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erodasfishtacos · 6 months ago

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Give You Some Sugar

prompt: when yn meets h at a club and quite a few unexpected things happen in a short amount of time

word count: 9k

author’s note: hiiii. there are currently six more parts of this available on my patreon 😗

you can subscribe for $3 USD a month 💓

Y/N finally had the night off.

No charity events, dreadful business dinners, or exclusive invite-only clubs where she had to pretend to be something she wasn’t.

The smile on her face forced enough that her jaw and cheeks ached by the end of the night by how much of a farce she’s putting on.

A twinkling giggle accompanies every stupid joke that is told.

It’s mind-numbing to pretend that she is an airhead who doesn’t understand any aspect of what these businessmen discuss during their dinner.

Though she does, she wasn’t stupid and she knew that the offshore accounts to funnel tax money and avoid payouts were illegals - especially considering the fact that they were not talking about chump change but millions and sometimes billions of dollars.

As they spoke of this right in front of her, in an exclusive back room of a five-star restaurant most of the time without a care because they thought that she just simply could not understand their discussions.

YN had to drop out during her last year of college.

Her financial aide ran short and she didn’t have anything in her bank account to cover the difference.

It’s mostly why she’s in the work she does now, trying to save up to get back in to finish her last year but it’s been pushed off for a few years now.

She thought that she would immediately get out of this line of work the second she got that number she needed in her bank account, it did not work out that way.

No job she could get right now would pay even comparably to what she gets now for simple dinners and events with rich men.

Quitting this job would send her right back into struggling to pay rent or her car note, she grew up living that way.

She didn’t want that for herself ever again which is why she has been saving nearly every penny that comes her way to get a hefty enough savings that she won’t have to worry - at least for a while.

She could do with a pair of strong, smooth hands around her waist - guiding her hips into deep and playful grinds as music pounds much too loudly around them, only lost in each other.

Not the swollen, wrinkly ones that she had to lightly hold like she was enjoying them or the too tight grip on her hips when they had to slow-dance at galas with classical music coming from a live orchestra.

She hasn’t had any type of dating life since all this had started.

Not so surprisingly, most men didn’t enjoy sharing their girlfriends nearly every night.

And the term sugar baby scared every potential suitor away which had in all honesty made YN give up very soon after - realizing no matter what year it is, there’s definitely a stigma around what she does.

Y/N needed to feel young again.

Hell - she was twenty-five but the crowd she was around most of the time was sixty-five and above.

She had nothing in common with these men that she spent her time with, very rarely did they have any similar interests or something that they could talk about for more than a few minutes without the conversation withering.

For the most part - she enjoyed being a sugar baby.

It was a lot of cash upfront or in her banking app, gifts, free dinners, and all-expenses paid vacations.

She charged men for her time and appearance.

Laid out flat to them during their initial meeting - she would not have sex with them.

It was non-negotiable, no matter how much money they offered her, she would turn it down and remind them that if they tried it again, she had no problem terminating their contractual agreement that they’re currently not following.

There was no judgment for anyone who did sleep with their clients.

YN found that she made more than enough without that aspect that it wasn’t necessary and it just wasn’t for her, she couldn’t bring herself to do it for any amount of money.

YN finally had a night off where she could go to the club without any obligations, just with her friends.

No man to hang onto, to follow around like a puppy, or to always have a fresh drink in hand for them.

Sophie was behind her, one hand on her waist and a drink in her other as they swayed together - always scoping out the people around them and having enough fun with each other to let the night fly by.

Until was a beefy, meathead starts checking Sophie out from a barstool.

His eyes were watching her friend with a focused smirk on the corner of his lips, and his foot was tapping against the floor in rhythm to the music that was pumping through the club.

“You have a suitor!” YN shouts over the music, subtly nodding toward the man who her friend hadn’t noticed yet.

He was Sophie’s type to the tee with a flannel button-up, some type of cowboy boot, and beard.

Her friend makes eye contact with the man finally, after he’d been waiting for her to finally notice and now he takes it as permission to get up from the bar stool to stride over to her and ask her for a dance.

YN leaves them to it, not wanting to block a chance of Sophie having some luck finding someone to go home with tonight after she’d been complaining about a dry spell.

Not wanting to lose sight of her, YN goes back to the bar and slips into the seat that was just occupied by the man who was currently pulling her friend into his chest to dance.

When asked, she ordered a jack and coke, she wasn’t much of a drinker which meant that she’d most likely sip on that for the rest of the time that she was here, and she could make sure Sophie was safe which would be hard to do if she was drunk.

Someone slides up next to her, bumping her shoulder harshly enough that it makes her gasp, and the man doesn’t even apologize before he’s grabbing the bartender’s attention with an obnoxious, rude snap of his fingers, “Make that two.”

He didn’t sound drunk or belligerent, that just made it even more odd that he didn’t apologize for bumping into her but maybe he just assumed that it’s normal for that to happen at such a tightly cramped bar.

After a moment, she finally looks out of the corner of her eye.

However, it’s not enough because she's surprised by what she sees and she turns her head to get a full view of what was standing right beside her.

He was broad, that was the first thing that she noticed, was how wide his shoulders were as he squeezed between YN and the patron on the other side of him.

The broadness tapered off into narrow hips and lean thighs but his body was athletic, strong, lithe, and everything that YN had been dreaming of when she’s holding hands with men who were the opposite of what she was looking at right now.

He had stunning, cropped brown curls, a bit of scruff on his face like he hasn’t shaven in a few days, and golden skin from being in the sun - not a tan he could have acquired in London, that’s for sure.

The man was dressed in black silky button-up that was open enough to display the definition of his chest, a gold cross hanging between his pecs.

The shirt what sheer enough that his abdominal muscles were being shown-off until the band of his black trousers covered them right above his belly button but enough to see that trail of sparse hair leading to it.

Her chest tighten when he turns his head to meet her staring gaze, he’s caught her checking him out, and she knows based on the way his lips turn up, and deep dimples indent his cheeks.

“Mind a drink on me, darling?” He tilts his head and smiles wolfishly, purposefully flashing a black Amex between two fingers before tossing it carelessly the shiny oak bar like it was worthless.

Show off.

It didn’t do much to impress her, not when she was constantly surrounded by some of the wealthiest men in the world, a single credit card wasn’t something to have her drooling over him.

“Knock yourself out,” She shrugs with a raised eyebrow and a somewhat bored tone, letting him know through her facial expressions that she wasn’t nearly as impressed as he would like her to be, as most girls probably are.

“I’m Harry,” he puts out his hand, rings twinkling in the dim light and a cross inked on the crook of his hand.

It was the type of hand that she’d been fantasizing about on her body when she dances with her clients.

They were big, strong, and had veins protruding against the smooth skin that for some reason made her start to feel hot because she wanted those hands on her right now.

“YN,” She replies, trying to keep herself in check.

The firmness of his grip sends a tingle down her spine, his long fingers wrapping around hers, squeezing firmly enough to prove a point, and she tugs back her hand when she realizes she has been holding his hand for a tad too long.

She has been on too many dates in the last three months to count but hasn’t gotten laid in a year, if not longer.

And until now, she hadn’t felt that desperate to change that, and didn't bitch about dry spells like Sophie did.

When Harry laughs at her for holding his hand for too long, she’s a fucking goner, and she doesn’t know what’s making him feel so magnetic.

Her body realized it as she watched his hand grip the glass, suck a thumb into his mouth when a splash of liquor spills over - pink tongue peeking out of his puffy, pink lips.

Their conversation goes smoothly and he definitely wins points with YN when he looks out for Sophie when she trots over to the bar to tell her that she’s going to leave with that lumberjack-looking fellow named Josh.

Harry had judgmentally looked Josh up and down with an unimpressed but indifferent expression before saying, “Send a picture of your driver’s license to YN before you leave so she knows exactly who you are and where you live if there’s an issue.”

Josh doesn’t seem bothered, actually digs his driver’s license out of his wallet, and hands it over to YN, who does snap a picture of it - surprised she had never thought of doing that before now but would definitely from here on out.

Sophie is a bit confused, clearly wondering if YN and Harry knew each other based on just how assertive he was being, acting like he had any right to make demands of a man of a girl he didn’t know.

“You good?” Sophie whispers in her each as she hugs her before leaving.

“A hundred percent. I’ll text you later. You do the same?” YN murmurs back as she squeezes her friend tight - hoping Josh works out for her tonight but he seemed like an alright dude.

They part after that, Sophie taking Josh’s hand and nearly dragging him towards the door with eagerness - YN watches until they’re out of sight and turns back to the man next to her.

“What do you do for work?” Harry asks after the final sip of his mixed drink.

It was just the way that he was looking at her, with such intensity and interest, it made her feel like there was a hot spotlight right on her in front of a crowd, and she wanted to look away but she couldn’t break their eye contact.

“Customer service for an office supply chain, you?” YN lies smoothly, she’s said it enough times that there’s not a hint of uncertainty to give her away.

It was her go to job - she wasn’t going to tell a random person she was a sugar baby and the job description she gave is boring enough for them not to ask questions or really care to know more.

“Just a boring job in IT,” Harry shrugs, not divulging more information than that as he once again, rudely snaps his fingers at the bartender for another round before starting to ask, “What do you-“

“Are you going to take me home or no?” YN interrupts bluntly, she was never typically this forward - really she’s never been this upfront before.

However, the back and forth of meaningless conversation was driving her to the point of insanity because all she wanted right now was his hands on her and she doesn’t know if she’d ever been as aroused as this from just small talk.

No, with certainty she’d never felt this much sexual attraction to someone else in her life.

Harry’s eyes narrow at her like a predator locked on prey.

The smile that had almost been permanently etched on his lips for the last hour was gone and his jaw was flexing under the thin skin there that she wanted to sink her teeth into.

As soon as the new glass of jack and coke was in front of him, he picks it up, and takes two long gulps before the cup is empty and he’s bringing it back down against the bar.

YN can’t help it when she leans forward to brush a droplet from the corner of his mouth.

Her heart is absolutely pounding when his hand comes up to capture her wrist, eyes intent of her face as he moves her hand until her thumb with the alcohol on it brushes against his lips.

He brings it into his mouth, to suck the liquid off of the digit before nipping it, pulling it back out to rub against his bottom lip for a minute.

YN knew her lips were parted in surprise, arousal, and disbelief at how utterly attractive the man in front of her was with such a simple but filthy move - she craved more of it.

“Do you want me to take you home, pup?” Harry asks with that same head tilt from early, like he doesn’t know the answer, and he brushes his nose against the inside of her wrist.

“I don’t think I was unclear. Don’t make me repeat myself,” YN’s voice is tight and thick but she isn’t going to give him control from the start - already knowing Harry will be up for a challenge by the way he holds himself - cock sure.

That has him letting out a low, dangerous chuckle that almost sounds like a growl at the taunts, “Oh, that’s how you want it, sweetheart?”

YN was feeling brave and nearly insane with a warm arousal in her stomach.

She reaches out and runs a purposeful hand across his lap.

A confident smile gracing her face when she palms at him, his cock twitching and plumping up embarrassingly easy for her which makes her let out her own mean chuckle at what he can’t hide or control of his body.

His strong, massive hand is coming to stop her.

Her hand twinges in light pain at his rings digging into her skin as he wraps his fingers around her wrist again, this time pulling until she’s nearly stumbling off her stool but able to right herself at the last moment.

She goes forward, a bit clumsily and meets his hard chest, looking up at him. “I don’t think you know what you’re asking for,” He warns, bringing her wrist back up to kiss at where his rings left light indents.

“Are you all talk? Or are you going to -“ Because she can’t help herself, she wants to get him as riled up as possible so that he’ll give her all he’s got because she hasn't had excitement like this in well - ever.

YN’s cut with a rough pinch to her thigh and his mouth at her ear, low and firm, “Get your shit and let’s go, now.”

She moves to put on her jacket, Harry apparently finding that she isn’t doing it quickly enough because he knocks her hands away and puts it on her himself before being led out of the club without a second glance back.

As soon as they’re in the taxi, YN is so hazy with want that she doesn’t think twice before straddling his lap and grinding down.

He’s firm, warm, and smells like he just walked out of a cologne advert for Tom Ford.

Her lips finally make it to where they’ve wanted to be all night, pressing wet kisses along his jawline, and huffing in frustration when his hands grip her hips, stilling her movements and ending any friction that she was getting.

“You need to be a good girl and wait. I’m not fucking you in the back of a cab,” Harry hisses, grips her jaw like he can do whatever he wants to her because he can right now, pulling her back with a stern look.

“Don’t need to fuck in here, I just want-“ YN begins, trying not to flush at how needy she sounds and how much her demeanor has changed from sitting at the bar a few minutes ago.

He literally had her in the palm of his hand and he fucking knew it.

“I’m going to stop you there, pup,” Harry cuts her off, still holding her chin, and his eyes are twinkling with something playful but serious, “It’s not about what you want, is it? Are you a selfish thing, hm?”

“No,” YN gasps when he brings his hand down, finding her bud over the thin material of her underwear but under her skirt, just tapping at it with no real pressure, “I’m not, I swear. I just want to-“

A sharp pinch replaces the intermittent taps, her legs twitching as an even mixture of pain and pleasure shoot up her spine, “You’re not a very good listener either, are you?”

Fucking hell.

YN can now say without a shadow of a doubt that she’s never been more turned on than this in her life.

The submission that was melting through her body was new to her.

She’d never whined, pleaded, used such a voice before but it felt natural to meet his dominance.

Her mind was spinning and she wanted him to take care of her, tell her what to do, and instead of being scared because she’d never wanted anything like this before, it felt like she was falling but it felt freeing.

“Please,” YN says because she forgets the question that he asked already, anticipating the switch between taps and pinches that keep her body taut on top of him.

Harry loosens his hold on her chin, surprisingly gentle as he tilts it down to get a better look at her, and his face softens for the first time all night, “Jesus Christ, look at you. You’re the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen, you know that? Look how gone you are already. S’fucking adorable.”

She wants him to kiss her, so bad but he’s keeping his lips right out of her reach.

YN obviously didn’t know Harry before tonight but the amount of chemistry between them felt like they’ve done this together a million times.

There was no embarrassment on YN’s end over how much she was just folding for him and there was no hesitance in Harry taking control of everything.

“You’re being mean,” YN accuses as he pushes her underwear to the side, only to trace his fingertips along the outside of her folds, petting at the wetness before smearing it over her lips and leaning forward to lick it off but not quite kissing her.

“You’re cute,” Harry laughs as he presses his thumb between her folds, parting them, and finally giving a few harsh rubs to where she needed the friction the most, “You haven’t seen anything yet, darling. Now relax until we get to mine.”

The line of townhouses where Harry lives, well YN is familiar with because quite a few of her clients live in them.

They were in the heart of London, old brick structures that had five or six floors, she couldn’t remember, and they cost more than what most people could even dream about making.

It’s no surprise how beautiful the interior is, if not a little too basic and boring like he’d just hired a designer to make it look sophisticated and modern without adding even a single touch of himself to the home.

Harry walks her into the house, body pressed up right behind her, and he runs his lips against the nape of her neck after pushing her hair to the side, “Do you need anything first? Drink, food, bathroom?”

YN shakes her head, allowing Harry to start removing her coat, “No.”

“Do you know your colors?” Harry murmurs, his voice softer and serious, like he wasn’t trying to be sexy right now but wanted a real answer.

For a moment, YN blanks because of course she knows her colors, she’s a grown woman but then wants to smack herself when she realizes what he’s actually asking about.

She did know.

She tried a few things with a previous boyfriend where they discussed safe words but never needed to actually use anything except ‘green’ because it never got far enough to need any others.

“Yes, red means stop, yellow means check-in, green means good to go,” YN recites as he turns her around, walking her back into a wall, and just surrounds her with every part of him.

“Smart girl,” Harry agrees, rewarding her with a squeeze to her hip, “Not that I plan for us to do anything crazy tonight. We just met. I just want you to be able to express where you’re at and know we can stop at any time, okay? Is this something you’re comfortable with doing? If it’s not, we can totally have-“

“Just shut up and do something,” YN complains, already feeling a bit spoiled as she appreciates his reminders but god, she wants this so much - can he not see that?

A wicked smile lights up on his face, her hand moving from her hip all the way up her side until it’s resting on the side of her throat, running his thumb over the hollow of her collarbones.

She leans in for a kiss but frowns when he stops her.

“Beg,” he demands, voice impossibly deeper than before.

YN lets a surprised chuckle slip, eyes wide in disbelief, “You want me to beg to kiss you?”

She didn’t want to admit how fucking hot she actual found that.

“You’re going to do a lot of it tonight, pet,” Harry tells her, unwavering in what he’s asking and not breaking eye contact, “I’ll give you anything you want, as long as you beg pretty f’me.”

“Please,” She replies, swallowing hard, watching him carefully.

“Please what?” Harry replies with a displeased wilt of his lips, it’s odd how it makes her heart drop like she’s doing something wrong and she instantly wants to make it right.

“Kiss me,” YN breathes, eyes darting between his eyes and mouth, she was breathing heavily like she’d just run a marathon - sweat already beading at her temples.

“Good girl,” he rewards automatically, nodding his head, and pressing their hips tightly together when he takes another step forward.

YN doesn’t know why because never in the past has praise made her stomach flip but when he told her she was good, it felt like he’d just given her the highest compliment of all time.

He dips down and connects their mouths, it’s surprisingly sweet for a moment as he gently goads her into opening up so that he can take control, and it only makes sense that he’s skilled.

Harry’s hands are moving once again, to her shirt, and YN lifts her arms up to give him permission which he takes, pulling back to yank it roughly over her head like he couldn’t get it off her fast enough.

“May I?” He asks as his fingertips dance along the lace of her bra.

His voice hasn’t changed from the stable and calm which was the exact opposite to the chaotic frenzy that had overtaken YN’s brain.

“Yes,” YN agrees, reaching behind herself to begin to unclasp her bra which earns a pinch to her hip.

“I didn’t ask you to take it off, did I?” He rumbles as YN’s hands fall back at her sides, allowing him to reach around her to without any struggle unclasp the latch of her bra and he drags it down her arms, tossing it to the floor.

YN feels embarrassed for a moment because she was standing in front of the most attractive man she’s ever seen in her life, let alone somehow managed to get to take her home, and he’s probably seen his fair share of beautiful people.

It’s instinct to move to cover herself.

“What’s that for?” Harry frowns as he notices her arm moving up, his voice is softer than it’s been all night, gentle and cautious, “What’s your color?”

“Green,” YN responds immediately, “I just…I’m being stupid.”

And her heart is sinking because she feels like she’s killing the entire mood with her insecurity that she’s never had quite like this before but standing in front of him was….a lot.

“You’re not being stupid, it’s okay, pup,” Harry soothes, his hands coming to rub at her forearm before he’s gently tugging them away, his eyes glued to her chest as it’s revealed once again.

“This is what you wanted to hide from me and you call me mean?” Harry huffs as he cups them, fitting perfectly into his hands as his thumbs come to brush where her nipples are already pebbled from the chill in the room, “You have the prettiest tits I’ve ever seen, darling. God, I could stare at you forever and never get bored.”

YN has to remind herself that it’s all talk, this is what people do at random hookups, say things that they will forget in the morning because they were meaningless - Harry wasn’t doing anything more than that.

“I need more,” YN whimpers because the way he was teasing at her nipples with light swipes of his thumbs, not giving anything more than that, she felt like she was going to go insane when he leaned down to swipe his tongue around both of them to get them harder before pulling back, she tacks on, “Please.”

“Since you asked so nicely. I guess I could give you a little more,” He hums thoughtfully, moving to roll them between his forefinger and thumb, giving enough of a pinch that it makes her gasp.

YN realizes that’s all he’s going to give her, a little bit more, but still not enough.

Now it’s clicking, she’s going to have to ask, scratch that, beg for anything she wants.

Even though he’s the one being dominant, she actually has all the control.

She’s not used to talking so much during hookups, let alone having to ask for what she wants but if that’s what she had to do to get more from him - well that’s what she’s going to do.

“Harry, I-“ YN’s mind blanks for a moment when he gives a particularly good twist as he sucks a mark into the underside of her jaw, “I need more, I’m so wet.”

It was the truth, she needed friction, touch, something.

“You’re wet? Why didn’t you say so, pet?” Harry teases, acting like he’s surprised by her words, “Gonna let me take this off you? Let me see what else you’re hiding from me?”

“Yes, take it off,” YN agrees breathlessly, hand coming to balance of his shoulder when he unzips her skirt, kicking it off her ankles when it falls to the floor, and catches Harry staring at her once again.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty. How did I manage to get you to come home with me, baby?” Harry asks but it doesn’t sound teasing or like a line as he snaps the elastic of her thong against her skin.

YN knows she’s not in charge but she isn’t thinking before she’s stepping forward and leaning up to kiss him, her hand cupping his jaw because even just for a moment, she wants his mouth again.

He’s definitely surprised by the action but not unpleased, kissing her back and taking the lead again by moving her how he wants her, and he allows it for a long moment before pulling back, a soft smirk on his lips.

“Just wanted a kiss,” YN tells him, hand still on his face.

“Wanted a kiss, hm? You’re the sweetest thing, aren’t you?” Harry chuckles as he pulls her back in for another, brushing their lips together, biting at her bottom lip, and then soothing it with his tongue, “You’re so good, you know that?”

It seems like the sharpness from earlier, the more demanding dominance has faded into something much sweeter which YN enjoys just as much as she enjoyed how their encounter started, this was just as good.

Harry’s hand moves down the center of her sternum, drifting left to tweak her nipple once more before starting to drag down her belly which has her sucking in when goosebumps break out on her skin.

“Love how you react to me,” Harry murmurs, kissing along her jaw as he hooks the band of her underwear under his thumb, “Know you’ll be so pretty for me when I’m touching you, yeah?”

“Then touch me,” YN bites out, her arousal was swirling at a vicious quell in the pit of her stomach and she felt like she was going to explode if she didn’t get relief soon, she wasn’t used to being teased like this, she was on fire.

Harry laughs meanly, hand quick as it moves to part her folds and press firm circles on her clit, “Oh darling, just because I’m being nice doesn’t mean that I’m not in charge. You’re not tough, not with that way you’re dripping on my palm.”

The thing is, Harry isn’t all talk because he finds her spot in less than five seconds when he slips down to push two fingers into her and crook them towards himself, his palm coming to lie flat against her clit to give her friction.

“Ride ‘em for me,” Harry tells her as he still them inside of her, eyes flickering between her face and center like he’s spoiled for choice.

YN doesn’t feel any of that earlier embarrassment, she feels empowered now as she bears down before pulling back up, short ruts of her hips because they’re still standing and she can only do so much.

She moans loudly when he presses the heel of his palm more directly against her which leaves her torn between grinding forward or moving up and down on his fingers because both feel so good.

“Listen to me,” Harry reminds her sternly, it doesn’t need any further explanation because he’d already told her what he wanted and the self-indulgent figure eights of her hips weren’t conducive to that.

YN struggles not to grind forward to give her clit the friction that it’s craving but it feels amazing every time he strokes against her spot too.

She’s definitely never been with someone who’s been able to make her feel like this.

“Oh, look at that pout,” Harry coos, his free hand coming up to pull at her jutted out bottom lip and drag it down, “You spoiled little thing, s’embarassing how much I’m willing to let slide right now.”

The last sentence was quieter, almost like he was saying it to himself but she can’t dwell on that for much longer because she feels the tightness in her stomach start to ball up in anticipation.

“I’m close, Harry,” YN mewls as she starts to grind her hips forward again and ignoring his prompts from earlier, she was being selfish now in chasing her relief that she’s been craving.

“Well you’re not coming because you can’t seem to listen very well,” Harry replies as he pulls his hand out from her underwear, the elastic causing a mark on his hand where it’s been stretched taut around his wrist.

YN whines when that building of sensation begins to fizzle out.

She’s never been denied like this before.

It was usually quite the accomplishment when a guy could get her there in the first place.

Now Harry was making it seem simple to get her to the edge, simple enough that he didn’t care about taking it away from her either.

“No, no,” YN gasps when her legs start to feel unsteady from how much she’d been tensing them previously, there’s no stopping the tears that are stemming at the corner of her eyes now.

Harry’s expression changes once again, the dominance and teasing dissipating into something sweeter as he brings her into his chest, kissing the apples of her cheeks as he sweeps a few hairs off her face.

“S’okay,” He simpers, it isn’t teasing or condescending, “No used to being denied, are you?”

YN shakes her head, basking in the way his hands are rubbing at her sides, massaging at her hips.

“Color?”

“Green.”

Without a second thought.

The brightest green possible.

Maybe the green of his eyes.

“Can I take you to my room?” Harry asks softly, pulling back to study her face and swipe over cheekbones where she knows she’s overheated.

“Please,” YN replies, taking his hand when he holds it out.

As they walk through the expanse of his home, up the flight of stairs, she realizes just how dressed he is in comparison to her - everything but his jacket still on as his boots click against the hardwood floors.

His room is similar to the rest of the home, barely lived in with not even a picture to make it seem homey.

The colors were dull neutrals of beige, tan, white, and not one thing that made it seem like he slept here every night - even the bed was made with tight lines and tucked corners.

It was beautiful, all of it, expensive-looking but not for a home, maybe for a hotel.

The only sign of him was the closet that was open, rows of neatly hung and organized clothes lining the walls to show that this was in fact a lived-in space.

YN sits on the edge of the bed as Harry moves around to turn on a few of the lamps before turning off the brighter overhead.

He comes to stand in front of her, his hand coming down to cup her face once again, he’s looks mesmerized by her, the way his eyes are tracing over every single one of her feautres, “I want you so much.”

YN’s breathing hitches, getting caught in her throat for a moment becuase he says it with such intensity and she truly can feel how much he means it.

It’s too intimate for a one night stand.

All of this has been already.

“I don’t want to wait any longer,” YN tells him honestly, it’s not that she didn’t enjoy the teasing.

No, she absolutely loved it.

She could imagine a whole day laid up in bed with him, letting him play with her however she wanted but now wasn’t the time, the need was too intense to have the patience for that.

His lips tilt up at that, “Don’t think I could say ‘no’ to you even if I wanted. Caught me ‘round your finger, haven’t you? Impossible not to be gone with your beauty, if I’m honest. Everything about you.”

It’s all talk, YN reminds herself.

All part of the give and take of a one-time hookup.

YN moves to begin to undress him but he bats her hands away, moving much quicker to rid himself of his clothes, and though his shirt hadn’t left much to the imagination - it’s still startling to see how fit he is.

His muscles quite literally ripple as he bends down to rid himself of his trousers, as he tucks his thumbs into his briefs, and shimmies them down his lean thighs without an ounce of insecurity like YN have.

There was no world where he’d need to be insecure, not with how defined and beautiful his body was, the tattoos just the icing on the cake to what was already breathtaking.

When she reaches out, without even thinking to wrap her hand around him because that part of him matches the attractiveness of the rest of him - unfair that he’s so magnificently built and has a length to match.

He wraps his fingers around her wrist, moving to lay her hand flat on his abdomen, shaking his head, “Tonight’s about you, pup. What do you want?”

YN lets her hand wander over the expanse of his stomach, dipping into the ridges of hard muscle until she’s met with the softer, plush of his hips, and repeating the process over and over.

“Puppy,” Harry laughs fondly at her distractedness, tapping her on the nose to get her attention.

The laugh stops when YN leans forward to press her lips against his warm skin, appreciative kisses smeared against the butterfly on his upper stomach, the light sprinkling over hair by his bellybutton.

“How-“ Harry’s breathing heavier now, voice not sounding as confident for a moment until he clears his throat and sounds more steady, “How do you want it, darling?”

YN pulls back, albeit unwillingly, and it’s a hard question.

Now she’s spoiled for choice.

But there’s one thing that she cannot get out of her head.

“I want to ride you,” YN decides finally, lifting her hips when Harry finally gets her thong off, wriggling the tight fabric off the thick of her hips and thighs before he’s adding them to the pile of clothes on the floor.

“I-“ Harry’s voice is unsteady again, “Are you sure? I can do the work, pet.”

“It’s what I want,” YN tells him with an unwavering gaze.

“S’what you’re going to get then,” Harry rumbles in agreement, surprising her when he sits next to her on the end of the bed, fully expecting him to shimmy up towards the middle to splay out.

He tugs her onto his lap until she’s straddling him with knees pressed into the mattress on either side, and chest squished up against his.

His hands move to cup her bum, moving to situate them just right but YN is too impatient for the careful positioning that Harry’s doing, reaching down to guide him into where she needed him most.

“Fucking hell,” Harry moans lowly in surprise as she sinks down onto him.

He fits in her perfectly, it was exactly what she needed but because she was so on edge, she knew that she wasn’t going to be able to last long because that tension was already building back up in her belly.

“Harry,” YN moans as she sits down completely, clit brushing against his pubic bone to provide the friction that she needed.

“You’re okay, you’re perfect. There you go,” He encourages, one hand still on her ass, and the other moving to cup her neck, “You’re such a good girl, never had anyone take it so well.”

A flame of jealousy shouldn’t lick up her spine at the thought of him with someone else but it does momentarily.

YN lifts up to start a rhythm that works more for her than for him, rotating her hips instead of bouncing to get him to reach the spot inside of her while getting the sensation on her bud at the same time.

Harry doesn’t seem to mind how greedy and self-indulgent she’s being right now, holding her closely, and murmuring words of encouragement against her cheek where his lips are brushing soft kisses.

“There you go, take what you want. S’yours.”

“That’s it, you feel so good on me.”

“You’re wrecking me, pup. Never had it this good.”

It was all too much, too intimate, too addicting for one time.

When Harry grips her bum harder, directing her grinds more harshly into him, more unrelenting and intense, it barrels her towards the release that she’s been craving since he met him.

“I’m….I’m coming,” YN pants out, she was sheen with sweat, the previous chilled house seeming like a sauna as her skin sticks to Harry’s, hips picking up the pace as the band in her belly releases and she’s barreling over the edge.

“Yeah, pup. Give it to me, you’re the most beautiful thing, coming on my cock,” Harry groans as she squeezes around him, it doesn’t take more than two or three thrust upwards for him to follow suit.

“Fuck, you did so good,” Harry sighs as they sit there, he keeps her in his lap as he brushes her hair away from her face and neck, peppering kisses along her sweaty temple, and rubbing up and down her back.

It was too intimate.

YN was liking this too much.

And god, that really fucking scared her.

YN’s quiet when they finally separate, Harry goes about cleaning them both up as best as he can with a damp cloth, and there’s no conversation about her spending the night because he’s tucking her into the comforter without discussion before sliding in next to her.

When YN wakes up the next time, it’s still dark outside, and she realizes that she was awoken by movement in the room.

As she sits up, she blinks the sleep out of her eyes, and her bones still feel heavy from not getting enough sleep to recover from her activities on the night.

There’s only a dim lamp in the corner of the room, it highlights Harry who’s now dressed in a pair of dress pants, a button- up and suit jacket slung over a chair in the corner of the room.

The clock reads five in the morning. .

“Hi,” YN rasps, voice thick with sleep, no attempting to keep the confusion out of her tone.

She rubs her eyes to try to wake herself a bit more.

When Harry looks over at her - well, he looks different.

He doesn't have a twinkle in his eye and his lips are set in a firm line.

There hadn’t been anything that had happened between the time he helped lay her down in his bed and now that would warrant the change in his demeanor but she already felt her stomach sinking before the words came out of his mouth.

“You can leave now. I’ve folded on the bench with money for a cab. I need you out in the next twenty minutes, I have to go,” Harry states bluntly, uninterested in her response as he goes back to his suitcase without another glance.

True to his word, on the bench in front of the bed was her outfit neatly folded and bills for a ride home.

What a fucking asshole.

“You must be joking,” YN laughs in disbelief, was she really getting kicked out right now?

Her mind was spinning.

How did they go from having such an amazing, intimate night to being kicked to the curb?

It wasn’t like she expected them to fall madly in love or for him to even want her number but of course there was hope this could be more.

She just wasn’t expecting this.

“I have multiple meetings this morning before I leave on a business trip. I don’t have time for this back and forth. I don’t know what your expectations of me were but this is where our night ends. We fucked, that’s it. Alright?” Harry’s tone is monotone, emotionless, and he won’t even look at her.

YN lets out a scoff for him to know just how pissed off she was, ripping the comforter off her body and letting it crumble onto the ground as she slides out of the bed.

She looks down and realizes Harry had slid a very baggy shirt onto her, probaly as she was falling asleep last night.

It was a Kiss band tee.

It looked expensive and vintage.

It nearly brushed her mid-thighs.

Fuck it, she’s not giving it back.

Gathering in her phone, dress, shoes, she storms out of his bedroom.

She could get her own fucking cab.

YN makes her way quickly through the maze of the rather large house, finding the staircase and wanting to get out of this house as soon as fucking possible with annoyance when she hears him trailing after her.

When her hand reaches the knob on his front door, he’s not far behind her, having the advantage of knowing his way around his own house.

“You can wait for your ride here. It’s still dark out. You don’t have to stand outside. Are you going to put your clothes back on? You don’t have any pants on and it’s cold out.”

He doesn’t ask for his shirt back.

YN laughs dryly, no humor in his tone as she says, “Now you care? I’d rather not spend another minute in your house, prick.”

With that, she’s yanking open the heavy front door, ready to never see this man again.

Before she closes it, she looks at Harry who’s looking at her with a mixed expression of concern, surprise, and anger.

It was comical.

“And I don’t need your fucking money,” She spits, tossing the bills back into the house, slowly dancing to the ground before slamming the front door.

Already pulling up Uber on her phone as she walks down the sidewalk.

Fuck that asshole.

++++

YN tossed and turned a bit when she got back home - still infuriated with the man she’d just left.

It didn’t help that he had made her feel so much pleasure and that sex had been amazing.

He had to ruin it with his shitty personality.

He really did put on a good act though.

When she’s finally up, later than normal, and stirring her iced coffee with too much caramel and creamer, she gets an incoming call.

“Hiya babe,” An voice chirps, someone she doesn’t want to talk to right at this moment.

“What do you want?” YN mutters back, sipping on her drink without enthusiasm.

“I got a last minute job for you,” He supplies, his voice a little hesitant.

Niall was the...well the middle-man so to speak.

He was the liaison between her and the men she called her sugar daddies.

Niall worked for a higher up - it was a shady business at best but they did take care of their girls.

YN was grateful for their safety measures.

Background checks, always having security on standby if a girl needs help, as well as giving the women freedom to turn down men they didn’t want to deal with without a need for explanation.

“Now tell me, why does it sound like you’re about to tell me somethin’ I don’t like?” YN replies suspiciously.

Niall wasn’t ever known to be described as hesitant.

“I know it’s last minute, okay? But a new customer needs a date for a three day trip to Milan. The flight leaves tonight.”

“Fuck no, I -”

“He’s willing to pay fifty-thousand up-front to you, plus everything on the trip,” Niall tells her and she really can’t say no to that amount of money, he knows that and that’s why he’s even asking.

She’s never ever been offered that much.

It would help a lot.

“Fine,” YN sighs, rubbing a hand over her face at the thought of the quick packing and preparing that she’s going to need to do in a very short amount of time. “Does he know what I look like?”

Niall had a habit of not showing the men pictures - just assuring them that the girl is hot.

Only that sometimes doesn’t work out - not when the men have certain preferences such as body shape, hair color, eye color, etc…

“He didn’t want to see any pictures. He said that he didn’t care what the girl looked like as long as she cleaned up nicely and could hold herself intelligently at his events. The man literally only wants you as arm candy,” Niall replies.

This all sounds a bit too good to be true, “Niall, are you sure this is legitimate?”

“Of course. Did a background check, Job check, he paid us his ten-thousand dollar deposit upfront plus an extra five grand due to the short notice. He provided all of his information and signed all the forms.”

“He’s dumb rich, isn’t he?” YN laughs, hearing the absurd amount of money he dished out for a three-day date.

He must be desperate.

“Only worth a cool four-hundred and thirty million dollars.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Not even joking, I should have charged the dude more if I’m honest,” Niall laughs loudly.

“Must have one hell of an ugly mug if he can’t find a girl willing to go without paying,” YN chuckles - girls don’t care what men look like when their wallets are fat enough.

“I met him earlier. Handsome bloke, young dude too. Quite a mystery but I don’t ask questions - just accept the money. He had it all in cash,” Niall tells her before adding, “I’m going to send you all the details. You need to be at the port by six sharp.”

YN guesses an all expenses paid trip to Milan would be a nice way to get her shitty day off of her mind.

She couldn’t have been more wrong.

YN’s Uber gets to the private airport just a bit before six, they were already getting everything ready to go as she exits the car and thanks the driver after he gets her two suitcases out of the boot.

She always had a bit of nerves before meeting her next client, this could be a very easy three days or difficult depending on who he is but usually it worked out just fine and she was never trapped.

However when a sharp, matte black phantom pulls up to the tarmac, YN knows that has to be her client’s car, and when the door opens, the opposite way than normal, she’s more than flabbergasted by who exits.

None other than Harry who looks equally as surprised as her before he hardens his facial features once again.

#harry styles writing #harry styles #harry styles masterlist #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles au #harry styles fanfic

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muzanswaifu · 1 year ago

Text

Out of Options

Sugardaddy!Toji x Fem!Reader

18+

You needed money. He wanted free use. You weren't past making an exchange... until he started to get cheap. What else was a girl to do?

5k Words

Big thank you to my beta readers @mistymuichiro & @thosestarry-nights & @mrskokushibo !!!

Sfw Warnings: Sugar Daddy Toji, Sugar Baby Reader, Themes of prostitution, Angst, Bad Communication, Toxic Relationships, Creepy Old Men, Misogyny, Toxic Work Environment, Jealousy

Nsfw Warnings: Smut, Hints of Breeding Kink, Dirty Talk, Fingering, Oral Sex (fem! receiving), Cunnilingus, Squirting

The wooden frame of the bed slammed viciously into the thin walls of the motel bedroom, the withered coat of eggshell white chipping away with the ruthless collision, likely cracking the wood as well. The hellish creaking burned into your ears, scratching at the back of your brain and preventing any chance of relaxing in the moment. You’d had a shitty day, and the fact that this wasn’t even the worst of it was almost sad.

Work was exhausting, stupid old men yelling at you all day that you couldn’t do your job and the lead physician not doing a thing to stop them. Not to mention that you were in charge of most of the side work all day, replacing the instruments and utensils, emptying trash bins, cleaning out inpatient rooms, none of which was given to any of the newer technicians. You were good at what you did. You studied hard in school, you perfected all of your residency, you had astounding references. Your only flaw? Your gender. You were one of the only females in your department - hell - in the entire building. Most either quit or moved to different hospitals, entirely due to the terrible environment. None of your peers or superiors or inferiors respected you. You were always stuck with the dirty, side work while the others got to do what your job actually entailed, and the rare occurrences when you did get the opportunity to work with patients, they were always abusive to you. It was hell.

But what other choice did you have?

All the other openings at other hospitals were either filled or about to be. No other fields or retail jobs made enough pay. You didn’t have near enough money or grounds to seek out legal help. You were stuck. You were desperate for money. You were out of options.

You had family to take care of - two brothers, a sister, your mother. Dad died years ago in a car accident. Mom was already working overtime with two jobs, barely making ends meet. Rent, insurance, taxes, student loans, car payments, groceries, clothing, hospital bills, schooling, existing. It all cost money. So much money. It felt like you were suffocating. You were out of options.

Finally the creaking stopped. You back was already sore beyond belief and your legs numb. Your knees were probably bruised, too. Damn, you could go for some marble cheesecake right now. Your nose scrunched as you smelt the familiar scent of cigarette smoke, you lungs burning from the second hand nicotine.

“Here.”

A wad of cash fell across your back, the paper crunchy and bent. You groaned as you rose up, stretching your back out and hissing at how tight you were. How much was ibuprofen again?

You flicked through the money, your brow furrowing when you shuffled across the last layer.

“This isn’t enough,” you countered.

The end of his cigarette burned gold. He stood in front of the window, brushing away the curtain to peer outside as he took a drawl. He was still naked and didn’t seem in a rush to dress himself.

“It’d be more if ya didn’t make me wear a condom.”

You scowled but kept silent, fidgeting at the sides of your panties where he tied the damn things. The latex was knotted tight with each used rubber, five in total today. It’d be easier to just throw the whole pair away.

He took another hit.

“Won’t make our date on Saturday,” he mumbled, “got plans.”

You were already redressing yourself, desperate to get out of there and get going. Shower. Eat. Jerk off. Go to sleep. There were only so many hours in a day and you still had work in the morning.

You sighed, “Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

He chuckled softly to himself. “How’s work.”

“Bye, Toji.”

The store wasn’t all that crowded surprisingly. It was Thursday afternoon, but people tended to not follow norms around here when it came to scheduling. They were out of marble cheesecake so you had to get turtle. It was too sweet in your opinion.

Everyone was asleep when you got home, but you were grateful for the privacy. Mom was still at work.

You locked your door and ruffled through your bottom drawer, fetching out your vibrator. The fan in your room was loud so nobody could hear it anyway. God, you were tired.

You never thought of anything particular when you were trying to get off, it honestly depended on the day. Sometimes you thought about getting eaten out slowly by a fireplace. Sometimes you thought about getting dicked down in a dark alley. No matter the scenario, there was only one similarity. You never imagined anyone in particular. You couldn’t put a face to the man. He was big, muscular, strong. You felt safe yet thrilled underneath him. But you couldn’t see him, if that made any sense.

Your sex drive had always been high. Ever since puberty you were antsy and pent up, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to date. Your first boyfriend was overwhelmed with how needy you were, and the moment you sensed his rejection, your attraction to him plummeted. You needed to feel secure before you felt horny. Were you demisexual? Maybe. You weren’t sure and hardly had time to find yourself.

You tried to find another partner again in your third year of college. There was a party at a local bar, and your friends hyped you up to go. You were both drunk, him more than you. He had whiskey dick. You didn’t feel comfortable. You left relatively quickly after calling him an uber. Failed again.

You didn’t try again after that.

You were fine keeping to yourself. You had your own assortment of toys awaiting you in your room. And work only solidified your hatred of the male species. You likely would’ve remained celibate forever if you hadn’t run into Toji.

You had just gotten off work, walking through the subway to catch the next train. Your engine was busted so your car was in the shop. Not many people were around, and the ones that were left after a while since it was taking too long. But you were too tired to walk so you stayed. The sketchy figures in the back didn’t seem like a big deal at the time. Finally the train came and you got on, only about six people onboard. The man a couple feet down on the bench smelt like burnt flesh. He had a cigar in his mouth despite the no smoking sign. Whatever, it wasn’t any of your business. Your left side was occupied, surprisingly, despite the abundance of free seats. This man was close, too close. Two others gathered in front of you.

“Where ya headed to baby?

“Yeah, yeah, you need some company?“

“We’ll treat ya real nice.”

You tried to ignore their taunts, keeping your eyes down and trying to appear as small as possible. You immediately noticed when a knife was drawn.

“We’re tryna talk to you, bitch.”

The blade nicked the bottom of your jaw, your blood running cold.

“Yer makin’ too much ruckus over there.”

Everyone slowly turned to look at who spoke. The man looked without a care in the world.

“Didn’t fuckin’ ask you, now did I old man?” The knife was now pointed to him.

He drew a long sigh and took out his blunt, pressing the lit end into the seat, the plastic screaming in agony.

You don’t really remember the rest of the conversation. Everything was a blur. Words were said. Punches were thrown. Bones were shattered. The man with the cigarette hardly got up from his seat, really. The next thing you knew he was sat back down and the others were lying on the floor, knocked out. You shifted your feet away so they didn’t get near the bodies.

Awkwardly, you tried to thank him, offer him what little you had in your pocket, mostly out of fear. You didn’t want to get on the bad side of someone who could so easily hurt people, and you didn’t want to appear ungrateful. Based on the scar that tore into his mouth, he’d seen his fair share of violence. He turned it down. You offered to buy him food. He turned it down. Medical care to clean his fists? He turned it down. You were out of options. Was there anything you could offer him? His answer still burned in your mind.

“You wanna fuck?”

The money afterward was unexpected. You woke up sore and broken, your thighs burning and covered in bruises. He was long gone, in his place a wad of cash that made your eyes bulge. Did he think you were a hooker? You weren’t sure. The sex wasn’t bad. You didn’t get off, but he obviously knew what he was doing. It felt nice. You felt safe.

Your next meeting, he found you walking the streets. Money in hand, stinking of booze. Wagging a room key in your face and giving you an address to go to if you need some money. Maybe he thought you were someone else. You didn’t care. You needed money and didn’t mind the sex. You were always wet enough to be comfortable for a decent amount of time, but it would hurt more after each round. You wish he didn’t last so long. Or for so many rounds. You wondered if he was even human. More money.

You had a couple rules for your… relationship. No kissing. No oral (for either of you). No raw contact or cumming on your body. No telling. You didn’t need a reputation.

He paid based on what he felt like paying you, but he was never stingy so you didn’t mind. Until lately.

He wasn’t paying as much as he used to. He didn’t seem to be enjoying himself as much. Maybe he was getting bored. You were worried.

You needed the money. You always needed money. And this wasn’t paying like it used to. It was a hard pill to swallow, but you knew what you had to do.

You needed another outlet.

It was going to be hard to find one. You were essentially selling your body, but you still had standards. You refused to sleep with anyone who you didn’t find attractive, anyone who was married, anyone dangerous. Your work was cut out for you.

And since you were now free on Saturday, you would go out then.

You put your siblings to bed early, double checking with mom that she’d be out until early morning. You dressed nice but not too nice. Hot but not too hot. It was a fine line you were walking, and you absolutely were not going to cross it.

The bar in the popular part of the city was going to be the number one spot for rich bachelors. You never went there yourself because it was so expensive and uptight, but you were looking to get drinks anyway. You didn’t have to wait long before you had a drink in front of you, courtesy of a gentleman sitting in a booth in the back. He was too old for you but you smiled at him. The others came quickly. You had the bartender sneak most of them into the sink. You couldn’t get drunk and most of these men you wouldn’t touch with a ten foot pole. It was starting to get late. You didn’t spot anyone worth your while.

“This seat taken?”

You whipped around to your right, surprised to see a young man - no - someone your age in here. Not to mention attractive. You shook your head, trying to cover your own shock.

“Not a lot of… not… old guys in here, am I right?” He laughed, nodding toward the tables of older gentleman. Most were fifty or so. You felt gross now realizing how many were staring at you.

You laughed back nervously, “Yeah…”

“What brings you here?” He asked innocently, “Not that you don’t belong here! You just look… I don’t know - uncomfortable?”

You cringed. Did you look uncomfortable?

“Yeah, sorry. Just… hanging around, I suppose,” you offered. He was too cute now. You couldn’t bring yourself to take his money even if you wanted to.

He smiled. “Same here. I thought this place was going to be fun, but there’s not a lot to do.” He looked around. “Most of these guys are talkin’ business.” Looking around yourself, you realized he was right. Most of them were meeting up with business partners whiles others were trying to make business partners. Some looked pretty shady. You were getting more nervous by the minute.

“I-I have to go,” you mumbled quickly, getting up from your seat end creeping toward the door. He was surprised. “Uh, by-”

You bumped into something, stumbling back into the bar.

“Oi, you should watch where you’r-”

You gasped.

The music got louder. The air felt heavy. His eyes looked dark.

The corners of his mouth tugged down and his eyes narrowed. Sweat condensed on your brow.

“What are you doing here?” He growled, his stature big and menacing. His green eyes bore into you sharply.

“I-I-I-”

“Hey-” The boy from before was back. “Are you okay?” He looked to Toji and frowned.

“This guy bothering you?” He asked, all too naive. You gently pushed him back. You could see Toji about to pounce.

You pushed him back a little harder when he didn’t get the hint. “No, it’s fine, man,” you told him, “just go.”

He gave you another concerned look, but left when you gave him a stern one. You felt bad. He seemed nice.

Much to your disappointment, the other man you were dealing with didn’t just vanish into thin air. You sighed. “I was just about to leave, anyway.” You tried to step past him. He didn’t let you, his wide torso stepping in front of you. His smirk made your skin crawl.

“Let’s talk.”

You weren’t given the option to deny him as he stole you away, a large fist grabbing you arm far too harshly. He pulled you through the exit, dragging you down the crowded street. Any struggle you made was met with a firm tug, his grip getting tighter and tighter. You were definitely going to bruise.

When you’d rounded lone alleyway between the buildings, he’d pressed you against the wall, the grainy texture of the brick scratching your skin.

“What the fuck was that about, huh?” He hissed, his teeth sharp and burning white.

“You fucking around? You screw any of those fuckers?” He’d never been so angry with you before. He’d never been angry with you, period. Your heartbeat pounded in your ears.

“N-no!” you argued, “Toji, no. What the hell - what are you doing here?” When he gave no answer, his eyes still glaring, you continued.

“You said you were busy today…”

No answer.

“I can spend my free time wherever I want.”

No. Answer. Your eyes glazed over, and you turned away from him.

“I… needed money…”

With that he seemed to let up.

“Money?” He scoffed. “This how you get money now? What the fuck happened to your job?”

“Nothing… I just needed more.” You bit your lip. “Your’s isn’t enough.”

“What do you mean mine isn’t enough?” He barked. He wrapped his hand under you jaw, his palm grasping your pulse.

“I told you I’d give you more if you let me screw you raw. Didn’t I?”

You swallowed thickly, tears clinging to your eyelashes.

You looked back at him with fear in your eyes, his hand slowly closing around your neck. His expression softened ever so slightly as he realized he was scaring you.

He released you with a huff and walked a few steps away, running a hand down his face.

“What’s the issue? STDs? Birth control? I’m clean, and I’ll get you pills-”

“No!”

He looked at you surprised. You calmed yourself down and rubbed your arms, suddenly feeling the chill of the air.

“Toji…,” you began, “we’re… not together. You have your fun, I get paid - that’s all we do.” You looked up at him softly. “I need more than what you’re giving me.”

His eyes narrowed. “You saying you don’t have fun.”

You bit your lip and looked away. He scowled. Wrong answer.

He took wide strides forward, cornering you against the wall yet again, this time with his hands on either side of your head, forcing you to face him.

“You saying you don’t love it when I fuck you? That your cunt doesn’t fuckin’ love my cock?

You frowned back at him.

“You tell me.”

His mouth thinned.

It was no secret that you didn’t come when you two fucked. It’s not like he was trying either. You always prepped yourself beforehand, lubing yourself up and stretching yourself out so he didn’t hurt you. And during your escapades, he always just pulled his dick out and got to it. He never touched you more than necessary, never tried to feel you up or grope around. His only goal was to get himself off. And you were fine with that. So long as he paid you.

His eyes looked at you softly, he almost looked guilty, but you knew him better than that. You sighed and pushed away from him.

“It’s late… I gotta go hom-”

He grabbed your wrist, squeezing tight.

You looked down at it, his hand engulfing your arm, his fingers and knuckles all too big for you. His nails dug into your skin and he pulled you back. You couldn't walk away if you wanted to. You were trapped. You wanted to push him away, you wanted to be mad, but you couldn't find it in yourself.

He leaned in, his eyes soft yet cold.

You flinched, his lips connecting with the side of your neck. He was rough, his mouth moving against your flesh in a sloppy kiss. His tongue flicked across your neck, and his teeth tugged at your skin. He was hungry. Always hungry. You pushed your free hand against him. He ignored it.

His free hand snaked up to the underside of your breast, the other dropping to your hip, his palm resting on the bone. His thumb rubbed at the exposed skin where your chest spilled out. You felt conflicted.

He bit you harshly, drawing blood. Your eyes widened and you hissed.

“So that’s what this was all about, huh?” He rasped, his bottom lip resting on your skin, his breath hot.

“Little girl not cumming like she wants to?”

You pushed his face away and groaned.

“As if you’ve ever gotten me off? I’m leaving.”

You went to move, but he kept his grip tight. He grabbed the other wrist as well. He squeezed hard, forcing you to gasp. He smirked.

“You’re this stubborn you’ve forgotten how to ask for things? You had me worried there. Thought you were tryna end things for real.”

Your face flushed in anger and embarrassment. You yanked your arms away but he didn't let go. You tugged once, twice, three times - he didn't let go. You yelped as he tugged back, forcing you to stumble and fall against him. He pressed his hips against yours, his groin digging into your stomach. You grunted at the pressure, your toes curling at the contact. He was hard already, his cock throbbing against your navel.

He pinned your arms over your head, his weight forcing you up against the wall, his mouth looming over yours. You turned your head to the side. He couldn’t kiss you, that was against the rules. His hot breath fell down your cheek and neck.

He leaned in again and you turned away.

He was hungry. Always hungry.

He leaned in again. And again.

You whimpered softly and groaned. Your heart throbbed.

You swallowed thickly as he leaned in again, your chest heaving, his lips brushing against your jaw. You shook your head weakly. He huffed, a deep, almost animalistic rumble leaving his chest.

You whined and shut your eyes.

His tongue smoothed over your jawline, his hand finally letting go of you.

You placed a hand on his shoulder but didn't push him away. He was too strong, anyway.

He grunted and ran his fingers through your hair, grasping a handful and pulling your head back. You whined, the sound only encouraging him to continue, your hair tightening in his fist. He pushed his hips against yours, his hard cock pressing against your pelvis, the fabric of your skirt doing nothing to stop the feeling.

“C’mon sweetheart, Don’tcha wanna feel good?” He cooed.

He forced you into the wall once more, his free hand moving down to your thigh, squeezing the skin just under your knee. He pulled your leg up, wrapping it over his hip, his bulge rubbing your heat. A chuckle rose deep within his throat, and he licked at your ear.

“Ugh, Toji, stop it! You’re being annoying,” you complained, despite the thrill lacing up your spine. He laughed.

“Don’t lie,” the man crooned. “I’ll make you come so hard, you’ll be beggin’ me to fuck ya.”

Your cowered away. “Wha-” Umph.

You couldn’t finish as you we dropped onto a hard surface, a mixture of both brick and stale dirt. Looking up, dead branches and deader leaves filled your vision. The alley way had led to a smaller subsection of the street, a lone crevice in the city district that was long abandoned and withering away. Your dress was smushed into the dirt of the old dirt bowl that was in the center of the small courtyard, the tree taking root twisted and weak. It almost seemed pitifully metaphorical to your current situation.

A scheming hand slithered up your thigh, scrunching back your crinkled skirt and hiking it around your hips, your lacey g-string fully exposed.

“Fuck,” Toji moaned, licking his lips, “You were definitely looking to get fucked tonight.”

“No I wasn’t!” You countered nervously, trying to press your thighs together to hide yourself. Despite being in an abandoned area, you were still in a public space and didn’t want to be seen by anyone. Much less be here for the long duration it took him to be satisfied. But this time felt a bit different. He was taking his time, touching you more, teasing. He usually got straight to business and had his fly down by now, but instead it was you who was being undressed, his big, warm hands encompassing your thighs and groping them. He was trying to break another rule, you could feel it. He had a devious look in his eye. He smiled at you.

“How much to touch your pussy?”

You were taken aback by the question, squeezing your thighs even tighter.

“Wha- that’s off limits!”

“No, no,” he insisted, “everything’s got a price, baby. What’s yours?”

He couldn’t possibly be serious. You’d never seen him so adamant to give you pleasure, much less offer money for it. From your experience, men were hesitant to do anything besides receive, convincing themselves that woman adored pleasing them. And the rare moment when they did touch a girl, it was always careless and short-lived, the only real goal to get them wet enough to be a slippery hole. You weren’t in the mood to be disappointed.

“Thirty thousand yen? Forty?”

“Not interested.”

“More?”

“No.”

He leered.

“Three. Hundred. Thousand.”

Your eyes bulged. Mouth gaping.

“Th-thats…”

“Going once,” he announced. “Going twice!” Don’t let him get to three.

You could get a new computer with that, replace your old busted one that had lost half the keys and took fifty years to load.

“Going-”

“I’ll do it!” You gasped, defeated. “I’ll do it…”

His paws squeezed your thighs, drifting up the insides and gently prying them apart. You hardly fought him when you realized that was the only way you were going to get the money. New computer. New computer. You tried to focus on the positives.

Toji pressed his cheek into your inner thigh, kissing your skin softly. You shivered at the feeling of his soft lips brushing your flesh. He moved up your leg, placing his hands on each side of your panties and tugging them down, your skin glistening with sweat as he pulled the cloth against the curves of your flesh. He pulled your legs apart further and licked a long stripe up your skin. the wetness cold on your overheated flesh. You clenched your teeth. You were on the verge of telling him the deal was off, but his tongue brushed against your core and you could no longer find the words. He kissed and sucked at the sensitive skin of your thighs, leaving marks in his wake.

Your core throbbed.

He pulled you closer to the edge of the pot, your body lying at an awkward angle, the base of your spine aching.

Toji pressed a thumb against your slit, dragging it across your folds and collecting your slick on the pad. You shuddered.

He ran the pad of his thumb across your clit, rubbing slow circles into the bundle of nerves. You gripped his hair with one hand, tugging it hard, his muffled groan tickling your core. His finger slipped between your folds, easily entering your wet hole, his finger much bigger than your own. You grunted at the intrusion, the thick digit stretching your inner walls, his knuckle pressing against your clit as he bottomed out inside of you. He wiggled his finger, stretching your walls before pumping his finger in and out of your cunt, dragging out every little noise he could from your mouth.

He pulled you closer to the edge of your seat, your legs dangling in the air as he sat between your thighs, your hands digging into the dirt beneath you for support.

His finger moved slowly within you, his eyes never leaving yours, a fire burning within his emerald eyes. You grunted when he added another finger, the feeling almost too much for you. Your noises echoed briefly throughout the courtyard, bouncing off the concrete and surrounding buildings, and you were all too aware of how loud you were being. You pulled harder on his hair as the knot in your stomach grew tighter.

But you tried to keep your composure, your body still tense with the fear of your surroundings. Any moment someone could come waltzing by, see what you two were doing, your disheveled appearance, perhaps even try to take advantage. Your alarm hindered your concentration on the pleasure.

“What’s up?” You heard, turning your eyes back down to look at him. You hadn’t realized your gaze had wandered to the opening in the walls to where the city life buzzed about. He glanced over to where you were looking.

“Ain’t nobody comin’ over here. Relax,” he mumbled, his eyes getting warm again. “I’ll protect ya. Just relax.”

Your heart throbbed at the promise, warmth enveloping your body. You hesitantly let your head fall back and sighed, dropping your shoulders. His free hand moved to the hem of your skirt and pushed it up over your belly. He wanted a good view. You didn't care. You felt… safe.

His fingers picked up speed, fucking you harder as you bit your lip. His thumb moved back to your clit, rubbing circles on the swollen button. You hummed and sighed, his fingers twisting inside you. The pleasure began to build up again, boiling in your belly and tingling up your spine. And just when you got comfortable he only took it further.

Heat enveloped your clit, wet and slippery and hot like a warm bath. You gasped out, squirming around a bit and digging your nails into the roots in the ground. Looking back down, you confirmed your theory. Toji’s head was between your thighs, his mouth on your pussy and wrapped around your little bead, his fingers still working inside of you. Soft pants and whines left your mouth, your legs shaking around his head as he continued to suck at you, his tongue swirling around and prodding under the hood, leaving you slick and sensitive. Your core throbbed.

You felt a sharp pressure inside you, and then a slow stretch. You yelped. A third finger was entering you, your cunt molding around the thick digit. You writhed again, trying to ease the ache of the intrusion. His other hand rested on your belly, gently smoothing over your skin as he ate you. His head moved side to side, tongue laving over you, his hands never stopping their movements. Oh god. It felt like you going to- to-

“Ah!,” you moaned, shaking viciously and clutching at his head, holding him in place. You were melting, you were sure of it. Everything was slipping away from you, your bones, your brain, your worries. His tongue kept lashing at you, extending your pleasure and refusing to slow down. His fingers remained pressed against your sweet spot, his other hand pushing on your belly. It was all too much, you were squealing with overstimulation. It got tighter. And tighter. And tighter. Until something popped.

All the tension broke from your body, the shocking sensations melting into something warm and fuzzy. You slowly let go of everything, all tension easing away from you and allowing for complete bliss to take over. Sweet sighs and mewls left your lips, your back lying against the dirt as you caught your breath and waited for your head and pussy to stop tingling. Another whine was pulled from you when he took his fingers and mouth away from you, unraveling your legs from his head and stepping back.

“You fallin’ asleep now?” He laughed.

You pouted and groaned. “No… jus’… gimme a sec.” Your bones were like jelly, your eyelids heavy. He cackled at you and that was the push you needed to get off your ass. He looked smitten.

“Good, right?” He crooned, wiping his mouth, “Ya fuckin’ squirted on me.”

Your face got dark and you looked to your lap, embarrassed.

“Nothin’ to be ashamed about princess.” He assured, fishing out his wallet and shufflling through the bills. He took out a stack and threw it in your lap.

“It was hot.”

You groaned again and dug your face into your hands, trying to ignore his raspy laughing.

You jolted when you felt his breath on you, looking up and freezing. His eyes burned into you.

“Now next time, let’s work out this condom situation, alright?”

You gulped.

Part 2 coming eventually...

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writeonwhiskey · 1 year ago

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the skz house: ch 1

a/n: As of 10/25/24 this fic is complete. If you’re finding this after that date, please read and enjoy. And don’t be shy, share your thoughts along this wild ride 💜 HAVE FUN & BUCKLE UP!

Summary: Welcome to Sigma Kappa Zeta, the most popular fraternity on campus. When you, down on your luck and looking for a place to live, see their ad for ‘IN-HOUSE STAY’, you decide to check it out.

Chapter One: Of Breakups and New Housing

You’re sitting on the curb next to several suitcases and trash bags full of your belongings, feeling humiliated as cars pass by. You can’t fucking believe you thought it would be a good idea to rent an off campus apartment with your boyfriend—well, now ex-boyfriend, of three years. It’s not even a full two months into the semester and you both already decided to call it quits. Things had been rocky over the summer to begin with, but you hoped living together would fix it.

You were wrong. And stupid for letting him put only his name on the lease.

So what are you gonna do now? You can’t call your parents, they told you this was a bad idea from the start. You can’t give them the satisfaction of knowing they were right. Your friends are all in the dorms and, sure, you can crash with them for a couple nights but you need to find something for the remainder of the year.

You take out your phone, wiping the tears that fall from your eyes as you start looking for somewhere to live. A one bedroom apartment by yourself is completely out of the monthly budget your parents send. You’ll have to settle on a room or some sort of shared living environment.

Your scrolling stops when you see a post that says ‘FREE IN-HOUSE STAY’. You click on it to read more.

FREE IN-HOUSE STAY

It’s that time of year again. The members of Sigma Kappa Zeta (SKZ) have beds to fill. Stay will be free of charge, however there are stipulations. Further details will be provided in person. Send a direct message if you’re interested and we will provide the interview date.

You’ve heard of the SKZ fraternity in passing, but never participated much in Greek life on campus. The post feels a little sketchy, if you’re being honest with yourself, but you send the email anyways. If you can pocket the money your parents are sending and stay somewhere for free, maybe you can turn this shitty situation around in your favor.

You receive an email the following day that advises you to fill out an NDA and an application complete with a picture of yourself. You also go to a nearby clinic to complete a drug test and various other checks. Your interest in the ad is piqued, but the night spent on the floor of your friends dorm encourages you to pursue it.

Two days later you find yourself standing outside of the SKZ house with ten other women. The house is in a gated community and sits on a pretty large lot, enough room between it and the next that neighbors probably didn’t mind a bunch of college students staying there. It’s a three-story home and not too far from campus, maybe a thirty minute walk.

At 1:00pm the door opens and a tall, kinda lanky boy with a slender face greets you all. His eyebrows and most of his eyes are hidden behind his bangs, but he dons a welcoming smile. He’s wearing jeans and a black shirt with ΣΚΖ written across the chest in green letters.

“Please, come in,” he says, gesturing for you all to enter.

You all huddle in the foyer and he closes the door when the last girl enters before leading you into the living room. There’s a large, navy blue sectional where you all sit. When he exits the room, you fold your hands in your lap and cross your legs, shaking your nerves out through your foot. as you wait for whatever is about to happen.

You hear footsteps coming down the hall and eight men enter the room. If your life were a movie (it most definitely isn’t, you’re sleeping on a floor, remember?), this scene would play out in slow motion. They exude an air of confidence and nonchalance all at the same time. They’re all of similar heights, with hair color ranging from black to blonde, some are lanky, some are muscular—one is flat-out buff, and they’re all Korean. They’re…handsome? The word doesn’t feel like it suffices, though. Each and every one of them are breathtaking in a way that feels completely unfair and makes you question why you’re even there.

They spread out in a line in front of the TV mounted on the wall opposite the sectional. They’re all wearing the same thing—jeans and the black shirt with their fraternity initial across the front.

“Thank you for coming here today, ladies,” one of them starts to speak with a light Australian accent.

As your eyes focus on him, he looks familiar. He’s in one of your classes. He seemed rather quiet and reserved in class, but here he’s easily taking charge and leading the situation. His eyes meet yours for a brief moment and he offers a tight-lipped half-smile and nod.

“I’m Chan,” he continues. “The is Lee Know, Changbin, Hyunjin, Han, Felix, Seungmin and Jeongin.”

Each member waves as he gestures to them and says their name. Seungmin is the one who had opened the door.

“We’re sure you’re curious as to what our post entails…let me explain.” Chan begins. “Here at Sigma Kappa Zeta, we strongly pursue the strongest version of ourselves. We work hard, study hard, and play hard. We want all of our members to be at their best at all times. We cannot achieve the goals and dreams we have if we are weak in any area. Which brings us to having you here today.”

Your eyes dart to the other men standing in the line, but it’s impossible to read their expressions.

“We are looking for four women to reside in our home. Your duties will be cooking and cleaning for the household, and pleasing the members you are assigned to.”

You can only blink as you stare at him. Assigned to? And did he say please the members? Does he mean fuck?

“We believe that with these essential needs met,” he continues without missing a beat. As if he hasn’t just uttered something completely scandalous. “Our members will be free to flourish and earn our spots next to our SKZ predecessors.”

He stops for a moment and steps forward from the others.

“I know how this sounds. Misogynistic. Throughout the many years of this tradition, it has proved to work in our Stays’ favor as well, though. You’ll have your needs met, less stress and many Stays have reported a boost in their overall happiness and confidence.” He says. “We know you are students, too, and we don’t want to impede on your education or your own personal goals. That being said, it’s not a position suitable for everyone, we know that. We also know, that should you choose to participate, you will have an invaluable sense of community throughout your time here. You will have free room and board, and be allowed time to focus on your own success. Any resources we have access to can be yours as well.”

He claps his hands together.

“Now that you know what this entails, please remain seated if you’re still interested. If not, kindly exit—but we would like to remind you of the NDA you signed.”

He pauses for a beat. Two girls stand and promptly exits the home. You stay rooted in your seat. You’re a decent cook. You can clean. You think you could be a good fit for the position. You’ve also been with the same guy since your freshman year, so the prospect of experiencing something new in any capacity intrigues you. And honestly, right now, a free bed sounds more tantalizing than the floor, doesn’t it? You subconsciously roll out the kink in your neck at the thought.

“Eight of you still here,” he says with a nod. “We’ll call each of you up, you’ll introduce yourself, walk past each member, then take your seat. We will then leave to deliberate. When we come back, we’ll let you know which of you are staying and who you’re assigned to.”

You shift around in your seat and nod your head. Chan steps back in line and calls the first name. You watch as each girl walks in front of the men, wondering what’s going through their head—what are they looking for exactly?

When you hear your name called, your heart begins to race. You stand and announce your name, your major, and year in school. You then walk towards Jeongin and slowly make your way to Chan. It’s quick, but not painless. It’s fucking nerve-racking as they each stand there, stone faced.

When all the girls are seated on the couch again, the men exit the room. You’re all quiet as you wait for them to come back. It takes nearly half an hour.

Chan announces the names. The first girl called is assigned to Jeongin and Han. The second is assigned to Felix and Lee Know. The third goes to Seungmin and Changbin.

There are five of you left on the couch. You begin to feel nervous that you may not be chosen, but the next name that falls from Chan’s lips is yours.

Your try your best to hide your surprise as you stand and step forward, hearing that you’re with Chan and Hyunjin.

“Thank you, ladies, for coming today. If you haven’t graduated next year, we welcome you to come back again.” Chan says to the others on the couch before showing them to the door.

When he returns, the eight of them shift around to stand in front of their assignee.

In front of you is Chan. You can’t help but notice the way the sleeves fit tightly around his biceps, and the veins protruding from his arms. Hyunjin is standing next to him—he’s taller than Chan, but a little more thin. His overall presence is softer. You try not to stare too much.

“We’ll give you a tour of the place, show you where you’re staying and then you may retrieve your belongings and return by 5:00pm to prepare dinner. You will cook for whoever you’re assigned to, and get to know each other over dinner.” Chan continues to take charge.

You’re then led on a tour of the house. The first floor has the living room, kitchen, and a bathroom. The kitchen has two separate stoves, a huge pantry and a ton of cabinet space. There’s even an island with bar stools along one side of it. They then take you all down to the basement where there’s a pool table, an old keg, a bar, TV, and beer pong table.

On the second floor is four bedrooms. They tell you who resides on each floor, but do not allow you into the rooms unless it’s someone you’re assigned to. Hyunjin is on the second floor.

He opens the door to the room and you peek inside. You see that there’s a Queen sized bed, dresser, and desk covered in art supplies. Next to his bed is a twin sized bed, bare of any sheets. Is that where you’ll sleep? You wonder.

“The bathroom at the end of the hall on the second floor is strictly for you all to use,” Chan announces as you all make your way up to the next floor.

On the third floor, you’re allowed to see Chan’s room. It’s significantly larger than Hyunjin’s, with it’s own bathroom. He also has a queen bed, nightstands, a dresser and desk. However, the twin sized bed is further from his own, against the opposite wall. It, too, is bare of any sheets.

After the tour, everyone breaks off into groups of whomever their paired with. You’re in the kitchen with Hyunjin and Chan standing on either side of you. You exchange numbers with both of them.

“So you’re majoring in Biology?” Hyunjin speaks to you for the first time.

You nod, unable to find your voice. Still somewhat in shock of what the hell is even happening.

“She’s nervous,” Chan says, easily able to read you.

“Don’t be,” Hyunjin says with softened eyes. “It sounds more intimidating than it really is. This is a mutual thing, okay? We help each other.”

“Okay,” you reply quietly.

“Do something simple for dinner tonight,” Hyunjin continues. “Pasta? With shrimp?”

He looks over to Chan who shrugs and nods in response.

“We’re not as demanding as the others—we won’t be expecting full course meals.”

“You got lucky,” Chan adds.

Got lucky? Did you? Or did you just get yourself into an inexplicable situation? They didn’t mention anything about what should happen if you change your mind. Are you even allowed to? Perhaps you should have read through the NDA a little better. First the lease, now this…you’re not the best with contracts, are you?

Chan produces a credit card from his wallet and hands it to you.

“Return with your things by 5:00pm. You can get groceries and bedding with this. Two twin-sized sets.”

You take the card from him and put it in your pocket.

“We’ll see you soon,” Hyunjin says in a sing-songy voice with a smile.

“See you,” you say lightly and try to return the smile.

You’re still feeling awkward about the entire ordeal, but you’re somewhat at ease at how respectful they all seem. You’re not sure if you’ll be forced to do anything you don’t want to…but as you think about how handsome every single man in the house is…will you eventually want to?

After going to get groceries and bedding (two sets), you get your belongings from your friends dorm then take an Uber back to SKZ house.

You’re a little early, but the door is open. You place your personal things to the side and go to the kitchen to start on dinner. You’re thankful they chose an easy meal, but go the extra mile to make the Alfredo sauce from scratch. It’s one of the few recipes you remember by heart from your mother. You season the shrimp and cook it up with butter and garlic.

The other girls start to arrive and space in the kitchen becomes severely limited, even with two stoves for you all to use. You start to wonder if they’ll all have dinner at the same time every day because that may prove to be quite a challenge. You all move around each other easily enough, but you don’t really say much.

When the food is done and plated, you send Hyunjin and Chan a text that dinner is ready.

They come into the kitchen moments later, grab their plates, then lead you down to the basement for the second time today.

It’s definitely not a fancy or romantic environment. Sitting at a beer pong table and seated on fold out chairs, but you’re not uncomfortable. Nervous as shit. But not uncomfortable.

You wait for them to eat first. They both nod appreciatively after taking their fist bite.

“You must have a lot of questions,” Chan says, twirling pasta around his fork.

“Ask us anything,” Hyunjin prompts.

You’re silent for a moment, chewing your food. You have what feels like a million questions, and want to get the most important one out of the way first.

“Am I gonna be fucking you both?”

Hyunjin coughs on the food he’s eating and Chan let’s out a soft chuckle. He hands Hyunjin his glass of water.

“Well…yes,” is Chan’s blatant reply.

You expect him to say more, but he doesn’t.

“Like…at the same time or is there some sort of schedule or…?” You trail off.

Hyunjin, finally recovered from his coughing fit replies, “It’s really up to the three of us to decide specifics. You’ll be in either of our rooms, on a rotating schedule. We could do every three nights. Monday-Wednesday and Thursday-Saturday? Sunday will be your choice.”

You nod slowly, more in understanding than agreement at this particular moment.

“This tradition works best when it operates like a well oiled machine,” Chan says. “Always be honest with us. Let us know if you aren’t feeling well, if you have your period—anything.”

“There’s actually an app we can all access if you’re uncomfortable telling us, we can use that.” Hyunjin adds.

“And when it comes to cooking and cleaning, you and the other girls can work out whatever kind of schedule works best for all of you.” Chan continues.

The absurdity of the arrangement starts to feel less worrisome as they talk. The situation itself is still quite insane, but they speak about it so casually that it seems normal.

They allow you to pester them with questions as you finish up the meal. They’re all business majors, Hyunjin’s minor is Art and Chan’s is music. They’re all legacies at Sigma Kappa Zeta—meaning their fathers, and grandfathers for some, had been members too. They have all been on a certain career track since they were born to father’s that are successful business owners in Korea and Australia. They each came to the states in high school, studied at a prestigious boarding school and now here they all are, in college, together.

You can’t fathom having your entire life planned out that way. Perhaps it would take out some of the things you stress about regarding your future, though. Clearly, their parents all want what’s best for them.

They explain a few other rules like—you’re not allowed to date or have sex with anyone outside of the members, and that’s a rule everyone in the house follows. Failure to adhere will result in immediate removal from the home.

After you’ve asked all your questions, you all head back up stairs. The others are scattered throughout the house, some at the dining room table, some in the living room. Through the sliding glass door leading to the backyard, you see a few of them out there too.

“We’ll handle the dishes for tonight,” Hyunjin tells you, taking the plate and glass from your hands.

“Take your things upstairs, make up your bed in each of our rooms. There’s some closet and drawer space in each for you.” Chan says.

“Where am I sleeping tonight?” You ask.

“It's Sunday. Your choice,” replies Hyunjin. “Don’t make a big deal out of it. It’s really just where you’ll sleep. It’s not like you won’t be able to interact with the other person or anyone else in the house based on where you sleep, okay?”

You nod.

They take off towards the kitchen. You retrieve your belongings and head up stairs. In Hyunjin’s room you make the bed with the dark blue bedding set—it’s adorned with different flower types and feels fitting. You recalled seeing the flowers he was painting on his desk when you made this choice. You’re not sure how to divide up your clothing but decide to place a bit of everything in both rooms.

When you make it up to Chan’s room, you put away the rest of your clothes then make up the bed here too. The set you chose for his room is black with teal and purple nebula on it. He has LED lights lining all four walls, near the ceiling. You thought it might look nice when they’re turned on.

After making the bed, you sit down and allow yourself a break to think.

You now have to decide whose room you’ll be sleeping in tonight.

[ read chapter two here ]

a/n: yeah, this was a random idea that i'm just gonna roll with. no idea where its gonna go yet, but this will be fun to write. have to set the scene with this first chapter, the smut is coming, don't worry :)

#stray kids #stray kids fanfic #stray kids fanfiction #skz fanfic #straykids #bang chan #bang chan imagines #hyunjin #hyunjin fanfic #bangchan fanfic #skz #skz x reader #skz x you #bangchan x you #hyunjin x you #hyunjin imagines #bangchan imagines #bangchan x reader #hyunjin x reader

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greynatomy · 1 year ago

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take me or leave me

leah williamson x reader

obsessed with this song. my musical era is back.

anyone here watched rent? if you want a visual of how reader kinda acts while performing, click this link.

masterpost

———

You met Leah when she attended an awards show two years ago. You’d sat at the same table and got to talking. She asked for your number and the two of you would be texting and calling all the time.

Eventually, she asked you on a date, taking you to dinner at a secluded section in the restaurant. That night was a night that you could never forget. She let you talk about your career and passions while you did the same for her.

You were from two different worlds, being well known in your own ways, but understand each other, for the most part.

Two years in, and your relationship still strong. You did have some arguments here and there, that’s normal, but what you learned over the years was how jealous she could get. It was amazing to have someone love you so much that they don’t want anyone coming in between that, but sometimes her jealousy becomes too much, like today.

You invited her and some of her friends to a night out with some of your friends. Your two worlds colliding once more.

Being in a relationship with you, she knew how many people ‘desired’ you. You’ve been a public figure since you were a teen. You’ve had costars who’ve tried to date you, others who openly flirt with you and always reassure Leah that she’s the only one you want. She knows that. Doesn’t mean she has to like the way men and women throw themselves at you.

Today was another one of those days, except this time her jealousy seemed to have amplified. Your friends traveled all the way to London to visit you, Leah inviting some of her Arsenal teammates, meeting at a little karaoke club.

Just an hour of being here, Leah’s mood sours. She keeps seeing people coming up to you, some were fans and some who ‘wanted to get to know you’ and not in a friendly matter. It came to a point where she started to ignore you, staying by her friends.

You’ve had enough of it, so you thought of a way to grab her attention. You grabbed your friend Alex and walked up to the person in charge of the karaoke performances. Leaning down to his ear, you whisper your song choice, he gives you a smile and a thumbs up.

“Alright, alright!” He announces on the microphone getting everyone’s attention. “We’ve got some broadway royalty with us today! Here to perform a classic from hit musical Rent, Y/N Y/LN and Alexis Thomas.

That got Leah’s attention. She directs her eyes towards the stage where you and Alex stood, microphones in hand. Leah or her friends didn’t know this musical, none of them have ever been into broadway musicals so they didn’t know what to expect. You knew this would get her more jealous, but this is what she gets for ignoring you.

Every single day I walk down the street I hear people say "Baby" so sweet

Ever since puberty Everybody stares at me Boys, girls I can't help it, baby

You look to where Leah sat, shrugging your shoulders.

So be kind And don't lose your mind Just remember That I'm your baby

You point a finger towards her.

Take me for what I am Who I was meant to be And if you give a damn Take me baby or leave me Take me baby or leave me

You take your coat off, revealing an outfit that shows more skin than Leah would like. You walk over to where she sat, draping the coat over her shoulders.

A tiger in a cage Can never see the sun This diva needs her stage Baby, let's have fun!

You walk around to your girlfriend, pulling her chair back and sit sideways in her lap, arm draped over her shoulder.

You are the one I choose Folks would kill to fill your shoes You love the limelight too now, baby

You take the strap of your top, slowly dropping it from your shoulder, teasing her.

So be mine But don't waste my time Cryin', "Oh honeybear Are you still my, my, my baby?"

Leah’s arms wrap around your waist, pulling you closer.

Take me for what I am Who I was meant to be And if you give a damn Take me baby or leave me

You turn in her lap, now straddling her, the hand not holding the microphone grabs the back of her neck, yanking her face to yours, nose barely grazing.

No way, can I be what I'm not But hey, don't you want your girl hot? Don't fight, don't lose your head 'Cause every night, who's in your bed?

She tries to hold onto you as you climb out of her lap. You place a hand on her chest, pushing her back and give her a flying kiss, walking back to the stage.

Who, who's in your bed? Kiss, pookie

Alex starts her part. You’ve both sang this song together so many times that the routine is muscle memory.

It won't work, I look before I leap I love margins and discipline I make lists in my sleep Baby, what's my sin?

Never quit, I follow through I hate mess, but I love you What to do with my impromptu baby?

She starts stalking towards you as you back up, running a finger up your arm. She grabs at your face softly, bringing your face close to hers.

So be wise 'Cause this girl satisfies You've got a prize, so don't compromise You're one lucky baby

Leah squirms in her seat, not liking how you and your friend are touchy, steam practically blowing out of her ears. Her friends start to tease her, jealousy easily seen in her face.

As the songs finishes, Leah is quick off her seat, rushing towards you. She grabs your wrist, pulling you towards what you assume the restroom. You turn your head towards your friends and Leah’s teammates, giving them a wink.

Shutting the bathroom door, she pushes you against it, leaning down so you’re face to face.

“What was that?”

“What was what?” You ask innocently.

“That’s little show you did there?”

“Oh, that.” You extend the ‘a’. “That’s just a little something me and Alex love to perform.”

“Was all the touching really necessary?”

“Yes.”

She looked at you shocked. “What d’you mean ‘yes.’”

“The only way I thought to get your attention after ignoring me all night.”

“People were all over you!”

“And what did the song say? Something like ‘Take me baby or leave me.’”

You give her a quick, but passionate kiss, pushing her away. Making sure to fix yourself it the mirror, you give her a wink, leaving a stunned Leah in the restroom.

#woso x reader #greynatomy #woso #woso imagines #woso imagine #leah williamson #leah williamson x reader #engwnt #engwnt x reader #rent

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seravphs · 2 years ago

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beating hearts promised to bared teeth — part one: “The God Finds A Familiar”

KITSUNE! GOJO x GOD! FEM READER; KAMISAMA HAJIMEMASHITA AU

When a kind stranger offers you his home because your gambling addict of a father can’t pay rent, you’re left in charge of a shrine - with a catch. Once you arrive at your new home, you learn a crucial fact that he conveniently left out. You’re the new god in charge, and his familiar, who now belongs to you, does not like you. What’s a new god to do, especially when she finds herself slowly falling for the fox spirit?

wc — 10k

tags — enemies to lovers, shoujo manga heroine type reader, Japanese mythology/yokai, age gap (1000 year old fox and high school girl), slowburn, cameo from Sukuna, Toji, and Nanami, cameo from original Kamisama Hajimemashita cast

part two — “The God Finds A Husband” (coming soon)

shoujo series masterlist

If your stomach growls any louder, you’ll scare off the squirrels fighting over the end of a baguette loaf by the park bench you’re sitting on.

You’re currently in the middle of what others might describe as very hard times. To be honest, your very hard times have been going on for a while now - they just culminated at this specific moment. Regardless, these days are only temporary. You’ve promised yourself that one day, you’ll be able to smile from the bottom of your heart.

It’s just that it was easier said than done when you weren’t homeless. Your father has never been the most reliable of men. You had to take over the household finances by the time you were eight, so you’ve always been accustomed to his lack of responsibility, but today really solidified his status in your mind as an absolutely useless, no good man. It’s unfathomable cruelty to have left his only daughter with no money, no relatives, and no home.

You don’t want to call it cruel. For all of his faults, you still love your father. And it’s because you love him that you know this wasn’t a cruel act. Cruelty is intentional. It’s malicious. It comes from a desire to hurt. Your father has never wanted to hurt you. It’s just a byproduct of his gambling addiction. You’re collateral damage in his quest for the jackpot that would solve all his problems.

You double over in agony at the renewed complaints from your stomach. At least you’ve gone from scaring mere squirrels to scaring passersby. That’s an upgrade, right?

One woman clutches her purse closer as she walks past you as briskly as possible. You get it, you look bad.

But there’s no use being resentful. Your father has been barely one step above a deadbeat all your life. At the very least, you’re used to fending for yourself. Your stomach growls again, but you’re determined to ignore it. You need a plan of action. One step after another, you’ll make it out of these troublesome times.

Before you can start to plot, a loud cry for help catches your attention. It sounds like someone else is in even more dire straits than you are, which is saying a lot.

The squirrels have long since scattered, run off not by the scary noises coming from your famished stomach, but a pack of dogs. Somehow, a man has climbed several feet into the tree next to the trash can, and now perched precariously in its branches. Below him, curious dogs tilt their heads and give cautious barks.

“Aw, hello there, cuties,” you coo, rubbing behind their ears. They yip at you enthusiastically. One sets to chasing his own tail around the tree. They seem friendly enough, but you suppose one can’t help their phobias. A little regretfully, you chase them off.

“Go on now,” you tell the last one, leading him away. He whines, but does as you say. What a good boy.

“Thank you,” says the stranger stranded in the tree. He slides down the trunk, face slowly regaining color. “I owe you my life.”

“It was nothing!” You smile, but he won’t let you brush off your good deed.

“You’re a good kid,” he nods approvingly. “Gotta reward that. Is there anything you want?”

A home.

Not just the house you shared with your father, but somewhere warm to return to. A person who waits to see you safely inside the threshold.

But you know a stranger can’t give you that, so you shake your head and smile. “Really, it was nothing. You don’t owe me anything.”

As if he had heard your inner monologue, the stranger raises an eyebrow. “A home, hm? I might be able to help with that.”

Before you can react, he leans in and kisses your forehead. Where his lips touched your skin feels faintly warm and tingly, almost like the sensation of your leg going numb, before you recoil from him in shock.

He presses a map into your hand and tells you, “Go to this address. Tell them Yaga sent you, and you’ll be welcomed with open arms.”

With that, he runs off.

What a strange man.

Well, you’ve had a strange life, taking care of your hopeless father and all. Perhaps these things really did happen. It wasn’t so impossible for strangers to appear out of nowhere and reward you for good deeds. Maybe all the fairytales your father had read to you back when he hadn’t been so terrible were true.

Or maybe that was the wishful thinking of an optimistically delusional girl who needed somewhere to stay desperately.

The address is located on the outskirts of town. Pushing deeper into foliage and closer to forest than civilization, you find the location you had been sent to.

It’s a shrine.

A run-down shrine, of all places.

Are you on a comedy show? Should you start checking for cameras?

Against your will, you feel your eyes grow hot. That was a cruel trick to play. He had gotten your hopes up for nothing.

It’s not just your eyes. Your entire body starts to feel warm. The world around you erupts into blue flame. Heat licks at your shins as you scramble towards safety, closer to the center of the circle that has formed around you.

When the flames suddenly leap, as if they’ll consume the entire sky, you scream and drop to your knees, covering your head like it’s a bomb threat. Two childish voices ring in your head, as clear and crisp as bells.

Welcome home, Yaga-sama.

It’s a shrine. There’s only one logical conclusion.

This is a haunting.

There’s only one safe path out of the ring of fire, and it’s towards the building you’ve now concluded is the site of paranormal activity. Between being actively burned alive or facing spirits though, you know which one you’ll choose.

Your frantic fingers fumble over the latch on the shrine’s red doors as the fire inches closer and closer until you can feel its heat on your back. Finally, you throw open the doors and all but launch yourself inside. The heat recedes, but the voices do not.

“Back already, Yaga?” A male voice drawls. “I thought your pilgrimage would’ve taken longer. After leaving me to maintain the shrine by myself for sixty years -“

You shriek as an enormous, clawed hand comes down towards your face. Your eyes squeeze shut, waiting for the end.

“I’m not Yaga,” you wail, hoping it will save you.

“You have a lot of nerve?” The voice finishes, more uncertainly than before. When you deem it safe to open your eyes once more, what stands before is a young man dressed in all white. White hair and blue eyes make for a staring constraint, but his coloring isn’t what’s strange about him.

It’s his clawed hands and the equally white fox tail behind him.

“Megumi, Tsumiki,” he says authoritatively. “This isn’t Yaga.”

A shining ball of fire comes forward, speaking in the little girl’s voice you heard earlier. “That can’t be right! Look, she has the mark of the god on her forehead.”

You touch your forehead, remembering the warm tingly sensation you had felt when that man kissed you. Feeling slightly delirious, you start to laugh, only to grow alarmed when you find you can’t stop. You’re growing out of breath from your near hysterical laughing, tears streaming out of the corners of your eyes.

“Oh, great,” says the fox spirit. “She’s crazy.”

“She’s the one with the mark,” the other ball of fire, Megumi, says. “That means she’s the god whether you like it or not, Gojo.”

Tsumiki darts over to you, but halfway through her journey, she goes from fire to a little child just under 2 feet tall. She’s wearing a mask and plain blue yukata.

“We have to celebrate!” She claps her hands together in excitement. “Our god has finally returned!”

Gojo looks dismissively down on you. Your laughing fit is finally starting to die down, but he doesn’t seem impressed regardless. “What god? I won’t accept a little human girl as my master. She couldn’t handle the strength of a familiar like me.”

His condescension only makes you giggle harder. You can’t help it. Something about the fluffy fox ears protruding out of his head makes it hard to take him seriously.

“What strength?” You laugh in his face. “This shrine is so dilapidated, I doubt you’re anything special.”

Gojo looks away. “If she stays, I’m leaving. I won’t serve this kind of pathetic god.”

He disappears in a cloud of white smoke before Tsumiki can finish saying, “Don’t be like that!”

The will-o-wisp children introduce themselves to you as shrine spirits who look after the building. It takes a while, but by the time they kindly show you to the room where you’ll be staying, you can distinguish Tsumiki from Megumi by the differences in the masks they never take off.

Your room is simple and threadbare. The walls are paneled bamboo and the only furnishing is an old futon. Still, you’re grateful. It’s leagues better than sleeping in the woods, which is what you started this day fearing you would have to resort to. You’ve never been the type to complain, and you won’t start now, no matter how strange your life has gotten.

Fox spirits and will-o-wisp children don’t exist. They’re the stuff of myths. Maybe you’re just seeing things because you’re tired, you muse as you drift off to sleep. You’ll feel better in the morning after a nice, long rest. The events of today will feel so far away, and you’ll be able to start over.

Or maybe you’re dead already, and you’re wandering in the Netherworld. Perhaps the reason you can see spirits is because you’re currently residing in their land. Your entire body seizes up as you jolt yourself back to wakefulness.

“Kamisama,” Tsumiki has crept back into your room. “Are you alright?”

You tell her to call you by her name. Calling you god just doesn’t feel right.

Gently, she nestles down by your pillow and puts her cold little hands on your forehead. Rather than shocking to your senses, it feels pleasant. When you were a little girl and got sick, your father used to let you stay home from school. He’d pack a towel with ice cubes and place it on your overheated forehead, staying up with you all night just to chat. It’s a good memory.

“It’ll be alright,” Tsumiki tells you in her gentle voice. “You’ll see.”

For spirits that supposedly take care of the shrine, you have a suspicion that Tsumiki and Megumi are pushing their work onto you when they brief you on your chores the next morning. It turns out godhood is a lot less summoning storms and a lot more doing yard work.

Tsumiki insists that keeping the shrine pure is important for keeping evil spirits away. For some reason, that means cleaning. When you ask about calling lightning or summoning lions, Megumi laughs at you.

“That’s Getou-sama’s job,” he says. “Your specialty is marriage. Yaga was very good at tying peoples’ fates together. You will be, too.”

He has more faith than you do in that regard. When it comes to chores, however, you’re more certain of your abilities. Busy work keeps the absurdity of your situation from sinking in, and you’re good at running the household from years of dealing with your father. You’re grateful for something to do. If you think about the past day too hard, you might break down into shocked laughter and never get back up.

Besides, even if you don’t feel particularly ready to be a god, Tsumiki and Megumi are letting you stay in the shrine. You have to earn your keep. Soon, you settle into the process of cleaning, letting the methodical, rhythmic nature of your movements erase any doubts in your mind. You think of nothing but the cooling sensation of the water when you dip your rag into the bucket and the clean, woody scent of the shrine as you scrub the wood.

“Ooh,” Tsumiki says approvingly when she appears. “It looks better already! Can you do the lawn next?”

Plucking weeds is notably less soothing than cleaning. With no gloves, you’re careful to avoid hurting yourself as you tug on spiky vines and knotted twigs, but it’s no use. Eventually, you lose focus and a sharp sting graces your finger. Blood drips down your hand. You hiss in pain.

A hand with white claws instead of nails grabs your wrist. You yelp in shock as Gojo brings your finger to his mouth and laps at the blood. It stains his lips slightly red. He worries at the cut with his tongue, making your wound ache. You try to pull back, but he holds on.

To your amazement, the cut closes before your eyes. You’re just about to thank him when he ruins the moment.

“You really are useless,” he says. “You can’t even pluck grass?”

You yank your hand out of his grip as hard as you can, sending yourself tumbling back against the grass. You hate how it must make yourself seem even more human in his eyes, a weak, fragile thing.

“Give up,” he says, and it’s almost gentle, the way his claws graze your chin as he holds your face in one hand. “You’re not suited to be a god.”

You turn away, unwilling to let him see any more of your vulnerability. “You don’t know anything about me.”

“Suit yourself,” he says with a noise of annoyance. “Brats who run away from home aren’t my problem.”

“I didn’t run away!” You snap, whirling on him. “My dad was the one who ran! I don’t have anywhere else to go!”

But he’s gone.

At least Megumi and Tsumiki are nice to you. Megumi takes the bucket of weeds you deposit at the front door and whisks it somewhere out of your sight, while Tsumiki prepares a nice, hot bath for you. Exhausted, you collapse onto the bamboo floor spread eagle.

God, a voice murmurs in your head.

Not again. You don’t want any more spirits to deal with. When you raise your head, instead of another yokai, there’s an old woman standing in front of the shrine. Her head is bowed and her hands are clasped in prayer.

Please bless my daughter’s marriage so that she will enjoy a long and fruitful life with her partner.

Her voice is coming from some place inside your head. It resonates like a bell, ringing crisp and clear. You stretch out your hands wonderingly. You don’t look any different.

“You see?” Tsumiki says approvingly. “You’re a god.”’

But you don’t feel like one. You feel just like a normal person.

“A god needs a familiar.” You can’t see Megumi’s face behind his mask as he speaks, but you can imagine the solemn little boy he must be. “You need to bind Gojo to you.”

“How do I do that?”

“You have to kiss him.”

You wait for them to tell you they’re joking.

“What? I can’t kiss him! Is there-”

Megumi cuts in. “It’s just the traditional way to seal the contract. Don’t think too much of it.”

The fact that neither of them are bothered makes you feel like the ridiculous one for being off put by this, but you’re sure you’re not. Still, if you’re a god now, you have to put all of your mortal sensibilities aside. It’s like another culture, you tell yourself. Like how Europeans kiss each other on the cheek to say hello. Even if you can’t convince yourself, Megumi and Tsumiki are insistent.

You were so fired up just a second ago, but now your head is filled with doubts. If such a simple matter can sway you, are you really meant to be a god after all? Maybe Gojo is right. Maybe you should just leave.

“Please,” Tsumiki says. She looks distraught. “Don’t abandon us. Please don’t leave.”

Megumi doesn’t say anything, but his silence is enough.

“Okay,” you say, feeling defeated. “I’ll give it a shot.”

You’ve always been good at chores. If taming Gojo is just another part of your new job, it sounds like it's time to get serious.

“Take me to him.”

Megumi and Tsumiki balk.

“Right now?”

“Why not? The sooner I get it over with, the better, right?”

“He’s...indisposed at the moment,” Tsumiki says carefully.

“Indisposed? Is he sick?”

“Not quite,” Megumi says. He’s very expressive for a spirit. You can practically imagine him grimacing.

“Then it’s fine!”

You would soon come to regret your words.

Megumi and Tsumiki lead you out of the shrine. They show you where to find the path that can lead you to the land of spirits and demons. Your entire body rebels at the feeling of being in this other world, but at the same time, you feel at home here. The god and the girl that coexist inside of you are mutually repelled by and attracted to this place.

Even though you know Megumi and Tsumiki aren’t really children, or at least children in the way mortals think of them, you’re still concerned about letting them traipse around this dangerous place. However, they seem more used to this world than you are. That energy is better devoted to fending for yourself.

They lead you under bridges where the running water smells like flowers and women’s voices hiss in the babble of the current. Tree leaves rustle with hands that disappear into darkness. You follow them through dark alleyways lined with red paper blessings, and doorsteps encircled with salt. Eyes follow you, leaving your skin crawling.

You’re so focused on keeping your head down and staying out of danger that you almost don’t notice when they stop. You nearly run Megumi over.

“He’s inside here,” Tsumiki says.

Is it just you, or does she seem nervous?

The lanterns inside this establishment are turned down to a dimness that barely illuminates the corridors. Sweet smelling smoke writhes around your feet from some unknown source as you head deeper and deeper into the maze of hallways, following the pair of shrine spirits. You pass women wearing fox masks, dressed in luxurious kimonos. Their hair towers over their head in elaborate updos, held in place with beautiful pins inlaid with chartreuse and gold.

Megumi stops before a folding screen door. Like all things within this building, it’s beautiful. The silk screen is painted with images of flowers and more gruesome scenes as well, but somehow, it’s still breath-taking. A little like Gojo, in that regard.

You hear the voices of women behind the screen, flattering Gojo. The light of a single candle illuminates the dim room, imprinting his silhouette against it, as well as that of the two women with him. They’re draped over him, hands roaming his body as they purr their compliments. Your face burns with embarrassment.

“What are you doing?” Megumi demands of Gojo. “How can you parade around the red-light district like this? You’re the familiar of a god, not some common demon! If Yaga knew, it’d break his poor heart.”

Behind the screen, Gojo merely brushes him off. “Yaga’s been replaced by some little human worm. Why should I care what he thinks now?”

“What about the shrine? Don’t you care about that, at least?” Tsumiki's voice is thick with reproach.

“Now that you mention it, I don’t think I do,” he says. “Ha! You know what? Maybe I should thank that girl. Now that I’m free, I can do whatever I want.”

“Gojo-“

“I’ll can indulge in every little vice Yaga never allowed me to touch before. Who would want to be a familiar when I can have all of this?”

“Gojo, our god is here.”

“What?”

He leaps up and pushes the screen aside, coming face to face with you. He looks startled to see you, though you don’t see why he should care, since he so desires to lead a life of sin.

You look upon him with disgust. You might want a familiar, but you’re not so desperate you’d stoop as low as this. Gojo cares so little for anyone but himself. If you’re going to be a god, you’re going to do it right. You’ll pick a good familiar, one who will genuinely love the shrine as much as it deserves.

You turn and leave as he, half-clothed, frantically starts pulling on the outer layers of his kimono.

“Wait,” he calls after you. “Tsumiki! Megumi! Why would you bring her here?”

“She wanted to see you,” Megumi retorts.

“This isn’t the place for a human,” he says. “She’s going to get eaten!”

The faster Gojo follows you, the faster you run from him. By the time you’re out of what you’ve come to realize is a brothel, you’re sprinting. Your legs carry you right into someone else as your face slams against a broad, muscled chest.

“Oh,” says a voice above your head. “How pretty.”

A hand caresses your face. This spirit has tattoo marks across his face and body. More interestingly, he has multiple arms.

You’re frozen in place by fear as he brings his mouth closer and closer to your face. He’s close enough to kiss, but this is a spirit, which means he’s more likely to eat you.

“Be good for me now,” he purrs in your ear. “Fear makes flesh all the sweeter.”

Three of his six arms are consumed by fire. He pushes you away from him in favor of batting out the flame.

Gojo pulls you towards him, hiding you in the folds of his billowing kimono. You press your face against his shoulder, swallowing back the tears of fear from nearly being eaten. Somehow, he feels safe, even though he’s been nothing but antagonistic towards you. He feels almost protective as he shields your body with his, securing you under one arm.

“Scram,” he tells the other demon. “She’s mine, Sukuna.”

Sukuna rolls his pairs of eyes. “You weren’t with her when I caught her. She’s fair game.”

Fox fire flickers in Gojo’s hand. His white talons seem to elongate before your eyes.

“If you want to fight over her, then by all means,” he says with a dangerous smile. “But we both know I’d win.”

“Maybe later then,” Sukuna says, lazily as if Gojo isn’t threatening him. “Once I’ve eaten my fill.”

He stalks off into the night in search of more prey.

“This is why I told you to wait,” Gojo says, running his hand over his face. “You’re practically bait in this world. Come on, I’ll take you home.”

You nod, not trusting your voice, but he catches on anyways.

“Don’t cry,” he says, his face twisted in a grimace. “I won’t know what to do if you cry. Look, this is just your life now, okay? You’ll have to get used to it.”

On impulse, you press your face into his shoulder again, still sniffling. You want to be comforted, even though you know he won’t give it to you.

“Ugh,” he says, true to form. “Quit that.”

By the time you’ve calmed down, Gojo has already escorted you back to the shrine.

“Don’t come back,” he tells you.

Of course, you can’t listen to him. On your second night in the land of the dead and monsters, not only do you have to hide from beasts who would devour you the moment they found out what you were, you also have to hide from Gojo. You’re wearing a disguise, courtesy of Tsumiki and Megumi.

In your defense, it’s not like you want to be here. You need a familiar, and it’s clearly not going to be Gojo.

According to Tsumiki, Gojo’s the strongest, but there are other familiars who would be willing to serve you. They’re all in the Netherworld, however, and you have to find them before you can contract them.

You pull the curtain of the hat shielding your face a little closer around you as you peer at the faces surrounding you, trying to gauge who looks friendly. None of them do. You’ve been wandering around for hours, but not a single spirit has stood out to you.

In the end, you don’t find him. He finds you.

“A human god?” A hand grasps your wrist loosely. “That’s rare. Don’t you know it’s dangerous to be here?”

The man in front of you looks normal by any standards - but you know better than to trust your gut in the netherworld. Still, he’s the closest thing to a human you’ve seen in a while. Surrounded by a maelstrom of monsters, he feels like the eye of the storm. There’s a quiet and a calm surrounding him, even as you walk among noderabo with withered, leathery skin and scaly yajo.

It’s not like he’s in his own little pocket of the world, you realize. He is. Everyone is purposefully giving him a wide berth.

“Who are you?”

“I asked first,” he says.

“You know who I am! You just said so - I’m the human god.”

His eyes rake over you. “So you are. But what are you doing here, girl?”

You throw his words back in his face obstinately. “You first.”

“I’m Toji.” That doesn’t tell you anything, but he’s clearly unwilling to divulge more. “Your turn.”

“I’m looking for a familiar.”

“What about your familiar? I heard that Gojo-sama isn’t keen on sharing.”

Somehow, the way he says Gojo-sama sounds derisive, even with the respectful honorific.

“He doesn’t want to be my familiar.”

The rejection stings coming out of your own mouth.

“Sounds like him. Haughty bastard, he couldn’t stand to serve a human girl, could he?”

“Yeah! He’s an asshole,” you say, feeling validated.

When Toji laughs, the scar over his lip tugs one side of his mouth down. You kind of like it. And he must be strong, just looking at him. He’s well muscled and covered in scars. Of course, there’s the little matter of the reverence everyone around you is offering him. Tsumiki and Megumi had told you to just go out and find one. Could it be that easy?

“Are you interested?”

He gives you a look of barely concealed amusement. “You’re funny, girl. I don’t think Gojo would like that very much, though.”

“I don’t care what Gojo thinks.”

“Oh, here he comes now. Don’t go running too far - you’ll worry him,” he says, slow and easy. His confidence is absurd - it reminds you of Gojo, actually. He must be strong. “If you’re really serious about wanting me as a familiar, why don’t you meet me here again in three days?”

“What are you doing?” Gojo snarls at you. His teeth match the rest of his fox physique. With wonder, you realize that his pearly canines are pointed beyond what’s normal. “I told you not to come back!”

“But- He-” You turn around to point Toji out, but he’s gone.

“Who?” Gojo says.

“He was right there!”

“You’re so annoying,” Gojo bites out. “I don’t care what happens to you, but if you die, Megumi and Tsumiki will cry, so stop wandering off on your own. You’re lucky you didn’t get devoured on the spot.”

He’s starting to get really irritating. You shove his hands off.

“You know it’s actually your fault I’m here, right? If you didn’t reject me, I wouldn’t have to scour the Netherworld for a familiar.”

Gojo scoffs. “My fault? Maybe you should take a look at yourself. If you were less weak, I wouldn’t have a problem serving you!”

“That’s- You’re impossible!” You splutter. “I can’t help being weak! I was born this way! Not everyone is so lucky to be born a kitsune, oh-so-great-Gojo-sama.”

“Enough,” he sighs. Taking you by your wrist, he forcibly drags you through the streets back in the direction you came.

“Ow! You’re hurting me!”

“Gojo!” Megumi’s reproving voice breaks the argument up before it can begin again.

He lets go of you almost guiltily, if you thought he could feel guilt.

“I’ll take her home,” Megumi says.

Gojo’s tail lashes behind him angrily, but Megumi doesn’t spare him a second glance as he ushers you away.

“Thank you,” you tell him in relief. “What are you doing here?”

“You were taking a long time,” he says. “Tsumiki and I were getting worried. Did you find anyone?”

You think of Toji. “No,” you say. “No one.”

The next day, while Megumi and Tsumiki dress you for your trip through the Netherworld again, Megumi presses three slips of white paper into your hands.

“We should’ve taught you this sooner,” he says. “One of the powers of a god is to transform objects. Whatever you write on this charm will become true - within the scope of your power. Be safe.”

Armed with your paper slips, you feel like a real god. Tsumiki pushes you out the door with a prayer for good luck, though you’re not sure you can grant prayers to yourself for yourself.

Outside the door, something whines by your feet.

“Gojo?”

Or is that a regular white fox?

It snaps its teeth at you.

Definitely Gojo.

“I don’t need an escort,” you tell him, making shooing motions at him with your hands. “Go away!”

He rolls over and yips at you, his tail wagging.

“I can’t understand you like this!”

“I said,” a cloud of smoke reveals him, mostly humanoid once again, except for his ears and tail. “I don’t want to do this either. It’s for Megumi and Tsumiki.”

Toji doesn’t seem to like him, so you don’t want to risk bringing him with you. Despite your best attempts to shake him, Gojo follows you as you retrace your steps back into the spirit world. You’re just starting to despair when you spot a bigger reason to be upset.

“Hello, delicious,” Sukuna says. “Ready for round two?”

Why does he look even more terrifying? Did he get bigger?

“Leave her alone,” Gojo says, almost bored. “It’s pathetic. You can only bully things weaker than you, huh?”

“I’m not afraid to fight you,” Sukuna tells him.

You’re panicking. They both look serious. You don’t want to be caught between these two forces of nature.

“You should be,” Gojo says, and steps in front of you. Over his shoulder, he tells you, “Run. You’re in my way.”

This is the chance you were waiting for.

Toji’s dressed differently when you find him again. Last night, he was wearing a casual black kimono. Tonight, he’s dressed in a tight fitting black shirt and loose white pants.

“You look nice,” you tell him, feeling anxious. Your mind keeps going back to Gojo. You’re sure he can hold his own, but you’re still worried for him. As you are, however, you’re of no help to him. The only way you’d be able to rescue him if he actually was in danger is by making a contract with a powerful familiar.

“It’s for work,” he says. “Follow me.”

“We can’t do it here?”

“Do you want to kiss me in front of everyone?” He shrugs and reaches for you. “I mean, I’m down if you are, but I figured-”

“No,” you squeak and dart away. “Privacy is good!”

He laughs. “You’re as funny as ever, huh? C’mere.”

Toji leads you off the beaten path and further into the woods. The only thing that keeps you from feeling more nervous is the moon shining overhead, illuminating your path. It feels almost like a friend is with you.

“Here is good,” Toji says, stopping at a clearing.

“It’s so pretty,” you breathe out, dazzled. This deep into the woods, fireflies are lighting your way. Beneath your feet, a springy bed of flowers and moss covers the floor.

“What can I say? I’m a romantic.”

“Yeah, right,” you laugh at him, but you draw closer. You think you could trust him. You think you could be partners with him.

Then Toji grabs you by the shoulders and dangles you off the edge of the clearing, over a steep drop you hadn’t noticed. The sharp cut off had been hidden by flowers, danger painted over with beauty.

“Sorry, kid,” Toji says. “No hard feelings, right?”

“Why?” You whisper. Gojo had been right.

“There’s a bounty on your head,” he says. “Getou has offered to grant the wish of anyone who kills you.”

His eyes turn wistful. “I have a kid. Haven’t seen him in years. You understand, right? It’s not personal.”

The fall is brutal. The wind whips tears into your eyes, if you weren’t already crying from the fear of falling to your death. You have to do something, anything. Above your head, something white flutters.

A dove?

Then another.

It’s one of the paper ofuda Megumi had given you before you left, caught in the updraft of you rushing down to earth. You snatch it out of the air. You can’t reach the pen in your pocket. With increasing desperation, you bite down on your finger hard enough to draw blood and trace the characters for a tree branch onto it. Holding it aloft, you pray.

Between your hands, wood solidifies. You’re clinging to a scrap of a twig sprouting from the rocky cliffside. Megumi’s words echo in your head - only within the scope of your power.

So this is it, huh?

That’s all there is of your godly strength.

“Looks like you’re in trouble,” Gojo says. He has no problem balancing on the sheer cliff. His appearance is impeccable, completely unscathed from his fight with Sukuna. He perches like a bird, as comfortable as if he were standing on solid ground. “Do you need help?”

Thank god. He’s here to save you! You nod, turning teary eyes on him. You were wrong about him. Gojo really is a good guy, deep down.

“If you say, ‘Please save me, Gojo-sama, I was stupid.’ I’ll help you. Throw in some crying and begging, too.”

Your eyes dry up instantly. He’s a total bastard. You clutch onto the branch tighter. There’s no way you’ll give him the satisfaction of groveling for help.

Your resolve weakens when you hear the first snap.

“Time’s ticking,” Gojo calls in a sing-song voice. “What will it be?”

The harder you hold on, the more your flimsy branch breaks.

“Come on,” Gojo says. “It’s not that hard. It’s just seven little words. Isn’t that worth your life?”

“Go fuck yourself,” you tell him, and the branch finally snaps.

Falling for the second time is just as bad as the first time. The icy wind snatches at you like claws, tearing at your clothes.

To your surprise, Gojo leaps after you. He makes free-fall look elegant - surely a far cry from whatever you’re doing.

“Just say it,” he yells, within arm’s reach. He’s so close he could snag you by the shirt and haul you to safety, but you know he won’t. Not without getting what he wants. “Would you rather die than just apologize?”

You have an answer prepared.

His eyes widen in shock when you press your palms to his cheek, pull him closer, and kiss him.

You barely have time to register the taste of him, sake and something sweet, before the reality of falling to your death rushes in again.

“Gojo, save me!”

As if his body is piloted by someone else, Gojo catches you. For him, it’s a short leap back up to the top of the clearing, where Toji has disappeared.

You climb down from his hold once you’re certain you’re safe. You never thought you’d miss the feeling of solid ground beneath your feet this much, but at the moment, you’re willing to kiss the earth.

Gojo seems much worse off. He’s frozen in shock, muttering the same refrain to himself under his breath. “Me? Bound to her? Impossible.”

“Let’s go home,” you tell him. He doesn’t seem to get it until you tug him towards the path, and then he leads the way wordlessly. .

You wake to Megumi and Tsumiki weeping over you.

“I’m alright!”

They freeze, then burst into fresh tears.

“We thought you would never wake up! Your first time using ofuda must have been too much for you,” Megumi gets out through his sobs.

You feel sore all over. You can barely recall the events of the previous night, only that you kissed-

“Finally up?”

Gojo’s tapping his foot as he waits for you to get up. He looks furious. There’s an unmistakeable tick in his jaw that spells trouble for you.

It’s too early to deal with him. You duck back under the covers.

“Oh no you don’t,” he growls out as he seizes your wrist and bodily hauls you out of your warm cocoon of blankets. “You wanted to be a god, you’re going to be a god. It’s time for some training.”

You shiver pathetically in the cold morning air. If you had known helping a stranger would lead to be harassed by a fox spirit, you would’ve never done it in the first place.

“Try harder,” Gojo says at your sixth failed attempt to turn water into wine.

“It smells alcoholic,” Megumi offers loyally.

“I am trying!” You insist.

“Harder,” Gojo snarls.

The seventh attempt doesn’t change. Gojo throws up his arms and stalks out of the shrine, declaring the need to cool his head. Tsumiki frantically trails him, not trusting him to not attempt to run away again.

Megumi tries to assure you that you’re doing well, but honestly, you need to leave too. The shrine feels too stuffy. A change of scenery will do you good. Sitting alone in the woods just behind the shrine, you try to focus. Slowly, stacks of ofuda disappear from your hands as you paste them to trees, willing them to blossom. Wilt. Do anything, anything at all.

You’re out cold when Gojo finds you.

“Divine power takes time,” he says as he prepares dinner. “Use too many talismans at once and you’ll pass out.”

You drink a spoonful of soup morosely. “How do I get stronger?”

“You’ll get stronger if you grant prayers.”

Tsumiki perks up. “One just came in!”

“I already looked at it,” Gojo says dismissively. “Not that one.”

“Everyone’s wishes deserve to be looked at,” you argue.

Gojo scoffs, “Not this one.”

“Don’t be rude! A god can’t pick and choose.”

He tosses the prayer at you.

Morimoto Rika’s request touches your heart. She’s the spirit of a nearby lake - not just any spirit, as Megumi helpfully clarifies, but another owner of a shrine. A human boy visits her waters nightly. By the light of the moonlight, she fell in love with him, but she can’t meet him because they live in two separate worlds.

And to think that you would’ve never known to help her if Gojo had continued keeping this from you.

“This sounds like the perfect job for me,” you argue.

“Don’t be ridiculous. Yokai can’t fall in love with humans.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “Aren’t you bound to do as I say? Take me to her.”

Against his will, Gojo summons what’s called a ‘night fog coach’. Only operable at night, as the name suggests, it’s a tall black carriage truly made for a god. You’re just wondering how Gojo expects you to climb aboard when he effortlessly lifts you by the waist.

“You’re the one who wanted to go meet her,” he sneers. “Chop-chop.”

Your supplicant looks like a fish if it were a girl. She has pale green skin and large, black eyes, with overly large teeth for her mouth. Black hair frames a heart shaped face. She’s cute, in her own monstrous way. And she’s desperately in love with a human boy.

Gojo helps you transform her into a human body and make her over into a normal teenage girl. For a prayer granted, it feels like nothing more than dressing your friend up for a date.

You’re even as nosy as you would be in that situation. It’s the first prayer you’ve ever granted. You know you shouldn’t, but you and Gojo watch the burgeoning romance from a distance. Of course, he’s completely disapproving, but you have high hopes for them - until Rika pulls out a ring.

Aren’t they moving a little too fast?

It only gets worse when Rika confesses that she’s been stalking him - sort of. Keeping tabs on him for his safety by following him around town is a little too close to the other, for your liking. Your head drops into your hands.

But Yuta takes it surprisingly well. A little too well, in fact. It only seems to infatuate him even more. You knew there were certain types of men out there who loved crazy, but you had never seen it in real life - until now.

Could this even be counted as a success?

You’re happy for Rika and Yuta, as happy as you can be for their twisted little union, but you’re just waiting for Gojo to bite your head off for bringing a (real) monster and a human together as soon as you get back home. At least they’re happy, you think ruefully. Worse things could happen. Your first union as a marriage god didn’t fail. In fact, of all people, Yuta seemed the most likely in the world to accept Rika as she was, human or not.

To your surprise, returning to the shrine, Gojo begrudgingly says, “You did well.”

Any warm feelings you have for him the next day are replaced when he barges into your room and demands you strip.

“You have guests,” he says. “Messengers from Toji-sama, the god of the wind.”

Your eyes grow wide. You hadn’t known Toji was a god. Come to think of it, did Gojo even know the reason why you had been falling from that cliff? You weren’t sure if he had come in time to see who had pushed you.

“What are you worried about? I’ll be at your side the whole time.”

You’ll tell him later. Right now, you have a serious matter to prepare for.

You tried not to discriminate on the basis of his master, but it’s not that at all. Toji’s familiar, Naoya, is simply annoying on his own terms.

“So you’re the new god of this ramshackle little shrine,” he sniffs. “God, it’s disgusting. How poor are you?”

“You must be the thirteenth familiar Toji’s owned. He goes through you like toys, doesn’t he? Of course you wouldn’t know that he used to live in worse conditions before. Deplorable.” Gojo laughs in his face.

Naoya grits his teeth. “I’m surprised your little human dared to show her face. I thought she’d be terrified after what Toji did to her. They’re such weak little things.”

Gojo looks at the other demon with a calm that worries you. As human as he is, there are moments when you can catch the monster lurking within. He’s like the sea, deceptively calm until you remember the threat of an unseen riptide.

“If you insult my master again,” he says carefully, enunciating every word like he’s stabbing at them with a knife, “I will take your head and deliver it to your master as a present.”

“Don’t tell me you’re happy to be serving a mortal girl,” Naoya laughs. “Not someone like you, Satoru. How the mighty have fallen.”

Gojo looks at him for a long moment, then he ignores him completely and walks to your side. The most painful part of Naoya’s digs at you is knowing he’s right. Gojo doesn’t like this. How could he? He went from being the strongest to being commanded by some powerless girl. Still, Gojo gazes at you with his inscrutable eyes. You can’t read him at all.

Slowly, he sinks to his knees next to you.

With a gentleness you can hardly bear, he lays his head in your lap, as gentle and docile as a puppy. His neck is bared as if for an executioner’s axe, the delicate pulse of his heart open to you. He closes his eyes. His breath is shallow. He stays there, and says no more.

“Oh, Satoru,” Naoya says in delight. “You really have become a tamed thing.”

With an uncertainty you’re trying to hide, you lift your hands to Gojo’s head. His hair is sinfully soft. You’re almost scared he’ll try to take your hands off for it, but when you start to gently pet his hair, he almost purrs. His eyes close, half-lidded in pleasure.

“I serve who I want to serve,” Gojo says. His tail lashes behind him. “Who are you to tell me my master is unworthy?”

Naoya shrugs, clearly disbelieving. “Sure, Satoru. Keep telling yourself that. I’m just here to deliver a gift.”

He tosses you a package wrapped carefully in beautiful, ornate wrapping paper. You’re sure it’s not Toji’s doing. He’s not the type.

As soon as he leaves, Gojo pushes himself away from you. It leaves you a little sorrowful, the speed with which he tries to get away. He only did it for your sake, you know. He wanted to protect your honor in front of Naoya because you’re his master. But it must have disgusted him, to get on his knees for a human, if he recoiled so fast.

“What did he mean, what Toji did to you?” Gojo asks over dinner.

You know instantly that you’ll only draw his ire if you try to play dumb.

“Toji pushed me off that cliff the day you found me.”

Gojo’s eyes darken. The next time Naoya returns, he promises you, he’d set his tail on fire. No one besmirches his master’s honor like that.

It’s about honor, of course. You’d be a fool to think otherwise.

Alone in your chambers, you unwrap the package Naoya gave you. It’s an incense burner, beautiful and silver. As apology presents go, it’s a decent one. You set it aside for use at a later time.

Naoya’s visit only makes Gojo’s training worse, but these days, you’ve grown used to him and his harsh words. The more that he yells at you for being weak, the more you can brush it off as Gojo just being Gojo. That only irritates him more, of course.

But nothing pisses him off as much as you claiming that you’re returning to school. Gojo thinks that you have no need for school as a god. There’s nothing the humans can teach you that he can’t.

In your eyes, Gojo is a kitsune. That means he’ll never understand a teenage girl’s heart. School isn’t about learning, it’s about the experience! You’ll never be in high school again - there are so many things you still haven’t experienced, like school trips. You only have one youth - you have to seize it in the moment!

Gojo isn’t convinced.

Like an overbearing parent, he nags you all day and night until finally, you strike a deal. He’ll let you go to school, but only as long as you cover up the god-mark on your head. Gojo is never one to make things easy for you. The hat he bestows you with is an ugly grandma print with faux fox ears. You’ll be the laughingstock of the school!

“It’s dangerous,” he says. “Who knows what wild beasts will be lurking about?”

“You’re the wild beast,” you say. “I can’t wear that!”

“I guess you can’t go to school then,” he sighs. “What a pity.”

It’s all for show, of course. You know what he’s really like. There’s no use in arguing - either you agree to his compromise or you stay here, stuck in the temple for the rest of your life. You’ll miss out on all the joys of youth, never growing old in your cloistered shrine. The thought is unbearable.

You snatch the hat from him in indignation. Putting it on before you leave the next day makes you cringe, but as long as you avoid mirrors, you can almost forget that it’s there - if not for your classmates staring at you. You can feel their judging eyes everywhere you go, and the whispers.

You can’t even say you don’t care - you do care. You only have one high school life, and Gojo is ruining it. During lunch, you escape into the bathroom to mope and avoid all of your classmates.

“Are you getting bullied?” Gojo’s voice is too bright and cheery for your dark mood right now. You can’t promise to remain calm if he stays here.

“This is the girl’s bathroom, Gojo.”

“Don’t be like that. I’m just worried about my master,” he says. “Well? How is it? Do you want to go home now?”

He’s lying. You know he’s not worried about you at all, but you should be used to it. You don’t know why it stings as much as it does.

You’re hurt even though you know this is just how Gojo is. Of course he’d be happy to see you miserable - he hadn’t even wanted you for a god in the first place. He’s bound to you by obligation, and nothing more. You had known from the start that he didn’t care about you, so why does it hurt that he won’t comfort you? It’s just like those nights in the demon world that seem so long ago now. He hasn’t changed at all.

Gojo isn’t as shocked by your outburst as he is by the tears slowly welling up in your eyes. He stands stunned as you rush out of him and back into the hallway.

Tsumiki appears next to him out of thin air, completely unimpressed.

“You did a terrible job on that one, Gojo.”

As if in a daze, he lifts his hand, where the crystal of one teardrop shines. He’d tried to reach for you at the last moment, but you were already gone. “I made her cry...”

Megumi appears next to Tsumiki, his face red. “What’s taking so long? Hurry up and leave! We’re in the girl’s bathroom!”

“Gojo was bullying our master,” Tsumiki announces.

“I wasn’t bullying her!”

“He made her cry.”

Gojo winces. “Okay, yeah. I did do that.”

Megumi kicks him in the leg, which amounts to almost nothing. “Take responsibility, then!”

When you return home, Gojo is waiting by the shrine door with an almost offensively polite smile on his face. “Let me take your coat, master.”

Him being kind gives you the creeps. You can’t help but feel like he’s planning something, especially when he shows you the lavish dinner he prepared for you with all of your favorites.

“What’s with the look?” He says, annoyed at your accusing eyes peering at him over your bowl. “I do something nice for you and this is how you treat me?”

“This is really just for me? No ulterior motives?”

“None,” he promises.

The smile that breaks over your face is like the sun through rain clouds - sudden, dramatic, and almost painfully bright after a period of gray skies.

“Thanks, Gojo!”

The look in his eyes is unreadable as he reaches to spoon more food onto your plate.

You don’t have anyone else in this world. Besides the shrine spirits, Gojo might be the only person in the world who will take care of you. For some reason, the thought doesn’t sting as much as it did this morning.

The second day of school starts with pouring rain, as if it’s a direct reaction to your foul mood earlier. Gojo pulls you back when you try to leave.

“It’s a bad omen,” he says. “Stay home with me today. I’ll worry about you if you go.”

Normally, such sweet words might bring a blush to your face, but you can read between the lines.

Stay home with me today so I can keep you out of trouble, you brat.

I’ll worry about you if you go because you’re weaker than a worm.

“Stop trying to keep me from going to school! I thought we got over this yesterday,” you huff. “I’m going to be late for the bus!”

You leave Gojo with a handful of air as you dart under his outstretched arm and out the door.

In school, all your classmates are listless.

You’ve never been so unhappy to not be the subject of attention. What is wrong with everyone? Even the teacher doesn’t reprimand anyone for sleeping in class, half-asleep herself. You’re the only one who doesn’t seem to be caught in this spell of drowsiness, which insinuates paranormal origins.

As you’re sweeping the classroom after class, one of your classmates lets out a disgruntled noise.

“It’s a snake,” she says, not at all with the intonation of someone who’s just discovered a snake. Ami’s the type to go apoplectic at the sight of a fly, much less an actual snake, so you don’t pay much mind until you hear Kurama go, “Huh, she wasn’t kidding.”

There’s a little yellow snake in the classroom. In their stupor, none of your classmates seem to care all that much about it. They just continue going about their chores. You feel bad for it. It’s such a small, fragile little creature. In their state, they might accidentally end up crushing it.

With gentle murmurs of encouragement, you coax it into your hand. It’s surprisingly docile and twines itself readily around your wrist before you set it outside the window to be set free.

Gojo doesn’t praise you for your act of heroism on the behalf of his fellow yokai, as you remind him. You saved his compatriots! Where’s the gratitude?

He calls you a stupid little girl. “I don’t care about them, I care about you!”

Your face warms with embarrassment against your will even though you know he doesn’t mean it like that. Time and time again, Gojo has stressed that he will never see yokai and humans as even remotely on the same playing field, much less capable of being romantic partners.

“You’re my master,” he says. There’s your call back to reality. “Look at this mark on your wrist.”

It appears like a normal bruise to you, though you’re not sure how it could’ve happened. Your new snake friend was very gentle when he was coiled around your wrist. He must have been someone’s escaped pet. You hope he found his way back home.

Gojo’s mad. He’s enunciating every word.

“This is exactly why I have to keep such a close eye on you. That’s no ordinary bruise. That is an engagement mark. Care to explain to me how I left you alone for one second and you got yourself engaged to a divine beast?”

Your face pales. “Excuse me?”

“That snake is going to come and claim you as his bride.”

“As a bride?” Your head spins and you have to sit down. You’re too young to get married. You look up at Gojo, teary-eyed. You don’t want this.

“Stop making that face,” he snaps, pushing a hand over your face to hide it. “As if I would let that happen. The master of the Yaga shrine, my master, could never be wed to a mere snake.”

If Gojo says he won’t let it happen, you can put your faith in him. You breathe a little easier. As mean as he can be, Megumi and Tsumiki weren’t lying when they called him the best familiar. He’s the strongest and most capable person or rather, yokai, that you know. There’s not a single task you set for him that he hasn’t been able to complete.

It’s still raining when you go outside to practice your talisman making.

You find the weather quite pleasant, even though it’s a little damp. The chill in the air cuts through the muggy feeling of summer, and the raindrops cool your cheeks. When you turn your face up to the sky, you can taste ozone in the little drops that pelt your face.

“You’re very beautiful, kamisama,” says a voice.

There's a man waiting just outside the red gates. A supplicant? In this weather? You better get him inside in a hurry. You dash over to him.

“What are you doing? Come inside, you’ll get wet!”

Just as you reach him, he lifts his face. He looks like a statue, with high cheekbones, and solemn eyes. His hair is the same pale yellow as the snake you saw earlier that day-

“Gojo!”

But it’s too late.

The snake has a hold on your wrist, right above the engagement mark. He takes you away.

One moment, you’re standing in your own backyard, the next, you’re surrounded by almost-familiar bamboo walls. It looks like your shrine but for little distinguishing touches. That makes you uncomfortable.

“This is Haibara shrine,” the snake says. “I’m Nanami, the familiar of Haibara-sama. I’ve taken you away to marry you.”

There’s a curtain over the center of the room. Haibara presumably rests behind it, but something strikes you as off about the whole scenario. That’s not what’s foremost on your mind, however.

“I don’t want to marry you! You kidnapped me!”

He tilts his head at you. “I couldn’t have kidnapped you. We’re engaged, you see?” He traces the mark on your wrist with one slim finger. “We’re going to be very happy together.”

“You’re being creepy,” you push him away.

At your rejection, something dark crosses over his features - not danger, but pain. He has some nerve feeling upset when you’re the one who should be upset here!

“That’s alright,” he says, trying to stroke your hair. You won’t let him touch you. “I know it can take some getting used to. Here, let me show you to your room.”

Nanami has clearly put a lot of thought into decorating for you. It’s beautifully furnished, with rich silk sheets and the fragrant smell of plum blossoms permeating the air. Here, there’s not a single thing you could want but-

Gojo.

You miss Gojo and you miss your shrine.

When Nanami leaves you in your room, it feels like a tomb in the silence. You bury your face in your expensive, hateful sheets and try to resist the urge to sob. You want Gojo to come get you. You want to go home.

Hours pass, but Gojo doesn’t come.

Nothing but the sound of your breathing changes, passing from frantic to deeper, slower, steadier. As your head clears, you notice the window. It’s a beautifully ornate design, a red knot of luck. The center is just big enough for a girl to squeeze through, if you try hard.

Resolve grips you.

You’re not going to wait for Gojo to rescue you. You’re going to get out of here yourself, find him, and scold him for not coming to get you earlier. Aren’t you his most beloved master, as he so professes? You’re going to make him kneel for at least three hours practicing his apologies!

Filled with renewed conviction, you hoist yourself onto the window sill and begin the tedious task of shimmying yourself out. Just when you’re nearly there, the sharp edge of the metal scrapes your shin, leaving a long, thin cut.

The smell of salt replaces the plums immediately.

“God?” Comes Nanami’s voice. “I smell blood. Are you alright?”

“I’m fine!” You panic. If he discovers your escape attempt now, he might try to put you in a more secure room, and then you’ll really never see Gojo again.

The adjacent wall caves in.

Gojo stands in the rubble, seething, each hand wreathed in blue flame. He doesn’t even notice you, his attention wholly focused on Nanami. “You drew her blood? Are you prepared to face the consequences of hurting my master, snake?”

You grab his arm just before he attacks. “He didn’t! I hurt myself on the window- oof!”

Gojo’s so much bigger than you are. When he folds you into his arms, his entire body surrounds you. His chin tucks itself over your head, his large arms wrap around your body. You’ve never felt more secure than you are here, now. “I thought you’d be crying.”

His voice is hoarse.

You’ve never heard that before.

“You came,” you whimper, burying your face into his shoulder.

Nanami’s face is crestfallen. “Are you going to leave me?”

You grab Gojo’s arm and duck into the other room, where Haibara’s curtain is.

“Don’t!” Nanami cries.

When you pull it back, there’s nothing but an old, dusty kimono.

You were right.

This place is godless.

“You’re no familiar,” Gojo snarls, turning on Nanami. “Don’t even think to call yourself that. The difference between you and me is as clear as day, you vile beast. You’ll pay for your insolence with the loss of your shrine.”

Nanami’s misery is written all over his face. You’ve realized what’s wrong with this shrine. It’s too quiet, as if no one has prayed here for generations. Haibara has been dead for a long, long time.

Nanami must have been lonely.

“Don’t,” you tell Gojo.

He stares at you, incredulous. “Are you out of your mind?”

You tug yourself out of Gojo’s arms. Nanami’s crouched on the ground, trying to shield Haibara’s old kimono from Gojo’s foxfire. You kneel to his level.

“I’m sorry you’ve been lonely for all this time, Nanami. I can’t stay with you, but if you come to my shrine, we can play again.”

Nanami weeps and reaches for your hand. The mark of the snake dissolves.

Gojo doesn’t talk to you on the way back to the shrine.

“Don’t be mad,” you say, tugging on the sleeves of his kimono. He gives you a deadpan stare. “Come on! I only did it because-”

You can’t finish your sentence.

Of course, that piques Gojo’s interest. He can never resist bullying you.

“Because? Go on,” he goads you.

You say it so quietly he can’t hear you, even with his fox ears. He spins around, grabs you by the waist, and hoists you up so you’re face to face. You yelp and scramble to grab onto his shoulders for balance.

“Louder,” he demands. “I can’t hear you.”

“I was thinking about what would happen if I died and you were all alone again. I couldn’t leave him alone because I was thinking of you,” you tell him. Thinking of Gojo watching after an empty shrine all alone like Mizuki makes your heart ache for reasons you can’t explain.

He stiffens. “What a strange thing to worry about. I wouldn’t care.”

“Ugh,” you smack him in the shoulder. You shouldn't have tried to be kind to him.

He doesn’t put you down, shifting you into an easier hold. “You’re hurt,” he admonishes when you try to squirm.

Just before you enter the shrine gates, he has a confession of his own to make. “I’m sorry,” he says. “You got hurt because I wasn’t protecting you.”

You rub his ears, an indulgence you’re not sure he would’ve allowed if he wasn’t in such a mood. “It’s not your fault!”

“I’ve never had a human master,” he says. “I have to be careful not to break you. You’re so easily hurt.”

“You don’t have to say it like that,” you say, and then the shrine spirits are there to welcome you home.

You hadn’t realized you thought of the shrine as home until today.

Even though Nanami’s mood isn’t affecting the weather anymore, it’s still raining. Gojo tells you not to mind the weather, even though you’re certain that it’s not from natural causes, which means it is your job. Ever since you came back from Haibara’s shrine, Gojo has been extra protective of you.

You hadn’t thought Gojo had needed to be protected too, not until the thunder god came.

The god of storms and lightning is called Getou Suguru. He carries a mallet in one hand that can transform whoever it touches into their younger forms, and he used to be Gojo’s best and only friend. He’s also the one who called a bounty on your head.

#sera writes #gojo satoru x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader

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look-at-the-soul · 6 months ago

Text

A night at Delux

Modern Tommy Shelby

Master list

Author’s notes: This story is for you, in no particular order @zablife @runnning-outof-time @red-riding-wood @teenwolf-theoriginals @justrainandcoffee @brummiereader I’ve had the main idea in my mind for weeks after driving past a luxury restaurant daily, I think it’d still haunt me if I didn’t write this one down lol… anyways I decided to a few names of lovely mutuals. This is a small nod to you all for the amazing work you do and in an attempt to cheer you up or anyone who might need it at the moment. If for whatever reason you feel down, without inspiration, worried, or anything else, know that it will pass. This particular moment that feels like too much won’t last forever ✨I just hope/wish you get what you are looking for. And to anyone else going through anything hard right now, this is for you too!

Ps. Don’t panic the fandom isn’t falling down, I just felt the need to dedicate this story to lovely mutuals to spoil and cheer them up a bit 🤗

Last but not least, extra 🌟 to @blondie-22 for creating this gorgeous moodboard!! 💖

Word count: 3,245

Friday night had been quiet compared to today, it seems like everyone decided to go out on Saturday and go to that club, as if there wasn’t enough options in the city.

Y/N swallowed hard feeling worried, this was her second weekend working at the club and she wanted to give a good first impression and save as much money as possible.

Her other job as secretary paid for the rent and services, but she needed to have this second one on the weekends to support her grandmother and her medicines.

As the hostess, she was requested to wear a total black outfit, so she thought her little black dress was the right choice, it was fitting for her shape, it wasn’t too revealing or short and one of the girls, Red had suggested spraying some lidocaine on her feet to be able to stand all night in those heels. She quickly adapted well to the group of girls that worked there, they were all so nice to her and welcoming.

“Ready? I’ve an amazing list prepared.” Lee, one of the girls walked past her, ready to take her place at the DJ booth.

“Last week was hectic, I’ve a feeling this will be crazier.” Y/N expressed fiddling with the guest list for the night.

“Here, drink this.” Brummie, another of the girls came closer placing a glass next to Y/N. After a week, Y/N learned the reason for that nickname was her strong Brummie accent even after all the years she left the place.

“Go easy on the drinks, she makes them strong.” K chuckled. She was the first one to welcome Y/N into their little girls-gang as they called themselves. The only ladies working in a place owned by men.

“Doors opening in ten.” The manager advised, taking one more look at the place, waiters were ready. “Make tonight a good night everybody.”

Lee started playing the music then, experimenting with some new beats, she mixed a couple of the new hits. Lights down, Y/N took a deep breath, approaching the door.

“They better leave good tips tonight.” Red raised her eyebrows. She was in charge of promos, she was great at convincing people to order another round of shots, or if it was ladies night and they got 2x1 on special drinks.

“We’re in your hands Red.”

“I’ll do my best ladies.” She replied through the device they shared to communicate.

“Alright, it’s about time.” Y/N rolled her neck. “Lee, we’ve a party of six tonight, celebrating a bachelorette, could you include some anthems?”

“Absolutely darl.” Lee then turned up the volume of the music.

“If someone sees that baker, let me know?” Rose appeared then at the bar, she had been hiding in the office, she was in charge of detecting any potential trouble from the monitors.

“Sweetheart, everyone knows he’s not a baker.” Lee informed her, talking about Alfie.

“I haven’t seen him, so I wouldn’t know.” Y/N called from her place.

“Oh he’s just the most handsome man ever.” Rose swooned.

Y/N chuckled, the club would be the last place where she’d find love, she just knew that. Walking towards the door, the guard opened it for her.

She started searching for the name she was given in the guest list. A group of girls wearing exaggerated make up and deep cleavage plus the shortest skirts or dresses where the firsts ones to make it in. She was totally against it, but it was an unwritten rule to let people in, the more skin, the better.

But she wasn’t there to judge anyone, let the girls dress as they preferred, in the end she wasn’t the one getting wasted and dragged in the end of the night to throw up outside. She was there just for the money. Another table was filled by three men, they were older and dressed in button shirts with ripped jeans, as if it was an uniform for them.

Y/N thought how it was funny to try to guess their backgrounds, where they came from and with whom they might leave the club. She was just trying to make the time pass faster.

In no time, the club was packed, but outside there was still a bunch of people trying to make it.

People tried to give Y/N money to get in, some were even rude to her but the guards took charge into the matter and invited them to leave.

“I made a reservation, could you check again?” The young guy requested politely.

Y/N started reading the names again, but by the corner of her eye, she caught someone skipping the line. “Ah, excuse me? Sir?”

The man who was already by the door, turned around slowly, opening the zipper of his jacket. His death stare made Y/N feel a shiver running down her back.

“There’s a line you’ve to make and wait.” Three more men arrived and stared at her with amused expressions. “Name?”

The man blinked and rolled his tongue over his lower lip. “Shelby. But you won’t find my name there, love.” Y/N saw him stopping the three other men with his hand.

“Then you’ll have to wait in the queue.”

For an instant, his expression was so transparent and Y/N knew he was offended.

“I’m sorry, but I’m just following orders.” She apologized and shuddered under his intense blue irises.

“Oi!” One of them, the one with a mustache tried to step closer.

“Arthur, leave it, we’re going to follow this lovely lady’s order and wait.” He then turned to face her again. “Accept a sincere apology for trying to get in.” He then winked.

The well dressed men followed his instructions and stepped back. Then she focused on the next people on the guest list, guiding them inside.

Barely a minute went by when Lucas, the manager grabbed her by the arm, dragging her inside in a blunt movement that made her go alert.

“What’s wrong with you?!” Lucas snapped, spit flying from his mouth. “You left the Shelby brothers outside! The fucking owners of this place.”

Just as Lucas was explaining Y/N her mistake , Tommy walked behind her, with his brothers following his steps.

“That was a first Tommy.” John grinned. “The first woman who doesn’t let you walk in as the owner of the place, and you did nothing.”

John was definitely having fun at Tommy’s expense. Arthur couldn’t help the smirk on his lips, but he tried to hide it behind his hand.

“Yeah, yeah she was only doing her job.” Tommy tried to excuse the hostess.

There was something that took him by surprise and startled him.

“And you walked back to the queue like a dog with the tail between the legs.” John went off again.

Tommy dragged his eyes across the club, he needed to know more about her. So he walked towards the bar.

“The usual Mr. Shelby?” Brummie asked her boss from behind the bar, he always waited to be served at his table.

Slowly, he posed his eyes on her, considering his options. “Please.” He replied then, clearing his throat.

“Here you go, I’ll take the other drinks up in a second.”

“Thank you.” With a nod, he turned his back at her and slowly strolled across the club. Although he had security, he always checked his surroundings.

After a while, he found the manager. “Lucas, come here.” Patting him on the back, Tommy asked him about the hostess, she was just passing by in that very moment, but Tommy noticed the quick glance she threw at him.

“Again, I’m sorry it happened Mr. Shelby, she’s new but it won’t repeat.”

“No problem.” He added calmly. “What do you know about her?”

Lucas shook his head, he didn’t care about the staff personal life. “Not much, but I’ll investigate her.”

In that moment, Tommy’s eyes found her, arms linked with the girl in charge of the checking the credit cards records.

“Damn it, I made a huge mistake, I’m so so done.” Y/N cried in a low voice. Worry written all over her face.

“What did you do?” Rose squeezed her shoulder.

“I didn’t know it was him.” She babbled. “I asked Mr. Shelby and his brothers to wait in line for their turn to get a fucking table.” Y/N explained over the music.

Rose stared at her for a split second and then bursted into an incontrolable laugh. “No you didn’t!”

“I did Rose! I did… and now he’s going to fire me.”

But she kept laughing. Trying to take a deep breath she sent their chat group a message urging the other girls to meet in the back.

You’re not gonna believe what Y/N did, she’s a hero! - she announced proudly.

“I can’t imagine the face he put on, must’ve gone like a stone.” Rose pinched her arm playfully.

Lee programmed a couple of songs to play automatically, Brummie left the bartender in charge while she claimed a quick bathroom trip. Red rushed the guys on the table to pay her for their drinks and tip.

As the group gathered in the back, they we waiting eager to hear what had happened.

“Our newest friend here, made the boss wait in line to get a table.” Rose announced ceremonially, pointing at Y/N.

She wasn’t trying to make fun of her, just trying to have a moment to relax.

Y/N groaned mortified, she kept shaking her head. Overthinking of what would happen.

“Nice way to get the Shelby’s attention.” Red pointed at Y/N with a smile, enjoying the teasing.

“Can we ask for the CCTV footage?” K asked. “I want to see him in the line.”

“I was looking for you,” Isiah one of the blinders appeared suddenly, “ladies how are you doing? Y/N… Mr. Shelby wants to see you.”

A chorus of ohhh’s from the girls filled the space.

Then, the girls started cheering on her.

“There she goes.” K sighed.

“Do you think she’s in trouble?” Lee looked around the group.

“Well it depends…” Red crossed her arms. “Hopefully he’s in a good mood.”

“I doubt it to be honest.” Rose raised an eyebrow skeptically. “But maybe she knows how to tame the beast.”

“Oh oh, if there’s group meeting it means something happened?” Mia joined the girls, she asked permission to arrive later that day. She had some personal affair to attend.

K placed her hands on Mia’s shoulders. “You just missed the fun, but I’ll make a short version while we prepare some drinks.” They were both in charge of the bar.

“Last time we had an urgent meeting, Michael got arrested.” Mia remembered with a chuckle.

“Oh, this is better than that.” Red assured before going back to the crowded tables.

As Y/N followed Isiah, her heart was pounding, grabbing her phone she texted her friend, Heidi.

I think I messed up, BIG.

A quick answer appeared on her screen, in the background a themed photo illuminated the phone, beautiful shades of green reminded her of nature and hope, it was made by a really talented friend.

What happened?! Are you OK?

Yeah. No… I confused the owner of the club and asked him to wait outside and make the line!

Her phone buzzed again.

No way! Tell me how it goes.

If I don’t reply back he probably let me blind. Carries a peaky cap with a razor blade.

Y/N took a deep breath and checked her phone again.

Don’t worry, I’m sure it will be fine. Her friend encouraged back.

She just prayed to not mess it up again and start babbling, arriving at the private area where the Shelby’s were she quickly tried to fix her short hair and bangs.

“Good evening,” her voice was shaking, her legs and her heart, everything! “I’d like to apologize for what happened earlier, I’m new and didn’t know any of you.”

Her eyes landed one more time on who seemed to be the leader, those icy eyes boring into the deepest part of her. His lips were pursed in a tight line.

“It’s okay, love. Don’t worry.” He couldn’t take his eyes off of her.

“Yeah, now me brother wants to find a way to speed the line up.” One of them explained, blowing his smoke towards the ceiling.

“John.” The man with the blue eyes warned. “Nevertheless, I’ve to thank you for keeping the line in check.”

His deep accent and the way he dragged each word gave her chills.

“Thank you, well that’s my job.”

“Here drink this.” Another of them, the one with a mustache offered her a glass. “To a very good job!”

The two youngest were whispering something and staring back at the leader.

“It’s alright, really.” Tommy assured her after seeing the fear in her eyes.

“Just make sure it doesn’t happen again.” The one he called John a moment ago suggested.

“Again I’m really sorry.”

“Y/N is it?” He rolled his tongue over his lips after saying her name. “It’s alright.”

“Just so you know, I’m John, so you don’t mistake me again.” He had a huge grin on his face. “This is Finn, Michael and Arthur.” He started pointing out at everybody. “And that’s Tommy.”

“I won’t forget your names.” She repeated them mentally. “Enjoy your night, I’ll bring you another round.”

Y/N excused herself and went back to work. He was wearing a simple white shirt with a jacket and black jeans, but somehow he made it look effortlessly good. She was trying to focus on the people in the guest list instead of those eyes that reminded her of the most beautiful sky.

She smiled at a couple that walked past her dancing to the beat of the music.

A table next to her exploded in shouts and claps as K and Mia arrived with their shots and sparklers.

From the second floor, Tommy was watching her every move, eyes following her everywhere, studying her moves and the way she approached clients.

Arthur waved his hand in front of Tommy’s eyes after he didn’t listened to what he said.

“Tom? What do you think?”

Finn nudged John’s arm, tilting his head towards Tommy.

Tommy took a long puff of his cigarette, pretending to be part of their conversation.

“Hmm?”

“Earth calling Tommy.” John teased. “He’s still waiting outside in the queue.”

Shooting John a death stare, he asked Arthur to repeat himself.

“Shall we call some women up?”

“Whatever.” He cleared his throat and stood up making his way through the club.

Talking to security, they informed him they kicked out a customer that got noisy and aggressive, but other than that, it was a quiet night. Everything seemed to be under control, the place was packed, everyone wanted to get in, live the experience and have the status only Delux could offer. He knew it was the best club in town, many club owners tried to copy his place, but they all failed, they tried to copy the details that made his club unique, it screamed luxury and good taste.

Eyeing Y/N across the club, Tommy decided to walk towards her, she was focused on the list before her eyes, swaying her hips to the beat of the music, pouting her lips murmuring the words… he could only imagine how would them feel against his, while his fingers tangled in her short hair.

Before he could reach her, she then turned her back at him to walk in the opposite direction, but abruptly, she changed her mind and turned around again, bumping into Tommy’s chest in the process.

“Mr. Shelby! I’m really sorry.” He could tell she was mortified, embarrassed.

“It’s alright, sweetheart.” Tommy reluctantly took a step back.

Y/N hoped her voice wouldn’t crack. “Do you need something?” Battling her lashes slowly at him. “Can I take you your drinks upstairs?”

He was startled by her overwhelming beauty, under some kind of spell by her voice and smile. It had been so long since he felt so captivated by someone… Shaking his head slowly to clear his mind, but she thought he was saying no to her.

Taking that as her cue to leave, Y/N started walking away. “Well if you need anything, let me know.”

“Actually I do.” Tommy managed to say, making Y/N turn to face him once more.

Everything happened in a blink, he grabbed her by her face and kissed Y/N, not able to resist the desire any longer. But when she answered the kiss with the same eagerness and placed her hand on the back of his neck to pull Tommy closer he lost it.

Guiding Y/N towards the wall, he trapped her between it and his body.

Kissing her hard, he tilted his head to the opposite side, relieved to feel her matching his desire. Feeling one of his hands, brushing down from her waist to her hip and then down her leg, she added some pressure on his shoulders.

“Someone can come.” Y/N warned him breathlessly, his lips barely away from hers, just what was really necessary for her to speak.

“I don’t fucking care, I own this place.” Tommy told her right before kissing her again with passion.

Squeezing the flesh of her thigh and he felt as if he had whiskey injected in his veins.

Y/N moved her head back slightly, that left Tommy with his mouth hanging open in an almost sensual kiss that had just slipped away from him. Opening his eyes after the failed mission, he found her bitting her lower lip playfully.

His blue irises darkened under the dim light.

“I really need get back to work or my boss might fire me.” Y/N explained before stealing one more quick peck on his lips and bending down to free herself from him, left Tommy leaning against the wall with his heart pumping so fast that it felt like he was having a heart attack.

He chuckled quietly at her statement.

Going back up, he stood looking down at the people at the club, his eyes scanning the place until he found that pretty little thing that with just one kiss, made him feel more than anyone else.

Feeling som eking of pressure on 5e back of her head, Y/N turned around and lifting her eyes, she found Tommy staring at her from the second floor. Raising his glass at her, he added a wink.

Y/N felt her cheeks blushing and smile quickly spread on her lips. Checking the clock, she walked towards the door it was about time to not let anyone else in.

“Your lipstick is smeared dear.” Mia pointed out.

“Damn it, really?” Worryingly she went back to the bar, to check her reflection on the mirror behind all the booze bottles.

As the girls started to ask her what had happened, she got another message on her phone.

Think you can send me back to the line twice and get away with it twice? Meet me in my office once you’re done. -Your boss.

She gasped. He oozed trouble from every angle, the one that won’t let you get up from bed after several rounds.

He was practically the bad boy your grandmother warned you about.

✨ thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed a little spiced story 🔥

Tag list: @lyarr24 @runnning-outof-time @cillmequick @datewithgianni @cloudofdisney

@onlydeadcells @gretelshelby @garrison-girl-08 @lespendy @fastfan

@stevie75 @prettylittlehoneyeyesxoxo @esposadomd @forbidden-forest-witch @ange-thoughts

@moral-terpitude @elenavampire21 @thenattitude @winchestergirl22 @zablife

@elk96 @blondie-22 @imichelle-l-rigby @allie131313 @already-broken144

@peakyscillian @babaohhhriley @shaddixlife @sloanexx @sydneyyyya

@adaydreamaway08 @pono-pura-vida @kmc1989 @thomashelbyswife @darleneslane

@lauren-raines-x @everythingelseisextra @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @lau219 @red-riding-wood

@ironpen @holacia3 @narlytude

#that’s what Cill said #modern tommy shelby imagine #modern!tommy shelby #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby fan fic #thomas shelby fanfiction #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby x y/n #tommy shelby x you #peaky blinders fan fiction #modern peaky blinders #arthur shelby imagine #john shelby imagine

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lycanlupins · 6 months ago

Text

┌─ “ „ EYES LIKE SKY ─┐

Roy Harper x F!Reader - Chapter 1

Cam Girl Au! [+18]

Sex toys, D&S elements, controlled orgasm, pet names

AN: im kinda back?? idk im trying this out because i really like writing again 🥹 lmk if y’all like this!! remember to like + rb + leave a comment if you enjoyed it!! Anyways, enjoy Chapter 1!!

You heard a familiar ping come from your laptop, a sign that everything was up and working on your end.

“Great…” you sigh and roll your eyes, “Time for another show.” You’re a cam girl, and a pretty successful one at that, but it never failed to make you rethink your career path when you logged in at the same time every night like clockwork. You didn’t have a specialty so to speak but you did have a specific clientele, so you did what you do best; angle your camera, adjust your lingerie and press the glaring red go live button to start your show.

[r0binhood]: how’s our favorite girl?

[seraphicsiren]: tired, been pretty low energy lately but i’m ready to please as always!

Your number one fan, r0binhood, was finally there and that meant you’d be taking home at least $100 that night.

[r0binhood]: good, hopefully that means you have all of your toys charged ;)

Gag. He was probably some creep in his 50’s, rubbing one out on his wrinkly cock while you talk him through it but fuck it, his money was a nice cushion while you got back on your feet at the new apartment you were renting.

“Hi boys, let’s start shall we?” You purred, pushing the straps of your nightgown down ever so slowly just to tease your viewers. Suddenly you hear a familiar notification, your first tip of the night. A few tokens here and there from desperate men trying to get your attention but you knew better. You knew if you wanted the real money, you would wait for him.

r0binhood has sent you 50 tokens.

There it is. You push down your nightgown, exposing the lacey bra underneath, a slew of tips flooding your notifications once more. They never got to see your face, it was your one rule, and it kept the mystery alive for them. You won’t have a breach of privacy and they can imagine you look like their wildest, wettest dreams.

[r0binhood]: private show?

[seraphicsiren]: you know the rules, private shows are 500 an hour.

He wouldn’t, you knew better than to expect a man to buy that sort of time on one of your shows. Sure, you may make a few hundred per show along with your other forms of income but a private show? In your dreams. You were asking $25 an hour for your time, it wasn’t much but most men would tune out then and there.

r0binhood bought a private show.

The screen went blank, no notifications to be had and then an empty chat popped up.

[r0binhood]: hi princess. just thought i’d spoil myself and see what you can do for me with the time we have here.

You were used to entertaining multiple men, and sometimes others, at the best of times on your streams. This was scary, this was something you were completely foreign to.

[seraphicsiren]: you have an hour of my time to tell me to do whatever it is you’d like. my attention is all on you.

Your hands were shaking, sweaty, and clammy at the thought of performing for one person. You had been intimate in the past, that wasn’t the issue, he was paying for you to please him this time. And while yes, you knew what he liked more or less, he was still someone completely stranger to you.

[r0binhood]: why don’t you start off with the bullet, don’t take anything off, just use the bullet on yourself.

You grabbed the compact vibrator from your nightstand, flipping the switch to the on position as it came to life with a whirring sound. Most often than not, you were in control of the speed and rhythm, but tonight he had tricks up his sleeve.

r0binhood redeemed 300 tokens for bullet control.

Shit. You begrudgingly sent the link for a 10 minute session on your vibrator.

[seraphicsiren]: use those 10 minutes wisely

[r0binhood]: i’ll only need 5

An immediate slow vibration started against your clit, sending a wave of pleasure through your nerves.

“Fuck…” you moan under your breath. Usually men like him would spend their 10 minutes of control on the highest setting, they never knew what you liked. They thought all women must like a high intensity session when it just felt boring to you, but you faked orgasm after orgasm when they were in control to make them feel better.

Not this time. No, this man knew what he was doing, he slowly upped the intensity until he heard that hitch in your breathing, the one that indicated that it must have felt good.

“Mmnh…that feels so good, christ…” you lolled your head back, rutting against the vibrator and a pillow under you for better friction. He must have noticed the way you were reacting because he immediately switched up the intensity for a split second to grab your attention.

[r0binhood]: needed your attention sweetheart, i want your eyes on me, i want to watch you come undone.

This man… he commanded his attention, and he commanded it well. Why was this man behind the screen making you feel horny for some god forsaken reason? Was it the dominance? The control he had over you at this moment? Fuck it, you didn’t care, it just felt so damn good.

Another minute passed before he grew bored of the intensity, turning it up a setting or two.

“Shit!” You squeaked, panting like a dog at the feeling between your legs. You were soaking, dripping all over your pretty red sheets and pillows, grinding down for some semblance of friction against your puffy, needy cunt.

Soon enough, the setting he was at was beginning to make you see stars. Babbling nonsense and a string of curses as you kept humping your pillow like a horny teen until—

“SHITSHITSHIT!” You felt that tight coil in your stomach pop, squirting all over your sheets and everything within a small distance of you. You wanted to collapse, you could feel your legs turn to jelly as you tried to crawl back to your laptop.

[seraphicsiren]: 5 minutes…left…

You knew he was chuckling behind his screen, because how the fuck did he get you to squirt on camera with just him in control.

[r0binhood]: i’ll let you be for tonight, here’s the rest of my tokens. i’ll be back tomorrow night if you’re online. see ya princess.

r0binhood tipped 1000 tokens.

Not long afterwards you ended your stream, too spent and shocked to continue for the night. You shut your laptop, cleaned your bed and made a beeline for your kitchen.

“How the fuck did he do that…” you racked your brain for the amount of times you had actually cum on stream. You could count the times on one hand and now make that two hands. You were still throbbing, rubbing your legs together while you washed some dishes in your sink. You never noticed the window in your kitchen was facing another occupied apartment until just now.

“Huh…wonder who lives there.” You watch the light from their tv flicker different colors. Suddenly you see movement, someone getting closer to the window. Holy fuck.

He looks directly at you, a smile wide on his face as he waves and opens his window. You were awestruck for a moment, he was gorgeous. Not in a model way but something different. He was rugged and manly but still somehow read as boyish. After a few moments you join him in opening your window, leaning out ever so slightly.

“Hi! I’m Roy, nice to see a friendly face across the way for once!” He shouted.

“I’m Y/N, I’m guessing this place was empty for a bit?”

“Yeah, this isn’t really the nicest building around but it's got charm! What do you say we meet for coffee sometime? I haven’t met anyone around my age in forever.”

“Yeah! How does tomorrow morning sound?”

He smiles a toothy grin. God he was cute, missing a tooth by his right canine and light ginger stubble littered his chin. He nodded while you were busy taking in every feature of his face and he chuckled.

“Hey, get some sleep, you look out of it.” He shook his head, still smiling from ear to ear. You couldn’t tell if you were throbbing from the mind numbing orgasm you had earlier or if his kind smile had your brain in a tizzy, either way you needed to take care of that feeling before bed. You finished up dishes in the kitchen, closed your window and headed straight for the cum soaked bed.

You were honestly too tired and too horny to care so you grabbed the nearest towel and dropped it on top of your sheets. You could worry about that in the morning, right now you needed sweet relief. And with your final spur of energy you grabbed your dildo and got right to work at the thought of that hot ginger across the hall.

➸➸➸

#roy harper #roy harper x reader #roy harper x you #roy harper smut #dc smut #my writing

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secret-smut-sideblog · 9 months ago

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I Should Hate You

Ascended Astarion x F! Tav

18+ confrontation, implied trauma/abuse, talks of death, ANGST, blood drinking, fighting (verbal), astarion being rough (physical), threats of violence against self, crying, tenderness, exes getting back together, dubcon, implied lack of control during sex, oral (f!), forced orgasm (kinda), disassociation

Tired of living in constant vigilance and fear, Tav has to confront the Vampire Lord. Even if it means her end. What she doesn't expect is the Ascendant doesn't want her dead at all...

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

"This is a bad idea, Tav."

"I know."

"Then don't go."

Shadowheart's wide green eyes stared deep into her. Hands cupped around her face.

"I cant-" Tav sighed, closing her eyes. "I can't live in fear anymore. Of him. Of what he might do when he finds me."

"We can leave the Sword Coast, we can go. Forever."

"That's not the point. And I wouldn't ask that of you."

"You could." Shadowheart's voice caught, planting soft kisses on her mouth. "You could ask me for anything."

"I know." Tav smiled warmly, leaning into her. Pressing their foreheads together. "I'm sorry."

They both knew what this meant. A life would be taken. Either her's, his, or both. She couldn't see an outcome without death either way. That made her heart ache but she couldn't go on this way.

Always in the shadows, skirting around the edge of society. How ironic, that she had refused his blood, his vampirism, but still lived like one. Even months on, walking with a hood on. Shrouded. Eyes down. Never looking at faces too long.

Who knew there was so much shame in freedom?

No it had to be this way. The last thread he had tied to her wrist must be severed.

She was not afraid to die. She hadn't been afraid for a long time. It wouldn't do any good to start now.

The streets looked as angelic in the soft lamplight as she had remembered. Cobblestones and passersby's. Hushed chatter from corners where couples stood. Rich as an oil painting.

Standing in shadow she took long deep breaths. Committing this view, this feeling to memory. Peace. The perfect intimacy of night.

Took a long steadying breath out.

Okay.

She lifted the hood off of her head, walking out into the soft light. Stood in it for one reverent moment. Knew it wouldn't take long. He had eyes everywhere.

She made a pointed look out, at the faces of men and animals alike. Come get me.

Walked on sure feet into the Elfsong.

"What can I do you fo-"

"Wait. It's you! Our hero! Welcome back, love!"

She smiled sheepishly. Reaching for her coinpurse.

"Ah, come on. I'm just a patron for tonight. One room, please."

"Come off it! No charge for you. I wish I could rent you your old lodgings but we've got a great room for you otherwise. Top floor!"

She smiled. Hopefully, they wouldn't have too much blood to clean up. "That sounds perfect, thank you Alan."

They chatted amicably as he led her up. Handing her the keys with a friendly clasp over her hands.

"If you need anything, anything at all. Truly don't hesitate."

The door closed solidly behind her, she kicked off her shoes. Lighting an oil lamp. Hanging her cloak.

Knew he was waiting, could feel it on the air.

If she was going to die she could at least be comfortable. Slipping into a long silk night shirt.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

Okay.

She opened the window, the night air sweet and promising. Billowing the curtains gently. Turned to the vanity and sat down. Eyes closed.

The presence behind her was unmistakable.

Fingers caressing along her collarbone. Picking up the cut ends of her hair.

She shivered, eyes still closed.

"You know, you still feel like him." She hushed, wonder and sadness melded in her voice. "That's the cruelest part. If I could just pretend..."

She opened her eyes, his torso reflected in the mirror. "But I can see you."

"You always could, darling."

She laughed solemnly. "I think I was always pretending, wasn't I? Pretending that you loved me."

"Look at me, Tav."

"Why?" She asked, genuine confusion in her voice. "What good would that do? We both know why you're here." Her eyes steady on his body reflected behind her.

Felt him move before his reflection caught up with him.

Fingers rough on her chin, pulling her face up.

"Look at me."

Her eyes snapped up to his, full of contempt.

He looked... bad. Still perfectly manicured, of course, but with dark purple circles marred under his eyes. Skin pallid. Twitchy. An air of something barely controlled.

"You really did kill everyone, didn't you?" She hushed, jaw clenching under his hold.

He stared down at her, eyes scanning. Dark around his shrunken pupils, that deep red when he hadn't fed in a while.

"Where have you been?"

She stood, his fingers still on her chin. Reached up and held onto his forearm. Not pulling away but not leaning in.

"Away."

He laughed coldly. "Away. Right."

"Why are you here, Lord Ancunin?"

His eyes cut deadly to hers then. Stepping closer.

She stood her ground, feet spread.

Their eyes level with each other.

"I'm here to take back what is mine."

"You still think I'm your spawn, don't you? Didn't you have enough courtesan's to fuck and bleed? Or did you kill them too?"

His hand snapped down around her throat. Breathing hard through his nose.

She stared back, unflinching.

"I'm not afraid of you." She whispered. Aware those words could be her last.

His eyes flared, the muscle in his jaw popping.

His hand flashed forward and ripped the hidden dagger tied to her thigh away. Throwing it across the room.

"I want you back." His voice low, dangerous. Strained.

"I tried to replace you." He lifted her onto the vanity. The bottles crashing to the floor. "None of them. None of them were enough."

She stared up at him, trying to hide the shock in her face. Why was he saying this?

"Tav," He moaned, leaning into her neck. Fingers twisting her hair. Pushing between her legs.

Her body betrayed her then. It felt like him. Smelled like him. Her eyes falling closed.

"Oh Gods, Tav." He groaned, gripping her waist. Licking a hot line up her neck.

"It's not you." She said quietly to herself. Trying to break the spell. "You're not my love."

"Please, Tav." He moaned, hiking her nightgown up over her thigh. "Please, I'm so hungry." The bare need in his voice making her belly flip.

"Why? Why are you doing this?" Her eyes prickled with angry tears. Gripping him tighter to her.

"I want you. I need you." His mouth pushed against her throat. "Please don't make me beg."

She was lost. Why was he asking for permission? Why was he asking at all?

This was not what she had envisioned. She had planned for everything but this.

And still, his hands, shaking and needful, pulled at her. How could this stranger pantomime him so well?

Before the words even left her mouth she knew it was a mistake.

"Starlight?"

He pressed his head into her, moaning low. Biting down desperately.

Fuck.

She gripped his arm, gasping. The familiar ice piercing her neck. The stark realization that she was now the meal of a starving animal. He was going to bleed her to her last drop.

Her mind raced as the gentle euphoria tried to take her. Something she used to treasure now lulling her into a false safety. She had fallen into a bear trap, neck first.

He was going to bleed her dry and change her. Make her his property, his puppet. She had to think fast.

She clenched her hand into a fist and arced it back as hard as she could, the mirror shattering against her back.

He was slow, lost in her throat. Only reacting when she held a shard of glass between them. Pressed to the other side of her neck.

"Release." She warned.

He paused, still latched on. Eyes moving fast between her hand, clamped down around the shard, blood dripping onto her nightgown. Her neck. Her eyes. Calculating.

"You know I'll do it. Release." She pressed the shard hard into her skin. The bite of the glass against her jugular.

He unlatched with a growl, lifting her off of the vanity and throwing her on the bed with inhuman strength. Catching her wrist tightly and throwing the shard hard against the wall. Shattering into a thousand tiny pieces.

"There he is." She hissed. "The Lord Ancunin."

"You are coming back with me."

"You may take my body. You can hurt me, fuck me till I bleed, I don't care. You've done worse. But you will not have me." She laughed coldly. "My heart died with you years ago. But my will is mine."

She sat up on knees, eyes level with his again. Filled with fury. That same fury before she fell.

"You have killed me a thousand times, in little cuts you bled me. Of my hope. My love. It is spilled everywhere in that castle."

Her voice rising. "I have loved you through every tortuous night. Praying and PLEADING to every god that you could love me back. You were my everything. And you tricked me. Tricked me into thinking you could hold me above anything more than a fucking plaything! How dare you come to me and ask for more!"

Tears streaming angry down her face, holding her already bruising wrists up in a mock tie.

"Go on! Take! Take more from me! That's all you have for me, right?! That's our future! Take until I am NOTHING Astarion!"

Their joined breath was heavy in the tense silence as her words cracked through the air.

He stared at her, huffing hard. His chest rising and falling.

"If you force me, I will kill us both and burn that castle to ashes. I swear it." Closing her eyes, the old pain rocking through her again. Her wrists phantom stinging. "Don't make me do this, Astarion. I dont want to hurt you. Please dont make me."

Gripping at his arms, the grief poured out of her in a flood. Her face turning away from his in shame. "Why? Why couldn't it be different with me? You told me you loved me. I could have hated you. It would have been so much kinder to let me hate you. Why did you tell me you loved me?"

Her eyes opened and stared at him through thick water. Demanding an answer. "Did I not do enough? Did I not love you enough? What did I do to deserve this?"

He stared at her, bloody tears leaking from his eyes. Face cold as marble.

His warm hand cupped her cheek. Thumb wiping gingerly at the stream of grief.

"What have I done to you, my sweet?"

She flinched away from his touch on instinct.

His other hand came to cup her face.

"Please don't do that." He whispered, a vein of agony in his voice.

She could not trust this touch. Yet she yearned so desperately to be held by him again.

"Why are you being kind to me?" She laced her fingers through his, still pressed to her cheek.

"Because I-," He started, a hollow pain in his voice. "I'm sorry."

She shook her head, eyes squeezing shut painfully. "No. Don't do that."

"I'm sorry, my love."

She choked back a sob. "Stop."

"I'm so sorry."

She kissed him to silence him. Gasping against his frightfully warm mouth. This wasn't him. She chanted in her mind. This wasn't him.

He threaded his hand through her hair, those familiar lips sliding against hers.

Why did he taste the same, feel the same? Those curls still soft against her seeking hands.

A new stream of tears flowing from her closed eyes. How cruel, for him to be as he was.

"Please, I want to pretend again." She urged, pulling at his doublet, the buttons giving in to her need. "Be sweet to me just one more time, Starlight."

He moaned out a mournful cry into her mouth. Hands pulling her nightgown over her head. "I will do anything for you, my treasure." Laying her back against the sheets. "Please let me show you."

She felt traitorous shivers go up her spine. He was still too beautiful. The silks and pressed linens of his doublet open, revealing the pale plane of his chest. Eyes so strikingly red, lashes long. Irises coursing with her ruby blood. Lips full and pouted. That soft pleading in his eyes.

"Yes, Star." Blinking away tears. "Let me believe you love me." She hushed, her lip trembling.

He kissed down her neck, hands drinking her in. Leaning his pelvis into her spread legs. The hard of his clothed length rubbing against her center.

She was lost in him again, eyes closing. Tight with tears. It had been so long.

His touch intoxicating, pulling the silk of need from her. Tongue crushed velvet against her writhing torso.

"Yes," She urged, head thrown back.

He ran his hot tongue down the sensitive skin inside her thigh, lidded eyes meeting hers. Snapping his doublet open with quick fingers and pulling it fluidly over his head.

"I need you." She whispered. It was never fair, what he did to her.

His eyes suddenly burned out red from the pupil, glowing hot crimson. Mouth falling open, fangs elongating. A rattling in the back of his chest. She realized he had stopped breathing entirely.

A strike of fear pulsed with her arousal. No, this wasn't him. This wasn't a man at all.

"Astarion," She called softly, trying to bring him back.

But he was gone.

His burning eyes darted down to her cunt. Fingernails lengthening into sharp points.

At inhuman speed he dove onto her. Laving hard stripes up and down her center.

She cried out, gripping the sheets. "Fuck," She yelped, already seeing stars.

The onslaught was vicious, his tongue pulsing fast and greedy. Face fully buried in her. Nose pushing up into her clit as he crushed his tongue into her.

Her hips continued to rise in an effort to get away and he only followed, head pushing higher.

"Oh my Gods," She nearly shrieked, the pleasure so intense her body tried to twist away.

He grabbed around her hips and stood on his knees, his ascended strength lifting her entire pelvis up with ease. Her legs falling forward over her chest. Only her shoulder blades still on the bed.

In this new position, he steered her back into his mouth. Burning red eyes glazed over, sharp nails digging into her ass hard enough to break skin. Ten drops of blood dripping down her back.

She clenched her legs together, whimpering loudly. Needing it to stop but her traitor body hungry for more.

He zeroed in on her clit, eyes focusing on her again. Two glowing points in the dim light. That rattling in his chest scaring her and striking a flint of heat through her core.

He clamped down and sucked hard, tongue pulling fast pulses against her engorged clit.

She writhed helplessly, moaning out prey cries. A rabbit caught.

"Please, please, I cant take it-" She whimpered loudly, her limbs tingling hot in warning. The ache in her pelvis nearly breaching.

Her vision went white as it hit her. Shrieking out as a perfect agony thrashed her against the stones. Drowning in the pleasure of his violence. Her body wrenching in a tortuous rhythm. Fucked to oblivion. Arching up, head hanging as he lifted her even higher. The blood rushing to her head threatening black stars in her vision.

"Stop," She gasped as his mouth continued to devour her. "Please, enough."

"Astarion, STOP!"

His eyes dimmed again, the red pulling away he let her drop, blinking. "Oh, oh my treasure. I-"

She curled onto her side. Pulling her legs hard into her body. Shaking and closing her eyes.

She was vaguely aware of him speaking above her but she was gone. Drifting away from her body. Seeing the room from far, far above herself. The world narrowing to a small point.

His hands shaking her brought her crashing back.

"Tav," He urged, looking deep in her eyes. "Tav, please speak to me."

"I want you to go." She whispered, looking foreign at him. "Please, go."

"No, please. I dont know what-"

"If you care as much as you pretend to, then please go."

He bit his lip, eyes scanning her face.

"I will find you again. I will make this right."

She layed her head back down, curling back into herself.

He pulled the sheets and blankets up over her. Pushing a lock of her hair behind her ear.

"I will see you again, my treasure."

And he was gone, whipping up into the wind, out the open window.

Left with the silence of the night, she let the slow tears leak down the side of her face.

What had she started?

Part 5

#evil vampire rizz release me #beautiful screenshot by @astarionposting #astarion smut #astarion x tav #ascended astarion #lyrics from: will you cry - gracie abrams

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soleilceirinen · 1 year ago

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When the darkness comes (Thomas Shelby x Shadowhunter!Reader) - Part 1

Summary: you are a shadowhunter investigating the sudden rise of yin fen in the Downworld, the trail leads you to Small Heath and a blue eyed gangster.

A/N: I'm obsessed with Cillian Murphy, it's a fact. I also have an obsession with Shadowhunters (the books, especially The Infernal Devices). I had this idea in my head for a while so I said, why not? I don't think it's necessary to have read the books to understand the fic, although it probably helps. Also, it may not be accurate with the timeline of the series but honestly, I don't care.

(I just wanted to share my obsession, I think when Cillian was young he looked like Will Herondale in The Infernal Devices and now that he's older he looks like Will in The Last Hours. He is described with high cheekbones, full lips, blue eyes, dark hair... in my mind Cillian is Will).

English is not my first language, sorry if there are mistakes!

MASTERLIST - PEAKY BLINDERS MASTERLIST - Part 2

During the past few months, the use of a drug called yin fen had grown exponentially among the inhabitants of the Downworld. The head of the London Institute trusted you enough to put you in charge of the investigation into who was bringing it to England, and worse yet, who was exporting it to America. You were committed to finding out, no matter what it would cost.

Those most affected by its consumption were werewolves, which was expected and somehow broke your heart since you were quite fond of the species. But that was not the end of it, at some point mundanes had discovered the silver drug and had begun to consume it uncontrollably. It could never end well, as a nephilim you had to put an end to it.

After spending the last two weeks busy with the investigation of the shipments, you had finally found a trail that led you to a place called Small Heath.

You had heard many names, the most repeated ones had been the Shelby family and the Peaky Blinders. Above all of them, the most frequent was Thomas Shelby. The people you talked to for information seemed to be afraid to even say his name out loud, some of them refused to answer your questions but others went so far as to describe him as the devil himself.

That made you worry. What if that man was a demon? It was a possibility, in that case you should notify the Enclave immediately but first, you needed to be completely sure of it.

It had been raining all day so when the afternoon came, you realised that it was not going to stop anytime soon. You stretched your back and got up from the small table where you had been sitting for hours now. It was cluttered with documents and information about The Shelby Company Limited and its members. You took a quick look at the one-bedroom apartment you had rented, it was a mess. Shrugging, you approached the armchair where you had left your shadowhunter gear in the morning and started getting ready to go outside. Maybe in the Garrison you could find more clues.

You had a glamour on, which meant that you were invisible to the mundane eye. You had also marked yourself with a rune of stealth, so you moved in complete silence. Walking around the interior of the pub and carefully observing the customers, you sighed tiredly. There was nothing suspicious.

You left the pub and took shelter from the rain at the entrance. When you first heard about the Garrison, you hoped it would be some kind of Downworlder lair but you only found a bunch of drunk mundanes. Not even one werewolf or a fairy barmaid.

Two young men came out of the pub too and stood next to you while smoking and talking in a low voice, neither of them noticed your presence.

"You should try it," one of them said. The other shook his head, letting out a puff of smoke. "Why not, Isaiah? It's better than Tokyo..."

The tallest one, Isaiah, threw his cigarette on the ground and adjusted his cap. "I don’t know, Finn. I've heard things, none of them good."

“Nonsense,” scoffed the first one.

Finn's name was familiar to you, if you remembered correctly, he was one of the members of the Shelby family. Although the possibility of him not being the same one was there, their conversation had caught your attention. They could be talking about any other drug but something deep inside told you that you were in the right place.

As far as you knew, the effect of yin fen in humans was similar to that of cocaine, it was a strong stimulant. You examined the boys, looking for any sign that could tell you that they were addicted to the drug but they looked good with their tailored suits and freshly cut hair. In general, they seemed healthy.

It was very noticeable when someone was a yin fen addict. The drug used to drain the person’s colour, leaving a silver coloration in their skin, hair and eyes, as its name indicated: silver powder.

"They're coming," Finn said, pointing down the street with his lit cigarette.

Looking in said direction, you saw a group of men dressed just like the two boys, with nice tailored suits and caps, approaching the Garrison. As they came closer, you moved to the side to let them pass. Despite being invisible due to the glamour, you were still very tangible. They passed by, ignoring you as you were expecting. One of them, a tall man with a moustache, hugged Finn enthusiastically, laughing and gesturing for them to enter the pub.

You watched as they got in, unaware of the pair of blue eyes that were staring at your figure. The man didn’t even blink when you looked back at him.

He was pale and had dark circles under his eyes as if he had not slept in days, almost like a vampire. He could have been one except for the fact that he was holding an almost finished cigarette in his hand, and it was well known that vampires avoided fire as much as possible since they could burn like paper. With each drag he took on the cigarette, the tip of it lit up like a small orange eye in the rain.

His blue eyes roamed your body up and down, he then raised an eyebrow at your appearance. You were dressed all in black like most shadowhunters did, with your hair tied in a braid and the tip of two seraph blades protruding over your shoulders. You carried more weapons, but these were not visible to the man.

He could see you.

It made your heart pound in your chest with anticipation. You stared back at him in silence, hesitating about whether you should talk to him or get ready to fight him.

You could not do one thing or the other, because at that moment, the man with the moustache came out of the pub and put his arm over the man who was staring at you. “Tommy! Come in, we’re waiting for you. What are you doing here in this rain? You’re soaked…”

Tommy as in...Thomas Shelby?

Tommy nodded towards you. The other man looked at your direction, it caused you the same feeling as always when someone looked at you while wearing a glamour, as if instead of seeing you, he saw through you.

"What is it, brother?" he wondered, winking his eyes in a vain attempt to see something.

Tommy looked from you to the other man with a confused expression. You remained silent. He dropped the rest of his cigarette to a puddle and ran a hand over his face, shaking his head. After one last glance in your direction, he turned and lightly pushed his brother towards the pub.

"I think I'm seeing spirits like Polly, Arthur," he muttered in a hoarse voice while they walked away.

The last thing you heard before they disappeared behind the doors of the Garrison was Arthur's muffled laughter.

#thomas shelby #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby x y/n #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders #shadowhunters #the shadowhunter chronicles #shadowhunter!reader

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billthedrake · 1 year ago

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TELEPHONE POLE

If it hadn't been for the lousy weather on the long weekend, Frank Grisholm may never have taken the chance. But he'd spent two days straight in his apartment, edging for hours with a vial of poppers, a tub of Albolene, and a collection of his favorite dildos, some quite impressive in size. The former D1 football player had a life change at 30, but for as long as it took for him to come out, it had taken less than a year for the muscled 6'5" hunk to realize he craved to have his hole worked over.

Just like grocery shopping when you're hungry, you should never log onto the apps when you've been marathon masturbating. But Frank couldn't help himself. Something about the dildos felt second-best that day. He scrolled through some familiar profiles, holding his phone in his right hand while his left slowly sawed a black-rubber Big Boy in and out of his ass.

He saw a couple of tops he'd hooked up with. Not fuck buddies, but maybe he could reach out for a repeat. Only his attention was caught by a new profile. Or at least new to Frank. The picture was PG rated. Well, R rated, maybe. A picture of a guys' shorts with a huge ridge filling out the package. The profile listed the vital stats. 20 years old, 5'9, 155#, top.

But the dick pick is what got Frank excited, and maybe a little scared. He'd never seen a dick as fat as this. Sometimes guys used the term "beer can" for cocks that probably weren't quite as big and round as an actual beer can. Unless images deceived, this one was fatter than one. It was a bludgeon of a cock that looked like a butt plug, slightly torpedo shaped with two heavy balls clinging to the stalk and a tuft of dark brown pubes behind it.

Then there was the rest of the writing:

THE REAL DEAL. This isn't photoshopped, fellas. It's a tree trunk cock ready to plow some experienced muscle ass.

TURN ONS: Masculine men, linebacker builds, meaty asses. Older guys cool. Cunt training. Seeing that gape.

TURN OFFS: Guys who pussy out. Condoms. Drugged out dudes (poppers and 420 ok)

FRONT OF THE LINE: NO FOREPLAY fucks. Military men.

I need serious takers only.

Frank had enjoyed some intense dildo play, for sure. Even back in his 20s, he had a secret stash of them, and he'd use them on himself whenever his fiancee was out. It was a lie he kept up, until his 30th birthday. He splurged and rented an escort on a business trip to Atlanta. He had to scratch that itch, to get it out of his system.

Only it was the best sex of his life. That big cocked escort had fucked the ex-jock to two toe-curling orgasms in quick succession. He didn't even charge Frank for going over the time.

The next week, Frank called off his engagement and started making plans to get a job in a city, a real city.

"Hey," he now typed. He was actually intimidated to reach out to Mr. Tree Trunk.

But he got a quick, flirty reply. "Hi man. You're fucking hot."

"Thanks," Frank said. Maybe it was the kid's age, or just that sheer cock size, but he didn't expect this easy rapport with the messaging. Frank revealed that he'd been edging all afternoon. Jake said he was taking a study break because he was really horny.

"Feel like coming over man? I'd love to pound your ass." The direct approach might not always work, but in Frank's worked up state, it was just his speed.

"Sounds hot," he wrote. "But I won't lie, that monster scares me."

"You a noob?" came the reply.

Frank had a sudden fear he'd killed the vibe and spoiled his chance to get laid. But his asshole would thank him, he decided. "Not to bottoming," the man replied. "I have some big toys, too."

"Hot," the college dude wrote. "I like breaking in new dudes. I won't hurt ya. Promise."

"That's tempting," Frank replied. "I'm so frickin horny."

"Me too man. Let's do this. My roommate is gone for the weekend." Jake sent his dorm name at one of the universities not far from where Frank lived. "I need to get back to my studying soon, but I wanna get my rocks off, bad."

It felt tawdry as hell, but the 32-year-old got cleaned up and dressed and made his way over to Jake's campus. Frank texted him when he was close, and Jake was down in the lobby waiting for him. The tall, almost beefy man blushed when he thought how transparent this was, being some college kid's booty call. But what the fuck, Jake was an adult, Frank was an adult, and it's not like anyone there knew the man.

"You're even hotter in person," Jake growled as they made our way to his room. He was wearing just some shorts and T-shirt and flip flops, with a college ball cap. He had a soccer player look about him, not a competitive one, maybe, but that tone, lean-muscled look accentuated by his ruddy cheeks and cute face. His body was buff for a college kid's, but his face looked younger.

Jake may have been in a rush, but Frank had to give him credit, he took his time. They sat on his twin dorm bed and made out, then lay back. The ex-jock had never made it with a dude this much younger than him, but the fact Jake had a massive cock gave that age differential a certain thrill. And when the college dude started tugging at Frank's sweatshirt, that put the man in a real bottomy mood.

"Fuck," Jake growled as he lifted Frank's arm and started feasting on the furry pit. The swipe of his tongue sent goosebumps down the bigger, more muscular body. Jake kissed along the chest, then munched at the other pit.

When they finally kissed again, both could feel the temperature rising. Frank reached down and massaged that fat boner in Jake's shorts.

"Wanna see it?" he asked. Boasting.

Frank nodded. "Please."

"Big muscle guy is a frickin size queen, aren't ya?" Jake wasn't a dom, not exactly. He mostly loved the physicality of sex. But he also knew he had 7 incredibly fat inches calling the shorts.

He undid his shorts and there in the flesh, Frank learned that in fact no Photoshop was involved. He was staring at the most colossal prick he'd ever seen or could imagine.

Like a hungry power bottom the big man scrambled to get down and lick it. He actually tried to work the head between his lips, but that cock was too fat.

Jake gently massaged my short hair and laughed. "Don't worry, dude, I've only met one guy who can suck me."

Frank Grisholm felt sad he wasn't that guy. And more than a little ashamed for his lust for that tool. The college kid was cute as fuck but it was the monster meat between his legs that had me acting like a slut. "OK if I lick some more?"

"Be my guest," Jake said, hands on his hips as the man laved him. The thing about dicks that big is they're generally not as hard as smaller cocks. Too much blood flow needed for all that vascular tissue. But as Frank licked him, Jake grew harder and definitely sported a fuck hardon now.

"On your back, man," he hissed. "I wanna eat your hot hole."

The big man did as instructed and when he pulled those meaty legs back, Jake actually whistled before getting down into place. He stared at Frank's pucker and gently ran his finger around it. "So nice... you have a little looseness." He looked up at the guy, a horny expresion on his face. "You been playing with your toys all day, huh?"

Frank nodded. "Yeah. But none of them are as thick as you, kid."

That made Jake smile. "Should be a tight fuck, then," he growled and dove in to lick the hole.

Frank loved every part of this. On his back in some goddamn college drom room getting a very eager and skilled rim job. He had to imagine Jake's endowment meant he had a good deal of experience, if he wanted it. Now he softly urged the college stud in a deep gravely voice, coaxing to lick him deep.

The rimming didn't last TOO long. Maybe five minutes. But Frank's hole felt alive and ready. There had been too much stimulation and edging and now he wanted it.

Jake wasn't giving him a chance to back out. At least not unless and until the big guy said no. He slathered on some milky viscous lube, and Frank realized he'd seen it in some toy play videos. The college kid was actually nervous as he pushed that first fat inch past Frank's ring.

The ex-footballer wanted this, bad. But the entry stung and he did his best to hold back a wince.

Jake looked on concerned but also majorly turned on. "Yeah, man, first time's a bitch," he said. "But you got it." He reached down and ran his hands along Frank's beefy furry front. "I'm in ya now, buddy. So just relax and let me in."

Frank took a couple of deep breaths until he decided the heavy breathing was making him tense up.

"Want some poppers?" Jake asked.

"Um, yeah," Frank said. Sometimes they gave him a headache afterwards, but that would be worth it if it allowed him to take this massive cock.

Jake walked as the big guy huffed the fumes. "You're just my fucking type, man," He said excitedly as he fisted that tree trunk meat and added some extra viscous lube.

Frank screwed the cap back on the vial and lay it down on the mattress. He nodded up at Jake.

The poppers rush coincided with the college kid's second entry. That humongous prick was boring right into that slick ass and Frank's body was letting it.

"Fuck!" the big man growled. "You're huge."

"You like huge," Jake said in his turned on voice. He pressed on, feeling a crazy snugness but not an outright clenching of the man's guts, like he usually did with noobies. Soon he felt his balls press against that muscle ass. "I was right, man. You're tight as fuck."

Frank had lost his hardon earlier but the idea he had that giant dong buried all the way up him turned him on and made his cock bone up. He reached down and scooped up some extra lube and applied it to his cock.

Jake was now sawing in and out. Not a lot. But priming the pump. "Not gonna last long today, I'm afraid," he grunted. "Too fucking tight."

"That's OK," Frank said.

Jake nodded down to the poppers. "Take another hit," he urged. "You'll need it."

The ex-jock did just that. Then enjoyed the wave of warmth in his body. Jake was fucking now. Heavy full strokes. It wasn't rough or hard or fast, but with a tree trunk dick, it didn't have to be. Hands down, it was the most intense fucking Frank Grisholm had ever experienced. He tugged at his regular-sized boner and felt jolts of pleasure. His prostate was downright flattened by that torpedo-tapered dong, which sawed over it over and over.

"Shit!" Jake hissed. As he came, that was the only time he lost control, his hips jerking harder and fast as that bazooka blasted deep inside Frank. He'd actually had bottoms pass out with that part, but Jake couldn't help himself. When he was mid-nut, nature took over.

Fortunately, that extra intensity pushed Frank to the hardest cum of his life. Pleasurable to the point of hurting as ropes of seed got pushed out.

Before the poppers wore off, Jake was pulling back, very slowly. With size comes responsibility, and Jake was always careful in the dismount, at least until he knew a bottom was well trained for some rougher stuff.

His eyes were fixated on Frank's well-fucked hole. "Damn, that's one hell of a gape!" he enthused. "Fucking beautiful."

Frank felt exposed and slutty but the fact this kid liked his wide-open cummy hole made him less self-conscious.

"I wish I had more time to play with that," Jake said softly, actually wistfully as his fingers traced the gaping rim. "Is my finger OK, man?" he asked.

Frank winced a little. "I'm a little tender. But go ahead."

Jake was like a kid in the candy store as he examined his handiwork. The man's pucker was a little red and a lot stretched, though it was closing back up before his eyes. Frank leaned back and watched that giant college dong shrink to a soft elephant trunk.

Jake looked at Frank with a leer. "You think you'd ever be up for cunt training, man? You have an amazing pussy."

Two years ago, Frank would have objected to those terms. Now, he was OK with them. "What do you mean, cunt training?"

Jake smirked. "I've given some guys real big pussy lips, just by fucking regularly." He added, "though some of the dudes have also used toys. Either way, it's hot as fuck."

"I dunno," Frank hissed. He'd loved everything about taking on the challenge of Jake's cock, but he didn't want to be a freak or anything.

"Just think about it, man," he urged. He pulled up his finger and licked off the fuck juice from it. "You'd have a lot of fun doing it."

Jake patted his meaty thigh. "Listen, I really do need to study for my midterm. But dude, that was incredible... I'm glad you hit me up."

"Me too," Frank said sheepishly, gathering his energy to get dressed again. The popper headache was coming on, but he'd been right: this was all worth it.

"Seriously man," Jake said as he slipped his shorts back on over that soft heavy, flopping meat. "Let me know if you want a repeat. I'm not looking to date or anything, but it would be hot to have a longer session."

"We'll see," Frank answered, but with an encouraging smile. Jake stepped up for one last kiss, then Frank was off.

The whole way home, the ex-jock's hole felt tender and used, but that very feeling made him smile.

#drakestories

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itsthewritergal · 2 years ago

Text

He’s got her - Mob!Bucky x reader

Summary: Getting involved with mob!Bucky was always going to end in trouble...

TW: Kidnapping, Angst, Mention of death, Death, guns, taunting, I don’t know what else... please let me know if I missed something :)

Bucky watched the world go by from his seat at the cafe, there wasn’t much he liked more than just letting the world wash over him, he didn’t have many days off but the ones he did he cherished. Most of the cafe staff just ignored him, offering him refills every hour, Bucky had assumed that the owner had told them to.

“Morning girls!” A cheery girl beamed strolling through the door,

“Y/N?!” The worker behind the counter said with a shocked look on her face

“In the flesh” She laughed, throwing her bag under the counter as she strolled behind, Bucky watched simply trying to figure out who this ‘Y/N’ was, he hadn’t seen her before “Hows it been?” She asked opening the till and counting the money inside.

“Not bad, mostly just regulars. Then we’ve got Winter Soldier in the window still”

“Don’t call him that” Y/N snapped, Bucky noted the change in temper in the strange girl,

“Why not everyone does” She scoffed,

“Don’t try your luck” Y/N said bluntly and Bucky finally put the pieces together, this was the owner of the cafe, she was younger than Bucky had anticipated. The cafe being one of the only businesses to have not asked Bucky for money to get them through, Bucky had just assumed it was owned by someone with experience.

“Refill?” The girl asked with a scowl on her face,

“I’m fine thanks” bucky responded bluntly,

“I’m so sorry about that, clearly she’s having a bad day. Can I get you a pastry or a cake as an apology?” Y/N said coming up to Bucky

“It’s ok doll, no apology needed” Bucky replied “Not many people are smiley around me” he chuckled

“Its her job to be smiley, mob boss or not” Y/N said bluntly, “You sure about that cake?”

“You’re not scared” Bucky said with a confused smile

“Scared of what?” Y/N replied

“Interacting with me”

“Oh” Y/N let out a laugh, “No offence but you’re sitting in a cake shop, on a pink plush chair. You don’t look very scary”Bucky was taken aback, nobody not even Steve was brave enough to speak to him like that, She turned picking up his empty mug “Last offer on that cake”

“Go on then”

“What flavour?”

“Surprise me”

— — — —

Bucky had made it into his routine, he’d do his morning ‘business’ then pass by the cake shop on the way back. He’d realised that Y/N worked most weekdays and that was why he hadn’t met her before, he’d only gone in on Sunday’s.

“Morning doll” He said strolling into the empty shop

“I’m going to have to start charging you rent” Y/N commented as she began to make his coffee.

“I could afford it” bucky smirked, placing a few big notes in the tip jar,

“Buck I’ve told you not to do that”

“And I’ve told you I want to” He said taking the cup with a smile. They had been arguing about it for weeks now, but Bucky loved it. There was something different in the air today, something Bucky couldn’t put his finger on, but he knew in his line of work not to ignore it.

“You ok today?” He asked trying to get answered directly,

“Fine” Y/N smiled turning her back to Bucky, who decided it was all in his head and turned to walk out the cafe “Bucky?” Y/N said gently, just before he reached the door

“Yes doll?” He said turning around instantly and swiftly making his way up to her,

“If someone was following you, how would you know?” She asked, Bucky studied her intently. There was something behind her eyes, something that scared even him.

“Who’s following you?” Bucky asked firmly

“Oh no, it’s just for a friend” Y/N brushed it off simply

“Doll you need to tell me”

“It’s nothing” She said with a fake smile “I promise”

— — — —

Weeks went by without another strange comment, Bucky didn’t like to worry but the conversation had unsettled him. He often sent his men past the shop just in case, but nothing ever seemed off.

“Morning doll” Bucky said opening the door, ready to great Y/N with an award winning smile

“Not my name” Another waitress said

“Where’s Y/N?” Bucky asked

“Sent a message last night asking me to cover all shifts for the next two weeks.” She said bluntly “Because clearly my time off is worth nothing” she huffed “What do you want?” “No notice?” Bucky asked remembering back to a time where Y/N said she liked to give at least two weeks for extra shifts

“Look I don’t get paid enough for this conversation. Do you want a coffee or not?” She said

“Not” Bucky snapped, his brain running a mile a minute as he climbed into his car. He drove down the streets he had a few times, he knew where Y/N’s apartment was. Not that he had ever been in there, but he had made it his business to know. The moment he got there he called the one person who could help him keep a level head.

“Steve, I need you to come to Y/N’s apartment now” He said, putting the phone down before he let Steve respond.

Within a few minutes both Steve and Bucky were standing outside Y/N’s front door,

“You sure about this?” Steve asked

“Not at all” Bucky said pushing the door gently, it swung open

“She didn’t lock it?” Steve commented “Told you something was wrong” Bucky said bluntly. He made his way through the apartment, stopping at the broken coffee table and the smashed glass on the floor.

“You shouldn’t be in here” A voice broke Bucky out his trance, he turned to find a short elderly man, standing at Y/N’s front door “Are you friends of Y/N’s” He asked “What happened to her”

“Three men, last night, they took her kicking and screaming. Shoved her in a car and left” “Why didn’t you call someone?” Steve said bluntly

“This neighbourhood, you don’t tell anyone” He said “You’re Barnes aren’t you?” He asked

“Yeah” Bucky nodded

“I know what you are” He said “I don’t have money, but Y/N said you were a good one at heart. Find her and don’t let her get hurt” The man said before disappearing back into his own apartment.

Bucky stood for a moment the hairs on his arms standing up, feeling out of control wasn’t something he was used to and it certainly wasn’t something he liked. Steve picked up on the feeling throughout the room.

“Go on then Buck, what’s the plan?” Steve asked trying to get his mind back on track,

“No idea” He admitted with a shake of his head.

“She means something to you?” Steve said, knowing Bucky had mentioned Y/N a few times before, he’d even ordered Sam to find out every single detail of her life. “She shouldn’t” Bucky said with a shake of his head

“But she does” Steve said filling in the silence

“It’s my fault she’s gone, I got too close. Thought I was untouchable for a moment”

— —- — —

Damp was all Y/N could smell, it invaded her nostrils as she pulled against the binds keeping her sat on a cool chair. The blindfold which covered her eyes gave no secrets away, not even a slither of light was let through. Whoever had taken her knew what they were doing, she hadn’t even seen their faces before she was grabbed, couldn’t even put up a fight.

“He’ll come” She heard a gruff voice state, she couldn’t figure out where the voice was coming from, it echoed and bounced off the walls

“Who’s there?” She called out, trying her best to keep her voice firm, all that responded was a rough laugh. “You can’t keep me like this forever” She shouted furiously

“Not forever sweetheart, just long enough to bring your Romeo Barnes out of the shadows” The voice said suddenly inches away from her face, she could feel the hot breath on her cheek, she felt something pull on her hair and then heard a chopping sound.

“What the hell are you doing to me?” She growled

— — — —

“Barnes, you need to see this” Peter said stepping into his office, not bothering to knock knowing Bucky would only be mad at his time-wasting when they still had no leads on Y/N.

“What is it?” Bucky snapped

“Got delivered just now, nobody on the doorstep, nobody around. No-one saw anything. But it’s addressed to you” He said, Bucky felt the dread fill his stomach he knew what it was about.

Ripping open the envelope he let out a strained shout as a clump of Y/N’s hair fell out, tied neatly together with one of the ribbons she had worn a few days before she disappeared. Following the hair fell a small note.

EYE FOR AN EYE BARNES.

“Buck?” Steve said gently,

“He’s got her”

“Who?”

“Walker” Bucky spat furiously

“Why?” Sam asked

“He must still think I was the one who made his wife leave” Bucky said

“She ran off with another man” Steve said confused

“I was the one who introduced them, he thought it was calculated” Bucky explained,

“That’s why he left?” Sam asked

“I didn’t want to put words in his mouth that’s why I didn’t say anything but” Bucky stopped himself, his fingers wrapping around his gun “He doesn’t get to have Y/N”

— — — — —

Y/N could hear the commotion, something was happening. Shifting in her seat she tried to loosen the rope that she was sure was cutting into her wrists. It didn’t dare budge.

“That won’t work sweetheart” The voice returned

“Just leave me alone” she cried, the echo in the room beginning to settle around her skull, nothing felt normal anymore. All she wanted to do was collapse into a deep sleep, her body screamed for movement,

“No can do” The voice taunted “See your little boyfriend is coming here right now and I’m about to kill him” It laughed

“He isn’t my boyfriend” Y/N spat furiously “He’ll kill you before you can blink” She added

“Let’s see darling” It sneered,

“Y/N?” Bucky’s voice called, yet another echo.

“Now darling I want you to watch this” the voice said suddenly tugging at the blindfold roughly leaving it around Y/N’s neck and letting her eyes adjust to the room, just as Bucky burst through the doors.

“I’m going to kill you” Bucky growled, the look in his eye terrified Y/N, it was a side she hadn’t seen before and one she knew she didn’t want to see again

“Nuh uh uh” Walker grinned “See Barnes, this isn’t about you killing me, this is all a mind game” He said sadistically “You can kill me, but then your pretty little Y/N has seen that and you won’t ever get her back. She’ll be gone forever” He let out a laugh, Bucky’s eyes fell on Y/N’s fear filled face,

“Y/N” He said softly, Y/N let out a sob.

“Buck please get me out of here” She cried suddenly terrified that these were her last moments

“Y/N I have to kill him” Bucky said gently

“She’ll never look at you again” Walker taunted

“Don’t look” He said firmly to Y/N, who looked at him like a deer in headlights “Buck—”

“I won’t do it if you’re looking” Bucky said firmly, Y/N couldn’t look away. If she did she gave permission for Bucky to kill someone, she couldn’t do that

“She won’t ever love you Barnes” Walker sneered

“Buck!” Steve shouted walking into the room,

“Make your choice Barnes” Walker said “Y/N” Bucky said his eyes focused on Y/N,

A shot sounded through the room, as Walker collapsed dead next to Y/N. Y/N screamed, Bucky turned to see Sam standing behind him, his gun still pointed at the body.

“I wasn’t about to let him do that to you” Sam said firmly, “I don’t play mind games”

“Thank you” Bucky muttered as he ran over to Y/N, helping Steve pull the ropes off of her shaking body, “You’re safe now, I’m not going to let anything else happen to you” Bucky promised

“He’s dead?” Was all Y/N could reply

“Don’t look” Bucky instructed shielding Y/N from the body, “You’re okay now” He said pulling her into his chest

“I thought I was going to die” She admitted,

“Never doll, not when you’re with me” Bucky said pressing a kiss to her forehead.

taglist

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#bucky fanfic #Bucky Barnes #Bucky angst #Buck #bucky #mob!bucky #mob!bucky x reader #mob!bucky fluff #mob bucky #mob!buck #mafia!bucky #mafia!bucky x reader #mafia bucky #bucky barnes x fluff #bucky barns imagine #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x #mob!bucky angst

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dankar-camoran · 2 days ago

Text

"I'm here to help."

Savlian Matius, dumbfounded and furious, glowers at the young man when this offer is made, completely at a loss as to how to convey to him that right now is not the time to offer "help." Help was needed when the Gates first opened, and the screaming hordes of Daedra poured out, the wave of death broken only by the leviathan that was their siege engine. Help would have been crucial when the walls were sundered, and the first fires lit the streets up as bright as the midday sun. The people who needed help weren't the ones who made it out alive, but the ones who were too infirm, too young, too slow, too unlucky, and were now currently well past the point of needing anything. At this moment, Kvatch doesn't need help. It needs to be put out of its misery.

Savlian was going to offer the youth some grace initially. At a glance, he looked like any of those who had saved themselves, ragged and messy but alive and not seriously hurt. But he didn't look like any of the townsfolk Savlian recognized, and his face is absent the fear, anguish, and exhaustion that is now characteristic of the surviving citizens of Kvatch. This boy is an itinerant fool doubtless trying to live out a childhood fantasy of being a hero. Even if Savlian was in a mood to accept help, he would sooner throw down his sword and give himself over to be rent limb from limb than to expect any meaningful aid from this idiot.

"Run away from here," is what he growls at last, when it becomes clear that the look on his face isn't enough to turn the stranger away, "I can't guarantee your safety this close to the gate."

The young man looks over at the Gate to Oblivion as Savlian gestures towards it. It is an open wound in the air, blazing all the colors of the sun as it ripples and crackles violently, almost in sync with the sound of thunder in the air. He turns away from it and rubs his eyes after a few moments, eyes strained from having gazed at it for even that long. Savlian might have been amused at this, had any shred of his sense of humor still remained with him. Now, however, it just irritates him further; this boy is offering help for a problem he can't even look directly at.

The Acting Captain of the Kvatch Guard turns his attention away from the object of his ire, not wanting this boy, already a low point of an already bad day, to be what distracts him from his death at the hands of the next group of monsters to emerge from Oblivion. He shouts an order to make ready when the Gate seems to shimmer the way it does every time it lets something through, and hears the sound of a blade being drawn behind him, and steals a glance back at the would-be helper, who has a short sword at the ready, and this is enough and more than enough.

"What the hell are you still doing here boy!? I told you to run! Back to the camp beneath the bluffs, or better still, all the way to Morrowind!"

The gate settles back to its regular state of chaotic flashing, ebbing, and flowing: no daedric invaders charge out at the moment. Everyone on this side of the gate may still live in relative peace for however much longer.

"I'm not going to leave without doing something to help. I'm actually looking for someone who's not in the camp, and somebody said he may still be trapped in the city."

How much of a fool is this child? Because every time he speaks he provides more to quantify. Savlian, whose patience was one of the earliest casualties of the day, is struggling to find the words to respond.

"If you don't remove yourself from this spot before we are attacked again, I swear by the Nine I will make sure I and my men live long enough to watch them rip you apart, starting with your fucking tongue! Fuck OFF!"

Finally, the stranger's expressoin shifts, from its look of infuriating sincerity into one of surprise and mild contrition. That's what it took to get him to see the point? Not everything he's seen up until this point, the destruction, the bodies, the yawning hell a stone's throw away? A bit of profanity?

"I'm sorry. I know it must seem hopeless. But that didn't stop Antus Pinder and his men, and I won't let it stop me."

Antus fucking Pinder. He really is a child, a boy with more stories in his head than sense. Savlian always hated this story, even as it was regaled by bards and poets and authors for his whole life, and well over a century prior. His mother had told it to him when he first asked, only she was a scholar of history, and provided details not known to most.

"You are not Antus Pinder. You shouldn't want to be Antus Pinder," He seethes, each word dripping with the rage of a man who has seen ten years' worth of death in one night, "because Antus Pinder's 'valiant defense of Kvatch' lasted all of three days against the Camoran Usurper. And when his militia of herders and laborers and shopkeepers was slaughtered, he alone was kept alive. They cut his eyelids out so that he was forced to see Kvatch utterly destroyed, and all it's people slaughtered. He was kept alive for years afterwards, and if you truly want to know what they did to him during that time, then by all means, walk into that Gate and the Daedra will show you."

Before Savlian can see if his efforts to scare the fool away have succeeded, there's a shout from Jesan, followed by the high-pitched screech of a group of scamps emerging from the Gate. He turns, barks an order to hold behind the palisades, and prepares for another skirmish.

The fight is over quickly enough. Had it been Clannfears or Dremora, there may have been casualities, but the hardier stock of Oblivion haven't been seen for a few hours now. Menien's party inside may still be alive and diverting attention away from Kvatch. They may find a way to close it yet.

But looking back at the ruined city --his home,-- the mixed bodies of Daedra and soldiers--his friends,-- the red skies above --he may never see the sun again-- and the Gate itself, Savlian spits on the ground and kicks a fresh kill at his feet. He shoos away any notions of hope, determined not to die disappointed.

"What the hell are you doing!?"

He snaps his head towards Merandil at this. The young mer is shouting at someone walking towards the gate as it frames him like the sun such that he's only a silhouette from this angle. "Savlian, it's the wanderer! He's going into the bloody thing!"

In an instant, Savlian throws down his shield and begins to run towards the youth. He had rebuffed him, insulted him, declared he would gladly watch him die all for the sake of getting him to run as far from Kvatch as was possible and living beyond today. But the thought of this stupid child full of heroic fantasies dying in hell, the last words ever spoken to him being so cruel, makes Savlian move with an energy he thought he'd never feel again. The Daedra can have him, but they will not take this boy.

He's almost within arm's reach when something catches his foot and he topples over, hitting his head hard on the ground. There's a ringing in his ears and faint voices behind him, as he tries and fails to stand himself back up. His last sight of the youth is of his body being engulfed by the membrane of the Gate. He drags himself forward, and screams at his men to stand down as they pick him up and begin to take him back behind the palisades. But they tell him the refugees need him, and there's nothing that can be done for the boy.

The boy. The youth. The child. the fool. The idiot.

Savlian never asked him his name

Hours pass. The other defenders hold firm against the periodic sorties from Oblivion as Savlian recuperates. The daedra are still deadly and ruthless, but their attacks come farther and fewer between. It's as if feeding Oblivion enough bodies is steadily slaking its thirst for mortal blood. Maybe if he walks through the Gate, that will be what causes it to finally close.

And then the Gate quakes and its membrane ripples like troubled water, and the defenders all await the horde that it must surely be about to spit out. The colors of the Gate swirl and brighten, and there's just enough time to look away before it becomes as luminous as the sun, and even more blinding. When it becomes safe to look again, the gate has collapsed on itself; the membrane is gone.

Two figures stand in its place. The first is Ilend Vonius, who had been a part of Menien's sortie into Oblivion. The second is the boy.

Savlian watches them approach him without even the faintest iota of how to reckon what he knows with what he sees. The Gate to Oblivion had made itself an incontrovertible fact for two days. It had brought forth nothing but death, and it stood to reason that entering it amounted to suicide. And yet there were two people who had done just that, and now were not just alive, but had outlived the Gate, defying it by their very existence.

Ilend's face still bears some amount of haunted shock, but it is outweighed by an overwhelming amount of relief, and even a grain of amusement as he catches sight of Savlian's expression, "I didn't think I'd ever see you again either, sir." His exhaustion is clear, but there's still a smile on his lips.

Savlian puts his hands on Ilend's shoulders and squeezes firmly, "We owe you more than could ever be paid, Illend. You, Menien, and everyone else who went in there to close that Gate."

Ilend shuts his eyes and breathes deep, clearly enjoying the lack of sulfer and ash in the air, "Thank you sir. But I'd say you owe him more. I certainly do." He gestures to the boy, and Savlian looks at him again, reevaluating that which he had dismissed so definitively.

The leather he wears is in tatters, with several straps dangling free from the arms and torso. One of his eyes is blackened, and there's an unmistakable scamp claw mark bleeding on his face. Whatever other wounds he has, Savlian does not see, because he is transfixed by the expression on his face: It's the same. Maybe not exactly the same, there's certainly exhaustion and maybe even some bit of horror, but there is still that look of earnestness as he waits to be addressed.

Letting go of Ilend, Savlian Matius reaches out to firmly grasp the boy's sword arm. "What is your name, son?"

"Scipio," his voice wavers slightly as he answers, so he clears his throat and says it again more resolutely, "Scipio Amicus. I'm looking for a priest."

#tes #elder scrolls #oblivion #don't like this one as much as the other things I've written but I'm glad it's done at least

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soul-controller · 1 year ago

Text

Home Improvement

Hey there everyone! In hopes of trying to convince more people to join my Patreon, I wanted to go ahead and post one of my favorite stories I've written onto Tumblr. If you're a fan of it, please feel free to click here to join because I love to occasionally dabble into stories like these...

* * * * *

As Timothy made his way into his bathroom to take a shower, there was an obvious sense of annoyance spread across his face in the form of a deep frown. Although he had just graduated early from college and returned home six months prior, his nosy and rather controlling parents were eager for him to either move back out or get a high-paying job so they could charge him for rent and utilities. Due to his parents’ persistence, the man wasn’t allowed the opportunity of having a break and just relaxing for a few months after four years of intense engineering courses. Instead, he was forced to immediately begin looking for a job.

* * * * *

This job search began just a week after Timothy had finally packed up his belongings and moved back home to his rural Midwestern town. During one of the days where he was forced to help run some errands with his father, Timothy found himself in a local hardware and general shop that had a help wanted sign taped to the front window. Of course, as soon as Timothy’s father got his desired items and reached the cash register, he couldn’t resist inquiring about the help wanted sign. As the bulky corn-fed cashier gruffly told them about their need for a new cashier, Timothy immediately tensed up as he knew what was going to happen next. Just as he had expected, his father immediately pushed the meek blonde-haired man closer to the counter while talking about how his son was in need of a job after graduating.

Upon hearing this, the cashier called up a manager to talk with Timothy as he finished ringing up the items that his father was purchasing. Before he knew it, Timothy had been taken to a backroom, finished an interview with the manager, secured the position, and even been given a start date that was in just 3 days.

As he walked out to his dad’s car to share the news, Timothy tried to mentally prepare himself for the impending disagreement with his highly argumentative father. Given the fact that he had no “manly” pastimes like manual labor, he would literally be a fish out of water if he was forced to work at the hardware store. But no matter how hard he tried to explain this fact, Timothy found his father unwilling to budge on the prospect of a new job. In fact, his father even gave him an ultimatum - take the job and work there or move out and live elsewhere. Knowing that his closest living relatives were his redneck grandparents that lived down in Kentucky, this left the openly gay man with little to no options. In fact, as Timothy slowly nodded his head and agreed to take the job, his father stated the same thing to him while taking the opportunity to make a few jabs at his son’s sexuality.

“No offense kid, but it would be nice for you to become a bit more manly from this job. I mean, it’s no wonder you can’t ever find yourself a boyfriend when you’d rather play video games and mess around with Legos,” his father said with a hearty chuckle, finally putting the car into drive and allowing Timothy to escape his brand new personal hell (at least for those next 3 days).

However, by June, Timothy hadn’t learned to become more of a man’s man from working at the hardware store. Inversely, it had only reaffirmed his raging homosexuality as he found himself constantly thirsting over the hunky clientele that ranged from hot burly dads to hunky construction workers that stopped in to replenish their materials on occasion. As he stood at the register and watched as the men lifted their heavy items up from their carts and onto the counter, Timothy was constantly enamored by how their biceps and pectorals bulged against their too-tight shirts along with the slight reveal of their hairy stomachs as they lifted the items up high enough to reach the counter.

Due to the constant flexing sessions that he was always witnessing, the pale man was constantly thankful for the counter that helped conceal his near-constant boners. Given the fact that he was in an extremely conservative town in the Midwest, it seemed likely that this would be the closest he’d get to any real and personal intimacy with a man (at least without the high risk of being hate-crimed) until he saved up enough money to move out and jump into the next phase of schooling for his electrical engineering career.

Although it wasn’t surprising that being back in this rural town was impactful to the man’s confidence in terms of his sexuality, Timothy was quite certainly shocked by how detrimental returning home was to his mental health. In fact, it had gotten to the point where he was so depressed that he found himself wishing at night that he could no longer have to fear showing love and affection towards men.

* * * * *

Watching as steam finally began to rise up above the shower curtain, Timothy finally stopped himself from traveling down memory lane. He only had 45 minutes to finish getting ready and eat some food before his shift started, so he definitely needed to get in and out of the shower as quickly as possible. As such, the man quickly pulled off his shirt, shorts, and underwear until he was completely nude. Taking a moment though, he opted to take one look at himself in the bathroom mirror and observe his features.

Much like every other day though, as soon as his eyes stared into his reflection, he was quite unimpressed by what he saw. Not only was his body lacking in any form of muscle definition, but his pale complexion made him look even more frail and weak. Despite having a gorgeous set of light blue eyes, they were not appealing enough to compensate for the man’s patchy facial hair, bulbous nose, and crooked teeth. Continuing down his body, he immediately cringed as he stared at his definition-less chest and saw the thick patch of brown chest hair that stuck out like a sore thumb on his body. Although it was incredibly unattractive, Timothy couldn’t bring himself to shave it off as he believed that he would look practically invisible without that hair to bring in a much needed pop of color.

Even though he was disappointed with the vast majority of his body though, there was one part that he wasn’t ashamed of - his cock. Looking down, he stared at his 5” flaccid cock and couldn’t resist allowing a slight smile to form on his face. While this was certainly an impressive feat for the blonde twink to have, it was even more hot to him when thinking about how long and girthy it got once he was hard. This was yet another reason why he was thankful for the cubby hole that was underneath the counter at work, as it was able to easily conceal the 9” cock that would proudly jut out of his pants no matter how hard he tried to conceal it.

Although this was certainly an impressive thing in Timothy’s eyes and something that he was actually happy about, the concept of having a long cock was quite the double-edged sword. Given the impressive size, he was quite a hit on Grindr while he was in college, but by the time Timothy would send the desired selfie to the person interested in hooking up, the conversation would immediately die and he’d end up spending yet another night alone. As he took a moment to observe it for one more moment, he silently wished for the opportunity to finally lose his virginity before entering the shower and preparing for the inevitably boring shift he was going to have.

After finally finishing up, putting his uniform on, and getting a quick bite to eat, Timothy finally made his way out of the house and drove to his workplace. Luckily enough, he had a few minutes to spare and thus opted to try and hype himself up by blasting some loud pop music in his car to try and keep his energy up. The store was a black hole of Timothy’s positivity, especially due to the gross fluorescent lighting and the near constant country music that played through the store’s speaker system. But as he checked his watch and saw that he only had two minutes to spare, the man finally turned off his car and made the agonizing yet short trek into his personal hell for the next 6 hours.

For the next two hours, Timothy’s pop song pick-me-up did little to save him from becoming miserable almost immediately. The clientele for the majority of the shift so far had been older elderly couples that had purchased a few items and then loved to complain to Timothy about “his lazy generation”, so it was safe to say that he was understandably ready to go home already. But luckily, Timothy was able to get some much needed eye candy shortly after passing the two hour mark as a shaggy haired blonde jock came into the store. Immediately upon hearing the man’s dopey and dim-witted voice ask for directions towards the clothing section, the cashier’s cock rose to attention as Timothy smiled and pointed him in the proper direction.

Upon hearing the jock thank him and refer to him as “bro”, it wasn’t a surprise that Timothy’s cock almost immediately began to dribble out pre-cum for the next 20 minutes while he continued to observe him in between customers. This also wasn’t helped by the fact that the jock decided that he wasn’t interested in using the store’s dressing room and instead peeled off his shirt to show off his ripped torso while trying out a series of tank tops. Although he could have watched the man change for hours, the sudden clearing of a throat near him caused Timothy to finally turn back towards the checkout lane.

Immediately, he found himself staring face-to-face with a striking woman. Although he had no interest in her due to the fact that she wasn’t a man, Timothy could easily notice how gorgeous the woman was due to her long and wavy brunette hair, impressive makeup that allowed her eyes to look incredibly doe-eyed, and a curvy figure that was struggling to stay within the confines of a tight flower-patterned sundress.

“Oh hello there,” Timothy said, attempting to hide his blushing towards the stripping jock with a wide smile. Looking down, he watched as the woman placed her basket of items onto the countertop and flashed back a bright white smile towards the cashier.

“Hi there. I was wondering if you’d be able to help me make sure I’m getting the right stuff,” she said, her voice in an incredibly cheerful tone that immediately caused Timothy to not feel so dour.

“Uh, I’m not really the best person to ask about this stuff, but I can try my best to help you out I guess,” Timothy said, that wide smile shrinking into a smaller one as he leaned down towards the basket and pulled the items out. In doing so, he found himself staring at a bucket of screws, a few common tools, and a large handheld drill.

“Oh that’s ok, my husband sent me a list of things to get. I just want someone to make sure I’m not misreading anything,” the woman responded, pulling her phone out of her purse and beginning to unlock it.

In hopes of trying to make some small talk and allow the time to pass a bit faster, Timothy found himself trying to engage in more conversation as she scrolled through her text messages. “So, what are you doing with all of this stuff,” he inquired, looking up from the counter and towards the woman.

“Well, my husband’s been wanting to create a back patio and deck for our house for a few years now. So now that he’s got a huge increase in customers at his business, he finally decided that he was going to make it over the summer. His goal is to finish it by the 4th of July, but I honestly don’t know if he’ll finish it in time,” she said, finishing her sentence with a light chuckle that only made her seem more bubbly in Timothy’s eyes.

“Ah nice, that’s cool. My parents have a back patio at their house and it’s really nice,” he responded, his tone growing increasingly chipper with each exchange they had between each other. “You said your husband got a huge increase in customers at his business right? If you don’t mind me asking, what does he do,” he further inquired, his still-horny mind from the shirtless jock dude making him eager to paint a mental portrait of this mysterious handyman husband.

“Oh no, it’s totally fine. He’s a personal trainer, he runs a business out of the local gym here and also through Instagram and stuff. I guess you could say he’s a bit of an influencer, but not really since he’s terrible with technology,” she continued, flashing a wide smile that once again made Timothy’s workplace not feel so drab and boring for the moment.

Upon hearing the concept of her husband being a personal trainer, Timothy was back to being rock hard from underneath the counter. Letting his mind run wild, he envisioned the most attractive and muscular man possible, thinking about how great it must be to be with someone like that. In many ways, Timothy was jealous of the woman, but he was also happy for her due to her seeming like a nice down-to-earth lady.

“Ah here it is,” the woman cheerfully said, breaking the horny gay man out of his inner thirsting as she handed the phone over to Timothy to show him the text. Taking his time, the man slowly checked and verified that each item that the woman had grabbed was correct. But as he did so, he also took the opportunity to scan through the messages that he had sent both prior and after the list text. From doing this, he was able to find out the hunky man’s name: Liam.

Just as Timothy was able to finally gather that information about the man’s name, the woman’s phone suddenly buzzed as a text message came through. At that instant, the phone automatically pulled Timothy down to the most recent message, which was a brand new text from Liam that he couldn’t resist reading.

Liam: Hey babe, just got done at the gym. Gonna wash up and head home. I’ve been thinking about you during my entire pump… 🍆

Right after he finished reading that message, the phone once again vibrated as a brand new image suddenly appeared and allowed Timothy to see what the woman’s husband looked like.

Given the reveal, Timothy felt his dick throb from underneath the counter as his dirty mind envisioned the hunky tattooed man fucking the giddy and cheerful woman in an extremely dominant fashion. Apparently, this vision was able to elicit a shift in Timothy's expression as the woman curiously asked what was wrong.

Breaking himself out of that horny mindset, the man was understandably flustered about how to respond. “I- um, your uh, husband sent you a message,” Timothy stammered out, handing the phone back to the woman and allowing her to gasp and blush before closing the phone and tucking it back into her purse. “But uh, those are all of the correct items he asked for. So yeah, we can go ahead and get you checked out,” he continued, attempting to change the subject while trying to get his cheeks to no longer look flush.

Upon finishing ringing up the items, Timothy quickly announced the total and proceeded to the payment phase as the woman, equally bashful, inserted her card and entered her PIN code. While this was going on, the pale gay man’s mind was going wild with continued visions of Liam completely nude. But instead of envisioning him with the brunette woman, Timothy had instead inserted himself into the visions, allowing the hunk to easily seduce and fuck his tiny ass while making Timothy worship his muscles.

As the payment went through and the receipt finally began to print, there was one lingering thought that was running through the cashier’s head. I would literally do anything to have a life with a guy like that. They seem so genuinely happy and in love with each other, why can’t I ever have something like that for myself? But as he saw another customer finally begin to join the line, Timothy forced himself to push aside that thought. Quickly grabbing onto the receipt, the man extended it outwards for the woman to grab as he told her to have a great day. But as soon as she gripped onto the receipt, Timothy’s vision went completely dark and he seemed to be enveloped into nothingness.

Out of nowhere though, an all-too familiar voice suddenly was picked up on and made Timothy feel confused. “Excuse me ma’am, you dropped your receipt,” he heard, which caused himself to finally return to consciousness and open his eyes. Upon doing so, the man audibly gasped as he found himself standing at the other side of the counter and staring at his own body.

“Wha, what’s going on?” he said, his voice wavering as he began to hyperventilate in complete shock. Why does my voice feel weird and sound incredibly soft? As he felt a slight weight tugging against his left elbow, Timothy darted his eyes downward, which caused him to suddenly see a light pink purse hanging from it. Beginning to piece things together, the man quickly looked around further, taking note of the thin and flowy sundress he was now wearing, the perky and sizable breasts that were threatening to spill out of that aforementioned sundress, and the long wavy hair that kept falling into his face every time he leaned downwards. He had somehow swapped bodies with the female customer!

Although he was understandably confused by what was going on, that confusion was further elevated as he found that the woman who had swapped bodies with him seemed unaware of anything that had happened to him. In fact, Timothy’s usual pessimistic and dour mood was on full display as if she was the real version!

“Uh nothing is going on lady. You bought your items and then dropped your receipt before spazzing out for no reason. I’ve got a bit of a line forming, so I’m gonna have to ask you to move aside so I can start helping others,” the woman-turned-cashier coldly said, immediately telling the next customer to move forward so “he” could begin scanning them.

In complete shock, Timothy gripped onto the three bags that the woman had purchased and sort of slowly moved away from the register. Throughout the few strides he made towards an empty section near the front of the store, Timothy found himself immediately stumbling due his new footwear: a pair of white platform wedge sandals. While it seemed as though the woman had naturally adapted to believing like she was a man and acting like the real Timothy, the brand new married woman hadn’t been afforded the same luxury.

Due to this, Timothy found himself curious and somewhat eager to get more acquainted with his new form and thus decided to head towards the bathrooms inside the store. Although he almost nearly ran into the men’s restroom, he was able to successfully stop himself before trouble ensued and head towards the women’s restroom. Upon making sure that no one else was in the restroom, he locked the door behind him and set down the bags of items against one of the walls. Upon doing so, the man gingerly made his way towards the mirror and watched in awe as the woman’s curvy figure and gorgeous face were reflected back at him. No matter how hard he tried to pinch himself (and his new dainty and hairless arms) in hopes of discovering this to be some strange dream, the desired result didn’t occur for the incredibly confused man.

So for several minutes, Timothy playfully tested out his new body in a multitude of ways. He expressed countless emotions to see how they manifested onto the cute face of a woman and took note of how annoying long hair could be despite enjoying running his fingers through the wavy brunette locks. Due to his more curvy figure as well, he couldn’t resist running his hands up his dress and squeezing his large breasts and pillowy ass cheeks to adapt to his new hourglass figure. Upon doing this, the man grew curious further and decided to experiment by breaking into a jog in place to feel the sensations he would now be forced to get used to. Although it was certainly not great to feel such strange areas of heft in comparison to his skinny and frail body, Timothy believed that he could most certainly get used to it in time as he spent more and more time as a member of the opposite sex.

Before he could dive further into exploring his new form though, a sudden vibration emerged in Timothy’s new purse. Unzipping it, he pulled the purse lips open and reached in with his well-manicured pink nails. As they finally grazed against the woman’s cell phone, he gripped onto it and pulled it out. Clicking on the power button, he watched as the home screen informed him of a brand new text from Liam. Although he had no idea what the woman’s passcode was, FaceID came to the rescue as he was granted access to his new phone and quickly opened up the new text message.

Liam: Hey babe, is everything ok? You read the message but never responded.

Although he knew that he was talking about his wife, Timothy’s heart couldn’t resist fluttering upon realizing that Liam was now talking about him. As such, he was quick to fire off a message to try and explain the delay

Timothy: Yeah, sorry about that. I was dealing with some issues at the hardware store.

Liam: Oh ok, do I need to come down there?

Upon envisioning the concept of the hunky personal trainer coming to his rescue, Timothy would have surely been rocking a thick and throbbing boner. But now that he was a woman, this sensation was now a deep tingling from the inner depths of his crotch. Giddy at the attention from his new husband, instant flirtation immediately came to his mind that quickly translated into text.

Timothy: No, but I certainly wouldn’t be mad at seeing you sooner rather than later.. 👀

Although he wasn’t intending on beginning a sexting exchange with his new husband, Timothy’s words seemingly spurred Liam into action as Timothy soon found his phone bombarded by a text and video.

Liam: Ask and you shall receive babe! 😜 I’m always down to please you Cassie, and as you can see, I clearly miss you too… 😳

While Timothy was most certainly excited to check out the video that Liam had sent, his attention was immediately caught by the fact that he now knew his new name. Cassie, you definitely seem like a Cassie, he thought to himself as he turned into the mirror and admired the girly visage and body. Now secure in his new identity, the brand new woman took the opportunity to click on the video and allow it to play.

Cassie: Wow you’re such a fucking tease, why did you have to end it right before the best part? 😩

Liam: I mean, how else am I gonna encourage you to come home ASAP? I’m needy and want you so badly…

Feeling that wave of pleasure coursing through his body once more, Timothy was eager to continue on with the teasing.

Cassie: I want you so badly too babe. I’ve been thinking about you a lot too…

Liam: Prove it.

Being egged on by the sense of a challenge, Timothy decided to become even more of a tease to the horny man. Pulling open the camera, he began to record himself slowly pulling down his sundress before suddenly wagging a finger at the camera and abruptly ending the recording. Upon sending the video off, Timothy couldn’t resist chuckling as Liam rapidly typed out a response.

Liam: C’mon babe, gimme some more. I’ve sent you several compromising photos and videos so far. You’re in a public restroom, lock the door and give me a little bit of a show!

Feeling incredibly eager to both please his new husband while also being encouraged by how much he lusted over his wife, Timothy once again verified that the door to the bathroom was locked before finally deciding to further explore his body. Gingerly, he slipped off the sundress and allowed it to land in a clump on top of his platform sandals and partially slump onto the tiled floor. Although he felt an inner desire to pull off his bra and take a look at his tits, the concept of struggling to pull back on the bra left him quick to abort the idea. So at first, he quickly snapped a few photos in just his bra and panties before sending them off.

Since he knew that Liam would surely be begging for more though, Timothy furthered the fun and decided to pull down his panties and take the opportunity to record himself exploring his new genitalia. As such, as soon as he pressed record and began to run his fingers along the lips of his new pussy, Timothy couldn’t resist moaning and uttering Liam’s name as he envisioned the hunky personal trainer putting every inch of his clearly sizable manhood into his feminine folds.

Upon finishing recording the video, Timothy quickly sent it off and admired his figure some more while awaiting his husband’s new response. Not surprisingly, it only took a minute after the message was delivered for Liam to send another text response with an accompanying photo.

Liam: Oh fuck yeah babe, you better feel up that tight little cunt and think of me. I’m tired of waiting, get dressed and come home immediately. The sooner you get here, the sooner I can eat you out before we get onto the main event…

Reading the message in conjunction with the open-mouthed photo that his husband had sent, Timothy was just as over the texting as Liam was. Although he had no idea what was going to happen when it came to having sex with a pussy, his desires and lust for the man was too much to resist any longer. So as he pulled back on his panties and the sundress, Timothy took one last look into the mirror before zhuzhing up his hair.

As soon as he would exit this bathroom, he would forever leave behind his old life as a pale and frail gay virgin. Although there was a slight twinge of loss towards his years of hard work when it came to college, none of that would matter if he had no one to hold him at night and treat him with the love and respect that he deserved. So although he wasn’t entirely the biggest fan of losing out on his impressive cock and becoming a woman, he ultimately viewed it as a necessary loss to get everything that he’s wanted in life. After leaning down and grabbing onto the bags of items that her husband had wanted, the brand new Cassie eagerly unlocked the door and stepped into her new life.

Making her way out of the hardware store, the woman’s hips naturally swayed and allowed her juicy ass to draw all of the attention of the other shoppers (as best as it could from her gorgeous and prominent rack). As she approached the front door of the store, Cassie slowly turned around and gave a light wave to the bored-looking cashier. Not surprisingly, his wave back was not enthusiastic in the slightest as Timothy quickly did that and went back to taking care of the blonde-haired jock who had a basket full of tank tops resting on the counter.

Turning back on her heels, the woman finally made her leave and slowly pressed the fob of her car keys until her car revealed itself to her. Finally approaching it, she quickly opened the backseat door and deposited the three bags before finally entering the driver’s seat and turning on the engine. Quickly pulling open her phone, she pressed the “Home” location on her phone’s GPS and allowed the directions to begin. As she sat there for a moment, a wide smile formed on her face as she realized just how great this life was going to be for her.

As if on cue, a loud ding echoed through the car’s speakers as another text message from her husband filled Cassie’s car. Opening it up, she couldn’t help but gasp at what she both read and saw.

Liam: I love you so much babe, I can’t wait to fuck your pussy so good tonight. Just think of all of the fun we’ll have this summer once I finish building that patio deck for you…

Not surprisingly, Cassie’s mind began to play the video on an endless loop. With each instance of watching her husband bite his lip in an incredibly erotic way and shake his sizable bulge for the camera, she found herself quite desperate to get her hands, mouth, and pussy all over his glorious manhood. As such, the woman instantly pulled her car into reverse before speeding off to have some quality time with the absolute love of her life.

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#male transformation #male to female #gender change #gender swap #body swap

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