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jyoongim · 3 months

Note

Hiii

Alastor X human!reader where she is desperate to make a deal for fame and glory.

She tries to summon a demon, accidentally conjuring Alastor. Beside her feisty facade she’s quite innocent and naive. He’s intrigued by her and toys with her, like a prey,tricking her into him, she signs the deal. He’ll come back after 1yr to collect his pretty little prize…her body and soul. 🌶️🔥

Title: A Price to Pay

part 2

You frowned at the check your boss had handed you.

Too little. You looked at your boss, a nervous smile on your lips as a laugh bubbled out of your throat ”haha this is half of what i should be getting. That’s funny, where's the rest? Am i getting that in cash or some?” Your boss laughed “HA! No thats what you’re getting for the week‘

Your eyes damn near popped out of your head.

For the week?

This was your pay for the entire week?

Oh hell no!

You poked a finger into the mans chest “What?! The whole week? I’ve been singing my ass off in this shit hole for two weeks! Where are my commissions?” You were angry!

He gave a low laugh as he pulled out a cigar ”You think just because you’re my best in this joint that I wasn’t gonna get the Final Cut? You better take it before i hand your ass nothing”

You sniffled as you wiped at your runny nose.

The yellow paper with EVICTION stared at you as you felt another wave of tear hit you.

Why?

Why couldn’t you just make enough to stay afloat?

Why did you have to suffer?

Why didn’t fate grant you mercy?

You had been busting your ass for months trying to make enough money to just pay the damn pills.

You were the best singer on your side of town and that shit hole needed a singer almost every night and when big shots went there. The money wasn’t terrible, it beat standing out on the pier at night, waiting to be taken to gods know where.

You laughed dryly, you would gladly get pimped out if it meant that you could still afford food to eat.

Why was life so cruel?

You had worked so hard and it felt like it was all for nothing.

You could hear your momma in your head

”You wanna dream big? Then never let life beat you down. Take it by the balls and make your dream a reality”

The next thing you know, you found yourself pulling out your mother’s old grimoire and drawing symbols on your bedroom floor.

what the hell were you doing?

You used to scoff at your mother when she did spells.

Because magic wasn’t real…right?

But it felt like you had no other option as you threw some herbs into the small fire pot.

Momma used to tell you about all types of things that were possible with a little magic. That you always had friends on the other side who could help if you knew what you doing.

And you indeed had no fucking clue.

But you were tired, angry, and desperate and wanted to do something about it.

This was your life!

You felt your body tingle as you chanted the incantation.

The room turned cold and the fire from the candles blew out. The building started to shake as you spoke the last verse and suddenly you were thrown back from an explosion in the middle of your pentagram.

You watched in terror as the floor glowed red and rising from the smoke was a very large demon.

You panicked as it began to stand, gulping at its full height.

Oh what did you just do?

—————————————————

Alastor blinked as he stood. Fanning the smoke away from his face, he grimaced once he saw the pentagram, candles, and herbs. Who dared? His ears perked at the sound of heavy breathing. He turned his head and red eyes caught sight of a mortal woman standing against the wall, eyes wide.

He took a step towards her, head tilting as she cowered away. He huffed as he got to the edge of the protection boundary. He gave her a smile, sharp teeth glistening with narrowed eyes

“Hello my dear”

——————————————————————

You took in the tall demon that stood in your bedroom.

He was dressed like one of those fancy gents.

Red and black tailored suit with a cane.

You watched as he curled his lip when he saw your protection boundary. You felt your body freeze as his eyes met yours.

Red.

Glowing red.

He was rather handsome looking for a demon.

He reminded you of-

“Deer” you squeaked, causing Alastor to tilt his head, ears flicking.

oh come on! You can’t be scared of something that you’re in control of!

”Hello my dear” you heard him say. He stood on the cusp of the salt boundary giving you his full attention.

That smile of his was very uncanny.

You shivered.

You found your nerves and puffed your chest out

”Hello demon-sir”

”Alastor” you blinked at him “w-what?”

He never lost that smile “The names Alastor. Pleasure to meet you” you were at a lost for words. Alastor took your silence to look around, your spellbook caught in his attention before he took you in.

You cleared your throat “I summoned-” “conjured” “You to um make a deal?” You said uncertain

Alastor smirked “oh reallly? And what makes you think Ill make a deal with a human like you?”

You frowned ”You don’t have a choice! I summoned YOU here you have to do what I ask!’

He laughed darkly “Oh my dear that isn’t how things work” he looked back at the salt ”lets chat”

You didn’t trust him, but he seemed friendly girl don’t do it

you inched close and with a sweep of your foot, dusted a bit of the salt to let him through.

Alastor stepped through and now you were being towered over.

Alastor took you in.

what a small thing you were. He was sure you had no idea what you were doing or dealing with.

But if it was deal you wanted, he will grant that.

”What do you want?”

You wrung your hands nervously as you spilled your sad excuse of a life and your far fetched dream.

You felt a surge of determination as you finished your little rant “That’s why I need a deal! I deserve to rise to the top! I’ve worked my ass off for years and nothing! Why-Why should I settle for this? My life deserved to be full of glamor and money! I deserve that right? Right! S-s-so what do you say”

Oh what an innocent thing you were.

Such a fire that had nowhere to burn.

Perfect

Alastor feigned mulling it over, your face dropping as he walked away from you.

”A deal works both ways my dear”he started as he turned back to you “What will you give me in return?” His smile stretched across his face as his calm facade faded.

You gulped but you were not gonna back out “Ill give you anything j-just please I don’t care what I have to do!”

He was in front of you in a flash, making you take a step back nervously

“Anything?” A clawed hand squished your cheeks hard as he leaned his face to yours

”prove it” he purred

You blinked. How the hell were you suppose to do that?

Nothing in this world is free. Your momma taught you that and your warning bells were screaming.

His thumbs was running over your lips and you opened your mouth to suck it.

You could die right now. Was this worth it? To give up your dignity to a demon?

Alastor growled and in a swift motion, you were on your bedroom floor, heart thumping in your ears as you looked up at the demon on top of you.

Alastor’s free hand swiped down your body, tearing your clothes to shreds, leaving you naked.

You felt a soft heat curl in your stomach.

Alastor laughed darkly as he took in your naked form. His hand dipped down and thumbed at the small bundle of nerves, causing you to jolt.

Oh he was going to have fun with you

”One year.” He said as he dipped a finger into your tight heat.

You gasped around his finger.

”You’ll get your fame. You’ll have riches and power beyond your imagination. A top star. It’ll all be yours. But in one year you are mine. Your soul and body. Do we have a deal?” He was slowly fingering you, relishing in the softness your cunt offered as it squeezed around him.

Your body and soul in exchange for glory.

Did you still want this?

”yes” you whimpered

A green glow emitted around the two of you. Alastor eyes glowed and his antlers grew as he plucked his thumb from your mouth and slammed his lips onto yours as he rubbed your clit as he slammed his fingers into you.

”mmmhmm hmmm!’ You cried into his mouth as your orgasm hit you.

Your cunt clenched around him, creamy slick drowning his hand.

Your body buzzed as he retracted his fingers, watching in bliss as he licked your cum off his fingers.

”Oooh such a sweet cunt” He Purred at you as he scooped you up into his arms to lay you on your bed.

”Ill always keep close watch my dear, so don’t think you can back out of this” he said, you blinked sleepily as you felt the coldness of a necklace clasped around your neck.

“One year my dear”

Your world faded to black.

pt 2 coming soon..hehehe

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swordsandholly · 13 days

Text

Fancy

Ch 2: Just Be Nice to the Gentlemen, Fancy

Previous | Next | Ao3

NSFW | MDNI

Vampire! Poly 141 x Fem! Plus Size! Reader

Word Count: 7k

Summary: A permanent darkness rests over the city. You’ve lived here your whole life - in the slums, just another human to be pushed and pulled at the whims of the vampires that run it. Another human made to bleed and crawl their way through a meager life.

Maybe, just maybe, a meeting by happenstance will change your fate for the better.

A/N: Y’all are getting updates to two fics in a row bc my Wellbutrin has well and truly kicked in. Say thank you to big pharma or whatever

A week passes. You tucked that wad of cash into your special hiding spot behind the vent above your bed. It still feels like it’s burning a hole through you. You made lists of things everything you could possibly spend it on, how much each item costs individually, how much it might help if you save it. In the end, you decided - rather impulsively - to get all new water filters for your entire apartment. The shower head and both sinks. It eats away most of the cash but you’ve never felt so clean - never realized the amount of sludge sticking to your skin until it wasn’t anymore.

The four men haven’t come back, at least to your knowledge. Most likely they’re done with you after that single meeting. They’ve gone back to Cherry and you’re back to working as a server - having meager tips shoved down the bust of your dress and too rough hands grabbing your inner thighs.

After the gentile treatment you received, though, you feel a bit disgusted. Reminded that they choose to be this way. That vampires aren’t just like that, they aren’t made like that, they choose to treat you - to treat humans - terribly. It makes your gut churn with anger in a way it hasn’t since you were an over-achieving teen sneaking out to attend protests in the lower city square.

It is what it is. Life goes on.

The train lurches on your way to work, as usual. News and advertisements scroll along the screens lining the top of the cabin.

TWO DEAD: LOWER THIRD STREET - BOTH EXSANGUINATED

DISAPPEARANCES CONTINUE TO GROW IN NUMBER IN THE FRENCH QUARTER

ONCE AGAIN THE CITY COUNCIL OVERRULES SUIT FOR HUMAN REPRESENTATIVE CHAIR

UNIDENTIFIED SUBSTANCE FOUND IN JANE DOE

With grit teeth you tear your eyes away. People around you whisper, conspire about what might be going on. As if you all don’t already know what’s happening. As if there isn’t a cancer in this city centuries old.

Nothing is new under the constant night.

Life goes on.

You sigh, quietly checking yourself in the mirror before locking up your things in the employee break room and punching in your time card. Before you can even step foot toward the main floor, a girl with pitch black hair begins charging toward you.

“You!” Cherry stomps up to you, voice cracking with anger. Her platform boots raise her up above your level.

You nearly jump out of your skin, instinctively backing away and against the wall. “W-what -“

“You stole my clients!” She shrieks.

“I- what?”

“Cherry.” The owner warns, appearing behind her. A shadow looming over the two of you. A man ready to grab the scruffs of two warring kittens. A few other girls who just arrived for their shifts stare with wide, nervous eyes.

The last time there was a fight here a girl got her eye stabbed out.

“You took them! They’re my best paying clients and you took them! What did you do, huh? You suck their cocks for free?” Her face is barely an inch from yours and a sharp acrylic nail pokes your chest so harshly you’re surprised it doesn’t break skin.

It’s your turn to fume - face hot and hands balling into fists. “How dare you! I swear to god I-“

“Ladies!” The owner booms, grabbing both your shoulders, effectively putting an end to this little spat before it can escalate further. “Quiet. Our guests will hear you. Cherry, go smoke a cig and cool the fuck off. Fancy, follow me.”

You feel a bit like a child on their way to the principles office as you follow the owner toward the bar, wringing your hands and glancing around wildly. Despite your irritation, fear creeps through every part of you. The other girls are staring - whispering to each other behind perfectly manicured hands.

“I - sir - I really didn’t-“ You stop when that same gold tray is shoved into your hands.

“I don’t care what you did or didn’t do.” He sighs loudly. “They’re requesting you.”

“But I don’t-“

“I. Don’t. Care.” He points at you in much the same fashion as Cherry before him. “Your job is what our guests want you to do. So go do your job”

Your jaw clicks as you shut it. Cherry is glaring absolute fucking daggers at you from the back room, her sparking red dress nearly matching the shade of her face. You can’t blame her. You’re taking her clients, her paycheck, her survival. It makes you feel a bit monstrous, if you’re honest with yourself. There isn’t any time to focus on that too much as you’re ushered to the private booths. There’s no reason for you to give this up, either. If they want you they want you, and it’s their fault for kicking her to the curb.

It’s your survival too, at the end of the day.

It feels eerie to walk down this corridor again. To stand before that heavy curtain again. Your hands don’t shake this time, though. Even with the added tension from your previous interaction they remain steady.

They’re seated the same as before. Simon’s mask is different - a regular balaclava as opposed to the skull. You realize that his eyebrows and lashes are blonde - so strangely soft for such a harsh looking man. They’re all dressed far more casually, it seems. All the way down to Johnny’s sneakers that probably cost more than your entire wardrobe based on the brand. John has traded his suit coat for a simple one with sherpa lining. Kyle braided his hair since last time.

“Evenin’, Fancy.” John smiles warmly. The way it makes your heart flutter is utterly shameful.

“Hello.” You smile, tilting your head and setting down the tray. Same as before. Rinse and repeat. They ordered liquor this time - bourbon, you think. Maybe scotch. Same difference. “You’ve gotten me into trouble.”

“Have we, now?” John drapes an arm over the back of the booth.

“Cherry isn’t exactly happy.” You fake pout as you hand out the glasses. “Thinks I did something salacious to steal you away.”

“How do you know you didn’t?” John gives you a once over. Blue eyes dragging down every curve and angle of your body.

“I suppose I don’t.” You sigh. “Nothing in my right mind, though.”

“Sorry about that, love. It’s for your own good.”

“Right.” The only thing more powerful than plausible deniability is actual deniability. “Can I get you anything else?”

“Can get yer pretty little arse over here.” Johnny grabs you by the waist, setting you down in his lap. You gasp at the sudden motion, wrapping an arm around his broad shoulders for balance.

“I think ‘little’ is a bit of a misnomer, there, hun.” You snicker.

“Aye, as it should be.” His hand wanders to pinch your hip.

“You’re a dog, Mr. MacTavish.”

“Och, ye wound me, lass.”

You glance over at Simon briefly, eyes meeting his. He tilts his head forward. Those dark eyes hold no less intensity than before. They take you in like they want to eat you whole. He probably does.

John must signal him - a nod or a curl of finger - because you’re being passed into the center of the booth again and set right up at John’s side. Vampire covens are simple things. Strong hierarchies that are rarely challenged unless a leader falls or fails spectacularly.

Top dog gets the chew toy.

“I like the change of attire.” You smile, tugging at the soft sherpa of his coat.

“Suits not your style?”

“They’re nice… I see so many of them, though.” You lean into his side, letting your head fall back on his shoulder. “Besides, this fits you better, I think. Matches the beard.”

You let your hand venture up to trace along his jaw, reveling in the gentle scratch of his beard. It’s pleasant. Well cared for. You briefly wonder what his budget for beard products is. He leans into the touch. You’ve always wondered how you to feel to them. Is it a gentle warmth or a scorching flame? Either way, they never seem to mind.

“You boys planning on talking business tonight?” You tilt your head.

“Ah, not tonight.” He chuckles, taking your hand and pressing a light kiss to the back of it. “Tonight is purely about rest and relaxation. Need it after the week we’ve had.”

Somehow the other three manage to melt into the background. You might not know much - if anything - about him, but John Price is the type of man to fill a room all on his own. You felt that the first time you saw him.

“I can certainly help with that.” You grin, letting your hand trail up his thigh. You move slowly, waiting to see how he reacts, and go to hook a leg across his lap to straddle him.

To your surprise, he just grabs your waist and sets you back into your seat. “Don’t need to do all that, luv. Just talk with us.”

Part of you wants to laugh. There’s no way guys like this are the lonely, chatty type. But then, as you take in his face, you can see the exhaustion in his eyes. Vampires don’t get bags under their eyes or stress lines, but it still shows. Still swirls in their irises so distinctly.

“Wanted to pick your brain about somethin’, actually.” John sighs, taking a slow sip from his drink.

You scoff. “Me?”

“You’re a smart girl.”

“Am I?” You can’t help but laugh. “What, you need help picking out some lingerie for your mistress?”

John rolls his eyes at you. Kyle chuckles behind him. They’re far more quiet than last time. At least, the little bit you remember form last time.

“Our company has had some recent… expansions.” John mulls his words over carefully, which sets of alarm bells in the back of your mind. “We want to take the opportunity to do something for the lower city.”

“Why?” You spit far too honestly - involuntarily dropping the facade of an escort. What are they doing to pull this out of you? Is it compulsion?

Just as John opens his mouth to answer you, a phone rings. Loud and piercing through the tension in the air. Simon sighs loudly and answers, speaking so low you aren’t sure if he’s speaking at all. All eyes are trained on him. Except yours. You look around at the strain in their faces. The dread.

Simon grunts something before hanging up. “We’ve got a problem.”

“What kind of problem?” John demands.

“The kind we can’t leave til’ tomorrow.”

There’s a collective groan throughout the room. Johnny looks like he wants to smash the closest thing he could find.

“Fuckin’ hell…Sorry, darling. Looks like we’ll have to resume this another time.” John sighs loudly and takes your hand to help pull you from the booth. He pauses with you off to the side - glancing over his shoulder and nodding to the others as they pass through the curtain before turning back to you. “Can I trouble you for a kiss at least? To tide me over?”

“Always.” Once again, the response is far too automatic for your liking. Then again, there are worse things than happily kissing a good looking man. Even if he is what he is.

John chuckles. It’s low and rich and causes you to lean forward despite yourself. Sometimes you forget just how alluring they’re built to be. Made to draw you in. An angler fish. John leans forward to meet you, still holding your hand in his. His lips are cool, a little rough but also gentle. There’s a hint of almost desperation in the way he pushes closer before who you can only assume is Simon clears his throat.

“Pay for a full night plus tip - as an apology for leaving so suddenly. Take the rest of the night, dove.” John smiles down at you and presses another tied roll of cash into your palm. “Don’t want my favorite girl having to scrape by for tips after we leave. Bad look, that.”

“T-thanks…” You murmur, keeping your eyes locked on him. Almost afraid to look down at the amount in your hand. There’s a heft to it that you both appreciate and are terrified of.

John pats your hand and leans forward to place a rather chaste kiss on your cheek before disappearing out the curtain just like that first time.

You’re not sure how much more unbridled tenderness you can handle.

~~~

It’s not even a full week before they’re back. This time, it’s just Kyle and Johnny who greet you on the other side of the curtain. That fact should relax you - not having to focus your attention on so many men should make it easier. Instead, it feels foreboding after the way they left last time. It makes your shoulders tense.

Why are you worried about John? A little voice in the back of your head questions. Why are you worried about a fucking vamp?

“Hello.” You murmur, setting the usual tray on the table seemingly in slow motion. “Just the two of you today?”

“Don’t sound so disappointed.” Kyle grins. “We’re more than enough company.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of.” You hum, passing out their drinks and sliding into the curved booth to get between them.

“Nothing to cure a shit week like blowin’ off a little steam with a pretty woman.” Kyle tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, his other hand coming to rest on your thigh. Dogs without their leashes.

You hum. “Work got you down? You had that ‘problem’ last time.”

“Och, aye. Been a right bitch lately.” Johnny groans, tilting his head back and slinging an arm around your shoulders on the back of the booth. “At least we got that one bit sorted.”

“It was your own damn fault.” Kyle scoffs at him.

“Oi. Maybe if you payed attention to who-“

Kyle grabs Johnny’s lips, pinching them shut. “Price said not in front of the girl.”

You glance between them. The last thing you need is to be sat in the middle of a vampire brawl. Goodbye mortal plane if so.

That seems to be enough to get Johnny to drop it, opting to throw back his drink in one fell swoop and scoot in closer to you, strong arm looping around your waist.

Kyle’s hands trace down over your shoulders. “You’re a fuckin’ luxury, baby girl.”

“Can I have a kiss, hen?” Johnny leans close, fingers tracing your jaw.

Your lip quirks up. “Can you afford a kiss? Seeing as I’m such a luxury, apparently.”

It’s Kyle who moves next - pulling you fully into his lap and pushing you further into Johnny. “We can afford much more than that, love.”

The tip of a fang grazes your neck. It’s slow, gentile, not nearly enough to break the skin. Not quite a threat.

A promise.

It’s barely a hair of movement. A slight tilt, a minute lean and your lips press against Johnny’s. His lips are cold but softer than you expected. Your hands find his shoulders, his tongue darts across your lower lip and you part for him. A well memorized dance. Kyle’s hands drag up your hips to rest on your waist, holding you in place between them.

“D’you have any idea how good you smell?” Kyle murmurs in your ear.

“Or taste.” Johnny sighs into your lips. You pull back, snickering and wiping your lipstick off his lips. He has the prettiest, dopiest smile you’ve ever seen.

“Come home with us?” Kyle asks, lips grazing the shell of your ear. “We’ll take such good care of you.”

“You just got here.” You murmur.

“An’ now we’re askin’ if ye’d like tae come home with us.” Johnny grins.

You tilt your head back, debating on how to ask about pay. It’s a question that needs to be asked, but a sensitive one at the same time. You don’t want to offend, but you don’t want to end up walking away from their home empty handed. Just as you go to open your mouth and subtly talk rates, you’re cut off.

“How’s 5k sound, lovie?” Kyle murmurs. Are they fucking mind readers?

You pray they don’t notice the way you choke briefly, body tensing for a fraction of a second. Holy shit. Holy fucking shit! That’s more than twice what you make in month.

“I’ll take that bewildered stare as a yes.” He laughs, moving a hand from your waist to knead at your hip.

They call a car. You don’t have to explain where you’re going to anyone - being pressed between them is enough. It used to be a little shameful for you to walk out on a man’s arm for the whole club to see. When you were young and not quite so resigned to the state of the world - when you hadn’t quite realized that the only god you should care for is green and made of paper. These days you couldn’t care less. They all know, and they’re all taking part in the same debauchery (or jealous that they can’t afford to.) It’s all goods and services, at the end of the day.

Johnny wastes no time pulling you into his lap as soon as you climb into the car - a massive, black SUV that still smells brand new. At least the seats are soft on your knees as you hover over his lap.

“No, no, full weight on me, bonnie.” He grabs your hips and pushes you to sit on his thighs. “Tha’s it.”

His hand disappears under your skirt, two fingers tracing up your sex through the thin cloth of your underwear. Messily grinding while placing sloppy, open mouth kisses along your neck and shoulder. You gasp and whine as he presses against your clit. Just enough to tease, always moving away before you can properly grind down on him. Fucking tease. Kyle watches with an appreciative grin lazily spread across his face.

Your eyes widen to saucers as you pull up to the building. One of the biggest residential skyscrapers in the city. A glowing paragon. One of only five you can see at all times from any part of the city. You’re pretty sure, if you could get to the top, that you would be able to point out your apartment. If you could see it through the smog, that is.

Kyle pins you to the wall of the elevator, lips intertwined with yours and a hand twisted in your hair. Yours knot into the material of his coat. He tastes like liquor and something you can’t quite place. Something sweeter than candy and far more satisfying.

You glance over his shoulder at Johnny just as the man readjusts his pants. He grins, keeping his hand there to palm himself as soon as he catches your eye.

Cheeky bastard.

The elevator stops so gently you might have missed it if not for the dinging and the doors parting. Kyle pulls you out into a small foyer while Johnny fumbles for a keycard.

You think you might have a heart attack when they slip you through one of the two massive front doors. It has to take up the entire floor - or at least most of it. There’s a whole pool on the right side of the balcony. An area that looks like a greenhouse mirrors it to the left. Floor to ceiling windows allow you to see the faux stars so clearly up here.

“Do you all live here?” You ask quietly, staring around the massive penthouse.

The decor is simple. Dark, heavy woods and expensive, rich toned fabrics. It doesn’t have that sterile air that so many vampire homes have. It looks lived in. Used. Even with the obviously untouched kitchen. To this day you don’t understand why vampire homes have them at all. A formality, you suppose.

Johnny nods. “Och, aye, but John and Si are… workin’.”

You decide it’s probably smartest not to pry into whatever “work” means. “So, the mice will play while the cats are away?”

“Somethin’ like that.” Kyle nods, a little smirk playing across his face.

You glance away, debating on asking a possibly invasive question. You can’t ever be too careful with the hierarchy of covens. “And John doesn’t mind you… having me first?”

They blink at you for a moment before bursting out laughing. Your face heats. It makes you feel childish, as if you asked a stupid question. It’s not a stupid question. It’s perfectly valid! At least thats what you’ve heard from other working girls…

“Oh, no, doll. He doesn’t care.” Kyle grins and hooks an arm around your shoulders.

“Might be a bit miffed he wasnae here tae join in on the fun but he’s not jealous like tha’.” Johnny mimics him with an arm around your waist as they pull you to the side.

The two exchange a look briefly with grins plastered across their faces before turning you to the right and leading you down a short hallway. A large, wooden door opens into a bedroom that could swallow your apartment whole. The decor is a bit chaotic - clothes lay across the floor leading to the bathroom and two walls are covered from the floor to halfway up with drawings and paintings.

You know what you’re here for but you can’t help wandering over to them and staring. They’re so intricate. Every detail rendered perfectly. Some are from the city, others are from far away places you aren’t sure exist anymore. A few portraits of the boys here and there and some other people you don’t know. A sketch of a man with scars littering his strong face catches your eye.

“Whose are these?” You ask in a hushed whisper, as if speaking too loudly will disrupt them.

“Ah, mine.” Johnny saunters up behind you, hands resting on your broad hips.

“They’re beautiful…” You’ve only seen art like this in the museums you visited in school.

“Could do one of ye. Ye’d make a bonnie portrait.” He murmurs, pressing his cheek to yours.

Your gut reaction is to say yes. Is that how you want to be remembered, though? Just another face only immortalized on some creature’s wall. A nameless face from eras gone by. Would he write your name down? Would they remember you in a hundred years? In fifty years? In ten, even?

You settle on a gentle “Maybe.”

Johnny takes the hint, turning you toward the bed where Kyle is already leaned. “Gonnae tear a hole in my damn pants if we donnae get a move on.”

The bed is huge, to say the least. Circular and outfitted with layers upon layers of soft pillows and probably the highest thread count sheets you’ve ever seen. It’s unmade, the comforter falling halfway off one side of it. Not that you need it for what’s to come.

Johnny kneels behind you as soon as you step between Kyle’s legs where he’s sat on the bed. Deft hands unbuckle the straps of your heels. Little nips and kisses trail up your thighs. Kyle reaches around you and presses his lips to yours - so softly - before carefully pulling down the zipper of your dress.

It’s so easy to let them take charge. To be a doll for them to do as they please. There are worse things in life than being delicately undressed by two handsome (and well paying) men. Their hands are far more gentle than you expected while they strip you, muttering little appreciative hums and compliments so low that you almost miss them. You stand bare before them, letting them take you in. Hands and eyes roaming. Johnny presses a sweet kiss to your cunt before standing, sending a little jolt up your spine.

He grins like he won some game you didn’t even know you were playing.

You turn to carefully peel off Johnny’s shirt. Your lip catches in your teeth as you run your hands over hard muscle and through a layer of thick, downy hair that leads to the waistband of his pants. So distracted by the sight before you that you don’t notice Kyle pressing against your back, locking you between them as they kiss above you. A shiver runs through you as you watch their jaws flex and hands grapple for one another.

Fucking Christ.

Sometimes you forget how good it is to fuck people you’re actually attracted to. Even if they are paying customers the same as the rest.

An unceremonious squeak escapes you when you’re suddenly flung onto the bed. Not hard enough to hurt but enough to bounce until Johnny appears on top of you, fingers pinching at the soft fat on your sides and laving at your neck with a cool tongue. He keeps his teeth out of the way as he moves down your body to take your nipple between his lips. Much appreciated.

“Need a taste, bonnie. Ye smell so good. So sweet.” Johnny whines, kneeling between your legs. You watch him lower himself slowly as Kyle slots in behind you, shirt long forgone and hands tracing up your sides to knead at your breasts.

As much as you want to pout at not getting to see Kyle undress, you can’t focus on much other than Johnny’s mouth diving into you. Your instinct is to close your legs at the sudden onslaught, but Johnny’s hands keep them solidly in place - spread wide and hooked around his arms.

“Fuck.” You gasp, head tilting back onto Kyle’s shoulder. Your hand wanders down, carding through Johnny’s mo-hawk. He places a harsh suck to your clit and your fingers tighten around the hair at the base of his neck involuntarily pushing him further into you.

You expect him to be upset, for a brief moment, that you’ve been too rough with him. Took too much charge. Instead he just keens desperately against you, picking up the pace - devouring you like a man starved.

“C-Christ, Johnny!” You gasp, fingers digging further into his scalp and the sheets.

“He likes it when you’re mean t’him.” Kyle murmurs in your ear. “Got him fuckin’ pussy drunk already.”

You roll your hips down onto his tongue as he flattens it against you, grinding his face into your pussy. He shifts, never breaking contact, and slips two thick fingers inside you. You whine, eyes screwed shut as you ride it out. Kyle grabs your chin, tilting you back into a kiss. All it takes is Johnny curling his fingers to send you toppling over the edge, back arching sharply.

Johnny rears back onto his haunches just as you peel your eyes back open, chin slick and shiny. His hands desperately pull at his belt and fly. “Cannae take it anymore.”

Kyle chuckles, smiling down at you. “You’d think after two centuries he’d learn a little patience.”

You smile back, quip dying in your throat as Johnny grinds his uncut cock between your folds - coating it in your slick. Fuck, he’s thick - punching every bit of air in your lungs as he pushes in.

“So fuckin’ warm.” He moans, brow furrowed and lips parted.

Lord help you, he’s beautiful. Even beyond that statuesque perfection all vampires have, he must have been gorgeous in life. Kyle is too, you realize as you tilt your head back to kiss him. You wonder what they would look like with ruddy cheeks - with faces warm as yours is. If Johnny would blush all the way down to his chest. If they tanned. Burnt. Freckled. Ran warm or cold. All the little differences that come with a beating heart.

All thoughts disappear at once as Johnny rolls his hips into you. You gasp, “Please.”

That’s all he needs, apparently, setting a brutal pace off the bat. Pushing you back into Kyle with every thrust with enough force that your teeth nearly knock together. Kyle’s fingers continue to pluck at your nipples. You can feel his still clothed cock pressing against your back, hips twitching at the brief friction.

“Fuck. Alright.” Kyle grunts, moving from behind you - leaving you flopping back on the bed with your hands fisting the sheets. You can hear his belt coming undone but can’t bring yourself to focus on it with Johnny relentlessly pumping into you. That is until Kyle taps the head of his cock against your lips, kneeling beside you.

He’s pretty. Not as thick as Johnny but perfectly proportioned. He doesn’t even have to ask or press forward, you want it between your lips. Seek it out. It’s cool on your tongue, calming under the relentlessness that is Johnny.

“Been tae long since we had somethin’ so nice an’ soft in our bed.” Johnny whines. As if that fact genuinely pains him.

Kyle hums in agreement, taking his time fucking into your mouth. “That it has.”

He reaches over to grab Johnny by the back of the neck, pulling him until their lips crash together. Johnny’s hands tighten where they hold you and Kyle’s pace picks up.

“Fuck, she likes tha’.” Johnny pulls back just enough to speak. “Clenchin’ down on me.”

All you can manage is a whine in response - body on fire. Every nerve feels like it’s pulsing, the whole of you utterly consumed by them. Johnny lifts your hips off the bed, arching your back so that he can fuck up into you. The new angle leaves you desperately moaning. Practically singing around Kyle’s cock as your climax hits you like a train. Rocking through you and tensing every muscle.

“Thassit, love, doin’ so good f’us.” Kyle cards his fingers through your hair. It’s strangely gentle, considering the way his cock now bullies the back of your throat while Johnny’s ruts against your g-spot. “How’s she feel, Johnny?”

The man in question just babbles incoherently, fingers digging into your wide hips enough that they’ll surely bruise. At least he’s aware enough not to crush you entirely. Kyle chuckles at him, the sound cutting off in a moan as you angle to take him deeper and wrap your hand around the length you can’t take.

“G-gonnae cum.” Johnny stutters, rhythm faltering and becoming more shallow as he approaches the edge. He pulls out with a choked groan, fucking his fist as he spills onto your thigh.

Kyle mercifully pulls away, letting you gasp for air. Your voice will be raw tomorrow, but fuck if it isn’t worth it when you’re getting fucked like that.

Johnny sighs, collapsing on his back. “Gi’ me a minute…”

“Gettin’ old, Johnny?” Kyle quips.

“Feck off.” He grunts, turning to look at you as you catch your breath. You can’t quite interpret the look in his eyes - whatever it may be - before Kyle is lifting you up at the waist.

“C’mere, love.” Kyle pulls you, sitting back on his haunches and turning your back to him. Your legs tremble uselessly, but he doesn’t seem to mind as he moves you into place. He doesn’t waste time sitting you on his cock. Kyle isn’t as rough as Johnny, taking his time with lifting off and dropping you onto his cock. A slow motion of your hips while his hands squeeze the soft layer over your waist.

“Fuck, Kyle…” You sigh, head lolling against his shoulder.

“Y’like that, baby?” He murmurs, kissing up your shoulder and neck. One hand moves from your waist to travel up the valley of your breasts. It doesn’t quite wrap around your throat, just rests at the base of it - index finger hooking into your necklace.

It’s a leisurely roll of your hips against each other. A break from the brutal pace before. He’s not desperate like Johnny - instead taking his time whispering sweet nothings and dirty words into your ear. Movements slow and easy.

You think, for a moment, that this is the closest you’ve ever been to “making love.”

Then again, maybe you’re just cock drunk.

You don’t notice Johnny getting up until he’s in front of you, hands on your thighs and lips crashing against yours. Already hard and leaking again after only a handful of minutes. Even for a vampire, that’s pretty damn impressive.

“Bonnie, please.” He moans into your mouth. Cool hands take yours and wrap them around his cock, setting a rhythm to match Kyle’s thrusts into you. “Yer fuckin’ perfect.”

It’s overwhelming. Kyle’s hands roam over your body as you bounce on his cock, draping himself over your back and nipping at your ear. Johnny’s tongue continues to explore every part of your mouth as he thrusts desperately into your hands. His fingers slip down to your clit, moving in leisurely circles that have you bucking forward into him.

“Gonna cum f’me, pretty girl?” Kyle groans into your ear. “Chokin’ my fuckin’, cock.”

You whine against Johnny’s lips, eyes screwed shut. He’s close again, pace quickening. His fingers roughly grind against your over sensitive clit. Someone is chanting, begging, and it takes longer than it should to realize it’s you. “Please, please, just - fuck - I can’t - fucking Christ-“

“Thassit, thassit, fuckin’ hell look at y’two.” Kyle pants, bottoming out with every thrust.

You cum with a choked cry, falling forward against Johnny as he coats your hands and moans. Kyle isn’t far behind, painting your back with a pretty, low groan and a jumble of praises for you and Johnny alike.

Your body feels like jelly, limbs trembling and weight leaned entirely against Johnny. He coos at you and soothes down your hair. A strong arm wraps around your shoulders to steady you. Kyle comes back with a warm rag - when he left, you’re not sure - gently wiping you down with a an unfamiliar level of care.

“I can do it.” You reach for the cloth.

“No, no, love.” He says gently, taking your hands and carefully cleaning them off with precision. He stops to rub the back of your hand with his thumb, something unreadable and warm behind his eyes.

“Drink this.” Johnny holds out a glass to you. When did he even get that?

“Tap water?” You frown slightly, looking him up and down.

“What’s wrong with tap?” He snorts. Oh. Right. Upper city.

“Thanks.” You murmur, chugging it greedily. The physical exhaustion begins to creep up your bones, your legs already practically useless. Keeping up with vampires is a young man’s game and you’re just starting to see the signs of aging out. “I better g-“

“Better lay down.” Kyle cuts you off, taking the glass and pushing your shoulders to lay flat on the bed.

You chew your lip. You don’t usually stay at client’s homes overnight. Then again… the sheets seem to envelope you in a cool cocoon. Calming on your too-hot skin and tired muscles. Muscles that do not want to walk all the way to the train depot. Besides, Johnny and Kyle have been so nice. If they want you to spend then night then what’s the harm, right? You’ll just sneak out in the morning.

So, you let them crawl into the bed bracketing you on either side. Johnny’s arm slings over your waist, cool breath puffing against the back of your neck. Kyle lays in front of you, placing small kisses across your face before pulling the comforter over the three of you.

There are worse fates than sleeping with two handsome men on high thread count sheets for a night…

You wake shivering violently. Between the cold air and Johnny and Kyle’s cool skin you feel like an icicle. Your throat burns and you croak out a groan as you try to sit up. Kyle was rougher than you’d realized in the moment. Johnny has your back pinned against his chest with a strong arm thrown around your waist, not even breathing. It’s so easy to forget that they don’t have to. Kyle truly looks like a statue like this. Entirely still, solid as marble and just as perfect.

You sigh, quietly and carefully wiggling your way off the bed. You don’t pay attention to whose clothes you grab - some tshirt that’s more fitted than you’d like but covers enough to get the job done. You hiss at the slight creak of the door. Neither Johnny nor Kyle stir. If they woke up, they don’t react to you padding out to the main house.

That first door across the hall is slightly ajar, a low stream of cool toned light pooling in the floor just below it. Against your better judgement, you stop, looking around before peeking inside. Not that you can make out much other than a large bed with a dark canopy pulled closed around it. The rest of the room looks barren - the only source of light coming from what you assume to be an attached bathroom.

“Lookin’ f’somethin’?” A baritone voice grunts behind you. You squeak quietly, whirling on your heel and coming face to face with Simon. Well, face to chest considering his sheer height.

“Sorry!” You croak, voice still hoarse. “I didn’t mean- I-“

“S’fine.” The corners of his eyes crinkle in amusement. You hope it’s amusement, at least. “Need somethin’?”

“J-just getting some water.. sorry to bother you-“ You begin backing away, giving him a wide birth as you step toward the kitchen. Even without inhuman strength you fully believe this man could snap you in two.

“Come on, then.” He nods toward the kitchen, stepping in front of you. You nearly protest, but opt to just follow. He already caught you snooping at best - at worst he thinks you were planning to steal. If letting him accompany you keeps you alive and out of trouble with them then you’ll gladly trail behind this behemoth of a man.

You pause by the kitchen island as Simon goes to grab… a mug? You watch him fill an electric kettle and flick it on, digging through the cabinet to produce a small packet. A tea bag labeled Honey Vanilla Chamomile.

“Y-you don’t have to-“

“How’d our boys treat you?” Simon asks as he opens the little packet with deft fingers - oddly precise for the size of them.

“Good.” You blurt, hands wringing as you shift your weight side to side.

“Johnny behave himself?”

“The picture of civility.” You snort. If leaving bruises on your hips from fucking you six ways to Sunday counts as civil.

Simon chuckles but doesn’t say anything else. Just puts together a little mug of tea for you, stirring and steeping perfectly before pushing the thing across the counter. You take it slowly, eyeing him. Waiting for some sort of tell that you shouldn’t drink this. Then another shiver runs down your spine and you grab the warm cup happily.

“Should get a heating system put in…” Simon grumbles under his breath, looking around the apartment. You wonder just how much more he can see than you in the near pitch black environment.

“Why?” You snort. “You don’t need it.”

“You do.”

You blink at him rather stupidly - brain too tired and muddled to make sense of whatever that might mean. Probably just means humans in general. They probably have plenty of women and men over on a regular basis. Even if it is just for the night. Oddly considerate, either way.

“What’s the deal with the mask?” You blurt again, the slight lapse of silence putting you on edge.

Simon just shakes his head. “To ‘ide my face.”

“Booooring!” You boo, throwing out a dramatic thumbs down. To your surprise, you’re not met with annoyance. Just a deep chuckle and another shake of his head. “Thanks for the tea.”

Simon nods and snags the now empty mug from you. You chugged it far faster than you realized. It worked, too. Your voice isn’t as hoarse and your throat doesn’t sting when you swallow.

“I should probably…” You murmur, looking back toward the room where Johnny and Kyle are assumably still sleeping away.

Simon grunts in agreement, following you back to his own door. You don’t know what possesses you to stop beside him. To turn and meet his gaze with far less confidence than you’re used to wielding. You owe him for the tea, though.

“Do you want…uh…” You murmur, glancing into the room behind him.

Simon looks from you to the bed behind him - only to turn back with those smile lines forming in the corners of his eyes once again. “Not tonight, pretty girl. You’ve ‘ad enough.”

You jump involuntarily when his large hand cups your cheek - thumb caressing ever to gently over your cheekbone. Maybe it’s the exhaustion, maybe it’s the fact that non-sexual touches are so rare in your life, but either way you find yourself tilting into it. Just a little.

“Sleep well, sweet’eart.” With that he steps into his room, shutting the door with near deathly silence behind him.

Oh.

Okay.

You stare at his closed door for a few seconds too long, a slight furrow in your brow before turning back to Johnny’s room. The two of them haven’t moved much since you left, though Johnny has somehow ended up spread eagle across most of the bed. With some gentle maneuvering you manage to curl up in the crook of his outstretched arm with your head on his chest and back pressed against Kyle’s.

These men are going to be the death of you.

A/N: I wanted to put more into this chapter but I had to draw the line somewhere so it’s going to just have to get pushed to the next one.

Part of me was worried they’re fucking too early but then I remembered I can do what I want🫡

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dabisbratz · 1 year

Text

𝐼𝒩 𝒯𝐼𝑀𝐸 (𝒜𝐿𝐿 𝐹𝐿𝒪𝒲𝐸𝑅𝒮 𝐹𝒜𝒞𝐸 𝒯𝐻𝐸 𝒮𝒰𝒩)— leon s. kennedy x male reader

w.c: ~5.2k

warning: pwp ( porn with plot ), jealousy, exes-to-lovers, oral, phone sex ( ? ), softdomtop!leon, subbottom!reader, re2r leon, dirtytalk, praise/degradation, spanking, fingering, amab reader, light feminization, riding, blowjobs, creampie, leon’s big but doesn’t know it, finger-sucking, finger-hooking, set after re2r n before re4r, krauser mentions, mentions of alcohol, throatpie, d/s dynamic, unprotected sex ( wear condoms! ), aftercare ! ♡

sonny says..: the urge to add a daddy kink to this was so. so very!! strong . had to stay focused.. this is already.. sovery.. self indulgent..

Confronting him was the hard part. It’d been a while since you’d seen Leon, your ex-boyfriend, and you couldn’t help but feel like there was something missing. It was him, you know now— you’ve always known — but you weren’t sure you had the heart to face him. It was you who ended it after all, you who’d sent him down a heartbreak and alcohol induced rabbit hole that could only be documented briefly through a few voicemails and delivered texts. Even after traveling all this way, burning your cash like it grew on trees, trudging through the rainy streets of this random city, you couldn’t help but wonder if it was the right decision.

You couldn’t take it. The voicemails, the messages, the audio messages full of incoherent sobs and pleads. Being away from him, the same man who’d left you jumping for joy. The same man who’d lit sparks in your chest and released butterflies in your stomach. The same man who’d smile at you in the dead of night, genuine and bright, as he told you he’d loved you a million times over. Leon, whose hands were soft and warm on your skin, so gentle and patient. Like no one you’ve ever met, your heart squeezes in your chest. Leon, Leon, Leon.

Was this out of line?

But it’s too late to turn back now, because your hand is curling into a tight fist as you knock on the fourth motel door all night. Once, twice, three times. You’re ready to back out, to run before whoever’s residing here can open the door and, most likely, slam the door in your face with a distasteful choice of words.

But the door opens.

“There’s an extra. . . Uh, umbrella by the mailbox. Looks like you could use it!” He starts, eyes sparkling despite the dim lighting and narrowed space they’re peeking from. It sounds almost rehearsed, like you’re not the first person to knock on his door tonight. And, for a reason you know all too well, the thought stings.

His eyelashes are just as long as you remember them, curled upward and batting against the thin layer of baby-fat adorning his cheeks in a way that looks dreamy and slow. Like he’s relaxed, or perhaps tired. Nonetheless, his pretty, round eyes are undeniably his and hard to miss, you find yourself at a loss for words. You’re lost in the deep pools of blue, bleeding indigo and inky black of his irises matching the recently done-over roadways in a way that feels just as fresh.

Leon looks reminiscent of a puppy, though he always has, with his thick brown eyebrows pinched at each beginning in a way that can only mimic confusion. Or concentration, even. Almost as if it’s detrimental to him that you know there’s an umbrella there for you, for anyone, who needs it. That it’s important you know— with him around— you’ll be safe. He’s barely changed since you’d last seen him in person, the moles on his cheeks and throat unmoved, soft tufts of brown hair swept to the side as normal, and pink, plump lips that curl upward in a way that’s so comforting you could cry. Leon, your Leon, who smiles warmly, lips pulled into a sweet and inviting grin as the apples of his cheeks round out. Your eyes travel to the dimple dead center of his chin, prominent and defining. The perfect place to slot your thumb, really, to hold his chin and lose yourself in his azure eyes.

Even with the pitter patter of rain soaking into your already soaked clothes, this is the warmest you’ve ever felt in the last few months. His presence keeps you warm. Kept you warm.

“Leon.” It’s all you can say, breathless as the air is snatched from your lungs and excuses die on your tongue. What could you even say? Sure, you’d practiced it all in your head before arriving— I’m sorry, I miss you, what happened to us? It’s all easier to piece together in your head in contrast to actually saying it.

There’s a routinely lean against the doorframe as he shifts his weight from one leg to the other, and he’s truly looking at you now, opposed to the clear umbrella sat taut beneath his motel’s mailbox. With a flash of lightning he blinks, freckle and mole dusted cheeks set alight for just a mere second as his breath is caught in his closing throat.

“Oh. . . It’s you,” His sharp adam’s apple bobs with an even sharper swallow, and his pinched eyebrows go lax for a brief moment before tightening back up. “. . .Okay. Hi.”

“Hi, Lee.” You mimic, awkwardly shifting to the side. Still in his casual clothes, you presume, Leon looks comfortable as he sports baggy, blue jeans and a white tank top. Almost too comfortable, the fabric straining against his chest and only ever relaxing the closer it delves by his armpits, flowing despite being trapped beneath his wide ribcage and thick biceps. There’s a heavy vein cascading around it, disappearing under his skin only to reappear by his forearms and soft hands. With pink dusted fingertips, one hand is closed around the gold doorknob of his motel room.

You expect him to close it in your face. To slam the door after telling you to leave, with anger painting his soft, pretty features until they’ve hardened into cold stone. But he doesn’t. Instead, he’s opening it a bit wider, no longer leaning on the doorframe as he extends an arm to fully open the door. To fully see you, and you swear his posture is much more relaxed after his gaze has focused on your face.

“You look,” His gaze flickers from your lips to your eyes, and suddenly you’re failing to form vowels on your tongue. Either way you continue, “You look good,” stiffening as you gesture toward his general direction. “You always do. Anyway. . .”

“Thanks,” He’s much too sweet for your liking, smiling at you like you hadn’t broken his heart just a few months prior. His voice is breathy with upcoming laughter as he steps to the side and invites you in. “You too. Y’know, without the rain.”

You’re in over your head, shuffling inside the dimly lit room with heavy steps. The front door opens directly to the small living-room, a small carton of Chinese takeout resting beside a hearty sized weight on the coffee table. What now? You came into this hoping he’d yell at you— maybe give you a reason to turn around and never look back. But he’s not, he’s inviting you in like. . . Like an old friend. The door is shut and locked with a small click, Leon’s form moving from behind you with his large hand ghosting over your lower back.

A shockwave travels up your spine when his palm makes contact with your waist, only for a brief moment. You can’t think straight, watching the muscles in his back ripple and writhe through his shirt. Chocolate tufts of hair rest at the nape of his neck, short and soft. It’s like you were running your fingers through them just a week ago, blades of freshly trimmed hair tickling your fingertips. Right there, he’s so right there, but almost completely out of reach.

“I’m sorry.” It’s all you can say, over and over, until your nose begins to sting and your eyes grow glassy. Then it’s Leon’s turn to look apologetic, hair swaying as he fully turns to face you. Really, he has nothing to be sorry for. You’re so incredibly selfish.

“I can’t,” He pauses to take a breath, and you feel your heart splitting in two. But his tone is soft and warm, tilting with breathy and almost bitter laughter. “I can’t stay mad at you. And believe me, I tried.”

So he’s willing to talk about it. Your face visibly lights up before you can do anything to mask it, every word you’ve been trying to conjure up suddenly speeding past your tongue, “I want us to talk ab—”

“So,” Leon’s face contorts into something forlorn, like he’s weaving unsavory words together in his head. Words he’s never imagined himself saying. “Does he. . . Does he, uh, fuck you good?”

Huh.

“What?” The question falls flat and sour on your tongue, much more like a blank statement than a question. You’re not sure who ‘he’ is, let alone what led to the question in general, but you’re not exactly given much time to think about it either. The brunette steps forward, wide shoulders shifting with a heavy, clothed stride. His freshly bitten lips are released from his pearly teeth, plump and glossy. Closer now, Leon still smells reminiscent of woodsy lavender and minty mouthwash. Despite how faint it lingers in the air, it somehow manages to overwhelm your senses. He smells like home.

He doesn’t miss a beat this time, long eyelashes splayed out on his cheek as he stares down at your lips, eyebrows furrowed.

“Does he?” His head tilts to the side, questioning. You’d take it as an innocent question had it not been for his lips, pulled into a tight line that reeks of jealousy. His eyes have hardened, baby blue to gunmetal gray. His shoulders relax when you shake your head, hands suddenly restless by your side. “Use your words.”

It’s usually accompanied by a ‘please?’ or ‘for me?’

A whimper leaves your lips, soft and sweet and completely unwarranted. He softens.

“I know you can do it for me,” His eye contact is dangerous, relentless as he watches you stumble over your own whimpers and words. “Can’t you?”

“No,” You swallow hard, letting the brunette trap you in his heat. There is no ‘ he ’, no one taking Leon’s rightfully earned place by your side— whether it be in bed or not. That’s why you’ve come all this way, after all. But you play along anyway, desperate to be good. For Leon. “Not like you do, Lee.”

You’re whining now, tears bubbling in your eyes for so many reasons you can’t put together. Ultimately because you need him, because you feel bad for needing him— because maybe you don’t deserve the luxury of needing him. Apologies tumble into a tight ball of hiccups and sobs, and it’s only the thumbs rubbing away your tears that bring you back. Maybe you’re apologizing for fucking someone you haven’t, lost in the role he’s given you.

“I’m just glad to see you. Glad you’re here.” There’s so much he means to tell you, so much you haven’t heard. Raccoon city, the training program he’s been recruited into, why he’s even here in the first place. Sure, maybe he’s much too forgiving. But it’s you. And he’s not letting go again. But there’s more to it, there’s more you need. Venturing out here on your own, probably without letting anyone know, you’re reckless. Acting without thinking, and he can’t have that. He can’t turn you down, not when you’re so clearly in need of a gentle, guiding hand. Not when he misses you. Leon cuts off your apologies with a small kiss, gentle and sweet enough to have you chasing after his lips when he pulls away.

Your voice sounds needy and saccharine sweet as you lean forward, breathing in his airy scent with a wispy, “Leon. . .”

“What do you want, baby?” The nickname slips before he can catch it, but you don’t seem to mind. “What is it?”

“Want. . I want you.”

“But I’m right here? His laugh is genuine this time, lips splitting into a smile as his thumb rubs smooth circles across your cheekbone. “You have me.”

His hands are on you now, giving your body small squeezes of affirmation. Leon’s much bigger than he carries himself— big hands, wide shoulders, thick thighs, sturdy chest, heavy cock. Big all over, really, despite the way he’s able to run around and disappear like it’s nothing— despite how quickly he carries himself.

The thought as you reeling, choking on a sob that earns an immediate coo in response. There’s just so much, and it’s all piling up. But Leon’s here, he’s here like he always has been, he’s here to make it better. He’s always been so good at that. He takes you out of your head, turns it into mush while you float on a cloud and beg for more of. . . Well, you’re not too sure. But you know he can feel you throbbing against his thigh, hard and needy as he shakes his head with faux disapproval.

“That your phone in your pocket or are you just excited to see me?” It’s a stupid joke you both know the answer to, so he doesn’t waste any time laughing over it. You’re nodding anyway, bobbing your head up and down with wet eyelashes— you already look so ruined.

You’re wearing too much clothes, soaked and dripping onto his floor in a way that has the man grimacing as he peels it from your body. You’re much colder than you thought, too, goosebumps trailing down your skin as his big hands rub warm, soothing shapes into your forearm. Lee’s always been like that, the type to offer up his jacket on a rainy day, the type to give you his coat on a snowy one. And you know, undoubtedly, you’d do the very same for him.

“He couldn’t reach those spots, could he?” The question is emphasized by a hearty squeeze to your behind, Leon’s hands dipping beneath your wet pants slipping under the band of your briefs to knead the plump mound of your ass. He’s grabbing handfuls, squishing the skin between fingers and spreading you apart. “Not like I can, huh? Not deep enough?”

With a soft moan you’re discarded of your pants, fists curled into the crisp white of Leon’s wifebeater. You’ll take anything he gives you and love it, but it’s you who should be apologizing. You who should feel the weight of his cock heavy on your tongue. You want the head slipping and sliding down your throat, you want your face streaked in tears and snot by the time he’s done it’s you.

Oh, how you’ve missed this. Leon’s cock is thick and sticky, pre beading at the pretty, pink tip and dripping down it’s fat head. You watch it drip, slow and shiny as it trails down his pulsing shaft. Weeping, his cock twitches with each open breath you blow against it, jumping as his balls tighten. They’re pretty and round, symmetrical on both sides, but not nearly as pretty as his shaft. Thick and curving upwards past his belly button, Leon’s cock has a sensitive vein you want to run your tongue over, trailing up from his balls to the tip, collecting the sticky precum as it falls down into your mouth.

“Pleasepleaseplease…” You trail off, eyes focused solely on the pretty, shiny head of his dick.

“Don’t need to beg, I’ll give it to you. All you want,” You stick out your tongue, cute and pink as you’re ready to suckle along the head of his cock, but instead you’re met with the warmth of his big hand gripping your jaw. His thumb latches onto your bottom lip, rubbing the soft skin as he blinks down at you, his voice smooth and buttery as he commands, “Slow and steady.”

The tip is smeared along your lips, slowly tracing your cupid's bow and bottom lip until a thin layer of pre has them glazed over and sticky. Your lips part, carrying a thin trail between them, as you finally take his cock into your mouth. He’s salty and somewhat bitter, spreading heavy along your tongue, and you can’t help but swallow around the head. His thighs tense, muscles flexing and rippling as his twitching hand finds the back of your head.

“So. . . so wet,” He’s gasping before you can fully take in the stretch of his cock, hips twisting as his eyes flutter closed. It’s been a while, you can tell, with the way they’re clenched tight and his hand is morphing into a fist full of your hair. Your spit bubbles and pools around his cock, slick and wet, sliding between the seams of your lips and dripping down your throat, down your sternum. “Those. . noises. And you’re so.. cute.”

He offers a sharp thrust that has him disappearing down your tight throat, squeezing just right along his twitching shaft. Your jaw aches the further he’s pushed inside, until your nose is buried in his trimmed, gingerbread pubes. It’s obvious he’s trying to be gentle, with the way he lets out a hushed apology for fucking your throat so deep, with the way he’s whining out a constant stream of “You’re such a good boy.”

Praise. He’s so good at it, it’s got you absentmindedly drooling and gagging on his dick. You’re eager to drag out more, running your tongue along his big, veiny cock until Leon’s throwing his head back— adam’s apple bobbing as he lets out a pleased moan. His cock is filling your empty mouth, using you like some sort of pre-lubed fleshlight with his balls slapping against your chin in wet plaps. Collecting drool, it froths between your lips and his cock, bubbly and white until it’s being rubbed along your cheeks.

“That’s it, good boy, just a little more. . .”

Gasping on his cock, Leon’s hand keeps you buried against his pubes until your throat is squeezing and contracting, milking his cock and wrapped plush around the thick head. You can feel it, each twitch and throb of his heavy cock, even when he’s cumming down your throat, sticky and thick ropes shooting down your tongue and sticking to the roof of your mouth. You want to show him. You’re marked for good, offering a few hollow sucks to his spasming cock before pulling off.

“Oh, baby,” Leon’s voice is just as hoarse as your own, eyes following the display of cum resting hot and sticky on your tongue. “Think you can do something for me?”

He leads you up with a gentle hand, wrapped around your throat until you’re sat taut in his lap, thighs on each side of his waist. Leon’s hands are impeccably soft, even as he’s pushing them past your lips and spreading the saltiness of them along your tongue with a gentle, “suck.” You’re eager to please, taking the warm digits in your mouth and separating them with your tongue. The squelches in return are loud and wet, a mixture of cum and drool leaving between the gaps of his fingers and your lips. Your eyelids feel heavy, brain foggy as he pushes them deeper into your mouth, just enough to have you gagging softly.

Then they’re gone.

In his own mouth now, he’s tasting remnants of his cum and pulling off his fingertips with a wet ‘pop!’while his free hand digs for the vanilla lube hidden somewhere in the couch.

“You’re gonna bounce on my fingers like a good boy,” both hands are at your briefs, tugging them down until there’s a loud ripping sound. Your eyes jet between Leon’s wide eyes and your tattered underwear, surprised. You’re not sure if he meant to do that, but it doesn’t matter, because your cock springs to life and jumps against your tummy. “Then my good boy’s gonna take it in his pussy. Okay?”

The question is barely registered but you’re nodding anyway, melting in the brunette’s strong embrace. His hands spread you open, one playing with the squishy flesh of your bum while the other’s slick fingers circle around your puckered entrance. With a wet ‘squilck’ the first finger is in, impossibly deep and hot as your gooey hole sucks it in further. You just can’t get enough, rocking your hips down to the last knuckle and grinding your cock against his own. There’s a sharp smack to your ass, the skin rippling under Leon’s quick palm as he groans, “Hnnh, so noisy n’ I barely started.”

His fingers have always been able to reach deeper than your own, sweet and tantalizing along your prostate as he finds it like he knows it, pressing and pressing and pressing until you’re seeing stars. He adds another, two in total, that slip past your velvety opening with almost no resistance. Usually you’d have to take a third, maybe, but he wants you to really feel it.

“Shh, sh. You hear it?” There’s another swat, stinging and loud as it hits the same exact spot. Your back arches beautifully, his fingers jolting deeper. You're quick to shake your head. “The dirty noises your hole’s makin’ while it takes my fingers?”

You’ll never get used to Leon’s cute face sputtering out such filthy words, it’s like whiplash. And you’re not entirely sure what he’s talking about, it’s hard to hear over the fog and sounds of your own babbling, but you can hear yourself answering anyway, “S’cause you fuck me so good.”

“Think it’ll be just as loud on my cock?”

“Even louder.” You whine, head falling forward into his thick shoulder as the head of his cock traces your slick, soft rim. There’s a cold trickle behind you, loud and squeaky— it’s more lube, enough to coat his cock, your ass, and then some. Enough to have the head of his cock catching on your entrance every time he slides it along your crack. There’s a soft kiss to your cheek, and a free hand creeps up your back to hold you there by the back of your head. You’re turning into a puddle, whining into the shell of Leon’s ear as his dick slides its first inch inside.

Your hole is so tiny. Even after being stretched full of his fingers, you’re gripping his cock like a vice. There’s a tiny, thin band where his head disappears into your warm hole, stretching and shining and sucking his dick further inside. You’re just so tight, sticky and inviting insides that feel like velvet around his thick, throbbing cock. Even as he tries to go slow, sucking in a sharp intake of breath through his teeth, Leon can’t get enough. His cheeks are flushed, deepening and blooming down his neck as he grips the globes of your ass and spreads them apart wide. Cold air runs along your hole, chilly enough to have you whining.

“F-hu-uuck, so tight,” He gasps, blinking rapidly as he watches your face fall into something floaty and, if he’s honest, cockdrunk. Twitching around him so much, you’re milking his cock for all it's got despite him barely being buried completely inside. Part of him wants to keep you on his tip, slipping it in and out your cute entrance until he’s shooting between the spheres of your ass, getting you sticky and hot with his cum. Marking you. “God, hhm, your pussy’s quivering around me so good…”

“Lee. . Leon, I can’t, want it so bad but I can’t. . .” You definitely can— in fact, you have. But he’s just so big, splitting you in two and whiting your brain out.

“Too much? Oh—haah— poor baby. Want me to stop?” He stills his hips, a breathless smile forming on his face when you try to take the reins. You lace your fingers with his own, squeezing hard as you rock your hips back and forth. “No? Then take it for me.”

Take it you do. Your body jerks as he fucks up into you, balls slapping against your ass and cock sliding against your prostate as sloppy, shallow sounds of your poor, drenched hole fill the room. Leon’s hair sticks to his forehead, stringy and disheveled as he whispers into your skin, grabbing handful after handful of your backside.

Beside you, his phone rings.

Leon nearly jumps out of his own skin, patting around the sofa to find his cell— trapped beneath a cushion. You don’t have time to read the Caller ID, something that begins with a ‘K’, but it’s clear he’s going to decline it. With the way he doesn’t spare a glance at you until after he’s got it in hand, and—

“Leon Kennedy.” His grip on your hips is enough to bruise, rocking your body down against his own. You can’t help but gasp, your thoughts spinning like clockwork in your head until your brain has gone light and airy like sugary, sweet cotton candy. All you can do is tighten around his dick, show Leon how much better you are than whoever’s on the phone. You can be good, you’re a good boy.

And you must’ve said it out loud, because he’s decided to busy your mouth with thick, sticky fingers. Even then, your voice isn’t nearly as loud as the wet squelching and slapping of skin against skin, his cock sliding in and out your puffy hole as lube gushes out around his dick in white ringlets. Like you’ve creamed on his cock, and if he looks close enough he can see it slip back inside with each thrust. You really are a good boy.

His fingers are hooked in your mouth, drawing pathetic sounds out of you until your eyes roll back into your skull and you can’t stop bouncing. Your thighs ache and burn but you want it so bad, your neglected cock stuttering along with your hips as he’s pushed deeper and deeper with every small ‘uh-huh!’ that leaves your lips.

“Yeah, that’s right,” He says into the phone, but it sounds more reserved for you. “Ah, yes sir. This job was. . . Christ, it was made for me!” He pulls the phone away for a brief moment. “This ass was made for me.”

His eyes are trained on you as he shoves his phone between his shoulder and ear, both hands on your hips to raise you on and off his cock. Your lip is bitten raw between your teeth, and you don’t realize he’s coaxing it free until he’s speaking, “Let ‘em hear who you belong to. Who’s that?”

“You! You, Leon. Leon.” Like a prayer, his name comes out slurred and crackly. An uninterrupted stream of titles and nicknames reserved just for him, your nails claw at his muscled back.

“That’s right, you’re mine,” There’s a hard, choppy thrust forward as he releases a hand to wrap it around your sensitive, weeping cock, “And this cock? This hole? Mine too.”

“Yeah, yeah, yours,” Clamping down on his shaft, your hand finds the small gap where his cock reappears. Your fingertips trace it, completely soaked but enough to have his balls tightening. “And you’re mine.”

“Fuckfuckfuck,” His phone falls to his side, hushed whines leaving the brunette’s strawberry lips. “All yours, whenever you want. Got that? My good boy gets to have his cock whenever he wants.”

His hand is fast and slick, his thumb running over your slit every so often just to watch the way your body convulses in response. But Leon’s sweet, he’s always been sweet to you, sweet enough to twist his fist the closer it gets to the tip. Sweet enough to tighten the grip he has around you when he gets to the base— when he can feel you’re about to cum.

“Oh, please!” With a dry sob you’re tugging at his wrist, wriggling your hips and falling back into his thick cock. “Wanna cum, Lee. Please let me cum, please.”

“Hey, hey. Don’t tap out now. You can cum for me when I say so, okay?” Your begging goes straight to his dick, pulsating and bullying the small bundle of nerves nestled in the heart shape of your ass. You can’t stop crying, handsome face covered in tears as you ride out the everlasting stretch of his cock forcing you open, just to leave you empty. Again, again, again.

You feel like molten lava, silky and warm as wet spurts of lube catch between the skin of your ass and his pelvis. He can’t take it, just as wrecked as you are when he feels his balls go rigid and impossibly full— he needs to claim you. Now.

His cum is warm— so thick and filling when he shoots right against your prostate. You’ve never felt more full in your life, your thighs lightly squeezing together in his lap as he releases your cock with one, two, three strokes. Your voice doesn’t sound like your own, loud squeals and cries of ‘Leon!’ as your cock twitches and pulses— cum leaking down his fingers as it catches along his fist. And he could be cruel, continuing to pump your cock past its limits. But instead he gauges your reaction with a few slow, experimental tugs— pulling away when your thighs start to shake a little too much.

“One more request for you, sweetheart.” He raises his hand, a slow drip of your own cum landing on his tummy. His hand is brought to your mouth, and Leon watches with an adoring coo as you lick it clean. It’s obvious you’re trying to stay present, trying not to sink too far deep into that sweet, mellow headspace he’s put you in.

“Thank you.” He says, though you’re much too tired to figure out just what he’s thanking you for. Leon pulls you off his cock despite your absentminded protests, blowing air through protruding cheeks when your rim is reluctant to let go.

“Mhm.” Your tongue is thick like molasses, eyes slowly blinking as you’re moved to sit beside him.

“Can I see, please?” He’s already maneuvering you onto your back and spreading your legs wide by your thighs and ankles, yet his pretty eyes flicker up to meet your face, almost as if he’s actually asking. They drastically brighten when you offer a tiny, well-fucked nod. His hands spread you open, watching his cum dribble from your used hole in collective globs. Makes you feel small and properly kept, you prop yourself up on your elbows as your pretty hole clenches around air.

Leon closes his eyes like he’s trying not to cream his (metaphorical) pants all over again, his thumb rubbing a sizable glob into your skin. Your legs close around his hand, holding him still as you whine.

“I know, I know. I’ll be gentle.” There’s a sweet, simple kiss placed to the back of your thigh before Leon stands, disappearing into what your lidded eyes can’t quite make out. But you know you’re whining, something about a ‘sorry’ or an ‘I made a mistake’ before his big, warm hands are back to hold onto your own.

Something wet and dripping— a cloth, is rubbed into your skin, slow and tender and later replaced by sprinkled kisses.

“Can I. . . stay, Lee?” You want to wince at the sound of your own voice, but you don’t think you have the energy to do so yet. You’re being pulled into his arms, sturdy and comforting— even with the faint smell of sex and musk damp on his skin.

“You’d be crazy to think I’m letting you go again.”

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captain-hawks · 6 months

Text

— shinichiro sano x reader

// jealousy, fluff, suggestive

“Cash or card?” you ask, ringing up the small pile of parts sitting on the counter before glancing back up at the man standing before you, fingers hovering above the pin pad beside the register as you await his response.

“That depends on if you’re free tonight…” he trails off with a smirk, glancing down to look at your shirt. “Sano.”

Brows furrowing, you look down as well, belatedly remembering that Shinichiro tossed you one of his work shirts earlier after you offered to handle customers while he spent the afternoon holed up in his office balancing the shop's books. His surname is embroidered in tidy, red cursive atop a white rectangle placed just above the left breast pocket of the dark blue button down, the patch miraculously clean despite the splotches of motor oil decorating the rest of the material.

“Oh, I’m actually—”

“Everything alright over here?” Shinichiro smoothly cuts in, seemingly appearing out of nowhere.

His dark eyes sparkle with mirth as he approaches, not at all subtle in the way his hand skirts along the small of your back before he casually leans on the counter and offers the customer a grin. The guy spares a glance at Shinichiro, and you can tell he’s aggravated by the interruption after all the effort he put into flirting with you from the second he walked in the shop. But then you clock it—the moment he spots the matching name tag on Shinichiro’s shirt, and his features morph into something closer to embarrassment.

“I thought you said you liked when I bat my eyes at customers and convince them to buy extra parts they don’t need whenever I’m here,” you tease when the front door swings shut after the man leaves, turning around and leaning back against the till.

Between one breath and the next, Shinichiro has you caged in, hands resting on the glass just shy of your hips. His breath warms the scant space between your mouths as he murmurs, “That was before we were dating.”

A small thrill crawls up your spine at the way he says it, like he’s also thinking about the night your years-long friendship (and an outrageous abundance of sexual tension) spontaneously caught fire in a tangle of wandering hands and desperate lips in this very shop, albeit up against the door in his office.

And on the desk afterward.

And in his car—neither of you had the patience to make it back to his apartment.

“Are you jealous, Shinichiro?” you coyly ask, tilting your head to the side and biting your lower lip, casually running your fingers along the expanse of your throat and continuing on to the name tag on your shirt, tracing it pointedly with the tip of your pinky.

He leans closer, and you can’t help the way your heart stumbles in your chest as the scent of your own shampoo hits you, the light, floral scent tangled in the black locks of hair falling over his forehead—still messy from the way he hastily towel-dried it in your bathroom this morning. Meanwhile, the familiar, smoky notes of his cologne cling to the shirt you’re wearing.

You shiver as his soft lips ghost over yours, calloused skin tracing over your own as he reaches up to cup your face, gently stroking your cheek with his thumb.

“Maybe,” he murmurs, tugging your body flush against his before capturing your mouth in a heated kiss.

#shinichiro sano x reader #shinichiro sano #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers fanfiction #dee writes #sano shinichiro #sano shinichiro x reader

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belovedmusings · 2 months

Text

God’s dead, and that’s all right with me.

Sukuna Ryomen x You

Explicit Smut 18+ (🚫Minors DNI🚫)

Part One of the 'Hell and back.' story. Click for story masterlist.

Sukuna Ryomen is the most fearsome syndicate head of the modern day. As such, you never in a million years expected him to wind up at your strip club in a dingy corner of town, but you’re going to make the most of it.

Relevant tags: Mafia! Sukuna, Stripper! Reader, rough sex, rough and sloppy blow job, cum swallowing, cowgirl, unprotected sex, cockwarming, multiple rounds, I don’t use “y/n” for better immersion, AFAB reader

Songs recommended while reading: Gods & Monsters (Lana Del Rey), Slow Down (Chase Atlantic), Swim (Chase Atlantic)

Cross-posted on Ao3.

Read below cut:

Sukuna Ryomen is the most fearsome syndicate head of the modern day. He looms like a storm cloud that threatens to unleash devastating hail at any moment over the city, ruling it with an iron fist. He’s the Two-Faced Demon incarnate, as you’ve heard those around you refer to him, the enigmatic man always addressed as if he was a mythical creature rather than a living, breathing person. He was the richest man in the city with his mountains of dirty money, each finger on his hands tied around the neck of all the local politicians and officials. As such, you never in a million years expected him to wind up at your stripclub in a dingy corner of town, so far away from the luxury of the inner city.

He stands out like a beacon in the night, with his sunset-colored hair and white suit, which is really only slacks and a blazer, shirt forgone to display the large black markings of his tattoos instead.

In your little corner on the outskirts of town, no one remotely interesting has ever come into the club. It’s usually slimy, older men, married and greedy for what they can’t have, salivating like dogs in heat for a glimpse at bodies that exist just out of their reach.

Sukuna is a reprieve from that. Someone young and gorgeous, with an aura of danger…and you’re attracted to him like a moth to a flame. So, you decide to move in on him—he’ll probably never be here again, so why don’t you have some fun with it?

You saunter towards the section he’s sitting in, a booth against the wall, deciding to walk by and glance at him for a second, enticement in your eyes but no need on your lips.

It works.

“Hey,” His deep, chalant voice calls to you. You pause, turning back around, leaning against the separator of his booth to the next.

“Hey,” You echo smoothly. The edge of his mouth turns up, interest flickering in his appraising eyes as he takes in your form.

“How much for a dance?”

“Twenty.”

A tilt of his head. “You know who I am, don’t you?”

You hum. “Sukuna Ryomen. Who doesn’t?”

“And you’re not gouging me?”

At that, you just snort. “Gouge you? I’m gonna enjoy dancing for you, I don’t need to gouge.”

He raises a brow, then his hand is up and he’s beckoning you towards him with a finger. “I gotta come to a shoddy little hole like this more often.”

You don’t reply to him, you just swing a leg up onto the booth in the seat beside him, waiting for him to tuck the cash into your garter. He reaches into his pocket, grabbing the small leather wallet from within and producing a twenty-dollar bill. As prompted, he slides it into your garter, brushing his calloused fingers over the skin of your thigh before you grab the pole beside you and hoist yourself up, beginning your dance.

You never get this much enjoyment out of performing for any man. They’re all the same, gross and worn-out, but Sukuna…there’s a fire in his eyes. Usually, you’re watched with impersonal hunger, but the way he’s looking at you now—it’s appreciative, calculated, controlled. He’s savoring every shape he finds in your body with his eyes, and it feels so good. By the end of it, you can feel yourself pulsing with arousal, the bottom of your skimpy lace set damp with the evidence.

It’s not lost on him; once you finish, slinking down with your legs parted to cage his body between your heels, ass on the cold wood of the table, he grabs your hips and pulls you into him abruptly, causing you to gasp.

“I can see how wet you are,” He murmurs under his breath, pushing you down into the evident bulge in his pants. It’s rock hard, and you have half a mind to maul him there in the lounge.

Immediately the security guard nearest to you springs into action, ready to intervene, but you hold a hand up to him.

“It’s okay,” You reassure him, feeling Sukuna’s palm shamelessly gripping at the flesh of your ass. “It’s welcome.”

“Mmm, welcome?” Purrs Sukuna, drawing your attention immediately away from the guard and making you forget all about him. “Just how welcome am I?”

You suck in a breath, meeting his eyes, such a brilliant, unusual brown that they appear almost red. You can only think one thought–fuck it.

“We have private rooms,” You inform him breathlessly, “…if you want.”

That pulls a breathy chuckle out of him, and he huffs, amused. “I think I’ll take you up on that offer, sweetheart.”

It’s sort of hard for you to recall the time it takes for you to get off of him, take his hand, and lead him to the hallway where you enter an empty room, locking it behind the two of you.

You’ve never been back to one of these with a customer, and immediately it reminds you of a motel bedroom, old wallpaper on the walls, worn carpet, and nothing but a bed and side table placed in the center with sheets and no comforter. Dingy, seedy, and for one purpose only.

He hums, sitting down on the edge. “This place is no Vixens for sure.”

The name of an upscale club closer to the center of the city. You laugh softly, choosing to be bold and straddle his lap. His hands find your ass immediately, as if they’ve been there a million times.

“It’s not,” You agree, “I’m no Vixen girl.”

“Mmm, I’m not missing out on much,” He grins wolfishly, admiring your figure again. “They all start to look the same once you realize they have the same surgeon. Don’t know how many girls’ bodies I’ve paid for over there by now.”

“A frequent visitor, then?” You ask, running a hand over his chest. He laughs haughtily.

“Like you have room to talk. I’m just another client.”

The smile you give him is full of chagrin. “I don’t actually take anyone back here. You’re the first.”

“Oh, I won’t believe that, but nice try,” He holds your chin between his index and thumb. “Now…it seems I’ve ensnared my prey for tonight.”

The predatory edge to his gaze should scare you, but if you do feel fear it quickly converts to arousal. If the way the world works is truly survival of the fittest, you’d be the first to go. You know that now for sure.

Sukuna Ryomen is not a gentleman, but then again, you dance naked for a living so you aren’t a saint either. Two souls, both sold, entwining within the heady musk of a room fortified with filth. You only serve to add to it.

He puts you on your knees first. It takes him no time at all to pull his cock out, hot, heavy, and thick beyond belief, with a length that sets your insides ablaze when you can wrap both hands around it and still see the tip.

“Suck,” is all he commands, and like a concubine determined to service her master, you get to work.

You may not usually offer sex for money like some of the other girls at your club, but you’re far from inexperienced.

With him, you feel like you can be as bold as you want and he’ll enjoy it. So you just go for it.

You part your lips and take him in, sliding the large cock back to your throat where the gag reflex has long been evicted.

He groans, grabbing you by the back of the head and forcing you to stay down. You moan, the vibrations adding fuel to his fire, and he pulls you back for a moment.

“Breathe now, because you’re not comin’ up again until I say.”

That and five more seconds is the only warning you get before he slams you back down, starting to properly fuck your face.

It’s a blur of push, pull, stretch, gasp for an immeasurable amount of time, the musky taste of his skin mixing with the salt of his precum running down your burning throat on its own volition, swallowing only triggered when he thrusts particularly hard.

You can vaguely feel the tears running down your face, not from discomfort but from reaction alone; he’s conducting your body as if you’re a symphony and he alone holds the baton, cueing your every move.

“Fuck,” he hisses, looking down at you with sharp eyes. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

You make an incoherent, garbled noise, your own arousal dripping down your thighs at this point, effectively ruining your set for the night. You won’t be able to dance in it after this, although, if this keeps up you won’t be able to dance tonight at all.

He throws his head back and gives you a guttural groan, hot, bitter seed pouring down your throat in thick rivulets.

Sukuna straightens back out and looks down at you. “Clean it up. Every last drop.”

You moan, sucking on him just to be sure you collect it all, and only then does he pull off.

“Tongue. Show me you swallowed.”

Obediently, you do just that, lips puffy and abused but tongue clean of cum.

“Good.”

He sniffs. Sitting back down on the bed, laying sideways, and regarding you for a moment, still on your knees and almost shaking with how turned on and untouched you are.

“You haven’t gotten any pleasure, huh?” He asks, leaning on his hand thoughtfully. You nod, clearing your throat.

“I’m,” it comes out raspy and hoarse. He guffaws, a salacious grin playing on his face. You try again. “I’m soaking.”

“Yeah?” He asks, casual and uncaring. “Hmm…I could toss you my cash and leave you here like I usually do…let you take care of it yourself…”

You wait to hear the other option, begging him to choose whatever it is as long as he gives you something.

“Or…I could reward you…since I enjoyed you so thoroughly…though I have to warn you, it’s not for the weak.”

Interest flares inside you. “I’m not weak.”

“Oh, well, you did take what I just gave you like a champ, so I suppose,” He acknowledges with a shrug.

The room is silent for a moment before he hums decidedly. “Get up here. Kneel in front of my face.”

And you do so. He hums, eyeing you without an ounce of shame.

“You are quite wet. Look at your thighs, all shiny and sloppy.”

You don’t have time to reply, because he suddenly reaches out, pushing two of his fingers inside of you deeply. A gasp leaves your lips, but he ignores it.

“Pussy’s tight and soaked,” He states as if giving an appraisal. He looks up into your eyes, beginning to pump his digits in and out slowly, making sure to press hard every time they slide in. “Think you can take my cock inside?”

Your heart begins pounding in your chest. There’s not another man like him, you can’t explain it. Nodding, you say, “I can.”

“Eager,” He laughs, amused. “You’d probably do it for free, wouldn’t you?”

A shameful red blooms across your face, and you suddenly feel self-conscious. He chuckles, low and breathy. He grips your chin firmly, forcing your eyes to meet his.

“Don’t worry, I’ll compensate you prettily for your work,” He almost cooes, letting you go and laying down on his back. “You will work for it, though. I already got my fill.”

You become perplexed. “How?”

He glances down to his soft cock, laying against his abdomen, then back at you expectantly.

“You want it, come and get it.”

It dawns on you that if you want any sort of satisfaction tonight, you’re going to have to do the work. Fine, then. One of the perks of doing this line of work is the ability to easily shake off any shame. You want what you want and you’re gonna take it.

The first thing you do is lose the platforms adorning your feet, their weight dropping with a satisfying ‘thunk’ to the floor.

You then straddle his hips, taking his flaccid cock in hand and, after moving your soaked g-string aside, take him by surprise by slipping him inside of you just like that. He breathes in deeply, sensitive no doubt, and you start rolling your hips to get him hard, removing the straps of your skimpy top and exposing your breasts to him.

“Heh,” A crooked smile adorns his lips, “You were born to do this, weren’t you?”

You’re starting to think you were too, but not just for any man. The kind of guys that come in here are nowhere near Sukuna Ryomen. For him only, you can become whoever you are right now.

You nod, feeling him begin to harden inside of you, the sensation sending hot shivers cascading down your spine. As you begin to get more into it, he follows suit, hands exploring your body. First they fondle the malleable flesh of your breasts, then down your waist, your hips, gripping it tightly. You mewl, speeding up, his dick now stiff inside of you. He’s huge but it definitely helped to start out with him soft, because now he’s locked in, and all you have to do is move.

Wanting to feel more, you raise yourself up on him and drop back down harshly, the depths of you intruded by his length. It makes you release a cry, and before you can recover, his hands have found your ass, gripping it so hard it hurts. He starts to guide you faster on his cock, arm muscles straining beneath the fabric of his blazer.

“Sukuna,” The name leaves your lips before you can stop it, and for a moment you think you’ve messed up until he doubles down on his efforts, groaning deeply in his throat.

“Fuck,” He hisses, “Say it again.”

“Sukuna,” it comes out even more debauched than the first one, and slaps your ass hard, the sting causing you to flutter around him, his hips stuttering with the effort to move in such a confined space.

“You’re fucking tight…”

All you can do is whimper, not even participating in the movements anymore, just letting them happen to you, taking whatever he decides to give you.

He seems to notice this, because your back meets the sheets in the same breath, the syndicate head suddenly on top of you.

With the new leverage, he really begins drilling into you, and desperate, obscene drawls start pouring from your lips, so loud and abandoned that if the music wasn’t so loud in the lounge, someone would surely come looking for you in concern.

His hands are on the backs of your knees, pushing them down, folding you in half without regard for whether you can bend that way or not, and he’s screwing you so absolutely hard that the coil inside you begins winding without any touch at all.

“Sukuna,” You mewl, completely wrecked now, “Gonna cum…”

“Fuck,” He grunts, “You’re gonna make me cum again…”

Your response is a choked moan, and all it takes are the three subsequent, hard snaps of his hips for you to shout his name, cumming so hard your body shakes.

“Shit,” Sukuna seethes through his teeth, pulling out and jerking himself off a few times before his second load paints your abdomen and thighs, staining the parts of your set it lands on, and you feel yourself clenching on nothing, gaping in the absence of his shape.

The sharp-eyed man takes in the sight of you for a moment before climbing off of you and getting to his feet. He walks over to the lone nightstand in the room, grabbing the tissue box and tossing it onto the bed, grabbing a few for himself to clean up.

You sit up, taking your own tissues and cleaning yourself off.

“Gotta say,” He breaches the silence after the tissues are disposed, your lingerie readjusted as good as you could get it. “I ain’t fucked like that in a long time.”

A loose smirk slides over your lips. “Me neither.”

He moves over to you, holding out a wad of cash. Your eyes widen–the girls that do take clients into private rooms usually make a hundred or two hundred at best per man, and what you see in front of you is easily at least a couple thousand.

“Don’t be shy now,” He says, “I’m loaded and you worked for it.”

He’s not wrong. You won’t deny him.

Once it’s in your hands, he flashes you another grin. “It was fun, uh…?”

You realize he’s prompting for your name, so you give it to him. He repeats it, the contours of his voice giving it a quality you’ve never heard before when other people say it.

“Hope to see you again,” He says, heading for the door.

You watch him go, replying with, “you know where to find me.”

He hums, looking back at you for a moment with that confident simper before he exits.

Once you’re alone again, you take a look at the stack of cash, taking a look at how much he gave you. Three thousand.

“Holy shit,” You gasp, eyeing the money with bulging eyes. That’s an entire good week’s worth and then some.

You look back up at the door, thoughts echoing his last words to you.

Hope to see you again.

A/N: my first Sukuna piece!! I love how this turned out...and yes, this will be a series.

So excited for this new story. Something about a stripper and a syndicate man just works for me. I had to sugar-coat him a lil but he's still Sukuna... p.s. doing research, I learned "Ryomen" isn't Sukuna's name technically, but the name of a folktale/mythical demon? So it's kinda funny using that as his last name but for purposes, we'll just role with it lmao

In true D fashion, it's going to be full of drama, so comment here or on the masterlist for updates!

#jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x you #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk imagines #sukuna x you #sukuna headcanons #sukuna x reader #sukuna #ryomen sukuna #sukuna smut #sukuna ryomen #sukuna x y/n #hell and back fic

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darthannie · 8 months

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kinktober day one: overstimulation with robert fischer

pairing: Robert Fischer x f!reader word count: 973 warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, Overstimulation, a smidge of non-con (you’ll see when), Robert drives himself places because I said so a/n: HAPPY FIRST DAY OF KINKTOBER. I hope I make it through the whole thing. Enjoy day one!!!

Kinktober Masterlist

Friday nights were special to Robert. It was the one night a week he set aside for himself, and more specifically, for you.

He loved taking care of you. When everything felt like it was getting too much he turned to you.

You and Robert were out on a date at a beautiful restaurant on the water. You spent the night conversing and making him laugh. You truly did make him happy.

You wore his favorite dress on purpose. You knew he’d be dying to take it off by the end of the night. The deep green fabric hugged at your waist and stopped at the knee. You took his breath away the first time you wore it. And, he almost ripped a hole in it the first time he tried to take it off.

At the end of dinner, he gave the waiter his black Amex before he could even show him the bill. You had hearts in your eyes. You never expected the honeymoon period in your relationship to last over three years, yet here you were.

When the waiter returned to the table, Robert handed him a hefty cash tip. You both got up and Robert reached out his hand for you to grab. He guided you out of the restaurant. While outside the valet returned with his car.

Robert opened the door for you and you held his hand as you slipped into his silver Mercedes. He walked around to the driver’s side and got in quickly. Robert had one thing on his mind all night. He couldn’t wait to get home and slip that pretty green dress off your body.

When he finally did get you both home he was kissing you before you were even through the threshold. He was hungry for you. He grabbed your wrist and dragged you up the stairs. When you got to your shared bedroom he took off his blazer and you took off your heels.

You reached for his suspenders and dragged them off his shoulders. He kicked off his shoes. Then, you untucked his shirt and started unbuttoning it quickly. Once it was off you dragged your hands across his chest.

He grabbed your chin lightly and brought his lips close to yours. “You really want it tonight, don’t you?” You could hear the smirk in his voice.

“Really fucking bad, Robert.”, you played along.

“You’re gonna be begging me to stop, baby.” He kissed your neck.

You giggled and replied, “Yeah, right.”

He pulled away and raised an eyebrow, “‘Yeah, right?’ Do you think I’m bluffing?”

“Yeah, maybe you are.” You had meant it in a joking manner, but you could tell it struck a chord.

He hummed and reached his hand to the back of your dress, unzipping it. He placed both hands on your shoulders and dragged the dress off you, exposing your breasts and a lacey excuse for underwear. He hooked his fingers over the hem and tore them off. The sound of fabric ripping cut through the silence.

His jaw clenched as he reached in between your legs, feeling how wet you were.

He spoke in a low tone, “I think tonight… I’m gonna make you cum as many times as I say.”

He pulled his hand away and dragged you to the bed. He took off the rest of his clothing and dove down on top of you. You giggled as you crashed down onto the mattress. You liked it whenever Robert got playful, but tonight it seemed like it was something beyond playful.

Tonight he wanted control.

You grabbed his cock and began to stroke it. He held in a moan and grabbed your wrist to stop you.

“Not tonight. We’re doing something different tonight,” he grunted as he entered you quickly.

He hit a spot so deep your body jerked up. He started fucking you with reckless abandon, using his thumb on your clit to make you cum faster than you ever had. You squeezed his cock as you came.

He pulled out before he could cum and brought himself down to your clit. Before you could even recover his tongue was working on you.

Your voice was unstable, “Robert, what are you doing? Fuck.”

He didn’t respond. He was too busy sucking on your clit. The sensation was taking over your body. It felt like pins and needles all over your skin. He made you cum again but didn’t move away from you. He kept going, making your entire body shake. Whines and whimpers were all you were able to let out. Any words you had on your mind died before they even reached your tongue.

He got back into position and started to fuck you again. You were thrashing around underneath him. To put a stop to your convulsion, he pinned down your wrists and laid on top of you.

“Please, Robert, enough!”, you pleaded.

He smirked, “Told you you’d be begging me to stop.”

You wanted to be firmer in your reaction. Fight him. Scream at him to stop. But, you couldn’t. He’s never made you feel like this before. You were completely broken and it was the best you’ve felt in ages.

He made you cum again and he let go of your wrists. You put your arms around his neck and pulled him in for a kiss. He fucked you through your orgasm. You were panting as he came inside you. He was loud tonight; his moans filled the room.

He pulled out and your body trembled. All the stimulation was a complete shock to your system. You thought it was over, but then you saw him crawling back to your pussy. He licked and you yelped, trying to close your legs as he held them open.

He fixed his hair and asked, “Think I’m bluffing now?”

Taglist:

@devotedlyshadowytheorist, @dxnger-dxys, @tommyshelbywhore, @quinnlilias,@madnessandobsession, @mvpr-moon, @nela-cutie, @faebirdie, @charmed-asylum, @anasanthology, @ilikefictionalmen, @akanne-aka

(If something is up with your tag or you would like to be added, let me know!)

#kinktober ‘23 #cillian murphy fic #cillian murphy #cillian murphy x reader #robert fischer smut #robert fischer x reader #annie writes

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upsidedownwithsteve · 10 months

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MY NAME IS WHATEVER YOU DECIDE | A WORK IN PROGRESS

Sure enough, you turned the corner to hole eight to see a group of young men talking and laughing around their own golf cart. You saw some familiar faces, all known for being young, handsome and rich.

Billy Hargrove of Hargrove’s Vintage Motors. Crude, sharp witted, too flirtatious, he was the next in line to take over his father’s company and fortune, selling refurbished vehicles for prices that made your eyes water.

Jonathan Byers was there too, a young mogul who was up and coming in the art world. Once a critic, his photography had shot to fame after some black and white nudes of his then girlfriend were ‘leaked’ to the paper he once worked for. His family paid it all off as some sort of art nouveau exhibition, a look into scandal and sex in 30mm film. He lost his girlfriend but landed a gallery in the downtown neighbourhood of San Francisco.

Eddie Munson, someone you actually knew from high school. A decent guy, there because he worked for it, illegally, sure - but didn’t they all? One way or another? Selling weed and who knows what else to the majority of the population of Hawkins made for a popular man, but Eddie brought in bank when he started selling to the elite, the rich kids of Hawkins High who preferred powder at their parties. He got into The Lake House with cold, hard cash instead of his family name and he stayed in the background of it, usually.

#steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fanfic

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celestiaras · 4 months

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‧₊˚✧ ❛[ deep in puppy love ]❜

ft. luca kaneshiro x f! reader — luxiem, nijisanji en

╰₊✧ luca is just like cerberus, the three-headed hellhound of the underworld— terrifying, but a puppy nonetheless for his master┊1k words

contains: smut!! dom reader & sub luca┊puppy-hybrid luca, pet play & pet names (puppy, good boy), lingerie, receiving oral, giving praise, coming untouched

➤ author's note: i love powerful men being submissive and down bad

₊˚ʚ 💌₊˚✧ birthday gift to the wonderful moot & writer @cryingaboutit1514!! (i hope a luca will suffice)

luca kaneshiro is the most infamous mafia boss in the nation who doesn’t have a single competitor for his title because they have either been integrated into his group or stomped out entirely if they refused to go out peacefully. his pockets are deeper than the mariana trench and bursting at the seams with cash and gold, helping him secure his choke-hold on the city’s corrupted authorities. just his name alone is enough to bring dread to any of his enemies who still haven’t been picked off by his men. shockingly, he isn’t in power primarily because of the terror factor, it’s because of the undying loyalty his men and executives have for him where they are willing to lay down their lives for him at their own volition.

as scary and intimidating as he seems to be, those close to him like family and friends will know how sweet he truly is. his iconic white fedora helps to hide his fuzzy ears while his back is never turned to show his fluffy tail, he’s true to his half-blood of being a golden retriever and well-beloved because of his innocent personality at heart that loves to get along with everyone.

although, even family and friends occasionally feel like they are walking on eggshells when interacting with him, anxious that one wrong word could spell their name on his list of those on his bad side. there’s only one person who didn’t have to watch their words so closely around him and could freely be themselves around him without the fear of crossing him, the only person who could boss around the mafia boss with him wrapped around their finger.

his tail wagged and thumped against the hardwood floor, his violet eyes staring at the beautiful black lace that graced your skin. he could see your arousal with his heightened sense of smell and it was driving him absolutely mad, trying to get closer to you so that he could get a taste. if you weren’t pushing back his head, he probably would have forgotten to rip it and would have tried to give you oral through the fabric with how excited he was.

“please, please, please,” he whimpered, voice filled with desperation to the point that he seemed like he could crack and cry if he didn’t have his face on your pretty pussy at that very second.

“please what, puppy?”

“please, let me eat you out… you look so sexy…”

“well, since you asked so nicely…” stilling keeping him at arm’s length, you slowly slipped off the intricate underwear along your leg and presented your glistening folds to his eager eyes. his hand moved to grip his erect cock that was painfully straining against his abs with white beads of pre-cum leaking out of the angry red tip, but you stopped him in the act and tutted, “you can touch yourself once i say so.” he looked so cute when he pouted and whined that you were half-tempted to change your mind, “don’t you want to be a good boy for me?”

as soon as the words “good boy” left your mouth, his demeanor changed immediately as any desire to pleasure himself evaporated back into the desire to serve you. it really took everything in him not to pounce on you and fuck you into the mattress, but he wanted to remain as your obedient puppy.

you gasped in surprise at his speed once you let go of him, his large hands grabbing onto your ankles to pull you towards him. his tongue roughly glided over your sopping hole, greedily lapping at your clit and flicking at it with the tip. he was so sloppy and loud, the sound of sex and your moans spurring him on to get drunk on you. no thought or calculation went into it, just pure unaltered passion and need to make you undone.

“ah, fuck, g-good boy!” you panted and began lightly grinding your cunt against his face, reaching out to scratch at his floppy golden ears. “doing so well for me!” the stimulation had your mind all fuzzy and almost numb as you continued to cry out words to praise, his actions becoming more erratic with everything you said.

no matter how many times he’s done this, he’s still so goddamn messy. his lack of self-control has your juices spilling down his chin and onto the expensive silk sheets below, just like a starving dog would when it’s able to feast at last.

his tongue kept assaulting your entrance, swirling around and curling against that spongy spot that sent electricity up your spine. he felt your thighs twitch and wrap around his head with the end of his blonde hair tickling the skin, driving him more into you and telling him that you needed just a bit more of a push.

in just a few more seconds, your vision sparked white as you climaxed and made a mess all over his lower face, arching your back as you flooded his lower face. he still licked away at your sweetness even when your legs loosened their hold on him, riding out your orgasm until you told him (nearly begged him with how pussydrunk he was) to stop.

when he finally pulled back, panting and out of breath with a flushed face, you could see a white splatter on his muscles indicating that he was already finished without any stimulation. he didn’t even realize that he came yet, his cock still rock-hard and begging for your attention.

you chuckled at his disheveled appearance and reached out to bring him closer, allowing him to join you on the bed instead of kneeling at the foot of it. “aw, does the puppy want a reward for being good?” you almost audibly laughed at how promptly he nodded his head, leaning into your touch to rest on top of you and begin to not-so-subtly rut into your leg. he really is a good puppy even though he’s acting like a bitch in heat for you, but that’s what happens when the mafia boss is madly in love.

#📜. her works #nijisanji #nijisanji x reader #nijisanji smut #luca kaneshiro #luca kaneshiro x reader #luca kaneshiro smut #luxiem #luxiem x reader #luxiem smut

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horror102 · 11 months

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Un-perfect?

(Patrick Bateman X Fem! Reader)

TW!! Angst, crying, manipulation, abandonment, murder, kissing.

You look down at your watch, you picked out a necklace for you and Patrick’s hundredth date he assured you, you both should go on.

He ushered you to go and pick out a necklace for he didn’t want to pick the wrong one.

And unexpectedly you found the one you wanted in an instant, it was being showcased and you purchased it, early than Patrick expected.

You walked up to the register, your black heels tapped the marble tills as you strutted toward the counter.

Pulling cash out, and asking how much would it cost, a feisty bill of 230. You paid it off and hurriedly ushered over a taxi.

Awkwardly saying hello and then telling the man your destination, surprisingly he drove fast, after he saw the money in your purse.

You thanked him whilst digging your key out the purse and stepping on the sidewalk.

You pressed your key code and walked up the steps, taking a left to the elevator. As you got in you dialed your floor number. Key in hand.

As it opened, you heels tapped the carpet, sounding more muffled than before. You took a two-step jog towards your door. Pulling your dress down and putting the necklace on.

Sliding the key into the key hole, you turned it with a *click!* stepping instead on the porcelain floor.

“Patrick?”

You coughed, only to hear shuffling. And music, you giggled to yourself wondering what he had in store.

You took of your heels, and walked onto the carpet side, your feet being rested and comforted by the new position and footing. You tip-toed towards the shuffling trying to be sneaky.

Opening the door with a slight creak.

You snatch the door open a wide smile on your face as you yelled “Patrick!” In happiness.

You saw him crouched down in a suit, plastic around his body. His head snapped towards you by the sound of your yelping voice. He stood hurriedly, almost in a panic. Trying to cover water he was hiding with his posture.

“Patrick?”

Your voice coed into his ears, you tilted your head over and he watched as your jaw dropped from what you had seen.

You took two steps back, eyes still wide from shock.

“Dear, honey-”

He spoke, a welcoming head stretched forward.

You let out a petrifying scream, he immediately rushed forward and grabbed your hand pulling you into his chest. A hand over your mouth but slightly tilted so you could breath from your nose.

He whispered

“Calm down,”

Repeatedly whilst giving harsh pressuring kisses on your forehead. His other hand over your chest, monitoring your heartbeat.

He waited until your heartbeat cooled down before he let you go carefully whilst locking the door.

“Listen to me.”

He commanded. Kicking whoever’s body over flat. You gulped in response nodding your head repeatedly.

“You trust me right, you know I would never hurt you?”

You nodded again, lips cracked and dry. From paranoia. You backed yourself into a corner. Eyes full of water threatening to fall. And when they did Patrick let out a sigh.

“Listen, don’t cry. I did this for us. You know I would never do this to hurt you, right?”

You gathered the courage to speak, anger filled in your veins.

“For us, that’s ridiculous! You did this for yourself, you did this for your own nasty desire Patrick. Your cold blooded, your a murderer!”

He, let out another sigh pressing his finger to his lips in a hushing motion, he kicked the body again in annoyance accidentally giving you a glance of the persons face.

“You killed- My only friend Patrick. My God!”

You yelled running towards the body, knees to your chest and hands on theirs.

They were obviously dead though still you put your head on their lifeless chest empathizing.

“See? Look at that. Your all over him my love, how could I resist?! This isn’t my fault, it’s yours.”

You looked up at him in disbelief of him blaming you. And you were overly fed up, you had kept his little secret of killing his coworker.

“My fault, God your heartless Patrick. Your so un-perfect than what you pretend to be.”

He paused. Frozen in his footsteps.

“Un-perfect?”

You hurriedly nodded once again, placing your head on the lifeless corpse chest, muffled cries leaving your lips.

He gripped your by your neck and threw you back, grabbing the body and pushing you out the way. Locking the door and taking the key leaving you there alone.

You shook in the corner of your room. Wondering how much did he lie about? Did he lie about his love? His obsession with you? Did he lie about his vowels at your wedding?

Stuck in shock, and absurd disgrace.

You heard the clicking of the door and your head snapped in it’s direction. He came inside not locking the door behind himself.

Getting on one knee before placing a hand on your face and giving your forehead a little kiss.

“I love you. You know that right?”

Lies, lies, lies, you thought you fist clenched and jaw tightened, you quickly turned your lips away when he went in for a kiss.

“I don’t love you.”

He froze as you let out those words letting out a chuckle.

“Don’t lie to yourself, we love eachother.”

You were done, you were sick and tired of this facade he was strung to put up.

“I don’t love you anymore, I’m tired of these fucking lies Patrick. Go ahead, do it, go ahead and kill me like you did the others. Be the fucking killer you are.”

His jaw clenched in anger, he tightened his grip on your hand. Giving it a soft kiss before saying that he’d be right back unknowingly dropping the key out his pocket. He left the room, and immediately you took notice of the key.

You heard the bathroom door close and you rushed out. Locking the bathroom door, and running outside of the apartment hallways. You heard Patrick thrust and bang at the bathroom door before finally breaking it down.

Yelling and roaring your name, though you were already on the bottom floor barefooted, bout time you heard his thumping footsteps. You made it outside and you ran to a far away pay phone calling the police to the apartment.

You ran to some nearby woman, and told them about your situation. They also called the cops and the police picked you up and let you stay the night at the department.

You were utterly shocked when they came back and said they saw no one there, and Patrick Bateman was no where to be found.

Patrick had ran away somewhere, he already planned to start a new life. But whilst he was running from the apartment you struck his mind.

“My wife.”

He mumbled to himself choking on his tears, as he ran at full speed growing lightheaded.

He nibbled on his bottom lip holding back his cries, sure he might’ve lied to you about where he went and what he did. But never, was he love for you wasn’t true. The flashbacks of his vowels flashed his mind.

“Through life and death, I’ll always love you. Between truths and lies. You’ll always have the deepest puncture in my heart.”

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herlondonboy · 1 year

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Begin Again

pairings: Taylor Swift x gn!reader

summary: just listen to Begin Again (Taylor’s Version).

warnings: none, it’s just fluff.

word count: 1.0k

A/N: for my friend that read the last TS oneshot and complained about how sad it was. Hope this fills up the ever-present hole in your heart like the Wanda smut did, emo boy xx

It was Wednesday.

Probably your least favourite day of the week. It consisted of standing behind the till of a small coffee shop and making coffee for obnoxious customers that don’t understand that ‘we don’t have any more soya milk’ means that you’re out of soya milk.

You stood up with a heavy sigh when you heard the bell above the door ring and looked up. When you met eyes with the blonde that was walking over to you, you held your breath.

Her sunglasses blocked her eyes, but her smile was obviously genuine as she appeared at the counter.

You stammered to greet her, scratching your forehead as your cheeks and ears warmed up dramatically.

The blonde across chuckled at your nerves, assuming that you were trepidatious because she was her, “Hi!” She grinned, half expecting you to ask for a signature or photo because that’s what most people do when they see a celebrity, right?

You gave a nervous laugh, and you cleared your throat, “Uh, hey! What can I get for you?” You bit your lip, trying your hardest not to shamelessly check her out.

Keyword, ‘tried’.

“You’re staring at my chest,” Taylor said with a grin, making your eyes snap up to her, “I think you’re intending to admire my necklace, but it’s coming off as you staring at my chest,” She bit her lip.

Your eyes brightened at the reference, “Oh! Rose to Derek in season 4,” You pointed at her, making her laugh and nod. You smiled before shaking your head and glancing down for a second, “So, what can I get you?”

The blonde’s eyes widened in remembrance, “Uh, a tall, black coffee, please,” She asked sweetly.

“I’d ask for your name, but you’re the only one in here, so,” You chuckled, typing her order into the cash register as she handed you the money to put in the drawer.

Taylor frowned in realisation before smiling brightly and shaking her head, walking over to sit down. You smiled and turned to make her drink, which was probably the simplest one to make.

When you handed Taylor her drink, she thanked you and you went back. Sitting back behind the counter, you kept on glancing up at the blonde who was typing away on her laptop. When she was done, she walked back over to the counter with a cherry smile.

You glanced up and smiled politely, giving a simple goodbye, before looking back down. “It’s Taylor,” The singer said.

“What?” You asked in confusion.

“My name. You said you wouldn’t need it, but I want you to have it, so… It’s Taylor.”

Your eyes lit up and you stood, “I’m Y/N,” You shook her hand, “Same time next week?” You joked.

The blonde laughed and nodded, “of course.” She left, but not before dropping a hefty tip in the tip jar.

Taylor didn’t come the next week, much to your dismay, but she did the week after. Apologies were thrown at you, but you shook them all off, making her a drink. She sat down and you repeated the same process from the first time, only this time when Taylor came to tip you, you didn’t exchange names.

When Taylor walked over to you with her mug, you felt your cheeks warm up once more, “Uh, I know we don’t really know each other that well, but I was wondering if you wanted to get something to eat?”

“Like a date?” Taylor asked, making you look down. “I’d love to go on a date with you, Y/N.”

You grinned, blushing, “Do you, uh, do you want my number?”

Taylor nodded and pulled out her phone, typing each number that you said and texting you so that you had her number, too. She liked you, a lot. It was nice being friends with someone who had a normal, balanced life, that didn’t know her as Taylor Swift, but just Taylor.

On Friday that week, you sat, anxiously tapping away on your table. It was bordering on 7 pm, the time that you and Taylor had agreed on, and you were half expecting Taylor not to turn up. When the door opened, you saw Taylor and stood up as she walked over to you. She got to the table and you pulled out her chair, allowing her to sit, before pushing her in.

You didn’t know how nice that action was, but she did.

The dinner went smoothly, and before you knew it, you were organising another date. Wednesdays quickly began your favourite day, as Taylor would try and make it to the little coffee shop every week at a similar time.

Taylor: I’m sorry, I can’t make it today. Something came up, I’ll be there next Wednesday. I promise

Y/N: Don’t worry about it!

Y/N: I was actually wondering if you wanted to catch a movie on Saturday? They’re playing Zookeeper at the theatre.

Taylor: I’d love to!

Saturday rolled around and after the movie, the two of you chuckled together, walking hand in hand to Taylor’s car. It went silent, and Taylor thought she had to say something so she spoke up, “You know, my bo-“

“You know, my pa-“ you spoke at the same time, making you grin. Taylor motioned for you to speak first and you nodded, “My parents actually bought that movie theatre back in the eighties. A few years before I was born. What were you gonna say?”

Taylor shook her head, ridding all thoughts of her ex-boyfriend, and smiled up at you, “This has been a great few weeks, you know?” She asked, “It was really nice meeting you, Y/N.”

She went to slip into her car when you called her name, making her turn back to you, “Will you be my girlfriend?”

The blonde grinned and nodded, “I’d love to be your girlfriend.”

You looked up at the sky to hide your smile before looking down at the ground, “Can I kiss you?”

“Please do,” Taylor whispered and you leaned forward, connecting your lips with hers, completely oblivious to the camera flashes around you.

#Taylor swift #taylor swift x reader #taylor swift imagine #Taylor swift oneshot #taylors version #red taylor’s version #red taylor swift #red tv #begin again #fluff #fearless taylor’s version #fearless #midnights #midnights 3am edition #elijah writes

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harossoup · 5 months

Text

Make up your time

@harossoup

Genre: Smut, office job

Warnings: Unestablished relationship, cursing, eating out, sex, reward sex, lmk if I missed anything

Pair: Boss!Seungmin x Worker!Reader

The Uber you were in was playing soft Lofi from the recorder, refreshing your mind, making you almost forget the fact that you slept in late, due to your faulty alarm clock.

"This is your stop," the driver told you, the car stopped in front of a tall office building, the one where you worked.

"Thank you!" You thanked the driver before handing them cash and taking your bag off the seat, then proceeding to step out of the car and walk towards the building.

As you opened the doors, you signed in with your badge tied over your neck, which was just minutes ago dangling over your plain white buttoned-up work shirt that was neatly tucked into your black skirt, ending a bit before your thighs and your black heels tapping over the ground as you walked.

Once you made it to the elevator, you quickly stepped inside, the shiny reflective metal clanking as you stepped. The assortment of buttons stood displayed neatly beside the door, which you clicked "floor, 3" in response to since it was the floor your office was on.

Silence was one of the only sounds in the elevator, apart from buzzing as you went up.

Once you stepped out of the elevator, with a long stride you felt the air tense up as eyes turned to you. The people beside the printer staring at you, and so was almost every person out of their reserved office.

You saw one of you co-workers coming towards you, making you freeze.

"Ms.|Reader's name|, Mr.Kim said after the last-minute meeting that if anyone saw you, to tell you that you needed to come to his office." She said, before sighing and walking off.

"Oh fuck my life, a last-minute meeting the day I'm late?" You asked yourself under your breath before heading to Seungmin's office.

The door swung open, cold air blowing into your face as it did.

"Hi, Sir," you said while walking in and sitting on a chair in front of his desk. He only stopped typing after he heard your voice.

"Why are you late?" He hissed under his breath, his attention directly on you.

"Sir there's something wrong with my alarm clock," you notified him with a shaking voice.

"You're gonna have to make up that time tonight." He said, unapologetically before saying "Go do your work" angrily.

After you left his office, your head was down, making you feel humiliated whilst walking back to your stall.

Once you sat down in your chair, your fingers quickly worked at getting work done.

Before you knew it, it was late noon. The time you'd usually clock out along with everybody else, and you had all your work finished. So now, you were on your phone resting while still trying to make up time for your absence this morning.

Soon, you heard the footsteps of flat shoes and saw a large black shadow towering over you.

"What're you doing on your phone?" Seungmin asked, sighing after which made you turn around after placing down your phone.

"I've finished my work" you answered, making heavy eye contact with him.

"Oh yeah?" He cooed, leaning closer to your face.

You nodded in agreement, but the way he was staring at you started to make you horny and you felt your panties getting wet.

"Should I reward you for finishing your work so quickly?" He questioned you, smirking a bit.

You broke eye contact and accidentally looked at his length, a bulge between his legs showing an outline in his pants.

When he saw where you were looking, he collided his lips with yours, making you moan.

"So needy for me already." He cooed, getting on his knees after breaking the kiss.

He pulled down your panties to your knees, which was easy due to your skirt.

"Baby you're so wet." He whimpered as he put one of his fingers near your hole, teasing your pussy.

Soon, after getting in a comfortable position he began eating you out, making you throw your head back and moan.

"Y-Yeah' there" you moaned as he rubbed his tongue around your g-spot.

You could see the amusement on his face as you grabbed a fistful of his silky brown hair.

Once his pace sped up, your eyes rolled back and you cummed on his tongue.

"You're so pretty all fucked out" He hummed as he rolled back up your pants and wiped his face with his sleeve before hugging your waist, still on his knees.

#smut seungmin #seungmin smut #stray kids #seungmin #seungmin fanfic #skz #skz x reader #skz smut #seungmin x reader

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fertilize-my-eggs · 8 months

Text

Virgin incel looking for love 💕

Tomura shigaraki x chubby fem reader noncon smut

A/N: this fanfic is to celebrate 800 followers on tumblr, thank you everyone who supports and loves reading dead dove content y'all are the best!! So this one is a bit long and tomura doesn't speak english in this one so he's talking Japanese while reader speaks english (technically since I don't know how to type Japanese 💀) anyway I hope y'all enjoy this one😉💕 ( this was taking too long so I'm sorry if it's bad and I was super tired asf. ) DNI: minors and antis you have been warned 18+ blog.

Warnings: sex trafficking + smut with no plot + dead dove do not eat!! + noncon + black market + creampie + unsafe sex + dry humping.

You were at a bar drinking your sorrows away as you got dumped by your partner, you sigh softly as you get up.

You could barely walk as you walked out of the building. Your head is spinning and your mind is filled with emotions and thoughts.

You were walking on a cold chilly night as you're heading home.

" Hey sweetie, come here. "You turn your head to see an older woman as she's waving her hand towards you in a dark alleyway.

You didn't think much, it's a sweet old lady after all.

You follow her as you watch her from behind as you continue your clumsy walk. Suddenly you feel someone come up behind you, quickly using a wet rag on your mouth.

You didn't have time to process this as you feel heavy and sleepy as you watch the old woman turn around and give you a devilish smirk.

You're blinking fast and groaning out in pain.

Your head is hurting as you try to rub your head only to realize you're unable to move.

Panic set in as you look down to see chains, you're breathing heavily.

" WHERE AM I?!??? " you scream out as you begin to cry out. A man comes in and speaks to you but it's a different language, you don't understand what he is saying.

You're shaking up as you keep screaming for help, the man has a syringe in his hand as he moves it to your thigh, penetrating your skin.

Your salty tears flow down as you try to move, your eyelids getting heavy by the second soon you're losing consciousness again.

You're waking up again to see you're in a different cage, you were in a very revealing elegant white silky lingerie. Expensive jewelry covered your body nicely showing off your goods.

The position you're in is vulgar, your legs are spread out, your crotch barely covers as you whimper.

You were looking around to see the place look to be a fancy underground hideout.

You watch different people in nicely fit outfits as you hear them speak in a language that you don't understand.

There were other people in cages as well, different ones with their height, body size and ethnicity.

As your eyes move along but stop in their tracks as you're staring back at a man that looks very out of place, his outfit was fully black, the hood over his head.

The light pale blue shaggy hair covers his face but you can see his striking crimson eyes stare back at you in the crowd of people looking at your cage.

You felt a chill running down your spine as you were holding your breath.

The blue haired man smirks at you as you're hoping someone will help you from this situation.

You watch the stranger as he waves another man over as they begin to have a conversation. You watch them and their hand suggestions, judging this you're assuming the man is gonna buy you off.

The man's eyes wided with joy as the hoodie man gave him a stack of cash, nodding in your direction.

You're breathing heavily… no no please no, I don't want this… I don't wanna be here. You need to leave and escape this hell hole.

You're shaking up as the man come to your cage, start to unlock it

He's quickly removed the chain and has you standing up roughly but put new cuffs on your hands.

You were pushed up to your new owner who has the biggest smirk on his face.

It was unsettling having this strange man carass you, you felt him grope your thighs and chest area inappropriately in front of others but no one stopped this behavior or did something to help you out.

The hoodie man dragged you out of the place as you pushed out of the exit and were greeted in the back alley.

He keeps pushing you up against a wall as he begins grinding behind you, you hear his whiny groans as he begins to nip at your earlobe. Hearing his hot breath near you makes you squirm in fear.

" please… stop.. I don't want this. " You whimper at his assault, the man clearly has no clue what you're saying but he can tell you're uncomfortable by this situation.

You turn your head to see him quickly remove his pants but not fully off, his pants are around his knees, your eyes wide as you stare at his cock. You never seen a dick in person the reason why your partner dumped you was because you always make excuses and never went further but in reality you were scared and you were a virgin, that why you didn't take the next step but you gasp out loud as he shoves his hard on between your thick thighs.

He continues his assault as he roughly thrust his hips fast and harder from behind. You sob softly as you try to remove the cuffs but it's no use. Where are the damn keys you thought, you could try to look for his pocket but it would be way too obvious and you don't know if he has a quirk or not.

You hear him make a high pitched squeak as you look down to see his red tip between your thighs and his thick semen sliding down so lewdly.

He sighs heavily as he begins to remove himself.

You heard him say something but it's still difficult to understand. You turn your head to see his face reveal, you shouldn't have looked back.

He looks a lot scarier without his blue hair covering his face, he was flustered and his breathing calmed down but he started to pull his pants up.

He grabbed your wrist again as you're seeing a dark misty portal in front of you, you keep struggling and move away but he was a lot stronger than you.

You whine out by his strong grip as you are pushed again into the strange portal.

Blink the tears away as you were greeted by a whole different environment, it looks to be someone's room.

It looks a bit childish since you see some action figures and a desk that has two big moderators. But you don't have time to look at it more.

He puts his fingertips on your cuff as you watch it slowly decay in the process.

You begin to cry more, you should keep on walking and mind your own business… stupid old lady.

His finger started to trace your hand all the way to your breast, you bite your lips from the moans, you didn't realize your chest was so sensitive. He begins to pitch at your nipples, you watch the deadly hands play with it roughly like he was making dough.

His other fingers were away; only his pointer and thumb caressed your perky areolas. you felt his drool land on your shoulder as you felt a shiver run down your spine. He starts pushing you more on the desk.

He removes his hand away, you turn to watch him decay both yours and his own clothes.

He leaned in to whisper." Tomura.. " you think that was his name, so you repeat the same word as he groans out, grinding his manhood from your behind.

" shigaraki.." he continues to bite your ear softly as you repeat the words back, he nods his head as he begins to cuddle with you.

You feel strange, you never understand him nor his language but you had to guess it.

You say your name to him why maybe he will understand what you are saying.

He started to purr at you and said your name back in his language.

It's going to be hard to communicate. You felt his hand on your neck as he grabbed his thick cock to your entrance as he began to tease you.

You grip the edge of the desk as he pushes inch by inch inside of you.

You whimper out, feeling your hymen break once he shoves more of his cock inside.

The feeling was uncomfortable, the stretch felt overwhelming as you keep struggling with his size.

" please stop… i-it hurts.." you tried to push his hips away but tomura quickly grabs both of your hands as he puts it behind your back.

He ignores your pleas as he starts off slow and shallow deep thrust as he starts to bite your shoulder area to stop the cries but it's getting possible.

Tomura let out the most pathetic whines and whimpers, you never thought you would hear a man make those types of noises.

The heavy balls slapping your outer lips as he begins to get faster and harder.

It's hard to get comfortable when this man is lying on top of you, you can't breathe.

Your eyes rolled back to the heavens as you began to drool onto the desk, you can already feel yourself dripping down your thighs.

The slapping increases, getting more volume, you start to notice that you're reaching your high. You don't want this to stop but your mind is screaming at you to escape… you on other hand don't mind getting dick down by this strange man.

Your brain couldn't think straight as you start to chant his name, turning to mush by his powerful thrust, he starts to play with your hair and whisper other things that you still don't understand.

You hear him chant your name as you hear the familiar squeak from him, the throbbing cock inside of you, begins to release thick white cum covering your walls.

You cry out his name, squirting in the process. Milking him for his worth and you start to feel shame all over, you know that this man didn't wear protection, making it a high risk of getting pregnant.

You didn't want this and hoping you don't get pregnant too soon. Shigaraki kisses your neck as he begins to remove you from the desk and towards the small dirty bed.

You were pushed again as you start to realize he didn't pull out of you, his cock is still inside.

You cry out as he pushes your back down, he roughly grabs hold of your hips. You hear the loud skin slapping skin echo in the room as tomura growls and acts like an animal.. Feral animalistic instincts cloud his mind as he thrusts your abuse hole, you feel his tip hitting your cervix.

The fingertips dance on the skin of your thighs to your belly, he begins to caress it lovely. His hand gripping your chubby waist as he dragged you towards his heavy thrust.

You can't tell how many times you orgasm but you started to babbling and mewling at this.

The sheets are already ruined and you feel the wetness sliding down your thighs, you throw your body backwards meeting his hips. Tomura grabbed your hair putting you into a lewd arch position, the tears sliding down your cheek from the overstimulation.

He leans in to lick the tears away as he growls out.

His thrust becomes more sloppy and you can tell he reached his end but his pace wasn't slowing down any time sooner.

You start to see blackness around your eyes as you start to lose consciousness as you try to blink again to keep awake.

He finally slammed into you one more time to shoot more of his own semen into your walls.

You collapse breathing heavily as he keeps grinding his narrow hips on top of you, he lay down but didn't remove himself.

You can feel his arms wrapped around your waist as he pulls you close, you feel his cock soft a bit but it still didn't slide out of you, you sigh softly.

The throbbing feeling begins to hurt and sore between your legs.

Your heavy eyelid falls close as you start to feel sleepy and take hold of you.

Hearing soft snoring and humming relaxes you a bit but you're not escaping anytime soon when he's madly in love with you and wants you to have his first child and life together.

#tw rape #tw noncon #shigaraki tomura #x reader #smut #chubby reader #bnha #minors dni #mha #anime #shigaraki x reader smut #shigaraki x reader #bnha shigaraki #dead dove #dead dove fanfics

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emjiroki · 1 year

Text

Bowling Alley Owner! Satoru Gojo x New Employee! Reader

wordcount: 4.2k

Warnings: Coercion, workplace harassment, creampie, exhibitionism, suggestive jokes, me attempting to be funny , reader being a little slutty but we love it

link to song playing in beginning

A/N: Hi everybody! my entry to the slimeball collab is finally here! I had maybe too much fun with this one honestly, Gojo is just so fun to write for. Hope everyone enjoys and gets a laugh or two ♡ Likes, Comments, and Reblogs are always appreciated (and treasured like gold) @bastardblvd

Please go enjoy all of the amazing works on the collabs masterlist》 Slimeball Masterlist

The animated neon signs glowed brightly against the wet pavement and the ‘Help Wanted’ flier in your hand. Having to move to this hell hole of a town was bad enough but trying to find a job in it was worse, at this point this shitty Bowling Alley seemed to be the best option. You pushed the door open to the smell of shoe polish, floor cleaner, and stale pizza; 'Cold as Ice' by Foreigner playing from the overhead speakers. These facts alone made you want to turn and make your way out, maybe try and get a job at the convenience store down the street.

“Wait! Hold on a minute! Don’t go anywhere” a voice called out to you from behind the shoe counter a few paces from the door as the electric chime of the door rang out. There was a crash of something being knocked over and then the door to the back office opened. A tall man with a shock of white hair, round black sunglasses, and a red “Grab your balls, we’re goin' Bowling” t-shirt stepped out. Yeah, you were leaving.

“You here for a game or two? We close the lanes at midnight, but the beer tap is open until three” He commented, nodding down to your feet before turning to the shoe rack behind him, “What size are those grippers?”.

“Uh, actually some guy was tossing these fliers out of his mail truck this morning and I was hoping to get an application,” You said, ignoring his question and handing him the paper when he held his hand out. He glanced at it with a smirk.

“Good! Suguru’s been giving them out, kinda wanted him to tape them in the laundry mat or something but littering is just as good” He muttered almost dejectedly, before tipping his dark glasses down, his blue eyes so bright you thought they might be contacts, “the names Gojo by the way, Satoru Gojo” He stuck a big hand out across the counter and shook yours delicately. You tell him your name when he expects a reply with an arched brow.

“So do I just come and grab my application from the manager tomorrow or something?” You asked, slightly looking atop the shoe rack to see if could see any and then next to the cash register. None in sight.

“What size shirt do you wear?” Gojo asked leaning into the back office and rifling through a cardboard box. You told him with a questioning tone before being startled by a bright red t-shirt flying at your face. The very obvious grimace at the near-obscene work shirt had the white-haired man busting into a laugh, wiping a fake tear from under his eye.

“That never gets old” He snorted, smoothing his hair back, “I’ll give you a quick tour of the place tomorrow, your shift starts at five”.

“Wait so you’re-”

“The manager? Yeah. and the owner” He replied, wiping a rag against the already shining counter, “Paid the homeless guy that was holed up in here a bag of burgers for the place, never even had to go to city hall”. You were about to question the legitimacy of his business but decided maybe you didn’t want to know. You needed a job and as long as you were getting paid you didn’t care. And well if you admitted it, the boss was pretty easy on the eyes.

4:56 pm

You might have been less than enthused to wear the “Company” t-shirt but starting a new job always gave you a small bit of excitement, or apprehension, you weren’t really sure in this case. The door had barely shut behind you before you could hear Gojo shouting.

“You know you’re not allowed in here anymore!”

“Awe come on Satoru, the bar and the liquor joint both kicked me out cause of my tabs, just one beer” whoever it was tried to reason.

“No! Last time I let you in here you sucked on all the nozzles and gave my customers HPV, Get out!”. Your boss and a heavily muscled dark-haired man came from around the corner from where you assumed the bar was, Gojo whipping him with a cleaning rag in precise snaps against the man’s face and arms as he tried to shield himself. You stepped out of the way as he was herded towards the door, braising his thick arms against the doorframe to keep from being shoved out. The man noticed you standing just off to the side, a lecherous smirk forming on his scarred lips despite the onslaught as he gave you a once over with his vibrant green eyes.

“Pretty little employee Satoru should let me break her in for you” He grinned, catching the rag across the mouth.

“Ijichi! Get the broom!” Gojo called, a spindly man with glasses hurrying from the backroom with a wooden janitor's broom clutched in his fists. The dark-haired man was clobbered twice over the head with the thick bristled end before escaping out the door with an “Ow Fuck!”; Gojo slammed the door and locked it behind him.

"First tip I'll give you sweet cheeks," Satoru said, turning his attention back to you still standing by the counter, "Don't let him in, he'll huff the shoe polish and get you pregnant". You nodded, not knowing really what to say to that bit of information.

“Aren’t you going to unlock the doors so customers can come in?” You asked as he stepped away, pushing his hair back and adjusting his black glasses.

“Toji likes to lurk around and hunt for pizza scraps in the dumpster so Ijichi will handle it once he’s gone,” He said, standing nearly toe to toe with you as your heart leaped to your throat. The way he filled out the tight red t-shirt and his dark jeans had your mouth going dry as he leaned down to get even closer to you, did he look this good yesterday?

“Besides,” He said, his breath warm against your cheek and smelling like those pink strawberry gumballs, “gotta show you around and loosen you up a bit before I unleash you to the customers right?”.

“R-Right, guess that makes sense” You stammered, did he just say what you think he did? He straightened himself to his full height before throwing his arm around your shoulders with a grin, practically dragging you around the corner down the short steps toward the lanes. The alley wasn't big. Six bowling lanes, a small arcade with a couple of out-of-order signs, a bar with run-down stools, and a pizza oven barely big enough to fit two pies. Nothing too big or flashy but just enough to be kinda fun, if you’re drunk enough.

“Lane two has a bump in it from a burst water pipe if you get complaints just tell them we’ve got a contractor coming and give them a coupon” Gojo explained, long arm still draped around your shoulder as he directed you around manually, your feet stumbling a little here and there.

“When will the contractor be here?” You asked, knowing the answer before he even said it.

“When this town decides to get one I guess,” He shrugged with a smirk, “Oh, and all the coupons are expired but that’s for Ijichi to handle so don’t worry about it”. Maybe some questions are better left unanswered.

“Now with Lane Five, the balls get stuck in the return shoot, especially the heavy ones. Sometimes you’ll have to stick your hand in to pull them out”. You bit the inside of your cheek to keep from giggling. Gojo stood at the control panel and set a one-round practice game, grabbing a sixteen-pound ball from the rack behind him and playfully balancing it on one finger with a grin before slotting his fingers in the holes.

“You any good at the game?” He asked curiously, his pretty blue eyes making your tongue go dry as peeked over the edge of his dark glasses. You shook your head, never really being that great at any kind of sports games in general.

“Well I am, but then again I’m pretty much good at everything” He boasted with a smile.

“Not very good at being humble” You retorted, receiving a snort from the tall man in return.

“Give me some time sweetheart,” He said with a wink, lining up his shot when the pins set themselves, “I’ll show you everything I’m good at”. He took two steps to the lane and let it fly, the orange ball turned basically to a blur and crashed into the pins in a perfect strike. The ball return made a soft grinding whirring sound as it struggled, the machine finally stopping with an error message flashing on the screen and the orange ball snugged just at the entrance of the machine.

“See? Now it's just the suction behind it because the machine’s a little older so all you have to do” He started, pressing the red cancel button on the side of the return shoot to stop the mechanisms, “Shut the machine down and slide your hand around to find the holes and pry it out”. You stepped up to the machine, sliding your hand around searching for the finger holes.

“I can’t quite get it,” You said in frustration when you were barely able to squeeze your fingers around. The words had barely left your mouth before Gojo was behind you, his sculpted arms going around you, one hand going down to your hip and the other snaking down the length of your arm and into the machine.

“Just feel for the holes,” He said so close to your ear that you couldn’t help the shiver racing down your spine. You could practically feel the smirk forming on his lips as he leaned in, his face almost to your throat as he pressed himself against your back, “Pull a little”. You tugged on the ball but it seemed stuck more than you thought. You felt Gojo’s long fingers graze yours, gently grasping your hand and guiding it forward, the tips of your fingers finally touching the hole edges.

“Good, pull harder” The feeling of his warm palm over the back of your hand had your heart thumping, his fingers squeezing yours in encouragement making your breath hitch.

“Harder”. Did he mean for his voice to sound so silky? like you were doing something far lewder than simply removing a bowling ball from a machine. You could feel the ball turning, easing out of the opening just as the edge of your hips met the machine and you could feel his hardening length press against the curve of your ass. This might have been a bit inappropriate, he was your boss after all and you had only just started working here, but you just couldn’t find it in yourself to care. If he wanted to play this little game then you could too and you’d enjoy it every step of the way, besides, it was hard to deny a man so handsome especially when he was not so keen on hiding his interest in the first place. The soft gasp that escaped him as you arched and pressed yourself back against him had a sly smile breaking across your lips, his hand on your hip gripping just a little tighter. At that moment you tugged just a bit harder and the ball came free, weighing your arm down for a second before Gojo took it from you.

“Knew you could do it, not too hard right?” He asked, moving off your back to set the ball back on the rack.

"Sure, I appreciate you showing me how though," You said, batting your eyelashes to inflate his ego just a bit more. You thought his head was going to swell like a balloon with the wide grin that broke across his lips, his big hand softly pressing against the small of your back.

"Anytime sweetness, now I'm assuming you've got experience with a cash register?" You confirmed that you did, having a few years of retail experience before moving here. Gojo ushered you back the way you had come, the hand on your back guiding you behind the counter you had first met him at and stopping you just before getting to the door you assumed led to his office.

"Now before we get into the nitty-gritty of all your paperwork, we should probably get your employee physical done first” He mentioned, a smirk that rivaled Toji’s from earlier sending warmth through your belly.

“Employee physical? Like a drug test and stuff?” You asked, stammering only as he slightly crowded you back, caging you in with his long arms and placing his hands on the counter.

“No no nothing like that, I couldn’t care less about that,” He chuckled, trailing one of his hands up your arm as if testing the waters before his fingers brushed your jaw, “just wanna see how perfect you are, is that so bad?”. Was this really happening right now? You had never pictured your first day of any job ever going like this. This was like some bad porn scenario, but could you really complain? Not really. He took your silence and burning cheeks as a no.

“Sit that pretty ass up on the counter for me would you?”. You jumped up without having to be asked twice, your stomach twisting with aggressive butterflies as he walked his fingers of one hand up your thigh while the other gripped your knee, your heart in your throat as one long finger traced the waistband of your leggings. You released the shaky breath you hadn’t realized you had been holding, his bright blue eyes glancing up at you over his dark glasses and freezing you in place.

“Nervous?” He asked, slotting himself between your legs and leaning in, his height almost intimidating despite how you squared your shoulders.

“No,” You said breathily with a shake of your head, shivering as he skimmed his nose along your jawline, his skin soft against yours as he inched closer to your waiting lips. Maybe it should have been embarrassing how your panties were already wet. Still, the soft groan that rolled off his tongue when his fingers made contact with the dampness of the material had all thoughts of shame melting away, only to be replaced with the arousal beginning to boil in your abdomen as he pressed against your clit and began turning teasing circles. Your hips bucked up against his fingers, your breaths coming out in heavy pants as you fought any sounds from spilling out through your teeth clamping your bottom lip.

“Come on now, don’t hide anything from me,” Gojo chided, the thumb of his left hand moving to cup your jaw and pry your reddening lip from your teeth, “I’m your boss now, wanna know everything about you. What you sound like, what you taste like, the spots that make you shake and shiver”. He was pulling your panties down now too, your wet pussy on full display for him as your cheeks burned. Gojo slid his index finger down from your throbbing clit to where it was wet and warm, positioning to slide in when you grabbed his wrist to stop him.

“W-Wait what if a customer comes in or-” You stammered, getting cut off by his lips pressing to yours, a wanton moan spilling out against his tongue as he pressed in any way, sliding in until the pad of his long finger was nudging against the tingling soft spot inside of you.

“So what? Their money’s not good enough to pass up on this pretty pussy, probably stolen anyway” He mumbled against your lips, barely pulling away long enough to even get the words out before he back pressing against you, your tongue rolling hotly against his bottom lip as your walls clench tight around his finger and dragging another soft groan from him.

“But what about the other employee?” You asked as you tugged his white hair to pull him away and catch your breath. A devious grin broke across his pretty lips.

“Ijichi! Come here!”. Your eyes widened, your legs clamping around his arm as you tried to move away in time.

“Yes, Gojo?” the dark-haired man addressed as he left the back room with a can of roach repellent and a bandana in hand, his expression neutral and unchanging when he saw you spread on the counter, cheeks red and pants nearly around your ankles.

“You don’t care if we do this here right?” Gojo asked in full confidence, casually sliding a second finger in beside the first to stretch you out and pull a lustful moan from you despite your resistance. Besides the man’s neck growing a bit pink he looked completely unphased, never breaking eye contact with your boss as he shrugged.

“No, as long as I don’t have to clean that counter afterward”. Gojo snorted, retracting his fingers and fixing you with a pleased, almost mischievous look as he popped his fingers in his mouth and groaned.

“Guess that means we’ll finish this little introduction in my office then”. He was too damn good-looking, too handsome for his own good and he knew it. Gojo scooped you up in his arms, fixing your legs around his waist the best he could, and practically kicked the door open, your eyes shut tight so you didn’t have to look at Ijichi and let him see the shame on your face. Your boss's desk was cold against your ass he set you down, pulling your pants the rest of the way off and throwing them over his shoulder onto the floor. You leaned forward and rucked his shirt up to his navel, marveling at the chiseled abs you knew had been concealed not so conspicuously. You felt him shudder under your fingertips as you pressed your soft lips just above the waistband of his dark jeans, lashes fluttering as you looked up into his low-lidded eyes.

“Getting handsy are we?” He huffed as he stripped his shirt and you worked his zipper and button down, shimming the denim until it was down below his knees with his boxer briefs on display.

“I can’t be the only one getting undressed here, Mr.Gojo,” You said coyly, running your hand across the prominent bulge. A strained moan dragged from his chest, his hands going to your under thighs to lift and press you back against the wood of his desk.

“As much as that title makes my dick hard, I think we’re long past formalities,” He said, kissing a trail down your throat to your collarbone, “Call me Satoru, please”. You gasped at the feeling of his hand gliding up your shirt to your bare chest, fingers tweaking and delicately pulling at the pebbled nipple. You could feel the smirk against your skin though he made me comment on your lack of a bra, who was he to judge anyway? Satoru groaned when your hands traveled down to pull at his underwear, his own hands assisting you until you could feel the heat of his throbbing cock against your lower belly. You attempted to lean up and push him away, your mouth watering at the thought of him stuffing into the back of your throat but he stopped you with a chuckle, laughing a little more when you gave him a heated questions look.

“Trust me, you can have me in your mouth all you want later but right now” He trailed off, fingers moving back down to your heat for a moment to play with your puffy clit and making you arch against his touch, “ I wanna feel you, all of you. Think you can handle it?”. You nodded eagerly, your cheeks burning hot as flames as you looked down to the length throbbing against your abdomen. He was bigger than probably any guy had been with, the head flushed a pretty dark pink and leaking against your skin. It seemed to surprise him when you leaned up to lock lips again, your tongue almost immediately invading his mouth as your hands clenched into his white hair to pull him closer as your hips bucked up against his to rub your wetness along the underside of his cock. You both gasped against the other's lips when the head caught at your entrance. He nibbled his pearly whites against your kiss-swollen bottom lip as he eased his hand down between your bodies, slotting your legs against his shoulders. You cried out as he filled out abruptly, the stretching burning for a moment as you dragged your nails against his shoulders. There was a slight bulge in your tummy from how far he reached, barely able to even catch your breath before he was pulling almost all the way out before thrusting back in.

“Satoru!” You nearly screamed, your eyes crossing as you slammed your eyes shut, your brain feeling like it was going to melt against the onslaught of his hips rolling against yours and battering that sweet spot deep inside.

“What is Angel? Too much for your pretty little pussy?” He teased, despite the sensual blush dusting his nose as he leaned back to get a good look at your breasts bouncing and your hands clawing the desk at your sides without him to cling to, “Am I gonna break it?”. You shook your head, moving your legs from his shoulders and wrapping them around his waist to pull him closer, deeper, surprising him yet again.

“N-No, more, please” You pleaded, moaning when you felt him twitch inside of you.

“Goddamn, I think you might actually be perfect” He groaned, digging his fingers into your hips as he pulled out only to flip you over onto your stomach, kissing across your shoulders and lacing his fingers with yours as he stretched you across the top of his desk, immediately bottoming out again and moaning lewdly into your ear as goosebumps raced up your spine. You could feel your climax throbbing in your belly as he fucked into your ruthlessly, his desk scraping loudly against the floor, but you couldn’t find it in you to be embarrassed when your mind was filled with cotton pleasure. You were so wet you could feel it splashing up against his abdomen with every thrust; animalistic grunts, and groans pouring from his throat as he ravaged your back in kisses and bites.

“F-Fuck” You stammered past a broken moan as you clenched around his thick cock, stars bursting behind your lids as your orgasm nearly turned your legs to jelly. Satoru was shaking as you gripped him like a vice, nearly toppling him over the edge before he threaded his long fingers through your hair and pulled your head back.

“Kick that leg up and lean back baby” He panted, hands encouraging you into the position he wanted as he sucked a bruise up against your throat. He was buried to the hilt again as soon as you had your leg where he wanted and god did it feel deeper than before, your next orgasm beginning to spark on the aftershocks of the previous one as he fucked up into your warmth almost frantically.

“This pussy’s so good, so fucking good oh my god” Satoru moaned, a trickle of his drool running down the length of your throat as he mouthed the skin. He was impossibly hard inside of you, cock kicking against your inner walls so hard it was spurring you on to your mind-numbing ending.

“Yes, please fuck me till you cum Satoru, want you to fill me up” You begged, feeling as if you would turn to ash if he pulled away right now, your orgasm growing closer and closer.

“Cum with me, please gorgeous” He pleaded back, turning your head to lock lips once more as he practically locked himself against you to keep buried in your slick heat. You both cried out wantonly into each other's mouths, drool and heat spilling against your tongues and his cum pumping deep into your clenching body in thick spurts. It felt like you were melting, falling apart in the best of ways and your knees could barely hold you up as he eased down from your position to lay chest down against his desk once more, your sweat-slick bodies pressing together and basking in the thick atmosphere of the office for a few minutes. Satoru had just moved off you and was gathering your clothes when a heavy, deliberate knock came on the door.

“Yeah?” the white-haired man called out, about to go and open the door before you hissed at him and shook your head.

“Gojo, one of the customers got bit by a rat,” Ijichi said back.

“Did you kill it?” Satoru asked.

“The customer or the rat?”. Satoru sighed, shrugging his shirt back on and opening the door slightly, just enough to not show you but very much showcase he had no pants or underwear on.

“Now which do you think? Just smash the rat with a bowling pin or something and give the customer a free beer- actually”. Satoru turned to you, a beaming smile on his lips and making you slightly worried.

“Get your pants on sweet cheeks, this is a perfect opportunity for a first day training exercise".

#slimeball! gojo #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo satoru smut #tw exhibitionism #jjk smut #em writes ✍

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ataraxiaspainting · 5 months

Text

Sweet Hibiscus Tea.

Yan Shalnark x F Reader.

Synopsis: After a day of finally trying to face your social anxiety, you walk home alone. The roads are empty, quiet, and eerie. But you are almost home now, aren’t you? You are not going to cry anymore. Just when you think life is starting to turn around for you, it goes in the exact opposite direction.

Warnings: Yandere themes, violence, kidnapping, misogyny, not SFW implications, psychological horror elements, manipulation, panic attacks, Shalnark being an asshole, unhealthy relationships, and stalking.

Word Count: 5k.

Can be considered to be within the Hier Encore universe.

Ten Songs Like This Piece:

Look Who’s Inside Again by Bo Burnham

Things She Said by Chris Garneau

Baby Bride Rag by Roar

Butch 4 Butch by Rio Romeo

Appetite of a People-Pleaser by Ghost and Pals

Valentine, Texas by Mitski

I’m Yer Dad by GRLwood

Cry Baby by Melanie Martinez

Freaks by Surf Curse

Neighbour by Mother Mother

“You stay soft, you get beaten; only natural to harden up.” — Mitski, Stay Soft

*~*~*~*

Regardless of how much time has passed, this convenience store always remains the same.

There is always the familiar, tired face of the clerk behind the cash register, her gaze never on you or any other customer who walks in and out of the doors, a simple, muted hello being the only proof that she noticed you.

The lights dim and blink without fail, fading from white to a shade of daffodil to dark flaxen before disappearing and resurfacing yet again as alabaster. No matter how black the night sky is, the less-than-bright illumination never changes.

Neither does the rest of the scenery.

Next to the payment area are two vending machines, with one not functioning. It is dead, with the glass broken by a punch that left a large gaping hole in the dead center. Once when you accidentally touched the front wall while bending down to get your can of lemonade from the working one, it left a sticky residue that had you rubbing your palm on your sweater for what felt like an eternity. It somewhat helped, you guessed, but it also stained your clothes. The vending machine to its right was always out of most sweet drinks, often leaving you with the choice of coffee, lemonade, green tea, or water.

You don’t buy any snacks aside from strawberry Pocky and, if you are lucky, a chocolate bar.

But you do buy meals here because it is cheap. Usually fish with miso or a salad, but there have been times when you can find a premade sandwich.

The total cost comes to between 500 to 1000 Jenny. There is always a poster that claims the cashier is the employee of the month, though you are certain that she is the only one who works there.

The only thing that ever changes is the calendar behind her. The past dates are crossed out in red ink that is in the form of thick, scraggly lines. They remind you of the drawings you used to make as a child when your father was too busy screaming outside your door and your mother was too powerless to do anything but cry and yelp as he hit her. One time you drew them fighting, and when one of your maids saw it, it inevitably found its way to his desk.

Needless to say, he was not happy by any means.

*~*~*~*

The calendar behind the worker reads the 17th of April, 1998. On this day in 1985, your first and only ever friend, the head gardener’s apprentice, went missing. When you eventually gathered up the courage after waiting for hours outside, you went to your father’s room to ask where she was.

“She has been removed from the premises for distracting you instead of doing her job.” The answer you got was to the point, because when has he ever been warm to you? “I made sure that she had learned her lesson before she died. She was in pain the whole time. It was a shame to put a bullet between her pretty eyes. But at least she had a bit more use to me beforehand.”

You cried and cried until you threw up.

That is when your mother, the usual bandage over her left cheek this time, came in and sat on your bed gently, sadly.

She patted the area next to her and slowly you stood up from the floor where you kneeled as you sobbed and went over. She asked you if you wanted a hug and you said no. She responded with a simple nod, respecting your answer. But then what she said next turned your tear-stricken face into a glare.

“She’s alive.” She muttered, along with thanks to God and a hold of the cross on her neck.

“...What?”

Your mother shushed you when she heard footsteps coming to the door. When the sound eventually leaves further into the hallway, she leans into your ear while pointing to your vanity. Your gaze leads you to the dusty cat statue made of garnet.

It got shattered a little while ago when a maid cleaning your room accidentally made it fall to the floor. You felt bad for her as she was a new hire, so you never told anyone aside from your mother. You knew that if your father, the head of this household, ever found out he would punish her severely, even when he did not care for the statue at all. You got to choose, if you were lucky, which part gets whipped or cut off.

“Yes.”

Her short answer leaves you almost jumping up out of your seat. “...Huh?”

“At last week’s banquet, she caught the attention of your father’s wealthiest business partner.” She turns to the curtains covering the lone window in your room, her back now facing you. “She was tricked into boarding a car when the driver claimed you were inside waiting for her. To the partner in question, she is nothing but another pretty face to add to his collection.”

At the slight turn of the doorknob next door, you two go as still as wax people in a museum. “Why did he lie to me?”

“Why? Well, he certainly did not want you rebelling against his decision.”

“But I have never rebelled against him before.”

“I know.” Your mother lets out a sharp laugh, salty and sour. “I know you are always trying to be good, trying to stay under the radar. I know, I know because you are a lot like me. but now I am going to teach you a lesson about your father and the world at large. Remember that a man’s resentful attitude will always result in a woman’s agony, physical or otherwise, always. However, when things go right for a man, a woman is either praised like a dog or ignored until something goes wrong because it is never enough.”

You can’t breathe. “But why? Why, why, why? What did I do wrong? What could I have done right?”

She shakes her head. “Nothing. There is nothing you can do or could have done. No matter what, your faults will always be found. That is how most men are raised, to find, and how most women are raised, to hide.”

“...”

“Men’s hearts are such cruel, small things. Oftentimes they can only fit themselves in them, but there have been times where even they cannot fit.” She is still holding onto the cross charm on her gold necklace, firmer than she has ever held you. “They are cold, are or are almost dead. There is no room for people like you and me. No room at all. All they see us as is something to own, something with no feelings whatsoever, and whose only purpose is to please no matter the cost. Such pigs, all of them.” She murmurs some prayers that you cannot hear. “I want you to be better. I want what is best for you, what I never have been able to accomplish; run and live.”

She opens the drawer beside your bed, and you don’t do anything to stop her. It is not like you can hide anything, from her or anyone else in this house. Whatever is buried eventually resurfaces. She pulls out your rarely used bible, a thick layer of dust on the leather cover. It smells and makes you cough. She doesn’t though.

“At least your father does not force you to read this day and night.”

“Mmhmm.”

“It is one of the few things I appreciate him not doing, I do not want you to grow up hating the church.”

“I know.”

“He has made you hate a lot of things already.”

She turns the pages, dust flying around the cold air.

“He made me hate a lot of things too. Blankets, steaks, cameras. The color white, the color black, the color red. The sounds of belts unbuckling, the sound of laughter, the sounds of doors opening and closing and locking.”

You don’t say anything, only looking at her hands. Only in the dark can you not see her scars, her blooming wrinkles, and the bruises that are always fresh.

You don’t say anything, because you have learned from a very young age that you are her only listening ear. You are the only one who keeps her head on her shoulders. You don’t say anything, because she is right. He has made you hate plenty of things. But, but, but. But you can’t hate him, and you can’t hate your mother.

You can’t hate her, because who knows what she would do when she finds out that no one cares about her pain in this hell?

“Mother.” You mutter, putting your head on her shoulder as you scan the text on the page that she selected. She does not stop you.

“Yes, [First]?”

“Do you hate me?” You ask, trying so very hard to not let her see the tears that threaten to come out of your eyes. “Because… because… if I wasn’t conceived, you wouldn’t be here hurting, would you?”

You could swear that you heard her heart skip a beat.

“...I would not be here, yes.”

She is honest, for once. You know at least some of this situation is all your fault.

“Do you hate me?”

“...”

“Mother, please answer me.”

You hear a sniffle as she starts mumbling the words written. “‘A gracious woman gets honor, and violent men get riches.’”

You choose not to press on the subject. You don’t want her to suffer anymore.

*~*~*~*

You buy an orange-flavored Ramune soda, a pack of pork ginger instant ramen, and strawberry Pocky.

The total would come to about 600 Jenny if your quick calculations are right. You could get something extra, like a topping for your ramen or some chips. But would it be wise? You have never been someone who finishes their plate after you had ran away, so what if you just waste your money?

So, you decide not to get anything else.

You walk to the cash register.

You hear an explosion from the back of the building. Small sparks of white and orange. The lights go off before you can place your chosen items down, and you can hear the employee cursing under her breath. The breaker. What happened?

“Damn it, I don’t get paid enough for this shit.” She grumbles, putting her thumb and pointer finger on the bridge of her nose, rubbing. “No raises whatsoever. Only one here. Without me, this place wouldn’t be working, ungrateful pricks.”

Fighting the way your heart rate shoots up, you decide that talking to her would be best. It wouldn’t hurt to talk to someone aside from your boss, right?

Maybe your anxieties would quell, and you can eventually graduate to talking to your co-workers, that would be a dream come true for you.

You haven’t had a friend, a real friend, ever since Rose was taken from you all those years ago. You still cry whenever you think about her. You miss her. Is she dead, is she alive?

You still blame yourself. If only you hadn’t talked to her, maybe she would still be with you. What kind of adult would she have been? A kind one, a responsible one? You would still be friends at least, wouldn’t you? Or would she grow to hate you, if she didn’t already?

You keep telling yourself that she wouldn’t and didn’t, but that is not what your mind tells you.

Is she dead?

You could picture a rotting corpse six feet under. An unmarked grave. Glassy, dead, amber eyes looking upward to anyone who looks down, helpless, pleading. You always liked them, always complimenting them much to Rose’s shy chuckles. She was so pretty, that much was true. You could only imagine how beautiful she would have been as an adult.

Her looks were a personal gift from God, the heavens, and the angels.

But if she didn’t have them, would she not have been treated like she was in the estate?

“Erm, excuse me,” You mutter, taking a few steps forward. “If you want I can go check it out.”

It is what Rose would do. She always liked helping others. You just wish that people would have appreciated it more and seen past her appearance. It was a double-edged sword. It helped her become the head gardener’s apprentice but also caught the attention of both your father and his business partners. You felt bad for her, and still do.

The employee turns around, her confusion prominent despite the dark.

“Erm,” You mutter, looking down at your hands and entangling your fingers in one another. You could feel the heat rushing to your cheeks in embarrassment. “Is that okay?”

It takes a few moments to respond. Her surprise was unexpected, as you never spoke to her outside of asking her if she had change or telling her you hoped that she had a good night. Rose would be better at this kind of thing. You once had a dream that at a fast food joint, an adult her would order for you and correct the staff when they put pickles on your burger. It’s what could have been, funny moments like that. She had always been the one to take charge, you following her like a lost puppy.

You miss her so much.

So much.

The worker slowly nods. “...Okay.”

“...It’s in the back, right? The breaker.”

This is so awkward. Rose would be better. You wish she was here. Or your mother. Anyone.

“...Uh. Um… I like your eyeliner.” As soon as you say that, you curse at yourself, not wanting to sound like a creep. The woman’s confusion becomes even more prominent.

“...Thanks, and yeah, it’s in the back.”

“...Okay.” Jesus Christ. You turn away from her, the heat on your cheeks hot enough to be mistaken for a fever. This is not what Rose would have done.

“...You can leave your stuff here.” She says, and you quickly spin your heel and put your items on the counter. “It’s not like they are going to grow legs and run off, so relax.”

“...” You both chuckle, and you feel slightly better. “...Thanks. I’ll go now.”

“...” You start walking. “Wrong way.”

You stop.

It takes you a few seconds for you to move back to first base and go off in the opposite direction. As soon as you open the creaky steel door, strong rain and cold wind greet you, along with a loud clap of thunder and lightning.

Perhaps you could go back and get your umbrella from the stand by the door. But that would be even more awkward.

“Stupid. Stupid.”

“If we are lucky, the wind simply detached it or something. Not the best at this sort of thing, though.”

“I don’t think breakers detach.” You could picture her shrugging and scoffing at your murmur. “Sorry. Sorry. Just… sorry. I’m the best at this sort of thing either.”

You close the door behind you and start looking amongst the pitter-patter of the raindrops and gusts that nearly make you fall over.

Stupid. Why do you make everything so weird? Rose would have been so much more charismatic. It was one of her strongest traits after all.

Stupid.

It’s hard to see. Trying not to trip over stones and cracked cement, you grip onto the wall and walk forward. Soon, you feel something.

“Ew, ew, ew!” You cry out, quickly moving your hand away from the slimy slug. “Ew!”

“You okay?”

“Uh, nothing. Just a bug. Yeah, just a bug.”

You hear a chuckle. Stupid.

“Sorry!” You exclaim, almost bowing your head. “Sorry! Really!”

Making sure you don’t touch the slug again, you keep moving.

Eventually, you find the breaker. But it wasn’t what you were expecting by any means. The damage almost looks like it was done on purpose, the way it was open and covered in soot. Did something get to it?

The breaker that exploded was a mass of melted metal that had been blown apart from the intense amount of heat and pressure. It was now barely recognizable as a single unit–parts of it scattered across the cement path and others having been fused and becoming something else entirely. The metal had been melted and blown upwards in the sheer force of the explosion, coating parts of the wall, wet grass, and roof with small, solidified droplets of metal. The ground around the remains of the breaker is burnt and scarred with traces of the immense fire that had consumed it.

It seems the rain put it out.

“No hope for this, huh?”

“Hey,” The employee calls out. “How bad is it? If there is nothing you can do, come back inside.”

So, you do.

The way she turns at you is robotic almost. A smile is on her face that was not there before. She nods when she sees you. Something tells you to not approach.

“It exploded into molten metal.”

“Oh well.”

Under the stormy skies, her gaze turns pale. Her eyes, seemingly captivating, lack any hint of vitality, while her lips curve in a disarming and saccharine manner. A shiver runs down your spine as you meet her gaze, every fiber of your being urging you to flee. Deep within your primal instincts, an innate awareness stirs, recognizing the smile as a charade, a mask of humanity that ventures into the realm of unease: akin to an artificial being adorned with synthetic flesh or a wax figure encased in glass. Those lifeless, white eyes, coupled with a forked tongue and an unsettlingly beautiful countenance, leave you with an undeniable sense of mistrust.

“You’re not mad? Really? Um…”

Something is off. What happened? She looks more like an imposter than anything else. But if she is, where did the real cashier go?

“Don’t worry.” She says, her voice oddly chipper and no longer confused by your awkwardness. “It’s fine. I’m quitting anyway, so it’ll be my boss’ problem.”

You turn your head. “Really?”

She nods. Something is off.

“Like really?”

You blink multiple times and you don’t think she does. She just stands there. Slowly, she nods. Something tells you to run yet again.

“Um… um… okay. Okay. I’ll just pay and leave. How much does it come up to?”

She shakes her head.

“Um. I have to pay. It’s thievery if I don’t.” You get closer. “It’s the law.”

“It’s fine.”

“I can’t just not pay.” You say, taking out your wallet from your sweater pocket. “That’s stealing. It’s wrong.”

Every action she takes is measured and precise, and she seems to move like a machine rather than a person. It’s as if she’s been programmed to act and talk in a certain way, and she doesn’t seem to have the ability to break out of that. She simply stares at you, not speaking.

Run.

You undo the metallic button, hearing the shuffling of paper Jenny within your wallet. “Um. Let me pay. Please.”

She simply shakes her head again.

“It’s fine.” The employee says, the smile still plastered on her face. There is quite more than a hint of blankness and detachment in her expression. She speaks in a mechanical and emotionless manner, her words delivered as though repeated from a script of carefully chosen sentences. Her movements are quick and precise, putting your chosen items in a plastic bag. There is no life or energy in her actions, instead, she moves like a mindless machine, performing her tasks before her without showing any personality of her own. Is it better to just accept it?

What should you do? What shouldn’t you do? Is she joking? Should you leave?

What would Rose do?

One of her hands grasps onto the plastic handles and she holds it out before you. There is no authenticity or warmth. Her eyes are blank. What happened? Should you ask? Should you just take the bag without saying anything further?

“Okay,” You murmur, obeying her silent command. “I hope you don’t get into any trouble though.”

*~*~*~*

Boss (9th May 1996 17:45)

Did you find anything?

Boss (9th May 1996 17:45)

Feitan found her heels nearby along with some blood, so she couldn’t have gotten very far.

You (9th May 1996 17:45)

Nothing yet

Boss (9th May 1996 17:47)

Try checking the stores nearby.

Boss (9th May 1996 17:47)

From the blood trail, she is most likely injured from running and trying to fix herself up in some sort of shelter.

Boss (9th May 1996 17:48)

She may have also discarded the rest of her clothes, not just the heels, and is currently wearing something else.

You (9th May 1996 18:15)

I found a dress and jewelry at the bottom of a lake

You (9th May 1996 18:18)

(image sent)

Boss (9th May 1996 18:20)

That’s it.

Boss (9th May 1996 18:20)

Disappointing. I’ll send over Pakunoda to ask people nearby.

You (9th May 1996 18:20)

You (9th May 1996 18:21)

Don’t cry, I’m sure we’ll find her soon :)

Boss (9th May 1996 18:22)

I wasn’t crying.

Boss (9th May 1996 18:22)

I just thought she came around already.

Boss (9th May 1996 18:23)

This will set our heists back weeks.

Boss (9th May 1996 18:24)

She has planned this out for more than a year, it seems.

*~*~*~*

Bum, bum, bum. Dun, dun, dun. Whunnnnnn, wooooooo, ummmmmmm. You can’t hear anything else. The sounds sting your ears like an aggravated hornet.

The darkness around you is solid, more so than the cracked, aged concrete path beneath your shoes. There is a tiny light in the distance; a streetlamp.

Silence.

“...”

“Have a good day!”

“...Thank you.”

Let there be light.

“Um…” You can’t see anything. The sounds… stopped. “...Time to go home.”

But the pain stays.

It feels like a drill.

It hurts.

“...” You feel deaf and blind. No, maybe something even worse. “...”

You turn around, to the dark convenience store, and you see the cashier still staring at you. “Have a good day!”

“...”

“[First]?”

…How does she know your name? Did you say it to her in the past?

When you look into the abyss, the abyss also looks into you.

“[First], dear.” She starts waving as you look at her. “[First]. [First]. [First]. [First]. [First]!”

There is nothing but emptiness. Is your name all she can say? What happened to her? It is like she has regressed. Like a storm cloud in summer, you do not wish for this pain. Now you feel deaf and blind and mute now.

You almost wish that you were dead. All there is is pain. Bum, bum, bum. Dun, dun, dun. Whunnnnnn, wooooooo, ummmmmmm.

Interruption. The sounds returned. Is this good? Is this bad? Does it matter at all?

You walk. You don’t speak. Only walk. You can’t breathe. You can only move. Bum, bum, bum. Dun, dun, dun.

Whunnnnnn, wooooooo, ummmmmmm.

A hand clamps over your mouth.

You drop the plastic bag from shock, and then you finally hear something other than those sounds; glass shattering.

“Sh…” A voice, calm, along with the smell of oranges. “It’s okay.”

“...!”

“Don’t scream.”

The touch of lips, a man’s lips, on your ear, thin and hard.

“Breathe. Just breathe for me, okay?”

But you can’t. The wind goes down your throat. It is suffocating. You can’t breathe. You smell oranges and something rotting, blood.

It stinks. It fucking stinks.

Christ. Get away. That stink. That fucking stink. Your body rejects it by continuing to not breathe.

“Sh… Breathe. Just breathe, for me, for you, for us.”

“...St… Sto-”

“Sh…” The voice is sweet, not at all sour, like candy. “Calm down. Nothing bad is going to happen. Just breathe. You’re going to pass out.” The lips and the scent of his breath are like salted leather in a butcher’s shop, stinky and rotting. “Calm down. Don’t worry.”

“...Sto… Si-”

“Breathe. Sh… It’s okay. Breathe.”

“...Ge… Sti…”

“Sh… Breathe. Breathe, [First]. Breathe. [First]. Breathe. Breathe. It’s okay. Don’t worry about all this. Breathe.”

When you finally do, you gasp, desperate. “...Huff… Huff… Huff…”

Get off of me, I can smell you.

“There we go!”

Your vision clears up a bit. “...Huff… Huff… Huff…”

“Just keep breathing.”

“...Huff…”

You can smell him. You can practically taste him, with his mouth so close to you.

“Whew! That was a close one!” The man exclaimed, wrapping his other arm around your waist.

Pain. Get off of me. I can smell you, I can hear you, I can taste you. Get off of me. Please.

The pain still stays, in your chest and your ears, and your head. Oranges. Blood.

Get off of me.

Please–

A pain in the back of your neck and you go limp.

Darkness. Then pain again. You can’t move. You can only breathe. Bum, bum, bum. Dun, dun, dun. Whunnnnnn, wooooooo, ummmmmmm.

*~*~*~*

SAINTSHORE SPACE THEATRE

UNDER THE DIRECTION OF RANDOLF URASLEF, GRETEL JAMES, AND QUINCEY J. ORATICE

PAUL DONSHEL CELESTE BAKER ANNE CROAKS

AND

THE GREAT COMET THEATRE COMPANY

SWAN LAKE

ADAPTED BY MUSIC WRITTEN BY PYOTR ILLYICH TCHAIKOVSKY

INSPIRED BY THE CHOREOGRAPHY OF JULIUS REISINGER

WITH THE WONDERFUL CAST OF

(IN ORDER OF APPEARANCE)

Odette, the White Swan………………………………………………………….JEAN YVETTE

Odile, the Black Swan……………………………………………………………...JUNO LILOU

Prince Siegfried……………………………………………………………(the name is illegible.)

The rest of the list’s names cannot be read just like Prince Siegfried.

“She is simply beautiful. Just so beautiful. Simply wonderful, perfect.”

As the spotlights ignite, their scorching beams engulf you, causing you to shield your eyes with futile resistance. The sheer force of the light overwhelms your feeble defense. An ethereal audience erupts with exuberant cheers, applause, and whistles, resonating from vacant seats. Champagne flutes collide, men erupt with hearty laughter from their very core, and women unleash piercing screams akin to banshees.

The temperature rises and the noise intensifies, repeatedly, enveloping you in a symphony of overwhelming sensations.

Onlookers casually share their thoughts.

“Get off the stage, we want to see the play, not some stagehand!”

“Boo!”

“Fuck off!”

You run off crying.

“Where is that Odile girl?”

You run into a dressing room. One used by a woman wearing a black dress. She is so pretty. Her long strawberry blonde hair falls off her bare shoulders, clearly just done with a flat iron. There is a burning smell in the air. Smoke. When her gold eyes meet yours, she marches towards you and slams the door shut.

You can almost hear sobbing coming from the other side. Cries.

“So lonely…” The woman mutters. “When will it ever be enough?”

The voice sounds familiar. Her eyes. Her hair.

Nostalgia. Memories you would much rather forget. The basement. The imaginary ripping of clothes and tears and men’s laughter.

“I can’t do this much longer…”

Someone else knocks on her door. You want to scream.

“Come out, dearest.”

The devil. Tall with curved horns and a forked tongue. You want to warn her.

You want to save her. “I’m not going to harm you, I am going to make you happy.”

You are so focused on whether the woman opens the door or not that you do not notice what happens next until it is too late. A clawed hand on your mouth. A tongue licking your ear. Tasting your sweat. Your tears. Laughter. The rest of the world disappears, and the only one there aside from you is the one behind you.

Sh… Sh… Sh… Sh… Bum, bum, bum. Dun, dun, dun. Whunnnnnn, wooooooo, ummmmmmm.

Get off of me. Please.

“Breathe. It makes things more fun for me.” The voice echoed like you two are in a cave.

You gasp for air, and the smell of blood and oranges fills your nostrils.

“...Huff…”

“That’s better.”

You turn around. There is a body of a man.

But the scaled, furred, horrifying face of a demon.

“Good.” He says, smiling his sharp teeth. “Deep breaths, in and out, come on.”

You do what he says. He praises you again, you think. But you can’t hear it. Either that or you simply do not pay attention to it. What happened to the woman?

“...”

“We should go.”

The woman. The devil, this other… thing.

“...Rose…”

The demon laughs.

“Wake up.”

*~*~*~*

The first things you hear come from a happy man’s voice. “My boss’ girlfriend ran away more than a year ago you see, and he’s been heartbroken ever since. I want to prevent that kind of loss from happening to me. Real pretty one, too! He didn’t expect it, but I don’t blame her. After all, she’s been held captive for more than a year, she had to try to escape eventually.”

…The first thing you feel is lace on your neck. A collar.

It does not tickle or hurt. It itches.

A cold hand plays with it, and it almost chokes you. At your discomfort, the man laughs.

“You are so cute.”

Something metal is on the collar, and it blinks a small red light.

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