-eight! Hngh- please.”

“Please!” you moan, voice raw with need and desperation. Finally breaking for him - being pushed this far with anyone before. “Please, let me cum. Please please wanna cum-.” Close. You were so close that it hurt.

Ever the merciful man, he forgives this little transgression. Only continuing to cup your sore cheeks possessively, hands mapping the expanse of your heated skin.

“Please, Daddy.” you choke, a broken whisper. Now exhausted, knees weakening, it’s all you can do to not collapse on the floor, Toji’s strong hold on your hip to control you being the only thing holding you up.

Several things happen at once. You barely even feel the final two, sharp slaps - too far gone to register anything other than the rough thumb pressing on your sensitive clit. Hard.

And then you’re cumming.

Body convulsing and bowing into him, crying out raw moans of Toji’s name as you cream around his tongue. Your vision blurs at the edges, grip searing on Toji’s hair, tangling in the soft strands and pulling him impossibly closer to ride out your high on his pretty face.

White-hot pleasure courses through your entire body, thighs quivering delicately around his face as you chase peak after peak.

As the stars behind your eyes disappear into nothingness, you’re left limp and boneless, held up against the wall with a single, muscled hand.

Toji - ever the gentleman, supports you with a steady arm before you slip down the wall, valiant knees finally giving out.

Blinking your vision back, you catch a glimpse of his achingly hard erection. Straining painfully against his trousers, a dark patch right where his thick head was. And despite your severely fucked out state, your mouth still waters.

Obviously catching your line of sight, he adjusts his uncomfortably tight pants. Steering your still-lustfully delirious self to the bed. “You were such a good girl f’me, princess. Let’s stay that way, hm?”

You blink up at him, confusion clouding your mind. Did he just compliment you? You must be mistaken.

But as you look into his eyes, you see a genuine twinkle of fondness mixed in with the desire that makes your skin burn. A heady combination. One that makes your mind spin, even as you’re carefully placed on the soft bed. Even as he swiftly closes the door with a low whisper of “Rest now, you’ve got a busy day tomorrow.” leaving no room for argument.

Sinking into the soft mattress, a strange surge of euphoria rushes through you as you realize two things:

Nothing would ever be the same.

It was going to be your personal challenge to make Toji Fushiguro crack.

Heart racing, feet thumping tersely against the plush carpet, for perhaps the first time in years, Fushiguro Toji is taken aback. The heavenly sight of you falling apart underneath him searing into his brain. Something coiling uncomfortably in his stomach, rushing all the way to his throbbing dick. But, right now, the only thing he’s thinking of being to fucking find somewhere to fuck his fist to the memory.

---

Your third night in Tokyo was a whirlwind of lights and camera flashes. And yet, in the midst of it all you still escaped - this time with Toji - claiming “security talks”. Pulling him into an abandoned green room, your glossy lips capture his with searing passion. Pulling away teasingly, breathless, only once you were sure you’d kissed him silly and achingly hard. And promptly skipping away to bother your make-up artist.

Ah, yet the stubborn bastard still didn’t crack.

It’s in Melbourne where you learned that Toji was much more than just a bodyguard. Finally bothering him enough to join you out rather than shadow you for the first time. Dragging him to a tiny karaoke booth tucked away in a dimly lit corner of town, belting out your favorite tunes to him while he leaned against the wall with his arms crossed. And if you caught a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips, well, neither of you said anything.

Your glittering heels were placed teasingly in his lap, chattering away as he drove you two back, your favorite pastime as of late. A silent dare, almost goading. His steely gaze trained on the bustling road and that one annoying blue car trying to swerve him.

“So, Toji, in your military stint ever tried to sneak away incognito but wear a disguise so bad you end up on the front page?”

He chuckles, eyes flickering down at your feet resting comfortably on him. “Can’t say I have, but I once mistook a high-ranking officer for a recruit. Had him doing push-ups before I realized my mistake.”

You burst into laughter, sound echoing in the car. Feet brushing against him right there - just a little accident, right?

But it takes until Paris for you two to break.

In the chic confines of your favorite studio in Nanterre, the scent of freshly brewed coffee heavy in the air, you find yourself chattering away on call with Gojo Satoru. His voice crackling through the speaker amidst the glow of studio lights.

“That beat you sent is pure magic, Satoru. It’s perfect!” you hum, excitement bubbling in your voice as you bob your head to the soft music playing in the background.

Satoru’s response is immediate, enthusiasm matching yours, “See, what did I tell ya. Can’t wait to see what you’ll come up with. You sure I get no sneak peaks for this secret lil’ project of yours?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Thought so, but anyway, how’s the City of Love been treating you, darling?” he teases.

You laugh, rolling your eyes playfully, “Please, Satoru. You know I’m too busy dodging Toji for any of that.”

Satoru chuckles knowingly on the other end of the line, “Ah yes. From what happened last time, I imagine he’s been a welcome distraction, huh? Hey, is his dick really as big as his BDE is?”

“Oh fuck off.” you scoff, heat rising to your cheeks. “And for that, I’m leaving.”

Swiftly ending the call, you cut off Satoru’s protests. Slight embarrassment coursing through your veins at how apparently obvious you two had been. A strange pang of longing flickers in your chest as you realize you haven’t seen Toji all day - Nanami mentioned something about a security briefing for your closely upcoming Grammy performance.

You sigh at the irony of the situation - just when you thought you got that freedom you’d been yearning for so long, you find yourself wanting for that musclehead presence even more.

Shaking your head, you turn back to your mixing console, ready to throw yourself into the music once more. Yet before you could, your phone buzzes with a new notification. A quick glance reveals that familiar contact name and a series of messages that have your cheeks flaring once more.

Blind rat #4 🧿🧿:

You better not block me for this but is this secret project for that bodyguard? You whipped WHORE~~

LMAO JKJK IK you don’t write songs about other people.

Unless…

As that block button was tapped, it’s said that Satoru’s piercing shriek echoed across in all 23 wards of Tokyo - making the people fear an oncoming Godzilla attack.

“Damn Satoru.” you grumble, tossing your phone onto the leather sofa in the corner. “Always saying stupid thi-”

But as you turn around, your breath catches in your throat. There, standing in the doorway, is Toji. His presence filling the space, commanding attention with an intensity that sends a shiver down your spine.

“Toji?” you breathe, surprise mingling with a rush of conflicting emotions. “I didn’t expect the briefing to end so soon-”

“What’s this about that brat Satoru, princess?” he murmurs, voice low and gravelly.

He raises his head to meet your gaze, and a jolt of electricity runs through your body. Oh, those eyes. Your skin feels heated in the crackling air. “Nothing.” you reply - almost suspiciously quickly - the words tumbling out in a rush, “Just Satoru being...well, Satoru.”

Toji’s lips twitch in a semblance of a smile, a hint of amusement glinting in his eyes among that carnal look. “I see,” he murmurs, taking a step closer to you. You have half the mind to step back - but why would you ever.

“Y’know, I didn’t think you still talk with that white-haired clown.” his minty breath fans your face, darkened eyes searching yours. And you can see the question forming in them before he even asks. “You still plan on fuckin’ him when you go back to Tokyo?”

And usually you’d bristle. Usually, that hardened part of you that never takes shit would rear her head and give Toji an earful. Usually. But right now, a dangerous idea was taking root in your head.

Heat rushing to your core at the look in his eyes that said he wanted to devour you alive, you simply tilt your head coyly.

“So what?” A smirk playing on your lips, “Gonna do something about it, daddy? Or are you just gonna leave me all hot and bothered like you have-”

Your back hits the leather sofa before you even realize what is happening.

Bouncing at the sheer force of his throw, you let out a yelp of surprise. Skirt riding up, legs splaying out so sinfully for him.

The cushion dips as he looms closer, approaching you unhurriedly like a predatory closing in on its prey. A dangerous little smirk playing on your lips, you spread your legs wider, inviting him in. A carnal part of you relishing in the way his eyes can’t seem to decide between your soaked panties and the way you bite your lips so coyly.

“If you’re that desperate, then you’re gonna get it, my lil’ slut”

He’s on top of you now, tongue hot against your neck, leaving heated, open-mouthed kisses down to your collarbone. You yelp as sharp teeth dig into the soft skin. Hands exploring every inch of you, desperate for more - and you’re no better.

Sharp nails digging into that sinfully tight t-shirt, all but tearing it to shreds. Your mouth waters as it hits the floor, Toji’s chiseled body on full display. Your eyes greedily take in every curve and dip, hands reaching out to grope the toned skin. Pulling. Teasing. Not enough time in the world to savor the Adonis that was Toji Fushiguro.

His hands were pulling up your shirt haphazardly. Bunching your panties with two fingers, pulling down down down till your cunt was bare and spread open so shamefully for him. “Shit, so wet n’ ready. This for me or that brat, huh?” he grunts cruelly, lowering himself beside you to murmur in your ear.

“Now, on your knees, princess. Be a good lil’ slut for me and don’t make me wait.” breath hot against your ears, making you shudder so sinfully. It made him want to eat you alive.

You consider disobeying him, just to face his delicious punishment. But that predatory look in his eyes has you immediately dropping to the ground in front of him.

Your hungry gaze takes in the heavenly sight before you. Legs spread, eyes half-lidded, pants pulled down just enough so that his heavy, leaking cock bobbing enticingly in the air.

Eyes widening, your cunt clenches in both fear and anticipation. Shit, maybe this was why he was holding back.

He was big. Ridiculously big, and rock-hard. Furiously red with thick veins running down the side, glistening with precum.

“C’mon now, if you’re gonna act like such a slut then learn to take it like one, princess.” Saliva pools on your tongue, warm as it hits Toji’s thick tip, achingly hard. A carnal part of you relishes in the low hiss that leaves him.

Your tongue snakes out, unable to hold yourself back any longer. Swiping at the droplets of precum pooling on his tip. The sinfully salty taste explodes on your tongue, sending shocks of pleasure right to your cunt.

You feel his intense gaze on you as your mouth wraps around his thick head, inching down slowly. Stretching your lips obscenely, filling you up in ways you never thought were possible.

Your breath gets caught in your throat as he pulses in your throat. It was overwhelming and everything you wanted to be doing right now.

Ah, but you should’ve known by now. Should’ve realized as your teary eyes look up to meet the dangerous glint in his.

With a feral groan, his hips thrust forward. You were too slow.

Hardening impossibly at the way you choke and gag around him, tears springing to your eyes. Using you in a way that was so debauched. “Hah- Fuck. love it when you sing, princess, but you look better choking on my cock.”

Your nose was buried in his pubic hair now, wet with saliva and precum. His heady, masculine scent filling your senses. Toji’s thrusts were jerky, desperate.

Grip searing on your scalp, Toji uses it as leverage as he fucks your face till his tip hits your poor, abused throat. Moving you up and down on his cock with mindless need, hips rutting with reckless abandon.

Yet, you wanted more. Needed more. More more more. You wanted to feel him deep inside you, splitting you open, making you come harder than you ever thought possible.

And you’re guessing it showed on your dazed eyes. Because a broken, dangerous laugh leaves him. His grip on your hair intensifies, pulling your head back roughly until your eyes water. “More? You want fucking more? Then prove it.”

Toji’s thrusts increase in speed, his raspy grunts becoming louder and louder as he rams his cock deeper into your mouth, your pussy throbbing in response.

You moan around his erection, unable to form coherent sentences due to his length stretching your throat.

Without hesitation, you reach up and grab his balls, massaging them firmly as you suck him deeper. Pressing right in between that one spot you knew would make him see stars. Pressing tight little circles. Over and over-

An appreciative groan leaving him, Toji’s thrusts become erratic. Movements growing frantic. “Fuck, Fuck, princess, you're going to be the death of me,” he curses, his voice strained.

You rub your thighs together desperately, relaxing your throat more, refusing to let go. Desperate to taste him, to experience the blissful agony of his seed painting your mouth. But when has Toji ever let you have your way? Never, that’s when.

Instead, he yanks your head back, pulling you off his cock with a rough, almost cruel motion. Your lips pop free, leaving his sensitive head exposed to the cool air. Gasping for breath, your chest heaves as you try to regain your composure.

Before you can even register what's happening, Toji pulls you into him, forcing you on your hands and knees. Large hands grasp your waist, holding you firmly in place. “Face down, ass up. You’re going to take it like a good little slut.”

Delicious goosebumps erupt down your spine. Licking a long, languid stripe down your back along them as you position yourself before him, Toji couldn’t help but huff out a dangerous laugh at your sinful gasp.

Mouth watering at your glistening cunt, clenching so pathetically around nothing, Toji pools your juices on two of his fingers. Promptly pushing them into his mouth with a lewd pop! groaning at his favorite taste. “Next time, I’m gonna eat out your pretty lil’ cunt while you suck on my cock, princess.”

“Please, daddy. Anything.”

Fingers circling your wet entrance, your words were music to Toji’s ears. Music that mingles with your needy, disappointed whine as he abruptly pulls away. But that doesn’t last too long - with low hiss, he buries his throbbing cock into your dripping cunt with almost no preparation.

You keen at the stretch as he presses in - deliciously painful, boderling insane, and exactly what you wanted right now. Splitting you apart on his throbbing cock.

Toji was hot and throbbing agonizingly inside you, each little bump bump bump sending white-hot pleasure down your spine.

“Ah- are- are you all the way in, daddy?” he hears you whimper, voice tinged with helpless desperation. Huffing out a laugh, Toji’s greedy gaze catches on the obscene sight of you sucking him up so sinfully below. “Not even close, princess.”

Pushing in shallow, determined little thrusts that have your hot cunt enveloping him deeper and deeper. Cock hardening impossibly at the soft ah! ah! ah! leaving your mouth each time he rams into you. If you wanted it so bad, you were going to get all of it. A hoarse groan leaves him as his heavy balls meet your twitching folds, fat tip kissing your cervix - finally bottoming out.

Now, Toji knows he’s big - takes pride in it, in fact. But he’s never been more proud of the fact than right now, hungry gaze taking up the way your eyes widen in shock, snug walls clenching down with the struggle to accommodate him.

“You alright, princess?” he taunts, voice thick with satisfaction as he watches your face twist with a mix of pleasure and pain. “Can’t your slutty lil’ pussy handle my cock?” Tell me, he as big as me?

And, of course, you snap back - because you’re mouthy even when you’re whining around his thick cock. Ah, next time he’s gotta make you choke on it for longer.

“Fuck you, daddy.” your response is a feral growl, hips desperately trying to fuck back into his. “If you’re not all talk then fuck me like you want to already.”

Smack!

A sharp slap stinging your cheek, you groan in response as absolutely raw, carnal fucking need courses through Toji’s veins. Intoxicating him. Oh, he was going to ruin you. Grinning cruelly, he utters “Then take it. And don’t fucking complain.”

With that, he begins to move. Not easing in, ramming into you with animalistic efficiency. Your ass stinging as each thrust has his hips meeting yours brutally. Toji’s pretty sure his hips were out of control at this point, high off your teary cries of pain and pleasure. That cluttered studio heady with sex and pure, animalistic desperation.”S’good- ah! S’too much-”

Smack!

There’s no going back now. Toji fucks you in a way that makes you feel so deliciously filthy. Plunging into your heated cunt with no restraint. Thrusts positively savage. Every inch of him fills you, stretching you beyond your limits, and you love every painful second of it.

Vision blurring at the edges, you reach out a hand to grab the armrest for stability. Body jerking with each movement, his bruising grip on your hips the only thing keeping you from being fucked off the sofa.

“Who’s fucking ruining you like this?”

“You! Jus’ like that. Fucking ruin me, daddy.” Legs shaking uncontrollably, arching impossibly deeper onto his throbbing cock, you whine each time his length slides in and out of your swollen folds. “Harder…please, harder.” you plead, fucked out.

For perhaps the first time, he obliges, increasing his speed mindlessly. God, you were sure both of you were about to explode any second now.

Fucked out of your mind, you barely register the muscled front pressing into you, abs rippling against your back. Large hands snake from your hips, leaving deep, purple marks for you to remember him by.

Smack!

Another handprint on your ass, as you frantically move your hips to meet Toji’s unforgiving cadence. Sensing your urgency, one of his hands finds itself on your throbbing clit, drawing methodical, harsh circles on it. Pressing just enough to have you seeing stars being your eyes. And the other - digging into your neck.

Your frantic moans choke in your throat, feeling fucking delirious off both the change in angle and the hand around your throat. Eyes flashing at the lack of air and the blood roaring in your ears - and Toji.

“Open your mouth, princess.” he grows, voice dangerously close to your ears, cock still driving into yours with brutal precision. The intensity of the moment - electric.

Mindlessly, you comply, tongue lolling out so lewdly. That’s when he does it - without warning, he spits into your open mouth. Once. Twice. Three times.

Steady stream of saliva slightly missing your face - on purpose, you absentmindedly realize - as it dribbles over your kiss-bitten lips and down the side of your face. A marking.

“No one else gets to fuck you like this, princess.”

Hot on your tongue, sliding down to your throat. He tasted of such sin, it made your cunt clamp down hard.

“Now, what do good girls say?” he grits out, through clenched teeth. The absolute insanity in his voice matching the frenzy coiling inside of you.

“Thank you, daddy.”

You reach around to capture his lips with yours, nails digging into his neck hard enough to draw blood - a marking of your own. White-hot ropes of pleasure making you gasp into his lips - tender where his cock was unforgiving.

In the lewd haze of the moment you’re dimly aware of Toji’s body shuddering above you, throbbing cock twitching deeply in your pussy.

“Oh, fuck! M-hah- M’cumming, better take every drop like my good lil’ slut. Fuck.”

You flinch as he groans ragged profanities into your mouth. Tight balls squeezing painfully as he cums with a loud groan of your name. Thick, hot ropes that paint your walls white. Two large arms wrap bruisingly tight around your waist, veins popping out as he crushes you impossibly close to him. Toji’s hips not giving up their torture on your abused, awaiting cunt, pumping his seed deeper and deeper.

Full. You feel so full. And so, so complete.

You can feel such an obscene mix of your slick and his cum mapping down your legs every time his hips slam into yours. Dripping onto the cushion, pooling at the sofa in a way so sloppy, you knew you’d have to scour online later for a replacement.

Stomach now feeling uncomfortably inflated and hot, vision blurry, you collapse onto the cushion. The last of your strength leaving you with the orgasm that you’re sure fried your brain. You mewl at both the sensitivity and the sudden emptiness as Toji pulls out with a wet pop!

A rush of cum gushes out of you, drenching both you and the cushion below. Limp and boneless beneath him, you let out a sigh at the heat of his release seeping into your skin.

A soft silence fills the room like a lullaby. Everything feels so heavy. So dizzying and so warm. You barely register the strong hands lifting you gently towards the direction of the bathroom. The only thing on your mind being Toji and what a privilege it was to fall asleep in someone’s arms. You wouldn’t really mind this every night…

And in the dim lighting of that heady studio, fucked to sleep and covered in sweat and his cum, Toji thinks you’ve never looked so beautiful.

His heart lurches as he realizes - in all of Paris, the one sight he wants to look at is you. His pretty popstar.

---

“For the last time. I don’t do celebrities, especially not spoiled pretty popstars.”

Undeterred, the blond man leans forward in his chair, his expression indiscernible behind those glasses. “We’re told you’re the best of the best, even from ex-military. And if money’s the issue then I’ll double- no, triple whatever you’re making right now.”

Jaw tightening, skepticism dripped from his words. “All this for some celebrity drama?”

“Fushiguro, we’re talking big people, and even bigger money. And a girl’s life in genuine danger on top of it all,” a hint of desperation creeping into words that cut through the tense air.

“Genuine danger, huh?”

Toji runs a hand through his hair, questioning what the fuck he got himself into by opening the door for this human definition of a stick up one’s ass. Mind racing, eyes darting around the room, they catch yours - twinkling on the glossy cover of some magazine thrown haphazardly on the table.

Traitorously, something prickly and uncomfortable settles in his stomach as the words ring in his ears.

Genuine danger.

Heaving out a sigh, he narrows his eyes at the man currently studying his reaction.

“A year. That’s it. No more, no less. I don’t care if that prima donna princess of yours begs on her knees otherwise.”

But right now, your twinkling gaze set on him, lips curved into a blinding smile as you waltz through Los Angeles International Airport - as much as you could with your entourage - some small, raw part of him thinks he wouldn’t mind staying like this for a long, long time.

LAX was probably one of your favorite airports. Not because of its size or architecture, but because of the thrumming energy of the opportunity to come. Namely, your Grammy performance.

Eyes slightly heavy, yeah, you were cutting it close - to Nanami’s ever-graying hair at the stress. But hey - at least no paparazzi tipped off for your unexpected arrival.

You just couldn’t resist the temptation to push your departure off for a day. Taking the extra time to wander along the Seine with Toji, talking about everything from your new dance number for next month’s Madrid show to why Nanami was a masochist for staying in this industry, all the way to Toji’s military stories that even Hollywood couldn’t dream up.

The setting sun casting a soft glow on both of your uncanny disguises - your choice of course. A newfound understanding crackling between you two.

And right now, his presence steadfast behind yours as you weave through the bustling terminal, you feel a rush of excitement at finally performing that little project you’d been working on.

More specifically what Toji’s reaction to it would be. Would he love it? Would he hate it? Would he realize just what that inconspicuous voice memo you bothered him into was actually for?

But then came the real test: would he realize just who it was for?

The thought made you smirk inwardly. Imagine Toji’s face when he puts two and two together.

Turning around, you catch Toji’s eye, a mirthful glint dancing in yours. “So, Toji, ready to witness greatness at the Grammys?” you quip, tone playful as you bump shoulders with him. Of course, the man barely budges.

He raises an eyebrow, smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “As long as I don't have to wear a tuxedo, princess.”

“Aww, and here I was thinking we could match.” you whine. Though a chuckle leaves your lips, “And that reminds me…” you trail off as your voice drops to a conspicuous whisper.

Delighting at the playful sigh that leaves his lips as Toji leans down, allowing you to whisper words meant for only him. “You better reward me after my performance, y’know. I remember someone saying something about ‘eating me out till I cry’”

“You won’t be getting any reward if you continue acting like such a slut, princess.” warm breath tickling your ear as he murmurs.

“If the shoe fits.” you bat your lashes, mockingly innocent.

“If the shoe fits then please get into the car. The driver’s here and the team are on their way.” Nanami’s no-nonsense voice rings out. Already sounding dangerously close to an impending stroke.

“Yes, mother.” you quip, stifling your laughter as you step outside. It’s a short walk to your destination, the cool morning breeze greeting you as you head for your waiting car, just stuck behind some slightly-oddly parked blue car.

Ah, that’s LA for you, you chuckle inwardly, walking towards it - that strangely familiar blue car. The one you’ve seen a few too many times these past few weeks in the corner of your vision.

Strange.

Steps slightly speeding up, a cold sweat trickles down your spine. Unease prickling at the back of your mind, something tells you you’re being watched. And not in the way of paparazzi snapping a stray picture.

Subconsciously, you take a half-glance inside the car - time freezes. Heart immediately lurching into your throat at the sight.

There.

The door swings open.

A flash of blue hair, one foot out of that dreaded blue car - is him. You don’t know how you knew it was him. You don’t know how you knew he was there. The only thing being your eyes locked on that glinting knife in his hand. Winking mockingly at you in the morning sun.

Gray eyes locked on yours, whirling with chilling maniacal intensity. The cool morning breeze feels icy against your skin as a primal fear claws at your insides once you realize the imminent danger.

Toji’s trained instincts kick into high gear, eyes locked with his. Positioning himself between you and the assailant, his hand reaches for the weapon concealed beneath his suit jacket. Only for them to stutter in midair as he realizes they’re still safely stored in his checked luggage. Unreachable.

Shit. Clever bastard.

Nanami moves with a swift grace, eyes scanning the surroundings for any nearby law enforcement.

Mahito’s lips curl into a malevolent smirk as he realizes the vulnerability, grip tightening on his knife as he takes a menacing step forward. The air so tense you found it hard to breathe.

“You.” the words ring venomously, panic surging within you. “You think you’re so high and mighty, huh?”

“Step back before you do something you regret, you freak.” Toji’s voice is steady, body poised for action. Eyes locked on every minute tremor of the knife in his hands.

His eyes wide and bloodshot, staring right into Toji - almost as if trying to look at you through him. “Little princess~” he taunts in an eerie sing-song voice. “Why did you leave me here all alone, I was lonely, y’know~ And this gorilla never left you alone, ah what a pain to follow you around. But I did it- of course, I did it for my princess.”

Another step forward.

No one engaged with Mahito’s delirious rambles. Nanami’s hand was firm on your shoulder, whispering in your ear to get away. Now.

But your mind was stuck on the words that cut through you like a knife - the knife that he was now slicing through the air in jagged, deranged motions. “She can’t leave. She belongs here with me.”

Before anyone can react, Mahito throws himself forward with startling speed. Glinting blade deadly through the air. You stagger backward, the world spinning in a dizzying blur of fear and desperation.

Toji springs into action with lightning speed, body lunging expertly. Hands deflecting the blade with a swift motion. Knife flashing mere millimeters away from his skin.

Yet Mahito continues struggling relentlessly. Each movement calculated and cold. Hand slashing at Toji as he ducks and weaves away, attempting to divert the attack away from you.

The grip on your shoulder tightens, “Let’s get away now. While he’s distracted.”

You’re being pulled away before you know it.

Movements sluggish in the air thick with tension and fear. Your body is frozen, ice running through your veins. Nanami’s urgent hold on your shoulder moving you away.

But your eyes remain locked on Toji.

On the way he swiftly tries to find an opening amidst the blur of movement, knife slashing away as if it were a game. You were fighting to look back now, body twisting against the one moving you away. Struggling to follow Toji’s powerful kick to Mahito’s midsection. The impact knocking the wind out of him, knife faltering. Yet rage still surging.

Hand coming down down down. Merciless metal meeting skin. Red-hot crimson flashing behind your eyes and staining the ground below Toji as he’s slashed viciously.

It’s in New York that you meet Toji Fushiguro.

It’s in Los Angeles that you think you might lose him.

The sickening sound of metal against flesh echoing amidst the blood-curdling scream you don’t realize you let out.

The sound making Mahito falter for the briefest millisecond, a flicker of hesitation flitting across his twisted features.

And it’s all the opening Toji needs.

Launching himself at the man, colliding with a bone-jarring impact that has both bodies crashing to the ground.

A deadly struggle, and despite Mahito’s fierce grappling - fueled by pure madness - he’s no match for Toji’s punishing blows. Every strike clear and calculated, pinning his flailing hands to the ground.

The screech of metal against gravel and distant footsteps ring in your ears, as Toji wrestles the knife from his hands. Glinting metal skidding away.

For a fleeting moment, the world seems to hold its breath.

“You’re supposed to be with me.” Mahito's voice pierces through the din, voice hoarse and desperate. “I’m the one who’s been there for you ever since you stepped foot in that godforsaken agency. Me. It’s me.” he snarls. Eyes cutting into yours.

Takedown tightening, Toji pins his body tighter against the ground. “You don’t have the right to talk to her, you blue-haired freak. Be grateful we’re in broad daylight and I can’t rip you limb from limb for her.”

You release a breath you didn’t know you were holding as Toji’s strained yet still steady voice rings in your ears - in tune with the voices you’re now realizing were surrounding you. As uniform-clad figures rush into your circle of vision, you distinctly realize with a jolt that it’s over.

Knees weakening in relief, you feel them hit the gravel. It’s all over. You feel light-headed - absolutely delirious. Vision blurring with tears and all you can see is red red red.

Blood roaring in your ears, you miss Mahito’s shrieks as he’s restrained and escorted away. The only thing registering in your mind being the warm hand under your arm, pulling you up gently as if you were something so utterly precious.

Toji.

“Are you okay, princess? Need me to loosen another one of that bastard’s teeth?” he rumbles slowly, slightly breathless. As you cling onto the words like a lifeline, a fresh wave of tears prick your eyes at his uncharacteristically careful tone.

“Are you okay?” you repeat, words heavy with remorse as you blink at the sight of that stark red against his t-shirt. A deep gash running along his side that left Toji vulnerable in ways you knew he would never openly admit.

Seeing your shaken state, he lets out a sigh. Pulling you flush against his chest, careful to avoid his injury. “I’ll be fine princess.” he murmurs, quiet words strained and meant for only you, amidst the chaos in the background. You lean into his touch, reveling in the feeling of him being solid and whole and here. With you.

You think you could stay like that forever.

Ah, but one can’t get everything they want.

Nanami’s voice cuts through the fragile peace with his usual calm authority, “I've spoken with the authorities,” you whirl around to meet his exhausted gaze. “They’ve assured me that Mahito will be taken into custody, and measures are being put in place to prevent any future incidents.”

Eyes flitting between you and Toji, he continues, voice taking on a much softer tone. “There’s no need for you to attend the Grammys after all that happened, I understand and will contact them if you wish to stay here.” And with that, Nanami walks away to a nearby police officer, presumably to give a statement - but you knew better, grateful for the moment of privacy he’d given you two.

Right. The Grammys.

Part of you is relieved at the prospect of not having to pretend that everything is fine in front of the flashing cameras and millions of scrutinizing eyes. And the other part, well, you glance up at Toji.

Wide eyes meeting those green ones. Unspoken questions swirling between you two like a whirlwind. Is it really over? What does that mean for us? Will you stay?

Please stay.

“I don’t want to go,” you confess quietly, voice barely above a whisper. “I want to stay here with you, make sure you’re okay.”

Toji’s gaze softens, a hint of warmth flickering in his usually steely eyes as he brushes a stray lock of hair from your face. “My princess worries about me, hm? I’ll be fine.” he reassures, yet words weak from the pain. “Go out there and kill it.”

And in the delicate tension of it all you find it in yourself to arch your eyebrow skeptically, “Fine? You’re bleeding out, Toji. That doesn’t exactly scream ‘fine’ to me.”

“I’ve had worse, I promise. Worst case scenario I track that freak down and break his arm.”

You let out a watery laugh as Toji leans down, hot breath fanning your face. His lips brush against yours in a tender kiss. A silent reassurance. But just as quickly as it began, he pulls back with a playful bite to your lower lip.

“Now go. Blow the overpriced silk pants off of all those overrated snobs. Trust me.”

You almost bristle at his words, but that twinkle of fondness in his eyes made all your inhibitions melt away - involuntarily, of course. Throat tight, you give an affirmative nod.

Now, Toji always did delight in catching you off guard. But right now, ignoring the fussing EMTs, watching you be hastily ushered away by your team - the words tumble out before he can stop them.

“Oi, princess.” he calls out, voice carrying over the chaos. “I love ya.”

And as he watched you trip over nothing but thin air, a lightheaded chuckle leaves him - maybe it was the bloodloss, probably it was that adorable look on your face. “Smooth, princess.” he laughs.

As you regain your composure and flip him off, promptly being whisked away by Nanami - who looks two steps into his grave already - Toji can’t help but feel a sense of pride swell within him. “Tha’s my girl,” he mutters to himself, a rare gentle smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

---

“Ladies and gentlemen, music aficionados around the world. It is my pleasure to announce our next performance, a star who needs no introduction. Get ready to witness the talent, the charisma, and the sheer audacity of the one, the only-.”

Cameras flashing. Cheers roaring, The anticipation electric as your name echoes through the auditorium, the audience’s excitement reaching a fever pitch as you take to the stage.

“Buckle up, darlings, because this is ‘Government Hooker’!”

---

“They don’t call you pop royalty for nothing, huh? You're going to take over the charts with that one!”

“Girl, who was that sexyass voice in that song? Drop me his number if you aren’t already with him.”

“Stunning as usual, huh?”

The whirlwind of congratulations and praise envelop you back at the Grammys afterparty. Your hand throbs from being clutched so tightly, and you can’t help but smile at the adrenaline and euphoria thrumming through your veins, washing away most of what happened earlier today. Yeah, you killed it.

But as you navigate through the crowd, exchanging pleasantries and posing for photos, a nagging part of your mind keeps returning to Toji. Red, red to match your gown. He should’ve been here with you tonight.

Nodding and smiling along at the compliments, you find yourself drifting away from the bustling center of the party. Constantly checking your phone for any updates other than Nanami’s “He’s alive.” text from a few hours ago.

Ah, there it is.

Finally reaching the exit, goosebumps erupt along your skin as you step out into the chilly night air. You’re momentarily blinded by the barrage of camera flashes from the waiting paparazzi outside. Their shouts merging into an indistinguishable cacophony.

Yet, you push forward, determined to reach your awaiting car.

Just as you approach the curb, a sleek black Rolls-Royce pulls up beside you, tinted windows shielding the figure inside. God, you gotta remember to give Nanami a raise.

Swiftly sliding in, “Nanami you wouldn’t believe-”

“I’d hope I don’t look anything like that walking resignation letter.”

Your eyes widen in disbelief as you turn towards the figure seated beside you, and there he is. Toji.

All signature smirk and twinkling eyes despite the bandages wrapped tightly around his torso.

A gasp leaves as your eyes catch on them, a million thoughts running through your head at once. “Wait, what are you even doing here- You’re hurt, are you even okay- Should we call the ambulance? Those look like-”

“Woah woah, slow down princess. I’m clearly alive, hm? Why, shouldn’t your muse be there to personally pick you up?” he chuckles. “Besides, you killed it out there. That shit was playing was all that every radio was playing for the last hour.”

You can’t help but laugh at his teasing tone, relief flooding through you at the sound of his voice. “Well, you are the exception.” Reaching over and gently cupping his cheek, that small scar was rough against your thumb.

Leaning in, bathed in the soft glow of the city lights, you take in the way his eyes crinkle at the corners when he smiles, the way his hand rests protectively on your thigh.

“Thank you.” you whisper, breath hot against his lips. And though you don’t specify for what - both of you know. Both of you understand. Your lips meet his in a lingering kiss, he tastes of mint and the anticipation of something new and freeing.

Pulling away slightly, his gaze meets yours with a rare little vulnerability. “Always, princess.” A raw second of silence.

One. Two. Before a smug smirk curls his lips, hand squeezing your thigh. “Now, I remember someone wanting to be eaten out till she cried as a reward?”

You can’t help but roll your eyes, “Oh yeah? Right here, right now?”

“Think we’ll make the front page, princess?”

“I know so.”

It’s in New York that you meet Toji Fushiguro.

It’s right now, giggling amidst the chaos of flashing cameras and forgotten afterparties, that you think you just might love him.

A/N. Actually frothing at the mouth I want him so bad y’all. Also, reader isn’t Lady Gaga, I just think the song fit.

Reblogs so, so appreciated.

Plagiarism not authorized.

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chosopie · 2 months

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PART 2, CONQUERER - RYOMEN SUKUNA

RECAP: After Sukuna invades your nation and kills the man you were betrothed to, he decides to take you as his queen. You comply to his requests to keep your little brother Yuji safe.

SUMMARY: You had just been wedded to Sukuna, and now it was time for your mating ceremony.

cw: battle for dominance, oral sex (f receiving), doggy, hair pulling, riding, slight choking, breeding, reader is inspired by helen of troy

: ̗̀➛ part 1

The ballroom in the heart of your palace remained lively with people dancing, singing, and eating heartily. Lots of women would wear outrageously flashy or expensive dresses that would, in their hopes, catch the new King’s eyes. They did not know Sukuna, for he would not even bat an eye at those kind of women. He has come so far to defeat every neighboring nation just to get to yours. He brought death and destruction with his footsteps, and let war sit on the right side of his shoulder just so he could have you in his hands, the woman kings and noblemen from every nation sought after. Your beauty was like no other in the world—so captivating that men would wage wars against each other to have your delicate hand. Your previous fiancé did just that, and quickly failed when Sukuna came lurking behind his careless back.

Tonight, you had just hosted the largest banquet anyone has ever seen. Such a lavish event is fitting for the union of the most beautiful woman in the world and the greatest conquerer man has ever seen. Sukuna patiently waited for you in his quarters, his muscular and broad body covered in a black silk robe with gold embroidery. On the other hand, your handmaidens were bathing you in soaps and fragrances that were made with the finest and rarest materials people can only dream of getting their hands on, yet here they were, being used to bathe your soft body. The girls patted you dry with a big and fluffy towel, then helped you slip onto your sheer nude lingerie that had diamonds around your chest, making your skin glisten in the warm lights. On top of that, you draped a large white silky robe over your body, the cool fabric sending a shiver down your spine.

You passed through the thin curtains and Sukuna was sat on the bed, waiting for you. He looked up, eyes immediately locked on your figure that was barely covered by your garments. He couldn’t help but envision your fully naked body, but he quickly shook those thoughts away upon realization that in a few seconds, he would be able to feast on your bare body. It would be all his.

“Come, woman,” Sukuna gestured you to move closer to him with his pointer finger.

You scoffed. “I have a name. Did you not know?”

“It doesn’t matter. You’re going to forget your name after tonight,” he smirked.

“I’d like to see you try,” you slid off your robe, exposing your body that was barely covered by the lingerie. Sukuna’s eye’s wandered on your chest and down to your plump hips and thighs. You walked towards him, his eyes remained fix on your body as he watched each and every movement you made.

Sukuna looked up at you, his hands stroking your sides and tracing every curve. His touch was warm and it made you burn with excitement. This man was capable of making you feel so much. You could fear him, and at the same time lust over the fact that he could destroy anything within an arm’s length. The power in his hands made you tremble with arousal.

It made you wonder whether you were doing all this just to protect whatever remained of your nation and your baby brother or if you were just as power-hungry as the greedy conquerer beneath you.

You pushed his hands away and slowly took off your lingerie while holding eye contact with him. There was an intense warmth that radiated off his body. You lifted up your arms to cup his face and push it towards the heat of your pussy. To your surprise, he didn’t protest. Instead, he put his hands on your hips for support while he buried his face into your cunt, his hot tongue lapping at your wet folds. You legs shivered and the pacing of your breath quickened.

“Sukuna,” you moaned, and he suddenly stopped. He moved back, but his face remained close to your wetness.

“Call me Ryomen,” he lowly said, before resuming his work.

His mouth was skilled in its work. He repeatedly licked and would occasionally bite on your clit, sending a wave of pleasure to wash over your body. It felt like electricity, the way the heat and arousal would travel up to your body with sparks. While he sucked hardly on your clit, he covered his fingers in your slick, then pushed them inside you. You gasped, your fingers tangled in his locks of hair. You moaned and writhed, pushing his head closer to you. At this point, your thighs were suffocating Ryomen, preventing him from breathing, but he didn’t care; his mind was solely focused on making you cum.

“Ryo,” you tried saying, the word smoothly rolling off your tongue. “I’m close.”

Ryomen felt his blood rushing. Most people who dared to speak of his first name would often say it with such fear for their lives, but the way your voice spoke his name made it sound so sweet like nectar was dripping from the tip of your tongue. He groaned against your pussy, the vibration making you hiss. His fingers kept thrusting and curling inside of you in such a fast pace that caught your breath. The pads of his fingers were rubbing your sweet spot while his tongue continued to play with your throbbing clit. The pleasure started to build up and you could feel it on your lower abdomen. You let out a moan before releasing yourself, your fluids coating his fingers and chin.

Your husband stood up and took his robe off, revealing his toned chest, abdomen, the big scar that ran in a straight line from his chest to stomach, and his lengthy cock. He grabbed your hand and placed it right on the scar, letting you trace it with your fingers along with the intricate muscles on his abdomen.

“See what you did? No one has ever been able to get this close to me.” He whispered.

“I know,” you smirked.

“Don’t get too cocky now, girl.” Ryomen warned.

“Me? Cocky?” He grabbed both of your arms and pushed you onto the bed. He held your arms behind your back, firmly holding them in place.

“Fuck you,” you muttered, but Ryomen didn’t hear because your face was pressed onto the sheets of your bed, muffling your voice.

“Arch your back for me,” he said into your ear, his chest pressed against your back.

Your face grew hot. Complying with his request, you arched you back and pushed yourself onto him, the wet head of his cock tapping your ass. Ryomen groaned at the sensation and slapped your ass. It didn’t hurt much, but it stung in a way that only got you more horny. He parted your legs and rubbed his dick on your folds, lubing it with your juices.

He was way too big.

This was going to be your first time and you weren’t sure if you could even take him. With his length and girth, it might end up hurting you. You propped yourself up and turned to look at him from the corner of your eye.

“It’s my first time,” you panted.

“Good,” Ryomen smiled. “Be honored. You’re my first as well. I’ll make sure you can handle it.”

That was the first time you’ve seen him genuinely smile. “That’s a surprise.”

“It is the culture of my homeland.”

Ryomen tightly held onto the soft flesh your hips, slowly pushing his dick in you. He starts thrusting with only half of his dick inside, but you already felt so full. His cock is so gritty is rubs every spot in your walls. Your pussy tightly clamps onto him, making his breath quiver. “You’re so tight,” he breathed.

It takes everything in Ryomen to not just thrust into you at full speed. He had to be careful with you, but every instinct in him is telling him otherwise. The sound of your pussy squelching on his length and the way both your fluids were dripping down your labia was driving him crazy. His mind was in a frenzy and his hands grew hot as he continued to feel up your ass.

“Too much,” you whined. “You’re too big.”

“If that was the case, why is your tight greedy pussy pulling me in,” Ryomen lightly chucked as he watched your pussy swallow his dick. The whole of him now buried deep inside you, making a small bulge on your stomach. His hand reached for your hair and tugged on it so you could face him. “Look how well your pussy is taking me.”

Your eyes were watery, not a single thought present behind them. Your mind was trapped in a haze of lust. All you could feel was the big surge of pleasure that came with each thrust. Beads of sweat dripped from your forehead and your back.

“Faster, Ryomen.” You dared to say.

“Finally. You can’t take that back anymore, alright?”

With no hesitation, Ryomen started thrusting into you hard and fast, causing your body to rock back and forth, your tits bouncing with you. He cupped your breasts, squeezing and kneading on them like dough. You could feel his dick twitching, eager to release its seed and paint the walls of your cunt white. He started panting and groaning, the pace of his thrusts getting sloppy and desperate. You could feel another orgasm following through, the tight feeling making your pussy spasm around his cock. A string of moans left your mouth as you allowed yourself to cum all over his dick, your insides tightening then letting go, milking his dick as he came with you. He looked at your shaking figure that glistened with sweat under the lights of the room. He groaned your name and laid his head on your shoulder, inhaling your intoxicating scent.

The two of you stared at each other with lust-struck eyes. He was sweating and panting, his cheeks lightly tinted red. With his right hand, he grabbed your neck and pulled you towards him for a messy and passionate kiss. Your tongues danced with each other, eagerly fighting for dominance while the mixture of your spit dribbled down your chin. He lightly squeezed your neck and you moaned into the kiss. You placed your hands on his shoulders and pulled him on to the bed. Your hands remained on his shoulders as you got into a comfortable position to straddle him. He cocked an eyebrow at you, amusement painted his face as he watched with intent.

Lowering yourself on Ryomen, you felt his cock slowly stretch you out again, easily sliding in because of how his cum had filled your walls. You repeatedly bounced on his dick, the tip hitting your sweet spot more effectively. Both your moans filled the room’s quiet atmosphere. Your grip on his shoulders tightened as the warm and hot sensation took over your body once more, your nails digging into his skin, surely leaving marks. There it was again, his cocky smile showing on his face at the sight of you using his dick to get off. It was pathetic to see you try and dominate him in this position, but you just looked like a desperate bitch in heat. He would have never expected you to be so needy for him, after you had put so much effort to convince him with your little facade that you were so angry that he had forcefully taken you as his wife. Deep down, he knew that you had been waiting for this.

Quickly enough, your legs grew tired, but you didn’t want to stop—you were getting close again and you didn’t want to lose the momentum. He notices the way your chest heaved and how your legs trembled from exhaustion. He wraps his arms around your waist, and pushed your body onto his dick, then lifted you up again. This went on, and he was doing all the work again, moving your body up and down with ease while he thrusted into you in sync.

“What a pathetic attempt,” Ryomen laughed. You opened your mouth to say a remark, but the only thing that you could muster up were more moans.

“Did I fuck the brains out of you already? Tell me who you are.”

All you could muster up was a pathetic whine. He was right and you hated it. How could someone inexperienced make you instantly forget your own name with his cock?

“See,” Ryomen triumphantly smiled, baring his teeth. “I fucking told you.”

: ̗̀➛ part 3

#rev.writes #thank u sm for 200 followers!!!!!#ryomen sukuna x y/n #ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n #sukuna x you #sukuna x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk fanfic #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x you #sukuna smut #jjk smut #ryomen sukuna smut

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drudyslut · 3 months

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— summary: zach is the best boyfriend you’d ever had, he loves you, cares about you, he’s gentle with you.. but his twin brother, rafe, tempts you one night, and you can’t help but fall for it.

— warnings: smut! 18+ cheating!!! drunk!reader, aggressive!rafe, throat fucking, unprotected sex, choking, smacking, praise, degrading, iii think that’s all.

— note: @rafesthroatbaby is the fucking devil for sending me this ask she got for this idea 😩🥵 as always- likes, comments and reblogs are appreciated 🩷

❥ boyfriends brother — r.c

zach. he was the sweetest, most loving man you’d ever had the pleasure of knowing.

he was sexy, captain of the men’s soccer team at your college, he had a good job lined up for him after graduation, he was everything you could have ever dreamed of and more.

but his brother… oh his twin brother, rafe.

rafe was zach’s polar opposite, no interest in sports, or working, he wasn’t sweet, he wasn’t kind or loving, but he was definitely sexy.

it was something about rafe’s mean demeanor that had you soaking your panties anytime he was around, anytime he’d throw a mean remark your way, or anytime he and zach would be arguing, you couldn’t help but ache. the sight of rafe angry, veins bulging in his neck and hands as he shouted the harshest things at his twin brother, it made you feel ways you knew were wrong.

you’d swore you’d never act on your feelings for rafe, swore you’d never let him tempt you. there was no way you’d ever sleep with your boyfriends brother.

and to be fair, you’d kept that promise… until tonight.

zach was out of town for the weekend, celebrating with his team for winning the biggest soccer game of the season. you had been staying at the cameron household for weeks, and this weekend was no different, you were used to being left at their home when zach wasn’t around.

you’re sat on the couch, downing your tenth glass of wine, head buzzing from the alcohol that was coursing through your veins. you were getting ready to call it a night, standing from your spot on the couch when a familiar low and raspy voice says your name, making your muscles tense, arousal already beginning to soak your panties.

“what’re you doing? drinking all by yourself?”

you glance up, eyes meeting rafe’s bright blue ones. he was wearing nothing but a pair of baby blue sweatpants that hung low on his hips, his perfectly tanned and toned chest and abdomen on display.

you shakily move your hand to grab your wine glass and the half drank bottle from the table, stuttering out a response in the process. “uh… y-yeah. i- the alcohol helps me.. uh- it helps me sleep”

rafe takes a step toward you, his head hung low before he slowly lifts it back up, eyes scanning the length of your body. you suck in a shaky breath, rolling your head from side to side as you try and gain your composure.

“yeah? you know what helps me sleep..” he pauses, taking a few more slow steps toward you until he’s standing directly in front of you, his large hands making their way to your face and pushing a strand of hair behind your ear, “sex.. yeah it uh, it helps me sleep”

you tense underneath his touch, the feeling of his fingers brushing over your skin sending a shiver down your spine.

you swallow thickly, dropping your gaze to the floor beneath you, “uh, yeah.. that uh, that’s a good way to sleep too”

rafe places his index finger and thumb on your chin, lifting your head back up, forcing your eyes on him. you feel your breathing accelerate, your heart pounding so loudly in your chest you were sure he could hear it.

he dips his head down, lips ghosting over yours. you press your palms firmly against his chest, trying to shove him back, but he grips at your wrists with his free hand, shoving them back down to your sides, “don’t try and tell me you don’t think of me in the ways i think of you, i know you want me. zach doesn’t know how to properly take care of a girl like you, a fucking whore. you need to be fucked like the whore you are”

“r-rafe. i-i can’t. i.. this is wrong, i-i love zach”

rafe chuckles darkly, his hand wrapping around your throat and squeezing tightly. he pushes you down onto your knees, his free hand shoving his sweats and boxers down his legs, his large cock springing free.

“i love zach” he mocks, “i know you don’t fucking love him, if you did, you wouldn’t give me those desperate ‘fuck me’ eyes every single fucking time you see me. now, be a good fucking girl, and suck my cock, yeah?”

you glance up at him, his normally bright blue eyes now dark, glazed over with lust. he releases his grip on your throat, his hand making its way into your hair and tugging. you swallow thickly before spitting down into your palm, slowly wrapping your hand around his thick length. you begin slowly pumping at his cock, pulling low groans from him.

you dip your head down, licking a long stripe up the underside of his shaft, leaving soft kisses to his swollen head, licking up the precum that had leaked from the tip. you hum in satisfaction when you taste him, finally wrapping your lips around his head and swirling your tongue around it. you slowly push more of his throbbing cock into your mouth, a slow and steady pace made as you bobbed your head up and down his length.

rafe tightens his grip in your hair, shoving himself fully down your throat and keeping you stuck, nose pressed against his pelvis. you begin gagging around him, his dick lodged deep in your throat pulling tears from your eyes, drool running down the sides of your mouth and his balls.

he harshly pulls your head back, his cock slipping from your mouth with a loud pop. you begin gasping for air, sucking in deep breaths. he grasps at his cock, slapping his tip against your cheek before slowly sliding himself back into your mouth, hips harshly thrusting in and out of your mouth, his swollen head beating at the back of your throat.

he continues his harsh thrusts, the sounds of your gagging and his low groans bouncing off the walls of the living room. his thrusts grow sloppy, dick pulsing in your mouth, signaling his impending release before he quickly pulls himself from your mouth.

you whine, the need of wanting to taste him strong, “raaaafe! why’d you do that? wanted to taste you” you pout.

he lands a harsh slap across your cheek, your neck snapping to the side. your hand flys to your cheek, rubbing at the spot as tears filled your eyes, “wh-what was th-” you begin to ask, but your words die, a squeal pulled from you when rafe yanks you off your knees.

his hands fly to the waistband of your silk sleep shorts, pulling them down your legs along with your panties. he grips at your thighs, giving a light tap against your ass, “jump” he demands, and you quickly obey.

your wrap your legs around his hips, his hard cock pressing firmly against your clit. rafe places one arm completely underneath your ass, keeping you upright while he free hand forces its way between the two of you, grasping his cock and sliding his head through your arousal slick entrance.

you begin whimpering, the head of his cock pushing into you slowly and then being pulled right back out. you gasp when he finally sinks himself inside of you, his tip stroking at your gspot, cock splitting you in half.

“holy fuck! rafe!”

he buries his head into the crook of your neck, mouth attacking at the skin as he starts fucking himself up into your pussy.

you’re a moaning mess, strings of curses and shouts of his name falling past your lips as he walks you toward a wall, your back being harshly pinned against it. rafe uses both hands to hold you upright, his palms tightly gripping at the plump flesh, his cock relentlessly pounding into you.

“fuck! feel s’good, tell me, who fucks you better? hmmm? me or my fucking brother?”

you pull your bottom lip between your teeth, tears pricking at your eyes as the realization of what you’re doing finally hits you. this was your boyfriends brother.. you were betraying zach, he would be heartbroken if he ever found out.

tears begin streaming down your face, a mix of pain and pleasure rushing through your body. rafe’s demanding voice and hand squishing at your cheeks has you snapping back into reality.

“fucking answer me! who fucks this pussy better?”

you whimper, “i-i.. fuck! rafe! i can’t”

rafe slows his thrusts, his mouth finding yours and leaving a hot, searing kiss to your lips. he pulls himself back, continuing his slow and sensual thrusts inside of you, “go on, fucking say it. i fuck this pussy better than zach. s’not that hard, little fucking slut loves being fucked by her boyfriends brother”

you whimper when he harshly thrusts up, your inner walls clenching around him tightly as your orgasm threatens to burst from you.

“say it!” rafe shouts, his brutal thrusts picking up in pace.

you let your head fall forward, face buried in the crook of his neck as you shout, “fuck! you fuck me better than zach! fuck rafe, ‘m gonna cum!”

rafe chuckles, “fuckin’ knew it! go on baby, soak my fucking cock, be a good fucking girl f’me and cum all over me”

the mix of his harsh thrusts and his words have you tumbling over the edge, your arousal squirting out of you and soaking rafe’s cock and thighs.

he continues fucking himself up into you, his hips stuttering and dick pulsing, “fuck, gonna fill you up with my cum, you fuckin’ want that? wanna have my cum inside your greedy little pussy?”

“y-yes! please cum inside me, rafe! i need it so badly!”

his hips stutter, his dick twitching inside you, the thick white ropes of his cum spilling inside you and painting your inner walls.

his thrusts slow, slipping his now softening cock from inside you and placing your feet back onto the ground. the room is silent, rafe turning on his heels and making his way toward his discarded sweatpants.

you awkwardly make your way toward the couch, grabbing your panties and shorts off the floor and pulling them up your legs. you watch as rafe makes his way into the kitchen, opening the fridge and grabbing himself a water.

“uh… rafe-” you begin, but he cuts you off.

“you don’t want zach to know, right?”

you awkwardly chuckle, “uh.. yeah. please, zach can never find out about this.. i- i really do love him”

rafe takes a quick sip from his water, pulling the bottle from his lips and smirking at you, “that’s fine. under one condition”

you narrow your eyes in confusion, your head slightly tilted to the side as you wait on him to finish.

“i get to fuck you whenever i want”

your eyes nearly pop out of your head, was he fucking crazy? there was no way you would do this again, no matter how badly you wanted to.

“what? rafe, we can’t ever do this again!”

rafe takes two long strides toward you, his hand making its way onto your cheek, “that’s the rule baby. i get to fuck you whenever i want, and zach never finds out”

you nervously chew at the skin on your bottom lip, contemplating what to say.

“i- fine! fine, if that’s what it takes.. but rafe.. i- this isn’t right, he’s your brother!”

rafe snorts out a laugh, “and? i don’t give a fuck, you’re mine now. mine to use, mine to fuck. whenever i want. night princess, i’ll see you tomorrow”

he makes his way toward the spiral staircase, disappearing up the stairs and leaving you dumbfounded and confused. what had you gotten yourself into?

RAFE TAGLIST: @ivy-34 @rafeism @thelomlisrafecameron @rafegirly @f4ll-for-you @drewstarkeyslut @starkeypankowsbae @m-1234 @dilvcv @thewitchesofart @rafesgfxo @unsaidjaelinrose @abbybarnesstuff @itsmytimetoodream @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @r1vrsefx @alexisbaumann2004 @yourfavborderhopper @moremaybank @rafetopia @mel119g @rafemotherfuckingcameron @jade-is-jaded @jjmaybankisbae @lexasaurs634 @lyndys @softlilacarrest @fayerite @exhaustedbutelated @urmyslxt @sierraluvz @presleyanswrites @carma-fanficaddict @rafescokenostril @madzzz0797 @slytherhoes @jscameron @jjsmarijuana @ijustwanttoreadlols @luversgirl @sugarcoatedstarkey @skyesthebomb @nirvanaissogood @stvrkey @vhour @emma77645 @rafeinterlude @superlegend216 @mannstarkey @digitaldiary111 @spideysimpossiblegirl @redhead1180 @crgirlsworld @personalfavsthatarerandom @carolinaxvz @maybankslover @bigslay86 @buckyisveryhot @cantstoptherecs @pradabambie @slut4ani @urbestieboo

rafe cameron masterlist | taglist form

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x you #obx rafe cameron #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x kook!reader #rafe #rafe x you #rafe fanfiction #rafe smut #zach mclaren #zach mclaren x reader

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shotmrmiller · 3 months

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Multiverse part 3

You sat in a small room on a padded chair, with equipment set up around your arm, chest, and fingertips. A polygraph test. That's what you were being forced to take. And to your chagrin, Ghost is in the room with you and Captain Price.

"Try to relax, yeah?" Price commented. He must've noticed your restless leg.

"I'll do that, shall I? I've done nothing wrong, other than exist and I'm being interrogated. Because that's what this is— an interrogation." You finally turn your attention from Ghost to look at Price, who's sitting at the desk by your side. "Tell me, Captain. Did you get this same treatment when you came back after spending all that time locked up in the gulag?"

His dark eyebrows furrow in confusion. A sigh escapes your bitten lips. That's only in your...world, for lack of a better term. Dimension? Universe?

"I haven't been to the gulag here." Yeah, obviously.

With an impatient wave of the hand that doesn't have cables strapped to it, you mutter, "Let's get on with this circus act, then. Ask your questions."

Ghost steps forward, his arms unfolding as if he's about to speak to you, but Price swiftly intervenes, halting him with a raised hand.

"Alright then. Baseline questions first. Name." Ghost gives away nothing when you say your last name is Riley.

It goes like this for a few, then he switches to the control questions, until finally moving on to the relevant ones.

"How did you get here?" I don't know.

"Do you know why you're here?" No.

He pulls up a photograph. "Recognize him?" Captain MacTavish.

Another photo. "Him?" I don't know.

"What do you mean by that?" If that's Roach, I've never seen his face unmasked.

"You're sure you don't know him?" Unless that man's name is Gary Sanderson, no. I do not know him.

Price acknowledges your response with a nod, then shifts his gaze towards Ghost, whose head slightly tilts forward. Returning his attention to you, he retrieves a final photograph. "What about him?"

As you look at the picture, your eyes begin to well with tears, lip trembling violently. A new fracture reverberated through your tender heart, intensifying the ache in your chest. Yes.

"Who is he?" Price softly asks.

"That's my Simon," your voice broke on the last syllable. It was hard to not use a possessive adjective when the face of your husband was in that picture.

Blinking the tears away, you clear your throat. "Anything else, Captain?"

Price purses his lips under his hefty facial hair and responds, "Just a few more questions."

Once finished, you sat unabashedly staring at Ghost in the tiny room. "I wear Roach's tags alongside yours, in honor. He was with you until the very end, and for that, I couldn't be more grateful."

Ghost is completely silent, but you continue talking anyway. "I've been married to you since a bit after you came home on leave that one time. You know the one."

His eyes are emotionless, blank, as he stares at you. But you know him like the back of your hand. You've got his full attention.

"I accompanied you to your brother's wedding. He married a woman, Beth. She was good for him. They had a baby, your nephew, named Joseph. The love you had for him was one of a kind. I had told you later that evening that I dreamed of the day you'd look at our children like that."

With a shuddery breath, you tell him how none of those matters. Because your husband is dead, and you're stuck here. With his counterpart that hates you.

With a hushed click, the door closes shut behind him as he leaves, yet its resounding noise fills the compact room you're in.

You begin to fidget with the sizeable ring that hangs on a thin necklace beneath your shirt— the metal is warm under your touch as if it had never gone cold in the first place.

As if Simon had never taken it off his finger to go find Makarov.

ah theyre short but hurt. much pain.

taglist: @1mawh0re @sae1kie @darkravenqueen98 @chinuneko @thestartitaness @bowtruckleninja @hawsx3 @uyudunmuyavru @prettyoatmeal @arael-asuka @spencerreidisbae123 @beau-min @lovefks @maliakealoha @kit-williams @clear-your-mind-and-dream @theloneshadow24 @wolfieisacat @littlebunie @bloobewy @kkaaaagt @sadsackssss @hypernovaxx @halobaby @lildemon475 @animarix @just-pure-trash @catatemyslideshow @hayleybarnesx @sasagehoes @thigh-o-saur @youdontknowe @destroyer-of-za-warudo @maxisqq @k4marina @onlineoutcast

#call of duty #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #multiverse cod #09 ghost #22 ghost #cod mw2 #cod mwii #cod #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon riley #simon ghost riley x you

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yuutx · 3 months

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ೀ ׅ ۫ . 𝐏𝐄𝐆 𝐌𝐄, 𝐌𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐘 ! ! (𝒞𝐻𝒪𝒮𝒪 𝒦𝒜𝑀𝒪)

choso kamo x f!reader . 18+ content. ⟆ nsfw. mommy kink. spanking. pegging. praise kink. implications of aftercare. ⟆ msub + fdom ⟆ not proofread ! ‎꒰ ⸝⸝ ˊ͈ ˘ ˋ͈ ⸝⸝ ꒱

i was gonna write a super mean reader x choso fic but we'll save that for next timeee ! ♡ + ↻ are rlly appreciated ! !

His eyes fluttered open, a blurry ceiling above him, a slight chill that enveloped his bare skin. His hair was splayed out around his head, his hands bound to the bedpost with a silk tie. Choso's mouth was parted, his face flushed red as he let out short, hot breaths, the sweat that formed on his brow glistened under the light of the room. His heart pounded in his chest, his cock aching as he struggled against the restraints that kept him bound to the bed. His hips thrust into the air, his body yearning for your touch, your love, the heat that you radiated. His tongue was heavy in his mouth, the saliva that pooled under it threatened to spill from his lips, his body was burning up and he knew that only you could quench this unbearable heat.

You sat back on your haunches, admiring your work. Your hair fell over your shoulders, your lips slightly bruised and your skin was littered with hickeys and love bites, a thin sheen of sweat coated your skin as you licked your lips, taking in the sight before you. Choso lay there, his eyes hooded, his lips parted as his breathless pleas spilled from them, his hips bucking up, his cock hard and weeping, pre-cum dribbling down the shaft.

Hickeys, bites, and scratch marks marred his perfect skin, the evidence of his desire and submission clear for all to see. You smiled, licking your lips as you looked down at his desperate cock, his hips stuttering, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as he fucked into the air. You reached over grabbing the lube, drizzling a generous amount onto your fingers. You tossed the bottle aside, your hands moving to circle his puckered entrance. Choso hissed, his eyes squeezing shut, his cock jumping as he tried to press back onto your finger, the slick digit rubbing along his entrance.

The strap you were wearing, was the only piece of clothing you wore. The leather harness clung to your waist and thighs, the silicon dildo bobbing in front of you. The eyes of the man beneath you followed every movement of the toy, his mouth watering as he imagined your strap filling him up.

You leaned forward, the tip of your finger breaching his hole, a groan rumbling deep in Choso's throat as his back arched. His hands gripped the silk ties that held him down, his teeth digging into his bottom lip, a whimper spilling from his lips. You leaned down, your lips brushing the shell of his ear.

"What's wrong, baby? Don't you like my fingers?" you snickered, a second finger joining the first. You began to move them, spreading them, scissoring them, curling them, opening him up for the cock that rested between your thighs. Choso keened, his hands fisting the sheets beneath him, his body rocking in tandem with your movements. Your name left his lips in a soft chant, a prayer, a plea. He was desperate for more, for anything you could give him. "Mommy.. mommy.. please, please… mommy.." he moaned, his voice cracking as you added a third finger, the stretch burning him, the slight pain adding to his pleasure. "N-need it.. need more.." Choso's breathless begs had you biting your lip, a fire growing inside of you.

You loved to hear him beg, his voice breathless and desperate, the way his tongue slurred his words, and his eyes filled with unshed tears as he looked up at you. You groaned, lifting his body slightly and twisting the bindings. His arms were now crossed behind his back, the silk tying his wrists together, his face pressing into the pillows beneath him, the curve of his back accentuated by his new position. Choso's knees dug into the mattress, his cock resting against his belly, smearing pre-cum along his abdomen. He whimpered, the ache between his legs becoming too much for him.

You moved behind him, gripping his hip with one hand, while the other guided the tip of the dildo to his stretched hole. You watched his back rise and fall, his breaths heavy and uneven, his muscles rippling beneath his skin as he trembled beneath your touch. You slowly sunk into him, inch by inch, the dildo stretching his insides. Choso threw his head back, his mouth falling open in a scream, his eyes wide, his body trembling. He gasped, his head falling forward as you bottomed out, your hips flush against his ass.

"Fuck, baby.. look how well you're taking mommy. Taking me so well, my good boy.." you purred, your hands gripping his hips tightly. You gave him a moment to adjust, his walls clamping down on the toy, the tightness making it difficult for you to pull out. Choso was gasping for air, his body still shaking. He let out a shaky sigh when you pulled out halfway before sinking back into him, the slow thrust making him feel every inch of the toy, every bump and groove on it.

You kept your grip tight on his hips, pulling him back as you snapped your hips forward. You set a fast, steady pace, your cock slamming into him with every thrust. Your poor baby could barely keep himself up, his arms were limp in the snug ties, his body being rocked back and forth as he buried his face into the pillows beneath him, causing his screams and cries to be muffled. Your hands moved up to his ass, pinching the supple flesh, watching as his ass jiggled from the impact of your movements.

Choso's cock was twitching uncontrollably, a string of pre-cum connecting the tip to the bed. He wanted nothing more than to touch himself, but the bindings kept his hands tied. The friction of his cock against the bedsheets was not enough for him, his body ached for release, his head fuzzy as you continued to slam into his prostate. He couldn't speak, his words coming out in choked gasps, his moans and cries spurring you on. "I-I can't- Oo-oh fuck-" he managed to stutter out, the words dying in his throat. "G-gonna.. mommy- m-mommy-" he cried, his voice cracking, a sob wracking his body as he struggled to form a coherent sentence. He was so close, his stomach tightening, the familiar heat pooling in the pit of his stomach. Your hands slid up the curve of his ass before a loud 'SMACK!' rang out, the slap echoing in the room, the stinging of his skin made Choso cry out, his back arching, his body quivering. You gripped his ass, giving the abused flesh a tight squeeze as your hips slammed into him with a practiced precision. "That's a good boy, cum for mommy, let go baby.. Show mommy how much you love her." you murmured, your thrusts becoming erratic as you allowed him to fall apart.

"T-Thank y-youuu mommy! F-fuck.. oh, fuck! G-gonna cum s-so fuck-fucking much! A-ah, ah!" his words slurred, his head spinning as his cock rubbed against the bedsheets, his body jerking violently, a hoarse scream leaving his lips as his cum coated the bedsheets below, ropes of his sticky essence spilling from the tip. "F-fu-fuck-k-k-" his body continued to jerk, his hips humping the bed, riding out his orgasm. Your hands were still on his ass, massaging the reddened flesh, your hips slowly coming to a stop. "There we go~ Look at that pretty cock, all spent and messy.." you whispered, leaning forward, your lips brushing his ear. "Did such a good job for me baby, I'm so proud of you.." you purred, planting a gentle kiss on the back of his neck, your lips trailing down the expanse of his back, the gentle touches soothing the trembling man beneath you.

You tried slipping out of him, the sudden friction making him moan softly, his body too tired and sensitive to do much else. "So.. so good mommy.." he managed to mumble out, his voice was hoarse, his throat sore, and his eyes heavy. He let out a soft whimper when you finally pulled out, his body slumping down onto the bed, his eyes closing as exhaustion took over. You untied the bindings, rubbing the raw skin, pressing a gentle kiss to his wrists, a soft smile gracing your features.

You carefully turned him over, his chest rising and falling steadily, a few strands of hair stuck to his face. You gently brushed the hair out of his face, leaning down and placing a chaste kiss on his forehead.

"Let's get you cleaned up, gorgeous.."

2K notes · View notes

willowbelle · 2 months

Text

Sous Chef

sanji & jealousy + possessiveness

per this request from my 500 follower event!

❤︎ sanji x fem reader ❤︎

༉‧₊˚✧ (nsfw, afab!reader, 18+ only) ༉‧₊˚✧

cw: teasing, jealousy, obsession, possessiveness, body worship, oral (f receiving) (sanji kneels to eat you out while you're standing), fingering, breast/nipple play, piv sex, unprotected sex, kitchen sex, counter sex, dirty talk, dom!sanji (but he also gets flustered a lot), use of "good girl" + "say my name"

summary: chef innuendos, sweet sanji to jealous sanji pipeline, reader is a huge tease ("i bet that swordsman could fuck me harder" type) reader really pushes sanji's buttons, sanji gets jealous, mentions of sanji being jealous of zoro, possessive sex ensues.

word count: ~5,000

tagging: @sanjisprincesswifey @bby-deerling @maddddstuff

Sous Chef

Sanji is an ardent lover; a devoted man, gentle and caring to the core. He's hellbent on making you his own and maintaining that bond, often expressing it through sweet gestures like gifting flowers, freshly-cooked meals, and handwritten love letters.

However, sometimes the gentle cook gets sloppy, and his tender demeanor falters, allowing his lustful yearnings to take the reins long before his kind heart can intervene.

He's quite susceptible to teasing, easily flustered by your sharp tongue and playful remarks, often hiding his flushed face behind his blonde bangs. His shy demeanor emboldens you, making you feel uncharacteristically confident. You frequently find yourself pushing boundaries, testing the waters to put his adoration to the test, seeing just how much you can get away with before his gentlemanly persona dissolves entirely.

You've never witnessed his possessive nature firsthand, but deep down, you're certain it lies within him. It must.

Today is one of those days; you're determined to draw it out.

————

You’re pushing his buttons, as you often do, and though you've become accustomed to him brushing it off, offering a sweet smile and an amused laugh, today, the tender chef seems… different.

Silently, he moves about the kitchen, his movements precise and deliberate, taking long drags of the cigarette that dangles from his lips as he works. The sizzle of oil, the rhythmic chop of vegetables, and the gentle simmer of sauce provide a soothing backdrop to his thoughts. Yet beneath the surface of his composed facade, jealousy prickles at his skin like tiny, agitated needles.

As he stirs the saucepan, his mind wanders to the image of you with that swordsman, sharing a moment he's not a part of. It gnaws at him, a subtle ache in his chest that refuses to be ignored. He tries to focus on the task at hand, on the symphony of flavors he's orchestrating, but the green-eyed monster coils tighter around his heart with each passing moment.

His movements become more brisk, more forceful, as if trying to exorcise the unwelcome emotions through sheer physical exertion. Yet, despite his best efforts, the simmering resentment refuses to be quelled. It taints the air in the kitchen, adding a bitter undertone to the aroma of spices and herbs.

And so, he continues to cook in silence, the smoke from his cigarette clouding his face, the clatter of utensils masking the turmoil within. He knows that until he can silence the jealousy that festers within him, his efforts will be in vain.

To an outsider, he appears calm, composed, his attention solely fixed on the task at hand. Yet, to you, the recipient of his affection, it's evident that something is amiss. There's a tension in his demeanor, a subtle urgency that belies his usual ease. He's unusually stiff, his movements hurried, and he nervously gnaws at his bottom lip—a stark departure from the fluid grace that typically characterizes his actions.

So, you aim to tease, yet again.

“Don't like me flirting with that swordsman, do ya, cook?”

It’s a playful jab, but one that’s sharp, piercing through the thin veil of his composure. It's innocuous on the surface, a needle, perhaps, but to him, it’s a dagger.

Sanji’s hands momentarily still, the utensil he holds clenched a little tighter. His jaw tenses, and a flicker of hurt flashes in his eyes before he quickly masks it with a forced smile. Inside, jealousy ignites like a sudden spark in the dark, consuming his thoughts and sending a surge of adrenaline coursing through his veins.

In that moment, the carefully constructed facade of calm shatters, revealing the turmoil within. Your words hang in the air, that damn nickname, a painful reminder of the insecurities that gnaw at his soul. He struggles to regain his composure, to push back the rising tide of jealousy threatening to overwhelm him.

But despite his efforts, a crack has formed in his chivalrous armor, and he knows that once unleashed, jealousy is a force that's hard to contain. With a forced laugh and a shaky exhale, he busies himself once more, hoping to drown out the tumultuous emotions that threaten to consume him whole.

“It doesn’t bother me, beautiful,” he murmurs, more so to reassure himself, “I know you’re all mine.”

“Are you sure, Sanji?” you press, casually leaning against the kitchen counter, idly twirling a strand of hair between your fingertips, a deliberate gesture intended to stir his interest. “I don’t know, Zoro’s really been grabbin’ my attention lately.”

Sanji continues to cook, the simmering jealousy within him only grows more pronounced, like a pot left unattended on a blazing stove. Each word that leaves your lips fuels the fire, each syllable stroking the flames of his insecurity. He reaches for another cigarette, his hands trembling slightly as he lights it, the flame flickering in the dimly lit kitchen. The smoke curls around him, a tangible manifestation of his inner conflicts, and he takes a long drag, hoping to find solace in its bitter embrace. He clings to his kind side, outwardly at least,

“A wonderful woman like you has many admirers, I bet.”

He smiles but grits his teeth, the cigarette dangling from his lips like a lifeline, a futile attempt to quell the storm raging within him. The scent of burning tobacco mingles with the aroma of spices and sauces, a bitter undertone to the dishes he’s preparing.

"He'd never love you the way I do," the chef mutters through clenched teeth.

The remark is so subdued that you almost question if you heard it, but the tight grip on his wooden spoon, stirring with such sudden intensity, confirms you’d heard him correctly.

A smirk tugs at your lips. He's jealous. Bingo.

“What’s that, cook?” you jab, “Did ya say somethin’?”

That nickname again, it slices at his heart. He’s been worn thin, and you’ve stretched him to his breaking point.

With a sharp exhale, Sanji stubs out his cigarette, the ember extinguished with finality.

Slowly, he turns to face you, the simmering jealousy that had been gnawing at him now burns brightly in his eyes, an unspoken challenge in their depths.

His movements are deliberate as he approaches, each step echoing with an air of quiet intensity. There's a newfound resolve in his demeanor, a steely determination to confront the source of his unease head-on.

As he stands before you, the tension in the room is palpable, thick with unspoken words and unresolved emotions. Yet, despite the storm raging within him, his voice is steady as he finally speaks, his words laced with a quiet authority that brooks no argument.

“I said,” he begins, “That moss-headed loser could never love you like I do, y/n,” he rasps, making you gulp dryly. His expression is authoritative but not unkind as he looks down at you.

For a moment, you’re at a loss for words, caught off guard by the unexpected intensity of his presence. It's a stark reminder that beneath his gentle exterior, lies a depth of strength and resolve you hadn't fully appreciated.

As you take in his determined expression, a flicker of admiration sparks within you mingling with the lingering shock. You realize that this is a side of him you’ve only glimpsed in passing, a facet of his character that demands your attention.

Despite the initial shock, the playful, devilish side of you creeps in once again, up your spine, taking root in your skull.

Leaning in close, your breath tickles his ear as your hand glides up his toned arm, coming to rest gently on his shoulder.

"I believe it's time you remind me who I belong to," you whisper, your voice laced with a playful yet provocative undertone.

The chef feels a tremor run through him, a reaction to the proximity of your touch and the suggestive tone of your voice. His muscles tense beneath your hand as it trails up his arm, a subtle yet undeniable gesture that sends a shiver down his spine.

Despite his efforts to maintain composure, he can feel the telltale flush creeping up his neck, coloring his cheeks with a rosy hue. It's a familiar sensation, one that often accompanies your playful advances, yet it never fails to catch him off guard.

His heart races in his chest, the rapid thud echoing in his ears as he struggles to find his voice amidst the whirlwind of emotions swirling within him. With a shaky exhale, he finally manages to muster a response, though it comes out as little more than a breathless murmur.

"Y-Yes, of course," he stammers, his words faltering as he meets your gaze. It's a vulnerable moment, one that exposes the depth of his feelings, and he can't help but feel a surge of both exhilaration and apprehension at the prospect of revealing his true desires.

But beneath the surface tremors and flustered facade lies a steadfast determination, a quiet resolve to seize the opportunity before him and lay claim to the love he knows is rightfully his. And as he gathers his courage, he silently vows to show you, once and for all, just how deeply you belong to him.

In an instant, he’s closing the distance, placing his hands on the countertop on either side of you as he crashes his lips onto yours.

His kiss is urgent, filled with a hunger that mirrors your own, and though his lips are slightly chapped and carry the faint taste of tobacco, you find yourself equally eager, reveling in the sensation of having him exactly where you wanted him—jealous and possessive.

You moan softly into his mouth as his gifted hands find their place on your waist, slender fingers softly digging into your warm skin.

Aiming to rile him up even more, you take the opportunity to take his bottom lip between your teeth, tugging softly on the tender flesh, earning a hearty moan from the man before you.

“Fuck,” he rasps, sliding his hands up your body to grasp at your tits, molding the clothed mounds in his soft hands as his hot tongue snakes its way into your awaiting mouth.

You mewl out at the sensation, a sound that excites the chef beyond belief. You wrap your arms around his neck as your tongues dance together, desperately attempting to get closer to him, to meld into one.

He pulls away, making you whine out at the loss. He pauses a moment, to gaze at you, your blushing face, heaving chest, it's almost too much to bear. He’s quick to connect your skin again, swiftly attaching his lips to the sensitive, untouched flesh of your neck. You whimper at the feeling of his hot lips on your body, the sensation is new and intoxicating, instantly causing goosebumps to bud all over your needy skin.

One of his hands slides up to gently hold your chin as he continues to kiss down the column of your neck, making you softly tilt your head back to give himself more access to your flesh.

“Good,” he rasps against your skin in between kisses, “Just like that, my love.”

The gesture is simple and gentle, but it exhilarates you, the chef is always kind with his touches, but tonight, he knows he’s in charge.

Weak, breathy moans and whines escape your lips as Sanji continues to kiss and nip down your neck, to your collarbones, then your chest. He pauses here, of course, taking his time with each breast. He’s devoted, tracing the contours of your body with reverent hands, his touch tender yet possessive, as if committing every curve and crevice to memory. He hooks his slender fingers beneath the hem of your shirt and shoots you a questioning glance. With your nod of approval, he lifts your shirt over your head slowly, savoring the way your curves are steadily revealed to him. His breath catches in his throat, and his heart pounds in his chest as he takes in the sight before him, drinking in every detail with hungry eyes.

“You’re beautiful,” Sanji whispers, awestricken.

Your cheeks flush a deep crimson at his words. While you've grown quite accustomed to this love-sick chef’s constant compliments on your beauty, this time feels different, as if his words carry a weight of sincerity and authenticity that pierces through his usual flattery.

His fingers linger over every inch of your skin, worshipping you with a fervor that borders on obsession. He revels in the warmth of your flesh beneath his fingertips, the way you respond to his touch with a soft sigh or a shiver of pleasure.

His hands are practiced and skilled, taking their time with your skin the same way he does preparing a plate. He carefully slides his hands up and down your bare torso, tracing your dips and curves with precision. His touches are slow and meticulous but they’re perfect, the right pressure in all the right spots. As if he’s taking his time selecting the finest ingredients, he takes in every aspect of you, savoring each nuance and subtlety.

He reaches around you, using just one skilled hand to unclasp your bra, letting it fall off your shoulders and down to the floor. You gasp softly at the sensation of the cool kitchen air hitting your bare chest, your nipples hardening instantly. He’s kind, picking your bra up off the floor and placing it on the counter before returning his attention back to you.

He waits for a moment, taking in the sight before him. His skin is hot and his cock aches in his ever-tightening pants, but he’s dedicated to pleasing you, determined to worship every inch of you before he lets himself get off. He leans down, hot breath against your hardened buds as he speaks,

“You’re so perfect, y/n,” he whispers against your skin before taking your nipple into his mouth, making you toss your head back and whine softly at the sensation. His mouth is hot around your cool skin, and his tongue is no different, melting you as it swirls slowly around the stiff bud.

“Oh, Sanji-” you whine, your hands flying down and finding themselves in his blonde locks, fingers lacing in the strands as he continues to suck on your breast.

“Mm,” he moans softly before pulling away, just momentarily, to return to your other breast, rewarding it with the same wonderful treatment.

As he sucks and licks at your breast, his hand grants the neglected one with attention, squeezing it softly, rolling and pinching your nipple in between his talented fingers.

The sensation is beyond pleasurable, allconsuming, even, and you feel your core aching for more, dampening your panties.

“Sanji,” you whine, making the chef pull away to look up at you, “I-I need more,” you beg, “Please.”

The man's cheeks flush with a surge of blood in response to your plea. He's taken aback, but undeniably aroused; what sort of man would he be to deny your desires?

“Say no more, my love,” Sanji purrs, instantly sinking to his knees in front of you.

His newfound position ignites something within you—a testament to his unwavering devotion, his fiery passion. As you gaze down at him, the man on his knees before you, ready to fulfill your every desire, it's a powerful reminder of his dedication to your pleasure. It makes heat tickle your skin and take root in your aching cunt, your body slightly trembling as it prepares itself to be pleased.

Sanji’s preparing, too, eyes wide and pupils blown with lust, his mouth watering as he awaits your taste. He loops his fingers beneath the waistband of your skirt before giving them a gentle tug, pulling the fabric down your thighs to pool at your feet.

Part of him wants to wait; oggle you for a moment, your trembling thighs, your slick crotch, but the other part of him, the determined side, overpowers this fleeting yearning, making him to instantly lean forward to plant a gentle, yet firm kiss to your clothed slit.

The sudden sensation causes you to throw your head back, eyes screwing shut as you tug at his strands.

“Mm, Sanji,” you whine, “Please, more.”

Despite his jealousy pangs, he's still a giver in every sense of the word; he knows his head is meant to be slotted between your trembling thighs. And so, he gives in to your pleas, looping a finger beneath the crotch of your soaked panties to tug them aside. He immediately leans forwards, planting another kiss, this time to your bare cunt.

“Fuck,” you inhale shakily, instinctively spreading your legs to give your lover more access to your intimate parts.

“Mmm,” he lets out a pleased noise at your eagerness, granting you with a long, wet stripe of his hot tongue to your needy slit.

“Fuck,” he rasps against your cunt, his words sending vibrations up your body, “Divine,” he groans, licking once more, “You taste divine.”

You moan again, needier this time, more breathless,

“That means a lot, coming from a chef,” you smirk playfully, earning an amused chuckle from the man between your legs.

Sanji continues his gentle assault, his skillful tongue moving up and down slowly from your aching clit to your needy hole, groaning in pleasure as he works.

Your limbs are shaking so you try to ground yourself, planting one palm firmly on the countertop while the other rests on Sanji’s head, your fingers tangled in his golden strands. As he continues to swipe his tongue along your slit, he takes one of your thighs into his hand, lifting your leg so you can rest your foot on his shoulder, allowing you take some weight off your feet, and in turn, allowing himself more access to your needy pussy.

“Fuck,” you moan in pleasure at the gesture, the newfound sensation of Sanji’s tongue stimulating new parts of your cunt making flames of pleasure lash at your skin.

He takes one more solid lick upwards before latching onto your clit, suckling skillfully on the pulsating nub.

“Sh-Shit-!” you curse, throwing your head back, tugging harder on the strands of hair between your fingers.

You instinctively open your thighs, desperate for more, knuckles growing white as your grip the countertop harder with each suck to your clit.

When you open up for him, he brings his dominant hand up, gathering your essence on the tips of his middle and ring fingers before slowly pushing them inside you.

You let out a weak whimper as he pushes his digits inside you, grinding your hips against them.

“Fuck, Sanji-!”

The pace at which he’s suckling on your clit never falters as he begins pumping his slender fingers inside you. They’re gifted things, perfecting cuisine for years, now deep inside you, pulling you further towards your orgasm with each pump and curl.

He curls his fingers with each pass to hit your sweet spot, stars dancing beneath your eyelids as you feel yourself starting to become deliciously overstimulated.

He’s just as desperate as you, sensing you’re close, he begins sucking on your swollen clit more feverishly, pumping his fingers in and out of you with a heightened intensity, hellbent on getting you off, to make you gush on his tongue, to allow him to taste everything you have to give him.

It pays off, and suddenly, you’re a trembling mess, shaking beneath his touch, struggling to hold yourself upright as he maintains his sinful efforts.

“Sanji,” you mewl breathlessly, chest heaving up and down as you struggle to maintain your composure, “I-I’m so close-”

Your words hold sway over this eager man, and he redoubles his efforts to please you, relentlessly pumping his fingers in and out of your throbbing opening, groaning softly against your clit as he continues to suck on it.

Pleasure washes over your instantaneously, making your limbs feel numb and tingly, your orgasm hitting you harshly, white and hot, overpowering, head-spinning.

“Sanji-!” you let out a loud moan, voice trembling as your peak rushes over you.

“That’s it, my love,” he purrs, “Give me all you’ve got”

He laps up everything you’ve given him, as if it was his lifeline, your essence clinging to his chin as he rises to his feet.

Your face is red and flushed, mouth hanging slack as you gasp for air, but before you even have time to catch your breath, the chef’s lips are on yours again. His tongue is rougher this time, more needy, you can tell he’s aching, aching for more.

“Sanji-” you whine needily into his mouth, “Sh-Show me,” you let out a shaky breath, “Show me who I belong to.”

And just like that, you feel the gentle tug of a smirk on your lover’s lips as they’re pressed against yours.

He pulls away slowly, something different in his eyes as he looks down at you.

With deliberate movements, Sanji’s hands glide over the fabric of his suit jacket, his fingers deftly working the buttons until the garment slips from his shoulders, pooling at his feet. Each motion is executed with a sense of purpose, as if shedding the outer layers of his attire is a symbolic gesture, a stripping away of the barriers between him and the object of his desire.

Beneath the jacket, his white dress shirt clings to his skin, hinting at the contours of his lean, muscular frame beneath the fabric. With practiced ease, his eyes never leaving yours, he unfastens the buttons one by one, revealing slivers of bare chest with each exposed inch.

Your breath hitches in your throat as the intricate details of his body are revealed to you; he’s thin, but toned, skin pale and smooth, untouched by the sun. He’s beautiful.

He stands before you, exposed and vulnerable, yet radiating a quiet confidence. There's a rawness to his demeanor; he’s willing to do whatever it takes to prove his devotion to you, to show you who you belong to.

He moves forward again, pressing his soft lips to yours as he slowly busies his hands with his belt buckle.

With each swirl of his tongue around yours, he makes progress with his belt, eventually removing it entirely, placing it on the counter next to you.

Soon enough, he’s sliding his pants down his legs, boxers too, making you gasp slightly into his mouth as his cock is revealed. It’s lengthy and slender, pretty, even, tip flushed a rosy pink and weeping precum.

You breathe shakily into his mouth, placing your hands on either of his toned shoulders, grounding yourself, “Please, Sanji,” you whine.

A smirk tugs at the chef’s lips as he obeys your plea, gently lifting you up to make you sit on the counter. He takes one of your legs and lifts it up, making it bend at the knee, your ankle resting on his shoulder.

Your face flushes at the lewdness of the situation, testing your flexibility as you sit nude on the kitchen counter, leg dangling over the chef’s shoulder.

Sanji lets out a shaky exhale as he takes his throbbing cock in his free hand, bringing his hips forwards to align himself with your entrance.

He shoots you a tender glance, “Are you ready, beautiful girl?” the kind man asks softly.

Locking your eyes with his, you nod, offering a soft smile,

“Ready,” you lean forwards, whispering against his warm chest as you prepare yourself for the intrusion.

Sanji slowly begins swiping his leaking, rosy tip up and down your needy cunt, making you moan softly against his flesh.

He brings his tip downwards to gently prod at your opening before pressing in, hissing through gritted teeth at the tightness of your walls sucking him in.

“Fuck, my love,” he rasps, his grip tightening on your leg as he continues to press in.

“M-Mmm, S-Sanji-” you moan shakily stumbling over your words as you slowly become accustomed to the stretch.

You reach around to dig your nails down his toned back as he finally bottoms out, making the two of you moan in-sync.

You both chuckle softly at the symphony, and Sanji begins, bringing his lean hips back to thrust into you slowly, carefully.

In an instant, he’s filling you entirely, the tip of his length cock coming forward to brush against your g-spot with each pass, making your skin tingle with pleasure.

“Fuck, Sanji,” you curse, nails raking down his back as he fucks you tenderly.

He’s groaning, face flushed red and chest heaving up and down as he gazes down at you, astounded by your body as his cock stuffs you full.

He’s gentle, petrified of hurting you, so he continues as he is, softly and carefully, bringing his free hand down to rub gentle circles against your aching clit.

In the same way a this chef meticulously crafts a culinary masterpiece, he approaches making love to you with a similar intensity, his obsession akin to the creation of a tantalizing dish.

The position you're in--your leg still up on his shoulder-- allows him to get as deep as possible, and although the sensation is welcomed, it’s simply not enough.

You want this gentle man to rail you, to make you come undone beneath him as a result of his skilled cock and brutal thrusts.

And you know just how to make that happen.

You lean forward to whisper against his chest in between moans,

“I wonder if you can fuck me harder than that swordsman could”

And just like that, something changes inside Sanji--a switch flips, a flame ignites-- soft, gentle Sanji retreats, and something new emerges from within him, just like you wanted.

In an instant, he brings his hips back to grant you with a particularly brutal, harsh thrust. His cock slams into you, battering your walls. The sudden intrusion makes you throw you head back and let out a weak squeal, but his pace only increases, thrusting in and out of you with a newfound brashness, his tip bullying your cervix relentlessly with each pass.

He’s brutal, strong, groaning through gritted teeth as he gazes down at you, watching you take his cock over and over and over again, tilting his gaze downwards to watch as your cunt greedily accepts every inch.

“Fuck you harder than this?” he groans, letting out an amused tsk as he continues, the lewd sounds of your skin slapping together harshly dismissing all other noises in the kitchen.

“Fuck, Sanji-!” you whine, screwing your eyes shut as sparks erupt beneath your lids. It’s almost too much, but you asked for it.

“That’s right,” the chef groans, “Say my name”

Your face flushes a darker rouge at the lewdness of his words, you had never heard him speak like this before-- hell, you didn’t even know he was capable.

Your chest is heaving and your mouth and tongue are hanging slack, and your strands of hair sticking to your forehead from your sweat as you take his harsh thrusts, mind flooded with only visions of this sinful chef and his gifted hips.

“Say it,” he groans again, picking up his pace once more, pounding into you mercilessly, now, “I wanna hear it from your mouth,” he rasps, “Say you’re all mine”

Through weak moans and heavy breaths you oblige, your head growing numb as the chef brutally rails you, “Sanji-!” you cry out, “I’m all yours, S-Sanji!”

A smirk tugs at his lips and his grasp tightens on your raised leg as he continues, still rubbing tight circles into your clit as his cock abuses your walls.

“Sanji, Sanji, Sanji-” you whimper, his name falling from your slack mouth like a needy prayer, in time with each of his thrusts.

“That’s it,” he groans smugly, “Don’t forget that name, y/n,”

“You belong to me.”

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crushmeeren · 4 months

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Everyone in this work of fiction is aged up/18+, if that bothers you—block me or keep scrolling

One Shot? NSFW Headcannons? Both.

Warnings; yandere Yuuta vibes, cursing, possessive & obsessive behavior, violent threats (Yuuta threatens to snap somebody’s fingers), rough sex, biting, breath play, dirty talk, light smacking, reader getting stuffed

••••••

Yuuta who loves you wholeheartedly yet…painfully. Obsessively. More than obsession. Whose heart beats cruelly for you. Thumping in such a rhythm he’s sure it’s in tune with the pronunciation of your name. His love for you devours him completely—and he’s high on the way you love him.

Yuuta who lets you be privy to all the dark, depraved thoughts that seem to constantly rattle through his brain.

Yuuta who aches when he has to be apart from you. Who would crawl inside your skin if he could. Who tells you so often. (your feelings are mutual)

Yuuta who takes you out bar hopping on occasion. Who gets a thrill showing off what’s his. Whose gaze is intense as he watches another below average man attempt to dance with you, his arm brushing your wrist. Who gets a sick sort pleasure curling in his chest as he takes note of the bitchy expression on your face when you shut him down.

Yuuta who throws back a shot easily. Who saunters over from his spot at the bar. Who approaches you casually, hands tucked away in his pockets, curled into fists. Whose lips are pulled into a sweet grin, sleepy eyes flitting between you and below average Joe.

Yuuta whose entirely fake calm demeanor forces a cold thrill to shiver down your spine, because you know the beast that lurks just beneath. Who makes your blood thrum as he leans into the man’s face, lazy smile never faltering when he speaks.

Yuuta who you know has a boiling rage licking in between his rib cage when he threatens the man with a serene voice. Your hair stands on end when Yuuta’s posture drops the temperature around you by a few degrees. Who tells the stranger in a voice that rivals the Antarctic, I’ll snap your fucking fingers one by one if you ever touch what’s mine again. (your heart’s in your throat. you need Yuuta to take you home. now.)

Yuuta who studies the man’s face as it pales, as he turns, running with his tail tucked between his legs. Yuuta who then turns to you, smile so sweet your teeth ache.

Yuuta who lets his fingers grip your wrist too tightly. Forcing your finger tips to pulsate from lack of blood flow as he drags you out the bar & to your home. (The anticipatory butterflies knock around your belly because you know he’s gonna remind you who you belong too—you can’t fucking wait)

Yuuta who lets the tension in the air thicken to the point of suffocating. Who whistles a bright tune as he walks leisurely to your bedroom—giving you chills at how eerie it is. Who lets you follow behind before he’s slamming the door hard enough to rock the foundation.

Yuuta who slams you up against the door, your skull knocking into the wood. Pain radiating down to your neck. Whose finger tips dig harshly into the muscle of your jaw as he forces it to stay shut.

Yuuta whose face flattens into an expression you’ve only ever seen on sociopaths. Whose sanpaku eyes look empty, but you know he’s livid on the inside.

Yuuta who invades your personal space, making your teeth creak in his grasp. Who murmurs low & rough you wanted to watch me break that fuckers arm didn’t you baby? You can only whine in agreement, body flushing hotly.

Yuuta who hums in acknowledgment. Who gives you a pretty smile because he knows you’re just as twisted as he is. Who coos you only have to ask, my heart—I’ll slice anyone in half if you so desire. You know how much I love you.

Yuuta who lets go of your jaw, kissing you eagerly, teeth knocking yours. Whose lips are hot, slick but ultimately soft when they meet yours again & again. Who moans beautifully into your mouth, tongue playing sweetly with yours.

Yuuta who then bites down on your warm tongue—hard enough to make you bleed. Who grins, giggling into your kiss when you sink your own teeth into his lower lip just as brutally. Pulling on it. Releasing it with a wet pop.

Yuuta who strips you both bare. Whose cock is already achingly hard as he forces you onto your back on the bed. Who places a warm palm in the middle of your sternum, roughly pinning you to the mattress. Who admires the way your tits gently bounce whenever you squirm under his grip.

Yuuta who pushes two fingers into your mouth, purring at you to suck them like you’re sucking my cock baby. Who groans softly when you do just as you’re told. Who rips his fingers from your mouth—sinking his canines into the flesh of your shoulder & gripping your tits. Who lets his shaft spread the lips of your slick pussy, rolling his hips—never letting his teeth free of your shoulder.

Yuuta who listens to you whimper & choke on your moans, whining Yuuta, please my love—nngh, want you to fuck me! Who finally releases his bite, who stares down at you with a reassuring half smile—who then smacks you across the cheek hard enough to whip your head to one side, making you yelp. Who knows you love when he treats you this way.

Yuuta who is still too pissed off about earlier, not wasting any more energy on foreplay tonight. Who knows your pussy drools for him anyways as he bends to your whim—even if he tries not to show it.

Yuuta who sits back on his heels. Who presses just the tip inside your warm, silky pussy—already trying to swallow his cock entirely. Who listens to your soft cries of pleasure & fills you completely with no hesitation, no resistance. Who moans with you when his balls are snug against your ass.

Yuuta whose eyes flutter shut as he grips your ankle, pulling one leg over his shoulder. Who bends forward, splitting you open over & over as he fucks you harshly from the beginning. Who revels in the wet hiccups & whines you’re gifting him. Pleading just like—oh fuck! fuck yes Yuuta, right there, please make me cum!

Yuuta who laughs humorlessly, cock pulsing when your sweet voice begs for him. Who purposely lets his tip kiss your cervix repeatedly. Whose tone is so mean when he speaks oh? you wanna cum? then you better fucking cum hard on my cock. your pussy is all for me, my heart. I own you—don’t forget it.

Yuuta who braces a hand on the bed, bending you further in half. Who uses the large palm of his free hand to encase your mouth & nose, cutting off your air. Who tilts his hips just right, taunting you—mm if you don’t wanna pass out, you better cum quickly for me. Who chomps down on his lower lip while he gazes at your face, eyes eternally sleepy. Who loves the feel of your nails sinking into his forearms.

Yuuta who feels his balls tighten up when your back arches off the bed, writhing because you can’t breathe. Who can feel your pussy starting to flutter as your eyes roll back in your head. Who snarls god, you’re gonna cum aren’t you? looks like you’re running out of air, but who isn’t fairing any better. Whose cheeks are bright red, who’s huffing as he thrusts, who has sweat trailing down his temple.

Yuuta who inhales sharply through his teeth as your pussy gets unbearably tight, who immediately allows you to breathe as soon as you start to cum, suffocating his cock in the best kind of way. Who makes you dizzy with the intensity of your orgasm as your lungs burn for air.

Yuuta who does a 180. Mouth falling open, eyebrows scrunching. Mean streak disappearing completely. Who lets out a sweet moan as he lets your leg down, smothering his face in your neck. Whose breath hitches, whining fuck—ah, I’m gonna cum baby. Whose cock twitches as he starts to climax, shallowly thrusting, stuffing you full with sticky ribbons of his release.

Yuuta who chants, I love you baby, love you so goddamn much. I’ll do anything for you, my heart. Who pants hotly against your skin as he goes limp, snaking his arms underneath you in a tight hug.

Yuuta who all but purrs as your nails scratch soothingly over his scalp, sending shivers down his spine. Who feels warm & pleasantly gooey when you coo at him, whispering his praises & how much you love him into his ear as you lay intertwined.

Yuuta who takes care of you afterwards, cleaning you up, rubbing your back and hugging you close under the blankets. Who tells you how good you were for him, what a sweet girl you are. Whispering he loves you at least a thousand times. Who turns you around to be his little spoon, molding his body to the back of yours. Who slips an arm around your waist, forehead pressed against your back.

Yuuta who loves you an unhealthy amount. Who’s menacing, insane—unbelievably loving. But it’s all okay with you, you’re just as obsessed as he is.

#yuta okkotsu smut #yuuta okkotsu smut #yuuta x reader #yuta x reader #yuuta okkotsu x reader #yuuta smut #yuta smut #yuta okkotsu x reader #yuuta headcanons #yuta headcanons #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk headcanons #jjk yuuta #yandere yuta

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pinchofhoney · 7 months

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broken promises, part one

part one | part two | part three »

coriolanus snow x fem!reader

word count: 1.8k

warning: none

summary: In Snow's world, only one thing mattered more than his family's reputation—you. But that was before he met Lucy Gray.

a/n: coryo is the type of person i sincerely hate and i'm glad that there are no such arrogant people in my life, who think they are better than others and who in crisis situations only care about themselves and to save their own arse. but at the same time i'm aware that young snow could be someone i'd catch a crush on at school. so why shouldn't i hate him even more?

pages that may interest you: masterlist ♡ taglist ♡ who i write for

taglist: you told me to tag you everywhere, so i'm back to doing it again; @wolfmoonmusic

gif is not mine, credit to the owner

The problem with snow is its tendency to melt, mirroring the way we once thought our feelings would endure forever. Yet, shouldn't emotions, particularly those nestled in our hearts, last longer?

You had known Coriolanus since childhood, and your families had always been close. You had grown up together, surviving the hardships of the war-torn Capitol side by side, and now, in the post-war era, you were still inseparable. There was an unspoken understanding between the two of you going above a simple friendship. Your connection ran deep, like the roots of the oldest trees in the Panem's forests.

Coriolanus was an intriguing character, a puzzle you had been solving together since you were children. He was the embodiment of Capitol charm, with his perfectly tailored suits, polished manners, and charismatic smile that could sway even the most skeptical of Capitol elites. But you knew that beneath that carefully constructed facade was a mind as sharp as a blade and a heart that carried the weight of his family's fallen reputation.

Yet, when he was with you, it was as if a different side of him emerged. The hard lines on his face softened, and his icy demeanor melted away. With you, he could be himself, unburdened by the expectations of Capitol society. It was a rare glimpse into the man behind the mask, and you cherished those moments even more than your favorite jasmine tea and the cat you found shortly after the war had ended.

You couldn't help but admire his intelligence, his quick wit, and his relentless determination to succeed in a world that often seemed stacked against him. His family's name might have been tarnished, but Coriolanus was determined to reclaim their lost glory. He was driven by a burning ambition that flickered like an eternal flame, and you were his unwavering support, the one who fanned that flame to keep it burning bright.

In your eyes, he was more than the sum of his flaws and ambitions. He was the boy you had shared secrets with under moonlit skies, the man who had held you when the world crumbled around you, and the person who knew you better than anyone else. With him, you felt safe, cherished, and loved in a way that no one else could replicate.

Your love for him was boundless, and you were content in the knowledge that you were his confidante, the one person he could be truly vulnerable with. Your relationship with Coriolanus was the envy of many in academy, a seemingly perfect match of two souls intertwined by fate and affection. You were the golden couple, a shining example of love and devotion in a world that often lacked both.

But you wished you had known sooner that it's often the things we love most that destroy us, as Coriolanus Snow's world was about to collide with that of a girl named Lucy Gray and you were not ready for it to happen.

As the day of the tribute's arrival approached, you had been by Coriolanus's side more than ever. The weeks leading up to this moment had been filled with your unwavering support. You had reassured him countless times, sitting together in your cozy bedroom, his head resting gently on your thighs while you combed your fingers through his soft blonde curls. It was a calming gesture, one that had become a comforting routine. You listened to his concerns, his fears, and his ambitions, and you were sure that everything would be fine, that he would be just perfect as a mentor, and that his scholarship and dreams of continuing his studies at the university were within reach.

Your words were like a soothing melody to him, a reminder that he wasn't alone in this daunting new role. He would look into your eyes with his cold ones, filled with gratitude, and you could see the weight lifting from his shoulders, if only temporarily. And in those moments, you felt like his anchor, the one who kept him grounded amid the chaos of his own thoughts.

Now, you both stood at the nearly deserted train station, the oppressive heat of the day hanging heavily in the air. The scorching sun beat down relentlessly, casting shimmering waves of heat across the empty platform. It seemed that most of the Capitol's citizens had chosen to stay indoors, seeking refuge from the sweltering weather.

The only other souls present were a handful of stoic peacekeepers, their pristine white uniforms stark against the dull backdrop of the station. The silence was broken only by the distant hum of the city beyond, a reminder of the bustling Capitol life that lay just outside the station's borders.

Coriolanus tightly held a single white rose plucked from his grandmother's garden, a symbol of his intent to make a lasting impression on his tribute. It was a stark contrast to the vibrant colors of your academy uniforms. The simplicity of the white rose spoke of his sincerity and dedication to this new role as mentor.

With no clear timetable for the tribute train's arrival, the two of you stood patiently, pretending that the day's weather didn't bother you, the weight of uncertainty hanging over you like a heavy cloud. Coriolanus shifted his gaze between the tracks and the single white bloom in his hand.

You observed him closely, and when his gaze finally met yours, you offered a reassuring smile. “Remember, Coryo,” you murmured, “no matter what, you'll be the mentor she needs; your sincerity and kindness will shine through.”

“I hope you're right, Y/N,” he replied softly, his voice filled with a hint of doubt. “I need her to survive on the arena as long as she can,” he added, as if the idea of a group of vulnerable youths engaging in brutal competition in just a few days were the most ordinary occurrence in the world.

But that was precisely what it represented for the Capitol residents – the Hunger Games, an annual spectacle of entertainment.

Time seemed to stretch endlessly under the unrelenting sun, and the station remained eerily devoid of any signs of life. It felt as though hours had passed, but in truth, you couldn't be sure. Beads of perspiration formed on your brows, and you could feel the heat radiating from the platform's surface.

You and Coriolanus were on the verge of giving up and returning to the cool embrace of your penthouses when, at long last, the distant rumble of an oncoming train reached your ears. The sound grew steadily louder, and you looked at each other, exchanging tired glances.

Coriolanus's grip on the white rose tightened as he turned his gaze towards the approaching train. As he rose from the bench where you had sat, his anticipation peaked. You stood beside him, wanting to be his support, but you had no idea that your role was about to change very soon.

The train pulled into the station with a hiss of steam and the screech of brakes, billowing clouds of moisture and smoke into the scorching air. The two of you watched the machine in silent, your heart pounding in your chest. This was the moment when you would come face to face with people from the Districts, individuals whose lives were so far removed from the opulence and extravagance of your own. It was a rare and humbling experience, one that left you with a slight quiver in your step as you clung to Coriolanus, seeking solace in his reassuring presence.

For what felt like an eternity, nothing happened. The train's doors remained sealed shut, as if holding its cargo of tributes in a reluctant embrace. The only thing that reached you was an unpleasant stench wafting from the carriages, a stark reminder of the grim reality that these young souls were about to face.

Finally the impatient peacekeepers took matters into their own hands. They descended upon the train, their authoritative presence enough to scare the tributes out of their temporary sanctuary. One by one, they were herded onto the platform, their expressions ranging from fear to defiance.

And then, your eyes locked onto a figure unlike the others. A girl stood there, her presence a stark contrast to the muted palettes of others tributes. She wore a rainbow-colored dress that shimmered with vibrancy, a flare of color and individuality amidst the sea of old attire. You recognized her immediately from the television screens, a girl whose name had already become a part of your daily life even before this encounter.

Lucy Gray Baird.

The very name whispered in the hushed tones of Capitol citizens as they watched her on the screens, intrigued and fascinated by her enigmatic presence from the Reaping. Her gaze swept across the platform, and for a brief moment, your eyes locked onto each other's.

You couldn't help but break into a warm, welcoming smile. With a cheerful wave of your hand, you signaled to her that both you and Coriolanus were eagerly awaiting her arrival, hoping to ease the initial tension of this life-altering moment.

Lucy Gray's response was a hesitant yet appreciative smile in return. Her steps were slow and cautious as she walked slowly toward you, a palpable sense of curiosity radiated from her, her eyes flitting between the unfamiliar faces that lined the platform.

Your gaze briefly shifted to Coriolanus, a subtle expectation in your heart that his eyes would mirror the warmth you felt. But when you looked at him, you noticed something different. It was as if his eyes were magnetically drawn to Lucy Gray, locked onto her with a nearly unwavering intensity that bordered on fixation. Those eyes, usually so sharp and calculating, now held an expression you had never quite seen before. It was as though he had stumbled upon a priceless museum exhibit, left captivated, awestruck, and undeniably intrigued.

A soft, knowing smile played at the corners of your lips, silently acknowledging his reaction to the girl before you. You gently squeezed his hand, a gesture of affection and solidarity. You understood that this moment bore immense significance for him, that he was on the corner of a journey filled with unforeseen challenges. Lucy Gray was the keynote of this new chapter in his life, and you couldn't help but admire her from a distance, captivated by her unique presence and the aura that surrounded her.

Before you could utter a word, Coriolanus took a determined step forward, his eyes still locked on the girl. He extended his hand, offering her the pristine white rose he had clutched throughout the wait and with a subtle nod, he greeted her in a tone that resonated with formality and welcome.

“Welcome to the Capitol.”

part two »

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hoshifighting · 2 months

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"S" on My Chest, 'Cause I'm Ready to Save Him

Synopsis: Amidst the chaos of your world, you found Seungcheol, a man with gummy smile who melted the icy walls around your heart. But just when things were heating up between you two… You find out he's from a rival mafia, all thanks to a tattoo on his back. And you have to protect him.

Warnings: Smut, angst, mafia, oral (f. receiving), pussy slapping, unprotected sex, begging, manhandling, penetrative sex, dirty talk, lies, crying, threat of suicide, violence, organized crime, betrayal and etc.

Word Count: 7.1k

Reader! Mafia X Seungcheol! Enemy Mafia

You, the underboss of a powerful mafia syndicate. Born into a legacy of organized crime, you inherited the reins of power from your father, stepping into a world where loyalty was currency, and trust was a rare gem amidst the sea of deceit.

For years, you navigated the treacherous waters of the underworld with precision and cunning, your focus solely on the tasks at hand, your heart shielded behind walls of steel. Love was a concept long forgotten, buried beneath layers of duty and obligation. You had grown so selective, so cautious, that even the notion of such an emotion seemed foreign, a distant memory fading into the abyss of your past.

But fate, it seemed, had other plans.

Enter Seungcheol - a beacon of light in the darkness, his presence like a breath of fresh air in the smoky haze of your existence. With his dark locks and a gummy smile that could melt even the iciest of hearts, he sauntered into your life like a whirlwind, disrupting the carefully constructed walls you had built around yourself.

At first, he was just a familiar face at your favorite bar, a friendly ear amidst the chaos of your world. He listened to your frustrations with genuine interest, his empathy a balm to your weary soul. Slowly but surely, he wormed his way into your life, becoming not just a friend, but a confidant, a pillar of support in a world where trust was a rare commodity.

Before you knew it, Seungcheol had captured your heart a year ago, his unwavering devotion breaking down the barriers you had so meticulously erected. He showered you with affection, his gestures grand and heartfelt - bouquets of flowers that filled your home with their sweet fragrance, extravagant dinners where laughter flowed freely, and nights filled with excitement and passion.

[...]

As Seungcheol's hips moved with effortless rhythm, igniting waves of pleasure that coursed through your body, you clung to him desperately, as if afraid he might slip away into the night. Your arms wrapped tightly around him, pulling him closer, your heart pounding in sync with his as your chests pressed together in a passionate embrace.

Locked in each other's gaze, your eyes spoke volumes, conveying a depth of emotion that words could never capture. And as the pleasure surged through you like a tidal wave, you couldn't help but moan his name over and over again, each syllable a fervent prayer on your lips.

In the midst of ecstasy, Seungcheol's voice, husky and filled with desire, intertwined with yours in a seductive dance of words.

"You like that, don't you?" he whispered, his breath hot against your ear as he trailed kisses along your neck. "You love it when I make you feel this good."

His words sent shivers down your spine, your body responding eagerly to his touch as he continued to tease and tantalize you with his dirty talk.

"Tell me how much you want it," he murmured, his voice low and commanding. "Tell me how badly you want to cum."

Your breath hitched in your throat, your words tumbling out in a fevered rush as you surrendered to the pleasure he offered.

"I need you" you gasped, your voice raw with desire. "I need you to make me yours, to make me cum until I can't think of anything else but you."

As Seungcheol continued his relentless assault on your senses, driving you to the brink of oblivion, your body responded with fervor, your walls clenching around him in a powerful crescendo of pleasure. Lost in your orgasm, you could feel the sheets beneath you grow damp with the evidence of your cum.

His hips stuttered against yours, his movements becoming erratic as he chased his own release, his face buried in the crook of your neck as he sought solace in your embrace. In that moment of pure bliss, there were no words, no thoughts, only the raw, primal connection between you and him, binding you together in an unbreakable bond of desire and need.

As you slipped out of bed to freshen up in the bathroom, leaving Seungcheol to bask in the warmth of the sheets, you couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment wash over you. Despite the chaos of your life outside these walls, here, in this moment, everything felt right.

As you returned to the room, your heart fluttered with anticipation, eager to reunite with Seungcheol after your brief absence. But as your eyes fell upon his form, lying face down on the bed, a smile playing on his lips, your breath caught in your throat.

Something was different.

With hesitant steps, you approached him, the smile on your face faltering as you noticed the new addition to his soft skin - a tattoo etched into his flesh, unmistakably belonging to your rival mafia. Your blood ran cold, a shiver coursing through your entire being as the implications of his inked allegiance sank in.

Tentatively, you reached out to touch his back, your fingers tracing the lines of the tattoo with a mixture of disbelief and dread. Every instinct screamed at you to run, to flee from the danger that now lay before you, but you were rooted to the spot, unable to tear your eyes away from the damning mark.

Seungcheol's smile faded as he caught sight of your expression, confusion flickering in his eyes before realization dawned. He rose from the bed, his movements slow and cautious, as if afraid to startle a wild animal.

"Y/N, what's wrong?" he asked, his voice tinged with concern as he reached out to you, his hand outstretched in a gesture of comfort.

But you flinched away, your entire body trembling with fear and uncertainty. How could you have been so blind, so naive to trust someone who bore the mark of your enemy?

"I... I didn't mean for you to find out like this," he said softly, his gaze never leaving yours. "But please, you have to believe me. I'm not who you think I am. I love you, and I would never betray you."

"You knew... you knew who I was all this time..." you breathed out, your voice trembling with a mixture of shock and betrayal. Stepping back, you instinctively wrapped your arms around yourself, feeling exposed in a way that Seungcheol had never made you feel before.

As he took a step closer, his expression fraught with concern, you couldn't help but recoil, the weight of his deception heavy upon your shoulders.

But Seungcheol shook his head vigorously, his eyes filled with sorrow as he attempted to calm the storm brewing within you. "No, Y/N, I didn't know at first" he pleaded, his voice cracking. "I swear, I only found out after we were already together."

Your mind raced, trying to reconcile his words with the truth that now lay bare before you. Could you believe him? Your job was no longer to play with dolls in beautiful pink dresses, in which they found her dream prince. Now, any relationship you get involved in would have its consequences.

Feeling vulnerable and exposed, you hugged yourself tighter, your gaze locked with his as you searched for any hint of deceit. But all you found was genuine remorse and a desperate sincerity that tugged at your heartstrings.

Tears welled up in your eyes, finally breaking free in a choked sob as you hastily reached for your clothes, your hands trembling. Seungcheol felt the desperation pulsing through his veins, his heart breaking at the sight of your pain.

He reached out to touch your arm, a gesture of comfort born out of instinct, but you flinched away, your voice trembling as you pleaded with him to refrain. "Please... don't touch me." you whispered, your words a knife to his heart as you recoiled from his touch.

Seungcheol's hand fell limply to his side, the weight of your rejection crushing him with its intensity. You had always craved his touch, sought out his warmth and affection with a hunger that matched his own, and now to see you pull away from him like this was more than he could bear.

"I'm sorry" he whispered, his voice thick with emotion as tears began to trail down his cheeks, mirroring the pain in your eyes. "I'm so sorry, Y/N. I never meant to hurt you."

You continued to dress yourself in silence.

With a heavy heart, he watched as you prepared to leave, the realization dawning on him that he may never see you again. The thought was like a dagger to his soul, piercing him with a pain that cut deeper than any blade.

"I love you," he whispered hoarsely, his voice barely above a whisper as he reached out to you one last time, his eyes pleading for forgiveness. "Please... don't go."

But as you turned away, the tears in your eyes reflecting the agony in his own, Seungcheol knew that it was too late. The damage had been done.

Breathless and heartbroken, you dashed through the empty streets, the sound of your own footsteps echoing in the stillness of the night. Each stride felt like a dagger to your soul, the weight of betrayal heavy on your shoulders as you raced towards your home.

Arriving at last, you wasted no time in summoning your most trusted hacking team, their expertise your only hope in unraveling the truth of Seungcheol's identity. With trembling hands, you guided them through the labyrinth of digital defenses, your heart pounding in your chest as you awaited the results.

And then, there it was - displayed on the screen in stark black and white, irrefutable evidence of Seungcheol's treachery. Not only did he belong to your rival mafia, but he was the very owner, the puppet master pulling the strings behind the scenes.

As the days passed, you heard a distant conversation between your dad and his henchmen. About this gang, the name matching the tattoo of the person you loved the most. The plan would be to meet the leader in an empty warehouse near one of the least busy streets in the metropolis. And that was enough for you to not even want to hear the rest.

You were going against your own laws, days passed after the incident. But his death was the last thing you wanted. And you knew what your dad was capable of.

Seungcheol's attempts to reach out to you came in waves, a relentless barrage of emails, messages, and calls that served as a constant reminder of the love you craved every day. Despite your best efforts to block him out, he persisted, his promises of redemption and declarations of undying love echoing in your ears like a haunting melody.

Despite the pain that still lingered within you, you knew that you had to push forward, to be the strong, capable woman that your role in the mafia required you to be.

With each calculated move, each careful step, you reaffirmed your commitment to your role within the organization, knowing that nothing could repair the wounds that had been inflicted upon your heart. But even as you buried yourself in your work, the memory of Seungcheol being in danger lingered in the recesses of your mind.

[...]

As you walked with a heavy heart, a gun gripped tightly in your trembling hand, you knew that you were treading dangerous ground. Your father had warned you countless times to steer clear of this mission, but the nagging feeling in your gut told you that you couldn't ignore it - not when the safety of someone so dear to you hung in the balance.

The air was thick with tension as you prowled through the dimly lit alleyways, your senses on high alert as you navigated the maze of crumbling buildings and shadowed corners. The mission weighed heavily on your mind, the stakes higher than ever as you ventured deeper into enemy territory.

And yet, despite the pain, you remained focused on the task at hand, determined to see it through to the end.

Entering in a big empty shed, suddenly, the sound of footsteps echoed through the empty place, alerting you to the presence of another. Instinctively, you reached for the gun tucked at your waist, your muscles tensing as you prepared for a confrontation.

And then, he stepped into view - Seungcheol, his eyes widening in surprise as he locked gazes with you, the shock evident on his face. "Y/N, this is dangerous shit. What are you doing here?"

"What is it? Didn't you already know this was my job?" Your damn pride now decided to speak louder.

"Y/N, please... you have to listen to me" he pleaded, his hands raised in a gesture of surrender.

"Tell me why I should trust you," you demanded, your voice laced with anger and hurt. "After you've hidden everything, why should I believe a single word that comes out of your mouth?"

"I knew... I knew about your identity," he admitted, his voice strained with regret as he looked at you with eyes filled with pain. "But I didn't know from the beginning. I swear, Y/N, I didn't."

His words hung heavy in the air between you, a silent admission of guilt and regret that echoed in the depths of your soul. And as he continued to speak, his voice raw with emotion, you couldn't help but listen, despite the chaos that raged around you.

"I was alone," he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. "Commanding this and that, but always alone. And you... you were my comfort, my solace. You were the embrace at the end of the day that I craved more than anything."

The weight of his words settled over you like a heavy blanket, the realization dawning on you that perhaps there was more to his deception than met the eye. And as you looked into his eyes, you saw the truth reflected back at you - the fear, the loneliness, the desperate longing for connection that had driven him to keep his secrets buried deep within.

His eyes seemed redder than normal, his dark circles were deep, and you noticed his hands shaking in his pockets. How much you were missed in his life, showing physically in him too. And you don't think it's very different from you.

"I was afraid" he confessed, his voice trembling with vulnerability. "Afraid to tell you, because I knew that sooner or later, this would be your reaction. And I couldn't bear the thought of losing you, of losing the one person who meant everything to me."

And then, the sound of footsteps echoed through the room as people entered, forming a circle around you. Among them was your father's team, your dad's trusted compatriots who now stood before you with a mixture of concern and determination etched on their faces.

One of them, your father's longtime partner, stepped forward, his voice grave as he addressed you. "Y/N, you need to leave," he said, his words ringing in your ears like a death knell. "Or else you'll be at risk."

But before you could protest, Seungcheol stepped forward, his expression desperate as he pleaded with you to listen. "Y/N, please," he implored, his voice cracking with emotion. "You have to leave. You can't do this."

You turned to him, your heart aching with the weight of the decision before you.

And then, without hesitation, you raised your gun, pointing it at your own team, who looked at you with shock and disbelief.

Seungcheol's eyes widened in horror as he realized what you were about to do. "No, Y/N, stop!" he cried out, his voice filled with desperation.

But you were beyond reason, consumed by a fierce determination to protect the man you loved at any cost. And as you stood there, gun in hand, facing down your own team, you knew that the line between loyalty and betrayal had blurred beyond recognition.

As your father appeared amidst the confusion, his eyes widened in shock at the scene unfolding before him. The sight of you, tears streaming down your face, with a gun pointed at your own team, was a stark contrast to the composed, capable operative he had always known you to be.

For a moment, silence hung heavy in the air as your father took in the gravity of the situation. It had been years since he had seen you cry like this, It was probably while you were still a child, years since you had allowed yourself to show such vulnerability in front of him. And the sight of his child in such distress made his heart ache with a pain he couldn't bear. "What the hell are you doing, Y/N?" he demanded, his eyes searching yours for answers. "Put the gun down, now."

You hesitated, torn between the love you felt for Seungcheol and the loyalty you owed to your father and the team. But before you could respond, Seungcheol stepped forward, his presence a reassuring weight against your back.

But before you could respond, Seungcheol spoke up, his voice filled with urgency. "Y/N, please," he pleaded, his grip on you tightening. "You have to let me go. I can't bear to see you put yourself in danger like this."

He was afraid that you wouldn't be able to bear the weight of the consequences, that the burden of his actions would crush you beneath its weight.

But you refused to let him go, clinging to him as if your life depended on it. For in that moment, Seungcheol was more than just a lover – he was your anchor amidst the storm, the one person who had stood by you through thick and thin. The only person who didn't disappear when he discovered his true identity.

"Dad, please," you pleaded, your voice shaking with emotion. "You don't understand."

But your father's expression remained resolute, his eyes flickering with concern as he took in the scene before him. "I don't care what your reasons are," he replied firmly. "Violence is not the answer."

"Dad, I know violence isn't the answer," you replied, your voice steady despite the tears still streaking down your cheeks. "But you have to understand, if I leave now, they're going to kill him. Don't act like you don't know what they're capable of, because I've seen it firsthand."

Your father's expression softened slightly, a flicker of understanding crossing his features as he took in your words. He may not have agreed with your methods, but he couldn't deny the truth of what you were saying.

As the tension reached its breaking point, you felt the weight of your decision pressing down on you like a suffocating blanket. With the sound of your father's henchmen cocking their guns ringing in your ears, you knew that you were running out of time.

"I would do everything for him, Dad," you said, your voice unwavering despite the fear pulsing through your veins. "And when I say everything, I mean everything."

With trembling hands, you raised your gun and pressed it against your own temple, your heart pounding in your chest as you looked around at the worried faces of those around you. "If anyone moves," you declared, your voice steady, "I will kill myself."

The room fell into a shocked silence, the air heavy with the weight of your words. Even Seungcheol, who stood frozen in disbelief, felt his heart plummet at the sight of you in such a precarious position. Holding your jacket with the intention of making you give up.

For a moment, time seemed to stand still as everyone processed the gravity of the situation. Your father's henchmen hesitated, their guns wavering as they exchanged uncertain glances. And amidst the chaos and confusion, you remained resolute, your finger poised on the trigger, ready to follow through on your desperate threat.

Your team knew that your death would spell the end of everything, that your father would never forgive them for letting it come to this.

"Dad," you began, your voice quivering, "you know I've never asked anything for myself. It's never mattered to me how much money we had or what position we held. But this... this is the only thing I'm asking you for."

Your father's expression softened, his features reflecting the turmoil of emotions swirling within him. Now he knew the depth of your love for Seungcheol, and he understood the lengths you were willing to go to protect him. After all, your dad had never seen you in love before. He observed the way Seungcheol, the mafia leader who needed to be cold enough to bear with leadership, held you tight, afraid to lose you, his own eyes reddened from the tears that hadn't stopped since.

For a moment, the room fell into a heavy silence, the tension palpable as everyone waited for your father's response. And then, with a resigned sigh, he nodded slowly, his eyes filled with a mixture of regret and understanding.

"I'll do what I can," he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. "But you have to promise me one thing, Y/N. Promise me that you'll put the gun down."

His words hung in the air, a solemn reminder of the gravity of the situation. And as you looked into your father's eyes, you knew that this was your only chance to save Seungcheol.

With a trembling hand, you lowered the gun, the weight of it slipping from your grasp as you stepped back, the tears still flowing freely down your cheeks. As the tension in the room began to dissipate, your father's authoritative voice cut through the stillness, commanding everyone to lower their guns. With a collective sigh of relief, the henchmen complied, their weapons lowering to their sides as the standoff came to an end.

With the immediate threat diffused, you turned around, your heart heavy with emotion as you sought solace in Seungcheol's comforting embrace. Tears continued to stream down your cheeks as you buried your face in his shoulder, allowing yourself to release the pent-up emotions that had been building within you.

Seungcheol held you tightly, his arms a reassuring anchor amidst the storm of emotions that raged within you. In that moment, the walls you had erected around your heart crumbled, allowing your vulnerability to flood forth like a rushing river.

And as you cried like a baby in his arms, Seungcheol held you close, his own tears mingling with yours as he too allowed himself to be vulnerable in your presence. Together, you shared a moment of raw emotion, a testament to the depth of your love and the strength of your bond.

Meanwhile, your father stood nearby, his expression a mixture of relief and contemplation as he observed the scene before him. Wiping his forehead with his hand, he took in the gravity of the situation, the weight of his daughter's love for Seungcheol weighing heavily on his heart.

In that moment, amidst the chaos and the turmoil, your father realized that he couldn't ignore the truth any longer. The love you and Seungcheol were sharing behind his back, was undeniable, and he knew that he would do whatever it took to protect it, even if it meant going against everything he had ever believed in.

As the tension eased and the henchmen filed out of the room under your father's silent command, a heavy silence settled over the empty space, leaving only you, Seungcheol, and your father standing amidst the remnants of the standoff.

The sound of footsteps echoing against the cold, concrete walls served as a stark reminder of the gravity of the situation that had just unfolded. Your father's expression remained inscrutable as he turned to face the two of you, his gaze lingering on the intertwined figures of you and Seungcheol.

Once they were gone, your father turned his attention to Seungcheol, his expression unreadable as he addressed the mafia leader. "Where are your henchmen?" he asked, his tone measured but tinged with curiosity.

Seungcheol met your father's gaze squarely, his own eyes unwavering as he replied, "I came alone, sir."

Your father's eyebrows furrowed in surprise, a mixture of confusion and concern crossing his features. "Why would you do that?" he questioned, his voice laced with genuine curiosity. "Putting yourself in danger like this."

Seungcheol's expression softened slightly, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips as he looked at you, his eyes filled with warmth and affection. "Because I knew Y/N's father was here," he explained, his voice steady. "And I didn't want to risk any violence, not when her family is involved."

Your father's gaze softened, a hint of admiration shining through as he regarded Seungcheol. "I see," he said, his tone reflecting a newfound respect for the man standing before him. "That's quite a risk you took, Seungcheol. But I appreciate your efforts to avoid unnecessary bloodshed."

Seungcheol nodded, a sense of relief washing over him as he received your father's approval. "Thank you, sir," he replied, his voice humble. "I just want what's best for Y/N, and I'll do whatever it takes to keep her safe."

Your father's gaze softened as he took in the sight of your swollen eyes and trembling form, the toll of the intense standoff evident in every quiver of your body. With a gentle hand, he placed it on your head, a silent gesture of comfort and reassurance.

"Y/N," he said softly, his voice filled with paternal concern, "you need to rest. It's been a long night, and you've been through a lot."

You nodded weakly, the exhaustion washing over you like a tidal wave. Despite the adrenaline still coursing through your veins, the weight of the events that had unfolded left you feeling drained and emotionally spent.

Turning to Seungcheol, your father's expression softened even further. "Take care of her," he instructed, his voice carrying a hint of gratitude. "She's been through enough tonight."

Seungcheol nodded solemnly, his eyes reflecting a sense of determination as he took your hand in his. "I will," he promised, his voice steady. "I'll make sure she gets some rest."

[...]

As you stepped through the door, you felt a weight lift off your shoulders, the tension of the night slowly beginning to ebb away.

Without a word, Seungcheol guided you to the couch, his arm wrapped protectively around your shoulders as he led you to sit down. The warmth of his touch sent a shiver of comfort through you, easing the ache that lingered in your bones.

As you settled onto the couch, Seungcheol disappeared into the kitchen, returning moments later with a blanket and a steaming mug of tea. He draped the blanket over your shoulders, his touch gentle and reassuring, before handing you the mug with a soft smile.

"Drink this," he said softly, his voice laced with concern. "It'll help you relax."

As Seungcheol sat beside you, his gaze filled with concern, he couldn't help but feel the weight of the tension that lingered between you. With a hesitant voice, he broached the subject that had been weighing on his mind since the events of the night unfolded.

"Are you still mad at me?" he asked softly, his eyes searching yours for any sign of forgiveness

"I'm not mad, Seungcheol," you began, your voice soft but steady. "I'm just... confused."

Seungcheol nodded, his expression filled with empathy as he listened intently. "I understand," he replied, his voice gentle. "I know I've kept things from you, and I'm sorry for that."

You sighed, the frustration and uncertainty of the situation bubbling to the surface. "I just don't understand why you didn't tell me sooner," you admitted.

Seungcheol's expression softened at your words, a hint of regret flashing in his eyes. "I understand," he replied, his voice gentle. "But I want you to know that I never meant to keep anything from you. I just... I didn't know how to tell you."

You nodded, the weight of his words sinking in. "I know," you said quietly. "And I forgive you. But moving forward, I don't want there to be any more secrets between us."

Seungcheol nodded solemnly, his eyes locking with yours in a silent promise. "I agree," he said, his voice firm. "No more secrets. I'll tell you everything, I promise."

The sincerity in his words washed over you like a wave, easing the tension that had settled between you. And as you talked, the conversation flowed freely, the walls between you crumbling away as you laid bare your fears and insecurities.

"It's just... I miss you, Seungcheol," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "I miss us. The way things used to be."

Seungcheol's expression softened at your words, his heart aching at the pain he had caused you. "I miss it too," he confessed, his voice filled with longing. "I miss being able to be completely open with you, to share everything without reservation."

You felt a surge of emotion welling up inside you, a mixture of love and frustration that threatened to overwhelm you. "I love and hate how you bring out this side of me," you admitted, chuckling. "The side that's open-hearted and vulnerable, that shows my feelings like a teenager in love."

Without another word, you reached out, pulling him close by his neck and capturing his lips in a passionate kiss. Seungcheol leaned into the kiss, his own desire evident in the way he responded, but before things could escalate further, he pulled back, his expression conflicted.

"Y/N, we... we should take things slow," he said gently, his voice tinged with regret. "You've been through a lot tonight, and you need to rest."

But you shook your head, your eyes darkening with desire as you leaned in closer, your lips brushing against his in a silent plea for more. "I'm not tired, Seungcheol," you whispered, your breath mingling with his. "Not when I'm with you."

As Seungcheol pulled you onto his lap, a surge of desire coursed through your veins, igniting a fiery passion that consumed you both. His hand tangled in your hair, sending shivers down your spine as he pressed you down onto his throbbing cock.

Desperation fueled your movements as you eagerly tugged at the hem of his shirt, your fingers fumbling with the fabric in your haste to rid him of the barrier between you. With a husky laugh, Seungcheol obliged, lifting his arms to allow you to peel the shirt from his toned torso.

The sight of his bare chest sent a rush of heat to your core, the muscles rippling beneath his skin a tantalizing invitation that you couldn't resist. Your hands roamed greedily over his chest, tracing every contour and dip as you reveled in the feel of him beneath your fingertips. "You're so eager, aren't you?" he teased, his voice husky with desire. "But don't worry, my love. I'm not going anywhere."

Seungcheol's laughter echoed in the room, a sound that only served to fuel your desire further. With a hungry growl, you leaned in to capture his lips in a searing kiss, your tongues dancing in a passionate tango as you lost yourselves in the heat of the moment.

As you continued to grind your clothed core against Seungcheol's throbbing cock confined within his jeans, the intensity of your arousal reached new heights. The sensation was so intense that you had to break the kiss, letting out a low, guttural moan that reverberated against Seungcheol's lips.

His own desire was evident, his chin quivering as he fought to hold back his own moans of pleasure. But unable to resist any longer, Seungcheol swiftly freed you from your shirt, his hands deftly unclasping your bra and tossing it aside.

With a sense of urgency, Seungcheol lowered his head, capturing one of your exposed nipples in his mouth. A jolt of pleasure shot through you as his warm tongue flicked against the sensitive bud, his lips closing around it in a deliciously tantalizing embrace.

Seungcheol lavished attention on one nipple, his hand eagerly reachingj for the other, his fingers expertly pinching and rolling the hardened peak between his fingertips.

As you opened your eyes, the world around you seemed to blur for a moment before coming into focus. And in that instant, you realized that you were no longer on the couch, but instead lying naked on Seungcheol's bed.

A surprised gasp escaped your lips as you took in the sight before you, the realization sinking in that Seungcheol had effortlessly whisked you away to his bedroom with incredible speed. It was yet another testament to his quick reflexes and agility, qualities that you found incredibly alluring.

Seungcheol's lips left a trail of wet, fiery kisses down your skin, each one igniting a new wave of desire within you. Your eyes followed his every movement, locking onto his gaze as he looked up at you with a hunger that mirrored your own.

With a slow, deliberate motion, his tongue traced a tantalizing path along your slick folds, eliciting a moan of pleasure from deep within your throat. The sensation of his tongue against your sensitive flesh sent shockwaves of ecstasy coursing through your body, your slick wetting his tongue as he continued to explore every inch of your pussy.

But as his tongue teased and tantalized your clit, driving you to the brink of madness with each flick and swirl, you couldn't help but tremble with anticipation.

"Please," you whimpered, your voice thick with desire. "Stop teasing me, Seungcheol. I need you."

Seungcheol's lips curved into a mischievous smile as he looked up at you, his eyebrows furrowing with amusement. "Oh, baby," he cooed, his voice dripping with lust. "But teasing you is half the fun. And besides, I love seeing you squirm and moan for me."

As Seungcheol's tongue lapped at your clit with an intensity that bordered on exquisite torture, you felt a fire ignite within you, consuming you with a burning desire that threatened to consume you whole. Your back arched involuntarily, a promise of the orgasm that loomed tantalizingly close on the horizon.

But just as you felt yourself teetering on the edge of ecstasy, Seungcheol abruptly pulled away, leaving you panting and trembling with need. Your legs quivered with embarrassment as he rose from between your thighs, a wicked smile playing on his lips.

Desperate for release, you begged him once more, your voice thick with desire and longing. But instead of granting your request, Seungcheol pouted playfully, delivering little slaps to your swollen pussy that sent shocks of pleasure coursing through your body.

Each slap elicited a gasp of pleasure from deep within your throat, your hips instinctively bucking against his hand in search of more. And when Seungcheol least expected it, you surprised him by cumming just from the sensation of his hand against your sensitive flesh.

With a cry of ecstasy, you grabbed hold of his wrist, pressing his hand firmly against your throbbing cunt as you rode out the waves of pleasure that crashed over you.

"Well, well, well," he teased, his voice dripping with a hint of mockery. "Looks like someone's a little too eager, hmm? Cumming just from a few little slaps on that pretty little pussy of yours."

With a coy tilt of your head, you met his gaze squarely, your voice steady despite the lingering traces of embarrassment. "Well then," you said, your tone playful yet assertive. "Are you going to fuck this pussy or what?"

Seungcheol's sudden assertiveness took you by surprise, his red ears and the way his pants and underwear fell to the ground signaling his overwhelming desire. Before you could react, he had manhandled you around the room, pressing your back against the wall with a force that left you breathless.

"Since you want to feel this cock," he murmured huskily, his voice sending shivers down your spine, "you're going to feel it entirely."

With that, he thrust his cock deep inside of your pussy, your walls clenching around him as he filled you completely. His grip tightened behind your legs, holding you securely against him as you clung to his neck, your nails digging into his skin with a mixture of pleasure and desperation.

As the position allowed him to hit your g'spot with each powerful thrust, pleasure surged through you in waves, igniting a fire within you that threatened to consume you whole. Your eyes rolled back in ecstasy, your body arching against his as you surrendered to the overwhelming sensation of pleasure that washed over you.

Seungcheol's voice was a low, guttural moan as he continued to drive into you, each thrust pushing you closer and closer to the edge of ecstasy. "You like that, don't you?" he growled, his voice thick with desire. "Feeling me deep inside you, hitting all the right spots."

"Oh God! Seungcheol-ah!"

Seungcheol's eyes darkened with desire as he heard you moan his name, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips. "That's it, baby," he growled, his voice thick with lust. "Moan my name again. I want to hear you scream it."

His words sent a thrill of excitement coursing through you, igniting a fire within you that burned hotter with each passing moment. With a sense of urgency, you complied, your voice a breathless whisper as you cried out his name once more.

"Seungcheol," you moaned, the sound echoing through the room as pleasure washed over you in a relentless wave. "Oh god, Seungcheol, yes!"

With a hand tangled in Seungcheol's hair, you felt the tension building within you, the waves of pleasure crashing over you like a tidal wave. "I'm cumming, baby, I'm cumming," you warned, your voice trembling with anticipation as you felt the climax approaching.

Seungcheol responded with slow, sharp, and hard thrusts, each one sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body. The sensation was almost too much to bear, but you welcomed it eagerly, relishing in the overwhelming pleasure that consumed you.

"I got you, baby, I got you," Seungcheol murmured, his voice filled with reassurance and desire. "Oh my god, cum for me."

His words were all it took to push you over the edge, your body convulsing with pleasure as you creamed all over his cock. The sound of your release mixed with the slickness of your arousal filled the room, a symphony of wetness that echoed off the walls.

In that moment, any doubts you had about Seungcheol's strength faded away, replaced by the certainty of his embrace. His arms held you so tight that you couldn't help but feel safe, trusting him completely to carry you through the intensity of your orgasm.

As Seungcheol gazed into your eyes, he couldn't help but be captivated by the lazy smile that played on your lips, your gaze still clouded with the aftermath of pleasure. He gently lay you back on the bed, his fingers trailing along your skin as he asked if you could handle another round.

"Ready for round two, baby?" Seungcheol murmured, his voice thick with desire as he positioned himself between your legs. "I want to make you cum again, even harder this time."

Your breath caught in your throat at his words, excitement coursing through you as you eagerly awaited his touch. "Oh god, yes," you moaned, your voice a breathless whisper. "Please, Seungcheol, fuck me hard."

You nodded eagerly, a playful glint dancing in your eyes as you spread your legs for him, inviting him to take you once more.

With a growl of approval, Seungcheol buried his cock deep inside of your sopping cunt, the sensation of him filling you once again sending shockwaves of pleasure coursing through your body. With each powerful thrust, he drove deeper into you, feeling your pussy getting tighter every second.

"Fuck, you feel so good," Seungcheol groaned, his voice thick with lust as he lost himself in the rhythm of your bodies moving together. "I could fuck you like this all night long."

"Yes, Seungcheol," you moaned, your voice hoarse already "Fuck me harder, baby. Make me cum all over your cock."

Seungcheol whimpered at your words, you could feel the intensity of his desire growing, his cock twitching inside of you with each thrust. Determined to drive him over the edge, you watched with anticipation as he licked his thumb and began to massage your clit with incredible speed.

As your pussy clenched around him, Seungcheol felt a surge of pleasure shoot through his body, his own orgasm crashing over him with an intensity that left him trembling. He watched you in awe, your head thrown back in ecstasy as you screamed in pleasure, your body writhing beneath him as you rode out the waves of your climax.

With almost closed eyes, Seungcheol's gaze remained fixed on you, his own pleasure mirrored in the way his body convulsed with each pulse of release. His hands trembled around your hips as his cum spilled into you, filling you up with each pulsating throb.

Despite his best efforts to keep up the dirty talk, Seungcheol found himself overcome by the overwhelming sensation of pleasure, his words reduced to incoherent moans and stuttered phrases. "Oh god," he groaned, his voice thick with lust. "You feel so good, baby. So fucking good."

As Seungcheol crawled to you and laid his head on your chest, hugging you tightly, you felt a sense of warmth and comfort enveloping you. But when you felt the hot tears against your skin, your heart clenched with worry.

"What's wrong, Seungcheol?" you asked softly, your voice filled with tenderness and concern. "Why are you crying?"

His eyes glistened with unshed tears as he met your gaze, his expression a mixture of sadness and regret. "I just... I can't believe how brave you were today," he murmured. "You risked everything to protect me, even after everything that happened. And I... I just wish I could have protected you better."

Your heart ached at his words, the depth of his love and concern for you shining through despite his tears. Wrapping your arms around him, you held him close, offering him comfort and reassurance in the face of his distress.

"You don't need to protect me, Seungcheol," you whispered, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead. "We protect each other. That's what love is all about."

Seungcheol's tears continued to fall, but you could sense a glimmer of relief in his eyes as he leaned into your embrace, finding solace in your words.

"I missed you so much, Seungcheol," you whispered, your voice filled with love and longing. "More than you'll ever know."

His eyes softened at your words, a small smile playing on his lips as he reached out to cup your cheek tenderly. "I love you," he said softly, his voice a gentle caress against your skin.

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teatreeoilll · 3 months

Text

𝗡𝗲𝗶𝗴𝗵𝗯𝗼𝗿𝗹𝘆 𝗗𝗶𝘀𝗽𝘂𝘁𝗲 (𝗛𝗶𝗴𝘂𝗿𝘂𝗺𝗮 𝗛𝗶𝗿𝗼𝗺𝗶 𝗫 𝗥𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿)

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w/c - 2.6k content - MDNI! 18 +, fem!reader, porn with plot, asking a man in a suit to not take it off when he fucks you, not proofread because it's so late rn, hope I'll get to it tomorrow

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When Higuruma Hiromi finished climbing up the stairs, moving slowly and sighing until he finally reached his apartment, the walls around the floor were already rhythmically humming.

"Fucking hell," It took every single ounce of strength in his body to turn away from his own door and turn to knock on the neighbors'.

Goddamn it, not him again, you think as you unlock the door, wincing at the passing thought of ever finding the grumpy, tired man waiting outside of your apartment in any way attractive.

"Yes?" You utter, cross-armed with a fake smile glazing your lips.

He stares into the space behind you for a moment before meeting your eyes, "I'm sorry to bother you," you should be sorry for bothering me, "I know we've had this discussion before," about a million goddamn times, "but if you wouldn't mind," before I go insane, "turning down the music?"

"Listen," you drawl, mimicking his calm tone through gritted teeth, "we talked this through already. It's still early, and it's not against the law to listen to music at a reasonable volume in my own apartment."

Higuruma's eye twitched at the words, still trying to retain a neutral expression. The law? You're bringing up the law? Now, Higuruma Hiromi didn't consider himself a proud man, but the next words to come out of his mouth made his self-respect plummet, "I'm sorry, it's just that ever since my wife died, I've been having trouble sleeping."

You blink slowly, your arms dropping to the sides of your body, "O-oh," you babbled, "I'm so sorry, I didn't - I - " the heat rises to your cheeks, "I'm so sorry, uh, I didn't catch your name - "

"Higuruma Hiromi," he adds.

"I'm so sorry for your loss, Hiromi; I'll turn it down."

That evening, Hiromi sinks on the sofa like he's carried by angel's wings, relishing in the serene, tranquil, long-awaited silence. But something itches at the back of his mind; he spent too many days in court to know that a lie will always come back to bite.

"Shit," you hiss as your groceries hitting the building's floor, apples rolling on the tiles beneath you. "Stupid apples," you grumble as you stoop down, desperately trying to stuff them into your overflowing bag.

"Do you need help?" A voice behind you asks.

"It's fine," you breathe, catching another rolling apple in your hand, "I'm just here, uh, cussing at the fruit."

"I can see that," and Hiromi crouches down to help you, the fabric of his suit rustling as his pale fingers help you pick up the things off the floor.

You unlock your door, pushing it in with your shoulder, and your neighbor follows suit into your apartment.

"Where do I - " Hiromi stands at the entrance, his arms packed with your shopping.

"Oh - uh, " you walk to the kitchen counter, "right here is fine," you fix your gaze on the man unloading your shopping, a strand of hair falling on his forehead as he does. "Thank you."

After he finished, his eyes turn to find yours, and you're not quite sure why you're staring or at what, with your gaze rolling from his suit to his dark eyes, but you manage to conclude that, strangely enough, it's not unnatural to see him standing in your kitchen.

A long moment of silence graces the room before he finally utters, "It's nothing."

You thank him three more times while he exits your apartment, and he brushes off each one. It's only after he leaves that you notice the rapid pace of your heart, and you walk to the mirror to look at your face, standing before it for a moment, wondering how long it has been since you've turned this deep shade of crimson.

Oh god, you're so nice.

"I've brought them up for you, I hope you don't mind," you smile at your neighbor, bent over in your too-tight lounge shorts to put a stack of letters near his door, "they just seemed to be piling up."

"You really didn't have to," He mutters, crouching to meet you at the bottom of his door, gathering the letters in his hands.

But you just kept the smile on your face, so soft and considerate the pangs of guilt overturned his stomach. "Oh, and - uh," is my face growing red? "I - I baked some cookies, I mean," you falter, "I mean, I baked too many cookies. Would you like some?"

Maybe he is attractive, your neighbor, with his soft and tired dark eyes; or maybe it's the depth of sorrow you thought resided in them that made the need to help him grow.

It would be rude to decline, wouldn't it? "S-sure," he says - But it's immoral to agree, and the thought fades at the scent of fresh baked goods from your apartment already filling the hallway.

You don't mean to be rude when you walk through his door, setting a small plate of glazed lemon cookies on his old coffee table, your gaze darting to the pile of records on the shelf in the corner, "So, you do like music," you chuckle, eyes fluttering over the names on the covers.

"I do," he admits, the soft lemon cookie melting on his tongue, "But if Sinatra came here and sang while I'm trying to sleep, I don't think I'd like him that much anymore."

You catch his gaze, and your lips twitch for a moment before you burst into laughter. God, he stares at you, thinking you're an almost ethereal sight as you browse his records, perched on his old leather couch, laughing at something he said, with your smile scrunching the corners of your eyes so gracefully he thinks he just might -

"Love?" you ask.

"Yes?"

And you laugh again, "No - I meant, Love." You point at the record sitting on the top of the shelf, "Didn't take you for one to listen to them."

He coughs, a red blush dusting his pale cheeks, "It's a good album."

"It is, I don't think I've ever heard it on vinyl," you say, the palms of your hands grazing your thighs as you lift yourself up from the sofa, "Well, I think I better be off - "

"Would you like to?" He asks.

"Sure."

As you sit there, listening to the soft flamenco-style guitar flowing from the record player, it takes everything from Hiromi to calm the urge to touch you or at least hold your hand, fuck, he'd settle for a brush of your fingers against his own. Tackling these urges, blatantly ignoring the music, his mind replays the same old words he'd read countless times, a thing he usually does when he's trying to take his mind off something; - One sultry evening early in July a young man emerged from the small furnished lodging he occupied in a large five-storied house on Pereoulok S - , and turned slowly, with an air of indecision, towards the K - bridge.* *a/n: the opening line of Crime and Punishment, Fyodor Dostoyevsky

The faint smile you give him as you meet him at the entrance to the building makes the blood rush to his ears.

"Good evening," you say, and Hiromi thinks it really is much better now.

"Good evening," he answers, pointing at the exit, "I'm out to the convenience, do you need anything?"

You shake your head, "Thank you," you say before continuing the path up the stairs.

It's a frantic knock on the door that startles you once you're out of the shower, and you rush to open it, towel still wrapped around your damp hair.

"Yes?" Your gaze meets a young, short-haired woman, a stack of papers barely fitting in the grip of her hands.

"Oh, I'm so sorry," she apologizes, "I must have gotten the doors mixed up, does Higuruma Hiromi live on this floor?"

You nod, pointing a finger to the door next to yours, "But I just saw him leaving."

"Oh, crap -," the woman mutters, "I'm terribly sorry to ask this, but these are for the trial tomorrow," she lifts the papers up a bit, "would you mind if I leave them with you?"

"Trial?" You inquire, already holding your hands out to take the papers.

"Yes, a boy arrested on suspicion of murder and robbery," she sighs, "he won't let it go."

You hold the stack of papers, "Hiromi's a lawyer?"

The woman chuckles, "Oh, ah - yes."

"He works so hard," you think aloud, "even after what happened to his wife."

The woman's brows furrow, "Wife? Oh god, no, Mr. Higuruma's not married."

You tilt your head, your eyes narrowing at her words, "Sorry - uhm, has he ever been married?"

She shakes her head, "Well, I'll just leave these with you; I'll call him so he'll pick them up once he returns," she parts with a curt bow.

Loud. Insufferably, overwhelmingly, dreadfully, loud. The music crashes onto the walls, making them buzz so furiously you would have missed the knock on the door if only you weren't already waiting for it.

"Yes?" you scoff at the puzzled lawyer standing at your doorstep.

Hiromi's eyebrows knit together, the music reverberating through the staircase as he asked, "It's a bit loud, don't you think?"

You step away for a moment to find the stack of papers, returning to the doorstep to shove it in his arms, "Why? Will it piss off your imaginary wife?"

Oh, he thinks, and the door slams in his face.

He goes into his apartment and places the papers on the coffee table. He sits down to read them, only to find his eyes skimming over the letters, not quite making any sense of what he's reading with the music playing through the wall and his conscience raging in his mind.

Another knock on the door, and you open it with a huff, "Forgot something?"

Hiromi stands with his arms dangling by the sides of his body, a soft look in his eyes as he mutters, "I'm sorry."

He's just a neighbor, right? A nice one, at that, with a handsome face and kind eyes. Why am I so angry? Why's the music blaring with the intent of ruining his evening? Why's he standing so close -

It's an eternity in your mind, but only a few seconds pass while you think, unconsciously staring directly at his lips. He catches that, of course, he wouldn't get anywhere in court if he wasn't mindful of nuance.

The first thing you feel is his hand grasping at the back of your neck, pulling you impossibly close to him. Next, the soft brush of his lips against yours as he breathes, "Is this alright?"

You don't answer; instead, you grasp at his arms through the fabric of his suit, capturing his lips as a fog settles in your mind, a soft hum running from your mouth to his.

His arms wander on your body while you relish in the softness of his lips; they skim across your lower back to come down and hold a firm grip on your ass when his tongue finally darts into your mouth. "Fuck," he pants, pushing you up against the wall, and you only momentarily remember you should probably close the damn door.

"Hm?" he puzzles when you break away from the kiss, watching you gesture towards the door, "I guess you can be considerate towards your neighbors," and he pushes the door, his tongue returning to your mouth before he even hears the closing thud.

It doesn't take long for him to slide his hand from your ass into your pants, long fingers gliding on your lower stomach, dragging the fabric of your underwear to the side as he rubs circles over your clit. "Don't be so quiet," he hums against your lips when he sees you biting back your moans, "Trust me, no one can hear you through this noise."

"Fuck, Hiro - " you gasp at the feeling of his fingers entering your cunt, one look at his glazed-over eyes and you try to desperately press your lips to his again, but he finds the crook of your neck instead, sucking on the skin there, leaving small bruises while his fingers glide in and out of your soaked cunt.

Each graze of his teeth against your neck makes you clench against his fingers, and he feels himself growing unbearably hard at the feeling, the slight friction of his cock rutting against the fabric of his trousers barely enough to give him some relief.

"Shit, sucking my fingers in like that - " he murmurs against your neck, the pads of his fingers caressing the spot that made you whimper, "You close?" And you feel the knot in your stomach come undone at his words, wetness gushing over his fingers as your body quivers.

You let out a choked gasp when he picks you up from the floor, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist. Your clothes are discarded by the time you reach the couch, and you're trapped under him, back pressed against the sofa while the fabric of his suit rubs against your naked body.

The jacket of his suit falls to the floor, and his hand reaches to undo his tie, "N-no," you breathe, "Leave it on," you say as your hand works on the zipper of his trousers, pulling them down together with his underwear just low enough for his cock to spring out.

"Dirty," he chuckles against your lips, pressing the tip of his cock against your entrance. You moan at the feeling, pushing your hips down to take in the tip, "I always liked lawyers," you push a hand up to grip his hair, tugging at the soft strands.

"Did you now?" His muscles tighten as he pushes his cock further into you, rolling his hips to finally bottom out inside you.

"Mhmm," you moan into his mouth, feeling your pussy push against his thrusts, drunk on the soft smell of his cologne lingering in the air.

"Hiro - " you can barely breathe out his name with the feeling of his cock working you open, your hand leaving his hair to grip at his tie dangling from his neck, holding it tightly in your fist.

"God," he groans, chasing his climax with deeper thrusts, "you really do like lawyers," he huffs as your pussy clenches against him, the heat spreading under his skin.

He pulls out, and you whimper at the absence of his cock as he flips you, your head pressed flat against the couch, your ass perked up against his hips. His thrusts feel unbelievably deeper from that angle, his hand reaching to grip mercilessly at your hair to pull your head up.

"Ah - Fuck -," you babble, "Hiro - I - ," your reach a hand to rub your clit, his thrusts a perfect pace to the coiling tension in your stomach, and he anchors his hand on the fat of your ass, fingers digging deeper as he bites back his moans, coming closer to his own release.

"I - Ah -, " and you don't even finish your moan as your back arches, heat coursing through your body as you come, feeling as if you'd collapse if not for his hand holding you up by your hair. His hips stutter, a silent 'fuck' escaping his lips as you feel his seed painting your walls, his thrusts finally slowing down.

He pulls out, releasing the grip on your hair, and you turn a flushed gaze towards him, a dazed smile glazing your lips. He adjusts himself back in his trousers, his eyes falling on the speakers on your table, still ruthlessly blasting music.

"Is this the..?" He motions towards the speakers, and you nod.

He gets up, his hand twisting the volume knob until the white mark on it touches zero. The room grows silent.

Finally, he thinks.

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tommysversion · 1 year

Text

Jealousy, Jealousy [ Joel Miller x Reader / Tommy Miller x Reader ]

Summary: you walk in on Joel & Tess, despite your building chemistry with him. Hurt, you turn to his brother for comfort. Joel finds out, and he isn’t happy.

CWs: derogatory language / unsafe sex / age gap implied / oral sex (m!receiving) / cum play / cum eating / choking / alcohol usage / use of pet names / very little plot it’s just a spicy mess

Tag List: @joelsgirl @loquaciousferret @dreamingofdaddydin @funnygirlthatgab

Notes: like always, this is for the girls, the gays and the theys. I wanted to finish my other WIP but this took over. Have fun.

Buy Me A Coffee?

Part Two / Alt Version

The whiskey burns your throat on the way down. You’re on maybe your third or fourth, but it’s still not enough to burn away the sight and sound you came across earlier.

You don’t have any claim on Joel, not really. Nothing has ever happened between you, even though there’s been a few close calls, but you were almost certain that he felt the same way about you as you do about him.

Until you walked in on him and Tess. Now you can’t get the image out of your head, the sight of her beneath him, the sounds…

You slam your empty glass down on the bar. It’s a shitty dive of a place in the QZ, one you all know well enough.

“Whoa there.”

You turn your head to find yourself face to face with Joel’s brother, Tommy, concern etched into his face. He’s not bad looking, not really, but you’ve never really been interested in him. Until now. Now, he’s looking pretty fucking good. Or maybe you’re just noticing him. Who cares.

“Come on, let’s get you home before curfew.” He holds out his hand to you. You don’t need it, not really, you aren’t drunk enough, but you take it anyway, let him lead you out of the bar and onto the streets.

“Why’d you come looking?” You ask as you let him walk you home.

“You didn’t show up to drop off this afternoon. Figured something was wrong, figured I’d find you here.”

“Didn’t think anyone would notice. Joel and Tess seemed too busy to care.” You can’t help the bitterness that creeps into your voice as you mention it.

“Ah.” Tommy shrugs, “try not to worry about it. My brother’s an idiot.”

Normally you’d argue. Jump to his defence. Tonight you just don’t feel like it, too hurt by what you saw to argue. Reaching your apartment block, you turn to him.

“You gonna come in for a drink? Least I can do after you walked me home.”

You know what you’re implying, don’t mind if he takes the hint that you’re offering more than a drink. You almost don’t expect him to follow you, but he does, up the stairs and into your apartment, shutting the door behind you both while you fish out two glasses and a bottle.

“Make yourself at home.”

You pour the liquor while he drops himself down onto your couch, spread out and lazy. Really, he’s quite attractive. You’ve never really noticed before, and maybe it’s the fact that you’re so angry and hurt that’s making you see him in this light, but still.

You hand him one of the glasses, down your own before you sit yourself down on the floor by his feet. You’re being forward as hell and you know it, but you’re tipsy and hurt and you just want to forget for a short while.

He looks down at you, surveys you with dark eyes so similar to Joel’s. The thought makes your heart hurt, so you push it away.

“What are you doing, hon?” His hand comes down to catch your cheek, tilting your head up to look at him.

Tommy doesn’t know what’s going on between you and his brother. Knows that Joel’s an idiot if he doesn’t realise that you’re interested. If he was a better man, he’d push you away, but, well…

It’s been a while since he’s gotten anything, and if his older brother is too stupid to realise you’re right there, dumb enough to fuck around with your feelings and Tess? Well, he doesn’t mind being the collateral.

“Trying to decide whether or not to suck your cock.” You admit, not bothering to be coy as you look up at him.

“Oh, yeah? What’s holding you back?”

“You haven’t said that I can.” You shrug, fingers creeping up his thighs.

“There’s a pretty girl on her knees for me askin’ to suck my dick, you think I’m gonna say no?” Amusement colours his tone.

“Well… I wanted to be polite and ask.” You smirk as your fingers find the zip of his pants, tug it out the way, your small hand reaching in and wrapping around his cock, stroking lazily.

He just leans back into the couch, watches you as you rub your thumb over the head of his cock, brushing across beads of precum, collecting them on your fingers to lick them up.

“Christ…” his eyes darken as he watches you, your eyes on his as you lean in and press feather light kisses to the tip of his cock. He’s nice and big, thick, slightly curved, and you love the slightly salty taste of him.

You don’t like to brag, but you know you’re good at this, enjoy it even, pressing little kisses along the length of him, tiny kitten licks to the slit in the tip, teasing until he fists a hand into your hair and yanks your head down onto his cock, almost making you choke.

You recover quickly, sucking his cock like he’s the most delicious thing you’ve ever tasted, moving your head up and down, guided by the heavy hand in your hair.

“Fuck…” he rocks his hips up into your mouth, getting deeper into your throat, “such a sweet little mouth…”

You hum around him, urged on by the praise, eager to keep pleasing him, so desperate to be wanted…

You know full well this is messy and sloppy, your drool coating his cock, eyes watering slightly as you look up at him. You can’t see it, of course, but you’re a vision to behold, on your knees for him, mascara running down your face as your cheeks hollow out for him, his cock disappearing into your throat like you were made to take him.

God, he’s impressed, both by how well you worship his cock, and by how quickly you’ve worked him up.

“Gonna make me cum, pretty thing…” his hand releases your head, strokes your cheek lazily.

You pull away from him for a moment, wrap your hand around his cock and stroke slowly.

“Cum on my face.” You tell him, hazy with lust and drink. “On my tongue.”

He groans, moves to guide your mouth back to him, but you move faster, wrap your lips around him and let him rut up into your throat, moaning around him. Fuck, he tastes so good, exactly what you needed.

You can feel him becoming more erratic, groaning softly before he pulls out of your mouth, wraps his hand around his cock and strokes it roughly as your lips part, tongue flicking out to catch the hot ropes that spurt from his cock as he groans.

Fuck, you’re a sight to behold, on your knees, makeup a mess, lips parted with his cum on your tongue and your face. You lean in and lick him clean, swallow every drop you can get.

His fingers reach out, swipe through the mess he’s left on your lips, press them into your mouth.

“Suck ‘em, that’s a good girl.”

You do exactly as he says, swirl your tongue around his fingers until you’re satisfied they’re clean.

“You want me to -?”

You shake your head. You’re exhausted, your throat hurts, and while the offer is nice, you don’t think you can stay awake for it.

“Nah, ‘s okay. I just wanted to give you something.” You offer him a small smile as you get to your feet, watch him tuck himself back into his pants.

To his credit, he’s not a jerk. He makes sure you’re safely in your bed with a glass of water beside you before he heads off into the night, leaving you almost wishing you’d taken up his offer.

——

A week later, you’re sitting in the same bar with one of your friends, pointedly ignoring Joel a few seats away.

Once again, you’ve had a few too many to drink, and it’s loosening your tongue.

“So, what’s the deal with you and that guy anyway? The mystery man you were telling me about the other day?” Your friend knows exactly the right questions to ask, and while normally you’re not the bragging type, seeing Joel again has sent that spike of bitter resentment and jealousy through you.

Sure, it’s not like he’d ever promised you anything, but he’d damn well seemingly made it clear he was interested. Only for you to walk in on him fucking Tess like he loved her.

You hate him for it. Hate him for hurting you. More than that, though, you hate yourself for not being brave enough to confront your feelings.

But right now, you’re feeling spiteful, and you know damn well he can hear every word you say.

“Oh, it wasn’t really anything, just a one night thing.” You shrug.

“What did you say his name was again? Jimmy?”

“Tommy.” You run your finger around the rim of your glass.

“As in Miller?”

“Mmhmm.” You can feel Joel’s gaze burning into you as you speak. “He walked me home, one thing led to another…”

“Fuck, he’s so hot though…” your friend sighs, “I bet he has a great dick.”

“I mean… I liked it.”

You giggle, a very uncharacteristic sound, but still. You don’t regret what happened, not at all. You like giving head, and it wasn’t like he had an unpleasant dick. If anything, you kind of wish you’d let him fuck you. Maybe another time, seeing as Joel is clearly no longer interested.

“Are you gonna give me any details, or?”

You’re about to open your mouth when a hand clamps down on your shoulder.

“Outside. Now.”

You don’t need to look to know Joel’s pissed; you do anyway, are met with his stormy glare.

“Nice to see you too, Joel.”

“I mean it. Outside, now, or I’ll drag your ass out.” One look at him tells you he’s not kidding.

Sighing, you excuse yourself from your friend. Follow Joel out of the bar into the street, or rather, let him tow you out. Let him drag you by the wrist back to your apartment. Nobody wants to be caught in the streets at this hour.

“What the fuck, Joel?” You demand as soon as he’s slammed the door behind you.

“Don’t you what the fuck me.” He growls, crossing his arms over his chest as he backs you into the small room.

“I absolutely will, what’s your goddamn problem?” You hiss at him, furious. Furious and still hurt, because the last time you saw him he was fucking another woman, and no matter what you do you can’t get rid of that image.

“You! You’re my goddamn problem, running your mouth in that bar where anyone could hear you.”

You roll your eyes at him, your own temper flaring.

“How is what I was talking about any of your business?” You demand, glaring at him. “How is what I do any of your business?”

Admittedly you’re not very intimidating in comparison, but still.

“You were making a damn fool of yourself. Do you ever know when to keep your fucking mouth shut?”

“I don’t know. Why don’t you ask your brother? He seemed to know how to shut me up.” The words come out before you can stop them.

Joel exhales slowly, pinches the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger.

“Is there a reason you’re being such a goddamn bitch? Fucking my brother included.” He’s so damn frustrated right now, not understanding what’s gotten into you.

Usually you’re so sweet to him, the pair of you dancing around the mutual attraction you share. He’s not going to push it if you don’t, but maybe he’s misread things?

You stare at him.

“Are you fucking serious right now? You don’t know why I’m mad at you?”

He just stares at you.

“I heard you and Tess, you asshole. So yeah. I know that for all your sweet words and the way we’ve been dancing around the subject? That’s just how you are, right? Anything to get laid, I guess.” You spit the words.

Something in his gaze snaps as he crosses to you, backs you against the wall, slams one hand into the cracked plaster beside your shoulder, the other settling on your throat.

You’re too angry to be scared, even though you know he’s dangerous, know you’ve pushed him too far, like poking a goddamn angry bear.

“First, don’t fucking assume that you know any goddamn thing about what happened that day.” He’s leaning right down to you, you can smell the whiskey on him, but still you aren’t afraid.

“Second, don’t presume that I’m that sort of bastard. You really think I’d do that to you?”

You glare at him.

“You already have.” You hate that your voice shakes as you say it.

Joel sighs as he looks at you.

“I’ve known her almost as long as you’ve been alive. Almost but not quite. There’s a difference between me fucking her when it means nothing, and what you’ve done.”

You glare at him again, because you don’t see any difference.

“It may not mean anything to you, but it definitely does to her.”

“And that’s her fucking problem, I’ve made it goddamn clear to her that I don’t see her that way, that that would be the last time. Then you go and fuck my brother?”

Somehow, suddenly, it becomes important to clarify. As if somehow it will make him less angry.

“Technically, I didn’t fuck him.”

“You-“ Joel stops mid sentence and looks at you. “You didn’t?”

“No. I mean, I sucked his dick, but… I was angry, I was so fucking angry and I just wanted to feel something. I just wanted to feel wanted.”

Joel stares at you like he’s never seen you before. Like he’s trying to understand you.

“And I don’t make you feel wanted?”

“Not when I walk in on you fucking someone who hates me, no. Not particularly.” You look away from him, before you do something stupid, like cry, which is a very real possibility whenever you think about what you saw, what you heard.

“Guess I need to change that.”

His hand drops from the wall, the other one releasing your throat as he leans in and devours your unsuspecting lips in a kiss. It’s desperate and angry and hungry, but you cling to him, your fury and your need pouring into it as he lifts you up, carries you across the room and into your room.

You pull him down on top of you, not letting go when he sets you down on the mattress, kisses still full of fury and rage but of something else, too, something you’ve been holding back for far too long.

“Still can’t believe you let my goddamn brother touch you.” Joel growls it into the soft skin of your throat, grinding his cock against you, your clothes still in the way.

You shove your skirt up, hands finding his belt. He catches your wrists in one hand.

“Were you this fucking eager for him, too?”

There’s that dark glint in his eyes again, possessive and jealous, even though he started this, even though he knows that really, he has no right to be angry. It doesn’t stop him.

“Does it matter, Joel? You really think I’d have done it if you’d just fucking…”

“Just what, sweetheart?” He releases your wrists, only because he needs his hand to tear your panties down, cup your bare cunt in his rough hand.

“Just fucking admitted you wanted me first!” You snap at him, grinding yourself against his hand in spite of your temper.

“Yeah, well. We all make mistakes, don’t we?” He plunges two fingers knuckle deep into your cunt, effectively stopping you from answering with anything but a strangled moan.

Your hands tear at his belt, yank his jeans down, your hand wrapping around the length of him. Fuck, he’s big, bigger than his brother, thick and hard and dripping pre cum, all for you, all because of you, because in spite of how angry he is, he still wants you.

Just as you want him, your cunt aching and dripping onto his fingers as he fucks you with them, hard and fast and punishing.

“I should make you suck my cock, refuse to touch you; but if I do that, what’s to say you won’t go and whore yourself out to someone else?”

His words are dark, gaze feral as he looks down, watches his fingers disappear inside you.

“Better I just take you, ruin you for anyone else. You won’t want anyone else when I’m done with you, it’ll be nothing in comparison.” He leans in and bites your throat, right above your collarbone.

“Is that right?” Your hand strokes him roughly; you can feel how needy you are for him, feel yourself tightening around his fingers but it’s not enough, you need more.

“Don’t fucking push me, sweetheart.” He growls it, drags his fingers out of you, presses them to your mouth.

Automatically you part your lips, suck on his thick, rough fingers until they’re coated in your saliva rather than your slick, your eyes on him the entire time.

He groans, a sound that’s still closer to a growl than a moan.

“Fuck sake…” he’s still furious with you, that fury coming back tenfold at the lewd way you suck his fingers, as if they were his cock.

“This how you sucked him off?”

“I don’t know,” you challenge, “are you gonna fuck me like you fucked her?”

He glares at you, and for a moment you’re afraid he’ll pull away, that you’ve pushed him too far.

He does the opposite, moves so fast you can’t keep up, lines himself up and slams into you, every inch of his cock pressing deep. You scream out for him, half in pleasure, half in surprise.

Fuck, he’s so big it hurts, you feel so full you’re not certain you can take him, but he doesn’t care, doesn’t give you any time to adjust, one hand bracing himself on the mattress, the other gripping your waist to pull you onto his cock, over and over until your back arches off the bed.

“No,” he growls in answer to your question, “I’m gonna fuck you like you deserve.”

He’s relentless, pounding into you like you’re the only thing keeping him tethered to this world, rough and hard, growling against your skin the entire time, covering every bit of exposed skin with bite marks and bruises.

“Joel…” it comes out half squeal, half moan as he hitches your leg higher around his waist, gets deeper inside you.

“That’s it, sweetheart, can feel how needy you are for me. Don’t think you’ll ever want anyone else, huh?”

You shake your head, mute except for mewls and sighs of pleasure, your nails digging into his arms, trying to hold on, but unable to think straight, barely able to see or focus.

“That’s what I thought, baby, gonna get you so fuckin’ addicted to my cock you’ll forget all about anyone else. This sweet pussy is all mine.”

Fuck, he wishes he’d done this sooner, wishes he’d avoided this entire fucking debacle, because he’s afraid it’ll always hang between you now, unless he fucks you so hard you forget.

“Already was, Joel, always been yours…” you moan it out for him, fingers finding the sweat damp curls of his hair and tugging, hard.

He moans, a deep, guttural sound that you immediately commit to memory, the sound alone making your cunt throb around him.

“Oh, you like that, baby? You like hearing what you do to me?” He shakes his head, grinds into you slowly before resuming his relentless pace.

“Fuck, Joel, I’m gonna…”

Oh, he knows. He can feel you fluttering around him, tight little hole becoming even tighter as he fucks you, leans down and presses a searing kiss to your mouth before he pulls out of you.

You whine at the loss, but before you can say anything else he has you flipped onto your front, face buried in the mattress, ass in the air as he slams back into you, both hands on your waist as he fucks you so hard you see stars.

There’s no holding back, not anymore, your hands clawing at the mattress as your eyes roll back slightly from the pleasure, feeling yourself tighten painfully around him before your climax hits, hard and fast, washing over your entire body, leaving you shaking beneath him, screaming his name loud enough that the entire goddamn building can hear.

“That’s fucking right baby, you scream for me. You tell everyone that you’re mine.” He yanks your hair back, holds you upright as he ruts into you, thrusts becoming more and more sloppy and erratic with each movement.

“Every fuckin’ inch of you is mine, you hear me?”

“Yours, Joel, all yours…” you moan it for him, still on the high of your climax, entire body over stimulated.

“That’s goddamn right.” He slams in deep once more, one final time, grinds against you as he cums, fills your tight little pussy with hot ropes of his spend, groaning the entire time.

He stays there for a moment, catches his breath before he pulls out of you, flops down beside you.

There’s a moment’s pause, where you aren’t sure whether you’ll still see rage in his eyes if you look at him. Aren’t sure whether he’ll see it in you, either.

He saves you having to look, answers the unasked question by pulling you into his arms, holding you tight against his chest.

“I’m so-“

“Don’t.” You reach up to touch your hand to his lips. “Don’t be. I should be the one apologising.”

“I think we both owed each other an apology, to be honest.” Joel says finally, “though, uh… maybe that was a good start?”

You laugh, lean into him.

“Skip the apology and go straight for the makeup sex, huh?”

Joel smirks, presses a kiss to your forehead.

“Oh, darling. That wasn’t the makeup sex. That was the I’m fucking furious sex. You’ll like the makeup sex a whole lot more.”

Smirking yourself, you roll on top of him, lean down so you can press a kiss to his mouth.

“I like the sound of that. How do I sign up for it?”

“You promise we won’t touch anyone else. Ever.”

You press a long, heated kiss to his parted lips.

“Easy enough for me.”

“Good.” Another smirk before he rolls you, pinning your smaller frame beneath him. “I fucked you like I hated you. Now you’re gonna find out how I fuck when I love you.”

You just whimper, wrap your fingers into his curls and drag him into another kiss. It’s going to be a long night.

#my writing #joel miller #the last of us #tommy miller #pedro pascal #joel miller x reader #Tommy Miller x reader #joel miller smut #tommy miller smut #pedro pascal character fic #tommy miller x you #joel miller x you

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hoshigray · 1 year

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Now look here, it's sugardaddy! x sugar baby! reader time >>:3 So here's the rundown: the reader is a college senior who works part-time in a diner and finds out that their favorite customer, Toji, is a sugar daddy and wants to initiate courtship. Although it is a proposition you fail to see yourself saying no to, is this something you can see yourself being in the long run?

A/n: This prompt was picked on a poll to celebrate getting over 50 followers, only for me to get to 100 right after!!?? Y'all...can I give you a hug? ;w; No, oh okay. Anyways, I won't make another poll, BUT I'll be opening thirsts/requests soon!! >:D I just gotta make myself a disclaimer list before we let those lil fantasies of yours fly, lol. But yeah, this is my first time posting a fic over 1k+, so I hope y'all like it. Also, bonus: there's art drawn by Moi (@hoshigaby)?? You'll have to scroll down to find it tho :33 Okay, I'm sorry, go ahead and read!!!

Cw: soft dom! Toji x fem! reader - implied age gap (the reader is in their early 20s, Toji's around early or mid-30s) - mating press - cervix fucking - oral (fem! receiving) - pussy drunk Toji - breeding - daddy kink - overstimulation (fem! receiving) - pet names (baby, babygirl, darlin', good girl, honey, kid/kiddo, mama, princess, sweetie, sweetheart) - praise - clitoral play (Toji pinches your clit) - reader isn't a virgin but, it's the first time you and Toji have sex.

Wc: 4.9k

"Oh look, your favorite is here."

10 o'clock, it's closing time. All the servers and bussers are ready to buss down tables and sweep the floors, hosts at the front split up tips and head straight home, and the cooks clean the kitchen and throw out the trash. All there's left is the silence of the dining area, where not a single customer is in sight.

Well, minus the one Utahime points out to you.

You turn to the bar area, where almost all the tables are empty, and all the high-rise televisions are turned off. All but for one, which was showing a football game.

A man is watching the screen, sitting in a booth at the far end with a glass of beer on the table. He's wearing a black turtleneck covered with a denim jacket, white fur on the collar, and a silver chain contrasting the black clothing. You gaze downwards to his black jeans pants, where his left foot seems to be tapping the ground. He's waiting for someone.

Once his eyes catch your approaching figure, his deadpanned face shows a smile in recognition. He was waiting for you.

And you smile back as you walk towards him.

The familiarity with this man comes from a year working at the diner. His name is Toji Fushiguro, and he's been a regular even before you started working here. And to make things funnier, he was the first customer you served after a week and a half of training. You can recall when you accidentally put milk and sugar in his specifically requested black coffee, to which you apologized profusely ("Heh, it's alright, darlin'" He flashed a smile that was meant to reassure you. "The first time that's ever happened to me.").

It was there that you found yourself being the only person that's served him. At first, you thought of it as some sort of joke after the coffee mishap, but now, unless you're there to take his order, he'll only have a beer or black coffee with all the other servers. The crew often pokes fun at you, stating you're the older man's favorite. And you gotta admit, it makes your heart swoon knowing this is true.

"There she is," Toji watches you approach him with his foot finally stopped tapping the checkered floor beneath him. "My adorable lil' server."

You giggle as you sit on the cushioned booth seat across from him. "It's good to see you, Mr. Fushiguro. I hope life's been good for you." You wave goodbye to the guy behind the bar counter, who turns off the TV still on as Toji focuses on something else. You promised to be the last person to turn off the lights and lock the doors before leaving, so now it's just you and Toji.

"I thought I told you to drop the Mr. Fushiguro, kid." He reprimands you with his playful smile, the right corner of his lip quirking his scar upward. "And I could ask you the same thing. How's college goin', darlin'?"

An exaggerated sigh leaves your system. "It's going alright. Can't believe I'm about to be done after the next semester, but the senioritis hasn't hit me too strong yet, thank God. And I can't wait to graduate with all this debt on my back~!" You flash the fakest beaming smile with two thumbs up.

Toji chuckles at your fraud enthusiasm. "Mmmm, I bet. But I know you're smarter than me and most people who work for me, so I'm sure you'll do just fine."

"Yeah, I'd like to think so, too." Your chipper attitude dwindles, and Toji notices the change in tone.

"What's up? You don't think you'll get yourself a job?"

"Umm, well," You cough to clear your throat from awkwardness. "I tried signing up for plenty of internships. Some of them shut me down, others just haven't replied back. And I guess it's just me overthinking, but I worry that I won't get a job in something I like..."

"Aww, princess," Toji rises from his cushioned spot to move to your side, sitting close to you with his big jean-covered thigh brushing yours. He places a hand on your back to rub comforting circles. "That's just the thoughts in your head."

You groan into your hands. "I know, that's why I don't know why I'm beating myself up about it so much... But it's okay! I know I'll be fine because I still have this job keeping me going for a year."

Toji raises a brow. "You wanna be a server all your life? Wanna serve me my black coffee and BLT sandwich til my last breath?"

You hit his chest in amusement. "Well, no, but if it comes down to it, I don't mind. I'll just take up more jobs or maybe make a side hustle. Either way, I know Mei Mei will help me out. I'm sure everyone here will if they have the chance."

"I could also help you."

Your hands instantly go up defensively. "No, Mr. Fushiguro, I wouldn't want that! I'm sure you're pretty busy, and I don't want my troubles to burden you."

Toji's eyebrows knit together, his sharp eyes surveying your defensive stance. "It wouldn't be trouble if I'm the one offerin' to help you, honey."

"Yes, but even so..." You look at your lap as your fingers dance with each other to ease your anxiousness. "It would feel unbefitting to have a customer — a valuable one such as you — to help me with my financial problems. Seeing you smile at me when I serve you your coffee...I'm perfectly content with just."

Your gaze locks into your fidgety fingers, saying the last part was probably unnecessary. Yet it was true; Toji had always been patient with you whenever he stopped by, even going the extra mile by giving you a seriously generous tip after his meals. You know you didn't deserve it, but he's already at the door before you can argue with him. If his gracious action was just a mere small percent of what he could do, then he's done plenty for you than needed.

Toji, however, didn't see it that way. He hums as he leans back onto the booth seat, his hand now snaking to the back of your neck, his thumb caressing the nook of your neck and trapezius.

"Well," He breaks the silence, you're listening. "What if we take this outside of customer service?"

The brows are pulled together as you turn to him in slight confusion. "What do you mean by that?"

"I've been thinking for quite a while," with his hand maneuvering to rest on your shoulder, he sighs and straightens himself up. "Your manager, Mei Mei, right? I talked with her not too long ago, telling her how much of a hard worker you are and how even while still in school and suffering with assignments, you still smile and make sure the customers enjoy their time here."

You give him a thanks, and he continues on. "Which is why I told her about what I wanna do. So here's my proposition: I'll pay for everything for you. Your debt, bills, clothes, whatever it is your pretty lil' head is worryin' 'bout."

Toji's promise does sound comforting to the ears, but you think about your part in all this. "So, do I have to work for you?"

He chuckles. "No, baby, not working fr' me. But there is something I want you to do."

"Yes?"

Toji doesn't give you a clear answer, staring at your face with a soft smile. You wonder why he's being odd until his face leans forward, and the hand on your shoulder pushes you into a kiss. You let out a yelp into his mouth, but the shock diminishes once you succumb to his warm, intoxicating lips. He tastes like beer, definitely from his drink.

He removes his lips from you, and you faintly exhale in an unsteady breath. "Mmmm, yer too much fr' me, sweetie." Toji groans and kisses down your neck while you place a hand on his chest to grip his turtleneck for support before you dissolve into his arms. And although you shouldn't be at your work at this time of night doing this, it felt too good to end.

"I want you to be with me," Toji says in-between smooches on your neck, moving to paint the other side with his pecks. "You're so good to me, darlin', always being such a good girl." He nibbles on your clavicle, and a soft gasp rewards his eardrums. "Lemme take care of you, y/n."

All that's going through your head is the feeling of his lips on your body and the arousing throbbing sense happening in your nether core.

"Hmm, whaddya say, baby?" His lips are too close to your ear as he playfully bites the lobe. Your thighs rub against one another, and you know there's a wet spot in your panties. "Gonna be my perfect girl?"

If you don't give him an answer quick, you're bound to melt right on this seat, and being a whimpering mess to his touch is embarrassing enough.

"Haaaah...Y-yes," You finally answer in weak whispers, mind spinning and eyes glossy. "I wanna—Ahaaa...I wanna be yours."

You can feel Toji's lips curl into a smile. He lifts his head to look at you, and a hand comes up to cup your face before he gives you a soft kiss on your quivering lips.

"My good girl."

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A few months have passed since you and Toji formed this new relationship. And getting used to certain things is still a challenge.

For one: covering up your new lifestyle is never easy when you're out with people you know. During winter break, you went to dinner with your friends and offered to pay for the whole table. They looked at you as if you were talking nonsense ("Girl, where the hell you get that kind of money to be covering for all of us?" "For real, is this the same diner you've been working at? Are they hiring?").

Another thing that wasn't easy to get accustomed to was Toji spoiling you. Since you're a college student, Toji only sees you every other weekend when he has time. During those days, Toji doesn't hold back in showering you with gifts and affection. Between the fancy dates in expensive restaurants, riding rides at fun amusement parks, or the bags of new clothes you bring back to your dorm, it was something you didn't expect to happen so quickly. Your roommates constantly tease you about this "mystery man" who makes it known you're his special lady.

But outside of that, the most significant change was you and Toji. To say you two got closer was too easy to put into words. Sure, the money was there, so you could finally get a good night's rest without worrying too much about your school debt or bills. However, you knew this went beyond the dollar bills and the fancy clothes.

Come to find out, Toji knows and remembers things that amaze you. There was a time he bought you a whole wardrobe worth of dresses because he remembered you had to cancel dates with your friends since you had nothing cute to wear. Or the time he got you a box of your favorite teas, even though you briefly mentioned them to him during a talk way back from recollection.

And even away from the materialistic things, you can feel how much Toji loves you. You can feel it in his eyes whenever he's looking at you. You can feel it when you try to argue yourself out of trying an outfit you don't think will be good on you, but Toji coaxes you into it because he knows — not thinks, knows you'll look good wearing it. You can feel it in his hands when they hold yours, when he places a hand on your thigh and rubs it in loving warmth, or when he caresses your cheek when he kisses you goodbye when you two have to return to your own lives.

It's a type of love you didn't see yourself being on the other end of. The more immersed you are, the harder it is to imagine yourself out of it.

Spring break is now upon us, and Toji has invited you to join him overseas for a business trip. You tried to decline, saying it's his trip and you don't want to intrude on his business. That argument was immediately shut down ("Tch, believe me, sweetheart, you're saving me from bashing someone's head in if you're close to me than not. Plus, I wanna see you wear that cute swimsuit I got you."), so he dragged you on his private jet, and now we're here.

During the day is when he's away for work, so you spend the morning either in the penthouse suite you two are staying in, outside taking pictures to show Toji later or looking around at the little shops nearby. Toji is done with work around the early afternoon, so you two spend time together exploring the country, trying new foods, and taking walks around the area while talking about how your day went until the sun goes down.

Everything goes well until Thursday when Toji texts you saying something happened at work and that he'd be at the suite later than usual. Well, it's 7:45, the sun is starting to go down, and Toji is still nowhere in sight. I hope everything is alright on his end.

You're unsure about going outside for a walk on the off-chance you stay out too late. And if something happens to you while Toji isn't close by, that'll give him more to worry about on his plate, and you definitely don't want that for him.

So, you look around the penthouse to see if there's anything to keep you occupied until Toji's return, and then what catches your eye is the swimming pool outside on the terrace which you haven't tried yet. That'll do!

You go to change into a swimsuit, a cute two-piece that Toji bought for you when you two went shopping together. After a quick shower, you enter the pool and enjoy the calm waters while watching the sunset, leaving a beautiful array of colors painting the sky over you.

Tomorrow is your last day here while Toji will do business, and then you're back to school on Monday. The fact that you'll be graduating debt free still blows your mind. Toji really fulfilled his promise and took care of your worries.

Is that to say that your relationship ends once you touch that diploma?

You lift your feet and lay on your back to allow the water to hold you up, ears covered in the water and face looking into the sky as you're lost in your thoughts.

It wouldn't be too far off if Toji wanted to close this whole thing off when you graduate, as the point was for you to not worry about debt and such. That much you understood from the very beginning. But what happens after that? Do you two just go back to being acquaintances that only meet at the diner? And what about the stuff he got you? Do they stay with you forever? And do you have to fight memories of him every time you see them?

What about all the touches, all the hand-holding, all the cuddles, and all the kisses? Are they supposed to mean nothing to you the next time you see his face?

You're thankful for the water keeping you afloat in the pool, but having these thoughts attack your brain just makes you want to sink in loathing.

Until you feel something tickle your feet, having your body react in a state of panic. No longer floating on your back, you search for whatever is torturing your feet. Only to find Toji in front of you wearing black trunks, he chuckles lowly, and your heart sinks in embarrassment.

"T-Toji," You swim up to greet him. "How long were you back from work?"

"For about 10 minutes," He watches you move through the water, following you to sit in the shallow part of the pool for you two to talk. "I saw you in the pool and thought I'd join. I tried callin' out to ya, but the water was blocking your ears."

"Hehe, sorry about that. I was thinking about something. How was work?"

His face went into a deep scowl with rolled eyes, and you giggle at his nonverbal response. "Had I not known I was comin' back here to see you, I'd probably fucked that rookie up."

"That bad?"

He hums and brings you closer to him with his hand on your shoulder. "But don't worry 'bout it. And you? What were you thinking about?"

"Hmm? Oh, it was nothing," your encouraging response is fictitious.

Toji lowers a brow. "Try again."

"No, honest! It was nothing, Toji."

"Don't make me tickle you again, kiddo." You freeze and look at his face. His sharp gaze and slight grin speak for themselves about his seriousness.

A sigh is withdraw from your lips. "I was just thinking about how I'd be leaving on Saturday and being halfway done with my senior year of college."

"And?"

"And, uhh," You gulp and avert your eyes to your lap, your fingers swaying with the pool water. "I was also thinking about me... and you?"

There's silence, the lack of response eating you alive. Then you feel Toji's hand grip your shoulder.

"Are you scared I won't be with you after you graduate?"

He hit the nail because you don't answer for a few seconds. Your eyes still avoid him.

But Toji still persists. "Do you not want to be with me?"

Your head turns to face him in haste, taking you aback at how fast you were. "No! I don't want this to end. I'm grateful for how close you and I have become. I want... I want..." You fall silent once more as your head moves back to your lap as if you'd find the words you want to express lying there.

Using his free hand, Toji grabs your chin to look his way again. "What do you want, baby? Use your words fr' me."

The intense gaze of his jade-green eyes captures your attention, practically daring you to look away from him. The warmth of your cheeks spreads around your face, and you gulp before answering.

"I really appreciate all that you've done for me. And I...I really like you, Toji. I want to be with you." His face doesn't change as you ramble on, causing you to move your eyes to avoid the awkward stare. "But I wouldn't blame you if you want to stop with where we—"

Your sentence was interrupted by Toji's kiss, and a squeak was suppressed between the two lips. You exhale in bliss as your hands find purchase on his solid chest. He deepens the kiss when his hand is posted at the back of your neck.

You break the kiss to breathe, Toji's gruff chuckles fills the warm air.

"You're too adorable, princess. Do you really think I'd want to let my precious girl away from my sight?" You open your mouth to interject, but Toji lifts your hand and brings it to his lips, kissing each knuckle. "Listen here, darlin'. I didn't offer to take care of your debt on a whim. I adore the fuckin' shit out of you, and I was gonna wait til your graduation to ask if you'd still want this thing to be official."

"But now that I hear you're interested," his big hand holds yours, fingers intertwined as his thumb brushes your forefinger. "Are ya up for it?"

You breathe slowly to ease your heart, beating at an irregular tempo. You grip his hand in return and offer a sheepish smile.

"Yes. I'd like that very much, Toji."

He smirks and kisses your cheek. "Good girl." Toji has his arms placed behind your back and under your legs. Then he stands up while picking up your figure bridal style. He grins hard when you squeal in surprise as your arms sling around his neck.

"Let's shower," he walks out of the pool and into the suite. "And then afterward, I'll show you how much I've been itchin' to make you be my girl for real."

The heat on your face grows tenfold, and Toji barks a laugh when you hide your face. You can only mentally pray for yourself for what's to come.

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That little prayer did absolutely nothing!

Now you're lying on the bed nude and wet from the shower as the water droplets on your body slide down to the satin sheets beneath you. Your hands cover your mouth, trying to suppress the moans and sobs from exiting your lips.

And the cause of this is the man currently nestled between your legs. You can see the raven hair between your inner thighs, but you feel a wet muscle lapping around your vulva. The lewd noises of Toji eating you out fill the room and has you writhing in discomfort, and you try to slowly move your lower region away from his ravaging mouth.

"Aht aht, you're not goin' anywhere, mama." Toji's rough hands grip your waist and pull you back down, his nose brushing your clit as you jerk upwards. He lifts his head to look at you, and the image of your slick smeared all over his mouth and chin almost makes you faint.

"Put those hands down, baby. Let Daddy hear that sweet voice of yours." He uses one hand to play with your pussy, middle and forefinger abuse your inner lips as his thumb grinds down on your sweet bud. Your eyes shoot up for the stars, and you're forced to do what he says, hands gripping the sheets while your cries are out for him to hear.

"Aahhhh!! Haaah, T-Toji!! 'S too much, too—Ooohh!" His tongue returns between your cunt, licking and tasting the sticky fluid coating your pussy. Your eyes are watering, your mind starts to feel dizzy, and your legs can't stay still to save your life. He's been doing this for 15 minutes!!

You clutch his hair and wail out his name in pleasure, earning a moan from Toji as his grip on your thighs gets tighter.

He can tell you're close to finishing, so he helps you. His tongue slides from your wet center to your clitoris, licking and sucking on the extremely sensitive bud, his teeth lightly pressing down on the pearl.

Your release comes instantly, and your walls spasm as you cry in pure euphoria. Your head pushed deep into the pillow below you, letting your body finish reacting to the climax. However, Toji doesn't wait for you when his mouth drinks your essence. His tongue attacked your sore velvety walls, having you gasp for air.

When he's done, he finally withdraws from between your legs and kneels before you, taking in your disheveled figure. Your tear-stricken face and hooded eyes peer up at him as he wipes his face of your excess come, licking the rest from the back of his hand.

Toji snickers hoarsely. "Sorry, sweetheart, you tasted so fuckin' good I couldn't help myself. Besides," you watch his hands trail down to his dick as he places himself on your messy vagina. "Gotta get you prepped up fr' me."

He puts a pillow under your lower back to raise your hips more. Seeing his dick for the first time has you in mental turmoil. Toji notices you looking and sneers, pulling your hips to him so his balls practically kiss your opening, his dick on full display on your lower abdomen. The girth alone has your cunt pulsating in anticipation, and good God, the length of that thing. It's not the first dick you've seen in your life, but it's definitely the biggest challenge you've come across.

I hope those 15 minutes of prep were enough.

You come back to your senses when you feel the tip of his hefty member circling the corners of your folds, and your slick aids him as a lubricant.

"Ready, babygirl?" You exhale a nervous breath and nod for confirmation. "Okay, we're gonna start real slow."

Toji began to push the tip in, your folds being spread open to accommodate the foreign object intruding into your tight hole. You close your eyes and hold your breath, the pain worsening by the second. You take one breath, and Toji pushes further. With another breath, he goes further. Another-

A giant gasp takes over you as the tip of Toji's cock enters you. And Toji takes his time pushing himself further into you, using every fiber of his being not to rut into your tight walls off the jump.

"Haaah, hmmm, oh fuck," That's easier said than done with you gripping onto him like your life depended on it. Once he's pushed his whole cock into you, your words come out as a babbling mess, gripping his arms for support. He looks down at your disarranged self, chuckling at such a wonderful sight. "You look really fuckin' sexy layin' under me, baby."

"God...Toji," Tears stream down your cheeks, wincing at the pain down south. "'S too muuu-ch, too big for—Hnnngh!!" A sudden thrust of the hips has you biting down on your bottom lip.

"C'mon now, I thought I told you about that. I already let it slide once or twice." Toji places your legs on his shoulders and leans close to you, his body weight adding onto yours as the base of his cock grinds into your sex. "What's my new name, mama?"

"Ah!! I'm sorry, Daddy." The title comes through sobs.

Toji grins from ear to ear, wiping your tears with his calloused fingers. "Good girl," he kisses your forehead as you adjust to his girthy length. "So fuckin' pretty fr' Daddy." He takes your lips with his soft ones before moving his hips in a slow yet rough rhythm.

The mating press has your body submit to him, taking in his cock as it sinks deep into your swollen core. And it only gets worse when his pace gets faster, hitting your sweet spots accurately. At this rate, you're bound to cum earlier than necessary.

Then you feel his tip abruptly touch your cervix, and the wail you let out is picked up by Toji's ears. "Oh? Think I found what I was lookin' for." His hips grind deep in you, his tip abusing your poor cervix to the point you speak in tongues. "Feelin' good, princess?"

"Fuck, Daddyyyy, please, I'm-Ahaaah, Ohhh!" His irrational pace has your brain turning to mush, his cock bullying your insides. The sound of his balls slapping against your squelching folds has you squeezing him harder. "I'm gonna cu-cumm!!"

Toji hisses into your ear, the tone of his voice dominating your senses. "Oooooh, don't grip on me like that, sweetie. Gonna end up — Mmmph! Shit, shit, shit, shit...Gonna give you a baby."

You reach to cup his face through watery eyes glazed in a haze. "Please, Daddy, I want it," You know you're talking nonsense, but why care when you're feeling this fucking good. "Inside, I want it, inside!"

"Heh, be careful with what you wish for, mama." He kisses you again as his hips become erratic, and he moves a hand to your clit and pinches it, whining into your mouth when you're cunt clutches onto him one final time.

You cum around his cock and push your head back on the pillows, your gushy walls spasming around his length, prompting Toji to cum inside you after a few more thrusts. You two moan into each other's mouths, riding each other's high until your bodies calm down.

The two of you pant heavily once the kiss is broken apart, and his deep emerald orbs take in your dazed expression. He smiles when he notices drool on the side of your mouth, using a thumb to wipe it off for you.

"My sweet darlin'," Toji kisses your cheek and sighs deeply into your embrace. "You're too good fr' me, baby."

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"Did I say that I want your babies?"

You're resting with Toji, your head relaxed on his chest as you sit between his legs. The television in the bedroom plays an episode of a sitcom, anything for you two to look at and enjoy a moment of peace together.

He snickers at your question, his chest rising and falling as you lay on him feels nice. "Yeah, you kinda did."

"Wow, that sex must've screwed something up in my head."

"Yeah, my dick had you wanting to risk it all." He snorts when you playfully hit his arm. "Don't worry, we can find some plan b in the morning."

Turning to face Toji, still watching TV, you furrow your brows. "We? What about work?"

"I have tomorrow off. It's your last day, and I don't feel like going back to work, or else I'll be sour all fuckin day. Much rather spend it with you than with some morons."

You look at Toji for a little longer before you smile and kiss his cheek, catching the older man off guard as you nestle into his warm body. "Thank you, Toji. For everything."

The thanks carry a deeper meaning. Not a single ounce of doubt clouds your mind now that you've gotten the closure you wanted. Thinking about how your life brought you to this moment, you're happy with your decision to pursue this relationship and more. And it's thanks to this man for making it possible.

Toji still stares at you before he scoffs and kisses your temple.

"No problem, kiddo."

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yandere-kokeshi · 7 months

Text

— His Mate

Pairing || Yandere werewolf! Ghost x gn reader

Summary || Working on a dangerous mission, you and Ghost re-meet after being separated. However, something goes wrong— making Ghost reveal his trust identity and his obsession for you, to come forth.

Warnings || yandere, lycropathy, imprinting(?), and smut: dubcon, gender-neutral genitals, descriptions of the reader having pubic hair, talks about kids, size difference, blood obsession(?), oral (reader receiving), breeding, knotting, and slight somnophilia

It’s a dire situation.

To the explosions, nearly being hit by a bullet, and now being separated from 141 during the firefight, you’d navigate north to a safe house, rather a cabin dispatched amongst the coms you’d flipped too.

The language was hardly understandable, but you were able to pick up some words.

It’s freezing cold, the gush of rain pouring down on you as lightning cracks above your head. Gear soaked through, hair damp and covered in likely blood and mud; if not more. The moisture and ice surrounding you was working to create a deep freeze into your narrow bones, and it’s working– pretty damn well, too.

Mud splatters your camo-clad shins as you sprint through the forest terrain, heart lurching out of your chest as your soaked fingers fumbled with your gun to the sodden ground.

The moist and crispy air of midnight caked your face with frozen lids, blood staining your face. Your lungs were burning, legs cramping and stinging from the amount of running you’ve achieved.

You continue going, thunder rumbling in the clouds above, exhaustion gnaws at your joints as you shoot and cut-throat enemies from behind, their thick blood staining your face, and hands. Creating an emotionless barrier; nothing behind your eyes but annoyance.

If it weren’t for your radio, you’d be pestering Ghost. But due to the stray bullet, that certainly would’ve ripped through your heart if not for the layers of plastic settled over it, you had to count on your distance and not for help.

Just a little more, and you’ll arrive. And from there, you can focus on radioing the team; shooting a private message to Ghost to ensure your safety. He was protective, after all. But, for now, you had too—

Crack.

Before you could react, chaos erupts — the sounds of trees cracking down as an explosion comes from behind you. The wave of warmth and smell of gunpowder settled into your lungs. A bomb had gone off.

Panicked voices overlay each other in different languages. The thumps of bodies and flurry of shouts shot you to your very core. Breathing heavily, adrenaline coursing through your veins, you find yourself hiding behind a sturdy tree.

The bark cutting at your palms, a reminder of the unforgiving chaos that surrounds you as you brace for incoming fire. Instantly, you gripped the gun slung behind your shoulder and started reloading it; cursing at yourself for not doing it sooner.

As it clicked, ready and loaded, someone shouted out a name.

“Ghost!” someone wails, and your blood runs cold, eyes widening. The whizzing of high-powered bullets persists, dropping mercenaries into the mud beneath them.

You hear yelled orders, fighters urged to retreat by the incoming deaths, like a poison parade.

Before you know it, all that’s left is the sound of your ears buzzing, the aftermath of the familiar bomb — the infinite number of trees swaying as more lightning struck ahead of you. Your brain was splattered, focusing on your inner voice instead of the upcoming footsteps.

“Cobra, come out.”

You hesitate, teeth digging into your bottom lip. But with the thick, British accented voice familiarized to your brain, you eased your head out, clenching your grip on the gun as you checked for any more enemies before your eyes landed on the man itself. His hulking build that you could recognize anywhere.

You’d be lying if you said you were unperturbed by the sight, fallen enemy combatants surrounded him, his gear covered in blood, as was his skull mask stained with gore.

It was considered normal — but with the moon outlining his silhouette, the light bouncing off the turbid forest floor behind him, it was intimidating.

Almost as if it was a warning about what was coming. What was ahead in the future.

“Price sent me your last coordinates before you went AWOL,” Ghost states, clearing his throat as he bent down. Knees loudly popping as his hand curled around the knife, deepened inside a soldier’s head, and pulled it out with a thick sound.

The gush of gore, and the slick sound of the knife easily coming out, made you cringe. Your throat tightened, you wanted to gag but stopped yourself as he shot a look at you.

“Left quite a mess back there,” he added, looking at you with sharpened eyes as he stood back up. His knees popping yet again. His gun shuffled as he wiped the bloody knife onto his pant leg, before putting it back into the original place.

You forced a smile, shrugging your shoulders playfully, “It’s what I’m best at, no?”

He let out a chuckle, something that wasn’t rare or common to hear. But it was something. Something that left you tingling.

He stayed quiet and looked at you — almost like he could see, and feel you. Though, he spoke up after noticing your awkward stance.

“Le’s get going, safe house is ahead. From there, I’ll radio Price.”

Staring into the bubbling pan of water settled over the small fire, you relish in warmth that creeps across your chilled body. Still, you’re soaked, the scent of iron and mud assaults your nose, the water that you pick off the fire cautiously heated enough to scrub the blood off your face and hands.

Though, as you look up at Simon, you quickly notice his demeanor is off; something amiss. Sure, he’s cold. But, he’s colder – brown eyes that are seemingly covered in nothing. Almost like something has taken over him, nothing of him is there; non-exist, and non-recognizable.

His distant and blocking agency seems somewhat peculiar – lost in thought, intermittently clicking his tongue whilst cleaning his gun. Concerned, you gently approach, offering a caring inquiry: “You okay?” you ask.

To which, he nods with a grunt. But you didn’t buy it, it was clear something was bothering him. But he’s known for being stubborn and not one to let people in unless necessary.

Ghost had seated himself in the corner of the large, relatively empty room – looking quite ridiculous. He was attempting to fit himself in the short-legged chair as he was cleaning his weapons, and you had to hold back a laugh. You dipped the dripping rag back into the hot water, dragging it across your skin.

“Y’know…” you started, making him stop before looking up at you. “You can tell me whatever is botherin’ you. I’m not like Johnny.”

“I’m fine.”

You raised your eyebrow at his reply, making him grunt as a less efficient, threatening way of ‘quit it before I make you’.

“Are you sure?” You pressed on, “It definitely seems like something is on your mind. And while I may not—”

Ghost said your name in a threatening tone. His brown eyes watching you from beneath the mask. Eyes boring into you, watching you struggle to remove what was left of the grime and gore that failed to wash away.

You sighed, and puckered out your lips like a duck, “Whatever you say, Mr. Grumpy-pants.”

Minutes blurred by you, and before you know it, the small fire had set itself out; embers flickering around as that was the only thing keeping you two sane. You groaned, looking behind you the next minute before standing up.

“Going to get more wood,” you say out loud, and Simon had nodded — letting yourself feel a bit more relieved before your hand barely curled at the knob, and it’s when you heard it; the most guttural sound that sounded like a blend of a growl and snarl.

He said your name in a painful whisper. Not your code name– your right name.

As you turn, you see him on his knees; his large hand grasping his chest. Heart attack? No. Something highly on not happening. But… panic attack?

“Ghost?” you asked, concerned, stepping forward before stopping at his shaking head. He was in pain and it was hurting you.

“Fuck—” he grunted, heaving as his body started to shake violently. “D-on’t come closer.”

Your eyebrows raise automatically, looking at him eerily. “Why can’t I get close to you?”

He grunted, moaning out in pain again, as yet another growl erupted from the bellows of his chest. And before you could say anything else, his holster gun fell from his arm to the floor. The sound of clattering and the smell of aforementioned sensed you to reality.

“I- we need to get you up, what’s going on—!”

Almost as if the universe tricked you, ripping came next — the man you knew was no longer there. But instead, a hulking black-wolf took his place, boring holes in you and cracking each bone in his skeleton into places.

Like a Cobra, you stiffened. Ready to attack the friend you once knew.

“Ghost…?” you confessed, heavy breathing as adrenaline shot through you. By the time you whispered his name, he grew in size. Being too large. Too inhuman. Monstrously. Midnight mass fur grew onto his body, the sounds of bones breaking and reforming, his gear tearing off like nothing as scarred ears, a large snout, and patched fur grew all over him like parasites — paralyzing you like venom.

You couldn’t fathom his form, taking a few steps back as he whined out in pain; teeth, once human, now becoming a famous creature that you imagined as a myth.

And these eyes, they were wide and bright as Amber and honey, the color that contrasted greatly through the darkness. They were large and squinted, and the sound of snarling brought you to know you were being threatened.

But yet, you couldn’t do anything.

His military boots outgrew, rising and shredding apart as the feet he once had, turned into paws with long claws. The curving nails scraped into the wooden floor, snapping of planks and splinters flew around his feet, echoing the noises of his cracking bones and whines of pain.

It was practically towering over you, all muscle and height, and it made you feel powerless underneath it, trapped under its hardened gaze and intensity of its possible strength.

You let a small gasp out, uneven breaths being snaked out as he licked his chops, rearing back, bending the wooden-planks and the fallen gun underneath his weight. Turning his canine head at your expression.

“S-imon…?” you whimper, hands shaking as you winced at the bones still cracking.

His large head came down, eyeing you deeply at one side before walking forward, nudging at your leg. The sound you didn’t want to let out was paralyzed by fear, you didn’t want to let him know you were rather scared, as you watched with no knowledge of what he could do next.

He left you no room to move, the fear finally choking you of words. And you could only babble out words that would normally leave you embarrassed.

“Who— what… are you?” your gaze turned to him, reminding yourself that your demand was weak. You knew so, but a bigger part of you was buried in denial. He was Ghost. Still is.

His eyes, once cold, a beautiful brown, and stood on deck, now were sharp and bright with yellow, contrasting so strongly against his scarred, ripped fur and inky shades. His head barely grazed the top of the ceiling, his ears flickering as more bones cracked in place. The snapping and crunching was horrifying.

“Smell– your smell… sweet,” those words fell into your stomach and sank like lead. His whiskered lips and sharp teeth curved around his spotted gums. He growled, smelling– grinning at your feared state, “Mine. You’re mine.”

Before you could think, your feet kicked his chest backwards — he roared, taking a few steps back from your move.

Seconds blurred by you, and right as you lunged toward the door beside you, nearly skinning your knees on the floor, you heard a thick snarl from the beast behind you.

His claws, bigger than your head, were suddenly pinned at your hips and yanked you back, making you face plant onto the floor before he dragged you enough feet away for his satisfaction. Capturing you more into the depth of his hold.

Blood– you tasted it before feeling it, your nose bleeding from the impact, and you groaned; the smell of iron making its way back to you, and he noticed this.

He turned you right-side up, his claws ripping holes in your clothes. You let a small whimper out, as his large head came to nudge at your shoulder. Almost as if he was trying to calm you, showing he wasn’t a threat.

He whined out, taking your quiet frame and heaving breaths as more fear — apologizing for hurting his beloved.

And with that, his warm wet and pink tongue suddenly started lapping at your arm, then your neck and finally a rough lick from your jawline up towards your nose. Starting at, licking up the very same blood that’s coming down your face — nearly suffocating you with his rough texture.

He needed to comfort his mate. His, his, his!

You grimaced at his tongue, the rough black and pink muscle not stopping when you moved side to side, trying to dodge it. Was he now tasting you for taste?

You pushed at its brawny chest to get some space, but he didn’t listen– his rough tongue continuing his assaults. Behind him, you could see glimpses of a tail swinging strongly behind him; the thick tail slightly wagging at your blood.

Fuck. What was he going to do? Rut you? Fill you? Mark you? Kill you?

Suddenly, he growled — earning a gasp from you, as you watched his pupils dilate, his tongue coming out to heave; dried blood on his muscle.

“Don’t mean to scare ya’. Jus’ drivin’ me insane, sweetheart,” he states, licking your jaw one last time before his claws – trying to on being careful – shreds your gear and pants to bits.

You answered with your frozen stiff body, a long wine erupting from the man above you as your teeth chatted one against each other.

“Let… me go, Simon. Now!” you demanded, but his claw rose from your bruised hip and cocked a sharp nail to your chin, making you look up at him; his golden irises digging holes into your soul. Deepening his animal need for you.

“I jus’ got you, I promise I’ll treat you well.” he purred in your ear, licking yet another strip at your face before making his way down to your sex.

“Simon–!”

“You’ll be mine, nobody will take you away from me; fill you full of my cum. Mark you, take care of you. Until I’m satisfied.” he said while lifting your lower body up from the ground, grabbing your ankles to set them beside his head, his hot breath shaking you to your core.

“NO!” you screamed, suddenly snapping back to reality. His ears folded in an angry expression, the sound positively jarring to his sensitive ears. “No– you can’t, no, no! You won’t–!”

His body was heavy, one paw leaning against your stomach to keep you still. You didn’t even realize you were squirming until he applied more weight, earning you a whine that you didn’t even know you could let out until now.

“Mine,” he growled, “That’s what you are,” Simon pressed his wide hips forward, making you feel his cock– his long, swelling hot, and erect cock that was awaiting to be stuffed inside you. His knot pulsing, as if it was begging to feel your taut walls clenching around it.

You shook your head, denying his claims. Denying his appearance. This is a dream, this is a dream. A dream!

But when he tore away your undergarments, flattening his tongue over your fluttering entrance, the sensation caused you to realize —- nothing of this ‘dream’ was fake, but instead of a standing still.

He stuffs his whole snout into your bush and groans. The feeling is alien, his muzzle warm and wet, and you shudder with it. “You smell divine.”

You attempt to swat him away, but to no avail, he growls at your antics, showing his teeth as a warning.

“Tastes good,” he purrs, his deep and raspy voice shuddering you. He started licking long, broad strokes and making unwanted moans escape your lips — fingers digging into your bruised thighs, and his saliva adding to the sensations.

You cry out, bucking your hips into his maw as he grunted– licking up all your juices like his last meal. Walls clamp down on his thick tongue, thrusting it in and out of your hole as you’re subjected to the pleasure.

Though, just as your stomach starts getting warm; your abdomen heating up like a lamp, he pulls away. Making you whine out.

“M’ make you cum in a few.”

Ghost towers over you — his thick structure showing off his heated, non-sheathed cock. Making you realize what he’s referring to as his swollen tip nudges at your entrance; the pulsing heat making you clench your thighs unintentionally.

“Won’t fit–! No. Simon—!”

You cried out as he growled in response, his tongue licking your neck to soothe the oncoming pain. It hurts so bad. Yet so good as he fills you so full.

You prayed he’d be gentle– but you knew better. And in a rough instant, your stomach swelled, and fire consumed you. Air rushed out from your lungs from his thick, girthy cock into your tightening, barely prepped channel, and you quiver in ecstasy at how utterly full you are right now.

The beast, Simon, grunts and heaves; some of his drool drops on your face as he tries to calm you down with him nudging his head into your face.

“Oh– fuck,” you whispered, panting as your teeth bit into your bottom lip.

Simon’s thick paw continued to press on your stomach, hitching out breaths as his cock slowly started to piston in and out of you. “You’d look so pretty, filled with my babies. Getting all swollen and full of my cum.”

He smirked– his thick teeth shining in the dim fire, dragging his tongue up your neck.

“Breed– need to breed you,” he gave a harsh thrust, making you feel the thick part of his cock pushing inside. He let you cry out as your legs curled around his lower hips, tightening your hold as he hit that part.

And without another word, he shoves his cock back out and in, pounding into your soaked hole with animalistic, determination and vigor speed. With Simon being so deep into you, you didn’t even realize you were begging for more, and more.

“Wa—eugh” you gurgled, smearing your tears against his fur as with each slap of the furry balls on his body, he sank further. His fat cock splits you open and makes a mess of sweat, tears, and drool on the wooden floor of the abandoned shack.

It’s too much, too much— it’s too good.

Your walls tighten up around him, making him snarl out, bullying his cock into you at a more rapid pace as he pulls away from your neck; grunting in your ear with promises.

“Fill you with my cum– belly so full. Full of my pups, I promise.”

As if he didn’t nearly split you in half, he took himself almost out; gripping your hips before turning you on your stomach, making you support yourself on your bruised knees as his claws nicked your skin.

He spread apart your ass, plunging back inside, and continuing with his animalistic pace; heaving and snarling above you.

“—plea—god!” your nails scraped at the wood, leaving marks that you didn’t care about. All you cared about was his knot. His, his, his. Everything of his cum. “Fuck–! Knot… Wan’ your knot!”

You babble nonsense, your body growing tired as his knot was slowly getting bigger– creating delicious friction as it rubbed against your inner walls. But, interrupting your soon-to-be climax was Simon coming down, leaning on your lower back for support as he snarled, aggressively nipping at your shoulder before licking the open wound.

You were his — his mate, his to claim in every way.

Without hesitation, he bit on the back of your shoulder. Hard. You cried out, feeling blood trickle down your arm and neck, tears pricking in the corner of your ears. And Simon whined.

He didn’t mean to do that! He was so out of focus on breeding you, he had hurt you. Comfort. He needs to comfort you.

Simon didn’t stop licking– not until he saw that your tears were long gone, and the smell of fear and shock had gone away. But instead, blinding lust and more was demanded.

And you could no longer talk, pain lingering, but pleasure buzzing on the edges of your nerves. Numbing every sensation but the beast within you and blanked the world but him, and his inhuman cock stretching you too big. Time didn’t exist.

Your body grew tense– a white-hot flash washing you whole. Your abdomen was tightening so much it hurt, and then it snapped. And suddenly — everything grew too much.

You cried out, tears forming out of stimulation, but he wasn’t done. You couldn’t think anymore, and after several moments of his vigorous fucking, he howls– his knot expanding painfully, stretching it to unbeknownst size, and his cock twitches violently as he spills inside, the large load obscene within you.

The stretching ended with an audible pop, stuffing you completely as he bucked his hips at your squirming. “G—” you stumbled with the start, “G-get out of me!” you tried elbowing him, pleasure growing to a near painful degree before his claws grabbed your bicep gently.

Then, your stomach felt heavier. It hurts so good, and so hot.

He purred, “Be quiet, honey— m’ filling you real hot.”

He fucks into you for another few, sloppy thrusts before he stops to ‘clean’ you. Nudging you with his wet nose into your neck affectionately,

You’re a proper mess now. The load of cum feels obscene within you, all warm and sticky. He held you against his taut chest, rumbling in a way that felt like a cat purring; somehow soothing you.

His thick claw gripped under your chin, forcing you to look at him as he huffed quietly, “I’ll take real good loving care of ya’ and our lil’ pups.” he jostled you somehow deeper to just the right spot, and you whimpered; quite in a state of being fucked raw by a beast who has it’s knot stuck inside you.

“…are we staying like this?” you asked, looking down, curious and intimidated by the sight below. Mustering some strength, you slid down a tingling hand to support you as Ghost licked your shoulder.

“For a while, I reckon,” you arched your back as his teeth slithered across your beating pulse.

Fuck, a single movement by him has you wanting more. But you’re tired. So, so tired.

You tremble and whimper, feeling his cock still hard — your limbs now coming limp with exhaustion as your eyes roll back into your skull. You’re so tired on Ghost’s monstrously cock that you don't even notice that he lays down with you, cradling your body close to his warm one.

“You’re mine. All mine,” he mutters, feeling your heartbeat succumb to sleep before he starts grinding into your ass. You whined, murmuring something. But he shushes you, making you fall into a blissful sleep as the man, the monster you once knew, keeps rutting into you from behind.

—

Masterlist || Reblogs, comments, and likes are very much appreciated!! Stay well!!

2K notes · View notes

ceilidho · 8 days

Text

take me home, country road

[ao3]

You have nothing on your person apart from a hastily packed suitcase and the dress you came into town wearing, on the run from trouble back home. Too bad John's missing a bride that matches your description. Or: the 1800s (mistaken) mail order bride au (chapter 11)

first chapter >> last chapter

Your heart could very well have stopped beating and you’d be none the wiser.

By now, you’ve experienced fear in all its varietals. The stomach churning and the latent, the languid; the swift moving silverfish slipping out of your grasp. The monstrous rising beast of it the day you turned around to find the master of the house turning the lock on the door and trapping you in with him. Then the delayed panic in the aftermath of bringing the bust down over his head and hearing his skull crack under its weight, the blood pooling around his body, almost aureole-like. Pondering the miraculous like, well, isn’t that just the devil of it. A halo for a man intent on your ruin.

The fear washing over you now is entirely new though. Like a rapid exhalation. Of course you were right all along . Right to expect the devil showing up on your doorstep. The weeks of silence had imbued you with a sense of confidence. An arrogant, undeserved confidence that whispered in your ear to let your guard down.

But you know now that the world is not large enough to hide in. It is a wasteland of false prophets and false directions. There are no second chances.

The only consolation is the silence from the man behind the counter as he studies the warrant. You imagine him standing there giving it a good once over, his face maybe scrunching up as it calls to mind the woman that just walked through his door. You wonder if they thought to add a sketch of your likeness, whether there’ll be a woman on the warrant that looks an awful lot like you.

You stay put behind the shelf though, not risking so much as a peep.

“Any information you might have would be much obliged,” Graves says, trying to coax an answer out.

After a few more seconds, the shop attendant answers with a rueful, “Can’t say I have, sir. You want me to leave this with the sheriff?”

Graves breathes out through his nose in frustration. “Now, are you positive about that? Take a closer look—I don’t mind waitin’ a bit longer for you to sift through your memories. I’m sure a town as big as this must get passersby from time to time.”

“No. I’m sorry, sir, but I’m certain. Never seen a woman fitting this description or name. Couldn’t even tell you the last time we had a stranger come through town and stay longer than a day.”

“I see.” It’s hard to tell whether Graves takes him at his word or not. The aura of menace that the man exudes suggests that anything said to him might rouse his suspicions. That they’ve already been roused, in fact. It makes even you second guess the man behind the counter, wondering if perhaps he knows and simply stays his tongue.

“Sorry I couldn’t be of more help. Still want me to pass this along to the sheriff?”

The floorboards creak under his feet when Graves takes a step back. “If you don’t mind. Been having the darndest time tryin’ to track down the man and, frankly, I’ve got other obligations. I do appreciate your time though.”

You stay hidden behind the shelf, listening to the sound of the spurs on his boots rattling as he leaves. The chime on the door jingles when it slams shut. You flinch at the sound. For a minute after his departure, you wonder if the door will burst back open and he’ll come crashing in, heading straight for the back to haul you out by your hair.

A minute passes and nothing happens. The floor beneath you still feels like it might give out at any moment.

When you take your first step, the nausea comes rushing up.

“Mrs. Price,” the shop attendant says, perking up at the sight of you coming out from behind the shelf. “I forgot you were still here.”

You feel like an automaton or a ball-jointed doll, your movements stiff as you approach him. Morbidly curious as to what you’ll see on the warrant spread out on the counter separating the two of you. When you look down, your breath comes shuddering out.

The sketch on the paper does bear a passing resemblance to you, but only if you squint. Nothing that anyone could point to and claim with certainty that it depicts you. Underneath the sketch, you balk when you see your real name. It’s jarring to even look at. Though you’ve gone most of your life answering to it, the past few weeks have disabused you of any connection to it. Now, you feel permeable, malleable—a substance that has been reshaped into something new. That girl on the warrant is gone now. Done and dusted. So detached from memory that even the sketch of her depicts someone else, proves false.

Still, you’re shaken by how close he’d gotten. Supposing Graves had come in while you’d been within sight. Supposing he’d looked you in the eye and asked you directly, and you’d stuttered under his sharklike gaze and drawn further scrutiny. You almost can’t believe how close it’d grazed you. The sharp edge of fate like a blade now sheathed again.

“Would you mind taking this to the sheriff?” he asks, not realizing the gift he’s given you. “I’m a bit tied up minding the shop.”

You nod wordlessly and take the folded up warrant from him.

It burns red hot in your hands when you step outside. You glance around nervously, unsure as to whether Graves had stuck around to question more people. You wouldn’t be surprised if he were still within earshot.

You waver in the street with the folded piece of paper tucked in your hands. A horse pulling along a cart laden with firewood creaks as it passes, rousing you from the trance you’d fallen into. You flinch, raising a hand to shield your eyes from the sun. It’s blinding suddenly. A clear sky, the clouds long since taken away by the wind.

John could be anywhere at this time of day. Despite the fear curdling in your belly, you can’t help the knee jerk reaction to go to him. That’s precisely what you don’t want to do though. You don’t want to be around the county sheriff on the day a bounty hunter came into town looking for you.

A crow sitting on the roof of a building across the street caws and flaps its wings, taking off into the sky.

You want to be anywhere but in town waiting anxiously for John to come find you. You don’t want to lay eyes on him and see that he’s found you out. The thought of John finding out about the man you killed back east is beyond contemplation. It nearly has you keeling over in the middle of the street. You can hardly bear the thought. How could you bear to live a moment beyond that, withering under his disapproval? His contempt?

You don’t think you can.

Every shadow fills you with dread. A barmaid comes out to toss a bucket of dirty water in the alley and you flinch like you’ve been caught. You keep your head down as you walk, eyes straight on the ground. Someone calls out your fake name and you ignore them.

Your instinct, as usual, is to run. Abscond from the scene of the crime. Even if the thought hurts. Even though you’d let yourself begin to hope that the times of trouble had passed you by. That perhaps you could’ve made a home out here in the middle of nowhere. You should have known that those dreams were just that. You should have known better than to want. These days, it is dangerous to long for anything.

It’s better if you fade from memory like a bad dream, you think when you spot Buttercup fixed to the post outside the sheriff’s office. Better if they think of you with a bad taste in their mouth and nothing more. A girl that came and stole their sheriff’s heart and his horse and then vanished into the night.

When one of her black eyes fixes on you, you still in your advance. A horse can’t possibly read your intentions, but you feel like she does somehow. Like she knows you intend to take her and flee. She shifts, hooves coming up and back down, and you swallow the saliva pooling in your mouth suddenly, nerves taking on. You won’t let yourself be ruled by them though. There are bigger things to fear.

“Come on, Buttercup,” you whisper, hesitating before smoothing your hand down her nose. You flinch when she nickers. “I just—I need you to help me, okay?”

It’s an outrageously bad idea. Even to you that’s obvious. You don’t have nearly enough experience riding solo or even with John trailing behind you on another horse to help offer correction if you falter on your own. You’re blinded by fear though, practically shaking as you undo Buttercup’s lead from the post outside the sheriff’s office.

You’re clumsy trying to hoist yourself up onto her without John to boost you up and hold you steady. It takes a couple of tries before you manage to swing your leg over, and you curse under your breath when your dress bunches up around your waist, exposing the bare flesh of your legs. There aren’t many people roaming the street, fortunately for you.

Buttercup resists at first when you tug lightly on the reins to guide her away. She stomps her foot when you try again, giving a light whinny. Panic seizes you, a coil in your belly. You’ve only ever ridden her before with John at your side; you wonder if she’ll even listen to you in his absence or if even she can tell you’re about to do something foolish and wants nothing to do with it.

“Please, girl,” you beg. “I promise—I’ll figure out some way to get you back.”

On the third attempt, she finally listens. The way she abruptly breaks into a fast trot nearly sends you toppling over. You catch yourself by clutching the horn, tight enough that your knuckles ache. Your forehead breaks out in a nervous sweat. Buttercup covers ground fast, and without John sitting behind you like a silent sentinel, you feel control slip out of your slippery hands, clammy with sweat too.

“Whoa, girl,” you breathe, trying to calm her by stroking a hand down her neck.

It does precious little to calm her down. You remember something John once said about animals smelling fear. They know it like your name.

You lose control of her fast. Almost in the blink of an eye, you go from steering Buttercup towards John’s house to holding on for dear life. Your body rocks with hers and you’re forced to tighten your thighs around her midsection when she breaks into a gallop, your hands still clinging tight to the reins. Her hooves kick up dust and dirt in her haste, sending it flying behind you.

“Slow down!” you shout, but the words are swept away by the wind, already behind you.

Not once have you ever ridden a horse at this speed. Your direction seems like more of a suggestion to Buttercup, and not one she’s inclined to take. The town rapidly vanishes behind you, the vegetation sparse for the first few hundred yards, arid scrubland scorched by the sun and fed off of by the horses and mules coming in and out of town. The sun beats down hot on your head, no hat to shield you from the heat.

You can’t imagine you would’ve been able to hold it down though, you think wildly, mind still in a flurry of panic. It would’ve flown right off ages before.

Your breath comes out in hitched pants as you clutch with all your might to the horn of the saddle, your hands soon transferring to her mane for better purchase. Buttercup moves like a rogue wave beneath you, like something sailors only speak about in hushed whispers. She takes a wide arc around John’s property, heading towards the mountains instead, and no amount of trying to steer her with your legs seems to work.

Your head whips back to watch the house pass, the dark shape of it sailing past you, and it nearly causes you to lose your balance. Looking back in front of you only makes it worse. Panic courses through you when you stare ahead only for the world in front of you to spin. Bile creeps up your throat. You swallow it back, but only just.

The half-formulated plan you’d had in mind is long gone. All you can focus on now is remaining astride the horse beating dirt under you. Any thought of bringing her to a halt dissipates. Even the thought of escape evaporates into thin air.

Only when you feel Buttercup slow to a trot do you peel open your eyes. The breath you let out as you look around is short, panic still churning in your guts.

Over the weeks since John married you and took you home, he’s taken you through the mountains a fair few times, familiarizing you with the land to the best of his abilities in such a short amount of time. But the wilderness stretches far and the terrain beyond John’s homestead is rough, treacherous.

When you look around, you realize that you don’t recognize this part of the mountainside.

The trail Buttercup takes you down is cut haphazard into the landscape—a crude, handmade path, not one seared into the ground from frequent travel. It feels distinctly wilder than where you’ve been before. Your head swivels around as you try to look for something that might jog your memory. The striated mountainside tells you nothing. The trees out this deep into the mountains are thicker and older, gnarled root systems bursting up from the earth and coiling around the nearby rocks like snakes winding around their prey.

You sit up a bit straighter, still shaking when you rub your hand down Buttercup’s neck. “You know where we are, girl?”

She puffs out a breath.

That tells you nothing, but she keeps going down the same path deeper into the woods. No amount of squeezing your thighs or patting her neck gets her to stop. You should be thankful that she’s at least no longer sprinting, that you can actually sit up and catch your breath now, but the fear from earlier is but a paltry shadow compared to that which is brewing in you now.

Every crick and snapping twig makes your head spin round. You stare intensely past the treeline, searching for the barest hint of motion. You don’t know much about these parts, but you know that this is no place for a woman by her lonesome. Even a man on his own out here might feel jumpy. This far out of the way, only cougars and bears take refuge, and the odd band of outlaws making camp for the night and taking advantage of the relative isolation this far out west.

“Come on, girl, we can’t be out here,” you whisper, leaning closer to Buttercup to hopefully muffle your voice. Even as low as you speak, it still seems to echo.

You don’t know where you’re meant to go though. In the flurry of panic that had come over you at Graves’ arrival, you’d bolted without thought. Without a compass or map, you’re as good as lost in the unsettled land deep in the mountains.

As that reality dawns on you, you realize that you haven’t had a drink of water in quite some time.

An hour must pass with Buttercup stubbornly refusing to listen to your commands to turn back. Maybe longer. She resists even when you pull on the reins. In truth, you don’t blame her. Your commands come feeble, no strength behind them. The fear of being bucked off her back makes you soft. John would be gruff, unyielding—you can’t imagine him giving into fear.

That somehow upsets you even more. You can’t help but wish more than anything that he were here with you.

The temperature drops as the sun begins to set. Without the sun beating down on you, you shiver in the cold air. There’s nothing to keep you warm other than the clothes on your back. Your lips smack when you part them, parched after hours without water. You haven’t stumbled across a river or stream in the hours since starting down this path.

Then, from behind you, you hear it.

The name that isn’t yours. You don’t catch it at first until it comes again, louder this time. When you look over your shoulder and down the path behind you, John’s furious face stares back at you, his lips worked into a flat line.

The way you gasp must spook Buttercup, because she abruptly breaks into a gallop, forcing you to hunker down and hold on. You want desperately to look back, torn between relief and distress, but you stare ahead instead.

The black horse he rides gains on you fast, legs pumping beneath its massive body. It’s not a horse you’ve seen before. Maybe borrowed in his haste to chase after you. You don’t let yourself digest that thought though, too concerned with remaining astride.

Despite its size, it collapses the distance between you two quickly, nearly on you now. Instinct has you leaning into Buttercup, trying to get as low as possible and let the air glide around you. Her gallop quickens into a sprint. You’re just holding on now, facing straight ahead, no chance of being more than a passenger on this trip.

John shouts at you from your rear to bring Buttercup to a stop. You squeeze your lips together instead of shouting back that you can’t. If you open your mouth, you think your stomach will come straight out.

Your body jostles around on top of your horse, on the verge of slipping off with every passing second. When she takes a turn too quickly down a trail leading up into the mountains and you slide a bit to one side on the saddle, only your foot in the stirrup catching you, your heart stops. Fear is ice inverted; poured over you. It drenches you in another layer of sweat that dries rapidly in the air whipping around you.

Hot and cold. The ground seems to come towards you every time Buttercup’s legs kick up. Always on the verge of falling and breaking every bone in your body. You suck your tongue to the roof of your mouth so it doesn’t get caught between your clacking teeth and bitten right off.

“Pull up on the reins!” John roars over the cacophony of stomping hooves.

A glance to your right finds him close enough to graze with your fingertips. Your heart jumps in your chest.

“Pull up!” he shouts again, but all you can do is stare uncomprehendingly.

You don’t know if he can see the terror in your eyes. It must be splayed clean across your face. He has to see the way his words mean nothing to you. Your panic effaces any meaning; all you hear is noise and anger pouring from his mouth, and trampled dirt and labored breath.

When his horse pulls up alongside yours, he gets close enough to lean over and snatch the reins out of your hands. He pulls firm, tugging Buttercup’s head back until she almost rears up and you scream, hands fisting in her mane.

Your body lurches forward when she comes back down, slumped over the saddle horn. It digs hard into your stomach. There’ll be a bruise there come morning, but nothing like the bruises that’ll bloom between your thighs. Even now the ache radiates down your body. You look up at the sound of John’s breath panting out like a bull, and he glares down at you with undisguised fury, the angriest you’ve ever seen him.

“What in the blazes were you thinkin’?” he booms. Even the horse he sits astride shakes its head at the sound. “There’s nothing out here but outlaws and predators!”

The hand fisted in Buttercup’s reins pulls her closer, and he guides both horses into a slow trot and then to a stop. You can feel the way Buttercup’s ribs expand and contract under your legs.

“Stop it— don’t touch me!” you snap when he reaches for you, smacking his hand away.

“Darlin’, if you get off that damned horse—” John warns, but you’re already swinging your leg over the saddle as the words come out of his mouth.

You almost trip over the stirrup when you slide off Buttercup’s back and take off on foot. You fist the skirt of your dress in both hands to lift it as you run, letting it swish around you with the force of your strides. A curse and grunt come from back behind you. The sound of John’s boots hitting the dirt is loud, and when he chases after you, his boots pound into the earth.

It’s a desperate last move, but all you can think is that you’d rather be anywhere else but in his arms. You’d rather take your chances with the wolves and bears in the woods, or with the bandits and brigands on the trails leading to the next town.

You barely make it past the next tree before he barrels into you and takes you both to the ground, the world spinning as you fall down. He angles his body to take the brunt of the impact, but you still cry out when your hip hits the ground hard. The way he pulls you into his chest just barely keeps your head from slamming into a rock.

“Goddamn it, woman,” John spits. “Where d’ya think you’re even going? There ain’t nowhere to run out here!”

Your head spins. When you open your mouth, all you can taste is rust and salt, sweat dripping off your upper lip. You can feel the heat of his chest against your back and he doesn’t give you a chance to gather your bearings before hauling you to your feet, tugging both of your arms behind your back.

“Let me go!” you scream, trying to wrestle out of his hold to no avail.

You know he doesn’t understand, but you can’t help the way you try to fight your way out of his hold. There’s no explanation that’ll make sense to him other than the truth, which you clamp tight in your chest. There's no telling if he already knows, if maybe Graves finally tracked him down or if someone else brought their suspicions to his attention, but you won't go spilling the truth yourself.

He’s a solid mass behind you, breath labored from hours spent tracking you. You wonder if he noticed mere moments after you took Buttercup and left or whether he came back to the sheriff’s office only to find the two of you gone.

John holds your wrists in one big hand at the small of your back and gives you a mean shake. “I don’t know what’s got you so riled up, but you better fix this attitude of yours and explain yourself before we get home or so help me God, I’ll take my belt to your ass.”

The mention of him belting your backside makes your hands go clammy, but you must have abandoned your common sense a mile back because your mouth keeps running. “I’ll gut you like a pig if you touch a hair on my head!”

“We’ll just see about that,” he grunts, and you can hear the raw edged smirk in his voice and the anger behind it.

When he leads you stumbling towards the horses waiting in the middle of the trail, you realize that capture had always been an inevitability in your mind. Maybe it even comes as a relief to know that the jig is up.

You just hadn’t realized that it would be someone else hauling you back by your hair.

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