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saetoru · 9 months

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✩ ‧₊˚ ✩ how long does it take to fuck your brother's best friend? (four whole days)

synopsis. suguru comes home to visit from college at the same time you do—except he brings satoru along. this is going to be a long break

word count. 8.5k (i am tired of this tomfoolery)

contents. college! au, brother's best friend! satoru, fem! reader, minors do not interact, three-year age gap (you're both early twenties), slightly mean satoru (when you’re kids), slight enemies to lovers, jealous! satoru, mentions of reader having an ex-bf, male masturbation, satoru is taller + carries reader, cunnilingus, fingering, handjobs, unprotected sex, brief mentions of alcohol (satoru), creampie, pet names (baby + sweetheart), not proofread i could not be bothered i’m sorry

notes. this was not supposed to be this long bye i am embarrassingly down bad for the blue-eyed freak

everyone knows that where there is satoru, there is suguru—and likewise, where there is suguru, there is satoru.

they’re a bit of a packaged deal, really. satoru befriends your brother in what you think must be some twisted stroke of luck—there is no way suguru would lower his standards for some rich bastard who’s had life made for him since the day he was born. but apparently, he does, and you’re stuck with a white-haired nuisance in your house at least once a week. for years.

you’ve known satoru since he was a whiny, snot-faced, and spoiled little brat. back then, he used to call you toothless—you were six, it’s normal for children at the age of six to lose a few teeth. just because satoru is nine and has grown his teeth back doesn’t mean he escaped the toothless phase himself—but satoru is just a jerk like that, pushes your buttons, and calls out your insecurities to get a good laugh.

you don’t smile with your mouth open even once around him that summer, not until suguru assures you that regardless of how many teeth you have, you have a lovely smile.

when you’re twelve, puberty does its thing, and now you’re stuck with acne-prone skin—also a normal occurrence for people your age, but satoru makes sure to point out the giant pimple on your forehead every time he sees you. you make sure to let him know his haircut is as awful as his sense of style, and suguru tries his best not to choke himself with his charger as you both bicker.

satoru is gone that entire summer for a family cruise that you’re sure costs double your house—he comes back frighteningly taller than you remember him within the span of just a few weeks.

it’s been like that since you were kids. he comes over, finds a new thing to pick on through his smug grins and smooth chuckles, and you fume as you bite back with just as snarky rebuttals. he makes sure to never cross the line of going too far—it’s more for suguru’s sake, you’re fairly sure—but stays right on the dot of getting just under your skin.

he’s annoying. a jerk. a rich snob. a privileged dickhead. he’s rude and disrespectful, with no tact, let alone any semblance of respect. you don’t understand what could possibly make suguru want to hang around such a douchebag, but suguru cares about satoru—and satoru has always been there for your brother.

you don’t understand it, but you respect it. as long as he doesn’t wet your entire bathroom sink and mirror in the mornings after he stays over, you suppose you can coexist.

but you haven’t seen him in ages—not outside of suguru’s instagram stories and posts. it’s been a long few years since the two of them have left for college, and by the time you leave too, life has its funny way of working, and, well…you don’t bump into him anymore. it doesn’t occur to you that satoru is not the same guy you used to know until you come back home to visit after your second year of college.

“suguru,” you call, “i borrowed your hoodie. but you can have it back—”

you cut yourself off when you open the door to your brother’s room, and lo and behold, stands a very shirtless gojo satoru, the white-haired and blue-eyed asshole you’ve had to deal with since childhood. except he’s way taller than you remember him—just how much does this guy grow, exactly? his shoulders are broader and….and since when did he have abs? there’s a small tattoo just under his collarbone—when did he even get that? his hair is also longer, just enough to fall over his forehead and curtain those striking blue eyes of his.

he looks…well, handsome. very handsome, in fact. dangerously handsome that it catches you by surprise as you blink.

he’s still shirtless, holding his t-shirt in his hands as he grins.

“hey, toothless,” he greets, voice deeper than the last time you heard it—but it still sounds relatively the same. you think you’d always recognize satoru’s voice, whether you’d like to or not. and, of course, he just has to still use that ridiculous nickname after all these years. “long time no see.”

“i have all my teeth now—i have for a long time, y’know. and put a shirt on, you freak,” you huff, rolling your eyes, “where’s suguru?”

“what, you don’t enjoy the view?” he motions at his bare torso, like the shameless bastard he is, “most girls love this view—”

“and yet, you’re still single,” you cut him off, staring at him pointedly.

he grins impossibly wider, tugging his shirt over his body swiftly—you have to exercise all ounces of control not to gulp as you watch his biceps flex.

“keepin’ track of my love life?” he wiggles his brows, “i know older men can be appealing but have a little class. your poor brother would lose his shit if you went after his best friend—”

“satoru,” you sigh, pinching your nose, “do you age backward or something? how are you still this obnoxious after so long?”

“i practice in the mirror,” he winks, “it’s my charm.”

“that’s hardly charming,” you roll your eyes, “anyway, whenever suguru comes back, let him know i left his hoodie, yeah?”

“sure,” he chuckles.

and then you close the door as you leave—right before you stop, pause, and open it up again as you’re sticking your head back in when you make a shocking realization.

“wait, how long are you here for?” you ask, eyes wide.

he has the audacity to look smug as he taps his chin and pretends to think—“oh, y’know. just the rest of break. my old man took my mom on some trip, so i’m killing time here,” he shrugs.

great. lovely. wonderful. just what you needed.

you wish he’d drop dead—maybe suguru will finally be forced to go outside of his one-man circle and actually befriend some respectable people.

“you can’t just stay at your place?” you hiss, “it’s certainly big enough.”

“well, why be lonely in an empty home when we can have fun here?” he hums, “consider yourself lucky—you get to be housemates with me for a—”

“keep to yourself,” you warn, cutting him off again through narrowed eyes and a dangerous glare—satoru only looks more amused, raising his hands up in surrender.

with that, you turn again and almost shut the door when he calls for you—“hey, toothless,” he says lowly, making you pause before turning to him with a raised brow. he smiles—it’s so unlike that usual smirk of his…somehow this one is a bit gentler as he murmurs, “you look good. grew up well, y’know.”

you blink. you’re not ready for that…didn’t expect a compliment from gojo satoru himself—especially not after all this time of throwing mediocre insults your way.

you decide he must be messing with you, so you purse your lips as you click your teeth in irritation. “yeah, sure,” you say dryly.

you can hear his chuckles as you close the door again—this is going to be a long break.

—————

just as expected, the house is simply not big enough for you and satoru.

the first time you run into him happens to be first thing after waking up—you’re walking up to the door just as he twists the knob and opens it, walking out shirtless. again.

this time, however, he’s got beads of water rolling down his skin from his shower, right between his pecs, as a towel hangs around his shoulders. you can see his tattoo from up close now, a small infinity sign right under his collarbone that contrasts against his pale skin.

how tacky, you think—just as you’d expect, even his choice of tattoos is questionable.

his hair is wet—it’s sticking to his forehead instead of the multiple directions it usually scatters around in that messy way it always does. you’ve only felt satoru’s hair once—when you were fifteen, and you’d hit him in the back of the head as you walked past him at the breakfast table. he’d made a jab at your dark circles. tests were around the corner, and unlike satoru, your grades actually mattered. you didn’t expect his hair to be so soft, but it is, and you almost itch to twirl the strands around your fingers for a quick feel.

instead, you scowl and stomp off to your room as soon as your dishes are washed.

his hair is probably just as soft now—maybe even softer now that he actually probably cares to look after it. you’ve heard suguru grumble about using two-in-one shampoo too many times when he comes back from spending the night at satoru’s. for a second, your fingers twitch to reach up and brush through a few strands on his forehead—just to feel them because they look soft. nothing else.

the urge is quickly killed as soon as he opens his mouth, however.

“oh, hey there, roomie,” he grins, “you’re really doing all you can to catch me half naked, huh?”

“don’t flatter yourself,” you grumble.

“i’m just sayin’,” he chuckles, “that’s twice now. if you ask nicely, i might walk around like this just for you.”

it’s way too early for this.

by early, it’s actually late noon. now that finals aren’t killing your free time, you stay up until ungodly hours to catch up with your social life—and it doesn’t help that you can hear satoru and suguru stay up playing video games the next room over, either. suguru is probably still sleeping.

that’s a bit of a shocker, in fact—usually, it’s satoru that has to be dragged out of your brother’s room to have breakfast (or brunch, really) before the kitchen is cleared up. why satoru is up first is beyond you.

maybe it’s just a cruel way for the universe to enjoy watching more of your veins pop.

“does that apply to asking you to leave? because then i suppose i can ask rather politely.”

he grins, eyes sparkling with amusement as he shoots you that smile with those pearly whites that irritate you to no end. you’re not sure why, but something about his smile looks so much different nowadays—something about it just seems so….mature.

that’s a word you didn’t think you’d ever use to describe satoru.

“mm, not quite,” he hums, “you’re still stuck with me.”

“whatever,” you mutter, rolling your eyes. “move, i want to shower before suguru wakes up.”

“you have time,” he steps to the side, letting you enter the bathroom, “he’s probably not waking up anytime soon—woah.”

satoru’s shirt is on the floor—why, you may ask? because he’s an annoying idiot who doesn’t have to clean up after himself when people have always been around to do it for him. he never has to care to aim and toss his clothes into the hamper because the maids will pick up after him anyway. old habits die hard, you suppose—you’ve listened to suguru complain about satoru’s messiness not improving even after being his roommate for the last few years. it’s never been your problem, but you don’t appreciate it now that you’re slipping over the fabric on the tiled floor, falling backwards with a squeal.

but satoru’s quick—he catches you with those strong arms of his and wraps them tightly around you, keeping you securely in place as he steadies you against his chest.

his bare chest, in fact.

you can feel the slight dampness seeping into your shirt, and you can feel his hot breath on your neck as he exhales in relief once he makes sure you’re safe. you almost shiver—almost, but you manage to scrape together enough self-control to stay painfully still in his grasp.

“you okay?” he murmurs gently, voice a low whisper against your skin. there’s no bite to his words. no amusement or teasing or even smugness. it’s genuine, the way he checks on you.

this is…new. very, very new.

“yeah,” you breathe, letting out a sharp breath. and then—“maybe keep your clothes in the fucking hamper next time, though.”

“sorry,” the smile in his voice is almost audible—you can’t see it from where you are, but you can hear it in his voice. you roll your eyes, and satoru makes no move to loosen his arms around you. for some reason, you don’t move.

you’re not sure why, but you just don’t.

“you’re still just as messy, huh?” you roll your eyes—he laughs, and it’s a smooth, boyish chuckle that almost makes you wonder for a moment if this is why girls seem to love satoru so much despite his god-awful personality.

it’s a pretty beautiful sound—you hate that you have to admit that to yourself.

“yeah,” he admits, “it drives suguru nuts.”

“yeah, i can’t imagine why,” you snort. it’s like that for a moment—satoru’s muscled arms around you and hard chest pressed against your back. finally, you clear your throat. “you can let go now, you know.”

“right,” he mumbles, slowly pulling away—and when you turn to face him….is that disappointment? on his face? you don’t get a chance to be sure because then he’s bending down to pick up his shirt before he’s standing—he’s already wiped the expression from his features completely by then. “sorry about that, toothless. i’ll keep my shirts off the floor next time.”

“that would be so kind of you,” you smile sarcastically.

and then you shut the door in his face and exhale as you lean against the wall.

this is going to be a longer break than you thought.

—————

the next time you run into him, it’s late at night. everyone is asleep—even your brother and his headache of a best friend, if the silence tells you anything. you can’t sleep, though, so you make your way to the kitchen to hunt for snacks. you’re skimming through the pantry before your eyes land on a surprise—a box of strawberry pocky sits nice and enticingly, right there for you to open and devour.

you grin, reaching over when—

“those are mine,” satoru calls, stepping into the kitchen, “brought them over myself. you should ask before touching people’s things.”

“you literally ate my leftovers the other night,” you say incredulously.

“those were yours? i thought they were suguru’s.” he raises a brow in surprise, making you click your teeth in irritation.

“the principle of asking still applies,” you purse your lips. and then defiantly, you open the box and grab a pack right before his eyes.

he scowls—but you know he doesn’t actually mind because he waits for you to finish grabbing yours before taking the box and grabbing his own pack and a coke from the fridge. you both take a seat at the kitchen table, across from each other, as you open the packaging and silently eat your newfound snack.

it’s satoru who breaks the silence first.

“do you still throw away the ends of these?”

you huff indignantly, not meeting his eyes as you take a bite off the strawberry-covered end, stopping at just where the cookie portion is uncoated. “yes. i’m eating these for the coating—not the bland biscuit part.”

“what’re you, five?” he snickers, earning a glare from you. defiantly, you pop the end of the pocky stick into your mouth just to prove a point—and then the look of distaste makes him cackle louder.

“shut up,” you hiss, “you talk too much.”

“the ladies love it when i do,” he bats his lashes—you stare at him blankly, unimpressed.

“yeah, as if.”

“hey, my ex-girlfriend totally did,” he defends.

ex-girlfriend? that’s a bit of a shocker—you didn’t know satoru dated anyone in the last few years, you haven’t seen or heard anything of it through suguru’s end. in all realness, you didn’t even think satoru was the boyfriend type…but then again, he’s not really the anything type. he just kind of exists to take up space and be the bane of your existence.

“i hope the poor girl is recovering well after dating you,” you shake your head, feigning a concerned look on your face that makes him roll his eyes—they’re still disturbingly bright even in the dark kitchen, dimly lit by the slightest bit of moonlight pouring in through the small window.

“i dated her freshman and sophomore year,” he says casually. you also didn’t expect that—that it lasted that long. something about satoru doesn’t strike you as the long-term relationship kind of guy. something about him doesn’t seem like the relationship kind of guy at all. not because he’s the type to mess around casually, but because he seems the type to seem disinterested all around—he’s snobby like that. “she was…alright, i guess.”

yeah. very snobby.

“you are such a sick bastard,” you spit.

he snorts, taking a bite of his pocky as he shakes his head in amusement. you’re as feisty as ever—it’s always fun riling you up, even if unintentionally.

“hey, it’s not like she was bad. she was just…well, she wasn’t interested in me like that either,” he shrugs, “i think it was just the sex. it was good, can’t lie there.”

“you’re so gross,” you roll your eyes, “have some decorum.”

“what, you’re still sixteen?” he raises a brow, lips curling into a smirk as he reaches for another pocky, “can’t say the word s-e-x?”

“i don’t broadcast my sexual activities out in the open,” you shrug.

satoru chuckles, taking a bite that more or less finishes the entire stick in one go before he presses a finger to his lips, “shh. don’t say that too loud—suguru will come chase you from his room if he hears.”

“suguru,” you groan, “he’s such a pain to have around sometimes. y’know i dated this one guy last year. i think suguru might’ve paid him to dump me.”

“i know. he definitely thought about it,” satoru hums, “he used to go off about it all the time. he was right, though—that guy was a total prick.”

something about you is mildly shocked that satoru knows about your private life—sure, it’s not outrageous or even the slightest bit unlikely that suguru mentions you. satoru and suguru are best friends, and you happen to be suguru��s sister—of course, suguru is bound to mention you here and there. it’s just the fact that satoru even pays attention to anything to do with you that surprises you—although you suppose it would be a good way for him to find his next source to push your buttons.

“i’m not surprised you think he’s a prick,” you nod, “it takes one to know one, after all.”

“oh yeah?” he snorts, waving you off, “i do, in fact remember anniversaries, y’know.”

“okay,” you sigh, defeated—your ex-boyfriend is admittedly not at the top of the list of your brightest choices. not even up halfway on the list. in fact, he’s so low on the list of good choices you’ve made, that willingly choosing to interact with satoru feels like an exceptional decision in comparison. and that’s saying something. “he was pretty bad. but he was really hot. when a guy looks like that, his values are the least of my worries.”

it’s a joke—you’re sure he knows that. but satoru takes a long sip from his coke, silent for a moment. you don’t think you’ve ever seen him so serious, especially so suddenly.

“he can’t be that hot,” he mutters.

“oh he was really hot. probably the hottest guy i’ve ever talked to—” satoru bites his pocky a bit aggressively at that, “and he was so tall. maybe taller than you—how tall are you again? anyway, he was pretty enough to overlook his shortcomings.”

“he’s probably not taller than me,” he grumbles, frowning. you snort—men and their fragile little egos, you think in amusement.

“he was,” you tease, “he was so tall, i’d let him do whatever he wanted.”

“that’s a terrible way to look at it,” he scrunches his brows, “you shouldn’t let some guy walk all over you because he’s tall and his face is a bit easy on the eyes—”

“i know you’re not talking—”

“i’m serious,” he cuts you off. something about him reminds you of suguru for a moment—like he cares who you’re with because he has a reason to. as if you mean something to him, as if knowing someone who doesn’t deserve you has you in their palms is upsetting.

but then you shake the thought out of your head—satoru doesn’t care. he’s never had a reason to, and you don’t exactly plan to give him one, either.

“okay, dad,” you roll your eyes, “i learned my lesson. i have standards now.”

“good,” he nods—and then, as if to keep himself in character, he adds, “because i don’t want to help suguru kill someone, and it’s over something lame like forgetting his little sister’s anniversary. i’d like to go to jail for something more badass.”

“you and badass don’t belong in the same sentence,” you raise a brow. “let’s be realistic.”

“oh yeah? that’s rich coming from—”

“guys, it is five in the morning,” suguru grumbles, throwing a water bottle at satoru’s head. you glance at the kitchen entrance, eyeing a half-asleep and very irritable suguru as he crosses his arms, “can’t you idiots fight over who’s more of a loser at reasonable hours? some of us like to sleep.”

“want one?” you offer your pack of pocky, holding it out to him.

suguru blinks, contemplating for a second before sighing and trudging over.

“yeah,” he mutters, flicking your forehead. “gimme that.”

you watch woefully as suguru takes the entirety of your pack, swiftly sitting next to satoru and leaving you empty-handed. satoru snickers obnoxiously at the deflated look on your face—and then he holds out his pack to you.

you look between him and the pack for a moment before giving him a genuine smile. it’s a rare sight—he drinks it in as you carefully take one and bicker over something with suguru.

you’re pretty when you smile, he thinks—pretty enough that if you had horrible values (which you don’t), he might feel inclined to understand your (awful) reasoning for a moment.

and then he blinks and shakes the thoughts out of his head—it’s going to be a long break.

—————

satoru meets you when you’re six.

he’s nine at the time, and he feels on top of the world knowing he’s three whole years older than you—in hindsight, three years is not a very large gap, but to nine-year-old him, it feels like centuries. he’s remembered you as the fun little drama queen that’s too easy to poke fun at for years—that’s all you’ve always been: suguru’s younger sister who puffs her cheeks out and scowls way too often to be normal, the girl that’s way too easy to tease than should be standard.

somehow, he wasn’t expecting for you to come back so grown…and so hot. suddenly, it really hits him that you’re not a kid—have not really been for a long time now. he’s always treated you like you’re way younger than he is, way too little to be in his presence and be worthy of it—but you’ve really become a fine young woman.

a magnetizing one, in fact.

it’s now his third night at your house—your parents are as lovely and welcoming as ever, and suguru is always a good time to be around. but somehow, satoru is not satisfied. not anywhere near sated by the few, minimal moments of contact with you.

when did you get so pretty? although, as much as satoru has always liked to poke fun at you, you’ve never been ugly. not even a little—but you’ve grown into your features better, outgrown the awkward teenage era of your life, and now present yourself with a newfound confidence that just looks…so good. satoru doesn’t see his best friend's kid sister anymore—no, there’s something so alluring about you now.

the nail on the coffin that solidifies he’s officially screwed is when you mention your ex-boyfriend—why would your dating life make him this irrationally angry? why is the thought of someone being on the receiving end of your praise (and shameless heart-eyes) so aggravating for him?

he doesn’t know—but what he does know is that the raging boner has been killing him all morning ever since he woke up from…well, less than proper dreams about you.

so now he’s here, forehead pressed against your shower wall as the hot water hits his back, swollen cock in his fist as he thumbs at the tip, teasing the slit just the way he likes. he thinks about you—how he’d show you what makes him feel good, how you’d probably learn fast and take care of him just the way he needs.

your hand would look so much daintier compared to his—smaller, but he’s sure it would still feel infinitely better.

he bites his lip, fighting back a moan as he strokes himself slowly, pre cum smeared along the length of his hard, aching cock—red and angry at the tip, leaking with more pre cum no matter how many times his thumb collects every drop.

“f-fuck—” he breathes, and his voice lets out a shaky, breathy little call of your name—he’s screwed if anyone hears it. he’s sure you and suguru will both band together to kill him, but thankfully, the words are lost in the sound of the shower running. “fuck baby,” he says hoarsely, voice cracking ever so slightly as he whines.

it’s soft and quiet, the noises he makes—careful and deliberately hushed to make sure no one hears the improper way he’s thinking of you right now. but fuck, your tits are so pretty when you walk out of your room in a t-shirt in the mornings—he can just tell you’re not wearing a bra. he can’t stop thinking about it, can’t stop trying to picture what they’d look like uncovered and bouncing.

“jus’ like that, baby,” he pants, whimpering softly as he squeezes around his tip, teasing himself with that slow, painful pace of his.

satoru is sure that if it were you, that if the hand stroking his cock right now was yours, you would never let him cum so easily—you’d drag it out just like this, pump him slowly and twist your hand around him in a pace that’s painfully not enough before ever thinking about letting him come undone.

it’s just the way that you are—never ready to back down from a challenge, unwilling to go down without a fight. but he loves it, he thinks—lives for the way you keep him on his toes and work for the satisfaction.

“more,” he gasps, “n-need more—gimme more, sweetheart.”

he imagines it—the way you’d kiss his jaw, maybe even the corner of his mouth, as you hum. say please, toru, you’d probably say—and fuck, he’d kill to hear you say toru.

“please,” he rasps, “please, baby. d-don’t tease.”

he can practically hear your light giggles, the sweet, okay, baby. no more teasing, that you might whisper. he’d also kill to hear you call him baby—he’s almost nauseous at the idea that some other guy must’ve heard the pet name from your lips before him. and then he lets himself pump his erection faster, squeezing tighter as his thighs quiver while he stands in the shower.

fuck—you feel so good. you’re not even here, but he’s sure you do, and he’s desperate to envision it. it practically hurts—the way he’s so hard and swollen and ready to release. just for you, he wants to tell you, he’s going to cum all for you.

“baby,” he whimpers, “‘m so, so close—fuck ‘m gonna cum. ‘s for you—gonna cum for you—ngh, sh-shit.”

and then there’s cum on the tile walls, on his hands, on his abs as they flex with every labored breath. satoru cums—hard. his eyes are squeezed shut, lips parted with a silent cry as he pants and strokes himself through his high. you’d kiss him, he likes to think, on his jaw and cheeks and maybe the tip of his nose as you sit on his lap and work him through his orgasm. you’d watch him closely, take in the way he comes undone for you, maybe even call him your pretty boy as he paints your hand white with his seed.

would you praise him? murmur softly into his ear and seal the gentle words with a kiss to his skin? would you stroke his hair from his face as you admire his blissful, fucked out little expression? maybe he’d ask you then—maybe he’d ask you to admit he’s way more handsome than that douchebag you dated as your hand holds his softening cock, sticky with his release.

god, what he wouldn’t do to see your hands coated with his cum—did you do this for your ex? did he look as hot as you claim he was when he came for you? the thought makes him sour—he grits his teeth and clenches his jaw at the idea, panting and catching his breath as he stares down at the mess he’s made.

he should feel bad—this is wrong. so, so wrong—suguru would kill him if he was aware satoru was lusting over his little sister. but it felt so fucking good—he’s never cum as hard as when he’s pictured cumming for you.

it can’t be that wrong, if that’s the case—can it?

——

“suguru,” your voice is shrill, deadly—like you’re out for blood. “next time you jack off in the shower, maybe clean the fucking wall? are you joking?”

“wha—i definitely cleaned that,” suguru defends.

oh, fuck, satoru thinks—he forgot to clean that. so he makes himself very scarce and stays within the confinements of suguru’s bedroom—his messy habits are starting to really catch up to him. if his defense, he really would clean that up…it’s just that he was a bit distracted.

“so you admit you jack off in our shower? our shower?” you sound inconsolable, downright devastated, and borderline hysterical. having siblings seems like a lot of trouble, he thinks—but then again, sometimes satoru is jealous of your bond with suguru. it’d be nice to have someone in his family he can actually depend on. “keep that shit for your bedroom, you jackass!”

“well, how am i supposed to do that when satoru is there? you tell me.”

“i don’t know! figure it the fuck out—you guys probably jack off together anyway.”

“what?” suguru sounds appalled, “we do not—that’s outrageous.”

“whatever,” you say—you sound almost murderous as you warn, “next time you better clean up your fucking mess, you asshole.”

satoru can’t help but smile a little—your pointer finger is definitely held up as you scold suguru—you’re so cute when you’re mad, he thinks. he almost wants to step out and catch a glimpse, but he decides against it for now.

silently, satoru thanks his best friend for taking one for the team—even if it was unknowingly.

—————

it’s night four.

satoru has surprisingly kept to himself—he even promptly looked away after meeting your eyes in the kitchen yesterday morning as you walked in for breakfast. that’s…new. a lot about satoru is new.

he’s taller and more muscular now—at one point, suguru used to tower over his scrawny little form. now he’s seemed to grow into his body, seemed to learn how to style himself better, and actually do his hair a bit. it’s still messy now that he’s just lazing around in your home—but it’s oddly handsome.

scarily handsome, in fact.

you don’t enjoy the idea of thinking about the jerk of your childhood like that—but ever since you felt the hard press of his chest against your back, sometimes you wonder what it’s like to know satoru outside of just your older brother’s obnoxious friend.

maybe, somewhere along the line, had you put your pride aside and actually tried to get to know him, maybe you both could at least be friendly. but then again, there’s never been any real animosity between you two—you can share a lighthearted talk from time to time, like that night in the kitchen.

you decide not to dwell on it too much, decide that he’s not really worth your thoughts when he’s just a guy who’s always been a bit too spoiled to learn how to be humble. instead, you go down to the kitchen to grab another pack of strawberry pocky—satoru will just have to deal with it. if he doesn’t want his snacks eaten, he shouldn’t keep them in the pantry where anyone could stumble across them.

you walk into the kitchen until—oh. it’s satoru. again.

“oh, hey,” he grins cheekily, taking a sip of his coke—he needs to break the habit of having so much sugar this late at night…but then again, why would it matter to you? “stalkin’ me?”

“for an unwelcomed guest, you sure do talk a lot,” you roll your eyes, making his lips curl into a smug little smirk.

“i don’t know—your parents seem to love having me over. what if i become their newest son?”

“i doubt my parents are looking to adopt you,” you raise a brow, slightly amused.

he hums, sipping his coke before blinking at you through those long, perfect lashes of his. “well, there are other ways to blend into a family. marriage, for example, is a great way.”

“you and my brother might as well marry each other,” you snort, “no one else will do it.”

“who said anything about suguru?” he winks, chuckling when your face twists into an exaggerated look of horror—always as dramatic as ever, you are. he can’t help but find an endearing side to it now.

satoru stands, walks over to where you are and stands in front of you as you scoff, shaking your head as you huff out a disbelieving chuckle.

“that’s pushing it,” you muse, “marrying you would be the last open option i’d have left—and even then i doubt i’d ever take it.”

“yeah?” he raises a brow, leaning in so close, you can practically feel his breath fan over you. he smells like expensive cologne and your shampoo—why is he using yours instead of suguru’s? before you can even ask him what he’s doing, he throws away the empty can of coke in the trash can behind you, eyes bright with amusement as your breath hitches.

it’s like he knows—the fucking asshole.

“yeah,” you breathe, “you don’t deserve me,” you try to say matter-of-factly. it comes off a bit more breathless than you intended—the air feels suffocating. maybe because satoru is so close, maybe because his breath is on your face, maybe because all you can smell and feel and hear is him.

you can’t find it in yourself to pull away—why aren’t you pulling away? it’s just like that day he caught you, when his arms wrapped around you and all you felt like doing was lean into his chest. what about satoru and you has shifted so quickly to make you want to do that? what makes him so easy to fall into when all you’ve always known was to shove at him?

he hums, leaning in closer and closer until his forehead touches yours. “you know who didn’t deserve you?” he asks, “that shitty ex of yours.”

you look up at him with wide eyes, speechless as his hands find purchase of your hips, grabbing them and pulling you closer—and against better judgment, your hands lay themselves across his chest. it’s as firm as you remember it.

“how would you know—”

“heard suguru rant about it all the time,” he murmurs, “how he forgot your dates. got you a shitty birthday present. didn’t show up to your anniversary. made you hang out with his friends and didn’t even meet half of yours. you’re tellin’ me he deserves you more than me?”

“he was hot—”

“yeah? and i’m not?”

he’s cocky—you hate that about him. always did. but he’s so close, so intoxicating, so irresistible, and fuck, he is hot—so incredibly hot, you’ve been losing sleep over it the last four nights no matter how hard you try to deny it.

“satoru, what are you—”

“y’know, i’ve been helping suguru pick your birthday presents since you were twelve. i’d pick you the best gifts,” his nose is brushing against yours now, lips just millimeters away from his as he speaks—“and i never forget an important date. i’m very punctual too, believe it or not. i’d meet your little friends—show ‘em what a catch i am when you introduce me.”

“and what am i supposed to do with this information?” you ask defiantly.

it’s a last-ditch effort—you both know this. you know exactly what he wants you to do with this information.

“i don’t know, sweetheart,” he chuckles, “what do you think?”

and then you’re kissing him—because fuck, satoru is right there, and how could you not? his chest is under your palms, his lips are right against yours, and you can feel his thumb rub circles into your hips.

so you kiss him—loop your arms around his neck and tug him closer and press your lips to his. he groans, responds almost instantly as his mouth molds against yours, kissing you deeper as his hand moves to cup your cheek.

your lips are softer than he thought, and his hair is silky against your fingers. you tug at the strands, grab a handful, and feel them against your fingers like you’ve wanted to for so long. and when he nips at your bottom lip, who are you to deny him? your lips part, letting his tongue slide in and taste you with a breathy sigh that makes your knees wobble.

“s-satoru,” you stutter, whispering between kisses, “suguru might come in like last time—”

“god,” he groans, head burying into your neck, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses against the skin, “don’t fucking talk about your brother right now. please.”

“my room,” you say urgently—it’s all he needs to hear before his hands are on your ass, grabbing you as you wrap your legs around his hips. it’s urgent, the way his mouth is back on yours—he doesn’t pull away even once the entire walk to your room, not even when he lets your back fall onto the mattress as he hovers over you, pressing kisses along your collarbone.

no bra, he notes happily, his hand sneaking under your shirt to toy with your pert nipples.

“god, you’ve been driving me fuckin’ crazy,” he mumbles, tugging the hem of your shirt over your arms and tossing it over his shoulder. he stares, takes in the sight of the same tits he’s been fantasizing over for the last few days in awe. “you know that? been thinkin’ about these for days,” he says lowly, cupping your tit and massaging as he presses a kiss to your jaw.

“you’re shameless,” you mutter, snorting before you cut yourself off with a gasp as he squeezes your nipple, pinching and rolling it between his fingers and pulling a soft whine from you.

“shhh,” he chuckles, tilting his head toward the wall next to you, “don’t want suguru to hear, do you? that wouldn’t be nice, would it?”

“it’ll be worse for you than me,” you grin, tugging at the hem of his own shirt, indicating you want it off. he grins widely, wiggling his brows and making you purse your lips.

“wanna see me shirtless again, huh? third times the charm, as they say,” he winks. you would retort with something as witty, but then your eyes fall on that tattoo again—right under his collarbone, making your hand reach out to trace it with your thumb.

“what compelled you to get this corny little tattoo of yours,” you grin, giggling as you trace over the small infinity sign.

for the first time, you think you witness satoru shy, blushing as he rubs the back of his neck and chuckles awkwardly. “that…that was an accident. when i got drunk for the first time.”

“oh,” you snort, “you’re so weak, satoru—”

“do me a favor, sweetheart,” he hums, cutting you off, “as much as i love when you say my name, say toru for me, yeah? i wanna hear it.”

you roll your eyes, huffing as your hand finds the back of his head and pulls him into another kiss, moaning into his mouth as he grinds the throbbing erection in his sweats over your heated core.

“toru,” you say breathlessly, “more.”

that’s all he needs to hear—satoru doesn’t waste a second before he’s crawling between your legs, sliding your cute little pajama pants down your legs before meeting your dripping pussy.

it’s wet—so wet, he almost wants to chuckle and tease you a bit. just for old-time's sake. but the ache that shoots down to his cock reminds him that he’s in no position to tease you when he’s not faring any better himself. so he spreads your legs, kisses lightly at your clit in a feather-like touch that has you whimpering and clutching the sheets in anticipation.

“how pretty,” he mumbles, “been hiding this pretty little thing all this time. what a perfect pussy.”

“satoru,” you gasp in embarrassment, hands reaching for his hair and tugging him closer to where you need him most—equal parts because you really need his mouth on your cunt and equal parts because you really need him to shut up.

but he chuckles, takes his time to spread your folds open with his thumbs, and watches in wonder as you flutter around nothing, arousal dripping and leaving a mess. it’s perfect—you’re perfect, and he wants to take his time with you.

“god, you’re soaked,” he groans, chuckling as he murmurs, “that’s fuckin’ cute.”

before you can even whine at the way his words are shameless, his mouth is back to kissing your clit, lips wrapping around it as he sucks and rolls his tongue along the sensitive bud. his fingers sink deep into you, pushing past your folds and slowly bullying into you until the tips of his fingers curl and brush against a spot that makes you squeal.

you gasp a breathy, “fuck, toru—” before he hums around your clit, vibrations making you whimper as he thrusts his fingers back in to hit that spot again. it’s sensitive, the way he makes you feel—your nerves are on fire, and your head is light, and fuck, it feels so good you can’t help but sob brokenly and squeeze your thighs around his head. he moans against your cunt, pulling his fingers out before letting his tongue lick a stripe along your slit, tasting you with a sharp inhale.

“f-feels good,” you whimper, biting your lip as your eyes crinkle at the corners from squeezing shut.

“yeah?” he hums, kissing your inner thigh, leaving a wet little sheen of his spit and your arousal on the skin, “that’s a good girl—just keep telling me how good i make you feel, kay?”

he could stay buried nose-deep into your pussy for as long as you let him—tongue alternating between fucking into you and rolling over your swollen clit, hearing the broken little gasps and whines of his name as you repeat toru over and over again like a prayer. his hand grips at your thigh, sinking his fingertips into the plush skin and rubbing soothingly with his thumb as you rut your hips and grind against his face.

satoru has half a mind to watch it again—to lick and suck at your core again and again just so he could burn into his mind what you look like when you cum. it’s divine—like he’s halfway to stepping into heaven and has to pause just to admire the sight before him.

your hips leave the mattress as your back arches, and your fingers tug relentlessly at his roots as your walls quiver, letting satoru taste every drop of your release as you press a palm to your hand and try to keep yourself from squealing at the pleasure.

suguru is right next door. you can’t wake him—can’t let him know this is what you and his best friend get up to in the late hours of the night.

it’s not until satoru pulls away, catching his breath as he wipes the wet trail on his chin does he realize how hard he is—how badly he’s aching as his cock strains against his sweats. he hisses as he frees himself; ridding his sweats and boxers and wrapping a large hand around the tip of his erection and smearing the leaking pre cum along his length.

you watch in awe, reaching over and replacing his hand with yours. satoru was right—your hand is infinitely smaller than his, and yet, it feels a great deal better. so much better, in fact, that his arms shake as he hovers over you, burying his head into your neck and groaning as you slowly stroke him, squeezing at the tip and rolling your thumb through the slit.

he didn’t even have to show you what he wanted, what makes him feel good, what makes his mind fog with pleasure and burn through every nerve. no, you figure it all out on your own, pulling strangled moans and hushed gasps from him that make your clit ache once more.

“fuck, baby,” he pants, “can’t last long like this—c’mon, g-gotta feel you.” gently, he pries your hand from his thick, pulsing cock, laying it against your stomach as he peers down in fascination. “i’ll be right here,” he hums, drawing a line on your skin right where his tip ends, “see that? that’s where you’ll feel me, sweetheart.”

“then let me feel you,” you murmur, cupping his cheeks and brushing a thumb over the skin, “fuck me, toru—wan’ it so bad.”

so he does—drags his tip along your folds and collects the slick pooling at your entrance before pushing his tip past your folds, splitting you in half as he slowly buries himself to the hilt. his jaw is clenched, breath labored as he waits for you to adjust, lets you kiss his cheeks and nose as you murmur how handsome he is, how perfect he feels, how good is to you.

“that asshole ever make you cum?” he asks lowly, “he ever eat your pussy like that? make you cum hard enough you had to cover your mouth so you’re not screaming his name?”

“no,” you breathe, quivering as his thumb rolls over your clit in slow circles, still painfully still as he stares down at you, “n-no, never. just you—only you—”

“good,” he grins, “that’s what i like to hear. and when i make you cum on my cock, make sure to tell me he’s never done that either, yeah?”

“you’re full of it,” you scoff, “always have been.”

“and you’re full of me,” he says cheekily, chuckling as you glare half-heartedly. “can i move, baby? please? need more, ‘s not enough. n-need more—”

“yeah,” you whimper, pulling him closer, chests brushing against each other as your lips meet in a sloppy kiss, “yeah—need more too, toru.”

satoru, in all his years of knowing you, has never seen the side of you that could be this gentle. the side that glides your hands over his back, feeling every flex and every pull of his muscles, gently caressing the skin like it’s holy, like it’s not worthy of marks—instead to be worshipped and revered with thoughtful touches. your lips sear into every part of him they can find—his lips, his forehead, his nose, his hair as his face digs into your neck. even your voice is a gentle whisper of his name, so soft and careful, it’s like saying it wrong could break him.

your hips buck up in tandem with his, meeting his rhythm as he slams into you, his balls slapping against your skin as he buries his cock into you as deep as it’ll go with every harsh thrust. you can feel his tip kissing against that sweet spot in the back of your walls, your abused cunt sucking him in and hugging around him as he groans.

the friction feels sickening, like he’ll pass out any second, like he’s floating between the precipice of pleasure and the edge of consciousness.

you do that to him—he doesn’t know how or when or why, but you make him feel like he doesn’t have a grip on his own senses. he doesn’t mind it so much, he thinks—doesn’t hate the idea of letting himself fall into your palm and wrap around him. it feels nicer that way, like it’s where he belongs.

“fuck, ‘s so tight,” he rasps, whining into your neck as your hand cups the back of his head, holding him in place. his hips are rutting into you sloppily now, barely maintaining the rhythm from before as he nears his high—but that doesn't stop him from angling into you perfectly, slamming into your sensitive spot every time without fail. “c-cum—’m gonna cum. cum with me, sweetheart.”

“‘m so close, toru,” you sob—and then, just as his thumb finds your clit again, rubbing harsh, desperate little circles to get you over the edge, you cum again—harder than the last time, spasming around his cock and pulling him in as you squeeze around him. “t-toru,” you gasp brokenly, “fuck, ‘s good—so good.”

“baby,” he moans lowly, “fuck, you’re so perfect. prettiest thing ever—prettiest pussy ever. i, sh-shit—” your orgasm quickly has him falling into his own, hot, thick ropes of cum spilling into you with every twitch of his cock, sweet little noises pulled from his throat that he sings into your neck, fucking his load into you.

it’s messy, the way cum spills out of you and coats his cock—but it’s perfect and feels so, so right. you can’t help but think how perfectly satoru fits against you as his body slumps on top of yours, panting and spent as he cages you in his arms.

your hand doesn’t leave his hair—now that you know how it feels, you don’t think you can stop threading your fingers through it, ever.

“wow, toothless,” he chuckles after a bit, “you’re seriously obsessed with me, huh? i mean, how long have you been nursing this crush on me, hmm? thinking about your brother’s best friend, you naughty little thing—”

“satoru, would you shut that mouth for once,” you hiss, rolling your eyes—still, there’s an affectionate grin on your lips this time as he chuckles into your skin.

“oh baby, i’m afraid this mouth never shuts, so you should get used—”

suddenly, you both freeze as you hear suguru’s voice through the door. “you two better not be fucking doing what i think you’re doing,” he seethes, making your jaw drop and satoru’s eyes widen.

fuck—that was never supposed to happen. suguru was never supposed to hear, let alone know.

“hey,” satoru starts, “if suguru kicks me out of our place, i can come be your new permanent housemate, right?”

do not comment about a part 2

but yeah he can come live with me any time and as long as he pays by sucking my tiddies i shall provide all food and utilities and everything

#teepods.writings #fics.#thirstee!#gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo smut #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk smut #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen smut

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louebel · 9 months

Text

[ " 𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐊 𝐇𝐎𝐖 𝐂𝐔𝐓𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐀��𝐄 𝐒𝐌𝐈𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆! " ] — 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠(𝐬): luffy, robin, law, sanji, kidd × gn!reader 𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐨/𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬: not proofread 'n quick, lots of fluff! they are all babies. (i KNOW kidd's crew raid fashion stores and complain about them if they're lackin. if. if there's a fic like that pls share in the comments. i BEG you.) also some swearing with kidd!! dripping divider by @ benkeibear like always,, i live for these dividers damn.

𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐊𝐄𝐘 𝐃. 𝐋𝐔𝐅𝐅𝐘

"you too!!"

you swear his smile widens so much his face is stuck that way.

he is adorable. he smiles every day but hearing you say that? it's exactly what he wants!! he wants people to look at him smiling AND wants them smiling in the process (continuous cycle,,)

it's so easy to notice just how much he loves you saying that. round cheeks tinted pink, eyes shut, and set of teeth shared to the world. he is always so animated with everything he does, and this is no exception.

this little rubber man is immediately engulfing you in his arms!! you are not allowed to leave until he says so.

"i'm gonna make you smile too! forever! that way, we'll both look cute when we smile! shishishi!"

scratch protecting him at all costs. he's gonna protect you at all costs.

if you tell him again, grab his cheeks and shake him as if he were a pupper. if he had a tail it'd be wagging 'till he flies. will probably make all types of noises while you do it.

pat the boi.

𝐍𝐈𝐂𝐎 𝐑𝐎𝐁𝐈𝐍

her smile might be tender but she's giggling internally,, she's flattered!!

"is that so? i'm glad to hear that."

robin gained confidence growing up and she knew she was a gorgeous woman — but hearing it from your lips is still a surprise. sure, she gets compliments on the daily, especially by sanji, but... yours felt much more intimate. she's not blushing because she's flustered or anything, it's just because she loves you. and that comforting warmth in her chest propagated to her neck and face.

it's small moments such as this that remind her of saul's words. each day on the sunny is a reminder, but the little things reinforce those feelings. it was such a wonderful sentiment.

you had no idea what she was thinking about, but the way the corners of her lips eased, your heart jumped too.

she really did look cute while smiling.

"you look pretty, too. smile more often, dear."

she's so lucky to have you. and you're so lucky to have her.

𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐆𝐀𝐑 𝐃. 𝐖𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐋𝐀𝐖

dies

you think he looks... cute?

his eyes widen and he just. stops functioning for a moment. his heart feels lighter and funnier than normal, and his smile returns, a bit more timid than before.

"... really?"

"of course!"

he doesn't even believe it— he did notice from time to time how you suddenly just,, softened when he did it but he didn't think you'd like it that much. he doesn't smile a lot, sure there are definitely various moments where he feels at peace with the crew, but they come easier with you

when he showed you his coin collection, when you both took a stroll or when you simply cuddled. law might look scary to those outside — but inside, he is still the small boy whose curiosity shined above all. he is very fond of those he cares about, even if he has trouble expressing his emotions and thoughts to others. the confidence he wore doubled for you and his loyal crewmates, but he deserved rest every once in a while. years of trauma dulled him, however, when he felt something, it was strong; almost as if breaking out of a cage. he kept them deep inside, only to burst and even tremble when he was pampered. he didn't know how to react, and only with time would he grow used to it.

so,, please be patient and take care of him,, he looks after himself with everything else, but he's a lost puppy with love and physical affection. if it doesn't show on his face, his heart definitely speeds up at every small thing you tell him, casual or not.

"thank you."

you see him smile a bit more now. give him any type of compliment, affection, or anything,, and the "cold" surgeon of death will be nothing but putty in your hands.

"and... you too."

he really does love you.

𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐌𝐎𝐊𝐄 𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐉𝐈

dies 2.0

"o- oh... my love! you look adorable smiling, too!"

never-ending swarm of compliments. oh and he's hugging you as if his life depends on it.

he's not really used to the sweet words and might think he's undeserving of them. sure, it's a simple smile... but that's exactly why it gets him so much. something so mundane and common yet you see a unique beauty in his and his alone. others can warm your heart too, but he does it in a different way — in a special way.

if you tell him this in the middle of the night and you're both having a calm and peaceful moment he might cry. (if it's daytime and he's feeling a lil sensitive it's tears of joy mixed with laughter,, please hold him)

he's so happy. he'll smile as much as you want him too. if that gets you to do so too, it's a win-win for everyone!

it's usually clear when he feels affectionate,, he is most of the time. but now it DOUBLES. that comment made his day.

he's so giddy and adorable.

"you light my world up, mon rayon de soleil. if i can do so too with a simple smile... then i shall every day."

𝐄𝐔𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐒 𝐊𝐈𝐃𝐃

mf's smile never dropped so fast.

"the fuck do you mean CUTE??"

was about to throw a fit but then he just. stares at you. so genuine...

"why you lookin' at me like that?? stop. 'm not fuckin' cute."

staaaare...

"... zero point one percent cute. happy? now stop looking like a goddamn puppy."

but you end up smiling even more. and no matter what he thought, his heart still beat a little faster. you looked pretty cute, too.

yes. he's a bit mean sometimes but you know he means well. he's your little man. like, he made you a tiny metal butterfly once so that even if he was busy with designing and crafting you had something to remind you of him. (he sputtered profanities and became as red as his hair before storming off walking in a wall but he still peeked from a corner to see if you liked it. when he saw your pleased expression, he smirked like the lil shit he is.)

plus... deep inside, he appreciated it. you and killer always managed to calm him down.

he truly is grateful.

"urgh. c'mere. let's go get killer 'n the others to raid a store."

...

bonus after the raid: he does your makeup and uses a great lipstick he stole found to really make you pop with the looted new clothes he got for you. hyped you up and grinned like an idiot. he's doing your nails next. killer gave you a thumbs up before finding more products himself,, raiding stores sure is fun!

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charliemwrites · 3 months

Text

Oooooh I finally did it!! Mafia au part 6! A little bit of that sweet angst/comfort.

Content: Violence, Previous Injury (mentioned), Panic Attack (non-descriptive)

Let it be said: Johnny’s no snitch.

Outgoing (“loud” Simon would grumble) as he is, he doesn’t run his mouth about anything important. Doesn’t talk business over a pint or boast his connections in bar disagreements. Doesn’t drop names, flash heat, throw around the weight of his employer. Has never spilled a single fucking secret, not for knives, acid, a fucking gun to his head.

Oh, and please don’t tell the boss.

Let it also be said: Johnny is loyal.

He would happily lay down his life for any of his comrades, lives and dies for SpecGru – for Price. And even though you’re new, you’re one of them now. You’ve quickly found and secured your place in Price’s inner circle, different as you may be. Johnny would go to war for you, and your silly pink sticky notes.

Still, keeping something – anything from the boss. Even a private matter like this…

It happened on SpecGru property, that makes it SpecGru business. And it happened to you, which makes it Price’s business.

That you don’t already know that is… well, that’s between you and the boss. Johnny’s already too involved as it is. (Not that he regrets helping you. Not a bit. If he had his way, that little prick would have left with his teeth in his pocket and a new appreciation for his remaining thumb).

So now Johnny is stuck. He likes you; he really does. That you trust him with something so personal isn’t lost on him, especially in this line of work. He also has a healthy fear of your wrath. (You may not carry any weapons he’s seen, but you’ve got Price grimacing when you narrow your eyes just so. Johnny knows where his cupcakes are made, and he likes them without arsenic, thank you). So, personally, he wants to be able to honor your request to keep the matter private.

But then there’s Price, and whatever he’ll do to Johnny if – when – he finds out about all this.

Johnny’s solution?

“Christ, Gaz, ya shoulda seen it. Never seen the little miss tell someone off like that. Graves woulda been shakin’ in his boots. Will have to ask security for a recording of it.”

Gaz, unimpressed with Johnny’s volume, rolls his eyes and walks away, muttering about tea for his sudden headache. And Price, sitting at his desk, twitches and reaches for his phone.

Mission: accomplished.

Not the most elegant, but he’s a mafia lieutenant, not a fuckin’ spy. Now, to get those pastries you like before Price sees the footage.

“Luv?”

You glance up from the expense reports you’ve been working through for the better part of an hour. Mr. Price is leaning in the doorway to his office, shoulder to the jamb. There’s… an odd look on his face. You’ve never seen it before, don’t have it categorized in your mental files.

“Yes, boss?” you ask, straightening up.

“A word?”

You blink. That’s… different. You don’t like it.

Price is a steady sort of man. Not predictable, but consistent. That this is new, unusual, unfamiliar, makes you uneasy. Reminds you of your last boss, who could call you into his office with an affable grin, only to spend thirty minutes berating you for anything and everything he could think of.

Price has never done that, nothing even close… but you can’t suppress the slight shake in your hands as you smooth your skirt down. Hide it with a little flick of your wrists before grabbing for your ever-trusty tablet. Hell, you probably don’t even need it, but at this point it’s practically a comfort item. Maybe you should name it, put some googly eyes on it.

“Sweetheart?”

You startle a bit. Realize your feet have already carried you into his office and followed him right to his desk. Except instead of standing at his elbow as usual, you’re facing him across his desk. Like you did during your interview with him, when you were still strangers. Like you used to do for your previous boss.

“Oh, sorry, sir,” you chirp, forcing your usual brightness, “those expense reports, ya know? What did you need me for?”

Without a word, he spins his computer monitor around. Your brow furrows as you process the video playing on the screen. You. Soap. Brandon. Your stomach sinks.

There’s no sound, but there doesn’t really need to be. Even in profile, the expressions are crisp – high end cameras. You feel numb as the scene plays out all over again. You and Brandon snipping at each other back and forth. Your rigid spine, stiff shoulders. Brandon’s sleezy confidence. Soap, getting visibly aggravated as the seconds pass.

And there it is, the moment you spun on your heel, done with the conversation, and Brandon reached for you.

When you see Soap’s hand snap out – just a blur on the screen – you have to sit. Muscle memory collects your tablet in your lap, sweaty hands stacking neatly on top of it. Your heart is beating either too fast or too slow.

Your eyes stay locked on the screen until you and Soap disappear into the elevator, and the video stops.

“Should I play the elevator footage as well?” Price asks, voice low and quiet. “That comes with sound.”

It takes all your years of learned discipline and cultivated poise to resist shrinking in on yourself. It does not, however, stop your eyes from burning.

“Sir,” you say, struggling to keep your voice even, “I am so sorry.”

There’s a beat of tense silence as you gather yourself, throat getting tighter and tighter. Your head is spinning with fear and anxiety. What he’ll say, what he’ll do. How you could possibly damage control this.

“I-I don’t even know how he found out where I work,” you say, “and Soap w-was just trying to help. If I’d known that would happen, I would have taken it outside.”

You can barely look at Price as your voice break midway through, the panic leaking into your tone even as you stay frozen in place.

“Did we – is he suing? Is – is that why—?”

The tears escape despite your efforts, dripping fast and down your cheeks as you shudder in a breath. You can’t pay for a lawsuit, especially not if you’re fired over this. And you don’t want to lose this job. You love this job, you love—

“Oh, darling, what a mess you’ve made of yourself.”

You sniffle as Price rounds his desk and kneels in front of you, plucking his handkerchief from his breast pocket. He tuts at you when you open your mouth to protest, already blotting at your cheeks with a surprisingly gentle touch.

“There now, no need to cry,” he soothes, thumbing away another tear before it can fall. “I know it takes you ages to get your eyeliner right. This is nothing to ruin it over.”

“But…”

“I’m not angry, luv,” he continues, voice still low and quiet. This time, it doesn’t make your shoulders tense. “Wasn’t before and definitely not now. Chin up, there’s a dear.”

“Y-you’re not?” you warble.

“Not a bit,” he answers. “Not at you, at least.”

“Then why…?” You gesture weakly at the computer screen.

He sighs, something almost fond passing over his face. “Darling, you could have been hurt. Imagine if Soap hadn’t been there. All of us on the top floor, waiting for you to get back, not knowing something was wrong.”

He shakes his head, cradling your cheek with the same hand that brushed away your tears.

“You’re one of mine, you understand? Anything that happens to you is my responsibility,” he explains. “And I didn’t… enjoy that you want to keep something like this from me.”

You drop your eyes in shame. Of course. An employee assaulted on company ground, his personal assistant no less. Price would never stand for that sort of thing. He looks out for his own, looks out for you.

“Hey, look at me, luv. None of that now,” he coaxes. “I just want to get to the bottom of why you didn’t want to tell me.”

It occurs to you that that tone you heard earlier might have just been genuine worry and maybe… a bit of hurt. You twist your hands in your lap as you gather your words.

“I didn’t… it wasn’t because of you,” you murmur. “I just… was so embarrassed. And I didn’t want to make it your problem. I’m supposed to make your life easier, not harder.”

He huffs, but you’re relieved to see wry amusement on his face now.

“No more of that,” he orders, as softly as he when he wiped your face. “Am I understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

“There’s a love.” He gently pinches your cheek, then stands. “Stay here, I’ll get you a cup of water. Take a moment, yeah?”

You nod, sniffling again. He squeezes your shoulder as he passes, and you finally let yourself breathe. Not getting fired, not getting sued. And Price isn’t mad at you. Christ, he needs to work on his approach.

“Kyle.”

“Yeah, boss?”

“Look into that knob from the lobby. And the little miss’s last boss.”

“You’ve got it.”

#cod #my writing #fanfiction #reader fic #mafia!au #oddly wholesome for a mafia au #mafia boss price #assistant!reader #assistant reader #john soap mactavish

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monzamash · 9 months

Text

off the record — lando norris

"the line between personal and professional was already so blurred; so incomprehensibly faint that anyone looking in would have to squint to see it." lando norris x you (femreader) | 2.1k rating – 18+ (sex, coarse language, drug references) masterlist

The media pen was mayhem after what had been an eventful morning on track. Cameras hoisted every which way, journalists vying for their chance to get front row. And then there was you; little old you trying your best to muscle into every nook and cranny available, wrestling with the big boys and girls. You were a bit of a hot shot now, rising through the ranks online as a media personality and bringing it to the stalwarts of mainstream media.

And you were good – really good. An exceptional storyteller and an extractor of sorts when it came to getting the scoop, something you had honed in on during your days working freelance before eventually realising your potential. Somehow, you’d made it here. Reporting for Sky Sports. Coming to you live from Monaco. Dream shit.

“Lando Norris…” You started, microphone locked and loaded in front of the sweaty, nonchalant McLaren driver.

“Felt like you left a little bit out on track in practice this morning. P10 – where do you think you can get the car in qualifying this afternoon?”

“P1 obviously,” Lando quipped, chewing through his comically large drinking straw in an attempt to hide his smirk. Mocking.

“Yeah?”

“What do you reckon?” He asked, leaning forward ever so slightly with a mischievous glint in his eye that had you rolling yours.

You shrugged, “Wouldn’t count the McLaren car out, that’s for sure.”

“The car and…” Lando smirk widened, lips still pursed and baiting.

“The driver too? Maybe?” Dickhead.

“Maybe that too…” You gave in with a sigh, eliciting a wide smile from the man standing in front of a gaggle of reporters, waiting for your next question with snickering expressions.

“So high expectations going into quali then?”

It had always been like this with Lando from the moment you stuck your little hand held recorder in his face at Bahrain last year to now. He knew he could wind you up and find levity in whatever situation he found himself in at the end of a session – good or bad. It was always a friendly back and forth between journalist and driver. Harmless banter to make the monotony of the media pen just that little bit more bearable. Professional, until it wasn’t.

“The flirting is getting out of hand,” You whispered into his kiss, teeth clashing, hands fumbling as you fell back on your hotel bed with a huff.

“But you look so fucking cute asking me questions like that,” He growled in retort, hands making quick work of the jeans clinging to your hips – the ones that had been taunting him all day.

Everywhere he turned he saw you swaying from side to side, aching to have this moment with you now.

“Well duh,” You quipped confidently, eyes fluttering shut as his feverish lips ghosted above the damp patch of excitement between your thighs. Focus.

“But it has to stop.”

“Oh you want me to stop right now?”

“I’m not talking about…” You stopped mid-sentence when you caught the mischievous glimmer in Lando’s eyes, lips pulled into a smirk, “Okay, fuck you.”

“You love it,” He breathed out in barely a whisper, leaving a trail of marks down the inside of your thigh before finally giving you what you were waiting for.

“And don’t pretend like the thought of me going down on you when you’re asking me those silly little questions doesn’t turn you on.”

Well he fucking had you there.

Lando punctuated his point with a long, teasing stripe to your cunt before burying himself between your thighs, only coming up for air when you tugged on his curls and demanded a kiss. He knew how you were, how needy and insatiable you could be. This was a thing now; a god forsaken mistake in Australia that had turned into a runaway train. Neither of you could stop it.

“I can’t live without this.”

The desperation spilled from your mouth in a guttural moan as you titled you hips upwards and let the twisted knots in the depths of your stomach unravel. The sight of you thrashing in pleasure below knocked the wind out of Lando, eyes and mind focused solely on fucking you through your high so perfectly, fingers bruising the buttery flesh of your thighs.

“God – fuck…” He could barely breathe, “Don’t – you don’t have to.”

And with one last pump, he was coming into the condom he’d slipped on without you even knowing. It was second-hand now, muscle memory and so fucking good. But it didn’t start that way – no, it was awkward goodbyes and a cold ‘thanks for that’ which made you regret ever answering your hotel door. The situation had changed in the blink of an eye – now he was lingering, kissing you in places that had you melting into the mussed sheets and begging him to stay a little bit longer.

It was pathetic how reliant you’d become and how distant you could be when he had to leave. The leaving part was the thing that changed and had you questioning all of it. It used to be that you could go shower and come back to an empty bed and not even flinch. Four months of he is just a causal fuck, no hard feelings to now not being so stoic on that sentiment but you wouldn’t admit that. Not to yourself and especially not to the man peering down at you – all lazy smiles and dimples and ocean eyes. You were fucked.

“I gotta go,” Lando whispered, brushing the stray strands of hair from your flushed face, pout present and needy.

“You don’t really though.”

“If I don’t go now I’ll never leave.”

The little voice in your head was monologuing – screaming out all of the reasons why he should stay because maybe deep down that’s what you wanted. But you couldn’t have that. The line between personal and professional was already so blurred; so incomprehensibly faint that anyone looking in would have to squint to see it. It was the devil on your shoulder that tormented you when it came to Lando, pushing the boundaries more and more every time you had him in your clutches. Risking it all.

“Kiss me before you go.”

And he did. Passionately, like a man in love because maybe he was. Maybe he had been for a lot longer than he’d realised – somewhere between Miami and now he let his guard down too far, too soon. You were flawless though, unattainably perfect that he couldn’t be blamed for falling victim to your allure – sharp eyes following you around the paddock, wishing he was the little notebook in your back pocket that garnered all your attention on race weekends.

“See you tomorrow?”

“If you’re lucky,” Lando quipped, knowing he would be the one curled up in his cold, lonely bed for the rest of the night waiting impatiently for tomorrow.

In any other circumstance you would think the two of you were like magnets, drawn together amongst the travelling circus that was your workplace. But you had a job to do and that was to seek out drivers and team principals, digging deep for any story you could find. There was a trust that you’d built with the teams, all of them respected your work and knew that you weren’t malicious; in fact you were the opposite.

“I really appreciate you not writing about my drunkenness last weekend… It wasn’t my finest moment unfortunately.”

Oscar was a rookie driver but also a total sweetheart, who admittedly had found himself in a precarious late night adventure in a Miami nightclub post-grand prix. How he ended up that drunk, you had no idea but you saved him from himself with the help of Lando, who Oscar would’ve thought was suspiciously close by if he wasn’t black out drunk.

“I got you, buddy but I think your Australian citizenship might have to be revoked after an effort like that… Very disappointing,” You teased in jest, both smiling into the blistering Monacan sun as you walked side by side into the paddock.

“I woke up with an L on my forehead which I can only assume Lando put there so I think my ego’s bruised enough thank you very much.”

“Oh yeah,” You cringed, “That might’ve been my eyeliner.”

“Is that right…”

Oscar’s tone was laced with suspicion but before he could quiz you on why you were still there that night and that he had started to notice the budding friendship between you and his teammate, he was being whisked away by one of his McLaren publicists. You were thankful that they'd taken his curious questions away – how the tables had turned.

Lando was watching you wander through the paddock behind his dark sunglasses, as had been the trend all weekend. Every time you glanced around he was there, wondering if he could sneak over and say hello. Sure, you were friends with a few of the drivers outside of work but when you stepped over that white line, the barriers of professionalism came up again. They had to, otherwise you would end up in a situation like this – gawking at someone you shouldn’t be.

But god he looked good.

He wore what he knew was your biggest weakness – a backwards cap and the black denim jacket he slung over your shoulders on that dark, stormy night in London a few weeks ago when Imola was cancelled and you needed a fix. Hotel hook-ups only. And all of this had you asking yourself, how on earth could you deny a good morning from the man who was the subject of your every desire?

“Good morning.”

“Well it’s not a bad one,” You smiled, more energised than Lando who was yawning into the crook of his arm, “Late night?”

He loved it when you did that. Sneaking little inside jokes into seemingly innocent conversation, naughty reminders of the nights you shared together when nobody was watching. The cheeky grin tugging on his lips a definite tell-tale that he enjoyed it – the tells getting easier and easier to spot the more you got to know him. A shiver ran down your spine at the thought that maybe he was into this as much as you. Little did you know.

“Yeah just squeezed in a late cardio sesh – you know how it is…”

A soft ahh slipped from your smirking lips, eyes trained on your path ahead as Lando strolled alongside, “What’s on the agenda today?”

You shrugged, half out of genuine cluelessness and the other half deflecting how nervous you were. Working in the media was your dream but walking through the hallowed halls of a sport you had loved for your entire life and that dream coming true made your stomach churn with every emotion under the sun. Especially in Monaco.

“You nervous?” Lando asked quietly, shaking you from your thoughts and panicked that you were talking out loud.

“Huh? Oh…” You waved him off and chuckled, “No – I mean, yeah but I always feel like this on race morning… But obviously you’re probably a lot more nervous than me so it’s nothing…” You were a stuttering mess and all Lando wanted to do was reach out and give you a hug.

But he didn’t. He couldn’t. This was your little secret, a delicious secret that only the two of you knew and he didn’t want to ruin that. Instead, he dug his hands into his jean pockets a little deeper and gave you a reassuring nudge. Shoulder to shoulder, the same way you laid together the night before after what could only be described as the best sex of your life. Lives.

“My mum always said that nerves mean you care,” Lando’s voice was lower than before – a seriousness taking over, “You’ll do great, as always.”

“Thank you,” You matched his tone, “Hopefully I’m interviewing Lando Norris, Monaco Grand Prix winner…”

That’s all you really wanted deep down. Not the breaking story of the weekend or the drama surrounding contract talks at Red Bull. Just for the guy you had grown profoundly fond of to have some semblance of good luck for once. He’d worked hard for it, you’d seen it first hand and you’d seen the heartbreak when things weren’t going his way. Alas, that was what started this whole situation – frustrated post-race sex. Chef’s kiss.

Lando simply rolled his eyes and sighed loudly before leaning in a tiny bit closer than what you considered a safe workplace distance, “Kiss for good luck then?”

“Get the fuck out of here!” You laughed, kicking his calf with your platform boot as his infectious cackle of a laugh echoed through the growing crowd.

You watched him disappear somewhere between the motorhomes, searching for his team. The lingering feeling in your stomach made you slightly nauseous and a little excited for the next run-in with him. It was like a game of cat and mouse and you weren’t sure who was who but you liked it. More than you wanted to admit because he was Lando fucking Norris – f1's most eligible bachelor, the naughty boy from Bristol, all curls and dimples and undeniable charm. You couldn't help but wonder how many others he had wrapped around his finger like you.

He's just a casual fuck, you mumbled under your breath as you flicked open your notebook and got to work.

masterlist | askbox

#lando norris #lando norris imagine #lando norris smut #f1 imagine #f1 smut #monzamashmasterlist #lando norris x reader #formula 1 imagine #off the record fic #off the record series

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halcyone-of-the-sea · 10 months

Note

omg congrats for 5k doll! i wanted to slide in and see if i could have a protective!bf Gaz written since my baby is so underappreciated??? i saw this tweet about the scene in mw where gaz's disabling a bomb and is unable to and price throws the guy off the balcony, but this time the bomb in strapped to his love and he's and he's struggling and sees price out of the corner of his eye and remembers what happens last time and panicks and goes all 'you won't do that to her'. just a thought, love all your work!

—Don't Look At Her

⇢ ˗ˏˋ 5k Drabble Masterlist ࿐ྂ

╰┈➤ ❝ [The bomb starts ticking down, rapidly firing to zero. Gaz won't let Price near you. Not after he'd remembered the Captain's actions when they'd first met.] ❞

"Gaz," your voice wavers, watching the rapidly working man and seeing his darting eyes—lit with panicked fervor. He doesn't answer, so you speak again. "Gaz!"

"No!" He barks, brown eyes instantly meeting yours. Lips pull in a right frown; there's a glint in his gaze that you'd never seen before—not in the many years you'd known him. Kyle's firm hands don't leave the wiring attached to your chest. The vest.

The bomb.

"No, Love," he grates out, immediately getting back to work as you try to keep your tears at bay, body jerking back and forth as your boyfriend pulls at the straps and bits. "Don't even say anything. You're going to fucking fine, you hear? It's going to be okay."

It was the product of bad intel, really. You'd been sent in without the proper know-how, leading to a scuffle where the butt of a gun had been slammed into your temple. When your eyes opened again, it was already too late.

Kneeling in the middle of a large office building, the glass of the windows shattered behind you, and the wind whips the back of your skull aggressively, you stare down at Gaz. Trying to form words on a tongue that won't cooperate.

"You need to run," you whisper out, resigning yourself as the rapid beeping increases. Your heart moves so fast you can't feel the skin of your chest anymore. "Kyle," pleading, you watch his jaw clench something fierce. "Listen to me—!"

"I'm not leaving you!" A sharp snap of a metal piece hits your ears, the piece of the vest clattering to the ground in a violent display of desperation. Gaz glances back up at you stubbornly; as if uncaring about the impending incineration only minutes away. "So you stop bloody talking like that, yeah? I'm not just giving up!"

The sides of your eyes dribble out rabid tears, lungs a mess of air and inhales that can't even be considered breathing anymore by how wheezy they sound.

How would it feel? Exploding into a patchwork of blood and fire—instantaneous, sure, but feeling Kyle's heat and his puffs of air; his fear, you can't imagine him dying like that. Not him.

"Look at me," Gaz pants, fingers pulling at cords in search of the one he needed to cut—unable to pinpoint it through the hack-job that had been done to your vest.

There was every color under the sun except fucking yellow. His teeth clench so tight they hurt his jaw, but he sends you quick glances as you shakily do as he says.

Brown eyes soften, and while the both of your hands shake, for a second there's a relief at the eye-contact. "Repeat it, Love."

You lick your lips and stammer, "y-you're not leaving."

Lips press firmly into yours, and you clench your eyes tight at the sensation, tiny sob breaking the contact.

"That's right." Gaz growls. "Not on my life."

Rapid footsteps race into the room, but before the Sergeant can reach for his weapon, the familiar call from the Captain echoes out.

"Friendly!" It's as if Gaz doesn't even register, still digging and fearfully looking at the timer.

50 seconds. 49. 48. 47...

"Sergeant," Price jogs over. You can barely find the inner strength to look up at him. "Sitrep."

Blue eyes dart from the vest to you and the Captain's serious face goes grim. His expression flashes with the inner workings of his mind, eyes narrowing and a grunt stuck under his lips.

"I have it," Gaz speaks quickly, and the words strike you as odd, though you don't comment. Price slid him a sharp look.

"Gaz—"

"Don't even look at her." Snarling like an animal, brown orbs are volatile enough to rend stone in two as they meet the older man's. You and John are rendered speechless, sharing a swift glance in shock like teenagers hearing their parents swear for the first time.

Kyle's eyes are wild, sweat slicking his brow. "Come fucking on!" He yells and your body is snapped forward as Gaz pries on the straps, having to steady yourself on the man's shoulders for support. Every muscle in his body is taunt; shaking with force.

Perhaps it was the memory that invaded his brain like a parasite that had made him snap at his superior like that—a stab to his fine tissue that digs all the way down his rail-straight spine.

Piccadilly Circus. Tanto building. Hostage with an explosive vest.

Kyle's fingers bleed as they peel back rough velcro, having ripped off his gloves to be nearer to you.

It all flashes past his mind in horrible increments, the past, but instead of a man—the hostage is you. And Price was burning his neck with a harsh stare once more.

He's going to throw her out the window, Kyle panics and you watch with the deadly realization of the situation. No. No, I won't let him. Not her.

"Garrick," Price says, voice deep. But he doesn't move. "You need to get your head back on."

"I've got it screwed on just right, Captain." Gaz grunts. "Trust me."

12 seconds. 11. 10. 9...

You stare at Gaz and memorize the make of his handsome face—the dates and the late nights speaking about the future sticking to your skin like leeches; sucking away every instance of love and happiness. His laugh. His brown eyes.

His smile.

Oh, you want to see your Love smile.

"Sergeant!" Price yells, moving forward to grapple onto Kyle's shoulder. "It's going off!"

Your boyfriend rips out of his hold, fists clenched and screaming.

"Get the fuck off of me! I can save her!" Your back hits the ground with a slap and a ragged gasp from your lips, the Brit straddling your hips in a desperate play to deactivate the bomb.

"Kyle," you look up at him, pleading. "You have to take cover, it's...it's okay. I love you, I need you to know that—"

"Bloody shut," eyes spark, locking on the bright color under the front of the vest. Gaz snaps a hand under the material and rips at it in a ruthless wrench of his arm. 2 seconds. There's a deafening snap of wire. "Up!"

The beeping stops and the world stills.

Your wide eyes can't stop crying as you stare up into brown eyes with astonishment; struggling to breathe. You can't tell if the building is vibrating or only you, but nothing seems to be able to focus as a wave crashes down on you; adrenaline still striking you.

Everything rings inside of your ears, pounding in your head.

Hands grasp the base of your jaw and lips descend to yours, tears slapping your skin from above in a wave of feral agony. Gaz stifles his sob on your mouth as you shake wildly, panting over your flesh.

Price gives off a large sigh from behind, standing straighter and turning his head.

Gaz's forehead connects with yours, but there are no words to be said—just the silent gazing and lingering fear of death. He won't let go of your cheeks, and, quivering, you go to grasp tightly at the sides of his arms.

With a shuddering breath, he closes his eyes and sags into you.

TAGS:

@luuvbuzz, @emerald-valkyrie, @anna-banana27, @blueoorchid, @cryingnotcrying, @writeforfandoms, @homicidal-slvt, @jade-jax, @frazie99, @elmoees, @littlemisstrouble, @alpineswinter, @phoenixhalliwell, @idocarealot, @lavalleon, @facelessmemories, @h-leigh, @20forty9, @glitter-anon-asks, @emily-who-killed-a-man, @neelehksttr, @aeneanc, @escapefromrealitysm, @i-d-1-0-t, @pparcxysm, @hawkscanendme, @caramlizedtomatos, @konigsleftkidney, @sanfransolomitatm, @maelstrom007, @jemandderkeinenusernamenfindet, @pheobees, @glitterypirateduck, @uselsshuman, @fan-of-encouragement, @halfmoth-halfman, @ghostlythunderbird, @I-inkage, @pukbadger, @kopatych11, @0nceinabluem00n, @cocrorapop, @knightofsexyness, @abnormalgeil, @smallseastone, @jacegons, @330bpm-whiplash, @simon-rileys-housewife, @4-atsu, @tiredmetalenthusiast

#cod #cod x reader #cod x you #cod mw22 #call of duty #mw2 #mw2 2022 #x female reader #call of duty x you #cod gaz #kyle gaz garrick x you #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle garrick x reader #kyle garrick #kyle gaz garrick #cod x female reader #drabble #5k celebration

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minhosimthings · 8 months

Text

Good Girl: A Heeseung smut drabble

Pairings: Heeseung × Virgin!fem!reader

Warnings: smut, oral (both recieving and giving), swearing, Reader is heavily referred to as 'good girl' MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

A/N: I don't know where this drabble came from I definitely did not write it at one am in the morning it's just magic. But it's not entirely my fault! Blame @heeliopheelia (who I hope doesn't mind me tagging her) for encouraging me! Also dis marks my third smut work and my second one for Enha after my Jay drabble. so yay milestone I guess. I SWEAR I'LL WORK ON THE HYUNJIN FIC LATER

And yet again, the amazing playboy Lee Heeseung had convinced another girl to let him take her virginity. Except this time it was a girl whom he loved and wanted to spend the rest of his life with instead of just some dumb one night stand. He had asked you, very gently if you wanted to do the deed one day, and he was pleasantly surprised to find out you were 'pure' in his terms. To say that he was excited was an understatement. Oh he was escstatic when you told him that you wanted to do it. So you let him take it. Take the only thing you've had for your entire life. Your 'pureness', in his words.

"Lay down for me baby." Heeseung gently put you down on the bed after carrying you from the couch, even though you insisted you could just walk up. But Heeseung wouldn't ever give his princess anything less than princess treatment, so there was no budging there.

"Oh wow are those-?" Heeseung stared down at your waist, which was bejeweled with the baby pink lingerie he had gotten you last week as a gift for getting through the week without having a mental breakdown. "I-I thought you'd like it." You stuttered out to him, at which point Heeseung melted into a puddle, seeing his good girl be so fucking innocent for him. "Take off your bra for me please baby." He said as he grinded his hardened cock against the soft silk of your panties. You took off the bra without hesitation and grabbed his hair as he lightly squeezed your exposed tits, bending down to your ear. "We're gonna try something new today, ok baby?" You let out a silent mewl in response to his pretty voice whispering in your ears. He started leaving a trail of wet kisses, beginning from your collarbone all the way down to your hip. "Hee- Hee what are you doing?" You asked, trying to keep your moans in. "Don't worry babe." He smirked up at you. "You'll enjoy this. Just try not to moan so much alright? Don't want the neighbours to know what we're doing do we?" You could only whine in response as Heeseung grabbed the elastic of your panties and ripped them off with his teeth, making your legs shiver, which in turn made Heeseung's cock hard, as to how his innocent girl didn't know what he was about to do. "Hee- Heeseung wha- Oh fuck!" Whatever Heeseung had done to your pussy with those pretty little lips of his was enough to make you scream out in pleasure. The grip on your lilac bedsheets tightened as Heeseung gave kitten kisses to your squirming pussy. "Do you like that baby?" Heeseung smirked up at you. "Does my good girl want this more?" "Heeseung- ngh- please!" You moaned at him, tightening your legs around his head, making him moan with you. He attacked your cunt again with his tongue this time, sweeping fast between your folds, only making you moan louder. Heeseung was in heaven, stuck in the ever tightening grip between your gorgeous legs. He slowly drank up your juices, as you whined, loosening your grip on his hair, now that he had slowed down a bit.

"The way this pussy tastes-" Heeseung panted, wiping his mouth and rising to your level' "-makes me think you aren't really my good girl. Are you my good girl baby?" He had stopped eating you out, like a madman and was now taunting you. If there was one thing Lee Heeseung craved for, it was seeing his good little girl's eyes roll to the back of her pretty head and for incoherent words to stumble out of her pretty mouth. "Want-to be-your good girl Seungie." You mumbled, not having anything in your orgasm-drunk brain except for your boyfriend's (read: future husband) beautiful face dangling above yours.

"Do you want to give your daddy pleasure baby?" He shot you that hot smirk again. "Do you want to pay him back?" "I-I don-dont know how to, daddy." You whimpered, widening your eyes. So fucking innocent, Heeseung internally laughed.

"It's alright baby." He stroked your hair gently and kissed your forehead before plopping onto the bed next to you. "I'll teach you. Get on top of me first." You obeyed his commands, like a lamb obeying a wolf, and swiftly got on top of him, while he took off his belt. You tried not to stare at his cock as he slowly removed his tight fit jeans, and cupped your face in his hands, taking in the way you gently stroked his abs.

"Now-" he growled as you bent down to his mouth. "bend down to my cock and put it in that cute mouth of yours." "Wha-" "Do it." He commanded once again, voice firm and strict and unlike the babying one he usually used with his good girl.

"Now suck my dick baby just like the good girl you always were." Heeseung spread his legs far apart as you shivered a bit and gripped onto the bedsheets.

"Oh fuck baby." Heeseung softly moaned as you lightly kissed his hardening cock. "Ahh fuck ahh shit." Heeseung pulled your hair ever so slightly and shoved your head deeper in almost choking you. Choking kink came in handy right? "You sure you haven't done this before?" Heeseung chuckled and moaned again, tightening his legs around you. You could get intoxicated on the noises coming out of his mouth, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down in his throat and his hands pulling your hair roughly. "Oh fuck I'm gonna cum" Heeseung voice rang out. "Take my cum baby. Swallow my cum like a good girl. That's all you are aren't you? My good girl. My good little girl." Heeseung let out a gasp, as you licked up his juices, and kissed his cock again and again, too drunk on everything happening. All you could see was Heeseung's pleasured face, praising you, and then you were lost in your cock-drunk limbo.

And the night faded away just like that as Heeseung got the best head of his life, as payment for giving you, something that you will beg for again In the coming days. Beg, like a pathetic good girl.

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hanibalistic · 11 months

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#6F417E | EARTH-42 MILES MORALES.

genre | fluff, faint angst / reader is gn

synopsis | miles found you fainted in an alleyway one day, except you died two years ago.

word count | 3440

warning | brief mention of injuries / use of spanish phrases translated from the internet :( let me know if i'm wrong about anything! / everything i know about e-42 miles morales is from the movie

note | not the proudest of my writing here. also, a disclaimer that the events in this fic will deviate from canon haha

parts | one, two, three, four

"Uncle Aaron, I think we forgot to get detergent."

"You forgot to get detergent. I didn't forget nothing."

Miles's shoulders slumped in distaste. His frown mirrored the quiet complaints he spilled out of his mouth as his fingers tugged at the grocery bags dangling on them. He must have been delirious to still forget an item written on a piece of paper and to think the word 'detergent' wasn't even crossed out on the grocery list his mother gave him. It wouldn't be too big of a deal, but he imagined his mother would be mumbling about it as she set the table for dinner.

The doorknob fumbled a bit before the door swung open. The brightness in your eyes dimmed upon seeing Uncle Aaron's furrowed brows, which reminded you of the cautionary tale he kept retiring about being aware of opening doors to unknown knocks in case of danger. You still had difficulty getting used to a dangerous Brooklyn because yours was bright and sunny, and it had its very own Spiderman. Miles had laughed when you told him about your Brooklyn, asking if there was a ranking for crime fighting bug of the week; Spiderman today, something like Ant-man tomorrow?

“If I’d been a serial killer–“

“Which you are not,” you sang with vague cheerfulness as you tried to take the groceries from his hand.

“Hence the question being hypothetical–“

“Miles! You’re home!”

“Mi vida.” It was not audible. He opened his arms habitually and let you dive into his embrace. “How’s your day? Did you glitch?”

You perked up from where you buried your face in his shoulder and examined the bracelet permanently latched around your wrist. Gwen was the one who put the finishing touches on it, and she was so excited about the product that she came over in the middle of the night to hand it to you. It has been about two weeks since you began wearing it, and you have not glitched once. You told Miles it should be safe to conclude that the bracelet worked, but he always asked for good measures anyway.

“I helped around the house, as always,” you replied. Fixing the bracelet, you felt a soft magnetic pull against the tips of your fingers that touched the metal. You let go of it and rested your chin on Miles’s shoulder, sighing in contentment at the mere solidity of his body. “I didn’t glitch.”

Knowing that he was not being paid attention to, Aaron decided against scolding you for cutting him off twice. Instead, he rolled his eyes and turned to the kitchen, where Rio was shifting through a stack of sealed envelopes. He placed the groceries on the square table in the middle of the kitchen and smacked his teeth, looking pointedly at Rio as he nudged his head toward the apartment door.

Rio didn’t have to look to know you two were stuck in each other’s arms by the door. She smiled, shifting through the letters carefully with a shake of her head. “He is happy, Aaron.”

“Happy enough to cut me off my sentence,” he scoffed before adding, “twice.”

“I’m sure they will apologize if you say something,” she mused. “Especially [Name]. They’re a good kid.”

Aaron’s eye twitched in dismay. Rio was right—you were a good kid. He couldn’t hate you enough to delude himself into believing otherwise, and of course, he didn’t actually hate you. Besides the apparent naivety he suspected came from living in a safe Brooklyn, nothing about you was blatantly dislikable. You were helpful, albeit not the brightest learner. You listened well, which could be a product of being in another’s hospitality. And, most importantly, you were Miles’s safe place. For the first time in years, Aaron could see his nephew find time to be the teenager he was supposed to be. You practically breathed life into him, which worried Aaron the most.

You were a second chance that Miles was unwilling to let go of, but whether you return to your Earth was not his decision. What would happen to him when you leave? You would destroy him.

“I got the groceries, Mrs. Morales!”

Rio dropped the envelope in her hand and smiled upon your arrival. "Mi amorcito!"

You tilted your head with a thoughtful grin after you put the grocery bag next to all the things Uncle Aaron had taken out of the one he was holding. When Rio flashed you a questioning look, you shrugged. "Miles called me that before. I didn't know what it meant."

A choked-out cough sounded from behind all three of you, and standing by the kitchen sink was Miles, gripping the edge of the sink and coughing out the water that ran down the wrong pipe. Rio covered her teasing smile with a hand, but her shoulder moved to the gentle beats of her lighthearted chuckles. Aaron stared at his panicking nephew, a tinge of judgemental pity laced in his eyes.

Slamming his fist to his chest, Miles swung around to glare between the three of you before his eyes landed on your curious face. “What are you talkin’ about?”

"When did he say that to you?" Rio asked.

You rolled your eyes skyward. If you remember correctly, it was during the first few glitch attacks when you would break down from the sheer pressure of it. He had encouraged you to sleep with him on those nights, and you gladly accepted the offer. It was during one of those tearful nights, you believed. He had whispered it when he thought you were asleep, with teary hiccups still occupying your body's consciousness, and you remembered he had been stroking your hair to lull you to sleep. Everything about him was tender during those nights—his touch, voice, and presence. Unbeknownst to you, its cause was that he physically could not muster any energy when you suffered.

"He must have thought I was sleeping," you said, then you looked sheepishly at Miles, who returned it with a sneer. “I wasn’t asleep yet.”

“Clearly,” he muttered.

"I didn't take you for someone who would sneak into people's rooms when they're sleeping?" Aaron chimed in.

“I didn’t!” Miles groaned in embarrassment. “They cry like hell whenever they glitch. What was I supposed to do?”

“I did cry like hell when I glitched,” you said in agreement as you turned around from the kitchen cabinet where you were stocking the cleaning supplies. “I was the one who looked for him, actually. I couldn’t fall asleep alone. The glitching was terrible.”

Aaron’s eyes darted between you both. Miles reached out for you, his arm moved boldly, but the tip of his finger that touched your shoulder to get your attention was timid and boyish. He exhaled when you smiled at him, and the faintest smirk only you could discern to be a curve of contentment grew on his face as you walked near him. You scrunched your nose into a tight-lipped smile when he muttered something only you could hear, likely giving an unnecessary explanation for his comment on you crying like hell.

The rate you two could engage in your own world was almost admirable if Aaron wasn’t so cautious of Miles’s growing feelings for you. But watching as you two helped each other stock the kitchen cabinets, shoulders brushing and shoving playfully, he knew he couldn't do anything.

"We forgot to get detergent."

Rio gasped. She glanced at the washing machine filled with dirty clothes waiting to be cleaned, one of which included her work uniform, and she sighed. She would have to wear the one she did on her last shift. “I guess I’ll make a run to the store after my shift ends,” she mumbled with a thoughtful hum. “Or I can do it later on the way to the bank. I needed to deposit something.”

“The bank closes at six,” Aaron said questioningly.

“They have a drop-off box that opens through the night. It’s super convenient,” she clarified with a finger snap. “I’ll just stop by briefly before my shift starts. I might forget tomorrow.”

“Your shift starts at twelve, right?”

“Yeah,” Rio nodded, “overnight.”

“You gonna eat dinner with us?”

“I will,” she nudged her head toward where you and Miles were bickering about the washed dishes, “if those two would step away from the stove so I can cook something!”

The two of you froze up at Rio’s demanding tone. Quickly organizing the knickknacks on the dish rack next to the stove, not forgetting to scoff at each other about storing the utensils, Miles ushered you out of the kitchen with his hands clamped over your shoulders. Uncle Aaron watched your backs disappear into Miles’s room, and he saw your ridiculous faces trying to hold back from laughing at what he could only assume was an inside joke, as nothing was amusing about this situation. He gulped—he couldn’t do anything about Miles’s feelings for you.

The only thing more dangerous than a teenage boy in love is the person he is in love with. Taking you out of the picture would do nothing but bring Miles out of the canvas with you, leaving two vacant spots once close together. If you left, you would destroy him, but more importantly, he wouldn't hesitate to follow you everywhere. If you jumped the universe, he would jump the universe. If you got stranded in purgatory, he would strand himself in limbo. If you went to Hell, he would go to Hell because, at some point, it stopped being a biblical state of eternal torture. At some point, Hell is not a place; Hell is just where you are. And Miles would follow you there, always.

You jolted up with the television screen flashing at your face. Even in your sleep, your body subconsciously remembered there was something you need to do. Before Rio left for her shift, which was just a little after Miles and Uncle Aaron left for the occasional hangout, she gave you a sealed envelope to deposit into the bank mailbox because you insisted that you were going to head outside for a short walk of fresh air anyway, so you might as well help you with this tiny task. Except you fell asleep on the couch after getting ready and woke up at one o’clock in the morning.

Scanning the quiet apartment, it was easy to tell nobody had returned home yet. Rio wouldn’t be home until early in the morning; Miles tended to get home around two to three o’clock when he was off with Uncle Aaron doing who knows what. Leaning your head against the couch cushion, you drew a mental map of the path to the bank before closing your eyes. If you jogged, a round trip would take you roughly fifteen to twenty minutes. Not a problem!

Sliding off the couch, you reached into your crossbody bag that was big enough for a phone to feel for the envelope Rio gave you. It was still in there. You zipped the bag and patted it twice for safety, then fixed your jacket sleeves in preparation for the chilling night breeze. Turning off the television and the living room lights as the last step, you grabbed the house key lying in a bowl with some loose change and left the apartment.

Keeping up a light jog was easy under this cold weather and the dark streets. You liked walking at night, but you were never outside this late. There were no cars or people, much unlike the bustling morning you preferred much more. Uncle Aaron’s cautionary tale repeated in your head and increased your speed through the empty pedestrian road. The more you stayed outdoors, the more you thought it a bad idea to be outside at this dead time.

“What? What is–what?” you muttered as you moved your body about.

Glaring at you was the metal deposit box enclosed in the bank walls. It took you a hot minute to find it because it was behind a wall off the side of the building where the ATMs were. You thought it was a terrible design choice only because you couldn’t find it immediately; it would not have been if you managed to. The second hurdle came when you realized the handle to the mailbox wouldn’t budge.

“How do you open this?” you laughed as you gave the handle another pull. When the metal texture began hurting your skin, you let go to loosen your jacket sleeve until it reached your palm so you could use the thick fabric as a shield. This time, you put a leg up on the wall to use it as leverage. You pulled again. Nothing happened. Huffing in dissatisfaction, you pointed at the mailbox as if it could understand you. “You’re really–mhm!”

The swift kick to the wall could be heard. Miles perked up to where the soft rummaging noise came from and squinted his eyes behind the prowler mask. He scanned the area carefully, looking for any signs of people to find none. He remained tense even as he dropped the matter—gritted teeth and clenched jaw over a bank heist only a few days in planning. He has done this many times before. Maybe not robbing a bank specifically, but criminal activities were no longer a stranger to him as they were. He would even say he enjoyed it; he liked being strong, and it was a source of easy money. However, the main reason why he turned to a life of crime was to distract himself from the death of his father and you. Now that you were here to repaint a corner of his world with colors again, being a prowler was losing its appeal.

"Miles."

He snapped out of his trance at his uncle's impatient voice screeching through the earpiece, and cleared his throat. "Sorry. What's up?"

"What's up?" His uncle sounded incredulous. "Are the bombs set up?"

"Oh–uh, yeah." He peeked out from behind the bush to check out the blinking red light he set up at the foot of the gate. "They're all set up."

"And you? You got your head in the clouds just then.”

“I’m fine, Uncle Aaron,” Miles clarified with the kind of grit that would have gotten him in trouble usually. He took a deep breath. “Let’s detonate them so we can move on from here.”

The other end shuffled and scratched; its noise muffled the careless footsteps behind the ATM wall.

“Detonation in three….”

You pouted when you shoved the envelope in your bag, still mumbling about not finding an opening to the night deposit box. It was a good enough reason to give Rio tomorrow when she returned home from the hospital; that metal handle would not budge!

“Two…”

Miles perked up at the familiar figure trailing slowly by the bank entrance where he set a bomb device. His ears did not deceive him when he thought he heard footsteps somewhere, and neither was Uncle Aaron wrong about his head being in the clouds! Nobody should be out to the bank at this forsaken time, but his surprising lack of attention made him miss the slow walker—he tilted his head—a slow walker wearing a jacket he remembered he also owned.

You blew raspberries as you patted your bag twice for safety measures. When you looked up, you met eyes with a figure in a purple suit. His stance seemed agitated, and Miles was. He cursed under his breath when he recognized your face, his legs already bringing him out from hiding. What were you doing here? You should be at home!

“One.”

“Uncle Aaron, no!”

The ground shook under your feet, but what made you lose your balance was the impact of the sudden explosions that came in three—bang, bang, bang! The bank building was collapsing, or perhaps it was only in the process of being destroyed? You didn’t get a chance to see clearly. You could hear the alarm bells, though. It wasn’t the wailing kind; it was the kind that rang non-stop.

Meeting with the ground was not an extraordinary experience for you, but it felt worse than being pushed in this case. Face planting on marble tiles was mentally more endurable than outdoor brick floors. At least you thought that way for now. A groan left your lips as your brain was overloaded with sensations; you absorbed too much, from the alarm noises to the growing pains at the bottom of your body. You groggily looked to where it came from and saw glass shards sticking to your legs through the fabric of the pants. Great. Turning away from them, you noticed your bracelet scratching up tiny sparks, and you couldn’t bring yourself to wonder if you’d broken it.

“Oh no–shit! No, no, no, ¿por qué estás aquí?” Miles unmasked himself, showing his anxiously darting eyes. His hands hovered over your body indecisively, but he felt his fingers inching toward your face where blood trickled down the side of your skin. Miles needed to look through your hair for the source. Curling his arm under your neck, he lifted you to his chest. “Oh no, oh no. Lo siento, lo siento, lo siento–no quise hacerlo.“

You stirred upon his voice phasing in and out of your muffled hearing. Even with the migraine, you could recognize his voice. He was spilling words you didn’t understand, but some of the vocabulary you knew he had said to you before. Mi cariño, mi corazon…mi vida—he whispered that to you today when he came home from school. He probably didn’t think you heard, but you did. You exhaled, then an exhausted whimper pushed itself out of your mouth when the breathing hurt your throat.

He quickly regained his composure upon seeing a sign of life, immediately hooking his arms under your knees, pulling you to his chest, and leaping away from the falling debris. The sight of you bleeding and injured was all too familiar to him. But instead of letting the flashbacks stop him in his tracks, he planned to do something he couldn’t last time—saving you or at least trying to save you.

Returning to where he was hiding, away from the burning building, Miles scanned his surroundings. “Uncle Aaron! Uncle Aaron, help!”

“Miles!” Aaron emerged from the shadows. “We have to go now, we don’t have time–“ he stopped at the sight of you in Miles’s arms–“what happened?”

“They were here–I don’t know why! They’re not supposed to be out here at this time!”

You remembered how he carried you, which seemed to always be bridal style. It wasn’t as if he did it all the time, though. His hand on your back felt much weirder, too, like he was digging claws into your skin to keep you in his arms. If your senses had gathered better, you would have teased him with the hope that he hadn't gotten tired of you joking about his feelings for you. Licking your dry lips, you rolled your head to meet his chest. It heaved with each word he hollered beyond the fire, the alarm bells, and the disagreement coming from his uncle. They were arguing about where to go. Miles clutched your body closer to him every now and then. He was hell-bent on bringing you to seek medical treatment, and his uncle was not.

“Gwen is waiting!”

“She would want me to help [Name]!”

“We triggered the alarms, so law enforcement will gather here!” Aaron argued. “The police can bring them to the hospital just fine! We need to stick to our plan!”

“[Name] is dead on record. We can’t just bring them to the hospital!” Miles said. “I’m taking them directly to mom.”

A foolish boy. “You’re gonna throw away everything we built.” It was more than just doing crimes, it seemed. There was a bond, a mutual trust built in the process that was on the verge of collapsing. “For that.”

Miles widened his eyes in disbelief. He had his doubts about the way his uncle felt about your existence. Still, he held out hope that the aloofness resulted from the great unknown of the multiverse and Aaron’s personality rather than that he thought your presence was a nuisance. Supposed he was wrong. The casual dehumanization was all he needed to decide how to proceed. Miles hopped a few steps back, his brows furrowing and his grip on your firm.

“Tell Gwen I’m sorry.”

Aaron clicked his tongue. “Tell her yourself.”

#this is a self indulgent romance fic first and foremost >:( no logic!#gonna take a break from this for a moment though #miles morales imagine #miles morales x y/n #miles morales x reader #miles morales x you #earth 42 miles x you #earth 42 miles x reader #earth 42 miles morales x reader

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l0v3tast3 · 1 year

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young!reader who leaves for a mission and comes back with a horse

✎ petah. . . . . the horse is here.

✎ tags: young military reader, gender neutral reader, not proofread im too cool for that

♡ "don't wander off," price had said. "you'll just get lost out here," he had also said. you did wander off, but miraculously did not get lost (entirely).

♡ the guys are panicked. you're all stuck out in the middle of absolute nowhere, no buildings for several kilometers in every direction. it's just sparse forest aside from your little cabin safehouse, cut off from anything and everything. and you're gone.

♡ they had attempted to search the surrounding area once they realized you weren't close by, but rain soon started drizzling down and turning to a steady pour not long after, covering an already setting sun. soap and gaz both insisted on staying out later than price and ghost, but were soon driven inside by the soon-to-be pitch black sky.

♡ they take their usual turns of being on watch throughout the night, but no one really sleeps. it's several hours into the night when soap suddenly shouts that you're back. they're all rushing to the door as you come in, sopping wet and violently shivering. despite that, you greet them with your usual smile (just with chattering teeth) and a cheery "hey guys!"

♡ you're just like, "sorry i was gone so long" and gaz and soap simultaneously ask where the hell you've been, while ghost asks why you didn't radio in at least, and price tells you that he told you this would happen. and you have the audacity to look confused, as if you didn't think they'd worry when you suddenly went dark for hours without warning.

♡ you sheepishly explain that you had seen an animal and followed after it and got just a little bit lost on your way back for awhile. price once again says that he told you this would happen, and you roll your eyes. soap grabs blankets from the grubby couch in the tiny living room and gaz tells you to go change.

♡ once you do, you're basically ordered to bundle yourself up and sit in front of the fireplace while price gives you the usual lecture of "you need to radio in" and "you can't just go wandering off". everyone stifles their laughter when they see the dead stare you give him the entire time.

♡ they poke fun at you for wandering off after some animal until you decide to march away dramatically to where you had declared your sleeping place (it was a corner behind a half wall that you had shoved your stuff into, about halfway across the room from everyone else).

♡ the rest of the night passes by uneventfully, and you all wake up as the rain tapers off and a gray haze settles over everything. soap and ghost go outside while the rest of you are still waking up (except for price, hunched in a chair, still snoring).

♡ you're slowly stretching out your stiff muscles when soap and ghost come marching back in and over to you. soap asks you why there is a horse tethered to the overhang at the back of the house.

♡ "i told you, i found an animal," you say. they exchange a look while gaz's head perks up and a quiet "huh?" escapes him.

♡ and so ensues ghost telling you off for, one, wandering off after a horse, and two, staying out for hours without radioing because of a horse, and three, bringing said horse back with you to your safehouse. you still look confused, and it makes him go on further. price is awake now and he's pretty sure he's still dreaming; soap and gaz are quietly making jokes and snickering ghost's increasingly annoyed body language.

♡ ghost and you go back and forth for about ten minutes before he gives up and stalks off. price, now out of his stupor, tells you that you can't keep the horse. before you can start protesting again, he follows up with the fact that there's a farm a few miles away, and they might take the horse.

♡ soap and gaz come with you as you dejectedly lead the horse in the direction of the farm (they mostly just came with because price told them to make sure you actually gave up the horse). you complain the whole way there, talking to the horse about how they're all mean and stupid while soap mumbles a quick "we're not stupid!"

♡ you're at the edge of the field and the horse doesn't want to leave your side. you say your final goodbyes, sniffling through it all, before gaz sighs and slaps the horse to send it running. you glare at him and he says you were just torturing yourself at that point, to which you you just flip him off. he puts his hands up and turns to start walking back to the safehouse.

♡ soap gives you a comforting pat on the back while gently leading you back after you watch the horse get closer to the farm for a little bit longer. he gives you some words of encouragement and manages to cheer you up with the fact that the horse will be well taken care of in the hands of real farmers (you say you could be a real farmer, he says he knows).

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brooooswriting · 1 year

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Request: also i have a request for sam or melissa so yeah just write anything this woman just She invaded my heart and mind and I think I'm stuck in a bind loving her over the course of a month

maybe mayyyybe make if it's okay make it about How delicious you look, pleading beneath her, waiting to claim you, and how unfair it is for you to surrender to her while you are the one who holds her heart in your hands.

Decided to just post it, please don’t hate me😂

Mine (smut)

Sam Carpenter x reader

A/n: this is my first smut so don’t be too harsh but critique is definitely appreciated. Also not sure if I’ll write it again

Sam couldn’t believe her eyes, she couldn’t believe that it was actually, really happening. She has loved you for so long and she wanted you beneath her for so long that now when it was finally happening she couldn’t believe that it actually was.

The evening started out rather normal, you were at mindys with the rest of the group, sat beside Sam on the ground as all of you talked. At some point, with maybe a bit of liquor involved, all of you started to play some kind of ‘truth or dare’ card game that Chad bought a couple of days ago. The whole thing started innocent, questions like ‘when was your first kiss’ or some shit like that but then it suddenly turned. Which led to you sitting on sams lap for one round, well the card said one game but the brunettes arms wrapped around your hip, not letting you go.

Then it was Anika’s turn, she was supposed to kiss the hottest person in the room, Chad decided that she wasn’t allowed to kiss Mindy as that would be ‘boring’. So she turned to you and gave you a quick kiss which made both of you giggle like teenage girls, there were definitely no feelings between you two and everybody knew that. Mindy was with Anika and everybody knew that you liked Sam, well except for Sam. But the fact that she kissed you and the way she giggled made her feel weird and protective over you, her arms pulling you closer.

At one point you were leaning back into her, your head resting on her shoulder as you were slurring your words. “Ohhh, y/n, if you could go on a date with one person, like you could choose every person, really everyone, who would you choose?” Mindy asked, Tara grinning as she already knew what was going to be the answer. “Everybody? Like from the whole wide world?” You asked again with a drunk giggle. “Definitely Sam, no question. Like I would kill to go on a date with her, just look at her. I mean like wow and then imagine just having a date with her and getting to talk with her, alone? My dream come true” She chuckled as you breathed into her neck, “come on. Imma get you home” she hoisted you up into her arms and said goodbye to the rest. The rest giggled as you fist bumped the air as if you just won the lotto.

Sam carried you to her apartment and sat you down on her bed to clean you up a bit. She got some makeup wipes and some of her cloths before helping you into the bathroom so you could brush your teeth. “You’re really pretty you know” you mumbled as she carefully wiped away your foundation and in that moment she wanted to throw everything down and leave. You had no right to have her in such a tight chokehold and you definitely had no right to make her heart beat that fast whenever you’re around. “You are very pretty too” she mumbled instead and went to throw the wipe away. “Come on, you gotta change. There are clothes next to you, do you think you can change on your own?” You shook your head with a small pout which caused her to sigh. “Well then let’s go” she carefully grabbed the hem of your shirt and pulled it over your head, the woman had to focus really hard to not stare at your exposed upper body. When she grabbed the shirt you were going to wear her eyes focused on your face where she could make out a small smirk on your lips, your eyes filling with amusement. You were teasing her and if you weren’t drunk she definitely would have done something about it.

“There you go, all changed” she took a step back to admire you in her way too big cloths while you mumbled a thank you. Sam then turned around to change herself, giving you a perfect view of her backside. “You know, your ass looks great in these jeans” was the first thing you said that didn’t sound completely drunk, but it still made her blush. “I meant what I said, I would love to go on a date with you, but only if you claim me as yours afterwards. Wanna be yours for so long” you mumbled as you tried to keep your eyes off of her changing figure. When she was done changing she walked towards the door, “nooo, where are you going?” You grumbled as her hand turned the door handle. “I’m going to get you some water and some advil” you grunted and she went to get those for you.

When she returned you took the medicine and fell back into bed while she was just standing in front of the bed. “I’m trying to figure out if it’s morally alright to sleep in the same bed with you” she responded to your confused look, “well, it’s rather immorally to leave me alone, I mean what if I throw up or die or something?” She couldn’t help but laugh, she then climbed into bed next to you. She was about to scoot away a bit to give you your personal space but you were already cuddled into her, your arm around her waist, legs tangled and your face in the crook of her neck. A couple of seconds later you were out like a light.

Sleep didn’t come that easy to Sam, not with you that close to her. You didn’t even know that you held her heart in your hands and she hated the fact that all the things you said tonight were probably just your drunk mind mixing stuff up.

At one point she seemed to have fallen asleep too. Because the next morning she woke up with you on top of her, your breath tickling her neck and to her surprise, her arms were also wrapped around you. It was fairly early which made her think that you’d be asleep for a while but you woke up around 10 minutes later. “Good morning, how are you feeling?” The older Carpenter asked as her hand rubbed up and down your back, “I feel fine, thanks to you” you smiled and kissed her neck, your hands carefully sliding under her shirt, your thumbs rubbing over her sides. “You know, I meant what I said yesterday” you mumbled with a smile, you pulled your head back a bit so you could see her. You thought that she was going to be happy but she looked nervous. You thought that it was going to go away soon and the way her hand rested on your thigh when you sat up made you take it a step further, you pulled your/her shirt over your head. “I’m going to get you some breakfast” she was gone under you in a couple of seconds and made her way towards the door. “Samantha Carpenter” you called out making her stop, “what the hell?” She turned around towards you but her eyes still didn’t look at you, “I’m getting you stuff” her voice was only a mumble. “I was sitting on top of you. Without a shirt. After telling you that I liked you” there was a moment of silence before you continued, “if you didn’t want me you could have just said so.” You were about to get the shirt and storm off when she closed the door again, “it’s not that, I want you. I do” you rolled your eyes. “Oh really? Because I am sitting here, waiting for you to claim me and you think about breakfast?!” You groaned and threw yourself back into the bed, your hair sprawling over the pillows and your back arching.

Sams heartbeat sped up when she saw you like that on her bed, without a shirt and in her boxers. “Fuck” was the only thing she grumbled as she walked towards you, watching you like you were her prey. “You want me to claim you?” Her voice was deeper than normal and still had the morning raspiness which made your heart flutter. She crawled onto the bed and hovered above you, her hands grabbing your and holding them above your hand. The brunette started kissing you, it started out with pecks, small and light kisses that were pressed against your lips. It felt like her lips barely even touched yours, they were grazing over yours, butterflies erupting in your stomach. After a small moan slipped from your lips the kisses started to be more forceful, her lips were now pressed against yours, full contact and her tongue slipping into your mouth.

She kept kissing you until you had to pull away for air, her lips kissed down to your neck. She carefully grazed over your cheek and jaw until she reached the beginning of your neck. The kisses were now stronger, you could feel every bit of her lips and how they made their way down to the point where your neck and your shoulder met. She started to suck on your skin, hard but not hard enough to leave her mark which made you whine. By now she held both of your hands in one of hers, the other was stationed next to your head to hold herself up. You were whining when you realized that she wasn’t sucking hard enough to leave her mark. It meant that she wasn’t claiming you. She pulled away to look at you, both of your pupils blown while you had your bottom lip between your teeth.

“Are you sure this is okay? And you’re not still drunk?” It was cute, the way she still asked eben after you told her so many times. “I’m so sure, you can’t believe how sure I am that I want you” she smiled and let go of your hands. One of hers made its way up and down your thigh while she was watching you. This wasn’t her first time, she had her fair share of men and women but she never once felt like this, she couldn’t control her heartbeat, she felt hot and the feelings inside of her felt uncontrollable.

Her hand made its way back up and she started to play with your breasts. You weren’t sure how she did it but she just knew how to touch you to make you feel like you were on cloud nine. When she finally had enough self control to pull her eyes away from your form, her head ducked down to join her hand. “Samy, please” you begged, the sound worsening Sams heat and the nickname quickening her pulse. The way you begged her was about to kill her, she kissed down your stomach and along the waistline of your boxers. You were awkward, you didn’t knew where to put your hands, they were grabbing the sheets so hard that your knuckles turned white. “You want me? Want me claim you?”the way her voice rasped the words out made your hips buck which caused her to chuckle. She pulled down the boxers and you immediately opened your legs wider, you would do anything for this woman.

She kissed your thighs, “please Sam, I can’t wait any longer” and truth be told, she also couldn’t. Her finger carefully circled your clit, your hips bucking up and a small moan coming from your lips. “Do you know how pretty you look? You couldn’t possibly know how long I’ve wanted this” her lips were back on your neck, this time they were sucking hard enough to leave bruises and marks. You were finally hers. Sam could see you clench around nothing when she finally left her mark which made her smirk. “You like being mine? Want me to completely claim you? Make sure nobody else ever touches what’s mine?” You moaned and nodded, the moans getting louder when she finally inserted her finger.

She couldn’t believe that you were actually laying underneath her, whimpering, moaning and pleading for her. Her mind couldn’t comprehend the things that just happened, how you might just finally be hers and how you chose her while you could have basically anyone. She loved the way your body shuttered when she curled her finger just right, how your hips pushed up everytime she touched your clit and how your moans got even more high pitched when she kissed your neck.

“Is it okay if I add another one?” You nodded enthusiastically which made her chuckle a bit before pressing another kiss to your cheek. “Tell me if it hurts okay?” Her voice was soft and filled with love and concern, it increased the pleasure you felt. She was careful, watching your face closely and immediately stopping when she was your face twisted in pain. “It hurts a bit” you mumbled, this wasn’t your first time but to be true you could count the times you had sex on one hand. So this was all pretty new and Sam knew that, it made her even more careful. Some of your friends told you that they thought it was uncomfortable or embarrassing to slow down during intercourse but with Sam it felt normal, like she understood whatever you had.

“It’s okay, we can stay like this until you’re comfortable or I can pull out, whatever you’re comfortable with” you’re heart melted at the concern in her voice, you decided on waiting. Sam busied herself by kissing you softly to show you that the break was totally fine. Due to the not moving your face slowly got his normal color back, or well at least it got less red. “You’re doing so good, taking everything I give you so well” and your face was back at totally red and it seemed like your body also showed positive signs when it comes to praise as you started contracting around her fingers. The nod that followed gave her the start signal to continue her movements, “god, you’re squeezing my fingers so tight baby” it made you contract even harder which made her groan. The brunette then made her way back down between your legs again, kissing and sucking your clit while her fingers kept working your G-point.

Sam knew she had stamina but when it came to you beneath her withering it gave her a whole new energy. She was pumping her fingers so fast that your body could barely register the movement, it made you whine and move around. Your body itself was unsure if it wanted more pleasure or the pleasure to stop, it was just too good and too much to decide.

Not long after you felt pressure built up in your lower abdomen, “Sam, baby, I’m going to cum” you moaned out, the moans quickly turning high pitched as the pressure grew. “It’s okay, I’m here. You can let go” her soft voice made you relax a bit. One of your hands went into her hair while the other one was grabbed by her hand, your fingers interviened with hers. You came with a loud moan, your body going stiff and your hand squeezing hers before you completely relaxed, melting into the bed.

She helped you ride out your orgasm before placing soft kisses on the way to your head, “you did so good. Are you alright? Do you need anything?” Her hands rubbed soothing circles over your sides while she placed some kisses on your forehead. “What about you?” You asked concerned but she was quick to shake her head “this was about you. I’m fine with watching you. So what do you need?” This woman was unbelievable, there was no questioning that. “Cuddles” You croaked out, your voice dry from all the moaning. She nodded and laid back down, opening her arms for you.

There was a moment of silence, you tried to calm your breathing while your head rested on her chest and she softly stroked over your hair, helping you relax. “Does this mean that we are you know?” You asked your hand playing with her fingers, the nervousness was easy to see. “Well, I didn’t claim you for nothing did I?” She grinned and placed another kiss onto one of the hickeys she gave you. Then there was another moment of silence, both of you just basking in the presence of each other.

The silence was broken when your stomach started to rumor, both of you giggling at the noise. “I’ll make you breakfast, you know where the bathroom is if you wanna shower before coming outside. You can take any of my cloths alright? You look cute in them” she kissed you quickly before putting on a hoodie and walking away. You watched her walk away before going under the shower.

Showering turned out to be harder than you thought, your legs were barely responding to the commandos you gave them. They were buckling and shaking with every step, even after the shower.

You grabbed some boxers and a hoodie that completely covered the boxers and made your way outside. The moment you reached the living room Tara was laughing, “wild night y/n/n?” She laughed out making you grunt and waddle toward the kitchen where Sam was cooking. “Don’t listen to her” she said and wrapped an arm around your waist to pull you even closer, “you looked pretty great under me like that, asking me or rather begging me to claim you” this time your head turned as red as a tomato making both of the siblings laugh. “I hate you” was the only thing you grumbled in response. “If that’s how it sounds when somebody hates you, I should definitely make an enemy” was Tara’s answer as she made her way towards her room, claiming to still have homework.

“So, a date?” The older brunette grinned at you.

The next couple of days the whole friend group teased you over the hickeys that covered your whole neck. There was no hiding them and to be honest, you didn’t want to. You asked her to claim you and she happily did.

The unbelievable things that dating this woman would bring you were unthinkable and you couldn’t wait to explore them all.

#reader insert #brooooswriting #sam carpenter x you #sam carpenter x y/n #sam carpenter x reader #sam carpenter #sam carpenter x female reader #melissa barrera x reader #smut

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babygorewhore · 10 months

Text

Scars. Kai anderson Smut.

Requested by Anonymous!

You have two dark secrets. Both of them you try and keep behind closed doors. However, your boyfriend Kai, knows something is going on and is determined to find out what it is.

Warnings: DARK! Eating disorder. Self harm themes. Virgin! Reader! Oral! Male and female recieving. PnV! Spanking. Do not read if these themes make you uncomfortable! A bit of a slow burn.

You shoved another piece of food down your throat despite you feeling sick. Kai chatted aimlessly with one of his members. Something you still weren’t used too. Members. It was a cult. Something he frequently denied.

You had never had a boyfriend before, just a few infatuations here and there as you grew up. The relationship was a jump start. He first kissed you last month after only knowing you two days. He somehow knew you were inexperienced. A virgin. You grimaced at the word.

Nausea grew in your stomach and you got up quickly, rushing to the downstairs bathroom. Kai watched silently as you closed the door. You only had a few minutes, you stuck your fingers down your throat.

You gagged before the contents came up, emptying your stomach as you held the toilet. Afterwards, you scrubbed your mouth clean and rinsed with mouthwash. You glanced in the mirror. Your cheeks were puffy. It looked like you cried instead of making yourself sick.

You hated your body. Hated the way it looked in pictures. You mostly hated your stomach. You gathered the flesh in your hands, wishing you could just slice it off. Could you? You thought about what you brought with you to Kai’s house. You didn’t bring any blades with you, since you didn’t plan on staying more than a couple of days.

A knock sounded at the door and you quickly smoothed your clothes. Opening the door, you found Kai leaning against the frame. “You okay, doll?” He asked.

You nodded rapidly. “Yeah. Just a little nauseous.” Kai immediately held the back of his palm to your forehead. “Are you okay? You feel a little warm.” His eyes swept over your face and you leaned away. Nodding.

“Yeah. I’m okay. Um…where am I going to sleep?” You felt stupid for asking but you were nervous. Kai smirked at you as he grasped your hands together.

“With me, of course.” He pressed a kiss to your cheek, lingering on the spot before he let go. “Upstairs. First room on the left. Get yourself comfortable. I’ll be up later.” He gave you another kiss before he turned around. You sighed in relief before going upstairs.

His bedroom was big, his bed made and everything was organized. Except for the drawings and notebooks all over his desk. You glanced around, paranoid he would come in at any second. You crept forward, lifting one small notebook up and you read the contents.

‘She’s always wearing long sleeves. Avoiding questions. I can tell she has things she’s hiding from me. I’ll get it out of her. Eventually.’ Your stomach plummets as you put the notebook back where it belongs.

He was suspicious. You had to be more subtle with it. You subconsciously wiped your mouth, trying to make sure nothing was leftover. You were growing hungry again. Given you never kept the contents of your meals down. Your stomach growled as you miserably laid on the bed.

You were tired. You hadn’t been home all day. You were hot, it was summer and you were in a sweatshirt and sweatpants. You ignored the sweat pooling on your forehead as you turned over.

Somehow you had drifted to sleep but you woke to the feeling of lips brushing your nose.

Your eyes opened slowly, you found Kai leaning above you, his face inches from yours. He smiled at you as you woke up, the blankets wrapped around your legs. “Kai?”

“Mmmm, sorry it’s so late. Baby.” Kai captured your lips in a heated kiss. His hand pulled you from the back of your head, his tongue brushing against your lower lip, inviting him in.

“Kai-“ You spoke, trying to pull your face away. But Kai kept kissing you, pulling your lower lip with his teeth. “Kai- I’m not ready for this-“ You protested as his hand settled low on your hips.

“Shhh. I know.” Kai said as he deepens the kiss. He settled inbetween your legs, kissing down your neck as he sloppily sucked your pulse point. His hand drifted to your stomach and you froze.

“Stop.” He paused, leaning up to look into your eyes.

“Something wrong?” He questioned. You shuffled out his hold and pulled your shirt down, hating that you remembered what he wrote.

“I’m not ready.” You repeated, smoothing back your hair. Kai pulled back and you dreaded the next couple of seconds but he took your hand and kissed your knuckles.

“I’m sorry, little lamb. I got carried away.” You gave him a small smile as he gave you another kiss.

“You’re so shy.” He chuckled and you looked away.

“I’ve never had a boyfriend.” You sighed and he nodded. “I know that’s lame for someone my age.” You shrugged.

“It’s kind of hot. That no one else has gotten to do this.” Kai leaned forward to kiss you again. Pausing over your cheek. “It’s addicting. Kissing you.” He said.

“Really?”

“Mhm.” But he pulled away. Still holding your hand. “I really came in here to tell you. I’m going to be gone tonight. I have a message to send.”

“What kind of message?” You asked him.

“Mmmm. You’ll see. Soon,” He rubbed his nose against yours before exiting the bedroom.

When you turned on the news in the basement, two days later. You were shocked. A brutal slaughter of a couple. Stabbed to death. The smiley symbol. The same Kai was always drawing. You were cold as you realized how deep this really was.

You paced in the basement as the hours went by. He still wasn’t home. Your stomach burned from throwing up repeatedly today from stress.

Why could he be so soft with you, yet be such a brutal monster outside? The door opened. You looked but saw it was only samuels. Who sneered at you.

You couldn’t take it. The anxiety. The dread. None of it. You marched upstairs, to his bedroom before going to his bathroom. You opened the cabinets, relentless in your search before finding his unopened box of razor blades. It wouldn’t make a difference if you took only one. Just one would be enough to last you for a few days. Carefully tucking it back, you lifted up your scarred stomach.

You breathed heavily as you bit down on your shirt, wincing as the blade went across your skin. What you didn’t notice, was that Kai opened the door.

“Y/n!” He shouted and you jumped. Whipping around. Your eyes widened in horror as he rushed towards you. He yanked the razor out of your hand. Throwing it across the bathroom.

“What the fuck? What are you doing?” He snarled at you. You flinched back, intimidated by his anger. This wasn’t usually how he was towards you.

Kai went to lift up your shirt that was stained with blood but you leaned back, avoiding his hand. “Don’t.” You said.

Kai ignored your plea as he pulled your shirt up, revealing the new wound along with several old scars. You tried to shimmy away but he was stronger than you. As he held you still, his eyes raked all over your body. He pulled your shirt over your head, despite your protests.

He had never seen your body. Never outside of a oversized shirt. Leaving you in your bra. “Step out of your shorts.” He commanded. You shook your head wildly.

“I can’t do that.” He started to pull them down and you smacked his hands off.

“Stop it.” Tears welled in your eyes but you didn’t have any fight as he pulled back. Pointing to your shorts.

“Take them. Off.” He ground through his teeth. You shook as you got out of your shorts.

You were only in your bra and underwear. Exposing all of your secrets written on your body. Your stomach growled as he stared at you. You trembled as he reached forward, taking in your scars with his finger tips. You lowered your head.

“Mmm, my little innocent girl.” Kai tsked as he brought up your arm. His lips brushed against the biggest scar but you pulled back.

“What is going on? The way you run off to the bathroom. Hiding behind your clothes. This is it? You cut yourself?”

“It’s not just that! I-I don’t like myself.” You stuttered.

“What else? What else have you been doing?” Kai cupped your chin, forcing you to look at him.

“I- I don’t want to talk about it.”

“You don’t have a choice. Tell me. Right now. Or else you’re not getting these back.” He pointed to your discarded clothes.

“I throw up. I force myself to throw up after my meals.” Kai pales. Shaking his head, he cups your face.

“My little lamb, you’re in so much pain.” He cooes. “Is that why you don’t want me to see your body?”

You nod slowly, his thumbs rub circles over your cheeks before he leans back, taking in your figure. He spun you around slowly, before setting you straight before him. “You’re real pretty. You know that?”

You shook your head.

“It all makes sense now.” He said, his hands resting on your shoulders. “But you hurting yourself? It stops now.”

“What does that mean?” Kai wrapped his hands around your thighs, lifting you up, encouraging you to wrap them around his waist. You held onto him as he walked to the bed.

He laid you on your back, his hand trailing down your stomach over the scars. His knee separated your thighs, leaving you exposed. You looked at him with doe eyes, breathing heavily as his eyes devoured your body.

He leaned down, his lips lightly brushing against yours. You closed your eyes, ready for his kiss when you didn’t feel anything. You looked at him, he tossed over a long sleeved shirt to you. “You can wear this. I have some matters to discuss with my members. We can continue this…later.”

That was a few days ago. He locked the sharp objects away, as much as you hated it. And made you sit with him for at least twenty minutes after you ate. Something he no doubt read about online. But you boiled over at the loss of privacy. But that meant he cared. Right?

But one thing changed. You wanted him to take you. Despite your nervousness. You wondered if he was doing it on purpose. The lingering touches. The fleeting kisses. Everything. You wanted more. Craved him. It was a game. You knew that. But yet…you couldn’t help but wonder. How good would it feel? He was way more experienced. Something he talked about when you first met. So, in the meantime while he spent hours slaving away to his cause, you fantasized about him. Even dreaming about what it would be like. To feel his fingers inside you. For him to lower his mouth…down…down…but would he? He had seen your scars. Found out your deepest secret.

“Y/n.” You lifted your head, not noticing everyone was gone from the basement.

“Come here. I want to ask you a few things.” Kai was sitting at the table. The infamous pinky swear. Something you had seen, but never partook.

You sat across from him, and he extended his hand. Pinky up. You joined your fingers and he looked deep into your eyes.

“Tell me. What is your deepest desire?” You bristled. Knowing the answer. But you were embarrassed to say.

“And make sure you tell me the truth.” He added.

“My deepest desire is…to feel you.” You said sheepishly.

“I still touch you. You do feel me.” Kai said to you.

“Not in that way.” You whispered. “I mean…I want you to touch me. More intimately .”

“You want me to fuck you?” Kai still gripped your finger. You wanted to faint at his brass wording.

“Yeah-yeah I do-“

“Why now? You told me you weren’t ready.” His tone was still serious but you sensed a slight tease in his words.

“I-I wasn’t. But now…I think I am?” Kai nodded before glancing down at your lips.

“I want to fuck you.” Kai tells you simply. “I want to splay you out, right here. Right now. Get you on your knees like the good little slut you are. Watch you take me whole. Cover your face with my cum.” Your heart hammered as Kai tightens his grip on your finger and leans forward.

“But, I think you want to know also, what I would do for you? Isnt that right, little lamb?”

“Yeah.” You squeak. Kai loosens his hand and motions for you to come closer.

You do and he looks down at your lips. “I’ve been curious about what that wet, tight pussy tastes like. You know. The way your clenching your thighs together. Trying to make sure you’re not so wet? Is that what you’re doing?” You couldn’t answer as you watched him dart his eyes at your pants.

“You-you want that?” You asked him, still insecure of your body.

Kai narrows his eyes at you. “You think I care about scars?”

“They’re ugly. Why would you want to fuck someone like me?” Your question hung in the air for several seconds before Kai licked his lips.

“Mmmm. Scars are personal. They tell me things about a person. They tell me about pain. Suffering. And if there’s both of that, then that means I can show you how good it feels to feel my tongue between those legs. Why it’s so worth it to fuck someone no matter what you look like because at the end of the day,” Kai breaks the contact and settles his hand across your neck. “I want to make you scream. Beg. Crawl, suck. Are you going to be a good girl, and listen to me?” His voice grows quieter as he continues and your slick grows.

“Yes. Divine ruler.” The name came out of you without warning and Kai lurches forward, smashing his lips to yours in an rough kiss. You half moan half squeal as he yanks you into his lap, setting you right on his hard dick.

Your hands flew to his hair, tugging on the strands as he breathed you in, his own fingers pressing against your back as his clothed cock dug into you. You both moaned into each others mouths, he drove his erection harder into you as you felt his teeth pull on your lower lip. As if he couldn’t get enough of you.

Kai tapped your leg, signaling you to get down and you did, stopping mid kiss and he guided you on your knees. “Fuck, this is even better than I thought. You look so eager to please me, aren’t you little lamb?” He cooed and brushed his thumb over your cheek.

You nodded as he stripped down to his grey boxers. His cock hard, evident in front of your face. You licked your lips as he slowly peeled them down over his thighs, his red tip was leaking with precum as he gently stroked his length. “Open your mouth, princess.” He encouraged you and you obeyed him.

His coated tip ran across your tongue, as you hallowed your cheeks, sucking softly at him. He started thrusting his pelvis into your mouth, his tip reaching further and further to the back of your throat. He set his hand steadily on your head, gripping your hair as your eyes weld with tears at the salty taste. You sucked him, then ran your tongue over him and he lulled his head back groaning.

“Fuck, that feels so good.” Kai praised you. “You sure you haven’t done this?” You breathed out of your nose as your knees pressed on ground.

He went to your throat, causing you to gag uncomfortably and you tried to pull off. He held you, still thrusting as you couldn’t breathe normally. Finally, he released you and you doubled over. You wiped your chin as he shuddered, climaxing by finishing himself off with his hand. “Mmmm. You looked so fucking good choking on it.” Kai crooked his finger. “Lay down, open your legs for me.” He commanded.

You followed orders, laying on your back as you separated your knees. Kai crawled to you, looking at you with hungry eyes. “How does it feel? Seeing me on my knees for you?”

Kai wasted no time pulling off your pants and underwear, exposing your slick pussy. He brought you closer to his mouth by your hips, laying his tongue flat against your pussy. Your breath hitched as he kitten licked your clit, warmth pooling over you as he licked up and down before pressing his tongue inside. Your head laid back on the floor as he devoured you, taking every ounce of wetness with his mouth, his hand kept you from jerking your hips too much.

Pleasure grew in your belly, tightening in your lower half as he continued. He pressed two big fingers against your entrance, curling them deep inside. Reaching a delicate spot inside you. Snuggly fit in you. You moaned as sweat pooled at your forehead.

“I can’t- take it- I’m gonna-“

“Cum. I want you to cum all over my face.” He instructed before quickening the pace of his tongue.

You released then, rolling your pelvis up as you grew wetter, it trailed down your thighs. Your legs trembled as he pulled away, wiping your slick off his chin.

“Aw, your legs are shaking. Did it feel that good?” He teased.

“Mhm.” Was all you could say. Kai settled inbetween your legs, his heavy cock lining up with your pussy. He pushed the tip inside, you gasped at the sensation as he leaned down, pressing further as he sloppily kissed your neck.

“Fuck, you’re so tight.” Kai breathed as he rutted against you, hands pining your wrists down.

You winced at the pressure inside you, it hurt because of his size but he showed no sign of slowing down. You wanted to reach down to your clit but he hands trapped yours tightly.

“I’m gonna need to go faster.” He grunted and you nodded, thankful that Kai released one of your hands, his own thumb reaching to rub circles on your clit. Your eyes rolled back as a greater wave of pleasure came, much bigger than before.

He increased his pace, his face buried in your neck. “Fuck.” His movements grew sloppy and your nails dug into his shoulders.

“I’m gonna cum-“ you said to him and he circled faster.

He gave one last thrust before he stilled, you felt your own release collide with his as warmth spread through you. And you thanked yourself that you went on birth control. Kai pulled out of you and gave you another kiss.

“You feel so fucking good.” He laid next to you, laying a smack on your ass. You gasped at the contact.

“next time you need pain, you’re gonna let me know. And I’ll make sure to pull you over my knee.” You reached forward to grab his hand and he interlaced fingers together.

“Did my scars bother you?” You asked him.

“No. But I’m still not going to let you do that.” He promised before bringing your knuckles to his lips.

@spill-the-t @icannot3 @ifeeltoofuckingmuch @demxnicprxncess @evanptrss @howtobesasha @randodummy

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panda-writes-kpop · 4 months

Text

Second Chances ~ Pirate!Karina

a/n: another pirate fic, but it was inspired by a conversation about losers that @kingmaker-a and I had. enjoy the fruits of my continued pirate brain rot and my experience of being a loser for nineteen years and counting! :]

tw: guns, blood, and violence (oh my!), alcohol (reader has a preference for brandy but just imagine something different if you don't like it), reader is a professional little shit (and this is a bit of a self-insert plz leave me alone)

♡ Masterlist ♡

summary: you're given a second chance at pirating because Karina fucked her first impression with you. To prove your worth (and to give her a second chance), she takes you out to a local shooting range where sparks fly (literally and figuratively).

As a former pirate warlord in a small town, your life couldn't get more boring.

You had spent your younger years chasing fame, glory and riches - and look where that got you. You were stuck on a shitty island with no crew and no way out except swimming (which would most likely result in certain death).

Once, a lifetime ago, it seems, you had your face plastered on every wanted poster board on every island you visited. Your head was worth a pretty penny, which made you keep your crew on a short leash. If one of them babbled, you'd find out pretty quickly.

Rats are a nuisance found at the worst time, so you'd only found out about your disloyal crew when you were disputing fraudulent charges with a nearby pirate crew.

With the world hunting your head, a pissed-off group of enemy pirates, and a pit of vipers you had once called your crew, you were on the next sailboat out from the coastline. You didn't have much more than the shirt on your back, so you fled to the first island that the ship ported on - the same shitty island you were stuck at, three years laters.

Three years might as well be eternity in the world of pirates - you barely recognized any of the pirates that were on the wanted boards. It's not like you wanted the bounty - doing odd jobs around the island kept a roof over your head, food in your stomach, and enough alcohol to clear your thoughts for a few hours.

Yet here you were, on a quiet island, in the first bar from the docks. With a bottle of brandy (the bartender started giving you the bottle after growing tired of refilling your glass again and again), you eye the newest group of pirates to make themselves at home on the most unbecoming island on this planet.

You didn't think anything of it - pirates frequent bars like birds frequent feeders - but a glimpse of shiny red-hair nearly causes you to choke on your brandy.

The infamous Red-Hair Pirates, led by none other than Captain Winter. A fierce fighter known for her loyal, deadly crew, and you wanted nothing more than to stay out of her way.

She could kill you without a second look, not to mention that her crew would rip you to shreds afterwards like rabid hyenas.

You wouldn't find any peace tonight, not when an unloaded rifle crashes against your shoulder. It takes every muscle in your body to resist the urge to fight as a girl with short black hair scrambles to grab it.

"Sorry, fuck, I'm sorry." She slurs before crashing against the table.

Brandy spills all over your clothes as your temper crashes against its lid - you're almost at your breaking point.

"It's fine." You teeth grind against each other as you spit out your answer.

"Your brandy-"

"-just take your damn gun and go!" You shove the gun into her arms, which sends her tumbling to the ground.

Eyes follow the two of you as the girl attempts to get up, at least three times, before another girl from her crew grabs her arm.

"C'mon, Rina, let's go." The second girl, with light blonde hair, shoves Rina towards the exit as you try to sink back into your seat as far as possible.

Everyone's eyes are still lingering on you as you pull out a small knife - not to kill or show dominance, but to perform a favorite party trick of yours.

You spot the target board on the other side of the bar. When a bartender moves out of the way, you quickly aim and fire the knife while looking the opposite direction.

The gasps and cheers tell you that you've hit your mark while you attempt to clean up the spilt brandy with a few napkins. You'd probably smell like liquor for days, if not weeks, but you'd learn to live with it, just like everything else.

After you dry most of the liquor off the table and your clothes, another bottle of brandy lands on your table with a sharp thud.

"I don't take pity booze." You sharply answer.

"It's not free, but I'm asking for five minutes of your time." Captain Winter places her hand on her hip as you hesitantly grab the bottle.

"Take as long as you need, Captain." You take a swig of the brandy, and you're pleasantly surprised by the flavor. "Top-shelf booze?"

"We got lucky on our last ship takeover." Winter slides into the other side of the booth. "Are you looking for any riches?"

"You're trying to buy my loyalty with alcohol." You scan Winter for any malicious intent, but she only has a simple smile on her face.

"Is it working?"

"Depends on what you're offering and why you're so interested in me."

"You threw a knife from across the room without looking and managed to hit a target dead-on." Winter leans in before folding her hands. "Are you that accurate with a gun?"

"I am, but you wouldn't know that unless you knew who I was." You lean back against the booth before taking another drink of brandy. "You're well read, Winter."

"The lucky guess excuse doesn't fool you, then. It's an honor to be in your presence, Captain."

"Are you looking for a marksman?" You deadpan as she nods.

"I can't guarantee great pay or a path back to notoriety, but-"

"-I'm in."

Due to the damages to Winter's ship, you're stuck on land for a couple more days. After your little stunt at your most frequented bar, you decided to go to a much quieter place, farther from the docks for tonight's drinking session.

Unfortunately, trouble finds you before you can find it. The drunken girl from before, Rina, is stunningly sober as she walks through the bar doors.

Once she spots you, her eyes become shifty as her posture tenses up. A smile plays on your face - a nervous marksman, a paradox for the ages - so you ask for another glass of brandy before you wave her over.

"You're here later than I expected." She softly says before swirling the brandy in the glass in front of her.

"And you're here sober. Guess we're both full of surprises." You quip as her eyes widen.

"I don't usually have that much to drink. We had a good plunder earlier in the day." She's quiet for a moment before her eyes meet yours. "Sorry about last night. I don't hold my whiskey as well as I thought I did."

"You'll get used to it eventually, or you start drinking lighter, Rina." You sip your brandy as she chuckles into her glass.

"Karina." A subtle correction, but one you notice. "Giselle's the only one who calls me that."

"Well, Karina, it looks like you and I will be spending more time together. Your captain has recruited me as a marksman under your watch."

"If you're under my watch, then we should see what you can do," Karina pushes the glass towards the bartender after taking a final swig from the glass, "unless you're not feeling well enough?"

Her lips twist into a teasing smile as you finish off of your own glass of brandy. For someone who can't hold their liquor, she's got a mouth that will get her in trouble with the wrong people.

Luckily for her, you're not that type of person. Not anymore, at least.

"There's a shooting range a few miles from the beaten path. Unless you've got somewhere else to be, I'd be glad to show you what I've got." You slide off the stool with ease as Karina scrambles to catch up with you.

"Isn't it locked up by now? It's a few hours past sunset." She says as you scoff.

"When have pirates ever cared about rules?"

"Have you ever picked a lock before?"

You turn to Karina, who ponders your question for a moment in the glowing moonlight. Without any obstruction, it shines just enough light to illuminate her face, especially her eyes and lips.

....It's not like you were looking, though.

"I usually leave that to Giselle, she's the crafty one." Karina shrugs before pulling her jacket closer to her chest. "How much farther is this shooting range, exactly?"

In all fairness, it is a bit chilly at night, especially when you're taking a dirt path that sits close to the ocean. You've taken this path before, when you need to blow off steam or just need a break from the hustle and bustle of town life.

"Just a few more minutes up the road. You cold?" You start pulling at your overcoat, trying to undo it as quickly as possible, before Karina places a hand on your arm.

"It's alright - a little cold never killed anyone." She jokes before taking a soft breath.

You watch, albeit it a little intensely, how the air from her lips creates a soft, foggy mist that floats into the night sky. You wonder if she's putting on a brave face because she's intimidated by you or if she wants to intimidate you. Seeing as her first introduction to you was as destructive as a bull in a china shop, you could easily rule out the latter.

Karina wasn't the type to lead with authority - she left that to her Captain. From what you've seen and heard of her, she develops personal connections with her subsection of the crew, which explains the immediate offer of shooting practice. This wasn’t a test of skill, but rather, a form of camaraderie.

That was something you could respect, as a former Captain of your own crew.

A distant pang in your chest pulls your attention from Karina - did you really miss your crew that much? They were liars and scumbags, but they were family, after all.

"We're here," You curtly say as you place the lock on the gate in your hand, "hand me your hairpin."

"How did you know I had hairpins in my hair?" She asks, confused, before slowly grabbing a hairpin from her hair.

"Your hair has stayed perfectly in place since we left the bar and it's been breezy all night." You answer before holding out your other hand. "I'll give it back, I promise."

"Sounds reasonable enough." She shrugs before handing you her hairpin.

Normally, it would've taken you a few seconds to pick the lock, but Karina's presence throws you off your game. It doesn't help that she's eagerly leaning over your shoulder, which causes heat to rise to your cheeks, but the lock gives a satisfying click before you can dissolve into a nervous mess.

Her soft breath on your shoulder causes you to gently shudder. You look back at her as you pull the lock from the gate and put it in your pocket.

"You're incredibly resourceful for a simple marksman." Karina says as you open the gate for the two of you. "Are you sure you're not hiding anything from me?"

Karina offers you a brilliant smile, one that outshines the sun and the moon.

"Why don't we find out?" You give her a wink before gesturing for her to enter the gate. "My commanding lady goes first."

Her eyes widen as she slips through the gate before you, and you shut the gate as she intently watches you.

"My hairpin-" She lightly brushes a lock of stray hair behind her ear as you hold the hairpin in between your index and middle fingers.

"I've got it."

Karina holds out her hand expectantly and opens her mouth to say something, but the words die on her tongue as you quietly close the distance between the two of you. You, ever so carefully, put the hairpin back into place in Karina's hair, in the exact location that it came from.

When you pull away from her, a rosy blush covers her face as she nervously plays with the sling carry on that keeps her rifle on her back. You bite your lip as she shakes her head at you.

"You're full of surprises."

"I know." You shrug as you continue to walk towards the shooting range. "Shall we?"

The rest of the walk to the shooting range is silent, but you manage to slip the lock into your pocket during the walk.

Karina was right - you were full of surprises. You were surprised that the sound of the key banging against the lock in your pocket didn't give you away.

You'd done some personal business for the owners, and they didn't have much capital, so you simply asked for a key to their shooting range. They were more than happy to give you a spare from the keysmith, and you used it whenever you came here alone.

This time, you had something to prove, and someone to impress. Since Karina could hardly look you in the eyes every time you glanced over at her, your mission was complete.

"You've shot a rifle before." Karina folds her arms and steps away from you as you aim the barrel of the gun at the target.

"It used to be one of my favorite weapons, back when I was pirating with my crew." You casually mention before firing the weapon.

The bullet hits the center of the target, just as it always does, and Karina stares in amazement.

"Nice shot, Deadeye," Karina softly says before adding, "were you this good of a shot when you were a captain?"

"Did Winter tell you?" You ask.

Karina looks away for a moment before responding.

"I was the one who recognized you, at first. I was too drunk to remember how I got over to you, but I remember saying something to Ningning, who must've told Winter," Karina explains before meeting your eyes, "I still can't believe I made a fool of myself in front of such a notorious pirate."

Her cheeks burn bright with embarrassment, but you're quick to comfort her with a small smile and a soft hand on her shoulder.

"If it makes you feel any better, the first time I got wasted without my crew, I threw up on a Marine Officer. Don't remember how that night went, but I woke up the next day on my ship, and I was covered in someone else's blood."

Karina throws her head back and laughs, and you think that her laughter is the best sound that you've ever heard. It's much better than the jokes told at the bar, or the sleazy tactics of the salesmen that you walk past every day on your way to your job of the day.

You wish you could bottle her laughter and get drunk on the sound every night of the week. It's loud, beautiful, and it fades too quickly for your liking.

"I guess we're both natural disasters, huh?" Her warm smile causes your heart to stir as you set the rifle aside for a moment, just so you can stand closer to her.

You move away to set the rifle down in a safe location before turning around to face her.

"Enough about me. I've heard plenty about you from your crew." You say, feigning innocence, as Karina folds her arms and scoffs.

"If it's about me not being able to hold my liquor, I'm going to hunt Giselle down and-"

You take a step closer to Karina - only three steps between the two of you - before you interrupt her.

"I've heard from your Captain and her first mate that you're quite a flirt. Sometimes too much of a flirt, but it's okay to overindulge every once in a while."

Karina bats her eyelashes at you as she takes a step closer - now it's two steps between you and her.

"Would you like me to flirt with you, Captain?" You don't miss the way her eyes scan you over, shamelessly checking you out when no one's here to witness it.

"How about I go first?" You flirt right back before taking another step - now there's one step between you and her.

Karina takes another step forward - her lips are so close to mine, please kiss me - as she rests her arms at her side.

"Do your worst." She taunts before you pull her in for a long, sensual kiss.

Her hands grab for your arms as you rest your arms at her waist. You're usually not this coy with your romantic pursuits, but Karina's different from your usual type - much prettier and much kinder, if you were to be honest.

Pure adrenaline rushes through you as neither of you want to let go. To let go is to ruin the moment, to have a conversation that neither of you are ready for, but you have to do it anyway because air is a necessity to life, apparently.

"I-" Karina starts as her lips leave yours. "What about-"

She pauses before diving in for another kiss. This time, she weaves her hands through your hair as you continue to hold your waist. She's much more reluctant to let go this time, so her hands go back to rest on your arms as your hands rest on her hips.

"So... does target practice always go like this for you?" You jest as she lightly pushes you away.

"Way to ruin the moment." She jokes as you lean in to taunt her.

"So, this isn't how you treat all of your new recruits?" You grab her rifle and toss it to her.

"Just the ones I really like." She smiles at you, and you take her words at face-value.

She could be playing you for a fool, but that didn't seem like the person she was. You say the woman under the mask, the flirty disaster of a woman who took you out to target practice just so she could steal a few kisses from you.

"Do you want a few more drinks, or would you like to go back to the inn?" You ask before Karina offers you a hand.

"I think another round of drinks is in order - a round for my favorite new crew member." She emphasizes the word favorite, which makes your heart flutter more than you want to admit.

"As long as you don't throw a loaded gun at me this time, I'm in," You say before she elbows you, "okay, I'll let it go... for now."

"I'll make it up to you, I promise," She waits for you to take her hand before walking back to town with you, "you just have to give me a second chance.”

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