#like that is actually so humiliating for you omg | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wandasfavreal · 1 month

Text

Shy

Wanda x Fem!Reader

Summary: Your girlfriend’s loving nature just makes you want to do anything that she asks.

Word Count: 4.7k

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Soft!Mommy!WandaxFem!Reader, shy reader obvi, dom/sub, strap on(r receiving), oral to strap, light pet play(bunny ears), humiliation w/ praise, Wanda’s sosososo in love omg

Tag: @flkwh0re

You woke up to the feeling of nails softly clawing your scalp as a familiar and sweet floral scent filled your senses. With your eyes tiredly opening, you saw pale yet warm skin in front of you, littered with small and almost microscopic birthmarks you recognized all too well. Wanda’s bare chest was only millimeters away from your face, and despite the comfortable position, you moved your head a bit away as you wanted to see her face instead of just the sharp curve of her jaw looking upward.

Awake, she felt your movements under the sheets as she had her arms wrapped around your body. Wanda loosened up and allowed you to shift, tilting her head down to take a look at you as she hadn’t the entire time she was lost in thought rather than still sleeping. Straight away, she was met with your sleepy state, dopey eyes and puffy lips. Her nose scrunched up with a smile as she found it so adorable, and every morning she did. “Goodmorning, sweetheart.”

“Goodmorning… how long were you awake?” You questioned with rasp, looking at how pretty she was even just being in bed with tangled hair. You noticed the way her cheek bones were so perfectly structured and suited the rest of her features, wanting to just lean up and kiss every part of her. She of course felt the same way with you, just expressing it more as she actually did it.

“Not long, I just wanted to hold you for a little while,” she replied moving down a bit to reach your face and place lovable pecks around your mouth, all too quick for you reciprocate. Since her arm was snaked around your torso, her other one was underneath you as the hand connected was gently pawing at your soft hair. “We should stay in today, cook and maybe watch a movie together later,” she said, her husky voice a bit more prominent as it was early.

You nodded in agreement with her suggestion, finding it perfect and ideal as today was finally a free one for both of you. For the past week the you two were moderately busy. You knew how stressed she’s been with work, and you also wanted to make the most of the day. So to start it off, you initiated a heated kiss, wanting it to become and build up to more like most other mornings. Maybe her relieving herself by making you cu-

“Cmon, we should get out of bed,” Wanda said, quickly pulling away from the short lasting smack with an innocent smile. You made an obvious confused expression, but the woman ignored it as she released you from her embrace and got up from the sunken mattress. Looking up at her as she stood, you kept yourself in the same position since you were just planning on convincing her to go back under the blanket that you felt trapped under. Unfortunately for you, she only bent down to pull you up gently by the arm, saying “Let’s go take shower together, too.”

With that, your face lightened up as you began to consider that maybe she wanted to do something there instead. You quickly got up along with her help, and soon trailed behind. Once the two of you were in the bathroom, Wanda turned the shower faucet on, letting it become warmer before getting in. She let it run as she put out a hand under and felt for the right temperature. Luckily, it was quick and she allowed herself in first, getting of ahold of your hand to have you carefully step in. She was just so gentle with you, making sure you were always safe.

The moment the water made contact with your skin that was beginning to become chilly earlier, you suddenly forgot all about the cozy bed. Your body relaxed and in replacement of your thoughts, you went back the idea of pleasing Wanda. She looked at you as the water started to flatten your hair, but you also noticed how her eyes trailed down. Maybe it was now that she wanted to-

Before you knew it, she turned away and grabbed the bottle of shampoo, squirting some on her hand. Then she faced you again and immediately slathered the soap onto your head, though lightly. You again made a look as your eyebrows furrowed, but it soon went away as Wanda made it.

“Close your eyes for me,” she softly ordered, her fingers throughly and without much force, rubbing your scalp. You felt like melting under her despite the slight confusion of how she was being so… sweet. Sure she was like this all the time, but it felt a little different now. Especially since she hasn’t tried to do anything sexual with you like usual, only pampering and making you feel good in other ways.

She kept this up for a couple more minutes, and in honesty, you didn’t want it end. But of course it had to. Turning the shower head off, she grabbed a towel for you first, wrapping it around for you as you stood there letting her without little protest. Though, you did attempt to tell Wanda that you’re able to at least dry your hair yourself, but you were still met by her refusing and persuading you as she did all the work, telling you that she just wanted to take care of her sweet girl. And then this continued the rest day, you conflicted yet so warm and bubbly inside from how cared for you felt.

————————

By the time dinner arrived, Wanda kept herself busy in the kitchen, cooking one of your favorite dishes. And you, feeling unusually more needy, went through and stood by her. She noticed and felt a whoosh of air brush by her, indicating you were there, and so she turned her head away from the stove and towards you. She had a smile plastered on her face, gently glowing from the brightness of the light above her.

“Do you need any help..?” You asked meekly, your hands clasped together behind you as you stared over to the pot and then back to her. Wanda only shook her head, but found the way you were beginning to act endearing.

“Nope,” she started, setting aside the utensil she was using to stir before shifting her whole body in your direction. She stretched out her arms, grabbing you unexpectedly by your waist and picking you up high enough to place you on the marble counter. “Just sit pretty here for me, princess.”

Wanda stood between your legs and tilted her head up to peck your nose, lightly pinching your soft cheeks too, and making them heat up slightly. You listened and sat there until she was done, kicking your feet and swaying as you spoke and adorably ranted about random things that came to mind. And so, you didn’t notice the way Wanda looked at you. But how could you when you didn’t the entire morning till now.

Ever since she woke up, her mind was plagued with what she had in stored for today. Pushing you into this subby headspace. For what felt like so long, she planned on having you all to herself as she made sure that you’d be as agreeable as possible. Unbeknownst to you, Wanda had a lot more wants in the bedroom, and it was now that she wanted to test them out with you. But to do that, she needed you to be as needy as her, which at this point might be impossible.

Her hand came up to her neck to scratch as an itch came. With her set of eyes shifting between the task she was doing and you, all she had in her head was what’s been making her excited and filled with anticipation. The whole day so far, she had to hold herself back from indulging in anything. Every time you looked up at her with that cute little pleading face she wanted to break character and take you, but she needed to stay in check to ensure that you’d be fine for later. She knew how worn out you get after sex, so she couldn’t have you so early on, even if you were acting so appealing.

Wanda was barely able to focus on absolutely anything else other than the intrusive thoughts of corrupting your innocent sweet self. The way you were being now was already so perfect, needy yet a little air headed. She honestly could’ve went with it and had you do anything at that moment, but there was still something she wanted to do to really hit the nail. To make you as flustered as possible.

So once the two of you had an ordinary dinner, Wanda only gently placing her hand on your thigh under the table, she told you to go pick any movies of your liking while she insisted on cleaning. At first you wanted to refuse and help her, but you knew she’d just coax you into not doing it. And so you were there on the couch, clueless, waiting for her as you set up the tv. Skipping through the many selections of films, you found none of them interesting. But then again all you had in mind was Wanda.

Speaking of her, she came around the corner of couch, sitting beside you on the soft cushions. Her arm reached behind you on your lower back, pulling you in by the waist to snuggle up with her. By that action, your head was made to lean against your shoulder. But then her other hand came up to cup the side of your face that wasn’t pressed up, making you look up at her as she spoke with that sweet loving tone.

“Do you need mommy to do anything else for you, sweetie?”

You froze hearing that word, that name. You’ve never heard her say it in such a non sexual way, yet it made you just as nervous and immediately hot. Your face burned as you looked at her, only to see a normal expression as she stared back with a small curve of her pretty lips. “U-Um no, I’m fine…” you replied with a quiet mumble, turning back to the television screen that shined brightly in the dark atmosphere of the living room despite the sun still out.

Once you looked away, Wanda smirked to herself and pulled you slightly closer. She knew this would be your breaking point, where your head is the most fogged up and thoughtless. And she was right of course. Your entire body felt weird, like it couldn’t help but slightly tremble, some areas more than others. It was similar to chills, except heat replaced the coolness. Even the clothes you wore seemed to tighten around you, making it difficult to breathe the right way. You couldn’t take it anymore.

“Wanda…”

“Hm?” She hummed, answering you as she turned back again to look down. She saw how flushed you were, your eyes in a daze. You lightly tugged on her shirt, too, and it made her own stomach flutter.

“Can we… you know,” you tried hinting at what you wanted, too embarrassed to say it out loud. Yet Wanda insisted you should, teasing you in the process as she held a slight smile.

“I don’t think I know, honey. Just tell me.”

“Mm can we- um do something besides watch a movie?”

“Like what?” She continued to egg you on, knowing how nervous you get, and especially shy. But she loved to see it.

Your brows frowned once you sensed her teasing, making you pout with a slight puff in one cheek. It made Wanda’s smug face contort into a knowing grin as she snickered quietly. Then she talked for you.

“You want me to take care of you?

You nodded slowly at her question, your face still ablaze. Your thighs also began to squeeze together to ease the feeling between. “Please… mommy,” you mumbled under breath, looking away from her gaze after as you felt like shrinking. Wanda’s eyes widened hearing you, her heart beginning to race too. She really did have you now.

Peeling herself from you and standing up from the couch, she took ahold of your hand to get up and follow her as she led the way to the bedroom. Once you two were in, she gestured you to sit on the bed, also walking in the same direction but standing once you sat. Contemplating you, she asked a simple question.

“Can you do mommy one little favor?”

You looked up at her, curious as she asked somewhat hesitantly. Noticing the way she licked her lips, you figured it was something she’s been thinking about for some time. So you nodded, wanting to just do whatever. That way you could get what you wanted quicker.

She turned away from where you sat for a moment, towards the nightstand by her side of the bed. Pulling the top drawer open, her other hand reached in to grab an object before slowly taking it out. Then you saw what it was, bunny ears. Wanda went back to her original position, facing you now as she held the fuzzy accessory in front of you.

“Wear this for me, please?”

Wanda figured you’d be uncertain, maybe finding the idea ridiculous, but today was different. You were already so light headed and pliable, she knew you’d be more likely to agree now more than any other time. Ergo, she was met with your hand gently coming up to take the larger ears from her. Before you could though, she stopped you. “Let me put them on you.”

Your hand backed away and fell back down onto the bed, allowing her to place it on your head instead. Wanda spread the band of the ears open, letting it be wide enough to comfortably wrap around the top half. The ends were soft behind your real ears, and you actually enjoyed the feeling despite the lingering thoughts of being self conscious. But they were buried within your clouded mind, proving Wanda right. She was also enjoying the sight before her, yet that was maybe an understatement.

Her teeth bit on her lower lip as she carefully put them on you and not just from her preciseness but rather other reasons- because of how good you were for listening and the way you looked. For however long, shes been waiting to see you adorned as such. She was obsessed with the way it sat on top, one ear perked up while the other was slightly down. The light pink of the inner part contrasted with the brighter outer white, suiting and complementing the rest of your appearance. Wanda breathed out heavily, taking her hands off of you before looking away for a moment, and ordering you in tender manner, “Undress while Mommy puts on her strap, okay?”

The second she brought that up, you felt as if that one fake limp ear could’ve lifted in pure excitement. Again, you quickly listened to her and took off every single piece of fabric on you. You watched her mirror you, except strapping on a silicone toy to her center. The temperature of your face rose as you stared, examining how big the familiar piece was. You’ve taken it plenty of times to know how much damage it could do if Wanda wasn’t careful, but you had no worries at this moment, only thinking about her finally making you and herself feel good after a long day of deprivation.

Your eyes trailed her movements as she moved to sit down at the edge of the bed, then looking up at you before telling you to go and sit between her legs which were already spread apart. You took a few steps, going between her two limbs before bending down and kneeling. With your bottom pressed against the heels of your feet, you politely had your hands on your lap as you waited for her to tell you what to do. Although, you already had a sense of where this was going.

“Why don’t you get mommy’s cock ready? You can take your time,” she uttered softly, looking down and softly grasping your chin in which moved in her hold as you nodded again. She smiled at you, moving the strap to have the tip pressed against your lips. At that, you opened your mouth wide enough to take some of it in. However, you backed away nervously, letting it leave once it became too much. It was your first time doing this, sucking or even having her in your mouth. She noticed your hesitance, and only wheedled her way to make you more willing. “It’s ok, it’ll fit baby. You trust me right?”

You shyly hummed a yes, before you felt her make you open up again, this time her taking the lead and putting her hand behind your head as she slowly put her strap in your mouth. A loose strand of hair was out till she gently put it behind your ear. It was around a little more than two inches deep that you heard her praise.

“There you go, you’re taking it so well bunny.”

Your eyes widened, looking up at her. The new found pet name made a wave of arousal throughout your body, some of it slipping out of you and spreading its way around your inner thighs. You made a small whimper around her as she pushed your head down farther, and it had you shut your eyes as well. That was until you felt her lightly tap your face, making you open them again. “Keep looking up at me baby.”

You did as she said, with a doe-eyed appearance. Wanda bit lightly on her tongue, trying to find ways to control herself and not drive into your pretty mouth deeper than you can handle. You were just so so adorable, obeying her as you looked the way you did. Instead of pushing her hips up, she continued to bring your head down, making it hit the back of your throat as you gagged. Tears quickly pricked up. The intense eye contact was difficult to keep up despite the growing need, but you wanted to please the woman you loved.

Drool found its way around your lips, some of it dripping down to your chin as Wanda continued to make you choke on her. She didn’t think she could last another second of seeing you like this without actually applying more force with her body, so she pulled your head away by your hair from the back, making sure to not mess up the clean look of the bunny ears at least. She wiped the saliva off your face after the strap left your mouth with a small pop. Wanda then guided you to go on top of her, straddling her lap in a gradual manner.

“Mommy’s gonna make you feel really good, but I need you to do one more thing, okay?” she muttered, placing her hands underneath your thighs to pull up enough to have the top of her cock to press against your center. She felt the slickness, too, then leisurely lowering you. Most of it was in as you softly moaned, staring down at it disappearing within you. Wanda did the same before looking back up, placing her hands on your hips. You clenched your jaw, the feeling of her length inside you a bit larger than you remembered as she adjusted underneath you.

“Mommy, I-it’s big…”

“I know, I know… just go up and down. Can you do that? Bounce on mommy’s cock?” she spoke with a condescending tone, as if you really were a pet. Still, her words made you squeeze tighter around her, and it was enough to persuade you. You timidly mumbled a small “ok” and languidly lifted yourself up and then went back down, the tip pressing against your cervix already.

Wanda watched every movement you made, her eyes trailing from your center all the way up to the tip of the cutesy ears. As the sun was beginning to set, the soft yellow glow shined through the curtains of the window, making your skin have that certain golden hour look. She was in awe with how everything went accordingly. As you rode her strap, the singular drooped ear bounced along with you, flopping up and down. A part of you felt humiliated at the thought of Wanda seeing you like this, so you looked anywhere but her. She noticed it though.

“What, bunny? Are you shy?” her voice sounded like it dripped with honey. You let out a quiet whine of her name, the hold on her shoulders changing into your arms wrapped around her neck instead as you buried your face into the crook of it. Wanda lightly chuckled as she saw you getting more embarrassed, and rested her chin on you as she moved a bit closer to your ear. Her hand came up smoothly against your back, rubbing it to calm your nerves.

“Aw you are… you can’t even look me my sweet girl,” she said teasingly, and it only made you screw your eyes shut as you kept your face there. The combination of the smell of her perfume and her small gestures on your body made you dizzy. You were still riding her strap, though slower now, and Wanda let it happen as she waited for you to be a bit more docile.

After a minute or two passed, she moved the hand that was comfortingly on your back to the side of your face, leaning back to get you out of that position. Wanda made you look directly at her, and then you noticed how out of it she looked too. Once she was able to see you, her eyes became completely blown out, her pupils black with a thin ring of light green around them. Suddenly, you felt a harsher grip on your waist that lifted you up a bit, only to be met with Wandas hips roughly snapping upward. You winced and let out a small cry, your hands closing up in fists from the sharp pain. “M-Mommy slower, please…”

“Fuck, I’m sorry baby,” she huffed out, gulping down as she kept her gaze on you. With your eyebrows pulled together and your eyes glossed over from the continuous remarks she made about you, she couldn’t help but feel some sort of cute aggression take over her. She kept thrusting into your pussy, though less harder than the first thrust, as you let out noises on top of her. Her bottom lip quivered with need, uttering “you’re so cute, I can’t help it.”

As you began to ease up to the feeling and size, your mewls turned into pleasurable moans. Wanda took it as a sign to quicken her pace under you, and once she did, she also pulled you down onto her. The impact of it hit a spot you didn’t even know of. Her breathing sped up into pants, “I don’t think mommy can hold herself back anymore…”

Consequently, her strap aggressively fucking into your cunt made you dumbfounded. Wanda could’ve barely kept it together, and to take out some of her sexual frustration, she came forward and bit the lower part of your neck. The soft flesh becoming easily punctured, and causing you to whimper more. “Shhh, I know, it’s so hard to think when my cocks so deep inside you,” she pulled away from the now bruised spot, and made your head tilt down to allow her lips to crash into yours. The make out was rushed and hungry, moans spilling from both of you. A trail of spit followed suit as Wanda drew back. “But it’s ok, you don’t have to think right now. Just be a good dumb bunny for mommy.”

You shakily nodded, not even sure of what she meant. At this point you’ve gone fully non verbal, another sign to Wanda that she could just about do whatever she wanted with you. So compliant and easy, she fucking obsessed with you. Her eyes continued to zero in on your expression and the white fuzzed up ears, which made her force herself into you rougher and deeper. She was even letting out her own soft groans similar to your noises.

The built up feeling within your burning tummy was starting to unravel as Wanda continuously hit your g-spot. You held tightly on her shoulders for stability, letting her just take out all of her frustrations on your sore but greedy pussy. She was getting a lot more brutal than what you’d expect. The room was filled with the sounds of squelching, skin coming into contact, and heavy breathing. Your fingers began to curl into her skin, making your nails painfully dig in and signaling her that were extremely close to cumming.

“Are you gonna make a mess on mommy’s lap? Yeah I bet you are...” she panted in your ear again with the prior higher pitched tone, making you tighten impossibly more around her cock. Still, she able to push through. The moment those words left her mouth, you shook your head yes vigorously. Wanda would usually make you beg and ask for permission, but she knew the state you were in right now. “Mhm, cum for me bunny.”

On command you shuddered above her, a wet mess leaving you and around her strap. The sensation you felt was almost unbearable, just so sensitive, yet amazing as your brain had nothing to think about. Your climax was all that you hoped for after such a long tedious day of teasing. It made you feel the fire at the pit of your stomach burn at its peak. Immediately, you fell limp on top as your legs shakily gave up from its support. But Wanda kept you up, enough for her to still bury herself into you and letting you ride out your orgasm.

Once it fully passed and started to overstimulate, you whined and made her stop. Thankfully she did, even if a part of her wanted to do more to your poor body. Her arms wrapped around your middle and made your chest, which was rising in and out rapidly, press against the side of her face. She comfortingly held you like this for a moment, making sure you caught your breath as she listened to sound of your heartbeat. Her head then moved back up to look at you, “You’re so good, sweetie. Mommy’s perfect girl.” She spoke with tenderness, making sure you continued to stay in that floaty headspace even after, especially after.

You couldn’t help but lean down and place a chaste kiss to her lips unexpectedly. But Wanda sensed your clinginess per usual. As you detached, her mouth formed into a smile, the one you loved so much as the lines around the sides became more noticeable.

“I love you so much, you have no idea,” she murmured. Even as the sun began to become out of sight, you knew her cheeks were red. She placed more feather like kisses around your neck and up your jaw. She didn’t think you’d respond back, so she kept on the aftercare and words of praise. “My shy little bunny, so perfect.”

You blushed profusely as you felt a flutter in your lower stomach, the name making you more giddy despite the many uses of it already. You still needed more time to get used to it- that is if you ever will.

“I love you too mommy…”

Your meek voice caught her off guard, but it turned purely sweet as her grin grew larger. She held your face again, kissing you another time, this time longer. Look at you still trying so hard to please her.

It was obvious that Wanda would’ve done anything for you. And it was the same with you, of course. So likely, next time she’ll have you doing another thing for her the same way as today. Maybe an additional fluffy tail that she already had in mind.

#wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #mommy!wanda #top!wanda #elizabeth olsen #lesbian #INEEDHERNOW #wanda x fem!reader

1K notes · View notes

tojipie · 7 months

Note

Omg please please please write another fic about needy cry baby gf and Toji 😫🙏🏽🙏🏽🙏🏽

thinking abt him not realizing when he’s being mean because he grew up in a house full of boys where insults were a form of affection :( we’ve all got a little bit of crybaby reader in us me finks

content: hurt/comfort, angst, fluff

────────────────────────

a sea of limbs dance and weave around the court with intricacies you won’t even pretend to understand, leaving you more confused with each passing minute.

you remind yourself that you’re here for toji, wanting to spend more time with him regardless of whether you were into the activity.

toji liked it, so you liked it. at least before the game got confusing.

“that was two points, right?” you ask him, trying to make sense of the shot a player had just made.

toji pauses, holding the chilled end of his beer can to the back of his neck.

“three, baby.” he corrects, kicking his work boots off. the older man relaxes into the soft embrace of the couch with a groan, propping his feet up on the ottoman.

“right… right.” you realize, listening as the announcer gives a rundown of what just happened. you look over and gauge his expression, searching for any acknowledgment of what you’d just said.

“sorry, not really a basketball fan.” you joke, hoping to alleviate the awkward air.

“not that smart either, huh?” toji chuckles, taking a sip of his beer.

your stomach drops at the comment. blood rushes to your ears as humiliation takes over, eyes welling up with hot tears.

you knew he was 100% joking. that’s just how toji was around the people he loved.

you were being too sensitive, right?

the two of you had discussed instances like this before, the older man explaining that that was truly just how he spoke to people.

he never meant to upset you, in fact he’d rather hang than ever hurt you on purpose. his words, not yours.

toji has promised you he was working on it, trying to choose his words more carefully around you.

that’s all it was, you tell yourself. a simple slip of the tongue.

or was he truly mad at you this time?

nope. just a joke. you tell yourself, fiddling with a loose thread in your sleeve to distract from the lump in your throat. you try to inhale around the blockage, accidentally releasing a sob that alerts toji right away.

“hey.” he mumbles, setting his drink down to look at you. calloused hands cradle your face as the older man takes a close look at you.

you pull away, trying to compose yourself. just a joke! you remind yourself.

a joke, not serious. just. a. joke.

“nonono, hey it’s okay.” he whispers, eyes blowing wide as he realizes the gravity of the situation.

“i’m sorry sweetheart, i’m sorry.” he pleads, muting the tv to focus on you.

“m’ not stupid.” you whimper, wiping each eye with the back of your hand.

“course not pretty girl.” he whispers, rubbing your back in soft circles. “i’m sorry, you know that’s j—“

“just how you talk.” you mumble, not sure if his explanation actually made it ok.

“but.” he starts, pulling you into his lap with a grunt.

“that’s not an excuse, right?” he asks you, clearly remorseful.

“need to watch my mouth around my girl, huh?” he chuckles, still rubbing small circles up and down your back.

“it’s ok.” you conclude, resting your head on his shoulder as he presses soft kisses to your cheeks and forehead.

“hate making you upset.” he tells you firmly, nuzzling into the crown of your head.

“you wanna watch something else?” he asks, placing the remote in your hand. “movie, youtube?”

you crawl out of the older man’s lap and onto the couch, pulling up prime to scan the comedy section.

“i fucking hate basketball.” you giggle, the man beside you breaking out in full blown laughter as you press play on the remote.

#adah’s asks #toji x reader #jujutsu kaisen #toji fluff #toji drabbles #toji hcs #toji x reader fluff #toji x reader angst #toji x reader hurt/comfort #hurt/comfort #toji x fem reader #toji x fem reader flufd #jjk #zenin toji #toji zenin #zenin toji x reader

2K notes · View notes

heartfullofleeches · 12 days

Note

OKG OMG CATMAN DILF PRACTICING HIS SIGNATURE OVER AND OVER FOR GOLDENRETRIEVER READER ASKIN FOR AN AUTOGRAPH- OMGOMG

Yan Ex-Idol Catman + Fan Golden Retriever Hybrid Reader

He's done it a million times before. This should be easy-

"Maybe it's time for me to move again."

Moving cost outweigh the humiliation. He can always find another house near a park or school. One so close to either is hard to find around these parts, but he'll manage. The neighbors, on the other hand... It'd be hard to find anyone like that sweet mutt next door.

"Shit...." The feline scratches behind his ears - molars nawing at the plastic heart glued to the pen grasped in his fist. Torn scraps of notebook paper flutter to the carpeted floor around him as he props his arms up on the table - written signatures of differing scale and quality penned on each. If he could rewind the clock a decade or so - and used a pen with better ink, he'd have done it right the first time. All he had at he desk where the glittery pens his daughter left behind during her last visit. The kind that only seemed to work every other stroke. Had he really sunk so low to blame the inability to write his own name on a cheap pen? Why was he even doing this anyway? The day he quit, he swore he'd live his life for his fans no longer. Why go through all this effort now?

"Makariy!!!"

Fingernails claw at his front door. Makariy closes the notebook, tucking it beneath the couch cushions as he climbs up into the furniture. He pauses briefly to check his shirt for stains before speaking.

"It's open."

A gust of wind scatters more pages across the living room floor as the door is ripped out. While he may have hide the book, the physical evidence was still present. He brushes a few of the notes beneath the couch as you enter - trotting up to the coffee table where you drop a fatter stack of paper.

"I brought your mail, made you some lunch, and.... Are those?....."

Kneeling, you gather up some of the pages off the floor. The accelerating wag of your tail creates a small vacuum to which the remainder are sucked into. You snatch them up as well - bouncing on your heels from all the excitement coursing through your veins.

"Are these the signatures I asked you for?" Your voice comes out in quick exhalations - barely sparing a breath between each word. "I mean I only asked you for one, but I can have these too right?! Wait, are they for other people? I'm sorry for being greedy if they are, I just didn't think you'd actually do this for me! Thank you, thank you, thank you- Sir!

Makariy jumps up out of his seat as you bow at his feet. He pulls you off your knees, dragging you up onto the couch as he hears you digging underneath for the other scraps s he hid. "Hey, hey- What did I tell you about that Sir, shit. I'm just your neighbor, got it?

"I know, Si- Makariy. It's just not everyday you mean the lead singer for your favorite idol group. Let alone have him as your neighbor. I hope the food I brought will make up for my outburst."

You have to be conscious of it by now. Even you can't be this oblivious. If you continue to look at him with those eyes there's no way he'll be able to get out of this neighborhood anytime in the near future. There's no telling when the wonder in them will fade once you realize he's nothing like he was back then... He's not sure if his heart can take it.

"You're fine. Just stay for once instead of running off when I start eating. Why do you do that anyway?"

"Just trying to respect your privacy, Sir! Ack- I did it again, and didn't I....."

Oh well... Better to enjoy things while they last.

#Makariy my oc #yandere oc #yandere x reader #yandere headcanons #yandere imagines #yandere x you #yandere insert #yandere blurb #male yandere #yandere scenarios #yandere #yandere hybrid #yandere drabble

448 notes · View notes

frogchiro · 3 months

Note

Omg Cocky younger graves with hacker girl and captain Mactavish and like graves is being humiliated and forced to watch and he is just so pathetic and 😳😳😳

After John caught Philip peeping at you, the captain decided that enough is enough and punishment must be issued! He will not allow such things to happen on his watch; some dumb, young pervert perving on pretty girls and thinking they'll get away with it >:(

And so, Captain MacTavish will have Graves sitting like a good lad, hands tied above his head as he's squirming and whining about this all not being fair, that the captain is a cruel, nasty asshole who won't let him have his fun but the larger male isn;t listening at all, after all he's busy sucking on the soft, full tits of the pretty hackergirl Graves was perving on while fingering her sweet cunt as she whines in both pleasure and embarrassment :((

You can whine all you want, John is not letting you go until Philip learns his lesson! Don't you want him punished too? He was so so awful to you, wasn't he? Always wolf whistling at you, always catcalling you, trying to sneak a grope to your soft curves and borderline dry humping you when you were assigned to train together, so now he will get to watch all he wants but can't touch!

Poor poor Philip has to endure watching the huge, burly captain roughly fuck your swollen cunt, the larger male's strong hips almost bruising yours with the strength behind his thrusts as if he's trying to get as deep inside you as it can go and judging by your moans and squeals of pleasure he's doing just that :(( Philip even tries to lean in and watch the captain's cock disappear inside you, a creamy white ring already forming on his base as he continues to hump you; short but strong thrusts ensuring his fat, swollen tip is fucking against all the sweetest spots inside you and that his potent cum will go as deep as possible :((

With Philip whining and his poor cock leaking and with you on your back taking it like the good girl you are, John actually wonders if he should call in the other captain, Price and Lieutenant Riley to have their way with you too to show the cocky little shit how real, grown and experienced men fuck <3

#kin speaks #asks #interactions #cod x reader #cod mw x reader #john mactavish x reader #captain john mactavish #captain mactavish x reader #philip x reader #philip graves x reader #graves x reader #john soap mactavish #philip graves

644 notes · View notes

hoseokshobagi · 4 months

Text

† Reborn in Sin ⸸ | Sneak peak | PJM

† Reborn in Sin ⸸ sneak peak

✞PAIRING: demon!jimin x fem!reader

✞ 【SUMMARY】: for years jimin was your constant and loyal companion in the church, a shining example of humility and compassion. but when he was tragically taken from the world before he could experience life, his heart was filled with anger and resentment. and so, in a moment of weakness, he struck a deal with the devil, trading his soul for a second chance at life. but when he returned, he was no longer your kind and devoted boy you once knew.

✞ 『GENRE』: dark ✟ supernatural ✟ fantasy ✟ angst ✟ smut

✞ RATING: 18+ / minors do not interact

✞ WORD COUNT: loading...

✞ [WARNINGS/TAGS] : dead dove, dark, death, manipulation, corruption (kink?), church & religion, blasphemy & desecration, [oral(m) - not with reader, headpusher jimin, face fucking, spit play], dirty talk, humiliation, degradation, dubcon, public fingering, exhibitionism, sexual "nightmares" & hallucinations, mind games, jimin is the worst & the BIGGEST warning!!!!, oral(f), cunt drunk jimin, unprotected sex, rough sex, orgasm denial, edging, overstimulation, unrealistic amount of cum lmao, cum play, betrayal, mind break

✞ NOTE: hi beautiful people!!! this story was written for the @btsfests writing fest. actually this is the first time i publish my writing and omg ahcbdjs i'm so nervous while writing this note. i always wrote for myself and my closest friends but thanks to bts fests and their never ending encouraging words i decided to show off my writing. this little part is the reason why i started writing this whole story and i hope you'll like it just as much as i enjoyed writing every word. :] this demon jimin is the most cunty & selfish character i've written so far so yall better prepare yourselves ajfnsjxnsjs

english is not my native language, but despite that i'll write and communicate in english. please if you see an error in my writing or grammar lmk!! <3

my dearest beta read: @liveyun 🐢♡

COMING SOON

❗this is the darkest fic i've ever written so please read all the warnings before reading❗

The delicate chimes of the church bell echoed softly through the cavernous rafters, casting an unsettling shadow over Jimin’s mind. Like ghostly whispers emanating from the very walls and pillars of the church, the sounds seemed to taunt him. Whispering to him that he no longer belonged in this sacred space.

He couldn’t believe how he used to devour Father Seokjin’s every word, eagerly drinking up his sermons like it was the finest wine he ever tasted. In this very church, where he had spent countless hours sitting in the pews, Jimin felt like a stranger in the world he once called home.

He looked to his left and gazed upon the sweet, delicate flower — the very reason why he was there. Innocence shining in your eyes, your eyelashes fluttered like the softest butterfly wings. Sitting next to him with hands clasped tightly together in your lap, you looked as pure as new snow, listening to the mass.

Oh, how much he forced himself to resist the urge to reach out and ruin you right then and there. To feel the delicate petals of your innocence as they crumpled beneath his fingers. But he was going to do so slowly, savoring every moment of your fall from grace.

So, he grit his teeth and forced himself to endure the priest’s words and the choir’s music, at least, for a while.

Despite his best efforts, this place was as dull and lifeless as the stones that made up its walls. He spent half of his life trapped within these confines, he knew every creak of the floorboards, every flicker of light, every word and phrase of the Bible that was engraved in his mind, the product of countless wasted years.

Jimin raised a hand to his face, tracing each perfect curve of his newly manicured nails, scrutinizing them from every angle. He raised an eyebrow in anticipation, marveling at Hoseok’s handiwork.

He couldn’t wait to make another deal with the bastard later.

You noticed his attention was drifting and Jimin’s reverie was broken by a gentle tap on his shoulder, causing his thoughts to come crashing down around him like a house of cards. He turned to see your confused eyes peering up at him, your delicate lips murmuring a soft “pray”.

He couldn’t help but mentally roll his eyes. Oh, you were so annoying. He was going to make you pay for all the stress and frustration that he had to go through and endure because of you.

Jimin lowered his head and with a deep breath, closed his eyes, pretending as if he was lost in prayer, his mind far from it. Wandering anywhere but there.

As you finally turned back to offer your own prayers, he couldn’t resist and raised his eyes, glancing back at you.

And he was so fucked.

You were a sight to behold, more divine than the sacred paintings that adorned the walls of this church.

As your eyes drifted shut, your lashes like feathers of a sleeping bird, delicately brushed the curves of your eyes. The soft radiance of the lights danced upon your face, creating a tender veil of shadows that caressed your skin.

Your lips moved in silent devotion as you murmured in such sincerity, clutching the Holy Book tightly in your hands. And he swears, he could feel his dick twitch just at the sight.

You were so breakable, so vulnerable and so fucking beautiful.

Yeah, he was so fucked. So lost in you.

Park’s burning desires had been building to a crescendo in the last few days, a boiling point that seemed to threaten to engulf him whole. He felt like his longing for you was an aching fire that was on the verge of exploding. The mere sight of you at the church was a powerful trigger to him, fanning the flames for this fire.

And he thought it was ridiculous.

He couldn’t believe how he couldn’t control himself, his body yearning for yours, needing to stain the purity of your grace, to spread his sin all around your soul. To corrupt the sacredness of who you were with the foulness of who he had become.

He glanced around and took in the sights and sounds of the church, noticing that everyone was enraptured by the mass. Their focus was solely on the priest at the cathedral, their attention directed nowhere else.

With a subtle smirk playing at the corners of his mouth, he slipped closer to you and your sweet scent filled his nostrils; making him feel intoxicated. He knew exactly what he had to do; a little play won’t hurt anyone.

Jimin’s touch was like a gentle caress of a summer breeze, soft and tender, caressing your skin like the lightest of kisses. Your eyes flicked open, searching for the source of such unexpected warmth.

And there he was, with his legs crossed, - his gaze fixed on you with such intensity that always made your cheeks warm for some reason – one arm resting comfortably on his elbow on the church pew, the other continuing to idly play with the soft fabric of your long skirt.

You never wore anything revealing; preferring modesty over anything else, however this time, you felt utterly exposed as his eyes roamed over your form like that. Jimin always enjoyed this, stripping away your layers one by one, revealing the true you that lay beneath.

Slowly he drew near, his aura spreading like a thick mist, wrapping around you. The scent of his cologne swirled around as his body pressed against yours, his knee gently nudging yours. His warm breath brushed against your cheeks, like the caress of a dead night.

"What are you doing?"

"Nothing. Keep praying." You looked at his hand, still playing with your skirt, unsure of what to say. Jimin’s voice was calm and soft, yet, there was something about his dark eyes that made you feel uneasy. Like he was biding his time, planning his next move.

It clearly made you uncomfortable, but you were too naive to say anything, too afraid to speak your mind, not to mention that you were sure Jimin would never do anything wrong, so you turned back again and closed your eyes to pray.

But what you didn’t know was that you were already entangled by the snake’s coils; Jimin waited for the moment when you would break. He was so curious, so eager to see just how far you would go, how much you would endure before you finally stepped up and told him to stop.

Would you wrench his hand away? Would you yell at him? Would you make a scene in the middle of the church? He knew you wouldn’t, knew you were just too gentle and too timid to disrespect your favorite little church.

And so, he kept pushing, pushing your boundaries and invading your personal space, inch by inch, leaving a trail of gooseflesh in the wake of his touch.

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, trying desperately to break free from his touch, but he only tightened his grip, making your heart race with a mixture of fear and uncertainty.

"Jimin, can you please stop?" Oh, that was it. Your question was hardly above a whisper, as though afraid of you would be heard by those around you. The snake’s grip finally ensnared his delicate, little flower and he had no intention of stopping.

„Keep it down. You wouldn’t wanna disturb the praying souls now, would you?”

A devilish smirk played on his lips, eyes like black holes bearing down at you. His voice was like honey dripping from his lips; so soft and alluring. A stark contrast to the real meaning behind his words and actions. He continued to run his hand up your thigh, pushing your long skirt higher and higher until it was bunched around your waist.

"Jimin, st—" His other hand slithered around from the back of your neck, forcefully covering your mouth, silencing any words that wanted to escape your lips. Whatever you tried to say it came out muffled by his hand, leaving you feeling panicked and completely helpless.

You grasped at the material like a lifeline, desperate to pull it back down, but Jimin’s arm was like a steel barricade, preventing you from covering yourself. You felt trapped, your body burning with the shame of exposure.

"I said keep your mouth shut. We don’t want others to see you like this, do we?"

Your breath caught in your throat, unable to escape as the fear of being discovered and shamed in front of everyone took over. All you could do was fix your gaze on Jimin’s intense, brooding eyes, silently pleading for mercy with your own desperate ones. Ah, so pretty for him.

As you gazed into the depths of his dark eyes, the windows to his no longer existing a soul, you revealed a darkness that engulfed you, and you knew there was no escape.

You were at his mercy, and he had none.

Jimin’s pupils dilated at the sight, your skin was soft and flawless, causing a shiver to run down his spine as he gently touched you. The delicate fabric of your white panties teased him, giving him just a glimpse of what was hidden underneath.

With a playful twinkle in his eyes, he lazily played with the tiny, little, pink bow adorning the center of your panties. His actions were a clear taunt, a display of the control he had over you and your vulnerabilities.

It was clear you wanted to push him away, to scold him, yell at him, but he knew the fear of causing a scene in church held you back. You tried to glance around nervously, hoping no one would notice what was happening.

The world seemed to come to a standstill, the only thing that existed was the fast, thumping beat of your heart as Jimin’s hand slithered closer and closer to the place where it had no business being. You felt trapped, your body frozen, unable to break free as if you were held captive by a coiled serpent; its grip tightening with each struggle. The sound of your unsteady breaths filled the air, the only thing grounding you in reality, that, and the heat from his touch, because this serpent was crafted from the finest satin.

„Shh, baby, it’s okay. It’s okay, keep praying so God won’t mind, yeah?”

His words made you paralyzed, like a spell, breaking you down. Words like those should never have left the lips of the kind and caring Jimin that you thought you knew. Your mind was reeling with shock and pain, struggling to make sense of how someone you had trusted completely could suddenly become a stranger. Jimin’s actions were like a knife to your heart, a stab that pierced through the trust you had placed in him.

With the grace of a feather dancing on skin, Jimin traced his fingers over your clothed clit, making you tremble beneath his touch. A soft gasp escaped your lips, your eyes widening as you felt the weight of the moment sinking in.

And he chuckled softly, a low rumble that only you could hear, taking your response as a cue, he increased the pressure. His skilled fingers now applied a firm yet tender touch, coaxing your body to new heights of pleasure, and your body tingled in response, betraying you by a throbbing ache that grew stronger with every touch.

As the ripples of pleasure swirled within you, you tried to pull back, to resist the sin that was happening in the very place where you sought solace and salvation. The guilt gnawed at your soul, the snake’s venom that seeped into every crevice, tainting the flower’s beauty.

And yet, Jimin reveled in your pain, basking in the darkness of your suffering as he watched the guilt consume you whole. The venom of your remorse was a feast for his senses; the holy wine, the sweetest elixir to be savored with every devious sip.

"Look, what do we have in here." He pressed his thumb against the dark spot on your panties, causing you to shiver. For him, the sensations of your wetness seeping through the fabric was like an euphoric rush, the sweet nectar of his delicate flower, intoxicating and irresistible.

Heat spread across your cheeks, horror and shame washing over you at his words, you shook your head, tried to move, tried to tell him to stop, but you found yourself lost in his eyes, searching for any sign of the person you once knew. But all you saw was darkness, a void that seemed to swallow you whole.

"Deny it if you want, baby, but aren’t you a nasty girl? You’re fucking soaking."

And it was true. Your body felt like it was betraying you, and you were mortified. He ignited a fire within you that you couldn’t deny. A soft cry slipped from your lips, but you couldn’t bear to face him, knowing that you were powerless in his grasp.

You were unable to believe what was happening. As someone who had always followed the Catholic faith and held its teachings in high regard, there you were, in this sacred place, allowing something so forbidden to take place.

But as his fingers slipped under the fabric of your panties, your mind went blank. The back of Jimin’s hand clung to your sticky panties as his fingers found their way down to your folds, the feeling making him shiver.

„Fuck— you’re so wet, can’t wait to feel you around me.”

You squeezed your lips together under Jimin’s hand to keep from making any noise, your eyes squeezed shut, tears threatened to spill down your cheeks as his wet fingers continued to rub and spread your folds apart, smearing your sticky arousal all over your cunt.

„Shh, this won’t make you a sinner baby, it’s okay. You won’t mind just one finger inside, yeah?” His middle finger probed at your entrance, teasing it, making it wetter still, as he slowly pushed in.

„Y-yeah baby— just one finger?” He teased and removed his finger, making you clench around thin air, and Jimin swears, the feeling made him twitch inside his pants. Teasing you – or himself, it didn’t matter anymore – he plunged back in, tauntingly slow.

Jimin’s eyes rolled to the back of his skull, his hard dick pressing firmly against his pants, yearning for release. To him this is how true Paradise felt like, the feeling of your silk walls wrapped around his digit.

He was about to lose it.

He bottomed his finger out inside you, knuckle deep, until his small 13 tattoo on his wrist met with your lower abdomen.

But he craved more. Fuck, how much he wanted to slam you against the pew and spread your thighs wide open, stretching your pretty little pussy right out with his dick. And who could blame him with the way your cunt gripped on his one single digit like that, dripping wet and sinfully warm.

But he couldn’t— not now. And it made him crazy.

You sank into the pew, your body trembling as he started to move his finger, his other hand still covering your mouth to keep you quiet. Every part of you was on fire, your mind and body in a constant battle between desire and shame. You were supposed to stop him, to push him away, but all you could manage was tremble and it made your eyes water.

It was a mixture of remorse and the burning desire pounding between your thighs; something you had never experienced before and something you knew you shouldn’t have felt at all in this holy place. And more likely you should’ve never clenched harder around Jimin’s finger when you heard the small shudder in each breath he took.

"Ahh baby—" The faint, breathy little whimper shattered his voice. "fuck.. you’re so perfect… so f-fucking perfect."

Your heart pounded in your chest, your breath shallow and ragged, mirroring the rhythm of his finger. With his warm breath tickling your ear, his whispered words were barely audible, but they still managed to send shivers down your spine.

"Ooh, h-how I wish to see this perfect fucking pussy."

Jimin couldn’t take his eyes off of you as he watched your face intently, committing every single feature and expression to his memory. The way your brows were furrowed in pleasure, the way you fought to keep your eyes open due to the sensitivity.

He couldn’t help but admire the way your chest rose and fell with each ragged breath, the way you tried to stifle your moans under his hand, and the way your juices flowed from your aching cunt.

You were a captivating sight, sinful and alluring, flesh heated and glistening with arousal, and he knew you couldn’t deny it even though you tried. Your trembling body and the slickness on his fingers were evidence of the truth.

He slowly added a second finger, stretching you open further and moving faster, his fingers stroking your sensitive spot, sending waves of pleasure through you. With every stroke, you felt your body weakening, and your thoughts began to succumb to the corrupting pleasure.

Despite your protests, your body responded eagerly, arching towards him in a desperate plea for more; seeking more of the exquisite pleasure he was giving you.

You never felt so conflicted in your entire life, your mind was a battlefield; torn between your beliefs and the undeniable pleasure that was now coursing through your veins. Every creak of the old wooden pews felt like a judgment, a cruel reminder that you were committing a sin that would send you to the depths of damnation.

But when Jimin serendipitously grazed your swollen clit with his thumb, your mind went blank. You’d lost it.

Your hips involuntarily jerked against his hand, unable to contain the overwhelming pleasure. You gritted your teeth, determined to keep your cries of ecstasy at bay, but it was a dead effort as you squirmed and moaned, muffled by his hand covering your mouth.

"Fuck— Don’t moan like that, you’re getting too loud, keep quiet."

But you couldn’t. It was as if your head was spinning, unable to focus on anything except the pleasure. The way he slid his fingers in and out of you, his thumb perfectly stimulating your clit, it was too much.

Despite your efforts, you couldn’t contain the small moans that escaped your lips. The church was now just a blur in the background, the stained glass windows casting kaleidoscopic patterns on the floor.

"Shit, baby, keep fucking quiet or do you want me to slip those fucking panties off and stuff them in your mouth, hm?" Jimin’s whispered words sent shivers down your spine, making you clasp around his fingers right back in.

"Y-yeah, you want that baby? My nasty girl, s-so good... so fucking perfect." He moved his fingers faster, his thumb circling deliciously on your clit, building up the pace for your climax, your body crying out for release. And oh, how he reveled in it, savoring every moment, every sensation as his little flower finally opened its petals to him.

"You’re so close, baby, f-fuck— just let go, let me take you there."

As Jimin’s fingers brought you closer and closer to the brink, you couldn’t help but give in, feeling all the guilt and shame wash away in the face of the intense pleasure you were feeling.

„Ooh, fuck— Y-yeah, baby, go on. Come all over my fucking fingers.”

Just as you were about to reach the peak, a sudden thud broke through the lustful haze. Your tear-filled eyes fluttered open and you glanced up to the top of the church’s gallery, where you saw the organ player, Mr. Min sprawled on the ground at the bottom of the stairs, amidst a sea of fallen notes.

In that moment, time seemed to stand still as your eyes met his, and you saw the shock and disbelief on his once serene face.

Your heart plummeted like a falling star, sinking into the depths of your stomach as you realized what you must look like to Mr. Min. Your cheeks burned with the heat of a thousand suns as you met his gaze, his face a canvas of flushed embarrassment, crushing you with shame and guilt.

For in the eyes of Mr. Min, you were no other, but a sinner caught in the act of sin in the house of the divine. And as the notes of the holy music lay scattered at his feet, you couldn’t help but wonder if they were a reflection of your shattered innocence.

Mr. Min quickly ascended the stairs to the organ, his emotions were in disarray, a tumultuous blend of arousal and embarrassment. With each step, he tried to push away the image of what he had just seen, but it lingered like a haunting melody in his mind.

His cheeks burned with shame, but he couldn’t help stealing a glance at you before he reached the top of the stairs, his feline eyes burning you whole.

Exposed and vulnerable, you were unable to look at the organ player in the eyes anymore. You closed your eyes tight in an attempt to block out the intensity of his gaze. But even with your eyes shut, you could feel his feline eyes looking down at you.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head at the image, Jimin’s skillful fingers never faltered to move inside you, your body feeling like it was exploding. A soft whimper escaped your lips, which got silenced by his firm grasp.

With each second you felt yourself surrendering to the overwhelming ecstasy.

As you teetered on the edge, ready to fall into the abyss of pleasure, you were suddenly jolted back to reality, finding yourself next to Jimin who was kneeling humbly on the wooden pew of the church, praying.

With eyes wide open, heated cheeks and heavy breathing you gazed at your own clasped hands on the pew.

Was this all in your head? How could you have let your mind wander to sinful desires in the sacred walls of the church?

Jimin’s innocent devotion to his God only amplified your own guilt, making you feel like a fallen angel in the presence of his pure soul.

Jimin couldn’t help but smirk, he bit the inside of his cheek, but it didn’t help hiding it. He moved his clasped hands toward his mouth to hide the devilish smirk that appeared on his lips.

For he knew the power he held over you, the power to seduce and corrupt your very being. And with each passing day he was one step closer to claiming your body and soul for his own.

And as you sat there, lost in a whirlwind of emotions, Jimin continued to pray, his facade of innocence masking the devilish intentions that lurked within.

#bts scenarios #bts smut #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts imagines #jimin fanfic #jimin scenarios #jimin smut #jimin x reader #park jimin x reader #bts x reader #park jimin fanfic #btsfests #park jimin smut

648 notes · View notes

princessbrunette · 3 months

Note

omg omg omg so I think once rafe and princess have been together a while and he’s basically taken on a paternal role in her life (which his ego loves), calling him dad/daddy would almost become second nature to them. like it’s weirdly comforting for the both of you. You like calling him that because he guides you and takes care of you!! He likes being called that because youre his girl!! and he protects you!! But it’s like so second nature you don’t even realize you’re saying it sometimes and one time you accidentally called rafe dad in front of ward 😳🩷 I don’t even think rafe would be embarrassed like he’d just shrug like “yeah, baby? you need dad to help you with something?”

୭ 🤍 ✧ ˚. 🥛

ward wouldn’t believe it, or maybe he chooses not to believe that’s an actual thing that goes on between the two of you simply for his peace of mind.

the three of you are in the kitchen, rafe reading over a bunch of papers his dad was making him look over spread across the kitchen island, you were shuffling about making a snack, and ward was sat with a cup of coffee, scrolling through his phone and occasionally overseeing rafe.

you go to place something back in the fridge and back into rafe by accident, only slightly jostling him.

“oo— sorry dad.” you speak softly and he only glances at you briefly, muttering words that he read to himself.

“you’re good, baby.” he mumbles, distracted. ward however was staring, a polite and yet disturbed smile gracing his features. the habit was so ingrained in you, that neither of you had realised that you’d called rafe ‘dad’ infront of his actual father.

“sweetheart, did you just call rafe dad?” he asks gently, almost cautiously like he didn’t want to embarrass you if this truly was a thing, despite the horror of that reality only being thinly veiled by his expression. you turn around from the fridge, blinking a couple of times as the reality sets in. oh my god, you did.

“oh— it… was just a slip up. was talking to my dad earlier so it was just… in my head.” you stumble quietly, like you know you’ve been caught. rafe lifts his head as he turns back into the conversation, lips parted distractedly as he glances between the two of you.

“do you mind not interrogating my girlfriend? tryna do some work here.” he blinks irritably at his father for even bringing it up and you avert your eyes to the ground, humiliated.

“was just a question, son.” ward calmly gazed at rafe now, the attention off you. rafe stares back, and there seems to be a mutual understanding— a telepathic message being told to ‘mind your own business’.

“‘can call me what she wants.” rafe gets the final say before leaning on his elbows once more, turning his attention casually back to the paperwork. you can’t take the tension, and leave.

୭ 🤍 ✧ ˚. 🥛

#anon #rafe cameron prompt

670 notes · View notes

zaynesevol · 3 months

Note

Hiii !!

I really love your writings and i was wondering if i could request something :3? Zayne is sick and he's hiding it because he doesn't want to anyone to know and since he's a doctor, he thinks he can treat himself. But of course mc sees whats happening and they're taking care of zayne! Take your time if you accept this one :33 but its okay if you dont !

𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐂𝐊-𝐔𝐏!

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: you taking care of a sick zayne !

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒: fluff, zayne’s embarrassed about being sick, reader feels like they did something wrong, you end up taking care of zayne

𝐀/𝐍: this was such a cute request omg

lately, you’ve noticed that zayne has becoming a little distant. it makes you wonder, did i do something wrong?

i mean, who can blame you? whenever he doesn’t go to work he stays cooped up in his bedroom. for when he does, he’s instantly rushing to get out of your sight. it’s almost like he’s hiding something from you, but you don’t know what.

today, you’re determined to figure out what’s going on. you’re not letting him sneak away so easily this time.

you sit down on the couch awaiting his arrival. as soon as he comes home, you’re sure he’s just going to mutter a quick hi and dash to the bedroom.

over the past few days you’ve been a bit stressed about what’s going on. so, you tried a few searches but nothing seems to give you an answer.

why is my boyfriend ignoring me?

how to tell if your boyfriend is mad at you

reasons your boyfriend may be ignoring you

groaning as you shut your phone off, you hear the sound of his keys inserting into the lock and twisting. you shoot up from the couch, prepared to start interrogating the man.

when he enters the house, his immediately starts taking off his glasses, hanging his coat on the rack. he doesn’t even seem to notice the intense stare you’re giving him.

when he turns around, he jumps slightly. he wasn’t expecting you to be so close to him. now he sees you are, he grows a bit panicked. and you can tell he is.

“what’s going on with you?” you question, eyebrows furrowing with your crossed arms waiting for a response.

he chuckles, shaking his head. “there is nothing wrong, y/n. now, i really need to get to the room. there’s things i have to do.”

there it is. he’s trying to escape from you, again. you know damn well he doesn’t have to do anything, he’s just trying to get away from you!

“no you don’t! tell me now, why have you been avoiding me? is there something wrong? did i do something to upset you?” you’re throwing millions of questions at him at a time, and he only has the mental capacity to answer one.

“no, you didn’t do anything wrong. i just really need to go.” he replies, trying to head off before you grab his arm.

“please, if i did something just tell me. i’ve been worried sick about what’s going on, and you won’t let me know.”

he sighs, seeing your clear upset expression. he doesn’t want you feeling this way, but, he also wants to avoid any embarrassment from what he’s about to admit.

“fine. i’m…sick.” he admits, closing his eyes nervously so he can avoid seeing whatever type of reaction you have.

you can only gasp. there’s no way he was trying to hide the fact he was sick, you can only think, why?

“seriously? why didn’t you tell me? is that why you’ve been avoiding me?”

“i didn’t want to take the risk of getting you ill. the reason why i’ve been going to work less is because i’m actually going to appointments. i’m a doctor myself, so i was a bit humiliated to tell you about what i was feeling.” he admits, swallowing the lump in his throat.

“and for the reason you refuse to come out of your room?” you ask, demanding an answer.

“to be honest, i thought i’d be able to take care of myself.”

you instantly throw your arms around his neck, burying your face into his chest as you look up at him. “don’t ever do that again. okay? i’ll take care of you. no matter what happens.” you state, dragging him to your bedroom.

“that won’t be necessary. believe me, i don’t want you to waste any time trying to tend to someone who was too careless on avoiding getting sick.”

“and believe me, i won’t be leaving you alone like this anytime soon.” you retort, laying him down on the bed.

you bring out your phone, searching up, how do i take care of my sick boyfriend?

seeing the results, you immediately snatch the pillows from under his head and start fluffing them. he watches you with amusement, not understanding what you’re trying to accomplish, but he appreciates it.

“do you feel hot or cold?” you ask, needing this information to take on your next steps of helping him feel comfortable.

“cold.” hearing his answer, you immediately rush downstairs, preparing him some water and heating up something warm to place below his feet in order to warm him up.

after what seems to be around fifteen minutes, he hears your feet rushing upstairs to the room. he chuckles, wondering what type of mischief you caused while being downstairs.

when you open the door, he sees you cooked him his favorite meal along with numerous warm items to help him stay toasty.

“y/n, you didn’t have to do all of this.” he softly mutters, watching you prepare everything to help him recover.

“yes i did! it says this may help you recover fast!” he can only smile at your determination, feeling incredibly lucky on how he was able to fall in love with you before anyone else.

after a few minutes, he’s sighing in content.

“everything feels great. unfortunately, there’s only one thing i don’t have that would certainly help me get better way faster.” you perk up, wondering what crucial thing zayne needs in order to make him feel better.

“what is it?”

“you next to me.” hearing his answer, you giggle, sliding into the bed right next to him, laying your head on his chest as he sticks an arm around you.

“you do realize you have a high chance of catching what i have, right?”

“yeah, but it’ll be worth it. as long as you’re here with me.”

#love and deep space #love and deepspace #love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace x you #zayne love and deepspace #zayne x you #zayne x reader #zayne #zayne fluff #zayne x y/n #dr zayne #lads #lnds #꒰ঌ zayne works

450 notes · View notes

matenrou-fan · 1 year

Note

ueueuehehehehehe barbatos tailfucking the reader. like holding them with his hands and using his tail to fuck both holes *smiles* and like overstimming them too (fem reader if so 🙏🏼🙏🏼) -rei boobie anon

Barbatos tailfucking fem! s/o + overstimulation

omg you said that he needs to hold the reader and everything but I get a little bit carried away while writing this.. Hope it's okay.. <3

femreader, teasing, begging, humiliation, overstimulation, semi public sex, rough sex, slut shaming, oral (giving), double penetration, Master/pet relationship;; 3026 words;;

NFSW UNDER THE CUT

;MINORS DNI;

The way Barbatos touches you clearly reflects his whole personality - playful, almost weightless, and always so confusing, as you never can say if it was an accidental brush of his hand on your body that feels too intimate or he just teases you, maybe even torturing you with these games.. Every time you visit Demon Lord's Castle he approaches you too rarely to actually make you aroused but too often for you to not pay attention to light strokes of his arms that just knows where and how to tickle to make you bite lips. Yet today..

Today was some kind of special occasion, indeed. One of the casual tea parties that Diavolo loves to make so it's easy to run away from his responsibilities and paperwork but today his loyal servant finally accepted the offer to join you all and also relax. And oh what a miracle, the only empty chair was near you?!

But the fact that Barbatos also would just drink tea with you all didn't bother or even surprise you that much, before.. Before you choke on the silver spoon in your mouth, suddenly feel the cold leather of his gloves on your thighs.

"S/o..? Are you alright?!"

"Strange, I make sure that there's no Solomon's cooking this time, why did you choke on this strawberry pie?"

"Mm? And how can my cooking be related to this..?"

Ah, everyone around you is so worried, almost jumping from their places to pat your back and help you. When the hero of the occasion keeps drinking his tea, absolutely enjoying your blushing face and this awkward laugh as you try to calm everyone.. While his hand already lifts your skirt, caressing naked skin here.

"S/o, is everything okay? Maybe I should lend a helping hand for you too?" - he finally turns to look you right in the eyes just to get even more amused by your adorable reaction, as you're really trying to keep your voice calm. The moment your eyes meet, Barbatos just moves his fingers forward, tickling inner thighs oh so close to your panties.

"Yes, yes, I'm alright.." - and despite you wanting to hint with a glance to stop you have no idea how… Everyone around is still looking.

"Good." - He takes off your panties.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

Well, maybe you shouldn't have given a damn about everyone else as now things get even harder to hide.

For a moment you thought he would just tease you with his hand for the whole tea party, but then his tail appeared. And it was much worse than his fingers can be. One tip of it was slowly sliding up and down, titillating your folds, when the other one pressed to your clit, drawing small circles in a sensitive place.

All you can do is just eat more than usual to muffle your gasp in another bite of cake. How good Mammon was also here, in his casual goofy mood that Lucifer hated so much, making everyone around laugh. And you laugh too, trying to hide your whines and sobs under the mask of a strong fit of laughter, eyes already red and watering when you act like you finally controlled the spasms.. Oh if they all know what exactly spasms you try to control..!

Will you be able to hold yourself for the whole evening? Your hand slides down to squeeze Barbatos' knee, not in the attempt to tease him too but to warn him, warn that it's starting to be unbearable. Even when you tried to control your breath he was hearing your small gasps and whimpers, and quickly found just the right pace to rub your clit while his other tip played with the clenching entrance of your pussy, not thrusting inside, just tickling, making you be the one who wants to feel more. And you were afraid you would not have enough strength to not just start moaning out loud.

"Mm.. This time it was much more funny than usual.." - Simeon smiles, and you just now notice that everyone has already finished their tea, and the party is getting to finish.

"Oh yes! The fact that Barbatos was with us this time as a friend and not as my servant was making everything better..!" - a loud laugh of the Lord thundered across the table, but you almost didn't hear him, more concentrated on the heat between your thighs that made you cross your legs. Are you on edge now..?

"I don't think my presence change anything, but your words flattered me, my Lord.." - with a slight nod Barbatos keeps looking at everyone but not you.

"Hehe.. But do you remember that you still need to prepare rooms for our dear guest to stay overnight?"

"Of course. I will return to my work immediately." - maybe no one heard this, but you clearly notice some sight mockery in his tone. And of course this mockery was addressed to you, as at the same time all touches stopped and his tail quickly pulled away.

You whine, this time not even carrying how loud you can be, as your pussy was still throbbing, asking, begging for just a few touches before blissful release..

"I'm no less disappointed than you are, s/o.." - Lucifer furrowed his brow, looking at his boss. - "You probably should tell us that you're planning an overnight stay a little bit earlier..?"

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

Never in your life have you experienced a more hard time than this evening. All this activity with the demon brother in Castle just annoys you, as you still keep returning to these moments with Barbatos, almost feeling the ghost of his touches on your warm skin all over again.

But this sinful servant just knows how to make you struggle even more, not even showing near you for the whole time, too busy with his responsibilities. And it was both good and bad, cause despite you yearning to see him again you also were afraid that you would just melt in the same second you see him again.

And only when everyone calls it night and goes into a different room, whining about how lucky Belphegor and Simeon are to spend the night in the same place with you, only then he approaches you again, catching you all alone in the darkness of the corridor.

"It seems that I left my poor darling right at the most interesting moment.."

"You did it on purpose..!" - you whisper, fighting the urge to just cling to him right here, but the shine in his bright green eyes tells you to not even try.

"Am I? Then please, meet me in my room tonight.." - leaning closer but only with his shoulders, still not touching your body, Barbatos whispers in your ear, hitting the core of your mind with goosebumps. - "I'm ready to fix my bad attitude.."

"But how I can-" - you mumble under your breath but he's already gone, almost faded away, leaving you all confused again.

Just HOW you still tolerate such unfair teases? Probably because you start to be addicted to these intoxicating games that always leave you with a light head and warm wetness in panties. Not even Lucifer with his playful flirting can make you feel the same thing that this side servant that is always in the background, hiding in the shadows, can. And you love that.

Well, maybe this whole sleepover was also just part of his plan, and the fact that you get in a room with two pretty peaceful guys was maybe also just his little touch.. Cause Belphie just fall asleep immediately, before you even enter the room, and Simeon, trying to act as quiet as possible to not awake him, also quickly get drowsy.

Just an hour, and you were absolutely sure these two wouldn't notice you go away. Well, maybe not 'just an hour', as every minute was like a torture for you, especially when you realize you would probably receive something more very soon.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

"Oh my. So I really picked your interest today, am I?"

You just whine as a response, melting in his arms the very second you crossed the threshold of Barbatos' room. Clinging to him with your whole body, you grasp his shoulders, waiting to feel his touch again, but his hands don't even move from your waist, and the whole hug feels… kinda stiff.

Oh, do you really think everything would be so easy? When you look up at him all you can see is a wild smirk, as your lover was absolutely amused with such pathetic needy gaze. One arm pat your head as he pulls away from you.

"Barbatos, why-"

"On your knees."

Not even any second thought as you already dropped on the floor, sitting in front of him. From such an angle his devilish face looks even more hypnotizin and you whine, both from shame and arousal.

But he just looks at you for a few seconds, before walking away and sitting in his bed, calling you with a beckoning sign. Oh, and of course he wouldn't even try to hide how much he enjoys your trembling figure as you quickly get closer on all fours. Like his own little pet..

For a moment you just look at each other in absolute silence, before he leans a little, resting his elbow on his knee:

"Do I really need to say that? I thought you were pretty smart to understand that good girls get rewards only after they ask nicely.."

"But.. Barbatos.."

"Mm, and I thought you got here for something more than just to show me how pathetic you look in such a pose.."

Digging your nails in the carpet, you sobs, as your face starts heating up. Of course you know when he plays and when not, and now you're absolutely sure you will receive nothing if you wouldn't beg.

"Barbatos, please.. Please, just touch me again.." - your small whine makes him chuckle and he nodded approvingly, waiting for more. - "I don't even ask for fucking, just touching.. Please.."

"Oh, how pitiful.." - your lover sighs, and despite his smile still on his face, the tone of his mocking voice was disinterested.

"No, really.. Barb- Master.." - you lean closer, clinging to his legs. - "Master, please.. I'll do anything.."

"That's better.."

Finally, FINALLY he touched you, spreading your legs roughly with the toes of his shoes as his tail quickly slid under your skirt, pressing onto the sticky fabric of your panties, that was absolutely soaked in your juices.

"Lift it up." - his gaze drops on your clothes and you quickly obey, too excited to finally get the right attention. Pulling your shirt up, you take it in your mouth, revealing your bra, while hands lifting the hem of your skirt.

"Oh, you decided to show me your whole body? Then go on, take everything off.." - still with a mocking tone, Barbatos surveyed your naked skin with the same calm gaze. ..did he even aroused or not? Or is it just a very twisted game for him, to humiliate you more?

But you don't care, as the main thing for you is that his tails already move your panties aside and start stroking your hot, trembling pussy again. Still holding your skirt with one hand, you tried to unhook your bra, as he ordered, but it was too hard, too hard when all your already small thoughts completely disappeared, leaving you with an empty head.

"What's wrong? Few touches are enough for you to get so useless?" - Barbatos sighs, leaning down and taking off your shirt along with the bra in one movement. - "Never thought what a dirty slut you are, letting a man treat you like this?"

The way his voice quickly changes from light mockery to straightforward insults just makes your stomach tickle. And this absolutely cold gaze on your blushing face and sweaty body just makes everything worse.. It's amazing how he can keep such a collected face when his tails are literally rubbing against you like that, one in front, teasing your folds, when another tip slowly creeps to your ass, tickling a tight hole. Another high pitched whine burst out of your lips but he quickly shut you up, grasping your chin.

"If you want to keep your mouth open, then at least use it properly.." - with such commentary he forces you lean closer, pressing your face to his crotch. Warmth of his hard dick that was felt even through fabric sends shivers down your spine and you let go of your skirt, instead trying to unzip his pants.

Not even trying to help you this time, Barbatos just keeps watching your weak attempts to do it, feeling just how much your hands tremble when brushing against his bulge. All he does is just keep telling how you demean yourself with such useless behavior. Oh, he's too harsh? But his tails also have nerves and he clearly can tell how much your both holes are clenching from his merciless comments, begging to be finally stretched out. But it's not the right time yet.

Only when his cock finally slaps your face, revealing from his pants, he grabs your hair again, controlling the pace with you licking his whole length. And only when Barbatos starts forcing his dick inside your mouth, his tails thrust inside you in one moment, making you moan right on his skin, tickling glans with vibration of your throat.

"Is it actually so good, to be fucked in all your holes? Well, why I'm asking.. Sluts like you love such things, don't you?" - even after his breath gets heavier from your hot tongue around his cock, your lover keeps mocking you.

Mock your sloppy movements, mock you for being so wet that he doesn't even need to prepare you, already pushing his tail deep inside you, mock you for choking around his cock and think about your own pleasure, not his, just mock and mock you every second. But your face with furrowed, twitching brows and muffled moans just tells him that you're absolutely enjoying it.

His darkened eyes now were filled with more lust, as he enjoyed every thrust of your mouth in just the right pace that he controlled all by himself, still pulling your hairs with his tight grip. For a moment Barbatos presses your head to his hips again, making you choke on the thick base of his cock and just stop, admiring your hazy eyes, full of tears.

"Such a good, whorish pet.. You want to cum, don't you?"

All you can do is whine and nod just a little, begging with your gaze instead of words. Oh, and of course with your hips that keep bouncing up and down on two tips that now speed up, moving in one aggressive rhythm. This mind shattering feeling of double filling was so new but already so pleasant to you, both your tight holes tremble from the rough resistance of his tails. God, of course you want to cum now.

"That's it.. Only dirty whores will cum when all their tree holes are stretched like this, so go on and show me how slutty you are for your master.."

The same rough wild speed that titillates you down here now was wrecking your mouth too, and you just closed your eyes, surrendering utterly to the pleasure. But a rough pull on your hair makes you gasp and open it again, just to see the smirking face of your lover.

"Did I give you permission? Look your Master in the eyes like a good and obedient pet.." - a low chuckle sends shivers down your spine and he suddenly starts to slow down. - "Or you enjoy when I throw you away in the most delightful moment?"

You shake your head a little and keep sucking his dick, begging with every move to not stop, to not stop right now, when your legs start trembling so much you barely can sit like that and not fall down, your thighs tried to squeeze together but his boots still were forcing you open, spreading your legs..

Just a few more rough, merciless thrust and you moan around his dick, sending more vibrations all over his sensitive skin while orgasm finally hits you. Your whole body freezes and if not his hand on your head you would probably stop sucking, as all other muscles in your body tensed up, concentrating in your burning pussy that now clenched tight around his tail. Your vision is blurry and you can only see Barbatos' smirk and deep dominating gaze, and it just makes these waves of pleasure inside you hit your core even harder.

Still pushing your head up and down, he admires such a pathetic view of your cumming face, absolutely enjoying your hot walls and their pressure. Just how much tighter you would be when he would pound into you with much thicker length..? This thoughts makes him bite lip as he also get too close to the edge, showing his dick deep in your throat.

"Keep your mouth like that.. Let's use your throat for its only one declared purposes.."

With these words Barbatos come too, burning your inner skin with thick hot sperm. Oh, and of course as a good pet you will keep sucking, milking him to the very end as sticky liquid running down into your stomach. Only now you were able to hear more of his groans and gasps, but not that much.. After all, if you want to hear more of his delightful deep sounds then you should work even harder now.

And of course he gives you this opportunity, pulling away your head to undress himself completely.

"On a bed, now. If you continue being so obedient, then I'll let you stay here for the whole night, pet.."

#barbatos smut #barbatos x reader #barbatos x you #obey me barbatos #om barbatos #barbatos obey me #Barbatos obey me smut #obey me barbatos x reader #obey me barbatos smut #obey me #smut obey me #obey me smut #obey me x reader smut #obey me x you #obey me x reader #obey me imagines

2K notes · View notes

kurogxrix · 11 months

Note

omg stark!reader n Peter in stark tower flirting and tony teases them (hopefully mutual pining and like they haven’t confessed to each other yet)

Dedicate Your Heart

Peter Parker x Stark!reader

A/N: reader can be seen as Tony’s biological or adopted daughter :)

“To your left Spider-Man!” had been the last thing that Peter had heard before getting shoved to the side, quite painfully so be the stack of boxes that you had been carrying. The tower of cardboard threatened you with a stagger as you bumped into Peter, before peacefully settling back in place.

Despite it being a mid saturday morning, you found yourself in your father’s lab instead of in the comfort of your dear room. Though you’d already agreed to help him, so there was no way you could turn back on him now. Admitively you weren’t here totally by your own will, you’d solely done it because Tony had teased you about being some edgy teenager that sticks in her room all day. And while you were, admitting with no shame that staying slumped on your bed while blasting some old school rock through your headphones was definitely a vibe, you decided to prove to your dad that there were many other things that you could do to render that brain of yours utile.

It wasn’t like your father was a stranger to your accomplishments, far from that.

Setting the boxes down on the countertop, you couldn’t help the heavy groan that escaped your mouth. You didn’t have super strength like most of the other people living in the tower, and damn could a few boxes make your backache go crazy. Nevertheless, throughout your struggle, you failed to notice the way that a certain curly haired brunette had his eyes stuck on you for the duration of your time here.

Peter had not even said anything after you had brutally (in his dictionary. You’d argue and say that it was playfully) shoved him away with your boxes. Instead, his eyes lingered on your form. He nearly had to slap himself after his iris laid on your torso for a little too long, but could you blame him?

The skin-tight black tank top that you often wore while working in the lab was just so attractive to Peter.

He watched as the shirt slid up a couple of inches as you stretched, exposing a sliver of your stomach and rippling the muscles in your arms. Sure you weren’t as bulky as Thor yet alone Hulk, but fighting crime alongside the avengers and training with them did flatter your physique. God, Peter was sure that he must’ve been drooling by now. What a fool.

“You want a picture too or are you too busy engraving the sight in your mind?” your voice shook Peter out of his stance, a bright red colour raising upon the back of his neck as you caught him checking you out red handed. The sole sound of your assertive tone had him doubling over, at least in his head, because he could avoid being humiliated furthermore.

“Hey, wasn’t it you that chose my outfit for our last gala? Heard from a little birdie that it was because you thought i’d look handsome in it?” Peter retaliated, though his voice held more diffidence than yours did. You froze upon his admission, the metallic parts of the gadget that you were working on released a loud ‘thud’ as it came down to hit against the countertop. You winced at the sound, internally cursing your mother figure, Pepper, for exposing your secret.

It was true though, and there was no point in denying it now that it was out in the open. You could still remember the exact moment that Tony had informed you all about some gala that you had to attend alongside him, some rich guy thing. Although you protested, he insisted. So that’s how you’d ended up in this position, having to choose a partner that was actually your age to accompany you there. It wasn’t that you necessarily needed one so badly, but every other avenger already had someone to accompany them, but the age gap between yourself and the rest of your team already made you feel sort of excluded in most things, so bringing a date it was.

Beyond everyone else, your first thought was to ring Peter up and ask him about it. After all, he was perfect for the job. He already knew your father and he was always so enthusiastic for whatever journey you’d reserve for him. Only problem was, well…Peter was broke. So given that you were the daughter of a billionaire, you might’ve as well dressed him up. Though as soon as you thought about Peter in a specific suit, you felt your brain short circuiting in awe.

It took you a moment to recover from your lone embarrassment. How could the mere thought of a man get you so riled up? It was those kinds of questions that you’d always bring up to yourself when it came to Peter, and on that night, you came to the fact that you might’ve had feelings for the boy. Naturally, as a teenage girl, you would’ve firstly ran to your phone to text your friends about it. Though you ran short on these, being a Stark, you knew how people could get once they indulged in another’s’ money and clout. The ideas of having friends apart from the avengers had completely been wiped clean out of your mind after a few failed attempts.

You thought about telling Natasha, and as much as you loved the older woman, you dreaded the way she’d tease you if you ever opened up about your feelings for a certain Spider-man. So, telling your mother it was.

“My mom is such a snitch.” you mumbled under your breath, supposedly to yourself but the chuckle that escaped Peter told you that it came out a little

louder than expected. The lab was relatively quiet after that, other than the sounds of you piecing things together and Peter’s loud thinking as he made a virtual maquette of what he was planning. To the both of you, the secret glances that you were exchanging might’ve gone over your heads, but not to a certain billionaire playboy that stood by the elevator door. Well scratch that, ex-playboy.

Once again, the lab was quiet. Almost too quiet for it to be containing the both of you teens in there, Tony thought to himself. He was no stranger to Peter’s feelings towards you, neither were the other avengers, nor yourselves at that. The flirting was nothing new to the obscene things that the poor heros were bound to see, and it was almost too much for them to handle. It was like a constant war between teammates that was happening in the tower. One side would agree with the fact that you were both oblivious to each other’s feelings, while the other half believed that you were both very aware, but undeniable cowards when it came to outwardly confessing.

Your dad fell in the team of people who believed that you both knew you liked each other. How could he not? He had to suffer through your endless flirting and playful banners everyday. Plus, he knew admiration when he saw it. He is Tony Stark after all, he’d received many lovestruck looks in his youth, and they’d only multiplied as he aged.

Amidst his work, Peter couldn’t concentrate for any longer with the amount of noise that you were causing. Your patience ran short as you tried to forcefully shove a metal piece against another, not understanding why it wasn’t fitting together. One look at you and he could tell that you were frustrated. Your creased eyebrows, that slightly disgusted look that you wore on your face, it all told the same exact story. Narrated through your eyes that were piercing daggers at the poor gadget before you, Peter knew better than to just leave you alone. Mainly because he feared for the poor object, a woman’s wrath is not to be played with.

“I mean, kiss me if i’m right but, this piece most definitely goes here.” Peter took the piece from your hand, startling you slightly as he appeared out of thin air. His words rang inside your head for a second, the thoughts of kissing Peter making you feel dizzy after so long of chasing one another. The endless nights spent awake just to text Peter and the amount of time that you’d sneak out just to meet up with the curly haired boy. It all meant more than it would let off, and that was much considering nearly everyone thought you two were already dating.

You allowed Peter to take the segment of your father’s work from your hands, placing it in a slot that was laid idiotically close to the one that you were trying to force it in. Without hesitation, you hurriedly plugged in the machine, and with enthusiasm, you watched as your father’s project lit up successfully.

In the midst of everything, Peter could barely makeout that time that it had taken you to turn around and engulf him in your embrace. Warm and familiar arms welcoming him as they latched behind his neck, he nearly doubled back at your force.

“I’d kiss you but that’d just destroy everything that we’ve built throughout these years now, wouldn’t it?” you bat your eyelashes up at him, the side of your face flushed against his chest as Peter looked down at you with those doe eyes of his. You could’ve sworn that it wasn’t you that was trying to soften him with that sweet look, but quite the inverse.

You both indulged in the moment, guilty of relishing the other with nothing else but your eyes. Though what lied in your iris told another story than one that’s platonic, your mouths just couldn’t allow yourselves to confess. It wasn’t that you both were oblivious to the other’s feelings, you both just feared the change of dynamic that’d come with altering this relationship into a romantic one.

You feared that your teasing texts would turn into unceasingly mushy ones. And Peter feared that if anything bad was to happen between you two, he’d lose you forever, even as a friend. Though you both were young and understanding, you set asid the thought of making anything official for now.

As you continued to stare into Peter’s eyes, you couldn’t help but lean further into him, closer up. He reciprocated your motion, pupils never straying away from your own as his breath hitched under the circumstances. Sure you weren’t ready for a relationship with Peter now, but what harm was there with a little kiss? You could always be all up in eachothers faces one day and fist-bump like highschool best-friends on the other.

“Oh and cut it to the wedding scene already, we’ve been through too much foreplay!” there came the clap of his hands before his words, and soon was your father’s cover blown. You both froze at the teasing tone of his voice, familiar so, it was impossible to escape the Stark banter. You almost scoffed audibly before remembering the position that you were currently in. Peter felt his heartstrings being tugged at once he felt you parting away from him, but yet again, you guys were nothing more than just friends.

The rise of crimson colour upon Peter’s cheeks was a cute sight to see, and admitively you’d spend more time admiring him in his flustered state, but for now, you had an irritated attitude to put on for your father.

“For how long have you been stalking us, old man?” you rolled your eyes at your father, crossing your arms above your torso as you stared him down. The smirk that played on Tony’s face irked you, and you wanted nothing more than Pepper walking in and telling him off. God only knows how much a husband fears his wife, and Tony more than feared his own. He laughed shortly, throwing his head back as though you had said the funniest thing ever heard by men. Peter just stood there in all of his awkwardness, moving his head to gaze at your father and you relentlessly like some cartoon character.

“Long enough to know that your little flirting in my lab is disgusting, get your own to do that crap over there.” he responded sarcastically, a Tony Stark trait.

“I was not flirting with your daughter, Mr Stark!” Peter retaliated nervously, his words coming out faster than his mind could comprehend. He felt even more stressed as he watched his superior stare him down with an amused expression on, feigning comprehension before opening that mouth of his once more.

“Right and that explains why you were just about to kiss her? Cmon kids, I was anything but born yesterday.” Tony laughed at you both once more, and clearly, he was enjoying this way more than the two of you.

Before any of you have the time to respond, your father was already on his way out. With his back facing towards you, he plucked his iconic sunglasses from the pocket of pants, the arc reactor peeking through the fabric of his thin summer shirt.

“Be sure to be safe, your kids could end up just like my lovely daughter, and I'm sure none of you guys are ready for this!” your father turned around swiftly to wink playfully at you, sending the pair of you finger guns as he walked backwards towards the elevator. Lord, how much did you wish for him to slip and break his saunter, but a man such as Tony was too smooth in his ways. With the humiliation of his words running thick through your veins, and your head in your hands in shame, you’d promised yourself that you’d get your revenge on your dear father. Somewhat, someday.

The sound of the elevator’s ‘ting’ sent relief coursing throughout Peter and you, now that your father is gone, you’d have to deal with the other situation at hand.

“We weren’t flirting right? Just talking as friends?” Peter nervously rambled as soon as you turned back around to face him. His words were the opposite of what he wanted, of course he wanted you both to flirt as more than friends, but he didn’t want to scare you if anything. His hand was itching a spot behind his neck, where nothing irritated him, it was just an anxious habit that he had. Trying to surpass a chuckle, you sauntered your way towards the brunette.

Peter’s eyes widened comically as you raised a hand towards him, and his thoughts ran wild with anticipation. Was this it? Were you finally going to surpass this fear of commitment and just kiss him? His shoulders dropped visibly when your hand came to remove his own from his neck, saving him from the rash that he was bound to develop after itching the same spot repetitively like he always did.

Peter’s heart did an nearly audible ‘oh’ in disappointment. Though on the outside, he was all shiny smiles and full set of teeth on display. He was ready to move past what you had, but if you couldn’t meet him halfway, how could he act on it?

Peter observed with keen eyes as you walked back to your spot, sending a curt notice to F.R.I.D.A.Y, asking to press play on your playlist.

Suddenly, Peter’s disappointment was replaced with something else. With dedication, perhaps. He vowed to make a change in what you had by the end of this year, promising himself to prove to you that maybe a relationship with him wasn’t so bad. That you could work things out like two responsible people if anything were to happen. He just urged to get a taste of you, of what it was like to wake up and be more than just your best bud.

i wrote this with a swollen thumb and i half-asleep mind so please don’t judge😭

#peter parker x reader #peter parker #spiderman #spiderman x trader #tom holland x reader #stark!reader #mcu!peter x reader #mcu!peter parker #peter parker fluff #peter parker oneshot #peter parker x stark!reader #tony stark x daughter!reader

1K notes · View notes

httpsserene · 5 months

Text

𝖍𝖙𝖙𝖕𝖘𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖊𝖓𝖊’𝖘 1𝖐 𝖘𝖕𝖊𝖈𝖎𝖆𝖑 - 𝖙𝖗𝖆𝖈𝖐 𝖑𝖎𝖒𝖎𝖙𝖘

𝐞𝐩𝐢𝐬𝐨𝐝𝐞 𝐭𝐰𝐨: 𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫

summary: slightly less innocent, virgin!reader has had her view of pleasure shifted. her libido has increased to insane levels after she finally allowed her boyfriends to fix her…dry spell. charles and max have no issues with helping her ride out her newfound sexual appetite, and figure that she may be ready to take the next step. or, more accurately, take the next hand. content warning: 18+ only. explicit. no penetrative sex. corruption kink. handjobs. thigh riding. praise kink. dom/sub undertones. charles leclerc is a brat. orgasm denial. there's smidge of humor in here somewhere i think. slight humiliation kink. word count: 4.2k words pairing: charles leclerc / max verstappen x fem!black!reader soundtrack: gun • doja cat

preface: AHHHH OMG I HAD THIS IN MY QUEUE AND THE DATE WAS 9/12 INSTEAD OF 12/9 I WAS IN THE WOODS WITH SPOTTY CONNECTION ALL DAY AND I HAVE TBLR NOTIFICATIONS OFF ON MY PHONE I AM SO SORRY I HOPE YOU ALL LIKE IT! ALL FUTURE EPISODES WILL BE POSTED AT 12 PM ON THEIR RELEASE DAYS!

prev 1k special join taglist feedback & requests table of contents next ↻

it’s laughable. you can’t believe that you almost bought a vibrator instead of telling your boyfriends that you were ready to start the sexual aspect of your relationship. actually, it kind of makes you mad—you could’ve been experiencing the most mind blowing levels of pleasure years ago, if you had just gotten over your own insecurity.

max and charles had been dating each other for a couple years before they found you. you were a friend-of-a-friend-of-a-friend, and they were enamored with you as soon as they were introduced. you cringe whenever they reminisce over the first time you met them—the men think it’s the cutest first meeting ever.

they met you on a yacht in monaco. an older member of the ferrari team was retiring and decided to have a relaxed celebratory brunch on a chartered yacht. charles, of course, would be attending; he’s sure he’s most likely contractually obligated to go, but he also enjoys going to these sorts of events, he flourishes and thrives in social settings. however, on this particular day, max and charles had already planned for a date.

when charles had been forwarded the invitation from andrea (his trainer), who had texted him threats of bodily harm if he didn’t show up—he whined and groveled to max about having to reschedule their date. max had shushed charles’ dramatics, and simply pulled out his phone to show a text thread between him and brad (his trainer), who sent him the invitation to the yacht party. charles made a noise of surprise; this brunch is more relaxed than he thought. max shrugged and pressed a kiss to charles cheek–all they have to do is make an appearance, greet who needs to be greeted, congratulate who needs to be congratulated, and then they can sneak away and leave early for their date.

that was the plan. and everything seemed to be going according to the plan. they had boarded the vessel (nobody knew the rivals had come together), everyone assumed they had just arrived at the same time. they quickly congratulated the retiree, and charles separated from max to go and charm everybody on the boat, while max had gone to take advantage of the brunch spread.

the dutchman was halfway through his second plate of finger food when charles had returned to his side, bringing their trainers and a few engineers along with him. the monegasque was stealing bites of food off his plate, and max gently tapped on the face of his richard mille watch to remind charles that they needed to start wrapping up.

except, joris had just boarded the yacht—and you were at his side.

charles choked on his bite of stolen food, and max distractedly patted his back to clear his airways. it was like time slowed down, their vision tunneled, and the noise of conversations around them quieted; at the sight of you. you were wearing this light, flowy, orange sundress that complimented your warm brown skin, accessorized with gold jewlery, a pair of heeled tan sandals, and your curly hair was free and blowing in the breeze. you kept your gaze lowered, like you were fearing making eye contact with anybody on board, and you turned to slightly hide behind joris as you frantically whispered to him.

charles and max had decided then and there; they need to know you.

you had parted from joris at the sound of someone calling for you and the sight of you walking away, broke the trance the two drivers had been under.

when charles’ friend made his way over, they were quick to interrogate him about you, and why exactly he’s never introduced you to them before. joris threatened them before he gave them permission to pursue you (not that they needed it), and refused to answer any of their questions about you. he told them to go talk to you, and warned them to be gentle with you—as you have a more shy and introverted personality. it took nearly thirty minutes for charles and max to find where you disappeared too. you were chatting to the retiree, and as soon as you wrapped up the conversation—max inserted himself in your path, and ‘accidentally’ bumped into you.

you stumbled briefly, finding yourself bumping into charles as well. you frantically apologized to the two drivers, eyes wide with embarrassment—and max and charles found themselves vehemently reassuring you that it was their fault, and that you don’t need to apologize.

once you calmed, max started to test the waters.

“it was completely my fault. i should’ve been paying more attention to where i was walking but, i got distracted—because you look too beautiful in this dress.”

your mouth parted in surprise and you giggled awkwardly, not expecting the compliment (charles had to muffle his snort, max is incredibly corny), “oh! thank you—it’s really the dress that’s beautiful.”

the monegasque stepped in, “ah, no that cannot be. the dress only compliments how pretty you are.”

you hummed, eyes flickering between the two of them nervously, and caved to their flattery.

“mmm, thank you…the orange works with my skin tone pretty well.”

“it does,” max agreed with a soft smile, “i must be your favorite driver—since, you’ve dressed in dutch orange.”

your eyes widened, as you giggled at his bold claim, laughing harder when charles’ pretends to be angry at max’s words. the couple watches as your smile shifted from something sweet, to something teasing as you fumbled over what to say in response.

“oh? well, if i did dress for my favorite driver, it would be lando norris. because, this color is more similar to papaya than your dutch orange.”

max scoffed, and charles bursted out laughing—the two of them not expecting the teasing from you, based on how joris led them to believe that you were the shyest thing to walk on earth.

that interaction had completely cemented their urge to date you. they ended up staying at the yacht party, just talking to you the entire time, enjoying making you blush and fluster, flirting around the limits of how much affection you could take from them. they missed their dinner reservation, but found themselves taking you out to dinner somewhere near the waterfront.

at the end of the night, you exchanged phone numbers with them and they sweetly told you that they’d reach out to you for a second date. you had made a noise of surprise, completely disbelieving that you were on a date, or that they’d want to see you again. but, charles and max were quick to make their intentions clear as they realized they may have been moving too quickly for you.

you can’t believe that was over two years ago. the boys had been so kind with working hard for your trust, and with a final conversation about how this relationship would work—you had agreed to be their girlfriend. of course, you had your stipulation of not being ready to have sex, but the boys did take that in stride and didn’t try to coerce you into changing that boundary. matter of fact, they had even offered to stop having sex between the two of them if it made you uncomfortable—which you disagreed with on the spot; they didn’t need to limit their actions with each other just because you needed extra time.

and extra time, ended up being two years. charles and max had waited two years without complaining once, about the fact that you still weren’t ready to have sex with them. apparently, the final aspects that you needed to realize you were ready to have sex were: being unable to get yourself off for a month while they were in the midst of a triple header…and also that, you trust them with your entire soul.

and goddamn, did their patience result in a valuable reward.

ever since max and charles had cured your dry spell by giving you the most life-changing orgasm from riding max’s thigh, you’ve been insatiable.

it’s like your horny-meter was struck by lightning and was overloaded and stuck at the highest setting—it feels like a perpetual ovulation week. it feels like you can’t look at max’s thighs without getting wet, it feels like you can’t hold charles’ hand without your knees buckling. it wasn’t like you were never horny before the thigh-riding incident (max finds the title hilarious), but to be consistently desperate—you’ve never felt like this before. it’s like the monegasque and the dutchman have awoken your sex drive and shifted it into high gear. your libido has been so insanely high that the men have pretty much offered themselves to you as free-use.

you wake up horny? choose your fighter: charles’ thigh or max’s thigh. you get turned on by charles kissing your cheek? ride his thigh. your tummy knots up when max calls you pretty girl? ride his thigh. your panties get wet when charles comes back from getting a haircut? ride his thigh. your clothes fall off when max smiles at you? ride his thigh. your brain turns to mush when charles and max make out? ride their thighs, twice.

you’ve been so pleasure-crazed that you ended up getting a friction burn from how often you were using their thighs.

you whimpered in shame as charles rubbed aloe vera on the irritated skin between your legs.

“vior (see)?” charles said to max, who was sitting on the bed next to you holding your hand, “she has sensitive skin—we should not have let her use our thighs so often.”

“ah,” max dismissed, ignoring your mortified whine, he smirked at charles, “she’s just learned how good we can make her feel—forgive her desperation, schatje?”

charles lightly presses on the inflamed skin, and you slightly hiss in pain. he stares at max with an unimpressed expression,

“and now feeling good too often has her feeling bad, non?”

charles resumed his gentle massage of aloe vera, as he continued to bicker with max about you, like you weren’t lying right there. mortification had the melanated skin of your cheeks flushing with a visible blush, and you muffled your embarrassed whimper into max’s thigh. the humiliation of your boyfriends discussing your barely-sex related injury as if you aren’t present should have been horny-level reduction material—but secretly, you enjoyed it; just a little bit.

with a pained gasp, you slammed your thighs shut around charles’ hand when he passed over a more seriously-raw area of skin. his hand was forced up, and it brushed firmly against your cunt—and that previously pained gasp transformed into a moan of pleasure. the conversation around you silenced abruptly. you kept your eyes tightly shut, refusing to pull away from the safe haven of max’s thigh. you heard charles laugh disbelievingly, and with his free hand he easily pulled your thighs apart with little effort. the casual show of strength only had you getting wet.

he made a show of flexing the hand that was entrapped between your thighs, before he dropped two of his fingers on top of your panties and guided them to circle over your clit through the thin cloth. your eyes flew open, and with a squeal your hips bucked up to chase his hand; but he was too quick, and pulled away, using that same hand to hold your hips down on the bed.

“you’re so horny that you completely forgot about the friction-burn you have on your thighs from your previously extremely horny activities,” max deadpanned, staring down at you with a blank expression.

“i can’t help it,” you murmured shyly, “sorry.”

“don’t apologize,” max stated, releasing his grasp of your hand to brush his thumb across your cheek, “nothing’s touching your cunt for a week.”

“huh? WHAT? why? no—why not?” you blurted out in confusion, ignoring charles’ snort.

“liefje—you could barely handle charles rubbing the gel into your skin; you are too sore and inflamed. no pillows, no hands, no thighs.”

you humphed, knowing max is right, but not wanting to admit it.

“that’s torture! i just started getting to experience real pleasure and now i can’t even cum for a week?!” you whined up at max with pleading eyes.

“you went without using our thighs for two years—you can handle a week, mon coeur,” charles patted your hip with an annoying smile, before he climbed off the bed to put the gel away.

“charles, don’t tease her,” max sighed, “it’s just a week, pretty girl. you’ll be fine.”

you are not fine.

it’s the slowest time has ever passed in your entire life. honestly, the nerve of your boyfriends to have beautifully muscled thighs around you. you’ve been put in horny jail–seriously! the two men seem to have a radar for whenever you start to get turned on. no matter how hard you try to suppress any changes in your body language or facial expression, they sus you out in a few seconds. it’s uncanny; before you even open your mouth to try and persuade them into anything, they squish your cheeks together and say, “not yet,” and then walk away to give you space to calm down. every instance of this in the first couple of days was more mortifying than the aloe-vera gel application situation (which max now applies for you since charles couldn’t refrain from teasing you), but you quickly became desensitized.

max will not budge. he lets you whine, grovel, beg, promise, and plead. he sits through your whole monologue of desperation on day four, and smiles the entire time. when you finish your expertly delivered request to be allowed one orgasm from his thigh, he pats you on the ass and walks away. the amount of rage that filled you was probably unhealthy–how the fuck does he manage to be so unfazed?

charles, on the other hand, you could break. on day five, you trapped him in bed, sneakily convincing him to spend five more minutes with you while max brushed his teeth. you were quick to initiate sweet kisses, humming into the press of his lips, before you pull away and squirm on top of him to straddle his torso.

the love-tinted haze cleared from his eyes as soon a he puzzled out your motive, and the monegasque moved to guide you off his body, but you halted him, pressing a firm hand in the middle of his bare chest.

“c’mon cha–just let me, it’s been so long,” you pout down at him, doe-eyes wide and pleading, “don’t you wanna make me feel good?”

charles wavered–it has been so long. he doesn’t think he’d forget how your face looks as you orgasm, but it would be nice to see it again. you slowly grind your hips down on his, and charles manages to hold back any noises, but his eyes flutter in pleasure. the brunet halts your hips when he sees the brief flicker of discomfort appear in the furrow of your brows.

“ah, regarde toi (look at you)!” charles tuts disapprovingly, “you know you aren’t ready, just wait a little longer!”

you climb off of his lap, and bury your face in the pillow next to him, muffling a dramatic scream to make sure he knows how displeased you are. he rubs your back soothingly, letting you release your anger, before you flip over and huff.

“fine–whatever. two more days. two more days…for me,” you murmur, ignoring charles’ squint at your words, “just because i can’t do anything doesn’t mean you two can’t, right?”

charles shrugs his agreement, “yes, i guess. we haven’t came since you can’t. we were just planning to wait for your skin to recover.”

your heart warms at their abstinence, and the gears of your brain start turning.

“hmm. you know you don’t have to wait for me? i kind of got myself into this situation and it’s not fair for–”

“no. max and i are both responsible too,” charles cut you off, “we should’ve taken more care to make sure you weren’t pushing yourself too far.”

“i don’t blame you guys–i was jumping the two of you everytime you so much as breathed in the same room as me. but, that’s not the point! i was going to say: shouldn’t i thank you guys properly?”

“quoi? how?” he tilted his head to the side in question.

“i mean, isn’t it time i learn how to make you feel good too? i’ve kind of taken advantage of you, and never thought about making sure you guys feel good, like me.”

“how can you say that, mon amour? you make us feel good everytime we make you feel good,” charles sees that you don’t quite believe him, “you don’t notice how tight our pants get when you sit on our thighs? after you’ve finished, we sneak away to the bathroom to relieve ourselves! trust me, we feel very good with you.”

“hey! that’s my point–i want to make you guys…cum,” you whispered, “not have you sneak away to go do it yourself. can’t you teach me? isn’t now the best time for me to learn when i can’t be distracted by my own orgasm?”

“as long as you avoid rubbing yourself on anything, i’m actually okay with this,” max’s voice carried from the doorway, causing you and charles to jump in surprise. neither of you heard him open the en-suite door.

the dutchman walked over and sat on the bed next to charles, who eagerly supported your suggestion now that max said it was okay.

“c-can…can we do it now?” you asked quietly, simultaneously afraid of a possible rejection and the idea itself.

the younger man hummed, and sat up next to max. he smirked at the blonde, “i’m sure he can’t say no to the opportunity of having me teach you how to touch him just the way he likes.”

you may have miscalculated, to some degree. does everything about max have to big? big mouth, big hands, big thighs, big…dick. your brain stops functioning at the sight—max sitting with his back against the headboard, legs spread open comfortably, uncaring of how exposed he is, his cock half-hard and still growing where it rests on his thigh, and don’t forget his self-satisfied smirk at the sight of your shock. you squirm from your seat in between his legs and charles steadies you from his position behind you, bracketing your body within the two of them.

the monegasque shifts forward, hooking his chin on your shoulder with his chest pressed along your back, and hums softly, “all of that ,” charles pauses and moves his right hand to apply pressure on your navel, “is going to be deep inside of you soon.”

“ ‘s not gonna fit in me.”

“we’ll make it fit,” max states. you whimpered at his confident tone, and you could feel charles muffle his chuckle in the crook of your neck.

the click of the lube bottle opening caused you to flinch back into charles, who soothed you with a pat on the hip. the brunet carefully squeezed out a small amount of lube into your right palm and murmured instructions for you to warm up the liquid. he then guided your hand to grasp max’s dick, who sighed softly at your touch.

“touch him however you want, mon ange,” the monegasque directed, “get used to how he feels and then we can make him feel good.”

swallowing down your apprehension, you lightly trace a finger down his shaft, marveling at how he’s a few of your fingers in girth and decently longer than the size of your hand (that’s definitely not fitting inside of you, they have no idea what they’re talking about). you drag the tip of your pointer finger up along the vein on his underside to the head of his cock. the tip is flushed with an attractive shade of pink complimenting the pale skin of his body, and it’s a beautiful contrast to the brown skin on the back of your hand. you wrap your palm around him gently and brush your thumb over the head, making a noise of surprise at his cock twitching in your grasp. a drop of pre-cum beads in the slit and you curiously drag a finger to collect it; you pause, before you bring your finger to your mouth and flick out your tongue to taste it.

it almost tastes like nothing? slightly bitter, a little salty—but, it’s good. he tastes good.

max groans and the sound of his head falling back and hitting the headboard reminds you that the cock you’re feeling up is attached to him.

a broken rasp of, “fuck,” slips from his lips, and charles kisses your cheek in approval.

“ah-you’re so good at this already, mon amour,” charles cheered, “let’s give him a hand, together.”

he brings his left hand around your body to join yours around max’s, and leads you through the motions. he starts you on half strokes, having you circle your hand around the head, while he focuses on mimicking your motions around the base. you can see the muscles of max’s abdomen and thighs clenching with the effort of not thrusting forward into your hand.

“shit,” max moans, “the two of you will be the death of me.”

charles nips a mark right behind you ear, “move your hand like this—oui, just like that—and press your palm around the head—good girl—just keep doing that for me, mon amor.”

max groans roughly at the focused attention on the sensitive tip of his dick; he’s going to come embarrassingly quickly. the sight of charles teaching you how to give him a proper handjob is going to keep him up at night.

“liefje, you’re doing such a good job,” max pants, “going to make come already, pretty girl—are you going to lick my cum off your fingers too?”

you moan highly at his words, nodding your head quickly in agreement, eager to keep being good for him. max continues to run his mouth as he gets closer to orgasm: ‘you and charles should taste the cum off your hand together,’ ‘he can’t wait to get his hands and mouth on you,’ etc.

with a stuttered breath, max warns you that he’s cumming—and charles yanks your hand off of him; ruining max’s orgasm. the dutchman shouts in frustration, his hips bucking up freely now, trying to chase the delicious friction that was stolen from him.

with flushed cheeks, max yells, “what the fuck, charles!” and you turn to look at charles, who’s sitting behind you with an extra-pleased smirk on his face. the brat shrugs nonchalantly, not offering an explanation. you bring your hand back to grasp max’s cock—and repeat the same motion of twisting your palm around the head, to lead max back to an orgasm. he moans in relief, thankfully the edge of release didn’t slip away from him entirely—and then you bring your other hand up to make up for charles’.

all it takes is a few more synced strokes, and max cums. you feel the warmth of his release coat your fingers, but your eyes are stuck on his expression. his mouth parted slightly, eyes shut, his chest heaving, mouth red and flushed from where he was biting at his bottom lip, and you can see the pleasure washing over his face—goddamn, you wish you were feeling what he is. in the haze of appreciating how he looks when he comes, you fail to stop your hands from continuing your motions and max’s hands fly down to halt you once the pleasure slips into too-much.

when he makes eye-contact with you, you raise your cum-covered hand to your mouth and make a show out of tasting his cum. you moan sweetly and smack your lips—honestly, you don’t particularly like or dislike the taste, but the way max’s eyes widen at your display makes you think you’ll learn to love it. he watches you lick your hands clean, and murmurs out a faint, “what the actual hell, liefje.”

“and, you,” the older man’s expression hardens as he directs his cold gaze on charles, “we’re not touching you for two weeks.”

“por quoi?!,” the monegasque pretends as if he doesn’t know exactly what he did.

you and max both ignore charles’ whining, and you smile extra sweetly at max as you wiggle onto his lap, “may i use your thigh, please?”

he digs his thumb into the sensitive skin of your thigh, and you yelp lightly.

“two more days, liefje,” max orders, “and if you’re patient, you can have more than just my thigh.”

1k special taglist: @saintslewis @cherry2stems @lorarri @inloveallthetime @mindless-rock @biancathecool@barnestatic @my-ylenia @katekipshidze @darleneslane @lovingaphroditesworld @smoothopz @vetteltea @dreamingofautopia @jayswifee @megatrilss1885 @nanamilkbread @sophia12345678 @benstormy @userlandonorris@xxniallxxsworld @starfusionsworld@hangmandruigandmav @spicybagel14 @ggaslyp1 @idontgotopartiesanymore @woozarts @yourlilitha @smartstupyd

1K notes · View notes

kombuuuu · 10 months

Note

ONGOMG I saw a Tiktok and it has Miles webbing up your hand while hand holding bc he’s so clingy and I can def imagine it 🥺

Also particularly weak for Pavitr doing the “pinky finger hook” thingy instead of hand holding bc he’s too much of a cutie

OWHHHH MYYYY GOD ANON IM INSANE FOR THESE MEN!!!!

1610 would SOOO web you together omg that’s such a cute headcanon. He’d be the type to grab the straps of your bag, or the bottom of your shirt just so he doesn’t get lost in crowds — or vise versa.

if he couldn’t web you, like you guys were in a civilian setting — hed sooo get you guys those bracelets that like connect to one another,, not the magnet ones, but the ones that clip. so there’s actually no way you could leave his grasp

he’s so clingy it’s unbelievable, you makes jokes with him about getting those leash backpacks at this point

he gets one — spiderman themed.

“Miles Morales, what the hell is that.”

“It’s… a gift?”

“I’m not putting that on.”

“Conejita, please!”

“That’s humiliating!”

“I think it’s romantic.”

“You’re insane!”

“Miles! How long does this last?!”

“Oh about two hours., why?”

“I have class in 40!”

“Oh… Skip?”

“I swear on my momma—“

“Okay— okay, i’ll find the dissolvant >:(“

—

42 is more obvious with his attachment. not only holding your hand, but is a huuuuge fan of you linking your arm with his,, he gets so flattered when you hold his arm, subtly flexing under your hands while you hug his bicep to your chest

when it’s not that — a hand around your waist is a given. or maybe he’d be the type to do the cliche ‘hand in your back pocket’ just to be cheesy

we all know he’s a goofy bitch he’s just in denial

“Ma, C’mere.”

“Wh— Yeah, what’s wrong?”

“Pay attention to me.”

“Miles I’m talking to—“

“I don’t care >:|.”

“You’re being so subtle.”

“Shush, I like showin’ you off.”

“Pff.. Whatever.”

“Pout all you want mamas, I know you love it.”

—

Pavitr, my boy my love

god he would SO link pinkies with you

he’d see you getting all nervous around his family and just hook his pinky around yours. sending you a cute reassuring smile

he’d give you goofy grins when you walked like that in public, and if you walked in front of him, he’d grab your belt loop, trying to match his feet with yours so he didn’t bump into anyone

ALSO ALSO !!!! he’d be the type to not want to let go at all for anything, so he’d just try and do tasks with one hand

and if your holding his dominant, he’ll fumble around trying to do things and watch you giggle

you’ll kiss the tip of his nose and tell him to finish up while letting go of him, and he’ll pout and grumble but eventually get things done quicker — so he can get back to you

“Baby, just let go for a second.”

“No, I’m doing fine, Thithli!”

“Pav.”

“Mmm, fine fine. Whatever It’s not like i’m sad about it or anything.”

“Your pouting.”

“You’re laughing!”

“I’m sorry!!”

“My heart is shattered.” :C

“Oh— I’m done. Yippee!” C:

1K notes · View notes

wandagcre · 7 months

Text

drive you mad (part 2) | sam carpenter 🔞

(Mob Boss!Sam Carpenter x Fem!Reader)

You had enough of your complicated relationship with Sam. You’re trying out new coping mechanisms to move on, but sadly, even going on a date with another person didn’t make things better. However, your best friend had too many tricks under her sleeve, willing to try them all to have you again.

WARNING: dom!mob boss! sam, sub!reader, fluff, some of sam's daddy issues, possessive sex, strap-on, subdrop, jealous sam, breeding kink, blow job, dubcon(?), humiliation, fake cum, praise, edging, implied size difference, mentions of violence and stalking, manipulation, stockholm syndrome, toxic relationship, just a lot of reader and sam fucking like rabbits omg, not proofread +18 / men & minors dni. Words: 18k+ Note: BEAR WITH ME. I am aware of how much of a lengthy (wink wink) last part this is but I swear things are looking good ;) hope everyone enjoys it!

[ LAST PART of TWO | Previous ]

[ series masterlist ] | [ masterlist ]

Apparently, the worst thing that can happen is that your date for tonight shares few similarities with Sam.

You try to be humoured with how it started with your same friend again, it’s like she simply knew what your type was. Your date's name was Lucy and while she didn’t possess the tanned skin that you loved; she was still taller than you, her mother tongue happens to also be Spanish, and she also had an attractive set of thick eyebrows.

The resemblance in terms of characteristics was uncanny.

At first it felt foreign to you to dive into an established romantic date after a while. Besides the comparisons that your brain kept making, you were also unsure if any of the ones with Sam actually counts.

Nonetheless, it's been so long since you’ve been into one, you feel like a newborn learning to walk.

To Lucy’s credit, it was an enjoyable experience. She was considerate of your taste, threw you compliments that weren't only out of politeness, and preferred that the two of you decide which place you’ll be more comfortable in. Lucy was specific and admittedly it helped, because you had the tendency to be indecisive. She was chatty and at times it was comical with how she told you little stories that genuinely made you laugh as you dined in an Italian restaurant.

Lucy also took you to an arcade that recently opened. It was creating quite a buzz around, based on how you constantly see teenagers flock enthusiastically in the area.

Surrounded with glowing lights and bold, colorful neon signs, packed with a variety of games you haven't even seen before. The place was indeed inviting for you to let loose.

“This is cliché. But in a good way. I haven’t been in a place like this for a while now,” you look up to your date who had an unwavering smile.

“See! Clichés can be good! Opens the forgotten memory you once enjoyed.” Lucy beamed at you. “What’s your favorite game to play? I’d have to say I’m great at these things, so we’re totally going to win something by the end!”

“Even the claw machines?” You jab playfully at Lucy's confidence. “Aren't they always rigged? I believe just the same since I never won anything from those things.”

“Can't argue with that. Sometimes it's all about the timing and well, other times, all rigged business as you say. Lucky for you, I happen to be good at this stuff!" Lucy stretched her hands outward, comically, cracking her neck muscles as well.

You can’t help but snort at the sight. Nerves were slightly put into ease, because tonight was going well. She won you a dolphin stuffed toy and she definitely hard carried the gunning zombie game of two players, where Lucy amusingly acted out as though she was in real despair with your character constantly dying. You had a great time.

Even if Sam continued to ebb in your mind.

“Lucy, thanks for tonight.” She opened the car door for you and you exhaled with relief because you did enjoy her company. “I had a lot of fun, even if I kept dying on those two player games.”

She leaned on her car, Lucy’s look remained at you. “I did too. I was happy to be accompanied by a beautiful date. Totally worth the coins! But do know that I don’t mind if we do this again…” she extended her hand to yours, silently asking for permission if you’d let her hold you, which you accepted. “And I also won’t mind if you say no. I’ll be a bit bummed, sure, but I can handle it.”

You sense Lucy's nervousness as she fiddles with your hands, head looking down while sporting an upturned mouth. You’re still wearing the jean jacket she lent you from earlier, and insisted that you needed it more because she can handle the cold breeze better.

You loathed to think that maybe, if a specific woman didn’t occupy your mind and body this much—maybe—you’d get a better shot with the lovely woman right in front of you.

“I appreciate how you’ve been so good to me all night,” you tighten your hold, it was softer than what you were looking for. Unaccustomed to the calloused hands you have grown to love over the past few months.

“I sense that there’s a but…”

Then all of a sudden, your phone rings.

It was the devil herself.

Sam.

Retrieving your phone from your purse, you stared at the screen for a few seconds. Not even debating if you should answer, simply frozen that Sam is calling you. She wasn’t the caller type, knowing that she liked to give head's up before anything. So you thought it must’ve been an emergency if she was this insistent.

Worry filled you. Yet, you don't trust yourself to answer right away, knowing you were bound to embarrass yourself or worse; be easily pulled in by Sam's sweet nothings. She was your weak spot, your ability to say no vanishes with ease.

Taking a peek at your notifications, it only shocked you, seeing that Sam was bombarding you the whole evening. They were sweet first, her usual cheery self, until they got cold for some reason. You stifle an uneasy grimace—hating how this was confusing you to no end.

Pocketing the phone back, you had no energy for this tonight. There’s no escaping this situation or this woman, really. Why did you think it was a good idea in the first place? You decide on calling Sam the next day to get things over with.

“Are you okay? I don’t mind if you’re going to answer that,” Lucy asks with a comforting smile, gesturing at your phone that rang for the second time.

You shake your head, trying to compose yourself.

The ringing eventually stopped.

“No. Uh, where was I?” You clear your throat. She looks at you expectantly. “Again, Lucy, it’s been nice. But I think for now all I can handle is… friendship.” you answer in a heartbeat and for a moment, your date was crestfallen at your answer. “But you’re right, you know. Cliches can be nice. I never thought I actually needed this.” It was genuine; not a mere attempt of cheering her up. You didn’t realize until now how you needed to unwind in a way that wasn’t discrete nor foreign.

After a few beats of silence, the woman nodded, perhaps she has accepted her fate for tonight. Lucy bounced back to her unaffected and cheery disposition. Before parting ways, she surprisingly left a soft kiss on your cheek, almost at the corner of your lips.

“I’m content with the fact that I managed to change your mind over one thing.” Lucy quips and shoots you a playful wink.

You were still blushing at the sudden action but you didn't quip at it, giving back her jacket. “Thank you really. For keeping me warm and making this night wonderful.” Lucy says and waves goodbye one last time to you with a toothy smile on her face.

Standing from the pavement in front of your apartment, your eyes follow your date’s car as it drives farther away from you. Still stunned and occupied with your own thoughts, you pay no mind to the roaring engine in the streets, at this late hour—thinking it was one of the many overbearing and supercilious owners that likes to boast of their possession.

You rolled your eyes internally, and immediately headed to your apartment. Reaching your room, maybe the only thing you've cleaned up was your hands. Nothing had felt good for the past few days—work was demanding. Sam kept blowing up your phone, but she didn't make any move to come and see you and that bothered you still.

Even if this date was the most normal you've felt tonight, the exhaustion easily took over your body.

The paranoia comes in waves, surprising you every now and then. Because sometimes, you felt as though eyes were on you.

Mind drifting to Sam again, you wonder what could she be up to these days. What could’ve been the reason for her to call you out of nowhere. Has she missed you this much? Your heart flutters at the thought.

Was it a good thing? To avoid Sam this long even with her small attempts of reaching out?

Of course, it wasn’t. You idiot. Taking off your boots with a resigned sigh, you lazily placed them on the floor. The plushie was still on your other hand and you plopped the dolphin stuffed toy next to you in bed. It was easy to get lost as you laid all comfortable on warm sheets and cold pillows—you're off to la-la-land, dozing off completely into a dreamless state. As your body relaxed, you found it odd how all of a sudden it smells like chemical.

It was strong and vivid for your taste, that even if your brain sends a jolt of panic, you are numbed—unable to move nor wake up.

Like a terrible nightmare, it seemingly paralyzed you until you blacked out again and you didn’t have any more time to analyze it further.

How many hours has it been?

You worry that you’ll miss work. Disoriented, you feel yourself starting to wake up with eyes calibrating as they open. It smells different, though it’s more pleasant; earthly and flowery than the blur of chemical induced you've experienced before. Was it a dream? Your heart started racing—this is definitely not your bedroom. The mattress was softer than yours, the layers of sheets felt gentle against your skin. Not to mention you didn't have this amount of pillows underneath your head, like you were some sort of royalty. The bed was too wide for your limbs that were acquainted with the minimal space you were used to. Then it clicks to you; you are definitely in a different place.

But wait.

You've been here before.

In your hazy sight, you yanked on your forearm as your wrists felt oddly sore and prickling your nerves, only to find out the restraints that kept you for god knows how many hours. Your breathing pattern started racing—attempting to shake off the handcuffs. It was tight. You were still wearing your flowy dress as you glanced at your body.

"Good morning, mi amor." says the deep voice that rattled you.

Your sight makes out a figure of a person standing in front of you, ominous, yet had an amused look on her face.

How did you get in here? Into Sam's room?

"Sam? What—?" you rasped out weakly. "I don't… what is this?"

Sam had the audacity to smile through her little contraption. You poor sweet thing, she had anticipated many things; first comes the confusion.

She’s wearing your favorite shirt, worn out and tightly fitted to her body. With how Sam is built, you fear that the fabric will rip if she keeps on moving. It’s the same one you've lost during senior year and luckily for Sam, she found it in her room during one of your sleepovers and upon finding them, she had no intentions of returning it to you. The timing was perfect, she carried this piece of you as her father left her with no choice but to move away from your town then. Sam stood barefoot and her legs were covered with her silk sleepwear.

"Hush, It's okay, you're okay. You’re safe with me, (y/n/n)." Sam cooed as she sauntered your way, the bed dipping as she gently straddled your legs. It’s the same softly spoken tone you heard many times before, but Sam's actions remain to perplex you. "Relax, you’re at home—with me."

Then comes the panic.

You huff out frustratedly, "What home are you talking about? This isn't my– it isn't–! Fuck, I need you to uncuff me!” with gritted teeth, you try to kick your feet and legs in the air in protest. You didn’t like being forced into this. It was simply insane. Because either way, you were hopelessly drawn and possibly in love with Sam—enough to comply with whatever she desired.

Your wrists tug on the restraints again making them clink against the headboard and to no avail, you weren't able to loosen them up. It was a genuine pair of handcuffs. This wasn't a prank. The terror rapidly coursed through your veins, much more now that you can't move your legs as well, being trapped in Sam's weight.

"But you're with me. I've told you before, I missed having you, I even repeatedly begged you to come back home. You belong here with me."

Sam had wanted to do this hours ago—missing to be in your proximity, evading your space fully. But she knew it'll suffocate you and she couldn't risk putting her favorite pretty girl into a worse spiral of panic attack.

"No, no, no... I was with- this wasn't where I went right after Lucy... I- I got home, my house and I remember sleeping on my bed," Surely you aren't mad. You can recall the events step-by-step, hence this current situation you're in has left you confused. "How did I get here?"

"First, no mentioning of other women when I'm with you. Or ever at all." Sam breaks out a growl. When you gasp, she holds your jaw, tilting them up. Her hold onto you shifts, thumb now soothed your cheeks gently, wiping away the tears you were unknowingly shedding out of panic. "I had to do it my way, mi amor. I'm sorry."

And it swiftly shifts to anger.

A snarl breaks out of you in the midst of panic.

But oh, Sam could never hurt you.

"What the fuck is your way, Samantha?!"

Sam believed that you only need a little more push—convincing how perfect the two of you are together. After all, she has waited for you for so long and had expected that your reunion was enough to prove that. She has been so good to you. Sam thought; why did you have to look for more? She can give you everything.

"This right here." Sam quipped airily, a teasing look written on her face. "The last time you were in my bed... you were eager to leave. And you did, abruptly and odd, when I first thought of it. Then, you didn't plan on returning at all. That hurt me so much, (y/n/n)." Sam's gaze changed to hurt, head tilted as the intensity of her doe-eyes bore into yours.

Guilt prickled on your side. While you disapprove of Sam's ways, maybe you could have prevented it—this. Confronted her after what you found out. She's a friend first that you cherished before being entangled intimately. After all, communication also goes both ways.

"So, you basically took me? Handcuffed me, too. This is kidnapping, you know I could—"

"Report me? If I were you, I wouldn't waste my time. These cops are sloppy and way too easy. But still, they do make a good ear and connection for me, I must say."

You gasp at her implication. You should have expected it.

"Unbelievable. You've gone crazy, Samantha."

Sam shifted her weight, locking your hips with her thighs. Your breath hitched at the force, much more when you felt something hard poking at your pelvis.

"I hate it when you call me that. You're pushing it, baby. First you ignored me and your solution was to go and date someone else? I thought I made myself clear that I didn't like sharing you with anyone else, (y/n/n)?"

You blinked rapidly.

"It- It wasn't like that—"

"No? If it weren't for Tara and Martin giving me a heads up, you would've invited that girl to your house, wouldn't you?" Sam uttered with gritted teeth, "She must’ve done it to spite me. The nerve to leave a lipstick stain on your pretty face, tell me, did she kiss you?" Her thumb swiped your bottom lip, as if to erase the remains of what once laid in there, then up to your cheek but much more firmer than this time.

Sam was already debating ways on how she will dispose of this Lucy you speak of. Her eyebrows now furrowed and the loving eyes were ripped off, anger fixated on the red mark on your soft cheek.

"What? I don't—no, no, Sam. I'm telling you, it was just a simple date. We only ate at this restaurant and—what does your sister and men have to do with this?" you asked, growing confused even more.

If you loathed how defensive you were, Sam however, took immense pride in it. It just meant that you still cared for her feelings. So, there was something indeed. She wasn’t being delusional all this time—like her father distastefully implied.

Sam cowered onto you lower, her dark hair curtained as you were underneath her.

"Tara's wife owns the restaurant that you visited last night. As for Martin, well, I ordered him to call me in case something happened. Imagine my surprise when they both did."

He was following this whole time. That explained one of your conundrums of feeling eyes on you these days.

"You've been following me around?"

Sam was immovable, unphased by your words. She didn’t confirm nor deny your implication.

"You've got nothing to worry about. Come on, love — it's me." The pad of her fingertips trace on your features feather-like. "I won't let anything bad happen to you. Haven't I made that very clear?"

You scoffed at her nonchalance. "See, I would have believed you if you didn't take me unwillingly out of my apartment and cuffed me in your bedpost!"

"But I've always wanted to see you tied up like this. It was only a matter of time. Besides, I can recall you getting all flustered when I brought it up before. Wasn't it a confirmation on your end?" Sam had her pearly teeth clamped on her bottom lip. As she dropped the words, your cheeks grew hot. "Call this... me reading between the lines." Sam husked out right on your ear.

"Samantha, you are something else." A strained voice weakly comes out of you.

"I'm taking that as a compliment."

You rolled your eyes. "'course you will."

Sam hiked up your dress further, exposing your undies. You squirmed at being exposed and she smacked the side of your thigh in return. You yelped as it stung in your skin, throwing your head to the side of the pillow.

"Now, don't put up that attitude with me princesa."

It was embarrassing enough how you're affected with Sam and her way with words. Were you damp in the southern part? She has to stop and not pry further with her advances—or else she'll never live it down.

"I just don't understand how you were so insistent on taking me here," You peer at Sam who had her jaw clenched as she detached her hold to you. "I dunno, we could've talked about this normally. In a space preferably where I’m not restrained like this. Samantha, I mean it. I can't play any more games with you."

Sam raised an eyebrow over your words. A game? She was absolutely displeased with how little you think of her admiration for you. The disbelief was written all over her face.

She became eerily stoic at your words. You didn’t like being the receiver of her blank expression.

"The last time I did, you were adamant on leaving me. Fully avoiding me right after. You didn’t even pick up my call. And a game? Is that what you think it is? Oh, princesa. You're absolutely driving me up the wall. You're shutting me out, I’m familiar with it.”

You couldn't retort anything back at her words, gulping as you found the truth behind them. Sam was right; you've always wanted to run away from any forms of confrontation.

You were never good at dealing with them.

Such a poor little thing, Sam thought. This was evidently giving you a whiplash, her attitude and unconventional ways, but she doesn't think she can wait any longer and the unforeseen little date you had last evening just accelerated, no, ruined her plans.

"Was she any good?" Sam lowly questioned with her other hand trailed underneath your dress, running on your upper thighs as she moved back. You shiver at the contact and warmth that spread goosebumps all over your skin.

Sam refused to call this woman by their name, it would make things harder for her. She detests how for a moment, you chose someone else over her.

You helplessly squirmed, making the handcuffs clink repeatedly once again. "She- she was nice—" you truthfully said.

When you wiggled out your legs, Sam overpowered you. She gripped your plush thighs, opened them to have herself placed in between, with your folded legs raised in the air, she took her hips to push them downward to stop you. Her own core met yours and you felt her packing.

"Nngh—!" you heated up, so close from erupting louder.

And Sam? She hated to see you suppressing them. Especially when you have deprived her of your sweet presence for so long. But she has already learned that loosening up too much wasn't the good approach. She barely knew a lick to romance, not when her upbringing was surrounded by coldness and violence. She thought in realistic terms, the romantic movies that you loved and forced her to see were pathetic. Adorable that you found hope in them, so she gave that formula a shot when she saw you again.

Only to see that you slipped away from her. It was ineffective, so to say.

Sam decided that she was going to create her own.

"Wrong answer, honey.” she smiled. “You say that yet I can tell you're already wet for me, aren't you?"

You didn’t like how this turned out as foreplay and what was worse, is how you were enjoying this deep inside. Sam being in tune with your body—she already knew that. You just needed a little more… breaking.

"Fuck off, Sam. Just uncuff me already!"

"Now don't get me started. Say, I'll make a deal with you," Sam combed her fingers through your messy hair. "If you're wet once I inspect you, we'll do things my way. If you aren't– maybe– I will let you go."

Astounded with her proposition, annoyance crept into you.

"What's so fair about that?"

"The illusion of choice." Sam grinned mischievously. "But you can't possibly be wet aren't you? It's still early in the morning and your words are insisting that you dislike this whole setup." she gestures on your body, huffing at how you're still resisting her.

"You don't own me," you attempted to stand for yourself.

Mirth settled on Sam's features. She tilted her head and an unsettling smile was set on her lips.

“Haven’t I proved that otherwise from time to time?”

You look away at her crystal clear innuendo. Of course it's Sam. Everything that she did always had you transfixed and mesmerized by her.

"You're just mocking me now. Seriously, maybe if you knew why I pulled away..." you wryly replied.

"That's the thing, I don't! It frustrates me what I have done wrong," Sam now appeared equally exasperated as you.

You look at her bewildered. She had the nerve to say all of this, while her eyes were pleading at you. It was jarring to witness her crumble and desperate to seek answers in the softest way she can, while having you handcuffed.

"I heard you! That day, when you cooked for me and wanted me to stay in.” There wasn't going to be another chance if you didn't pour it all right now. With a shaky breath and a lump in your throat, you continue. “I accidentally eavesdropped on your phone call, confirming that you were going to a strip club. I hated that you were fucking around, even when we– whatever we were. I thought it was better to stub it out right after that. Apparently, I’m still not good with keeping things casual.”

Her calloused hands came back to softly soothe your face. You were close to shedding tears as previously.

"But… I've never been with anyone else since we met again."

"Bullshit." you quickly spat out.

She gave you a stern look. Sam was displeased with how you were denying her. Still, she evens out her breathing, holding back from taking the reins for now.

"I swear on it with a knife on my throat, (y/n/n). I had to go for work reasons. I recently acquired the place so I had to finalize some things. It also helped to muddle our meet-ups in case someone was lurking."

It made you tense up underneath Sam.

"And pray tell, why the hell would someone be lurking at you—better yet, at us?" you curiously asked, worry dripped at your tone.

Sam exhaled, her eyes momentarily shut.

"Because I deal with an under-the-table business, honey." Sam meets your eyes again, holding onto the headboard. "It's the main reason why I had to step up, as I said before. My old man let his temperament slip terribly, fucked up, and I had to take the reigns. That's why I disappeared. I didn't have much choice." She appeared solemn as she admitted the truth you've been longing for.

Sam leading a mob made so much sense now for you. Always wanting to be discreet, her men tried to blend in—not wanting to stand out, and especially that night where Sam was disoriented and had bruising, injured fists, more times than you can count after your first time seeing them.

The glint of amusement on Sam’s eyes did not go amiss for you as she gently stroked your hair. “Though, I gotta hand it to my old man. I hated how his voice nagged constantly in my head, how he figured out that I had feelings for you then–utilized it to taunt me every time I fucked up.” Sam scrunched her nose. The resentment seeped vividly as she revealed more. “He’ll always say, I can’t see you yet or- or that I don’t deserve you if I can’t defend you—that I’m weak. You were my silver lining, (y/n/n). Still is.” She confessed, stroking your jaw softly as though you were her most prized possession.

Similar to that one night, your affection for Sam overpowered your common sense. You were moved by her words, ached that she had to be tormented at a young age. Feeling bile rising up your throat; you then realize how deep were you enough to be willing to ignore the unconventional and wicked ways of Sam, even if it raised red flags. But it doesn’t mean that it wasn’t posing an immense weight over you.

It was all new information to you. For god’s, she had to kidnap you and cuff you to her bed. You never thought that your sweet Sammy could ever—

"That's... okay- okay. It's a lot to take in," you whispered to Sam who was internally worrying at your response.

Before you can delve more to the sirens threatening to grow louder, Sam scooted her lower body away from gripping you, and now you feel her lips softly yet so eagerly peppering your face with kisses.

"We don't have to talk about it right now, but I just want you, (y/n/n)."

She pinched your inner thigh, making your mouth open agape from the shock. Sam took it as her chance to meet your mouth with hers, no hesitation now as she was eager to kiss you. Her lips moved and you tentatively returned the gesture, dancing with familiarity that you didn’t know you badly craved for weeks now.

You groan at the overwhelming feeling of Sam and how she moved against you. Wet and eager sounds of kissing vibrated delectably to your body and it made Sam shift to a hunger and lust fueled kiss.

Soon you were gasping for air. Sam reluctantly pulled away as you did, chasing your lips for more. She was more than pleased to see you equally half-lidded and affected with now swollen lips.

“God, I wanna be inside of you already…” Sam husked out as she swept back her hair. “You’ve made me so desperate, you have no idea.” The ragged breathing made you throb. She moved aside to spread your legs apart and you became wetter at what’s about to happen. Sam quickly placed herself between your legs, now folded up. “Do you wanna feel me?”

You nodded, but it wasn’t enough for Sam.

She grabbed you by your cheeks, “I need an answer, mi amor.”

“Yes!” you breathed out, nodding dumbly.

Sam grinned wolfishly as your need starts to crack upon the surface. She knew that this irresistible feeling goes both ways. Still, she thrived on seeing this each time, being proved right.

“Arch your back for me.”

As you complied, Sam slithered her own body flushed against yours. It gave her enough space to reach behind to unzip your dress, tugged it down, her look barely faltered with a glint in her eyes.

She saw your matching jade underwear pieces. Seethe began to bubble inside of Sam as it sinks in that you dressed up too nicely for your date last night. It drove her crazy, how your gorgeous tits were threatening to spill out of its confinement; you were such a sight for her.

Only for her and it should always stay that way.

She cupped them out of your bra, finally revealing your supple breasts. It only took one glance for her desire to take over and now you’re pressed against Sam. She feels your nipples harden on her as she begins to mark you from your neck, to your sternum, and coated them with her spit as she sucked on them needily. Throughout the process, all you could do was spill moans helplessly, eyes closed and arched your body for her—gladly letting Sam do however she wanted.

Now your body was littered with red and purple marks, some parts glistening with her saliva.

“I want to taste you too, fuck, I don’t know which one I’ll do first.” Sam admitted, voice all raucous. Taking a peek of her needy, doe eyes was enough to make you feel lightheaded. “No more dates with other people alright? So god help me, I’ll fucking behead anyone who dares to.”

You nodded, now eager to comply with Sam as your whole body ached for her. Your green light made her weak in the knees—she worships you. Sam swore that she won’t hesitate to kill more for you, if they cross you or come between the two of you.

Sam pulled you in by gripping your legs, lower body completely arched for your core to meet hers as she knelt at the bed in front of you. She thrusted her hips upward and the dull ache of your pussy throbbing intensified tenfold. She continued teasing you and while your arm and wrists were beginning to ache, knowing you can’t do anything, you started to cry, pleading for the woman to do something.

“Please Sam, can you just– shit, it hurts, I need you… please…”

“Shhh, it’s okay,” Sam gently released her hold of you, pulling down her sleepwear and revealed the strap that dangled between her legs.

You involuntarily widen your legs at the sight. Fuck, you were so ready for her. She smirked at this and tugged your underwear down. Your arousal flowed like crazy, the vivid imagery of your wetness stringing on the fabric of your panties and Sam was intoxicated at it, more so with your heavenly scent.

“Wanna fuck your mouth first, (y/n/n).”

With no further warning, Sam hovered against you once again, leaving your pussy exposed and being teased with the mere air, feeling yourself drip already at her expensive bed sheets. Strong thighs and muscular lower abdomen peeked through her tight shirt, covering your entire sight.

Sam tilted her head and you see the mirth on her face. Unexpectedly, she grabbed the middle of the strap’s length and slapped it harshly on your cheek and mouth, barely an ounce of respect. You were a fan of how she loses herself onto you—because of you.

Body twitching repeatedly, without a doubt, you were craving for more.

“I need my good girl. Come on, open up for me.” Sam orders, probing your mouth open with the tip. Sam’s scent was intoxicating for you, too, with barely space from her core to your face, you almost wanted for her to ride you. Maybe later. “And I need to prep you first.”

Wanting to please her, you met her lust filled gaze and opened your mouth wide, tongue stuck out. She immediately pushed in a few inches, your tongue already swirling around the silicone. It stretched your mouth. With closed eyes you were sucking so eagerly that Sam moaned at each thrust she did, hit the back of your throat that you had to adjust your breathing through your nose–and how you easily complied with no hesitance. You covered it in the slick of your spit until your cheeks hollowed, eager to please even if you were close to gagging. Drool sloppily dripped on corner of your mouth; equally lost as her right now and Sam loved that.

No one and nothing else can compare to this sight.

“Shit, you love me moving like this huh? Being cock drunk, you’re pooling already in my sheets…”

She grunts as she thrusted harder, getting more turned on as the slick wet sounds become aggressively loud in the confines of her bedroom. Sam kept her gaze on you the whole time–loved the sight of your eyes welling up with tears out of pleasure, drooling on the corner of your mouth, and you were releasing throaty moans as she moved on your mouth.

“You missed this, don’t you?” Sam breathily asked, the bed creaked along. “Because I sure did,”

You hummed loud in agreement and this urged Sam to grab the shaft of her strap, with one final thrust, she poked it against your cheek, the head of the cock bulging against it. She groaned at the imagery—ingraining it on her mind. She pulled out with a pop noise and you were already dishevelled.

“Fucking hell, (y/n/n). Not so responsive now are you? Fuck, if my cock was real I would’ve made you swallow my cum already. Spilling them warm on your throat. You would’ve loved that, wouldn’t you?” Sam asked you through her rapid breathing and held you by your cheeks again to fully look at her.

“Yes, yes! I’ll swallow it all. I need you, I always need you, Sam,” you admit with no shame and spread your legs wide once again, your hole soaked and clenching over nothing—all for her.

“Must be your lucky day then. Because this is a cumming strap, mi amor.”

As your eyes widened, Sam pumped on the shaft, directing it to your mouth that was slightly ajar and you felt liquid oozing on your lips and tongue. She dragged it until spurts were all over your face, torso, and then your lower tummy.

You made sure to put on a show for the woman, seductively licking off the remains of her fake cum, fully immersed as if it was the real thing. Sam groaned and moaned, immediately pulled you for a bruising kiss that made your head spin.

“I know you wanted more but I need you to be patient,” Sam muttered as she pushed your inner thighs outward, positioning herself between you. “Shit, you’re dripping. I was right. Soaking, just like I expected you to be.”

“Yes, yes! But for the love of god, uncuff me, Sam… I want- no- I need to feel all of you,” you begged for her mercy. Sam simply bit your exposed clavicle. As you moaned, the action sent delicious tingles all over her body.

“No, not just yet.”

Sam’s calculations were going well so far, she’s about to have you and then keep you forever.

There’s no escaping her now.

You whined a bit more as Sam had her grip on the back of your knees, making you fold as she pressed herself beneath you. She held you by the ankle and threw them above her shoulder. Fuck, she’s got you folded. Maybe Sam should’ve let you do some stretching first.

“Need you to take a deep breath for me, pretty girl.” Sam uttered with her voice all gruff, and looking at her, you see the sheer sweat becoming evident on her skin though not as much as yours. “You didn’t like me so much earlier but now, I’m barely in, and your pussy is clenching already?” she mocked you. Her giggling burned your body, you did not expect how enjoyable it was to be ridiculed in this way. “Loosen up for me.”

With a bated breath as you relax your throbbing core, Sam slid her cock further, the head and a few inches entering you with ease than earlier. Sam was keen on looking at your expression and your mouth, in case it was too much for you. She knew it was a new thing for the two of you, she can only imagine that it’ll be a new adjustment compared to her slender fingers.

This was an insane type of stretch for you. The biggest you’ve ever taken.

“See? You’re taking it so well. I’ll make it fit.”

Eventually, it wasn’t enough for Sam as you expected. Drunk with the sight of your pussy swallowing her whole, she picks up her pace and rammed the cock inside of you—full of hunger and determination to see you fall apart; she needs it more than air.

“Shit! S-Sam, can you just–”

“Shhh. Don’t be so greedy now, where are your manners?”

The curve of the whole shaft inside of you was vivid against your walls, her impatience getting the better of her as the pace was ragged, no longer gradual. It was downright pornographic–you didn’t expect to be this loud and wet. The ache of being deliciously stretched out made your eyes roll back to your head and let out a moan. The sloshing and slapping sounds were too defined for your ears.

“You… you’re going to be the end of me, Sam,” You whisper as you bucked your hips, the squelching of your sopping pussy only motivated Sam to thrust deeper who smiled at your words.

She waited for you for so long and to finally have you was intoxicating beyond her comprehension.

“As you are mine,” Sam replied and with a newfound fervor, she began fucking you deep into her mattress, hitting the depths of your soaked pussy. The bed uncontrollably shaking and with her grip on the headboard–you feared that she might actually break it.

“Oh m-mmh! Fuck, oh-Oh my god!” you cried, not even able to ground yourself through holding onto something as you’re still cuffed.

“Shhh you can take it. Just a little more,”

Your arousal dripped enough to smear itself to Sam’s hips and thighs. She grunts loudly as she fervently pounds the strap on you, "Esto es mia." her accent dripped deliciously and you whimpered, whole back arched, as Sam splayed her hand, pushing the bulge of the strap that appeared on your lower tummy. “You like that baby? Needy little thing, I’m going to fucking breed you until all you can think of is me.” you wish to have your nails dug and scratched over Sam’s muscular back, finding the ideas she kept on seeding onto your dirty mind pleasurable more than ever.

Your stomach twitched like crazy, the tangled coil grew unbearable now for your liking. Both of your muscles burned but it was barely an issue for Sam who was still relentless.

Just as you were close as Sam hit the right spot, her pounding came into a full halt.

With hazy sight, you try to blink a few times. Sam started to pull out, while you cried, canting your hips to chase more of the strap and she simply took deep breaths. She growled, slapping you harshly by your inner thighs—you yelped unadulteratedly, the sting crossing the line of pain and pleasure. Sam muttered a string of curses in her mother tongue as soon as she saw the strap coated and glistening with your slick.

The tension on your stomach twitched madly in waves. It doesn’t help that your clit was throbbing painfully to reach the needed high. You wail as you turn your head to the side, burrowing to the soft pillows. Your vision turns warped as you grew dizzy, staring at the high ceiling.

The harsh reality sinks in. Like a cold bucket of water spilled onto you, you realize that you’re in Sam’s complete mercy. She makes it known with her giggling that resonated in the spacious room, making you feel humiliated. Though, it oddly adds to the erotic atmosphere. She worked you up–gaping hole still clenching, now onto nothing.

“This is what happens when you do dumb things and deprive me of your pretty self, mi amor.” she smiled and stroked the apple of your cheek, wiping the tears away.

Sam couldn’t wait to fully break you.

While previously wallowing in deep yearning and questions, Sam however, took it up a notch. It was terrible; aware of Sam’s tendencies to be rough in bed, nothing had prepared you from yesterday. Her intentions were clearly personal and she took the detachment horrifyingly and dealt with it in unimaginable ways you never thought could happen to you. For gods’s sake, she was following you and not so long ago you were in her bed. Uncertain how you’ll face this mess, there’s one thing that you were sure of: you cannot get enough of Sam.

Isn’t that terrible?

You woke up gasping for air—your body doesn’t feel like yours. It felt as though you were paralyzed, your motor senses weren’t coordinated as you wanted them to be. It was like being plunged into a body of water for hours, coldness surrounded you and oxygen was scarce, you were completely deprived. Your lungs were clogged up and you didn’t know how to manage the air through your body. Panicking at this, the tears involuntarily well up your eyes, blurring your vision and just in time, someone catches you.

“Shhh. It’s okay. You’re okay.” Warmth covers your body. The soothing voice kept on lulling you to calmness. The grasp was firm on your midsection—continuously rubbing back and forth. It wasn’t like being trapped anymore. “It’s just me, mi amor. It’s Sam—your Sammy. Try to breathe slowly with me, come on baby, you can do it.”

The voice faintly goes through your hearing but it was distinguishable enough. It was still difficult to breathe but being in her proximity, you feel her pattern of breathing. She takes a deep breath and draws out the release just as slow.

“Breathe with me, come on honey,” The voice urges you gently, sweeping the hair away from your face. She anchors you through the turbulent waves. Sam thought; How can you still look so beautiful even at your most vulnerable? If anything, this had made her even more set with her plans—wanting more days of waking up next to you.

Your breathing was less ragged, albeit still unregulated.

Sam wanted to see your eyes now, the one that she loves the most, and your subdrop is depriving her of it.

She tries to paint an easy picture for you in hopes of calming you down. “You’re alright. You stayed with me—in my house the whole day. It’s nighttime and nothing bad is going to happen to you. What’s going to happen is that you’ll rest the whole day. I’ll prepare some food, we’ll go for a bubble bath, and reapply a soothing cream to your sore thigh and we can watch some romantic comedies that you like so much—you’d pick the movie, of course.” Sam finishes with a light chuckle.

Finally, the panicking has settled down, her words have lulled you to calm down. You aren't drowning in the vast and deep sea nor restrained like a prisoner. It provided enough details that you didn’t know your mind longed for.

“Sam,” you drawl out with your hoarse voice. You’re met with the beaming hazel eyes, crinkled at the corners, attentive to your next words. “Fucking warn a girl next time.”

“No promises.” She teases you, nose scrunched and tickling your side lightly.

You fight off a weak smile threatening to spread on your lips. “What do you mean no promises? I don’t think I can walk! Don’t even look smug right now–I mean it.”

The woman in front of you was not guilty at all. Shrugging her shoulder, Sam was seemingly ready to get up.

No!

You shrieked. Panic immediately courses through you, tugging her down harshly to your side once again. Your grasp was in her arm. Why were you so adamant to have her beside you? It was unexplainable but if anything is certain, your body couldn’t handle it if she left you. Not after letting her have her way with you earlier—you refuse to feel disposable, even by the slightest. You wanted more of Sam.

Sam, on the other hand, was shocked at the action but not at the reason. She blamed herself—knowing you were still processing your feelings, how rough she has been—she should have remained gentle, at least for now. Sickeningly, she loved having your attention this way. It felt like a teaser of what was more to come—to eventually have your full devotion; equally as she does to you.

“I’m sorry, honey, I was about to carry you.” Safe with me now. She murmured to no one, soon as you clung to the front of her body, legs wrapped tightly to her waist. Her arms and hands quickly caught you for support. You nuzzled in the crook of her neck, making her shiver delectably more so as you tangle your fingers on her hair—scratching lightly on her scalp.

Not long after as she started walking, she pressed multiple innocent kisses to the expanse of your neck. Sam sighed. God, everything had to be so addicting about you—even your scent. She gently drops you to the cold marble of her kitchen’s counter and before you could protest, Sam reminds you of the plans she had made for tonight.

You’re surrounded with appliances that you had no idea how to properly pronounce, one that you would’ve only seen in the magazines. She always wanted the best of the best, it seems. Hell, Sam can start a cooking show if she wants to. This part of her house wasn’t too decorated, you noticed, somewhat lifeless. You tuck the observation at the back of your mind, a piece that could be useful later on.

Soon as you settled in, Sam told you that she intends to make an appetizing flatbread and her own concoction of guacamole dip. How she managed to improve her culinary skills in these years remains to surprise you. Younger Sam was already capable of making edible food fixes and some humble meals, but her skills as she made them was evidently different and an upgrade.

Your curious eyes remained at Sam as she moved. Her apron appeared threatening—it read don’t make me poison you! Attached with a kiss mark was ridiculously endearing to you. But also very, very hot. The way Sam tied it around her waist and how it clung to her fit figure. Not to mention, you were rewarded by the sight of Sam’s hair tie momentarily trapped by her teeth then doing a messy half-pony with it.

She first started with the dough with the trusty rolling pin, her arms flexing and contracting at each force she put into it. The veins were slowly becoming prominent as Sam does her work, the outline of its curves bulging, also making themselves known. Remnants of the powder were a nice touch as she was making a meal for you.

Don’t even get started with her knife skills. Sam easily chopped through the vegetables, completely hypnotized by the motion, you failed to notice that she was preparing some greens that you personally had a vendetta with. Your eyes were fixated on how she cut through them with much precision and ease. Then, you recall her admission, leading a mob—you can only imagine how swift she must be with her sharps when using them in business situation, the menacing glare and—

What?

Now, you were thoroughly confused.

You gulped and squirmed on your seat. The ache in between your legs made you remember how she deprived you of orgasm previously which was a first. She even promised to breed you. But you didn’t know whether it was an act of mercy, knowing if she pushed you more, you would have spiraled much worse the following hours when you woke up or was it an act to build an excitement through you.

No wonder, similar to the physical hunger, you found everything in front just as equally gratifying. Even the thought of her malevolent ways, which you initially had conflicting thoughts about. You were still aching and sore, it didn’t help that Sam was quite the eye-candy as she maneuvered in her own space. Shit.

“I know you still don’t like these. I remember you shoving them sneakily on my plate whenever we ate dinner at your house back then.” Sam snapped you out of your…derailing thoughts. Oh, you wanted to be railed, alright. She dusts off her hands on her aprons after washing them. “But you have to eat up your greens, missy. Don’t make me force you.” she quips in a jest, eyes scrunched at you.

“I don’t have much choice, do I.” You deadpan and roll your eyes as Sam hummed, agreeing. “How come you don’t have a personal chef?”

Might as well shift your thoughts to something else. Admittedly, you also wanted to know more about Sam. After the continuous bombs she had dropped to you as she fucked you to oblivion.

“Ouch, baby. You haven’t even tasted what I’m cooking and you’re already doubting me?”

You laughed. “No. But I heard it’s what rich folks have. And you must be busy.”

“Not for you, never too busy.” She replied, quickly like it didn’t need much forethought. She shot you a charming smile and proceeded to chop away. Did your heart do the somersaults? Hell yes. You were always puddy when it comes to this woman. “Sometimes I do… but I prefer doing it personally for you. Especially today. But on another occasion, maybe you’ll see my personal chef.”

“Do I sense an early invitation for an indoor date?” you tease her.

Sam nodded her head adorably. “Well, yes, (y/n/n). I thought that was clear already. More things to come.”

Well, that joke of yours bit you quickly in the ass.

You coughed and turned around to your side to hide how affected you were. This version of your Sammy would need more time to be processed into your consciousness. Few weeks apart and you’re still clammy and hopeless at her forward nature.

“You haven’t even asked me to be your girlfriend yet. For all I know, this feels like another booty call for me.”

“A booty call?”

Okay, maybe that was a bad idea. Sam halted her motions, you flinched in your seat as she spun the knife effortlessly in her fingers, then gripped the knife and pierced it in the chopping board—the sound resonating in the kitchen.

“You are my girlfriend and it better stay that way.” A lilt of aggression and possessiveness dripped in her honeyed voice. She couldn’t stand you doubting more of her actions. Or worse, you mentioning any traces of your past experiences of hooking up with other people. “Like I said, I despise having to share you amongst all things. I thought I made it clear; no talking of other people–more so when you were entangled with them at one point–around me. I absolutely cannot stand it.”

Her jaw grinded as it bothered her. Sam didn’t know whether she should throw up or plan to hunt them all down and slice them all up, gut them up like a fucking fish, as she pays them a little visit. Starting with this Lucy woman you just went on a date with.

Shiver ran through your spine at her tone, coupled with Sam’s harsh parting of your still sore legs, settling between them as yours dangled on the marble counter. You turn into jelly oddly both at Sam’s admission of wanting you—claiming you—and her hand that greedily ran on your ribs, dangerously under your breast, and the other brought up your inner wrist, and pressed a kiss softly.

“I wasn’t– I just wanted to clear this out. It confused me for a while, what we were. I just needed it spelled out. For the sake of my inner peace.” You stammer out and Sam’s features slowly relax to your admission.

“Well, you are mine, mi amor. I’m reiterating that for a million times more until it sinks in to you.”

She professed, tilted her head and leaned to you with no hesitation, and as you met her halfway, one of her hands rested to the side of your head, pulling you for a chaste kiss. You burned for Sam, chased her touch, and the butterflies on your stomach were still there. Not even the little cheek kiss from your date last night could compare by the slightest.

Soon as Sam pulled away, your stomach growled, reminding you of actual hunger. She chuckled upon hearing and quickly resumed her work.

“I didn’t know you were this…” You stop to find the right words. Sam tilted her head to the side again, always attentive to you. “Passionate.” Possessive, almost. Maybe you would have said that but you didn’t want to break such an intimate air between you. Not when Sam is officially your girlfriend.

Sam however, found it amusing. She’s surprised you barely caught up with her nature. Even in your younger years, she assumes that you only took it as protectiveness. Casualties were barely encountered then because you were attached to the hip, by default nobody wanted to mess with you as everyone was aware of Sam’s intimidating self. She was all talk and bite.

"You can say possessive and I won't be mad. I don't want you holding back to me."

“Okay. I was about to say that. Were you ever like this with other girls?” you timidly ask out of curiosity.

She shook her head. “No, just you.”

Sam clearly remembers this girl from her lacrosse team who wanted to ask you out for homecoming. Unlucky for her, Sam had heard her previously in the locker room, talking about you as they perceived you both in sweet and disgusting ways.

She mentally agreed with how they recited your beauty out loud. You are definitely a piece of art to Sam. She unashamedly admired you out in the open, but it appeared that you were oblivious to it. But then, they also talked about how you were possibly freaky—your innocent and quiet nature was a mere ploy in their eyes and they would like to tap your ass and ramble more of your curves.

It may or may have not intendedly caused Sam to perfectly stage an accidental scene to break the girl's ankle during one of the practices then sneered for her teammate to 'watch out next time' and 'not even think about you' in the slightest.

“Guess I was indeed full of surprises, hm?” She simply replied, getting a glass and a bottle of your favorite flavor of fruit juice for you.

How did Sam even know that this was your go-to comfort drink?

With wide eyes, you accept it gratefully.

“Yes, you are.”

Not long after, Sam had finally finished up preparing food for you two. The serving was definitely quite generous. She didn’t hesitate overfilling it with the toppings and sauce. She brought up a piece of her creation in your mouth, which you easily took a bite of. The food and its flavors melted in your tastebuds. You couldn’t help but moan in pure delight.

Sam laughed. “That good?”

“Shut up.”

“You’re stroking my ego, baby.” She places her palm flat on her chest, seemingly flattered. “Don’t talk with your mouth full—you know this.”

And you? You almost spluttered out the food you were chewing. Sam and her devilish antics will be the end of you.

It wasn’t you to be contained in one place. You were always moving, whether there was a force or not. Yet, for the last few days, you manage to be unmovable. Miraculously taking your sweet time with Sam. Time seems to fade when it comes to her. More than anything, you were in disbelief you get to call your long time crush as yours.

The small haven the two of you built for the last few days came to an inevitable end with Sam having to attend to her business matters.

You were displeased, the bubbling separation anxiety somewhat coming to the surface already. Just before Sam left, she pulled you into a deep make out session, and both of you were getting handsy. Gleaming at the thought of finally getting a sense of release, to your surprise, Sam managed to break away and compose herself—smoothening the material of her dress shirt and fixing up her tie.

To pile more to your frustration, you saw the emerald upholstered chair that Sam shamelessly paid and took when she fucked you senselessly at that lingerie boutique. As expected of the woman, she had it in her placed in the resting area of her house.

Before deciding to explore more of the nooks and crannies of Sam’s home; you eventually noticed the red lights at some corners placed in the bedroom and a brilliant idea popped out in your mind.

You retrieve your phone and dial Sam to confirm and quell your thoughts.

“Miss me already?”

“Terribly so.” you fiddle with the strings of Sam’s hoodie–the owner giggling to your direct confession. “I just noticed, but are these cameras in your bedroom?” your eyes flit to one to your right.

Sam cleared her throat. “Before you detest the idea; baby, it’s all for safety. If it makes it all better, I’m the only one with access to the bedroom cameras.”

You almost snorted because of course, she would.

Audibly, you sighed out of relief with a hand clutched to your chest. “Thank god. ‘cause I was about to touch myself.”

You’ve dropped the words so casually that Sam for the first time, was out of words. Faintly, you picked up something on the other end, a sound like a clear fall–unbeknownst to you, you have successfully made her flustered beyond her comprehension.

“Sam? Don’t tell me you hung up on me,” you rolled your eyes.

The woman took a deep breath. “No. Still here.”

“Good…”

Your eyes remained on the camera, giving the best of your pleading eyes–hoping it’ll somehow be visible enough through Sam’s static screen. Hand slithering on your ribs then your covered mounds, making you groan out loud and eventually your fingertips hovered around your pelvis–a flimsy underwear that you Sam chose for you to wear earlier. It was practically see-through. Your body felt feverish, eyes fluttered shut.

It would be so easy to dip your fingers inside…

You hear Sam growl. “Don’t touch yourself. Not without me there. I swear to god, (y/n/n) I’m not playing with you…”

A whine escaped your lips at her order, actions coming into a full stop. It was no use to sneak off, aware now there’s cameras in her house and Sam was bound to figure it out no matter what.

It took Sam half an hour to reach you. You’re met with a determined woman, loosening the tie on her neck and unbuttoning her dress shirt halfway as soon as she barged into her bedroom door—while you gasped, looking still the same as Sam last checked on her monitors.

She manhandled your body, as though you weighed nothing. It spurred your libido higher than ever, mouths crashing and Sam devouring you until your lips bleed and bruised. The only thing that came out of your mouth was her name and more moans that echoed beautifully in her room. Bodies flushed together, you grinded in perfect sync, breasts brushing that made you putty. The familiar gliding of her hands soon met your soaked center. Sam slid her long and slender fingers, entering you but not fully. She started to rub circles slowly until you were worked up enough, playing with pressure, she pumped them deep into your throbbing pussy. Sam grunted at the squelching sounds, obsessed with the warmth of your core. You easily took her in, greedily swallowing all of what she can offer to you.

The twitching of your stomach was absurd and seemingly nonstop. Yet again, Sam noticed, and she took out her coated fingers out of your sopping apex.

“No, not yet princesa.” She devilishly giggled, breathless as you were on top of her lap. You simply cried and squirmed, as the lack of release was making you crazy. “Give me a good reason,”

Your hips bucked but Sam was moving away. You didn’t like it at all. Surely, you were going to combust if you were deprived of this heaven for much longer.

“Please, I can be good! Sammy… I’d do better!”

How can Sam deny you now? She giggled at your state. Sam had to admit, edging you was a form of sick atonement that she wanted to pull out of you. Forged as a punishment for leaving her dry while she was understanding and patient. Her devotion was clear as a day and you’ve failed to notice that. Yet, it was also a ploy to have you in her orbit, even by sexual means. With a sardonic smile, Sam absolutely had fun with it.

“Now you’re talking. Just like how I want you, (y/n/n).”

With newfound fervor, she resumes her motions to your pulsating and insanely wet pussy. You clenched repeatedly around her digits. It released a throaty moan out of Sam, low and breathy, spurring you to arch your head back.

“Tell me how much you need me.”

“N-need you… only—s-shit—just you, Sam! Nngh!”

Pride deeply surged on her chest. If it were possible, her love for you only heightened.

“Oh, I love you.” She confessed against your skin. “Cum for me, (y/n/n).”

The endearing look that Sam had in her hazel eyes had made you even more lightheaded as you took a peek at her. She loves you? You couldn’t believe it. Just in time, your body shook in pleasure as finally you were able to cum. With weeks worth of teasing, it definitely scratched an itch but somewhat it wasn’t enough, yet you couldn’t raise your voice for more as it exhausted you. Maybe you should start working on your stamina, you thought. But then again, Sam was insatiable with her teasing and foreplay. She had been sinfully eyeing you and grabbing you so casually without any promise of making you cum.

Your profession of love to Sam came out in a mumble. Of course, it was no-brainer that you reciprocate her love, too. She simply laughed at your state, body slumped and nuzzled on her neck, a gentle kiss pressed out of appreciation for her. Sam held you tighter, combing through your hair that had grown sticky due to sweat, all softly and breathing in your scent. She smiles upon realizing that you used her own shower items instead of yours, one that she provided, knowing which products you used religiously.

As this was happening, Sam bestowed your little date with a gift. A bloody pig head awaits the woman, the item placed not out of her doorstep but rather from the inside. The scene was gory for her or any sane person’s liking. The trail of redness was spread through her floor and has oxidized. It left a stench of rot, that flies were starting to appear in your date’s home. Sam is anything but rude, so her present came along with a note—one that relayed a clear message of threat for the woman to stay away from you and it would be better if she moved away.

Sam would have made her death swift, dealt with it clean this time as she has no longer a message to relay for you, a contradicting safety and fear which she can both offer—all in order to have you.

Your stunt of touching yourself today effectively reduced Lucy’s sentence. She cut her plans short and had given this woman a second chance and made a simple scare instead of personally gutting her up with ease. Although if she pulled any attempts of challenging her again, Sam would no longer be merciful to her.

Another day of Sam giving you a bouquet of flowers. To her surprise, today was different. Soon as you placed them carefully on a vase filled with water, quickly you retrieved your own gift for her. She always gave you something and you wanted her to know how you always thought of her, too.

You handed Sam a dark blue colored mug that was rough around the edges, a proof of your inexperienced clay making. Designed with stars and the waxing crescent as the main subject, the outline is painted in gold.

“What’s the occasion?” She asked, still in awe.

“Should there be any? It reminded me of you,” You smoothly replied. Her eyes twinkled and it was easy to say that it was a success.

Sam was over the moon. You remembered. Honestly, it was hard not to, because her pillow sheets were still related to the cosmic – only portrayed with much elegant material. Then her ramblings and how Sam would take you out to simply admire the moon at night. As she held your present carefully, you thought now of how it was a fitting symbol for her, with her tendencies of being a night owl and broody. She chuckled at your perception of her.

“Oh and I’m broody?”

You add, "It makes you hot and mysterious though, don't worry."

“We should watch the night sky sometime again. I missed doing that with you.”

With Sam’s eyes crinkled in delight and her million dollar smile directed at you, caught you in her grasp with your feet in the air—her hold flooding you with warmth and adoration—it wasn’t much work for you to smoothen and forgive her of the previous disagreements you’ve had with the woman.

She was simply your Sammy, far from the frightening glimpse you’ve seen of her as someone determined and powerful of a mob leader.

Somehow, you managed to get back unscathed when you returned to work. With absence equivalent to a honeymoon trip, you didn’t know what excuse the universe had provided over you. You explained a made up family-related emergency problem, even though you haven’t seen them in years, and it worked like a charm on your end. You weren’t fired even with the sudden absence, no resentment in your bosses’ tone, and your coworkers simply wondered and then welcomed you back.

What you did not know was that your absurd omnipotent of a girlfriend conjured something, effective enough not to pull much attention in tying her name with yours. Sam already invested in your company. It was clear for her that you wanted your own thing, getting out of work so quickly. She respected this wish of yours. A negative push from her would have made you shut like a clam and she didn’t want that—not when Sam was making progress already.

Were your spirits lifted? Without a doubt. Luck didn’t strike you this much, so you gladly took it in.

Initially, you planned to go back to your apartment after work then call your girlfriend. You can’t deny that you missed your own space, wondering if it was dust littered already, given your absence for how many days.

Although, a car was already waiting for you outside.

“After you.” Martin greets you, opening the car in the backseat. You offer him a polite smile. To your surprise, Sam was seated there too. Immediately, you tackle the woman for a tight hug. Sam returns it with a loving smile and you didn’t want to let go of her addicting embrace.

She looked stunning with her navy turtleneck and usual trousers, along with her polished leather shoes. Sam’s attire always complemented her tanned skin that you love so much–especially with the gold accessories that adorned her look. If anything, getting a sight of her energized you and made your mouth water.

She laced your hands together. “How was work?”

“Good as it can get.” You sighed contentedly, head already leaning to Sam’s broad shoulder. “I don’t know what magic you pulled, but I wasn’t berated at all? And this guy from the other cubicle was the only thing that annoyed me by far.”

“What’d he do to you?” Even without looking, you can already see Sam’s eyebrows furrowed in concern.

You giggle as it wasn’t a serious matter. “Relax. I just couldn’t tune out his singing and humming today. It got on my nerves… he didn’t exactly have the voice of an angel.”

“Oh I’m sorry you had to put up with that?” Sam meekly says in hopes of comforting you and her thumb rubbing on the back of your hand.

“You know I should be the one asking you–how was your day?” you retort. You always wondered how it worked; Sam being a mob boss. She must’ve always been caught in some form of distress.

Sam bit her lip. She looked at the rear view mirror before answering you. There was nothing much to hide at this point.

“Good. Somewhat smooth, no one annoyed me with a shitty singing voice.” She replied in a deadpan which made you laugh. “No one had to face my knife nor my fists, surprisingly.”

“That for real?” your eyes went wide.

“You asked,” she mumbled. Sam held your hand tighter as though you were going to disappear in thin air. “It’s nothing like a war, (y/n/n). I know your head is getting all creative–but the machine gun out in the open? Not real. Not an efficient way to stay low, either. Sometimes it’s about looking at paperwork and more on discussions. But lately it’s more of in between securing deals, cordially as we can. Then like I said, sometimes… it takes force and grit—in case things go south.”

A pout spreads on your lips. It pulled out a hearty chuckle from Sam. As she suspected, you indeed had a comical imagery of her work.

What she didn’t know was how you grew into liking the vision of her being stern and domineering. You even thought of her office, how her seat must’ve looked like a throne to sit in. Completely lacking in warmth, assertive, cold and calculated as she gave orders around.

You blurt out, “That’s hot.”

“Hot?” Sam looked at you in disbelief and some flattery. “I didn’t expect that from you, (y/n/n).” an amused smile graced her features.

You simply shrugged and soon yawned.

“When was the last time you had time to rest? You deserve this, mi amor, and so much more. It wouldn’t hurt if you let go once in a while.”

It got you thinking. Sam is right. You weren't used to having this privilege; by means of simply resting and existing in a peaceful space. Always trying to get by, going through the tedious nine-to-five routine. You’re forgetting something but you have already succumbed to the idea that crashing onto your girlfriend’s place (once again) was a given, due to your sleepy state.

“Before you fall asleep on me, I got you this,” Sam shuffled on her seat as soon as you leaned against the car’s headrest, mindlessly fiddling with the sun pendant placed below your jugular notch. Sam got it for you a while back.

She reached at the back of the car and pulled a gorgeous bouquet arrangement. It was becoming a common occurrence every week, since you managed to make a deal with the woman. You had issues with being spoiled too much and Sam petulantly met you halfway, understood it, even if she acted like a kicked puppy. This was her alternative of spoiling you of love—amongst other things. Sam balanced her unconventional approach of romance through this, willing to give this traditional courting-like gesture another shot, not wanting to be too rough with you as it wasn’t an image she wanted to be fully attached to.

Another huge motivator for her was the discovery of your admittance when she came up with this unannounced, saying that the first and last time you received them was in high school and it was because of her. Sam can recall the time, unknowingly having missed the sight of you being tongue-tied and absolutely flustered. She loves how you glowed at this little gesture.

And now, Sam is eyeing you between like a meal to devour and the trace of gentleness is found on her hazel eyes, as always. Her fingers cradled under your jaw.

You can get used to this.

"But I'll miss you. didn't we plan movie night today?" A rare sight of Sam, pouting and tugging you close, was beyond endearing.

You almost felt bad. Pressing your lips against your girlfriend, you then lead her onto a chaste kiss. "I'm skipping just for tonight please? And it's not like I won't miss you too, either. because I certainly will."

"So smooth with your words."

"I've learned from the best."

Sam cocked an eyebrow. She didn't know whether she'd be pleased at this situation or not. Her issue lies from your current outfit, she thought it was too short. It didn’t help you were a walking vixen and dangerously unaware of it. The idea of you prancing around with filthy leering eyes following you all night? It made her blood boil.

That was already a job taken by her and hers alone.

Her grip loosened around your waist, turned into soft caressing. She beams at you, knowing it was your favorite sight and part of her.

"Mmm. Maybe it was bad that you were taking notes. Too much of it I'd say."

Your phone pings again, your friends were already telling you that they're on their way. A part of you detests to be away from Sam – but you think that your memory has gone oddly hazy and you cannot remember the last time you met up with your friends. You get out of your shared room but not without Sam hovering and sending you off with a kiss and personally driving you there.

Meanwhile Sam was somewhat pleased. Sure, she wanted all of your time, but she had to admit how she reveled in the way you have easily forgotten of her obsessive and conniving ways. Your girlfriend wouldn't let you out of her sight, of course. Constantly worried about your safety and a step ahead, decided to plant two men with a set of skills present on the scene; a safety net in case your fun night out changes its course, her gift of necklace served as an audio receiver and the expensive watch had a tracker.

What you hoped to be a good time, ended up on a terrible note. You disagree with your friends as you open up a few more details to them. It was all because of your curfew and they perceived your relationship with Sam as too intense. That was a given, right? It’s a love thing, you suppose. You fiddle with the necklace she gave you, pondering over how as though they didn't see Sam in the same light as you did. She wasn't borderline abusive. In fact, she had been greater than ever to you, more carefree, unrestrained and unfiltered. You feel it too, she was more relaxed and eager to disclose any information you wanted from her.

Now on your fifth drink? Or sixth? You scoffed and giggled. You were bummed because it took Sam a lot of convincing that you were going to be safe. That you had your own pepper spray with you and that nothing can happen with your friends beside you. It was good, refreshing even. Until it wasn’t.

“I’m just saying, you have to watch out for yourself. And we’re here. Anytime.”

“Are you sure you can trust her after that? She seems… pushy. Won’t take a no for an answer.”

“Seems too fast, (y/n). It won’t be bad if you raised your opinions every now and then, you know.”

It echoed once again to you. Sam was the best for you. Everything between you was consensual. You understood her ways, simply because it was how she was made. You can only imagine how several years of being moulded into a domineering leader with a strong gut have drastically shaped her, refusing to think of it further how you weren’t there for her.

You downed another shot and as you drank away your disappointment of your friends’ criticism of your girlfriend, a greasy man was already eyeing you.

Then you realize Sam's words from one of the nights you spent with her. She was right; these people in your circle wouldn't get it. Not as much as the two of you do.

Upon your realization, a man not so discreetly manoeuvres his way through you. You deny him but he was insistent. It was gross how he was a mouth breather, his stench hovering over you.

“The more the merrier, baby.” He didn't even believe that you had a girlfriend, in fact, he even grinned disgustingly at this information.

“You have one second before I call the fucking cops.”

“That’s a lame excuse–” He whined, looking away in disbelief thinking you were bluffing. “C’mon, I can make you straight… all it takes is a night with me,”

You took that chance to stealthily use your phone and clicked on speed-dial. You were surprised it connected to Sam instead of the cops. You don’t remember changing it although it was a better alternative, truthfully. With the initial shock, it override the rising suspicion from you; how your girlfriend set it herself.

Some men came over to assess what was happening. The greasy man rambled too much, far from convincing with how visibly uncomfortable you were. Thankfully, they came into your rescue. You hoped they were good guys. So far it seemed promising that they pushed the guy who was making you uncomfortable. They had a strong build and now were exchanging in a verbal disagreement. It was getting heavy that you had to step away and as soon as you bumped from someone at your back; it was your girlfriend, doe eyes swarmed comfort to your body.

“Get in the car, mi amor. It’s parked at the front. Lock the doors and wait for me there, hm?” She caressed your cheeks. You were clearly shaken up, still Sam was proud of how you nodded and tried your best to look at her. “I’ll handle this.”

Her thumb caressing gently on your hips, you look at her once again, to see not even the situation and what it holds for the man—but to see if she was truly alright. Sam reassures you again that it’ll be alright and focuses again on the man that had been bothering you.

Where the hell were your friends? Sam groaned lowly in frustration. It was good how she decided it was a good idea to wait out for you. Who knows what could have happened. She takes a glance at the man who added rain on your terrible drinking night-out. She lured him out. He was ecstatic, the idiot not even knowing his fate for tonight. Him trying to take advantage of you sealed it for himself.

Sam already figured that this would be easy, his throws starting on a terrible form, giving away how he didn’t have a proper knowledge of its basics. He might’ve been taller, but his lack of skill proved him to be useless. Sam immediately went for an opening, fist met his face then swoop his feet quite literally which hit his knees badly to the pebbled ground. He groaned out of pain, curses flowing out of his mouth.

“Please! I’ll do anything! Spare me, I haven’t- I didn’t even touch her!” He begged on his now decapacitated knees.

Sam quipped, “Should I be happy about that?”

“N-no, but–”

“You harassed her. Insisted on wanting to fuck her.”

Over a dim corner outside, Sam sighed and took out the silencer concealed in the back of her jeans, and personally shot him right in the head. She liked seeing her power over these people. Always begging for a way out, so desperate.

Her men didn’t even flinch, trained and desensitized. In another vehicle parked near to the scene, a few more men came out of it, dressed for clean up and quickly carried him out for disposal.

She didn't want things to be messy. But she had been listening to your entire conversation; unbeknownst to you that the necklace also served as a down low spy-like device for her. Sam was happy that you were quick to jump in her defense–how you trusted her. Frankly, she was afraid that her attitude and sense of ethics would be something you’d be disgusted with. Being proven otherwise, it warmed her heart, increasing her devotion tenfold if it were even possible at this point.

It was easy to lure you out of your circle of friends grasp. She thought of some point how useless your friends would be, now that you have her. Sam knows they’ll only add as a burden and mess.

As she drove the two of you back home, her free hand constantly rubbed random patterns on your exposed thigh. The streetlights were just as warm as your girlfriend’s touch. Her constant glances at you each time you were in red light. The reassuring smile that barely left her plump lips.

When you waited for her – you didn’t even care what could the man from the club could face. Was it terrible that you reveled in the high possibility of him being a dead meat?

One thing for sure is that you only had one good takeaway this evening.

With your parents out of the picture a long time ago, disapproving of your ‘lifestyle’, and siblings being far and preoccupied with their own lives — this was it for you: Sam is your family. Each time an emergency or a milestone happens to your life, only Sam is there for you, without fail.

You only needed her and she was more than enough.

"Tara wants to see you." Properly and not from afar as Sam instructed, the voice echoed in her mind. "Not today, because I want you all to myself right now. Some other time, maybe."

Your eyes crinkled. "When have you not? But yeah - I'm totally in. She was practically a baby when I last saw her." Both of you giggled at your remark.

You discovered another room in Sam’s house. Barely gone through all of them, you found out just now how she had a gaming area. Littered in between retro and modern game machines, and how it glowed differently from arcades, made it appear much inviting. Now in low lighting in the afternoon, you ended up playing pool with your girlfriend. It was a game you always sucked at; with your shitty aim and handling. Bad news for you, it’s Sam’s favorite and opposed to you, of course she was great at it.

Terribly cocky too.

Not that you minded, because she was attractive for how she flaunted it. She’s carefree with you, seemingly retracting to her playful self that gave her a youthful joy of a glow. With her dressed up in tight cycling shorts that were covered with a sweater around her midthighs; Sam looked appetizing.

Back to the game, your motor movements suffered. Each time you aim and thrust the pool stick, the ball bounced off like a fish - far from the pocket points. Missing the target was also a common mistake for you.

She laughed. “No, baby, you’re holding it wrong too.”

“How is it any different from yours?” You retort.

“It can be your posture as well and the pressure you apply when hitting. Don’t be mad now.”

Huffing, you were so close to breaking this pool stick. “Maybe if you showed me!”

Sam chuckled. She liked your adorable scrunch getting all focused to at least score a point. she gets from your behind, bodies now flushed. Her soft chuckling continues as she notices how you stiffened at the contact. It blows her mind, how years ago things were in reverse; it was her who always panicked at your comforting touch. she welcomed it, relishing each second, replaying the memory of times she missed you before meeting again. She beat herself up mentally at how different she should have approached it.

Sam shook her head, focusing on the present. she has you now and it's all that matters.

“You just have to…” She took your forearms in a grasp and smoothly ran them to your hands. “Hold it like that. Your other fingers for balance however, depend on your level of comfort. It’s a matter of practice–which is what we’re doing.”

“Is that so?” You tease her, turning your head enough to meet her face, hooded eyes greeting you. You feel Sam growing breathless much as you do.

Her hazel eyes had a specific glint to them. They beautifully shone and no doubt had a swirl of lust growing bigger onto them. You purse your lips to hide the spreading smile. Instead, you retaliate by leaning over the table exaggeratingly; practically bending over it. Sam could no longer hold back a small moan escaping her mouth.

It was a matter of a different game and Sam decides she’ll humor you.

However, it was proving to be a difficult task. You just had to rub your ass against her hips. Now practically enveloped by her, weight almost all into you. You wiggle a bit more. Then you felt something else. Fuck. Was she…packing?

She had a cocky smile now. It’s been a while since she has used this on you.

“Mmm, mi amor. And your aim? Don’t push it up like this,” She grabbed your hand to reenact it. The ball thumped as it bounced – showing how you usually hit. More of her weight was on you, her front deliciously pressed on your back. “I noticed you tend to do that.”

“Oh, do I?”

You were playing dumb now. Although, with skins inevitably brushing, it doesn't take long for the two of you to crumble and give in to do something with the tension.

“Fuck this.” Sam muttered, fingers digging on your thighs as she immediately hoisted you up to the pool table. Back of your thigh’s skin rubbed to the rough texture of its surface, somewhat adding to your gnawing hunger.

Sam was bouncing with excitement to take you in here. Mouths crashing in dire need of each other, she explored your mouth as though she hasn’t before, tugging your bottom lip until you tasted iron.

“Oh, oh… god,” you whimper.

Sam gawks at you with darkened eyes. “You think you can tease me like that?”

Your jaw slacked as Sam's teeth sunk in the skin of your neck, far from finished and continued by nibbling with pent up fervor, and the pleasure of her ministrations as the moans rolled off your tongue with ease. Her open mouthed kisses were messy against your skin but nevertheless, you welcomed her through arching your neck to give her more space to paint you red and purple.

Some of the balls clanked as you guys moved desperately, grinding on each other.

“Look at you.” She giggled and had your cheeks on a firm grip. “My pretty girl so eager to get fucked dumbly. Did you feel my cock earlier at your little tease of a show?”

You helplessly looked at her with half-lidded eyes, nodding.

“Yes, please…Sam,”

“Please what?” She mocked you, doe eyes filled with mirth. Her hands slowly moved from your cheek to your neck. Sam gives it a squeeze, making you hum in delight. “I won’t continue if you don’t use your words properly.”

“I…I want you to breed me, like you said months ago,” you murmured and looked away.

Blood rushed in your clit. You were throbbing in need and full of embarrassment. But it was the truth that you wanted to be fulfilled. You didn’t know it caught Sam in a surprise, her joy and libido had gone through the roof.

Sam relishes onto this, a wolfish smile on her features as she takes every inch of your skin with her lips and hands. And you? you can barely keep up, clung onto your girlfriend’s neck to gravitate yourself in the spiraling haze in your head, pretty sounds continuously tumbling off your mouth.

What you want, is what you’ll get.

You managed to take off your top, now almost completely bare in front of your girlfriend.

“Good girl. So, so good. I knew you had it in you, mi amor.” You’re met with Sam’s patronizing smile. You gulp in excitement at the praise she’d given you. “You remember your safe word right?” She asked as her hands wandered, pulling your own shorts down and underwear. As you nodded, a predatory look was fixed on her face. “I’m going to make you forget it, I promise.”

Her irises were ignited with a newfound desire, turned you on your back and bent over as previously, against the pool table.

Sam stroked her strap and adjusted your legs. She wanted you wide and ready. Your slick was smeared on your innermost thighs and some of them formed with strings of your arousal, greeting her as she spread you out. God, she can’t wait to ruin you.

Without warning, the skin of your pulsating hole was being dragged out by the strap's length and all you can do is whimper loudly in complaint. The head teased you a little with her pace agonizingly slow. As she pulled out though it didn't last as she decided to ram the entire length back inside of you, absolutely filling you to the brim. You moaned as it burned inside of you. Sam reach on your tits for balance as she started thrusting, picking up a pace. With all things going on at once, your eyes rolled at the back of your head and face pressed against the rough surface.

"Wait... oh my god, fuck, wait!" You trembled underneath her, your palms outward against her the table, weakly attempting to push away determined Sam. "So- so big, Sammy, I don't... oh! d-don't think, I can't!" You deeply underestimated her cock. But reeling onto it was simply addicting that you felt conflicted.

“You can and you will. You wanted this, didn’t you (y/n/n)?” She mocks you again. Sam was right, you wanted this. “Whoring yourself to me, this is the least you can do. Fucking. Take. It.” Your girlfriend punctuated each of her words with a hard thrust, each time you swore that it went deeper into your walls.

Sam was spurred on with your erotic reactions. She wanted to see your limit, see you truly fall apart. For god’s sake, you were already dripping wet, gushing and smeared all over Sam’s cock and hips. Once she found a rhythm pleasing to you both, she moaned along you as the base also met her clit – sending shocks on her end as well.

You were so fucked out right now and an orgasm was ripped out of you so suddenly. “Nngh… oh!”

Breath heaving, you felt the wetness run down your legs. Sam slowed her movements and stayed deep inside of your walls. More liquid gushed out of you, mixed with your girlfriend’s fake cum. It felt heavy and so full inside of you that you can’t get enough. It was beyond gratifying and out of body experience.

“Another one, come on. I have to fill you up to the brim,” Sam whispered against your ear, white-hot that it sent shivers down your spine. Your hips surely will bruise after this, as she resumed pounding relentlessly against the fine wood. It also made you embarrassingly more wet, too. Her pounding didn’t falter at all, Sam’s own hips still at work.

“Fuck– I….Ah!” Your eyes were squeezed shut.

Sam took pride in your current state. She gripped you tighter on your lower back and the other firm on the edge of the table. Sheer sweat already covered the two of you and the pool table continued to shake, now no longer in a prim and proper placement; instead it was crooked due to the movements that were forced upon it. You were fucking like animals.

A vast incoherent mumblings came in a slew to you. Your head pressed against the table and tears came out of the corner of your eyes. Your ears weakly register the mean giggling of Sam. The erotic sound of the skin-to-skin slapping continued to fill the space of your room, synchronizing with the creaking sound of the table. With your mouth agape, you felt the shaft being thrusted in a different angle, the cock’s tip kissing your cervix repeatedly. Sam dug so deep into you that it made you dizzy already.

“Gonna fill you up real good,” Sam continued to penetrate you mercilessly, her aggressive and determined grunts vibrating pleasingly to your body and adding to the carnal state both of you were in. It was too easy to sliver her cock in and out of you now, fully lubricated given your sopping core. “My breedable little bitch. Fuck, I’d say you’re meant for this. Meant to take this huge cock, hm?” The stretch had you bucking your hips onto Sam, gyrating along her teasing thrusts in and out. “Tell me how good it feels. How I make you feel so good.” Her honeyed voice taunting you. Begging you.

You envision Sam’s words to your heart. If only it were possible, you wouldn’t mind a single bit of carrying her child. After all, there are countless good qualities that your girlfriend beautifully possesses.

“You… you feel so fucking good against me,” A strained, throaty moan tumbled out of you. Sam hummed in your validation. “O-only you can have me- do me like this, Sammy…”

With your reassurance, came the rocking feeling of being so full again. Now Sam doesn’t move an inch, refusing to do so and determined to keep all of it plugged inside of you. You’re sure that she has moulded her entire cock out of your warm walls, stretched it out with no hesitation until it explored undiscovered spots from before.

To your shock, Sam flipped you again. It was insane how she recovered so quickly. Almost buck naked she sat now on the pool table and made you come up to ride her properly. She’s met with barely a resistance on your pussy as she easily shoved it up again with no trouble, moaning loudly and growling possessively as the curve of her length faintly made its outline known to your lower tummy’s skin.

“God you look so beautiful with my cock inside of you.” Her grunts were vivid as Sam’s white hot breath directly hit your ears. You feel your core gush more wetness, body all feverish, loving how she's also desperate and enjoying this much as you do.

She needs you. She admires you. Sam wants all of you.

You bounced helplessly and cried some more, to the point that your safeword dangerously hovered on the tip of your tongue. Until finally, Sam emptied out her fake cum inside of you – some of them dribbling down and smeared some more. Both of you were heavily breathing and Sam balanced your bodies – yours being slumped and weak against her, breathing ragged and eyelids heavy. You were fully spent and satisfied.

“So beautiful. Are you alright, mi amor?” Sam asked in pure concern. The lust on her eyes slowly dissipated, soft and only focused on your current state.

“Y-yes,”

Then a person barges in. You’re pretty sure that it’s a man who just squealed. He caught the sight of you and your girlfriend in a compromising position. You jump slightly and it was a bad idea, because one: you are naked, and two: Sam was still nestled deep inside of you. She also grunted at your accidental rocking.

Your stomach churned as you and Sam sober up quickly. Of course, you didn't like being seen like this if it weren’t only for Sam’s eyes to perceive you unashamedly. As expected, Sam hurriedly covered you first – fast and most as she can, at least. Your back was turned away from the man who entered the room, facing the wall.

Meanwhile, Sam had her chin tilted up, seemingly exasperated. If it weren't for your comforting touch on her forearm, she's sure of combusting in a messier manner, sporting the intimidating signature look on her demeanor. She almost looked unrecognizable with her cold and unamused gaze.

"I instructed you to knock three times." Sam quipped with a deep voice. “The receiver was also there, was it not? You could have buzzed in and waited outside.”

"Miss Loomis.. I- I- I did, I knocked before—”

Being in closer proximity to her, you felt some wetness gush out of your pussy. Blood rushed on your cheeks, as you made the previously pristine and high-end of a pool table now all messy and coated of your fluid. You caught a sliver of Sam’s defined hipbones and lines in her abdomen were prominent more than ever. She tucked her strap back as she pulled the cycling shorts up as quickly as she could. The room felt still for what feels like hours.

"And is that enough? I strictly told you to never enter, especially when I’m with my partner."

Sam had a scrutinizing look over him. She’s more than fucking pissed. The mob boss has never seen his face before. It must've been a new recruit. If it were any other mistake, maybe Sam would have spared him.

But no, he had to walk in while you were naked.

She bent down to reach underneath the pool table. She retrieves a gun. Your eyes widen but she hushes you, reassuring that everything is fine. although her eyes expressed the clear fuming with her jaw clenched, you gulped at the sight.

Sam scoffed, she hated being messy in front of you. For her, increases the likely of you leaving her. "Don't turn around." She orders you still with gentleness lace on her tone. "I mean it. Just… stay here."

Okay, you're more than fine with the sight.

Definitely so wet and turned on.

Sam moves and so does the man. Out of the room, you hear a few clicks and the cocking sound of the gun – the metal, spring, and unlocking of the weapon and you don't look further than that. And with the door slightly ajar, there's a loud sound that clearly indicates a shot. It's quick and followed with a heavy thud. A clear shot has been made. Your eyes widened. It rang your ears a little but it soon faded.

"What the hell was that?"

"He's a dumb one, a new recruit." Your girlfriend replied blankly. She fluidly moves around the room and reaches for her phone, eyes not leaving your naked body. "I need you to do some cleaning up- uh huh. in here, near the living room- second one, yes." Then she quickly hung up.

"I hate being interrupted. He had to ruin it. Almost saw you, too. I'm sorry baby, but I had to finish him off.”

Sam sighed and rubbed her temple. She wasn't a fan of losing control in front of her beloved. Although this one tested her greatly, feeling an immense protectiveness, she didn't like one bit having any of her men seeing you in this vulnerable and naked state. Prancing around normally as though your sight isn't engraved in their filthy little dimwit brains. Now she worried only about your reaction; knowing your initial response was to run away, same as you did after opening up to her even then. She always pulled you close—held you tighter—whenever you did.

She left a tender kiss behind your ear. You were immediately flooded with comfort. Her touch had a tendency to numb your worries down. It was familiar and gentle. Were you afraid? Surprisingly, you were not.

Out of all times you’ve seen her ‘lose’ it – was seemingly always out of making sure that you're safe, free from worries, gives you enough room as much as she can (knowing that Sam cannot resist invading your personal space) and has done anything to harm you in any way.

Sure, she just killed in front of you. But now, you can care less – knowing what your girlfriend’s nature and work entails. Besides, she has done it in your honor. In a twisted way, you interpreted it as a sign of her unwavering commitment to you; that you’ve always been a family to her – one that she plans on building one with, anyway. So instead, you reach to cradle Sam’s cheek and pressed a lingering kiss on her irresistible burgundy lips.

“You have me, always. Don’t worry.” You profess to her - a promise you intend to keep.

Sam grinned, visibly relaxing. Finally you fully understood her viewpoint.

Does it make you equally sick? Who the hell knows.

taglist: @not-alesha, @women-lover-kisser , @bluetreecloud20 , @danniackerman , @natsbraids , @melissabarreraswife , @bratydoll , @fantasylandbitch , @rocknr0ll , @mokotodenis123 , @deliriosinrose , @red1culous , @jennasoneanonly , @gaylorvader , @pixielovers2account **i can't tag others? :[

#gg.writes #sam carpenter x fem reader #sam carpenter x you #sam carpenter smut #sam carpenter x reader #sam carpenter x female reader #sam loomis #lesbian #wlw #fanfic #au #scream vi

1K notes · View notes

seeingivy · 6 months

Text

high infidelity

satoru gojo x f!reader

do you really wanna know where I was april 29th?

**part of my satoru as taylor swift songs series

content: infidelity (omg who knew), yn is a doctor, satoru gets injured and haha ur still my emergency contact's his way back into your life, megumi and yuuji flirting side quest, a big hot flaming mess of writing this is actually so bad

an: no one say anything to me about this fic actually. or the fact that I made everyone do a poll about which taylor as gojo to write just to not write either of those options and produce a flaming, hot wreck of garbage. anyways, live love high infidelity this song will always be special to me because on april 29th, I was indeed, at the eras tour seeing mother for the first time

You swallow hard as the waitress walks up again, with that sheepish, awkward smile on her face. And you dread the unrelenting, embarrassing question that’s going to follow. One that she’s already asked, three times.

“Are you still waiting for someone or would you like to order?”

And you’re not sure why, but the fact that she asks the question, in that phrasing, in that tone, is enough to aggravate the very thin patience you already have. Because really, it’s quite possibly the stupidest question she could have asked.

Clearly, you are still waiting for someone. You’ve been sitting here for the past hour and a half. If you were really intent on eating at this restaurant alone, then you would have ordered the second they seated you.

And it’s rude, abrasive even. To ask, to relentlessly question, three times. Because obviously, you feel horrible for taking the table, when there’s a line of people patiently waiting by the door. And it’s not your fault that your boyfriend is late. And really, it’s just humiliating, that she keeps throwing it in your face, that you’re sitting here, alone when he should be here making you feel special.

You sigh, giving her a halfhearted smile.

“Can I have twenty more minutes? I promise I’ll leave after that and let you give the table to someone else.”

She smiles, genuine and sweet, as she places her hand on your shoulder and makes a promise to bring some more bread before you leave.

The premise of it - the fact that she smiled in earnest and must know that you feel horrible, that she has her own deposit of pity for you - has you bringing your fingers up to your forehead and massaging that small, pulsating feeling by your temples. Because here you were, mentally cussing out the poor girl working minimum wage at the restaurant when the real subject of your wrath couldn’t even be bothered to show up.

And you hate that the negativity, the frustrations of the situation, seem to bleed into everything else. Because you’ll find yourself being upset with Yuri, but then suddenly it turns into a blind agitation to everything. The barista, for not making your coffee right, your co-workers asking to switch shifts so they can go on a trip with their partners, the laundry machine when it stops working.

Your phone starts incessantly buzzing on the table, the smallest glimmer of hope sparking in your chest at the sound. And instantly dies, when you realize it’s just the Emergency Room calling you.

You slide open the call, pressing the phone to your ear.

“This is Tokyo Metropolitan Hospital. Is this a miss Y/N L- wait.” Megumi states into the phone, mumbling off the speaker.

You press the phone harder to your ear, to try to catch the end of the conversation that Yuuji must be having with Megumi.

“Y/N. Right, hi!” he states, voice halfheartedly cheery, which is already odd enough for him.

“Hi Megumi. Why are you calling me on my day off?” you deadpan, that backlogged deposit of irritation coming in hot and fresh for the sweetest resident you have.

��Right. Um, we have a mister Satoru Gojo in the Emergency Room who has you listed as his Emergency Contact. He’s kind of in bad shape so we were going to call regarding-”

“Gojo? I’ll be there in ten.” you respond, shoving the phone into your purse and leaving the tip flat on the tablecloth. You give the waitress - standing there with that restocked bread in her hand - a polite wave on the way out and speed as fast as you can to the hospital.

You march into the ER, rubbing warmth into your biceps, to find Megumi at the nurses station, as always, flirting with the pink haired student nurse he’s taken a keen liking to.

“Hey. Where is he?” you ask, Yuuji and Megumi turning their heads to give you half hearted smiles. It’s only the start of the night shift, but by the way their shoulders are already sagging, you can tell whoever has to deal with them has a long night ahead of them.

“Right sooooo. We can’t decipher any of his paperwork. We need you to read it first and then you can see him. He’s in room eleven.” Yuuji states, giving a peachy smile, as you scan over Gojo’s characteristic illegible handwriting.

“Jesus. He still writes like a twelve year old.” you murmur, filling out the sheet at the side with all the information Yuuji needed.

“You’re all dressed up, teach. What’s the occasion?” Megumi asks, lazily leaning his cheek in the palm of his hand.

“Ah. It’s my one year anniversary with Yuri. We were supposed to go to dinner.” you mumble, scratching the last of the information on the sheet and handing it to Yuuji.

You feel a hand sling around your shoulder and a distinct smell of smoke, only to find Shoko hanging off your frame.

“And yet here you are, because he didn’t show up.” she murmurs, earning you a set of wide eyes as you glare at Shoko. Because at their core, Yuuji and Megumi are first, definitely crushing on each other, and second, nosy as hell.

“And here you are. Destroying every last cell in your lungs, that are eagerly, earnestly begging you to stop.” you deadpan.

She flicks your nose as you finish filling out the sheet and reading through the paramedics report that was attached to his paperwork.

“Please tell me you attacked Yuri at the dinner table and that’s why you’re here. Fork to the hand? Spoon in the eye? Knife to the dick?” Shoko asks, excitedly.

“Didn’t you like take an oath? For the preservation of human life?” Megumi deadpans.

“No. I skipped that day of medical school.” Shoko replies.

“Gojo’s here, I’m still his emergency contact.” you respond back, giving her a pointed glare.

“What happened?”

You turn your head expectantly to Megumi, who obliges.

“His car got t-boned. He’s pretty roughed up.” Megumi responds.

You give Shoko a weary look, as you march to the other side of the unit, preparing yourself for whatever roughed up version of Gojo you were about to be greeted with. Because every interaction with Gojo was a rush of emotions - good, bad, sweet, and ugly - but this might be the biggest thing you’ve ever had to stomach yet.

“So. Who is this Satoru guy? I’ve never heard of him before.” Megumi asks Shoko, giving Yuuji an all knowing glance.

“Her ex-boyfriend.” Shoko responds.

“No way. Before that asshat Yuri?” Yuuji asks, suddenly too invested in the story all together.

“Well, obviously. He taught as a professor at the same medical school she attended.”

“Y/N dated a professor?” Megumi asks, tone incredulous.

“I mean that’s one way to get through I guess.” Yuuji adds.

Shoko smacks the top of Yuuji’s head, earning a fit of laughter from the two of them for his stupid comment.

“You need to focus on your nursing exams instead of flirting with Megumi on your fifteen. It would do you some good to flirt with your preceptor. And no, he was just a fellow doing research at the time. They were best friends for a good few years, had that whole will they won’t they vibe going on.” Shoko responds.

“So….did they?” Megumi asks.

“They did. To be honest, I can’t really remember why they broke up. Something stupid.” Shoko shrugs, giving the two of them shoves on the shoulder before walking past the hall, to find you standing in front of the door. Your hand is resting against the handle, but you have yet to yank down and push yourself in.

“Are you warming up the handle or…?”

You’re thrown out of your train of thought to find Shoko at your side, hands buried deep in her white coat as she gives you a weary glance. To anyone else, Shoko would seem wildly disinterested, almost annoyed at how you were acting. But you know better and can see that small twinge of concern buried under her long eyelashes, the hint of it in her voice.

“Oh. Um…no. Just got lost in thought.” you murmur, staring at the faded eleven on the marker.

“About?”

You swallow hard, the warm tears filling your eyes.

“I haven’t talked to him in so long. And the last time we talked we were arguing over…..leaving dishes in the sink. Breaking up. If I walk in there and he’s dead, that’s going to be the last thing I ever said to him.” you whisper, air grating against your throat.

Shoko puts a hand on your shoulder and squeezes once..

“He’s not dead. The monitor tech would have picked up on that.”

“The monitor tech? Are we talking about the same monitor tech? Because Nobara is too busy flirting with the phlebotomist Maki to ever do her job. They’re worse than Megumi and Yuuji.”

Shoko scoffs, before rolling her eyes at you.

“No one is worse than Megumi and Yuuji. Yuuji knocked the entire crash cart over when he clocked in because Megumi complimented his Star Wars themed scrubs.”

You snort, shaking your head, as you take a deep breath in and push the handle down. Shoko gives you a warm smile as you walk in and flick the lights on, only to see Satoru, sitting up in bed and lazily scrolling through the TV channels.

He looks over at you first, his eyes going wide, as you walk up to him and cup the side of his cheek. The tears that were welling in your eyes are falling in full flesh, at the sight of him all battered and bruised.

His snow white hair is matted red, an angry, glaring scratch on his forehead. His arm is littered with tiny cuts, with a good amount of dressing on his torso, the red blood already seeping through and the look on his face so broken and tired that it makes your heart twinge.

“Satoru.”

He smiles, albeit a little confused, as he looks up at you and brings his hand up to yours, where it’s resting against your face.

“Hey princess.”

You laugh through your sprout of tears, which has the smallest smile turning up on his cut up lips and the soft, faint smile lines appearing near his eyes.

“You here to patch me up, doc?” he whispers.

You shake your head incessantly, which has him rolling his eyes.

“Not today.”

“Shame. I heard having sex is really good for patient recovery.”

You smack his shoulder, biting hard down on your cheeks that Satoru Gojo, in full flesh, is okay. Because he still has the audacity to flirt with you, even when he’s near death in the hospital.

“I’m going to look at your chart, okay?”

You let go of his face and find yourself in front of the computer, logging in with your credentials, and trying to pull up his chart as fast as you can.

“If I found out you got into this accident because you were trying to find the perfect song before you got home, I’m going to put your head on a stick, Satoru Gojo” you murmur, earning a laugh from him.

“First and foremost, you always have to close the drive home on a banger. Sue me.”

“I think I might just.”

“And contrary to your beliefs, this accident actually wasn’t my fault. They crashed into me, naturally, because I do no wrong. Ever.” he states.

“Right.” you chuckle.

You read over the report, making it a point to berate Yuuji for his shitty charting later, as you look through his vital signs and blood cultures that were taken when he arrived here.

“So do all doctors dress like they’re about to go clubbing or is it just you?”

You look down, only now noticing that you’re still wearing the a-line dress from the dinner you were supposed to have with Yuri. You make a mental note to shoot him a text after checking with Satoru after, knowing all too well that with how busy Yuri is, you standing him up would throw him over the edge.

“Just me. I really love to put on a show for my patients, Gojo. And what clubs are you going to where people dress like this?” you mutter, clicking through the scans that were taking.

“I appreciate the lengths you go to for me. It’s always what I loved about you. And I exclusively attend Taylor Swift night at the Underground” he states, placing his hands on his chest.

You look over and glare at him, before reading through the treatment plan. When you look over Nanami’s notes, you feel your heart drop and turn over to look at him. At his bright, blue eyes so wide and unaware, the look on his face so…innocent it bothers you. That in a few hours, he’s going to be in unspeakable pain while he recovers.

The door opens and Nanami and Yuuta are standing at the door, Nanami already scoffing at you.

“That’s confidential patient information, Dr. L/N.” Nanami states, voice stern. He hands you a jacket, which you pull on, as you hike your hands under your biceps and talk to him.

“You were going to tell me all of it anyways. So…what’s the plan here?” you grumble, settling next to Gojo at the side of his bed, placing your hands in his nearly pink hair.

“Well. I’m going to-”

“The surgical resident has to be Yuuta, I don’t trust that dumbass Todo to do it. You have to use prolene stitches, I don’t want his skin to scar and don’t leave him under for too long. He’s never been one to suit medications well. Don’t play any rap music when you’re operating, he hates that type of stuff and-”

Nanami puts his hands square on your shoulders, squeezing once.

“Thank you, Dr. L/N. We’ll talk all details after, okay?” Nanami states, voice soft, as you turn over to look at Gojo.

Gojo gives you a weak smile, which you return, before pushing his hair off of his forehead, and lightly brushing through the white tresses as he looks at them.

“Give it to me straight, Kento Bento.” Satoru states, earning an eye roll from Nanami who's clearly unamused. But you can tell he doesn’t mind it all too much, because in the monotony of shitty patients, he’s always been one to appreciate the sweet jokesters. And Satoru’s the biggest clown there is.

“It’s a relatively easy procedure, Satoru. We’re just going to go in and repair the damage that you sustained to your digestive tract from the crash. Do you have any questions for me?” Nanami asks.

“Can I request that she’s not in there when it happens?” Satoru asks, looking up at you.

“Hey. I can-”

“Yes. We’ll make sure of it.” Yuuta responds.

“Thank you, Yuuta.” Gojo responds, giving him a smile.

“We’ll be around in an hour to take you to surgery.” Nanami states, ignoring the pointed glare you were giving him as he strolls out of the room.

You turn to Gojo, the overstimulation of the past ten minutes really hitting you, as you feel your brain short circuit while he’s looking at you. You try to focus on the sensation of his hair in your hand and that pulsating beat that you’ve been feeling for his wrist, but you can’t really process any of it.

Every high and low you’ve experienced in the past few minutes - the elation in Gojo’s voice, the pain from seeing him suffering, how he’s still the same as you left him- it’s enough to abandon any rational thought processes from occurring in your head. And it leaves you standing there, silently, with your hands on him.

“Hi Y/N.”

“Hi ‘Toru.”

He smiles at the nickname, reaching forward to lace his fingers through yours.

“I was driving and then…I wasn’t. I looked up and all I could see was the stoplight above me, then the flashing lights of the ambulance, and now…you….looking at me like that. Your brain isn’t the only one hurting right now.”

“Looking at you ike what?” you murmur.

“Like you’re in pain, Y/N.” he states, emphasizing his syllables.

You shake your head, fighting down that wave of worry that’s sitting in your skin.

“You know, Kento’s a really good doctor. And Yuuta…he’s like the most promising surgical resident. And even then, I-I can get another senior surgeon if you don’t want a student. And-and it really won’t hurt that bad and I’ll make sure they give you all the good meds and-”

“Y/N.”

“Sorry. I’m sorry. I’m rambling. I know you’ve always hated that and I just-”

“I don’t hate it. Just, slow down for a second…talk me through all this because I really don’t know what’s going on and you know I don’t like not knowing.”

You pull up the chair, messing with his hands as you talk.

“You have to get surgery. The impact you had when you crashed led to-”

“Y/N. I know all of that already. I’m asking about you.”

You frown, swallowing hard, as you run your fingers along the scratch on his knuckles.

“You never update your current information.”

“Huh?”

“You….you never canceled the stupid Hulu subscription when we got the Disney Plus bundle. And you kept having to trek all the way across town to get the mail, because you forgot to change the address when we moved, and you-”

“I don’t really see how-”

“You forgot to change your emergency contact, Satoru. After we broke up, you-you forgot to call them and tell them that they shouldn’t call me.” you hum, as Gojo’s hand tightens in it’s hold around yours.

“Oh shit, Y/N. Sweetheart, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

You lurch up from your chair, tangling your arms around his neck as you crackle his head into your frame, that incessant stream of tears pouring down your eyes as he brings his own arms around yours.

And it feels too fast, because suddenly Nanami and Yuuta are back at your sides, giving you sympathetic glances as they wheel Gojo away and you’re left standing in the hallway, flat against the wall, every horrible outcome of the next four hours playing through your head.

On hour five, already a bad sign, you’re sitting flat against the floor with a jello cup in your hand and in Megumi’s spare pair of scrubs. They’re both sitting at your sides, the dead quiet of the night shift leaving them with you.

“Kento likes to be really careful, Y/N. That’s all it is.” Megumi states, giving his best attempts at calm reassurance.

“And Yuuta’s great. We all love Yuuta, he’s sweet….intelligent. He’s more than capable to do this.” Yuuji adds.

You crack through every last bone in your finger, the entire interaction playing over in your head.

“I-I just went in there so fast. And the time was so…so short that I didn’t even say much to him.” you respond, sighing.

“When’s Yuri coming?”

You turn your head to the side, in confusion, before you register Yuji’s words all together.

“Why would he-”

You panic, remembering that you had never texted Yuri back, that he’s probably fuming in his own pit of rage right now at his apartment, cursing your name to god knows what degree. You reach for your phone in your pocket, only to find no notifications from him. You scroll up on the chat, only to find that he hadn’t texted you the entire day, yesterday.

His last text read April 28th, a reminder that he needed you to pick up his drycleaning for his golf game this weekend.

“He’s really an asshole, isn’t he?” you spit.

You see Megumi and Yuuji give each other wide eyed looks over the top of your head, as you click your phone shut and let it fall to the ground.

Because in the dim lights of this hospital, with Satoru’s blood, some of it still smeared on the side of your hand, you feel like you’re seeing clearly for the first time in years.

That really, Yuri in actuality, is not the one for you. And it’s not that he’s a bad guy, he’s honorable in some sense really, but what he gives isn’t even a fraction close to what you want.

He’s tall and lanky. The type of guy to represent every portion of the food triangle in the three meals he ate. He wakes up at five in the morning to go to the gym before an entire day at work, and still somehow finds time to read and run a personal wellness blog when he gets home.

He’s classy, in every sense of the term. The exact type of man you envision when you think of someone put together, wholly and fully. On top of their shit, living their best life, one that people aspired to.

And that was in no way what you wanted.

You wanted Satoru. Satoru who convinces you that there’s still enough room for a little treat after dinner, despite the fact that you both stuffed yourself full at the restaurant. He sleeps in late on the weekends, pressing lazy kisses to your skin to wake you up before entirely botching the whole breakfast in bed thing he was trying to impress you with.

He was real, in every sense of the term. The type of person you envision when you imagine the person you wanted to spend the rest of your life with. He’s funny, he’s kind and he most certainly would never leave you stranded at a restaurant on your one year anniversary. Because Satoru Gojo certainly wasn’t classy, but he was honorable. And if he promised to be somewhere, he’d be there early, making sure everything was perfect before you got there.

And right now, two of your most trusted co-workers had their hands inside his body cavity, trying to fix the mess in there.

When Gojo comes to, there’s an aching soreness in his torso and neck. He can feel the tense pressure around his arms too, bandages wrapped around every square inch of his body. But that warm feeling around his wrist was entirely different from the rest.

He opens his eyes to find you, fast asleep with your head down on the side of his bed and your hand secured tightly around his wrist. Your breaths are slow, so deep in your sleep that you don’t even process Satoru moving around you amidst your slumber.

He brings his hand down to your hair and watches you lean into his touch, nuzzling your head closer to the blanket. Your hair is messy at this point, bunched up at the top of your head in the messiest knot he’s seen you sport yet.

There’s a knock at the door and Yuuji is standing there, a small smile on his face.

“Good morning, Mr. Gojo. Welcome back.”

Satoru smiles as he moves to his side and starts to hook him up to the monitors, taking a set of fresh vitals.

“How are you feeling?”

“Just sore, Yuuji. How are you?”

“Ah. Night shift. Same old.”

“Is that little emo you like here?”

Satoru watches Yuuji’s cheeks go bright pink, as he starts fumbling with the cuff around his hand.

“Ah, you mean, Megumi? Y/N’s resident? No, he-he’s off tonight.” he stumbles.

“Shame. Nothing like flirting on the night shift.” Satoru states, clicking his tongue.

“Oh, I don’t flirt with-”

“Well, you should. He’s cute. And a doctor. Someone is going to snatch him up real fast.” Satoru states, definitively.

“Mr. Gojo, I don’t know if-”

“Trust me. I know all too well. People swoop in for the doctors before you can even fight to get them back.” Satoru states, reaching down to tuck your hair behind your ear.

“Well, I-”

“I’m just saying, kid. Swoop in before it’s too late.” he states, giving him a smile.

“Yeah. Sure, I-I will. Do you need anything else, Mr. Gojo?”

“Can you get her a blanket? She always gets allergies when it’s too drafty in the room she’s sleeping in.”

Yuuji smiles, tapping on the railings of the bed.

“Sure thing.”

And Yuuji curses himself for doing it, for meddling, but he pokes his head into the room one last time before leaving.

“And just so you know. You….sometimes you think it’s too late to swoop. But it’s actually like…the perfect time. To swoop….like a bird or something, I don’t know-” Yuuji stammers.

And when Yuuji leaves and Gojo is able to process his words, he’s trying his best to wipe the smile off of his face.

“Hey, Megs. How are his vitals today?” you ask, swiveling over in your chair.

Megumi, irritated with your constant pestering, has had enough of his fill today. He swings his own chair around, tugging at the stethoscope around his neck, as he glares at you.

“For the hundredth time, your little boo boo bear is just fine. We’re planning to discharge tomorrow.”

You frown, reaching for the closest item - a roll of gauze - and throw it square in his face.

“He’s not my boo boo bear. And I’m just checking. You know he could have complications after the surgery like inf-”

“Infection, hypotension, septic shock, multiple system organ failure, yeah yeah. I know. I graduated top of my class at medical school, you know?”

“And yet here you are, being taught by Shoko. You’re clearly not that great if you’re being trained by a girl who cheated her way through medical school.”

“I’m going to leave. And when I’m gone, you’re going to be really pissed because you’re going to be stuck with some idiot that can’t even take vitals.” Megumi deadpans, swiveling back to his computer.

“No, you’re not. You’d never leave your boo boo bear hanging. Especially since he’s planning on asking you on a date tomorrow.”

“He’s not asking me on a date.” Megumi responds.

You smile, trying to swallow your laugh as you respond.

“Oh, sure he is. And-”

Your phone timer goes off, as you gleefully sprint out of your chair, and down the hall to Satoru’s room. Nanami’s in there, unwrapping his bandages, as you knock and enter to make your presence known. At the sight of you, Nanami’s glaring as you drag the chair up and sit at his side.

“Y/N. You should be working.”

“I’m on my lunch. And I’m allowed to do whatever I want for lunch.”

“You should eat something, Y/N. Instead of bothering our patients.” Nanami scolds, as he shuts the door behind you and you turn to Satoru.

Satoru looks way better, the bruising on his skin fading to yellow and the cuts all around his skin healing. He’s smiling softly, a hand cupping your cheek as he talks.

“Good morning, Y/N.”

“Hi Satoru.”

“You know, you really should eat something on your lunch break.”

“You know, you really should keep your annoying opinions to yourself.” you respond.

He scoffs, moving his hand to mess up your hair, as you swat his hands off.

“So.” Satoru states.

“So?”

“A little birdie told me that you broke up with Yuri last night.”

“Well, your little birdie was wrong. As nosy as he is, he clearly doesn’t know how to listen.”

You both laugh, Gojo slightly dejected by your response, as you lace your hands through his, and smile at your hands firmly pressed together.

“Yuuji’s got a bad case of the chismosa virus.”

“And you don’t? I heard you giggling with Shoko at the nurses station about how the emo is going to ask Yuuji on a date.”

“No, Yuuji's asking Megumi on the date. And okay, but that’s actually a big deal. I’ve been trying to set that up for months.”

“Well, you can’t take credit because I’m actually the one who got Yuuji to do it.”

You frown, reaching forward to pinch his cheeks.

“Shut up. It’s only the months of build up, that I basically created, that’s making him do it.”

“Well, I pushed him over the edge. So it’s my victory.”

You sigh, sitting back in your chair as you smile at him, at how easily you both fall back into this.

“How about we both did it?” you ask, giving him a smile.

“Sure. We always did make a good team.” he responds, making your cheeks burn.

You reach for his blanket and start moving his gown to inspect the incision, trying to make sure that the site wasn’t getting infected, from when you checked yesterday. .

“Okay, pervert. I didn’t realize you were into voyeurism.” Satoru says, incredulously.

“Gojo. Do you even know what voyeurism means?”

“Yeah. It’s people who like to have sex in public.”

You snort, moving the edge of the gown as you note the clean sutures, healing well along the length of his torso.

“That is not what voyeurism means, dumbass.”

“Sorry. I didn’t realize I was fighting with the sex kink expert here.”

“I-I’m not a sex kink expert! You’re just fucking stupid.”

“Oh, shut up.”

You roll your eyes, as you settle back into the chair, reaching forward to cup his face. He smiles, soft and warm, which you return.

“You’re healing really well. It’ll just be a faint line, right around your torso when you’re out of here.” you murmur.

“It kinda looks like I got my legs cut off and someone sewed them back on.” he murmurs.

“That’s not funny.” you deadpan, glaring at him.

“Kinda funny. That’s a really unfortunate way to die.” he responds.

“I know there’s a universe out there where that actually happens to you. And I know for a fact that Satoru doesn’t think it’s funny at all.”

“Okay, Doctor Strange. Let’s pipe down there, alright? Even if that did happen to me, I’d come back from it. Because guess what?”

“Don’t say it.” you groan.

“Because I’m the strongest.”

“You know that never gets less annoying right?”

“You love it.” he responds, reaching forward to pinch your cheek.

You look down, at your hand tangled in Satoru’s as you find a way to broach the topic. That for all intents and purposes, that you want nothing to do with Yuri. That you want him, that you do love his stupid jokes, that you’d beg on your hands and knees for him to take you back because-

“Do you want to go to the aquarium on Friday?” Satoru asks.

“The aquarium?”

“Yeah. We can take a picnic basket, eat on the lawn outside afterwards.” Satoru says.

You swallow the lump in your throat, aggressively nodding in response.

“Yeah. That sounds nice. We can um-carpool.”

“Sure. It’s a date.” he responds, leaning into his pillow with a soft smile on his face.

You bite down the stupid smile that’s rising to your cheeks, as you close your eyes, humming in agreement.

“Yeah. It’s a date.” you whisper back.

Eight days after the fact and Yuri, in his infinite wisdom, finally comes through. That’s when he musters the courage to bring himself to your apartment, where Satoru has been staying with you since he was discharged. And when Satoru answers the door, Yuri’s all levels of pissed.

“Who are you?” Yuri asks.

“I’m the owner of this house.” Gojo responds, trying not to laugh at his own joke.

“Did Y/N move?”

“No, dumbass. It was a joke.” he responds, rolling his eyes.

Satoru leans off of the door frame, calling for you, as you join him at his side.

“Hey, you okay? I was planning on making lunch for- oh.”

Satoru smiles, reaching forward to ruffle your hair, before he shuffles away.

“Holler if you need me.”

You shoot Satoru a grateful smile, infinitely thankful that the two of you were able to pick up right where you left off, as you turn to Yuri in your doorway.

“Where were you on Saturday?” he asks, arms crossed over his chest.

You swallow hard, rehearsing the speech you had prepared with Satoru when you were tangled in his arms last night, and make your best attempt to deliver the blow the best you can.

“Yuri. I think we should stop seeing each other.”

“What?”

“I just don’t think that we’re really compatible. You and I are…on different wavelengths. And you deserve someone who is better suited to you and your….interests.” you murmur, awkwardly rubbing your arms on your arms.

In actuality, you feel a little bit bad. That technically, you might have been…a little bit dishonest with Yuri. Because you’re having this conversation with him, days after the fact, when you’ve already done god knows what with Gojo in the past few days he’s been back with you. He’s all but living in your apartment at this point, under the premise of needing twenty four hour medical support, when really, you’re both just soaking up on time you lost.

Time is so precious, that you forgot to tell Yuri until he showed up, on your doorstep. You finally understand why Yuri was late to things, because whatever he was doing when he wasn’t with you, must have been keeping him occupied the way this was keeping you occupied.

Because you kept planning on calling him, but then Gojo would take you out to breakfast. Or you’d sleep in too late and then knew that you’d be interrupting Yuri at work. And the list, it went on and on and led you to this moment and it’s painfully awkward.

And maybe it’s bad, a little bit evil even, but that small bit of bad feeling is overshadowed by every bit of good that you’ve felt in the past few days. At Gojo ordering dessert out of nowhere, that he insists he’s sharing with you before he eats almost the entire thing, or when he drags you to the bathroom when he’s doing his night time hair care routine.

“Where were you? On Saturday?”

“Look, I just got called into work, okay?”

“Are you…are you serious? Don’t tell me you’re really dating that dumbass who just answered the door?”

“Frankly, it’s none of your business who I date anymore because you…you aren’t really a part of my life anymore. And we’re not dating, we’re just-”

“God. He flashes one pretty smile at you and you go running back to him? Need I remind you, that you complained about him for months on end. About how he’s messy, he’s careless, he’s-”

“That stuff doesn’t matter. At least not anymore.”

“You’re a bitch, you know that?”

You feel Gojo padding behind you, and you put your hand up in the air, signaling for him to stay where he is.

“Do you really want to know where I was on April 29th? On our one year anniversary, I was sitting in a shitty restaurant, for an hour and a half waiting for you to show up. When I hadn’t heard from you all day. And then I got a call, that the man that I love was in the hospital, and then I was at his side. Willing him to wake up, because I would be so fucking angry, so fucking pissed if he died and I didn’t get to tell him that he meant the world to me.”

Yuri swallows hard, the look of betrayal etched on his face.

“Are you trying to hurt me right now? Do you get some kind of sick gratification from killing the one you love?” he asks.

“I’d argue that my way is nicer actually. One fell swoop, with the truth out there. The slowest way to kill someone is never loving them enough. And honestly, it’s just cruel. And of course, something that you were too skilled at.”

You’re not sure what it is about what you said, but suddenly Yuri’s stomping down the hallway and you’re shutting the door, as the tears start pouring out of your eyes and you’re leaning against the door.

Now that Yuri’s gone, Satoru’s shed all his inhibitions and he’s cradling you straight in his arms, his soft voice cooing in your ear as you hiccup into his chest.

“Hey. You did so good, princess.”

“I-I’m not crying because I’m sad. I still…I still want you, you know?”

Satoru smiles, bringing his hands up to cup your cheeks in his hand and wipe your tears away.

“I know that, sweetheart. I’m irresistible.” he murmurs.

You lightly shove him, before resting your head against his torso, hearing the rapid beating of his heart under your ear.

“I’m just really relieved. That you-that you’re-”

You look up, at his sparkling blue eyes, the tiny fractals of color like perfectly constructed, charted constellations in his eyes.

“I’m glad you’re here. Again.”

He smiles wide, leaning forward to press his lips to your forehead.

“Me too, yeah?”

the satoru as taylor swift songs series masterlist

taglist:

@porridgesblog @k0z3me @kayleegomez @yihona-san06 @bsenpai @sweetenertea @skzismyhome @mykyoon @violetmatcha @rebeccawinters @luna0713hunter @shotenvinsoot @itzmeme

lmk if you would like to be added to my taylor as gojo or my general masterlist in the replies or inbox <3

419 notes · View notes