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#Mood Tattoo fic
surrealsunday · 2 years
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Just came in to say that I’m rewatching early seasons of Grey’s and I’m having the best time cause let’s admit it those first seasons were a great show. And it reminded me of a mood tattoo and just how great u are at capturing this whole vibe and writing in the characters. My point is - a huge thank you for you Jaime, u are a treasure, any fandom should be lucky to have u as an author. Sending all the love and kindness there is💙💙
Omgggg this is so nice 🥹🥹🥹🥹. Thank you! Creating the entire world and the vibe beyond Elu's story is super fun for me and I'm so glad you enjoy! Also, I'm glad an actual medical drama could remind you of Mood Tattoo because man oh man was I in over my head having to include medical details 😅. The shit I had to research for that fic lmao (and I'm saying that as someone who was always the arts student lmao). So yeah, I'm glad in the end it really was a believable world. And you are the absolute loveliest and I am sending you all the thank you's back for this incredibly kind message. You've caught me at the end of a very long week and I am exhausted so this was just the most heart-warming thing to read. You are getting all the virtual hugs! ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️
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pondslime · 4 months
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GOD. I need to rewatch westworld,,,,,,,,,,,,,I miss my freaks
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opens-up-4-nobody · 1 year
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#me @ my youngest sister at 6.30 this morning: yooooooo can u draw me a fishy so i can get it tattooed on me?#i drew her some flowers so i want a paralell tattoo with her initials bc she has my initials on her#but i literally have not spoken to her since like may bc i do not talk to my sisters unless we r in the same room. no hate we just dont hav#a lot in common. it makes me a lil sad tho bc im curious abt them. my youngest sister is at least nice to me 😭#ive been thinking abt asking her for ages and last night i was asked abt my sisters so i was like. the time is now#while im still a bit elevated#which has been to my advantage bc i was able to stay v chatty and energetic while talking to ppl. and i think i made some friends#we bonded over fic reading. so theyre a bit. ya kno. girls gays and theys of science#we make the world go round. but its so interesting to hear them talk abt coming to school here bc they both liked where they were and r#leaving their support systems. and im like bruh if i didn't leave the southwest i was gonna die. im so happy to b here#support system? whats that. i talk to my parents once a month and that's it lol. but im gonna try to establish one here#and try to actually make actual friends. this school is way better abt making grad students interact#my last school was not at all like that. but anyway i had fun#and i mean im only at the start of the semester. and im in a good mood. and i kno things will get stressful#but im just really happy i got accepted here#and the longer im here the more clearly i can see how much i was suffering#the funny thing is tho that i wrote this last night and only hours later i was squirming in frustration bc the fact that im back in therapy#means i feel a greater obligation to not b actively self destructive. evil coping mechanisms my beloved#this is y my mum wanted me back in therapy bc im a goodie 2 shoes and when my counselor is like: did u do X the next time i see her. ill b#honest and itll b annoying >:-[ ugh#its just hard for me to b around ppl a lot bc i get stuck in mental loops bc ocd. which is exhausting. and i want it to stop#and i want to do bad things to make it stop but i wont bc im trying to b better#its just funny to me that ill go from everythings awful to everythings great i shoukd talk to my sisters and make friends and do this and#this and this. to oh god i cant do this anymore in such short time frames with certainty that how im feeling is how ive always felt#ive also noticed that my peaks of high energy do come before stressful events. which does make me worry for future stressful events. like#defending. i mean ive never gone fully off the tracks but its a lil alarming when it feels like the train is going at a million miles an hr#unrelated#meanwhile my other sister is apparently in Colorado but when i saw the pics is was like: YOU BITCH#R U CLOSE TO ME RN??? but no. Colorado is far away
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gojonanami · 6 months
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❝ 𝐘𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐙𝐀 𝐅𝐈𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 ❞
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❝ WHAT HAPPENS WHEN TWO YAKUZA HEIRS ARE FIGHTING OVER WHO GETS TO MARRY YOU ?? ❞
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✧ pairing: yakuza!satoru gojo x f!reader x yakuza!suguru geto
✧ summary: you had no patience for the yakuza lifestyle your grandfather had -- you wanted to live a normal life, but when it leaks that your grandfather is in talks to have you engaged to one of two yakuza heirs -- you realize you're in deeper than you thought -- especially when they both fall in love with you.
✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, fluff, inspired / dialogue / scene concepts taken from the manga “yakuza fiance,” (which the fic is named after), reader's age is ambiguous, but all are 20s+, violence (as expected from mafia / yakuza stories), blood, stsg have tattoos, implied satosugu (just a passing mention of dating briefly), stsg have sadomasochistic tendencies, a little ooc, switch! gojo (very sub gojo), switch! geto, oral (f + m), deepthroating, handjob (m), fingering (f! receiving), double penetration, sex (p in v), creampie, poly relationship implied ending,
✧ wc: 18,476
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“I don’t want to marry either of you,” 
And your statement is met with confused stares — and normally stares like this wouldn’t be terrifying to the average person, but these were not average men you were dealing with. 
Satoru Gojo and Suguru Geto were anything but average — in many ways. 
Both were incredibly handsome — Satoru was blessed with a piercing blue gaze of the heavens and snow white locks that could stun any person into silence, and Suguru was no slouch either — with long inky black locks tied into a neat bun and his sharp features and his almost all too alluring smile — the two of them looked like they belonged to a modeling agency. Both were also brilliant, attending one of the best high schools in Tokyo, before going to the best university, leading in their respective specialities (Satoru studying physics, while Suguru chose literature). 
And, the two were both the heirs to two of the most dangerous Yakuza families in all of Japan. 
But right now, they are your biggest problems, personified. 
Their families were both vying for your hand in marriage — thanks to your meddling grandfather who shipped you off to Tokyo to get a would-be Yakuza husband — your yakuza family hoping to broker peace after decades upon decades of fighting with one of the other two biggest yakuza families around — the Gojo and Geto families respectively. 
“Excuse me?” Suguru speaks first, a single eyebrow raised, arms crossed over his crisp white button up. 
“I’m not here for this yakuza bullshit. I’m trying to live my own life — and I’m not in the mood to get swept along in my grandfather’s wishes for me to get married,” your hand is in your bag, fingers curled around your collapsible metal pole, “and I don’t care to know either of you, I don’t really care to stick around you — especially because all its earned me is the disdain of all the other students who have crushes on you — so how about we simply tolerate each other for this year?” 
Satoru whistles, “how disappointing,” his eyes raking over you from head to toe, “you’re worse than your reputation — we heard you were a stuck-up, spoiled rich girl that would do anything to get her way, but turns out you’re just normal,” he sticks out his tongue and makes a gagging noise, “how boring,” 
“Truly tiresome,” Suguru hums, his bangs falling in his dark gaze, “I was looking forward to a woman who could match up to us — maybe fuck me up, punish me, and strip away my dignity — type of girl who’d ruin my life, do you understand?” 
You stare at him, lips parted, brow furrowed, “What?” 
“In other words, we were hoping you were much more interesting than you were — as you are now, you’re just useless,” Satoru sighs dramatically, his pink lips curled in a smile, “bor-inggggg,” 
“You might as well go back to Osaka, or wherever it was you came from,” Suguru shrugs, hands in his pockets, as he pulls a cigarette and a lighter, “you could stay, but as it stands, you would be better off back home — maybe it would even start a war — that could be fun, Satoru,” he remarks, his grin growing more sinister by the minute, as he places the cigarette between his lips, and lighting it. 
“Let’s actually not be so hasty, Suguru. She could have some use,” he holds out his fingers to frame you between them, “could be worth something if we have her work at one of our families clubs — selling her body. She could make some use for us,” he says cruelly, “Otherwise, go back home, and let them know we’re the ones not interested in you,” he says, brushing past you along with Suguru. 
And you couldn’t decide which one of their smiles were the most bone chilling — and why you couldn’t quite find your voice in that moment. And you didn’t — not until you finally reached home, your phone ringing. 
“How’s it going, dear granddaughter?” you could hear the grin of the old coot even over the phone — and how could you tell him you wanted to go home now? You had hoped to go there to give two rejections — not earn two of your own. You hoped to stick out the year before leaving this place behind, if only to appease your grandfather. 
“I’m fine, but I think…I think I’m homesick,” you sit on the edge of your bed, hunched over, hand holding your head up, propped against your knee. 
“Why’s that? Did something happen?” 
“Nothing, I just—” 
“You’re not coming back home,” and your hopes fall, “one year, you have to stay one year no matter what. Don’t care if you have to fight with every bone in your body and fiber of your being — last a year,” 
“But why—” 
“Make those boys fall for you, and then break their hearts, heh — your grandfather is a heartbreaker and I know you can do the same,” and you know his lips are curled in a smile not too dissimilar to the two men you met today, “don’t forget where you come from — and what you’re worth,” and he cuts the line, as you stare at your phone, before tossing it away and lying back. 
Well, you know what you had to do. 
~~~
“Morning,” you know where’d they be — the only free period they had together that they spent in the dining hall with their entourage — including some girls who had been harassing you about how you knew the pair — ones you had suspected in fucking with your locker, smearing mud all over your shoes. A small retaliation for capturing their precious crushes’ attention.
The two heirs only stare for a moment — it had been two weeks since they had seen you, “thought I had gone home?” 
“Surprised you didn’t,” Suguru remarks, utterly disinterested from the look in his eyes, despite the smile plastered on his lips, “guess I lost the bet, Satoru,” 
You raise an eyebrow at Satoru, “you thought I’d stay?” 
“Thought you'd stay to take me up on my offer to sell your body,” he holds out his hand as Suguru slaps a stack of bills in his palm, “did you?” 
“I did actually,” your lips curl, as their gazes slide to one another, before you drop a bag on their table, “one kidney, 5,000,000 yen,” and you take delight in the smiles that slide off their expressions, as they stare at you, Satoru looking over the lip of the bag before you knocked it over and let the stacks of money spill over the table, “it took two weeks since it took a while to arrange and recover, but it was well worth it,” 
The pair only can stare — expression unreadable and words seemingly stolen from their mouths, as you only smiled down at them, your gaze digging into their faces like daggers.
Suguru’s eyebrows knit together, “How did you—“ 
“Friend of a friend,” you shrug, “I’ll have to be on a low sodium diet and probably do blood work a little more frequently but you were right about one thing — I was being weak,” you lift up your shirt to show the bandage on your side, their eyes wide, as they can only stare, “I won’t be making that mistake again,” 
And you place your foot up on their table, leaning in, as the mask slips from your face, and your anger surges forth, “listen here, you masochistic fuckers, I’m not scared of either one of you. I don’t care if I have to crawl home choking on my own blood, I’ll be sure you’re choking on each other’s as I drag you both to hell. I’m staying here, whether either of you like it or not,” 
“You can’t talk to them like that—“ one of the girls pipes up, her lips twisted in a frown. 
“I can talk to them however I want - do you know who I am? I come from a family just like there’s but we actually know how to cover up our crimes,” you chuckle, head tilting, “do you know how easy it’d be to get rid of you two?” Your gaze slides to the other girl, “it’d be all too simple — and trust me, I’d get my hands dirty if it’s the two of you,” your lips curl into a wide grin as you add, “after all, you guys did me the favor of dirtying my shoes already,” 
And the two blanch white, all indignance replaced with genuine fear — and you had never known someone could look at you as someone to be feared. 
And you didn’t know you would like it so much. 
You staple the smile on your face again, as the two heirs still sit speechless in their seats, eyes glued to you,  “Well that’s all,” you slide back, “I have to head to class—” 
But then your wrists are caught — pulling you back, as you find yourself pinned on either side by the two heirs, your body tense, before your gaze slides between them, “What?” 
“Marry me,” they both say simultaneously — and you gape at them. 
You are pushing them back, palms pressed against their chests, but find yourself met with two immovable objects, instead trying to squirm out of their grips. “What?” And their grips loosen enough for you to take a step back, but their hands remain around your wrists. 
“I have to have you,” Suguru presses a chaste kiss to the back of your hand, dark gaze lidded as he looks up at you, and a shiver climbs up your spine, “I’ve never been so terrified or turned on in my life — it must be love,” 
Satoru is the same, mesmerized with eager words, “I want you to do what you promised, Princess — ruin my life,” Satoru’s lips curled in a wide grin, “want you to completely fuck me up, dominate my entire life — and there’s only one way to do that, marry me,” 
Suguru only scowls at Satoru, “You know Satoru, it’s very rude to propose after your best friend does,” Suguru’s gaze slides to him, “she’s mine,” and his other hand finds your shoulder, pulling you against his chest, even as you struggle against their grips, “her family reached out to mine first,” 
“Fuckers, I swear to god, let me go—“ but they act as if they can’t hear you, a current of possessiveness sweeping their thoughts away. 
“So what? Her family decided to ask for my hand — looks like yours wasn’t good enough,” Satoru only grins, pulling you against him instead, his breath warming your flushed skin, as you grimace, “and I’d make her happier than you ever would.” 
“Want to take this outside, Satoru?” Suguru’s glare sent chills down your spine, but Satoru’s lips split into a smile so wide, you were afraid his head would crack in two. 
“Why? Feeling lonely? Go by yourself,”
And finally you stomp on Satoru’s foot before elbowing Suguru in the stomach, drawing groans from both boys, as you stumble away from them, whirling to face them, “Don’t treat me like your goddamn property or that I’m a prize to be won,” your words slip like venom from your lips, “don’t ever fucking touch me without asking,” 
“Of course, we’re sorry,” Suguru only grins after, holding his stomach, but he still looks all too delighted, “you should reprimand us like the scum we are, isn’t that right Satoru?” 
Satoru nods, pouting, “Yeah we deserve more of a punishment,” and your skin crawls at their eagerness. 
“I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with you two, but I don’t want anything to do with it,” you walk away, hiding your dumbstruck expression, but the two only followed you. 
“You can’t just walk away from us, you have to decide who you want,” Suguru calls after you, their long strides meant they caught up all too fast, and you’re armed with your collapsible pole now, pointing it at both of them. 
“Two minutes ago, both of you thought I was normal and boring,” your eyes narrow — was this another plot to just sell you to some club? 
“And I’m sorry about that sweetheart,” Satoru’s arm is around your waist again, while Suguru’s fingers intertwined with yours, “we were clearly wrong — and you have to take responsibility,” 
You stare at them, “for what?” 
And he’s leaning to whisper in your ear, “I’m so hard for you right now,” And you’re whirling on them with the pole, but they both expertly dodge your assault, before you’re hurrying away. But they let you go, watching after you with a grin. 
“This is going to be fun,” Suguru remarks, looking at his best friend, “I can’t guarantee I won’t kill you for her hand,” 
Satoru only smirks in reply, “You stole the words out of my mouth, Suguru.” 
~~~
It had been a week — a week of you trying skillfully to evade the two yakuza heirs. 
And you had failed. No matter how fast you left your classes, where you hid, where you sat — the two always found you. And now you have resorted to sitting outside to eat your lunch, being careful to avoid any stray glance of your presence. You sat, back against the building, as you held your head, bento box in your lap — how long until they would get the message? How long until they figured out you wanted nothing to do with them? 
Your grandpa had told you to make them fall for you, but you didn’t think you had too much more to do with how the two were following you around, dogging your every step. 
How would you last another year? 
You opened your bento — at least for once, you could enjoy your lunch without one of them— 
“There you are,” and your lunch nearly goes tumbling out of your lap, but you grasp it, keeping your food from spilling out of your bento, and you turn to meet the gaze of Suguru, leaning against the windowsill, “you’re a fast one, sweetheart,” his head tilted and lips curled in his signature smile. 
“How the fuck did you find me so fast?” you stare at him, brow furrowed, “it’s barely been five minutes, and this campus is huge,” 
“It’s the power of love, of course,” you cringe, and he laughs, bringing his knuckles to his lips, “oh rather, it’s the power of the tracking device I slipped in your bag,” 
And you blink, “You what?” 
He shrugs, “Well how else would I have found you so quickly? I’ll slip it in your shoe next time,” and he sighs, as you dig through your bag, before turning it upside down and letting your things spill out on the grass, “besides, there’s a good reason I’m tracking you,” and you find the tracker before stomping on it, digging your heel into it, crushing it into the dirt, “there’s been a kidnapping of another Yakuza heiress,” 
And your eyes flit to him, and he’s still smiling at you, “Who?” you continue to collect your things, shaking out textbooks and examining your things for any other hidden trackers. 
“You’ll learn tonight — come to the compound tonight — you’ve been formally invited by both my father and Satoru’s father,” and he’s hopping out of the window, fingers brushing yours as he hands you your pencil case, and he’s all too close now, his warm breath warming your lips. 
“And if I refuse?” and his lips curl in a smirk. 
“You’d be offending not only my family, but Satoru’s as well—” and he’s rising to his feet, offering you a hand, “and it might end in an all out war, but that would be just fine for us — would it for you?” 
You glare at him, taking his hand reluctantly, as he helps you to your feet, and you brush the dirt from your skirt and legs, “Fine, what time?” 
“After school, Satoru will be waiting by the gates for you,” he smiles, as he settles next to you, pulling out his own lunch, and you tilt your head, “oh are you curious about me? I have my own business to attend to,” 
“Is that what the other bastard is up to?” and he chuckles at that, taking a bite of his food. 
“Something like that.” 
~~~~
“Took you long enough, pretty,” the Gojo heir’s eyes drag over you like spotlights as he leans against the gate outside, the other students staring as you two speak, whispering as they walk by, slowing down to either catch a longer glance at Satoru or hear a bit of your conversation, “with being so quick to leave for lunch, I thought you’d be just as quick leaving the building,” and he’s offering you a drink from the vending machine that you reluctantly take. 
“Well, I wasn’t exactly looking forward to being a spectacle,” you grumble, as you power walk away from the burgeoning traffic jam that Satoru was causing, and he follows behind, “why do they all stare anyway? They know you're a yakuza, don’t they?” 
“Part of the draw,” he shrugs, the hiss of his own soda filling the air as he pops it open, “everyone wants what they can’t have, but don’t worry, I only have eyes for you, sweetheart,” you grimace as he sips at his soda, raising an eyebrow, “so what can’t you have?” 
You both finally reach the heart of the city, bustling with people left and right — the one thing you couldn’t get used to from the quieter life you led, “Some peace and quiet, apparently,” you adjust your bag on your shoulder in a tighter grip, if only you could lose him in this crowd and be done with all this shit, but it wasn’t that simple, and then it occurs to you, “did you put a tracker on me as well?” 
“Nah, I just used Suguru’s,” he smiles, as he downs the rest of his drink with his head thrown back, before crushing the can in his hand and tossing it away in the recycling bin nearby, “plus, I didn’t have time, been busy with other things, unfortunately,” 
“What things have you—” 
And you’re suddenly tugged into an alleyway, an arm around your neck and a hand clamped over your mouth, “Don’t struggle, it will only make it more difficult for you,” the man whispers in your ear, as another two men draw closer to your sides, “we’ll kill you if you do,” 
You can’t scream, but you don’t need to — because the man who grabbed you screams first. 
“Who the fuck are—” and he screams, his hands slipping from your side, the thump of his body against the pavement making you flinch, as you slowly turn to find Gojo, as he only glares at the other men, before his gaze slides to you, softening with a smile. 
“Sweetheart, it’s okay, come here,” and you swallow, before taking shaky steps to his side, and he’s pulling you behind him, “wait here,” 
It happens far too quickly.
Or maybe it’s just a blur now. Because now he’s beaten the three men into submission, their scarlet blood splattering against his uniform, the wet squelch of their flesh as he punches and kicks them, his shoe digging into their sides. He winds his fist back again. 
“That’s enough,” you say hoarsely, swallowing thickly, “they’re barely alive,” 
“More than they deserve,” he mutters, before sighing and grabbing one by his shirt, fabric straining against the dead weight of the man, and pulls him close, his hand connecting with his face as he slaps him awake, “You hear me? Listen,” he shakes him, until the man’s eyes blink open, bleary, “You see me? Don’t forget my face. You touch her again — and it’s the last thing you’ll see before the afterlife, got that?” 
“Yes,” the man slurs. 
“That’s my girl,” he jerks his head at you, “she’s mine and if you or any of your stupid friends or family see her, don’t talk or touch her, much less even look at her,” and his lips curl again, “or I promise my family and the Geto family will slaughter you — until there’s nothing left.” and he drops the man onto the ground, “let’s go,” he mutters, shaking the blood off his knuckles, before using the inside of his uniform jacket to wipe the rest off. 
“Your uniform, it's—” and he glances at the blood seeping into the fabric of his jacket and crisp shirt, and you’re digging through your bag, “I have my hand towel and some—” and he’s shaking his head. 
“I have a sweatshirt I can wear in my bag,” and he’s tugging off his uniform jacket and unbuttoning his shirt, and you can’t look away fast enough — not before seeing the tattoo littering his back. 
A large lion against his back, seemingly roaring, against a backdrop of bamboo, stared back at you, as your breath catches in your throat — he wasn’t just a spoiled heir, he was a real yakuza. And what he did to those men — his eyes met yours again, as he tugged the sweatshirt on, lips still in that ridiculous smile — it was likely the least of what he could really do to them. 
“Oh, sorry, guess I never told ya,” he pulls the orange sweatshirt down, pulling a pair of sunglasses on, and your horrified expression in the circular black rims stare back at you, “sorry for scaring you, sweetheart,” 
“You’re really—” you cut off, heart caught in your throat. Yeah, you had spent too much of your life surrounded by men covered in tattoos, but these two — their auras — were on another level that was simply — terrifying. 
“A yakuza?” he finishes, peering at you over the rim of his sunglasses, “Surprised it took you this long to figure out — thought you had that pieced together a while ago — what? I assume your family shielded you from that kind of violence — probably had guards on you 24/7 so no one would mess with you. Well you aren’t in Osaka anymore,” his fingers intertwined with yours, his larger hand engulfing yours as he tugs you along away from the alley, the faint groans of the men disappearing into the ambient noise of the city, “Stay close, princess.” 
And you flushed, biting your lip. There was a lot you didn’t know, but you knew you better learn — you spare one glance back at the alley — and quick. 
~~~
You both arrive back to the compound, as you’re funneled into a room, you get a glimpse of Suguru in an adjacent hallway, his clothes as bloodied as Satoru’s was, if not more. His dark eyes catch yours and his lips curl, as he holds his hand up as a greeting, mouthing, “Yo,” 
You’re shepherded away to sit, and soon enough, Satoru and Suguru join you, as you fidget in the middle of the room, the three of you sit on cushions, while another cushion directly in front of you. Your fingers can't help but toy with the ribbon on the front of your uniform — what if this was just a ruse to sell you off? Maybe they even found out about you selling your kidney? Anxiety swirled in your mind, dragging down your body to even the tips of your toes, your body buzzing and stinging with thoughts. 
“This really is just a talk to discuss the missing Yakuza heiress,” Suguru cuts through your thoughts, as you stare at him, slack jawed, and he only shrugs, leaning back against his hands flat on the floor, “you’re not hard to read, sweetheart,” 
“Besides, if we wanted to kill you, why not let you die in that alleyway?” Satoru chimes in, ever so helpful, as you glare at him, before his gaze slides to Suguru, “did you take care of that like I asked, Suguru?” and he nods, and before you can ask a question, the door slides open. 
Instead of the heads of the household, a yakuza comes in, sunglasses stare back at you, his dark brown hair slicked back, shaved on the sides of his head, as he stared down at the three of you, “The heads won’t be able to make it to this meeting — something has come up,” 
“Yaga, good to see you,” Suguru chirps, while Satoru only sighs, hands behind his head. 
“Glad to see you haven’t gotten yourself killed since you’ve been away, old man—“ and Satoru earns a fist to his head, “ow!” 
“Keep it up and you’ll get something worse than a whack to the head,” Yaga grumbles, taking his seat, “you must be the girl,” he eyes you up and down, “I’ll get straight to the point — the Akazawa heiress is missing. She’s assumed to be kidnapped,” he hands you a photo of her — shoulder length black hair, her eyes look past the camera, her head tilted downwards, but her hazel eyes pierce through the picture. 
“How long has she been gone?” Suguru asks, “any chance that she just ran off?” 
“There’s a chance she’s been sold off for a couple hundred thou,” Satoru remarks, crossing his arms, “people would pay a premium for a yakuza heiress,” and his eyes slide to you, and you glare back. 
“We don’t know — maybe she ran off, maybe she’s been sold, maybe there’ll be a ransom coming in at one point or another, or maybe she’s dead—” and you bite your lip, “but we can’t take the risk, especially since we have a similar heiress under our care now,” Yaga says, crossing his arms with a hefty sigh, “that being said, you’ll be staying at the compound until further notice— your things have already been brought here,“ you gape at him, mouth nearly hanging open, “and you’ll have Satoru or Suguru with you at all times — their schedules have been rearranged to have class with you,” 
“But—“ and Yaga shoots a look at you that silences your protests. 
“These orders came from the three heads, including your grandfather, would you like to defy them?” And your mouth clamps shut, your head falling. 
“No, sir,” Yaga rises, leaving, but not before ordering the two heirs to show you where you’ll be staying, “and any real threats to you appear, and your classes will be made online and you will remain under guard in the compound,” Yaga adds before disappearing behind another door. 
“It won’t be that bad, Princess,” Suguru grins, as they walk you to your room, “now we can really get to know each other before we’re married,” 
“Don’t you mean before we’re married?” Satoru says, as Suguru only smiles back at him. 
“I would rather not marry you, Satoru, dating you for a week was enough—“ and Satoru opens his mouth to reply. 
“I’m not marrying either of you,” you rub your head, feeling the beginnings of a headache creeping on your temples — you barely could make it through the day with enduring the amount of insanity these two already inflicted, you were sure you’d murder one or both of them if you had to spend 24/7 with them, “we should be keeping a low profile from now on, not going out—” 
“Except for the dates we have planned,” Satoru says, offering you the key to your room, and you unlock the door, stepping inside. 
“Especially not for those.” And you slam the door shut and lock it. 
Your eyes take in the boxes that surround you, full of the things from your apartment, and sigh. 
Fuck, this really was your life now, wasn’t it? 
~~~
“Why are you staring at me?” you can’t ignore Suguru’s stare in the subway, even when you refuse to meet it. The light from the windows flooded into the subway, flickering as the carts sped by, as the two of you hung onto the grab handles. Your usual peaceful ride to university was now impeded by Suguru who stood by your side, his eyes seemingly glued to you. 
“I see that your left side is slower to respond than your right,” and you shift under his gaze, “that’s why your bag is always on your left side, so you can spot a threat easier and have a stronger grip, smart,” 
You raise an eyebrow, “How did you figure that out?” 
He shrugs, “From observation — I also move a little slower on my left — I even blink slower,” and you face him, staring into his eyes, trying to notice any difference between the two eyes. The only thing you could see is how pretty they really were — dark and lidded, not as bright or striking as Satoru’s, but just as mysterious. 
“I can’t tell,” you tilt your head, and he only smiles. 
“There isn’t a difference, but I got you to stare into my eyes, didn’t I?” and you glower at him, your remark cut off by the influx of people flooding into the cart. Fuck, you never had seen it this full before. You forced yourself not to cringe under the tight quarters — you could handle this, it wasn’t a big deal, even as the people sandwiched themselves all around you, anxiety biting at your nerves. And then you’re knocked around by the crowd as the cart jerks, but then, Suguru is pulling you lightly so your back is pressed against a wall and he’s caging you in, his body protecting you. 
Your breath catches — he’s so close, “You don’t have to—” and your gazes meet again, your breath catching, your bag caught between your bodies. He’s nearly pressed against you, the heat from his form seeps into your own. And he smells good, despite the sticky heat of the summer lingering — something musky but sharp at the same time — what was that scent? 
“You seemed uncomfortable,” he says, his hand holding onto the grab handle above, “this seemed like the easiest solution, especially so I can protect you — it would be much easier to shield you with my body this way,” 
“Shut up,” you grumble, as he chuckles, before you’re sighing, “I’m not used to taking the subway — I used to have a car that took me back and forth,” you chew your lip, “I didn’t want you to think I couldn’t take care of myself,” 
“Makes sense to have you driven — as a yakuza heiress, they wanted precautions,” Suguru nods, his eyes sliding around the cart, “you never know,” 
“Is that why your eyes keep scanning the subway cart?” you raise an eyebrow. 
And his lips curl, “I did say I’d protect you with my life, didn’t I?” 
“Did you mean that?”
A chuckle escaped his lips, a noise that makes your breath catch, as the cart jerks again, pressing you both even closer, “I never say anything that I don’t mean, princess.” 
~~~
“Is following me around really necessary even after classes?” you hadn’t bothered to pull your usual disappearing act — it was counterproductive in multiple ways (the first being that either of them would find you and the second being you had to be glued to one of their sides at all times), “it’s not like someone is going jump from the shadows and kidnap me on campus.” 
“You don’t know that for sure, do you, princess?” Satoru drawls lazily, as he twirls his dinner knife around his fingers with a skill that said he’d done it a million times before — probably instead of doing the thing he was supposed to be doing, “a man comes up behind you while you’re studying or shopping, presses a weapon or gun to your side, just out of view, and he’s got the perfect hostage,” 
You raise an eyebrow, “You sound like you’ve done it before,” and the knife stops between his middle finger and pointer, the tip pointed at you, as he looks at you over the rim of his sunglasses. 
“Don’t get jealous, sweetheart, you’re the only girl I’d want to kidnap,” he leans forward and swipes a mochi from your plate — even though he had already ate his own — and you scoff, as you turn your attention back to your neglected dessert, choosing to use your brain cells to focus on your food instead of this psycho. 
“How lucky,” you mutter, as you stab your remaining mochi instead of your escort, “do the two of you have to take shifts like this? I’m surprised the two of you aren’t glued to my sides 24/7 together,” 
“We thought it was only fair the two of us split our time — and as much as I’d like to spend each and every hour with you, we both unfortunately have other responsibilities to tend to,” and he takes a bite of the mochi, “plus, this way, we get to spend time with you alone without the other interfering, and trust me, if I saw you with Suguru,” his lips curl, “I’d interfere,” 
“Well you don’t have to be worried about that, because I don’t plan on being with either one of you,” you reply, “I’m here to finish school and go home as soon as I can,” 
“You won’t be saying that once I make you fall for me,” 
You get to your feet, as you pull out your wallet — but Satoru waves you off, already pulling out his card for the waiter, “You’d have a better chance making me fall for you if you tripped me,” you roll your eyes, as you round the booth, and quick as a light, you trip right into his arms, your body bumping against his chest as his arms steady you. A hand tilts your face up to meet cerulean eyes filled with mirth, “did you trip—” 
And then you spot the chair leg you had tripped over oh-so-gratefully, “I don’t need to resort to those measures to make you fall for me, princess,” his finger traces your jaw with a featherlight touch, “I have plenty of other ways to do that,” 
You get to your feet properly and shove him away, as he chuckled, as you rolled your eyes, “Maybe in your twisted dreams, but—” And Satoru is tugging you away from the booth — a tight arm around you waist, as you stammer, “what the fuck are you—” 
“Guy’s been following you — just spotted him from a distance,” he murmurs, and your shoulders tense, resisting the urge to look back, “just keep walking with me, don’t worry,” his arm gently squeezed you, “won’t let anything happen to you, princess,” 
“Don’t call me that,” you murmur, as he leads you back inside the closest building, “where are we—” and he’s pulling out his phone, texting several people. 
“Getting us a ride in case I need to get you to safety, and letting Suguru know of the situation,” he offers you a small grin, “I could send you back, but that would be that and you will be on lockdown. Things might be getting a little more interesting from here — so it’s your choice, will you stay or go?” 
You considered your choices — you could run away from this, go back to the compound, but going back was a guarantee that you would be stuck 24/7 in the compound and stuck there for the remainder of your time here. And these two would take full advantage of that. Plus, your mind wandered to the girl who had been taken — you wanted to know more about what happened to her and why you were being targeted next. 
“Let’s go,” and his lips curl. The two of you round several street corners, Satoru’s arm remains tight around your waist, as he leads to a more and more secluded corner of the city, “is this the right move?” your hand wanders into your pocket, fingers around your collapsible pole. 
He sighs dramatically, “Do you have such little faith in me, sweetheart?” 
“Considering the two of you are insane, yes, I do,” and he clicks his tongue at you, “where—” 
And someone punches you, fist connecting with your left cheek as you stumble sideways into the wall of a nearby building. You hear the cock of a gun, your eyes catch sight of the weapon pointed at Satoru. You caught a glimpse as your eyes flicker open, several men stand behind him, all bearing weapons of some sort. 
Your ears ring, as you clutch at your head, as you struggle to get your balance, your vision in your left eye blurry from the impact,  “Come with me, and your girlfriend won’t have to watch you die,” you feel something warm run down your nose, and you touch it — scarlet stains your fingers. 
Fuck. 
Your eyes flicker back to where Satoru stands, eyes flickering to you, a shiver running down your spine at his hard gaze — not a hint of euphoria left — his lips a thin line, and his fists clenched, “I’ll fucking kill you,” his words leave in a whispered hiss, and quick as lightning, the gun is knocked from his fingers, and Satoru’s got him pinned down, fist winding back to punch his head in. The other men don’t hesitate to join the fray, just as Satoru doesn’t hesitate to take them down, blood spilling from their bodies as they fall one by one. 
You said you would be stronger — that you wouldn’t let this happen again. You weren’t some person who needed to be sheltered away. Your fingers clutched at the pole in your pocket, pulling it out, as you slowly uncollapsed it — you were a yakuza heir, just as much as these two were. 
One of them got up to shaky feet, lifting up his knife to stab Satoru from behind, “DIE!” and you slam into his side, hitting over the head with the pole — a grisly crack as the pole nearly snaps against his skull. 
“Fuck off and die!” the words leave your lips as you taste your own blood dripping from your nose. And you can feel Satoru turn to see you, eyes wide as he stares —  your words burn as much as your head hurts, as you wipe the blood from your nose. 
And the men are all down now, as Satoru walks over to you, and his fingers reach gently for your face, as he examines the blood dripping, “it’s just a nosebleed,” you say, and his gaze softens ever so slightly, before darkening, as a groan comes from the man that punched you. 
“Are you sure you’re okay?” your heart flutters at his gentle touch, the calluses of his fingers against your cheek, as he pulls tissues from his pocket to wipe the blood from your nose. 
And his eyes linger on your face for a moment, before he turns to the culprit, fingers clenched tightly around the napkin soaked in your blood. 
He drags the man up by the collar, shaking him, a gurgled groan leaving his bloody lips, “You might want to go, sweetheart — I have to make sure I let this one die for ever laying a hand on my woman—“ and you clasp your hand on his shoulder, shaking your head. 
“He’s half dead already — you don’t need to finish the job,” and he pouts, shaking the man again for good measure. 
“You said he should die—“ 
You shrug, “People like this aren’t worth the trouble of killing. And you don’t need more problems on your hands — so if you’re doing this for me, don’t bother. Let’s just go,” 
And you see his lips slowly curl into a grin, as he pulls you into a hug, arms around you waist, as he runs his fingers through your hair gingerly, “I didn’t realize you cared, sweetheart,” and you frown, “don’t want me getting in more trouble, huh? If it’s for you, I’ll oblige, but you owe me one,” and his fingers slide under your chin. 
“Oi, is the party over without me?” A familiar voice calls, Suguru walks over, several other Yakuza in tow, his sleeves rolled up, as he takes a once over of the situation, seemingly uninterested in the scum, his eyes falling on you and Satoru, lingering on the blood that still was trickling from your nose. His eyes narrowed, “which one—” 
“It’s already taken care of, Suguru,” Satoru rubs the back of his head, “but for your information,” he kicks the one who had punched you in his side, forcing him to roll over, a slight groan escaping his lips, “that’s the one who hurt her,” 
Suguru nodded, stepping over the bodies as if it was nothing more than a spill that had been yet to be cleaned up, as his hand brushes over your chin softly, drawing close, a sharp gasp leaving your lips when his fingers decide to travel to your nose, “It’s not broken, just bleeding, but I should still get her checked out at the compound,” 
“You?” Satoru furrows his brow, “you’re going to leave me—” 
“To clean up your own mess? Yes, I am,” Suguru smiles, “because it’s my turn to keep watch,” as he shows his watch, already well past midnight, “and I should be getting her back to the compound,” the two glare at each other, a tension settling over the scene that you were far too done with. 
You sigh, stepping past both of them, walking over the bodies splayed out on the floor, “Let me know when you both decide,” you yawn, hands in your pockets now, “I need sleep,” and Suguru follows behind, and you don’t see him turn to smirk at Satoru. 
~~~~
You swore someone was watching you. 
A presence loomed over you, hovering slightly, as you shifted in your sleep, a sigh parting your lips as you turned, still caught between in realms of deep sleep as you drifted in and out, eyes fluttering open a moment, and caught sight of a shadow. 
No, it was nothing. It was nothing. And then you’d wake to sunlight filtering through your windows, eyes fluttering open, but you would still wake with the lingering touch of someone else against your face. 
But each morning you’d check the locks, and it would be locked, with no signs of tampering — and you’d be left wondering if it was a dream or not. 
It had been like this for the last week — you’d sense a presence, for a split second of what you thought was consciousness, and then it would be morning again. 
And finally, you decided to stay awake, a knife you had pilfered away from the kitchen under your pillow. You let your eyes drift shut, drifting in and out of a half sleep, until you hear it. 
The slow slide of the door opening, and the soft close of the door behind. The person takes nearly soundless steps towards you, before leaning above you and you feel the faint brush of hair against your skin, before leaning back with a quiet sigh. 
Suguru?
And his fingers slide through your hair softly. He watches over you, quietly, until you turn to face him, eyes open. 
“You know it’s really creepy to break into a woman’s room in the middle of the night,” and Suguru blinks, before his lips curl in a small smirk, “and it’s even weirder when you just sit there to watch her sleep,” 
“Just trying to make sure you’re safe, sweetheart,” 
“In a locked room?” And he shrugs. 
“I broke in easily,” and you scoff, as he rakes his own fingers through his hair, “who else would keep an eye on you?” 
You sit up, crossing your arms, “Surprised you and Satoru aren’t in here,” 
“We take turns,” and you stare at him, as he leans back against the wall, “all we do is keep watch princess — would you have let us in otherwise?” 
You open and shut your mouth, before you find words again amidst the haze of frustration, “I’m not so fucking helpless that you both need to sit here and watch me sleep,”
“We have been doing this since the threats began nearly and you only noticed recently,” he points out, his eyes catching the faint light of the moon, as cautious and patient as Suguru was — his expression as indiscernible as a new moon was, “and it’s only because Satoru had gotten sloppy,” he shrugs. 
You rub at your temples, “you’re not the only one who is a yakuza—“ 
Suguru tilts his head, “Princess, you don’t know what it means to be one — not even your fingers have never been bloodied, and it should stay that way—“ 
Your fingers close around the handle of the knife as you lunge at him — you snapped. You were tired — tired of the men in your life running your life — your grandfather, these yakuza heads, and these two idiots — all of them treating you as if you were spineless. 
And you weren’t. 
His hand darts out — and it happens quickly. The knife clatters against the hardwood, and he’s pinned you underneath him. 
You glare, embarrassment licks at your cheeks like flames — you had placed your fingers on the stovetop and what were you expecting other than to get burned? You can’t meet his gaze, and you’re expecting another lecture or sanctimonious attitude, but instead, his fingers skim your cheek, “You should pick your battles wisely, sweetheart — because not all of them will let you off the hook,” and he leans close, breath warming your lips, as your eyes can’t help but squeeze shut. 
Only to wince after a sharp flick to your forehead. 
And his weight leaves you at once, your head turning to find him examining the knife you had stolen, “You should also choose a better weapon than a kitchen knife — especially one as dull as this one,” 
You scowl at him, “Well, how else will I defend myself?” 
And he smiles, shrugging, “Isn’t it simple? Use the weapons already at your disposal,” 
Your brow knots together, “What weapons?” And his hand is sliding the door open, as he casts one more glance over his shoulder, lips curled in that insufferable smile. 
“The ones sworn to you.” 
~~~~ 
“You’re staying home tomorrow from class,” the thermometer is plucked from between your lips, the white haired yakuza scrutinizing your room, cerulean eyes catching the pile of tissues you had failed to stuff properly in your trash bin, “how long have you had this, Princess?” 
You lay bedridden and pouting as you draw the covers over your face — you had not been feeling well this whole weekend, but you developed a fever last night. You thought it would be gone by the morning, “Just since this morning,” and he’s tugging the covers away, his brow wrinkled, and then you see it, bandages on his forehead, “when did you get hit on the head?” 
And he blink, fingers running through his hair, “This? It’s nothing,” and you raise an eyebrow, “if you must know, it’s just my punishment for taking you into the thick of things the other day,” 
Your brow wrinkles, “Who—“ 
He waves you off, “It’s not important — the important thing is that you get better — can’t have my future wife succumbing to the flu, now can I?” And you scoff. 
“I’m not your future wife,” you mumble, and you hear a small chuckle from him. And then your muscles begin to grow heavy, eyelids fluttering shut under the weight of exhaustion, and your skin feeling far too cold for your burning insides, “Gojo, I’m not—“ 
And you slip into darkness. 
You can feel the world around you move, the sounds of wind brushing against your skin, and the flicker of lights in your eyes. Your lips part, a desert inside your mouth with no oasis in sight, “where—“
A voice quietly shushes you, fingers raking through your hair gently, lulling you back to sleep. Was it your grandfather? No, he never coddled you like this. Not even he had his yakuza to look after. You were expected to care for yourself —- you couldn’t show weakness. 
Not as an heir — even if you were just a kid. 
And when you do wake for a moment, it’s with some prodding, a voice whispering for you to open your mouth at the press of a medicine cap to your lips, and your eyes flutter open to catch a glimpse of blue eyes — so you do, swallowing it with water. 
You fall into the arms of sleep again, only waking to your head slightly aching, and a distinct void in your stomach. You reach around blindly for your phone, and find that it’s still Sunday, nearly the evening. Your eyes adjust as your gaze spots the last glimmers of the sunset in the window. 
How long have you slept? Like four hours? You sighed, slumping back into bed, as you stretched. Your fingers pressed to your forehead, still a slight fever, but it was definitely lower. Maybe you could sleep for a bit longer, and you turn on your side only to find a familiar, not-so familiar sight. Your lips can’t help but curl a little. Again there is someone in your room, but instead as your eyes flutter open you see that Satoru has dozed off.
You hold back a chuckle, as you slowly get up, drawing a little closer. His head was against the wall, slightly tilted, soft breaths leaving his lips, arms crossed. He had a prescription medicine next to him along with a water bottle. Your fingers reach for the medicine, and you glance it over — seeing that it was prescribed earlier today for you. 
Your brows knit together, when did you—and then it comes back to you slowly — the lights, the sound of wind and cars — he drove you to a hospital. And his shoulder starts to slip 
And then you reach for him, trying to make sure he didn’t hurt himself. 
That’s when he grabs you — his eyes fly open, as he grabs you by the wrist, pulling you close, his hard topaz gaze cuts through you, until it slowly fills with recognition. His fingers digging into your wrist loosen ever so slightly, as he blinks. 
“Sorry about that, sweetheart,” but his fingers don’t leave your wrist, “are you feeling better?” 
“I am,” you admit, as his other hand reaches up to brush against your forehead and then neck, sending hest crawling up your skin for a different reason. 
“Looks like the medicine worked,” he sighs, leaning back, “guess I can scratch beating up that doctor off my list,” and you furrow your brow, “it was a joke, Princess,” 
“Why did you take me?” You asked and he tilted his head, “I mean you could have had me looked at here, so why did you—“ 
“As much as my father pays for these services, they don’t work weekends, usually — we do have an on-call physician, but,” he shrugs, as his thumb brushed back and forth against your wrist, right where your pulse was, “I didn’t want to wait,” 
And your eyes slide to the bandages around his head, “but you couldn’t get that checked out?” 
“Worried about me? I’m touched, Princess,” and your fingers reach for the bandages and brush against his locks, “hey, you—“ 
“It’s coming loose,” you lean over and slide your hands until you find where it’s coming undone and tie it tighter, fingers brushing against his soft locks — noting the undercut you hadn’t noticed before, “there,” 
“Thank you,” he murmurs, as your eyes meet his and your breath catches, your face an inch or two from his. And he looks different in the dark of the room, illuminated by the last vestiges of sun that were quickly fading into the night — softer. 
“Why did you take care of me?” And he blinks a moment, taken aback and he tilts his head, “someone else could have—“ 
“I wanted to,” he cuts you off gently, “why would I let someone else do it when I could? It was the least I could do,” and it was your turn to tilt your head, as he adds in a whisper, “I let you get hurt. I should have sent you home,” 
“If you had tried, I would have stayed anyway,” and he chuckles. 
“I know,” he murmurs, “and I know what it’s like to tough through things as if you’re invincible — as if nothing can touch you — and it’s only a matter of time until it does,” and your fingers brush against the bandages on his head, as you dare closer, less than a breath away. 
“Maybe I should make you take your own advice,” you whisper, and his lips quirk upwards in a smirk. 
“I’d love to see you try, Princess,” he adds with a grin, “you know I’d love to submit to you anyti—“ 
And you swallow the rest of his sentence with your lips, a chaste brush that leaves your entire body burning for more — a spark to kindling that you told yourself you wouldn’t start. But, your lips part his to see his soft gaze meeting your own, before finding your lips again, how could you not? 
“I’m going to get you sick,” you manage between kisses, lips meeting and parting, as he chuckles against you, a vibration sending a shiver that definitely wasn’t from your fever.
“You’re worth it, Princess,” but he kisses you one last time, noses brushing, before your stomach rumbles loudly in the relative silence of both of your soft pants. You flush, and he can’t hold back his laugh, as you smack his shoulder.  
“Shut up, I haven’t eaten since breakfast, thanks to someone,” and he’s still laughing as you try to smack him again, but he catches you by the wrist. 
“Don’t forget, I really like it when you punish me,” his lips press to your wrist, your breath catching for a moment before you hit him again on the chest regardless. And he laughs, leaning on his hand, “oh what will I do with you, sweetheart?” 
You scowl at him, rolling your eyes, “You can start by getting me dinner,” you grumble, and he repents, getting to his feet, “Satoru?” And he pauses, eyes flickering back, “thank you,” you manage, biting your lip all the whole, unable to meet his eyes or see the smile on his lips. 
“Anytime, Princess.” 
~~~~
You hadn’t seen Suguru or Satoru all week. 
Once a sought after rarity l, but now a foreboding concern. Satoru had been away on business — you didn’t care to know what, but you knew he’d come back only more clingy than ever. You chewed on your lip — especially after the kiss. 
Fuck. You kissed Satoru, you buried your face in your hands, what the fuck were you doing? Could you use the excuse that your fever had rendered you momentarily insane? No, Satoru would only crack a joke saying that he’s crazy for you too. 
What was your plan? You were only trying to bide your time for a year — not become further entangled 
You lay back on your bed, as you scroll through your phone — but Suguru was a different story. You heard from Satoru that he had returned. Yet now there was some random yakuza checking in each hour  — and even worse, keeping you confined to the compound. 
And a small part of you did worry for them as you tossed your phone aside — those fools may have death wishes but that didn’t mean you wished the same. 
You leave your room, sighing as you explore the compound. You had done your fair share of exploring, but you had never wandered into Suguru or Satoru’s quarters. You had been told by each of them where their rooms were, only for you to glare at them for providing you the implication. But now…maybe it was useful. 
You walked through the halls — seemed like most people were away at the moment. When Satoru had captured those people who had attacked you both, there was information learned about who was targeting you and of where that girl who was taken could possibly be. But it’s not like you were able to find that information out — unless you went looking yourself. 
Satoru and Suguru’s rooms were close to each other’s — but Satoru’s room was locked, as you tugged at the door to no avail. You glared at the handle as if it was the white haired idiot itself, before turning to Suguru’s door. 
You pressed your ear to the door, it was silent, not a single noise inside. You pull at the door and it opens. You step inside — the room is neat, a desk in the corner, along with a bed on the opposite side, but not much else. There were a few other things — a dresser with a few containers tucked beside it and a small bookcase against the wall near the desk lined with books on each shelf. 
It wasn’t what you expected — though you didn’t know what to expect. You stepped into the room, glancing around, as you approached the desk first. You rifle through the papers, finding nothing relevant — only papers from class and a few scattered notes that had nothing but addresses and initials scribbled. 
And then the door opens, you freeze, before you slowly turn to see Suguru, his clothes tattered, blood dripping from his arms and soaked through his white button up. His gaze is dark and heavy, until he finds your eyes, his brow wrinkled. 
“What are you doing?” no ‘sweetheart’ or ‘Princess’ — just a question. 
“I was looking—“ but you bite your lips, as you watch his shoulders slump, “what happened—“ 
And he draws closer, as you slowly take steps back, until he’s looming over you, his arm pressed above you, “Princess, you shouldn’t get involved in these things, unless you want to end up like this,” and the smell of death rolls off of him, the heaviness of his gaze could drag you down to the depths of hell — but you didn’t care. 
“Sit down,” and he blinks, before you’re pressing him onto the bed, “I’m going to get a first aid kit and some bandages,” 
“Sweetheart—“ but you’re already out of the room, returning with a first aid kit and bandages, “where did you—“ 
“Well after that first time Satoru and I got jumped by those people, I figured it would be good to stock up on things,” you pull out scissors and tape, and you dampen a washcloth you had stored in the kit with a water bottle you had grabbed. “Take off your shirt,” he hesitates, “getting shy?” 
Suguru’s lips curl, before he sighs, unbuttoning his shirt, “You know I rather you hurt me than take care of me,” and you scoff, as you busy yourself with preparing the materials to tend to him. 
“Well it looks like someone else already did that for you,” and your eyes meet with his bare chest, the red and black ink of his tattoos encroached onto his shoulders, but more than that — bruises bloomed on different parts of his body, scars from old wounds of various ages littered his skin, and dried and fresh scarlet clung to his skin from fresh cuts. 
You take the washcloth, slowly starting to run it over his body, the white cloth marred with his blood, he doesn’t flinch even as it cleans his cuts or wounds.  
“Why are you doing this?” And your eyes meet his, his amethyst eyes cut through you. 
“Because you’re hurt,” 
“Just because I’m hurt doesn’t mean you have to help,” you sigh, as you urge him to turn so you can clean his back next, the sight of his tattoo on his back unsurprising now as you continue to clean it. 
“Doesn’t mean you don’t have to either,” he gives a soft chuckle, “what’s your goal here sweetheart?” You urge him to turn again, as you begin to clean the blood from his arms. 
“Do I need to have a goal?” And he turns to face you, leaning even closer, as his black locks fall in his eyes. 
“Everyone has one — didn’t you have one for coming in here?” And your hesitation is all the answers he needs, “curious about what’s going on with those people after you, huh?” 
There wasn’t any use lying now, “Wouldn’t you be?” 
“I would be, but I wouldn’t get caught, now would I?” and you scoff, as his lips curl, “we have been tracking the group that we suspect has the heiress, and we have been interrogating the people that you and Satoru secured,” ‘secured’ — more like nearly murdered by the way Satoru acted. 
“And where were you?” 
He sighed, “Dealing with some loose ends — and some other business that my father had me deal with,” and he adds, “I had to make sure a message got out — so no one would ever attack you like that again,”
And why does your heart squeeze at the thought, “Why are you so willing to tell me?” And your hands begin to clean and wipe his palms. And you set the washcloth down, beginning to bandage some of the larger cuts and wounds, and his fingers intertwined with yours, as you glance up. 
“Because you deserve the truth,” he shrugs, “and even if I lie, you’ll figure it out, so why not tell you to begin with?” And he leans even closer, fingers skimming your cheek, “plus I don’t keep secrets from my future wife,” 
“I’m not marrying you,” but you don’t pull away, as he’s even closer now. 
“Well, you said never before — and I’ve worn you down to a ‘not’ — it’s only a matter of time,” and his words make you want you to pull away, to scoff at his words and leave, but you don’t. 
Why can’t you? 
“And I thought Satoru was the one full of himself—“ and his lips find yours, his kiss was more insistent, his fingers find your jaw, featherlight before it finds purchase on the back of your neck. You could taste the faint taste of blood, lingering on his lips, 
“And you also thought Satoru was a good kisser,” he smirks, as his lips ghost down your jaw, nose brushing against your cheek, as you pause — how did he— “well now you know what a good kisser is actually like,” 
Your eyebrows knit together, “Geto—” 
“Suguru,” he corrects you, he tilts his head, his thumb cupping your chin, and your lips find the other’s, his forehead pressed to yours. Then his phone rings, and the moment’s broken. He pulls away just as fast, as he turns to answer his phone, “Hello?” he listens, a man’s voice on the other end, “I understand, okay.” and the call ends, as he offers a smile to you, “I have to deal with some business, but I’ll be back later. And then it looks like I’ll be your escort while Satoru is away.” 
“What business—” but he’s brushing past you, going to his wardrobe to grab a fresh shirt, buttoning it swiftly, before pulling on another jacket, as he turns to glance at you over his shoulder. 
“You know better than to ask me that,”
“But you said you would be honest,” and he shrugs his shoulders, a smirk on his lips, as he heads out of the room. 
“I didn’t say when.” 
~~~~
“We have to tell her,” Satoru stood, hands in his pockets, leaning against the wall of the compound. Suguru clicks his lighter again, flicking it on and off — he had quit a few months ago when you had told him that you hated the smell. And he didn’t miss it, but he still carried the lighter — old habits die hard, “the pictures we got — they are getting better at tracking her without us noticing. And these other fires we’re being sent out to deal with — it’s leaving us with less time to protect her,”
“Do you have to?” Suguru asked, flicking his lighter closer, the silver outside glinting in the low light of the moon, “isn’t it safer for her to stay in the dark for now?” 
“Staying in the dark doesn’t mean she won’t put herself in danger one way or another without us knowing,” Satoru shrugs, “she said even if I had sent her home that day that those men were after her, she would have came after me,” 
Suguru gives a terse chuckle, “I don’t doubt that she would,” he sighs, gaze towards the inky darkness of the sky, dotted with faint stars that he couldn’t see but knew were there — just as these threats were, “if she found out that her grandfather was threatened too? There’s no way she would wait,” 
“So what do we do?” Satoru scratched the back of his head, “we could send her back home — she might be safer there than here,” 
“Her grandfather told us—“ 
“I know, but what choice do we have, Suguru?” he sighs, and Suguru can’t help but quirk his lips. 
“You know if we do this, we may have to fight her grandfather to stay engaged with her,” And Satoru smiles, shrugging. 
“I know, but we can handle it, can’t we?” Satoru leans back, “we’ll just have to fight him on it. Why? Are you afraid?”  
Suguru gives a short chuckle, “Since when have you known me to be afraid of anything?” And he turns his gaze towards the door, “so when should we tell her?” 
But they don’t notice that you’re pressed against the door, your fists clenched. And they were right about one thing — you wouldn’t wait. 
~~~~
CRACK! 
Fuck, your eyes burned as you tried to open them, the sharp pain in the back of your head radiating all over, as your eyelids refused to open. What happened? You tried to hold your head, only to have your wrists strain against something rough — rope? The fibers dig into your wrists as you try to stand, only to find them bound to something else. 
“Finally awake?” it was a woman’s voice — and your eyes still can’t quite open — fuck, this wasn’t part of your plan, “take your time, they said they wanted you in pristine condition so I can’t have you falling apart on me later on,” she scoffs, her footsteps receding away, and you could hear the quiet murmurs of other voices — men, by the baritone. 
Your eyes burned as you adjusted to opening them, still fighting the urge to flutter them shut under the pain. The dim light swung overhead, a warehouse from the bare floors and even barer walls and ceilings overhead, barely illuminated in the flickering exposed lightbulbs hanging over the middle of the room. 
“Where am I?” You choked out, voice wavering in a way that made you want to grit your teeth and chide yourself for the fear that seeped into your words. 
The quiet click of heels came closer, “Don’t recognize me? Well I suppose you never did see my face in person,” and you knit your brows together as she stepped closer, leaning in far too near for your comfort, “I should thank you for your efforts in trying to find out what happened to me. It made it far easier to kidnap you,” 
Her hazel eyes were even more startling in person. 
“The Akawaza heiress,” you stare at her — her hair had grown a little past her shoulders now, ends slightly curling at them, “I thought—“ 
“I was missing? I was,” her lips curled, running her sharp lacquered nails through her black locks, “but it was my choice,” the screech of chair legs scraping against the floor makes you flinch ever so slightly, as she sits in front of you, her legs crossed, “I’m being rude — how is your grandfather?” 
“Fuck off,” you spit, and she clicks her tongue. 
“And here I thought you had manners, but I suppose the city’s changed you, little princess?” she hums, leaning back, wood of the chair creaking as she did, “or maybe your boyfriends did,” you say nothing, scoffing, as she sighs, “or knowing your grandfather, you probably didn’t have any to begin with,” 
Rage fills your veins, lava bursting from them as the venom leaves your lips, “Don’t talk about my grandfather like that—” 
“Why shouldn’t I? You never cared for the yakuza before, right? Is your grandfather not included in that equation? Or maybe it was because he kept what he did behind closed doors, and never bothered to tell you the truth,” and you’re not fast enough to stop your brow from furrowing, and she latches onto it, “Oh he didn’t tell you, did he?” 
“You really love the sound of your own voice, don’t you?” you murmur, and she laughs at your remark, her nails clicking against the forearm of the chair — lacquer on wood that began to grate on your nerves, “can you get to the point of all this shit? Why the fuck am I here?” 
“Because your grandfather is picking and choosing who he favors — and so I decided to take his heart, and I’ll only give her back if he gives me what I want — ” and then you see the way her lips curl and her jaw is cut, and it occurs to you. 
Your grandfather had said he was a heartbreaker. 
“You’re his granddaughter,” and she smirks, her nails falling still. 
“Do you see the family resemblance?” she leans against her hand, elbow against the arm of her chair, “it would be nice to meet you — if I didn’t have to possibly kill you,” 
“So you want to be the heiress? I never wanted to be one in the first place—” 
“Do you think that matters?” she scoffs, “what matters is the choice your grandfather makes —  and he’s chosen you — with no regard for the other children he has had,” her gaze falls downward, “do you know what it is like to watch your mother vye for the approval of someone who never truly cared for her in the first place?” 
Your gaze falls downward, “I don’t know,” you admit, “but is all this worth this? What do you think he will even do for me?” 
“He’ll meet my demands, and each hour he doesn’t, he’ll get another finger of yours,” she pulls a knife out, the blade glinting in the dim light, as she rises to her feet, your body straining back as she draws close to you, running the flat of the blade down your cheek, “should I start with your left hand or right?” she pulls the blade back, and you smile, “what—” 
And you lean your head back and smash your head against her own. The crack of your skulls colliding rung in your ears, along with the knife clattering to the ground, as you felt warm droplets ran down your face, and she stumbles back, clutching at her forehead, scarlet staining her face and fingers, “It’s funny you think that I came to you without a plan — how do you think I found you?” 
“It wasn’t on her own,” and a hand on her shoulder, before she’s pinned to the floor. Satoru’s eyes slide to you, a smile on his lips, as she’s struggling, trying to look for her men, “looking for your goons? Suguru has taken care of them by now, unless he needs my help,” 
“Akari isn’t the only one who likes to hear herself talk,” Suguru runs his fingers through his hair, “Satoru, you haven’t even untied her,” his footsteps echoing as he approaches you, bending down to pick up Akari’s knife. 
“A little busy at the moment, Suguru,” Gojo has Akari pinned with one hand, “unless you’d like her to get away,” and Suguru shrugs, as he slips the knife under your restraints and cuts them off, “are you doing alright, sweetheart?” 
“I’m fine, just my head’s aching,” and Suguru pulls a cloth from his pocket, wiping the blood from your face, your eyes closing and nose wrinkling as he does, “did you call my grandfather?” 
“Yeah, I don’t have a death wish,” Satoru replies as he hauls Akari up and hands her off to his associate to take her. 
You get to shaky feet, “Hold on,” you walk over, grabbing Akari by the front of her blouse, silk wrinkling under your grasp, “fuck with me or my family again, and I won’t be so lenient,” you shove her off, and then you add, “but I’ll talk to my grandfather about some sort of possible arrangement for your mother,” 
And then you wave the yakuza off and they take her away — assuredly to Kyoto to be dealt with by her grandfather. 
“Are you really going to talk to your grandfather about her?” Suguru asks, raising an eyebrow. 
“It’s the least he could do since he caused me to be targeted,” you grumble, rubbing your wrists, as Satoru takes his suit coat off and places it around your shoulders, before a smirk pulls at your lips. 
Suguru tilts his head, smiling, “Well, how would he feel if he knew you got kidnapped on purpose?” And you shrug. 
“He doesn’t need to know that.” 
~~~
“I’m surprised you guys agreed to my plan,” you hiss as Satoru takes a damp cloth to clean the dried blood from your face, while Suguru is knelt, bandaging your ankles — their rough and bruised hands somehow still gentle, “I thought you would never let me wander into danger,” 
“Well, we knew we had to do something when we realized you were listening to us, didn’t we, Princess?” Satoru snorted, and you could hear the smile gracing his features — even with your eyes shut — “and this was the best way to ensure you weren’t hurt,” 
“Relatively,” Suguru adds, as he finishes bandaging one ankle, “did she do anything else to you?” 
And Satoru’s hand pauses as they both wait for your answer, and you shake your head, “No,” and Satoru pulls the washcloth away, your eyes fluttering open to meet two skeptical gazes, “really, I’m fine,” your lips curl after the two of them look away, Satoru turning to grab a bag of ice for your forehead, while Suguru busied himself with bandaging your other ankle, “is this threat the reason my grandfather sent me to Tokyo?” 
The timing had lined up — Akari had started the threats not a few months before — after she had reached legal age, the perfect age to contend for the position of successor to her grandfather. And by sending you here, your grandfather thought he was putting you out of immediate danger — but he didn’t know Akari would make her way to Tokyo. 
“More or less,” Satoru sighed, as you flinched when he pressed the ice pack to your head, the condensation from the bag already clinging and dripping down your face, “the geezer wanted to find the source of the threats against you—and by sending you here, to your potential fiancés—“ 
“I would be safe protected twofold by two of the biggest families—“ and you blink, pulling the ice pack away from your face, “the engagements — that’s why they were leaked — it was to protect me,” you mumble, “so that means—“ 
“You can go home if you want, Princess,” Suguru says, looking up at you, expression as inscrutable as it always was, “the engagements were only pretense,” 
“You both knew?” And Satoru sighs, scratching the back of his head, and why does it feel as if his nails are carving out a piece of your heart. 
“The old coot swore us to secrecy, we didn’t have—“ 
“But, everything, the two of you…the engagement—it’s over,” you say slowly, gaze falling downward. You should be happy, relieved, thrilled — you could go home, what you wanted to do from the start. You could get your own apartment or transfer to a different university—and leave this behind, a bad dream washed away by the events of a new day. So why? 
Why did it hurt? 
“Don’t tell me you’ll actually miss us, sweetheart?” Satoru teased, a force more than anything — bittersweet worded coated in a sugary sarcasm, “because I very well may propose here and now,” 
You almost scoff, but Suguru beats you to it. 
“A proposal now? Seems like finishing early isn’t what you just do in bed, Satoru,” Suguru scoffs, as Satoru shoots a glare over his sunglasses, “she’s only eager to get home now isn’t she? "If she isn’t so eager,” he adds, “then she would stop the one she wants from leaving her room, wouldn’t she?” 
And Suguru is slowly getting to his feet, while Satoru also turns to leave — and you don’t think—but you were sure that you truly hadn’t thought a single sane thought since you had arrived in Tokyo—
You grab at the fabric of both their shirts, fingers clutching at it, as your lips curled when they glanced back at you. 
“Who said either of you could leave?”
~~~
“You’re going to have to use your words,” you murmured, fingers ghosting Satoru’s jaw, a delightful shiver parting his lips as you smiled at him, sat spread at the edge of your bed, “what do you want?” You stepped closer, between his legs, daring even closer. 
“Sweetheart, you know what I—“ and a low groan leaves his throat as your fingers slide to the nape of his neck to tug at his snowy locks, “please—“ 
“I know you love this,” you murmur, leaning to press a kiss to his throat, smiling against his skin, “you said you wanted me to hurt you, so it looks like you’re getting your wish,” your eyes slide to the other, sat in a chair, “I know you like to watch, Suguru, so you must be enjoying yourself,” and you’re further unbuttoning Satoru’s shirt all the same — crisp white button up definitely creased and wrinkled as it fell open, tugged out from his slacks. 
Suguru’s fingers flexed against the grain of the wood of the armrests, his muscles taut, his lips a tight line that only matched the fabric of his slacks straining against his erection. The corner of his mouth twitches, and you smirk. 
“I didn’t hear an answer, Suguru,” and you’re placing another kiss on Satoru’s neck, a whine leaving his throat, while your eyes find Suguru’s amethyst gaze darkened to nearly black, his knuckles white against the wood, as you lean down to lick a stripe up Satoru’s neck, who bites his bottom lip. 
“I’d enjoy it even more if I could touch you, or me,” Suguru adds through gritted teeth, “Princess—“ 
And you click your tongue, “You had such patience when you were watching me sleep — so where’s that patience now?” Your fingers graze Satoru’s erection through his slacks, and his head is falling back, as Suguru shifts in his seat, not so subtly adjusting himself. 
You undo Satoru’s belt, unbuckling it with ease, as his cock slaps against his stomach, and you didn’t know it was possible for a dick to be pretty, but Satoru’s was — a deep flush settled over it, pearly beads of precum dripping from the ruby tip. And a distinct heat begins to throb between your thighs. 
“You can touch yourself,” you tell Suguru, his legs twitching to get up, “but you can’t cum until I tell you can,” you run a finger up Satoru’s cock, teasing the weeping tip, a groan leaving the snowy haired man’s lips, “strip, Suguru,” 
And he does, you hear the click of his belt, the sound of fabric rustling, as your fingers tease the slit of Satoru’s cock, gathering precum on your fingers, drawing a grunt from his lips. You can hear the distinct sound of Suguru spitting in his palm, his hand beginning to work at his own cock. 
“Both s’good for me,” you murmur, as you stroke Satoru’s cock in earnest, the quiet moans from both their mouths sending a ribbon of need to your already dripping cunt, “can’t wait to fuck you both, make you my toys,” and you’re pressing a kiss to Satoru’s tip, his pretty, pink lips parting, as his head rolls back again, “but you’d both like that wouldn’t you? Maybe I shouldn’t let either of you cum, make you beg me all night,” as your tongue traces his lovely vein up the side of his cock, “what do you think, Toru?” And your mouth finally closes around his dick, sucking hard that draws a hiss from his lips, fingers fisted in the sheets. 
And Suguru isn’t doing much better, the sounds of his hand squelching and the moans leaving his lips growing louder and louder. 
“Please, Princess, I’m close, I can’t—“ and you click your tongue, a pout on your lips, as you pull away your touch, “baby, I—“ 
“Can’t let either of you cum so fast,” your eyes slide to Suguru, his cheeks flushed a lovely pink that reaches even his ears, as his hand slows, his cock twitching in his fingers, “gotta make you earn it. It’s only right after all the shit you put me through right?” 
It’s a cycle, a cycle of you bringing them both to the edge of orgasm, only to tell them to stop. Their sweat slicked brows wrinkled, as you worked them up once again and again and again — you had lost track of how many times. 
“Please, please, sweetheart,” and you knew you could get Satoru to beg, but you didn’t think it would be this easy, and you let his dick brush against your throat, as you let him fuck your throat, hips jerking, “fuuuuck, I need to—” 
And you’re pulling your lips from his cock with a pop, glancing at Suguru whose black locks are beginning to come loose from their neat bun, more of a mess now than he had been fighting yakuza earlier, and all because of you. 
“Suguru? Wanna cum?” you ask, smirking as his gaze raises to meet yours, a desperate look that tells you everything you need to know, “be a good boy and tell me,” 
He swallows, adam’s apple bobbing, as pre drips down his knuckles, “fuck, Princess,” he’s shaking his head, “ I want to cum, please — I need—” 
And your lips curl, “cum for me,” you murmur before you’re wrapping your lips around Satoru again, his tip brushing against your throat, sucking hard, his fingers finding purchase in your hair. And he’s cumming hard, his hot release slides down your throat, nails digging into your scalp, nearly never ending — even as you pull away, his cum paints your face and lips, and drips onto your clothes. His cerulean eyes glazed as he looked down at you between his legs, a string of spit and cum connecting you to his cock. 
And Suguru was no better. He had cum hard all over his hand and the floor, his cock still somehow half hard, his body slumped back in the chair, as his chest heaved. His hair tie had long fallen away, his long black locks brushing against his shoulders. 
You lick your lips clean of Satoru’s cum, wiping the rest away with the back of your hand, “Made such a mess,” you tsk, as you get to your feet, slipping off your shorts and shirt, before leaning down to kiss Satoru, and he’s still sensitive by the way he jolts against your touch, before melting into it, his tongue parted your lips with ease. And fuck, you hoped he couldn’t see how wet you were — nearly dripping down your thighs at this point. 
And you’re pulling away, your thumb dragging down his lips, as his teeth try to catch the finger between them, but you’re too quick. You turn, a smile on your lips, you make your way over to Suguru. 
You’re wiping up the mess on the floor with your shirt before kneeling, “made such a mess, Sugu,” and he’s staring at you through half lidded eyes, his fingers brushing your cheek, “did I say you could touch me?” 
“You never said I couldn’t,” he murmurs, and god, his voice is far gone, raw and nearly guttural, as his fingers found purchase in your hair, “and I think I earned it after your little performance—“ and he hisses when you lean in, tip of your tongue teasing his slit and licking the dripping cum off his half hard cock, “fuck—“ 
“Not yet,” you smiled, as you started to lick his cock clean of his cum, “but maybe if you’re good,” he grunts as you sink is cock into your mouth, tongue swirling around his length, licking and sucking — and fuck, he was already twitching in your mouth. 
And then he’s easing you off his dick with a tug of your hair, and you’re glancing up at him, a question on the tip of your tongue, but he’s swallowing it with a kiss, as his hands slip down your body to haul you nearly into his lap. Calloused palms find their way to your hips, squeezing lightly, as he pulls away, cupping your chin with his thumb. 
“Suguru—” and you yelp as he picks you up with ease, placing you in Satoru’s lap whose hands wind their way around your waist, his fingers already beginning to tease your hardened buds through your bra, a gasp leaving your lips, as Suguru placed his on your neck with a smirk as he murmurs:
 “Let me show you how good we can be, sweetheart.” 
~~~~
“Tell us what you want, princess,” Satoru murmured in your ear, his warm breath doing nothing to help the needy heat between your thighs, the one that Suguru was knelt between, his large palms spreading you before him, “is she as wet as I think, Suguru?” 
And Suguru catches your gaze, a wicked smile on his lips as he replies, “Wetter, she’s a mess, aren’t you?” you bite your lip to stop a whimper from leaving your lips as his fingers graze the growing wet patch on your panties. And your squirming only makes Satoru grunt, his erection pressed against you, the friction doing little to help either of you. 
“Fuckers,” and Satoru clicks his tongue, a smile on his lips as he turns your head. 
“Think I have a better use for that mouth of yours, sweetheart,” and his lips find yours, right as Suguru toys with the elastic of your panties, snapping it against your skin, Satoru swallows the small noise that escapes your lips, his tongue slipping into your mouth as it does. 
And god, you already can’t even think straight. 
Satoru’s fingers are pushing up your bra, teasing your nipples, as Suguru pressing a kiss to your dripping cunt through your soaked underwear. 
“So pretty,” Suguru murmurs, and Satoru’s lips part from yours, gaze darkening as he drags his thumb down your kiss ruined lips, and he tugs your drenched panties down, “and your cunt is even prettier, isn’t it princess?” 
And you were — your gorgeous pussy was glossy with your pre, dripping all over his fingers when he parts your messy folds, “Bet she’s even tighter, isn’t she?” Satoru murmurs, as his dick twitches against your ass, “
You whine as his words warm your aching pussy, your eyes flickering downwards, as Suguru’s lips graze your inner thigh, and you already know Satoru’s pouting. 
“You’re taking your goddamn time, Suguru, when do I get my chance?” He grumbles, nose brushing against your neck, as you can’t help but chuckle. 
“You got your turn, and now it’s time for you to watch,” and your giggle turns to a soft gasp when his lips press a kiss to your clit, “and sweetheart, can’t wait to see how you’ll punish me for this later — because I’m not stopping until you beg me to,”
Your lips part with a reply, but he pulls a moan from your lips instead as his tongue drags up the length of your weeping entrance. God, fuck, how did you taste this good? His tongue flicked against your puffy clit, drawing lazy circles, your slick already drenching his chin and lips. 
“So fucking good, baby, s’good f’me,” and your fingers are threading their way into his dark locks, pulling him even closer, his lips closing around your clit to suck, “could live in this pretty cunt,” he grunts, the tip of his tongue teasing your entrance. 
Your head falls against Satoru’s shoulders, a groan fell from his lips as his cock dragged against your ass, your slick drenching his thighs and cock alike, “can’t wait to sink my cock into you, fuck,” Satoru murmurs, the wet squelch of your cunt rang in his ears, and he could imagine how wet and warm you’d be once he sunk into you, inch by inch. 
And he couldn’t wait — he needed to do something. 
Satoru’s fingers found their way down your body, tweaking your nipple before one large palm dragged slowly down your front, until he found your clit right above Suguru’s face. 
“Toru,” you gasp, as his fingers pinch your clit and Suguru glares, pulling his lips away for a moment, only to sink a finger back in insteas, drawing a moan from your lips, “Sugu—fuck—“ 
And it’s too much, one more touch and you’re cumming, body falling back into Satoru, as Suguru fucks you through your orgasm. Your release runs down their fingers, as Satoru lifts his hand a moment to lick his fingers clean. 
God, you’re too pretty for your own good, Satoru’s eyes drag over you — your kiss ruined lips, skin shiny from your sweat, and the way your eyes were lost in an endless pool of lust. 
“Suguru was right, you’re the sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted,” Satoru grin, gently turning your head, and you’re panting, nose wrinkling ever so slightly at his words, and he tuts, “don’t believe me? Well I can fix that,” and his lips find yours again, letting you taste yourself, swallowing your moans, as Suguru continued to finger fuck you. 
Suguru’s finger stretches you open, fluttering, knuckle deep, as your precum drips down his fingers. 
“Remember who’s fucking this cunt, sweetheart,” and Suguru is, another finger parting your needy folds, and between Satoru rubbing your clit and Suguru’s fingers curling to find that one spot, drags against your insides, “fuck, how are we going to fit, Satoru? She’s still so tight,” Suguru grunts. 
You pull your lips from Satoru’s, a whine leaving your lips, “More, please, I need—“ and a third finger joins the other two — but it’s not Suguru’s. 
“Fuck, you’re so fucking soft,” Satoru groans, pressing soft kisses to your skin, only serving to make you keen at their touch, and your walls flutter around their fingers. 
“Fuck, we’re trying to fuck her open and she just keeps getting tighter,” Suguru grunts, while Satoru’s lips find your earlobe, sucking, just as he adds another finger, a moan escaping your lips again. 
Suguru’s fingers fuck at a steady pace, fucking deeper and deeper, while Satoru’s are faster, pistoning in and out while dragging against your walls — and it’s not long until they are working you up to a second orgasm, it’s too fucking good — and they both find that spot in you that has you seeing stars. 
“I’m g’nna—” and Satoru finds your lips in a sloppy kiss, saliva slipping from the corner of your mouth. And you cum, even harder, your swollen folds clamping down on their fingers as they continue to fuck you unendingly through your orgasm. Your lips pull away, only to moan their names, again and again, until they finally slow down. 
“Good girl,” Suguru murmurs, pressing sweet kisses to your thighs, while you come down from your high, walls flutter around nothing at the praise, while Satoru nips at your neck right above your racing pulse. And your eyes find Suguru lazily palming his weeping erection, as you lift your bare foot to rub against it, making him hiss, while you rub against Satoru teasingly. 
“Don’t forget who’s in control,” you kiss Satoru again, before biting his bottom lip, and he’s melting into your touch, “and, you were good,” your foot rubs against Suguru’s cock again, drawing another pretty groan from his lips, “but now it’s time to be obedient.” 
And they are — as you have Satoru sit back against the pillow lined headboard, because if it was anything you knew now — Satoru loved to be controlled, while Suguru liked the illusion of control, even if he didn’t have even a bit of it. So you have Suguru kneeling behind you, as you climb into Satoru’s lap, a small groan leaving his lips as your cunt grazes his hard cock. 
“Such a good boy, aren’t you, Toru?” your fingers run through his hair — and god, his undercut was so fucking hot, as your fingers found his cock, letting the tip tease your soaked folds, as you line yourself up, “tell me what you want,” 
“Fuck, princess, y’know what I want,” and a whine leaves his throat when you let his tip sink into you, only to pull out. 
“Come on, nothing else to say? You always love running that mouth, don’t you? You wanted this, wanted me to ruin you, didn’t you? Well here we are,” you hum, as you press a teasing kiss to the corner of his mouth, “beg me,” 
And his dick twitches, painfully hard, and the words spill from his lips, “Please, please, sweetheart, use me, use my cock as a toy, want you to fuck me so bad, make me yours—” and you’re sinking onto his cock, his length parting your folds, as moans fall from both of your lips. And he bottoms out, your hips meeting his as you do, and you can feel every vein, every ridge, every inch notched inside your walls. 
“Toru, fuck, s’good, s’big,” it feels too fucking good, and he’s so long — god, he was brushing against places you never even dreamed of reaching. And your pussy clenched at the thought of how deep he would go when he would start thrusting. 
“Sure you have space for me, Princess?” Suguru leans back over to press kisses all over your face, before finding your lips in a heated kiss, “might be too tight of a fit,” his nose brushing against your cheek. 
“I’ll make you fit,” you murmur against his lips, your hands against Satoru’s chest, as you shift to cup his chin, “get behind me, Sugu,” 
Suguru smirks, slipping behind you, pressing himself against your back, dragging his cock teasingly against you, “So needy — you’re worse than Satoru,” and Satoru makes a noise of protest, but your walls flutter, making his back arch, “want me inside you, sweetheart?” And his tip teases at your entrance, brushing against Satoru’s cock, causing all three of you to moan, “tell me how much you want us to fuck you, how much you want both of us inside you,” 
“Fucker, I swear to god,” you turn your head, your glare undercut by the desperation on your face, “just fuck me— 
And Suguru sinks into you, your head falling back against him, as both of their cocks stretch your cunt out. You were so fucking full. And the way your walls clenched around them was nearly enough to make them cum. Their groans come in unison. 
“Fuck, Princess, you don’t have to break our dicks off — we’ll fuck you again,” Suguru grunts, his rough palms sliding to your hips to squeeze them. 
“S’good, sweetheart, so fucking right for us,” and you can’t think straight with the two of them inside of you, and you’re moaning. 
“Please, move—“ and they oblige, beginning to fuck you. You moved against Satoru, riding him as best you can, while Suguru fucked you from behind, his balls slapping against your ass. 
Suguru drives into you at a steady pace, causing you to rock against Satoru, your hips pressed against his, as they both drive deeper and deeper into your wet cunt. 
“S’good, so pretty,” Suguru presses sweet kisses to your neck, while Satoru’s eyes flutter open to meet yours, “I’m close, Satoru—“ 
“Me too,” Satoru manages, and his hips begin to meet your thrusts, “you gonna cum for us princess?” And he finds your gaze, the fucked out expression enough to nearly make him cum right there. 
A whine leaves your lips, as they continue to fuck you, and you know you’re so close. And then they find that spot in you again, and you’re falling apart, lips parted in a moan, both their names on your lips. You clamp down on them, toes curling as you cum, and neither of them can last. Their hips stutter as they give sloppy thrusts, until they both cum, 
They groan your name as they spurt their thick cum inside, notching themselves as deep as they could, continuing to fuck their cum inside you with messy thrusts. 
A whimper escapes your lips between pants, as your arms and legs shake from your position, utterly fucked out. You three stay like that for a moment, both of their sweet nothings they murmur to you falling on deaf ears.
And then finally they are shifting you onto the bed, pressing soft kisses to your face and neck, as your eyes flutter shut. There’s shifting on the bed, as one of them leaves for a moment, and you make a noise, only to be reassured that he’ll be right back. 
Your eyes finally flutter open to find Satoru and Suguru cleaning you up with a wet washcloth, and your gaze finds both of their own. Your lips curl at the sight of them, their gentle gaze enough to make your heart ache. 
“Come back,” you whine, and they both chuckle, as they begin to finish drying you off, before tossing the washcloth into the wastebasket, and crawling back beside you. They help you pull a shirt on, before settling in. 
“So needy,” Satoru murmurs, pressing a kiss to your forehead, even as he buries his face in your chest, his warm breath tickling you as you run your fingers softly through his white locks. And Suguru presses himself to your back, pressing a soft kiss to your neck, his arm around your waist, and yours resting on top of his. 
“What will we do with her?” Suguru mutters, and you can hear the smirk in his tone. 
“Shut up,” you mumble, your eyes beginning to feel heavy, as you give into the warmth that enveloped you from their bodies, as it lulled you to sleep. And your lips curled into a smile, a smile that had you wondering right before you slipped into sleep—
When was it that you fell for them? 
~~~~
You couldn’t do this. Not to them. 
That’s what you had decided come morning — waking up between entangled limbs and soft breaths against your skin — how could you? You felt Satoru shift closer to you, as you leaned into his touch, running your fingers through Suguru’s black locks. You were addicted to their touch only after one night, and now you had to spend the rest of your life without it. 
It was the only way. 
This whole thing was ridiculous to begin with — you never cared to be involved in the yakuza to begin with. You wanted a normal life — or at least as normal of a life you could have with who your grandfather was. You had never expected to end up wrapped up in all of this — and in both of them. 
But you didn’t know if you could choose between them — and you knew, you had to. It wasn’t fair to either of them — not when they had asked you to choose last night and they had indulged you in both of them. And now, you didn’t want to let either of them go. 
So you had to let both of them go. 
You shifted slowly to sit up, Your fingers traced Satoru’s cheek lightly, as you toyed with a strand of Suguru’s hair. They both still stayed fast asleep, quiet snores filling the silence of the early morning, deep in the embrace of sleep after the events of last night and the last few weeks. You didn’t want to be someone like your grandfather — you didn’t know what you wanted and that was enough of an answer wasn’t it?
The two shift in their sleep, and your body grows heavy, your back still aching from last night, as you lie back down beside them, running your fingers over both of their arms. 
Even if you had your answer, you didn’t have to face it for another few hours. And their bodies shifted, Satoru burying his face in the nape of your neck, while you rested against Suguru’s chest. This was enough — enough to last you a lifetime, wasn’t it? Your eyes fluttered shut, sinking slowly back to sleep. You had told your grandfather you’d break their hearts — 
—but you didn’t know you would be breaking yours as well. 
~~~
“What do you mean she’s gone?” Satoru narrowed his eyes, crossing his arms, as Suguru stepped aside to show the empty room you had left behind — a bare husk with nothing left behind, not even a note. 
It had been a day. 
When Satoru had woken up beside you, he could have sworn he was still dreaming, even as he grazed your skin gently with the back of his knuckles, he still couldn’t quite believe it. And when he spotted Suguru pressing kisses to your cheek, he knew it was real. 
“How long have you been awake?” Satoru raised an eyebrow, “it’s not fair to have your fun while we were asleep,” 
And Suguru rolled his eyes, as he rubbed the back of his knuckles gently against her cheek, “I just woke up, and all I did was kiss her, you idiot,” 
“Not fair, that means I have to kiss her too,” Satoru murmurs, pressing gentle kisses to your forehead and cheek, and one even to your nose. Your nose wrinkles in your sleep, and Satoru’s lips quirk upwards, “she’s so exhausted from last night still,” 
“She is,” Suguru hums, as he tilts his head, “what are we going to do about last night?” 
Satoru pauses a moment to consider, “Well, what is there to discuss? She chose us both, didn’t she?” Satoru leaned close to you, to press a kiss to your head. 
“She did,” Suguru props himself up with his elbow on his side, “I thought you weren’t one to share,” 
And Satoru shrugged — he wasn’t one to share, he wanted what was his to be his alone, but with you — the more people to protect you, the better, “If it’s what makes her happy, I don’t mind,” and he adds, “and I don’t mind if it’s you that I’m sharing with,” 
Suguru raises an eyebrow, a chuckle on his lips, “Is that so? Well, good,” as he runs a finger through your hair, “because I feel the same.” 
But Satoru supposed you didn’t. 
“When did she—“ 
“My father told me she contacted her grandfather this morning, and let them know she was leaving — and her single request was to send us away on business so we wouldn’t be able to stop her,” and Satoru gives a bitter chuckle. 
“So that’s it?” Satoru crosses his arms, “why did she—“ and he cuts himself off, “have you tried to call—“ 
“I’m blocked, I assume you are too,” Suguru shook his head, a silence settling over the two of them that Satoru chose to break. 
“Do we go after her?” And Suguru pauses, his brow wrinkling a moment, before he sighs, shaking his head. 
“If she comes back, it has to be her choice,” Suguru slid his hands into his pockets, “otherwise, we’re back to square one,” and he adds, “and I don’t think I can go back after last night.” 
Suguru steps away, heading back down the hallway, and Satoru follows. 
No, Satoru thinks, sparing one glance at the empty room, before pulling the door shut, neither could he. 
~~~
“Why did you come back?” You set another box down, wiping the sweat from your brow, your grandfather simply watching as you brought your things back into your room. 
“What a warm welcome,” you scoff, as you head back out to pick up another — the other staff had offered to help, but you had waved them off, lifting another box, your back still aching — and now you were starting to regret it. But you knew if you didn’t do something to distract yourself — your phone taunting you on the top of your desk — you’d do something you’d regret. 
And you’d already filled your quota for the next six months at least. 
“Don’t get me wrong, kid,” the geezer sighed, as he watched you bring the last of the boxes in, “I’m glad you’re back and the matters are all settled — but,” he tilts his head, “you seem more miserable than before,” 
“I’m just tired,” you reply, but his furrowed brow says he’s unconvinced, as you grab a box cutter and begin to open up the boxes, beginning to sort through your things, “and still trying to wrap my head around the fact you lied to me,” 
And he sighs, “this isn’t about me right now — it’s about you—“ 
“How convenient,” you mutter under your breath. 
“You’re in love, aren’t you?” And you can’t help but freeze for a moment, until you force yourself to continue unpacking, pulling out some of your clothes from the box, “which one is it?” 
The question stabs between your ribs like a well thrust sword between the ribs, finding the center of the problem — along with your heart. 
“Gramps—” 
“So it’s both of them?” and you whirl on him, your eyes narrowing, and he chuckles, holding up his hand, “I didn’t spy — I just took a guess,” he sighed, as he pulled out your desk chair and took a seat in it, “and it looks like I was right,” 
You swallow, your eyes falling to the floor, “I didn’t cheat, if that’s what—” 
He laughs, “I know you aren’t like me, little one,” he leans back in the chair, hands folded in his lap, “you aren’t one to lie — because I know there’s more you hate than liars,” and his gaze grows a little sadder, “And I’m sorry I had to become one of them,” 
You grit your teeth, “I’m not mad at you — I’m just—” you choose your words carefully — because you’re angry, you were upset — upset that he felt as if he couldn’t trust you, “wondering why you didn’t tell me the truth,” 
He sighs, rubbing the back of his neck, “My past isn’t something I’m proud of, and I wanted to deal with it without involving you,” he sighed, “after everything with our family — I didn’t want to give you another reason to distance yourself from me,” 
“Lying to me isn’t a better option than that,” he rubs the back of his head, “you have to make it right for Akari and her mother — as well as if you have any other kids—I don’t need to know,” you add, when he opens his mouth, “it isn’t fair to them,” and it would be no fairer to not choose between Satoru and Suguru. 
“You’re right,” he raises a brow, “is that the problem? You can’t choose between the two of them, eh?” and your gaze refuses to meet his, “have you talked to them about it?” and your silence serves as an answer, “then I think you should take your own advice and talk to them about it,” 
“What will that do?” you murmur, “they still will want me to choose—” 
“Do you know that for a fact?” he crosses his arms, “I think you owe it to them and to yourself to talk to them, and to your grandfather who can’t stand to see you this miserable at home,” 
“Do you think it will change anything?” and he shrugs. 
“Maybe it will or maybe it won’t,” he tilts his head, as he pulls out his phone to call you a car, “but if it’s a chance for you to be happy, isn’t it worth taking?” 
~~~~
“I want to marry you both,” 
And again, your statement is met with confused stares, as you had all but pulled up to their compound and entered to find them seated together discussing business in a side room — and their stares were still anything but average — but to you now, they meant so much more. 
“Not marry you right now, but maybe eventually,” adrenaline was surely pumping through your system, right? That’s probably why your hands were shaking and your mouth was dry, but even so you knew you needed to say it before they spoke, “I’m sorry for leaving the way I did. I told myself after we first met I wouldn’t be a coward, but I was when I ran away, and I don’t have any excuse,” you swallowed, “but I know what I want — and I want both of you, as selfish as that feels,” guilt crawled up your throat at the statement of that sentence, as if begging you to swallow the words that spilled from your lips back up, “and I don’t know how either of you feel — but if we were to do this, I would want us to be honest and—” 
And the screech of their chairs takes you aback, and you felt your cheeks burn, was this it? 
But instead of brushing past you, they stand in front of you, one of them tilting your head upwards to meet their gazes. 
“Took you long enough, sweetheart,” Satoru’s lips curled, his hand cupping your cheek, “I know we said we wanted you to hurt us, but not like that,”
“Sent us away just to ghost us,” Suguru clicked his tongue, his fingers still under your chin, “I’ll have to plant a tracker on you again,” 
You shake your head, “Wait, what? Are you both okay—” 
“We did say we’d kill the other for your hand, but,” Suguru presses a kiss to your forehead, “But now we realize the more eyes watching you, the better, and,” he shrugs, “we don’t mind sharing if it’s just with the other,” 
“And I know you’ll prefer me sooner or later,” Satoru adds, earning a glare from Suguru, as you only chuckle, “Suguru is always so grumpy—ow!” Suguru smacks on the back of the head, as the black haired yakuza wraps his arms around you, pressing your back to his front. 
“And you are always too busy running your mouth,” Suguru replies, pressing a kiss to your cheek, “sure you can handle both of us in your life?” and you pull Satoru close too, letting his lips brush yours, before turning and pressing a kiss to Suguru. 
“Shouldn’t you be asking yourselves that?” you say, as the two of them wrap an arm around you, “I am supposed to ruin your lives after all.” 
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✧ a/n: so this has been a longtime coming. i was supposed to be working on prof geto (5) + my nanami celebration fic but this took over my life and wouldn't let go until i finished. so i hope you guys enjoy!! and this is my reminder why i don't write multi partner scenes like this often because its....difficult. thank you to @gaylatteart for reading and putting up with me <333
✧ taglist: @midmourn, @whore-for-hawks, @ekaterinatepes, @satoryaa, @mandysfanfics, @sodoney, @sukunasfavoritehole, @kazbrkker, @satorugirlie, @itsbokutosjuicyass, @santos4, @levanadragoneel, @talkativetranscendant, @abiiebibie, @simply-a-s1mp, @jolynelovesrain, @deegausserr, @xxemmarldxx, @biancaness, @satoniko, @ackermanbby, @rintoriss, @kentocalls, @marionettte, @bear-likes-mushrooms, @forest-hashira, @catsgomurp, @k1t0u, @rat-loves, @forest-fruits-jam, @wishingforanother, @roseified, @spider-fan72, @caelestine-the-caelicatto, @gojolvrr34, @chosobun, @chuuyasboots, @nanamis-baker, @hanxyy,
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haloermin-rants · 1 year
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:))))
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thegnomelord · 7 months
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Good Dog
CW: NSFW, DARK-FIC, murder, gore, power imbalance, size difference(reader's bigger), description of torture and brainwashing, oral, anal, blood as lube, plot and exposition with porn, pet play(collars and leashes), toxic relationship, dub-con, very very self indulgent.
Моя гончая- my hound, Хороший солдат - good soldier, Расслабьтесь, братья мои - relax, my brothers, приносить - fetch, есть - eat
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The thick door and walls of the private room do nothing to damped the bass of the club pounding in his ears, the annoying music made bearable by the high of a recent victory. Puffs of cigarette smoke lazily curl in the air as Makarov leans further back into the couch, the buzzing sting of a fresh tattoo helping him relax. The scent of expensive liquor only adds to the heady atmosphere, crystal clear vodka swirling in his glass before Makarov takes a sip. His dark eyes peer over the rim of his glass, like doorways to a dark abyss, his gaze dancing across the faces of his most trusted men before settling on the lieutenant's as the man tries to prove his worth with pointless words.
Above all else, Makarov values loyalty.
It doesn't matter how strong a man is if he can't follow orders. The number of soldiers he can lead is pointless when he can't keep his men alive. How well he can shoot is meaningless when he can't devote himself to a cause. A man who is disloyal is a man of single use.
Makarov doesn't even try to listen to whatever drivel the lieutenant's spouting, he doesn't see a reason to sour his mood when he already knows everything: the embezzling, the lying, the adorable double agent act. He has you to thank for that, you'd sniffed the lieutenant out the second you met him, diligently uncovering every speck of dirt the lieutenant had attempted to hide from Makarov.
And you? You are very loyal. His loyal hound.
His fingers curl around the leash, the smooth black leather sliding against his calloused palms. A barely there tug is all it takes for you to lean down over the back of the couch, bracing one large hand near his head for support as the other remains over the grip of your sidearm. You loom over him, and while Makarov may be a fearsome man, he can't deny the type of foreboding fear a goliath like you inspires — a towering figure always a step behind him, broad body big enough to easily cover him fully if you need to take a bullet for him, arms strong and palms wide to easily crack a man's skull.
Settling the glass down he takes another drag of his cigarette, "Hound," Another tug — sharper, harsher; such a small correction yet the fact you needed it at all has acrid disappointment burning on your tongue — makes you bend down more, your face now next to his. He doesn't draw attention to the reprimand, breathing out a puff of smoke near your face. "Were you listening, моя гончая?"
It's a pointless question, he knows you were listening, he trained you to. But he asks because he loves to see the way your eyes darken, jaw tight. The cigarette smoke dances in the air, making the club's low lights reflect off the sharp spikes adorning the thick collar snuggly wrapped around your throat. Your day collar suits you well, no different than the spiked collars put on hunting hounds.
"Yes sir." You answer, your attention now solely on the lieutenant.
Makarov hums, eyes flickering from the lieutenant to you. "And?" He chuckles and lets the leash go, his word keeping you in place as he casually pats your neck. "What did you hear?"
"Lies. . ." The slow slide of his fingers across the uncovered parts of your throat makes your breath stutter, static crackling beneath your skin. "I heard lies, sir." Your answer causes the lieutenant to try and sputter excuses and denials, all cut short by the harsh look you give him.
Makarov chuckles, hooking a finger over the silver loop at the front of your collar, pulling on it and tilting his head so his lips can ghost across your jaw. "Хороший солдат." Makarov murmurs. His stubble scratches your skin as his lips brush a path to your ear, so very close to a lover's kiss.
But a brush of skin is all it is. Nothing more. Your body earns for more, to turn your head and experience the bruising possessiveness of his kiss once again, to feel his teeth bite down on your lip until blood floods both of your mouths. But you don't move; A spoiled dog isn't loyal and Makarov won't lavish you with attention for nothing. no — you must earn it.
"Stay." The soft 'click' of the leash unclipping sounds the same as a sentencing gavel, the strip of leather falling away until only his word keeps you from tearing the lieutenant's throat out with your teeth. Makarov smirks against your skin, his words honey sweet to your ears as he whispers: "Sick him."
That seals the ex-lieutenant's fate.
You're on the lieutenant in an instant, crashing into him like a truck. Makarov leans back and lights up another cigarette as you stomp down on the man's leg, all the weight you carry around bearing down on his bones until they break, erasing any foolish thoughts of escape when you snap the bones of his other ankle; Makarov has truly taught you well.
The screams of a traitor are much better than the atrocious club music, letting him enjoy the smooth burn of the vodka as another stomp breaks a couple of ribs. Some of his men are still nervous around you, trying not to shuffle in their seats lest they grab your attention and become the new outlet of your violence.
"Расслабьтесь, братья мои." Makarov gives a charming smile, resting his ankle on his knee as he takes another drag. "Hound is well trained, you have nothing to fear." He chuckles, lazily watching you as he holds conversation with his lieutenants. Honestly, you're like a dog with a new toy, tossing the man around and pinning him down under your heavy body, each swing of your fists steadily turning the ex-lieutenant's face into pulp.
It's as entertaining for him as it is therapeutic for you.
And to think Price had tried to suppress all that beautiful savageness you possessed.
Makarov remembers how you'd been nothing but a snarling and cursing ball of anger when his men had captured you after a botched mission. He had been both annoyed and amused by how loyal you were to Price, weathering every beating and starving and humiliation with the same 'fuck you' response, baring your teeth like the cornered dog you were. With days turning to months and your resolve refusing to waver under their 'care' Makarov had considered just putting you down, sending a nice video of blowing your skull open to Price but oh — is he glad he decided to indulge in the game your stubbornness presented.
He set out to train you like he would any mongrel mutt, clear expectations making it easy to tell whether your actions would get you a reward or an even worse punishment, giving small rewards for the behavior he wanted; not snarling at him might earn you a better meal. Biting your lip and taking your beating without back talk could get you a couple of minutes outside the claustrophobic walls of your cell. Letting him touch and inspect your body without complaint might reward you with a book or some other little creature comfort he could, and did, easily take away the moment you stepped out of line.
Of course you were weary, perceptive enough to know when he was scheming. But every man has his limits, yours were simply reached when he handed you official C.I.A documents proclaiming you as K.I.A, the mission itself creatively rewritten to sound like you had gone and deserted to the enemy — no one was looking for you, no one was coming to save you, your captain, Price, wasn't coming to save you.
He had taken great enjoyment in running his fingers across your scalp as you clutched the documents in a white knuckled grip, your mind far too worn down to question or guard against the soft touches. His lips had brushed against your ear, soothingly raspy voice comforting you — you're a good soldier, strong, reliable, everything a commander could dream of. It wasn't your fault you trusted the wrong man, truly, what a shame to have your loyalty repaid with betrayed like that.
After that, it became laughably easy to train you. He stuck with simple commands, spoken only in Russian so he could amuse himself with the way your head would tilt before you'd perk up, recognition making your dull eyes brighten before you did what he wanted in exchange for a small scrap of his affection, learning to seek his praise and appreciate his touch even when your body still prickled with disgust. So when he handed you the knife, standing so close you could have easily slit his throat, and ordered you to kill another member of your previous taskforce, you hadn't hesitated for a second. "Good boy." He had purred, caressing your jaw as he used his thumb to wipe away the blood staining your cheek.
"Hound." His voice is as effective as any physical tug on your leash, making you stop mid punch with your fist inches away from the ex-lieutenant's caved in face. You're covered in blood, the rich crimson bringing out the violence swirling in your eyes.
Yet you look at him with utter adoration he wants to shove his cock deep down your throat just so he can see your tears smudge the blood on your cheeks. "Приносить." He taps his thigh.
You nod your head, grabbing the knife strapped to your thigh. There's no hesitation in your movements as you shove the knife into the ex-lieutenant's throat. An arc of blood spurts across your front when you yank it out just to stab another spot, the man coughing and choking as you cut through cartilage and muscle until with a good yank and a sickening 'crack!' you separate the head from the body.
Makarov had never seen the appeal of large hulking brutes until you — your body had filled back out with muscle and fat nicely after you became his, towering body demanding attention simply by existing as you stand up. The loud stomp of your feet and the blood staining your body making you look like a barbarian, casting a shadow over him before you kneel at his feet, offering the decapitated head as a knight does to his king.
Oh yes, he definitely sees the appeal now.
"Good dog." He purrs, reaching out to stroke your jaw, smearing some of the blood with his thumb. Fingers sliding down to hook on the silver ring on your collar he pulls your head closer. "Do you think you earned a reward?"
It's a test. One you're intimately familiar with. The judgmental stares of Makarov's trusted men are the last thing in your mind when the closeness of his body and the sharp crisp scent of his cologne threatens to shatter your resolve. "Only if you permit it, sir." Your throat feels dry, trying not to show how eager you are for his attention as you place the head on the floor so you don't get a drop of blood on him.
Makarov smirks, "Smart dog," His hands move to the back of your neck, unbuckling the collar. You're no longer ashamed to admit you feel naked as the thick piece of leather is pulled away; the time when you didn't have a collar wrapped around your neck feel like a distant memory and now the sensation of breathing without it pressing against your skin is disturbing. You have to bite your lip to keep the low whine from escaping your chest.
His hand wraps securely around your throat, bringing your breath back to you. Your Adam's apple bobs beneath his fingers as he traces the 'V.M' shallowly carved across your throat. "It's already starting to fade." He tuts, squeezing his fingers to restrict your breathing just the slightest bit more. "We'll need to have it tattooed. That would be nice, yes?"
You suck in a sharp breath, "Yes sir."
"Хороший солдат." He purrs. He pulls out another collar from his pocket and you feel yourself chub up in your pants just at the sight of it. It's the chained pronged one he uses exclusively when he wants you to pleasure him, particularly because it leaves such pretty bruises along your skin when he tugs on the leash.
You eagerly tilt your head back to bare your throat, a shudder rushing down your spine as soon as you feel the cold metal against your skin. You stay perfectly still as he secures around your neck, the sharp pull of the leash making the prongs dig into your skin, prickles of pain making you even harder. "Go on," Makarov hums, spreading his legs wider so your attention falls to the hard bulge in his slacks, his belt undone but the rest left to you. "есть."
You don't think you could enjoy servicing him as much as you did if he didn't let you work for it, the reward made sweeter because you earned it. Truly, he's so good to you, you'd thank him profusely but he hasn't given you permission to speak freely. So you lean in, careful not to get blood on his pants as you take the metal zipper between your teeth and pull it down. You've done this enough not to have any problems undoing the button, your hands obediently planted on your thighs and your gaze firmly on him so you can see the pleased smirk that spreads across his features when you bite the band of his boxers and pull them down until his cock springs out, already hard.
A pleased sigh escapes him when your warm lips wrap around the head of his cock, the leash wrapped firmly around his hand and the slightest tug on it has pain prickling down your spine. "Моя гончая, don't waste my time." You can't help but whine lowly at the admonishment, quickly trying to make up to him by sucking on the tip and licking the slit in just the way he likes it.
His leg shifts, hard boot coming up to grind the sole against your clothed cock. "That's better." The praise makes you moan deep from your chest and try to take more of his cock into your mouth, your boxers wet and sticky against your own cock as you give an experimental hump of your hips against his boot. You scrape your teeth along the vein on the underside of his cock and it earns you a rough grind of his boot. His hand tangles in your bloodied hair and pulls you down until his cock bumps the back of your throat.
You nearly choke from the sudden pressure, trying to fight off the reflex to pull back and gag. "Look at me." His order rings clear in your head, your eyes meeting his as he grinds your nose into his pubic hair, tears prickling the corners of your eyes as your lungs start to burn. You fight through it, the fluttering of your throat making him five a small, rough, moan and fuck — you're hard as a rock.
Just as you feel like you'll pass out on his cock he lets you off, yanking your head back. You're only given a few seconds to take a sharp breath of fresh air before he pushes your head back down. You're prepared this time, hollowing your cheeks and relaxing your throat, swallowing around his hard cock. The way you suck Makarov off is wet and sloppy, stealing ragged breaths when you can as you trace the veins of his cock with your tongue and gently nibble on the base when his cock's fully sheathed in your throat, knowing exactly how to please him. Your efforts are rewarded with the salty taste of precum on your tongue, hearing him occasionally mutter his praises in Russian, none of his words snagging on your mind like sharp orders so you let yourself drift in the pleasure of servicing him, subconsciously grinding your cock into his foot.
But you're not mentally gone enough not to notice the squeaking of chairs, your body tensing as you pull up enough so only his head remains in your mouth, your head turned just enough to throw a sharp glare at the other men in the room. Makarov having his guard down like this makes you tense, violence buzzing beneath your skin from the ingrained need to protect him.
"Hound." Makarov's growl is followed by another sharp tug of the leash, the dull ache of the metal prongs digging into your skin dissipating some of your aggression. "Did I tell you to stop?"
You shake your head as best you can, a pathetic whine escaping your chest from the way the pain makes your cock even harder. Satisfied, he eases the leash, letting you return to your work. His head lolls back, lazily looking at his men. He couldn't care less who sees you like this, but now he wants your full attention on him. "Leave." He gives the simple command.
You track the sound of shuffling feet as you take him fully into your mouth, making him hiss a curse under his breath. Nuzzling your nose into his curly pubic hair you breathe in his musk, his heel grinding firmly and consistently against your hard cock, pleasure pulsing through your veins with such intensity you're worried you'll cum without permission, low whines escaping your throat.
He pulls you off him suddenly, your lungs burning as you gasp for air. You expect him to paint your face with his cum, stake an obvious ownership over you. But he doesn't, pulling you by the leash and leaning down to mash your lips together, teeth biting down on your lip until it bleeds.
Makarov's kisses are rough and demanding, the sweet drug your body's been craving, teeth clicking together and tongues swirling in each other's mouths. The firm grind of his boot against your crotch makes you moan lowly, a sound he happily swallows down and nearly shoves his tongue down your throat. You part far too soon, your body craving much much more, but he doesn't let you stew in the disappointment of a short kiss — it's an owner's responsibility to spoil his pet — mumbling against your lips. "Prepare me."
A full shudder runs down your spine and you surge to follow his order. Makarov loves the determined look you get in your eye just as much as he loves the rough way you grip his hips and hike them up so you can pull his pants and boxers down his legs. Your bloodied fingers grip his hips and pull them down until his ass hangs off the edge of the couch, throwing his legs over your shoulders and he can feel the muscles deep in his back strain as you nearly bend him in half, his hard cock and hole bared for you.
It's a vulnerable position, trapped between your bulky frame and the couch he has no way to escape. And if anyone else were to attempt this he would feed every inch of their flesh to themselves. But Makarov relishes the knowledge that he's in control, a single word from him would make you stop regardless of how hard and wanting you were, your loyalty to him as real as the dead man's blood you dip your fingers in to lube them.
Your fingers circle his hole before you press the pad of your finger against it. Without the heat of battle the cold viscousness of the blood feels disgusting, making him shiver and his rim flutter against your digit. But the discomfort is easily forgotten when you apply pressure, the steady and persistent way you push your finger in forcing his muscles to yield. "Shit-" Makarov clenches his teeth; your fingers are so large just one feels like two of his own, the gnawing pain of your finger pushing deeper just amplifying the pleasure of being stretched open and your other hand loosely stroking his wet cock.
You don't go slower than you need to, perfectly trained to know how to move your fingers to keep him teetering on the edge between pleasure and pain, each shift and slow drag of your finger pulling deep grunt and soft breaths from between his clenched teeth. "Yes, there you go." His praise makes your heart melt and cock throb in your pants, the pull of the leash bringing your lips together in another harsh kiss. You swallow his moans greedily, pushing a second finger in and curling them in search of his prostate, your thumb incessantly rubbing the space between his balls and ass to trap the spongy flesh between your fingers.
He nearly chokes you with how hard he yanks on the leash, hips pushing back into your hand and walls clenching down on your fingers. The stinging ache of being stretched open mixes with the building pleasure, leaving his skin feeling like a live wire. His teeth dig into your lip until it bleeds again, heels digging into your back. He grinds his hips down on your fingers, muttering praises against your lips as you push a third finger in and force him to take it.
He can't wait any more, gripping your hair and roughly yanking your head back. "Fuck me already." He growls, licking the blood staining your cheek.
You scramble to do as you're told, continuing to stretch him open as you undo your belt and pants with one hand, your hard cock bobbing against your abdomen. Pulling your fingers out you scoop up more blood, the cold helping reign in your lust as you lube up.
Before you can do anything he reaches out to grip the base of your cock, his hold firm and just at the cusp of pain. "You'll be good, yes?" He growls against your lips. "Fuck me good and hard?" His hand moves, stroking you slowly, evenly coating the blood along your cock. "I don't need to show you how to use this thing again, do I?" There's a dangerous edge in his voice.
Fear shoots down your spine, mouth going dry. You'd been too eager for human touch when he first let you mount him, and when you came seconds after getting inside him he'd been less than pleased by your abilities. You couldn't feel your cock for a full week after he'd tied you down and used your cock until you couldn't cum, using a cock ring to keep you hard and using you until he was satisfied.
You quickly shake your head. "No sir," You choke out and bare your throat. "I can do it, I'll be good." You promise.
His hold loosens, tugging you by the hair so he can peck your lips, his tongue licking over the small wound he'd made. "Don't fail me now."
You steel yourself like you're going to war, pressing your cockhead to his hole. Your nails dig into his hip, your grip ironclad to keep him still as you pull him down more and simultaneously push in. There's a second of resistance before your head pops in, the pleasure of entering his velvet soft insides being met with sharp pain as his teeth chomp down on your shoulder through your shirt. It all mixes in your brain into pure bliss, your hips bucking up into him automatically until you're bottomed out. You hold him close to you and leisurely grind your hips, letting him get used to the mind numbing stretch.
Fuck— Makarov may see the appeal of brutes but impaled on your cock he feels like he's being split in two, lungs burning and he can almost swear your tip's poking his diaphragm. He chases the pain more than the pleasure, heels digging into your back to give him some leverage so he can push his hips into yours. "Yes," His head lolls back when you slowly withdraw, only to suddenly snap your hips and hilt yourself inside him again. "-fuck, yes!"
The blood keeps you from tearing him apart but there's too little of it to keep him from feeling the painful stretch, the slow movement of your hips making his thighs shake. "Harder," He demands, yanking on your leash and biting your shoulder again. "Make me feel it." His voice is rough with a demand, because men like him never beg.
"Yes sir," You manage, bracing your feet and setting a rough pace, rutting into him like an animal. He muffles his sounds into your shoulder as your cock saws into him, his walls fluttering and clenching around you so tightly it feels like he'll snap your cock off. You do your best to focus on him and his pleasure, but the tight heat of his hole is rapidly melting any control you have, your cock throbbing and leaking precum inside him.
"Sir, please-" You whine, your muscles tight and your balls feeling so full you feel like you'll burst, your voice full of need. "I'm so close."
“Not yet.” He growls, pushing his hips down to meet your thrusts, your hand stroking his cock. “Make me cum first.” He growls.
You hold back a pathetic whine and redouble your efforts, your rough thrusts bruising his ass as you fuck into him, aiming to nail his prostate every time you bottom out. He wails, whole body shaking, his cock throbbing in your hand and leaking a puddle of precum on his stomach.
Makarov cums without any warning, going rigid and biting your shoulder even harder as pearly cum shoots from his tip, his walls clamping down on your cock. "C- cum!" He snarls, voice muffled, and it's all you need. Bottoming out fully you moan as you shoot his insides full of your cum, rocking your hips and grinding your cock against his prostate to prolong both of our highs.
You hold him close as you come down to reality but the way his walls clench around your cock makes you feel like heaven. His hands grip your jaw, bringing you down into a disorganized sloppy kiss. He's boneless in your arms, his walls continuing to flutter around you. "That was good." He slurs, chest rising and falling as he tries to catch his breath. "Good dog."
The tug of the leash is expected and Makarov kisses the corner of your lips, tongue swiping across your skin to lick up more of the blood staining your lips. "Clean me up." He orders, "Lick up your mess." He growls, and there's not a single part of you that would refuse him.
Tag list: @lieutnt, @pastelclovds @thee-great-enigma @vladimirking24
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sugrhigh · 5 months
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THE BOY IS MINE - ( m.s )
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REQUESTED**
summary- after years of friendship, you’ve seen matt date people before, but none of them have been as bad as this new one. you’ve never interfered with any of the girls in the past, but one night she takes it too far and your true feelings come out.
warnings- cursing, unprotected sex (pretend ur on birth control but also wrap it before you tap it), choking, cheating, dom!matt, it’s smut with a plot guys are we surprised (read at ur own fucking discretion PLEASE!)
a/n: thank you @stonermattsgf for the request!! i fucking loved this concept and the song eats down i hope i did u some justice <3 the touch it chris fic will be coming too cuz im fuckin with that song as well (if you weren’t tagged it wouldn’t let me tag you, i’m sorry!!)
@fawnchives @teapartyprincess4two @sturnioloco @mattinside @l9vesick @sturnsblunt @ev3rgreenxtrees @wh0resstuff @matthewsmocktails @cherrypostsposts @bxbynyah7 @seababehh @sturnsfav @mattsluv @sturniolossss @melanch0lybby @sturniolos-blog @lustfulslxt @sturnioloobssesd @ginswife @amypull @vivianalovesmatt @st4niolos @sturnioloobessed @sturnlova @bigbeefybitch @minhyucks @iheart-zegras @vicsguitarr @melonjollyranche @hearts4matty @vickyzloserz @user8000000 @xoxo4chrisss @unfilteredassmf @mattsbiggesthoe @chrisstopherfilmed @st3rniolo @goldengrapejuice @luv2matt @vsangel-starbies @mikaelabutterfield @mattnchrisworld @bluesturniolo333 @wurlibydominicfike @kp07on @hayleyreadsblog
in no universe did you expect to be pining after one of your best friends.
it had always been strictly platonic between you and matt, aside from a little harmless flirting over the years. you loved him and his brothers so much that you never wanted to mess anything up, or complicate things when the dynamic was already perfect.
but as much as you’re close with each of them, you know you’ve always understood matt on a deeper level. you share the same goals, the same fears, even the same taste in music and movies.
he’s always been the first person to check in, the only one who can read your mood like the back of his hand, the guy who cheers you up and lets you cry on his shoulder when things are shitty.
despite these sweet gestures, you’ve both had your fair share of relationships and flings while being best friends. none of them have ever bothered you before, and you’ve always tried to be respectful and kind to whichever girl he picks.
that is, until now.
matt is sitting across from you on the couch in their living room, slight frown etched on his face. his girlfriend, maya, has her legs sprawled across his lap comfortably, arms linked like she’s claiming him.
her eyes are practically locked on you. you don’t blame her; she’s well aware that you’re not her biggest fan.
all she does is complain about all of the things she doesn’t like about matt. last time she hung out with you guys, she was bitching about the fact that he kissed her in public at a party, as if she was worried he was scaring off other guys.
when he buys her flowers, they’re the wrong ones. if he takes her to dinner, she whines about the food. she’ll even criticize his clothes, demanding that they match and he hides the tattoos. to her, he can’t do anything right, even though he’s incredible just the way he is.
so it drives you absolutely insane watching the way she walks all over matt, all over his brothers, even you. it’s been two months of this agony, and you can’t believe it’s even lasted this long.
you spend nearly every day thinking about how much better you could treat him. every time he touches you, no matter how briefly, your skin burns in desire. it’s selfish to want someone who’s taken, and you’re well aware of that.
but you just love matt, you know him. and he deserves better. maybe it’s you, maybe it’s not. but it’s certainly not maya.
“give it to me, fuckhead.” chris’s voice rips you out of your trance, and you snap your head toward the middle of the U-shaped sofa.
he’s currently fighting nick for the remote, who slaps the side of his arm rather hard. chris lets go, only to pull his brother into a headlock seconds later. nick lets out a yelp of surprise, jamming an elbow into his side to get him to stop.
in all the commotion, you decide to grab the remote for yourself, a wide smile settling across your features as you take it into your palm.
they both notice quickly, groaning in protest as you wave it at them tauntingly.
“too slow! now i get to pick, idiots.” you tease.
“c’mon, i just went to war for that thing.” nick complains, kicking your leg half-heartedly, but you just shake your head.
“snooze you lose.”
you scroll through your options, trying to pay no mind to the way maya is whispering to matt for so long she could be reciting the bible. then your eyes land on a title that makes you pause, chuckling a little to yourself.
“oh no way, they have fucking cocaine bear on here?” chris cackles.
nick looks rather amused himself, raising his eyebrows like he’s intrigued. “i mean, i’m game.”
you glance over at matt, who’s already looking at you with a grin on his face. he mentioned the movie to you a little while ago, and how he just had to see how stupid it was eventually.
“why would we waste our time watching this shit? isn’t it supposed to be awful?” maya chimes from beside him, and your gaze narrows in on her.
“it’ll be funny, you know, ‘cause it’s so bad.” you reply, trying to keep your voice light and friendly.
she tilts her head to the side slightly, studying you with disapproving eyes. “yeah, i’m not so sure about trusting your taste. i mean, that god-awful outfit is just one example.”
the air seems to be sucked out of the room as you grip your sweats self-consciously. nobody moves, nobody speaks. you feel the anger flare up in your veins as you look at matt, wondering if he’s going to step in like he should.
but he doesn’t. in fact, he’s avoiding your gaze altogether. so you square your shoulders and turn your focus back to the girl you dislike so much. you’re done with the passive aggressive comments, with all of the bullshit glares and insults.
you’re done letting her bulldoze you. if matt wants to go through that, fine. but he doesn’t have to take everyone down with him by subjecting them to maya’s presence.
“well, you seem to be the only one who has a problem with my taste, so maybe you should just leave.” you say calmly, smiling sarcastically at the end because you can’t help it.
her mouth pops open, and you can hear chris and nick trying to stifle their gasps and chuckles. even the corner of matt’s lips turn up, which makes you wonder.
maya turns to look at her boyfriend, completely astonished. “are you seriously going to let her talk to me like that?”
he seems conflicted as he briefly looks your direction, clearing his throat to buy some time. you tilt an eyebrow, crossing your arms like you’re just waiting for him to pick his side.
she may have asked the question, but now you’re dying to know the answer.
“maya is right. and, uh, i think you should apologize.” matt fumbles with his words, unable to speak to you directly.
you feel the fury work its way up your face, and you force yourself to blink away the burning sensation of frustrated tears. maya looks far too satisfied, and you want to slap the smirk off of her face.
but you know you can’t lay hands on her, so you decide your words will have to be your knives.
“you know what, i am sorry,” you begin, raising your hands in surrender.
they’re both a bit surprised by this change in direction, so after a brief pause, you continue.
“i’m really sorry that you’re dating a stuck up bitch. i’m sorry that she’s constantly taking advantage of your kindness. i’m sorry that she treats you like shit, that she talks down to you like you’re a child, that she’s never satisfied with the things you do. and i’m especially sorry that you continue to let her, because you can do so much better.”
if maya’s eyeballs could pop out of her skull, you would imagine it would be exactly like how she looks right now. matt is also slack jawed beside her, and you can’t be near him any longer.
so you stand up, turning to leave the boy you love so much without another word.
the fresh night air of spring is a relief once you step out the front door, and you try to let it calm you as you hustle toward your car. you can already feel your phone buzzing in your back pocket as you move, presumably nick and chris.
you hope they’re not angry. it’s bad enough knowing that you’ve royally fucked things up with matt, but you couldn’t bare it if all three of them hated you.
you practically toss yourself into the drivers seat, slamming the door closed with a force that shakes the entire vehicle. you’re peeling out of the driveway before you can even reflect on the consequences of your actions, speeding home as if your life depended on it.
your ringtone continues to erupt as you drive along the backroads, but you force yourself to ignore it for the time being.
only once you throw the car into park in your own driveway do you check the messages, scrolling through the numerous notifications. unsurprisingly most of them are from nick and chris like you presumed, wondering if you’re alright and applauding you for finally standing up to the wicked witch of the west.
for a brief moment, their kind words make you feel better.
but then your eyes catch a contact that you actually don’t expect; matt’s. you stare at your device, throat going completely dry. a missed call and two texts.
matt
i’m coming over
don’t bother saying no, im already on my way
that was five minutes ago, which means he’s not too far behind you. you tear out of your car and across the yard, throwing the door open carelessly.
your heart is still slamming against your ribcage, and fear crawls up your throat as you press your back to the wood, kicking your flip flops off in the general direction of the coat rack.
your mind flashes to the idea of him yelling at you, which you suppose would be somewhat warranted. you’ve seen matt angry on a couple of occasions, and you can’t imagine he has anything kind to say to you right now.
you pace the foyer as you wait for his arrival, picking at the beds of your fingernails anxiously.
and then it happens; the loud knock on the front door, followed by another series of harsh slams.
impatient motherfucker.
you straighten up as your palm wraps around the knob, sucking in a breath before pulling it open to reveal a rather disheveled matt.
he’s breathing heavy, hair messy as if he’s been tugging at it for the entire drive. his earrings glint in the porch light as he stares at you like he’s trying to commit every feature to memory, wetting his lips hungrily.
“matt—”
you barely get his name out before he wraps his ring-clad fingers around your throat, pulling your mouth to his harshly. he molds against you perfectly, his other hand traveling to your hip to hold you flush against his own body.
he just couldn’t help it. he was so desperate on the entire ride over, replaying your outburst on a loop in his mind as he drove further and further away from his girlfriend. there’s been only a few occasions he’s seen you that upset, and your comments had been a necessary slap in the face.
plus, watching you fight for him when he was too much of a bitch to do it himself was a bigger turn-on than he’d like to admit.
all he’s ever wanted is you. and it shouldn’t have taken this long to admit it to himself.
matt guides you backwards, hand still squeezing your neck as he blindly kicks the door shut with one foot. you feel your back bump against the kitchen counter, and you’re trying to register what the hell is going on, but his kiss is so fucking intoxicating that it’s impossible to think clearly.
his tongue slides against yours passionately, and the flavored chapstick you’re wearing is driving him insane. you can feel him growing hard against your thigh as he toys with the elastic waistband of your pants suggestively.
you have no idea if this means it’s officially over with him and maya, but you find that you quite frankly don’t give a shit.
in this moment, he’s yours.
his fingers finally dip into your sweats a few seconds later, traveling down to brush against your clothed heat as he moves his mouth to your jaw sloppily. a breathy moan escapes before you can stop it, involuntarily rutting your hips against his cold rings in search of more friction.
one of your hands goes to grip the hair at the nape of his neck while the other claws at his back, desperately wrapping your knuckle around the cloth of his muscle tee.
“you like that?” matt grumbles against your throat, nipping at the skin as he begins to apply real pressure to your cunt in little circular motions.
your back arches and you tilt your head to the side so you can give him full access, silently hoping he’ll leave a mark behind.
“you’ve been thinking about me touching you like this, haven’t you? wishing i would come fuck you instead of her?” he questions further, moving his head slightly so he’s speaking directly into your ear.
the hand that was choking you slides down so he can grope your chest, his thumb running over one of your hardened nipples through the thin shirt you’re wearing. the combined pleasure has you whining in his grasp, a submissive sound that you wish you weren’t making.
you can feel him grinning as he presses his mouth to that sweet spot below your earlobe, his tongue darting out to wet the area.
“you want me just as much.” you manage to find your voice, though your claim is muttered with no conviction.
matt pauses his movements and brings both hands to your waistband again, which makes you whimper as you clench around nothing. his mouth finds yours briefly to swallow the sound, and he bites down on your bottom lip as he pulls away.
“you’re not wrong. so are you gonna give me what i want, baby?” he asks as he teases your sweats and panties just a little lower on your hips.
“keep going.” you plead.
you let go of your grip on his body so he can tug both items down to your ankles, helping you step out of their grasp before discarding them a couple feet away.
matt doesn’t immediately stand back up; instead he takes his time, kissing the side of your knees as his hands slide up the outside of your thighs. you feel so exposed, so on-display that you clench your legs together before you can help it.
he immediately pries them apart, shaking his head slightly with a little smirk. “don’t be shy now, you had so much to say earlier.”
his words spur you on, so you spread yourself wider, opting to grip the counter as he reattaches his lips to your inner thighs. matt inches closer and closer to where you really need him, taking his time to nip at the supple flesh that comes before.
he pulls away right when you think he’s finally about to put his mouth on you, letting his hot breath fan across your soaked center. it makes you shiver in anticipation, and you’re getting a little too needy now.
“quit fucking teas—oh shit.”
you throw your head back as his two fingers spread you apart, tongue coming in contact with the middle of your cunt as he laps at the wetness that had pooled there.
he slows his pace slightly after a moment, making sure to pay attention to the whole area, working his way up until his nose bumps against your clit. you spit a curse out, letting one hand go so you can grip his soft hair.
matt continues on, his lips closing around the sensitive bud so he can apply more pressure and suction. your gut flips at the sensation and your grip on his roots tightens as his mouth works.
he grumbles, loving the way you’re pulling at him so desperately. the noise sends vibrations through your core, which only makes the experience more enjoyable.
“fuckkk, matt, feels so good.” you praise dumbly, your words slurring.
the vocal admiration makes his pulse quicken, and at this point he’s straining against his jeans. he just can’t believe he’s got you like this, grinding your cunt against his face as if he’s the best you’ve ever had.
he can tell you’re growing closer just based on the little gasps and moans leaving your mouth, and your legs begin to shake ever so slightly. but he won’t let you finish just yet.
“want to be inside this pretty pussy.” he pulls away to say it, pressing one more wet kiss to the delicate area before he gets up.
you’re craving more, so you decide to take initiative, reaching for his belt and fumbling to undo the buckle. you tear it from the loops and toss it away, moving to his zipper as he reaches behind his head to tug his loose tank off.
his pants fall to the floor, leaving him in only his tented boxers. he’s quick to kick his shoes off, followed by his jeans right after.
then his hands go to your waist, fingers digging into the smooth flesh.
“up.” he instructs bluntly, helping lift you onto the end of the marbled countertop so he’s standing between your legs.
he lifts your shirt up next, and you help him out by throwing your arms above your head so he can fully remove it. his eyes train downwards, admiring the way your sheer bra hugs your tits. it hardly leaves anything to the imagination, and matt finds it extremely hot that you’ve been wearing it all night without him knowing.
before he can make a move, you surprise him by reaching back confidently to unhook the garment yourself. you let it slip from your shoulders before throwing it to your side, revealing your bare chest to him wordlessly.
he pulls his lip between his teeth as he exhales, gently guiding you downwards so your back is pressed flat against the cool surface. matt looks intimidating standing over you, his dark eyes drinking in every inch of your body.
“you’re so fucking sexy.” he says in awe, leaning down to give you another real kiss, a salty mix of sweat and arousal on his lips.
then he finds his way down to your collarbone, staying there shortly before traveling between the valley of your breasts. without warning, he presses his tongue flat across one nipple, flicking it back and forth.
you push your chest further into his face with a moan, both hands in his hair this time. he moves to the other perky bud, sucking on it as his teeth graze the tissue ever so slightly.
you’re practically writhing underneath him, and you can feel the pit growing in your stomach again. so even though it feels incredible, you yank his head back off of your chest by his hair.
“need you to fuck me.” you mutter, pushing his hair out of his face with both of your hands.
matt nods once, straightening so he can slide his underwear down. his erection finally springs free, pink tip glistening with precum. you watch as he spreads the wetness around, pumping himself in his hand a few times.
he’s bigger than you expected, and your mouth is watering just thinking about how much you want him to be pounding into you already.
“wrap your legs around me princess.” he commands gruffly, and you do just as you’re told, hooking your ankles behind his back.
his dick presses against your heat, and you buck against it to try and feel more. matt is quick to steady your hips roughly, holding you down against the edge of the counter as he teases himself into your entrance.
you both moan, his low and rumbling, yours high-pitched and greedy. you use your thighs to pull him closer, forcing him to drive into you fully so you can feel that pleasurable stretch.
“mmmn—fuck, you’re so tight.” he sighs, giving you another moment before he begins to drag his cock in and out at a steady pace.
you rock with him as best you can, finding the perfect rhythm so that he’s plowing his full length into you, filling the house with the sound of skin slapping skin.
matt lets one hand wrap around your neck again to choke you, tattoos on display as his muscles flex, and the pressure traps your lewd cries in your throat. his other fingers continue to toy with your nipples, which makes you arch off the counter, head rolled back as your eyes screw shut.
“look at you, taking me like such a good girl. just like i knew you would.” he compliments breathlessly.
he starts snapping his hips harder, enjoying the way your tits bounce as you slide slightly against the slick counter. you look so fucking beautiful, mouth partially open, barely able to squeak out a moan.
never in a million years did matt think he’d get the opportunity to fulfill all of his shamefully dirty fantasies about you, but here you are, completely naked and spread out in your own kitchen.
you’re squeezing around him now with every stroke, and he somehow keeps getting deeper, hitting your g-spot in a way that makes you jerk.
the familiar feeling of your abs tightening occurs as you get closer to your orgasm, and you swear you’re seeing stars at this point. he’s right there with you, a groaning mess as your fingers reach up to dig into his bicep.
“yes, matt, right there! m’gonna—” you fumble over your words, unable to finish the thought as the satisfaction builds.
he uses the last of his strength to drill into you, moving both hands back to your waist quickly so he can slam you down on his cock a few more times.
“come all over this dick baby, don’t hold back.”
you’re practically screaming his name as you hit your high, releasing all over him as his hot cum spills into you at the same time.
he slows his movements as you look up at him with bleary eyes, enjoying the last moments of being inside you before he pulls out. you feel your mixed arousal dripping out onto the counter, and you don’t even care that you’ll have to clean it up later.
that was completely worth the mess.
your chest continues to heave as you relish in the come down, dropping your thighs from his hips so he’s free to move around.
but matt stays between them, leaning down to capture your mouth with his one final time. it’s brief, but it means more than either of you truly understand.
he’s the one to break it first, pressing his forehead against yours before he speaks. “you’re incredible, you know that?”
you smile weakly, pushing against his chest to put some distance between the two of you. reality is creeping back in, reminding you that this was probably a one time thing.
“help me down?” you ask, and he complies.
matt lifts you a bit as you slide off the countertop, setting you back on real ground a second later. you’re not sure what to say as you stand before him, completely fucked out and terrified of whatever is coming next.
“so, um…i should probably get cleaned up.” you try to sound casual, even though you’re feeling anything but relaxed.
he immediately notices the switch in tone, the way you’re wrapping your arms around yourself like you’re trying to shrink away and hide. he’s also pretty sure he knows where this insecurity is coming from.
his fingers go to grip your chin gently, demanding that you look him in the face. your eyes widen as he brushes his thumb along your swollen bottom lip.
“i’m cutting things off with maya. i just…love you. and i’m sorry it took me so long.” matt finally admits.
it takes a second to click in your brain, but when it does a wide grin spreads across your face. butterflies erupt in your stomach, and you kiss the pad of his finger as he moves it along your mouth.
“i love you too, but i think you knew that already.” you tease playfully.
“yeah, maybe. but i like hearing you say it out loud.”
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jihyoruri · 3 months
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❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ ❚ COMING DOWN kim chaewon x reader
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↳ warnings wow!yn, slight smoking, chaewon is down bad that’s all, listening to coming down by the weekend fits the vibe wow!kim chaewon x wow!yn i suggest you read my other wow fics before this one they’re in my masterlist <3
the sound of rain and soft music filled the room setting a calming mood for the five girls in the room, like always the found their way in the girls room, it had a way of always setting the mood.
yujin had her face stuck in her phone as she laid in yn’s bed like always, while the other girls camped out on the floor.
rei drew on one of yn’s converse that she found in her room singing softly to the lyrics along with yn who sang along as well as she practically laid on top of the other girls, her head on wonyoung’s lap and her legs resting on jiwon’s thighs.
yn groaned as she stretched out her bedding causing her shirt to rise up revealing her star tattoo on her hip line causing wonyoung to gasp and bring her fingers to the girls lower front on top of the stars.
“when did you get this!?” she asked in shock causing yn to laugh.
“feeling me up like this? I knew you were in love with me.” she teased causing wonyoung to roll her eyes and remove her hands from yn and to the girls hair tugging it slightly.
“ow!”
“I got like a month ago, I brought jiwon with me.” yn says her face pinched up from wonyoung’s tug.
rei looked up from yn’s shoe in offence, “but I’m your tattoo buddy.” she whines.
“sorry dude.” yn said as she leaned up from wonyoung’s lap and leaned forward towards jiwon, “i just love how concerned she gets when it’s finished .” yn says closely to jiwon’s ear causing the other girls face to heat up, “it’s cute.”
wonyoyng rolled her eyes and tugged yn back down into her lap, “you need to lay off the tattoos, you keep giving our managers a heart attack.” she says flicking the girls forehead.
“that’s what I've been saying!” yujin says from the bed, “but you guys make it seem like I’m being this crazy leader.”
“cause you are babe.” yn says opening her mouth to bite wonyoung’s finger causing the girl to shriek.
“that was gross!”
“there’s people in the world that would kill for me to bite their finger, consider yourself lucky.” yn teases wonyoung who can’t help but laugh at the girls comment.
silence fills the room again, only the sound of music and rain being heard before rei speaks again.
“yn are you going again tonight?”
“yeah probably,”
yujin sits up and looks at yn with concern, “going where?”
before yn could respond rei cuts in, “her little hide out.” she giggles, “yn found this abandoned shed looking place and her and her step dad have been working on it for months now, she didn’t tell you?”
“no.” yujin said offended looking down at yn who looked at her unapologetically while playing nudging jiwon with her leg who had most definitely spaced out.
“sorry dude, but you would have definitely stoped me from working on it.” yn shrugs.
yujin mouth drops , “I-I would not!” she looks at wonyoung for help but the girl only sends her a shrug.
“yn’s kinda right,” wonyoung says ignoring yn’s cocky smile, “but hey, it looks pretty cool, there’s like stars everywhere.”
“you’ve been!”
“yeah, we all have.” rei replies.
“I feel so offended right now, what the hell.”
“sorry love,” yn says to the girl, but she didn’t sound sorry, “I’ll take you next time.” she says getting up from the ground and stretching, she smiles at yujin who only glares at her.
“alright, everyone out of my room, I’m heading out.” the girls groan in response, they always loved the vibe of yn’s room, it was comforting and calming.
they all walked out the room while yn grabbed her phone and keys and followed closely behind them and towards the front door.
“be back before midnight!” yujin yells after the girl
“I’ll think about it!”
✮✮
yn loved the calming sensation she felt whenever she was there, she loved the smell of the incense that her little sister and her group member hanni brought for her to put there, she loved the glow in the dark stars that covered the ceiling, she loved the huge star rug that her step dad told her to put on the cold floor,
she just loved how comfy the place was overall, it felt like her, she felt comfortable, she felt happy with the silence that she could wrap herself with when she there, only the sound of music and rain filling her senses.
she blew the smoke out of her mouth as she laid on the gigantic bean bag that yunjin got for her to put in this place, she doesn’t smoke much, only when she’s with aeri but today just felt like the right time to do it, aeri would probably kill yn if she found out she was doing this without her.
the sound of the soothing music almost putting her to sleep but the sound of her phone going off interrupts her peace.
speaking of yunjin.
9:45 pm jenbaby bro chaewon has been on edge😭
9:45 pm jenbaby she’s acc stressing all of us out she needs to get out of here
9:46 pm jenbaby i have great idea 😁 call her pls that will definitely take her mind off of torturing us if ur torturing her
the things I’ll do for you huh yunjin.
yn slides through her contacts and finds chaewon number, she never really called the girl, only when she was helping her out with her performance, which she had a lot of fun doing cause if there was one thing yn loved it was messing with kim chaewon.
the phone rang for a while and on its last ring is when it was answered.
“hello.”
“hey chaewon ,” yn said looking at the glowing stars on the ceiling, she smiled when she could practically hear chaewon freaking out on the other line, “you free?”
“huh?”
“you heard me, let’s hang out, I’ll send you my location if you’re willing to come in the rain.”
“sure!” chaewon responds a bit to quickly causing yn to quietly chuckle.
“okay, I’ll send you the location, don’t leave me waiting.”
“of course not.” yn couldn’t help but smile at how cute the girl sounded, this was the person who was driving yunjin up the walls?
✮✮
it took kim chaewon under 20 minutes to get to yn’s small hide out.
when she saw yn calling her she didn’t know what to expect.
but she definitely didn’t expect yn to invite her to a very sketchy looking shed.
but when yn opened the door, there was nothing sketchy about it, it looked cosy, it looked homey and it looked like yn.
“hey chae,” yn said closing the door while chaewon walked, chaewon couldn’t help my smile at the girl’s nickname.
“hey..” she trailed off taking off the hood of her sweater, “this place is cool.”
“so cool right?” yn said guiding the girl to the area where she was laying down earlier, “so glad I found it.”
“go settled down.” yn said gesturing for the girl to sit on the big bean bag, “I’m gonna get a blanket.”
chaewon hesitantly sat on the overly large bean bag and tried her best to relax, trying her best to ignore that she’s alone with her crush again.
when yn came back she tossed chaewon a large blanket that had black and white stars all over it, before sitting beside the girl on the bean bag.
chaewon tensed at his close yn was to her, smelt amazing, the last time she was this close to yn, was when yn helped her practice for her stage.
just thinking back to that day had her face heating up.
“so…” she trailed off, “how come you invited me and not yunjin or something?”
“a little birdie told me that you need some cooling down and I just knew I was the right person to do it.”
chaewon face heated up in embarrassment, it was true she did need some cooling down.
“wanna talk about it? I’m like the least judgemental person ever.”
chaewon relaxed her body a little and looked down in her lap, “I’ve just been stressed lately, being a leader is hard, you always have to be strong you know.”
yn just hums in response indicating that’s she’s listening.
“and because I’m embarrassed to cry out of stressfulness, I guess I tend to make everyone else stressed as well, it probably drives everyone crazy no wonder they called you.” she laughs embarrassed.
“honestly it’s understandable.”
chaewon snaps her head to look at yn who laid on her back on the bean bag looking up at the glowing stars, “really?”
“hell yeah, I see it with yujin all the time.”
“I can’t believe me and yujin are going through the same thing, that’s so surreal to me.”
“better believe it,” yn says bringing her hands behind her head, “with all that responsibility it’s bound to get you worked up, I honestly find it impressive.”
“really?”
“yeah, I could never be a leader I’m way too unstable for that,” yn jokes(?) making chaewon let out a small chuckle.
“form the stories I hear from wonyoung, yunjin and yujin you do seem pretty unstable.” she laughs.
“and the ladies love it.”
“oh, shut up.”
“just the facts.”
her and yn talked for a while after that, she really was cooling down, she liked how it felt hanging out with yn, it felt right.
“enough about that, im curious about why you found this place?”
chaewon was starting to get comfortable, even laying down just like how yn was, she was just easy to talk to, even though she will always have that nervous feeling in her chest, yn really knows how to calm a person down.
“I’m a person who needs. to be alone sometimes,” yn says turning on her side to look at chaewon who does the same, “there’s only so much of noise I can take,”
“I went on a midnight walk, most of the time I walk with wonyoung but she was in paris, and I came across this place, it caught my attention because it had a spray painted star on it.”
“of course that was the reason.”
“yeah and during that time a lot was on my mind, their always is but more this time and all i could think about was how I would kill for a place to just have to myself so I can be alone for a little.”
“it looks like the universe really was looking out for you.” chaewon said her face heating up in the dark when she saw yn’s smile from the only light source, the glow in the dark stars that light up the dark room.
“it did, and it had a spray painted star on it, like come on it was meant for me, so I called my step dad about it and her immediately agreed to help me with it.”
“you’ve got a pretty cool step dad.” chaewon said amused at how passionate yn sounded talking about this place, it was cute.
“yeah,”
“it’s cute that you and him worked on this together.” chaewon said feeling a bit bold.
“you’re cute.”
chaewon smiled bashfully while yn brushed her bangs out of her face as the faced each other.
“I think you’re pretty cute too.” she didn’t know where this confidence was coming from.
“oh really?”
“yeah.”
the both started at each other and chaewon felt like she was getting dejavu as her eyes flickered to the lips, this felt exactly like how it felt when yn was helping her practice for her stage.
she hasn’t been able to get the feeling off her mind.
and here it is again, but this time she felt like digging further into it.
her leaned her face closer to yn’s, bringing her hand to the side of the girls neck pulling her closer.
yn carefully moved her hand to chaewon’s waist, leaning her face closer as well.
it felt like forever until chaewon gently pushed her lips onto yn’s.
she felt yns free hand wrap around her lower back and pull her up so she’s sitting on yn’s lower waist as she kissed her back.
this was a feeling she had never felt before, it felt amazing.
she knew who yn was, and she knew this wasn’t happily ever after just yet.
but for now she’s just gonna bask in the feeling.
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navybrat817 · 2 years
Text
And Everything Nice
Pairing: Tattoo Artist!Bucky Barnes x Baker!Female Reader Summary: You visit the tattoo parlor when an uninvited guest shows up at the bakery. Word Count: Over 2.8k Warnings: Bad ex, mild (h)arassment, protectiveness, brief moments of insecurity, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). Graphics talent and thanks: Banner by @sgt-seabass. Divider by @firefly-graphics . Bucky edit by Nix. Moodboard by yours truly. A/N: More Hottie and Sugar from our Sin on Skin AU. ❤️ Thank you to @rookthorne for listening to me ramble about this part! Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby (thank you for spitballing), but any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!
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I am going to ask Bucky Barnes out.
After going through the closing checklist, Tess gave you another quick pep talk and said the only thing that would hurt if he turned you down was your pride. Deep down you knew it would hurt more than your pride if he said no, but you didn't say it out loud. She must have sensed it since she added she was certain he'd jump at the chance to date you.
"You got this," she said, giving you a quick hug. "Sorry to run, but-"
"Like I said, I got this," you said, waving her on. Normally you walked out together when you both closed the bakery, but she had somewhere to be. "Have fun!" you added as she rushed out.
Once you finished up a few minutes later, you strode to the door with your keys in hand and a smile on your face. Tomorrow was going to be a good day. You could feel it. And you would look Bucky in the eye with a smile as you asked him-
"Closing all by yourself?"
You weren't sure how you managed to not drop your keys, or not throw a punch, when you spun around and saw your ex in your personal space. You wanted to wipe the smirk off his face when you took a deep breath. "Thanks for sneaking up on me, Richard. Mind backing up a little?"
"Aww, did I scare you?" he asked as you quickly locked the door. "Not even a 'hello'?"
"We haven't talked since we broke up," you reminded him. "But hi and bye."
Richard charmed you in the beginning when you met him, like he did with so many others. Beyond his good looks, he was a confident man. It didn't take long to see that beneath the surface was a spoiled man child who was used to getting what he wanted, or thought he could buy everything. You included.
Breaking up with him was one of the best decisions you made, even if your mom disagreed.
"Where are you going in such a hurry? You should get a drink with me."
"I have plans," you lied, wondering what the hell he was even doing there.
"So? Break them. I want to talk."
The suggestion sounded more like an order and you weren't in the mood.
"I said I have plans. I'm sorry."
"Then why are you still in your work clothes?" he asked, gesturing to your outfit. "And who do you have plans with? Some new guy?"
"Because I'm changing later," you said, staring across the street as a smile spread on your face. "And not that it's any of your business, but yes. He's a tattoo artist."
You weren't sure why you said that. Maybe because you hoped Bucky really would be your guy. And because the thought of him also made you feel safe.
You half expected Richard to laugh as you walked around him, but he put his hand on your arm instead as his face twisted into a scowl. "You're not hanging out with him. You're getting a drink with me."
You wrenched your arm away before he could tighten his grip. "We aren't together anymore. So you don't get to show up out of nowhere and order me around," you said as you went to the curb.
"Don't act like a fucking brat when I'm trying to give you another chance."
I'm the brat?
"Not interested. Have a good night!" you said before you looked both ways and dashed across the street to Bucky's shop.
The entrance was cozier and more open than you expected, the sound of the needles bringing you a strange sense of comfort as you adjusted your bag on your arm. Pictures of various tattoos in different styles lined the red walls above the front desk and leather couches. You wished you had the time to pick out which works belonged to Bucky.
Another day.
"Hi! Welcome to Sin on Skin!" the man behind the desk cheerfully greeted you as he typed on the keyboard. Even sitting down, you could tell the man was built, his muscular arms covered in a variety of tattoos. He may have been intimidating if not for the glasses and warm smile. "Do you have an appointment?"
You glanced over your shoulder and saw your ex making his way across the street. "Sorry, I don't. Is Bucky here? I really need to talk to him."
"Oh, yeah. Just over there. If you want to take a seat, I can-"
"Thank you. I'll be quick," you smiled, hoping Bucky wasn't in the middle of an appointment.
You glanced around at some of the other artists as you walked over to the chairs and noted how exceedingly gorgeous they were. There was one with short dark hair and a beard that looked like he could kill someone with his tattoo gun if they stared for too long. The girl sitting at his station and the man behind him with shocking pink hair and bright smile both brought a ray of warmth to his almost dark aura.
Is it a prerequisite to work in the shop that you have to be good looking? And either look intimidating as hell or incredibly alluring?
You gripped your bag to keep your hand from shaking as you saw Bucky engaged in a quiet conversation with Steve, recognizing him from earlier. You were almost afraid to interrupt. "Hi?"
Both men turned toward you with smiles on their faces as Bucky pushed himself up from his stool. “Hey, Sugar. Couldn’t wait until tomorrow to see me?”
"Something like that," you said.
"Wait. That's Sugar?" the man with the pink hair asked. "No wonder you keep going to the bakery."
"Don't hit on her, Hal," Bucky warned, earning a chuckle from the other man. "Go bother Andy."
"He already is," a deep voice replied.
You would ask later just how much he spoke about you to the other artists. "I'm sorry if I'm interrupting. My ex was waiting for me outside of my shop and I kind of panicked and said I was meeting you and I rushed over here."
"Your ex?" Bucky asked, immediately moving forward to rub your arms in a soothing gesture. "Are you okay?"
"Hi! Welcome to Sin on Skin!" you heard the guy at the desk call out before you could answer.
Instead, you burrowed yourself against Bucky when you heard Richard shout your name. Rock solid and sturdy, his hold kept your nerves from bubbling to the surface. You had nothing to be afraid of.
So why am I shaking?
“You’re kidding me, right? This fucking asshole?” Richard scoffed as you looked over your shoulder at him. He didn't walk any closer, but his voice carried throughout the entire shop. "Like putting a bumper sticker on a piece of shit car, isn't it?"
“Richard, just leave.”
"Does your mom know you're spreading your legs for some tatted up lowlife? Still a disappointment, aren’t you?”
The jab cut deep as much as you wanted to ignore it. He knew that your mom judged every part of you. No matter what you did, it was never good enough.
You wouldn’t focus on that for the time being. "
You do not come into his shop and insult him. Bucky, I'm so sorry."
"Don't apologize for this asshole, Sugar. His opinion of me means less than nothing, trust me," he assured you before he faced your ex. "You, however, are banned from my shop. You can get out now or Jake will call the cops for trespassing. After you apologize to my girl for upsetting her. Your choice, Dick."
Your heart fluttered as you leaned into Bucky more.
His girl. It sounds right.
"Please. I can buy the shop tomorrow just to bulldoze it to the ground," he sneered before he jabbed a finger at you. "And you know what? Keep her. I tried to give her another chance, but she's not worth it. She's a lousy lay anyway."
The insult washed away the momentary good feeling and was the tipping point that brought tears to your eyes. It was humiliating enough that you were the root cause of a scene in Bucky's shop, but the jab in front of his employees and customers brought it to another level. Why did you think hiding in there was a good idea?
Does Bucky think I'm a total loser now?
It was only when you sniffled did you notice the entire shop had gone silent, a dangerous tension in the air when Bucky tightened his arms around you as Steve and Andy slowly got to their feet.
"Hey, why don't you and I go in the back?" the friendly girl at Andy's station suggested. "I think there's some snacks back there, right?"
Andy nodded and gave her the go ahead.
"Bucky," you whispered as you dared to look at him. A tear slid from your eye when you saw the murderous gaze on his handsome face. "I'm-"
Before you could register what was happening, he pulled your face toward his and kissed you. Fierce, yet gentle as he brushed the tear away with his thumb, you let him take the lead. A slow simmer of warmth crept into your cheeks as he parted your lips with his tongue and coaxed yours into his mouth. Your fingers twisted in his shirt as he deepened the kiss and shifted so you were pressed almost completely against him.
If this is how he kisses, he might actually kill me if we ever go further than that.
He breathed into your mouth as he stole the very oxygen from your lungs when he pulled away.
"Go in the back," he told you, his gaze dropping to your lips. Did he want to kiss you again or was it wishful thinking on your part? "I just need to take out the trash, finish up here, and I'll take you home, okay? I won't be long."
It was a feat that you didn't shed more years with how gently he spoke to you.
"Thank you," you whispered, unable to say much more.
"Let's check out that snack collection back there," you heard before you were pulled from Bucky's grasp.
You didn't look back at Richard when the girl tugged you away, but you heard a slight waver in his voice as yelled after you.
That's right. You should be afraid.
"Thank you," you said, wiping your eyes with your hand.
"No need to thank me. One of my good friends just got out of a bad relationship and I'm still a bit in my protective streak," she explained. "Are you okay?"
"I think so."
You tried to remember how Richard acted around other guys when the two of you dated. Had he been the jealous type and you just ignored it? Or did he only cause a scene because you showed him you wanted to move on?
Tess is going to flip when she hears about this.
"Well, whether they just throw him out on his ass or worse, he deserves it for what he said to you," she added before she told you her name. "Everyone calls me Sunny."
"He does," you agreed, introducing yourself as she handed you some water. "Bucky calls me Sugar."
"And you work in the bakery across the street?" she guessed.
"Co-owner," you said, the small talk calming you. "Do you work here or are you a client?" you asked, noticing that she didn't have any tattoos.
"New client. I work in an animal shelter," she smiled. "Grumpy out there is going to give me a sun tattoo."
"That's nice," you smiled back. It seemed fitting with her warm and bright presence. "I really do appreciate you bringing me back here."
It was somehow just as warm and inviting as the entrance, the couch worn and comfortable. You wondered how often Bucky came back here to relax and hang out in-between his appointments. Would he ever bring you back here if you stopped in to see him?
"I figured the amount of testosterone out there could be a bit overwhelming, but are you sure you're okay?"
"Other than being incredibly embarrassed, yeah."
Even though Richard was no longer your boyfriend, he just had to barrel back into your life and leave a mess in his wake.
"He's the one who should be embarrassed," Sunny said, wiggling her eyebrows. "Especially after seeing that kiss."
Your face warmed as you replayed it in your mind. The silver lining for showing up tonight was receiving such a passionate kiss from Bucky. It was difficult not to get swept up in the moment though and you told yourself it was likely just for show. A way for him to stick it to a guy who upset you.
Right?
"It was a really good kiss," you smiled.
"Oh, we all felt the heat. Trust me."
Both of you giggled until there was a soft knock on the door frame.
"Hey, Sugar. Trash is out on the curb," Bucky winked. "You ready to go home?"
Your heart fluttered as you smiled back. "Yeah, I'm ready."
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You didn't live far away, but Bucky still insisted on taking you home. He even took you out the back way so you didn't have to see anyone. While he didn't specify exactly what happened with Richard, he assured you he wouldn't poke around either of your shops again. It made the drive home more pleasant knowing he looked out for you.
So much that you almost took his hand when he stopped outside of your place.
Almost.
"Thank you for everything," you said. "I'm really sorry about tonight."
"You have nothing to be sorry for. Not the first time we've dealt with assholes in the shop. Steve and I don't like bullies."
"I still feel bad," you said, wishing the feeling would go away.
"Please, don't," he whispered.
Your fingers twisted in your lap before you took a deep breath. "When you came into the bakery earlier today, I was going to ask you out," you told him, but refused to look at him. "But after that, it's probably a dumb idea. You shouldn't have to deal with that kind of trouble."
Maybe there's a better girl out there for you.
"You think one asshole ex is trouble?" he asked, leaning over to grasp your chin so you'd face him, goosebumps rising on your arms from his touch. "I can handle that."
"But what he said in your shop-"
"He did that to bring you down because he's an asshole. Guys like that don't want to see girls thrive without them."
You scoffed and mumbled, "I wonder what you'd think of my mom.
"I'm not afraid to stand up to anyone who tries to hurt you," he said, keeping a hold of your chin with a tender grip as your chest tightened. "You said you were gonna me ask out. Don't change your mind because of them."
"So, you really want to go on a date with me?" you asked.
"If I say 'yes', do I get to kiss you again?" he replied, running his thumb along your lower lip.
You were torn between sucking his thumb into your mouth or sinking into your seat. "Maybe we should get an actual date under our belts first. You only kissed me to prove a point or something."
Even if it felt like heaven.
"Or maybe I've been wanting to kiss you since I walked into your bakery and I want to kiss you again," he said, sliding his hand around to the back of your neck with ease. "Proving a point was an added bonus."
You looked at him wide eyed and subconsciously touched your lips. "Wait, you want to kiss me just because I asked you on a date?"
"I can give you a whole list of reasons," he said, his gaze flickering between your lips and your eyes. "And I'd love to go out with you. Friday night, Sugar?"
"It's a date, Hottie," you smiled when he leaned in.
But he didn't kiss your lips.
He brushed a kiss to your forehead, which somehow seemed more intimate.
"You had a rough evening. The next time I kiss you, I want it to because it's the right moment, just for the two of us," he explained when you furrowed your brows. "My girl deserves that."
A soft smile played at your lips as something warm welled up in your chest. He could have easily taken advantage of how vulnerable you felt by stealing another kiss, but he didn't. Even though you were into each other.
Going to see Bucky tonight was the right choice.
And you couldn't wait for your date.
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Love them. Love the whole gang. Except Richard. Fuck that guy. And where are they going on that date? Check out What Dreams Are Made Of to see how Bucky is feeling. Love and thanks for reading! 💙
Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi
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goldenstring6123 · 2 months
Note
helloooo! i’d like to request a short fic with this glorious prompt i thought about last night 🤭
let’s say reader gets a tattoo of xavier’s sword (like the design behind his latest promise outfit) all the way down their back ;) i would die to see how he would react to this nyehehehe
it can be either fluff, suggestive, smut, up to you with whatever you’re comfy with <3 tysm hehe
Xavier: Ink & sword
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Warning: Very suggestive! 16+ only, showering together, nudity, kissing, sensual touching, fem!reader, reader is not the mc but works as a hunter
Author's note: :>
MASTER LIST | Buy me a thread?
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"I'm sorry—I knocked you back too hard," Xavier's hand reached down towards yours, and you, on the other hand, were buried underneath some plastic crates at the corner of the training room. He waited for you to take his hand. "Are you alright?"
You took his hand and used him to hoist yourself back to your feet, a tinge of pain and ache flowering from different parts of your back. You dropped the sword that you were holding, and it immediately dissipated into thin air. You looked at Xavier and patted his chest, trying to ease out that slight frown on his face.
"I'm alright. We deal with worse stuff on the battlefield."
Right above the entrance, a big digital clock projected the time in neon blue colors: 23:03. You and Xavier had been training for over three hours, and now the training grounds had been rid of people except for the two of you. Well, it couldn't be helped; Xavier's training regimen requires more time to perform, considering the complexity of his fighting style and condition.
Still, the fact that you can keep up is very noteworthy even in the eyes of others, though the only thing you were doing was defending and keeping your stance. The only worrying thing is that sometimes, Xavier forgets that you're just a normal hunter and tends to exert a bit more force when sparring.
You let out a small groan while you moved towards the shower room, and Xavier was walking right beside you, ready to reach out in case you toppled over. The frown was still on his face as if he regretted showing you that magnificent finishing blow. "Do you need help?"
You glanced at the shower room and hooked your index finger under his chin, turning his head slightly, the cheeky little teasing mood suddenly erupting from within you. "Are you offering to help me bathe? How daring of you."
"Uh...I didn't—" Xavier's doe eyes went wider than the moon, his nose and ears turning pink upon realizing your words.
You just loved finding the opportunity to fluster this little man.
Unbeknownst to Xavier, you knew how he has a little ongoing crush on you—credits to Tara for having that habit of snitching when drunk. And for a strong fighter, it feeds your ego to have him wrapped around your fingers.
"Can you just hand me the menthol patches in the kit?" you pointed at a small box nearby, one attached to the metal post. It was a first aid kit reserved for them. Xavier strode to the said post while you entered the washroom.
You opened your locker with your thumbprint and undid the brown leather support. Swiftly, you unbuttoned your blouse, picked at how it clung to your body, damp and riddled with dust and sweat. Finally, the stuffy bathroom air brushed against your sweat-ridden back.
"I got the patches..." Xavier entered the bathroom, the white menthol patches in his grasp. When he lifted his head to look at you, his eyes trailed from the curve of your form—eyes landing on the intricate tapestry of dark blue and white ink tattoo carved onto your back.
The shame of walking in on you naked disappeared in an instant.
You stared as Xavier slowly stepped beyond the room's threshold. You kept your blouse pressed against your chest, and even if you were nearly topless, Xavier's eyes never broke contact from your back. Why would he? The image of his very own sword was on your back.
"Is this why you wanted to take a picture of my sword?" His cold fingers slid down the dip of your spine, his eyes absorbing every bit of nitty-gritty detail about the tattoo. As much as he admires his real pristine sword, the image of it on your back is simply...breathtaking.
"Maybe? Do you like it?" You kept still, facing the locker. At that moment, every touch he made on your body was amplified beyond normal. The coolness of his fingers felt good against your warm back.
"It's beautiful," he uttered. The thin saber was positioned perfectly downwards to your spine, ending just above where your pants began, curving whenever you moved. The handle was positioned just between your shoulder blades. Feathers littered the rest of the space, some in blue and some in white. The intricate carvings on the side of his sword were perfectly captured. "Why did you choose my sword?"
"Well," your hand chucked the blouse in the locker. You glanced over your shoulder, the silver-haired man anticipating your answer. "It's because it was beautiful; I can't get my mind off of it." It just so happens that the man wielding it is beautiful as well. A beauty beyond the stars.
You turned back to face the locker, folding your blouse, thinking that Xavier had had enough of seeing the tattoo. Your lips opened, prepared to ask him to leave as you were nearly topless, if not for that low-back bra you're wearing, but before you could blurt a single word, Xavier pressed his lips on your shoulders.
It was as if his kiss had flicked a switch within you. You stiffened, leaning over while your hands hung at the edge of the locker. "Xavier? Did you just—"
The man placed another kiss lower. You could feel his tongue graze the surface of your skin. "Mhm, your skin is salty."
His words sobered you up; it wasn't exactly an insult, but that made you think. You stood up straight and faced him, your eyes coated with a sheen of lust and desperation. "I'm full of sweat. Do you really intend on having..." You held yourself back from spouting such vulgar words. "Never mind. Wait for me. I'm going to take a shower."
You took the towel and ran to the shower areas. It was dead silent. You pondered. Was Xavier really doing what you think he was going to do? Did the sword on your back push him to the edge?
All the thoughts crept at the back of your neck, but the softness of Xavier's lips remained. The hot water drizzled all over your body, releasing you from the stickiness of the fluids. You combed back your hair and looked up at the shower head, relishing the comfort of the rain-like sensation—for a few seconds at least.
The shower curtain shifted, and Xavier took a step in. His bare chest pressed against your back, and you spun quickly at the contact. Your eyes widened at the sight of his bare body—it's not the first time you saw it, but still—"Why are you here?"
"Let's take a shower together. Turn around, I'll wash your back."
"Do all training partners do this? Bathe together? Is this new?" You panicked, instinctively covering your areas while backing up against the cold porcelain wall. You stared up at him, the soft eyes no longer there. He looked intimidating now that he was towering over you.
"Do training partners sleep with each other when they get stuck in the mountains?" he uttered.
At that moment, the hazy memory of that stormy night flashed inside your head—the warmth of his touch, the flickering of the makeshift fireplace, his skin against yours, and his mouth exploring your body. Your face began to grow red at that memory.
Xavier's hands crawled to your hips, gently nudging you to turn. You didn't want to go against him, and at the same time, you were expecting something to happen because you would admit that Xavier was good. He felt good. His taste, his skill, and his size—what you didn't expect was that it wasn't going to be a one-time thing.
His hands were gliding on your back, and his burning stare trailed down to your ass. You bit your lip at the embarrassment. His hands, which were on your waist, found themselves holding on to your love handles, and gently, Xavier pulled your hips backward, coming into contact with his semi-hard-on.
"Shit," you uttered under your breath. Even if it wasn't fully hard, you could still clearly feel it. A million thoughts raced through your head, but there was one emotion that was prevalent: Erotic desire.
Xavier's lips came into contact with your back again, but this time, you couldn't help but flinch at every contact because his tongue and teeth grazed and gritted, intentionally leaving marks at Xavier's whims. Just by that, you were gasping for air, anticipating where he would bite next.
His fingernails scraped at your skin, tracing every curve and line of the tattoo; his touch was electrifying, but you craved more. How can he be so gentle but leave you feeling unexplainable things?
He peppered your back with light kisses from the dip of your back slowly, slowly crawling back up to your exposed nape. "Don't leave marks on my neck," you uttered between breaths. A loud pop of Xavier's kiss bounced off the shower room.
"Turn around, please. I want to see you," Xavier whispered. You looked over your shoulder, and you could see him stepping back a little bit, eager to see your body.
You swallowed the lump in your throat and turned to him, still covering your body. Admittedly, he was a little perplexed at seeing you acting all shy when it was you who was provoking him earlier, but poking fun at you wasn't right for the moment.
He brushed a stray hair that stuck onto your cheek and smiled, looking into your eyes fondly. "There's no need to hide," he said, taking a step closer. "You're beautiful."
His big hands caressed your elbows and slid up to your biceps, nudging you to loosen up. Your hands dropped from your body, but instead of letting them fall completely, you wrapped your hands around his neck.
You pressed your lips together, but all of a sudden, footsteps erupted.
"Is anyone in here?" the lady guard called. "Security!"
You covered Xavier's mouth and stared into his eyes, saying: 'Don't make a sound.'
"Oh, yes! I just finished training!" you yelled back.
"Alright, but please leave after 5 minutes. We're about to turn down the power for the entire floor."
"Sure! I'll be out in a minute," you replied. You and Xavier waited for a solid minute before moving. You let go of the breath you were holding, took the bar of soap from the holder, and gave it to Xavier. "Let's continue that at your apartment when we get home."
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Author footnotes: Cockblocked by me, the author. Layout by me, using canva premium | Do not repost |
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surrealsunday · 2 years
Note
I LOVED MOOD TATTOO!!
I have an exam this weekend so I'm saving the last two chapters for after that but I could not help it and made another playlist for Mood Tattoo (watch me make a playlist for all of your fics lmaooo)
Check it out should you be interested! https://open.spotify.com/playlist/0hf8FBvYKpKoVkd7QKioUw?si=3886adaf8ba04d2e
(if you have a suggestion for a better cover that would be great just because it's a placeholder rn)
This fic was everything. The tension was EXCELLENTLY written, superb superb love scenes, and just loved how everyone around them was just so supportive and knew it was going to happen because they'd been eye-fucking since day one lmao
Also the social media edits were extremely high quality?? Like part of me hopes you are earning something from this because it's just so so so good. Part of me was like is that really an edit or has Axel just been hiding that tattoo this whole time
(my favorite one was the clip of him barking at the dog like? a lot of it sounded like an actual dog like wtf axel)
Idriss and Manon being together is also just so cute like this is the first time I shipped a non-canon straight ship this hard lmao also his friendship with Eliott is just so adorable I love how supportive they are of each other it's just everything to me ahh
I am definitely giving this a re-read after I re-read 10 things; you are just one of the most talented fic writers I've encountered, the flow is just so fun to read, and it keeps me at the edge of my seat
Stay fabulous!
AHHHHHH YAYYYYY!!!!! I was so excited to hear about your reaction! I haven't had a chance to catch up with ao3 so I'm super happy you messaged here!
And another playlist??!!! YOU ARE SPOILING ME AND I LOVE IT!
Mood Tattoo Playlist
I'm going to listen to that tomorrow when I finally have a day off! Mood Tattoo has so much social media and it's all saved in different files so I can't even begin to think about what might make the best cover image aldkfjadf. But this is the pic that was used for every chapter banner:
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Also seeing that ^ pic just made me so nostalgic for that story 🥹.
The tension in Mood Tattoo was truly the thing I had to get right. Doing a hate-love kind of story just requires sizzling tension or the rest doesn't work. So glad it came across!
And yesssss the social media was my fave. Particularly tattooed Lucas!!! I'm not amazing at photoshop tbh but I have improved through the fics I've written and in the tackling of the social media. So I would definitely say there are a couple of the tattoo edits of Lucas that remain my absolute crowning achievements in fic social media edits. (Also if Axel got a tattoo sleeve RIP me... he would look so damn good).
Idriss and Manon!!! I seriously have written them so much now they have become canon in my head (and honestly it would have made a better story if they had been). Their story started in my Hollow Edge story and then I made myself so attached to them that I have to include them in each story, even if it's just a hint of them 😂. Like, beyond the fact that I enjoy writing their characters together, just the idea of the aesthetics of them together???? Yes. Yes, that would work well. And Idriss and Eliott's friendship is much the same. I legit forget that we were ROBBED of that in the show because I've written their friendship so extensively in so many stories. But I just adore them and I adore writing their friendship. I put Idriss through it in some ridiculous ways in my stories (poor guy 😂) but it's only because I love him so much!
Your comments are just so kind and the most satisfying thing to read as a writer. I really did squeal reading this so THANK YOU SO MUCH!!! It's so fun to get to chat with someone new to the fandom and new to my fics because (as insane as it sounds to me) I've been writing them for years now. So it's like reliving the experience of writing and posting when I originally did and it's so much fun! In conclusion, you are the best 😌😂❤️. I'm really glad to connect and I hope you enjoyed the final two chapters (also... I don't know if the exam is this weekend or it was last weekend but I hope it goes/ went really well!!!).
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anemptypuddingcup · 6 months
Text
Tricking you.
Trafalgar Law x Female Reader.
April Fools’ Smut Fic.
I never gave detail on how I depict Trafalgar but I see him with tanned skin and with vitiligo from the lead disease he had. (I’m not that far but I know he had that disease. I hope I’m right on this- I head-canon that he had permanent skin changes from it- hence the vitiligo).
Tbh- I also headcanon that when Law switches people’s souls, that person gains the body’s common habits.
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Contains: GUYS- IT’S SOMETHING DIFFERENT- Misuse of devil fruit in the very beginning. Reader and Law soul swapped. Reader is in Law’s body. Law is in Reader’s body (They obviously still have their original voices). Law and Reader experiening each others body habits. (Like how Reader loves sucking Law off and Law enjoys filling Reader up.) Law is still the dom (sorta-) even if he’s in your body. Reader’s doing all the fucking. Oral. (Reader receiving in Law’s body.) Leg Glider to Missionary. Ik it gets confusing at some points but beat with me alright? It’s something different. I must I’ve been in a mood or sum bc GODDAMN-
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“Room.”
“Shambles.”
You groan out lowly and open your eyes, your eyesight extremely different than it was before. You tried to roll over onto your side but you feel something restricting your movement- something tight around your both your wrists and ankles.
You groan out irritably but the sound of your voice suddenly causes you to freeze.
Your voice wasn’t yours.
And your body wasn’t yours.
Peering down at your body with wide eyes, you notice a male physique with tanned skin and vitiligo alongside significant tattoos that were vividly familiar in your eyes.
“Finally you’re awake, I thought I was gonna be alone tonight…” Your head shoots up at the sound of your voice fading into the bedroom. You look over in the direction you hear your voice and you eyes widens as you see your body walking towards you. “Wh-What?” You say, a bit shocked to see your naked body standing before your eyes without looking into a mirror.
“Aww, still a little sleepy?” She asked you, tilting her head to you while you sat there in genuine confusion and shock. “How in hell…” You asked yourself quietly, staring into your own eyes while she walks over to the bed. Her hand cups you face, feeling along your facial features and staring into…someone else’s eyes while you stared back into your own.
“I swapped our bodies, wasn’t that obvious baby girl? It’s me, Law.” He snickered, slowly climbing onto the bed and softly placing his body onto yours. “Traffy!? So- Fuck, you goddamn fool.” You groaned out before chuckling, throwing your head back in relief as you finally understood what was going on. Law giggles to himself before full on laughing, happy that his little trick had gotten you all shaken up.
“Funny April fools prank isn’t it? I’ve never done it with you so of course it startled you.” Law continued chuckling, his hand combing through your hair while you gave him a little pout in response. “I thought I was kidnapped and formed into something else, don’t scare me like that…” You pouted to him, your eyes trailing down your body you were in as you admired Law’s physique which happened to be yours.
Law unties your wrists and ankles and you look down at your hands which were now larger than Law’s himself. You look down at Law who smiles up at you before pushing you down onto the pillows.
“Well, I wanted to try somethin’ different. I’m sure you’re fine with it too since you’ve been wondering what it would be like in my body~” Law says, his hands sliding up and feeling along his body he was in while he lets out a shaky little gasp.
You watched as he groped his breasts and mewled out at the sensation of his fingertips against the soft mounds before he bit his lip seductively. His hips softly grinds his bare pussy against your bulge within your briefs, a heavy gasp leaving your lip as you unconsciously begin to grind your hips up against him. He could already feel you growing hard within your briefs which makes him reach his hand out and grab the hem of your briefs.
He slowly pulls them off and you gasp out shakily as you watched your cock pop up and out into the air. “I know you wanna try something different anyway, so let’s just enjoy it while it lasts, okay?~” Law whispers to you, his body slowly lying down onto his tummy while he stared down at your cock. You nodded softly to him and bit your lip, a little nervous yet excited to try something different with Law.
Law looks up into your eyes and chuckles mischievously, his hand reaching out to your length and grabbing your shaft a bit tightly. The sudden touch makes you moan out before you shuddered against him, your handing moving up to your mouth out of shyness and slight nervousness.
“Don’t be shy ________-Ya. For now, I own your body and you own mine. I want you to do whatever comes out on impulse. Pull on my hair, grab my hips…do whatever you want to do.” He says to you, trying to give you a bit more confidence on being in his body. You sigh out and nodded to him, staring down into his eyes while you watched him press his lips to your tip.
You mewl out as you watched him lick a stripe up your shaft, a groan leaving him as wraps his lips around your length before bobbing his head. You let out little moans and groans of ecstasy as you watched him suck your cock, his hands reaching up and grabbing your hips while you pressed your hand to his head.
He gags a bit and a few tears begin running down his face as he continued to try and take your cock deep down his throat. You hiss out and throw your head back before groaning out shakily, your eyes already rolling up as you enjoyed his mouth taking in your cock. He begins bobbing his head up and down a bit more, a few moans occasionally leaving him as he sucked your cock so diligently.
“Ah~ Oh fuck~ T-Traffy~” You gasp out, your fingers combing through his longer and pretty strands as your cock began to twitch against his tongue. He hums out and smiles to you as he felt your cock twitching in his mouth, his hands fondling and playing with your balls while he slowly removed his lips to speak with a little pop.
“You’re gonna cum aren’t you?~ Cmon then~ Paint my tongue with your jizz~” He hisses out to you, his tongue flicking and sliding along your sensitive tip. You mewl out as begin bucking your hips a bit, your voice growing loud while you felt yourself getting hot and bothered.
“I-I’m going to~ P-Please keep sucking my cock like that Traffy~” You whined to him, your begging making him giggle a bit. “I didn’t think I’d picture myself saying that…” He laughed, his hand beginning to stroke your shaft while he wrapped his lips back around your length. You whine and gasped out to him shakily as you felt your cock yearning to burst, your balls tightening within one of Law’s hands
“Cumming!- C-Cumming!~ Fuck! M’cumming!~” You grit you teeth and your eyes rolled up to the back of your skull as you grip Law’s strands tightly, yanking him farther onto your shaft and making him gag suddenly from taking to much of your length dow his throat. His eyes widens and waters as you cum down his throat so quickly yet easily, the salty and slightly bitter taste enveloping his tongue and throat.
His groans melted into moans as he drinks and gulps down your seed, your flavor overpowering his tongue while his body shudders from the flavor. He groans out shakily as his brows furled tightly, his eyes rolling up as his orgasm hits him hard like a brick. His pussy gushes while his nails clawed at your hips, his throat tightening and still swallowing around your length while you whined out in sweetened pleasure.
“God~ Fuck, I came so much~” You whined out, your body still trembling while you slowly pulled Law’s mouth from your length. He gasps out and inhales deeply before coughing just a bit, his eyes looking up into yours before he smiles up at you. You could see just a little bit of seed spilling past his lips and you chuckled a bit.
“Sorry Traffy…” You apologized to him, your hand combing through his strand while you rubbed his head. He mewls out and sticks out his tongue to you, showing that he had swallowed everything to you which makes you smile. “Ooh~ Good boy~ You swallowed up all of my cum deep down your throat~” You mewled to him, patting your thighs and motioning for him to get up into your lap.
He obeys and crawls onto your lap, his cunt soaking and drenched with his own cum and slick as he sat there on your bare thigh. “Is this how your body always feels when I’m cumming down your throat? I enjoyed that way too much than I was supposed to…” Law asked you, peppering a smooch to your lips before he looked deep into your eyes.
You blushed and nodded in response to his question, your eyes looking away from him out of slight embarrassment. “It always feels so good when you cum down my throat~ I’m guessing you enjoyed it too?” You asked him, a little snicker falling after. “Yeah…I did, I love fucking your throat but you’re too sweet to be that mean huh?” He teased you, his hand playing with the scruff beneath your chin while his other hand traced at your tattoos.
“W-Well…I don’t want my throat being sore in the morning when we switch back.” You huffed, crossing your arms while Law spreads his legs open to you. Law lies back onto the bed and into his side before he wiggles his hips a bit, urging you to come and get a good grab on him and his hips. “Well? Come on! I wanna see how this feel~ I wanna know how your body feels when you’re getting fucked by my cock.” He says, smiling to you while you stared down at him.
You chuckle nervously and gulped before scooting closer to him and getting down onto your knees. Your thumbs spreads his pussy open and a mewl leaves him while he watched you stare down at your own pussy. “I’ve never seen it from this angle…” You whisper to yourself, your fingers toying at his clit while you observed his slit from this different angle. Law shudders and huffs out heavily, his tongue trailing across his lips while he watched you play with his pussy and thighs.
“O-Oi! Eyes up here, quit starin’ and ogling your own pussy and fuck it already!” Law snapped at you before groaning out impatiently, his tone making you giggle at his desperation. “If you wanna know how my pussy feels then I’ll show you~” You drool out onto his slit and rub the natural lubricant out into his pussy before pressing your tip up against his entrance.
He stared down and mewls out softly while he watched you lift one of his legs into you shoulder. Your tip kissed his entrance and you slowly begin to slide into his cunt, a slightly pain groan leaving him as you did. You hiss and moan out shakily, enjoying the feeling of his velvety walls sucking your cock in.
“H-Holy fuck~ Y-Your dick is s-so fuckin’ big~” Law mewls out, his hands gripping the quilt beneath both of your bodies. “Ah~ Y-You mean your dick T-Traffy~ T-That’s how I feel every time you enter me~” You explained, your moans all light as you continued to slowly thrust into him.
Your grip on his leg tightens and you thrusted yourself deep inside of his cunt, a loud moan spilling out of his lips as a groan spilled from yours. “B-Big~ S-So big!~” He groans out to you. You huff out and thrust hard into his cunt making him moan out suddenly and shakily as he felt you bottom out inside of him without warning.
“F-Fuck! Oh fuck!~ S-So deep~” He moans loudly, his body trembling beneath you while he shut his eyes tightly. You begin thrusting into him rather fast, his pussy producing squelching noises and sucking your cock in rather deep. “Fuck~ Your pussy feels so fucking good~ I love how warm and sticky it is inside~” You huff out shakily, a whine spilling out past your lips as your thrusts began to grow sloppy and unrhythmic.
Law couldn’t help but to moan out and melt beneath your body, his hands clawing at the quilt while his face scrunches up with ecstasy. “Ohh fuck~ Your dick is so fuckin’ deep inside of my pussy~ Your cock is grinding against my g-spot so good~ I-I see how y-you feel now!~” Law mewls out, his eyes staring into yours while you huff out heavily to him.
Your body pushes up against his and your knees dig deep into the mattress while the bed begins to rock heavily and frantically from your haphazard thrusts. Law didn’t mind it at all, even if your thrusts were rather uneven and sloppy, he still enjoyed the feeling of your cock sliding in and out of his cunt and kissing his g-spot.
It was a rather different yet sensational feeling.
“I-I didn’t know my pussy felt this good to you~” You mewl out shakily, your arms wrapping around his body while your nails begins to scratch at his back.
“Ah~ O-Of course it does, I-I didn’t expect my cock to do this much damage to your cunt~ Yet here we are…and it feels so fucking good~” Law hums our, wrapping his arms and legs around your body while gasping out to you.
Your hands held on tight to Law’s hips as you thrust into his cunt just a bit faster, a gasp leaving you as you felt your cock twitching within Law’s warmth. His pussy sucked you in deep, pulling you in and not wanting to let go of you. You groaned out as your brows furled, your thrusts growing a bit sloppier as you struggled to stay in sync as if you already were beforehand.
“Fuck~ T-Traffy I-I’m c-close again~” You whimpered to him, biting your bottom lip as your nails clawed at his hips. Law mewls out before pressing his lips against yours, giving you a sloppy yet deep and needy kiss. “Cum baby~ Fill up my fucking pussy~” Law hisses, his arms pulling you closer to him while his pussy tightens and clings around your shaft.
You gasp out and shut your eyes, your breathes deep and heavy as you finally feel yourself ready to release. “Oh god~ Fuck! Fuck Traffy!~” You hold on tight to his body as you trembled against him, your cock releasing your seed deep inside of his pussy. Law moans out rather loud and angelically as his body shudders hard against yours before he squirts and gushes out around your length.
“Ooooh fuck~ Oh fuck~” Law moans out shakily, his hands trembling against your shoulders as he presses his lips against yours once again. You hum out and kissed him lovingly before pulling away, a laugh falling after as you stared into his teary eyes.
“Are you okay Traffy?” You asked him, your hand playing at his soft skin while he lied there breathing heavily. “Y-Yeah…I’m fine. Fuck why did that feel so good…? Y-Your orgasms are so fucking amazing…” He heaved out shakily to you, his arms wrapping around you as he grew indecisive with his decision or rather- fought with your body’s habit of holding on to him.
“I felt good too Traffy…I’m just assuming that you can handle yours better than mine?” You asked, staring at him and rubbing against your skin. “I-I can’t always handle them but fuck your body had to have been pent up or something.” Law sighs out, lying down and cuddling up against you.
You pulled him close and groaned out, your hand reaching out waffling with his. “Um…Traffy?” You called out to him, quirking a brow to him and watching as he turned over his shoulder to look at you. “Hmm? What is it?” He asked, rolling over to face you before cracking a smile. You cleared your throat before groping at one of his breasts, causing him to mewl out suddenly.
“How’re we supposed to change back you idiot?” You asked him, pouting to him. He sighs out before curling up into your embrace. “I’ll tell you in the morning…I’m sleepy baby…” He sighs out sleepily, relaxing against your body. You sighed out before giving him a final goodnight kiss before you slowly lied back and closed your eyes.
☆☆☆.
You groan out as your eyes slowly opening, the sight of your body before you making you smirk a bit before you slowly sit up. You hiss out suddenly as you felt arousal near your crotch and you look down to see your cock perked up and hard. You groan out suddenly and turn over to Law, pressing your hand against his soft shoulder before softly shaking him.
“Traffy…Traffy!”
“Hmm? Mmgh…What?” He calls out to you groggily, his eyes slowly opening to peek at you who was still in his body from the last night.
“I-I’m hard- W-What am I supposed to do?” You asked him, a bit of a worried tone singed deep into your voice. Law slowly sits up before sighing out, his eyes trailing down to your hard cock before he sighs out and crawls down in between your legs.
You stared down at him as your face grew a deep shade of red, a heavy sigh leaving you as you watched him begin to jerk your cock. He peppers a kiss to your tip which makes you gasp out before you cover your mouth, your face scrunching up from the sudden pleasure and increase in body temperature.
“Let’s go at it one more time before I teach you how to switch back~ I wanna feel your dick in my pussy again~”
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feraltragedy · 1 month
Text
Ok, here it is, my very first fic! Sorry if it's absolute dog water. Bad sense of humor and a Foy Vance quote ahead.
Unholy Throne
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Pairing: Noah Sebastian x reader
CW: language, smut, oral m&f receiving, p in v, unprotected sex, adult themes, mild(?) Drug use (weed), mild injury (no blood or gore)
I think that's about it for warnings. 18+ MDNI
You had been friends with the boys for a few years now. Your friendship with Noah being unusually close, but nobody seems to bat an eye at the snuggling and occasional innocent flirting. It was commonplace for you to sit on his lap and even share a bed, but the closeness and flirting was only when it was the two of you or just the other boys around, never in public or around outsiders. You saw Noah as something more, you wanted more. But there's no way he sees you more than his feral little bestfriend. Right?
Bad Omens is on hiatus and you're taking a bit off from work to spend time with them. Today, it’s hanging out at their house with a few friends. You sport a cute black pleated skirt that falls mid thigh with a light baggy sweater that is honestly too loose as it keeps slipping off of one shoulder or the other. Not your usual go-to but youre feeling sassy, and everyone can tell with your spicy attitude. The blunt being passed around earlier only adding fuel to that fire.
Everyone is in the backyard already except for Folio, who needs a sandwich before he wastes away to nothing. You're standing leaned against the counter after making your drink, watching Noah rummage through the fridge for the third time in the last thirty minutes. He seems a bit antsy today. He has asked you twice now if you want to change into one of his hoodies, as if it's tedious to him that you keep pulling it back up on your shoulders.
You pull the sweater again just as Noah is closing the fridge and he sees out of the corner of his eye.
“Go upstairs and change into my hoodie.”
“I'm good, thank you though.”
“I wasn't asking, Y/N, go change.”
His firm tone caught you a little off guard, and he's sporting that scolding look on his face. Your sassy mood has flipped to bratty before you even realize it. Normally,you would never defy him and “no” wasn't even in your vocabulary.
“No.”
The kitchen fell eerily silent. Folio’s sandwich crafting came to a halt and you can see him in the corner of your eye looking like a timid cat. But your eyes never left Noahs and his never left yours. He subtly tilted his head, now narrowing his eyes in disbelief, and slowly steps towards you like a predator hunting prey. It's intimidating, but you maintain your bratty facade despite feeling like a cornered rabbit in front of a wolf.
“What was that? I don't think I heard you correctly.”
He was standing directly in front of you now, so close you can feel his breath fan across your face with each angry exhale.
“No.”
The tension is palpable. Folio has abandoned his perfect sandwich and is slipping out the back door. Noah's focus is trained on you. There's a glint in his eye but you can't quite decipher it. In his silence you speak again.
“I said no. What are you gonna do about it big boy, hmm? You gonna spank me…, daddy?”
Maybe it's just the weed, or maybe it's the way he's looking at you, but youre feeling taller than the trees right now. The way his eyes darkened at the new nickname did not go unnoticed by you. He's fully pressed against you now,your backside pressed to the counter. Fighting the urge to slide your leg up to his hip is almost a losing battle. You realize you are way in over your head and try to look anywhere but at the god before you. A tattooed hand comes up to rest on your neck, thumb and pointer finger gripping your chin to force you to keep your eyes on him.
“Real fucking bold, princess. Sweet thing has been bratty all day, now you wanna act shy.”
You bite your tongue to stifle a whimper. You're about to break right here in this kitchen while all your friends are right outside. Noah is just about to speak again when Matt swings the back door open. He comes in and grabs Folios' forgotten sandwich for him, you guess he had told Matt he was too afraid to retrieve it himself.
“You guys gonna join us outside or what?”
“Y-yeah sure, of course.” You stammer out as you manage to squeeze out of Noah’s grip and hurry to the door without looking back.
You see everyone sitting around the table carrying on a conversation and try to calm yourself as you approach to join them. Another blunt is being passed around and you are instantly relieved, no way you make it another second with your fast fading buzz. You take a hit and think to yourself that's why you were just in the previous situation, but now the dominos have already begun and you won't make it through the evening stone cold sober.
Noah hasn't given you a second look since he came outside just after you did. Maybe he doesn't feel the same and you're just reading it all wrong. Maybe it was a hallucination. Ruffilo taps your foot lightly with his to get your attention.
“You good? You looked a little far away there for a second.”
“I’m good, just trying to put off going to the bathroom. The weed makes my legs feel funny. I’m gonna go now though” you give a little laugh and head inside.
Your underwear is still a little wet from your book-tok moment with Noah so you just slide them off from under your skirt and toss them in the hamper. Your dirty clothes are in there anyways since you spent the last two nights there. The high hits real good just as you leave the bathroom. The memory of earlier fuzzy and at the back of your mind. As you make it back outside, its practically completely forgotten.
Jesse must have got here while you were upstairs, and is now sitting where you were before you got up. No big deal, you can just sit on Noah’s lap and steal someone else's seat whenever they get up. But as you go to lower yourself, a big hand is on your butt, pushing you back up. Confused, you turn to look at Noah as he looks at you with a hint of mischief on his face, so subtle you almost missed it.
“No.” Noah spoke plainly.
“What?”
“No.” A smirk played on his pretty lips this time and the memory is coming back to you. He's getting back at you for saying no.
If you could feel your face you're certain you would feel the blush that had to be creeping up at the memory. Hopefully the dim light from the nightfall will hide it from everyone else. You don't have to dwell on it too much longer as Folio is apparently starving despite that big ass sandwich he ate.
“Let’s go to the pizza buffet!”
The munchies must have its tendrils in everyone because the agreement is unanimous. You didn't even consider the amount of people versus the amount of seats in the van until Matt spoke up as everyone was getting ready to load up.
“We are one more person than there are seats. Y/N, you will have to sit in Noah’s lap.”
You're suddenly very aware of your choice to forgo underwear beneath your skirt. Your sweater slips down your shoulder and Noah audibly huffs as you pull it back up.
“Folio can sit on Jesse or Jolly! Just because I'm the shortest one here doesn't mean I have to be the one with a human for a booster seat every time there's too many people!”
Matt is over it and just got in the driver's seat. Most of the guys laughed in amusement. Folio threw his hand up in bewilderment but Noah cut him off before he could protest being the one with a human for a booster seat.
“Y/N get in the van now, you can have your tantrum after we get back.”
His tone was yet again firm, only this time you didn't dare disobey. You were, however, feeling just bold enough.
“Yes sir.”
He didn't give you a chance to see any reaction to the title, if there was any. He was climbing into the van with you in tow. With everyone in their seats, Matt took off in the direction of the pizza buffet. You would be thrilled to be on your favorite seat if your current wardrobe, or lack thereof, was not a situation of its own.
The trip is only two minutes in and the feeling of Noah’s breath on your neck is making your head swim. His hands rest on the tops of his thighs, on either side of your hips. Their warmth radiates through the thin fabric of your skirt, warming your skin that has been cooled by the chilly night air. You’re suddenly aware of your weight on his lap, the way his body perfectly fits under you, how inviting his torso feels against your back, the steadiness of the breaths fanning your neck and shoulder where your sweater slipped down again. The streetlights are the only glow in the night, you wonder if you can sneak a peek at how they illuminate his face. Before you can attempt to turn your head the tires screech and the van comes to an abrupt stop. The force of the hard braking caused you to slide forwards a few inches on Noah’s lap.
“Who the fuck pulls out in front of someone like that! If i hadn't been paying attention we woulda crashed right into those assholes! Everyone ok?
Immediately giving reassurance, voices rang with “yeah”s and “all good”s. A strong arm wraps around your waist and a warm hand slides under your thigh, pulling you back into place. Noah’s arm holds you tighter against his torso than you were previously. You felt secure.
He adjusted the hand under your thigh and you now realize there is nothing between your skin and his. The new placement puts his fingers just inches from your core, where the skin of your thigh is the softest. You try to ignore the thoughts you've had about those very fingers during lonely late nights chasing your orgasm. You're trembling ever so slightly, hoping he doesn't notice, or at least will blame it on the near accident. Your hopes are snuffed out as Noah chuckles lowly in your ear, which makes you clench around nothing. The way you are positioned so perfectly on his lap, you just know he had to pick up on it.
He leans his head in so the tip of his nose is just touching the shell of your ear. Somehow his breathing is still steady. You try to match your breaths with his to steady yours. He gives your thigh a squeeze and all hope of not letting him know the effect he has on you is completely gone. You're gone. You grind down on him, despite your own mental protest. He gasps so quietly that only you can hear it, the hand under your thigh maintains a tight grip. Your hands find the tops of his thighs, you grip tightly in an attempt to keep a hold onto reality. What you didn't expect was for his hips to roll up into yours which has you seeing stars.
Thankful now for the loud debate happening amongst all the boys about who knows what, as a small groan rumbled out of your chest. Your head lulls back and Noah’s lips ghost up your neck and settle on your ear. His breaths are now short and uneven. Maybe you weren't hallucinating, did you really have this effect on him?
“Need to feel how wet you are.” His whisper barely audible in the midst of all the other voices. It sounded needy, despirate.
You turned your head more towards him unsure if you could even speak coherently. “Please, Noah, please.”
“We're here!”
All euphoria Is ripped from your body like a bandaid and Matt's abrupt announcement has you stone cold sober. You look out the window of the van and see you have in fact arrived at the pizza buffet. Right, how could you forget the place is only about ten minutes from the house.
Everyone has piled out of the van and into the restaurant. You and Noah both wear flushed faces, praying to any deity that will take pity on you for nobody to ask about it. The adrenaline coursing through your veins masks your appetite but you know it's been a while since you've eaten, besides the pizza options actually look decent.
After you've all ate your fill, Folio enough for him and a horse, it's time to load back up into the cramped van. You take your place on your unholy throne, no argument and definitely no funny business this time. Mind racing a mile a minute, what were you thinking letting those events unfold in such close quarters with people you both spend so much time with. You can't wait to get out of there but the ride back now seems three times as long.
Back at the house bodies are scrambling to get clear of Folio's noxious gas bomb that could level a small city. Any lingering lust you may have had is definitely extinguished after that near death experience. You make a mental note to look on ebay for a gas mask. You're certain he should have to register his ass as a biological weapon.
You make your way to the kitchen, the greasy pizza wreaking havoc on your reflux. The tums aren't on the counter where you last put them. Of course someone put them with the other medicines on the top shelf in the cabinet. You're the only one that can't reach the shelf so none of the others would have given it a second thought.
The others are nowhere in sight. It's late, they are probably heading to bed after a night of beer, weed and pizza. You secretly hoped Noah would appear behind you to assist your reaching the tums, but alas, you're alone. Hoisting yourself up into the counter you finally reach what you need. Sliding one leg back off the counter you slip a bit on the material of your skirt causing your other leg to come down without an ounce of grace. A stinging on your shin brings your attention to the bright red scrape left in the wake of the counters edge.
“What happened, you ok?”
Noahs voice breaks your attention away from examining the stinging scrape.
“Yeah, just a little scrape. I couldn't reach the tums.”
“Why didn't you wait for me to help you? Let me take care of that.”
“I didn't know where you were, I assumed everyone had gone off to bed. And ‘that’ is fine I promise, just a scrape.”
You must have not heard him say he was going to the bathroom when you got back over the jokes about Folio playing the gluteal tuba. He tells you to let him just take a look anyways and you oblige him, following him upstairs to his room. You lean against the gaming desk as he lowers Himself to his knees to get a better look. Holding your calf in his hand to pull your leg closer, you can't help but be amused by the goofy look on his face.
“Oh yeah, I'll have to amputate this immediately!”
You laugh at his exaggerated demeanor.
“Nah you were right, you will be ok princess. No surgery tonight, just a kiss for it, doctor's orders!”
He plants a gentle barely-there kiss near the scrape on your shin. But his hands and lips are migrating up your legs
“I think that should cover it, doctor.” You giggle out.
“The doctor has left the building princess.” The playful look in his eyes has been replaced by something you can only describe as hunger.
That familiar sensation ignites your bones, making your head swim as you feel his lips on your mid thigh. His breath fans under your skirt along with his hands that have now reached your bare hips. It's easy to get lost in the clouds, Noah kneeling before you, igniting your skin like petrol soaked paper and fireworks.
His hand hooks under your thigh, lifting your leg and resting the bend of your knee on his shoulder. He looks up to you as if to see any hesitation. Finding none in your hooded eyes he dives in. A deliberate stripe of his tongue knocks the wind out of your lungs. Your hands weave into his hair as his movements become more that of a starving animal.
Your supporting leg starts to feel weak, orgasm already approaching due to the all day teasing. Noah must have taken notice, he effortlessly lifts you just enough to seat your ass on the edge of the desk. He wastes no time continuing his feast, only this time he inserts two fingers, almost immediately perfecting his position and rhythm. Both legs thrown haphazardly over his shoulders, palms on the desk defying your wavering muscles to hold your torso up.
Your skirt has bunched and rolled up, revealing the Roman artwork in front of you. Noah's big hands wrapped so perfectly around your thighs, fingertips indenting the soft skin like a Bernini sculpture. He groans when your thighs clamp around his head and it sounds like heaven. His pace is steady, the sensation of his mouth and fingers almost too much. An orgasm crashes over you like a tsunami and your arms can no longer hold you up, leaving you on your back.
He hasn't slowed down his movements despite how sensitive you are. Now it is overwhelming. The sensation is painfully delicious and your hips have a mind of their own as you ride his face into your next orgasm. His movements have come to a halt, but he stays in place to await you to still.
It seems irrational to think you could drown someone this way, but that thought crosses your mind anyways. You didn't even know it was possible to squirt outside of the few times you managed to make yourself. His hands move to the insides of your thighs just above your knees and you can hear his ragged breathing.
Those signs of life being all the confirmation you needed, you gather your strength and raise yourself up to get him in your line of sight. He hasn't let go of you but he is now sitting back onto the heels of his feet. He looks at you in awe and any insecurities you felt have vanished.
Raising up to stand he puts one hand on the back of your neck and the other on your thigh. His lust blown eyes never leaving yours. Both panting breathlessly.
“That. Was. Beautiful. So good princess.”
His lips are on yours for the first time and the taste of you on them is sinful. Tongues dancing, your legs wrap around his waist pulling him closer. You can feel the effect you have on him and grind against his erection. The heightened sensitivity causing you to moan which Is entombed by his lips. Your fingers tug at the hem of his shirt, urging him to take it off. You don't get to revel in the beauty of the tattoos littering his perfect skin as he moves in to pull your sweater over your head. Swiftly, he removes your lace bralette.
“You're a pro at that Noah, I didn't know taking off a bra was such a skill.”
“Surely you didn't think the only skill my fingers have is playing guitar?”
“If I did I definitely don't now.”
With that he wraps your legs around his waist and lifts you up. He sits on the bed and you are once again on your unholy throne. His skin is hot against your bare chest. One of your hands holds onto his bicep, the other ghosting fingertips over his neck. You've always admired the tattoos there. You seize the opportunity and plant kisses from his lips, along his jaw, and down the side of his neck.
There isn't an ounce of shyness in you now. Your hand leaves his bicep to tug on his hair, tilting his chin up and better exposing his neck. You kiss, lick, and nip at the skin to your heart's content. Making your way down his chest and stomach, you mentally map every inch of skin and ink. Upon reaching the waistband of his pants you return the look in search of permission. His face still painted with desire and hunger, he licks his pretty lips and nods his head. You undo the button and tug Down his pants and underwear just enough.
Nice cock.
You mimic his move with a deliberate tongue stripe up his length before taking him between your lips. Hollowing out your cheeks on the way up elicits the sweetest moan from him. Wanting to hear more You pick up your pace, your tongue and lips perfectly harmonized, now drawing out the prettiest moans you've ever heard. This 6’3 heavily tattooed metal head is coming undone beneath you. His hands are in your hair and he's a moaning mess.
A hand moves to the side of your face signaling you to stop. Before you can question him he speaks and it sounds like begging, almost whimpering.
“Gonna make me cum. Need to feel you.”
“Yes sir.”
He all but growls, standing as you do. He captures your lips in a needy kiss, one hand still gripping your hair. Your hands all over him before tugging at his pants. He breaks the kiss to remove what's left of his clothing. You reach for the waistband of your skirt but he is quick to stop you.
“Nu uh, keep this pretty thing on. It's been driving me insane since you put it on, I couldn't stop thinking about fucking you in it and now I'm going to.” He puts his hands on your hips to turn your back towards him. “Turn around, want you to ride me like I'm your throne. I know how much you love sittin’ on me princess.”
His statement would have made you blush if you weren't so empowered by your own lust. You follow his lead, waiting for him to be seated before claiming your throne. Sinking down on him slowly you try to find the balance between adjusting to him and fucking yourself dumb on his dick.
Once fully seated you pause to breathe for a moment. You refrain from quoting Olaf about being impaled. His arms wrap around you and he leans his chest into your back. His lips against your ear, breath hot against your skin, just like the van.
“Whenever you're ready princess, I got you.”
Not a moment longer you start moving. Being wrapped securely in his arms while he moans so slutty in your ear Is intoxicatingly erotic. Any attempt to keep the noise at a minimum has left and the room is filled with a mixture of both your moans and inaudible ramblings like the writing of a symphony. His arms move with you, holding you steady to help you keep your rhythm despite your shaky legs. His name falls off your lips over and over like a prayer that's sure to awaken the angels.
“Feel so good, taking me so good. That's it princess, doing so good for me.”
“Noahhh… god.”
“Can feel you're close baby, let go. Cum for me, claim me.”
His praises sending you over the edge, a mix of moans and curses flow from your mouth, his name coming out like a chant. Another orgasm wracks through your body, his following shortly after. He doesn't let go, neither of you move to separate. Your breathing is matched by his, short and heavy. His voice is low and husky In your ear.
“Always been yours princess. You claimed your throne the first time you had to sit on my lap when we all went out after that show in Vegas. Remember the van was so full even Folio had to have a human for a booster seat.”
You chuckle at the memory of Folio sitting in Jesse's lap, neither of them were thrilled. But you felt like you were right where you belong, like you were a queen sitting on her throne. An unholy throne.
Noah leads you to the shower so you can both get cleaned up after the day's events. Once you take your skirt off he jokes about finally seeing you naked for the first time. This man will never cease to amaze you.
After you're both clean and dry, Noah pulls out clothes. He would usually hand you one of his shirts to wear to bed, but this time he puts it on you himself. Such a small act felt so intimate. You felt claimed.
Sharing a bed and snuggling was nothing new, but this time was different. All the times you wished you could kiss his perfect nose and pretty lips while laying so close, now you are. You swear if he were a cat he would be purring, clearly loving your extra affections. Sleep greets you both soon, but not before a thought creeps in your head, hoping everyone else had been long passed out and deaf to the symphony that occurred in Noah's room.
The next morning, you walk downstairs together to see everyone else has woken up before you. It seems like you're in the clear, until overlapping mimicking of yours and Noah's perfect symphony is being screeched by all the boys at once. You almost feel embarrassed but Noah plops down on his spot on the couch, pulling you down with him. Sitting on his lap you feel at ease, finding yourself laughing at the boys’ antics. A tattooed hand finds it's way to your neck, thumb and finger gripping your chin to make you look at him. The smile on his face mirrors yours as he pulls you in for a kiss. Of course everyone had to be dramatic about that, one telling you to get a room, a couple others still making their exaggerated moans. These people are lunatics, and you feel at home.
253 notes · View notes
allllium · 8 months
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🖤 Best Simon "Ghost" Riley Fics on Tumblr 🖤
Part One • Part Two • Part Three • Part Four
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Fluff
° High
Gentle Hands
↳ @hyperactively-me
Unmasked Love [Dad Simon]
Homeward Bound
↳ @springtyme
Simon Taking Care of Reader
Physical Touch
Drabble [Dad Simon?]
Drabble [Dad Simon]
Drabble
Drabble
↳ @starstruckmiraclekitty
Drabble
Birthday Boy
Bimbo!Reader
↳ @yawnderu
Showering
Simon Buys You A Gift
↳ @stargirlrchive
° Simon Needing to Hold You After a Bad Day
Girl Dad [Dad Simon]
↳ @thexsilentxwordsmith
Soon
Smitten
↳ @tojisun
Physical Affection
Drabble
Curly Haired Gf
Laugh
↳ @sunsetsimon
Roommate!Simon
Baby
↳ @a-small-writer-in-a-big-world
° Soft Moments ~ @mockerycrow
Drunk!Reader [Mafia Simon] ~ @cordeliawhohung
Bone Tired ~ @tacticaldiary
Vulnerable ~ @velvetures
Headcannons ~ @thephant0menace
Taking off the Mask ~ @empresskylo
Picture-Perfect ~ @ghostaholics
Mockingbird [Dad Simon] ~ @bejeweledblondie
Fatherhood || [Dad Simon] ~ @lundenloves
° Melting ~ @qtboni
Casual Affection ~ @erosology
Lieutenant Ghost Hates Admitting hes Fallen for you ~ @shadowspromise
° Pregnancy [Dad Simon?] ~ @xmy-love-to-youx
Hush ~ @kivino
° Clingy Simon ~ @colonelarr0w
Dad!Simon [Dad Simon] ~ @aethelwyneleigh27
Husband Simon with a Baby [Dad Simon] ~ @ahqkas
The Dog Protects you [Dad Simon] ~ @the-froschamethyst4
Sassy ~ @lxvvie
Physical Touch ~ @prettyoatmeal
Dad!Simon [Dad Simon] ~ @ragingbookdragon
The Ghost Distribution System ~ @ghouljams
Too Good [Dad Simon] ~ @dammn-dean
° Just Play Along ~ @rileyslibrary
Sick!Simon ~ @suimon
Mood Swings, Cravings, and Breakdowns ~ @midnightcrw
Bathing ~ @dmitriene
Snow Angels... Kinda [Dad Simon] ~ @bagofshinyrocks
Sweet cheeks ~ @maskedmenmakemeferal
No Glass ~ @certifiedfreec
Simon as a Father ~ @circlebuttons
Drabble ~ @skyrigel
This Tornado Loves You ~ @ferritins
Ghost!Ghost ~ @idreaminphosphorescence
Plus-sized!Reader ~ @cumikering
Touching ~ @celestialprincesse
Tattoo Artist ~ @rememberwren
Shocking ~ @lxvvie
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661 notes · View notes
madhatterbri · 1 month
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I Had Some Help | D.P.
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Summary: Y/N wakes up next to Damian Priest and he reminds her he isn't the only one that helped get them in bed.
Author's Note: I love song fic requests because there are so many ways a person can interpret the song. ❤️
Requested by: @new-zealand-chic
Taglist: @theworldofotps @mrsarcherofinfamy @smallestsnarkestgirl @brideofinfamy @magicalbuttertarts
"Oh, no, no, no, princesa. I had some help," Damian told the woman in his bed. She had a sheet covering her body as if he hadn't seen all of it the night before. Y/N opened her mouth yet closed it. She didn't remember what exactly happened last night. Embarrassed, she asked him to remind her. A smile popped in his mind as he reminisced.
They were the last two at the hotel bar. He was celebrating another victory against his former best friend, Finn Balor. Damian could see the girl from across the bar. She giggled and waved at him. He smiled politely and waved back. The Archer of Infamy didn't think anything else of the matter until she sat next to him.
He struck up friendly conversations with her. Mostly because he was in a good mood and the adult beverages were kicking in. Also, she was pretty cute. They started to flirt with each other. One thing led to another, and they kissed.
They continued with physical intimacy. Hands and lips rarely left the other. She was fun to be around. The liquor really loosened Y/N up, and she ended up having the same sense of humor as her. They lost track of time, and the bartender informed them the bar was closed.
"I think I should help you to you room," Damian chuckled when they walked into the elevator. They both reached to pick the same number.
"Looks like you can," she giggled. Their lips locked again. Damian couldn't quite remember the parts from the elevator to the room. He only remembered when they made it to his room.
"I was thinking we could both stay here to help with our hangovers," he whispered and wrapped his arms around her waist. Y/N remained in place, staring at his reflection in the mirror. He kissed the side of her neck. She sighed and moved her head to the side.
His fingers laced hers as he led Y/N to his bed. She sat on his bed. He kissed her lips. "So perfect,"
She blushed.
"You are cute when you blush,” He tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. His lips were taunting as they moved down to graze the column of her throat. She felt the sharpness of his teeth slide over her skin, and the breath she didn’t know she was holding exhaled in a long, needy moan.
Her eyes rolled when his calloused palms slid beneath her dress, straight to her inner thighs, spreading her legs apart for him. Y/N grabbed his shirt and pulled him in, crashing her lips with his to give him the answer.
He hastily pulled her dress up to bunch around her waist. He seemed to lack patience, and she didn’t attest. Y/N worked on his belt, hands fumbling to get it undone, and he looked down at the struggle with an amused smirk before he stepped back to do it himself.
“Eager?” He smirks. She pulled him back and worked on the buttons of his shirt, but her fingers halted, and her mind spiraled into a blurred haze when she felt him push into her, bottoming out in one swift motion. Grabbing onto his shoulders, she looked up and found that infamous smirk dripping in arrogance.
“Now who’s eager?” Y/N quirked a brow. All she received was a twitch of the corner of Damian's mouth before he wrapped his hands beneath her thighs and hiked them up, holding them firmly at his sides. His hips snapped, the force unforgiving.
With every thrust, the bed hit the wall, the bangs echoing throughout the bedroom. Y/N's head fell back as he rocked into you, two buttons of his shirt letting a sliver of tanned skin and pieces of his tattoos peeking through. He drew his lip beneath his teeth as he picked up the pace. Sweat beads formed at his temple, sliding down to his jaw as he stared directly into Y/N's eyes, unable to look away when she was taking him so well.
“Taking me so well,” he breathily rasped as he kissed her. Her mouth opened, but no words flew past them. Her mind scrambled, and her body set ablaze. It’s a wonder she could even keep her eyes on him.
“You feel so good," she breathlessly moaned, cupping his jaw and swiping her thumb over his bottom lip before she leaned forward and pressed hers to him. He picked up the pace, his thrusts gaining momentum, so much so that Y/N couldn’t hold the kiss. He smirked against her lips and leaned back up, grabbing her leg and hiking her ankle up to his shoulder. He placed a kiss on her inner calf before he leaned forward again, his lips latching to your neck.
Y/N's knee brushed her cheek as he rocked into her. The new angle made her feel him so much deeper that she couldn’t contain the incomprehensible sounds spewing from her lips. She arched her hips to match his thrusts. She clenched around him every time he pulled back, just to draw him right back in.
“Do that again.” He grunted against her neck. She kept arching her hips, lifting them off the bed every time he thrust back into her.
“Shit, just like that - right there.” His deep voice slightly trembled. He was losing his composure, and she knew it. She clenched him as tight as she could just to hear the curses he let out against her shoulder.
“I’m so close,” she managed to break out, her hips ferociously raising to chase after that high that was so close she could taste it. He wordlessly brought a hand down between their slick bodies and started working his thumb on her sensitive bundle of nerves.
Y/N's eyes rolled back, his name flew past her lips, and hers rolled off his tongue twice. Her body jolted with the last three thrusts before she felt herself succumb completely. She held onto him for dear life as he rocked her through the high, slowing the thrusts significantly to make sure she rode it out as long as she could. He pulled back up and locked his lips with hers just as his high took hold.
His hips stuttered, then stilled, and she took every last bit he had to offer. Two more breathy kisses, and he pulled back, a lazy smirk and droopy eyes to match on his face. He looked at her with adoration.
“I guess you did have a little help," she whispered sheepishly. Y/N slid out of the bed to gather her clothes.
"You don't have to just leave. I'd like to get to know you. Want to do brunch?"
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fynsh · 2 months
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Currently reading a lot of Coruscant Guard fics
What if upon receiving info about their assigned positions the whole command batch came up with a strategy of regularly switching posts while on Coruscant.
Initially it's to provide cover for the expected medical emergencies (because Coruscant is safe) or if they'll be in need of different talents for specific long-term missions. Cause even after receiving the same standard training, all of them have specialized in different areas. Not enough to be noticed by outsiders since the batchers know how to secretly provide info and apply eachother's shared knowledge immediately.
Of course it doesn't work out because:
- Some Jedi unexpectedly pay way more attention to their commanders and men. General Kenobi spots Cody in the mess and goes to sit at the same table. Even when the clones switch around he recognizes everyone instantly, so Cody is staying on The Negotiator permanently. One of the best things coming out of this is the opportunity to meet up with Captain Rex and the 501st
- Wolffe sustains an injury that they won't be able to cover like they usually do with other tattoos or scars and after losing almost all of the 104th decides to stay and rebuild his battalion with a very protective General Koon
- Ponds is finds himself suddenly taking over responsibility for the most feral kid in the galaxy. He sometimes wonders if Boba distracting Sing before she could actually shoot him was an elaborate ploy to get a better chance to kill General Windu himself or if the boy actually cared about his not-brothers (Boba cares a lot)
- Bly cannot for the life of him stand motionless during another debate in the Senate without going crazy cause he just cares too much about every honest voice being silenced by corruption and greed. His general also seems to watch him closer than others do and he takes the chance to try to learn more about the war efforts from the perspective of the Jedi council
- Bacara, Monnk, Gree and Neyo are on missions taking them to the other side of the galaxy, so far away that they barely make it back to Coruscant. They can't even enter the batchers' secret communication channels most of the times
- Which leaves Fox to become the "permanent" Marshall Commander of the Corries. He guesses it's only fair because more than half of the awards and decorations on the wall of the office were rewarded for his actions. The other half are mostly thanks to Thorn and Bacara being reckless but highly competent idiots
- Thire, Stone and Thorn joke they got stuck with the most uptight of the batch but later realize that Fox strict approach is keeping their men relatively safe. Cause Fox realized very quickly that Coruscant is in fact not safe
- Everyone else takes a whole lot longer to catch on to the not so subtle dangers stretching their claws from the very inside of the Republic's heart, especially with the Guard starting to drift apart from the GAR silently. It takes the CMOs meeting and drinking too much moonshine to finally connect the dots of why the communication lines went mostly dead
- Cody immediately starts strategizing for escape scenarios and researches uninhibited planets. He needs to survive any possible scenario so he can reunite his brothers. His general notices. Rex does as well
- Wolffe is furious and the wolfpack starts finishing their rescue missions in record time to get to the homefront as quickly as possible. He stops drinking alone like he sometimes did and starts accompanying all of his actions with softer words than usual. His general notices
- Ponds is shocked and starts taking to the shinys more. He also asks Boba about his point of view cause the boy definitely notices things a grown man doesn't. He starts sending regular updates about the developments of the general public's moods and tries to find ways to engage in a positive way with the natborns to bring attention to the men fighting a war for them. His general notices
- Bly is sad and starts reading up on all political and especially civil rights debates he can get his hands on. His general notices and asks her master if he has more intel on current developments in all parts of the galaxy. General Vos hasn't been on Coruscant since the start of the second year of war but draws the conclusion he should dig deeper into the heart of the republic
- Bacara is seething and keeps perfecting his already optimized battle plans. The marines train to annihilate droids by hand. He also keeps stocking up on medical equipment. His general doesn't notice
- Neyo doesn't acknowledge feeling anything. He starts tinkering again. He's looking for ways to design communication and transportation devices from all the droid scrap they usually leave behind on the battlefield. He even learns Jawaese. His general doesn't notice
- Monnk and Gree are determined. They comm eachother and start researching on how to survive long term in unknown environments and writing guides on how to identify edibles plants, safe water supplies, how to test for breathable atmosphere and which species like to live in symbiotic or peaceful ways with humanoids. They mask it as personal interest. Their generals notice
- Fox is panicking. He needs to find a new way to keep Hound from being decommissioned for Grizzer peeing in front of a senator's door the second after a natborn noticed their carefully crafted loop hole to switch designations of fallen brothers for the ones they could still save in the official documentations the Guard issues. He hasn't slept or eaten in two days as his comm blinks with the notification of a General striding through the Guard's front door like he belonged among the Corries. He has no time to deal with whatever the Jedi council wants from them but Thire is already on the brink of breaking down scanning data pads for a new loop hole so he grabs his helmet and runs to stop the force user from asking his questions at the wrong time. Not-his general notices
No idea for an actual plot. Just wanted to think about some hurt/comfort and competent clone commanders being brothers before being soldiers
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