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envy-of-the-apple · 7 months ago

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Ruptured Amethyst; Splintered Tanzanite

Dark!Satosugu x reader - Yakuza Au

Synopsis: In hopes of paying off your debt, you start working for two dangerous men. Soon, you realize they want more than money.

Word count: 9.2k

(Warnings: dark content, sexual coercion, dubcon, noncon, oral sex, piv sex, threesomes, gun, blood, violence) Ageless blogs will be blocked. Minors DNI

In this job, you quickly learned that it's better to just keep your head down.

Do what you were called for and leave. Do nothing but sit on your computer and look at numbers. Stepping out of your makeshift boundaries led to nothing but trouble.

It worked perfectly like that for the first few weeks you were brought here. The other workers never bothered you, and it took you a moment to realize they were in the same boat as you were: owing a debt. You wouldn’t quite say things were peaceful; every so often, one of Geto’s men would hurl someone through a table, but things were manageable.

And then Gojo came back.

You hadn’t met Gojo, yet. He was overseas on a business trip when Geto brought you in. You hadn’t met him, but you’d heard enough to make you want to stay away from him. Ijichi had told you enough stories to make you want to sink into the floor altogether. You just had until the end of the year until your debt was paid. It was the beginning of September, right now. Surely, you could avoid him until then, right?

“Ah, you’re the one Suguru was talking about.”

It was your fault. It was entirely your fault. Ijichi had begged you to stay after work for a bit longer and desperate to pay the debt off, you had agreed. No one else was supposed to be in the office besides you and him.

But Gojo didn’t follow other people’s rules. It'd take you a while before you fully understand that.

You could do nothing but stand there, wobbling in your heels as Gojo loomed over you. His sunglasses were tilted, cresting over his nose as he scrutinized you. You clutched the laptop closer to your chest, as though it’d save you somehow.

Gojo didn’t look dangerous. If you had seen him on the street, you would have assumed he was a model. Tall, long hands, pretty features. Gojo doesn’t look dangerous. Gojo is dangerous. He doesn’t need the gun (casually on his side, right in your line of sight) to prove it.

You say nothing. You don’t know what to say. So far, you’ve only dealt with Geto. Geto with his fake smiles and soft words of thinly veiled threats. As intimidating as Geto was, you felt safe enough with him to answer his questions. Speak when spoken to.

Gojo was uncharted territory. Should you speak? Should you greet him? Should you get on your hands and knees? Gojo was new. You had to deal with something new, alone.

You opt to stay silent, hoping that’s the best move. It’s not. Above you, Gojo’s clicking his tongue. He leans down, stooping his head low to get a better view of your face. You stare at him until it gets too much and you’re turning away. He likes that even less, grabbing you by the chin so you’re facing him again.

“You mute or somethin’?” He asks, tilting your head like he’s assessing you.

“No,” you finally murmur. It was a question, correct? He won’t get mad if you answer his questions.

He doesn’t seem mad. But he doesn’t seem happy, either. If anything, he looks a little disappointed.

“I really don’t get it,” he’s talking, but it’s more like he’s saying his thoughts out loud, “Suguru would not shut up about you. Thought I was gonna see something more exciting. You’re so...”

He trails off as though even describing you would be a waste. The thought that Geto speaks about you to his partners scares you, but you’re wise enough not to pry. Instead, you wait. Waiting often works. You’ve been cornered by Geto’s men (before they knew he was the one who brought you), most just want to intimidate you, they get a kick out of fear. When you give them what they want, they usually leave you alone.

Gojo doesn’t leave, even when you’re sure your horror is printed on your face. Obvious to even the blind. Instead, he leans back, eyes trailing down your outfit. Despite how most of the stuff done here was off the record, Geto still prioritized a professional workplace. You were expected to put on a clean blouse and skirt every day.

You yelp when Gojo tugs on the fabric of your skirt, bunching the material on your thighs. Forgetting where you are, who you’re with, you grab his wrist.

“Don’t be like that,” Gojo chides as though you were being the unreasonable one, “I just wanna look. Seriously, what was that guy going on and on about—”

“Satoru.”

Geto’s voice stops the both of you. He’s leaning against the wall, watching the two of you with a less than impressed look. You’re relieved when he’s more focused on Gojo than you.

“Sugu!” Gojo cheers, a complete 180 from his past demeanor. He lets you go and you sink against the wall in relief. “I’m home!”

“I can see that,” Geto retorts, but there’s an odd fondness laced in his tone that you’d never heard before.

The kiss they shared was violent. Tongue and teeth and messy. Gojo reached up, scrunching Geto’s hair, dragging him closer. Respectfully, you glanced away. You don’t yet leave. You know better than that, especially now that Geto is here.

“How many times have I told you to stop harassing our employees?” Geto sighs, once he’s pulled away. His tone is filled with exasperation, as though he were talking to a child.

“I didn’t do anythin’,” Gojo responds. When you finally turn back, Geto is shaking his head.

He smiles at you.

“Apologies, my dear,” he states, “you can leave. Remember to tell Ijichi you’re going.”

You eagerly nod before scurrying away. You can hear Gojo scoff, another murmur from Geto. You couldn’t care less what they’re saying, more than happy to grab your things, bid Ijichi goodbye, and leave.

Keep your head down, and don’t ever bother with what they are doing.

⟡

Technically, you weren’t in debt, your father was.

He had close ties to the underground. You weren’t sure of the details, you were so young when your mother left with you in tow. She was always stingy with the details, but she never failed to remind you that your father was a stupid man who worked with dangerous ones. She passed away right after you graduated from college. You’d mourned her.

Now, a part of you felt grateful she passed just before she saw your life fall apart.

They came in the middle of April. You remember that day purely because of the flower blossoms littering the sidewalk, the first sign of blooming spring.

There were three other men besides Geto that day, and you hadn’t known his name back then—just the man with long, pretty hair. They were all waiting for you, loitering right beside your home. When you hesitated, slowed to a stop, the man with long hair smiled at you. Geto calls your name. When you don’t respond, his smile widened.

“That is who you are, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” you nervously said, “sorry, but—but who are you all?”

He introduces himself. The other three don’t bother. You don’t yet realize that they’re only henchmen, mere puppets for Geto.

“Apologies, but this is a rather sensitive subject. Can we talk someplace private?”

You don’t want to let these men into your home, but his soft words and intimidating company coax you into agreeing. You lead them up the steps, praying to God that you were wrong about this—whoever they were. When you unlock the door, only Geto follows you. The rest wait outside. You don’t know if that’s better or worse.

He seats himself right on the sofa. It’s your apartment, and yet his mere presence makes you feel like he’s the owner. You loiter next to the door, twiddling your thumbs.

“Would you like tea?”

He tilts his head. “Aren’t you a polite one?”

It was more for you than for him—scurrying to the kitchen, away from his searing purple eyes. It’s a reprieve to start the burner, pour water into the pot. You take as much time as you can, but eventually, you have to come out.

Geto says nothing when you place the cups down. He takes it, humming at the taste. You don’t touch your cup.

His tone is soft. His words aren’t.

Your father did far worse than work with dangerous men. He’d stolen from them. He was already dealt with, his punishment had sent him careening off the Earth far sooner than your mother. Still, the topic of the missing money was still there.

Something that had fallen onto you, his next of kin.

You were already crying once Geto finished. Your body is wracked with sobs. You can barely suck in a breath.

“Please—please,” you’re already saying, “he—we—I swear we never received any sort of money from him.”

He takes your hand within his own, curling his fingers around them. Coming from anyone else, it would have been a nice gesture.

“I’m aware,” Geto comforts, “we know you haven’t been in contact with your father for more than a decade.”

His fingers are warm. They trace your cheek as he gently wipes away your tears.

“But in this line of business, family matters, no matter how estranged, my Dear.”

You look at him through your tears. He’s beautiful. Long black hair. If you touched it, you bet it would feel like silk within your fingers.

It’s his eyes that truly suck you in. Purple. It’s a rare eye color, you’ve never seen someone with purple eyes until now. They resemble amethyst, unpolished, but still just as beautiful.

“My partner would have much less...humane ways of dealing with this situation,” Geto continues, “but I think you could be far more useful warm rather than cold, do you agree?” You shrivel in your spot, already having an inkling to what he’s saying. It’s not like you haven’t already figured out where this was going. You’ve heard the stories of what dangerous men do to those who’ve wronged them—to the vulnerable girls who accidentally trip and fall into their trap, forced to work in brothels and debase themselves all for the sake of keeping them rich.

He laughs right then. It’s rich, deep, startling you out of your misery.

"Come now, it's the 21st century."

Geto smiles. Fake. Unsafe.

"Women are worth far more than just their bodies."

It turns out that even the Yakuza had paperwork.

It was a menial deskjob, on the surface, at least. If you don’t think too hard about who you’re working for, it could be a regular office. It’s not like any of the work you are provided with is illegal, but you doubt you’d put it down on your resume.

Your education had saved you. Ironic that it was your father who instilled your desire to learn.

If you don’t think too hard about it, your new ‘job’ wasn’t horrible. As notorious as they were, your new employers weren’t downright cruel. You still got paid. You had a contract. Things could honestly be a whole lot worse.

It was still very hard to get used to, especially in the beginning.

Something you learned very quickly was that the men around here did not like it when women had an attitude. You were far too meek to have one, but the other few women who worked with you became your teachers, showing you exactly what the men would do if you didn’t stay in line. You were more than happy to listen, and even then, your eagerness to learn didn’t help. In order for the lesson to truly sink in, you needed trial and error.

You stepped out of line exactly once. And then you never did it again.

It had been an accident. You’d forgotten that Geto had an important meeting that day. You knocked on his door, shuffling some documents in your hand. It was muscle memory to just go in because he’s never said anything but come in before.

They’d all stared at you, eyes lingering up and down your body. One of them grins. Immediately, you look at Geto. Horrified. Ready to grovel at his feet if need be.

His eyes flashed dangerously. Purple turned into sharp magenta knives. Geto tilted his head.

“Come here, dear.”

You take one step. Another. Then another. The way they look at you makes your stomach twist and sink but Geto only looks at you expectantly. When you linger at his side, his lips quirk.

His grip on your waist is gentle as he guides you into his lap. Your cheeks burn, but you don’t dare move, not even when the men start laughing at the free show. Geto only curls a hand on your waist, keeping you in place as he leans back again.

“Continue, gentlemen.”

The rest of the meeting continues with you on Geto’s lap. You don’t look at any of them, hands balled into fists at your sides. You feel naked. The air within the room is stifling. You refuse to look anywhere else but the floor.

The conversation goes back to business. Despite the compromising situation, he put you in, Geto’s hands don’t wander. He's content to keep his fingers on your waist until the room filters out and everyone leaves.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Geto.” You murmur, your voice barely louder than a whisper.

He doesn’t answer, at least not to that. He just sighs, sinking into his seat. Still, Geto doesn’t let you get up. Not yet. He waits until you’re looking at him, still smiling that fake smile.

This had been a punishment. The next time you made a mistake, you doubt you’d be let off so easily.

“Learn quickly, my dear.”

You nod. You apologize again. When Geto finally lets you go, you are quick to stumble away, pushing your way out the door. Purple eyes follow you out. You don’t think they stop looking until you’re out of the room, curled into your desk, steadying your heartbeat.

You stepped out of line exactly once. You never did it again.

Despite being under Geto, technically, Ijichi is your direct superior. You thanked the Gods for it. Ijichi was the only person here you were certain didn’t have blood on his hands. He was in a similar situation as you were; stuck working off a debt that he didn’t owe. You two bonded on your shared misery. He was the one reprieve you had in your new life.

Unfortunately, now that Gojo was back, Ijichi was far busier. It gave you little time with him. You suppose you were always welcome to join them, but considering your first encounter with Gojo, you’d much rather not.

It’s not like you hadn’t had similar encounters before Gojo's arrival. In the very beginning, one of Geto’s men tried something remarkably similar. You can still remember his hand on your hip, his other hand slowly unbuttoning your shirt while other men stood to the side laughing.

It hadn’t lasted long.

You didn’t realize he was shot until he was already on the ground, twitching in pure agony. He screamed and cried louder than you had. Blood was already dripping to the floor.

Geto had already tucked away the gun, striding away as though nothing happened. He didn’t say anything, the incident was never mentioned. Even to you, his statement rang loud and clear.

You were off-limits.

Clearly, Gojo didn’t care about the unspoken rule.

So far, Ijichi hasn’t acknowledged him. If anything, your superior is hunched behind his computer, typing away, rarely taking his eyes off-screen. You admired his concentration, but it was hard for you to follow suit, considering that Gojo had taken a seat right next to you.

His stare is impossible to ignore. You can feel it even as you desperately try to focus on the screen in front of you. As if he can tell you’re intimidated by his mere presence, he leans over, shoulder pressing against your own. You could practically hear the grin in his voice.

“Watcha’ workin’ on?” He asks as though he can’t already see.

Still, you falter. “Um—”

“Um’” he repeats, “that’s all you’ve been sayin’. Hey, Ijichi—” The man in question jolts up, eyes already panicked.

“Your assistant always this jumpy, or is your personality just that infectious?”

“Sir, uh—” Ijichi starts before getting cut off by a tsk.

“See? Again,” Gojo sighs, “I see why you two get along so well.”

You and Ijichi exchange glances, unsure what to do. When Gojo says nothing more, you decide it’s okay to resume work again, typing away.

Childhood friends, Ijichi told you back when you were still morbidly curious. Gojo had come from a lineage of powerful businessmen. Geto had more or less worked his way up. They became partners somewhere along that time.

It’s hard to imagine them as friends or as anything more. They’re so different. Geto is so controlled, measured with every response he takes. Gojo is more like dynamite, ready to go off at any moment.

You suppose the only similarity is how unreadable they are. To this day, you can’t tell whether Gojo dislikes you or not. Every action you take seems only to disappoint him, yet he constantly hovers around you.

It takes another minute for you to be on the keyboard before Gojo decides he doesn’t like you working peacefully. The chair creaks under his weight as he shifts closer. His head rests against your shoulder. With his new position, you can feel his breath on your collarbone as an arm casually wraps around your shoulders. You don’t dare react, but you send Ijichi a panicked look. He looks sympathetic, but he doesn’t move to help you. You can’t find it in yourself to fault him for his inactions.

“You never answered me, by the way.” He murmurs, quiet enough that only you can hear.

You respond as diligently as you can, making sure you use as few word fillers as possible. It’s clear Gojo doesn’t like that. Or rather, he doesn’t like the nervousness your voice exudes but you doubt you could fix it, especially with his presence around.

“Sounds boring.” Gojo interrupts your rambles. “You don’t do anything else more entertaining?”

“No, sir,” you reply, “I’m only in charge of paperwork.”

Despite the other co-workers you have, you are still an anomaly. Everyone here has had an experience holding a gun—even Ijichi. It’s clear Geto ‘hiring’ you was a change in pattern, something you would always be grateful for. If he hadn't, you wouldn’t want to know what was in store for you.

That’s probably why Gojo was so curious about you. However, considering how close they were, you were now wondering why Geto hadn’t explained it.

“How long have you been working here—hey,look at me when you’re talking.”

You turn, and for the first time, you willingly face Gojo Satoru. His sunglasses are tilted down, and you can see his eyes now. They are blue, so painfully blue, like an ocean, curled up tightly within his eyes. Glittering tanzanite stares back at you—beautiful gemstones that glisten beneath the fluorescent light.

Gojo tilts his head, and you remember that he asked you a question.

“Three weeks, Sir.”

He doesn’t seem all that pleased with your answer. You wonder if you should have lied instead. He’s embarrassingly close, and the position he’s forced you into doesn’t help.

“That quick, huh?” Gojo murmurs, and he sounds a little impressed, “how many times have you and Suguru fucked?”

You gape at him, horrified at even the insinuation. It takes a while for you to even find your voice.

“I—we’ve never. Never.”

Gojo narrows his eyes. “You don’t have to lie to me. C’mon, I'm just curious.”

It feels even worse that Gojo's question isn't even unreasonable. Geto has always treated you differently. Softer. Kinder, if you wanted to be charitable. It isn't a stretch to assume you've been doing favors for the man, in this line of work, it must be a normal occurrence. Yet, you haven't. Apart from that one blunder weeks ago, Geto has never touched you inappropriately.

Still, you shake your head rapidly, feeling heat flush in your cheeks. Being cornered and interrogated like this is humiliating, especially in front of everyone. Ijichi is nice enough to look away while you’re being humiliated, but you know he’s listening. You know everyone’s listening.

Thankfully, Geto intervenes.

“You.” A sigh of exasperation. “Get off.”

Gojo rolls his eyes, but you almost cry in relief when he pushes away and stands up.

“We were bonding,” Gojo argues, though, like everything he says, it sounds like a tease.

Geto’s murmuring something else, and it’s clear that this interaction between them is normal. It's almost a repetition of what happened last time. Both times, you’d been the commonality.

Gojo leaves eventually, shooed away by his partner. The office finally grows quiet when the white-haired man disappears to God knows where. You feel like you can breathe again, but Geto still has not left.

When you look, he’s pinching the bridge of his nose, and you’re strangely reminded of a stressed mother. Finally, he lets out a breath, opening his eyes and staring down at you.

“I apologize for his behavior, my dear,” he says. There’s a hand on your shoulder, mirroring the touch Gojo gave you.

“He’s excitable, like a dog.” You don’t think that part was for you, though you don’t think you could ever even fathom comparing the terrifying anomaly that is Gojo to a mutt. You don’t respond. Geto squeezes your shoulder.

“Come to me if Satoru goes too far. I always take care of my people, don't I?”

He doesn’t leave until you give a nod. His hand finally retracts, allowing you to sink into your seat. You watch him until his figure disappears from view.

“I’m taking a break,” you say, not even a minute later.

Ijichi gives a nod as you push yourself up away from the computer. You spend your break the way you usually do: tucked inside the bathroom, trying to wonder how your life turned out this way.

⟡

Sometimes, you accompany Geto on his trips.

You don’t want to, but it’s not like you can reject his ‘requests.’ It’s part of the job, whether or not you can refuse is up to Geto’s whims.

The trips aren’t too bad. Most of the time, it’s a meeting with other dangerous men. You mainly just sit in a corner, peering down at the ground, trying your best not to be noticed. It works, most of the time. The few perks of this new life is how seldom the people of the underground want to associate with you, especially when you're with Geto. His presence is everywhere, a blanket of protection bestowed only to you. These days, you feel safe even when walking home alone at night.

The trips aren't too bad, but Gojo's insistence on tagging along changed even that.

You should be sitting up front. There's a perfectly vacate passenger seat, right beside Ijichi, the least dangerous man in the vehicle. Gojo had practically dragged you into the car with him, holding you hostage. Geto slid into the seat beside you, effectively trapping you between the two men.

Despite your attempts to keep your body to yourself, every other minute, your thighs brush against theirs. It's a miserable affair, but neither comment on your breach of personal space. They're both too invested in their own little worlds. Geto peers peacefully out the window, enjoying the city life pass by. Gojo is glued to his phone, tapping away every so often.

It's tempting to sneak a peek at them in their natural states, relaxed, unbothered. You don't stare for too long.

Every so often, their worlds will collide. Geto will point out a cat. Gojo would reach over you, showing Geto something funny on his phone. Unfortunately, Gojo catches your lingering eyes.

"Wanna see?" He doesn't bother to hear your response, shoving his phone in your face.

It's a cat video, of all things. You almost wanted to laugh at how normal it is, but you're too intimidated to do anything but give a strained smile, more designed to please. You expected something darker. More blood. More screams. On the screen, the orange kitten lightly bats at a ball of yarn.

"Got a cat?" Gojo asks, tucking away his phone.

"No, Mr. Gojo."

He tsks, but before your blood can freeze, he says, "I told you: It's Satoru."

He's been insistent about it these past few days: Satoru. Satoru. Call me Satoru, as though you'd even dare. Beside you, Geto rumbles out his disapproval.

"Don't be childish, Satoru." He chides.

The car rolls to a stop eventually. The relief in your lungs expands. Ijichi gets out first, followed by Geto. Before you can move, a hand grabs you by the chin, halting your movements.

"You're not leaving this car until you say it, pretty thing," Gojo tells you. "C'mon. Sa-to-ru."

Behind you, Geto sighs, but he doesn't move to stop him. Right, Geto promised he'd step in only when Gojo goes too far. Clearly, this is within his bounds.

You wilt under the hardened tanzanite.

"Satoru." You mutter.

Satisfied, Gojo releases his hold on you, hopping out the car, humming a happy tune.

Geto holds his hand out to you. You'd be an idiot not to take it.

"Bear with him today, dear," he tells you when you step out in the pavement, "he's in a mood."

Amythyst sears into you. You can only nod.

Even then, Geto doesn't release you. He gently maneuvers your arm until your elbow is interlocked with his. He takes his time, walking into the building, mindful of your heels. Ijichi and Gojo are already ahead. Gojo takes a look behind him, spots the two of you, scoffs, but doesn't do much more.

It's another thing you don't know how to feel about. The two have always instigated less than friendly gestures toward you. Yet, neither of the two have expressed any kind of jealousy. You know they are clearly lovers, yet the way they allow their significant other to behave with you makes you feel a bit nauseous.

Most likely, they see you as a pet. Not even a threat to their relationship. It makes sense. In their eyes, you're probably a scared gazelle in the middle of a lion's den. Cute. Something to play with.

There's another theory in your head that you're pushing away.

You follow the same procedure you've always followed. You stay still and silent, like a doll, right beside Geto. Strange men come up to him, greeting him with smug smiles. They barely give you a glance. That's good. It means they know you're one of Geto's.

Gojo being there changes the dynamic. He's more serious, in this setting. You sit right next to Geto's side, listening as Gojo talks. They both do that a lot. Talking. Negotiating. Scheming. You're a bit disappointed in yourself at how easy it is to let the words swirl around until there's nothing left to understand. It's easy to ignore them now. The horrors they partake in. The horrors you are indirectly part of.

Are you allowed to be innocent now that you work under these people? You've never pulled the trigger yourself, but is that an excuse? Morally speaking, you're the same as the men you are terrified of.

How laughable. You came to that conclusion right when they were discussing the price of narcotics.

Sometime later, you find yourself alone, roaming down an unfamiliar hall. It's foolish to be out without Geto or Gojo or even Ijichi, but Geto had an errand he wanted you to run. Now that it was complete, you needed to return back to him.

Except, you had no clue where he was.

You were lost. You should have known this would happen. Why didn't you pay more attention to where you were going? This wasn't any old building. Dangerous men lurked around, even the weaker ones carried guns and weapons.

It was only a matter of time before one of them caught you.

"Hey. You."

You were considered one of Geto's, but without him in sight, you were nothing. You knew that. It's why you cower immediately.

"I'm busy," you speak quickly, "My boss, Mr. Geto, he's—"

His hand is rough and scared and filthy on your skin. You are basically thrown against the wall, cornered against this stranger. He smiles. His teeth are yellowed and filled with tarter and plaque.

"C'mon, there's no need to rush. 'Just wanna have some fun. How much?" Disgust rolls off your tongue, but you don't have the courage to reveal it.

"I'm not like that," you mutter, "I'm not for sale."

But, aren't you? You've sold yourself to Geto, haven't you? Underneath his thumb, his whims. What makes you so much different from a hooker?

"Sure." And then there's a shift in his eyes. His face scrunches up, like he's just tasted something sour.

"Hold on...you're—you're that bastard's kid, aren't you?"

He says your last name, the name your father gave you with so much spite that you nearly flinch. In that moment, you realized that your father had messed with a lot more people than just Geto.

"Yeah yeah, you're a spitting fucking image!" He gripes you harsher. "Your daddy fucked me over while you're sitting over here nice and pretty? What the fuck?"

He's dead. He's dead and you hadn't spoken to him in over a decade, but his ghost still wants to punish you for being his kin. And this man is his executioner.

You're expecting something violent. Something that hurt more than his hand's squeezing your bicep. Perhaps he was, perhaps he would. Unfortunately, for him, Gojo interupted his plans.

You didn't even know that it was him, at first, on the floor, on top of the man. Gojo, despite his hungry smile, eager eyes, was always so angelic. He isn't supposed to be using his hands. He isn't supposed to inflict violence, not by himself.

He's punching him. The man isn't a man anymore, reduced to a mere punching back. Gojo doesn't stop until he breaks skin. He doesn't stop until you can hear a distinct crack.

Satoru doesn't stop until Suguru tells him to.

"Don't kill him." Geto warns. "It'd breach the agreement."

You can feel his presence, always silent, never revealing himself until he wants to be known. So unlike Gojo, who is hungry for even a second of attention. More than happy to spill blood over it.

Gojo grits his teeth, as though he's debating to even listen. He stands up eventually, chest heaving. His knuckles are caked in blood. It's not his. His glasses are off. His eyes are blown wide open like he's just hit the greatest high of his life. Geto calmly hands him a clean towel. You don’t want to know how many times this situation has repeated.

"Who gives a shit." Gojo bites out, his eyes , trailing to you, and you flinch away. He looks like a wild animal, growling and spitting. You don’t want to be next on his plate. Geto steps in front of you, barricading you from his sight.

The man on the ground had recovered enough to pathetically crawl away. It such a stark change to how he was just a few minutes ago, when he was lording over you, drunk off of his power.

Gojo steps on his calf. The broken thing gives a strangled scream. It only makes Gojo’s manic grin wider.

"Let him go. You made your point," Geto says, "calm down."

Firey blue eyes. Bright and violent. You don’t know how Suguru is able to withstand the intensity. Even you’re wilting when it’s not even directed towards you.

"Calm down?” Satoru asks. “You want me to calm down? Did you see what that bastard was gonna do to our—"

"Satoru." You've never heard Geto use this tone before. "Not here. Not now."

A silent battle warred between them. Tanzanite bore into amethyst. Which gem would rupture first, splinter into defeat?

Eventually, Gojo looks away, cursing. He glares down at you, as though he were blaming your weakness of all things. In a way, he’s not wrong to.

"I'll wait outside."

And then he's gone, striding down the corridor. Geto watches him go, before glancing down at you.

"Did he hurt you?" He asks.

You're not supposed to lie to him. You nod.

Geto pulls on your sleeves until he can see the imprints. Light bruising, nothing too horrible. You'll survive. Geto looks less than pleased. He glances down at the remnants of the man, the imprints of blood on the floor. You pitied the person who'd have to clean it up.

"I apologize, dear." He sighs. "I should have kept an eye on you."

He stares at the blood some more. Then, he smiles.

"Perhaps, it's better if I just let things run its course, this time."

You blink at him. He ignores your silent question. Instead, he wraps his arm around your shoulders, gently leading you outside. The car is already running. This time, Geto silently ushers you into the passenger seat. You take it immediately. Gojo hadn't taken his eyes off of you. You're grateful for any barrier.

This time, the car ride was silent. You don't relish in it. If anything, it just feels like the calm before the storm.

⟡

Soon, what Geto was talking about became apparent.

The man who had nearly been killed by Gojo had talked. You don't know what your father did to these men, perhaps you never will, but they didn't let you forget his crimes. If they couldn't get to him, then clearly, his kid was the next best option. You know it was them. It would be no one else.

Someone broke into your apartment one weekend. Everything was ruined. The TV was shattered and broken. Your mattress was tossed onto the floor. Every plate, cup, and bowl was smashed onto the floor. They took nothing, but they broke everything.

You hadn't been home that night. Ijichi needed more work from you. If you had, if you had come home that night, alone, locked the door, slept in that bed, then what would have—

Geto finds you on the stairs of your apartment, curled into a ball. You watch with bloodshot eyes as he observes the damage, clicking his tongue. He doesn't look particularly shocked.

You do nothing when you feel his hand on your shoulder, brushing against the sleeves, a feign of sympathy. You don't even care to ask how he came even though you never called him. Geto has a keen sense for you.

"It'll get worse." His voice comes. Soft, and sure.

Yeah, you knew that. You'd been naive, following after Geto with wide eyes. You thought that if he was untouchable, then so were you.

He speaks about an enemy group, people with debts with your father, just as he did. Of course, he knows who did this to you. You’d be more surprised if he didn’t.

You don’t care. His words go in one ear and out the other. The reasons don’t matter. Your home is still destroyed. It’s no longer yours.

"They got my phone, too," you mention to your discarded cell phone. "My emails, messages."

You're trapped, with nowhere else to turn. All the doors are shut and bolted, and only one remains open.

You turn to the devil.

"Can you...help?"

The angler fish uses its darkened habitat to its advantage. Hundreds of miles beneath the water's surface, it produces its own light as an olfactory bulb. It's an excellent predator, swinging its bio lantern around in the dark sea, the only light around for miles.

Geto tilts his head, a smile on perfect pink lips.

"You want my protection? It's a steep price, darling."

You feel like an empty well, forced to give and give until you're all dried up. Who could be so greedy? Who could be so willing to take?

"I've given you everything." It's barely a whisper. "What else do I have left to offer?"

He doesn't say anything to that, not at first. Geto kneels in front of you, a slender hand lifting your head up by the chin. Fingers trail down to your neck. Not choking, just holding. His thumb lightly presses into your throat.

"Not everything," Suguru says quietly.

He's right. You hadn't given him everything. So far, you have always been one of Geto's people. You were Geto's employee. You were indebted to him, but you weren't conquered by him.

Not yet.

He's kneeling in front of you, holding your soul in his hands and demanding for your heart. In a way, you find it a bit funny. You just don’t have the will to laugh anymore.

He's smiling again when he can tell you're finally starting to understand. "We couldn't have been that subtle, were we? Satoru never failed to express, at the very least."

No, they never tried to hide it. Even in the beginning, when you first met Suguru, you saw the hunger. You just tried to ignore it. You tried to keep your head in the sand, hoping it would pass. It makes you wonder if you had just agreed on that very night, led him into your bed, and bared it, would things have been different?

"I can leave. We can pretend this never happened," he coos, "it's all up to you, sweetheart."

He's making it seem like you had a choice. In a way, you did. You're choosing between two monsters. A known and an unknown. It takes longer than you'd like to figure out which one scares you more.

You take the bait. The angler fish siezes its prey.

"One night?" You're trying not to beg but it's coming out anyway. "Just—just one night?"

Geto leans forward, pressing a kiss on your forehead. It’s not an answer.

⟡

Despite the many months you've worked with him, you've never been to his home before.

It's not a house. A villa maybe. The property stretches itself stretches for miles. Filthy rich. Bleeding gold.

Geto—

("Suguru," he corrected you in the car, "considering this isn't really business, anymore.")

—had ushered you throw a double-door entrance. You couldn't even admire the architecture. Not when Gojo was already standing there. His eyes were hidden away, tucked underneath his glasses, but you still felt his stare. And all too wide smile stretched on his lips. He greeted Suguru with a kiss. For the first time, you looked down at their hands.

Matching rings.

You felt sick.

'It's all up to you, sweetheart' Suguru's voice rings through your head all through a dinner that's really nothing but a flimsy padding for the rest of the night. Food was served, wine was poured, all in a bid to ease you into it. As of right now, it's still your 'choice'. You know, without a doubt, if you backed out now, they'd let you go without a fuss. Suguru or Satoru themselves might drive you home. You'd crawl into bed without a scratch.

But you don't. You stare at your plate, picking at it when they ask questions. Satoru's in such a good mood he offers to feed you.

It's mostly because it doesn't feel real yet. You feel like you're watching yourself go through the movements. Eat. Speak when spoken to. Smile when prompted. Empty.

You only come back when you're standing in their room, and the door locks with a click.

The window blinds are drawn, but there's no light to seep in. The moon is already out. You wonder how many hours you've already spent here.

You take another step towards the bed. Then, you turn around.

Satoru and Suguru stare right back. You feel their heavy gazes immediately, flicking your eyes down to your feet, playing with your sleeves.

Satoru laughs, perceiving the terror as shyness, or maybe he doesn't care. He steps forward first.

"Don't be like that." He lightly chastises you, tucking one arm around your waist. "We'll be nice. Promise, baby. We're gonna be so so good for you."

He finds your lips, then. Satoru kisses like the sun, all fire and passion. Sinking into you, wanting to melt. It's impossible to turn away and ignore his presence. He gropes at your chest, your waist, trying to feel all of you at once. When he finally lets go, you feel dizzy.

Suguru's kisses ground you, makes remember where you are, who you're with. He's like the Earth you're crashing back into from your high. You hurdle through the atmosphere as his hands grasp at your throat. He never squeezes, but it's more than enough to sober you.

"You smell so nice, baby," Satoru says from his place at your neck. You flinch when teeth sink into your sink, but you don't complain.

"That's creepy, Satoru." Suguru chastizes him.

Serpentine eyes stare into yours. You don’t get the chance to hide before you feel his breath on your cheek. Suguru tugs at the hem of your dress.

“Take this off.” He whispers into your skin. “And get on the bed for us, sweetheart.”

This is the lesser monster. It’s a mantra you repeat in your head as you pliantly nod, hesitantly gripping the fabric of your dress. It’s horrifically easy to take it off and let it drop by your feet. You can’t bear to look at them anymore.

The soft duvet sinks under your weight. It looks expensive. Silky pillows. On either side is a nightstand covered with trinkets and personal items. You spot one of Suguru’s shirts on the floor, and it takes you a second to realize this is their room, not an impersonal guest room they use to fuck the less fortunate.

They stop paying attention to you. Satoru moans loudly into Suguru’s mouth. Suguru fiddles with the buttons on Satoru’s shirt, close to ripping it off entirely. Satoru palms at the tent in his pants as he unbuckles his pants. Suguru loosens his tie. They’re so violent with each other. Dread soaks through your palms, and you curl even further within yourself. You prayed this was all they wanted from you—someone to just watch, someone less interactive.

It’s not. When they pull away, their lips are swollen. Satoru leers at you, licking at his busted lip. You can’t seem to cry anymore.

They’re both half-naked. You can see the tattoos spread on Suguru’s hand, crawling up to his shoulder. Another peeks just behind Satoru’s neck. You only get a glimpse before he’s on top of you, eager for a continuation.

“Shit, you’re so soft.” He hisses as he squeezes your bra-covered breast. It doesn’t stay on for long. You wince when his fingers trace over your sensitive tits.

Your hands squeeze into fists, because you choose this, choose them. Satoru’s more than happy to sink into your breasts. His warm tongue swirls around a nipple before fully taking it in his mouth.

“Like a baby,” Suguru says. Satoru scoffs, tossing him an impressed look.

“Shut up.” Satoru releases your breast with a wet-sounding pop. They’ll be marks there tomorrow.

His fingers trail down your breasts, your ribs, your stomach. They linger on the band of your panties.

You can’t help it. It’s instinct.

He freezes when your fingers snap around his wrist. There’s no strength behind your grip, he pauses more out of surprise than anything.

His eyes, filled with hardened tanzanite, shoot up to yours. You think, if they’d be anyone else’s, you would have envied them.

He doesn’t say anything. Neither does Suguru. The silence is crushing.

“Sorry.” You feel pathetic apologizing, but it’s outweighed by the fear. “I—I’m sorry. I was just—”

“It’s okay, dear,” Suguru coos. “Satoru just scared you, hm? He’s such an idiot, isn’t he?” He violently smacks Satoru on the head. You flinch at the sound. Satoru just whines, rubbing at his temple.

“Mean.” Satoru childishly says, but he’s slower now, rolling down the hem of your panties.

Suguru is quick to distract you. He’s busy with his own bottoms before he’s taking you by the chin.

His cock is already leaking precum. He’s big, and you don’t think you’ll be able to do want he wants. Suguru smiles down at you, he doesn’t need to say anything. You’re swallowing down your self-hatred before opening your mouth.

You take him in just when Satoru buries his face between your thighs. The two of you have very different reacts. Satoru just hums, finding your clit to lick. You gasp, your legs jolting as you accidentally take Suguru even deeper.

He’s nice enough to let you go at your own pace. There’s a hand on your head, petting you, easing you through the process. Even then, your mouth is stretched uncomfortably wide. Tears prick at your eyes. Suguru’s face gets blurry. You don’t think you want to look anymore.

Below you, Satoru is enjoying his meal. He’s slobbering on your pussy, eating you out like it’s his last meal. His hot tongue finds his way into your sopping hole. You squeeze your eyes, a muffled whine comes from your mouth. The only loss of control Suguru shows was how he ever-so-slightly gripped your head.

By then, you’re unintentionally squeezing Satoru’s head in between your thighs. It’s so much. Pleasure tingles up your spine as Satoru continues to worship your pussy. His nose grinds into your clit and, for a moment, you’re wondering how he’s even breathing.

Suguru’s close. You can feel it every time his balls slap your chin. He’s speaking now, words stilted and heavy. It’s the only hint you get that he’s only holding his control by his teeth. That thought scares you. At any moment he’d snap, choking you with his cock, let you suffocate while he fills your dying mouth with his cum.

“Good,” he’s hissing out, “so good—good for me. C’mon, baby, take it.”

Satoru’s hand squeezes your ass, urging you to arch off the bed. You come like that, pressing your thighs around Satoru’s head, moaning around Suguru’s dick.

Suguru barely gives a grunt before something salty fills your mouth. You have to swallow it down. It burns your throat.

The air tastes sweet by the time Suguru’s cock leaves your mouth. You’re sucking in deep breaths, breasts heaving. Incidentally, you hadn’t suffocated Satoru. He’s kissing his way up your body. A trickle of Suguru’s cum had escaped your lips. His tongue presses against your chin before he pushes it back into your mouth. You can taste your tangy essence on his lips.

“Gotta’ swallow it all,” Satoru says with a teasing lilt, “he gets mad when it’s wasted.”

You can only nod. He gives you another wet kiss before he pulls away.

They switch places, Suguru moving over until he’s between your thighs. His large cock lays on your cunt. He’s still hard, his cock twitches when he angles his hips down, letting the head run over your leaking slit.

“The only reason he's going first is ‘cuz he’s been pining for you for months.” Satoru murmurs into your ear. Strangely enough, Suguru doesn’t comment. Your brain can’t work fast enough to comprehend what that means.

You hold your breath just as he presses himself inside. You’re almost grateful Satoru took the time to prepare you. His salivia, and your stretched walls make it easier for Suguru to bury his length inside you.

It doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt. You hiss. Satoru feels enough sympathy to coo at you, kissing your neck, trying to distract you from the pain. It doesn't help, not even when Suguru presses light circles into your clit, easing his way through.

Suguru’s giving a harsh laugh when he’s fully seated inside, his hips meeting yours.

“Feel good, hm?” Satoru goads, reaching up to nibble on Suguru’s ear.

“Shit, so tight—fuck.”

Your hips twitch and you’re clenching down on him. Suguru doubles over, gritting his teeth.

“Oh, darling.” Scarred hands grasp your neck. “I’m going to ruin you, aren’t I?”

Your bottom lip wobbles. He’s eyeing you like a piece of meat. A gazelle in the lion’s den. To them, to men like them, you suppose you’re nothing more.

“Suguru.” You whisper because your voice is failing you. “You-you promised you’d be nice.”

Silence. And he’s laughing so hard his shoulders shake. They both are.

“We did promise that, didn’t we?” Suguru glances at Satoru. “Next time, then.”

He pulls his cock out of you slowly, dragging his head through your cunt. He’s so slow and deliberate that you think it’d feel better if he just went ahead and fucked you already.

And he was, technically. His hips rolled back into you, his cock disappearing inside your wet pussy with each thrust. It’s so much that you’re willingly arching your back, trying to do anything to alleviate the intensity.

Beside you, Satoru is pulling out his cock, his eyes never leaving the lewd sight of Suguru fucking himself into you.

“Fuck fuck fuck,” he’s cursing under his breath, fisting his cocl in one hand, “so fuckin’ hot.”

Suguru growls, grabbing Satoru’s stiff cock, crudely pumping his hand up and down. His movement are getting more erratic losing his pace, his patience. You’re at your end too, almost crying when someone squeezes your sensitive tits.

“How does it feel, darling?” Suguru asks with a ragged breath. His eyes are blown, you don’t even think he’s looking at you, anymore.

When you don't give an answer fast enough, Suguru snaps his hips punishingly in response. You give a sharp wail.

“I said.” Suguru hisses through his teeth. ��Tell me how it feels.”

You can barely suck in a breath. You’re losing oxygen too fast.

But you’ll die if he keeps doing this.

“Good.” You tell the truth. “It—it feels good, Suguru.”

He grins, serpentine. You’ve lost a game you didn’t even know you were playing. His fingers descend on your clit.

“That’s my perfect darling.”

You sob when your walls clench around his cock, milking him dry. Your orgasm triggers his own. He curses, and something is spilled into your used cunt. Out the corner of your eye, Suguru and Satoru are kissing, going together like rabid dogs. Satoru shudders, and then all three of you are a panting mess.

You take in deep breaths, barely caring when Suguru lets out an exhausted laugh, collapsing into your chest. He licks at your sweaty skin. You just sink your head further into the pillows

It was over. It was finally over.

“You got it everywhere.” Suguru suddenly says, disgusted. He wipes Satoru’s cum off your stomach.

Satoru just snorts.

“I didn’t have a hole to dump it all in.” He snarks back. “Twice, by the way. So selfish, Sugu.”

“Quit whining.” Suguru groans. “You have your chance now, don’t you?”

What? Exhaustion blinks away.

Suguru stays by your side. Gojo is the one moving, rising from the blankets. He places his hands on either side of your hips, spreading your legs.

Geto catches your panic, easily catching you before you can even do anything. He hushes you while Satoru settles himself between your thighs, his cock pressing right at your slit.

“The night’s still young, dear.” He sounds almost sympathetic. “Be good for just a bit longer.”

By the time they’re finally done with you, it’d been hours. You can’t count how many positions they put you in, how many times your holes were filled by their cocks or their fingers or their mouths. You’re barely coherent by the time Suguru is tucking you under the soft duvet.

You feel sore and used and dirty. His soft words, filled with praises, just make you feel worse. Despite how exhausted you feel, you’re just waiting until they finally get bored of seeing your body and kick you out.

You’ll call a cab home. You’ll cry yourself to sleep. You’ll be okay.

They’re taking a while to get to that part. They’re mumbling soft words too each other, it sounds too intimate to be something you should be overhearing. Satoru’s at your back, hands curling around your waist, another brushing Suguru’s mussed hair. You can feel his soft breath at the nape of your neck.

Suguru’s eyes are on you. Amethyst watches you intently.

"Satoru,” he finally says, “go uphold our end of the deal."

Gojo groans, annoyed. He snuggles closer to you. "Why me? You go do it."

An adoring smile crinkles on Suguru’s lips. It makes him look younger.

"Because I don't trust you alone with this one for the night. Go."

“Ass.”

He sighs, but Gojo sits up, letting the covers shift off his naked body.

"Stay right here for me, baby, 'kay?" He leans over, pressing a delicate kiss on your hairline. Despite everything that happened tonight, this was the most intimate thing he'd done to you. It's too...loving.

When Satoru leaves, you wait for a few moments. Suguru had yet to tell you to go. It probably meant that he didn’t want to waste his breath dismissing you. You take the hint, rising from the bed.

His fingers snap around you wrist just as your feet touch the floor.

“Where are you going?” His voice doesn’t sound accusatory, but you flinch anyway.

A wobbly smile makes its way across your face, you hope it comes across as submissive. Weren’t you done? The deal was made, that meant you could leave now, right?

"I—I need to go home?" Suguru gives a doting smile, as though you said something adoringly naive. He barely pulls on your hand, gently leading you back under the covers.

You follow because the gun glints by the nightstand.

“Is that the best idea right now, dear?” He asks, “Who knows if those men have come back? I’d hate to see them find their target, wouldn’t you?”

He draws you into his chest. Your head is tucked underneath his chin.

“And besides, Satoru will be disappointed if you left without saying goodbye. It’d be horrible to deal with one of his tantrums so late at night.”

He buries his face into your hair, inhaling your scent.

“Why don’t you leave in the morning? I’ll be sure to drive you back myself. By then, I’m sure Satoru will have made the proper arrangements. Don’t tell him I told you this, but—” Suguru drops his voice as though he’s scared someone might overhear”—he tends to be more efficient when you’re in the picture.”

You don’t know what he means by that, and you don’t think you want to know. Still, you lift your head, finding the courage to stare at him.

His eyes are such a beautiful color. Glittering purple in the moonlight. You’d stare at them all night if you could.

“I can leave in the morning?”

Suguru hums, kissing your forehead.

It’s not an answer.

#yandere jjk #yandere #dark jjk #dark gojo satoru #dark content #yandere gojo satoru #non con touching #yandere geto suguru #dark geto suguru #dark satosugu #yandere satosugu #tw:blood #tw:noncon/dubcon

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torasplanet · 10 months ago

Text

❝𝙏𝙃𝙍𝙀𝙀 𝙒𝙊𝙍𝘿𝙎.ᐟ❞

K. BAKUGOU, S. TODOROKI, & I. MIDORIYA + SHY!GN. READER

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 ; the main three when their shy/anxious s/o finally says 'i love you'<3

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜 ; fluff, hcs + scenarios, new relationships, literally that's it and skin color not mentioned

IZUKU MIDORIYA

izu just can't with this.

he understands how you're shy and all of that so it might take you some time to get comfortable saying those things

hell he even was scared to say it too but this long??? really?

izu has begun to think that you'd never say it at this rate...

he got so scared that you didn't love him at all and was just too scared to tell him the truth because you didn't wanna hurt his feelings!

or maybe he's just overthinking again...

that doesn't matter because izu never tells you his concerns. he wants you to take your time

he doesn't wanna rush you and make it forced!

that being said...when you finally do say it on your own, he thinks he just might lose his mind.

izuku's anxious sitting at his desk with you right beside him almost breaking the pencil in half and it was a mechanical pencil. he was holding back because he didn't want to frighten you but he just couldn't sit here while you're looking so cute.

he wanted to say he loved how cute you looked so bad but he was worried that maybe it'd make you uncomfortable since you weren't saying i love you to him yet.

that had been getting to him a lot lately and he didn't know how to handle it without talking to you. he knew how you were and didn't want to make it worse. see izuku himself was a fairly shy person, well not so much as he was in middle school but he understood you and your feelings but not enough for it to not bother him!

"ohhh! i get it now!" you exclaimed leaning back in your chair. your sudden loud speech snapped izuku out of his thoughts and he smiled at you sweetly with a hum escaping him.

you gave him a grin "thanks izu! i love you, i don't know what i'd do without you." you spoke without thinking and immediately closed your eyes out of embarrassment at what he'd say in response. you didn't think about what you were saying, you just said the first thing that came to mind...when you heard a loud bang, you opened your eyes and looked at your boyfriend with wide eyes.

izu's face was planted on the desk and he was letting out a hum that didn't seem positive or anything; more like he was a kettle on the stove. "oh uhm...are you okay?" you hesitantly asked going to reach for him but he snapped up before you could touch him. izuku's face was bright red and it looked like he was burning up "i love you too!" he shouted with a smile on his face clearly happy that you finally said that. you were a bit weirded out but at least he was happy.

KATSUKI BAKUGOU

oh please don't even get me started on katsuki...

like izu, he was really upset about you not saying you love him especially when he said it to you first and you didn't say it back

but unlike izuku, he could give less than a fuck about not wanting to talk to you about it

the only thing that stopped him from doing that was that denki told him that he'd probably hurt your feelings like that and that was the last thing he wanted to do so for once, he shut up

but his aggression was fairly obvious because every time he said he loved you with that frown on his face, it'd get deeper when you didn't say it back and just smiled at him

katsuki felt like he'd actually blow up a building if you took longer to say it.

"what the hell are you doing up there!?" katsuki shouted from down below in the training area while you stood on one of the buildings looking for denki who was supposed to be your other partner.

you looked down at the masked boy very cautiously i might add and just nervously gave him an 'uh' showing you didn't know. katsuki grunted in frustration as he looked around to see if there was any one from the other team around to make sure that you guys didn't lose. he was already beginning to sweat just from pure anger.

when the class was splitting up to go to the locker rooms for costume changes, katsuki had told you he loved you and that he'd see you on the grounds but...you didn't say it back. you just laughed a bit showing that you were growing embarrassed and gave him a very small peck on his cheek.

see katsuki did appreciate that but he wanted an 'i love you' back not a kiss especially not a little baby kiss to the cheek that one of his cousins would give him but again, he stayed silent and just grumbled under his breath in the lockerroom. he was already pissed off from that but now denki was nowhere to be found? that dumb fucker was probably lost.

little did the both of you know, he was behind you planning on surprising you which was not the best idea considering you were almost dangling over the edge of a building right now. "boo!" denki shouted in your ear making you jump and lose your footing. you slipped and fell off the edge of the building with a yelp drawing your boyfriend's attention.

he was quick to blast up into the air and catch you in his arms before you even slightly neared the ground "oh my god! i love you so much 'suki!" you said in desperation as you wrapped your arms around him and clutched onto him in fear that you'd fall. katsuki would never drop you but he almost did when he heard you finally say it back to him.

"ha! i thought you'd never say it!" katsuki shouted with a grin on his face as he landed on the ground, your face still stuffed in his shoulder. you hadn't even realized what you said until he just pointed it out "oh..." you muttered feeling embarrassment creep up on you as your boyfriend put you on the ground. you put your palms to your face to cover you hot face but the blonde grabbed your hands and forcefully pulled them away from your face "stop that shit! if you think i don't love you back, i do." katsuki said muttering the last part a little lower because denki was shouting apologies from the top of the building and could probably hear a few things.

katsuki had a bit to learn about embarrassment when saying that kind of stuff too.

SHOTO TODOROKI

pls dont ever talk to him about this

he'll actually just sit there silent probably dying inside

shoto has had his fair share of not getting told i love you or getting a sort of warped kind of love so you not saying i love you isn't something relatively new to him

but he still hates it.

he can't even begin to explain the ache in his chest when ou don't say it back to him, not like he'd ever explain it to anyone

unlike both of the other boys, he's extremely patient and no matter how he feels, he won't throw small tantrums over you not saying it and will just wait

but as he waited, he got more needy for hearing those three words

"sho..." you whined dragging out the o in your boyfriend's name while you tried to get up from under the many blankets shoto had you bundled under. he had the whole work for you.

thermometer on the bedside desk and cold medicine right next to it while you continuously sneezed and coughed in bed. you had gotten sick recently and your darling two-toned-haired boyfriend had been there for every step! making you food, running your baths, just being a complete sweetheart.

shoto, by default, was a sweet boyfriend but he had been a little extra kind lately in hopes that you'd tell him that you loved him for all of his efforts of going out of his way for you. he didn't know what was going on in your brain but he clearly knew you well because that was what you were planning to do.

telling the boy that you loved him would be the perfect way to express your gratitude to him for all he's done throughout your sickness that was caused by your stupidity of going to the market in the cold night after getting out of the shower "coming, my love." shoto said waddling into the room with a bowl of steaming ramen on the small wooden table he had in his hands to make it easier for you to eat in bed. he was really playing the house husband role.

"here, the broth will make you feel better. i promise." the boy said setting the table on the bed just above your legs while kneeling to the ground, you smiled at the todoroki boy deciding that this was the perfect time to tell him that you loved him.

with a blow toward the scalding bowl, you uttered the words quietly "i love you sho." you grew shy after saying that not knowing how he'd respond and his silence ate you alive. you grabbed your chopsticks as you kept your head down to avoid eye contact "sorry, just ignore it–" "no." he interrupted your excuse almost making you knock the bowl over with now fast your body turned to look at him again.

sho's cheeks were flushed a light pink "i love you too. just didn't expect you to say that." he said chuckling lightly with a smile on his face. it might've been true that he wished for you to say it now but it still surprised him.

in a good way though... "can i have a kiss?" you asked smiling back at your boyfriend who still gave you a close-eyed grin, sho stood to his feet "no. you will get me sick." he replied in a monotone before beginning to walk away muttering how he was going to get you something to drink.

you whined loudly throwing your head back. "sho....!"

©torasplanet .ᐟ reblogs and likes are very appreciated! pls do not repost!!

#torasplanet.ᐟ #marls-fics.ᐟ #mha x reader #mha #bnha x reader #shoto todoroki x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugou x reader #todoroki x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #deku x reader #izuku x reader #bnha fluff #◛⑅·˚♡sho-sho!!#◛⑅·˚izu~#◛⑅·˚katsuki>3<

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barcaatthemoon · 4 months ago

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game time || jill roord x reader ||

jill cockwarms you while she finished playing a game.

smut, 18+, minors dni.

"jill," you whined for what felt like the tenth time in half as many minutes. jill was absolutely engrossed in her game, just like she had been all day. she had let you sleep after picking you up from the airport, which was when she began playing this game. you had hoped that after you woke up, jill would have switched her attention to you, but that wasn't the case.

"i am so close to being done, just be patient," jill told you. she had been saying that for the past hour or so. you were on the verge of getting up and going to watch something in the bedroom by yourself, but you wanted so badly to be with jill.

"jill, please put the controller down for a little while. i miss you so much, and i just want to spend time with you," you told her. jill sighed as she paused her game momentarily. you were pouting at her when she looked at you in a way that told jill everything she needed to hear.

"i'll be back." jill stood from the couch and left you there by yourself. true to her word, jill came back a couple minutes later. immediately, your attention was taken by the fake cock jutting out from between jill's legs. the pale blue almost blended in with jill's manchester city sweatpants, but you never would have been able to miss the toy. "sit on it for me, and be still. every time that you move or disturb me, you'll have to stay for longer."

your face went pale as you thought about her terms. you had never been great at being still, but maybe with jill inside of you, it'd be different. gingerly, you stood up from the couch and undressed yourself. jill made you stand in front of her while her fingers teased your cunt to make sure that it was ready to take her strap.

"you're so tight baby, this is going to feel so good." jill pulled her hand back to taste your arousal. you bit your lip as her hand returned to your cunt, this time with one single digit inside of you. jill fucked you slowly, only adding another finger when she felt like the first slipped out without enough resistance.

"jill, kiss me, please," you begged. jill's tongue flicked out to lick her lips. the action only made you want her even more as memories of messy makeout sessions flooded your mind. you thought about the countless nights that the two of you had spent with jill's knee pressing against your core as she kissed you again and again.

"come here baby," jill ordered gently as she moved her hand away again. you let yourself be guided down onto her strap, now facing her as you sat in her lap. you sank down each inch of jill's cock slowly, only moving with her hands as she guided you. "now, i need you to keep still for me. tell me now if you don't think you can do that."

"how long until you finish your game?" you asked her.

"shouldn't be too long. this is the last mission, and if it isn't, i'll stop when i finish it," jill promised you. you nodded and sank the final little bit onto her cock. jill gave you a couple of quick kisses before she turned back to her game. your body rested against's jill's, and for the first few moments, it was easy enough to pretend that you were just cuddling.

jill stayed fairly still until she began to hit hitches in her game. she shifted around in her seat, each time jostling the dildo inside of you. you bit back your moans until you physically couldn't, even though you were afraid of distracting jill even further.

the fact that she wasn't paying to you only made you feel more turned on. jill seemed to completely disregard you sitting on top of her. you and jill were no stranger to little games like this, but it had never quite felt like this. you were a bit more turned on than normal, and it had definitely been a lot longer than what you were used to since jill had touched you last.

"jill," you let out a small whine. you were starting to feel really full in a way that you weren't used to. it was like she was right where you needed her to be, but still so far away. your body was screaming for you to move, but you knew that jill had no issues with making you sit here for hours without any sort of relief. "i don't know how much more i can take of this."

"you're doing so well. i'm almost finished," jill told you. it was subtle, but you could feel the rocking of her hips as she sat playing her game. jill had always been good at knowing exactly what you wanted when you didn't know how to ask for it.

jill's thumb rubbed against your thigh, a simple grounding method that she had used before when this sort of thing became too much for you. jill knew that you were trying hard for her, that none of this was exactly what you had wanted when you landed. jill felt a little bit of guilt tug at her, so she set her controller down on the coffee table.

"can i move you?" jill asked. you nodded, and almost instantly, jill flipped both of you so that you were pinned beneath her on the couch. "do you want me to go fast or slow?"

"slow," you answered. jill nodded and began to slowly thrust her hips in and out of you. she moved all of the way out of you and bottomed out inside of you with each thrust. jill cradled your face in her hands and pressed soft kisses to your lips in between the whisperings of sweet nothings.

"i love you so much," jill told you. you tried to say it back, but all of your words felt like they just slurred together. jill had barely been doing anything to you, and she already had you feeling cock drunk. you were needy and desperate, and jill knew that she move a bit faster to get you through this.

she was still as gentle as ever as she sped up her thrusts. jill leaned down, and you felt like you were in a bubble. all that you could focus on was jill as she pressed kisses to whatever bit of skin that she could get her mouth on. the slight distraction was welcome, and just what you needed to ground yourself long enough to really chase after your release.

"come here baby," you muttered as you pulled jill's head against your chest. she happily laid on the couch with you, neither of you making any attempts to move somewhere more comfortable even as your bodies began to ache. "i missed you."

"tomorrow is all for you. anything that you want, just the two of us," jill promised. you hummed happily at the thought of that. you weren't sure how long you'd be in manchester for before you got called in for pre-season practice and wanted to spend the most amount of time with jill before then that you could.

#woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso smut #minors do not interact #minors dni #jill roord x reader #jill roord imagine #jill roord smut

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mosaickiwi · 2 months ago

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For Two

Hello, content specifically catered to me. This might be the whole damn month.

Just an Angel that works at a BnB all alone with their stalker future spouse... :3c

💜🖤💜🖤💜🖤

You started your morning a little later than usual that Saturday, grateful for the extra half hour of sleep as you gathered ingredients. Only one pot of coffee to brew, one breakfast to make, one room to turnover while the guest went about their day touring the city.

You couldn't believe it.

Normally, the weekend was completely booked. This one was too, except there'd been not just one, but six no-shows yesterday. Almost every single room at the inn was empty despite being fully paid for.

Right at the usual check-in time, a single guest had shown up. Dressed in all black, a whole head taller than you, eyes that looked as tired as you felt from rushing around all day, and only a small duffel bag slung over one shoulder, they didn't look like the type of tourist you usually had this time of year. But who were you to judge?

The refreshments you set out didn't go to waste, though. He went back for seconds and thirds as you showed them to their room… then around the house… then around the garden while constantly on the lookout for other guests pulling up in their rental cars.

Oddly, he seemed more interested in you than the city. Rather than attractions on the pier or night life, the conversation flowed towards a few hobbies you found in common. Before you knew it, the sun had long since set, and no other soul had arrived for check-ins. You carried on with him a while longer, ending the night in a good mood despite the strange, once in a lifetime occurrence.

It felt like talking with an old friend. You wondered if the chat over breakfast would be just as nice.

The coffee machine loudly beeped, disturbing your current task. You stopped and poured it all into a thermos, then set it in the small woven carrier you'd prepared with a mug, creamers, sugars, and a pair of neatly wrapped shortbread cookies. You quietly took it up the stairs to your sole guest's room to set it at the door.

Just as you approached, the door opened with messy black hair and lightly flushed cheeks in greeting. He was the smallest bit shorter without the boots. No piercings in this early in the morning, but even his pajamas were all black. The tiny ghosts on his pants were cute.

The man's blue eyes came to life at the sight of you and he smiled. "Mornin'," they spoke in that soft, raspy voice you'd gotten acquainted with yesterday.

"Beat me to it. Good morning, Ren." You smiled back with ease. "Did you sleep well?"

"Perfect, actually." They yawned, eyeing the basket in your hands as they stretched. "All that f'me before 7am.? Fuck, y'might really be an angel." He paused and rubbed at his lower lip. "Sorry."

You held the basket out to him. "I heard nothing. No worries," you said. It was hard to tell if he was apologizing for cursing or flirting. Was he flirting?

He took the carrier, but still stood in the doorway, drumming his fingers on the sides as if thinking of what to say. "Soo… how d'you usually do these cute little coffee baskets for two people?"

"Two?" You hurriedly racked your brain. You were pretty sure his reservation was for one. He did have the door code already. Maybe he let his companion in late last night?

Did you need to make more coffee? Or tea? Did they have dietary restrictions you didn't know about for breakfast?!

Shit, shit, shit.

You never got to greet them and get their name and if they were still sleeping it'd be rude to wake them up just to ask and you couldn't expect a five star review anyways at this point but this—

"Ah, I meant…" The man interrupted your silent panic with a surprisingly nervous tone. He shifted slightly, fingers tapping even louder. "If ya wanted t'join me. I mean, I'm the only one here so I thought y'wouldn't be too busy with breakfast."

Ohh. He was flirting. Your job be damned.

"Breakfast would have to be a little late… but if you don't mind, okay."

Ren smiled a lot brighter this time. "Great. I'll get changed and meet you downstairs in a few, yeah?"

You wanted to tell them there was no need to change with how adorable his PJs were, but kept it to yourself. You couldn't tease them like that yet. "Sure thing."

#14 days with you #14dwy redacted #14dwy #14dwy ren #momo writing #sorry it's 1am for me #normal hours are not real #self indulgence babyyy #I want redacted to come play house with me #I can cook I can clean #green titles = I'm being weird and strange 🖤

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cosmicanakin · 12 days ago

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⸝⸝ 𓈒ㅤׂ 𖦹 another dean blurb comin' ur way! 'cause i'm having WAY too much fun with writing 'em !!! originally, when this was sitting in my drafts, it was supposed t'be a full fic, but it wasn't coming out like i wanted it to, so i made it a blurb :p

warning(s) fluffy fluff fluff | implied shower sex | dean 'n his lil camera | reading gettin' a lil emotional. ୨୧

　ꢾ��　　 ⑅　　 ⁺　　₍ᐢ..ᐢ₎　　 ✺ LIBRARY.

★ bonus. divider creds @anitalenia !

DEAN WINCHESTER was never really a 'stuff' guy. his life was all about function over form, about practicality, especially when it came to hunting. but one day, on a whim—or maybe because he'd been thinking about it longer than he wanted to admit—he bought a camera. not just any camera, either, but a $5000, top-of-the-line DSLR that he told himself he'd use to take pictures of all the places he and sam traveled to when they were on hunts. you know, a way to document the life he lived beyond the blood and gore, something to look back on that wasn't just a blur of monster and mayhem.

he didn't tell you about it at first. the camera just kind of appeared one day, tucked inside his duffle, and when you asked him about it, he looked a little embarrassed. "just thought it'd be nice to take some pictures of the scenery," he said with a shrug, like it wasn't a big deal. and maybe to him, it wasn't. at least, not in the way you thought.

but instead of snapping pictures of the rundown motels and backroads they traveled for work, dean found himself using the camera for something else entirely.

it wasn't until the two of you went on a mini-vacation, a week-long stay at a beach resort that you'd been talking about for years, that he really started to use it. you love the beach—always have. there's something about the sound of the waves, the feel of the sand beneath your feet, the salty breeze tangling in your hair, that makes you feel calm. and dean, well, he loves seeing you that way. relaxed, happy, at peace. so while you were busy soaking in the sun, or wading into the water, or just staring off into the distance with that little smile on your face, he was busy capturing it all.

you didn't know, of course. dean was sneaky like that. he didn't make a big show of it, didn't tell you to 'pose' or 'smile.' he just… watched you, quietly, through the lens, snapping photos of you when you weren't paying attention. and when you finally did notice him with the camera, he'd flash you that cocky grin of his and say something like, "just taking pictures of the view."

a few days later, after one of those long, lazy showers you and dean sometimes took together (the kind that weren't just about getting clean, if you know what i mean), that you stumbled upon a little secret of his. he stayed back in the bathroom, washing off a little longer, and you were sitting on the edge of the bed, feeling that post-shower glow, when you noticed a small album tucked underneath a pile of clothes in his black duffle.

curious, you pulled it out, flipping through the pages, and your breath caught in your throat. it wasn't just pictures of random places he'd been on hunts. it was you. photo after photo of you. at the beach, of course, but also in moments you didn't even realize he'd been watching—laughing, lost in thought, maybe even sleeping. and the pictures weren't just good; they were stunning. like, they looked like something out of a magazine, the kind of photos you'd see in a vogue or some fancy travel magazine.

you couldn't believe he'd taken them.

before he could catch you snooping, you quickly put the album back where you found it, heart racing a little, and changed into your pajamas, trying to act like nothing had happened. but the pictures stayed on your mind, even as you and dean curled up in bed and ordered some room service to cap off the night.

after that, you never mentioned it to him. you didn't want to make a big deal out of it, though you kind of wanted to. instead, you found yourself sneaking the camera for your own little adventures. when dean was out or distracted, you'd pull it from his bag and take a few selfies, figuring out how to use the thing. at first, it was a little tricky—those cameras are no joke—but with a little patience, you got the hang of it. you never did anything scandalous, just some cute pictures of yourself, and then you'd put it back in its place before dean could notice it was gone.

and he never did. at least, not until one night in your shared apartment. you were in the kitchen, snacking on some chocolate-covered strawberries dean had picked up on his way home from a hunt (because, in his words, they reminded him of you), and you were nose-deep in a romance novel you'd been dying to read. you heard him walking down the hallway, but you didn't think much of it. you were too wrapped up in your book and your snack, the perfect cozy day in.

what you didn't realize was that dean had found out about your little secret. he'd been going through the camera, checking out some new shots he'd taken, when he stumbled upon your selfies. not just the recent ones, either—he found all of them.

so when he came into the kitchen, camera in hand, he wasn't mad. in fact, he had this look on his face—kind of amused, kind of in awe. "so, you've been stealing my camera, huh?" he asked, a grin tugging at the corners of his lips.

you looked up at him, mouth full of strawberry, and gave him your cheekiest smile. "maybe," you said.

he didn't mind, though. if anything, he seemed impressed that you'd managed to sneak past him without him noticing. but later that same night, as you were getting ready for bed, you noticed something on his bedside table—a second album, smaller than the one you'd found before.

curiosity piqued again, you opened it up, and what you saw made your heart melt. dean had taken all the photos from the other album and added more—your selfies, the pictures he'd taken of you, everything. but this time, he'd decorated the pages with little stickers and captions in his messy, but endearing, handwriting. things like 'my beautiful girl,' 'my little mermaid,' 'my baby going for a swim.'

tears welled up in your eyes as you flipped through the pages, overwhelmed by how sweet and thoughtful it all was.

before you could even process it fully, you felt dean's arms wrap around you from behind, his bare chest warm against your back. you turned around in his embrace, wrapping your arms around his neck and peppering kisses all over his face. "you really did all this for me?" you asked softly.

he nodded, his expression soft and sincere. "yeah, baby. wanted somethin' to remember you by when i'm out on hunts. somethin' special."

he even told you that he kept one of your selfies in his wallet, and that he loved showing it off to anyone who'd listen—sam, other hunters, whoever. "you're my girl," he said, pride in his voice.

and you couldn't help but smile wide, knowing that, no matter where the road took him, DEAN WINCHESTER was always thinking of you.

… his pretty girl.

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fanaticsnail · 6 months ago

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He's in love with you

Masterlist here

Word Count: 1,500+

Synopsis: Benn Beckman can no longer ignore the way he feels about you, and it's eating him alive.

Themes: Benn Beckman x reader, unrequited (requitted) love, idiots in love, teasing, kissing, sfw, fluff, comfort, confessions of love.

Notes: @tiredemomama said she was having a bad time recently, and her love for Becks was one of the things that's keeping her chin up. I thought it'd be nice to reassure you that your fictional hazubando loves you too - so I wrote a little something for you. I hope you don't mind, honey!

Tag List: @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training @gingernut1314 @i-am-vita @indydonuts @feral-artistry @since-im-already-here @sordidmusings @writingmysanity

Benn Beckman, the second in command to Red-Haired Shanks, is stoic and abrasive most of the time. He keeps his emotions hidden beneath his cool exterior to not give himself up to the pool of emotion swirling within the chasms of his chest. While his grimace never leaves his face, there truly is no hiding how he feels about you.

This gunslinging vice-captain is in love with you. Desperately in love with you.

Always observing from afar, his gaze floats over the margins of the newspaper in his hands. Raking his eyes subtly enough to not draw attention to himself, he wordlessly dotes on you from his position on the deck with his eyes soft and filled with love and devotion. This first mate is absolutely smitten with you, and he hopes his affections are hidden enough to escape notice.

It has not, however, escaped the attention of the Yonko captain you both serve under. Oh, absolutely not.

Shanks clocked that development before he thought Beckman, himself, knew what was growing in his heart. His observation and affections for both you, and his competent first mate, had him positively itching to meddle in the growing affection between you. But he decided to ‘be good,’ and watch the sparks ignite the gunpowder to set ablaze the fireworks show.

It started with little things: Beckman trailing your form when you sauntered into town, throwing himself between you and harms way when engaged in combat, offering to watch your drink for you when you went to bars and taverns. Then it developed into something a little deeper.

Beckman often wrote you little notes, slipping them to you subtly beneath the dining room table in front of the crew when he thinks nobody is watching. The notes would be anything from: ‘do you need anything from town today?’ or ‘you seem down, do you want to talk about it?’ He would only ever do this to ensure you were comfortable, not drawing attention to you if you didn't want to be seen.

Then it got a little more obvious to the crew that he was smitten with you. He would escort you into rooms with his hand on the small of your back, holding open doors for you if you were wandering in beside him, offering to carry your equipment for you because ‘it's just easier that way.’

After a while, the crew all witnessed the obvious favoritism Beckman was gifting you with. The only person who was yet to catch on to his affections was the one person who mattered.

You had absolutely no clue. Although not overly oblivious to the new attention the chainsmoker was giving you, you honestly mistook his friendliness for exactly that.

Friendliness.

You were good friends, close friends. The closest two friends could ever be. Picking out potential couplings in towns for one another was an often happenstance. Pretty men and women were often the topic of conversation, and you had always demonstrated your keen eye with your choices for him. That was until the day he refused them all. There was nobody he would rather spend his time with than you, and he needed to let you know as such.

He couldn't play this little game with you any longer. The heartache that came from neglecting his emotions for too long had him a little more furious and pent up than usual. Every member of the crew, including you, had noticed his attitude switch. You decide to do something about it, changing the roles and becoming the one in your friendship to check in with him first.

Seeking him out after a day out in a rural town, he was leaning over the barricade on the pier and staring out into sea. His gray orbs were narrowed and focussed, and his cigarette hung limply from his lips. You apprehensively press your hand on his shoulder, breaking him away from his thoughts and turning to face you.

His features soften briefly before they return back to his usual grimace. You expect him to shrug off your hand from his shoulder, but his body seems to lean into the gentle touch and hold you there for as long as you give him. Without words, you furrow your brows curiously at him and give his shoulder a gentle squeeze.

Sighing into the touch, he closes his eyes and sizzles out the lessening end of the cigarette on the wooden barricade beside him. After thumbing the filter end into the hard surface, he turns back to you: your hand still pressed firmly on his shoulder. As you go to withdraw your hand from his shoulder, he immediately grips your wrist and hovers your retreating hand above his face.

Slowly and apprehensively, he draws your wrist to his lips and presses them tenderly to the palm of your hand. His eyes search yours for any apprehension or hesitation to his small advance, and upon finding none, he lowers his lips to your wrist and places them over your rapidly beating pulse point.

Your wide eyes go half-lidded the moment he presses his lips to your wrist, looking up at him with nothing but love and adoration. He mirrors your expression, his eyes falling glazed as he bares his eyes intensely into your own.

“Is this why you’ve been acting like an asshole, big guy?” you ask him with a knowing smile growing on your lips. He chuckles down at you while blinking slowly. Leaning his forehead down, he presses it against your own while circling your captured wrist around his neck.

“‘M not actin’ like an asshole, Darlin’,” his smooth baritone gently informed you with a soft hint of mockery, “Just actin’ like a guy who knows what he wants, but doesn’t know what to do about it.” There were two reactions Beckman was expecting from you at this very moment. The first was you leaning in and pressing your lips against his. The other was for you to recoil and turn down his advances.

He was not expecting you to taunt him with a gentle tease.

“Ooh,” you hum up at him, “Oh, you must really like me.” You scrunch your nose up and grin as you pull away from contact against his forehead, “You want to kiss me. You want to hold me. You want to claim me.” You giggled, lulling your head to the side and poking your tongue out at him.

Beckman immediately puffed out his broad chest before stooping down and circling his arms around your waist. You squeaked in shock, eyes again growing wide as he lifted you into his arms. In reaction, you hooked your other arm around his neck and pressed your own chest into his.

“Somethin’ wrong with all that, Darlin’?” he whispered huskily into your face, his lips hovering over yours while he tilted his face into yours, “You don’t want me to?” Your lips part in reaction, quivering gently as he continues to hover his face a whisper’s length away from you.

“Kiss me,” you whisper into his lips, leaning your lips closer to his and waiting for him to close the distance. He pulled his face away with a mischievous grin, his eyes narrowed and looking down his nose at you.

“Ask me nicely,” he retorted cockily back at you. He was so close you could taste his withheld kiss. Wanting nothing more than all you mocked him with, you humbled yourself and did as he asked.

“Kiss me please, Beckman,” you whispered, your eyes focussed entirely on his lips, “I want nothing more than you.” His grin dropped, his eyes darkened, and he immediately heeded your humble request.

A dance of lips and tongues pressed repressed and hidden emotion in a passionate embrace. His rumbled groan fled unbridled and breathily from his lips into yours, as your muffled whimper was claimed behind his mouth. It felt as if the waves of passion had swollen and spilled in a greedy and desperate kiss from your beloved first-mate.

Turning your bodies, he sat you on the railing he was leaning against prior and slotted his hips between your thighs. Rotating your head and angling your chin, you could taste the lingering flavor of his last cigarette on his tongue as it brushed with yours. His stubble scratched at your cheeks as you felt him begin to smile against your lips.

Raking his hands from your back over your thighs, he gripped the muscle and held you firmly in place before breaking his lips away from yours. Placing a few more soft and close-lipped kisses against your lips, he finally withdrew his face from yours.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” he uttered breathily while shying his smile away from you, “‘S been a long time comin’. Didn’t wanna frighten you with the intensity too soon.” You collected his cheek with your hand and turned his eyes back to meet with yours.

You offer him nothing more than your smile before leaning forward and pressing a soft kiss against his lips in response.

Watching on from a distance, an exchange of Berry from Yassop, Roux and Limejuice appear in Shanks’ outstretched hand and toothy grin. Beckman had finally admitted his affections for you, and your beloved Captain could not be happier about it. Especially now that the largest wad of Berry from Hongo appeared in his hands.

“Drinks are on me, lads!” he called, turning around and laughing merrily as he reentered the tavern. Neither you nor Beckman heard the exchange, choosing to remain in each other's aura and enjoying the warmth growing in your chests with the sparks of new beginnings.

#one piece #x reader #benn beckman #moots mooting #beckman x reader #benn beckman x reader #one piece x reader #red-hair pirates #beckman #op beckman

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krirebr · 25 days ago

Note

random hoeing:

Steve catching you in the rain, his white shirt completely soaked and transparent

Ok, this has to be Neighbor Steve.

Warnings: explicit language, more fluff than I normally do, completely unedited, 18+ - MINORS DNI

After Steve caught you ogling him during the heatwave, the tone of your conversations when you run into him in your building has gotten decidedly flirtier. But for whatever reason, that's where it's stopped. As much as you've tried to send signals that you are very open to more, he's never taken you up on it. Which is fine. It's fine. Totally fine. You are very cool with it. The thought of it definitely doesn't make you shrivel up inside. You are so cool.

All of that is the furthest thing from your mind right now, though, as you and your dog run through the rain. It'd been such a nice day, but as you hit the halfway point of your usual longer route, the sky unexpectedly opened up and you and your poor dog were hit by an absolute downpour. Now, finally home, you're both completely soaked and desperate to get inside and dry.

After some fumbling, you get the door to your building unlocked and opened. Just as you're about to get inside and let the door close behind you, you hear your name ring out. You turn around to see Steve hurrying up the path. "Hold the door!" he yells.

You freeze, doing as he asked. Holy shit. He's just as soaked as you, but while you're sure you look like a drowned rat, he very much does not. He– Well. He– He's wearing that damned white t-shirt again. Except it's not white now, it's translucent. You can see everything – that tattoo you spotted before, and a few more to go with it, an incredible set of abs, nipples. Holy shit.

He quickly ushers you inside, thank god, because you can't move on your own, your eyes still stuck to his chest. "Fuck, that came out of nowhere, huh?" he chuckles.

The moment you're out of the rain, your dog proceeds to do her best to shake herself dry, as if the three of you weren't already dripping all over the entryway. "Oh, shit," you mumble, reaching for her without really knowing what to do.

Steve just laughs. And then does it himself, shaking out his golden locks. Part of his hair flops down over his forehead, and you do your best to hold in your gasp. Really it's just so unfair that he could get caught in a rainstorm and come out looking like that. What the actual fuck? you think to yourself.

Except, judging by the way his head whips around to look at you, maybe you didn't think it. Maybe it was more out loud than you'd meant. Oh god. You immediately start babbling, which is unfortunately just as uncontrollable as the initial slip-up you're trying to make up for. "Oh, god, I'm so sorry. I just– I mean– Look at you!" You throw a wild gesture at him as he just stares at you with his mouth open, trying to take in your ramble. "It's cats and dogs out there and you look like that?? While I–" another wild gesture, at yourself this time. "I just– How is it fair that you're so beautiful??"

"You think I'm beautiful?" he finally manages to interject.

"Huh?" And that's when your brain finally catches up. Oh dear god. What is wrong with you?? You cautiously glance at him to find him staring at you, not upset, but like he's trying to figure you out. Fuck it, you suddenly think. You've already embarrassed yourself. You have nothing left to lose. "You wanna get dinner with me sometime?"

You swear that the smile that blooms on Steve's face is bright and warm enough to dry you both off. "I was starting to worry I was reading your signals wrong. Yeah. Yeah, I'd love to."

Your answering smile is strong enough to push all the clouds away.

☔

Thanks for the fun prompt, Eva!

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@stargazingfangirl18 @yenzys-lucky-charm @thezombieprostitute @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @bval-1 @km-ffluv @texmexdarling @ladyvenera @roxyfan14-blog @darkserenity24 @midnightramyeoncravings @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @ronearoundblindly @brandycranby @steviebbboi @missaprilt23

#ask kris #biteofcherry #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers #captain america #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers drabble #cevans characters #chris evans fanfiction #drabble #asks are always welcome

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sebastainstansupremacy · 4 months ago

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Before he Cheats

'Before he Cheats' inspired by Before he Cheats by Carrie Underwood

Pairing - Toxic!Rafe x Toxic!Reader

Warnings - 18+, mentions of; drug use, alcohol use, abusive behaviour, toxic relationship, sex, degrading?

Word Count - 1455

Note - I write so many fics and never post them so decided to share one. Couldn't resist my first short one being a toxic Rafe one because of course he's an angry, jealous and psychotic boy. But so are you!?

No one thought anyone could match Rafe's quite literally bat-shit-crazy attitude, but you could. The two of you were the epitome of toxic love. A constant cycle of screaming arguments; things being thrown from one to another, both verbally and physically; cheating on one another in a hopes to make the other jealous, which always worked; the endless debate of whether you were a couple or not; and in those very few moments you both saw sense which ended in extremely hot, steamy, rough make up sex.

The thing was neither of you could be apart, you would never find another lover. It was easy enough to find a quick fuck, someone to make the other envious, but there wasn't a person in the entirety of Outer Banks that would be willing to see past your psychotic behaviours, or your ex's. You may be the hottest little thing in Figure 8 with all puffy, pouty lips and dark siren eyes, but the risk of their life if they came within an inch of Rafe was not worth it.

And so, here you were again - seething. You saw red, nothing but rage coursing through your veins, staring at him from across the bar not taking a single interest in the cute guy trying to converse with you, tempting as it was. Instead watching your current 'ex' or 'boyfriend', after the argument you two had the night prior which left your voice horse and his face still lingering with a slightly pink stain of your hand print on his cheek, flirting with some bleach blonde bitch wearing a skimpy little top which did nothing for her small tits.

You felt bad for the girl, sure she'd get a quickie out of him; he'd take her to the bathroom, not before purchasing a greasy condom that that had probably been in the machine longer than he'd been on earth, give her a half arsed fuck leaving her unsatisfied but most certainly wanting more from him. Which he could never give her.

Your eyes squinting so violently at her, you might have actually broken the glass of cheap cocktail she was trying to seductively sip on. Rafe on the other hand was doing a very good job at pretending you didn't exist, probably the combination of whiskey and coke making him disoriented. It'd be a miracle if he could even hear anything the bleach blonde was saying to him but he could definitely feel her hands, the ones covered in chipped white nail polish, getting a little too frisky for your liking.

Though the second you felt a pair of large hands getting a little too frisky on your own waist, a small smirk appeared on your face. Two can play at that game, Cameron. It didn't take long for your tongue to be slipped down the throat of the handsome guy, who name you hadn't asked for or hadn't heard when he had been attempting to chat you up. He'd whispered something about pining you down in the back of his car and giving you a ride.

Your cunt already dripping wet, not at the thought of getting fucked by this hot guy (that was a bonus) but at the sight of Rafe all red faced with those veins on his forehead slightly bulging due to the fact that he was furious that you were being satisfied by another man. Slipping effortlessly from the stool you had been sat at, the alcohol you had been consuming, a little too quickly, washing over your being and giving you that last bit of confidence to really piss Rafe off.

Hands pulling you towards the exit of the dimly lit bar, your head turning once more to look at Rafe, whose interest had finally peaked, his eyes glaring over at you in disgust. You flash him a petty smile before leaving, door slamming behind you. That was his cue to take little miss desperate to the bathroom and fuck his anger away.

Led there in the back of this random guys car, seemingly unsatisfied. It was over before it began, pretty boy all putty in your hands, or pussy. Cum dripping down your thigh as you sat up to pull your lacy red thong up, the one Rafe loved so much. You were kinda hoping it'd been his seed filling you up.

"We should do this again sometime", he whispered in your ear, a little too close for comfort now you had what you wanted from him. You didn't respond, just a small 'hmm' escaping your wet lips. His phone shoved into your hands, clearly wanting your number. He wasn't getting it. And so you typed your name into the contacts app followed by a phone number, it wasn't yours. It was Rafe's.

You knew that would stir up a storm but you didn't care, you found it hilarious. The thought of Rafe receiving a text from some random number asking if he wanted to come over and fuck. The reaction would be priceless. For about 2 seconds, before he was all up in your face shouting and screaming, smashing his phone against the floor in a hissy.

And with that, you slid out of the door of this random guys car, blowing him a kiss and winking. "Text me sometime" you joked, you loved watching these desperate men fall at your feet, it was too easy. Suddenly feeling very uncomfortable at the post sex sticky feeling between your legs, you decided it was best you left, went back home and slept away your drunken state.

As tempting as it was to stride back into the bar, drag that little bitch off your man and demand he give you a real fuck so you didn't have find it else where; a rare rational thought crossed your mind that making a scene was not the best coping mechanism. You could deal with it another day, when you were sober.

But you loved to make a scene, get Rafe all riled up. Only because you know he'd fuck that bratty attitude out of you, even if it was only until you rode out your high then you'd be back to your usual spiteful self. And when your eyes landed on his shiny Range Rover sat all pretty and pristine, an evil smirk crossed your face.

It wasn't like you were doing something so unforgivable, he'd done the same to your car a couple months prior. Slashed your tires so you couldn't leave in the mist of an argument, shouting something about 'facing the consequences of your actions'. Days later you had 4 fresh new tires, curtsy of his truly.

And if he hadn't replaced them your dad would have anyway. It was no secret that just like Rafe you were a spoilt little brat, receiving anything and everything from your wealthy parents. Their only child, meant you were a pamper princess, they didn't help feeding into your delusions. They were wrapped around your fingers.

You were doing he a favour really, he shouldn't drive in his state even though he usually would. So you took the pocket knife which was tucked away in your purse, a gift from Rafe that was 'for your own safety', ironic really using it to slide a long, deep scratch into the side of the black car. Slashing a hole in all four of his tires. Contemplating smashing the glass or the headlights, but that could wait till a later date. Maybe you'd use his own golf clubs to do that.

You left the pocket knife neatly sat on the hood of the car, just to make it extremely clear it was you who had ruined his prized possession. Not that anyone else would dare do such a thing to Rafe Cameron, but you would because it didn't matter what you did he'd always come crawling back to and vice versa.

One last look at the mess you'd caused before swiftly leaving the scene of the crime. Ruining him always left you with adrenaline coursing through your blood, maybe it was the feeling of excitement and anticipation you felt wondering what would happen next. How he'd react. More times than non it was anger.

By the time you had showered off the regret of hooking up with another random stranger and led down on your bed, the room still slightly spinning, your phone which you had thrown onto the floor earlier, flickering on 1% had hundreds of missed and texts from Rafe. You didn't bother to call him back just shooting him a quick text watching the blue bar slowly deliver the message before the battery gave in and the entire screen went black.

You; maybe next time you'll think before you cheat :/

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron blurb #toxic!rafe #toxic!rafe x toxic!reader #outer banks fic #outer banks rafe

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reds-skull · 22 days ago

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CW FLASHING IN THE VIDEO (3rd from the bottom)

This is it. 3 months in the works, the comic (and video) are finally done.

A little over a year ago, I uploaded the first work in Revenant AU, Ghost's origin comic. I never thought I'd write a whole series for this, but I'm so glad I did. I got a whole new hobby out of it, haha.

I already began working on part 2, but this for me marks the start of it. I'm really excited to get back into this world!

Under the cut there are some comments on the comic I thought some people might be interested in (don't wanna make this post longer than it already is lol). I will upload the frames from the video separately, with comments on it there.

Bottom line is, thank you for letting me just go wild with this :)

Okay, I'm mostly gonna talk about the part where Fate shows Makarov the 141+Farah. Makarov doesn't see the Fate of people as literal images, he often has to interpret odd symbolism in the flashes he gets from the Weave of Fate.

I decided to go for a style I saw in a collection of calling cards in MW3, mainly from this one:

You can really see it in the faces and pitch-black cel shading.

I'll be going in order of appearance, starting with Farah.

Obviously, each of the "flashes" shows the Reaping of each person, Farah being crushed under rubble. Behind her is a helo of green gas, which symbolizes the Russian experimental gas. The motifs around her are more interesting imo - they're taken from the Urzik flag (and yeah apparently it's "Urzik" and not "Urzikstani"... according to the wiki at least). Wings, plants (feels to me like a pomegranate and some sort of crop, but I couldn't find what it is specifically), and a moon, upside down.

I'm skipping ahead a bit, but I've had the idea to make a drawing of Gaz in the Hanged Man pose since I started the AU basically. I tried sketching it once, and it went bad so I gave up lol. But I decided to come back to that here, and add some sort of tarot connection to all of them. I know practically nothing about tarot, googled the meanings of each, they fit well enough, I called it a day lol.

So Farah is the Moon, upside down.

Price is next, showing him taking control of the brain of someone. I didn't use the flag of the UK for the 141 (it'd be kinda boring...), instead I took the Taskforce 141 logo, and broke it down to different elements.

I took the laurels for Price, both framing his illustration and sitting above his head like a crown. I decided he will be the Emperor.

Next up is Gaz, the Hanged Man of course. Gaz gets both the wings and the stars (I changed mine to 4-pointed because... I like them better). Pretty clear why, both symbols relate to the sky. The illustrations kinda follow a rough day cycle, if that makes sense. Farah being night, with the moon. Price with his golden and purple color palette, twilight. Gaz being sunrise, and Ghost and Soap, day. This is why Gaz has a sun behind him.

Ghost was fun because he's the only inhuman one out of the group. I'll let you think what that implies, that even in Fate's Weave, Ghost is an outlier... Ghost gets the skull, and the card "Death". That one was easy, but what I did add is blood flowing down the skulls, like tear tracks...

Soap, the problem child, gave me the most issues as always. For once, it wasn't his fucking face, it was the flames behind him, and overall contrast and readability issues. Soap's illustration is probably packed with the most "hidden" details, though they're obvious if you've read the fic and Konchar's side story. The headless man behind Soap is Konchar himself, holding 4 chains with dog tags on them. The 4 soldiers from Soap's squad, who he killed before Soap was Reaped. Soap's pose is from the moment he came to his senses, after getting shot in the head and destroying a large part of Verdansk. He has 4 swords, pointing at him and downwards, so his card is 4 of Swords, upside down.

Between Soap and Ghost is a circle and a triangle. I'll explain that in the post concerning the video, since that's where I got that from.

If you read all of this, thank you so much! There will be another post for you to read in a moment lol

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runnning-outof-time · 2 months ago

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Some Calm in the Midst of War | Wartime!Tommy Shelby x Reader

request: yes by @cybubuvubbu

pairing: Wartime!Tommy Shelby x Reader

summary: (Y/N) meets a soldier in a club. Not wanting to let go of this taste of calm amidst all of the chaos, they extend their moment of revelry into something a bit longer.

warnings: language, smoking, talks of war, suggestive situations (pg-13 in nature…I think)

word count: 1721

a/n: so this is what I decided to do in order to get these requests that have been sitting for months out to read. I really focused on just letting all of the inhibitions about it go and writing. Whatever gets put down gets put down, and however it gets put down flies also. I’m sorry if this isn’t what you were hoping for/looking forward to from me, but please know that I’m doing this in hopes that it’ll help me figure out what I want to do next. Ok, I’m sorry for making this so long…enjoy! :)

a/n 2: I just can’t bring myself to write completely nsfw stuff but I wanted to take this request in this direction, so I hope anyone won’t be annoyed at the fact that it’s not explicit smut. This’ll probably be the closest my writing will ever get to it.

I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!

comment/message me if you want to be tagged!

The unlikely pair met in a club. She was - once - a woman of higher class, and he was a man whose family lived on next to nothing. But now because the war had ripped through both of their lives, they were finding solace in each other.

He couldn't take his eyes off of her all night. She was there with some of the ladies who she worked alongside as a field nurse. He'd come into town with his company, whom he was in command of.

Both looking for some semblance of what their lives used to be; looking for a way to escape the hell they’d been stuck in.

She was the one who approached him. "Saw you staring from across the bar," she started, her confidence earning some whistles from the men who were accompanying the man she was speaking to. One was even quick to leave his stool, offering the space to her. The man was surprised how quickly his men left them alone. "Thought it'd be a crime not to come and talk with you," she brought his attention back to her, her lips curved up into a smile.

He didn't know what to say at first. Prior to this, he wasn't sure if he was even going to take things further than a couple glances in her direction. But now he couldn't take his eyes off of her, and shit... he still didn't know what to say! A laugh filled with disbelief left his lips as he finally tore his eyes from hers.

He took a drag from his cigarette before looking her way again. One thing he wasn't going to do in this situation was fuck this opportunity up.

The two didn't talk much. Sure a brief conversation occurred, but it wasn't long before she was pulling them to the dance floor so they could join in with all of the other carefree couples.

The fact that he wanted to stay after the first song was over shocked her. It was evident though that she was the only reason he wanted to stay.

They exchanged a kiss before even exchanging names.

It wasn't surprising to see how quickly they became engrossed in one another. All they'd known for the last stretch of time was war and the feelings, not to mention sights, of terror that came with it. Neither knew when they'd get another moment like this...so they most certainly weren't going to waste it.

Their connection grew over the next several dances they shared. Soon enough the tender at the bar was yelling last call and they were ordering one last drink together.

Both weren't able to find the groups that they'd arrived with, so they decided to bask in each other's company for as long as they were able.

They finally got to talking, sitting at the bar until the keeper was telling them they needed to leave.

It was during these conversations that they found out just how different of lives they had led prior to this point. Funny how war had the ability to blur the class lines. Neither cared at the moment that the other wouldn’t have even spared a glance prior to now. They simply cared about feeling human again.

She brought him back to the room she'd been given for her brief time of leave from the field hospital. Tensions had risen between them as they walked closely together down the street. There was purpose in their step and things reached a fever point the second they stepped across the threshold into the small room.

The slightest look was shared before their lips met. No words needed to be spoken. What they both wanted was written clear across their faces.

Their walk to the bed looked more like a dance as they blindly fumbled with each others’ clothes. By the time her back hit the mattress, she was left in a blouse and underwear and he his trousers.

Another look was shared as a pause was taken. They were both breathing heavily, but this time he asked: “are you sure?”

She blinked a few times, as if it was her own way of checking that he was indeed real and that this was really happening. She couldn’t remember the last time she was in a position like this. The longer the pause was held, the more it became evident that she would be insane not to let the opportunity pass. “So sure,” she breathed in response, a smile playing on her lips.

His mesmerizing blue eyes turned a shade darker as he heard her response. A grin spread across his lips, and he brought his hand up to take hold of her cheek before she matched her lips to his again.

Their kisses were slower this time around. Both wanted to savor this moment, as they knew it may be the last like it they’d ever get. Inhibitions were thrown out alongside the rest of their garments and nothing more was said as they found a connection with each other.

Sweat stuck to their bodies and he made sure to hold her close, both reeling from the feeling the other was giving them.

They couldn’t remember the last time they felt this good. It was a feeling they never wanted to end.

Leaving was something neither of the two even thought about when they were finished. Their limbs stayed winded together, and they continued to exchange languid kisses as they came down from their highs.

“Shelby,” she breathed, her eyes focusing on the disc that was hanging around his neck. The disc that would be used to identify him if something were to happen in the field of battle.

Its presence made reality return to her mind. A reminder of the war they were still very much engrossed in flooded her thoughts, shrouding the state of bliss that she was previously experiencing.

“Tommy,” his voice brought her out of her thoughts.

“Huh?” she asked, focusing on him again with furrowed brows.

“My name’s Tommy,” he clarified.

“It’s nice to meet you, Tommy,” she said, then giggling as the context of the situation came to mind…usually these sort of introductions were done before she joined a man in bed.

Tommy cracked a grin at her statement, a chuckle leaving his lips before he leaned down to kiss hers, stifling her laughter in the process. “What’s your name?” he asked as they broke apart.

“(Y/N),” she answered, her smile still present.

“It’s nice to meet you, (Y/N),” he used the same greeting as she had, and they both began laughing again.

Their laughter subsided as their eyes met, and the tension they’d been feeling from the moment he spotted her at the club arose again. Nothing more was said as their lips molded together for the umpteenth time that evening.

Tommy was the one to break away, but he didn’t move far. He kissed a line from her lips down to her jaw and settled against the crook of her neck. (Y/N) sighed wantonly at the feeling, her hands tangling in the longer parts of his hair as her heart rate increased.

“Tommy…” his name was uttered in a breathy moan, “Tommy, I don’t…” she couldn’t quite keep her thoughts straight as his lips trailed lower, finding a new home in the valley between her breasts. It was becoming harder to think with each passing second, but she felt she needed to get these thoughts out. “I don’t usually do this—I’m not usually like this.”

He stopped his ministrations and lifted his head to look at her again. She sighed at the loss of feeling. “What do you mean?” he asked, his brows furrowing together in confusion when it took her a few moments to respond.

“I’m not usually this…” she paused, struggling to think of the right word, “…easy,” was what she finally settled on, although it still felt as if there were better words to use.

Tommy’s brows straightened only slightly. “I never thought you were,” he told her honestly.

“Things have been so different with the war and all,” she continued to explain herself even though he didn’t ask her to, “it’s been so long—too long, since I’ve been in a situation like this so forgive me for being unsure of what now needs to be done, but I just…my fear is that I won’t have a chance to experience this again…” she paused, feeling her chest tighten, “things are so uncertain now…”

“Hey…” he cut her off she could continue. She bit on her bottom lip to stop it from quivering, unable to match his gaze for fear of it making her tears fall. “Look at me, love,” he gently coaxed her, his hand cupping her cheek so that he could make their eyes meet. A solemn expression was present on his features as he reached up to brush away a tear with his thumb.

“I’m sorry,” (Y/N) apologized, now feeling pathetic for turning their passionate moment into this.

“Don’t be,” Tommy shook his head, his thumb running gently against her cheekbone. He searched her eyes for a moment before continuing, “no harm will ever come to you,” he told her, “not from me, not from anyone else…not while I’m here,” his words were spoken with the utmost truth, and his eyes never wavered from hers.

(Y/N) wasn’t sure what to say. She’d never had someone profess something like this to her…especially not someone who was a stranger a few hours ago. But in this moment it felt so right, and hearing those words alone gave her some hope that maybe they’d both be okay.

She smiled at him, reaching up to slowly run her hand against his jawline. “You’ll be here?” she asked him, her eyebrows raising slightly.

“Until I can’t be,” he assured her, a smile playing on his lips.

His response made (Y/N)’s smile widen, and nothing more was said as she gently took hold of his chin and brought his lips to hers once more.

Staying true to his word, Tommy stayed with (Y/N) until they both had to ship out to their posts again. Both were equally grateful to enjoy some calm in the midst of war.

Check out THIS ARTICLE that I found about the history of how identification tags were used throughout time — it’s such an intriguing read!

**ALSO - the italized words that Tommy said at the end were taken from the caption on the photo from the request, which were taken from the movie The Edge of Love.

MASTERLIST

Tagged: @mystcldydrms @the-anxious-youth @cloudofdisney @look-at-the-soul @elenavampire21

@mrsalwayswrite @julkaamazing @evita-shelby @theshelbyslimited @peakyswritings

@just-a-blackhole @watercolorskyy @strayrockette @peakyduchesss @alexxavicry

@captivatedbycillianmurphy @yummycastiel @dark-academia-slut @tommystargirl @emotionalcadaver

@stevie75 @lyarr24 @signorellisantichrist @zablife @anotherblinder

@cillmequick @strayrockette @dandelionprints @letal-y-poetica @garrison-girl-08

@insanitybyanothername @depxiety @justrainandcoffee @dragons-are-my-favorite @mrs-bond

@cljordan-imperium @brummiereader @red-riding-wood @everythingelseisextra @little-diable

@thomashelbyswife @shaddixlife @ryecosse @padfootdaredmetoo @novashelby

#tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby x you #tommy shelby x y/n #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby fanfiction #tommy shelby fic #peaky blinders #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders x y/n #peaky blinders x you #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fic #fanfic #fanfiction

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writeroutoftime · 8 months ago

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precious secret

pairing: eris vanserra x fem!reader

summary: eris has kept you - his mate - a secret for years, not wanting any harm to come to you. but when his hands are tied, he must turn to an unlikely ally to offer you protection

warnings: minor mentions of violence against reader (split lip, not graphic description), beron - enough said

words: 1.5k

a/n: alright, I am in love with eris - at least the fanon version of him lol. and I'm such a sucker for stories where he tries to protect his mate from his father, so I humbly offer this as my submission. please enjoy and it'd be great if you let me know what you think! have a great day everyone!

oOoOo

A sense of fear palpated through Eris' heart with every purposeful stride his took down the halls of Forest House. His palms were sweaty, and his skin felt flushed, a stark contrast to the cool and collected exterior he normally presented.

The moment his trusted guard had let him know of your situation, his mind could think only of the worst possible scenarios. The worst images his mind could mangle before his eyes flooded his senses, and he knew the only remedy would be to see, hear, and touch you.

Upon reaching your room, he slammed open the door and immediately rushed to your side. His hands automatically reached to cup your cheeks, eyes frantically scanning for blood, bruises, anything that could cause you pain. It didn't take long for his eyes to zero in on the blood that ran along your lips.

Hands shaking, Eris reached out to gently wipe the blood away with his thumb. Your instinctive flinch caused a pain to wash over his body. He never wanted to be the cause of your pain. You sent a wave of reassurance down the golden bond, but it did little to assure him.

"It's worse than it looks." you tried, grasping his wrist, holding his palm against your cheek.

Eris growled, eyes hardening as though his mind had not registered your words. "What happened?

There was a moment of hesitation from your side, but with a soft sigh you let your mate in the morning's events. "Word got out to Beron that there had been sightings of us together. He let me off with a warning for lesser fae such as myself to stay away from the likes of you."

"This can't go on." he spoke, scoffing at his father's words.

Now it was your turn to panic. "W-what do you mean?"

"It's not safe for you to stay here any longer." he clarified, gaze softening ever so slightly.

"I'm not leaving you." you demanded, holding your ground.

"Love, we thought we were being careful and look what happened. What am I to do if this becomes a regular occurrence. It will ease my mind to know you are safe and out of harm's way."

"Away from you." you argued, nuzzling your head into his neck as you tried to stop the tears that burned against your eyes.

"Just for a little while." he promised. "Just until I know it's safe to bring you back." softly pressing a kiss to the crown of your head.

"I don't know where I shall go." you admitted.

It pained you to think of leaving the Autumn Court - your home. Yes, Beron was a horrible, cruel ruler, but there was still so much good to be found outside of his clutches. The breathtaking scenery, your family, and, of course, all the beautiful moments you and your mate created together. If you left would you ever see any of it again?

"I'll take care of it." Eris said, drifting off into silence as he savored the last night he had to hold you for the time being.

oOoOo

Eris strolled through the halls of River House, trademark smirk upon his features as he came into view of his reluctant allies. Rhysand and Feyre draped themselves across two chairs at their grand table, looking warily at the heir to the Autumn Court.

"High Lord, High Lady, a pleasure as always." Eris greeted, bowing slightly to the rulers of the Night Court. Though, it didn't escape his notice the close eye that the rest of the Inner Circle kept on him.

"Eris," Rhysand acknowledged, trying to be diplomatic. "to what do we owe this unexpected visit?"

There was a long pause in which Eris took a deep breath and pushed aside the snarky comments, the masked facade, and allowed the Night Court to see him in his true form. "I am here to ask you to provide sanctuary for a member of the Autumn Court." he spoke, choosing his words carefully.

Feyre cocked her head to the side, as if trying to decipher a hidden cipher in Eris' words. "And why do you presume we have any obligation to help someone associated with you?"

Eris' palms burned with a heat that threatened to burst free and wreak havoc. A reaction that had become more common after solidifying the mating bond with you all those years ago. But he tamped down said flames, knowing anger wouldn't get him anywhere. So, the red-headed swallowed his pride and tried another approach.

"I know I have no room to ask such a request, but please." Eris pled, bending to bow before the Night Court on one knee. "If not for my sake, then do it for the sake of - of my mate. For the innocent female who has had the misfortune of falling in love with me." he confessed, revealing his most precious card.

All eyes of the Inner Circle widened in surprise, and Feyre couldn't contain her gasp at Eris' words. None of them had ever had any inkling there was someone tied to Eris in that way, but from the shake in his voice, to the bowing of his head, they knew he spoke only the truth.

"I still need time to take control of Autumn from my father, and it is no longer safe for her there." he continued. "But once I am High Lord, she will be able to return to me. Until then, this is the safest place I know of for her. Name your price, and I swear it will be done."

Rhys and Feyre shared a look, silently conversing. Even the powerful High Lord was taken aback by the confession and felt a small pang in his own heart. His mind shifted to Feyre and the lengths he had gone to protect and everything he would continue to do if necessary -what he would do, what he would promise, what he would give up. All just to know she was safe, regardless of his own well-being. He saw those same feelings reflected in Eris' eyes. No longer was he an arrogant heir before them, but a male in love and desperate.

"That is a bold offer to make." Rhys spoke, his voice commanding always one with a flair for dramatics. He saw the way Eris flinched in worry, so he quickly put the male out of his misery. "But we accept."

The relief Eris felt washed over him instantaneously, his shoulders sagging in relief. "Thank you." he whispered, so overcome with emotion, he didn't know how else to emote his gratitude. "I am at your disposal to the best of my ability when you call in your favor" he spoke, standing up.

The thought of Rhysand now having a favor to dangle over his head sent a small chill down his spine. But he would offer a thousand favors to the male if it would guarantee your safety. It should have scared him, but Eris knew that wasn't anything in this world (or the next) he wouldn't do to keep you protected.

"No favor necessary." Feyre spoke gently, after sparing a quick glance in Rhys' direction. "We know the sanctity of the mating bond, and we will do our best to keep your mate safe." she vowed, seeing a new light to the male before her.

With another round of thanks, Eris bowed his head a final time before winnowing away and back to spend one last night with you.

oOoOo

The next day, under the cover of night, Eris stood with you in his arms, at the entrance to Velaris. Tears pulled in both of your eyes as your foreheads rest against each other's. Feelings of both love and despair were shot down the bond, leaving you feeling breathless.

"Please, we can figure this out." you tried one last time, not caring if the tears on your cheeks belonged to you and Eris. We don't have to separate."

"Trust me," Eris whispered, knowing that Rhys and Feyre stood only a few feet away. "I would wish for nothing more than to be selfish and keep you by your side. But this is the only way I can ensure you’re safe."

"What about you?"

Eris pulled back slightly to take in your form, sighing softly at your stubbornness. He gently cupped your cheek, pressing soft kisses to your skin. "Don't worry about me. I'll be fine, and we'll be back together before you know it, alright?" he asked, content with your reluctant nod.

One last time, Eris leaned in and captured your lips with his. You gripped the lapels of his jacket, pulling your mate as close to your chest as was possible. The kiss was soft, but desperate and full of languish. Though you both wished the moment could last forever, you eventually pulled away, whispering words of love to each other.

"Until we see each other again, love." Eris vowed, watching your figure retreat into the safety of Velaris until you he could see you no more.

part two

#eris vanserra x reader #eris vanserra imagine #eris x reader #acotar imagine #rita writes

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restinslices · 2 months ago

Text

Kinktober Day 1 - Pegging & Sex Tape

Johnny Cage X Female!Reader

Word Count: 2019

Summary: Johnny’s acting career hasn’t been going the best, so you decide to make a different type of movie with him

CW: Pegging, sex tape, feminization, mommy kink, fingering (male receiving), Johnny is a soft sub, reader a lil mean

A/N: Hey y'all! I typically post drabble smut or headcanons so I'm a lil rusty but we'll use this as practice. See y'all tomorrow! Hope y'all enjoy! MINORS DNI

Times had been hard on your pretty boy. He could try to use all his acting skills to pretend to be his happy and normal self, but it'd never work on you.

You could understand why his spirits had been so low. Everything around him began shrinking - his starlight, the amount of money he had, his social circle, his following, everything. He was forced to watch as everyone started to slowly forget about him.

He had tried everything. He auditioned for practically every role his manager could find for him. He posted on social media, participated in trends, lowered his standards when it came to scripts, he was trying anything he could think of to extend his fifteen minutes.

He hadn’t thought of everything though. That was okay. That’s where you came in.

“We should just make a sex tape” you suggested while you two cuddled one night. “Then we can pretend it got leaked. Celebrities do it all the time. You really think all of those leaks are accidents? Yeah right! It’ll put a spotlight on your name. If all else fails, maybe people will pay to see you naked”.

Johnny didn’t need much convincing. He even came up with using one of his phones rather than an actual good camera. Said it would look authentic. Would make the “leak” more realistic.

That’s what you kept thinking of as you stretched him with your fingers. “How'd I get such a filthy slut like you, hm?”. His back pressed against your bare chest, his hands holding his legs apart, giving the camera the full view of his erection and your two fingers moving in and out of his hole.

“Luck?” he joked. Of course he had some smart comment to say. Wouldn't be him if he didn't. His head fell back in response to your fingers making a scissoring motion, a low whine passing his lips.

A thought crossed your mind. A thought that gave you full confidence that this “accidental leak” would go exactly as planned. “Look at the camera baby”, but Johnny always had a problem with following instructions. That was fine. The longer this went on, the better.

You feigned a disappointed sigh as you pulled your two fingers out of his hole, your arousal growing when Johnny sent the most pathetic look your way. And this was the man that convinced Hollywood he was some big shot playboy? No wonder he was an actor. It took real skill to lie like he did. “Why'd-”.

“I said look at the camera and you ignored me. Your brain shouldn't be all that mushy yet. I only got two fingers inside you”.

Gods, he was so cute and pitiful. The way he turned in your lap, his legs straddling you, hands resting on your shoulders. “I’m sorry” his bottom lip poked out, making you roll your eyes and push him off you.

“I'm not sure I even wanna fuck you anymore, Johnny”.

A complete and utter lie. Your desire to see him fall apart on your strap was still strong, but denial would add more intrigue to the video. “If you're not listening to me, maybe that's your way of saying you don't want me”.

His head shook, concerned eyes following you as you got to your feet. “I do need you. I want you”.

“Yeah?”. His serious tone made your heart squeeze a little bit, and you wondered if maybe you should've whispered in his ear that you were only playing before you got up. Too late now. He'd catch up. “You want me to make you feel good?”. He nodded several times, getting to his knees and placing his hands on his thighs, ignoring his needy cock.

You motioned towards the phone, which watched like some sad pervert. “Tell the camera how bad you need me”. You let out a sigh of relief internally when you saw a look of realization cross his face. Realization, then a look of mischief.

He took his middle and ring fingers in his mouth, swirling his tongue around them as he looked over at the camera pointed at him. A trail of spit followed his fingers out his mouth, “I need it really bad”.

“It?”.

“You”. His fingers circled his hole slowly before he slipped them in, making him let out a breath. “Fuck- I need you to fuck me. Need you to stretch my pussy open”, his breath matched his fingers, which started to speed up. “Don't you wanna stretch my pussy open, mommy? Please-”, his breath hitched when he added another finger. “My fingers aren't enough. Please. Please. I'll listen”.

You tsked, trying to hide how badly you wanted him. “Keep talking” you instructed. “Can't stay mad at you”.

Johnny practically rode his fingers. He meant it when he said his fingers weren't enough. They never were. He curled all three fingers inside him, and while that felt good, he needed more. “I need to feel your dick hit that spot inside my pussy. Wanna be under you” he said in between breaths. His free hand gripped one of his pecs, “touch me everywhere. I'll be good. I will”. The rough pad of his thumb rubbed against his nipple, trying to mimic how you'd touch him. Once again it was pleasurable, but he needed you to be the one to do it. “Please…” he added a fourth finger, making him arch in his own touch. “Please hurry. I can't cum if you're not fucking me. My clit needs you so bad” the words came out whiney, full of desperation. His hand moved from his pec, going down his torso until he reached his dick. He wrapped his hand around himself, shuddering when his thumb swiped against his slit. “Shit- I'm ready! Can't you see I'm ready?”.

He opened his mouth to let another plea fall from his lips, but all that came out was a groan when he felt you grip his hair and tug his head back.

You looked down at him, watching as he worked his fingers inside his ass and around his dick. “Ple-” his words were cut short when his eyes finally landed on the pink dildo attached to you, wide in girth with an average length. And of course because Johnny was your good and desperate boy, he didn't need to be told that he needed to get you wet.

He whined at the loss of contact, but knowing he'd finally be getting what he wanted made him spit in both his hands and wrap it around the rubber cock. His hands pulled and twisted around it, taking pleasure in the way your nails scratched his scalp.

“Good boy” you cooed in response to him taking you all the way in his mouth. His eagerness showed in the way he sucked you; fast and sloppy. Spit dripped from the sides of his mouth, and the sounds of his moans mixed in with gags filled your ears. And as his eyes remained on yours, you couldn't help but wish that the dick attached to you was real. Maybe someone could magic it or something. You'd ask later.

His breathing was heavy when he finally came off you, not even bothering to wipe the spit on his chin. “Come on! I'm ready!” he whined. “Please fuck me. Haven't I been doing good?”. He moved so he was on his hands and knees, eyes on the camera. “I really really need it”.

Who were you to deny him?

Especially when he was so cute.

You kneeled behind him, your hands finding his hips and pulling him close. Inpatient, Johnny reached around to grab your cock and line it up with his entrance. “Johnny, did you ask?”. When he let out a whine, you laughed and squeezed his hips. “I'm just kidding, baby. Go on and don't hurt yourself”.

Johnny only heard the first part.

He pushed himself back, forcing himself to take all of you in one thrust. “What'd I just say?!”, he hadn't even heard you scolding him. His moan, which was borderline a scream, was far too loud. You rolled your eyes, watching as he fell to chest. “What an unfortunate consequence that didn't need to happen”.

“I'm okay” he assured you once his breathing was back to normal. “Can you start moving please? I'm sorry”.

“Sorry again?” You massaged his hips softly, wanting to offer him a relaxing touch. “You know what? I don't wanna hear anymore apologies, okay? Not even sure I wanna talk to you after how stubborn you've been”. You moved your hips slowly, letting him adjust. “Just talk to the camera. Think you can handle that?”.

“Yes mommy. Feels so good already” he sighed, the pain leaving his body. “Think I'm close already” he told the camera, “her fingers felt so good. Can I cum again after this? Please?” he turned his head to look at you, earning a slap to one of his ass cheeks, making him groan.

“Two simple rules Johnny. Talk and look at the camera”

“I'm sorry- FUCK!”

The apology died on his tongue when he felt you pull all the way out then slam back into him. It hurt like hell, but the pleasure it brought him was more intense. His eyes returned back to the perverted camera, but your thrusts remained the same - pulling out slowly then slamming your cock back inside him.

Once, twice, a few more times later and he felt the knot inside him unravel, cum painting the sheets under him.

He couldn't cum once and be satisfied, no. His balls still felt full. You still felt too good inside him. But in the same breath, he didn't want you to think he was misbehaving again and be upset with him.

“Something wrong, baby?” You asked, noticing the tension in his shoulders. You placed a kiss to one, “you feel okay?”. He mumbled some lie about being tired, but you could see straight through it. “Tell me what's on your mind”.

Johnny, the guy who was known to take hardly anything serious, had the softest sounding voice when he finally asked “are you really mad at me?”.

You shook your head before placing another kiss on his shoulder, then pecking him on the lips. “I'm not mad at you, babe. You think I'm actually upset with you?”.

“I wanna cum again… but I didn't wanna ask if you were mad at me”.

“You wanna cum again?” You asked with a chuckle. Your fingers found one of his nipples, twisting it with your pointer and thumb. Maybe he felt particularly sensitive because of all that was going on in life. Or maybe you were being a bit too harsh. Maybe both. Either way, you could make him feel better.

Your lips found his, initiating a sloppy open mouth kiss, while your other hand moved from his hips to his other pec.

Your tongue explored his mouth, swallowing his moans as you started thrusting in him again. This time, you gave him exactly what he wanted.

Your chest laid against his, letting you be closer to him while you fucked into him, your pace much faster than it was before. “Just- ah! L-like that! Right there!” his moans came out loud and he did nothing to silence them.

He could feel that special spot inside him being hit repeatedly. He could feel your hands squeeze his pecs and your lips attacking his neck. Everything felt amazing. He wrapped his hand around the tip of cock, making him fuck his hand with every thrust you gave to him.

“Oh fuck! Mommy!”.

He imagined himself fisting his cock while watching the video back, and that excited him more. Then there was the thought that other people would get off to this…

He was such an attention whore.

“Mommy! Yes!” his chest heaved, feeling himself getting close again. “I love mommy's cock!”.

His eyes rolled back when he felt you lick a stripe up his neck where you sucked and bit marks into his skin, “yeah?”.

“Yesyesyes! Fuck! Ah! Mommy fucks my pussy so good! So fucking good! I'm gonna cum again! Gonna make another mess!”.

The pressure kept building and building until finally it collapsed. He let out a cry, followed by ropes of cum joining his previous orgasm under him.

You slowed inside him, capturing his lips in another kiss. This one slower and patient. “My good boy” you whispered against his lips. “I bet you look very pretty on camera”.

Johnny chuckled then pecked your lips, his pleasure being replaced by exhaustion. “You think that was good?”.

“I think it was perfect”

#I love him #mk1 #mk1 2023 #mk1 oneshot #mk1 kinktober #kinktober #kinktober 2024 #johnny cage #mortal kombat johnny cage #mk johnny cage #johnny cage smut #mk1 smut #johnny cage x reader #sub Johnny Cage #sub character #pegging smut #mk smut

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