#and like respectfully chill the fuck out
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there's something very gross to me about large swaths of this fandom practically demanding the post production team go faster just so they can possibly get their endgame ship sooner. Especially because it's just going to be binged the moment it drops and then y'all will move onto something else in the endless pursuit of "content".
#like have y'all forgotten these are people??#people whose work environment was in a natural disaster last month?#like remember HALF the reason the show is delayed is because of labor rights?#Like half the reason they are ahead is because y'all are DEMANDING the story#and like respectfully chill the fuck out#get comfortable with the fact we won't have a teaser until March or July#stop being so entitled to this show#like this is someone's life's work#stop consuming creative works like they're capitalist trends#stranger things
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i’ve talked about this in the past but i friggin hate looking on pinterest for outfit inspo during colder days and all the outfits that pop up are like skirts and a hoodie, like girl it is below freezing i need like jackets and boots n shit none of this “long skirt and a turtle neck :3” that’s not enough girl my city has nicknames because of how cold it gets here in the winter omfg
give me ideas on how to layer sweaters and leggings not “it’s cold today so i’m wearing a long sleeve & a cardigan :)” YOU DONT KNOW WHAT COLD IS
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/14c2458d4bed2a61b3ee30cde4b8b091/cc3a1eeba12f35ff-09/s540x810/a0e5a3efe099c809701623b2c029cc29e0aa8730.jpg)
#it’s not even THAT cold today#there’s just a chill in the air that i’d like to combat#but pinterest is being a jack ass and giving me shit like short skits and hoodies#respectfully#spend a weekend in my city in like january or february and then tell me yer fuckin cold#i’ve seen my city referenced in BOOKS for being known for being nothing but cold ffs#i just wanna look cute in the snow but it’s not fuckin easy 😭😭😭#i say ‘there’s a chill in the air’ but like it’s STILL fucking below freezing#leave it to me to make a big deal outta nothin’#like i’m making it sound like this is a horrible thing that is getting in the way of my day#it’s really not#but i wanna hang out with my friend today but i also don’t wanna freeze my ass off while i’m on my way to her place yk?#this city can’t make up its damn mind either#too fucking cold in the winter and to damn hot in the summer#like fuck me dude#i can’t win 😭😭#my eczema is SCREAMING all day everyday#FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF
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strangers | part 2
summary: nearly a month has passed since you agreed to go to california with joel, and you think you might love him. you trust him, and he makes you feel cared for and safe, but he hasn't been telling you the whole truth. eventually, you make a shocking discovery that makes him feel like a stranger to you all over again.
!!PLEASE READ WARNINGS, THIS IS A VERY DARK FIC!!
I've tried to label this fic as detailed and as boldly as possible. I will not be held responsible or bullied off the internet if you choose to read this potentially upsetting/triggering work of fiction anyway.
warnings: joel miller x f!reader, 18+, smut, age gap (reader is college-aged, joel is mid-50s), no outbreak au, serial killer!joel, dark!joel, DDDNE (graphic descriptions of blood, murder, and of captive/dead girls, non-con p-in-v sex (i'll say rape just in case but reader does not explicitly express non-consent), being held captive, degrading language toward victims/victim blaming, joel is implied to fantasize that you're dead while fucking you, kind of stockholm syndrome), non-con breathplay/choking, mommy & daddy issues, lying, gaslighting, coercion, manipulation, pet names (baby, darlin', sweetheart, babydoll, etc), no ellie/sarah but tommy has an unnamed daughter, somewhat inspired by "strangers" by ethel cain, vaguely set in the 70s/80s, please respectfully let me know if i missed anything and i will rectify the tags
word count: 8.1k
a/n: this is the second part. if the tags deter you from reading that's okay, just pretend joel and reader made it to california and they lived happily ever after. i understand i've written something dark and heavy and it isn't for everyone, you are welcome on my blog whether it's for you or not as long as everyone is respectful of each other <3
divider by @saradika
series masterlist/moodboard
read this chapter on ao3
part 3 (coming soon)
As the breeze begins to carry a chill that bites without the protection of a jacket or one of Joel’s flannels, the two of you have been spending the last month or so trying to outrun Autumn altogether as you make your way to California. You’ve crossed more state lines now than you ever could’ve imagined you would, and you and Joel have even made a game out of trying to spot the license plate of the farthest state away from wherever you are. He was impressed when you had recently managed to spot an Alaska plate in fucking Kansas, of all places.
You spend your days visiting cheesy tourist traps and collecting cheap souvenirs from their gift shops, and your nights in motels or in his truck or in goddamn gas station bathrooms tangled up in each other’s bodies, unable to keep your hands off each other. The seal had finally broken just a few days after you had agreed to go to California with him, when he had laid his hand on your knee while he was driving, and you didn’t stop him from sliding it higher and higher, his fingers eventually making their way between your thighs and gently rubbing your clit through your shorts. Joel would’ve been content to play with your pussy just like that, pinching at your little nub and dipping his fingers into your drooling hole as he drove, but the noises you were making were driving him fucking insane. He had pulled off into a wooded area and instructed you to climb into the backseat, where he had shoved himself inside of you for the first time and fucked you until you saw stars. You never made it to wherever it was you were headed to that afternoon, deciding instead to just call it a day and spend the rest of it covered in each other’s sweat and come and breathing heavily into each other’s necks.
You’ve seen new parts of Joel in other ways, too, in the time that you’ve been traveling with him. He’s been opening up to you, slowly but surely, as the weeks go on. You did eventually remember to ask him about that song you couldn’t quite make out at Moody’s, humming the bit of the chorus you could remember for him in hopes that he’d recognize it.
“I think I know the one, darlin’. Should have it on cassette somewhere here, ‘s called Alone and Forsaken, think it’s by Hank Williams. Hadn’t heard that one in a while, ‘s a winner, though,” he’d said.
You’d rifled through the contents of the glove box and pulled it out, excitedly swapping the tape with the one in the player and pressing the button on the dash to start the song. Joel’s fingers had begun to tap against the wheel immediately, and he seemed to relax at the sound of the guitar’s steady strumming. You had just watched him as the song played, admiring the subtle movements of the muscles in his face as he’d hummed along.
But he’d noticed your staring, after a while, and teased, “Y’know, really shouldn’t look at a man like that, babydoll. Might give ‘im some ideas.”
Babydoll. That was new, too. It had become his new favorite pet name for you, bestowed upon you when he had offered you another dress to wear from the stash of clothing belonging to Tommy’s daughter that he keeps under his backseat. Joel had told you eventually that he’d fibbed about his relationship with Tommy, just a little bit, and that he hasn’t actually seen him or his kid in quite some time. “Just kinda grew apart after a while, stopped keepin’ up with each other,” Joel had explained. “Jus’ never quite got around to gettin’ rid of all that stuff, I guess.”
You certainly didn’t mind having something new to wear, especially something as pretty as the little pink dress that got you your new name. Joel had looked at you hungrily when you’d first tried it on, raking his eyes up and down your form as you twirled for him.
“So pretty, sweetheart. Look just like a lil’ babydoll in that, don’t you?” Joel had complimented.
You’d giggled at the nickname, becoming shy as he’d stalked towards you and used a hooked finger to lift up your chin, forcing your eyes to meet his own. “Like that one, do ya? Like bein’ my babydoll, all mine?”
You’d sucked your bottom lip between your teeth, your brows peaked with need as your eyes had begun to glaze over from his gentle dominance. It had never taken much from him to make you start feeling a little floaty, even early on, ready to fall into his arms so he could make you gush onto his fingers or his cock or his tongue.
You’d nodded your head all syrupy and slow, making a little whimpering sound in affirmation.
“Say it,” he’d whispered, the hand propping up your chin slowly finding its way down to your neck, where it always seemed to land in your moments of intimacy. Joel had never really asked you if you liked it there or not, if you liked it when he squeezed your throat just right until your vision became spotty and your breath came out pinched and raspy, but you had learned to like it, to crave that guidance and control from him. He’d never taken it too far, just brought you teetering over the edge of unconsciousness, then allowed you to fill your lungs with air again.
“I like it, Joel, like being yours…”
“Yeah… ‘n you’re gonna be mine forever, huh? Never gonna leave my side, always gonna belong to me, ain’t that right?” His grip on your windpipe had begun to tighten as he questioned you.
“Forever… ‘m yours, Joel…” you’d promised through a hoarse whisper.
A growl had rumbled from deep in Joel’s chest at your choked words, and he’d quickly let go of your throat to spin you around and shove you face-first into the creaking motel mattress, flipping up the skirt of your little babydoll dress and showing you just how pretty he thought you looked in it. “Mine, mine, mine,” he’d chanted as he caged you in with his heavy form, slamming inside of your aching cunt until you cried out, shuddering around him as he spilled inside of you.
He calls you babydoll almost exclusively now, like it’s your actual name. Your everyday clothing consists almost entirely of frilly dresses and tiny tops and tight shorts from the supply in Joel’s truck, with maybe a few items he picks out for you at the occasional Goodwill mixed in. He’s made it so that you never have to think for yourself ever again, taking care of everything for you from picking out your outfits to ordering for you at the diners. All you have to worry about is being good, being his, his perfect little doll, and he says that you deserve a life as easy as this, that it’s the least he can do for you in exchange for your company, for being so good for him.
Joel does allow you to use your brain for some things, still, like bombarding him with the questions you’d begun stashing away in your mind all those weeks ago. Some of them he still answers vaguely, like where the scar on his nose came from, or if he’d been married before, or what his life was like before he met you. But sometimes you can get a story out of him, and it always feels like you’ve won the lottery when you’re able to get him talking. After the Hank Williams cassette had finished playing that day, you’d decided to ask him what he’d wanted to be when he grew up.
He’d thought about it for a second, and then laughed at himself. “‘F I tell you, I don’t wanna hear any gigglin’ outta you over there, ‘s that clear?”
“I can’t promise you that if I don’t know what you’re gonna tell me. If you say, like, a rodeo clown or something, I’m gonna laugh.”
Joel had just glared at you, and you’d rolled your eyes.
“Fine, I won’t laugh, I promise. Just tell me.”
“Alright…” Joel had sighed. “I wanted to be a singer, actually. Believe it or not.”
You had almost started crying right then, the visual of a little Joel all those years ago wanting to grow up and become a singer being almost too much to bear.
“Awe, Joel… You can sing? Can you—”
“No, I ain’t gonna sing for you. Don’t even ask, babydoll.”
Joel had seemed adamant about that at the time, but just a few days later when a violent thunderstorm was blowing through the town you’d stopped in for the night, you’d woken him up when you couldn’t fall asleep, and asked him in a trembling voice if he would sing for you. He’d just grunted and rolled back over at first, but you’d kept quietly begging him, and he eventually gave in to your little frightened sounding pleas. You’d rested your head against his chest as he stroked your hair and sang Alone and Forsaken for you a few times over, until the soothing sound of his voice and the quiet thumping of his heartbeat had lulled you back to sleep. The thunder had eventually retreated when it realized you weren’t scared of it anymore, now feeling safe and protected in Joel’s arms.
He could only take so much more questioning from you after a while, though, until he decided it was about time for you to reveal more of yourself to him, and you’d thought that was fair. You’d spent a whole afternoon in the truck one day telling him about how your dad had passed away when you were still in high school, and how you’d always wished he could’ve seen you walk across the stage at graduation and go off to college. How he was the one who’d even encouraged you to go in the first place, when you hadn’t felt smart enough or good enough at anything to ever find the pursuit worthwhile. But he’d always been supportive of your artistic endeavors, the ones your mom had always called ‘useless’ and ‘a waste of time’ and ‘nothing that could ever amount to a real job’. Your dad had tried his best to make you believe otherwise, always proudly displaying your work around the house when your mother would allow it, and even framing some of it for his office. It was devastating when he had passed, but at least you felt you could make him proud in some way, by deciding to pursue a degree in art at the nearby state school. But then your mother had ruined your chances of ever finishing the program, and, well… here you are now.
After you’d finished your story, Joel had comforted you just like he always did, promising to find you a sketchbook and some pencils at the next town you came across so you could keep nurturing your talents. He’d made good on his word, and now your time on the road is often spent sketching Joel, his cassettes, the mountains, anything you see that sparks inspiration and demands to be committed to paper.
Today, the two of you are on your way to see the world’s largest something or other in New Mexico, and you’ve become determined to etch a drawing onto every page of your book by the time you reach California. You’ve sketched just about everything in the truck at this point, and different tries at capturing Joel’s handsome side profile already take up more than half of the pages that you’ve filled out so far. You begin scouring the cabin of the truck, searching for something new you can draw. You eventually try bending forward to look under the bench seat, just in case you can find a crumpled up candy wrapper or something, but an even more interesting object catches your eye, tucked just behind Joel’s legs. It looks like an old shoebox, maybe containing some more tapes or things belonging to Tommy’s kid. You try to reach over to Joel’s side of the bench seat to grab it, and he almost swerves the truck off the road when he notices what you’re doing.
“What’re you…? Don’t touch that, babydoll, jus’ leave it alone,” he scolds.
You sit up straight again, taken aback by his tone. “Why? I was just looking for something new to draw, thought there might be something in there.”
“It’s just junk in there, baby, nothin’ you’d much be interested in,” Joel says, his grip on the steering wheel becoming more white-knuckled.
“So? I can’t draw some old junk?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
Joel sighs in frustration. “‘Cause I said so, babydoll, Christ. Just leave it be, I’ll throw it out next time we stop. Find somethin’ else to draw.”
“Okay… ‘M sorry,” you respond timidly.
“‘S alright, sweet girl. ‘M sorry too, shouldn’ta yelled at you like that. Just… tryin’ to drive here, don’t want you reachin’ behind my legs and shit, ain’t safe.”
You just nod, popping open the glove compartment for the hundredth time in hopes that there could be something in there that you’d missed before. There isn’t, so you decide to pluck out that Hank Williams tape and sketch it again, humming the song to yourself in an attempt at self-soothing as you begin to outline the shape of it. It seems like a bad time to ask Joel to sing it for you again, but if you’re good for the rest of the day and make up for your earlier mistake, maybe you could hear it again tonight.
—
You’re just finishing up your sketch a half hour or so later, when Joel decides it’s time to stop for gas. You glance over at the fuel gauge on the dash, and it looks like the truck still has half a tank left, but you decide not to say anything about it. Just like he’d said when you had first reached for the shoebox, Joel swipes it from underneath the seat as he exits the truck, tossing it haphazardly into the trash can by the gas pump.
“Dammit,” you hear him curse to himself, and you look out the window to see him staring angrily at the empty pocket inside of his wallet where cash should be. Joel opens up the passenger side door to explain, “Forgot I used up the last o’ my cash on dinner last night. Just… stay here, babydoll, gotta head inside ‘n use the ATM quick, alright?”
You nod obediently, and watch him take long strides toward the convenience store before disappearing inside.
He’ll only be gone for a few minutes at the most, so you know that you have to make your move now. You’ve never had Joel bark at you before like he’d done when you had reached for that beat up cardboard box, and you still feel a little rattled by it. What could possibly have been in there that he didn’t want you to see? For the first time, you feel like you might not be able to trust him, and it makes you feel a little sick. You’ve started to feel like you might love Joel, and you think he probably feels the same way, even if you haven’t said those exact three words to each other yet. Someone who loves you wouldn’t hide things from you, would they? Especially not after you’ve already bared so much of your souls to each other, after you’ve decided that you belong to each other.
There’s only one way to find out, you decide.
You exit the truck quietly, swiftly closing the short distance between you and the trash can and peering into the black plastic bag that lines it. You fish out the shoebox from where it lays on top of other garbage, and crouch down in front of the gas pump to hide yourself from view. Taking a steadying breath, you carefully remove the weathered lid from the box and begin to examine its contents. At first glance, it seems to just be full of washed-out polaroids and a few random objects—a tarnished charm bracelet, a fraying ribbon, and a cracked pair of glasses among them. What is all this stuff? You think to yourself, Keepsakes from his former life, more of Tommy’s daughter’s things that he couldn’t bring himself to get rid of yet?
You pick up a photo laying face down on top of the pile and turn it over, almost immediately dropping it back into the box in favor of clapping your hand over your open mouth. You shut your eyes tightly as they begin to water, hoping that when you open them again, you’ll find that you were wrong about what you had just seen. That it was just a trick of the light, that it wasn’t what it seemed, that you had just imagined it.
But you aren’t so fortunate.
Your heart plummets into your stomach as you peer inside the box again, a sickly feeling of dread beginning to claw its way up the back of your neck. You examine the photo more closely, and it appears to be of a girl who looks about your age, bound at the hands, gagged, and naked. She’s kneeling on the damp forest floor, staring up at the photographer with a defeated, glazed-over expression. She’s bruised, bleeding from her nose, and filthy, with her hair tangled in knots and mascara-stained tears running down her cheeks. The photo looks to have captured her last moments alive.
One by one, you quickly examine a dozen or so more photos as your pulse hammers hard in your throat. Each of them are nearly identical, all depicting a pretty early twenty-something, either restrained and begging for her life or already dead. They all have dates scribbled on the front that are spaced out a mere couple of weeks from each other, with the names of the girls written on the backs of them. To your horror, you notice that some of the polaroids even have bloody fingerprints staining their white frames. It seems impossible that Joel could be the one who took these photos, that he could be the one to reduce these young girls to nothing more than weak puddles of tears and blood. You begin desperately trying to convince yourself that this is all part of a fucked-up nightmare you’re moments away from waking up from, until a photo containing a bright flash of white catches your eye. You can’t help how your face contorts into a grimace when you examine the photo closer, your stomach lurching at the sight of the amount of blood spilling from the back of the girl’s head as she lays lifeless on a wooden floor. All that she’s wearing are her underwear and a white tank top, the ditsy floral pattern of which you could swear you’ve seen before.
You don’t understand why it looks so familiar to you until you spread around more of the polaroids in the box, and spot one capturing a girl tied up and gagged on a motel bed, wearing a baby pink dress that grotesquely juxtaposes the depravity of her situation. She has wide, pleading doe eyes and ribbons finishing the ends of each of her braids that kind of make her look like… a doll.
The realization hits you all at once, that nearly all of the clothes Joel has given you since the day you met him had never belonged to Tommy’s daughter at all, if he even has one, if Tommy even really exists. You’d been wearing Anna’s white tank top with the delicate floral print. Elizabeth’s pink babydoll dress. Even the clothes you have on now probably belonged to some of Joel’s victims, but you don’t think you can stand to find out which ones.
Your thoughts begin to spiral out of control, an irrational part of your brain working overtime to come up with a million reasons why this can’t be true, that there has to be some other explanation for what you’re seeing, until you pick up a final photo, where the sleeve of Joel’s drab olive flannel is clearly visible in the corner. The shirt is tattered at the cuffs in the exact way that Joel’s is, and it has the same terracotta striping woven through the plaid pattern. Emerging from the bottom of the sleeve is a tanned, thick hand, wrapped tightly around a pale, fragile neck, with some of the girl’s blonde ringlet curls poking through the gaps between his fingers. When you flip over the photo, your blood runs cold when you read the name inscribed on the back—Ruby.
Your tears begin to fall then. How strange, how cruel, that fate has led you here, lured you straight to him. Someone that you thought you knew, trusted, loved, who’s suddenly a stranger to you all over again. You’ve just been doomed from the start, haven’t you? All along, it was Joel who had been responsible for building the trap you’ve found yourself ensnared in now. Ruby hadn’t run away at all that summer, hadn’t found a place she belonged, a place to start a real life for herself, a place to see her unlimited potential finally fulfilled. She’d met Joel, and he’d restricted her existence to nothing more than a polaroid that he keeps in a fucking shoebox under the seat of his truck. All along, this is where she’d been.
You feel like throwing up. You’re reeling, completely horrified and sick to your stomach, your life as you had just come to know it having come crashing down around you in an instant. You quickly replace the lid on the box and throw it back into the trash can, hopefully never to be seen again. You scramble back inside the truck just in time for the convenience store door to swing open again, the little bell accompanying the movement sounding sharp and sinister as it announces Joel’s imminent arrival. Your pulse pounds erratically against your ribcage as you try to act as naturally as possible, forcing your shaking hands to look like they’re busy adding the finishing touches to your latest sketch.
You don’t look at Joel as he approaches the truck, and he doesn’t seem to pay you much attention, either. He leans against the hood casually once he feeds the bills into the pump, letting the tank fill the rest of the way up with gas. You have to come up with an escape plan now, before your poorly disguised agitation gives you away and he figures out what you’ve seen.
When his task is finished, Joel climbs back into the driver’s seat exhales a deep breath, like he feels relieved to have finally discarded the evidence so you’d never find out the truth about him. You’re determined to keep him clueless for as long as you can.
“Ready to keep goin’, babydoll? Should only be another hour or so ��fore we get to the next stop,” he asks, reaching over to you to gently tuck a lock of hair behind your ear. You flinch away from his touch instinctually, then silently curse yourself for already doing such a shitty job at keeping up your facade.
“A-actually, um…” You swallow hard. “I’m kinda g-getting a headache, it really hurts. And I feel really s-sick. Is it okay if we just… go straight to a motel? I just wanna… lay down,” you lie, screwing up your face into a pained wince and wrapping your arms around your stomach in an effort to make it all more convincing.
“Oh, you poor thing…” Joel coos, placing the back of his hand against your forehead. “Y’ do feel kinda hot… Sure, darlin’. Think there’s a place not too much further down the road here, jus’ hang tight.”
“T-thank you,” you reply weakly. Your voice is coming out a little uneven, but you hope it just adds to the believability of your act instead of raising suspicion. You try to cover it up with a cough and a little pained groan, just for good measure.
Joel doesn’t waste any more time getting back on the road, and you stay quiet for the short ride to the nearest motel, doing your best to hold back your tears and even out your breathing. You’ll need to be calm and clear-headed in order to have any chance at escape, lest you want to meet the same fate as the dozens of other girls who were probably also blinded by Joel’s southern charm and good looks, who were manipulated by his lies and tricked into believing that he could give them a happy ending. Was he ever going to let you see California? Or had he been leading you to your death all along?
You’re going to be the one who lives. For Ruby, you have to be. For all of them.
—
Just like the first night you’d spent with him, Joel has you wait in the truck while he checks in at the counter and retrieves the keys to your room before coming back to get you. You fake a stumble when you step down from the truck, and Joel mumbles a ‘Jesus, babydoll’ before hoisting you into his arms and carrying you across the room’s threshold, setting you down softly onto the bed.
“Whaddya need, sweet girl? Water? Some crackers, or somethin’? Bet I could ask the front desk if they got some medicine or anythin’ like that,” Joel asks, sitting on the edge of the bed while you curl up and turn away from him. You do your best not to flinch this time when he decides to comfortingly massage the back of your neck.
“Can you ask, please? It hurts so bad,” you whine, unable to tamp down your shuddering sobs any longer.
“Sure I will, my poor lil’ girl… I’ll be right back, alright?”
Joel pets your hair for a moment, and the gesture would normally flood your belly with lovesick butterflies, but it only feels predatorial now, like a lion trying to convince its prey that it only wants to play, that it won’t be torn to pieces and eaten alive.
Your body finally relaxes when Joel leaves the room, and you count out thirty seconds to hopefully allow him to reach the front office before you make your break. When you whisper the final ‘thirty’ to yourself, you spring out of bed and sprint out the door, almost tripping over your own feet in your race to reach the payphone you’d spotted earlier in the parking lot. You figured that trying to call for help would be a smarter move than running, and you’d never make it far on foot, anyway, not in the flimsy little dress and cheap canvas sneakers you’re wearing. You’d stolen a few quarters out of the truck’s center console while Joel was letting the gas pump, and you shakily deposit them into the slot, nearly dropping them. You punch the numbers 9-1-1 into the keypad, nearly ripping the phone clean off the hook as you bring it up to your ear.
“Come on, come on, come on…” You mutter to yourself, drumming your bitten fingernails against the hard plastic handset as the mocking dial tone trills in your ear.
“911, what is your emergency?” comes a voice on the other line, female.
“Please, I need hel–” but before you can even finish the word, he’s on you, one large hand clapped over your mouth while the other rips the phone out of your hand and slams it back into the receiver. You kick and bite and thrash, but your pitiful attempts at escape do nothing to deter him. After all, his pickup is the only car in the lot, and your room is the only one with a light on. The clerk who checked him in could have never existed at all, for all you know. There’s not a soul around to hear you cry or beg or scream, except for him. You should have known that he would see straight through you, that he would’ve anticipated you getting curious and made sure he was always one step ahead of you. Joel drags you back to the room with a two-handed grasp on your upper arm, gripped onto you hard enough you’re sure his fingertips will leave bruises.
“No, no, no, please! I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, Joel!” You plead, using his first name in a pathetic effort to try to appeal to whatever morality he might have left.
“You stupid fuckin’ bitch…” he spits.
Joel kicks open the door to your room and flings it shut behind him so hard you’re surprised the wood doesn’t shatter, splintering into a million sharp little pieces. He throws you down onto the stained double bed you’ll be sharing tonight, if he doesn’t decide to use the yellowed comforter to wrap your lifeless corpse in later instead. You push yourself up into a sitting position and brace yourself for whatever he’ll do to you for disobeying him, for trying to escape. You’ve never seen this side of him before, never even come close to upsetting him like this in the time that you’ve known him.
“Don’t know who the fuck you were tryin’ to call, but you better get it through that dumb fuckin’ brain of yours that nobody gives a fuck about you anymore except for me, you got that? Cops ain’t gonna do nothin’ about some fuckin’ runaway slut, ‘specially not one who’s got nobody to miss her in the first place. ‘S why you ran away, ‘s why I picked you up… ‘Cause we both know ain’t nobody gonna come lookin’ for you. Wouldn’t be able to find your body even if they did,” he barks at you, a huge paw wrapped in the hair at the base of your skull to keep your gaze trained on him.
“Please, please don’t hurt me! I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I won’t ever do it again, I promise–”
“Y’ know… I saved you from that hell hole, I gave you everything, and this is the fuckin’ thanks I get?!” The low gravel of his voice seems to be coming from somewhere deep and cavernous inside of him. It fills the entire room with a black smoke that penetrates your eardrums and fills your mouth with something bitter.
“I know, I know, I don’t know what I was thinking, I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you–”
“Yeah, I know you weren’t fuckin thinkin’. Dumb fuckin’ cunt.” Joel releases your hair and you collapse in on yourself, beginning to sob all over again. You know it probably makes you look weak in front of him, but you can’t help it as the dread washes over you. You’re on the verge of hyperventilating, wondering if this will be the one mistake that seals your fate, if he’ll let you live long enough to see those aching little imprints on your arm from where he grabbed you bloom into purple-red blotches in the morning. With your eyes shut tight and hot tears streaming down your cheeks, you’re heaving, trying to catch your breath as you release broken little noises that sound like sorry, sorry, sorry. The repeated apology almost resembles some kind of prayer, as if that could save you now.
He lets you run the gamut of your terror for a minute before pinching the bridge of his nose, the calloused pads of his fingers squeezing that angry red scar that adorns it. He expels a heavy sigh and sits beside you on the bed, the springs of the old mattress screeching as they dip with his weight.
“C’mere, babydoll,” he says, quietly now, and you feel too weak to fight him as he pulls you into his lap and helps you to straddle your legs across his thick waist. You can feel his hardening bulge against your core through the thin material of your panties, exposed now by the skirt of your dress riding up and pooling at the creases of your thighs.
“‘S okay, darlin’ I forgive you.” He lets you cry into his shoulder as he shushes you, rocking you side to side and petting the top of your head as if he were soothing a spooked little dog. When you’re able to take deep breaths again, your senses are flooded with his familiar comforting scent. The combination of his natural cologne and the softness of his voice reaches inside some deep corner of your brain that isn’t completely terrorized and disgusted by him, and it’s enough for you to lift your head up to face him again.
“Y-you do?” You squeak out as you sniffle, and Joel wipes away the last of your salty tears with one of his rough thumbs, sucking it into his mouth afterwards. He lets out a soft groan before gripping your jaw so that the fat of your cheeks makes your lips pucker.
“Yeah, babydoll… But why would you try to go off runnin’ like that, hm? Thought you were mine, my girl, thought we understood each other.”
His tone, the furrow in his brows and the slight pout of his lips make you feel guilty, somehow, upset with yourself for making him feel this way, for trying to run from his care and affection. “I-I thought so, too. But then… then I…” you stutter, finding it impossible to speak coherently anymore.
“Then what, babydoll?” Joel prompts calmly, stroking his thumb along your cheek as he squeezes it.
“T-the box… I saw—”
“Yeah… You saw my girls, didn’t you, baby? That’s why you tried to run, ain’t it? Look at me, babydoll.”
Joel jostles your face in his grip, and you obey his command, nodding slowly. When you look into his eyes, you finally notice how dark they’ve become, their usual warm amber color now appearing more red.
“You… you killed her. I-it was you.”
“Which one’re you talkin’ about, baby? Collected a lotta girls over the years, lose track of ‘em after a while.”
Your stomach churns at his callousness. “R-Ruby… I saw h-her. Y-you… you were…” You can’t bring yourself to finish your sentence, your words interrupted by your hiccuping breaths.
“Oh, Ruby…” Joel shifts his hips into yours, a growl rumbling from deep in his chest as he closes his eyes for a moment, turning over her name on his tongue. “Yeah… She was a pretty thing, wasn’t she? Feisty one, though. ‘Bout broke my goddamn nose. Wasn’t gonna be so rough with her, but… she practically asked for it.” He brushes his finger across the scar on his face, and your eyes well up again when you make the connection. “What else did you see, hm? Talk t’ me about it, babydoll.” Even through his jeans, you can feel that he’s fully hard now, turned on at the prospect of reliving those gruesome scenes.
Nauseating visions of the polaroids flash across your memory—the girl bleeding from the back of her head, the one with the cut throat, the one with her neck bent at an unnatural angle. “No, please don’t make me…” you shake your head at him, your bottom lip trembling as you fight back more stinging tears.
Joel releases his hold on your face in favor of giving your cheek a harsh smack. “Wasn’t a fuckin’ question, girl.”
You use his loosened grip as an opportunity to try to scramble out of his lap, hitting your hands against his chest as you try to push off the bed and get back onto your feet.
“Nuh-uh, I don’t think so. Quit fuckin’ strugglin’.”
He’s got you flipped onto your back in a second, with your legs dangling off the edge of the bed. He stands between your parted thighs, and you look up at him through blurred vision, one of his strong hands now attempting to cut off the blood supply to your brain as he uses the other to free his thick cock from his jeans. His teeth are bared, and the look in his eyes is faraway, as if the Joel you thought you knew is somewhere else entirely, miles away from this dingy motel room off the side of the freeway. He’s long gone now, replaced by this monstrous version of him that you don’t recognize.
“Keep fightin’, see what fuckin’ happens… I’d take the prettiest photos of you, y’ know that? Add you to my lil’ collection, have no choice but to be mine forever… You’d fit right in, babydoll, this perfect fuckin’ body.”
He slides a hand up and down his leaking shaft as he rambles, and it’s impossible to deny how much it excites him, talking about his killing, his ritual.
“Wasn’t plannin’ on it, promised myself I’d be done after the last one but—fuck—just can’t fuckin’ stop myself. ‘S just so goddamn easy,” Joel hisses through his teeth. His hand never leaves your neck as he flips up the skirt of your dress and yanks your ashamedly damp panties down your trembling legs. He flings them haphazardly onto a discolored patch of carpet in the corner of the room, and it makes you wince, imagining how he must’ve disposed of so many other girls before you in the same careless manner.
As hopeless as it seems now, you won’t be one of them. You don’t have any other choice, you have to make it out of this alive, you have to do something.
“W-what… what is?” You manage to choke out.
Joel looks down at you, almost startled, as if you’re an inanimate object speaking to him, like he didn’t expect you to have a voice.
“Huh?”
“Y-you said… it’s so easy. What’s easy?”
He licks his lips as he thinks on his response, a sickly smile tugging at the corners. “Pickin’ up a pretty slut nobody’s gonna miss, takin’ her home with me and turnin’ her fuckin’ lights out. They practically do it to themselves with all their strugglin’ and bitin’ and scratchin’, just want ‘em to fuckin’—unh—behave.”
You whine as he pushes his tip inside your little hole, but try to maintain your composure. You think you understand now, why he’s acting this way. He wants you to want to be with him, and it triggers some kind of deepset anger inside of him when you fight, when you run, when you throw his affection back in his face. Killing the girls might not even be his end goal, at least not when he first takes them, more like an inevitable side effect of what happens when they try to escape his captivity and he feels rejected, hurt, tossed aside. And then he lashes out. And then they die. And then the cycle repeats. You’d lasted this long because you’d been the first to not reject his advances, because he’d seen himself in you.
If you don’t fight, if you can keep him talking, if you can convince him that this is what you want, you might have a chance at survival. It’s not much of a strategy, but it’s something, and it’s better than giving up.
“How… how do you d-do it?” you ask, a little less rasp in your voice as his grip on your throat begins to loosen, but his hand never leaves it entirely. He slides the rest of his cock inside you as you stutter out your question, and he laughs.
“You sure you wanna hear it, babydoll? Might be a bit much for you.” He’s fully seated inside you now, and the stretch of him burns. Even though the two of you have been fucking like bunnies practically every day since you’ve met, you can only fight against your body so much, and the fear you’re trying desperately not to clue him into is making every one of your muscles tighten around him.
“No! No, I-I wanna know. Tell me, please…” You bat your eyelashes up at him for good measure, and his canine grin widens some more.
“God, y’ really are just as fucked up as I am, huh? ‘S why I kept you around, ‘cause you’re like me…” He begins to piston his thick length in and out of you, affectionately tucking a lock of hair behind your ear with his free hand as he does. The other one constricts your airflow once again, and you stifle a whimper, suppressing the urge to argue and spit back that you’re not like him. “Usually strangle ‘em, little throats always fit so perfectly in my hands, jus’ like this…”
His voice trails off as he shoves into you harder, picking up his pace. Your breathing becomes broken and frantic as you claw through the black cloud closing in on your vision in your effort to keep him talking. “And then what?” you squeak out.
“Squeeze ‘em, real hard and slow,” Joel growls. “Try not to come in my jeans just from the pathetic lil’ sounds they make when they’re prayin’ to God to save ‘em. Ain’t so gentle with ‘em if they put up too much of a fight, though. Jus’ gotta cut the shit sometimes, slice ‘em open or split their fuckin’ skulls just to make ‘em stop. God, you’d never believe the amount of blood a lil’ girl like you’s got in ‘em.” He’s slamming his hips into your sore cunt now, both hands wrapped tightly around your neck as he uses it for leverage. You feel your muscles begin to slacken, either from the lack of oxygen or from his just-right strokes against that little spot deep inside, you can’t be sure. It was just a survival instinct, you’ll tell yourself in the morning.
“Yeah? It’s… it’s a lot?” you prompt, skin feeling tingly and voice coming out hoarse, sounding like it had come from somewhere else other than your own body. It could’ve just been the wind, a tractor-trailer whistling by outside.
“Yeah, ‘s a lot. Bleed so fuckin’ much, y’ think it might never stop. Just keeps—fuck—comin’...”
Joel’s voice breaks on the telltale word, his thrusts becoming frenzied and disjointed as he nears his release. A few high-pitched moans manage to squeeze past your compressed vocal chords, and they’re half-genuine, half-forced as a means to spur him on and speed up the process. The stretches of skin between his thumbs and forefingers are pressing down, down, down against your windpipe, and you plead with him as coherently as possible in your race against that darkness threatening to swallow you whole.
“C-come, Joel, p-please, want you to—”
“Shut up, babydoll. Fuck… Eyes on me, c’mon,” he orders, shaking you by the neck to wake you up a bit, prevent your eyes from closing all the way. “Look at me. Just… lay fuckin’ still, don’t make a sound. Hold your goddamn breath, okay? Don’t even fuckin’ blink.”
He’s never demanded something like this before, but you aren’t exactly in a position to disobey. You do as he asks, and some of it comes involuntarily, anyway. With your hands laid at your sides, eyes looking into Joel’s own but somehow past them, unblinking, your mouth slack and lungs paralyzed, you almost feel like…
Like one of them.
“Tha’s it, fuck, fuck, fuck,” he chants to himself, rutting into your limp body with abandon as he chases his high. You can’t help but let another tear slip past your lashes, and he doesn’t wipe it away this time.
A few more bruising pulses of his cock later, and all the blood rushes back into your head at once as Joel lets go of his vice grip around your neck, collapsing on top of your still form and breathing heavily into the damp skin of your neck where your wet tears have collected. He stays like that for a while, still slotted inside you, and you let him come back into himself for as long as he needs, not daring to move a muscle until he permits you to do so.
Joel slides himself out of your leaking hole when he’s finally caught his breath, grunting as he pushes himself up off the bed and runs a hand through his sweat-damp hair. He studies your abused form, then tuts when he notices the marks he left around your throat.
“Better make sure you wear your hair down tomorrow, I reckon. Got a decent record of keepin’ the law off my ass, I’d rather keep it that way.”
Tomorrow. He plans on letting you live. Until then, anyway.
“Okay,” you agree quietly.
Joel doesn’t let you out of his sight again for the rest of the evening. He’d helped you up off the bed and into the shower, where he’d cleaned both of your bodies and scrubbed the dried tears and sweat from your skin. He’d sunk his claws into your scalp as he washed your hair under the scalding water, and you wondered if the suds could carry even the intangible filth down the drain with it—the guilt, the fear, the defeat, the violation. You almost wish you hadn’t looked in the box at all. What difference would it have made, if you’d stayed with him in ignorance? Those girls are still dead. It’s not like you can save them now. You couldn’t even save yourself.
Joel changes you into one of his large t-shirts for you to sleep in tonight, instead of a frilly nightgown or something else short and revealing that he’d usually pick out for you. You suppose that the choice of clothing acts as a more visible representation of his ownership over you. He’s marking his territory, scenting you like a dog. Like you’re his bitch.
Joel holds you suffocatingly close to him in bed that night, his arms wrapped around you so tightly that it’s difficult for your ribs to expand. He keeps one hand possessively wrapped around the column of your neck, not squeezing, just to remind you what he’s capable of. As if you could ever forget.
“Y’know what, babydoll? I think we could be partners, you and I,” Joel says in a slow, gravelly voice, right next to your ear.
“W-what do you mean?” You whisper back into the darkness.
“I just… I tried to quit, y’ know, but I don’t think I can. I don’t want to. Too damn old and slow to keep chasin’ after ‘em anymore, but… ‘f I keep you around, you’d just make the perfect bait, wouldn’t you? That pretty face, sweet lil’ smile, you could lure ‘em straight to me, they’d never see it comin’.”
“See… what coming?”
“My hands. The knife. A fuckin’ rock. Whatever, ‘s up to them.”
His words linger in the air, and you know you should say something, but how could you possibly respond to what he’s asking of you?
“You want me to… to kill—”
“No, no, ‘course not, babydoll. Wouldn’t even have to be in the room while it’s happenin’, would never ask my sweet girl to get her hands dirty like that. Jus’ gotta bring ‘em to me, tha’s all. Maybe go after ‘em if they try to run. I mean… you’d rather it be them than you, wouldn’t you sweetheart?” Joel’s hand closes in around your throat, and you understand now what he’s offering you—a deal. Your life in exchange for helping him grow his collection of victims, helping him satisfy his urges. He’s made you feel indebted to him, like you owe him something in exchange for letting you live tonight. He thinks he’s found something special in you, a victim who finally can’t run away from him, who won’t, now. There’s enough of a connection still here, although held together by fear, that he knows you won’t try escaping again. Because he saved you, the first time from starving on the side of the road, the second time from himself. And you owe him your life, now, in some form or another.
You only nod against the pillow, but it seems to be enough for him.
Joel kisses the back of your head, breathing in the smell of your hair. “I love you, babydoll.”
His fingers press harder against your arteries, making it clear that you have no choice but to respond with what he wants to hear.
“I love you too, Joel.”
The words are still true, you think, somehow. But it just feels like you’re saying them to a stranger now.
You wish you would’ve listened to the one useful thing your mother had ever told you—not to talk to strangers, or you might fall in love.
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#my writing#joel miller#joel miller x reader#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller x you#the last of us fanfiction#tlou fanfiction#joel miller smut#dark!joel miller#dark!joel x reader
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Pls do something with peacekeeper!Coriolanus I have yet to see anyone do that trope + I feel like he’s more mean and protective in that era
mastermind |peacekeeper!coriolanus snow x capitol!reader|
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prompt: based off above prompt, but wanted to tweak it a teeny tiny bit so this is how coriolanus meets capitol!reader. the plot of the original film is altered a little to fit this.
contains: tw- violence, guns, shooting. dark, protective, manipulative coriolanus. not super heavy, but there are some kinda darkish themes so read at your own discretion.
“Snow,” Commander Hoff’s gruff voice rang through the doorway, hitting Coriolanous head on, his heart lurching with fear. They found out about Lucy Gray, that she’d escaped after Mayfair and Billy’s death. Or maybe worse, maybe she hadn’t headed north, maybe she’d told them.
His mind raced as he took a step forward, helmet in hand respectfully, hoping Hoff wouldn’t see the way his hands trembled. “Commander, Sir.” Snow held his head high. If this was to be the end, he wouldn’t go out crying. Not like Sejanus- no, Corio would have pride.
Hoff set the papers down on his desk with a huff, head jerking back for Coriolanus to come towards him. “Snow, I need you to escort Miss Duke to the Mayor’s office.” He nodded towards the corner. “I guess with the recent tragedy of his daughter, Mayor Mayfield’s mind has been elsewhere. He didn’t get his quarterly tesserae count turned in. The Capitol sent Miss Duke to get them, so make sure she gets there.”
Coriolanus’ eyes wandered to you, standing in the corner properly, hands clasped elegantly in front of you. A shining beacon in the dark skies of the coal country, a glimmering ray of good after all the bad Corio had. He could tell you were from The Capitol, though you tried to dress more humbly for the visit to the district, he supposed.
You gave him a smile, and for a moment, Corio’s heart leapt with excitement. That familiar rush of heat returning, coursing through his chest. “Private Snow will take you there, Miss Duke. He’s one of our best. On his way to officer training in Two. You’re in good hands.” Commander Hoff nodded.
You thanked him quietly, kitten heels clicking across the hardwood floors. Coriolanus followed you, trying to keep his stoic expression, though his eyes wandered to the swell of your ass, hugged perfectly in your dress.
“Snow,” Commander Hoff called before he left. “A word?”
The icy chill of fear flooded back into Corio’s system, gripping the knob. You didn’t seem to notice, nodding politely, shutting the door behind you.
“Sir?” Coriolanus swallowed the lump in his throat, approaching the desk slowly.
Hoff leaned back in his chair. “You know who that is, right?”
Coriolanus blinked. His mind had been so occupied with his impending doom, his fate had seemed to turn and tread on the worst sides of things, he was so sure it would continue. “Miss Duke?”
Hoff blinked at him, laughing softly. “Yeah, Duke, Snow.” He pressed. Coriolanus felt dumb, small like he did when he talked to Highbottom. “Snow, does the name Atticus Duke mean anything to you?”
Coriolanus' eyes widened lightly, turning towards the door in surprise. “Atticus Duke? The-”
“-The man who owns half of Panem?” Hoff snorted lightly. “Yeah, that’s his youngest out there. Only girl, alright?”
Coriolanus felt his curiosity peek. He’d been wallowing in the loss of Lucy Gray, he didn’t even put it together. Thinking you were just another Capitol girl. Not the Duke Heiress.
“Yes, sir. I-I see that now.” Corio nodded dumbly.
“Good. So you know that her father paid for the destruction of the rebellion? That he funded the Capitol? And that if these people see her, those fucking Rebels are likely to want to hurt her?” Hoff pressed, his eyes narrowed in seriousness. “And that if something happens to her, our entire platoon will be hanging from that tree- or worse?”
It shouldn’t have made Coriolanus as excited as he was. The thought of having that much power. He could easily have that level of control, have people quaking with fear- even the powerful ones, trembling at his feet the way Atticus Duke did. Oh, how he envied it. How he craved it.
“Yes, sir.” Coriolanus nodded.
“Snow, listen to me.” Hoff sat up straight, leaning over the desk. “If any of them get close to her, no mercy- do you understand?”
Coriolanus nodded again, spine straightening with authority. “I have others trailing and leading the both of you- crowd control, but I wanted her to feel safe. Feel welcome. So I stuck her with you. Figured a familiar face from the Capitol would put her at some ease. Keep her from telling her father something that would have him questioning my rank and order around here.”
“I understand, Commander.” Coriolanus said firmly. “I’ll keep her safe.”
“Wow,” You muttered, looking around the cobbled street. The Peacekeepers ahead of you barking orders, scaring off any pedestrians wandering about. “Is it always like this?”
Corio blinked, his gun cradled in his hand, finger on the trigger- ready. “Always like what?”
“This,” You waved around you. “It’s very…”
“Depressing?” Corio muttered, a grumble, eyes scanning the perimeter in front of him over the gray skies and smog filled air.
“Yeah.” You smiled softly. “I pictured it… prettier?”
“It’s the coal district, Miss Duke.” Coriolanus said, the barrel of his gun pointed for backup at a scurrying coal miner.
“So that’s what makes it so sad?” You challenged, brow raised.
Corio didn’t answer. He knew what you were implying, and he wouldn’t humor it. Instead, his eyes scanned the street. “May I ask why you’re here?” You asked, tilting your head to the side.
“What?” Corio snapped, harsher than he meant to.
“Why you’re here?” You repeated. “I, uh, I don’t want to sound rude. I just- I saw you on the games. You were the mentor who won. I just, I figured you would be at University with the others.”
“I made an enemy. A powerful one.” Corio quipped shortly, jaw set. He couldn’t let his mind race and spiral, not now. He needed to stay focused.
“Oh,” You muttered, looking down at the wet, broken road. “I’m sorry.”
Corio’s heart skipped, maybe with joy, maybe with fear. “May I ask you why you’re here?” Coriolanus asked, eyes cutting down towards you.
“I have to get the count for the tesserae.” You motioned towards the Mayor’s office before you. “I have to take them back to The Capitol.”
“Yes, but,” Corio paused, scanning the area. “You’re- Surely, you don’t need to do that, Miss Duke.” He muttered, voice dropping to a low octave.
You blushed, sheepishly looking towards your shoes, ruined from the muck in the road. “So, Commander Hoff briefed you on me?” You grinned.
Coriolanus didn’t answer. “I already knew.” He lied easily, eyes cutting to you. “We’ve met before. In passing. I was Sejanus’ friend.”
“Oh,” Your face fell. “Right. I-I am so sorry for your loss. It was-”
“-Yes.” Corio nodded, the bile rising in his throat. “We-We met at the Academy’s Ball two springs ago.”
You turned, looking at him fully for the first time. He tried not to blush, icy eyes meeting your own for a moment. “That’s right.” You grinned. “You-You had longer hair. Tigris’ cousin?”
“Yes.” Coriolanus nodded.
“She was apprenticing for my aunt.” You smiled softly.
Corio looked at you, his rigid posture slacking just for a moment, relaxing in your presence. “Why aren’t you doing something like that?” He asked, brows furrowing for a moment. “Or in University, yourself. Surely that would be… more appropriate than this.”
You bit back a smile, chin ducking down. “Maybe.” You shrugged. “I like this job, though. I get to see the Districts.”
“Why would you ever want to do that?” Corio snarled lightly. “I can’t wait to get out of them. Get away from these people.” He muttered bitterly.
You blinked at him, eyes narrowing lightly, stopping before the steps of the Mayor’s building. “You seemed quite fond of that song bird you helped win.” You countered. “And she was among these people.”
Coriolanus was stunned, mouth opening stupidly, before swallowing his jumbled words. Instead, he offered you his arm politely for you to steady yourself on while you climbed the steps to the Mayor’s office.
Coriolanus waited outside the office at attention while you collected the tesseraes for the quarter from a distraught, and clearly drunken, Mayor Mayfield. His slurred speech, pores sweating out whiskey soaked odor.
You took the envelope, thanking him before quickly slipping out. Coriolanus stood beside you, falling back into step with you, the other Peacekeepers joining around the two of you.
“You’re returning to The Capitol today?” Corio asked, though his eyes stayed straight ahead.
“They asked me to stay the night.” You answered simply. “Something about a train leaving in the morning?” You looked at him carefully. You knew he was to join you with the others. You’d given the orders from Dr. Gaul to Commander Hoff that morning.
Coriolanus frowned, turning to you curiously. “Tomorrow? Why would they make you-”
The ravenous bark of Peacekeepers in front of you made you jump, a deranged looking man, covered in soot from the mines, charging at you with a vengeful pace. You froze, clutching the envelope in front of you like a shield, glued to the concrete in pure fear.
“Gimme that envelope, you stupid bitch!” The man roared, mere feet away from you. “Get my daughter’s name outta there! Take it out!”
You flinched, bracing for the impact of him hitting you, his body hurling towards yours. It never came. Instead, a shot behind you had a gasp tearing from your lungs. The bullet so close to your own head, you heard it whizzing past you like the June Bugs that flew in the fields in the countryside of the district.
The man grunted, a bloody gurgle, a crimson patch seeping through his stomach. The other Peacekeepers seized him, shouting and grabbing at him, hauling him away roughly. Your hand trembled, pressing to your lips. Coriolanus stood behind you, gun lowering, finger still on the trigger.
His face was hard, stoic, eyes narrowed dangerously- furiously. “Come on.” Coriolanus muttered, a hand gently on your back, guiding you forwards. The crowds were peering, poking around at the sound of gunshots, the groans and screams of the man. “We need to get you to the Commander’s Quarters.”
“Snow, hey, look we-we didn’t see him-” One Peacekeeper jogged frantically, hands trembling in fear. “He just- He came out of nowhere. I’m so sorry, Miss.”
“It’s alrig-”
“-Come on.” Coriolanus hissed, cutting your apology off short. “We need to get her back quickly. Can you manage that?” He snapped at the other boy.
The other boy faltered for a moment, scrambling back into line. You were still shaking, pushed into Corio’s side far closer than what would be appropriate for two strangers. “He-He was just saying sorry.” You muttered, your own eyes scanning around you.
“He nearly got you killed.” Coriolanus snapped, his eyes hard but they never met your gaze, scanning around you protectively. “His carelessness nearly cost you your life.” Cost us all our lives, Corio thought.
You didn’t respond, only stepping with his quickened pace.
“Are you alright?” You asked Coriolanus, peeking around the corner of the train station towards him.
He was surprised to see you, though he supposed he shouldn’t have been. He assumed the ‘Princess of Panem’ would have her own private carriage on the train, not subjected to riding with him.
“I think I’m supposed to ask you that.” Corio gave a half smile, a tone much lighter than it was before.
You blushed, looking down. “I’m alright.” You sighed lightly. “I told your Commander that. I promise I don’t need an escort back to The Capitol.”
Coriolanus looked down at his bags. “I’m not- I’m returning to The Capitol as well.” He said, chest boasting at the words.
“Oh?” You lifted a brow. “No District Two?”
“No,” Corio shook his head. “I’ve been asked to return.” It was vague, and he knew it- knew it piqued your interest.
“Well, congratulations. I’m sure your family will be excited.” You smiled politely, lifting your own overnight bag when the train doors opened.
“Here,” Coriolanus stopped you, reaching for the strap of the bags. Your hands brushed in the smallest way. Overlapping as he took the bag politely, a surge of electricity jolted between both of you, rapid sparks that would crescendo in the days, weeks, years to come.
You blushed, turning your head to hide the way it flustered you. It was so embarrassingly juvenile, his eyes sparkling, lips tugging in a grin when he looked at you, pinky grazing over your knuckle just for a moment before he held the bag.
“Allow me.” Coriolanus was smug, proud, pulling the bag up. He let you on first, placing the bags away, eyes cutting towards you. You were stealing a glance at him, turning after being caught sheepishly.
You had the window seat, looking out at the smoggy station. “Is this seat taken?” Corio asked, hand resting on the arm of the seat next to you.
You shook your head, moving your hands to your lap. You were so poised, Corio knew it had been drilled into your head since you were young, just as it was to him. His mind raced with excitement, the idea of getting you to be so improper, defile you.
“Do you know your orders once you return?” You asked, looking at him carefully. The trains whistle trilling in the background.
“I’m not sure.” It was a complete lie, he only knew a fraction of what awaited him when he returned. All the more reason he needed an ally, a powerful one at that.
“Why?” Corio pressed, leaning forward to look at you. His dog tags hung loosely around his neck, draping over his underclothes of his uniform. It made your heart race.
“I was just curious.” You shrugged, swallowing gently.
“You were wanting to see me again?” Corio pressed, boldly. His heart skipped when you whipped around, staring at him with a wide eyed expression.
“W-What?” You choked out, trying to remain calm, composed, but your heart was beating so fastly you were sure it would burst.
“Were you wanting to see me again?” Coriolanus hummed, shifting in his seat to turn towards you. You were pressed against the glass, pinned by his gaze. “Because I was hoping to see you again. If you’d have me.”
“You would?” You squeaked, sure that your fluster was apparent all over your face.
“If you’d let me.” Corio purred smoothly. “I’d like to take you out sometime. Get to know you better. I’m very,” His fingers brushed over your own hand, satisfied at how you shuddered. “Interested in getting to know you.”
You swallowed. No man had ever been so direct with you. He’d saved you the night before, so effortlessly. The feeling of his bicep around you, shielding you away, strong and steady. It had you sneaking your fingers between your thighs later that night shamefully at the thought.
“I-I would like that.” You nodded, mind screaming when his hand held your, cradled with such care, you almost forgot how brutal he was yesterday.
“Tomorrow?” Coriolanus asked, head tilting to the side. He wanted to set the date before you forgot, before you had time to ask around about him or think too much about his actions before.
“That-That would be lovely.” You nodded, tongue swelling thickly in your mouth, heart hammering as he pushed closer and closer.
His hand cradled your jaw softly, thumb stroking over your cheek bone. “May I?” Corio hummed, eyes lustful.
You nodded. You weren’t quite sure why, you’d certainly never done something like this before. But then his lips were on you, hand cradling your jaw, moving to the back of your head gently. He migrated into your chair, somewhere between the Districts, hands on your back, pulling you in closer and closer. He kissed you like a man starved, possessively and passionately all at once- it made your head spin.
It dawned on Coriolanus, what Dr. Gaul was talking about. Sacrifice, while brutal, was necessary. Losing Lucy Gray, Sejanus, without that would it have ever brought you to him? He would be in the woods, starving with a girl who nearly used him to survive, or hanging from a tree next to Sejanus. Certainly not sitting side by side in the train car, stealing small smiles and gentle kisses with you. His fate had turned, re-routed and he could see it now- his future, his empire with you.
#coriolanus snow#coriolanus snow smut#coriolanus snow x reader#coriolanus snow x you#the ballad of songbirds and snakes#coriolanus snow fic#coriolanus snow x oc#tbosas#coriolanus snow imagine#coriolanus x reader#peacekeeper!coriolanus snow x reader#peacekeeper!coriolanus snow#sejanus plinth#coriolanus snow x female!reader#coriolanus snow x capitol!reader#coriolanus snow x fem!reader#tbosbas x reader#tbosas x reader#tbosbas fic#tbosbas fanfiction#tbosbas#lucy gray baird#the hunger games#coriolanus x you#coriolanus snow fanfiction#coryo snow#president snow#hunger games#lucy gray#coriolanus snow x you smut
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Brothers & First times!
How the brothers react the first (or firsts) times having sex with MC.
Warnings: sex talk,not outright sex though. Tears, emotional baggage, trauma talk, deep emotional scars.
Respectfully and with a hand in my heart and the other in between my legs:
Lucifer is there, visibly he is enjoying himself and having a good time but in the back of his head he is freaking the fuck out because he feels so good and this is so new to him since he never fucked with anyone he loved, let alone someone he adores this much and who wanted to be with him just as much. Every touch, gasp of moan makes him smile as it brings him back to the moment, not too focused on saving this moment on his mind forever but rightfully leaning into savoring every detail and passing second.
Contrary to popular belief, Mammon is a performer and loves to make an act to enjoy himself and to lure his partner to like him always a little more. He has fun while pouring out his love in every touch, whispering sweet words and expecting the same. But! When he is basking in the afterglow,he gasps and yelps as he sits on the bed. He is freaking out in the best way possible, jumping around and biting his nails as his over excitement makes him whisper 'lord' 'can't believe it happened' 'they came? THEY CAME?!?' And is overall super sweet until MC calms him down. He talks after that,he has to talk after having sex otherwise it doesn't feel as intimate for him.
Leviathan will cry the first five times he has sex with MC, not out of pain but because he can't believe he gets to feel them skin by skin and he loves them so much. His emotions are all over the place along with his hands and mouth, bites, kisses, scratches, everything he has he is willing to give now. He is a little awkward,his legs tangle with MC's and his elbow is pressing on their ribcage making it painful but it's fine! It's slow, unsteady and fun just like him and as long as the both of them are enjoying it and are available for cuddles after,he will always be fine.
Resident cat lover Satan is one who enjoys what he never got to experience before,he loves tenderness and gentle touches, strokes that are measured and well thought as well as sweet words that blur the line between loving and seductive. He is a thoughtful lover, one that enjoys to litter kisses on every spot he can, the type to whimper at the exchanged looks of fondness and pleasure. As gentle as he wants to be, he freaks out so much at the thought of hurting MC that he is painfully slow and steady, always too measured and focused to let himself let loose a bit. Satan loves to seduce but is whiny and timid when he sees MC's bare skin so his most shameful moments will happen on the seclude of each of their rooms.
Asmodeus is very nice and sweet when it's his and MC's first time, he thought of it a long time ago, every detail was taken care of for them to have a pleasant time yet he is so giddy, excited and eager that they spend their foreplay in ligering touches, deep kisses and silly inside jokes that end up marking a before and after in their relationship. He is loving and experienced but doesn't pull out the big movements to enjoy this as simple and romantic as it can be. Much unlike his brothers,he has meditated before to keep his chill and enjoy the moment without freaking out every passing second.
The need to bed MC is bigger than himself, Beelzebub is tired of pretending to walk around, trying to see if he can get something, pacing around his thoughts and ruffling his own hair when his overthinking is too much to bare so, when the time comes, he is doing everything in his power and knowledge to please his partner. Rough clumsy hands that unbutton jeans quickly are the same that caress their bare skin so tenderly. His utter gentleness contrasts with his looks, with his furrowed brows and twitching lip that wants to nibble and suck every spot he sees. Just on this very moment of intimacy,he is vocal with everything, with how good he feels and how pounding into them is like being sent to heaven again.
Belphegor is sloppy but eager, he is calm about having sex with MC because he knew sometime it will came down to it but as soon as he is touched, as he feels the warmth of their skin on his, he is whining and asking for reassurance. The guilt of having hurt them before still weighs on him and he needs to have a talk prior and afterwards about if there are any boundaries, actions or anything that can or can't be performed. Behind his usually playful and witty self, Belphegor is unsure of his own desires if they ever come to have more weight for him than MC's own desires, never before he has loved like this and he believes that while sex isn't abnormal it shouldn't be taken so lightly. He wants love and to make them feel loved, nothing on his life was ever been this good and he wants to preserve it and seal it for the first time in a very slow and gentle way.
#i am back hello :D#patting my own back#obey me!#obey me leviathan x reader#obey me lucifer x reader#obey me mammon x reader#obey me satan x reader#obey me asmo x reader#obey me beel x reader#obey me belphie x reader#obey me#obey me shall we date#obey me headcanons#obey me imagines#obey me scenarios#obey me mc#obey me lucifer#obey me mammon#obey me belphegor#obey me asmodeus#obey me satan#obey me beelzebub#obey me belphie#obey me! shall we date?
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CORPORATE ESPIONAGE.
synopsis: in a world where vampires run powerful corporations, satoru gojo is a high-ranking ceo and a highly respected vampire. you, working for his rival corporation, are sent to infiltrate satoru's company and steal valuable secrets. it didn’t take long for him for to catch you, and he’s not gonna let you go so easily.
warnings: vampire satoru x black reader, enemies to lovers kinda? vampires use compulsion, wall sex, office sex, eater toru
——-
“You want me to what?”
You manage to break the demeaning silence in your boss’s dimly lit office with your sharp voice. Your breath was erratic, almost enraged by the words that had just come out of his mouth. The fucking audacity to even ask this of you.
He groans, shaking his head as he buries his hands in them, “Spy on Kisetsu no Bi.”
Oh. So, you weren’t hearing things. He really expects you to do this- spy on the rival company. Isn’t that a crime somewhere? This is illegal, right? I mean, what kind of boss even asks this of their highest-paid employee? No. No way.
“If this wasn’t important, I wouldn’t have asked- especially because I know how much effort you put in-”
You scoff, “So, this is the thanks I get? A crazy request to do something illegal? I’m not a fucking-”
“This isn’t a request, ( ♥︎ ). It’s either you do it, or you’re out of a job; that’s final.” His voice gets lower in pitch, and you don’t even flinch when he slams his hands on the table, baring his fangs at you in a chilling hiss.
You stay in your spot by the door and allow the silence to simmer. He should know better than to raise his voice at you, even if he were your boss. His heavy breathing was all that could be heard. When he saw the furious expression on your face, he quickly sat back in his chair. Realizing this was not the right approach, he attempted to find another angle.
He clears his throat, “My bad, that was rude. I deeply respect you ( ♥︎ ), and you’re among the few people I trust. That’s why I’m asking for your help with this, for this company.”
You still don’t say a word, but at least a thousand thoughts are circling in your pretty head. Even so, you move slowly towards the chair in front of his table and sit down, crossing one of your brown legs over the other. You adjust your white blouse, covering the accidental peak of your black bra. A slight shift of your head lets him know that you are listening.
He grumbles, eyes trying to stay focused on your face and not your plump body, “You know our rival company is owned by a man named Satoru Gojo. We have always been second to that arrogant bastard, but if we—”
“By which you mean me.”
You watch Toji roll his eyes, “If you could find something, anything that could ruin him, it’ll finally put us on top.”
It sounds reasonable- to a large extent, but could you even get away with this? What if you get caught? What if the media covers this? Could it ruin you?. It’ll plummet this company to the ground. Though Toji may be second right now, he’s still highly respected, even overseas. Almost on the level Satoru is.
“Why don’t you hire a professional? Someone who actually knows how to do this might work better in your favor.” You mutter out.
At this point, you’ll create any excuse to get out of this.
“Everyone knows who I am, you can’t trust anyone to not spread it to the media- no matter how much you pay them.”
“Won’t he know who I am? I mean, I’ve worked here for like 4 years.”
A tired smile graces his face, “You work from home, sweetheart. You only come in once every month, 3 weeks if I’m lucky.”
“What if I get caught? Respectfully, this is insane, Mr. Fushiguro.” Your face twists into an exasperated expression. You didn’t sign up to be no damn spy.
A loud groan breaks you out of your thoughts, “Christ, I’ll triple your pay. Whether you get the job done or fail, you’ll be compensated for it.” There it is. Suddenly, doing this job didn’t sound too horrible. You try to fight the smile on glossed lips, but your boss can see right through you.
“Yeah? I should’ve started with that.” He chuckles.
This time, you roll your eyes, “Whatever. Quadruple it for raising your grown man voice at me.”
“Sure. You’re obviously going under a different name. I have your documents right here, and they contain everything you’ll need.” You watch him pull out a thick folder from under his desk.
When he hands it to you, you’re more than surprised at how much he put into this. There’s a fat document that explains your entire new persona. …Kami Smith? Really? There’s a fake Id, he even went got you a fucking passport. How long did he plan to drag this out? “Maybe change your hair a little bit, you never know if someone might recognize you anyway.”
“I change my hair every week, Mr. Fushiguro. How am I even gonna get a job there?”
He hums, pretending to ponder over your question, “You’re a pretty girl. Don’t get pissed, but apart from how smart you are, it’s the reason you got a job here.”
You narrow your eyes, and he winces, noticing immediately, “I said not to get pissed.”
“Is that all, boss?” You rise from your seat, ignoring his words. With another roll of your eyes, the yellow folder is clutched tightly in your left hand.
Though you want to pretend you’re thinking this over, you know you have no choice but to go through with this. At least you’ll be getting paid, and you don’t have much of a social life to worry about being on the media anyway. You just really hope you don’t go to court over this.
“That’s all, ( ♥︎ ). Be careful, yeah?” Toji jerks his head over to you, though subtle, genuine concern covering his features. It makes you smile, feel giddy even. Sue you for thinking your boss is hot.
You give him a pretty smile and a nod. Toji listens as your kitten heels clack on his tile floors, his eyes never once leaving your frame in that tight pencil skirt. He hates to see you go, but he loves to watch you leave.
He snaps his head up when your voice calls out once more, “Have a good night, Mr. Fushiguro.”
And with the soft click of his door, he’s alone in his office again. He huffs out a breath, spewing curses under his breath, when he accidentally nicks his lower lip on his sharp fang. “Damn.”
——
It turns out your boss was right. You are a pretty girl. Therefore, it didn’t take long for you to get an interview at his rival company, 2 days to be exact. You were rather impressionable, too, so much so that Satoru wanted to interview you himself.
Nervous was an understatement. Could you really pull this off? You never had a liking for Satoru. He was arrogant, self-centered, and a womanizer if the headlines weren’t so obsessed with him. You never met him, but you’ve seen enough online interviews for you to absolutely hate his personality.
His best friend and partner company is more tolerable, though. Even though he looks aloof and nonchalant, you could tell he’s just as arrogant - maybe even more than his white-haired companion. You pretended not to notice his piercing gaze the entire time you walked past him to the elevator, the one leading straight to the top of the skyscraper.
Your outfit was nothing short of professional— a tight dark grey skirt encompassing your wide hips and your burgundy Hermes Porosus bag hanging on the shoulder of your cream silk blouse. Your rouge heels clack on the tile floor with each step you take to the large white office, which the receptionist told you was at the end of the hall.
You lift your soft hands into a fist, and right before you’re about to knock, the door swings open. And lo and behold, there he is.
Satoru Gojo, in all his glory.
The top two buttons of his dress shirt are loose, and you have to fight for your eyes not to waver down to sneak a glance at his porcelain chest. He was attractive, you’re not stupid enough to try and deny that. His eyes had a pretty crystalline glow. They were penetrating- you felt like he knew everything about you with just one look. His hair was frosty, and it looked so... soft.
It was quick, a heated vision of your fingers running through them, tugging and—
“Enjoying the view, angel?”
You blink quickly, snapping your eyes away from his face when you cause a smirking dancing across his lips. Great, he caught you staring. “No. I’m here for our interview, for the job?”
His grin widens, and with a snicker, you hear, “You sure? Could’ve sworn you were drooling a bit there.”
“I was not.” You snap.
Satoru hums, obviously unconvinced, “You’re Kami, hm?”
Your loose curls shake as you nod. It was impossible not to notice- or overanalyze- the way he spoke. Almost like he was doubtful or suspicious of you even. Maybe you’re just overthinking it. There’s no way he already suspects you. Part of you thinks you’re also nodding to convince yourself of your inner turmoil.
He opens the door a little to let you in. An electric surge flows through your body when your arms graze his shoulder because he simply won’t budge until you completely come inside. He leads you to a soft couch with a swift grasp of your hand. As his fingers rub back and forth on your muscles, you can’t help but wonder if he does this to every new potential hire.
The room suddenly feels hot, and you find yourself slightly grateful when he breaks the silence as he’s rounding his own chair, “Where ya from, angel?”
You ignore the tingling in your stomach at the nickname “New York.”
Your answer is immediate. You and your best friend spent an entire day going over the document until you memorized everything. You covered all grounds. You're sure you can answer any question he throws at you about your background.
Another low hum as you watch him click away on his computer, “So, why are you looking for a job in Tokyo?”
“I decided to take my business degree oversees, I needed a new change of scenery.”
If you were pressed on the actual reason for your visit to Japan years ago, you would not be capable of giving an answer. Your memory has a gap between before and after you came. All you really remember is waking up in a Japanese penthouse with at least a million yen in your bank account.
Satoru abruptly stops his typing and leans back in his chair, his attention now and utterly focused on you. “You know, getting an interview here is not easy.”
Internally, you can’t help but roll your eyes. “Yes, Mr. Gojo. Which is why I’m very grateful for this opportunity.”
The silence following your sentence is so loud you could hear a pin drop. It makes you shift your position on the couch, and Satoru doesn’t grant you the mercy of not noticing. His low eyes actually don’t leave your frame once. They move from your thighs to your lips, to the fat of your supple breasts, and finally to your neck. It goes straight to your core, and you can’t stand it.
You clear your throat, “I can explain my-”
“You’re hired.”
You blink, once. Twice.
“I-uh- what?” A sputter in your words makes him stifle a chuckle at your perplexed state. You’re too cute.
With a shrug of his shoulders, he repeats, “The position you wanted? It’s yours, angel.”
There’s that pet name again. “Just like that? You haven’t even asked me five questions.”
Was it that simple? His tone and quickness make you question whether there are cameras in this place. Too many red flags go off in your head, but you don’t seem to notice that brewing gut feeling in your stomach.
Satoru nodded, his smile almost blinding with how wide it was, “Don’t need to. You’re gonna be working in the office next to mine.”
This is convenient. It’s way too convenient.
“Next to yours?” You whisper as if trying to make sense of this, and the tall man in front of you finds heavy amusement in your reactions.
“Next to mine, angel. That won’t be a problem, yes?”
He’s toying with you. He has to be. A fake smile graces your face, “Of course not. When do I start, Mr. Gojo?”
Satoru had no idea how much he had missed you until he saw you again. Changing your hair, growing into your body, or getting a few more piercings were irrelevant to him. He would always recognize you. How is it that you’re even more beautiful? Even more delectable. He hates himself for leaving you and protecting you in the worst way possible. You don’t even remember him— how could you? He compelled you to forget him.
He doesn’t know where you’ve been, who you’ve been seeing, or what you’ve been doing. But he saw you, overseeing the admissions director when they pulled up your application. He couldn’t help but think, is this fate?
“Today. Let me give you a tour, angel.” Satoru isn’t letting you go a second time. He lost you once, and he’d be a fool to do it again after this opportunity presented itself to him. How I missed you, my love.
——
Two weeks. That’s how long it took you to actually start your task in the first place. That’s because the owner of this company won’t leave you alone for a damn minute. Everywhere you go, he’s right behind you. Every time you try and get a minute to yourself, he’s there— pestering you.
The workplace was crowded, but one of the perks of being next to Satoru’s office was being away from the crowd. You tried observing when he leaves for lunch, but whenever he does, he demands that you take your lunch with him. He’s a busy man; you anticipate that he takes as many meetings as Toji does in a day, maybe even more. But for each one, you were requested to accompany him.
At this point, you’re starting to think he’s obsessed with you.
Today, you have a chance. Satoru hasn’t been in the office since this morning, and amid the daily gossip, you caught word that he won’t be in the office all day. This is the opportunity you’ve been waiting for; you just have to wait until everyone leaves by five.
4:55 P.M.
Your door creaks slightly after two soft knocks, “Hey, Kami! I’m leaving for tonight. Since you’re the only person in the office, you mind locking up?”
Shoko was always a kind person. She was one of the few people you spoke to every day when Satoru wasn’t corning you. You stop typing and glance at the gorgeous girl with a grin, “Not at all, you can just leave the keys on the door. Night, Shoko!”
The final ding of the elevator is what you wait for to get up from your seat. Even though you’re the only person here, you still try to make your movements as quiet as possible. You don’t question why Satoru doesn’t have a security code or why it’s open at all, but you are thankful for it.
His office is more.. organized than the last time you were in here. There are storage cabinets stacked on both the wall and his desk, as well as a bookshelf. You’re fast at getting to work. Starting near his wall, you open the first cabinet and shuffle through each folder. Blood supply contracts... NDAs.. employee files.. property deeds.
Nothing of importance is there, so your heels lightly clack on the way to his wooden desk. When you open it, the first thing you notice is a folder called The Red Files. Here it is, exactly what you were searching for. This file is stuffed with everything that could put him out of business permanently— money laundering, the files of all the individuals who were bribed and corrupted by this company, and even embezzlement.
You can hear a buzzing going off on your phone, and you’re confused when you read that it’s Toji calling you. He could have been phoning to check on your progress, but regardless, you decline and continue reading. The more you scan, the more you find illegal activities on top of illegal activities.
What the fuck kind of company is this—
“Find anything interesting in there, angel?”
You gasp, shoving the papers into his desk shelf instinctively as you stand up from your position on the floor. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. You’re so fucked.
You try to stammer out a response, but it’s honestly embarrassing how you’re tripping over your words, “M-Mr. Gojo? I— what?”
His slim body rests on his open door, his gaze unwavering at your slightly quivering frame. He’s wearing a white dress shirt again, but when you look a little closer, you notice that more buttons are popped open. His skin is so smooth, it’s easy to tell where his abs start. Why did he have to be so fine?
He doesn’t seem upset if you’re going by the smile on his smooth face. He seems amused, rather. His voice is slow when he speaks to you, taunting sensual even, “Well? Did you, ( ♥︎ )?”
Your eyes widen slightly, and you’re certain that your breath has been taken away. Well, now you’re double fucked. You didn’t hear him, how did he even get here? Then you roll your eyes again at your ignorance. Vampire. Right.
“..I don’t know who that is, Mr. Gojo. My name is Kami.” Your voice is tense, awkward because… what could you even say? You’ll deny this as much as you can before you inevitably give in.
Satoru rolls his eyes, “Wrong. Your name is ( ♥︎ ) ( ♥︎ ), and you work for that idiot, Fushiguro.”
Now you’re sputtering as you respond, “That’s not-”
“You woke up in Japan a few years ago, too, didn’t you? No clue how it happened, but you had a pretty hefty amount in that bank account of yours.”
Silence. You believe you’re too stunned to speak. How does he know that? He could see the expression on your face, and it made him laugh at your expense. Satoru began walking towards you, and with every step he took forward, you took a step backward. Right up until your back hit the wall, and you had nowhere to go.
His proximity resulted in the scent of his cologne hitting your nose. He appeared more.. bigger in front of you, and you’re almost facing his almost bare chest. Those piercing eyes stare down at you intensely, with so much passion. You’re internally cursing yourself for how you seem to only have these reactions when he’s near you.
You breathe, “I- I have to leave.”
He ignores you and instead presses closer to you. As he leans down, his hair brushes against your cheek, and you hear him breathe deeply. The hotness of his breath when he breathes out is a pleasant sensation for you.
He has to remind himself that you don’t remember him, but he sounds so broken when he says, “You spying on me? Really, angel?”
Your thoughts are confusing, and with how many of them there are, it’s making your head hurt. Why is he saying it like that? Like he knows you? Like you really hurt him. This is your first time seeing this man, but he’s acting like he’s in love with you.
“Mr. Gojo-”
His fang grazes your neck, descending right down to your collarbone, “Satoru. Call me Satoru, angel.”
You’re gasping when his fingers grip your top, pulling and popping one button off. Why aren’t you stopping him? Why are you letting this happen? Your breath is shaky when you speak, “Will I get in trouble for this?”
“In trouble? You’re asking if I’ll take this to the media? Course not, Angel.”
Satoru quickly savored your blood flowing onto his tongue after a small peck to your throat and another one on your chest. You taste so fucking sweet, just like you did the first time.
He continues, “But I won’t let you off so easy. Let’s teach you a lesson, hm?”
Your back is arching in an uncomfortable position on your boss’s desk while your chest heaves from the sheer pleasure running through your entire body. On his knees, the white-haired man holds your thighs in a tight grip while his tongue slides up and down your gushing mound. You’re not sure what lesson you thought Satoru had in mind for you, but it definitely wasn’t this.
The same hair you’ve been fantasizing about running your fingers through is shaking from in between your trembling legs. There aren’t any coherent thoughts in your brain besides ‘Satoru’ or ‘more.’ You can’t hold back your sounds even if you try, and Satoru finds that he wants to hear more of your tunes.
He slurps, his long tongue easily slipping inside you and devouring everything you have to offer. “God, you still taste so good.”
You’re babbling when you respond, you don’t even register his words, “Oh! Yesss- Right there, Toru.”
You’re bucking your hips into his awaiting mouth, it’s so messy and wet. Each time you spasm and try to run away from his onslaught, it just makes him go harder- go faster. His tongue slipped out of you, but the pressure never went away because he quickly slid in two long, slender fingers and began pumping.
You choked, tears brimming in your eyes as he easily nudged your g-spot, “Always so messy, f’me.”
Always? A pitiful sob is the response you give to a sharp pressure on the side of your inner thigh, just where your fat lips meet. You tighten your grip on him when his tongue wraps around your twitching clit. As you’re huffing, tears begin to fall, and burning pressure builds in your core.
The way your hips are grinding against his hand and your arousal is making obscene noises in the quiet of the office are uncontrollable. He curls them, arching them at an angle to penetrate the deepest parts of you. And damn him for knowing how to eat it like this.
There’s a pulsing shock flowing through you with every squelching pump. Your body was filled with euphoria, and Satoru’s eyes were tightly closed, immersing himself in your essence- it was giving you sensory overload. The only thing keeping you grounded in reality at this moment is your harsh grip on his hair.
Satoru needed only three more strokes of his fingers to have your sweet cream covering him. You’re even messier when you cum, even louder, too- he always loved that about you.
“Such a pretty girl. You want more, angel? Want Toru to give you more?” He abruptly withdraws and slaps your dripping lips violently, causing you to scream and cry in his grasp. Instead of giving you an answer, Satoru presses his lips on yours in a furious manner, sucking up the air you breathe and eating every sigh that passes through your lips.
Your soft ass makes it easy for the desperate man to lift you up from the wooden desk with both hands. Your skirt is long gone, and your blouse is completely torn apart when you are pressed tightly against the wall.
Satoru grips your chin and puts your attention on him, “Look at me, angel.”
And with hazy eyes, you do. You experience a plethora of memories as your mind spins. Memories of you and Satoru on a silk bed, on a private plane. Memories of him lying on you and memories of his cock filling you up over and over again start coming back to haunt you when he utters the word ‘Remember.’
You blink rapidly, your mouth opening into a wanton moan when you feel Satoru’s thick tip slide past your entrance. Jesus, huge doesn’t even begin to describe him. Your hands are immediately pressing against his stomach, trying to push him back because it was entirely too much. He grips them both with one hand and effortlessly presses them above your head.
You’re almost distracted by the fact that you’re face-to-face with Satoru. Your Satoru. Your words are a mix of a dragged-out moan and a curious tone, “Toru?”
He is quick when he answers you, almost reassuring you that he’s here. With you, “Yeah, angel. S’me.”
His next words come out in a pained groan, “Come on, take some more f’me. You remember how to, right?”
You’re nodding before he can even finish his sentence, your trembling arms holding on for dear life around his neck as he presses his face into your chest. He’s pushing deeper inside you, and you find it hard to remember how to breathe when he slaps his hips against yours in one go. You’re wailing, breath heaving when you feel your arousal dripping down your thighs.
You’re so full, filled to the brim with 8 inches of fat dick. Satoru was a fucking problem; he doesn’t wait for you to tell him to move— pulls his cock at a slow, agonizing pace before he slaps against you once more. Your pretty pussy is on fire, and you swear you can feel him in your throat.
Satoru is stabbing your womb with each thrust, and he is so proud of you when you start pushing your pussy out. Yeah, you remember how to take him.
He’s panting against your mouth when you tremble out, “Missed you- missed you s’much, Toru.”
He groans, pressing his lips against you for another quick, sloppy kiss, “Oh, I missed you so much more, angel.”
The man above you was quick and precise with his movements. He was punching that spongy spot in you so good if you looked down, you’d be sure to see the creamy paste that started forming at the base of his cock. He just wouldn’t stop talking, “You take it so well, fuck. I’m in your stomach, baby. You feel me?”
His unoccupied hand moves down to your tummy, right where he was poking with every harsh thrust he fed you, “Feel me right there?”
Your eyes roll in the back of your head when Satoru kisses the ankle dangling by his head, and you try to gargle out an answer, “I-I feel you! So deep- so good.”
There was an itch inside you that only Satoru could ever scratch. He always treated your pussy so well, and you’re so far gone on the feel of him every time he slammed into you. Your boobs bounce with every forceful stroke, and when Satoru looks down at you, the only thoughts running through his brain are how good you look.
He can tell you’re close. Your screams are getting breathy, and your body is shaking more frantically under him. There’s no better feeling than this, he finds. No better feeling than your perfect cunt wrapped tightly around him as he fucks all coherence out of you. You didn’t look away from his eyes, from his face— he just looked so pretty when he was flushed and rutting into you like his life depended on it.
He breathes, his fangs poking right near your throat, “Looks like you’re gonna make a mess, angel. Gonna squirt all over me?”
“Y-Yess. Yes. M’gonna cum so-”
A groan in your ear makes you clench down harder on him, “Tell me you love it. Tell me you love how good I make you feel.”
You feel unapologetic when you desperately scream out, “Love it! L-Love the way you fuck me, I love you!”
“I love you, angel. Be a good girl and make a mess for Toru, yeah?”
You are being fucked out of your own soul as he goes even deeper than you imagined. When he bites harshly into your neck, your legs shake, and you can only gush all over him. He holds you like you weigh nothing as he holds the same pace, letting you ride out your entire orgasm.
Fuck, there's so much that it’s leaking on the floor, and that’s what does it for him. That’s all he needed for his balls to churn and for his breath to stutter as he dumps his thick cum inside your perfect haven. Your mind is so gone you don’t hear Satoru’s mindless whispers of how perfect you are.
You watch him as much as you can, as much as your orgasm allows you. You watch his perfect reaction, his brows furrowing, and the words getting stuck in his throat every time he twitches inside you from overstimulation.
Had it not been for the way he carried you and sat down in his chair, you would have assumed it was finished, but he ignored the juices leaking from you every time he moved. He’s still hard, painfully so— you didn’t have time to be worn out before he started slowly bouncing you on his erection again. Everything was messy, your fluids mixing and dripping beneath you two, and the blood from your neck dripping slightly onto your chest. You cried out on his shoulder.
You were aware that there would be a lot to discuss within the next few hours. How Satoru compelled you and forced you to forget him, and how you still legally worked for Toji. You had no idea what you would even say to him, but with each steady bounce on Satoru’s heavy cock, you just don’t find yourself caring at all.
masterlist
@shokosbunny
@megantheestallion-ismypresident
#jjk x black reader#jjk smut#jjk fanfic#geto suguru#geto suguru x black reader smut#gojo satoru x black reader#gojo satoru x blacker reader smut#gojo satoru smau#jujutsu gojo#gojo x reader#gojo satoru x black!reader#suguru geto smut#jujutsu geto#toji fluff#toji x y/n#jjk toji#toji fushiguro x black reader#toji fushigro x reader
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✩。°𝄞🚨D-TOWN BABY 𝄞✨°。✩
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/dedbe9c47f9f10ecf38a26181584623a/a9641f918ff947a1-05/s540x810/59a7350927935f188a67b4c6707c4c4baf88912d.jpg)
╝ •part one | part two ╔
╰₊𓂂➢ pairing: gang affiliated!yoongi x fem!reader
╰₊𓂂➢ genre: hood au, bother’s best friend au, smut, angst
╰₊𓂂➢ warn!ngs: use of the n-word, aave, [mentions of drugs, drug dealing, death, smoking and drinking], negligence due to use of drugs (reader’s mother), reader is heavily black coded, cat-calling, riding, oral (reader receiving), swallowing semen. (let me know if there’s more please!)
╰₊𓂂➢ summary: yoongi is apart of a gang called d-town, the gang your brother just so happens to be apart of.
╰₊𓂂➢ word count: 5,625 words
╰₊𓂂➢ author’s note: the inspiration came from me shouting “D-TOWN NIGGA!” at my sister while watching the Daechwita music video. lmao, i hope y’all enjoy it.
The headlights of your black honda civic shines on the group of men huddled together on the steps of the project building.
Smoking, drinking, talking and laughing loud as hell, and hitting licks.
You huff while turning your car off. Stepping out, your long, fern green skirt flows with the wind. Cleavage hanging out of your bohemian patterned shirt. As you approach the ran down project building you can hear the men on the stairs whistling at you.
You roll your eyes at the gang members who are shouting and cat-calling loud as hell— the whole block could hear.
“Damn Ma, can I get a 360?!” One of them call out. Before you could even flip him off, two familiar voices chime in.
“Chill, nigga.”
“Shut the fuck up.”
They say at the same time. The two voices could easily be distinguished as Trey (your brother) and Yoongi (your brother’s best friend).
Or their street names: Tre D and Agust D. The ‘D’ standing for D-Town. To which you find corny as hell because you all literally live downtown. All these corny ass niggas’ names end with D.
Once you’re right in front of the group of men your brother nods his head at you. That’s just him acknowledging your existence. The two of you have a complicated relationship. It’s only complicated because you don’t like his lifestyle (respectfully) but he won’t stop gang banging.
Nonetheless, you’d still take a bullet for that man. Vice versa.
“Yo, _______.” Yoongi speaks. From the looks of it, you can already tell he’s about to say some stupid shit. He has that sorry ass smirk on his face and keeps glancing around at his little posse. Leaning your weight on to one leg, you simply arch your brow at him.
“You gon’ let me tuck you in?” Your stoic expression remains the same. A few giggles are heard and your brother shakes his head. Trey is more than used to Yoongi making advances at you— he’s been fiend out for damn there 8 years.
Yoongi looks you up and down, adjusting his duffel bag on his shoulder. You smack your teeth and harshly brush past the men blocking your way up the stairs. Prior to entering the building you yell back at the long haired, pale man.
“Tuck your dick!”
SLAM! You slam the door shut, you can hear the distant instigating behind the door as you walk up the stairs to the shared apartment. Mumbling curse words on your way up.
Yoongi’s smirk never leaves, despite the instigation his crew nagged on about. He likes that shit. He loves it. Your hot temper and all of it. He knows that if he wanted to he could shut you right up. But you being mad at him kind of turns him on… so he’ll let you have it.
You’d prefer a nice and quiet, empty pathway to your home when you get off from work. You go through enough stress as it is. Another headache is exactly not what you needed.
Stepping foot into the dark apartment, you set your purse down and walk to your room, ready to get in the shower after a long day. The apartment is fairly big compared to the other units. More than enough space for you and your brother. Although, for the past year it’s really just been you occupying the space.
Trey is never home. He’s out and about being Tre D. He stopped coming home about a little over a year ago. It’s just gang related activities after the other, selling drugs, hanging out with D-Town and fucking random girls. Repeat.
It’s reasonable that you gave up on trying to stop him. He’s a grown man now and you can’t sit around all day to inspect your little brother’s everyday life to make sure he’s doing ‘the right thing’. He’s only 2 years younger than you but you always acted as a mother figure. Taking over that role after your mother got sprung out on crack and left you both.
Working your ass off everyday, feeding him and yourself, trying to make sure he’s doing well in school— all a waste of time. Now look. He’s outside of your shared apartment, probably not even going to come up stairs and is making way more money than you.
You regret the day he met those guys. And you regret even more when he dragged Yoongi along with him.
The thought of Yoongi makes you sigh. You pick up your towel to get in the shower, blasting Lauryn Hill as you lather your brown skin with smell-good soap. You manage to decompress in the shower. Tracking wet footprints to your bedroom as you approach the window, you look outside to see if they’re still there.
Yes. Yes they are. Your brother seems to be leaving and you can’t help but notice someone is missing from the gang.
And almost on queue— as if the devil himself set it up… you hear the front door opening. Letting out a groan, you go and peak out of your bedroom door.
“No need to hide, babygirl. Come on out.” Yoongi calls.
You roll your eyes before slamming your door. But like you figured, the door opens right back up and in comes Yoongi. He silently stands in front of the door after he closes it behind him, observing your figure that is semi-hidden behind the white towel you have on. Yoongi already has a little stiffy just by looking at you.
“Stop calling me babygirl you freak, I’m older than you.” You say, responding to the comment he made. He chuckles, walking over to sit on your bed while you apply lotion on your legs. He drops his duffel bag on the ground next to him.
“Yeah, by like a few months.” Looking down at him, you noticed that he’s man spreading, leaning on his arms that are propped up behind him on the bed. Refraining from gulping, you look away.
You don’t respond to him. Instead, you continue on with your nightly routine, pretending that the fine man is not sitting on your bed ready to pounce on you the second you say go. You can hear shuffling behind you as you fix your locs, putting them in the ponytail.
“_______, I got you something.” He says and you reluctantly turn around. This man really doesn’t learn or care to catch a hint. In his hand is a book. A book that you’ve been searching for everywhere and is sold out.
“How…” is all you can mutter out. Out of all of Yoongi’s highly prestigious and unusual gifts he attempts to give you, this has got to be the best one yet. Best, because you actually wanted it. Not that that Birkin Bag was easy to donate— that was a struggle.
“Uh— I saw you were looking for this shit everywhere on your spam.” You furrow your eyebrows.
“Why the hell are you on my spam page?!”
“So I had drove damn there 2 fucking hours to get this shit.” He says, ignoring the previous question.
You love it. You want to snatch the book out of his long slender fingers, throw your bonnet on and start reading immediately. But—
“I can’t take that Yoongi.” The sentence isn’t something that he hasn’t heard before. You tell him every single time he comes up to your apartment trying to hand you something he bought for you. You never take shit from him and if you do, it gets donated almost immediately.
He scoffs. Honestly looking a little pissed off— fed up to be exact. “What do you mean you can’t take it? Didn’t you hear me, _______?” He stands up, book still in hand. “I drove 2 hours for a fucking book!” He exclaims.
It’s not like you’re meaning to be a bitch. You’d just rather not take anything that was bought with drug money. Even the book you’ve been dying to read for months.
“Listen Yoongi—”
“Agust D.” He corrects.
“I’m not calling you that shit!” A smile cracks onto his face. Just a small one. Because, as mentioned before, he loves that shit. But he’s still fed up.
“I can’t take that. It’ll be donated just like the other gifts you attempt to bribe me with.” You say and he sets the book on the bed, stepping closer to you. “I’m not bribing you _______. I just wanna spoil you, just let me do that.”
“No! I don’t want anything you or my brother buy with your fucking D-Town money. You can keep all of that shit!” You roar while waving your arms around. He sighs, running his fingers through his long black hair, letting it fall back in place. “Money is money, _______.”
“I’m not doing this with you, Yoongi.” Arguing with him back and forth is like arguing with a wall. You two could go on and on about the lifestyle he and Trey are choosing to live.
Yoongi walks up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist. You don’t pull away. Despite how stubborn you are, you’d never deny Yoongi’s touch whenever you feel him. It’s instant stress relief.
“I’m trying, _______.” He calmly says in your ear. The disembodied voice— so husky yet smooth. It sends shivers down your back and all of the hair on your arms stand tall.
“Try harder then.”
“Why are you like this?” You scrunch your face up. “Like what?!” You can feel him shrug his shoulders behind you.
“Like… stubborn and petty.” Offended, you scoff.
“Stubborn and petty like your mama?” It was a quick little insult— a joke! Everyone says it. Plus, you had to think of a come back quick or else you know Yoongi would’ve known that you knew what he said was partially accurate. But when you feel the tight hold Yoongi had around your waist loosen… you knew you fucked up.
“You know my moms’ is dead.” You immediately twist your body around to face him, your towel nearly unraveling. You quickly catch it. “Omg, I did not mean it like that, for real. I was just saying shit!” You ramble on and on about how you don’t think before speaking and how sorry you are.
Then he laughs. Like actually laugh. Not a corny little smirk or the low chuckle he does when he’s around his boys— not even a light smile. He gave you his infamous, gummy smile, shoulder bouncing laugh. He even threw his head back for a second.
You really couldn’t help but smile. You missed that laugh. Having been reunited with it after so long makes you forget everything said and done. Because that’s the Yoongi you know, the Yoongi you grew up with, the Yoongi you loved. You smile at the taller man still looking at you with that cute gummy smile even after the laughter died down.
“Stop apologizing _______, I was just fucking with you.” You scoff but the smile never fades, even when you playfully punch his shoulder. “That’s not funny!” He nods his head in agreement as if he wasn’t just literally laughing his ass off.
“It was just funny seeing you speak like that. First time in mad long you didn’t have that stick that you love so much up your ass.” Looking up at him, you can’t even be mad at what he just said. Not when all the old feelings were suddenly rushing back in. The ones you fought off years ago.
“Yeah,” you switch your focus onto the ground. “It was nice seeing you laugh like that.” His fingers lightly grip your chin to lift your head back up to look him in the eyes. Your heart is doing backflips but in your head there are a million different alarms going off, screaming ‘abort!’.
“You always make me laugh. Whether I’m laughing around you or at home in my bed, laughing about something that you said. You make me…” He trails off making you furrow your eyebrows a bit.
“Make you what?” He sighs, scratching the back of his head, looking out of the window. You shove his shoulder to get his attention again. “Make you what?!” He looks down at his shoes as if the answer was written on them. They weren’t. You checked.
“You make me… hmmph.” He mumbles and you slap your hands on your naked thighs in frustration. You grip his face in your whole hand to get him to stop looking around the room helplessly, like a mother trying to force feed their child.
“What!” You scream.
“Happy!” He reciprocates the volume, eyes going wide when he finally lets the shit flow free. Your hand slowly drops from his face. “Damn— satisfied?” He sassily asks, rolling his eyes. Too in shock to even say anything, you just stand there with your eyebrows high, looking like a dumbass.
“_______,” he starts, earning you attention. So many thoughts sprint through your mind as you stare up into his sharp brown eyes. It’s really hard to believe that after everything, he still found happiness in you. You can’t recall the last time you felt happy in Yoongi’s presence. The man that you once loved. You and Yoongi never dated, never slept together, never really announced any feelings for each other either. The relationship the two of you had was unspoken. You knew the love was there— he did too, and that was enough.
“I need you to know, that I want you.” He says seriously. Your heart drops at the words. No.
No, not now. Why now?
“I want us, _______.” You could melt underneath his gaze. You feel yourself slowly folding. Ready to submit and give into him— give into your heart that’s been begging to be his for 7 years now. “Tell me you want this too.”
Yes, tell him you want this. Want all of him. Because you do… but you can’t. It’s not the same. This is not the same as it was 7 years ago. Yoongi isn’t the same. You can’t do it.
“I can’t— I don’t… want this.” You try to stand strong but you’re weak. Yoongi always did that to you. “You don’t or you can’t— which one is it?” He says, already knowing the answer. He needs to hear it from you though. You sigh, closing your eyes. “Yoongi—”
“No _______ tell me right now why you can’t just let us be happy?” Yoongi’s frustration is valid. But so is yours. You try to walk away from him, to get away, like those alarms that kept going off in your head a few minutes ago told you to do. But Yoongi isn’t having it. He already laid his heart out there, he just wanted you to take it— for it to be yours. So he grabs your arm. “Don’t walk away from me.” You yank your arm back immediately.
“I fucking can’t Yoongi! You want me to stand here, laugh, ‘kee-kee’ in your face. Tell you I want you and that I want this just for you to go back to the streets the next second someone calls you.” You’re out of breath from all of the screaming, no doubt the neighbors were gonna report. But you aren’t done.
“D-Town tells you to jump, you ask how high. I ask you to get your life together, to get off of the streets and I’m left with the same answer. I’m not gonna be one of those bitches that hold you down when you decide to get into some dumb shit and I’m damn sure not gonna be the person people have to get in touch with because their fucking boyfriend died doing some fuck shit.” The undertone of your face is red and your hands are shaking. “It’s bad enough my brother is in to deep. I’m not trying to have to worry about someone else.”
Yoongi’s tongue pokes the inside of his cheek as he takes in everything you said. You’ve never been this vulnerable. With anyone. You’ve never said any of this to anyone but you don’t want to keep having the same interactions over and over with him.
“I understand.” Is all he says. And it’s all he has to say. You know he’s not gonna quit the streets until the streets quit him. After all, that’s how it works. But he really did understand and if that’s how you feel he won’t push it.
“Can I just lay with you?” Before you can even protest he raises his hands to clarify. “Just for tonight. Can you please… just do this for me? Let me lay with you.” You sigh, over analyzing the possibility. In the end you conclude it was fine. So you grab your pajamas and change in the bathroom. When you come back in, Yoongi is already laying in the bed. Shirtless and wearing nothing else but the pair of basketball shorts he had in his bag. The book resting on your nightstand.
Your pajamas includes a sage green tank top and a beige pair of cotton shorts. You lie next to him in your bed after cutting the lights off. His body instantly cuddles into yours.
“Yoongi,” you call out. “Your head is on my boobs.” He chuckles into the pair before raising his head to look at you. “You used to always let me lay on your boobs. They’re comfortable.” He says with a faint pout, poking your plushy boobs with his finger, making you flinch.
“Yoo— will you stop poking me!” You say frustratedly. “It tickles.” Yoongi perks up at that. “It tickles, huh?” He sings, continuing to poke you. His fingers pokes at your chest, your sides, your neck. You try to fight him off but your laughter is making you weak. “Stu— stop!” You cry out and he just giggles at your plea. It’s really over once he hovers his body over yours, locking yours in place underneath him.
Your face hurts from laughing so hard, can’t even manage to fight it anymore. The poking eventually stops but the soft giggles and toothy smile on your face doesn’t falter. Yoongi’s eyes sparkle as they bore into yours. He carefully places his hand on your cheek, thumb caressing your lifted cheekbone.
“You’re so pretty, _______.” He observes your features from above and his heart pounds against his chest. The pace aligned with yours. “Sometimes,” he nuzzles his head into the crook of your neck. “I forget just how pretty you are. So I come to bother you— just to see you. But when I have you this close… you make me want to leave everything else behind just so I can be with you.”
That’s all you really wanted. For Yoongi to leave all the bullshit alone. Maybe then you two could work.
But you know that all of this is just pillow talk. Yoongi would never do that. Not for you. Not for anyone. “Don’t say things you don’t mean, Yoongi.” You speak mellowly. He lifts his head out of your neck to look at you again. “I can’t tell you how I feel now?” You roll your eyes. “You can but don’t sit here and lead me on to believing in a lie.”
He doesn’t respond. You feel his lips on your cheek. Eyes widening, you look at him in confusion. “What are you—”
“I’m not lying to you, _______.” He kisses your forehead. “Even with everything that happened, no matter what you say to me— I never told you a lie and I don’t plan to.” He leans in to give you another kiss but pauses. His face just an inch away. Your breath hitches at the close proximity, growing nervous when his eyes focus on your lips.
“Can I kiss you?” He whispers softly against your lips. Your mind isn’t working. There’s no alarms blaring, no weird gut feeling, just you. Underneath him. Without much thought, you mutter a breathy “yes.”
He leans in, his lips molding perfectly with yours. It’s soft and passionate and you’re worried that you just might have a heart attack the way your heart is pacing. Your fingers travel their way through his long strands of hair as you happily taste the minty flavor of his mouth— covering up the taste of cigarettes. When he pulls away to catch his breath, you immediately pull him back down. Now that you got a taste of him, you don’t want to let it go.
The kiss starts getting heated when Yoongi rolls off of you and pulls you on top of him. His hands roam the surface of your back, letting them slip under your tank top. You bite on his bottom lip once you pull away, letting your soft brown hands travel up his abdomen to his solid chest. Your back arches as you leave open mouth kisses against his chest. He takes the opportunity to cup your ass into his hands, occasionally squeezing the fleshy rump.
You slightly shift your hips up against him to lift up. “Fuck,” Yoongi lets out a shaky breath. “Don’t move like that.” You furrow your brows in confusion but you quickly understand when you feel something poking your thigh. In shock, you shift again. A low groan leaves Yoongi’s mouth and he places his hands on both sides of your waist.
You watch as his eyes squeeze shut, the action and the sound he let slip gave you that tingling feeling in your stomach, that familiar sensation fluttering in between your legs. You do it again. Wanting to hear that sound from him again.
“Seriously, you don’t want this to go further than it already has.” True. You don’t, but you’re a little too lust filled to think straight. And the fact that Yoongi is hard as a rock underneath you has you wet. Grinding your clothed sex onto his bulge.
“Yo, I—”
“Shut up.” You say, placing your hands on his chest to support yourself as you grind against him. The lewd sounds that escape from both of your mouths flood the room. Yoongi’s basketball shorts get bunched up in the process, the repeated action dragging the band down, exposing his boxer briefs underneath.
You lift your hips up to pull the shorts down but Yoongi stops you. He sends you a warning look that reads, ‘don’t do this.’
Regardless, you enthusiastically yank them and his boxer briefs down his thighs, letting his dick stand tall against his lower stomach. “_______, you’re confusing me.” He says while you’re busy scrapping to get the clothing from around his ankles, satisfied when they hit the floor. You turn around, looking down at him once again.
“You’re confused? Hm, I thought you were hard.” Speaking sarcastically, you turn your focus onto Yoongi’s member. You grip his length in your hand, brushing your thumb over his sensitive tip making Yoongi twitch.
“A little bit of both honestly. I mean, mostly hard but— woah woah woah, stop!” Yoongi panics once you put your mouth on his dick. He immediately sits up, his back resting against the head board. “I’m not doing this with you.” He says, to which one of your eyebrows flick up.
“Why not?” You scoff. “You don’t seem to have any problem fucking all these other bitches.” Yoongi lets out an unamused laugh, wiping his hands over his face. “You’re not other bitches. You don’t throw yourself on my dick.”
“I just did!” Technically, you did.
Yoongi scoffs, mumbling something under his breath. “It’s not the same thing. You’re invested in this _______ and you know it.” You turn your head away from him, not wanting to hear the truth. “I don’t need you to have another reason to hate me.” Rolling your eyes—
“I don’t hate you.”
“You’re just saying that.” You shake your head, scooting closer to him. “I’m not. I don’t hate you, Yoongi.” You repeat, your fingers go to his hair and you focus on the way his dark hair fall on your skin before looking at him again. “And right now… I’m horny, so.” You sit in front of him, anticipating his response.
“Okay.” He shrugs.
“Okay, what?” He grabs your waist gently, pulling you closer to him. Your lips lock onto his again and this time, the pace quickens. Yoongi’s hands reach for your tank top to pull it over your chest, you lift your arms as he pulls it off, slinging it across the room. Like clockwork, you drag your shorts down as well, tossing them in the corner without a care in the world.
Yoongi’s hands roam all over your body. Taking in the feel of your body being close to his. He retracts from the kiss to drool over your body. His pale hands over your brown skin, the only source of light coming from the window. “What do you want me to do, _______?” He asks, palming your breast in both hands. You bite your lip as you look down at him touching you.
“Can I ride you?” You ask in a whisper and you could’ve swore you felt Yoongi’s dick twitch on your thigh right after the words fell off your tongue. He felt like doing a backflip. An ability he doesn’t have but that’s how you make him feel. It’s just like you to want to ride him— it being your first time even having sex with each other.
“Fuck yes.” You let out a giggle at Yoongi’s expression before leaning over to open the top drawer of your nightstand. His eyes travel with your every movement. “What are you doing?”
“Grabbing a condom.” You popped out. He purses his lips at that. “Guess I’m not the only one you’ve been wrestling in the sheets with.” Looking back at the man with the condom in your hand, the jealous look on his face makes you want to run over to your phone to take a picture. Instead you laugh.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” You say, ripping open the packet. “I bought them because they’re a necessity. I’m not fucking anyone— but i’m glad I did buy them.” Yoongi raises an eyebrow in curiosity. “I’d rather not have the neighborhood’s dick in me raw.”
It’s almost comedic the way his jaw drop. “Neighborhood’s dick is cuh-razy!” Slipping the condom on his length, you let out a giggle. Once you’ve got it on all the way you grip his shoulders, lifting your cunt over it. “It’s okay,” you jokingly reassure. “I’ll make sure to give you a good rating.”
“Oh, you got jokes— oh shit.” His demeanor changes once you rub his tip against your wet slit. “Are you—,” He reaches out to drag a finger through your folds. “You’re mad wet.” He states the obvious and when he pulls his finger away, your arousal drags with it. Without a second thought, he lifts his finger to his mouth, sucking on it to taste you. A low moan leaves his mouth. His eyes never leaving yours.
“You ready or did you change your mind?” You shake your head slowly, feeling more aroused than ever. “I’m ready.”
Once again, you maneuver his length through your folds before aligning it at your entrance. You take a deep breath and Yoongi’s hands rub your back. You slowly lower yourself down his length, feeling the pressure of him stretching you out. Your mouth falls agape when his full length is inside of your cunt.
After a few more rounds you get used to it. Yoongi stares at the action of your pussy swallowing his length. Your pussy is so tight around him, he’s afraid he might cum too fast.
He curse in your ear as you begin to ride him faster. “Fuck— you’ve been holding back on me for all these years.” Yoongi moves his hips, helping thrust into you. Your tits jump along with you as you bounce on his cock. So deep, the sound of his balls slapping against your ass echoes throughout the quiet apartment.
“Ah, Yoongi!” You moan out and Yoongi feels himself growing light headed. “You’re making me go crazy, _______.” He slams into your pussy faster— harder. At this point you weren’t even moving. Yoongi was the one in control of your body.
Especially when he moves you off of him, switching positions to take full control. You lie on your back, abandoned pussy and all. “Yoongi, put it back in.” You beg.
He shushes you before bending down, face in between your legs. His mouth attacks your wet cunt. He flatten his tongue to fully taste your sex. Licking and sucking all of you. His mouth sucks on your clit making you scream out in pleasure while his three fingers abuse your hole. “Yoongi, fuck that feels so good.” He slightly smirks up at you.
“Tell me whose pussy this is.” He says lowly. You could’ve came right then and there just from how sexy he said it. All dominant and territorial. The way he looks— his long dark hair sticking to his face and neck.
“Yuh— oh my god!” You moan out as your legs begin to shake at the overwhelming stimulation of his mouth and fingers.
“Tell me.” He demanded a bit louder.
“Yours Yoongi! It all yours, mm.” His fingers moves faster and you grip the sheets for moral support. “F- Fuck me Yoongi. I want your dick inside me.” It doesn’t take long before he obeys. He lifts up, just before you could orgasm and slides his hard dick inside of you. With Yoongi in control now, the pace is much faster. He lifts one of your legs up, putting it over his shoulder for better access.
Going deeper inside of you, hitting all of the right spots. You pull him down towards your body, your nails digging into his back, creating little crescent moon shaped marks. Chest to chest, Yoongi penetrates your pussy as the two of you share a feverish kiss.
“I’m gonna cum, Yoongi.” You say against his lips, out of breath. He rapidly nods his head. “Cum, mm.” His thrusts slow down, instead he makes sure to go deeper, hitting your spot repeatedly, making your legs shake around him. “Cum for me, _______.”
A few thrusts later and you cream on his dick. He pulls out, slips off the condom and starts stroking his dick. You place your hands over his, moving your mouth towards his tip. When the long drags of warm semen pour out you catch every drop of it. Mouth wide open, tongue out— you swallow his cum. Licking the tip afterwards for good measure.
Yoongi’s heavy breathing fills the room as he collapses on the bed. You get up to throw the used condom out and to collect your pajamas off the floor, walking with a bit of a limp. You toss Yoongi his basketball shorts before cleaning yourself up in the bathroom and changing.
When you come back, you find Yoongi already in his basketball shorts lying on the bed still. “Not gonna dip?” You ask, trying to sound nonchalant. You don’t want him to go but you don’t need him to know that. You were just awfully vulnerable and something similar to regret is already creeping up on you.
“Naw, why would I?” You shrug before laying in bed next to him. Not even being able to position yourself, he makes sure he cuddles into you, your face close as hell to his. “So how was the neighborhood’s dick?” He jokingly asks, laughing after. You lightly punch his chest.
“I’m not finna play with you Yoongi.” Yoongi serves you a feigned pout. “Awe, you regretting it already?” You don’t say anything because you really don’t know if you are. You don’t regret the sex because— fuck that was amazing. Best dick you ever had and you really will give him a good rating. However, the things that were said could’ve stayed unsaid. You shared too much vulnerability and that’s not something you’re comfortable with. The last thing you need is Yoongi to throw any of that shit back up in your face.
“I don’t regret it.” You conclude. His arms wrap around your waist tighter, grabbing one of your legs to wrap it around him. “But it won’t happen again. This was a one time thing.”
“But you swallowed my cum.” He pouts again and for some reason you don’t think it’s feigned this time. So you lightly smack his lips. Too much of a distraction.
“Because I didn’t want to get my covers dirty, you freak.” He dramatically raises his eyebrows. “So now I’m back to being a freak.” You sigh because it seems like he’s purposely not paying attention to what you’re actually trying to say.
“Yoongi.” You say seriously making him nod his head. “Okay, I got it. it was a one time thing.” Despite his display of understanding, you can’t help but hear the underlying disappointment in his voice.
You lay in his arms for hours. Neither of you fall asleep, replaying the previous events in your head. You debate with yourself whether or not you’re being in denial, too petty, stubborn, unreasonable. Whether or not you should give Yoongi a chance. Because right now you feel safe. Right now, everything is okay while your head rests against his beating chest. Right now…
“AGUST D GET YO’ ASS DOWN HERE NIGGA!”
You jump. You and Yoongi both lift up— your face of shock is a bit different from his. He knows what it is and you think you do too. That’s why you’re shook as fuck. The shouting and calling through the window doesn’t stop. And when Yoongi arms unravels from your waist, your heart sinks.
“What is that?” You ask.
And when that same, familiar, sorry ass, corny ass smirk that you hate so damn badly form onto Yoongi’s face… you knew.
“That’s D-TOWN BABY.”
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sinners
Pairings: Priest Mark x afab Reader
Summary: You’re a sinner. Lucky for you, Father Lee is willing to help you repent.
Genre: smut
Warnings: unprotected rough sex (be safe!), church sex, oral sex, priest/religion kink, masturbation, degradation, fingering, dirty talk, spanking, squirting, boot worship, overstimulation.
Word count: 5k6
a/n: this could be the part 2 every angel sinned but not actually because there's literally no plot, just filth.
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/6fcf27cd9de8fca908c3d492f6595bef/0075224e058ccd04-45/s540x810/2bff0c3e742768e6655a25b14f9ec3cde38af0b0.jpg)
Cool fingertips stroked the delicate line of your jaw and the action was innocent enough but it melted your heart into a flash of dripping radiation. Father Lee circled you slowly, his movements reminiscent of a predator calculating the most effective way to pounce on its prey. Those smoldering eyes, veiled beneath the narrow squint and framed by dark lashes, held a magnetic allure that was impossible to resist.
“I reckon you've been a bad girl,” he drawled, his voice dripping like thick honey, saturating the air around you.
His knuckles grazed the sensitive skin at the nape of your neck, their touch leaving a trail of shivers in their wake as they slid over the curve of your shoulder. A chill slithered down your spine, making you tremble, as his fingers hovered just above the tempting expanse between your breasts. You could feel the steady thrum of your heart beneath his touch, as if he were stealing your very essence and claiming it as his own.
“I could smell your cunt from the second you stepped inside this building.”
His voice had dropped several octaves, and you shuddered at the feeling of his hot breath on your skin. The vulgarity of his words had caused you to gasp, but you couldn’t deny the way your mouth watered at the sound of his velvet-smooth voice forming the word 'cunt'.
“I could smell it when you came inside the booth, when you heard my voice.“ His eyes flickered as he paused to take a breath. “When you said my name.”
He spoke almost condescendingly to you now, and you were frozen in place as he pulled down your lower lip, running his thumb over the inside until it was slick with your saliva.
“Most people are afflicted with desires of the flesh,” he said. “But you- your thoughts were remarkable.”
“Father…” you mumbled, looking down to your hands as they fidgeted aimlessly over your lap. Your cheeks were hot and had flushed bright red- from the way Father Lee regarded you, with a predatory hunger woven into the perfect features of his face, you could tell that your shyness only excited him.
“Never have I come across a woman who wanted to be fucked as badly as you do,” he said, so close to you now that his lips brushed against your cheek, sending a surge of electricity through your body. “And as you can imagine, I’ve encountered a myriad of sinners in my day.”
“So what are you gonna do about it?” You breathed, surprising yourself with your sudden bout of bravery. He seemed pleased with this response, raising an eyebrow wryly before standing up straight to look down on you.
“The first sin you’ll repent for will be lust,” he said, and you found yourself biting your bottom lip at his commanding tone. “On your feet.”
You did as you were told, standing up from the pew and presenting yourself for him. Then he circled you, never once allowing you to evade his sight, tongue darting out to wet his lips as he moved; finally he took a seat where you had been seconds before, splaying his palms over his muscular thighs.
You bowed your head respectfully as he observed you from his sitting position, skin burning under the weight of his pale-eyed gaze.
“Take off your clothes,” he said abruptly, crossing his legs and leaning back. “Now.”
Your mouth fell open, but you know better than to protest; there came that feeling again, sharp and prominent, and you quickly worked to pull off your cardigan and discard it on the ground behind you. Next came your sweater and loose-fitting jeans, your hands shaking as you unbuttoned them and tugged them down your thighs, the dark denim pooling at your ankles. Once you’d bent down to take off your boots, you kicked your jeans behind you to join your discarded jacket and sweater.
You wrapped your forearms around your stomach self-consciously, all at once becoming hyper aware of the way your nipples had stiffened, poking noticeably through the thin, un-padded cup of your bra.
Father Lee leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and settling his chin in his palms before shooting you a venomous stare. “All your clothes.”
You nodded, reaching behind yourself to unclasp the hooks of your bra, slipping the straps down your shoulders with a timid reluctance. Pulling away the lace fabric from your breasts, you averted your eyes to the ground as he took in the sight of you.
“When atoning for our sins,” he said softly, stretching his arm out to reach your face, gently guiding your chin to look at him. “We aren’t granted the luxury of modesty.”
He patted your cheek before hooking his fingertips into the waistband of your underwear, which wasn’t much more than a flimsy scrap of black lace. He inhaled sharply, eyes fluttering back into his head as he seemed to be basking in something, though you couldn’t be quite sure what. He pulled them down a few inches, exposing the smooth skin of your pelvis, and impatiently you hurried to meet his hands with yours, helping him tug off the garment altogether.
You were about to toss the underwear alongside the rest of your clothes when he shook his head and held his hand out expectantly.
Furrowing your eyebrows slightly, you handed him the bundle of fabric. You watched with slight embarrassment as he began to level it between his palms, working the material between his fingers as a thoughtful expression crossed his face. “They’re drenched,” he remarked finally, lips curling into a disgusted sneer. “You really are a whore, aren’t you? Walking around with soaked panties, mind plagued with vile thoughts- and regarding a man of the cloth, no less.”
Despite the biting nature of his words, you could still see a mischievous sparkle behind his eyes as he pocketed your underwear.
“It’s despicable, really. Pitiful.” His tongue danced over his bottom lip until it gleamed with spit, and with a quick glance downwards you saw that he was hard. “You’re lucky I’m here to help absolve you.”
You ignored the natural impulse to try and cover up, the degrading nature of the situation arousing you far more than you cared to admit. Your center was throbbing painfully now, so intense that it was beginning to distract you, your thoughts roaming without abandon.
“Show me how you touch yourself at night when you’re alone with all those filthy thoughts,” he ordered, reclining again in his seat and casually tucking one hand behind his head. In this position, his erection was impossible to ignore, and your mouth nearly fell agape at the massiveness of the protrusion.
“Y-yes, Father,” you whispered, dizzy with lust as one hand crept towards your inner thigh, easing yourself into the task. You widened your stance, moving your hand to the warm, padded flesh at the top of your thighs, wincing when you discovered the abundance of your juices that had built up there.
“Go on,” he said, sounding as though he were calling a dog over to him. At this your fingers made contact with your neglected, pulsing clit, spreading your wetness as you formed tight, firm circles over it. You whimpered lowly, partly from the pleasure and partly from the thick humiliation blooming in your throat, and he smirked.
“Come on now, we both know you can do better than that,” he chided. “I want to see you fuck yourself.”
You swallowed thickly, pressing a finger undecidedly against your slit. Sensing your hesitation, his demeanor shifted from somewhat playful to completely unamused, and his hand shot out to grip your wrist. He let out a bitter sigh before he spoke, eyes boring so intensely into yours that you shivered.
“I said fuck yourself.”
Your breath hitched and you scrambled to obey his commands, immediately slipping two fingers through your folds and past your entrance. You groaned at the feeling of your walls stretching out, wasting no time before you began to thrust upwards into yourself, struggling to keep yourself balanced as your knees weakened with your impending orgasm.
“You don’t really expect me to believe that slutty cunt of yours can only take two fingers, do you?” he said, and with a labored breath you shoved a third finger inside, gritting your teeth at the intrusion.
The sound of your fingers pumping in and out of your pussy was nothing short of vulgar, and you shut your eyes tightly in an attempt to ward off the shame that was rapidly engulfing you.
“Harder,” came his harsh command, and you tried your best to comply, curling your fingers and pushing roughly against your spongy inner walls.
You were a panting mess, forehead shining with perspiration and lips bitten red and swollen, when he finally stopped you. It was cruel, the way he’d waited patiently until you were on the brink of release, but you couldn’t bring yourself to complain; this was a punishment, after all.
Wiping your glistening moisture across your thighs, you pulled your fingers from yourself; then, looking over at Father Lee, you wrapped your lips around them and sucked off the remaining wetness.
He stood up, casting you over with his shadow as he towered above you. Stepping around to face you, he used the back of his sleeve to wipe away the beads of sweat that had formed by your hairline, a look of sincere tenderness on his face as he did so. That tenderness, however, was short-lived, and within seconds he’d returned to his unforgiving stance.
“Kneel.”
You did without having to be asked twice, knees instantly making contact with the faded, discolored carpet.
“I suppose it wouldn’t be entirely necessary to have you repent for the sin of pride. It’s quite clear just by looking at you that you have none left. Void of any dignity, on your knees, writhing in desperation like a bitch in heat.”
You blinked at him with eyes as wide and innocent as a doe’s, pressing your legs together as a fresh wave of arousal pooled in the pit of your stomach. You knew that he was merely teasing you, hoping to convince you that you were exempt from his punishment, but you knew better. There was no way he was planning to grant you any mercy- you could see it in his eyes as he leered coldly upon you, his pretty mouth pressed into a thin line.
“But,” he continued, just as you’d expected. “Just to be certain that you’ll be absolved, you will repent anyway.”
He lifted one leg and planted his foot on the seat of the pew, presenting you with a well-shined, expensive looking shoe, the toe of which formed into a dangerous point. “Clean it. With your mouth.”
You raised an eyebrow at the man but did not argue, fearing that he’d punish you more severely if you disobeyed. His shoe looked clean enough, not a single scuff to be seen in the shining leather, and, scooting yourself closer to the pew, you ran the tip of your tongue along the side of it experimentally. It didn’t taste like much, which helped to ease your worries, and it wasn’t before long that you were flattening your tongue and lapping at the stiff material like your life depended on it.
“Good girl,” he praised, but there was little kindness behind the encouragement. He rolled his heel back so the sole of his shoe was in your face, and with a nearly inaudible huff you began to lick up and down the patterned grooves.
Cringing at the thought of all the germs you were letting into your mouth, you were relieved when he pulled away and jutted your chin up towards him with the tip of his shoe.
“Turn and face me,” he said, taking a step back and folding his hands behind him. You shifted away from the pew so that you were eye-level with his crotch now, eyes falling to the straining bulge in the front of his dark, immaculately pressed slacks.
A ray of red-tinted light spilled through the stained glass window behind him, bouncing off the black stone of his ring as he trailed his fingers towards his belt. At a teasingly slow pace, he freed his belt from its hold, the room silent save for the soft clinking of the metal buckle.
“Most often overlooked by humanity is the sin of gluttony,” he said. He tugged down his zipper and unbuttoned his pants, taking a moment to palm at his bulge obscenely before reaching inside to retrieve himself.
“What do you hunger for, hm?” he asked, hissing as he cupped himself inside his pants. You could see his hand sliding up and down his length just out of your sight, and you stifled the sudden compulsion to reach into his trousers and grab him.
“Do you have cravings that can’t ever seem to be satiated?” His words flowed rhythmically, tone so soft you could almost swear he was singing to you. “Do you take all that’s given to you only to find that you’re still starving?”
You bobbed your head up and down, frantic and needy, parting your lips when at last he revealed himself to you. Though you’d been acquaintanced with his cock before, you couldn’t help but be taken aback by how big it was, thick and flushed deep pink at the tip. He ran his thumb over the swollen head, smearing a bead of precum across the toughened skin around his slit.
You felt lightheaded, overwhelmed at the pure, erotic beauty of this man, whom you’d so willingly allowed to defile you (and in a fucking church, of all places).
“You’re a ravenous little thing, aren’t you?” he mocked, fucking his hips into his loose fist with a throaty grunt. You kept your hands on your thighs, awaiting further instructions, growing restless with each passing second that his cock wasn’t in your mouth or hand.
God, you really were gluttonous.
He looked ethereal from where you knelt, full lips curved into a perfect “o” shape as he jerked himself over your face. It was fascinating to witness such a man allow himself to come undone like this, chest rising and falling and sweat forming on his brow with each stroke of his thick cock.
Tilting his head back towards the ceiling, he let out a guttural moan, quickening his tempo and bringing himself closer and closer to the edge. You were so turned on that you were fairly sure your juices must’ve dripped onto the carpet by now, a filthy proclamation of your desire; the uncomfortable throb of your cunt only intensified as you witnessed him nearing his orgasm, breaths strangled and raspy.
He peered down at you, wetting his lips. “Open your mouth.”
You unhinged your jaw, angling your head under his cock like you knew he wanted. He pumped along his shaft a few more times before releasing a silky stream of hot, salty cum into your open mouth, an animalistic bellow of pleasure floating from his lips like music.
“Don’t even think about swallowing it.”
You felt his thick load begin to settle on the back of your tongue, but you ignored the instinctive urge to swallow. He tucked himself back into his pants, fastening his belt before sitting back down on the pew. He patted his thighs, eyeing you sternly, and obediently you approached him and settled yourself on his lap.
His warm thigh pushed against your core with little mercy as soon as you sat down, and you found yourself grinding down against it, chasing the pleasure that he hadn’t yet allowed you to obtain. At this, he landed his palm sharply against your thigh.
“My personal favorite sin is wrath,” Father Lee said, placing his hands on your hips to keep you from wriggling around on his leg. “It’s both fascinating and amusing to see all the horrible things people can be pushed to do, all because of a little bit of rage.”
He lifted you up slightly and pulled your upper body over his lap; you complied with his adjustment, situating yourself so that you were laid fully across him, your hair falling in your face as your head hung forward- you clamped your jaw shut as tightly as you could manage, terrified of what might happen should you let a single drop of his load fall from you. His hand grazed the tender junction between your ass and thigh and you shuddered, whining when he wedged his knee back between your legs.
“I can feel the rage that’s burning deep inside you, my child,” he said, gathering your hands behind your back and holding them together at the wrist. He used his other hand to push down on the small of your back, in turn applying pressure to your soaked cunt with his knee; you cried out, the sound muffled through your closed lips.
“Do you ever wonder when your grip on your own sanity will spiral and you’ll finally snap?” You stiffened your jaw, praying you wouldn’t mistakenly let anything drip, the texture of his load seeming to become denser the longer it sat on your tongue. You couldn’t afford to be disgusted by the way it’d grown bitter and cold, coating the inside of your mouth with each minimal movement of your head.
“Answer me,” he growled, kneading your ass cheek hard enough that you felt his fingernails cutting into your delicate skin.
A pitiful “M-mhm,” was all you could muster.
“Such an angry girl,” he stated, voice dripping with faux-sympathy as he circled his fingertips over your thighs, preparing you for what was to come. “We can’t have that, now can we?”
Without warning he slapped your ass so hard that you nearly forgot about the cum inside your mouth, your body surging forward before he caught you and brought you back. He allowed you no time to recover from the blow, administering a second hit to the opposite side of your ass. You ground your teeth, eyes watering in both pain and focus as you fought to keep your mouth shut. He hit you again with even more sadistic aggression than the first two times, and inadvertently a tear dropped past your waterline and down your hot cheek.
He continued his ruthless assault on your ass, each smack harder than the last, until he landed a particularly intense one that you were sure would leave a red handprint on your skin. The force was almost enough to cause you to scream, and for a moment your lips parted, unable to bring one hand to stifle yourself given his bruising hold on your wrists. In turn, a small stream of cum dribbled from the corner of your mouth and down your chin.
You hoped he hadn’t noticed, but realized you’d had no such luck when he released your wrists and instead grabbed a fistful of your hair. Yanking your head back, he lowered himself so that he could speak gruffly into your ear, tracing shapes over the irritated skin of your ass.
“Make a mess and I’ll have no choice but to extend your punishment,” he warned. He waited for you to nod in understanding before releasing your hair, straightening himself again and promptly making contact with the swollen expanse of your backside.
Taking deep breaths, you kept your eyes squeezed shut while he beat down on you over and over; you probably would’ve enjoyed the spanking had it not been for the added responsibility of keeping a load of cum in your mouth, and you were beginning to fidget. His knee was still being held unyieldingly against your crotch, his slacks no doubt slick with your arousal, the friction sending shocks of pleasure throughout your body each time you twitched.
It was clear that the act of punishing you had gotten him hard again, the rigid length of his cock pressing into your side as he hit you.
“This aroused you,” he said flatly, as though it had only been just now that he’d come to that conclusion. “But I shouldn’t be surprised. It doesn’t matter how you’re being touched, does it? You’re so needy that you’re just grateful you’re being touched at all.”
He let out a taunting laugh, running his fingers through the back of your knotted hair. “You may swallow now.”
You followed his instructions right away, gasping in relief once his load was all gone. The inside of your mouth still tasted like him, the vaguest hint of savory sweetness on your tastebuds. After spending a few seconds stroking your raw ass in steady, soothing motions, he grabbed your sides, manhandling you until you were back in a sitting position on the edge of his knees. For the second time during your encounter, he unbuckled his belt, shimmying his pants and boxers partly down his thighs and allowing his cock to spring free.
You knew better than to succumb to your desires, stomach churning with want at the mouth-watering sight of his erection. All you wanted was to feel him- pump your fist along his veined shaft, wrap your lips around his warm skin, glide down his length until you were convinced you could feel him deep in your belly. He was right- you didn’t care how he chose to touch you. You just wanted to be touched.
“It’s time for you to repent for the sin of sloth, my child,” he said, massaging the tip of his cock with his thumb. “Spoiled little sluts like you are always far too accustomed to being given everything they want without ever having to lift a finger.”
He took hold of your upper thighs, pinching the curves while he guided you so that you were straddling him. Your breath caught in your throat; you were so close to what you wanted you could almost taste it.
“Is this what you desire?” he asked you, wrapping his long fingers around your wrist and moving your hand to his cock. Instinctively you grasped it, teeth sinking into your lower lip as you traced along the prominent veins adorning his shaft.
“Yes,” you said breathlessly. “God, yes.”
“You should know better than to use the lord’s name in vain in the presence of a priest,” he teased, his breath hot on your neck. He ghosted his lips against your jugular, just barely placing an open-mouthed kiss against it, erupting your body into chills.
“Please,” you all but whimpered. You were subconsciously rolling your hips down on his lap, desperate for any sort of release, and he reached forward to firmly hold you still.
“Work for it.” He placed his hands down on either side of him, lips just slightly curling upwards at the corners as he resigned to resting with his back against the pew.
You eased yourself forward, holding his cock upright by the base. Lifting yourself up, you grazed the flushed head along your slit and dipped it past your entrance, jaw already unhinging at the slight penetration. Heart pounding, you slid down onto him, tears springing to your eyes at the sheer intensity of his thickness stretching out your narrow walls.
“Oh fuck,” you grunted, eyes rolling back into your head when all at once he filled you to the hilt. Father Lee remained motionless, but you could see the way he sucked his lower lip into his mouth at the feeling of your pussy enveloping him, and from the back of his throat came a low hiss.
“That’s it,” he said encouragingly, clearly unable to contain himself as he began kneading your tits in his hands. You squealed, just barely rocking yourself, still trying to get used to having something so massive inside of you. “I want you to fuck yourself on my cock. Can you do that for me?”
“Y-yes, Father,” you said, reaching over his shoulders and gripping the edge of the pew with both hands to support yourself. He repositioned his hands so that they cupped your abused ass, latching his mouth onto your sensitive nipple and swirling his tongue over the peak as you hoisted yourself up.
You brought your ass back down, losing your breath all over again as he nibbled at your hardened areola. You were already beginning to work up a sweat, but still you continued to fuck yourself as you’d been instructed to, gaining momentum with each bounce of your hips.
The lewd sound of slapping skin rang throughout the empty room, melding with the strangled, depraved moans escaping your throats. Never before had you experienced such unadulterated ecstasy, and you weren’t sure that you ever would again. You were insatiable, slamming your hips down at an almost painful rhythm, knuckles turning white over the edge of the pew. The head of his cock reached your cervix and you saw stars, unable to think of anything but your impending orgasm and the beautiful man beneath you.
“Fuck, oh fuck, Father, please-“ came your incoherent cries, burying your head in the crook of his neck to more closely listen to his own sounds of pleasure. He was far less vocal than you were, being the composed man he was, but it was obvious that he, too, was coming undone by the way he was clutching your ass, forceful enough to leave bruises.
He growled, bucking his hips up to meet you, sending streams of tears flowing down your cheeks. It hurt, but you loved the pain, craved it, knowing that you wouldn’t be able to forget this for weeks.
“Fuck- I-I’m close,” you croaked, blinking away a bead of sweat that had fallen into your eye, heart hammering violently in your chest.
With that, he pushed you up off of him with such power that you stumbled back and fell onto your ass, his cock leaving you just as you were about to unravel. You sniffled pathetically, watching with glassy eyes as he rose to his feet, cock shining from the wetness of your cunt.
“Envy,” he said, glaring down at you, “Is the most laughable of the cardinal sins. Desiring what others have while ignoring your own blessings is truly humanity’s biggest flaw.”
He leaned down to thread his fingers through the hair at the top of your head, yanking you upright by the root so you were on your knees. “I know what you desire, pathetic girl. Release. Unfortunately for you, though, I’m the only one getting any of that today.”
He was taunting you, enjoying the distress evidently plastered across your face as he coerced open your jaw. Then he thrust his cock into your mouth, forcing you to taste your own arousal coating him, quickly deciding on a rapid, merciless pace to fuck your face with.
You couldn’t do much more than gag, taking shallow breaths through your nose as he pushed himself into your throat, using your hair as reigns to direct you.
You felt his cock twitch, and then your nose was pressed flush against the neatly trimmed blond curls surrounding his pelvis, one hand keeping you in place as warm spurts of cum shot down your throat. When he was sure that you’d consumed every last drop of his load, he let you go, tossing you onto your side like a rag doll.
Sobbing softly, you drew your knees to your chest, too humiliated to lock eyes with the stoic man who had reduced you to this. You were nothing more than a sniveling mess, defiled and debased, throat aching and lips trembling.
And yet still, somehow, your cunt was pulsing, screaming to be touched.
“Please, Father,” you mumbled in a daze, unsure if you’d even spoken at all once the words had left your mouth. “Please.”
He looked sinfully delicious from where he stood, towering above you as you lay sprawled across the floor, and with disappointment you watched him put away his dick. Using what little energy you had left, you tugged at the pristine hem of his pants, and he tilted his head inquisitively, a small smile creeping across his lips at your hopeless state.
“Please. I don’t know what you want me to do. Just— please.” You got onto your knees, nuzzling your cheek against his thigh like a cat begging to be fed.
“Please what, my child?” he asked, voice dripping with condescension. He caressed your cheek with his thumb, wiping away your partially-dried tears in the process. “Was this not enough for you? My cock filling your mouth, your cunt? You’re asking me for more, when I’ve given you so much already?”
You lowered your eyes, ashamed.
“How fitting, then, that your last sin to repent for is greed.”
He gripped your upper arm and jerked you to your feet, casting you haphazardly onto the pew. He licked his lips, admiring the view of your naked body strewn across the wood, your chest splotchy and red.
“You want to cum? Is that what you want?” he demanded, sinking to his knees and prodding apart your thighs. When you didn’t reply, he gave your inner thigh a hard slap. “Answer me.”
“Oh god,” you sighed, melting at the tantalizing feeling of air blowing against your pussy when he spoke. “Y-yes.”
“Hm,” he hummed, entwining his arms with your thighs so he could keep them apart, “Very well, if that’s really what you want.”
He lunged forward unexpectedly, burying his face in your cunt, lapping vigorously between your folds and gathering your sticky secretion on his tongue. You moaned wildly, one hand tangling with his flaxen waves, unintentionally rolling your pelvis against his face. Drawing his tongue between your outer lips, he met your bud at the very top and enclosed his lips around it, adding just enough suction that you were overwhelmed. Writhing helplessly against him, you screamed out as he dropped one of your thighs and impaled you with two of his fingers.
He was cruel, the way he pounded his fingers inside of you unrelentingly, his mouth working fervently at your clit. The edges of your vision blurred, and it wasn’t long before your stomach was dropping, indicating your approaching climax.
“I- I’m- fuck!”
He flicked your bud once more with the tip of his tongue, and then you were cumming, head thrown back in euphoria as your orgasm consumed you.
Your cunt vibrated as Father Lee snickered against it, and it was then that you registered the truth of the matter: you were well and truly fucked. He had no intentions of letting you breathe, instead continuing to toy with your throbbing clit, a third finger pressing inside you with a filthy squelch.
“Shit-“ you sobbed, his tongue forming brisk shapes over your bundle of nerves, fingers effortlessly working you open. You had no choice but to take it; the pleasure coursing through you was so potent that it was becoming unbearable, but you were sure that had been his goal, to punish you with the very thing you’d been yearning for.
He turned his fingers inside you, angling them to hit the deepest spots that nobody else had ever been able to reach. He curled them, brushing against something spongy and sensitive, and for a moment all you could see was white as you came for a second time.
Just as you’d feared, he didn’t stop; now he was sucking so ardently on your clit that you could hardly move, falling limply on the back of the pew, legs weak and numb under his iron grip. He continued to drive his fingers deep inside you, your body shaking feebly each time his fingers grazed your cervix.
“Father- please, no m-more,” you pleaded, but he only laughed, spreading apart his fingers inside you to stretch you further. He retracted from your clit with a noisy pop, and you were about to breathe a sigh of relief, until he removed his fingers from your core and used them to replace his lips.
“N-no, it’s too much, please!” You were crying now, struggling against his mouth as he moved his head downwards to lick stripes up between your folds, his thumb forming circles over your defenseless clit.
He sucked one of your outer lips into his mouth before delving deep into your entrance, starting to fuck you with his skillful tongue. You could feel that well-known dip in your belly yet again, and the muscles of your thighs tensed and contracted when he pinched your clit between two fingers.
The coil in your stomach snapped without warning, and then you were cumming; this time, however, was different- a wave of clear liquid shot out from your overstimulated cunt, soaking his face and the front of his shirt.
He backed away, finally, lips pulling into an evil grin as he examined the mess you’d made. You were wide-eyed, shocked at your newfound ability, sweat-stained chest rising and falling. You were sure in other circumstances you’d have been embarrassed, but right now you were far too exhausted to care.
“You’re a messy little thing,” he laughed, wiping his mouth off with the back of his sleeve and licking his damp fingers clean. “So what do you think? Have you learned your lesson?”
“Y-yes, Father,” you said, shutting your legs protectively just in case he decided to go for one more round.
“Good.” He returned to his feet, looking just as pristine as he had when you’d first seen him, save for his gently tousled hair. “And what do you say, after I’ve gone through all this trouble to ensure your absolution?” He questioned you as though you were a petulant child, resting his hands on his hips.
“Thank you, Father.”
#mark lee smut#mark smut#nct smut#nct 127 smut#nct u smut#nct dream smut#kpop fanfic#nct fanfic#mark fanfic#mark lee fanfic#nct 127 fanfic#nct dream fanfic
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★ 𝗖𝗛𝗘𝗠𝗜𝗦𝗧𝗥𝗬 𝗢𝗡 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗧𝗥𝗔𝗖𝗞𝗦 daniel ricciardo x f!reader
SUMMARY . . . # during the summer break , you and daniel decide to make it official . what better way than for both you and him to feature on each other's tracks ? daniel plays as the drummer and you are invited to an f1 race.
TAGS . . . # female reader , reader is part of a band , established relationship , softlaunching , slight suggestive content , the band is based of pre-existing ocs FIC STYLE. . . # social media (instagram + tiktok)
thehitbandofficial
liked by @ ynyn_unofficial @ ollieq._x @ jacoblorde @ penn4pennies @ danielricciardo and 154 others
We're getting the band back together!!
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thb_01 NEW ALBUM DROP??
olli4.jpg eating this shit up
lijahl4ves63 been bored as an f1 fan at least i can get content elsewhere
under_hitt FUCK YEAH!! LET'S GO
ynsfavetoe YN about to drop another hit we love herr
ric3.kiki wait danny ric is a fan of the hit band ??
ub4nforthis WAIT SERIOUSLY!? I DON'T FOLLOW HIM
dannyricxpodium @ ric3.kiki he's just like me
ollieq._x So... About the drummer 🤔
ynyn_unofficial he's finee don't worry about him
ollieq._x Uh huh...
ols_thb why they speaking like that what happened to penn ??
XOXloserclub didn't penny say she's taking a break?
lightsoutt33 @ ynyn_unofficial WHO'S "HE", PENNY USES SHE/HER?!?!
ynyn_unofficial i'm ready to go again
penn4pennies EWWW
ynyn_unofficial I SAID NOTHING WRONG??
penn4pennies That no one but us knows 🙄
visacashapprb ✔ Hang on in there everyone 💙 #Daniel Ricciardo #VCARB
racer4hire WE LOVE YOU DANNY RIC!!
georgiepig give us some more daniel content is the real challenge
danielsshoe3 what's he refering to when he says challenging
graveyardx_x maybe he finally took up riding a jetski like he claimed all those years ago
LanaDRIV3 Yea he probably doesn't struggle doing that
ynyn_tikkitok danny ric ric
cashedouthit YOU'RE AN F1 FAN TOO??
ynyn_tikkitok ki ki ki
visacashapprb Aye Aye Aye! 🤣🤣
georgiepig i cannot tell if that's an intern or daniel himself @ themiddleway
ynyn_unofficial
liked by @ ynyn_unofficial @ ollieq._x @ jacoblorde @ penn4pennies @ danielricciardo and 564 others
'LIGHTS OUT AND AWAY' is out now! Watch the MV and the Behind-The-Scenes on the official Youtube channel 😘😘
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XOXloserclub WAS THAT DANIEL FUCKING RICCIARDO ON THE DRUMS?!?!
under_hitt WHAT!? I DIDN'T SEE HIM IN THE MV
XOXloserclub HE'S IN THE BEHIND THE SCENES... I THINK HE PLAYED INSTEAD OF PENNY
lijahl4ves63 @ XOXloserclub two of my favourite things collabing is crazy 😭
ynsfavetoe what the fuck is a formula 1
under_hitt YN DOESN'T USUALLY WRITE LOVE SONGS... WHAT THE FUCK WAS 'down boy' THEN!?
ub4nforthis NOO MOTHER PLS DO NOT BE TAKEN
ric3.kiki maybe its the f1 brainrot but the amt of racing/formula 1 references in this album... crazy
dannyricxpodium right like what the fuck is 'can't leave me baby i'm no rosberg to your hamilton' it's so ON THE NOSE
penn4pennies My recovery will be fast 👍can't let anyone take my seat
ynyn_unofficial chill . no one is taking your sticks away
danielricciardo It was so fun filming with you guys 😁😊👊Hope to see you again 😉
rodethewaves4hits WHAT DOES THAT MEAN..?
penn4pennies Respectfully, sir. I hope you don't touch my drums again. Take Ols' guitar next time.
ollieq._x You're just bitter that YN was nicest to him lmaoo
ynphotographed
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YN LN was spotted in the Dutch '24 GP in front and inside the Visa CashApp RB Garage!
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ub4nforthis NO WAY.
ub4nforthis wait okay not that unexpected daniel and yn are apparently friends
lijahl4ves63 the friendship came out of nowhere but honestly go off <333
XOXloserclub I KNOW MY GIRL IS A REAL F1 FAN!!! SHE'S NO FAKER
lightsoutt33 guys theyre so cute tgt 🥺🥺😭 i saw a clip of yn in the garage talking with daniel
schecorat omg wait link?
lightsoutt33 I'LL TAG YOU
ols_thb I SAW THE VID THE WAY DANIEL IS LAUGHING AND SMILING AT EVERYTHING YN IS SAYING
goattifi Kinda weird to say... Daniel's a pretty happy guy overall
ric3.kiki she's the only celebrity i accept on the paddock
kickedatp5 she's barely a celebrity IN A WAY THAT SHE'S KINDA UNDERRATED
theshoeyshoe i didn't actually know about the hit band earlier but their music... kinda fire
under_hitt @ theshoeyshoe congratulations you are now part of the beaters
theshoeyshoe What did you just call me..?
gentlemanlyinyn IT'S THEIR FANDOM NAME I'M SORRY IT WAS A JOKE AT FIRST BUT IT STUCK AROUND
ynyn_unofficial
liked by @ thehitbandofficial @ ollieq._x @ jacoblorde @ penn4pennies @ danielricciardo and 3,523 others
Wherever you end up in, I think you're going straight to my heart
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thehitbandofficial can't wait for another hit song from this duo <3
ynyn_unofficial stfu jay . also , did u lose your main pw or something?
thehitbandofficial ...no
ynyn_unofficial i'll text it to u
penn4pennies @ thehitbandofficial Is that why you never responded to the memes I've been sending you? Bad.
ollieq._x Crazy how I never asked to hear about this 🤔
penn4pennies I think they would be cute if I was blind and deaf.
ynyn_unofficial you guys remember the fifth member..? yeah , no one does anymore .
danielricciardo I'm sure you can scare them more than that, baby!
thehitbandofficial @ danielricciardo alr fuck off with that mate 😭
ollieq._x @ thehitbandofficial Lmao
penn4pennies So... him back on the drums would be unprofessional, right?
ynyn_unofficial ugh
danielricciardo If I could, I would post you on my instagram too! ♥😚
ynyn_unofficial what's stopping you?
danielricciardo PR would have me for the ungodly paragraphs I would say about you in the caption! 😢🙌 I would profess my love to you all over again and they'll hate it!
ynyn_unofficial huh , that wasn't where i thought that was going.
danielricciardo The rest are reserved for the bedroom 😉😊
penn4pennies Okay, you're banned from ever stepping foot near the studio.
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you support me best on tumblr with reblogs and comments ! by andcar
#🔖 . DR3#: 🔗 social media#daniel ricciardo#daniel ricciardo imagine#daniel ricciardo x reader#daniel ricciardo x you#daniel ricciardo fanfic#daniel ricciardo fic#f1 imagine#f1 x you#f1 x reader#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 scenarios#formula one imagine#formula 1 imagines
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Just Sit On It
Spooky x f!reader
Warnings: 18+. bit of fluff and flirting, bit of cockwarming, very much self-insert (inspired by yesterdays events), no use of y/n
Word count: 980
A/N: I had to give this to my favourite boy🤷🏾♀️
(Not my gif.)
"You want me to just sit on it?" You ask with fake annoyance in your voice and a quirk in your brow. Spooky chuckled and nodded, a little glimmer in his eye as he looked at you. You two had just finished... whatever round of sex that was, you'd lost count after a while. Both of you high as fuck and missing each other after months of no physical contact, chuck it up to being adults with busy schedules. Sucked.
You were done, out of it and tired— growing a bit sore from how he handled you, not like you'd complain anyway you liked it. You thought he was done too, when you attempted to bait him into one last round he'd respectfully hit you with, "Nah I'm tired for real."
You shrugged and put your shirt back on, chilling in the comfortable silence aside from your music softly playing in the background. You hated a quiet room, especially during sex. But it only took a few minutes for his shirt to come back off claiming to be hot... well it was hot, summer was approaching a lot quicker than it usually did and it was the type of heat to make you angry and irritated with any and everything.
As he lay on his stomach you smiled gazing at his back, how smooth and muscular it was, clean and free of tattoos, unlike the rest of his body. He felt your eyes and asked what was up. You told him you wanted to sit on his back and he let you, you drew faint art on his beautiful skin, and ran your finger down his deep spine. Oof, you loved a deep spine, something about the depth of it was so sexy.
Soon he mentioned he wanted to take off his pants. Again, he was "hot." So you got off and he took off more than just his pants, he nodded over for you to come back and you say there. "I thought you said you were good?"
"I am."
"So why would I just sit on it if you're good?" You challenged with a smirk on your face. Spooky wasn't about to have this back and forth, actions were louder so he sat up and reached over for you, cupping your meaty thigh in his large hand and pulling you on top of him. You gasped feeling him against your sore and yet aching clit.
"Just sit." He shrugged. "And this is comfortable for you?"
He nodded reaching for your hands, interlocking your fingers with his. God, he was just so fucking cute sometimes. You looked down at him as he looked up at you, nothing was said and that's what you liked about your dynamic, you two could just sit like this. Naked or half naked talking about whatever was on your mind or not talking at all.
Adorn by Miguel had come on and you began to hum and absentmindedly move around, for a brief moment forgetting you were both naked on your lower halves. Spooky smiled it was always nice to see you comfortable around him considering when you first met you were so shy you wouldn't even look at him.
He let go of your hands and rested his warm palms on your hips. "Come here."
You beamed and with no hesitation leaned over to meet his lips. Your hands rested on either side of his neck, your lips moving in sync— you could kiss that man all day if it was possible. You felt the bottom of your shirt hike up and pool over your lower back, his hands on your bare ass once again. His favourite part to grab.
One last peck and you pulled back. Spooky noticed the look on your face, a look he was too familiar with— when you wanted to say something but you were too chickenshit to say it, still a bit reserved with your thoughts even though it was clear you could be open and honest with him. "Say it. I could see it in your face."
You sighed all this temptation was getting to you. "You wanna put it in?" He asked. You bit your lip and nodded, silently thanking God that he was a mind reader at times. You leaned forward reaching between your bodies you gently wrapped your hand around his girth and slowly sunk down on him, he always stretched you out so nicely.
And that was it, you just sat on it and it was nice (?) and warm... really warm and slick. You actually did not want to move but he did, pushing his hips up into yours, you placed your hand on his chest saying, "Wait, don't move."
He stopped his actions and resumed holding hands with you. "You're so pretty." He complimented, you blushed looking to the side so he wouldn't notice how embarrassing it was that you couldn't take compliments, especially from him. Your slight distraction was cut short when you felt him move, you giggled turning to him. "Stop..."
He did it again. "Stop what?"
"Spooky... I can feel it- ouu, stop."
He rested his hands under his head and let out a hearty laugh at how flustered you were until he was now feeling something, with your hands planted on his chest you looked down at him with a knowing look. He let out a shaky moan when you did it again. "You stop."
"Stop what?"
"Baby, shit, I can feel you tightening around me." You were easily flexing your walls around him in retaliation. He pushed his hips up into you causing you to moan and fall forward, he did it again, carefully thrusting in and out of you-- your pretty love faces like artwork, his favourite thing to watch. You sucked your teeth in realization.
"Did you just bait me into another round?"
"Always."
Slick motherfucker.
Y’all… oof I had to. I’m still reminiscing. I miss my man😭
If you liked this fic feel free to like this fic
Comments and reblogs are appreciated.
Peace and love🤞🏾
🏷️ : @skyesthebomb @darqchilddaydreamz @realhotgurlshit
#marleywrites#marleysfanfictions#spooky#fluff#spooky fanfic#on my block fanfic#spooky x reader#spooky fanfiction#smut#spooky x fem!reader#spooky smut
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Booty, we have so many already butttt elevator scene rewrite. Pls! I’ll love you forever! Rough sex and everything. Homelander has to leave Starlight destroyed in the elevator. bc fuck Hughie. <3
Between the Floors
Here you go anon. Tumblr exclusive... 🫶🏼. Love you too!!! I'll probably throw this on ao3 later, but enjoy I hope I did what you wanted.
Starlight strode down the busy Vought Tower corridor to the elevator. As she walked by certain employees, they would either nod when they saw her or even look at her respectfully. All eyes would be on her no matter what she had done. They loved their superhero as the perfect, unfailing image of purity and righteousness.
A blast of cool air and the gentle whirr of machinery greeted her at the elevator door in contrast to the movement in the open corridor. Starlight stepped through as the doors shut themselves.
As the doors were about to close, a hand slipped between them, preventing them from closing. Starlight paused for a long moment as the doors were held open. Her surprise was mixed with a hint of curiosity as she turned to see who had stopped the elevator.
The elevator door opened fully to reveal a tall, charismatic figure. Homelander stood there, his face devoid of any emotion. He stepped into the elevator, his presence instantly filling the enclosed space. His sharp blue eyes met Starlight's momentarily before he casually stood behind her with no words.
Starlight watched him and swallowed before speaking, "Hey... Homelander."
Homelander let the silence linger for a moment longer before reaching out and touching the emergency stop button.
As Homelander's finger pushed down the emergency stop button, Starlight's heart began beating a little faster from surprise. The elevator stopped with a lurch, and the silence gave way to anticipation.
Homelander almost caught the fleeting suspicion from Starlight. His face was blank as he turned to focus on her. It felt like his eyes were drilling into her, watching every step she took, waiting for how she would respond.
Homelander sighed deeply before speaking with a chilling voice, "Maeve… Maeve begged me to let you live…. So, I gave you a second chance. And you... failed me."
Starlight shuddered at Homelander's words. The flat tone spelled danger, and her heart rate picked up again. Her voice was cracking; the fear started slipping through even as she tried to hold it together. "W-what are you talking about?" Starlight stammered, her voice barely above a whisper.
Homelander clicked his tongue before focusing on her and shook his head, "No more lies."
Starlight's heart dropped at Homelander's words. He seemed looking right through her, and she gave up trying to deny it. She hesitated and then gave up trying to answer.
Homelander's hand snapped out with the speed of a striking snake and wrapped around her neck. Starlight was taken by surprise with the unexpected attack. Homelander pressed her against the wall, squeezing harder while depriving her of air for a few seconds as she gasped. She reached for his arm to dislodge his hand instinctively.
The impact caused her vision to blur a bit. She could not help but panic. She opened her mouth and tried to speak, but she was too far gone now, too petrified as she peered into the frozen orbs of Homelander's eyes.
Homelander maintained his hold on her throat, tight enough to remind her how easily he could kill her. He moved in a bit closer, now little more than inches from her face. "Go ahead and scream as much as you want," he snarled, his voice tinged with disappointment and rage. His fingers tightened slightly around Starlight's throat, squeezing it just enough to make her gasp for air again.
Starlight tensed as Homelander's hand slid down her superhero costume, though she could feel how hot his hand was even through the fabric. She winced as he dug into her stomach, causing her to shiver in response.
Starlight felt a painful pressure as Homelander's knifelike hand pressed harder into her stomach. She gritted her teeth, trying to keep her voice steady. "Wh-what... did I do?" She gasped, the words struggling to escape as he continued applying pressure.
Homelander's intense gaze bore into hers as he spoke, his voice soft but dangerous at the same time. "I told you to kill Hugh Campbell, and you hesitated," he sneered, digging his hand harder into her stomach now.
Starlight's eyes widened in surprise and fear as Homelander's hand pressed even harder into her stomach, the pain becoming sharper. She grunted softly, her body tensing under the pressure. "I... I said we should go to the police..." she tried to protest, her voice shaky.
Homelander's grip on her throat tightened further as he spoke, his voice a dangerous whisper now. "You disobeyed my orders because you're with him," he said, his fingers pressing deeper into her stomach.
Starlight's mouth opened wide as a moan of pain slipped out; she could feel his fingers threatening to puncture her body.
Homelander's eyes flickered with anger and satisfaction as he felt her body respond to the pressure he was exerting. She almost had no voice left, and the pain in her groan made him feel even more like he was powerful and entirely in control of her. His hand was like a burning brand on her belly, and the burn increased with every passing moment.
There was no more room for conversation as the only sound was Starlight's pained scream, which only spurred Homelander on. He continued to press his fingers into her stomach, holding her against the wall with a vice-like grip.
As she struggled to speak, her words came out in short gasps and wails of pain, the pressure Homelander was exerting on her stomach making it difficult for her to draw a full breath. He leaned in closer, his face just inches away from hers, relishing his power over her.
"F-f-fuck you. Hughie Campbell broke my fucking heart... w-worse than anyone ever has-s..." Her gloved hands still scrambled at the wrist of his hand around her throat as she continued in a stammer. "And part of me w-wants to blast his fucking face off, so no, I'm not with him." Starlight managed to force out her words despite her difficulty breathing, and her anger and pain were evident in her voice. "But if you want to kill me because I'm not a murderer and I won't straight up execute someone, then go ahead."
Homelander's eyes darkened further at Starlight's words. Her defiance only seemed to fuel his anger and possessiveness even more. He could feel her body shaking against his grip, the combination of pain and emotion causing her voice to tremble.
Starlight was filled with pain and fear despite the defiance in her voice. Homelander felt the tension in her body as he held onto his grip on her; it only made him want to assert more dominance over this woman.
Her ears were filling with her own heartbeat, and panic was swirling in her head as Homelander's hand tightened around her throat. She fought to maintain her composure, but the pressure of his fingers against her skin was beginning to wear her down. "So, tell m-me, am I-I lying," she managed to choke out.
Homelander glowered down at Starlight, the grip on her throat tightening more as he considered her words. He leaned in closer, his body nearly pressed against hers, his voice cold and calculated. "No, you're not lying..."
Homelander trailed off momentarily to notice the slightest bump in Starlight's heart rate. As much aggression and anger as he had for her, he could not help but notice how softly she breathed in proximity to him now. He held her by the neck, but his eyes dilated slightly as he observed her face. A flicker of curiosity seemed to cross his features, and he continued to hold her pinned against the wall, his body close enough to feel the heat radiating from her skin.
Homelander could hear the small, involuntary sounds of her breathing, the way her chest rose and fell rapidly. Despite the pain he was causing her, there was a hint of something more primal and intense building between them at that moment.
Homelander leaned a little closer, his breath hot against her ear as he spoke, his voice low and dangerous. "You're not as good at lying as you think," he hissed, his fingers digging into her skin just a bit more as he pressed against her.
The warmth of his skin next to hers now filled Starlight with a sense of vulnerability. Her heart sped up to match the cadence of her racing thoughts. The combination of fear and panic ran wild in her veins, but something more she couldn't name rose as well and fueled the emotions inside her.
As she heaved with ragged breath, her ample chest rose and hell repeatedly. Homelander's gaze focused on her breasts and the way she responded to him, her heart hammering in her chest, the feel of her skin under his fingertips.
His hand softened instead of digging into her stomach, and slowly, he slid it up her chest. Starlight's eyes widened in surprise at the unexpected gesture. Her breathing hitched, and fear and something else flared within her. While he was a threat and dangerous, she could not help but like the way her body shuddered for this man.
His hand went higher and higher until it closed gently around the curve of her breast through the costume. Her skin heated beneath his fingers as she felt her heart rate heighten even more, and a secretive smile crept up his lips as he listened to her heart race again.
One of Homelander's hands teased at the low-cut neckline of her supersuit, and Starlight's eyes were drawn to it. His fingers moved around the fabric, teasing her sensitive skin. She was aware of his gaze on her face, observing every move and noting every gesture.
He caressed her collarbone with firm but tender fingers. He knew he affected her; the way her chest rose and fell with every breath, the way her eyes darkened just a fraction as he touched her. His fingers teased the edge of her neckline, slipping under the fabric and gently brushing against her skin. Her heart's thumping grew faster, as did the tension surrounding them.
Starlight's breath hitched as Homelander played with the edge of her costume while running his hands down her body, not just because she was afraid of what he might do but because her body betrayed her, reacting to his touch in a way that surprised both of them, and she tried to contain herself.
Homelander grinned, and Starlight sucked in a sharp breath, feeling the soft skin beneath her super suit started to harden his cock. He saw her fear and lust etched in the way she looked at him as he kept touching her, his fingers drawing designs on her skin.
Starlight responded as if on autopilot, purring in the back of her throat and relaxing into his exploring. Her hands gripped his arms, unsure if she wanted to push him away or pull him forward. "Y-you didn't tell me. W-was I lying?" Starlight tried to keep her voice from trembling and repeated her question.
Homelander's hand stopped for a moment, and his fingers lay flat against her breast. Head tilted, he looked at her as if surprised by her interruption. Finally, an almost-inaudible, near-lethal drawl slipped out, "I don't know. I haven't decided yet." He pulled the edge of her collar away as he answered, "I'm far too preoccupied." With that, he lowered his head and kissed her neck gently, his teeth finding a tender spot and nipping at her skin. Starlight gasped in response and held his arms even tighter. But her body responded to his touch, the pool of heat in her core growing.
Homelander continued to tease her skin, his teeth and lips working their way along her throat, his hands roaming her body in a possessive yet gentle way. He seemed to enjoy the way she responded to his touch, the way her body betrayed her despite her best efforts to remain stoic.
Starlight's breathing grew ragged and uneven, the feel of his teeth and lips on her skin sending waves of pleasure through her. She tried to push him away, but her hands only seemed to hold him tighter, her body responding to his touch in ways she couldn't control.
As Homelander unzipped the front of Starlight's super suit, he exposed more of her body to the cool air around them. His predatory expression moved over her body with a fierce, hungry gaze.
Homelander's tongue slowly dragged over his fangs as he stared at Starlight's breasts that were hidden behind the unzipped material of her costume. His eyes darkened with lust as he placed his hands on her hips, mapping out the curves of her body. "You really are quite beautiful," he murmured, his voice low and dangerous. "A shame you had to go and lie to me."
Starlight's eyes darkened as Homelander's hands began to slide the fabric of her costume over her shoulders, exposing her breasts to the cool air. She could feel her heart pounding against her ribcage, the heat from his body warming her skin even more.
Homelander's eyes bore into her flesh, hands gliding over her skin as sensations of euphoria swept through her. She tried to fight, but her body arched into his touch. His hands coasted over her body.
Starlight's breathing was labored, and the touch of his hand moving against her sent liquid heat through her veins. His erection pressed against her thigh, and her body seemed to unconsciously roll her hips, which was also strangely intentional.
Homelander's hands roamed over Starlight's body, and he felt her respond to him—the warmth of her skin under his touch. His fingers ran over her breasts, teasing at her nipples, drawing gasps of pleasure from her lips. His hand slid down further, teasing at the waistband of her costume, pulling it down further to expose more and more of her skin to his gaze.
His lips found her neck again, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin as he whispered against her ear, his voice dark and dangerous. "You should have told me the truth, Starlight," he said, his hand sliding down her stomach and over the exposed skin. "But it's not too late to make it up to me."
Starlight's breathing grew even more ragged as his hand slid lower, her body quivering in anticipation. His breath was hot on her skin, and his teeth nipped at her ear. She knew she was toeing the line, but the way he caressed her and the way he teased her made it hard to resist. She could feel herself surrendering to the feeling, her body melting beneath the intoxicating caress. The heat and gentleness of his fingers as they pressed into the folds of her pussy caused her legs to part for him effortlessly.
Starlight groaned as his fingers slid into her opening, and his thumb circled around her clit. It was heavenly, and she was writhing with the way he fingered her. Her fingers found their way to his hair, clutching him as he worked her over, her breathy moans echoing through the space. Her pussy tightened around his fingers, her thighs shaking as she came apart around him. She collapsed against him, her body shaking with the aftershocks of her orgasm. His mouth found her ear again. "That was only a taste," he said, his fangs nipping at her earlobe. "I want more, Starlight."
As he spoke, he pulled his hand away from her pussy, his fingers slick with her cum. He brought them to his mouth, sucking them clean, the taste of her flooding his senses. He felt his cock getting stiffer at the sight of her boneless against the elevator wall, her body exposed and ready for him to take. He leaned over her, his mouth finding hers once more.
While they kissed, Homelander's fingers found their way to her pussy again, teasing her entrance as they pressed inside. His mouth swallowed her moans as he worked his fingers in and out of her, stretching her to take more him. His lips were wet against hers, his tongue tangling with hers as he continued to fingerfuck her.
The sensation was almost too much to bear. Starlight's moans echoed through the metal box, her body shaking as he worked her toward another orgasm. The feeling was so good, her body melting into him as he kissed her, his fingers curling inside of her. She came apart around him, her muscles clenching around his fingers as she orgasmed again.
This time, Homelander didn't pull away. Instead, he continued to kiss her, his tongue tangling with hers as he worked her through her orgasm. His hands found their way to her hips, lifting her off of the wall and pulling her legs around him. His lips didn't leave hers as he pressed her back against the elevator wall, holding her body flush against his. His tongue continued to dance with hers, his hands roaming over her body, touching her skin as if trying to commit every inch of her body to memory.
Their bodies were pressed tightly together, the feel of her skin against his driving him wild. He could feel the heat from her body, the way she trembled and quivered against him.
Homelander's hands fumbled with his golden eagle belt, his body shaking with anticipation as he tried to free himself. He felt wild, feral, possessed by a need that made his fingers clumsy and his breath in ragged gasps. As he finally managed to get his belt unbuckled and his spandex lowered, he pressed himself against her body, his bare skin against hers, their bodies molding together as if they were made for each other. She was so wet, so hot against his cock, and he knew he wouldn't last long once he was inside her.
He pressed the head of his cock against her entrance, her pussy slick with her arousal, and she was already trembling with pleasure as he pushed in. His lips broke away from hers as he groaned loudly, her body clenching around him as he began to thrust. "Fuck," he gasped against her lips, "You. Feel. So. Fucking. Amazing."
Starlight's eyes were glazed, her cheeks flushed, her lips swollen. He couldn't look away from her face as he fucked her, her expression so fucking beautiful. He could see how much she enjoyed it, how she loved the feel of his cock inside of her.
Her fingers were digging into his back, her nails scratching against his spandex top as she pulled him closer to her, her body undulating against his. "Harder," she whispered, "I can take it."
He grinned, his lips brushing against hers, and he gave her what she asked for. He fucked her harder, his cock slamming in and out of her body, her body shaking against his. The way her body quivered with every thrust was addictive, and he wanted more.
She moaned loudly, her eyes rolling back as he fucked her, her pussy tightening around his cock. It wasn't enough to make him cum, but he could tell she was close again. He didn't want to cum until he was sure she'd found her release again.
Homelander shifted his body slightly, his cock angling upwards as he thrust inside of her. Her breath caught in her throat, her eyes widening as he hit the spot inside of her that made her whole body tremble.
"God," Starlight moaned, her voice hoarse with pleasure. "God, right there." He continued to hit that spot with every thrust, his cock driving in and out of her body, her pussy tightening around him. Her nails dug into his super suit, her body shaking against his, her legs tightening around his waist. He was fucking her harder now, his cock hammering in and out of her.
He could feel himself getting closer and closer, her body trembling around him, her pussy clenching around his cock, her nails digging into his top. He could feel himself losing control, his hips plunging hard into her over and over, his cock driving inside of her; the way she started to tighten around his cock made his balls tighten.
He could hear her moaning, her breath gasping as she took his cock, her body shaking against his as he fucked her. Her body was trembling with pleasure; she was close to coming; he could feel it in the way her body tensed up against his. Her eyes were closed, her mouth open as she panted through the pleasure.
Homelander was intent on fucking her through the metal wall of the elevator with how hard his hips were snapping. His cock was buried inside her body. He was fucking her like a man possessed like he couldn't get enough of her. His lips brushed against her ear, his teeth scraping against her earlobe as he fucked her.
"Come for me," he whispered, his cock slamming in and out of her body. "Come for me, baby." Her body tensed up, her pussy clenching around his cock, her nails digging, ripping through the spandex. Her whole body shook with the force of her orgasm, her breath coming out in ragged gasps.
He didn't stop, his hips still moving hard into hers as she came. He wanted to feel her clenching around his cock, wanted to feel her come all over his cock. His breath came out in ragged gasps, his own pleasure building in his balls. He would come any second now; he could feel it but didn't want to.
He wanted to feel her cum again.
Homelander redoubled his movements and fucked her harder, his hips colliding into hers, his cock filling her body, his balls slapping against her ass. His lips found hers, kissing her, his tongue filling her mouth, his hand holding her neck as he fucked her.
"Come for me again," he whispered, his voice breathless, his breath coming out in ragged gasps.
Starlight's body tensed up, her pussy clenching around his cock. Her body shuddered with the force of her orgasm, her breath coming out in irregular gasps. He felt how tight she clenched around his cock. He was so close to coming, his balls aching.
Homelander's pleasure building in his balls, his body tensing up, his hips slamming into hers. He came deep inside of her, his cock spurting rope after rope of cum inside her body. His hips slammed into hers one last time before he pulled out, his cock slipping from her body. Her legs shook as they released her, holding herself up against the wall of the elevator.
Homelander's breathing was ragged and uneven, his body heaving with exertion. His eyes were dark and dangerous as he looked at Starlight, his hands still gripping her hips, keeping her pinned against the wall. "That was..." he stated, thick with awe. "That was... something."
Starlight shook all over; gasping for breath, her chest heaved. She was haggard, her eyes half-closed, and her hair a disheveled mass of sweat and curls. "Yeah," she croaked, still a little hoarse from all her moaning. "Yeah, it was…"
Homelander let her slip to the floor, her legs spread out akimbo style, and his gaze wandered over her body, taking in the sight of her, completely spent and exhausted. "Well..." he said, his voice thick with satisfaction. "You weren't lying…"
Homelander grabbed his gloves from across the elevator in the railing and released the emergency stop; he glanced over her bare body.
Starlight's eyes popped open as she heard the emergency stop release. Lost in the moment, she had forgotten all about where they were. She grasped for her super suit, trying to hide the fact that she was naked, but Homelander caught her eyes before she could blush.
Homelander scanned her body, his eyes flickering up and down her nude frame, once more, "You should cover up..."
#my ao3#my fics#bootyanswers#bootytalks#the boys fanfic#the boys smut#the boys fic#fanfic#starlander#homelander#starlight#homelight#the boys#the boys fandom#the homelander#homelander fic#homelander fanfiction#homelander x starlight#starlight the boys
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That one flight home
part 6 to That one Christmas flight
summary: Kiss me hard before you go.
warning: oral sex, cheesy af, swear words I guess, cliche probably, typos most definitely
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/995c445dbee2f6cb643994b0baa3528c/605222bb5fcd125b-e5/s540x810/2c9ef0283b6c3616d64c897232edb268770b41dd.jpg)
It's inevitably a strange experience to wake up next to someone you'd never slept next to before. Y/N kept waking up as her heart was testing the limits of the amount of heartbeats a human body can entail before it becomes a condition. She watched Lando, as he snored ever so quietly, saving every moment in her memory. Unlike her, Lando was used to sleepless nights. And unlike her, the strangest part of their first night together for him was the fact he fell asleep in the middle of his sentence. So simple, so easy. His mind and soul safe and sound. Perhaps he made the leap of the first night slumber on the first flight, when she rested her head on his shoulder for almost six hours.
When he woke up, she was standing by the window, watching whatever seemed to be happening on the street. He stayed silent, admiring the figure and the way light higlighted her curves. Only once she turned around, he spoke to her.
"Hey you...early morning person, I see," he grunted, wanting nothing more that to return to any of their previous activities, starting with cuddling.
"Yeah, sadly so. Would love to sleep til 12 sometimes," she said and glanced over to him morning boner. Lando noticed her look and shook his head.
"What can I say, impossible to control that."
"I like it, it's cute!"
"Did you just call my boner cute? Ouch," he pretended to get hurt.
She returned back to the bed. "It's cute that you have one."
"Hard to imagine not having one." They locked their lips having absolutely no care in the world for morning breath.
//
"Breakfast?" she asked, hungry as ever. It was a hard decision as she absolutely loved being locked in his embrace.
Lando had something different in mind, but god he was starving.
They got dressed and lazily strolled downstairs to a lovely breakfast patio. Y/N was over the moon internally about how touchy Lando became with her. His and on her lower back was something she could get used to very quickly. Y/N noticed few looks coming their way as they sat down and could not quite pin down why. First thing on her mind was that they looked a cute couple. She disregarded that as she remembered that she was sitting here with Lando Norris.
"Did you notice that people were looking at us?" she remarked over her morning coffee.
"Yeah...But like in a different way than they usually stare at me. Fuck it honestly, we have few hours before return to the madness so let's just chill," he smiled without a care in the world. Y/N relaxed again. They chatted away for few minutes before an older Italian lady, one of the fellow guests, approached them. Lando was almost ready for a photograph and a plea for confidentiality - that was until she opened her mouth and started screaming at them in Italian. He had no idea what any of those words meant, so he searched for a clue on Y/N's face. The poor girl sat there with a red face, making it really hard for Lando not to laugh at this situation, so he sipped his tea to hide his mouth. Once this lady left, silence fell over. Quite few people were giving them looks.
"Was she commenting on my hair?" asked Lando to ease the tension. "I am having an exceptionally good hair day."
Y/N took a deep breath. "From what I've gathered, we are both absolute filthy pigs, who have no manners and use this nice hotel as a brothel."
"Ah, nice. Cool!" Lando respectfully waved at the angry lady.
"Do you think we were like loud yesterday?" It was wrong how proud it had been making him.
"We're in Italy for god sake, isn't it all suppose to be little louder here?"
Y/N shot him a look. He sent her a wink.
Time was a cruel lady. The pair was starting to reach the final minutes of their encounter. The quickly wrapped up their breakfast, sharing amused looks in silence. Lando felt a strange discomfort when he saw her checking out the time.
//
They were back kissing in their hotel room in minutes. It was impossible to do anything else. They were making out on the bed when the housekeeper came in. Lando stopped them in the door: "Late check out, please! Late check out. Yeah, thanks." He then turned back to Y/N. "I'm not done with you, honey." With a cheeky look on his eyes, he began to remove Y/N's shorts and underwear.
"Pretty," he commented once she was naked. She rolled her eyes and bit her tongue. Lando went onto putting slow kisses from her feet all the way to her thighs, testing which spots worked the best. Once he was almost the top of her thighs, he looked up to her and gently bit. When he saw that she was ok with it, he used more force. Y/N let out a shy scream of pain, the kind of pain that is dancing on the edge of pleasure and aching.
She moaned his name softly, as his tongue continued where it had started and abruptly ended the night before. She touched his hair and held his head in the place. Lando enjoyed her being demanding. He varied his moves and meticulously burned her reactions into his memory as if he was suppose to be completing his exams on this. Once he fund the specific moves she responded to the most, he repeated those until she could not continue no more. He watched as she reached the high for two times. There were few things making him feel genuinely proud of himself like this has. This what people meant when they described mindblowing, Y/N realized. "Come here to me," she demanded once she was done. Lando went to cuddle with her, face to face, watching her breath slowing down again. The laid like this for few minutes, neither of them wanting to break the silence. Until one of them had to.
"We'll need to get going so you don't miss your flight," Lando whispered. Y/N wanted nothing else then to miss her flight and stay stuck in this room with him.
"Yeah, I know. Just one more minute."
//
The drive to the airport was unusually quiet. Lando had his flight later than Y/N did, but insisted on going with her earlier to accompany her. Airports were becoming her least favorite thing, as another goodbye was knocking on the door. They held hands casually all the way to the check in. Another last kiss. The kind to leave sting.
"Give me something of yours. So that I have something to remind me of you," he asked softly. Taken back a bit, Y/N took her necklace off and handed it to him and exchanged it for Lando's hoodie.
Y/N was the last passenger to board the plane taking her back home. Lando had the same coffee at the same place as he did yesteday, only this time it had a weirdly bitter aftertaste. He played with her necklace, she wore his hoodie trying to soak his perfume in while it was still fresh.
//
First hangover is always the worst. Pains in weird places one did not know existed, blood flowing in a strange pace. Everything slightly out of place and sun just a little too bright on the tired eyes. Y/N got drunk a little too quickly on her racer crush and the come down was more like a vertical crash down.
The evening she arrived back home was a joyous one. She got out the plane and almost danced all the way to the train heading to the centre. Met up with her friends and would just not shut up about her time with Lando. Unstoppable force that would talk the most skilled politician into listening her talk about the way his hair curled and his touch burned. Like every other drug addict, once the reality hit and the high lost its intense hue, she crashed.
What was supposed to happen now? Monday morning rolled in and new chapter began. The darkest thoughts she kept at bay for long enough got landed the main role. It was just a hook up to him. Nothing more. He was way beyond her league. She gave him what he wanted and he will not be able to give her what she wants. He is already is somebody else's arms by now. All the other guys will be just a different shade of gray compared to the bright orange that followed his charming aura.
"Y/N? Yes, she is a hard to get bitch, she will not fall easily for just about anyone. Not the relationship kind, that's for sure", is how she'd probably get described as by her friends. Her best kept secret was that she was an absolute hopeless romantic. Fell a little too hard for every crush she had and never found a way how to attract those she wished to spend her days and nights with. Her evening with Lando was the closest she got to her deepest dreams coming true. Every other situationship she has had in the past was so dull compared the how loudly this one screamed. So of course, when no messages came in from him, her natural instinct to draw herself back kicked in. A lovely coping mechanism that has destroyed lots of chances in the past. Even though she was well aware of that, it was the road she knew how to walk and somehow could not help herself to avoid it.
A lifeless copy of the bubbly girl from this weekend roamed the halls of Bologna university, digging her self into a deeper hole than needed. All those sad songs suddenly made sense.
//
Life came back screaming loudly at Lando. As soon as he landed back it was one thing after another to make up for the time. Races comes first, always. Even if it does not on that day naturally, there will always be several people to force it upon him. In those randomly scattered moment where his mind could run freely, he immediately went back to the salt cured late night air in Italy and the kisses with the one who'd been occupying his mind for longer than he'd be willing to admit. Life demanded a lot from him, so daydreaming had to be put on hold.
One thought haunted Lando no matter how much he tried to ignore it. Y/N was just so pure in his eyes. Unaffected by clouds of fame, free in whatever she wanted to do whenever she desired to. Not having to face constant criticism and prying looks. He still hadn't processed fully the effect this has had on his relationships in the past. How it gradually changed the tone of the romance, until it destroyed it completely. He fell for her hard. Fascinated by the lightness that surrounded her. She radiated, lifting him up to her heights when he was with her and that was something you just could not buy.
She was grounded. Belonged somewhere, was a local and a regular. Had a life centred in one place (mostly, excluded family), group of university friends and was figuring this life out on her own, without anyone inserting their own ambitions into her. There were no people relying on how she did and he almost envied the freedom this provided her. A feeling he was sure she could not properly understand, as he did not as well before responsibility had been thrusted on him.
He loved his formula 1 life. But a part of him felt strangely inadequate around those who have had these student life experiences. She could do anything.
He needed time to think about his next move, if there was any to ever happen. Gut feeling was to fly her out here to spend time with him, introduce her to everyone that walked by and make sure she falls for him at least half as strongly as he fell for her. On the other hand, he also felt like clumsy giant trying to pick up an origami dove - once he would, he would inevitably crush her and damage the wings, the kind of she did not know she had. The kind of wings one starts to see only once they are impaired. Maybe keeping their affair as it was now was the only way how to keep the light in this memory.
But at night, when the noises of his busy life went quiet and the the intrusive thought we like "yeah baby, let's go", he buried himself deep in his favorite sad songs and dreamed of touching her again, of seeing her smile and of her proudly introducing him to her friends. Sleep was something Lando struggled with even on a normal day, but on days like these it was like as if it was a secret language he was never taught to speak.
//
Jealous. That’s what Y/N was. In the ugliest sense of the sinful word. Gone was any internal morale compass guiding her to not go against other girls. Feminism said goodbye when she scrolled down endless adoring comments on his fan page.
She did not give two shits about his fame or god forbid money. When she met him, she had no idea what he meant to so many people. A cheeky well dressed funny boy with a dream, that’s what she saw. Seeing the pure adoration thousands of people had for him was overwhealming. So in the random moments between other people talking, she imagined meeting him in another life, one where he was just one of the other students and she finally got to relive the uni romance she had wished for - cute study dates, making out at parties and sitting at local balconies, over looking the historical town. It was becoming a little too consuming. Like a headache that won’t go away.
She wondered why - why was there a huge ever-present hole in her stomach making her nauseous.
part 7
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Tagged all those who like to suffer: @prudyhoo @anuksunamon @sagestack @esquerkaren @ushygushybaby @ilove-tswizzle @thehufflepuffavenger1 @superlegend216 @mehrmonga @lovely-blackinnon @mylifeihate1029 @lausdigitaldiary @tswizzleismother @goldenharrysworld @llando4norris @classiclitfreak @llando4norris @ophcelia
#lando norris#lando norris smut#lando norris x reader#lando norris x you#lando norris fanfic#ln4 imagine#formula 1#formula one x reader#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#lando norris angst#meet cute#fluff#slowburn#slow burn fic#lando norris fluff#formula 1 fluff#formula 1 fanfic#ln4 x reader#i'm sorry#there will be more#smut#ln4 x y/n#lando norris x y/n
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Chuuya, Dazai, Nikolai, Akutagawa and Sigma(no need for all of them just do whichever ones you want) with a reader who is incredibly sassy, like reader is borderline about to get harrased but is still so chill and sassy like "Respectfully fuck off, and fuck yourself on a chainsaw so you get massacred In half so no one has to see your disgraceful behaviour anymore"
Omg I love this so much girlboss reader supremacy. Also I had to use your line there it was just too good. Enjoy♡♡
// sidenote I'm working on all your requests so even if it takes a bit longer for me to post, just know I'll do it eventually. Love y'all♡
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8:37◇
𝑺𝒊𝒈𝒎𝒂, 𝑫𝒂𝒛𝒂𝒊, 𝑪𝒉𝒖𝒚𝒂 𝒙 𝒇𝒆𝒎!𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓
𝑮𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: fluff/ silly
𝑪𝒉𝒖𝒚𝒂
it's either the best or the worst combination
he absolutely adores how bold you are and how you always stand up for yourself
but he sometimes wishes you needed him a little bit more
Chuya loves drinking wine; that's something everyone is aware of. What many people didn't know however is that the redhead also attended almost every wine tasting in town, especially the ones held by you, his darling girlfriend.
He relished that hour spent listening to you presenting each wine on the menu with such grace and passion. Naturally, your boyfriend knew how hard you worked to become a sommelier and was truly proud of you; the wine tastings held by you were the best he ever attended.
The only aspect that sometimes ruined the serene atmosphere of the tasting was... well, other men. Oh how he hated the way they fawned over you, utterly unaware that your boyfriend was sitting right next to them. This wouldn't even be such a problem if they didn't make filthy comments about you; but some of them really went overboard.
That night an especially repulsive attendant kept making snarky comments about you. Chuya could barely contain his anger when the man slapped your ass as you bent over to pour him some wine; the only thing that kept him from killing that bastard was the promise he made to you: that he wouldn't interrupt your show no matter what.
He simply gripped the armrests of his chair as the man burst out laughing.
With a smug smile on your face, you took the glass you just poured and handed it to the man.
"If you ever do that again I'll break this glass and shove the shards up your penis. Understood?" you said in a sweet voice, causing the man to quiver. He shifted uncomfortably in his chair and quickly straightened his back, uttering an apology.
Chuya's lips curled into a grin upon hearing your words. When he caught your gaze as you poured some wine to the man sitting opposite to him, he gave you a quick wink. Proud, he was so proud.
𝑫𝒂𝒛𝒂𝒊
you're equally sassy and he loves that
the two of you bring the best and worst out of one another but it's always so much fun
lowkey gets turned on when you say daring stuff
"Bella" groaned Dazai as you pulled him off of his chair "I've danced enough for tonight. My feet hurt"
"Nonsense love. Come on you know I love this song."
You slowly pulled your boyfriend towards the centre of the room. The underground bar you were currently at allotted a few square meters to a dancing area and of course, after a few drinks you wanted to dance too. Naturally, Dazai obliged you but it was currently midnight and you still wanted to keep going.
Not that he minded it that much; after all, what better way to spend the evening than being able to touch every inch of your body while the two of you swayed peacefully to a slow song?
After a few more songs you agreed to go back to the table.
"Hold on dear I'll go to the bathroom real quick" said your boyfriend as he gave your hand a little squeeze.
Much to his surprise when he retured from the toilet you were resting against the wooden table with a man hunched over you. His right arm was slowly making its way to your waist but you seemed utterly unfazed. As he walked closer, Dazai could hear the man talk to you.
"Come on pretty I know you want this. You've been tempting me all night long with those moves of yours."
Dazai could feel his blood boiling when he heard the man's daring words. He quickly walked closer just as you pushed the man away.
"In the most direspectful way, fuck off and fuck yourself on a chainsaw so you get massacred in half so no one has to see your disgraceful behaviour anymore you pathetic excuse of a man." you said in an angry voice.
The man, vexed by your words, turned his back to you and walked away, putting his middle finger up.
"Well bella I didn't know you could talk like that." said Dazai as he walked by your side.
"That asshole deserved it. The nerve I cannot believe it." you stated as you rolled your eyes, seemingly annoyed by the events that just took place.
"He truly did but love, don't let that man spoil the mood tonight. Besides..." he said as he took your soft hand in his and gently kissed it without breaking the eye contact. "The night is still young. How about we go home so I can cleanse you of that man's touch?"
"That's actually a good idea Osamu" you giggled as you drank the last sip of your drink and made your way up the flight of stairs, towards the exit.
𝑺𝒊𝒈𝒎𝒂
your sass and fiery attitude perfectly match his calm and composed demeanour
you're like the sun to his moon fr
he loves you a lot but sometimes you're a bit too much for him to handle. please be gentle.
Sigma marched into the room, his heels clicking on the marble floor. It was quite common for him to be summoned in the gambling area whenever a player was caught cheating or when a conflict escalated into a fight; but he never expected a case of sexual harassment.
As he approached the group of people with a stern look on his face he caught a glimpse of your figure. You were leaning against a table, a look of obvious annoyance on your face.
"What's going on here?" he asked calmly.
Your head snapped in his direction. "Oh darling here you are. I was just asking this fine gentleman here to leave the premises of the casino."
"Oh shut it bitch. What reason do you have to kick me out?" spat a man from the crowd as he stepped forward. His tie was loose and the first two buttons of his shirt were undone; by the glassy tint of his eyes Sigma could tell that he was really drunk.
"I saw you touching multiple women tonight, me included. This type of behaviour is not tolerated in our casino." you replied in a flat voice.
The man only grew more furious; he took step towards you, shoving a fat finger in your face. The golden rings on his hand caught the light of the chandeliers.
"And since when are you entitled to tell me what to do, huh? Didn't know you were the manager."
His words only fueled your rage and before Sigma could say anything, you slapped the man's hand away.
"Listen to me old man. Either you get out of here now or you stay." A wild grin rose to your lips as you continued speaking "But I will cut off those dirty hands of yours. And don't worry about the manager, I'm sure he'll approve of my actions, right darling?"
The man turned his face in Sigma's direction only to see him nod in agreement.
"I do, darling. Just try not to stain the carpet."
The perpetrator froze for a moment before mumbling a string of curses under his breath. He quickly stumbled out of the room.
Left with no other form of entertainment the crowd dissipated, leaving you and Sigma alone.
Your boyfriend exhaled deeply, the stern austere mask he put on crumbling. "Please never make me say that again, love" he said in a hushed voice, gaining a low chuckle from you.
"I know I'm sorry honey. Promise I won't." You closed the distance between the two of you and placed a chaste kiss on his lips. "But thank you for helping me out"
Snaking a hand around your waist, Sigma pulled you into a side hug. "Of course darling. I just don't want that man to make any complaints."
"Don't worry about that dear" you said with a sly smile on your face, your eyes glimmering with mischief. "After all, you're the manager."
#bsd#bungou stray dogs#bsd x reader#bsd fluff#dazai osamu#bsd dazai#dazai bsd#bsd chuya#bsd headcanons#chuya nakahara#chuya x reader#bsd chuuya#dazai x fem reader#dazai x reader#bsd sigma#sigma x reader#sigma#sigma bsd
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Afterglow
First timeline Hanma Shuji.
Warnings: smut, cherry popping, unprotected sex, fingering, prostitution, mentions of blood, slight dubcon, breeding kink if you squint, slight obsession, abuse/violence, slight angst, fluff at the end. MDNI - respectfully, GO AWAY!
Sitting in a large private room with a round table at a restaurant, Hanma Shuji could only smirk as the man in front of him begged him for forgiveness. “Please…I can pay it back. I will give all my earnings, just don't take my sister.” The man cried. His pleas fell on deaf ears. “You shouldn't bet what you don’t have.” Hanma laughed. The rest of the men laughed as well at the man’s pathetic attempt to keep the reaper from taking what he’s owed. “Toman will be collecting shortly…” He pauses and looks past the man and at the doorway behind him. His golden iris glowed with excitement at what or should we say who walked through the door. The innocent little dove that had no clue what was happening just so happened to be you. “(B/N), I got your text…what’s going on?” You question softly with a bit of worry on your tongue. Hanma’s mischievous giggle made you look up in his direction, it sent a small chill down his spine - you were radiating in pure innocence. The look of horror on your brother’s face when he noticed the reaper’s eyes land on your figure became noticeable.
Apparently, your brother put you down as collateral for a bet he couldn’t afford to lose. Did he win? Of course not. “Ohh…That’s quite fucked up. Putting your little sister up.❤️” The tall lanky male said with a wicked chuckle and smile, he began to walk towards you both. You thought you heard wrong, did he just say that your brother put you up, up for what?! “W-what is he talking about?” You ask as your body begins to tremble. “Are they forcing you to do something? If so, we can figure it out - I’ll get another job and pay-'' The tall male’s hand covered your mouth, muffling your words. Your brother couldn’t even look you in the eye. “(Y/N), I’m so sorry.” He said and was too ashamed of what he just did. He wanted to protest but he had no right, he put you in this position and single handley sold you off to Toman.
Looking down at the hand that kept you from speaking, you noticed the large tattoo on it. It read punishment (罰), the irony in seeing this only made your heart drop. You were going to be punished for someone else’s mistake. “Now, wave goodbye to your dear brother.” The man said and grabbed your wrist with his left hand and made you wave. Reading the tattoo on his left hand, you see that it reads sin (罪). The gears began to turn slowly inside your head. It made you nauseous - Hanma Shuji was the one taking you. He was known as the most ruthless and heartless person ever. You’ve heard the stories about Toman. Murder, extortion, fraud, gambling and expanding their territory into prostitution - he was all part of it.
After kicking your brother out and registering you as Toman’s property - he leads you towards the back of the building and lets you know you are getting escorted to your new ‘home’. Before the car arrived, your eyes were shifting every now and then between the doorway and Hanma. Despite the way people described him, it did him no justice - yes he was a monster but he was very handsome too. Golden eyes, black and gold tresses with rounded specs. You were staring a little too long at him that he got the wrong idea. Before you could even think about asking him a question, he spoke curtly. “Don’t even try it, a pretty thing like you needs to be in one piece for your assessment.” That twisted smile on his face had your knees shaking. He thought you were going to beg him to release you or that you were going to try and make a run for it.
Once the car arrived, he threw you in the back seat rather forcefully. You gasped and landed almost face first into the leather seats, with your ass hanging in the air - he got quite the view. When you managed to adjust yourself and the car began to pull away from the building, you spotted your older brother slouching on the street. He looked broken yet glad… The sight of him like this made your chest hurt. You began to cry when the anger bubbled over. You were angry at him and felt sorry for him. Did you not make enough to keep a roof over your heads? Why didn’t he come to you sooner instead of going to Toman? The thoughts were racing inside your head and your hands were trembling. Hanma startled you when he spoke. “Don’t you dare feel bad for him. He’s the reason you’re in this position. And the reason you will be raped over and over by men who don’t give a shit about you and your brother’s debt.” That maniacal tone made your blood run cold. He was right. You were sold off and will have to use your body to pay back every cent with interest.
The rest of the car ride remained quiet until you arrived at an office building. “Come on sweetheart…time to assess your worth.” His words only made the pain in your chest worse. Based on the building, it looked like a private practice office but there were a lot of Toman’s underlings with other women. Some of the women had bruises on their faces or gauze wrapped around what you could only assume were wounds. Faint sounds of coughing and sneezing made you almost forget that you were at an irregular doctor’s office…ohhhh. This is what he meant by assessment, you were going to be given a complete physical. Walking down the hall, The comments along the way amongst the other men were sickening. ‘You think we'll be able to fuck her?’ ‘Fuck, I want to eat her out.’ ‘Look at the tits on her…she’ll sell very nicely.’ ‘I wonder what pricing Kisaki will have on her.’ More and more these cruel comments made your body tremble. Hanma remained behind you with a firm hand on your shoulder to keep you from running. It would be foolish to even try. Your vision began to get blurry as tears welled in your eyes, the life you knew was over.
Hanma pulled you into one of the examination rooms and you were met with a doctor, he looked…well, normal except he had a cast on his arm. Soon his normal appearance became distorted when he smiled - the disturbing smile on his face made you pause. Hanma nudged you. “Come on now sweetheart….it’s just protocol. We need to assess our new merchandise.❤️” That fucked up playful tone made a chill run down your spine. He made you step forward and he closed the door behind him. “Ah, you’re the new girl, welcome.” His tone was heavy and you could also feel him looking through your clothes. You turned to look at Hanma and he only smirked at you, he was going to be here the entire time this man put his hands on you.
You were instructed to take your clothes off, you figured you were going to get a gown but the doctor said no. They needed to assess all of you. In nothing but your undergarments, you tried to cover yourself as best as possible but Hanma flashed you a look of disapproval. “What are you going to do to me?” You ask the doctor and stand in place. The doctor took out his clipboard and began taking notes, shifting his gaze between you and the clipboard, he didn’t answer your question. “Stand up straight and let your hands fall to your sides.” He said almost sweetly. When you hesitated, you saw Hanma walk towards your direction, his eyebrows were furrowed and his golden eyes were burning into you. His hands reached to grip yours and forcefully set them in place. It hurt, your wrists were turning red from the amount of force he was using. “Sorry dollface, Kisaki hates wasting time.” That faux apologetic tone made you sick.
“He’ll need to take your measurements - you see, he broke my arm last week.” The doctor says smiling and hands Hanma the fabric measuring tape. His cold hands made your breath hitch. It made him chuckle and he continued brushing your skin teasingly just to get you to react. When he got to measuring your bust, he first palmed your breasts and made you gasp. Oh that sound of innocence, could you be…? “I’m guessing you’re a(n) [X] cup.” He says smirking and rubs his thumbs over the cups of your bra. The blush on your face only widened his smirk. He was right, how the hell could he have guessed by just touching them like that? He was making butterflies in your stomach, the first man to touch you was your executioner. “We need exact measurements, Shuji.” The doctor said and cleared his throat. Huffing, Hanma continued and his guess was correct. Hanma leans in and whispers in your ear. “He’s going to ask you some…intimate questions, better answer truthfully if you know what’s good for you.” That poison honied tone made your legs quiver.
Stepping back, Hanma leans against the wall across from you with a smirk on his face. It felt like you were a teenager with a parent at a clinic and the doctor asks the question. “Now then, let us continue. Please discard the rest of your clothing and take a seat on the exam table.” The doctors says, for a moment you felt your brain short-circuit and froze. He wanted you to do what? "M-my underwear too?" You stutter but Hanma was quick to click his tongue. Looking over at him, you noticed his expression was rather annoyed. Not wanting to test his patience, you begin to unclasp your bra and keep your eyes glued to the floor. The cool air made you shiver and of course, your nipples hardened - causing Hanma to hum and bite his lip. You were so exposed. Once you were completely nude and sat on the exam table, the doctor asks the following questions:
Does your family have a history of cancer or any other fatal diseases?
Do you exercise?
What is your diet like?
Do you smoke or drink?
Do you suffer from any back or joint pain?
Are you sexually active?
Have you ever been pregnant?
Have you ever had any sexually transmitted diseases?
Have you ever taken two or more partners at once?
Do you partake in oral sex?
He kind of threw all these questions at you all at once. You were struggling to keep up with everything and were turning red from the last questions. “Umm…no.” You say quietly and keep your eyes glued to the floor. Hanma’s face lit up a bit, this couldn’t possibly be true - you a virgin? All the women who have walked through these doors have been deflowered and some even pollinated before. “Ohh?” His coy tone made you squirm on the table. To have the chance at breaking in a virgin, he’s wanted to do this for years but all previous women had their cherries popped already. The doctor walks over with his stethoscope and places the cold medal on your chest to listen to your heartbeat - he was careful not to inappropriately touch your breasts. Of course your heart rate was abnormal. He then told you to sit up straight and placed the diaphragm on your back to listen to your lungs. “Deep breaths in and out please.” The way your chest would slowly rise and fall was making Hanma eager to get to the next part. The doctor continued his physical, he waved the ophthalmoscope over each eye and used the otoscope to check your ears. "All right, open your mouth." Following his instructions, you opened your mouth and he shoved a flat wooden stick down your throat. It made you gag almost instantly. "Hmm, we can work on your gag reflex." Gag reflex? Is this why he asked you if you partake in oral sex? They were planning on making you a prostitute?
He was carefully checking the surface of your skin for any flaws or abnormalities and then stepped away to take notes. Charting every detail about you and your body - they really graded women like they grade meat. "Now lay back and Shuji will finish the examination. Again, with my arm being broken, I wouldn't be able to complete it." The doctor says and smiles at you before taking a seat by the edge of the table. Before you knew it, Hanma was already next to you and he gently pushed you back. The doctor explained what he needed to do and what to feel for, they needed to give you a rather crude breast exam. The delight in Hanma's face had your legs trembling. "Arm over your head, dollface." He said in a low tone, you complied with the right arm first and he proceeded to slowly but firmly touch you. His cold hands made your breath hitch and the way your legs kept squirming - it made him smirk and keep eye contact with you. Starting from the center, he was making his way around and cleared you of any lumps. He could see the way your lips parted and could hear those shaky moans. Were you perhaps enjoying this? Now the left breast, same routine and he cleared you. The doctor took notes and told him to check your abdomen. Just when you thought he was done with the breast exam, next thing you know his fingers were rubbing your nipples. "Gotta check your sensitivity." He says and gives them a light pinch. The sweetest moan escaped your lips and oh he enjoyed it.
"You see… We do a very thorough assessment…" He said and kept rolling them between his fingers. The sick pleasure that was being injected into your veins had you biting your lip and refusing to give him more reasons to tease you. Try as you might, you were falling apart - failing to hold back your whimpers. "The higher quality you are, the more expensive you'll be." The glossy look in your eyes had his member twitching. Your blushing and innocent face stirred something in him, he wanted nothing more than to corrupt you. He's had a taste of some merchandise before, but they were just that - nothing more. They didn't captivate him, they flaunted their experience and skills in bed. It didn't make him come back for more but you… you got him all sorts of fucked up from the moment you walked through that door.
Hanma was just about to lean in to bite your chest until the doctor cleared his throat. "Like you said, Kisaki hates wasting time, please allow me to finish up the assessment and I'll-" His words were cut off by a loud moan. When the doctor peered over to see what was going on, he noticed that the reaper had a mouth full and was enjoying himself to the merchandise. The doctor sighs and begins to walk away before pausing at the doorway and looking back. “Try not to break her, Kisaki wants to make the money back as quickly as possible - the higher her grade, the more we can sell her for.” With that the doctor exited the room and left you at the hands of the reaper.
“Now then sweetheart… you can be honest with me.” He says playfully and nibbles on your skin - leaving pink marks behind. “You’ve had a cock between your legs before, yeah?” He coos in your ear and trails his hand south to your honey pot. Your hand was trying to hold on to something, anything, to suppress the lustful sensations. Refusing to answer his question, you bite your lip and screw your eyes shut. Bad idea, this only made Hanma want to break you even more. Without warning, he slapped your pussy and it made you quickly snap your legs closed, catching his hand in between. “Ohh… your thighs have quite the muscles.��️” He giggled like a mad man and tried prying them open with one hand but failed. “...please, don’t.” It’s the first time you’ve addressed him at all. Leaning in to gently glide his tongue on your bottom lip, he whispered - “Your body doesn’t belong to you anymore, dollface. Now be a good girl and open your legs for me.” His words were cold and yet they made you melt on the spot. Who could resist those beautiful golden eyes, and those black and gold strands of hair? There was something stirring up inside of you, something dark.
With your legs quivering, you slowly spread your legs open for him. “Good girl…” Lithe fingers slid down to your core and he just about moaned when he felt your slick. Whimpering, you barely manage to speak as his finger prods your entrance. “S-stop, please! I’ve never done this before!” Hanma couldn’t help but mock you and shove his finger inside you without warning, making you squeal and grip his bicep. The sensation was so foreign you didn’t know what to do. Just one finger and she’s practically crying? He thinks to himself and slowly explores your cavern. “You really are a virgin, huh?” He whispers into your lips and forces you into a kiss. Panting and moaning, you returned his kiss - it felt like you were in a daze. He was poisoning you and you were giving into him, might as well enjoy it before you get thrown to sharks.
Wrapping your arms around his neck, you tried your hardest to at least make this as pleasurable as possible - for both of you. Caught off guard by the return of affection, he grinned and slid another digit inside your warmth. He could feel your walls clamping down on and pulsing at his sudden actions. Moaning into his kisses, you felt the way his long fingers stretched you out and your hips slightly grind into them. The sinful motions only continued as his thumb traced circles on your bundle of nerves. “...ngh…ah-it feels…” You say and try to adjust to the sensation of something being inside you. “This is nothing compared to what’s next, dollface.” Hanma chuckled and quickened his pace. Your sweet voice had him high in the clouds, so inexperienced and so sweet, he needed to sink into you. To feel your warmth, your tight walls and your release.
"Fuck…you're so wet, practically dripping - tell me pretty girl, have you ever touched yourself?" He asks and nuzzles his face into your neck. "You've never played with this pretty pussy before? Hmm?" For a moment, you thought his voice alone was going to send you into overdrive. Shaking your head no, you confess that you've never been touched before. Poor thing, you've never experienced a hand, a finger, a tongue or a cock between your legs. The reaper couldn't have that now could he? Without warning he stopped and stood up straight, gazing down at you with his amber eyes. The way he towered over you, you thought he got turned off by your confession but it did quite the opposite. You set him on fire.
He walked away and you closed your eyes thinking he was done with you. That is until you felt him on the other edge of the examination table, he gripped your ankles and yanked you closer to the edge of the table. Your surprised squeak made him smile. He removed his glasses and tossed them aside. The sound of his zipper made your heart skip a beat. Was he going to pop your cherry? The heavy contact from his length hitting your core made you flinch. “I want you to see the moment I deflower you…now sit up.” Hanma demanded, those gold irises reflected nothing but malice and desire. Looking down, you see how flushed his tip was, it was oozing precum and you swore you were going to die if he put it in you. “W-will it fit?” You ask innocently. For a moment the world stopped, Hanma felt infatuated with your innocence and couldn’t bear the thought of another man taking your first time. “I’ll make it fit, sweetheart.” He replies sweetly and rubs his tip against your clit as he unbuttons his shirt. His warmth and the slick was making your head fuzzy - you knew this was wrong but you wanted it.
Sitting up, you wrap your arms loosely around his neck and brace yourself. Looking up at him, Hanma noticed the tears that lined your eyes, you were worried and scared. Such a sweet expression. “I said I want you to see it…look down (Y/N).” Oh he said your name and a chill ran down your spine. Following his orders, you look down and see his cock throbbing, it makes your mouth salivate - this was really happening. Hanma reeled his hips back and lined himself up with your slit. His breath hitched when his tip prodded your entrance, your breath caught in your throat as you felt a burning stretch - you were too tight. Tears began to stream down your face as you watched him peirce you. He only had the tip in and you were already crying. “Ngh…it’s too big…it hurts.” You whimper and pant as his cock bullies its way inside you. Your words fell on deaf ears, Hanma was too busy drinking in your expression of distress and looking at how his length slowly disappeared inside you. “Keep watching, dollface. You’ll see how I make it fit.” He says and continues forcing his way in. He noticed how your legs trembled and how your tears streamed down your face. For you not to fight back…you might be able to take more of the things he wants to do to you.
As much as it burned, you couldn’t help but feel arousal in seeing how his fat cock split you open. You were becoming a lewd mess. This man, the devil’s incarnate, had you losing more than your innocence, he was making you lose your sanity. Could you ever look at yourself the same ever again? When he managed to bottom out, you felt a throbbing sensation inside you - you thought you were going to pass out. Hanma was panting and snickering like a mad man at how fucking good you felt. “See baby? I told you I’d fit.” He coos and presses his forehead against yours. Looking up at him, you see how the look in his eyes softened just a bit, could this be a sign of kindness?
When your walls finally settled on his shape, Hanma slowly reeled his hips back and leaned back ever so slightly to take in the view. To his delight, there were light traces of blood on his shaft - you were a virgin and an obedient one at that. Doe eyes, pouty lips, flushed cheeks, all features that made him want to ruin you until you can no longer function without him. Grabbing you by the back of your neck with one hand and gipping your hip with the other, he pulled you in close and seared you with his gaze. Your eyes reflected nothing but obedience and reverence. He loved it. God or the Devil put you on his path for a reason, that reason was for him to get a taste of heaven - knowing that he will never actually get there after he departs this world, it was a rather kind gesture from the gods. When he thrusted into you, he felt your walls spasm around his length. Your core was pulling him in and refusing to let go of his cock, he struggled to pull away - he didn’t want to leave your warmth even for a second.
Your soft moans had him in a daze and he kept his slow pace. The pain was beginning to subsite and pleasure started to creep up on you. With how close he was, your clit was getting some friction and you wanted more of this foreign sensation. “Sh-Shuji…I want more.” You whimper and pout at him. Saying his name like that, oh you have no idea what you just did to him. Crashing his lips into you, he devoured you and picked up his pace. Hanma couldn’t care less about your now ruined state - all he wanted was to fill you up and make you cry around his cock. Everything was getting hazy, you felt as if your body was going numb with each thrust of his hips. The air was being snatched from your lungs when he kept hitting that golden spot inside you that you didn’t even know existed. For it being your first time, you were taking him so well he thought that you were made for him.
Leaning back on your elbows, you took in the view before you - when you should have felt fear and disgust, you felt bliss. Your mind was muddled in sin and you couldn’t help it, something about him just made you trust him and give in to him. His husky moans and breaths kept you in the clouds. He could have killed you on the spot and you would have died happy. Why on earth do you feel this happy when your life is over after this? Sensing your conflict, Hanma presses your legs further back, making his tip kiss your cervix with each thrust. “Ahn…I feel something coming, I-” Your moan cuts your sentence short. Your purity was being tainted and he was the cause of it all.
Hanma was rather kind for breaking you in, had it been left to a client - they would have scarred you in a way where you would never feel pleasure again. “Get used to this position, sweetheart. You’ll be on your back to make back the money that is owed.” He pants between words and digs his fingernails into your plush thighs. Even though his words were cruel, you didn’t care at all - you were glad it was him. Maybe a little too glad as the soft smile on your lips and glossy look in your eyes sent him into overdrive. He expected you to cry at any moment or freeze in fear but you looked divine and accepted your fate without question. Perhaps he was fucking you stupid but loved the look on your face. It was now etched in his mind.
“Shit…I’m close, gonna fill you up pretty girl.” He pants and places both hands on your hips to steady himself. Sitting up, wrapping your arms around his neck, you pulled him in - resting your chin on his shoulder. Those siren-like moans were now in his ear and he couldn’t help but feel a shiver run down his spine. Your cries of his name and god’s name kept echoing in his ear along with incoherent babbles that sounded like you were going to come undone at any second. Your thighs were beginning to shake and you bit down on his collarbone, making him wince and pound into you harder. The moment you felt your first orgasm, your body trembled and your release was pure bliss. You didn’t think it was possible to feel this good for your first time, especially after it being taken by the reaper himself. Feeling your cunt clench around him and feeling your juices drip down his thighs, Hanma reached his high and spilled his seed deep in your womb. It wouldn’t stop, he kept feeling his cum splurt inside you and he wanted to just keep you filled up until your belly was swollen.
Both of you stayed still, panting and trying to regain some sort of consciousness, the afterglow was too good. “...Shuji.” You whisper and his ears perk up at the sound of your voice. “Hmm?” He hums in response and rests his forehead on your shoulder. “Will you still visit me when I’m taken away?” You ask him innocently and pray that he says yes. I know they say that you will never forget your first time but this was on a whole other level. It felt like you fell for him, even though you knew this would probably be a one time thing, perhaps even the last time you’d ever see him again. He fucked up your mental state, you got a taste of ecstacy and now you wanted to keep staying high in clouds and dancing with the devil. The low chuckle made your chest ache, he didn’t answer your question and told you to clean yourself up, he only wanted to pop your cherry - nothing more and nothing less.
He left the room after cleaning himself up, not even looking back at you - he didn’t even give you the chance to savor his handsome face before he left. The soreness between your legs was beginning to creep up on you. After cleaning yourself up, the doctor walked back in and gave you a pill to swallow, of course - Hanma fucked you raw and you didn’t even think about the consequences that would bring. “If your period is late, please let us know immediately.” The doctor says and tells you to follow him. Slowly walking, you felt Hanma’s seed drip little by little, he really did fill you up.
The doctor informed you of the rest of the procedure and how you will be staying at a…well for lack of a better word, whore house for now on but you were not to render services until the assessment was completed. When that is done, they will be changing your name and you will be given a complete breakdown of all the pricing that will be placed on your body. It kind of was a blur to you.
After they dropped you off at your new home, you were welcomed by the staff and not so welcomed by the other women there. They were not happy about competing with another pretty face. Especially when they overheard that Hanma Shuji took a liking to you and popped your cherry. It meant that you were going to be worth more than they are and your ‘workspace’ would be much nicer than theirs.
The first few days were hard. The days were short but the nights were long, you could hear the women servicing other men and it only made you nervous. Yet there was warmth that built up inside your chest just thinking about the reaper. Remaining in that room at night didn’t make it any better. Anyone could have walked through that door and you would have no choice but to surrender yourself to them. You were stuck doing laundry and cleanup duty for other rooms, you needed to be useful for something after all. To be fair, you preferred this but it wasn’t going to pay off the debit any sooner.
Finally after a month, the house mother walked in and threw you some lingerie to wear, “Your services are needed at 22:00, get cleaned up and get ready, babydoll.” She said and reminded you to put on a performance for your guest in order to get extra tips. She also gave you a warning, if the client left unsatisfied - you’d be doing some ‘unsavory’ services in the feature. You knew she didn’t mean clean up duty.
Feeling anxious, you quickly did as you were told - cleaning up the room, cleansing yourself and getting ready. The whole time you felt like you were going to pass out. You could feel your teeth chatter when everything was done and you looked at the clock, it was almost time…it read 21:57. The sound of the doorknob turning made your heart almost jump out of your chest. Your eyes darted to the figure at the door and it was your house mother. Oh thank goodness, you were praying that she’d tell you that they canceled. “Babydoll, your guest is downstairs - they have a rather peculiar request. Here…” She says and tosses you a blindfold. Oh no, was the person some kind of old pervert? Or perhaps some guy with a fetish? Maybe this was for the best - you didn’t want to see his face, it would most likely haunt you.
A knock on the door made your squeak and the house mother quickly fixed you up while telling the guest to come in. “I hope she is to your liking, enjoy.” She says coyly and you could her walk away, followed by the sound of the door closing. The room remained silent and you sat there with your heart in your throat. It was too quiet so you decided to break the ice, “W-welcome, I will be taking care of you tonight, sir.” Your voice is soft and has a tinge of skittishness to it. The man said nothing. The room still remained quiet and you felt as if you were going to vomit. Standing there in silence while unable to see what’s in front of you was overwhelming. A few more seconds of silence and finally you hear him move. His footsteps came closer, you could feel his presence - he was right in front of you.
The sudden hard slap to your face made you yelp and he threw you off balance, making you stumble back onto the bed. You froze in place, what the hell was this? He started to pant. The stinging sensation on your cheek intensified when another harsh slap landed on your face. However, you couldn’t retaliate - for your sake, there was no way. You were warned about this. As long as he doesn’t punch you or cause your skin to break, you were to take it. Many of the girls shared stories with you about how sometimes they would get terrifying men and would often have to take a beating from them. They were all done within the limits of the rules - even though the women protested, nothing was ever done as they were high paying clients. If the money rolled in, they had to pretty much roll with the punches. Tears were beginning to soak through the blindfold, it hurt so much.
You could hear the sound of his belt buckle and zipper, was he going to fuck you now? But your ears picked up on the slight skin slapping sounds, he was getting off to his abuse. A third slap in the same spot made you scream in pain, the taste of blood was now in your mouth. He busted your lip. When you heard a whipping sound, you instinctively scream again in fear of your life - this was going beyond the service of a prostitute. A loud crash and the sound of charging footsteps could be heard, followed by a heavy thud. Freezing in place, you dared not to move, you could have gotten in trouble by not being cooperative with your guest. You felt the bed dip as if someone was kneeling on it and climbing over you. Every fiber in you was screaming for you to run or fight back.
When the person lifted your blindfold, your vision was blurry and trying to adjust to the light. A maniacal chuckle echoes in your ears. “Rough first day, sweetheart?” That voice… You wipe your eyes and your vision focuses on him. Golden eyes, black and gold tresses with round specs, it was him. “Shuji?” The soft tone in your voice made a shiver run down his spine, you still sounded innocent. Looking down you see the asshole who slapped you was face down on the ground with his pants around his ankles. Apparently, Hanma walked in unannounced and was going to request your services. However, when the house mother said you just started servicing your first client, he pretty much didn’t give a flying fuck and made a beeline to your room and kicked the door open at the exact moment he heard your scream.
The house mother gasped when she saw the client on the floor. “What the hell happened?” She questioned the reaper and glared at him. It wasn’t like Hanma to interrupt the girls during service. “Nothing, he broke the rules so I broke his nose.” He retorts. “By the way, she is no longer of service to this house.” Wait, what? “Oh dear…we had a queue lined up for her.” The house mother sighs and doesn’t question her boss any further.
Wiping the blood off your lip, Hanma explains to you that your debt has been paid by an anonymous donor. You were set free from this shitty life. The sound of another man’s voice by the doorway made you both turn around. “So…this is the little bird you’ve been surly about?” A man with blond, neat cut hair says while examining you. You recognized him as Toman’s top brass, Kisaki Tetta. The girls would talk about him, he would rarely come by but only for VIP clients - he’d never indulge in the land of milk and honey. Kisaki was personally here to see who caught the eye of the reaper. You immediately stood up and bowed. “Thank you sir.” You say not wanting to seem rude. “Thank Hanma…he’s the one who paid your debt.” He scoffed and began to walk away with a smirk on his face. There was a tinge of regret of letting Hanma release you from your debt, you would have pulled in quite a lot of money. The plan is always to give the girls a list of fees different from their actual market pricing. That way Toman keeps them around a little longer while profiting off their suffering.
“Oi, asshole! You weren’t supposed to tell her!” Hanma laughed and pulled you in from your waist. The reaper couldn’t get you out of his head, the moment he felt the afterglow - he had to backaway, there was something there and refused to accept it. It made sense as to why he refused to look at you one last time before he left that day. Even while working and blooding up faces, stacking bodies and sleeping with other women - he couldn’t get your innocent face out of his head. It was maddening. When he realized that you etched yourself into his mind - he cut a deal with Kisaki. You were going to be Hanma’s…personal assistant. He was refusing to let you go again and refused to have another man touch you. Hence the delay in your services at the whore house.
In tears you thanked him, for once in his life he felt like he did something good - something that wasn’t for benefit. Right? Actually no, scratch that, it was all for his benefit. That night he took you home and made you cry more tears, only they were of pleasure and bliss. You were his and only his.
END
tags: @anxious-chick
#tokyorevengers#tokyo revengers#tr fanfic#tr fanfiction#tr smut#tokyo revengers smut#hanma#hanma shuji#toman hanma#first timeline hanma#smut#slight an#slight fluff#oneshot#mini fic#hanma smut#hanma shuji smut#this was a little sweet at the end
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00. prologue
༊*·˚ ALWAYS HAVE, ALWAYS WILL — task force 141 x reader
featuring. simon 'ghost' riley + johnny 'soap' mactavish + kyle 'gaz' garrick + john 'bravo six' price
warnings. nsfw, fem!reader, slow burn, friends to lovers, drama, action, hurt/comfort, mystery, polyamory, angst, mental health issues, minor character death, angst w a happy ending
series masterlist. read on ao3. fanfic playlist.
You’ve been to more funerals than you can count on your blood-stained hands.
Family, friends, teammates, superiors – at the end of the day, you’ve always found yourself staring at a casket being lowered into the earth. Or an urn.
Sometimes, there’s not enough of the body to bury, or burn. Just an arm, a jawbone, a blood splatter with a trace of ripped hair. Even then, the ceremonies are similar – morose and stagnant with the tension that only comes with grieving humans, merely waiting for the moment that their hourglass will fully tip. For when, they too, will be grieved. Lowered into the ground. Cremated.
If there is such a thing as an afterlife, you’re not too sure that you’ll want to endure more living, when the end goal is such a cruel one.
To love, to cherish, and then to wither away into nothing.
A fucked up joke.
The muddy ground squelches as you take a step back, hands tightly clasped together in front of your chest. Not a prayer, but a gesture similar enough to the patrons around you that you won’t be given a second glance.
Rain falls in thick sheets, but there’s no wind, and most of the people around you are underneath the dark grey marquee set up in front of the ceremony.
You aren’t. There’s something familiar about the clothes soaking your body, your body trembling just slightly from the chill, the dampness. A small punishment for your actions, small enough to not be noticed, but enough to repent just a thousandth of what you owe.
The Funeral Director gives his speech. Some religious nonsense, you’re sure, and the words wash over you like the torrents of rain.
You almost wish they could wash the guilt off of your mind, wash the blood that still feels sticky in your hands.
When you look down, they're pure and clean.
There’s crying. You’re not sure who from, how many, where. All that you register is the sound of gut wrenching heartbreak in the most raw, most physical of forms.
You swallow, once, your throat dry and tongue sticking to the roof of your mouth.
Needles, drugs, passing out, cells, torture –
“Sergeant.”
Even years of military training doesn’t keep you from flinching at the title. Turning your head, you’re greeted by a man that’s never failed to make your blood run cold.
His grey hair sticks to his forehead, his wrinkles highlighted by the dreary, bleak sky.
“General,” you incline your head respectfully. He stands to your right, arms folded behind his back. He’s suited in full black, and your stomach roils at the idea of this man grieving.
“You have been assigned a new unit,” he states, as one would discuss last night’s game over morning tea. “You’re set to leave at eighteen-hundred.”
You nod.
What else is there to do? Get down to your knees and beg for some time off, when you know that’ll leave you rotting in your bed for two weeks? Ask for him to be kind in his placement, because you’re not sure you can handle more of the emotional torment you’ve dealt with over the past three years?
Instead, no words fall from your cold-bitten lips, and your legs don’t buckle.
General Shepherd walks away without a simple ‘I’m sorry for your loss’. You’re sure that even if he had said as such, the words would’ve held no earnesty, no warmth.
It’s perhaps better this way.
So, you stand, and the rain hits your body in a relentless rhythm. So different to the torture of waterboarding, the cruelty of drowning.
Although, you can’t say that the mental whirlwind you’re stuck in the eye of is any less impactful. If you open your mouth, you’re sure that water will flood every crevice, leaving you to scream soundlessly for eternity, death sweeping you in with the turn of the waves.
You wonder, for a single moment, how many grievers would attend your ceremony.
By the time the rain stops, if only for a short period, everyone has left. The marquee’s been taken down, and there’s only you and your guilt left behind to stare at the stone. It takes everything in you to walk to it, your legs almost as weak as your will.
The headstone and rectangle of dirt dedicated to the fallen are both covered in flowers.
Bending down to your knees, you softly place a single blue hyacinth at the base. You allow yourself just a moment to close your eyes, deeply exhale, and revel in your guilt.
When you stand once more, it’s with a renewed strength.
Your Captain would have been proud.
The other seven fallen men – the ones that were under your care to heal – would’ve laughed in your face. You would’ve let them.
Now, you can only hope that their bodies will be found soon, so that they too, can be put to rest beside your Captain.
a/n. jus a VERY short prologue/teaser. this is by far my fav piece i've been writing yet. each chapter will be about 7-9k words long, so it'll take much longer to update, but i'm SO excited for it!! i hope u all will enjoy this journey as much as me :)
#love : series#call of duty#cod mw2#ghost cod#cod x reader#ghost mw2#john soap mactavish#mw2#simon ghost riley#soap cod#tf141#tf141 x reader#john price#kyle gaz garrick#captain price#price x reader#gaz x reader#soap x reader#ghost x reader#gaz garrick#cod#kyle garrick#gaz mw2#gaz cod#soap x ghost#soapghost#call of duty x reader#task force 141#task force 141 x reader#cod smut
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PLEASE I’M BEGGING YOU MORE OF SAMMY HUHU
A/N: no this totally didn’t take me forever to respond to the ask….this was originally going to be Sam being a lot darker but I decided to give y’all something cute to munch on. Yandere sam being a sweetie pie for ONCE…. Thank you for requesting bb💓🥰
Warnings: FLUFFFFF UR SAFEEEE
Asks: open 24/7
Masterlist
Sam’s lower body pressed up against your back and he watched you intently through the vanity you were seated at.
You hadn’t even noticed that he’d come home and walked into your room until you had felt his body against yours.
His cold fingers slowly traced up along your exposed arm and around your neck, sending a sharp chill down your spine.
Many worries ran through your poor little head…You never truly know what version of Sam is going to walk through that door and greet you.
By this point you were far too frightened to make any sudden moves, or to speak, you waited until he broke the silence.
“Sorry doll, I kept you waiting longer than usual…”
Was he going to be sweet and charming or an erratic son of a bitch today?
He took a second to pinch the bridge of his nose and let out an exhaustive sigh,
“…Paulie got shitfaced again and I promised Tom that this time I’d get him home and-“
Taking another frustration break he ran his fingers through his thick black, greasy hair before speaking one more…
“-you know what it’s all bullshit. I don’t want to think too much about it. I just really missed you today.”
Still being cautious about your actions , you mustered up a smile and shot it up at him through the vanity mirror.
“I-I’m happy to hear that Sammy. I missed you too, of course.”
A soft hum of approval escaped his mouth as he soaked in your loving words. You could feel both the tension in the air and in his body relax. As much as he would never admit out loud, Sam was just about always desperate for your admiration…nothing in this world could affect him like your love does. Even if it wasn’t real from your end…
“Are you getting ready for bed, y/n?”
He motioned down towards the hairbrush that you were using just moments before he interrupted your nighttime routine.
“Mhmm… I was thinking about just braiding my hair tonight instead of putting it into rollers like I usually do. I have a lot of hair.” You let out a halfhearted laugh
He nodded
You felt the pressure from your back lift as he walked away from you and headed towards the closet.
Curious as to what he was up to, you turned in your seat to face him.
Sam proceeded to take off and hang up his jacket, roll up his dress shirt sleeves, and light a cigarette he had stored in the back of his pocket.
“Sam?”
Winking, he made his way back over to you, and pressed his body up against yours once more.
He took one hand and ruffled your hair a bit, inspecting it in his own strange way. The other removed the cigarette from his mouth and blew the smoke into the air.
“You sure do have a lot of hair sweetheart.”
“Y-yeah I know…I’ll be done with it in a few minutes. I promise I won’t take long before coming to bed.” You looked up at him with a worried expression.
Shaking his head and grabbing the brush out of your hand, he spoke.
“I’m afraid I cannot let you do this by yourself. I kept you waiting all night to go help a friend, I think I owe you something in return.”
In disbelief you let out a chuckle, there’s no way Sam Trapani knew how to do your hair. He nearly dies trying to get his own hair to sit right in the morning.
“Umm respectfully, I think this is out of your skill level. I don’t want a bird’s nest tomorrow.”
Not immediately responding, Sam took a deep puff of his cigarette before leaning down into your ear.
“Why can’t you just shut the fuck up and let me do something nice for ya?”
Still being amused by this, you let out a giggle
“Okay Sammy. I’ll trust you…”
Sam blew the smoke that was trapped into his lungs into your face before giving you a soft peck on the cheek.
“That’s my good girl.”
He began playing with your locks, trying to part it but only tangling it, then using the brush to try to fix it but only making it worse. Definitely turns you away from the mirror so you can’t see what he’s doing once he realizes he’s fucked up.
“How’s it going darling?”
“Your hair has never been so soft and silky, y/n. You’re going to love your new hair when you’re done.”
“Ahh so you don’t mind if I stop by your lunch break with this hair?”
“…”
“….I’ll leave you money on the table tomorrow so you can go to the salon.”
#headcanon#yandere imagines#yandere headcanons#mafia definitive edition#mafia trilogy#yandere sam trapani#sam trapani fanart#sam trapani x reader#sam trapani#fluff#oneshot#tommy angelo x reader#paulie lombardo x reader#yandere mafia#mafia imagines#mafia iii#mafia ii#mafia game
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