#the arm vein and biceps……FUCK I have to devour him
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he stands so cuntily
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wearing his clothes - Charles Leclerc
Y/N x Charles Leclerc
Theme: Smutish
Charles catches you wearing his clothes, and he needs to put in some work to get it back x
word count: 1900
taglist: @game-set-canet
open for requests :)
In the soft glow of the bedroom, you open the closet, looking at a display of your boyfriend's clothes. Charles owns so many pretty clothes, but one item in particular caught your attention once he brought it back from his latest photoshoot.
A beautiful black leather jacket, slim fit, tight—just the way he and you like it. Charles sent you the pictures right after the shoot, but seeing him actually wear those clothes blew your mind.
Right now, he is busy getting ready for a boy's night out with his closest friends. You saw him through the open door, running his fingers through his hair and styling it—a beautiful sight. You assume, as much as he loves that jacket, that he wants to wear it tonight.
At the same time, you know how much he loves seeing you wearing his clothes, and you want to use that to your advantage by teasing him a little and putting him in the right mood for today.
Looking through his closet, you find a few gorgeous jackets and designer clothes, and all of them tickle your fancy. However, that leather jacket is what you need.
"There you are." You carefully take it out of the closet and look at it. What a beautiful piece of clothing!
Just then, you hear his voice echo through the hallway. "Y/N? Have you seen my rings?" Charles exclaimed.
With a coy smile, you drape his leather jacket over your shoulders and slip inside, one arm at a time, savoring your boyfriend's familiar scent that envelopes you. The supple material embraces you, carrying his scent like a secret promise.
You catch a glimpse of yourself inside the mirror, his jacket hanging just right, accentuating the contours of your figure. The soft hum of anticipation fills the room as you hear footsteps approaching. Turning around to watch the doorhandle move, the jacket sets comfortably against your skin.
The door eases open, revealing him, his hair nicely done, his sweater, pants, and shoes flattering his well-formed physique perfectly.
"Y/N. I found the rings." Charles soft voice fills the room when his gaze falls upon you. Instantly, his eyes widen with surprise, and a grin forms on his lips. "Oh, hello." He says, casually leaning with one arm against the doorframe, as your focus shifts to the bulging biceps barely hidden underneath the fabric of his sweater.
"Hey." You lift your chin slightly and raise both of your eyebrows. His jacket makes you feel so comfortable, tough even. Running a hand through your hair, you strike a little pose, holding on to the jacket, when you catch him biting his lower lip.
"Well, aren't you a sight?" Charles remarks, his eyes lingering on the way the jacket clings to you.
You can't resist a mischievous smile, wearing that jacket like a trophy. "Thanks, babé." You tilt your head teasingly, enjoying how much his gaze devours all of you.
Charles licks his lips as his eyes linger on your chest, and subconsciously, he places a hand at his pecs and strokes himself before letting it run down his entire chest.
"That looks better on you than it does on me." He teased his voice, carrying a mischievous tone.
You feel a flush of warmth as his admiration becomes palpable. He closes the distance, his fingers tracing the edge of the jacket, and the touch a gentle caress.
"You really make it look so much better than I ever could." He admits that his voice low and appreciative.
The tension rises between the two of you as he moves even closer. The faint scent of his cologne grows stronger once he leans in to you, his soft lips barely brushing over your cheeks before he lets out a deep breath.
"Fuck. You're so hot." Charles' hands wander down to your waist, securely holding you in place. A spark of electricity rushes through your veins as you open your mouth, letting out a breathless sigh.
"Charles." You mouth, placing a hand at his firm chest, tracing the tangible outlines of his pecs through his tight clothes.
He breathes down your neck, surely holding back a low moan himself. "Y/N." Charles whispers, and you lean your head back in response.
"How about a trade?" You propose, gently stroking his chest. His muscles are tensing slightly, getting harder by the second.
He slowly separates himself, just enough for you to still feel his warmth against your cheek. "What do you have in mind?" Charles chuckles under his breath, both of his hands still at your waist, stroking you with his thumbs.
You lean in, steadying yourself against his frame with both of your hands. "A kiss for your favorite jacket?" Teasingly, you meet his burning gaze.
At the sound of your words, a mischievous smirk forms in the corner of his lips."
Y/N." He frowns. "I cannot decline that offer."
His eyes sparkle with a mixture of amusement and desire, and without hesitation, he closes the distance between you. The warmth of his lips meets yours in a sweet exchange, sealing the deal.
Once or twice, you kiss each other, embracing each other again and again. The tension engulfs both of you as you move even closer. His hands run along your waist, resting and caressing your butt, while yours run down his chest, feeling his toned body tense underneath his sweater.
But you won't stop there yet. In the heat of the moment, you cannot help but run a hand to his crotch, feeling his desire building up, forming a tangible bulge inside his pants.
He flinches once you touch and feel him, encouraging him to rock his hips against the palm of your hand.
"Mhmmm." Charles purrs right into your mouth as you close your eyes, fully embracing this moment.
"You like that, huh?" You tease once again and lean your head back, enjoying the smug grin spreading across his entire face. He narrows his eyes and lifts his chin as well, while you keep on teasing him with your fingers.
There is no need for more words. Both of you know that he's into that, enjoying you making the first move. Charles just shakes his head in amusement, a bright smile on his lips.
"You're one to talk." He says it with a playful tone.
Before you can react, however, he easily picks you up.
"Charles." You giggle, wrapping your legs around his waist.
Both of you giggle now as he carries you toward the bed. You hold on tight, hugging him with your arms and legs.
Gently, he puts you down on the soft mattress before he climbs on top of you, his body towering over yours.
"You're enjoying that, huh?" Charles smirks, his accent coming through a little.
Your eyes wander to his necklace, now hanging in the air just inches above your chest. The two of you are breathing quickly, barely able to catch your breath.
Nodding, you embrace him once he bends down, kissing you again and again while grinding his hips against your thighs.
Your whole body tingles in excitement, but you tilt your head to breathe deeply.
"Fuck. Charles." You let out a low groan when he starts placing kisses all over your neck.
Then, however, he stops.
"I need to go now." Charles places a hand at your neck, tracing your jawline with his fingers, before caressing your cheeks lovingly.
"I know." You lean into his soft touch, feeling his cold rings on your skin.
He helps you off the bed, reaching for your hand.
Lovingly, Charles starts to undress you, one arm at a time, you let go of his leather jacket. You enjoy feeling his hands run all over your upper body. Naturally, he uses this to his advantage, touching you and your boobs gently as well.
Giggling, you turn around, and your eyes meet again. This time, it is more playful, yet you're longing for his gentle touch, his warm embrace, and his lips on yours. Your heart is still racing, and you know he is feeling the same. Charles keeps on touching himself, stroking his chest, his tummy, and his bulge multiple times.
With a grin, he slips into the jacket that had just adorned me moments before. The material molds to his frame, accentuating his broad shoulders and making him look effortlessly good. You watch with a mix of curiosity and delight as he adjusts the collar, clearly enjoying the familiar comfort.
Charles then turns to you, a playful glint in his eyes. "How do I look?" He asks, striking the same pose as in the photoshoot.
Of course, he knows how well he looks. His strong yet slim frame looks so good as he strokes his chest through the fabric of his jacket. All of his clothes flatter him perfectly, but his pants are now unable to hide his desire.
A chuckle escapes you. "Surprisingly good, considering it's my turn to admire now." You reply, appreciating the sight of him wearing the jacket with a newfound allure.
He walks toward you, a swagger in his step, and wraps his arms around you, the jacket providing another layer of warmth. The scent lingers in your nose, making you lick your lips once.
"Maybe you should borrow it more often." He suggests, his lips curving into a charming smile.
You kiss him softly before he pulls away once more, walking over to the mirror, admiring his own reflection.
He runs a hand through his groomed beard, seemingly enjoying himself. When you catch him touching himself, his bulge firmly.
"We should finish that later." You raise your eyebrows again.
Curiously, he turns around, one hand still on his length and the other stroking his own chest.
"Oh, that sounds so good." His accent is still present as his rough voice fills the air all around you.
A soft smile plays on your lips as you take in the way he carries himself, the jacket adding a touch of rugged charm to his appearance. The dim light in the room cast a subtle glow on his features, emphasizing the allure of the moment.
Lost in admiration, you meet his eyes and whisper, "You look incredible in that jacket," letting the unspoken tension linger in the air.
The exchange of glances speaks volumes—a silent acknowledgement of the attraction that went beyond the fabric of the jacket, creating a connection that feels both intimate and exhilarating.
Charles closes the distance again, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you into a kiss followed by a warm, tight hug.
As he prepares to leave for the night, the air between you holds a subtle tension—a mix of longing and anticipation. He adjusts the jacket one last time, a confident smile on his lips.
You stand there, watching him with a longing gaze, wishing he would just stay now so you could extend this moment of intimacy.
Your eyes meet, and in that moment of lingering intensity, words seem unnecessary. The exchanged glances convey a myriad of emotions—affection, desire, and a touch of playfulness.
"I love you." Charles says softly, kissing you again.
"I love you too." You trace his jawline with two fingers, enjoying how his stubble tickles your skin. "Enjoy yourself, will you?" Patting his chest gently, you paint a coy smile on his lips.
With one last longing look, he leaves for the night.
#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc fanfic#Charles leclerc smut#charles leclerc one shot#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 imagine#formula 1 x you#Charles leclerc x y/n#charles leclerc fanfiction
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'kiss me forever till my lips part together, hold me so close till you devour my sweater, touch me so softly and caress me so gentle, love city baby, let me be your adventure' and Ace possibly? Prefer smut. but sfw is fine, too!
aww i love him sm, i'm so glad you asked for this combo!! i had a great time writing this, ace is just so cute and i picture him as kinda obsessed w/ u here but its all out of adoration. hope you enjoy! also two fluffy bedroom fics in one day? please forgive ya girl loves a trope!
ace x gn!reader (!)
c/w: smut, morning sex, loving sex, piv, spooning, creampie, flufffff, ace loves you sm.
“Hold up, firefly,” a raspy, tired voice murmurs out before a, rather warm, grip tightens around your forearm, foiling your attempt at retreat. You’re not upset that he caught you, though you huff in faux annoyance regardless just to tease him. “Who said you could get outta bed yet?”
“Ace, I’m hungry!” you whine, shrugging your shoulders and tilting your head around toward him with big, pleading eyes, your expression crossing into a frown when you see that his eyes aren’t even open as he’s talking to you.
Your attempt at charm fails anyway when you’re pulled back into his chest, one arm lazily draping over your side. “That’s too bad, sweetheart. I’m still tired,” Ace yawns, leaning his head forward and nuzzling his face into your hair like a kitten. “Besides, nothin’ to do today anyway. Jus’ stay with me for a little while.”
You curl in close at his side, letting your head rest on his bicep and resting your hands on along his torso, letting the heat of his body warm your skin. His eyes are still closed, but there’s a sweet little sleepy half-smile drawn across his lips that you can’t resist.
“Ace?”
He hums in reply, the arm on your waist trailing up your back as he traces circles into your bare flesh. Ace’s touch is so gentle, even if a little slow and sluggish in his motions. You feel his palm flat against you, his fingertips slightly heated on your tummy in just the way he knows you like. It’s a soothing embrace, and you find yourself exhaling in delightful bliss.
And how easy it is for you to lull back into his welcoming arms, to feel your eyes grow heavy and your breathing still as the rise and fall of his chest lures you into a sweet respite.
–
You're stirred awake by something wet treading up your neck. It takes a moment for you to comprehend just what's happening, but soon enough you're conscious enough to realize that not only have you rolled over, but Ace's lips are seemingly attached to your neck.
It tickles, and you can't help but to giggle softly. “Aceee!” you coo sweetly, fingers entwining with the ones tight around your waist. Ace replies with a low chuckle, slurping open-mouthed sucks to your flesh and grinding his pelvis into you, his hard cock pressing into the curve of your ass.
You lean into him, rolling your hips backwards and along his length. The gesture earns you a quiet groan close enough to your ear that it makes you shiver in excitement.
“G'mornin’,” Ace murmurs, the hand at your waist inching up slowly towards your chest. “Y’know, I think you taste even better this early.”
“You’re so needy,” your playful tone doesn’t go unnoticed by the pirate, and you squeal gingerly when your teasing is returned with a squeeze to your nipple.
“Only ‘cause you’re so pretty,” he muses, his tongue tracing the shell of your ear, a delicious and oh-so-inviting taunt that’s low in your ear and sets your veins ablaze with want. Ace’s cock twitches against you, and the tension rises to a boiling point when you arch your back in return. “Shit, babe, can we-?” He huffs into your ear, breathing in the scent of your skin as the roll of his hips quickening in pace in tandem with his breath.
“Yeah,” you mewl, rolling your hips and parting your legs enough for him to position himself with ease. “Yeah, I want you, Ace. Please.”
The sound of his name sounds so fucking good when it falls from your lips, the way your tired voice mixes with your desire for him, each breathy whine or sigh that you make for him - its nearly enough to make him cum then and there.
Ace aligns himself to you with one hand, the other still holding you tightly against him, and sinks into you. The finality of his cock stretching you inch by inch at long last makes you squirm, a relieved moan befalling you as you’re filled, the tip pressing delectably onto that spongy spot within you.
“You feel so good, firefly,” Ace whines into your neck, content to enjoy how you feel around him for a moment. It’s a warm feeling, something more than just wanton lust. Something bigger and better and more powerful makes this moment feel even better to him. “Fuck~ I love ya so much.”
Overwhelmed with emotion, you respond with a gentle turn of your head to capture his lips in a passionate, amorous kiss that makes Ace groan into your throat. He slowly slides himself within you, a gentle pace for a gentle moment. A hand finds purchase at your hip, that same warmth still hot on his palm and making you arch into him.
Your tongues dance sinfully together and Ace finds it easy to lose himself in you once again. His rhythm quickens, the sound of his thighs meeting yours now very clearly audible in your ears. Your cries of elation ring within his ears like a call to song, the heat radiating from his fingertips heating at your hip, white-hot sparks fly through his body, and it’s all too good, too perfect.
With a cry of your name does he finish within you, rutting his hips wildly and painting your walls white with release. Ragged, breathless whines of intoxicated ecstasy tumble into your neck while he rides out his high, hissing sharply in delirium each time your inner walls tighten around him.
Ace holds you close, still sheathed inside of you as the moment dies away. His arms reach around your middle, hands tracing mindless patterns on your chest. You almost think that he’s fallen asleep again, though as you try to ease yourself off of him, the grip around you constricts, keeping you in place.
“Not so fast, bedhead,” he buzzes into you, rubbing his face into your newly messy hair with a grin. “Who says we’re done?”
#one piece x reader#one piece x y/n#portgas d ace x reader#portgas ace smut#portgas ace x reader#ace x reader#ace x y/n#god i hope he was in character :(
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CNC!Joel x chubby!fem reader? I'd be so happy 🥲
Hello! I'm not currently doing requests for reader body types / appearance, but I hope this works for what you're looking for. master list
Joel Miller CNC (consensual noncon)
Joel x Fem!reader, NSFW 18+ CNC PIV (pre-established consent prior to story), dub-con, unsafe, post-outbreak
You never know when he's going to tenderly make love to you, brutally ravage you, or somewhere in between. You can’t get enough of him regardless, and Joel knows it. When he gets home, you’re sitting on a stool, simmering some broth over the wood stove to go with the jerky tonight. “Hey handsome,” you say without turning away from the wood stove. He doesn’t respond, just takes off his jacket. When you look up at him, he has that dark look in his eyes.
His boots thud as he walks toward you, rolling up his sleeves. The veins on his hands and arms are swollen and he wears even more of a scowl than usual. It must have been a bad day. You swallow and stand up. He looks you up and down and takes a deep breath as you wait, heart racing, fidgeting with a button on your shirt. Then, he walks right into you, and you almost trip on the stool. He pushes you up against the living room wall. His hand wraps around your jaw, and he kisses you forcefully, his tongue invading your mouth while his other hand plunges into your pants.
He grunts in approval when he feels how moist you are, then he takes his fingers from your cunt and puts them in your mouth and you suck while he pins you to the wall with his arousal throbbing into you. He swells harder as you suck his fingers, then he rips your shirt open, sending buttons flying, but you’re used to sewing them back on.
He yanks down your bra and his face dives between your breasts. He uses his big, rough hands to feed himself your tits, devouring them with open-mouth kisses. He grinds his arousal into you, humming "Mmm" into your breasts, with his eyes closed and a pained look on his face.
Then his thick arms wrap around you. It almost feels like an embrace until his strong biceps wrangle you onto the floor. You’re face up on top of an old, thin rug. You say, “The bed would be more-” as you begin to sit up, but he forces you back down on the rug.
He tears your pants and underwear off, then holds you down with one hand on your hip, making it clear you’re not to move. He pulls his pants and boxers down to mid thigh. The sight of his thick, hard cock never fails to send a pang of need right through you, especially with his masculine hand wrapped around it while he readies himself. He forces your legs apart, then aligns himself and plunges all the way into you, no time to adjust. You groan at his girth. He backs out all but the tip then rams into you again. Your eyes prickle, overwhelmed by his length, and your vision gets cloudy as you try to focus on the bounce of his salt and pepper hair.
Meanwhile, he focuses on the bounce of your tits each time he buries himself deep inside you. He leans over you, his denim buttons pressing into your flesh, his dark eyes sending a chill down your spine. Then, he bites and sucks your neck as he pounds you with his cock and his beard scratches your jaw. Soon you feel yourself closing in on your climax.
He fucks you unforgivingly, a primal grunt with each powerful thrust, his pace increasing. The vein in his neck bulges. He growls your name into your neck and it sends you over the edge. You clench around him and moan. You try to kiss him and he won’t let you. He pounds you through your orgasm, then pulls out. He pumps himself twice then his hot creamy seed spills onto your stomach.
His chest rises and falls as he catches his breath. He taps your thigh affectionately and lets you sit up. Then he kisses you tenderly, cupping your cheek in his hand.
-
all joel: @ethanhoewke @silkiers @eiviea
#joel miller x reader#joel miller fic#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller x you#joel miller smut#pedro pascal fic#pedro pascal#toxicanonymity ☠️
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drunken dance (ais)
ais x reader(f) (mature)
alternate universe / dancer!mc / assassin au
originally posted on ao3
masterlist
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His gaze soon returned to the prima, inspecting her with fresh eyes.
She was panting slightly, her face turned upward as her arms slowly dropped to her sides. Gold magic continued to exude from them, the fine mist now cloying and viscous, drooling from her veins like honey.
The prima then glanced up, searching for a moment before finding him in the crowd. She held his gaze for a moment, a flicker of something sharp awakening in those pretty eyes.
Ais tilted his head back, his mouth curling.
Interesting.
_________________________________________
The Red Banquet ebbed and flowed around you in a roiling, scarlet ocean of silk and sound.
You watched over the early embers of the party as Eridia’s elite mingled, sparkling jewelry swinging as they danced, laughed, sneered, and drank themselves to oblivion. Soon the ceremonial dance would begin, and you would be called to the stage - for now you hid in the shadows and explored the palatial inner sanctum of the temple.
“The night’s still young, yet some are already getting sloppy.”
You glanced over your shoulder as Mhin approached, slinking through the shadows of the wall until they had reached your side.
They were already dressed for the dance, in the ensemble that the troupe leader had painstakingly chosen for the occasion: the silk top hooked around their neck in a glittering chain of pearls, descending in a shimmering garnet swath to a matching band across the hem wrapped above their waist, the tiny beads bouncing against bare, pale skin. Two gossamer shawls hung from their arms, cinched at the shoulder, a golden cuff around the bicep, then once more at the wrist. Trousers of the same fabric billowed down their legs to golden anklets that sparkled and chimed with tiny bells.
Mhin moved silent as a ghost despite the jewelry dappled across their frame. A veil of silk hung across his nose and mouth, masking his expression.
“The more, the better,” you said. Drunk people were easier to manipulate.
They braced themselves on the banister, lilac eyes trailing over the crowd. “I always knew their kind never gave a fuck about the common folk, but this is… beyond even my imagination.” Their eyes narrowed on the massive fountains of white wine, tables full of enough fine food to feed ten times the guests present. “Throwing a party, wasting so much money and food, while hordes of Soulless terrorize the villages. Disgusting.”
You crossed your arms and leaned your hip against the pillar. “We’ll have to remember to circle back round to the kitchens after…” you trailed off, sharing a look. “With Leander’s help, we can haul back some of the food for the kids.”
Though the mask hid their expression, you could tell exactly how Mhin felt at the idea of eating the noble’s leftovers - in a word, homicidal - but the thought of Fenrir, Silvia, and the other troupe children stalled that infamously sharp tongue.
“They would certainly appreciate it more than this lot,” Mhin scoffed. “I doubt a single one of these prissy noblewomen will eat much, even as their pig partners gorge themselves.”
Hoping to lighten the mood, you nudged them with your foot and smiled when they met your gaze. “Silvia would be beside herself at that mountain of fruit.”
The corners of their eyes crinkled as a reluctant smile likely formed beneath the veil. “Huxtly would stick his whole head in the chocolate fountain. Make himself sick, probably.”
“Fenrir could eat a whole one of those pheasants by himself.”
“If he could snag one before Yulia devoured them all.”
Grinning, you pushed off from the pillar and leaned on the banister next to them, your shoulders bumping. For a moment, you both enjoyed the idea, the banquet and all its glamor falling away amidst this pocket of peace. Your heart lurched wistfully in your chest.
“Soon.” At their sideways glance, you continued in a hushed tone, “Soon we’ll be able to give them that. To see the look on their faces, when they have so much food they can’t possibly eat it all.”
Mhin stared for a long moment, before they sighed. “Don’t get ahead of yourself. One wrong move, and our heads will stand on pikes outside the temple gates.”
You frowned. “We’ve swam through far more dangerous waters than this,” you said with a nod toward the party.
“Don’t be flippant. Monsters roam these halls, the likes of which we’ve never seen.” Their hand reached out and grabbed your wrist, their words a fervent whisper. “Don’t trust anyone. Never let your guard down.
You huffed and stood up, tugging your wrist back. “This isn’t my first performance, Mhin. Don’t you trust me to handle this?”
“You, I trust. Them… him ….” They shot a seering glare at the stage. An empty throne sat in prime of place, a behemoth crafted from snow white, glittering Abaranth silver. A priceless treasure, bought with the brutal culling of the Abaranth people. Mhin’s people. “Never.”
Seething hate burned in their eyes - an enmity born of extraordinary suffering and loss. They had never spoken in detail about the massacre of his village, but you had noticed the remnants of that pain all the time: in the way he gripped his dagger in his sleep, the way he flinched at a campfire that flamed too high, the viciously protective way he guarded you and the troupe members, especially the children.
You looked over the party again.
These people had rejoiced. They had clothed themselves in jewelry hewn from that purest silver and danced on the mountains of corpses they had wrought to attain it. Thousands killed to slake that insatiable lust.
All of it made possible by the god of this temple.
The Vessel of the Seaspring and his army of Soulless.
“I’ll be careful,” you reassure them softly, your gaze on that empty throne. Determination to see this through burned white hot in your chest. You would succeed. And with this victory, the futures of so many would be saved.
Spurred by that thought, you glanced at the entrance of the hall and immediately caught the eye of a man lingering in the doorway, his arms folded over his thick chest. Leander’s mouth lifted into a smile, his chin jerking toward the interior.
“Looks like it’s time to get dressed,” you murmured before rising and heading toward the staircase. After a moment, you felt the shift in air as Mhin caught up and walked at your side, their arm brushing against yours.
_____________________________________
Ais hated shit like this.
When he reluctantly strode out of the shrine gate and took his place on the thick cushions of the throne, the crowd of nobles cheered and toasted their glasses, spilling wine onto the floor. They didn’t seem bothered at all by his lack of response, too caught up in the drunken revelry to care if he watched them all with utmost apathy.
With a pointed look at his man by the door, Ais enacted his plan to hurry along the events of the night and return to his rooms to laze about in solitude. Well, mostly solitude - he’d probably invite Princess to join him, maybe one of the dancers if they excited him.
Much as he’d like to, Ais couldn’t abstain from the entire banquet altogether - Ocudeus demanded his due from the horde of bloodthirsty humans - but he could decide how long and when. He figured, if he came for the dancing and ceremonial offerings, he’d at least be somewhat entertained and fed well.
Then, he could leave and sink into oblivion once more.
Chin propped on his palm, one leg thrown over the arm rest of the throne, Ais sat through two performances. The first was an instrumental ensemble with a variety of horns he’d never seen before. The second had dancers, but the kind that put on a theatrical performance, with exaggerated drama and a scene where one person was tragically killed by another.
The crowd dabbed the corners of their eyes.
Ais yawned.
He’s contemplating the swirling red wine in his goblet, contemplating leaving early regardless of Ocudeus’ wrath, when the third performance swept into the room.
Near drowsing, he watched the dancers glide into position in the center of the room, draped in fluttering red robes and glittering pearls. A cluster of musicians set up close to the stage, their instruments polished and primed. He paused as a familiar face appeared just behind the musicians: short dark hair, emerald eye, a winsome smile on his handsome face. Leander.
Ais tilted his head, curiosity peaked. The mage rarely made an appearance in the palace of the Seaspring - before Ocudeus had swarmed his influence over the kingdom, Ais had been a frequent visitor at Leander’s pub. They used to be something close to friends.
Leander’s attention was riveted to the center of the hall. Ais followed his gaze.
The dancers had formed two rings around the stage, fixed in place with their arms out and curled artfully around them like the blooming petals of a flower. They waited, eyes bright and smiles hidden beneath silk veils, for the music to begin.
At the center of the formation was a single dancer - the prima.
Even at a distance, she shone brighter than the rest.
In addition to her ceremonial garb, she was draped in an additional robe, this one as delicate and transparent as sea foam and embroidered with the tiniest glittering gems that caught the light like a river of stars. Her long hair was swept high on her head and fixed with a crown: its frame comprised of curling, golden tendrils, cresting in the center around a massive garnet, each tentacle fixed with dangling pearls that danced with every turn of her head. The tail of her hair flowed to the small of her back, a long silky length that curled like rolling waves and gleamed under the torchlight around the hall. Her hands were the color of summer storms, in which rivers of gold branched across the dark sky.
A feast for the eyes.
Ais rose from his slouch and leaned forward on the throne.
At some unspoken signal, the musicians began to play. An eerie, seductive melody began to fill the room, a string instrument singing through the sharp beats of a drum. The dancers began to turn in place, slow and winding, before curling toward the center and rolling together, their robes forming the waves of a shore.
They twirled and writhed to the music, twining around each other, the two rings weaving together, separating, leaping around the floor as one. At their center the prima rose and fell with them, her lithe form undulating, each stroke of her arms through the air prompting an ensuing wave amongst the other dancers, as though she were the moon commanding the tides.
The lethargic tempo gradually grew more passionate and alive. He’s reminded of the insidious curl of clouds that grew in strength and torrent, until a hurricane descended from the heavens - only this particular tempest, wrapped in red silk and gold, burned like an inferno.
The prima leapt recklessly through the ranks of the other dancers, the glitter of her crown and robes parting the sea of fire like a lightning strike. At one point she danced to the front of the stage, as close to the throne as she could, and her gaze caught his over her veil.
Bright, burning eyes encircled by thick lashes and red paint. Pearls had been fixed in clusters around her temples, then scattered around her taut stomach and back, gleaming against her skin. This close, he could watch the undulation of muscle and sinew in each curl of her body, each movement graceful, effortless, as smooth as the silk clinging to her frame.
She spun back to the center of the formation as the music rose to a crescendo, her dancers all around twisting in a frenzy, and then lifted her arms. Every dancer but the prima paused, then fell to the ground like dolls whose strings had been cut.
The hair at the nape of his neck stood on end.
The gold veins across her hands and forearms suddenly flared. An aura enveloped them, golden mist issuing from her skin, and then a single ball of light formed between her palms.
Ais sat up as the ancient magic welled from within the dancer’s body.
He tensed, claws gripping the armrests, as her hands molded the sphere of magic, radiating light like a miniature star, before twisting sharply.
It burst across the air like a firework. Sparkling comets of magic flew through the air, delighting the crowd into shrieks and screams of delight. He flicked a finger as one shot toward him, redirecting it with ease, and watched as it merrily spun in the air before crashing into a statue and dissipating in a last, popping spark.
Ais eased back onto the throne, surveying the crowd. The magic hadn’t harmed any of the humans, from what he could tell. They continued to clamor rapturously, some even chasing after the last few rays of magic and grasping with their hands to try and catch it.
His gaze soon returned to the prima, inspecting her with fresh eyes.
She was panting slightly, her face turned upward as her arms slowly dropped to her sides. Gold magic continued to exude from them, the fine mist now cloying and viscous, drooling from her veins like honey.
Ancient magic presented amongst beings - humans and monsters alike - rarely but on the chance that it occurred, it did so in unique ways. He’d never seen magic quite like this, in all his centuries of existence.
The prima then glanced up, searching for a moment before finding him in the crowd. She held his gaze for a moment, a flicker of something sharp awakening in those pretty eyes.
Ais tilted his head back, his mouth curling.
Interesting.
_________________________________________________
When the servant had arrived at the guest quarters of the troupe with a summoning from the Vessel, he was met with little surprise or fanfare.
Mhin had answered the door and, after a moment, nodded tersely. “She needs time to prepare. Wait out here.”
“The Vessel will not be kept wait - “ the servant tried to stop them, only to jump back as Mhin slammed the door in his face.
Grimfaced, Mhin joined you in your corner of the dressing room. Fischa was dabbing the sweat from your body with a couple cotton pads, taking special care to refresh the makeup around your face and apply fresh glue to any pearls that slipped on your skin. “It worked.”
“Oh!” The other dancer gasped, her cheeks flushing, before she lunged for the box full of perfumes and essential oils. “How long does she have? Oh, but it’d be best if you could bathe - you can’t service the Vessel with a sweaty body. A wardrobe change, at the very least?”
A nerve in Mhin’s clenched jaw jumped, but they said nothing as Fischa was soon joined by the other dancers, who dithered around you and argued how best to prepare you for a night with the temple god.
After much debate, they bullied you into changing into a fresh ceremonial outfit - still vibrant red and accentuated by pearls and garnets, but clean, dry, and embroidered with gold sparrows and delicate blossoms.
“Just a dab of this, and you’ll be ready to go!” Fischa beamed, her fingers dipping into a lotion compact. She rubbed circles into the crook of her neck and wrists, the scent of honey and clover brushing against your senses.
You wondered whether they would be as excited preparing you for a night with the Vessel, if they knew what you intended to do with it. Still, you would never return their kindness with anything less than gratitude.
“Thank you, sisters,” you murmured, clasping her hands and offering a slightly wan smile.
“You know, I can’t remember whether we’ve had a talk about… intimate relations,” Rukia chimed in, wrapping an arm through your elbow. “Have you been with a partner before?”
“Yes,” you said immediately, shutting down that frightening prospect before the other dancer got any further. “I’m aware.”
A series of knocks banged impatiently on the door to the quarters.
Fischa shared a look with Rukia when something seemed to occur to her. She hurried to a small dresser and dug around inside before returning with a small compact. She handed it to you with slightly pink cheeks. “Take this. Surely the Vessel won’t be… too passionate, but just in case.”
Confused, you opened the lid. A clear, viscous salve sat inside. You stared at it for a moment before her words sunk in.
Your cheeks burned.
Clearing your throat, you screwed the lid back on with clumsy fingers and tucked the compact in your pocket. “Thanks, Fishca,” you said, avoiding everyone’s gaze and turning toward the door.
Mhin grabbed your arm and pulled you to a stop just before the door. In their hand was a thin, ornate dagger, the blade purest white.
You tucked it within the folds of your pants, strapped to your hip with a leather belt. The drape of your robes should hide the slight bulge - it might cause a bit of trouble unsheathing the dagger, but you’d make it work.
Mhin leaned close and murmured in your ear. “Don’t hesitate. If anything seems off, do whatever you have to to get the fuck out of there.”
You nodded.
“I’ll be nearby.” Their hand brushed across the bracelet at your wrist. It was enchanted with a spell that, when activated with magic, would signal the matching one on Mhin’s wrist to vibrate.
“If you need me.”
You nodded again, this time grabbing their hand and squeezing for a moment, before lifting your chin and striding toward the door.
The harried servant, clearly both irritated and panicked to have been kept waiting, hustled you through the palace at fast as he could.
Despite having an excellent sense of direction, you soon found yourself struggling to remember the turns you’d taken, as each hall looked identical with its blood red walls and black marble floors, when the servant guided you around one last corner that opened up to a larger room with a vaulted ceiling.
You paused on the threshold, sucking in a gasp.
Amongst the luxurious velvet walls, the towering, worn mahogany doors set at the top of an equally ancient set of stairs looked unnatural. Around the circular room, grotesque statues lined the walls - no, not just statues.
Soulless.
Your stomach lurched.
“Come, this way,” the servant ushered, hovering and gesturing insistently but apparently unwilling to touch you. “Please. He’s been waiting for so long now.”
You swallowed around a dry throat and followed on slightly shaking legs, your eyes darting around the room, trying to keep as many of the monsters in sight as possible. Still, even as you reached the bottom of the stairs, not a single Soulless had so much as twitched in your direction.
Hell of an entrance. Literally.
“Up the stairs, through the doors. Go, go.”
You’d ascended halfway when you realized the servant hadn’t accompanied you. You looked over your shoulder.
The servant was gone.
Only the Soulless remained in the room. Where before they had remained as still and lifeless as statutes, now every red eye in the room opened and fixed upon you.
Terror shot like fire through your body.
Sprinting up the steps, you burst through the old doors and slammed them shut behind you, your heart pounding in your head, your chest.
Fighting to calm down, you forced your breath to slow and let your hands fall from their panicked barricade on the door. You sighed as your body cooled, a drop of sweat racing down your spine. Fischa’s anxious attempts to blot your sweat were all for nothing.
Once your heart had stopped racing, other sounds began to filter into your senses. The soft whistle of a breeze through a cavern. Gentle, bubbling movement of still water. Groaning wood beneath your feet, the faint creaking of hanging metal.
Steeling yourself, you turned around and faced the inner sanctum of the Seaspring palace.
__________________________________________________
She was a cautious thing, for sure.
From atop the rafters, Ais watched as the dancer took short, quiet steps further into the sanctum.
She drew her robes closer, the chill of the room drawing goosebumps across the bare skin of her stomach and arms. She stopped at the edge of the water, taking in the vast temple encircled by the aging pier, the torii gate that towered above, the lanterns and talismans swinging idly amongst the mahogany pillars. Sweat cooled on her brow, her eyes bright and calculating.
“Hello? Venerable One?” she called out into the room, her voice echoing to the depths of the cavern.
He rolled his eyes at the title. The humans found something new to call him every decade or so, each more foolish than the last.
She waited but, upon receiving no response, began exploring the left side of the pier. When she reached the tea pot and cushions, she hesitated before lifting the lid and peering inside. Searching for poison? Or just curious what the Vessel drinks?
Ais smirked as her nose crinkled.
She stood up again and looked around. Her curiosity led her to the closest pillar, covered in white paper talismans. For several minutes, she read their contents, a furrow in her brow.
“What would you wish for?” he asked.
The dancer jumped, her hand reaching instinctively to her hip as she searched for the voice. Soon, she looked upward, finding him amongst the rafters. Her eyes narrowed above the veil.
“Your Excellency,” she demurred with a bow, even as her sharp eyes held fast on his form.
He tilted his chin, resisting the urge to smile. “Answer.”
She considered him, that quick mind working behind those bright eyes, before she replied, “I would never dare to wish for anything, without a full understanding of the terms.”
Now, he smirked. “Smart.”
He could tell from the spark in her gaze that she held a sharp reply on the tip of her tongue but kept silent. “Speak freely,” he said, bracing his arm on his bent knee, a pipe hanging from his fingers. “I prefer honesty to pointless pleasantries.”
The dancer bowed her head in acknowledgement. “As Your Excellency wishes.” After a moment of silence, she asked, “For what reason has Your Excellency called for me?”
“Good question. Not sure yet.”
Her brow furrowed again. Her hands twisted in the silk, the many folds of her robes flowing over her arms. During the performance, the other dancers had reminded him of flowers, but she was too animated to remind him of such a staid thing. No, more than a flower, her movements - the way she dove and soared, leaped and tumbled through the air, reminded him of a sparrow flitting through the many bows and trees of a forest, carrying the light of the sun on her wings.
She looked around the room for a moment before turning back to the tea pot. “Shall I prepare a fresh pot then?”
“No need.”
He watched as she moved to the tea pot and prepared to remove the leftover grinds, then hesitated. Where moments before the pot had stood cold and empty, a full, steaming pot of tea awaited her. Her gaze darted toward him in question.
Ais pulled from his pipe and said nothing, curious what she’d do.
After a moment’s deliberation, she lifted the handle and poured two servings into the nearby cups, her brow furrowing at the deep red color of the tea.
A short laugh escaped him.
Affecting an air both graceful and ever so slightly annoyed, she settled on a cushion and held her cup in hand, her nose poised over the steam as she tried to subtly smell the batch.
“Is this wine?” she finally asked, after failing to place the flavor.
“Something like that.”
He blew out two long furls of smoke from his nostrils before rising from the rafter and dropping down onto the pier beside her. She stiffened briefly but recovered well, her head dipping in a chime of clinking pearls and gold, as he approached and took the cushion opposite her.
Ais leaned back on the pillar and whistled.
Soon enough, the scratching of claws across the ancient wood grew closer until Princess turned the corner of the temple gate, her many tails wagging behind her, the handful of wet, amber eyes around her head rolling as they surveyed the room, the dancer, and himself. She trotted toward him, her snout prodding into the side of his face, before curling up at his hip.
Ais dropped a hand on her back, his fingers brushing her fur.
The dancer had stiffened, her back ramrod straight, fear mixing in with the lovely scent of honey and spice around her. Bemusedly, he realized the addition didn’t put him off in the slightest.
After several moments, she relaxed again, hiding her eyes behind the thick rim of lashes. She lifted the cup to her mouth, took a delicate sip, and then set it back on the ground again. “How can I be of use to you, Your Excellency?”
“Use?” He took a long drink of his own cup and savored the burning down his throat. “What do you think?”
Ais watched the quicksilver calculation flash through her eyes. Then, her posture shifting, she seemed to settle into her determination.
Her robes loosened, the sumptuous weight falling down around her elbows, pooling around her hips. The smooth skin of her shoulders were bared, her head tipping forward to allow her long hair to spill over them in soft curls. Her eyes narrowed again, not in calculation, but in sleepy, languorous seduction.
Ais let his bent leg fall to the side, opening his lap.
She took the invitation without hesitation, all curves and silk as she crawled across the distance and settled on top of him. This close, he could sense the brimming magic swimming in her veins, the golden branches across her hands and arms shining with power.
Her hands smoothed across his chest, the tips of her fingers teasing beneath the folds of his clothes, before sliding around his shoulders and settling at the nape of his neck. She curled into him, those bright eyes inches from his own, the veil hanging between their mouths.
He could sense her breath on the air, could taste it across his tongue.
The smirk that spread across his face was an evil thing, even to his own mind, but still she did nothing as he tugged the edge of her veil from its fastenings and took her mouth.
______________________________________________
He kissed like a demon.
His tongue invaded in a hot rush of teeth and breath, his mouth working with a fervor at complete odds with his attitude thus far. You’re swept in the tide, hands seeking purchase on his thick shoulders as his hot tongue found yours, each brush of rough wet muscle a torrent on your senses as you struggled to keep your wits about you.
He tasted strangely spicy, the thick mulled wine from the teapot seeping across your palate. Each shallow swallow of the taste burned a line down your throat and settled in your stomach like whiskey.
Countless times, you’d lured targets just like this. Honeypot was something of a specialty, for all that you’d rarely engaged in true intimacy. You could separate the sensations from your head, your thoughts always focused on the mission, dissociating the physical from the mental. Missions just like this were a dime a dozen - entice, approach, distract, execute. Simple. Straightforward.
Nothing about this felt simple. Never before had the pleasure been this strong, this mind-numbingly good - never had it been this difficult to just think when a target laid hands on you.
Heat flooded your body, pooling in the pit of your stomach. When his hands braced your waist, scorching palms a brand on your skin, mischievous thumbs stroking along the dips and plateaus of your stomach, every nerve in your body seemed to perk up and come alive with tingling pleasure.
You broke the clasp of his mouth, panting as his tongue swept across your lip.
Red eyes bored into you, their weight intense and all-consuming. The Vessel pulled you against his chest, his hands guiding your hips down into the valley of his lap, and instinctively they began to grind against him, as though called to dance by a lewd melody you couldn’t hear.
A stifled moan rose in your throat as the hard jut of him notched against your sensitive mound and rose to meet you, rubbing deep and slow against your clit through the perilously thin fabric. God, he’s big. You felt yourself growing wet, your arousal dampening the silk further, heightening each brutal brush against your folds.
Sweet, heady fog began to slip into your head, teased and tormented on the precipice of that perfect, elicit friction.
The air between you felt cloying, humid and hot. You tossed your head back, fighting for breath and swallowing a moan as his eager mouth found your throat and proceeded to nip and suck.
The mission. Don’t forget what you’re here for - oh fuck, that’s good .
You struggled, searching your memories for the fuel to keep on trick. Mhin’s face, the glimpse of hollow grief on his face at the mention of his village. Fischa and Rukia. Huxtly, Fenrir, and Yulia, playing out in the fields around the tents, the breeze carrying their laughter.
Gritting your teeth, you dragged your hands from around his neck, down the firm planes of his chest and covered his where they sat on the curve of your waist and guided your hips in their lazy, exquisite dance against him.
You held his wrists and drew him upward, until his palms smoothed over the bottom of your rib cage, his fingers teasing along the hem of your top, pearls on thin gold chains slipping over his knuckles. He took the invitation eagerly, roaming beneath the silk until his hands cupped your breasts, thumbs circling your nipples, testing the firm points as those terrible red eyes watched your face, devoured your flushed cheeks and hazy eyes.
Your pleasure seemed to feed his and vice versa, a conduit forming as riotous heat and lust charged the air between you.
Your hands left him to his devices, namely torturing you with flicks and pinches and hot handfuls of skin, and then returned to your waist, gripping your own hip bones as though bearing down on the thick ridge of his cock. Your right hand slipped within your pants and found the handle of the dagger.
His tongue licked a hot swath up your neck, his mouth lingering by your ear, his breath puffing against your jaw. You turned and caught his mouth again, sucking his tongue inward, your head swimming even as you fought to think.
With a quick jerk, you pulled the dagger out of its sheath, cutting through the fabric of your pants, and lifted it into the air, poised above his neck. Your grip tightened, prepared to tilt and plunge the blade into his jugular, when -
Your body froze.
What - what’s happening . Every single nerve in your body continued to sing with pleasure, your mound aching like an open wound, your skin tingling with the heat radiating from his body and touch.
Your mouth gaped, paused in the middle of a deep kiss, as he sighed and leaned back, his gaze tracing the blush on your cheeks, the dawning horror in your eyes. His hand slipped out from your breast and cupped your jaw, his thumb brushing against your bottom lip and dipping inside to tease your still tongue.
“Should’ve known not to drink from my cup, sparrow,” the Vessel said, his red eyes narrowed in satisfaction, before inspecting the raised dagger with interest. “Looks sharp.”
Then he withdrew a couple inches, just enough to bring his face closer to the weapon. “Oh…?” He met your paralyzed gaze over the blade. “Abaranth steel?” He tilted his head thoughtfully before a smirk spread across bruised lips. “So it’s personal.”
You watched, terror quickly replacing the fading pleasure in your body, sucking the warmth from your veins until sweat lay cold and dry on your skin, your heart racing furiously.
The Vessel dragged his hand down your neck, across your shoulder and down your arm in a mocking caress, fingers cupping your elbow teasingly, before reaching the thick gold veins embedded in your skin. “Wanted a closer look at these, but… turns out there’s more to you than meets the eye.”
You fought against the unnatural paralysis with all your might, those same veins he traced with his thumb lighting up with stifled magic - but to no avail. His words bubbled to the surface of your panic. You glanced down at the mug you’d taken barely a sip of.
The wine?
The Vessel hummed low in his throat, his gaze pausing on your face, before a slow smirk spread across his mouth.
Checkmate, sparrow , he whispered, but not once had his lips moved to form the words.
Your heart pounded in your chest, panic building to a crescendo, your body vibrating as though struck by lightning. What is this? What did you do to me ? you thought feverishly. What did I drink ?
His scarlet eyes flared, their malevolent glow burning like banked embers in the gloom of the temple. Then, with a flick of his wrist, the tea pot’s lid spun off the frame and onto the ground nearby. He hooked his fingers over the rim and lifted the pot until the chamber was level with your eyes.
Thick, blood red water sloshed from within, dribbling down the side of the pot.
The same water that ebbed beneath the pier.
You stared, a scream echoing from the distance.
Now , he mused, his voice almost bored even as it invaded your mind, let’s see what secrets you’ve got tucked away in this head of yours.
_____________________________________
a/n: comments and likes are appreciated!
#ais reader fic#ais x reader#touchstarved fanfic#touchstarved reader fic#ais touchstarved#touchstarved#touchstarved imagines
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Insatiable.
-FUCK, FUCK, FUCK, FUCK! - My mind had only one goal: to fill Derek's tight and hairy ass with my cum with my new cock. Derek's moans silenced my pathetic original voice in my head begging me to stop, I didn't use to have homosexual thoughts in my head all the time, actually, I used to be Freed an obese nerd who loved anime and video games. a role like dungeons and dragons, the only sport I did was walking from my house to the bus room to go to class every day.
Still drilling his ass I looked at the clock on the wall that said 04:00 PM, It was too late he wouldn't make it to football practice I'm sure the coach won't be happy when he finds out his star quarterback skipped practice so he could fucking the only male member of the school's cheerleading team.
I had taken over Jackson's body last week I woke up in Jackson's room after he cast the body-swapping spell the Goth boy at school gave me after I promised him I'd suck his dick when I got hot and sexy Jackson, I felt amazing! Testing my thick legs in one jump I stood up, took off the shirt that hid my hairy abdomen, and started flexing my incredibly large arms, walked over to the mirror, and admired my massive biceps that were now the size of my new head.
As if it had a life of its own my cock rose painfully between my underpants, I wasted no time and took off my stinky and dirty underpants from the precum accumulated on the tip of my cock, I had never been so horny with my old and tiny cock before virgin, I placed my hard calloused hands on my cock and began to masturbate, My plan was simple to fill as many girls' vaginas as possible in the shortest amount of time and return to my body before Jackson made a mess of my body.
As I massaged my cock I tried to think of Stacy's huge firm breasts she had rejected and teased me over and over again. but in this body, I would surely have her on her knees by the end of the day, but those thoughts were inadvertently replaced by the hot cock that was now between my muscular legs, my gaze was focused on the mirror as I jerked off on each one of them. the veins that stand out from my powerful arms, my six-pack covered with a thin layer of hair that joined with the pubic hair that covered my thick cock.
I couldn't resist too much I was too horny and my balls were eager to release the hot cum I had been holding, The thick male moans intensified until I was finally able to dirty my own reflection in the mirror, my head was spinning and my mind I was blank as he released the last drops of cum that soiled my huge feet.
-Something... is not right- I looked at the thick and white semen that slowly went down the mirror and I could not control myself, I knelt in front of the mirror, and with my tongue, I began to devour the drops of semen from bottom to top, my cock even with some drops of semen on the point began to rise again with my uncontrollable desire to clean the mirror with my tongue while watching the reflection of Jackson's body humiliating himself like a bitch.
When I finished I went back to bed and lifted my damp armpits to air them out I was bathed in my own stinky sweat, and my cock was a little sore and tender, I took the iPhone that was on the table next to the bed where I had woken up and unlocked it with my face, there was not a single call from Jackson but there were a lot of messages from men begging for me to fuck them.
I found out a little late that Jackson was gay and a colossal nymphomaniac, I tried to lead Jackson's life normally and control my new body but it was no use, I couldn't control how hot I was, fuck I even massaged my dick in math class, my brain I was too dumb and horny to think of equations and I only lasted 1 day without having sex and on that day I had to masturbate like 10 times, I even had to masturbate in the bathroom at school while a couple of guys were peeing on the other side of the bath.
Jackson's athletic, nymphomaniac body tortured me day and night. my dick kept getting hard in the showers after football practice it felt like it had a life of its own and she knew she was surrounded by a bunch of sweaty muscled men with their hairy asses, luckily Jackson's iPhone was full with messages pleading for me, In a few days without realizing it, I was already acting like the arrogant idiot Jackson, my solo study times and watching anime was replaced by long worship sessions accompanied by a bunch of pathetic internet fagots who just They wanted to kiss, lick and fuck my muscles.
I planned to sleep with a bunch of girls in Jackson's body but I think I'll have to get used to my new life and my new insatiable cock.
Ver.esp: https://docs.google.com/document/d/1Ef4zWRwCqs42OB8GizT7hKGDkhzaHSyVKr2ohqRIN5E/edit?usp=sharing
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What's up guys! If you like my stories take a look at my patreon! I've written a lot of hot stories like this, also if you want to chat with me a bit you can join my discord server!
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🍵 Call me the tea anon.
I’ve never done something like this as I’m kinda new to Tumblr so sorry if this is a bother.
But can I have a strong tiger villain reader who kidnaps hawks. He would treat hawks like a pet or force him into being their submissive mate by putting a callor on him, scratching his arms or legs as a way of marking him, and biting his neck.
But when the reader gets in the mood they decide to force him to have sex with him against his will. The reader would cum in him many times for hours until he breaks.
I’m sorry if this is too graphic and too much and I hope you aren’t uncomfortable with this.
predators and prey - hawks x male reader
author’s note. my tip sticky. anyways i wanna breed keigo so bad, you just know this twink has the tightest ass LITERALLY he would take my cock in so good.
tw. DARK CONTENT, noncon, animal hybrids, kink, size difference, dacryphilia, spit, belly bulging, manhandling, no prep, forced sex and penetration
Tiger hybrids were such fascinating species indeed. Though they were much rarer and tons more intimidating than their feline counterpart, they certainly had their own intense and alluring charm. Others practically praised the ground you walked on— You were so exotic that people would instantly turn their heads to admire just how handsome and confident you looked, striding around the city with such a cool aura.
If tigers were considered to be at the top of the food chain, birds just like Keigo ranked somewhere at the bottom.
Although he was quite pretty with his golden eyes and high cheekbones— good looks outweighed in his strength making him weaker than most animal-human hybrids. He was nothing but a pretty bird with a pretty body. And other tiger hybrids would be stupid if they didn’t pounce on him, the moment he showed just the slightest bit of vulnerability.
You were never afraid to use your brazen strength to your advantage. It was part of your nature, being so aggressive and rough with everyone you interacted with. However, The sight of Keigo made the animalistic urge in your gut claw at you from the inside.
Especially now that he was underneath you, clawing at your bicep all while begging for you to let him go— The tears in those cute big eyes only ensured that you kept your grip on him nice and secure being extra careful so that he wouldn’t be able to escape. Not that he wouldn’t be able to with how weak he was compared to you.
“Stop struggling, You wouldn’t want me... harming those beautiful wings of yours would you?” You teased letting your fingernails scratch at the sensitive bone, a muffled sob only leaving Keigo’s lips in response.
The man could feel his heart racing every time he felt your sharp claws on his skin and your warm breath against his nape. It was obvious that you wanted to devour him— have him ruined by the time you were done having fun with his tiny body however as you hastily ripped each piece of his clothing off, the fear coursing through his veins made his cock twitch with masochistic anticipation.
Keigo was absolutely gorgeous— There was no doubt in that, if he wasn’t, you wouldn’t have chose him to be your mate but seeing him trembling beneath you, pale skin flushed pink and cock twitching pathetically against his stomach, you could feel your cock chubbing in arousal, a dark smirk worming it’s way slowly onto your lips.
“Now that’s a fucking sight...” You groaned breathlessly, taking his leaking cock in your hand before jerking him off at a steady pace, relishing in the way his body jerked upwards into your touch. Keigo could slowly feel his mind melting with the numbing pleasure that you were providing him; and the stimulation on his sensitive cock only made matters worse for him as he started craving for even more.
“Mmf—!” The blonde moaned girlishly, shutting his eyes as he felt himself shooting ropes of cum on his stomach, your calloused fingers now inching downwards from his cock to his ass. This was so fucking embarrassing! Keigo felt so filthy, and you loved every second of it— your eyes shining brightly in twisted fascination.
“Hm you seem loose enough, I’m feeling a bit impatient today..” You murmured, fisting your length before pressing the head against his tight hole, teasing the man by spitting on his face, a sick smile plastered on your face as you watched the fat gob roll down his eye and down to his cheek.
Wordlessly pushing your fat cock inside of him, Keigo let out an inhuman scream, the cloth in his mouth now deemed useless with how loud his voice was raised. Giving the smaller male an amused chuckle, you took your time in marveling at the way your cock would disappear inch after inch inside of his ass. And though Keigo was sobbing in pain, wings flapping uselessly behind his back, You only gave him a second to adjust to your size before fucking him nice and hard on your mattress.
Keigo was positive that he was going to break! You were so rough with him! Manhandling and fucking him as if he was a mere rag doll. Each and every deep thrust made his body jolt with pleasure, the air in his lungs getting knocked out of him every time you slammed into him balls deep without a single regard to his well being.
Keeping a tight grip on his waist, You let out a deep groan as you watched the man crumble beneath you. You were certain that he’d look even prettier passed out limp on your cock. “God— I can see my cock moving in your tummy. You’re so fucking tiny, so easy for me to destroy.” You laughed, pace unwavering as you snapped your hips vigorously against his— Your thrusts slowly turning sloppy as you felt your high approaching.
The blonde could vividly feel your cock rearranging his guts— he was going to become a mother! The thought of birthing your children only made his ass clench tighter around you, milking your cock of all it’s worth as you came deep inside of him, filling his womb with your hot cum.
Keigo looked pathetic now that he was leaking with your cum, however you were far from finished! And stuffing the pretty boy with more of your cum was the only thing that occupied your head. Giving the man’s cheek a firm slap, You smirked, “Don’t look so relieved yet, Keigo. We still have to fill that belly up with more cum.”
#sinfulcries works#top male reader#dark content#dark blog#x male reader#bnha smut#bnha x top male reader#dark bnha#bnha x male reader#bnha x reader#mha smut#dark mha#hawks x male reader#hawks x reader#tw noncon#hawks smut
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Worst Behavior - Chris Evans smut
The one where it was supposed to be a sex scene, but Chris fucked you for real - and he didn’t care that your boyfriend was watching
Warnings: infidelity (reader cheats on oc boyfriend with Chris), smut, exhibitionism, public sex, dirty talk, angst.
Word count: 1.7K
A/N: thank you to my ride or die, @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog for looking this over and giving me her thoughts about it. Writing is such a better process with you to scream about it!
Chris’ P.O.V.
I was seething when I burst through her trailer’s door, so out of my mind that the sight of her raising a hand over her heart, clearly startled, didn’t make me feel even remotely guilty.
“So this is it, huh? We’re gonna film this one last scene, and then you’ll be back by his side, like you and I were nothing, like I never even mean anything to you.” Somewhere inside my troubled mind, a tiny, still emotionally sober part of me saw her wiping a stray tear after it immediately fell from her eye, clearly not wanting to show this sign of weakness in front of me.
But again, I was too out of it to care. I wanted her to hurt, I wanted her to feel the pain that I was feeling, after all she put me through. How could she expect me to leave this set like I was the same man that met her? She had fundamentally changed me, by showing me how to love and be loved, how it was possible to find in a single person the answer to all of my needs and desires for my future.
I couldn’t just go on pretending I didn’t know what I knew now. But that’s what she intended to do. She wanted to leave and keep living in the pretense that nothing had changed, that she was still in love with the man waiting for her on set.
I knew for a fact that wasn’t the case. I knew it because there was no way my feelings were one-sided, no way everything we had gone through had only mattered that much to me. I knew her, probably better than I knew myself. And I knew this was all just fear and anxiety, clouding her mind and stopping her from going after what she truly wanted.
Unfortunately, the only way I could process these emotions at the moment was through anger.
“Is that how you see me?” Her sweet voice surprised me, I didn’t expect her to actually respond to my hurt-filled accusations. “Do you think I’m that cruel, that I would just be able to… to leave and forget you like this?”
I huffed, too inside my own mind to relent now. Yes, this is how I saw her, at least at that moment. She was the cause of my hurt, because she was the object of my desires.
“You’re doing this out of your own free will,” I reminded her. “Don’t try to pretend you’re just some innocent little victim in all of this. You have our fate in your hands, and you’re deciding to let it all go to waste.”
At the sight of tears rolling down her cheeks, my decision to leave was made even before she ordered me out of her trailer. I couldn’t stand to see her cry, couldn’t deal with the knowledge that I was the cause for it.
So, once again, I turned that distress into anger.
Y/N’s P.O.V.
The air was chilly on set, and the fact that I was practically naked under the robe didn’t help. Neither did the tension between Chris and I. I wanted to make things right, I wanted to reach over and run my hands over his shoulders, relax the muscles I’d come to know so well. But I couldn’t do that right now. Not with my boyfriend watching us.
So I resigned myself to fiddling with my fingers as we waited for the set to be ready. Since it was one of those artistic sex shots, it would be filmed from a distance and there wouldn’t be any lines or sounds that we had to make, just movements to simulate. Which meant that the few people that were allowed to stay on the set had to watch the whole thing unfold from afar, and we would be free to fake having sex while they filmed us.
I don’t think I realized this could very well be the last time I had Chris this close to me until I had his mouth on mine again. I could still feel the emotions from earlier that day right beneath the surface, boiling his blood as he buried his hand on my hair and devoured my lips like he’d done so many times before.
Good thing the scene called for desperation.
I kissed him back just as desperately, wanting to enjoy every second of this experience, even if it wasn’t exactly what I desired at that time. Chris always kissed me so well, guiding me to where he wanted, and in no time at all he had me sprawled on the bed, underneath his larger body. I couldn’t help but to moan lowly when his lips attached themselves to my jaw, and I felt his smirk against my skin.
I couldn’t blame him. The effect he had on me was incomparable. He had every right to be smug about the sounds he could pull from me, Lord knows I’d cried out his name enough times to permanently puncture my own ear drums.
And still, it didn’t seem like it would be enough. The more he touched me - even if it was under a blanket, for a scene - the clearer it became that it could never be enough. I still wanted him. I wanted him forever, in fact.
But just as the realization occurred to me, his thumb slipped over my covered clit, pressing on the little nub and making me jerk away in surprise. “Shhh…” He directed, making sure to cover my face with his bicep so the camera wouldn’t catch my shock. “Just relax so it doesn’t hurt.”
I didn’t understand what he meant until I felt him pulling the flimsy excuse of underwear aside. That’s when my cunt pulsed, just before he positioned his cock and easily slid right into my wetness.
The feeling of his thickness was too much, especially when I wasn’t expecting it. My mouth fell open in a silent gasp, and he moved his arm so the camera could see it, but also turned his head to the other side so they wouldn’t notice his lips moving as he murmured to me, “Careful, sweetheart. Can’t make any real sounds. Not like the ones I usually pull from you. Wouldn’t want your boyfriend to realize that we’re actually doing it, huh?”
Chris’ P.O.V.
My desire for her ran so deep, I could hear my blood pumping in my veins as I fucked her right in front of her boyfriend. Right in front of everyone from the filming crew, for the camera to see.
I took sick pleasure in knowing this moment would be eternalized for history. Everyone would see just how pretty she looks for me and only for me, and no one would ever know the truth.
No one would ever know the truth. That I had her, that she was mine, but only for a bit. That I got to hold her, and have her screaming my name, but I’d never get to hear it again. I’d never get to have her again.
I didn’t want to have to pretend that I forgot it. Like I didn’t know this other side of her, that we never shared these sexual experiences that felt much more intimate than anything I’d ever shared with anyone else before.
It was hard to pretend that I didn’t care underneath the mask of a character that cared too much, because I was that character. I loved this woman just like he did, and I wanted to show her just how much.
I’d looked for her in everyone I’d met before. Slept with so many women, went out on so many dates, and now here she was, clenching around my cock, reaching for my hand and still, she wasn’t mine.
How can you keep looking for the love of your life if you’ve already met them?
And even if there was emotion - and there was so much emotion, ours or of our characters, it didn’t matter anymore - this felt so dirty, dirtier than anything else we’d ever done before.
I’d had her in so many ways, and still, having her now, right in front of him, brought new feelings I never expected to feel. And I couldn’t suffer through them alone. I needed to make sure she’d acknowledged it too.
“He has no idea, you know,” I whispered, low enough so the only person who could hear was her. Her eyes met mine in surprise, but she kept in character, while I took advantage of my position to taunt her more. “No one has. No one knows you only look like this when you have my dick inside of you.”
A moan broke free from her, making me smile inwardly even though I couldn’t smirk like I wanted to. I let go of one of her hands to push a few strands of hair away from her face, so both the camera and I could get a good vision of her expression.
“You’re such a good girl for me, honey. He could never get you like this. Only I can do that.” The way she clawed at my back made it obvious that I was right. And still, the reality of our situation didn’t allow for me to feel any sort of pride in that.
I didn’t want to stop. I didn’t want to cum and have to pull out of her, let her go back to him and their life as I was left by myself. “I can’t let you go,” I admitted, and her eyes opened up to meet mine, a slight sparkle of understanding in them. “Not like this,” I continued. “Not ever.”
And still, my hips picked up the pace and brought us to that old familiar high, right when I came to terms with the fact that I’d have to leave her. “Baby,” I whispered, this time knowing the microphone would pick it up.
Our eyes connected once more, but this time, there was mostly pain, from my gaze and from hers. I stood there for as long as I could, thumbs brushing over her cheekbones, until the director’s voice freed us from the scene, and then I was forced to leave.
Before I did though, I had one last thing to say.
“I don’t want to have to miss you.”
One thing was certain. It would be impossible to remain professional during the press conference.
#my fics#chris evans smut#smut#chris evans#famous reader#chris evans x reader#chris evans reader#chris evans reader insert#chris evans reader inserts#chris evans reader smut#chris evans fiction#rpf
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karasuno boys as boyfriends
a/n: im just basically astral projecting myself into these situations; ALSO if you want more detailed ones, just ask, and you shall receive! (also this is my first post i’ve written on here! but if you want plenty of kpop content i’m @hyucksong where i’ve been writing and I am still active! :))
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[KARASUNO BOYS AS BOYFRIENDS HEADCANNONS]
-tsukishima, yamaguchi, hinata, kageyama, tanaka, nishinoya, sugawara, daichi, and asahi
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tsukishima kei.
the type to look you straight in your eyes when you ask for a hug and say “no, who do you think i am, your boyfriend?”
runs his hands through your hair from the front and then when his hand reaches the back of your head he pulls you into him and kisses you either on the forehead or the lips <3
in order to be in a relationship with him you HAVE to have the same type of humor.
i don’t think he could date someone who doesn’t make fun of people with him
you guys are like best friends who make fun of each other and. make out a little every once in a while
he’ll hold your hand and hug you in public but he will NEVER do anything else, especially not in front of the boys
he thinks the blush that ignites on your kissable cheeks should be for his eyes only
he gave you a keychain that had a cute little strawberry shortcake on it. and it’s your most prized possession
will shoot a glare at anyone who watches you too closely. like no. don’t get googly eyed over MY girlfriend.
and you don’t have a problem with that ;)
yamaguchi tadashi.
he likes to watch you when you’re not looking to pick out the little habits you do
he thinks that knowing someone’s little hardly noticeable habits is one of the most intimate things on mother earth
he knows that you stir the milk in the bowl three times before you pour the cereal in to check for chunks because you accidentally drank spoiled milk when you were younger
NEVER has an issue getting you a gift for any occasion. he ALWAYS knows what you’re looking at and what you want and you lowkey think he can read your mind but in reality he just pays attention <3
you’re either just as shy as him to bring out his more assertive side or more assertive than he is to bring out his more timid side -- both are good
kisses you on the forehead and holds your hand in public -- he loves PDA because he can show you off :’)
yes. he kisses the back of your nape in public. so what.
YES. HE CLOSES HIS EYES WHEN HE DOES IT AND ACCIDENTALLY INHALES YOUR SCENT AND WHISPERS IN YOUR EAR THAT YOU SMELL GOOD. IDC IF YOU THINK THAT’S CREEPY. IT’S CUTE. YES. HE GIVES YOU THAT LOOK THAT SAYS HE’S CRAZILY IN LOVE WITH YOU. SO WHAT.
kageyama tobio.
he probably fell in love with you because you were just as passionate about something else as he is about volleyball; music, drawing, writing, math, science, reading -- whatever
i see this relationship as being one that’s like...accelerated friends. like,,, you act like him and hinata except you kiss sometimes and he can see you at the end of the wedding aisle
DEFINITELY reads cosmopolitans once you start dating because he wants to be a good boyfriend for you <3
PDA is literally little to NONe,,, not because he doesn’t like it...it’s just because he doesn’t realize that he’s not showing you affection lololol
like in one arm he has his athletic duffel bag and the other he has a volleyball
he doesn’t mean to neglect you he just does AGAGAG
realized he liked you when he thought about you when he was drinking his milk and mindlessly bought you one too
the first time y’all kissed. he literally stared at you so intensely for a SOLID ten minutes debating in his head whether or not he should just go for it or wait or just smash his face into yours and hope your lips connect
he chose to cross his fingers and ended up smashing his forehead and nose into yours
it was cute tho <3
hinata shoyo.
YALL HAVE DATES WHERE YOU BABYSIT HIS SISTER. WTF SO CUTE
when yall cuddle and you’re the little spoon he likes to put his head on your shoulder/between your neck and watch as you scroll through tiktok or instagram and just mindlessly talk about his day
the type of boyfriend where neither of you can cook and you both confusedly look at recipes on google like: ????? wtf is the difference between brown sugar and regular sugar
it’s his INSTINCT to hold your hand. no matter what. his hand just...gravitates to yous.
AND HIS LIPS JUST FIND YOUR CHEEK??? like it’s so natural to him to kiss your cheek when he sees you, even in public. it’s so adorable i--
THE TYPE OF GUY TO WIPE OFF FOOD FROM THE CORNER OF YOUR MOUTH AND STILL EAT IT AND SAY “you taste good!~” AND NOT EVEN REALIZE WHAT HE SAID. BUT WHEN YOU DO IT TO HIM HE BLOWS A FUSE
he loves to tickle you. like you’ll be vibing, drinking whatever you drink in the morning and he’ll come up to you all casually and kiss you cheek...and then he’ll pounce
he holds you close to his chest when he tickles you, partally because he likes feeling your laugh vibrate on his chest, and partially because it’s easier to not get tickled if he’s right behind you
his sister LOVes you and it just. makes him so happy
tanaka ryuunosuke.
you CANNOT remove his hand from your ass. it is permanently glued there. it is attached to you. yes, even in public.
number 1 hypeman! he will always support you, no matter what! you could be in a competition to raise the biggest beetle and he’ll be there rooting you on and staying up late with you as you rear your award-winning beetle
you two lay next to each other on the couch/on his bed and he’ll have his arm around you and you’ll lay your head on his chest as you watch netflix shows
YOU, NISHINOYA, AND TANAKA? UNSTOPPABLE TRIO. POWER TRIPLET.
i don’t imagine him being shy when he first kisses you; the first time he kissed you, you were literally just. existing and he literally just...couldn’t hold it in...and he just went for it
literally CATAPULTS himself into you and kisses you senseless
yes you and saeko are besties she gives you ALL the tea about young tanaka
the type to take off his shirt more during practice if you’re there watching, and literally BURN red if you mention anything about his muscles
you once traced a vein in his arm and commented on how hot it was and he literally short-circuited
kiss his biceps. kiss his abs. kiss his cheek. please. it’s all he wants. he’s touch-starved
nishinoya yuu.
SUCH an excited boyfriend
like he seriously gets so hype doing ANYTHING with you pleaSE give this man an award. you’ll be at the amusement park and the line to get into a ride will be three hours and he’ll be like
“I get to spend three hours with you?!! fucking sick! absolutely radical!”
he’s bold in public, but only because he wants to rub you in his teammates faces, but his ears will be Red
at home, he’s calmer :) he just loves to spend time with you, even if you’re sitting on a bench watching him practice receives for five hours straight in the blazing sun.
he just treasures your time so much, you treats you like a precious gem -- he will NEVER treat you wrong. deadass has no problem admitting when he’s wrong -- but if he thinks he’s right then he WILL stand his ground
he’s a passionate man, who loves just as passionately.
his favorite time to kiss you is after you’ve taken a sip of a soda because he likes the taste of the syrup and the burn of the carbonation, but most of all because he likes the taste of your lips in combination with all of them
NIPS AT YOUR EAR. DEADASS JUST LOOKS AT YOU BRUSH A PIECE OF HAIR BACK WHEN YOU’RE DOING HOMEWORK AND IS LIKE “free real estate” AND C H O MPS
the day nishinoya told everyone yall were dating, kiyoko stopped you in the hallway and deadass got on her knees and thanked you LITERALLY she was like “i’ll buy you anything. give the word and it’ll be yours.”
sugawara koushi.
would kiss you on the first date. deadass. he’ll just drop you off at your doorstep and you’re still high on adrenaline, and you’re lowkey hoping he’ll kiss you and you get little disappointed when he doesn’t and then when you least expect it. bam. his lips on yours
his smell oh god, he literally smells like fresh sugar cookies. it’s like as soon as you get anywhere near him his smell just invades you nose and. you’re powerless. you just wanna hug him
never smells bad. try me, bitch. NEVER.
his hugs are literally god’s gifts. he loves hugging you. he just completely envelopes you with his pretty setter arms and his smell takes up all the space in your head and nothing else exists for that moment, just you two
loves tucking your hair behind your ears or just moving it out of your face; doing homework and your bangs are in the way? not for long because he’ll clip them up for you <3
he’s pretty mischievous and will playfully put his hand next to your head and lean down with such a HOT look in his eyes
and he’ll say some shit like “i wanna devour you” and then he’ll laugh afterwards and give you a kiss on the forehead and you’re standing there. like -.- o.o -.- o.o
whenever he feels insecure about his position on the team, you’re always there to comfort him and he’ll just lay between your legs and rest his face on your stomach as you comb your fingers through his hair and scroll through tiktok
PDA? yes please. uh huh. mhmm. he doesn’t care who sees his love for you he just wants to love on you baby. kisses you on the lips, no problemo
daichi sawamura.
you and suga are the only ones who can scare him when yall are mad lol
boyfriend where you’ve dated for like a year but it feel like 50 have already passed. in a good way!
this relationship is so ungodly domestic. like from the first day it’s just pure comfort and he’s like your rock and you’re his anchor
you two bicker a lot but it’s lighthearted and you just feel so secure with him that poking fun at him and at yourself is just natural
daichi. gives. god. hugs. he does. it’s fact.
his arms are just so big and he has so much body warmth and he probably smells like some bullshit cologne like “smoldering woods” and it’s just so. daichi
you two spend the night at each other’s house so often it’s like you already live with each other and people always forget that you don’t lolol
totally sleeps with his shirt off and only with underwear. isn’t awkward about it either; when he wakes up he puts on sweats but still remains topless (not that you’re complaining)
you two are like. the strict parental couple, when you walk together whether it be down the street or in the hallways, you just look so right for each other it’s. mind blowing
doesn’t mind kissing you a little in public but really thinks that stuff should be for private; so normally he just kisses your temple and always has an arm either around your shoulder or around your waist
WHEN THE TEAM SEES YOU KISS ON THE LIPS THEY GO “EW” EVEN SUGA AND ASAHI AFIEFHEWIF
asahi azumane.
literal fucking teddy bear. god please cuddle him. please kith him. please comb through his hair with your fingers and kiss his nape and kiss the back of his head. please i beg of you.
did NOT ask you out first. he wrote love letter to you and then waiting behind the gym because he thought being near the volleyball gym would give him some luck and them you got in front of him and he was. deer in the headlights
needless to say you asked him out and kissed his cheek. he DIED
even once yall are comfortable in the relationship he still needs reassurance every once in a while because he’s a little insecure, not that you’ll leave him for someone else, but that he’s not good enough
his PDA skill are. subpar. he usually just holds your hand and that’s it, but sometimes kisses the corner of your eye or nose and you just combust
OH RIOGEH TOTALLY DOES BUTTERFLY AND BUNNY KISSES. YES GOD YESSSSS
when yall cuddle he doesn’t like spooning. he likes to be able to see your face and the expressions you make, so doesn’t like being the little or big spoon; yall face each other and just lets your head lay on his arm even tho it’s numb. im: soft
kisses are so sweet, slow, and hesitant. he doesn’t really kiss you often because he has terrible timing but...when he does it’s like the whole world just becomes still in that moment and nothing matters but his hands on your waist and yours in his hair
#haikyuu#tsukishima x reader#tsukishima fluff#kageyama x reader#kageyama fluff#hinata shoyo x reader#hinata shōyō#yamaguchi x reader#yamaguchi fluff#tanaka x reader#tanaka fluff#nishinoya x reader#nishinoya fluff#sugawara x reader#sugawara fluff#daichi x reader#daichi fluff#asahi x reader#asahi fluff#haikyuu headcanons
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beautiful, beloved, mine (m)
summary: you set him ablaze. he can only hope you like watching him burn for you. alternatively: this love for you is consuming him, and it all comes out in a badly vomited confession after he corners you at a gala.
pairings: shouto todoroki x f!reader
genre: pro heroes au, characters are aged up 20+
warnings: smut, dry humping, shouto comes in his pants, sub!shouto, he’s a good boi for you, he loves you very much n wants to be your baby
length: 2,447
notes: can u tell how much i love him pls -
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.
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“Can I be yours?”
Shouto Todoroki, ranked third pro-hero in Japan, has his strong arms braced around your head. In all your years of friendship, he has never been anything but exceedingly polite. He is well-behaved, thoughtful and sharp. He is guarded, though not intentionally, not anymore—it is reflex, a shield he has never really learned to lower. A reminder of his childhood.
You think he’s drunk. He must be, beautiful dual-coloured locks dishevelled, black button-up half-open and exposing his gorgeous collarbone. You watch, unwittingly, as a bead of sweat trickle down his neck. His sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, biceps flexing.
The dimmed lighting unfairly accosts you with his devastatingly handsome features and muscular body. And his eyes. His heterochromatic eyes are alight with something fierce and intense. They are also clear, glowing, almost, in the dark.
The two of you are somehow on the balcony, shut away from the rest of the world, the bass and the sounds of life fading in your little bubble until all you can hear is the blood rushing in your ears, the warmth of his breath, the heat of skin and the fluttering of your heart in your throat. The cement wall digs into your back.
No, you correct yourself. He isn’t drunk. He’s barely tipsy. He doesn’t like to drink, rarely acquiesces to Kirishima’s insistence of shots.
He doesn’t smell like alcohol. His scent has always been calming, detectable under the thin layer expensive cologne he uses—he doesn’t like perfumed smells either, only uses it on nights like these, when he’s obliged to look the part—that fresh, cool scent. Of clean sheets, laundry detergent.
Still, this is out of character. Todoroki has never once crossed a line with you, with anyone. He’s quiet, reserved, though he smiles more now, the forming dimples in the corner of his eyes a living testament to his character growth. He treats others fairly. He is not unkind, honest and straight-forward. He is many things, and with the way he’s gazing down at you now, you are suddenly reminded of Midoriya’s hushed remarks earlier.
“You can’t see it, but Todoroki-kun treats you differently. He thinks about you, what you’d like and what you like. He cares about you so he’s careful around you. He wants to cherish you. He’s cold because he uncertain. He doesn’t know what to do. This is all new to him.”
“What is?”
The number one pro-hero had looked at you strangely. “Being in love.”
Midoriya is indisputably Todoroki’s best friend. Still, his actions are baffling. Why you? Why now? No, you couldn’t see it at all.
“Todoroki, are you drunk?”
“No. Though I required a little … liquid courage, as they say,” he rasps. He’s so close. His voice, so deep and husky, has you biting your lower lip. His gaze falls immediately.
He doesn’t touch you. The way his arms flex, hands clenching and unclenching, and his stiff posture tells you he wants to. He’s visibly restraining himself. Waiting, watching. Hoping.
“You never … why me?” You say softly.
“I could not. I wanted to, so badly. I have always wanted you. I always thought it was impossible for someone like me—to find someone I would want to share my life with, given my upbringing and dysfunctional family. But then things changed, got better, and then I met you.” He takes a shaky breath.
“I found wordless comfort in your mere presence. I found I could be emboldened, empowered, changed by your words. Every day I wondered how I could be worthy of you—if I could ever be worthy of you. Then I realized it was you … it would not matter to you, so long as I was honest with who I was. That is just the kind of person you are …” He shuts his eyes. His lashes are so long, you note absently.
“I am touched by your existence … I find joy in your spirit, yearning for your embrace, for the heat of your skin pressed against mine, I crave it … these foreign desires, they elicit something dark within myself,” he continues, breathing a little ragged now.
“This need, this desperation, like fire spreading in my veins, uncontrollable and hungry … I feel restless, itching for something, someone … Now I finally understand. I feel like I want to—to devour you. It is no longer enough, seeing you as I do, being as we are, mere friends … I want more, need more. With this desire to monopolize, I fear I have become … insatiable,” he trails off, turning his face to the side in shame.
Oh. Shouto Todoroki is in love with you, you realize with a jolt. He longs for you. For your companionship, your wit, your soul and your body. Your heart.
You reach up with a trembling hand to touch his jaw, guiding him until he looked at you once more. He doesn’t resist, pliant and eager as he leans into your hold.
“Only if I can be yours in return,” you say.
He lurches forward, knees nearly giving out as he slumps in your arms. “Oh, thank god, I … I was anxious I would have ruined everything. I knew it was unlikely they would be reciprocated, but I—I had to try,” he gasps. “This desire, it was consuming me.”
“Todoroki …” You thumb his cheekbone. He sighs faintly, body curving over yours as he presses close. “Call me Shouto, please …”
“Shouto.” He makes a strangled noise.
“Again. Please. You must understand, I have longed for this for so long …” He pleads shyly.
“Shouto,” you whisper, stroking his cheek. He’s so unexpectedly adorable. So, so adorable.
“My apologies, darling. I know I’m taking liberties, but I’m weak … I’m not strong enough to resist such temptation. Not while you are here, in front of me like nights when I dared to dream… So beautiful.” He nuzzles your palm.
You flush at his term of endearment, at the rawness of his tone. He has laid himself bare, singing his truth like a Shakespeare sonnet.
“You woo me like you’re waxing poetry … does this often work with others?” You murmur. You think you’re in real danger of melting.
His eyes fly open in alarm. “No. Never. It has only ever been you. I speak only from the heart, I have never—never done this before, am I explaining myself poorly? I am often told my words could use some more tact …”
Your heart swells.
“I’m just teasing, Shouto,” you say softly, combing a hand through his locks apologetically. “Your words are beautiful, I’m touched, truly.”
He relaxes, curling closer in your embrace.
“You don’t know … how I dream of building a home with you, of sharing all my firsts with you, cooking and setting the table with you … breakfast after long nights, filling the space between us with laughter and joy. Sleeping next to you,” he slurs. And then he goes on plainly, “How I fist myself every night thinking of the swell of your hips, the curl of your lips, your sweet, enthralling scent …”
You inhale sharply. Part of you is entirely taken back by the dual-haired hero’s use of uncharacteristically vulgar descriptions. His words drip over you like a honeyed aphrodisiac. Sweet and addictive.
“May I?” He draws closer, hands releasing you to brace against the concrete behind. Your body shivers involuntarily, missing the heat of his palms immediately.
“Yes,” you whisper.
Shouto dips his head, beautiful heterochromatic eyes watching you carefully for any sign of hesitation or indication you wanted to stop. Ever the gentleman.
This is who he is, you realize. Respectful of your boundaries, honest and, with you, gentle. He eyes flutter close when his lips touch yours. They’re warm, sweet with a hint of the alcohol he consumed earlier. Your fingers bury themselves in his locks, the kiss unhurried, savouring each moment.
Then you open your mouth, tongue touching his. And Shouto falters. He groans throatily, your nose tickling at the scent of ash. Ah. He’s losing control. He jerks away quickly, right hand enclosing over his left.
“Don’t tempt me,” he rasps, blush rising.
You snag the rumpled collar of his shirt, pulling him close. “Kiss me again.”
And when you guide his hands over your hips, he grips them tightly and crushes his mouth against yours, kissing you hard. Spit runs down your chins, messy and sensual.
Something hard presses against your inner thigh. You push his legs apart and shove your leg in between. He chokes, eyes rolling back.
“Ngh—!” He gasps. “More—hngg—please!”
You pull back to survey him. He chases after you, lips slick and swollen.
“Shouto. You like this?”
He pauses, sucking in a breath sharply, eyes flickering. And then—
“Yes,” he whispers, a whisp of flame flaring on his left.
Your core clenches over nothing at his needy, humiliated tone.
“I like this too,” you confess, trailing a hand over the ridges of his abdomen, fascinated by the way the muscles clench.
Shouto mewls, chest thrusting forward when you pinch his nipples experimentally through the cotton. “Ah—ughh—yes!”
“Can you come like this?” You wonder absently as you twist his perked nubs harshly. He moans brokenly, hips jerking.
“I—I d-don’t—kno—hah,” he pants, eyes half-lidded as he struggles to focus. Pleasure clouds his senses, head fuzzy and vision hazy.
“Can you get off here, like this?” You ask softly. “I want to see you come undone.”
Shouto blinks blearily at you, nodding eagerly. “Hng—yes, wanna be good for you,” he slurs. Oh. My. If you weren’t dripping before, you certainly are now.
He stumbles a little as you push him against the wall, switching positions. He’s barely standing at this point, leaning heavily against the cement as he gazes up at you with glazed eyes. He looks utterly fucked out and utterly delectable.
You undo the remainder of his buttons, holding him back firmly when he whines, pawing at the fabric, wanting to rip it off.
“We still have to walk out of here,” you remind him, giggling. His only blinks at you blankly as if to say and? Too gone to think of the consequences.
“This view is reserved for my eyes only,” you murmur, nails scraping against his nipples. He gasps, back arcing. “Yes, yes!” He agrees mindlessly.
He grinds against your thigh desperately, the weight of his cock heavy and hot. He throbs at every touch.
“Kiss—kiss, please,” he whines, reaching for you. You oblige, internally fawning over his cuteness.
His hips move faster, chasing release as he moans and keens into your mouth.
He parts from you with a gasp and wet shlick. “Feels so good—sho good—hngg,” he babbles. His asymmetric temperatures intensify, the heat of his left searing you and the chill of the right piercing you.
“Oh—I’m—I’m c-cu—” he cries out, gripping you tightly as he fucks himself against your thigh urgently. You push your leg against him harder, nails digging into his stomach.
“Come for me Sho,” you murmur, biting his lower lip. His mouth parts in a silent wail, head tossing as his eyes roll. His body shudders, something warm seeping into the fabric of your jeans.
With a strangled groan, he sags against you, exhausted and spent. You stroke his hair soothingly, brushing back the sweaty locks and peppering chaste kisses over his face as he comes down slowly.
Faintly, you register someone calling your name.
“Oh, Midoriya. Over here.”
Shouto is too out of it, still coming down from his high, his soft moans tickling your ear
“Oh, there you are! Have you seen Todoroki-kun? I—oh!” He squeaks loudly, spinning on his heel immediately and covering his reddening face.
What a sight the two of you must be. A perfectly debauched Shouto, shirt falling over his broad shoulders, the fabric clinging to his glistening skin, raised lines over his bare chest that appear angrier in the darkened lighting, slumped over you, body trembling from the aftershocks of his orgasm.
The One for All user pales when he spots the noticeable burn the size of a palm on the wall behind your head.
“Uh—neverminditwasn’timportanthahahaohsomeone’scallingmegottagobye!” Midoriya practically screams in your face before bolting from the scene in the next beat.
Shouto manages a tired chuckle as you blink in the wake of his dust.
“You’re surprisingly shameless,” you remark when you turn back to him.
His wry smile slips, letting out a weak mewl when you squeeze his cock over his slacks teasingly. He’s already chubbing up, hips rolling slowly against your touch.
“I told you, didn’t I? I’m insatiable when it comes to you, darling,” he murmurs, cheeks dusting.
“Then let’s continue,” you say, helping him stand. He valiantly tries to salvage whatever is left of his shirt, but it’s hopeless. He gives up, letting it drift apart, sculpted abdomen and chest in full view.
“Hmm. I quite like this view,” your palm rests on his stomach, smiling when he jolts at your warmth.
“My place or yours?” He breathes, pulling you flush to him.
“Yours, I think. I’ve been meaning to try out your new jacuzzi,” you rest your cheek against his chest, tracing nonsensical patterns on his pec. Goosebumps rise on his skin, and you can hear the rapid fluttering of his pulse. He’s—nervous?
“I built it for you,” he confesses, burying his face into your hair. “After you mentioned how much you wanted to try one, I thought—well, I don’t know what I thought. I only know that I went out the next day to hire a contractor and expand my bathroom. I suppose part of me nurtured a hope I’d one day pluck enough courage to ask you to come over and give it a try …”
You pull away, looking up at him in disbelief. He laughs dryly at your expression.
“Yes. I know. It sounds as irrational as it felt. I still haven’t used it yet.”
“Then …,” you hesitate. And then you say shyly, “Then if you’d like … we could try it today? Together?”
“I … yes, I’d love that,” Shouto swallows thickly.
You take his hand as the two of you start to make your way back. He squeezes your hand once.
“Let’s go home,” you say softly. The corner of his heterochromatic eyes crinkle, lips curling into a gentle beam. He looks radiant, beauty amplified by his dishevelled and unkept state. He leans down to kiss the corner of your mouth.
“Yes,” he says. “Let’s.”
#shoto x reader#shouto x reader#shouto todoroki x reader#todoroki x reader#todoroki smut#shoto todoroki x reader#bnha x reader#bnha smut#bnha imagines#mha imagines
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your girl calls me daddy too
pairing: johnny x reader
summary: the story of getting involved with your professor/classmate's dad 👀
word count: 4.5k
warnings: professor!johnny, dilf!johnny, daddy/sir kink, age gap bc johnny is older in this fic (reader is 21+, we dont do that barely legal just turned 18 shit) straight up smut, that's all we do on this blog
author's note: this took me from 8 pm to 4 am to write. idk if that's fast or not compared to some people but bitch... that's a record for me!
another note: idk if anyone's wondering but johnny is a single dad in this, no cheating or infidelity involved!
No one knows about your relationship with Johnny Suh, certainly not your family or friends, and certainly not his son who is in the same biology course as you this semester. The secret is kept strictly between the two of you, the thrill of hiding it making it that much more exciting.
The relationship began with him being your chemistry professor. The brief glances, lingering touches, and frequent visits during office hours became too much for either of you to deny the attraction. It felt so wrong, the professor-student affair being too much of a cliché that you were hesitant to follow through with it. But after a particular session discussing the assigned homework, you both realized it was now too late to go back.
***********************************************
“Professor, why are you looking at me like that?” you fiddle with your pen in your hand.
“I’m sorry, I’m just a little distracted.” Mr. Suh lets his eyes trail down your figure, eyeing the neckline of your dress that reveals just enough to get his imagination going. He’s thinking about the way you waltzed in here with that damn sundress on, the way you bite your lip when you’re confused on a reaction mechanism, the way your innocent eyes look up at him when he’s explaining the concept. He feels foolish, unable to focus on your question when you’re sitting across from him looking like that, the dress hugging your figure in all the right ways.
“Should I come back another time?”
Mr. Suh clears his throat, giving you another glance up and down before collecting himself. “No, no, I promise I’m fine. Let me check your work right quick.” You hand him the paper, watching as he leans back in his chair examining the mechanism you drew. You let your eyes do the same thing to him as he did to you, taking in the long sleeve black shirt he wore today that hugs his biceps almost too well. It has your hands itching to feel them under your fingers, to take the shirt off and see him in all his glory. Your eyes roam his face, the sharp features drawing you in. You imagine his plump lips doing things to your body that are sure to take your breath away.
He does not fail to notice your lingering stare, or the way you’re fidgeting in your chair. He pulls the sleeves of his shirt up his forearm and grabs his pen, leaning in to show you where you went wrong. As he’s explaining, you lean in too, your perfume filling his senses. You can’t seem to focus on what he’s saying, too busy tracing the veins along his arms and hands. Oh, how they would feel wrapped around your – okay, bitch you have got to chill.
“Miss Y/N, is something the matter?” The way your name rolls off his tongue has you swooning, the added ‘miss’ making your tummy flutter.
You feel your body temperature rising with each second, fiddling with your hands in your lap, your mind going crazy with impure thoughts. You take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down. “Uh, I’m sorry, could you repeat that?”
Mr. Suh notices your attention is elsewhere, setting his pen down and looking you directly in the eye, making you feel tiny under his intense gaze.
“You’re playing a very dangerous game.”
The statement catches you off guard, your cheeks immediately getting hot. “I- I don’t know, wha- what do you mean?” you stutter, which he finds endearing seeing you all flushed.
“Let’s not act like we don’t know where your mind is at,” he sees right through you. “Cause I’ll be honest, I’m right there with you.” His voice drops a couple octaves, sending a wave of arousal through you at the sound of it. Oh fuck, is this really happening right now?
Your breath gets caught in your throat, unable to respond. What the fuck do you even say to that? Mr. Suh gets out of his chair, his long legs coming around the desk and standing in front of you. He leans down real close to your face, bracing himself on the arm rests of the chair you’re in, effectively caging you in. If you thought you were getting warm before, you’re on the verge of burning up now. He’s smirking down at you, enjoying just how riled up you’re getting.
“Are you gonna tell me you haven’t been thinking of things other than chemistry during our meeting?” He cocks his head to the side, challenging you with a tease in his words.
“Um, professor, I don’t think we should be doing this…” you trail, glancing at the closed door behind you. His face is too close for comfort, looking anywhere but at him.
“Then tell me to stop,” his lips now ghosting your neck, so close you can feel his breath on your skin. He’s watching your chest rise and fall with heavy breaths. Every fiber in your being is telling you this is wrong on so many levels, but it’s making your body tingle in a way you can’t ignore. You’ve been thinking about him and it’s obvious he has been too, what’s stopping you from going further? You open your mouth to say something, but you can’t find any words to say, nothing to let him know you don’t want this.
“You have to tell me you want it then,” he pulls back from you slightly, waiting for your confirmation. If you don’t explicitly say yes, then he won’t push it any further.
You can’t take this any more, sitting up straight and saying “I want it” in one breath before crashing your lips against his. There’s no taking this back, you tell yourself as you let him take control. You sigh into the kiss, his lips feel so right against yours, letting the lust cloud your mind. He cups the side of your face, pulling you up by your waist to get a better angle to devour your lips. His hips push you against the desk, lifting you slightly to sit on the edge. Your hands bunch up his shirt, pulling him even closer to you. He bites your bottom lip as he pulls away, searching your face for any sign of regret. Instead, he’s met with your blown out expression, needy eyes asking for more.
Mr. Suh shakes his head in disbelief, almost chuckling. “You don’t know what you do to me, miss Y/N.” You love it when he calls you that. He steps back, turning around to lock the door. The sound of the lock only fuels your excitement, eager to see what he’ll do next. Your hands grip the edge of the desk as Mr. Suh stalks towards you, like a predator eyeing his prey. Oh, how you want him to eat you up right now. Your thighs press together at the thought, a movement he quickly notices.
His hands trail up the side of your thighs before resting on the curve of your ass. The fabric is soft to the touch but he bets your skin is softer. “What are you thinking of, you naughty girl?” His lips are back on you, letting your head fall to the side as he peppers kisses along your neck. “Just thinking about you,” you pant.
“I know that much. What do you want me to do, hmm?” he presses further.
“Anything you want,” falling further under his spell. He groans in your ear, ready and willing to take advantage of your submission. It’s more like you’ve got him under your spell. He knows this is wrong on a professional level, but fuck that right now.
“Turn around,” twisting your body before you can even do it yourself. His touch makes you so dizzy, bracing your hands on the homework assignment that has long been forgotten. He kisses your shoulder, pressing close to your backside as he admires you from behind, the dress doing wonders to accentuate your curves.
“You look so good in this dress doll,” kneading your ass in his hands. He gives it a tame slap, not wanting to be too rough since there are still other offices around his. “But I bet you’d look even better with it off.” The wetness in your panties is becoming unbearable, desperate for him to touch you where you need him.
“Touch me please,” your sweet voice begging him is more than enough for him to comply. He bunches your dress up over your waist to expose your soft skin, the thin panties you’re wearing showcasing your wet spot off clearly. His pants are getting incredibly tight, blood rushing to his member with each second. He lifts your right knee to rest it on the desk, trailing his fingers over the thin fabric.
“Right here?” he slides his fingers up and down your center, earning a shudder from you.
“Or here?” pulling your panties to the side and coating his fingers in your arousal. You let out an audible moan when he finds your clit, which prompts him to clamp his hand over your mouth. He cranes your head back to look you in your eyes, his hand still rubbing against your bundle of nerves.
“You’ll have to be quiet or else I’ll stop. Can’t have anyone around us hearing you.” You nod in understanding, eyes fluttering shut as two of his fingers slide into you with ease. You arch your back a bit more, pushing your hips further into his hand. It’s a good thing his hand is still covering your mouth because you can’t help your moans when his fingers are drilling into you so fast.
“You’re taking my fingers so well doll,” he’s gonna drive you insane with that nickname. You turn your head to get a better look at him, watching him part his lips as he watches his fingers disappear in and out of your core.
He slides a third finger in and you want to scream, the stretch makes you feel so full. You’re soaked now, the lewd sounds of your wetness making you feel self-conscious. Just then, his office phone rings. You gasp, looking at him with wide eyes. He lets go of your mouth but doesn’t pull his fingers out of you, pumping them in even as he reaches for the phone. You try to stay as quiet as you can with his fingers still working your core.
“Hello, this is Johnny Suh.” He looks you dead in the eye, telling you you better shut up without verbally saying anything.
“Ah, Jaehyun, what can I do for you?” Your legs buckle when he hits that spot, almost letting out a yelp. He shoots you another glare, pulling his fingers out and shoving them in your mouth to keep you quiet. He sets the phone down for a second, leaning in to your ear. “Play with yourself while I take this call. And shut up, I mean it.”
You can taste yourself on his fingers, the whole thing making you feel so filthy. Your hand reaches down to your core, rubbing yourself slowly as Mr. Suh picks the phone up again. You lick him clean, getting your own fingers wet now with your slick. He’s listening to the other person on the line but paying close attention to your hand in between your thighs. He likes watching you play with yourself, getting off on the thought of him.
“Okay, all that sounds great. Send me an email of the template and I’ll check it out. I’m with a student right now, so can I call you back later?”
When he finally gets off the phone, he shoves his fingers further into your mouth, almost making you choke on them. “Didn’t I tell you to be quiet? You couldn’t even do that?” You’re so worked up, you can feel your high approaching and you just want him to help you reach it.
You grab his wrist, pulling his fingers out of your mouth. “I’m so close,” bringing his hand back to your core.
“You want to cum? Beg for it,” he doesn’t make a move to touch you.
“Please sir, I wanna cum on your fingers, please please.” You stroke his arm gently, pleading with your eyes, anything for him to touch you again. How could he say no when you’re looking at him like that?
He tells you to turn around to face him, holding your leg against his waist. He watches your face contort in pleasure as he gives you what you want, rubbing yourself at the same time to chase your high. You try to keep your voice to a minimum, your sweet moans fueling him on. If his fingers feel this good in you, you can’t even imagine what else he’s got in store for you.
“Fuuuck, sir I’m cumming,” you cry weakly, closing your eyes and clenching around his fingers as you finally get that release. The sight of you coming undone on his hand is almost enough to take you right then and there, but he holds himself back. Your hand grips his wrist tightly, but he doesn’t stop pumping in and out of you until you open your eyes, worried he’s gonna try to get another one out of you so soon.
He finally stops, taking the chance to taste yourself by licking his own fingers clean. God, you thought sucking his fingers was hot, this is even better. He loves the taste of you, already craving more. Mr. Suh runs his hand along your inner thighs, taking a mental image of the sight of you spread open for him on his desk.
“Miss Y/N, I think it’s safe to say that we should keep this a secret between us.”
***********************************************
And that’s how your intimate relationship with your professor began. You’ve been in his office so many times after that, you’ve lost count, letting him take you on every inch of that desk. Before, during, and after office hours, you both crave each other’s touch. You know to keep your time together to a minimum though. You can’t be coming into his office whenever you want, or else it would start to get suspicious. Sometimes you catch yourself stealing glances at his son in biology class, wondering if he has even the slightest idea of what’s going on between you and Mr. Suh.
One day, when he’s at the front of the class teaching, all you can think about is his lips on you as he takes you from behind, whispering in your ear how dirty you are for letting him fuck you before class started. By the end of class, he passes the homework back out. You see a note written in red at the bottom of your paper.
127 Paradise Lane tomorrow 7 pm
It doesn’t take a genius to know what that means or what it entails. You quickly put your homework in your backpack before any curious eyes can see what’s written on it. You look up to see him steal a glance at you, making sure you got his note. Neither of you say anything as you walk out of class.
***********************************************
When you get to his house the next night, he welcomes you in with a warm smile, which quickly turns devious as he shoves you against the door immediately after closing it, capturing your lips in a heated kiss. You grab hold of his shirt as his hands roam your body, pulling him as close as you can. His hard bulge presses against your stomach, thoughts already wandering to how mind blowing his impressive length will feel in you. You want him, but one questions prods at your mind, pulling away from his lips slightly.
“Sir, what about your son? Is he gonna be home tonight?” You feel weird in your classmate’s house, but the fact that you’re about to fuck his dad as you’ve done plenty of times before is more overwhelming than your qualms about being here.
“He’s out of town with his friends,” running his hand up your back before grabbing your hair, pulling your head back so fast it surprises you. His breath is warm against your lips, “And when you’re in my house, it’s daddy.” You’re so used to calling him sir, knowing it turns him on but the new name in this new setting makes your insides tingle. You can’t hold back your smile, giving him your best “yes, daddy” to appease him.
Mr. Suh leads you to his bedroom, the king sized bed hitting your back as he throws you down. He towers over you, unbuttoning his shirt slowly. You sit up on your elbows, rubbing your thighs together as you eat up the man before you with your eyes. With each button that comes undone, you get more and more excited. He’s watching you intently, thinking of all the ways he’s going to ruin you tonight. He looks delectable with his shirt off, licking your lips at the sight of his well built figure.
“You’re gonna start drooling soon,” he teases, walking to his closet and pulling out one of his many ties. Whatever he’s thinking of doing with that, you have absolutely no complaints. You bite your lip in anticipation as he kneels on the bed, securing the tie around your neck into a makeshift collar. “Is this okay with you?”
You nod your head, but he pulls on the tie quickly, taking your breath away. “Use your words.”
“Yes, it’s ok,” you choke out. He doesn’t let up, asking instead, “Yes what?”
You’re gushing already, the control he has over you making your head spin. “Yes daddy,” you can barely get the two words out. He lets the tie go slack, coughing a bit at the sudden attack. His hand cups your face, “Sorry was that too much?” You nuzzle your cheek into his hand, telling him you loved it.
And that’s what he loves about you, that you take anything he gives you and enjoy every bit of it. You’re too much for him. He sits with his back against the headboard, tugging your arm to straddle him. “Did you wear this little dress for me?” his hands are sliding up and down your thighs, bringing out the goosebumps on your skin. You brace your hands on his chest, moving your hips against his jeans. The friction against your clit is oh so good and feels even better when he flexes his thigh after seeing your movements.
“You should see what I’m wearing underneath,” tugging the hem of your dress over your body, revealing your choice in white lingerie underneath, the color making you look angelic but is a stark contrast to the sinful things that are about to happen.
“Miss Y/N, what am I gonna do with you?” he asks as you pick up the pace of your hips, leaning down to press your lips to his neck. He lets you do what you want to him, encouraging your hips to move faster. Your small whimpers in his ear tell him you’re enjoying yourself, using his thigh to get off. You know not to leave any visible marks, opting for further down his chest to leave hickeys. His jeans feel so good against your core, finding more pleasure in riding his thigh than you thought, but it’s still not enough. “Want you to fuck me,” you moan breathlessly, pushing your chest into his face as you find that perfect spot to keep grinding against.
He hungrily pulls your bra down, attaching his lips to your hard nipple as he rolls the other one between his fingers. Your skin is so soft, he could bury his face in your tits all night. He leaves his own hickeys on your chest, admiring his work as he puts your bra back in place.
“Keep the lingerie on.” He pulls you down by the tie again, kissing you fervently as you fumble with his jeans. You get down on your knees, taking his clothes off so that he’s naked before you. His rock-hard member slaps against his stomach when you pull his pants off. You flatten your tongue against his member, locking eyes with him as you lick him from the base to the tip. You take him in your mouth, using your hands to fondle his balls to add to his pleasure. Using your tongue as much as you can to get him wet, you take him as far as your throat allows.
“You look so good with my dick in your mouth,” grabbing your hair and bobbing your head up and down on him. You let him use your mouth, parting his lips at the feeling of your warm tongue. When he lets go of your hair, you release him with a pop, sliding your hand along his length. “I bet I look even better with it in m—” you can’t even finish your sentence as he grabs you by the chin, shutting you up.
“I knew you’d say some shit like that. Why don’t you be a good girl and come ride this dick then?” He shoves your face away, but the roughness only turns you on even more. You straddle his hips, his hand pulling your lace panties to the side as you position him at your entrance. Both of you gasp as you sink down on him, the stretch quickly filling you up, your tight walls clamping against him.
“Fuck daddy, feels so good,” you whine. When he’s all the way in, you lean back on your hands in the cowgirl position, giving him the best view of where your bodies are connected. You feel so exposed in this position, but he can’t keep his eyes off your core as you move your hips, which makes you feel powerful under his glare. You know he loves it just as much as you do, giving him a show as you ride him.
A thought comes into your head, pulling out but quickly turning around so that your backside is facing him. You slide down on him again, his hands gripping your waist. You can move your hips faster in this position, setting a quick pace and slamming your hips against his. He’s lost in the way your ass bounces on top him. You let out a loud whine when his hand lands a hard slap on your ass cheek.
“I can’t do that when we’re in my office,” he lands another one to the same cheek, “but now I can.” He wants to see you red with his handprints, enjoying your little yelps at the sting. You clench around him each time he spanks you, doing so particularly hard but you can’t deny that you like the pain. By the last spank, your ass is on fire, but his large hands smoothing over them soon makes you forget about the pain.
Suddenly, you’re being yanked back by your hair, thrown on your side as he spoons you. Lifting one of your legs up, he slides into you from behind. The new position introduces a new angle for him to fuck you. “Oh shit, fuck, oh my god,” you can only curse as he abuses your core deliciously. Instead of using the tie, he wraps his hand around your throat to choke you. You grip his forearm, letting him use your body to his content.
“Your pussy is so good baby,” he growls in your ear. “So tight, so wet, I could fuck you all night. You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” You mumble incoherently as a response, too gone in the pleasure he’s sending throughout your body. You let out a choked scream as his hand that’s holding your leg up finds your sensitive nub, bringing you closer to the edge as he tells you how much he loves fucking you. Your legs shake as the pleasure overwhelms you, but he holds you close to keep you from going too far.
“Don’t run away, I know you can take it doll.”
“Daddy please,” you beg shamelessly but you don’t even know what you’re begging for. You want him to keep ravaging you, but you physically don’t know if you can keep up.
Mr. Suh makes the decision for you, pulling out of you to stand at the edge of the bed. He grabs your ankles, dragging your body towards him. He holds your legs together, pushing them towards your chest. He slides right back in, wasting no time in fucking you again. He loves watching his dick slide in and out of you, loves hearing you moan his name, loves how tight you get for him. You let your legs fall open, sitting up on your elbows to watch him fuck you. There’s something insanely hot about watching you take every inch of him, you can see why he enjoys it so much.
Your breasts bounce with each thrust, which makes him grab handfuls of your tits, pinching your nipples. “Baby, can I take a video of you? I won’t get your face in it, you just look so good in this lingerie right now.” You nod, feeling a surge of confidence at his words. He reaches for his phone on the nightstand, opening the camera and pressing record. He slows his thrusts, sliding into you slowly to show off how wet you are. The camera pans to your bra, giving them a squeeze for the video. He shoves your hand away, pulling your breasts out of your bra. He tugs on the tie, making sure not to get your face but still showing your makeshift collar off.
Without warning, he speeds his hips up again, earning a cry from you before ending the video and throwing his phone on the bed. He’s so riled up, he just wants to use you to finish. “You gonna cum for me daddy?” God, he loves hearing you beg for him. You sound so sweet saying the dirtiest things. “Cum for me please, I want it so bad, want you to cum in my mouth.”
“Oh shit baby,” he pulls out quickly, grabbing your hair and shoving himself in your mouth, his warm release all on your tongue. You swallow every last drop, sucking him off as he groans at the slight overstimulation.
He takes a second to catch his breath, noticing your not so innocent eyes looking up at him eagerly. A playful smile spreads across your face and he knows that look all too well.
You’re insatiable.
***********************************************
The next semester, you’re moving into a new dorm. Your parents are here to help you move everything in. You notice Mr. Suh’s son moving into the same dorm, looking around for a glimpse of him. He’s carrying a box of things from the car to the front entrance, stopping you for a quick “hello Miss Y/N, how was your break?”
He looks behind you, asking if those are your parents. “Maybe I should say something to them.”
“What are you gonna say?”
“Oh, I don't know, maybe something like: your girl calls me daddy too,” he jokes as you storm off, cheeks flushing red.
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Ohhh 22 with santi! 😈
Prompt #22: “Can you feel what your doing to me?”
Warnings: 18 + ONLY canon typical violence, kissing, feelings, fingering.
The adrenaline was pumping through his veins, and he felt unhinged. It was another stakeout, nothing new from the thousands of others over the years, except that wasn't entirely true. There was one significant difference.
He looked across the street and tensed his hands around the steering wheel, ready to strike at a moment's notice. You laugh, putting a hand on the bicep of the man, and the sound that once warmed his heart sends a wave of bile up his throat. His jaw is wired tight enough it could snap at any moment, and Diego snickers beside him, "you got it, bad brother."
"Shut up," he snaps back, turning his head to glare at the man beside him, "this was a fucking stupid idea." Diego raises his hands and takes a grimacing sip of the coffee before clearing his throat.
"You got to admit she looks pretty fucking delicious in that dress." He licks his lips staring at you, "I'd like to lift that little dress to see if she tastes as sweet everywhere else."
Santiago's blood runs cold, and he sharpens his tongue to slide the blade between Diego's ribs when he sees you move, following the man towards a black car. Diego radios to the other officers, and Santiago has to resist the urge to run and pull you back when he sees you slide inside. "Time to go," he mutters, turning over the engine, "I'm coming for you, baby," he whispers under his breath.
You stumble through the jungle, hearing the shots pop off behind you. You'd long ditched the four-inch heels tossing them into the foliage when you realized you'd been made. You pause for a second to catch your breath when you're knocked to the ground, hard.
You struggle, fighting against your attacker and kneeing them in the stomach. "SANTI!" you scream with everything you have, biting down when they cover your mouth.
"AH! Shit! Baby, it's me!" you freeze, slowly blinking your eyes open to see Santiago staring down at you.
"Santi," you whimper, tears flooding your eyes. You wrap your arms around his neck and finally let yourself relax. There is no doubt in your mind you're safe with him. "I thought," you stutter, "I thought I was dead there for a minute." The reality of the whole situation, how genuinely close to death, is astonishing.
You tremble in his arms, and Santi pushes back to look down at you, brushing the mud off your cheek before lowering his mouth down to kiss you. You moan, melting into the kiss and running your fingers to tangle in his onyx curls. He tastes like mint, and the spice of his cologne fills your lungs. You feel the salt on your tongue, and he shudders, pressing his forehead to yours, his tears hitting your skin.
"I was so scared," he admits, raising his head, "I need you to know. You have to know."
"What?" you ask with a whisper.
"I love you," he grinds his hips into yours, and you feel the rugged outline of his cock rubbing against the thin pink fabric. "Can-Can you feel what you're doing to me?" he puts his gloved finger in his mouth and tugs off the leather glove, tossing it away.
He runs his hand over your breast, your breath catching but your eyes never leaving his. He drags it lower, almost caressing every inch of your skin; he grabs a bunch of your dress and pulls it up your legs, revealing your panties. His finger is coarse and rough when it trails over your thighs, the gasp getting caught in your throat when he runs a thick finger between your folds over your panties. He groans at how soaked you are for him, almost dripping to the jungle floor in arousal.
"Can you feel what you're doing to me?" you toss his words back at him with a low whimper. He fingers the panties to the side and dips his finger inside you. You surge forward, sucking his bottom lip between your teeth and listening to the symphony of moans.
"Fuck, baby," his lips burn a trail down your jaw to your neck, where he devours you.
"Santiago!" his head snaps up, and he frowns when your name is called out.
"Fuckin' Diego," you whimper when he pulls out his finger, sucking them between his lips. "We got to go, baby, but this is far from over." He stands, lifting a hand out for you and helping you to your feet; he pulls you close, kissing you hard and quick before Diego comes stomping through the trees.
"Where did you two run off to?" he looks between the two of you before a grin splits across his face. "Ah, I see." Santiago takes a step forward to shield you, and Diego turns with a laugh tossing over his shoulder, "looks like you went for a roll in the jungle!"
You roll your eyes and let out a chuckle, "safe to say the entire police force is going to know now." Santiago turns with a sigh and a nod before pulling you into his arms.
"And what are they're gonna know, baby?"
"That I'm in love with you."
#Autumn Writes#Santiago Pope Garcia#Santiago pope Garcia x Female reader#Female Reader#Triple Frontier#Oscar Isaac#Oscar Isaac character fanfiction
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without me? | ron b. weasley (request)
summary; you and ron say goodbye.
tagged; @partr1dge <3
word count; 1.6k
content; this is really fucking sad, arguing, angst galore, making out, mention of horcruxes, no foreplay y'all i'm sorry, unprotected sex (let’s say she’s on birth control), sad sex (smut), riding, fluff/angst.
a/n; i know this is serious but now i can't stop thinking about all those fuckboy memes like "a haha..... fuck, without me?" also this physically hurt me to write !! i'm sorry anon, this is way too sad, and i know you mentioned them having their first time, but i hope you don't mind that i changed the story a little so they were together for the ‘last time’ !!
you and ron had been arguing, and yelling, and crying, for hours now. it wasn't intense, nor heated. it was cold, it was brash, it was heartbreaking and earth-shattering. you could feel a harsh weight in your chest much akin to a gaping hole that made your limbs feel heavy, and your head hot. that made you feel utterly weak. your face felt warm and swollen from all the tears that had run down it, and his cheeks were flushed pink, face blotchy.
you think, now, that you weren't really that angry, just desperate. you just wanted an excuse, to create an argument, an argument that could very well have been your last. and you wanted to make him feel the way that you did, being left here while he went off to get himself killed, at least a little bit. but not too much. merlin, you wouldn't have wished this feeling of hopelessness on anyone else.
ron weasley had a strong heart, so strong that it chipped away at himself with every person he loved. his friends, his family, you.
and he had a strong head on his shoulders, determined, courageous, yet burdened by endless insecurity.
and you loved him.
your voice cracked for what felt like the millionth time, as the argument reached its shallow peak, where you two were just silent, before finding another reason to argue again, "why can't i just go with you, please, ron?"
"you wouldn't be safe! i've told you this, it's bloody dangerous!"
"you say that as if i haven't always gotten you out of something dangerous! i was there when you got those stupid scars up your arms, i was there for you —"
"i know, i know —"
"merlin, ron, i'm always there! i've always been there when you do stupid shit with harry and hermione!" you pointed to your side, as if an invisible audience were observing you, "why on earth is it — is it up to you to decide now that you want to protect me?"
"because i don't want you to get hurt, not because of me!"
"well, you're doing a pretty fucked up job of that."
you both swallowed, then sighed heavily, sitting down on his bed. he sat, hands clasped in his lap, body tensed. you pressed your hands into the mattress, leaning over it and letting your hair fall down into your face. this was so messed up. reaching over silently, without looking up, you took his hand in yours.
"don't go," you croaked, "i love you."
"i love you too." he whispered, not trusting his voice not to crack if he spoke any louder. but he didn't give you an answer. he didn't need to. you both knew there was no turning back on his decision, that it was something he had to do, that it was something you'd have to accept.
sniffling, you finally lifted your head, looking over at him with tears blurring your vision. you picked up his hand in yours, brushing your lips over it, and shutting your eyes.
he took you in his arms, gently grasping your jaw and kissing you softly. when he pulled away, you carefully pushed him back to you, fingers ghosting the nape of his neck as you both tilted your heads, breathing ragged, cheeks wet. you could taste the salt in your mouth as your tongue swiped over his, not in a battle for dominance, but a cautious waltz of need.
you climbed into his lap, bending down to meet his lips, arms wrapped tightly around the nape of his neck, desperate to just be close. he clutched your waist, kissing down your jaw to your neck, not feverishly, tenderly — he wanted to memorise every piece of you, and guard it with his life. for you, he would. for you, it was worth it. it was worth everything.
sliding down your tank top to your hips, he placed more wet kisses to your exposed breasts, paying attention to the way your chest rose and fell, licking over your nipples and suckling gently on the buds as you slowly rolled your hips into his.
you didn't want to think of it as a goodbye. but he'd left you no choice, informing you just a day before his departure that he'd be going to hunt for horcruxes to help his friends. and it was such a selfless thing to do, and it was so ron, running into a battle with no armour on. it was an act of wavering courage. yet you couldn't help but feel fury burst through you, entangling with your worst fears, your pity, your desperation, your sadness.
you wanted to keep ron weasley protected, away from everyone else, away from hurt, away from the trials of life and death. it was unrealistic, but you craved it nonetheless, and you let that want course through your veins, blood burning. you could feel it in your wrists, at your pulse, at your throat, in your stomach, simmering. these were shallow, scalding waters that you waded through, knees giving in, heart giving out.
he moved you to the centre of the bed, taking off his shirt and letting it fall to the ground; you studied him for a moment, broad shoulders, freckled skin — you thought he was beautiful. then you eyed his arms as he leaned over you, covered in deep, white scarring, circling up to his bicep, the cause of the scars even having lashed out at his waist, licks of ivory decorating the sides of his torso. and, pulling your tank top and shorts down, his eyes devoured all the newly exposed skin too.
you didn't speak — you couldn't speak. your hearts were still aching and this was merely a distraction, a last dance.
he trailed desperate kisses down to your waistline, then hooked your panties down, kissing over your inner thighs, making you squirm. then to your hips, and your waist, lengthening the distance between you and what you wanted most.
not wasting another second, he kicked off his own pants and underwear, and slowly dragged the head of his cock over your slit.
he found his voice somewhere, buried in the pit of his stomach.
"are you ready?" he rasped, swallowing.
"mhmm." you nodded, and wrapped your legs around him, hands grasping his shoulders as he eased himself in, just like he'd done many times before.
you groaned quietly together, closing your eyes and savouring the feeling one last time. you clenched tight around him as he set a slow pace, hips gently thrusting against you, both letting little moans slip from your mouths, throats dry from all the shouting and crying. the feeling of fullness enveloped you as he thrust in as deep as he could go, making you gasp and wrap your arms around him tighter.
“so good for me, love. feels so good.” he muttered between pants, the words only making you pulse around him tighter. you had a bizarre urge to both cum and hold off as long as you could so this would go on as long as possible, as long as you needed him on you, inside you.
the sex was soft, bittersweet, filled with random kisses, both rolling your hips against each other. sometimes with ron, it was urgent, needy, desperate, brutal. and despite feeling all of those things at once, you grasped onto each other and never picked up the pace, clammy hands and warm skin, quiet groans and pounding hearts.
“ronnie, i wanna ride you.” you mumbled against his lips, as he allowed you to ease off him, finally straddling his hips once he was slouched against the headboard. you lazily rocked your hips against his, dragging your soaked folds over his shaft, finally letting up and sliding onto his cock once he pinched at your hips and gave you a desperate look.
“fuck, y/n. so tight around me, riding me like that.” he groaned, warm breath fanning over the shell of your ear as you wrapped your arms around his neck for support, head buried in the crook of it, bouncing steadily and moaning every time the new position made the thick head of his cock hit your g-spot.
“i love you.” you groaned, hips meeting his and no longer bouncing, just rocking back and forth, rolling your hips against his slowly.
“i love you too. so fucking much. never wanna leave you.”
“don’t.” you sniffled again, eyes filling with tears once more.
“i don’t want to.” you began riding him properly again, slowly, as he met your thrusts, rutting up into you. the crack in his voice was evident, and you avoided sobbing again by pressing your head even further into his neck, kissing the pale skin softly.
moaning, you bit your bottom lip, “i’m gonna cum, baby.”
“cum for me.” he breathed as you obliged (without much choice), body twitching as your orgasm washed over you powerfully, eyes screwed shut, thighs squeezing against his.
sensitive, he kept rocking up into you slowly, shallow moans building up from the back of his throat, voice raspy, “gonna cum, shit.”
you felt the sudden warmth as he pumped load after load of cum into you, and you kept your eyes closed, holding onto ron tighter than you thought possible as his trembling hands caressed your waist.
“can we stay like this, a sec’?”
his cock began to soften inside you, and he mumbled against your shoulder after a moment, “yeah.”
so you just held each other, breathing and hearts slowing down.
you mumbled into his neck. "promise you'll be safe?"
you could feel him smile softly against your shoulder.
“if it means coming back to you? i promise."
#harry potter#n*sfw#n*fw#smut#angst#harry potter x reader#angst smut#sad smut#soft smut#harry potter fic#hp#hp fic#ron weasley#ron x reader#ron weasley x y/n#ron weasley x you#ron weasley x reader#ron fic#ron weasley fic#ron smut#ron weasley fluff#ron weasley imagine#ron weasley angst#horcrux#horcruxes#ron weasley smut
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Render Your Heart | J.Jaehyun
(Jaehyun’s Tattoo Edit - @rrregan)
Summary: Growing up beside your brother’s best friend forces you to keep your crush a secret. But who knew, the way you’d expose yourself was when you asked for help from a dropout high school student. When your lie of an excuse gets caught and your long time dream becomes a reality. Careful though, don’t get caught.
Genre: smuT
Pairing: bad boy!Jaehyun x reader (ft Taeyong big bro)
Word count: 5.8k
Warning: Jaehyun has tattoos (sleeves, chest), hard dom!Jaehyun, fingering, rough, orgasm denial, dirty talk, explicit content, wet and messy sex, begging, orgasm control, spanking, humiliation, praise, punishment, teasing, nipple play, cum licking/swallowing, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, marking, cock worship, blowjob, throat fucking, hair pulling, gagging (on cock), cum swallowing i think i said that, rough sex, cockwarming, belly bulge, thrill sex? risk of getting caught, safe systems because that is very important to have, also safe sex please this isn't something you should follow
a/n: Yeet. I drank 2L of water writing this.
Also thank you @hyuckiesgf for helping me read thru this <3.
_____
“Y/N?”
He slowly slides the paperwork off your lap, exposing your legs in the short skirt you’re wearing, the almost non-existent breeze from the fan now hitting your skin, leaving you feeling very naked. His arm swings across your shoulder, closing the gap between the two of you sitting side by side against the couch.
“Y-yes?” You stutter out, your head turning to see his hand resting so close to your face.
“So why don't you tell me what you really want?"
You gulp down the saliva forming in your throat as you watch his hand fall to your legs, the veins from his wrist bulging out as he gently squeezes your thigh for a response. “Hmm? What are you talking about?"
His left hand creeps up your skin, sliding up the inside of your thigh as he tip toes up your skin, tracing his fingers very softly, gliding closer to the hem of your skirt, “You want me to believe you called a high school drop out for help, on a university assignment?”
His hand climbs closer to the inside of your thigh, and the background noise coming from the TV is no longer audible to you. Your figure frozen suddenly, feeling all the tiny details of his touch, the texture of his fingertips, trailing along the inside of your thigh, going up and then back down, moving around in an eight pattern.
“Why’d you call me over?” He murmurs, his eyes focused on your parted lips, watching as they fall open slightly.
“I-I wait – hold on.” Your mind runs in a mess as you stutter out a random string of words in an attempt to think.
The hand on your thigh suddenly halts, no longer gently squeezing and fluttering along your skin. “I’m waiting?”
You realise the nerves from your stomach, from the touch in your thighs, from the dim lighting in the midnight timing, were all connected directly to your pussy. His touch, causing your pussy to self-lubricate and swell at its own volition, in strict disobedience to your control.
“It’s not what you think.” You mumble.
“Is it not?” He whispers, flipping himself to face you. His free arm flies to the back of the couch, using it to support his weight as he leans forward, keeping you encircled by his body. Your eyes glance over to the side, following the abstract shapes tracing up his forearm. The simple black tee rising higher up his arm, exposing his pale skin – mostly obscured by the smooth paintings in ink that wind up his biceps. “What are you staring at baby?”
Abruptly, your breath hitches, your pussy simultaneously releasing a gush of wetness at the nickname, the darkness of his eyes staring down at you. His fingers press against the damp spot in your panties as his breath goes to the crook of your neck. Your cry of alarm being quickly muffled as you bite down on your tongue in resistance. His breath tickles your neck and your hands clench onto the sheet of paper you’re holding, scrunching it up unknowingly.
“Should I stop?” Jaehyun removes his face away from your side, moving to face you, letting his gaze fall on your lips.
Your mind spins around in circles as the inner conflict begins. The two of you had always flirted but took nothing seriously, not wanting to mess up the relationship he had with your brother. Taeyong would also never approve of it, his own wish was for you to find a more responsible guy who didn't have so many bad influences. Which was also hypocritical considering his own nature.
Jaehyun watches as your eyes flutter shut, your body involuntarily moving up for a stronger presence of his touch. He follows along smirking, deciding to press a little harder as he finds your sensitive clit.
“Fu-ckkk” You draw out, your body sinking deeper into the couch.
He towers over you, his shoulders squared and blocking your view from anything behind him. His dark eyes sweep over you, his gaze trailing from where his finger presses, up to your naturally pink lips before he lets out a low, deep, exhale of desire.
“Can I continue?” He whispers, leaving a soft kiss at the corner of your jaw.
Your hand still holding onto the paperwork is now crushed, the sheet mushed into a ball as you dig your fingers into it. Your other hand leaves the couch, reaching out to his chest, flattening weakly against his muscles. “Jae- th-this, fuck, we ca-cant do this.”
“Why not?” He pauses for a few seconds, waiting for an answer, but nothing forms out of your mouth, only the lifting of your hips to meet his touch yet again.
His drawn back to your clit when you can’t respond, gently pinching at it through the fabric as you let out a stifled moan. Your palm weakens against his chest as your strength drains from your body, achieving nothing. You may as well try pushing a whole truck instead. Jaehyun wasn’t budging, his muscle and strength, his chest and shoulders, alarmingly hard. And truth be told, you weren’t trying to get him off.
You knew you were slipping, losing your grip on your rationality as you moan out again feeling his fingers tease your clit through the thin material of your underwear. As your body relaxes into the couch, your skirt slides up, revealing the little amount of skin left unseen, all the way to your panties. His weight is still barely on you but his leg wedges between your knees as he kisses closer to your parted mouth.
“What about my brother?” You stutter out, your eyes squeezed shut at the sudden contact.
Jaehyun’s lips brushes against yours, forming a smirk after hearing your words, “Taeyong? He won’t know,” he places a soft peck, “unless you tell him.”
It sounded safe right? Jaehyun wouldn't tell him and there’s no way you ever would. You nod along to your thoughts, but within the next second, Jaehyun is devouring your lips. His hand which previously laid against the couch, now cupping your cheek as his other hand continues to rub you through your panties.
Your arousal grows as you realise how screwed you were if Taeyong saw this, how you probably looked so helpless pinned underneath his best friend’s figure. Jaehyun continues, both stimulating you and checking the level of your arousal. The ripples of lewd, mind numbing pleasure racing through your body making you panic, as you constantly try to detect the sound of the shower in the background. Waiting for it to stop and for Taeyong to come trampling through the scene. Your pussy was oozing and throbbing, obeying his fingers and his crushing desire as you panicked for your life.
You had yearned for his touch and sensation and savagery, and he was giving it to you, just like you had imagined it, and you felt herself melting under his assault. Your cries diminishing and becoming more like beseeching moans as he slips his fingers under your panties, parting it to find your slit.
“Fuck your so wet for me.” He groans, pausing in between your frenzied kiss. There’s only the sound of your soft gasps for breaths against the wet kisses before you realise there’s no other noise.
“Jae the showers stopped.” You mumble against his lips, bringing both your hands to his chest, pushing him back only slightly.
“Then we should hurry, shouldn't we?” The frantic moan that escapes your lips are left to mean anything: fear, urgency, or imploring lust, desperate to relieve the tension in your lower stomach.
You begin to whine and whimper into his mouth, begging him to hurry before you’d be forced to stop in order to spare your life and what little dignity left you had in front of your brother, but Jaehyun continues to take his time.
“Jae-” Your rational mind tries to tell you that if he was going to keep this up, you might come, that you may lose all your self-respect to the combination of his touch, your helplessness and the thrilling shame of being so close to danger. What is he going to think of me? If he knew this rough treatment, this anxious feeling of being caught, can make me climax? What would he say?
However, the low groans coming from Jaehyun as he plays with you, teasing your entrance, was begging you to forget everything. The humiliation that was increasing seeming to connect directly to the spot between your legs as you felt your pussy spasm desperately, sucking on empty air, aching for something as he slides across the moisture.
As you move your body up, desperately for his finger to enter, Jaehyun stops moving, pulling back his face so you see his eyes clearly. “Stop grinding your hips at me,” he growls, “you’re going to make me cum.”
Your pussy clenches involuntarily at his words, releasing another gush of wetness. “Isn’t that the point?” you stutter, your body deflating a little against the couch, dropping your hips which were previously moving in line with his hand.
“Not right now.”
Before your able to ask what he means, his weight is off you, immediately leaving the couch in search for something. You stay seated, dazed in confusion as he picks up the scattered paperwork on the floor placing it neatly on the coffee table.
“Grab your jacket.” He tells you.
“Why?” you ask, your mind still in a muddled mess.
“We’re going out.”
As you hear the knob of the bathroom door handle fumble, you quickly bring down your skirt, hurriedly standing up and pretending to be busy. Taeyong walks out with a towel in his hand, his eyes glancing between the two of you as he ruffles his wet hair.
“Where are you guys going?” He asks, having heard the last spoken sentence.
Jaehyun throws on his beaten leather jacket, letting it hang loosely over his frame, “You never taught her how to change a flat tire?”
“U-uh no? Was I meant to?” Taeyong asks, confused at the sudden topic.
“Well now I have to.” Your eyes dart over to Jaehyun, meeting his gaze as he signals you to follow along.
“It’s cold and dark outside” Taeyong shrugs, clearly unbothered by whatever was going through his best friend’s mind, “but whatever, suit yourself.”
Jaehyun grabs you by your wrist as you trail along. The sudden change in temperature instantly hits you as you step out the front door. He doesn't say anything but you peek around his body which leads you, waiting for him to glance back at you and say something. But he doesn't.
“Where are we going?” you ask, having to jog slightly to keep up with his strides.
“To finish what we started,” he simply replies.
***
There’s no hesitation left as he unlocks the front door to his apartment - so conveniently located in the apartment building next to yours. His jacket is shrugged off before you’ve even had a chance to slip off your shoes, the front door slamming shut automatically by its weight. Your core flutters as you notice the sound of just your heavy breathing, trying to remain calm.
“Why are you acting so shy suddenly?”
You look over at him, removing your gaze from your feet to look over, gulping as you see he had also removed his shirt within the little time you had just entered, “I’m not.”
He chuckles at your confident reply, gesturing you to come over, “It’s not like this is your first time over.”
“Well it’s my first time coming over for something like this.”
“Like what?” He asks amusingly.
“You know what I mean.” You mutter, your feet dragging you closer to him so your standing just inches apart. He holds a smug expression on his face as you’re forced to look up at him to match his gaze.
“Mmmm I don't think I do,” he murmurs, bringing your hands around his neck, making you stand on your toes to reach comfortably around his height.
“Asshole,” you mumble, breaking his gaze. You stumble back a little as your hands leave his neck, realising how close you’re standing.
Jaehyun wraps an arm around your waist, keeping you steady, “Be careful.”
The pull closer towards him brings you face to face with his inked skin and your attention goes to the patterns in front of your eyes. Your eyes follow the delicate shapes and lines along his shoulder which start from around his collarbone, down to the centre of his chest where the tattoo meets to form a flower. You can’t help but imagine how he’d look if he was entirely covered, the gap between the inks being marked by you. What you’d do to suck on his skin and mark it yourself.
“You can touch them Y/N, they don’t hurt” he chuckles, watching your eyes waver.
You shut him up when the contact of your lips brush against his skin, softly sucking at the vines on his collar, then trailing your tongue towards the ink down the middle of his chest. You bring your attention back to the clear patches of skin around his collar, deciding it’d look better with some of your artistic touches.
“Fuck,” Jaehyun hisses as you teasingly graze along his flesh before biting at it softly. The hand around your waist tightens and you can feel his nails digging into your skin. His free hand slides up underneath your shirt, between your closed bodies. You nip and suck at the uninked patch, moving your head back every so often to see the dark colour forming a mark.
His hands leave their spots, deciding to remove your shirt and you help him, guiding the fabric over your head, exposing your bra, and then your naked midriff as you feel the pulse in your throat beating in a growing excitement.
"Mmm... Beautiful. Just fucking beautiful" he hums. You feel yourself blush, heat rising at his approval. It was insane to you, and without reason, but you desperately wanted to please him. "Baby, I could fuck you all night long and not get tired," He grabs at your breasts, going at them hungrily as he begins to kiss and pluck at your nipple with his lips through the sheer fabric of your bra.
“Please,” you mewl, weak from pleasure. His hands cup your breasts as he gently pushes you backwards, until your back hits a wall and he stands looming over you.
"Mmm..." he grabs your bra, pulling it up over your breasts, then attacks them with a vengeance, sucking, licking, squeezing one while he devours the other. His need and passion so intense, so overwhelming you can hardly breathe.
He lets go of your breast and his right hand goes back under your skirt, finding your soaked panties and pushing the crotch aside. He pushes his finger into you and you cry out, arching up against the wall as you try and support your weight. Your legs spreading eagerly as the sloppy sound of his fingers filled the room.
"Please," you whisper, "Please..." He fingers you till you feel yourself start to bear down the looming orgasm and then he stops suddenly.
You watch as his hand flies to his zipper, your breath hitching as you gaze at the bulge straining against the thin material of his jeans. He catches your gaze and decides to move slower. He moves with excruciating ministrations, his fingers gliding over the waistband as he undoes the first button before sliding the zipper down. Through lust hazed eyes you watch as Jaehyun strokes his cock, covered by the thin material of his boxers, the fabric stretched for release. Eventually, he kicks of his jeans, the more apparent tent now restrained only by a single layer.
“Eyes up princess,” He smirks, watching your eyes flicker back up to him. You reach down desperately, wanting to touch him. Jaehyun grabs your arm, pulling you back as he finally removes the last layer, letting his cock spring free, hard and angry, arching up in its full arousal, erect and proud. The moment you see his entire length you let out a low moan.
“I just want to touch it,” you whine, freeing yourself from his grasp.
“You can,” he pushes your shoulders down gently and you immediately sink to the floor in eager when you realise what he’s implying. “Show me what a hot little cock-sucker you are and get me good and hard, baby. Good and hard.” He takes a handful of your hair and pulls you closer, his other hand holding his dick up like a weapon, aimed directly at your mouth.
The sticky velvet head of his dick presses against your lips and you can smell him, the scent of soap and denim and male sexual musk. You lean forward at the sight just as his heavy cock slaps against your lips and you obediently open your mouth, taking him inside.
He exhales a grunt of excitement and you feel his hands in your hair, pushing your head down impatiently as he lifts his hips and thrusts himself into you. His cock slides into your mouth and fills you: hot, thick, and pulsing with life, and you hear him groan in animal pleasure as you sink down on his thick hardness.
Your lips suddenly turning wildly sensitive as he tugs at the strands in your hair, grabbing your head and fucking his cock into your mouth, pushing the fallen strands of hair out of your face so he can see you getting fucked.
"Fuck!" he moans. "Oh fuck!"
You continue sucking, slobbering, pushing your head onto him and pumping, pausing only to slurp up the streams of saliva that poured from your mouth and down his shaft. You can hear your own guttural moans and sounds of obsequious sucking, and when your neck starts to ache and your lips grow tired, you just hold your head and mouth still, letting him use you, letting him thrust his angry cock into your throat and making you choke and gag.
"You're going to make me cum, baby!" he moans.
As the words leave his lips, you suck harder, jaw no longer slack, wanting him to cum in your mouth. But he wasn't ready to give it to you yet. He digs both his hands into your hair, prying you off as his cock pops out your mouth, slimed with spit and twitching with pre-orgasmic spasms. Jaehyun quickly grabs his cock, squeezing his length to stop his immanent ejaculation as you cry out in frustration.
“What are you doing?” you whine as Jaehyun leans down, wiping the substance off your lips. You were desperate for his cum in your mouth, and he was denying you.
“Not yet.” As his head rolls back, you continue to stare, watching him squeeze and clench his dick and the watery pre-cum roll down the angry purple head. You pounce on it, reaching forward to scoop it up in desperate need with a single swipe of your tongue, savouring its flavour before swallowing thickly.
“Fuck Y/N!” He yells, painfully sensitive and reacting instinctively by shielding his cock and pushing you away gently.
You barely move, your hands quickly falling to your side to keep your balance. If he wasn't going to let you have his cock, you were going to satisfy your oral need another way. You watch as his breaths become heavy, his own attempt of calming himself down. Your eyes are still glued to his cock, wrapped tightly around his hand as your gaze travels up his length, noticing his balls hanging in attetion.
Immediately, you crawl forward, ducking your head to come up from below as you lick and kiss at the hanging bottom, your wet lips running over them.
“Shit!” he moans, his hand squeezing tighter against himself as he watches you in shock. You were shocked yourself but you were more concerned about your eager need growing in the pit of your stomach. You slurp and suck gently at his cum filled balls, grabbing his cock from his hand as he lets go. “You’re such a bad girl.”
But as you begin to pump up his shaft, Jaehyun pulls you up by your upper arms, lifting you off the floor and picking you up into his chest. For a moment your mind goes blank, suddenly forgetting where you are.
It’s not until you feel the soft fabric of the bed sheets under your skin that you realise you’re in a different room. The dim light shining through his open bedroom curtains on your left and the reflection of your body in the mirror on your right.
Your arms climb to your chest, covering yourself in instinct as you notice him staring. “What is it?” you whisper.
“Why are you hiding them?” he asks, crawling up to your face, his hands at the side of your head.
“Because.”
“because what?” he asks, his breath reaching your lips.
“Because I want to,” you sass back. You can feel his body leaning against your crossed arms and you fight the urge to move.
“So much attitude,” he chuckles, attacking you with kisses. His tongue glides through your lips, meeting yours and his hands find your shoulder, pushing down lightly to keep you still beneath him. Your palms go to his back as his chest meets yours, bringing his body down closer to you in the midst of your kiss.
Jaehyun’s tongue is questing and inquisitive; learning the corners of your mouth with practiced flair, drawing sensual noises from you. Sounds you didn't know were capable of leaving you. Tentatively, you reach your arm up around the solid anchor of his arm and your rewarded with a deep growl of pleasure from your partner.
All you had now was need, this basic elemental need, and you wanted him to take you and do things to you. You wanted him to take everything you had to give, because nothing seemed of any value unless he wanted it. Jaehyun notices your change quickly as you fight back for power, your hands gliding to his chest, pushing him. You flip him over, rising onto your knees so you’re now straddling his lap. He makes no effort to stop your strength but continues to pull you close with his lips, waiting for whatever you wanted to do next.
But you pull away from him, the constant thought that plagued your mind being asked, “What happens after this?”
“What do you mean?” he asks, confused.
You sit up properly, his hands resting at your hips to keep you steady. You hesitate before responding, deciding between your words, “Is this just for fun?”
There’s a moment of silence, his eyes showing the gentler side of his emotions, “Do you want it to be?”
You pause for a second, weighing your options. Of course you wanted it to be more, you had fallen for Jaehyun the moment you saw him, but you were sure he only saw you as his best friend’s younger sister, “No.”
Jaehyun smiles at you, bringing your fallen strands of hair behind your ear, “Then let’s work something out.”
You feel his body shift and your suddenly thrown to your side, landing softly on the bed with a thud. In the dark room, you can hear him shuffling before his hand reaches for your skirt, tugging them down in a swift movement along with your underwear. You let out a squeal in surprise but he ignores it.
He walks over to the side of his bed, patting his lap as you crawl over to his side. He guides you over, placing you over his knee, your bottom naked under his hand as you shiver in anticipation.
“I think you know what’s about to happen baby,” he murmurs, stroking the back of your thighs. You let out a choked mumble, your ass clenching as you wait for the sound. “Didn't I tell you no before? I told you not to keep throat fucking my cock but you continued,” he hums, “and do you know what happens to those who don't listen?”
“What?” you squeak
“They get punished.” He squeezes your ass gently, watching it fill his palm, “Here’s how this works, red for stop, yellow for slow down and green for I’m okay.” He pauses, waiting for your response, “did you hear me princess?”
“Y-yes,” you stutter out, heart beating rapidly as you laid vulnerably over his knee.
His gaze darkens, as you respond, his voice coming out almost two octaves lower, “Repeat it Y/N.”
“Red stop, yellow for slow and green for okay,” you automatically reply.
“If anything’s uncomfortable tell me okay?” Jaehyun coaxes with a gentle whisper.
He draws his hand back and you close your eyes for what’s coming. The slap of his hand on your ass amazingly loud in the room, the sharp sting and burn immediately felt. You yelp at the contact, clenching your ass for the next slap to come.
“Count them for me baby.” He purrs, pausing for you to answer.
You let out a shaky breath, “One.”
Another slap comes. You draw in a breath, mumbling out the tally “Two.”
“Count them properly or we start again baby,” he warns.
And another, “Three.”
“Four.” The heat starts to sink into your pussy, radiating through your body.
“F-ive.”
“Maybe you should have listened to me?” he hums in response – another harsh spank following his words.
“Six.” you whine out, crying in pain. As each slap continues, the arrogance you had from earlier drifts further away, the sting of his slaps sinking into your pussy and causing your muscles to clench and clit to throb.
“Your ass fits so perfectly around my hand.” He praises, rubbing the skin delicately after the seventh spank. He shuffles back against the bed, sliding you over with him.
He grabs you by the arms again, lifting you up easily over him and lowering you down between his parted legs. You stare at his stiff cock so close to your entrance and your eyes widen as you watch him move.
“Time to do some work princess,” he orders, hands tightening around your waist.
“You want me to ride you?” You ask, unable to hide the hint of power you could feel rising in your chest.
“Don’t take that fucking attitude with me,” he warns, his hands digging in the side of your skin, “Or we’ll continue our counting.”
You didn't fight him, desperate for something to fill you below. Jaehyun had handled you so easily, like a doll, lifting you up and holding you by the arms, kissing you, nuzzling his face into your breasts as you arranged yourself around him. At the slight contact your pussy makes with the velvety head of his cock, you moan, wiggling your hips back and forth to work the head of his cock between your folds.
He holds you up, not letting you sink down any closer until you groan in frustration.
“Jae just let me!” you scream, frustrated as you claw at his hands holding your body up.
He chuckles in response, beginning to lower you and you feel yourself stretch and spread around his invading length. Then, he lets go of your arms, gripping onto your ass instead as you whimper out in pain from the soreness of before. But that was the least on your mind, finally feeling in charge of fucking him and taking him inside. Every movement of your hips has you taking his cock deep into your pussy and Jaehyun grunts in delight, his hands pulling your body deeper around him.
“Fuck such a tight little princess.” He groans. His cock is huge, and hard, and it split you painfully, but the pain was just what you wanted, the perfect price for the pleasure you desired. He pulls your body towards him, his hands bringing you to his lips around your neck. Jaehyun took advantage of your busy mind, slowing the kiss down, drawing the moment out until you were leaning heavily against him, dizzy.
Your pussy was melting, your juices running down his shaft in an obscene display of need but you were loving it, the wicked sense of control you now had, doling out his pleasure as he moans and gasps simultaneously as you sink down on his cock.
However, when you’re only still half-ready, he begins to thrust up impatiently into you, burying his cock into your hilt and you break your kiss to sob. He was filling you, packing you with his length as you gasp, leaning your forehead against his, feeling so totally fucked and consumed by him.
"Sit up” he growls, " I want to see my cock going into you."
You groan at the dirtiness of his words but obey, pulling yourself up as you watch his eyes flick down to where you see yourself stretch in a tight ring around him.
“So perfectly made for me,” he grunts as you slide down. Jaehyun brings your breasts in his hands, finding your nipples and rolling them between his fingers slowly, pinching and increasing the pressure till you gasp, your pussy spasming around him involuntarily. Your vaginal muscles clench from the immense size, making its long journey in and out of his now conquered territory. “Keep going princess, show me how much you want me,” he growls.
You rise up again, feeling the sweet suck of his cock leaving you, then push back down against him, filling yourself up, grinding to rub your clit against his shaft. Jaehyun moans, sighs, and grunts with pleasure as you continue in a working rhythm, starving to feel his hot release into your pussy. His fingers still tugging at your nipples, bounced in his hands as he bounced on him. But your body grows exhausted soon after your first climax, unable to keep up the same pace as before.
“Fuck I c-cant,” your voice trails off, your thighs weakening as your legs were giving out in support.
Jaehyun doesn't miss his cue, his hand reaching for your ass and the other for your neck as he flips you over, you’re back hitting the sheets with a soft thud in the midst of everything.
“I got you baby.” He whispers, his cock still buried in your pussy as he nudges between your legs. He doesn't move, waiting for you to regain your breath as he gently holds your legs against the sheets, helping you calm down the tremoring of your muscles. “What colour?” he murmurs, pressing a gentle kiss on your forehead.
“Greenish-yellow,” you mumble, “just give me a second.” Jaehyun hums in response, waiting patiently for your response as he holds still inside of you. He nuzzles against your hair. You take a few more moments, breathing deeply before you’re ready, “green.”
He takes no time in returning back to his movements. He pushes your knees up to your shoulders, fucking you hard, deep and with brutal passion. You grip onto the surrounding bed sheets, his full length of his cock sliding in and out of you faster and harder than you could’ve achieved by riding him.
Jaehyun buries his face into the arch of your throat, peppering kisses into your flesh as you gasp out for air with every thrust. His lips trail along the side of your collar before wrapping around the skin, lightly suckling at it. He tugs at the thin skin between his teeth and you feel the slight pang of pain as he bites down softly. Nevertheless, he continues – sucking and biting as many hickeys he can into your skin, gripping onto your opposite shoulder and tilting your head for further access to your neck.
“Your mine now, all mine,” he murmurs against your skin, “whose are you princess?”
“Yours,” you squeak, voice coming out at a higher pitch than usual.
You can feel the building tension, feeling his cock knocking against your hilt as you move, your stomach bulging with his length. You grasp at him, trying to reach for his bicep which holds your knees up, wanting to tell him you were close, but you couldn't move, couldn't say anything. You can only lie there with your mouth agape, eyes shut as he continues to dive in.
“Fuck I’m going to cum.” He groans. But you were already drowning in your own torrent of orgasm, crushed by the relentless fucking and his deep grunts. You feel his cock throb intensely inside you before it begins to spit hot waves of cum into you.
He continues to fuck you as you come, your pussy milking his cock as he shoots into you again and again, his face now buried against your breasts. He was still thrusting as you come down from your high, his member deflating but still insisting in sliding in and out on the slippery bed of your mixed juices. Slowly, you float back into reality, your body still uncontrollably spasms as the thick cloud of ecstasy still clouds your mind.
“Jae n-no more,” you whimper, feeling him retreat from your sensitive walls as the overstimulated pain and displeasure kick in. Jaehyun listens immediately, moving his weight from you so his hovering over your sweaty figure, your hair sticking to your forehead.
“No more baby,” he tells you, his hand skimming over your waist and then to your belly. He pushes down lightly and you feel a rush of cum leak out and trail down to your ass. He climbs off, panting still as he rolls over beside you, bringing in your exhausted figure to his chest. Your clammy skin and his comforting presence washes over you as he runs his large hands over your back soothingly, whispering loving words.
The ringtone of a phone from the bedroom floor snaps Jaehyun out of his trance, and when he tries to move you cling onto his arm. “Don’t go,” you whine.
“I’m just going to answer the phone,” he coos, “I’m not leaving.” He places a soft kiss on your forehead before climbing off the bed to search for the source of noise in the pile of your thrown off clothes.
The ringing finally stops and you watch as you make out the outline of Jaehyun’s shadow placing the phone against his ear.
“Hello?” Jaehyun doesn't say anything else for a while, just listening to the person on the other side of the call while he runs a hand through his hair. You throw your head back against the pillow and sink further into the scented bed sheets when you realise who the caller is, letting out a muffled groan. “We’re coming back now.”
_____
Feedback always welcome!
#nct smut#nct imagines#jaehyun smut#nct jaehyun#NCT-WRITERS#nct127 jaehyun#jaehyun x reader#nct#kpop smut#smut#nct scenarios#nct fanfics#jung jaehyun#nct127#jaehyun imagines#nct x reader
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тоска, Tanaka x Reader, 18+
Written for The Smut Pile Server Collab: Mafia AU | MASTERLIST HERE.
тоска
tus-ka: Russian, noun
It is a dull ache of the soul, a sick pining, a vague restlessness, mental throes, yearning. In particular cases, it may be the desire for somebody or something specific, nostalgia, lovesickness.
Russian Mafia AU: Tanaka Ryu x A Reader OC
Rating: E for explicit
Warnings: Violence, Blood, Death, Oral sex, Public Sex, Grinding, Cheating, Denied Orgasm, Manipulation, YEARNING
Word count: 11,752
Part 1 | Part 2
GLOSSARY
This is my baby. I have spent so much time writing this. I won’t give too big of an intro. Please enjoy.
Special thanks to: @joyousandverywarlike for being my ride-or-die beta, @pleasantanathema , @present-mel and @linestrider for hosting this collab, and everyone in the server for being amazing friends. I would not have been able to write this without any of you, and I truly mean that.
1.2
Part 1 - Valentina
The room is all rich browns and leather, an oiled hardwood floor, mahogany furniture and taxidermied bears. Against the wall, watching over everything with a bored expression is Daichi "The Bulldog" Sawamurov, Mafia Boss of the Bashkortoskaya. His brown eyes inspect his nails as another grunt echoes in the room. Beside him, you, Valentina Sawamurova, stand tall, a well-manicured hand hooked onto his bicep. In a neat line with arms clasped behind their backs stand six bratji, 'brothers', the hitmen of the Security team. They all watch as a shaved-haired man beats the shit out of a pariah.
Tanaka "Khazak" Ryunoslav wipes his tattooed knuckles, alternating X and O’s, onto a white handkerchief pulled from his neatly pressed slacks, staining the fabric red with blood. It is not his. In a simple chair at the centre of the room, a man -no, he doesn't deserve to be called a man- a boy slumps forward. His head hangs low as blood seeps from his brow, nose, mouth. A tooth lays in his drenched lap. Shivers run down Tanaka's spine as he takes in the defeated form of one of his boyevika.
"Huh? Nothing to say for yourself, predatel?" he questions, bruised knuckles tugging the fallen head of his ex-comrade up to peer into their eyes, almost swollen shut.
"I did not betray the Bratva, I swear on my babu-"
"You only swear on God and the Pakhan, traitor." Tanaka interrupts, releasing his grip so that the boy’s head falls back down in a large swing before lifting up with a painful groan. The Bulldog sighs, checks the time on a glinting gold Rolex. Your fingers slip from the bulging bicep to cross in front of your chest. He nods to you, keep watching, and you smile back, wide, catty, red lipstick violent against white teeth.
"Tanaka, enough. Finish him and dispose of the body. I am tired of his crying. Like a baby. Ha!"
"Da, Boss."
"Make sure his friends are sent a message, also."
"Of course."
Tanaka doesn't take his eyes off the trembling informant but acknowledges the Boss's departure with a casual wave. Most people wouldn't have the audacity to be so lax to the Head, but he isn't just anyone. He's the most trusted. More than you.
"Nyet, nyet, nyet, nyet!" the rat cries, blood dripping from the corner of his mouth and splashing onto the floor as he struggles against the bonds. Filthy. Fuck, how Tanaka loves it. He holds his hand out and a more competent, loyal, brat hands him a gun. His fingers curl around the weighted metal of the handle with a sigh, cocking it, and without hesitation, pulls the trigger.
.
.
.
There are only a few seconds of silence after the bang, just enough for Tanaka to relish in the feeling of complete calm after the storm. The hole between the eyes spits blood onto his crisp white shirt, before the lifeless body is untied by his boyevika in the room and dragged out to be 'made an example of'. One by one, the men clean up. A mop, bleach, breaking down the chair for firewood later. No loose ends, including The Khazak's shirt as he unbuttons it to be burnt with the chair. All the while, you watch from the sidelines, against the wall, as the wife of the Boss should.
Your toes tap rhythmically against the floor, the clackclackclack of your stilettoes a steady beat for the men to work to, but your eyes are on Tanaka's back. So muscular, so supple, still shivering from the endorphins of taking a life. The twin pistols tattooed on either shoulder blade seem armed, willing to fire again.
You watch as he drops down fluidly with crossed legs to sit on the floor in the very spot he killed the predatel with no remorse, taking deep lungfuls of air to relish in the feeling. He can feel your eyes on him, a smile threatening to spread across his lips as he turns his head over his shoulder to peer at your scrutinising gaze -which is very careful not to let your lust show. But he knows it's there. He can taste it on his heavy tongue.
One by one, the men walk from the room, leaving only the two of you in your husband's office. The oak door shuts.
"Tell me, Gadyuka, how was I?" Tanaka enquires, eyes closed and head straight so that you can see the back of his scalp move as he speaks. The shorn hair shimmies and waves with his words, washing over you in the vast expanse of the room. Your pseudonym, 'viper', poison in your veins.
"Same as always: bloody," you hum, pushing off the wall and walking in front of him to lean against the broad desk. "You enjoy making a mess, don't you, Ryu?" you use your nickname for him, not his name, or his pseudonym, but something more intimate. He barks out a laugh, chest shaking as he examines the backs of his knuckles with gleaming eyes.
"Blyat, you know damn well that I do."
Like a gunshot has just echoed once again, the silence in the room is deafening. Your gazes lock, his ocean-grey ones with your cat-like stare. From his position on the floor, he looks up at you. Your stocking-clad legs are inviting his hands to stroke up them, and he's lucky enough to see the hint of the garter strap under your short skirt. He licks his lips. You tap the desk behind you impatiently, nails clacking against the glossy hardwood.
"My husband is going away on business in a week."
"I know, I arranged security."
"You're not going with him?" you ask, eyebrow quirking, no longer tapping the table. Tanaka shakes his head, a coy smile pulling at the corner of his lips, dried blood cracking on his sharp jaw.
"Then where will you be, Khazak?"
The grin almost splits his face in half with his reply, "in your bed, Gadyuka."
His bluntness never fails to shock you, to send heat pooling between your thighs and your heart spasming beneath your ribs. You almost want to have him right there, on top of the ledgers and documents of the many businesses Daichi is in charge of. Tanaka places his strong hands on the floor, easily dragging his body to your feet where he sits once more, staring up with eyes cloudy like the spray of a hurricane. A palm wraps behind your right leg to pull it close to his lips, kissing the lycra, the apex of your kneecap. His touch ripples through your skin so that your chin tilts up, breaking the gravity of his eye contact.
"Careful, Ryunoslav, not here."
His teeth nip at the fabric.
"I can not wait a week to taste you, Val."
"The cameras-"
"Are off because of the interrogation. Only I have the code to enable them for this room."
Calloused palms drag up the backs of your thighs, the stocking tugging slightly as it catches, until they pass the band where they wrap around your thighs, secured with a garter. You almost beg him to feel higher, to grab the fold of your ass, instead, you bite your lip between your teeth in thought.
"Then we must be quick, get under the desk."
You don't tell him how unusual it would be if you were found to sit in your husband's chair, but with lust swimming from your thighs to drown your mind, it's not important.
Tanaka is always rowdier after a kill, high off adrenaline, energy flowing in his veins that wants to devour everything in its path. He prefers to devour you. To savour your taste with his head between your supple thighs, to feel you come undone around his quick-witted tongue. With you balancing so precariously on the edge of the leather office chair, he can barely contain his onslaught of touch, desperate to hear you moan in the sound-proofed room. He's tucked so tightly between your knees, his broad yet lean shoulders spreading you so that he sees the dampened lace beneath your skirt.
It never takes much to arouse you. He likes to think it's only him that can pull forth your wetness from your folds like the moon coaxing the tides. He doesn't waste time, doesn't stop to watch the string of slick connecting the fabric to your cunt as his thumbs pull it to the side. He licks a long stripe up your slit and moans into the taste like a man starved. It's times like these when you wish he had hair for you to grab on to, so you settle on gripping the edge of the mahogany desk until your knuckles pale and forearms burn.
His tongue dances between your folds, lapping up each new wave of wetness that touches the shore of the muscle, only nudging the bundle of nerves at the top with a slight jostle.
"Don't tease me, Ryu, not in here," you breathe out at him between his licks, to which he chuckles, head turning to muffle the laughter against your inner thigh.
"Prosti," he apologises, the grey in his eyes glimmering with childish glee, "I can't help it sometimes."
But he doesn't give you a chance to reply before his lips attach once more to your throbbing skin, wrapping around your swollen clit to suck greedily. Finally, he hears you moan, the sound kissing his sensitive ears like cool ocean spray. It's not loud, more constricted, but it's for him, because of him.
You feel how he sucks you into him, swallowing your heat and lust and desire with his mouth, having it all flow back into your body to stir at the whirlpool between your legs and behind your eyelids. It's torrential, dizzying, you're dragged beneath the waves, chest heaving as if you're drowning,
but then it stops
and the sea dies down, leaving your battered body behind.
Tanaka pulls away, silently. His palms close your legs, knees knocking together, his thumbs teasing circles against the bone. You're aching from your denied orgasm, the pained moan in your throat cutting off as a knock sounds in the room.
"Come in," you clear your throat, repeating the command.
One of Daichi's body guard's strides into the room, a look of shock on his face at your seat before he masks it quickly. His long brown hair is tied up neatly into a bun, a slight stubble on his chin tells you he hasn't slept properly in a few days. You can feel the heat radiating from your cheeks, feel the static in your hair that you smooth down. Tanaka keeps tracing shapes into your thighs, keeping the fire in your gut from extinguishing.
"Yes?" you thank Saint Mary that your voice doesn't tremble, "what is it?"
"Mrs. Sawamurova," he nods a greeting, "The Boss says he will take you out for dinner tonight and has sent me to escort you back to the main estate in preparations."
"Of course, I look forward to it."
You kick away Tanaka's hands, standing at the same time to walk around the table and follow the guard you know as Alexei Asahi from your husband's office. It means leaving The Khazak under the desk, along with a piece of your dignity.
***
Dinner is the kind with clinking glasses and soft chatter. The lighting is dim, intimate, with a soft glow that bounces off the crystal and silverware. As usual, the two of you are seated in the middle of the restaurant, the surrounding tables strategically blocking the view of you and Daichi from all the windows and doors, as well as the bodies seated in them. You can never be too careful, even if your husband owns the restaurant -or the entire town. To your left, behind Daichi and closest to the door, sits Tanaka.
"You look beautiful tonight, darling," Daichi says, taking a bite of his steak.
You do. The black silk dress lays flat against your chest, the deep v tailored perfectly. The tie behind your neck falls softly to your waist. Against your skin is a gold pendant, a coin pressed with the Sawamarov crest. Sleeveless and backless, the dress shows your beautiful viper tattoo curling down your right arm as though protecting you. It’s jaw opens near your wrist to bite anyone you may touch. You hold your glass of wine, swirling it before you sip.
"Thank you, my love. You bought me this dress for our first date."
"And that engagement ring on our second."
You swallow down your guilt, thighs clenching together, the silk fabric teasingly softly against your still-ignited skin. You give him a pointed stare, leaning forward ever so slightly to whisper over the table.
"I wouldn't call that a second date. We never left each other after the first."
Daichi laughs heartily, waves for another bottle of wine, eyes shining with the memory of the very active week in a skiing lodge. He hopes he can recreate some of it tonight, knowing he's been neglecting you, ignoring your needs. He glances down at the subtle curve of the fabric around your slight breast, the hint of the peony tattoo peeking under the edge of your neckline, low on your sternum; it’s the only delicate thing about you.
Daichi watches as you excuse yourself to use the restroom, the way your hips sway beneath the silk as though you have a secret. He frowns when the door closes, checking his watch for the time and pouring a shot of vodka to swallow down. You do have a secret. The waiter takes away the plates, bringing a simple dessert to share with the wine, and when you sit back down with a happy sigh, The Bulldog tries to sniff it out. He taps the table with two fingers and the nearest bodyguards turn slightly away to give you both privacy.
“I was told you were seated at my desk.”
A bite of mousse passes between your red lips with a small smile, eyes penetrating his gaze and not faltering.
“Can a wife not sit in her husband’s chair?”
“Nyet, you know this. Why?”
“Calm down, my love.”
He fixes his cuff links, leaning back in his chair so that the gold chain around his neck glints in the light. His strong brow shadows his darkening eyes, lips pressing into a thin line, and, true to his nickname, it seems as though his muscles inflate. It makes you melt to see him hard, pectorals and biceps wanting to burst through the fabric of his Armani shirt. The spoon clinks against the plate and you reach across the table, viper stretching to grab his hand and bring it to your lips with a soft kiss, red lipstick on his jewelled knuckles. As much as you want to flicker your gaze to the man behind your husband, you hold firm.
“It’s embarrassing, but I’ll tell you. Come closer so I can whisper,” you usher him in, and Daichi grunts but follows your suggestion. He has no reason to doubt you, yet his gut is telling him you were doing more than just resting your heeled feet. He watches your pink tongue lick your bottom lip, teeth cracking between them with a coy smile.
“As you know, it has been quite some time since we’ve, how should I put this, made love.”
“I know.”
“Had I known we were going to dine tonight, fuck tonight, I would not have.”
“Your point, Gadyuka.”
Your whisper turns into a low hum, right hand squeezing his and your left hand toying with the coin pendant around your neck. Butterflies swirl in your gut, but you kill them swiftly with venom. He can sniff out any insecurity.
“I was masturbating.”
“What?”
“I was masturbating. Touching myself. In your chair, by your desk, thinking of you. I was almost finished but then Alexei had knocked on the door and stopped it.”
The look on Daichi’s face can only be described as speechless, which he is not often. His mouth opens, eyes stormy as he pictures your flushed face. He remembers that glassy look your eyes adopt when you're close, far away in bliss. Your delicate palm touches his clean-shaven cheek, drawing his attention back to the restaurant, to you.
“How about we go home and finish what I started, huh?”
Daichi didn’t need to be told twice. Standing fluidly, everyone around him follows his movement. Your fur coat is draped over your shoulders, thick and warm, a crisp white. His hand is on the small of your back, leading you out of the restaurant with the haste of a man collecting a prize. The air is cold, snow shovelled aside as you climb into the car to feel heated lips pressing to your neck instantly. You laugh, locking your wrists behind his neck to capture his mouth with your own. Men are so easily convinced.
Part 2 - Tanaka
The frame rattles as Tanaka slams the door closed behind him. He tracks melting sludge onto the thin, rust-coloured welcome mat, the tip of his nose red with more than the kiss from the windchill. The heater of the cabin is turned on, the warmth a welcome refuge from the thick snow outside as he shrugs off his coat.
Tanaka doesn’t hide his thoughts and feelings. He’s the kind of guy that wears them on his sleeve, bares it all out there for everyone to see. When he’s angry, you can see the tips of his ears burn. When he’s thrilled, that shark-tooth grin spreads so wide across his face, his eyes close. And when he’s murderous, nothing and no one can stand in his way.
“Cyka blyat!” he shouts, punching the wall of his residence, missing the mirror by mere centimetres, his already bruised knuckles stinging with his rage. A slew of curse words tumbles from his lips, both from searing pain and soaring anger. The eyes on the back of his hands stare at him, judging.
Seeing Valentina out at dinner, looking so delectable, so sinful, Ryunoslav felt ravenous for just a taste of her skin. It was bad enough that he never got to feel her convulse on his tongue earlier, he had to watch her flirt with her husband. He knows the deal, that nothing can ever really happen between the two of them outside of sex, and if they were both to get caught, it would be his end. He understands, yet he can’t help his rising natural anger. The buzzing in his pants pocket pulls him from his internal struggle, and he relaxes his hands, feeling the half-moon indents in his palms hiss in relief.
“Da?" a pause, "I’m on my way.”
Daichi wants to see him; did they finish their ‘love-making’ so quickly? Tanaka catches his reflection in the mirror, massaging the centre of his furrowed brows to try dissipate some of his frustrations before grabbing his thick coat and making the five-minute trek to the main estate. He’s frozen to the bone by the time he arrives at the large mahogany doors, but his anger keeps his blood warm. He needs to be careful, to calm down.
***
The Boss is waiting for Tanaka in his oversized office, the door open ajar, letting a soft yellow light stream into the hallway. This one is different from where the interrogation took place that afternoon, yet it is decorated almost identically. A shiver runs down Ryunoslav’s neck as he remembers Valentina’s sumptuous taste, the supple skin of her thighs brushing against his jaw and the way her lips sighed his name. Fuck, he takes a deep breath, pacifying his licentious thoughts before rapping on the door with his knuckles. Daichi’s deep voice tells him to enter.
He sits there, behind the desk, the white shirt he wore to dinner wrinkled, half unbuttoned to show a burly chest. A gold chain with a coin and two wedding bands glints from the curled chest hair.
“Vodka?” Daichi asks, doe brown eyes glancing up, already pouring both him and his head of security a shot of the clear liquid.
“Spasiba,” Tanaka’s voice is a grumble, deep in his chest as he tries to warm his body but cool his temper.
The Bulldog leans back. They toast, downing the drink with a casual swallow. As per usual, Tanaka automatically refills the next round for the both of them, but it remains untouched. Instead, Daichi opens a ledger, fingers curling up the pages as he flips through the numbers and accounts.
“Sergei has told me we were underpaid last month.”
“Mm, I will talk with Yuuri to find out who.”
“Make sure you show them the repercussions.”
“Always.”
Tanaka cracks his knuckles, excited to teach yet another lesson in punctuality. Daichi eyes his most trusted brother, the way that cocky smirk appears at the thought of fists colliding with skin, but there’s something else underneath.
“Khazak, you’re angry,” Daichi concludes, reaching across the table for the vodka, motioning Ryunoslav to sit down across from him. The shorn-haired man shrugs, slinking into the leather seat, removing his black beenie to run his hand through the trimmed hair. He can’t lie to the Boss, but he can’t tell him the truth either.
“I am… frustrated.”
The pair cheers, the glasses clinking before thudding onto the leather ingrained into the top of the desk.
“Why?”
"Ha! Please, I do not know, Boss.”
Daichi lets out a hum, shifting forward in his chair so that the wheels creak beneath his weight.
“I think I know.”
Tanaka stays silent, keeping his stare level and curious with the Bulldog’s.
“You need a woman!” Daichi barks out, smacking the desk with a flat palm, laughing deeply so that it echoes in the quiet room and probably through the manor. Tanaka can’t help but join in with the infectious laughter, the vodka soothing his nerves, relaxing the tension in his jaw.
“You’re right. It’s been too long,” since I fucked your wife.
They pour another shot, the buzz of the first two beginning to hum pleasantly through their bodies.
“Next week I go to Georgia to see the business there. While I’m gone, bring a whore to your bed. You have my permission.”
“Thank you, Boss.” Tanaka says, his cock twitching at the thought of Valentina in his residence. She’s never been there longer than a few minutes, and never without Daichi in the ten years Ryunoslav has been working for the Sawamurov family, and the two he’s been fucking her. He can't help but fantasize about it.
They catch up in light-hearted talk, about the state of Russia and the business, that they don’t see her peer around the corner of the heavy door, black silk nightgown wrapped loosely around her frame to show the lace of lingerie beneath.
“Daichi, are you coming to bed?” Tanaka hears her say, Valentina’s voice caressing his sensitive ears, but it’s not for him. He turns around, both men shocked into sobriety when they see her leaning against the now open door.
“Ah yes! Sorry, my love! We lost track of time.” Daichi says, pushing up from his seat. Tanaka swallows, watches as her gaze floats from her husband’s to his own. He can see the pale blue of new bruises around the column of her throat, where Daichi probably sucked into the skin. Tanaka can’t help his smirk. She always did like it rough, and it means he can leave his own over those later.
“Khazak,” she greets with a curt nod, fixing the dropped shoulder of the gown to make herself more modest. “Don’t keep him too late, okay?”
“Mrs. Sawamurova, as you wish.”
Daichi chuckles from behind the desk, walking around to clap Tanaka on the shoulder.
“I may be the Pakhan, but Gadyuka here always has the last say, huh? Good night, Ryunoslav. Don’t forget to talk to Yuuri. And don’t forget what I said you can do.”
“Da, spakoyne noche, Boss.”
With a two-finger wave, Daichi walks out of the room, his hand travelling to the small of Valentina’s back as he leads her back to the bedroom. Tanaka takes one final shot, pulling his hat low over his ears as he prepares to walk back to his house.
***
“He said what?” Nishinoya Yuuri exclaims, cackling inside Tanaka’s small living room. His shorter counterpart smacks the armrest of the chair, the sound against the leather cracking like a whip.
“I can entertain a whore this weekend.”
Yuuri can’t believe his ears, face red with laughter, the file of the business owner coming up with short change forgotten on his lap. His bleached bangs hang in his eyes and he pushes it up, wiping tears with a deep breath.
Together, Ryunoslav and Yuuri make up the Elite Group within the Bashkortoskaya, Daichi’s most trusted men. Each one runs their own Brigade: Nishinoya the Support Group and, by default, oversees the entire Workforce, while Tanaka is head of Security and keeps everything running smoothly.
The Khazak’s sharp jaw pulses, cheeks red to resemble a heart as it beats in humility. He clenches and unclenches his jaw.
“In the years I’ve known you, you’ve never had a prostitute.”
"I've never needed one," Tanaka shrugs, stealing the manila folder to flip through the details. Simple enough. His men were already bringing the tinted black SUVs around for them to make a ‘house call’ to Ukai Keishin. He shrugs on his thick coat, the kind that’s easy to clean, and black leather gloves onto his hands, slipping knuckle dusters into his pocket. Just in case. He doubts he’ll need them. He waves Yuuri a goodbye as he hears the tyres crunch over the sleet of snow.
“Remember to pick up condoms while you’re out!” He hears his brother call out to him as the door closes and ice invades each inhale.
Tanaka grumbles under his breath, fiddling with the direction of the hot air coming through the car’s vents. Just what he needs is word getting around that he would be fucking someone while the Boss is gone. These kinds of things never stay quiet, and he knows it will reach Valentina’s ears within the day. He shivers to think how she will lash out at him if he actually invites one of Daichi’s prostitutes back to his bed. The girls at those establishments can’t even hold a candle to her beauty or skill.
Prostitution is a lucrative business and one of the main sources of income, other than drug smuggling and the many (legal and illegal) casinos and tech companies owned by the Sawamurov’s. Ukai's particular business—and why The Boss is so invested in it—is a front for a prostitution call-centre. According to performance, they should've made a profit for the month past. Usually, Tanaka wouldn't make an appearance personally, delegating the task to his experienced team members, who might even give the order to the security brigades that they run. However, he is glad to get out of the estate grounds and think of something other than Val’s voluptuous lips and the swell of her breasts from beneath that black lingerie last night.
***
The Sawamurov's reach controlled all of Bashkortostan, a republic within Russia nestled between the picturesque Ural mountain range and the Volga river. Tanaka watches as the trees surrounding the estate give way to highway and grassland before the small town of Belebey comes into view. It's all Daichi's, and in turn, all Val’s.
The town is quiet, the late morning sky a dark grey with clouds that make the winter more formidable. Tanaka wouldn't have it any other way. They pull up to the slightly rundown storefront, graffiti against the wall with crude swear words act as a greeting. He snorts, watching as the glossy black SUV's reflect in the windows as though looking into a parallel world. Inside he can see movement, a tall man in a white apron walking around the counter to open the door. Confident.
"To what do I owe the pleasure?" Ukai shouts out, arms crossed over his chest to protect his fingers from the stinging cold. Tanaka doesn't answer, tucking his chin into his scarf as he observes the man. He's older, bleached blonde with honey eyes that seem more solid, hardened. On his forearms are scars, his flannel shirt sleeves rolled up to reveal a tattoo of a web with a downwards facing spider: recovered drug addict.
"We've come to collect," one of the lackeys says in his boss's place.
Ukai steps aside to let them in, sighing deeply, flicking a cigarette to the moist ground, and leading them to a back room where there's a round table with a few wooden chairs. Papers litter the room, boxes of unpacked stock are piled in a corner. The place is a shithole.
"Can I get you anything? Vodka, cigarette?"
"Sit, Ukai." Tanaka speaks, gesturing to the nearest chair, unbuttoning his coat to drop it onto the table, his beanie and scarf piling on top of it. "We're here for business."
Ukai collapses down, slouching casually as he stares at the leader of the men. Ryunoslav drags a chair in front of the debtor, spinning it on a single leg so that he leans against the backrest as he sits with his legs spread out on either side. A sliver of gold chain catches the fluorescent lighting under his simple suit shirt, matching the multiple piercings in Ukai's right ear.
"You did not pay the full amount of February."
"Correct."
"Why?"
"I couldn't."
The man's blunt lie is shocking to Tanaka, refreshing from the usual quivering imbeciles, and he feels the need to suppress a smile that threatens to reveal itself. Instead, he keeps his tone cynical.
"Was the month not profitable, Ukai? Men get lonely in February, their beds cold."
Ukai shrugs, smoothing out the wrinkles in his apron, eyeing the handsome shaved hair man with intrigue. Tanaka feels a ripple down his spine. "For the whores? Yes, it was profitable. But my business was not."
"So you used the money for the Bashkortoskaya to save your ass from bills?" Tanaka begins to laugh, his wide mouth swallowing the sky as his chin tilts up. He stares straight at the man once more, "you should've paid us first."
"Ah, but then I wouldn't have had the pleasure of your visit. I am touched an Avtoritet will come to see me personally. You are better looking than I thought you would be, younger."
Tanaka raises an eyebrow at the flirtatious comment, a very open individual. He sees some of his subordinates shift uncomfortably in his peripheral, unsure of how to proceed. He drums his fingers on the back of the chair, the beat steady like his heart.
"Flattery will get you nowhere, I'm not one of your kind."
"And what kind is that?"
"Gay."
Ukai chuckles, pulling a packet of cigarettes from his apron pocket, offering one to Ryunoslav who instead takes the full box, holding it up for someone to confiscate. He stands, walking to inspect the stacked boxes around the room. Ukai swallows; he knows not to push his luck too far.
"Are you going to kill me if I don't pay?"
"Hm, nyet, not yet. Are these fresh?" Tanaka holds up a dozen eggs, the green carton sickly. He doesn't wait for the reply, tearing it open and tossing one to the ground with a resounding crunch, the yolk bleeding into the tile grates.
"Listen, Ukai," splat, "you will pay the balance," splat, "by the end of this week," Tanaka walks closer with each drop of the egg until he's next to the grocery store owner. Ukai sits upright, a cool gaze on Tanaka's tattooed hands as they stroke the shell of the brown eggs. The crosses and circles are targets, his hands the weapons.
"Or your head, will look like these eggs." Tanaka drops the entire carton on the ground, the bright yellow spilling out and pooling beneath Tanaka's black boots. "Vy ponimayete?"
"Da, understood."
"Good. I hope I will not need to see you again."
On his way out of the store, Tanaka picks up a box of condoms from the aisle.
Part 3 - Valentina
Friday cannot come fast enough... so that you can throttle your lover.
The double-pane french doors to the balcony shine with frost, the sky beyond dark and unforgiving, much like the irritation boiling inside you. It’s the last night; Daichi leaves on the first flight to Georgia tomorrow morning to meet with the Vashadze, your father and owners of half the Casinos under your combined empire. Your marriage three years ago was the biggest news since the raid on the Uhaluba club in Prague, 1995. Together, your families control prositution, drug smuggling, money laundering, the list goes on. Behind the scenes, of course.
Up front, Daichi is a wealthy investor of tech: Facebook, Tesla, oil companies in the Middle East and Serbia, whereas your father is a top Politician and Minister in Georgia, maintaining his position with dirt he’s collected on those with darker tastes and kinks in the underworld.
“Supply snakes with a meal, and you’ll have them all by the fangs,” your father regularly told you over dinners since you were thirteen, when he began to show you the truth behind his wealth, once your mother passed away.
It’s how you got your nickname. It was the first thing you said to Daichi, before he took you out, before he became The Boss . You were eighteen when you laid eyes upon that hulking mass of muscle. He asked how you could be so beautiful, and you parroted your father’s words. He knew from that moment on that you were dangerous, poisonous, and he had to have you.
When you were twenty-one, you met Daichi again, this time in an underground gambling soiree. You were the host, of course. The felt green betting mats stood out in stark contrast against the white dress code and the dark wooden tables. You wore black. Translucent red dice swirled between your fingers expertly before you rolled snake eyes.
“Bad luck,” Daichi commented over your shoulder, spiced wood and tobacco tickling your nose. You sipped a vodka martini with a twist. There was always a twist with you.
“It’ll be fine, I own the club,” you shrugged, cashing out with the chips you owed and strolling back to the bar where another drink awaited you. Even now, you could remember Tanaka Ryunoslav hovering behind Daichi, drinking in the sight of your curves, the red of your lipstick and the wit of your tongue. A lot less subtle then than now.
If you closed your eyes, you could very easily conjure the tapping of his heels, the eager look in the Young Khazak’s eyes at being surrounded by some of the most powerful men in Eastern Europe. You could even taste the vodka on his tongue that you sucked down your throat in a supply room all those years ago.
Back then, that bout of casual sex meant nothing. You married Daichi four years later, when your paths crossed once more at twenty-five, the turf wars between neighbouring families becoming too much to bear for Eastern Europe. You were lucky Daichi was--is so exceedingly handsome. Interesting. Smart. Powerful. However, so is your father. And you never wanted to marry your father.
“Darling?” Daichi’s voice calls you out of your pacing when he walks into the room, the silk of your dressing gown swooping around your feet as you stand still. “Everything alright?”
“Da, sorry, you know I get nervous when you fly,” you lie quickly, easily, turning your back on him to close the curtain and shut out the irritation of outside, the faint golden glow of Tanaka’s cabin sealed away. Out of sight, out of mind.
“Mm, yes, I know. Relax a little. When I am back we have that gala. Is your dress finished?”
You give him a pointed glance, turning down the bedsheets and unravelling the delicate bow of the robe to climb under the covers with bare skin.
“Weeks ago, Daichi. You were at the final fitting.”
He nods as if he remembers, but you know his mind is elsewhere, much like your body would rather be.
“Are you coming to bed early tonight?”
For several days, weeks, months, Daichi has been sneaking into your bed too late in the evening. Or early in the morning. The business is doing fine, there’s no cause for him to spend some nights not even at home. Some part of you--a small, small part--misses his thick muscles wrapped around your body.
“Later, there is something I have to do first.”
You merely hum, settling yourself down and dimming the lamp beside the bed until the room bathes in a soft glow. With your eyes closed, you don’t see him leave, the door clicking shut. Instead, you picture red, your empty bed, and across the snow, a cocky smile letting a too thin, sallow-skinned blank face past their threshold. He will have to have a hooker, Daichi will ask him all about it. Motherfucker. You turn the light off.
***
The Bulldog kisses your forehead when he wakes, sleeping behind you for a total of an hour. You’d woken up slightly when he clambered into the bed, smelling freshly of his cologne from a recent shower, at three in the morning.
“I’ll be back soon,” he whispers into your ear, not staying to hear your ‘be safe’ in response, still mumbling from a fitful night’s sleep.
However, you don’t drift off again, eyes suddenly open and staring into your nightstand where a cool glass of water rests. It’s still, silent and calm. You turn over to the right, seeing the empty space where Daichi’s body barely left a mark, his lamp still buzzing. It isn’t until you hear cars pull away in the driveway that you sit up, wiping the remnants of sleep delicately from your eyes to sigh. It’s going to be a long day.
Dumdumdum, three quick taps echo in the quiet, the door creaking open as a curious head peeks around the side. Ryunoslav smiles when he sees you perched in bed. His eyes drift from your face, down your neck and to your breasts, the skin pricking up under his sharp gaze. You could strike a match and it would erupt into flames.
“What are you doing here, Ryu?” you ask. It comes out more accusatory than you would’ve liked but he just grins, teeth ready to bite any jab you throw.
“I told you I’d come, didn’t I?”
For a raucous man, Tanaka moves stealthily across your floor, kicking off his boots before planting two large hands onto the edge of the mattress. You can feel it dip with his weight as he crawls, veiny forearms caging in your legs, trapping you. He sways side to side, spine rolling like a panther about to pounce. You kick his left hand out so he falls, crashing and rolling to the spot where Daichi laid with a laugh, peering up at you with fervent energy.
“His bed isn’t even cold yet.”
“Ha! He barely slept here, Val.”
“And you will?” Skepticism laces your words, the irritation of last night seeping into your thoughts once more. His smile finally drops.
“Nyet, of course not. You know that.” Tanaka twists around so that he’s cross-legged, facing you fully, eyes searching your own. “I’ll just fuck you.” You scoff.
His hands plant themselves on your thighs, the eyes tattooed on the back staring at the ceiling, observing the heavens. They travel gradually up to where the sheet lays scrunched around your waist, fingers pinching the edges.
“Give you more pleasure than he does before going back to my lonely bed. Without you.”
“It doesn’t sound like you’ll be lonely for much longer, Ryunoslav.”
Tanaka chuckles under his breath, shaking his head as he pulls the duvet down to unveil you before him. His chest rises and falls so fluidly with his deep breaths, a movement so calm, yet he freezes when his eyes rake over your luscious figure.
“How the Boss does not have you under lock and key astounds me.”
Your hand slaps across his face, a fire burning from your palm down to your groin.
“I will not be someone’s pet.”
Lust overcomes Tanaka’s pupils, his lips curling up in ecstasy at your stern tone, his cheek pounding along with his heart.
“No, you will not.”
Then, his mouth captures yours.
Hot, hungry, the spring in his spine expands so that his chest presses against yours, jaws stretching up. Desperate hands clutch at your neck, the fold of your hips, anything to pull himself tight to your body, anchored to your skin and bed. It’s sinful, even whores refuse to do something so intimate. You feel that heavy tongue drag against your bottom lip, asking your permission to enter. You welcome it, savoring the taste of Ryu’s desire, his burning passion. His hands drift to tug at the firm muscle of your ass, hauling you to kneel over his lap, supporting and kneading it to a rhythm that you’ve come to know so well.
Your fingers clumsily unbutton his pants, slipping under the fabric to feel your undoing. Tanaka moans into your mouth, growing harder, fiercer in his touch with each stroke up the length of his cock. He wastes no time, patience not his strongest virtue. You detach from the kiss with a heavy sigh, forehead pressing to his as you melt over his fingers. Both your hands press into his shoulders, stabilising your vibrating body from how he rolls your clit between his fingers. He’s too clothed, not enough of his skin available for you to stroke and scratch and bite. You claw at the back of his long-sleeved shirt, he rips it off.
With the shirt discarded over his boots, Ryu’s warm hands wrap around your waist, tilting you back until you lay open for him. His pants come off next, flung haphazardly to the floor so that he kneels before you shamelessly, eyes raking down your naked body. By now, he’s committed every curve, every artwork on your skin to memory that he can draw you with his eyes closed. The peony tattoo at the base of your sternum a siren’s call for his mouth to taste. The heat of his body is a furnace, flames licking your skin as he kisses down your chest, inhaling your intoxicating scent.
“Why don’t I finish what I started, huh?” he parrots the words you whispered to Daichi a week ago. Your gut clenches, your cunt tightening to know he heard that. You almost want to beg him to devour you, but that’s not who you are. Your hand strokes over his shorn hair, his eyes closing as your nails rake against his scalp. Savagely, you squeeze his jaw, fingers pursing his lips, the viper tattooed near your wrist ready to strike.
“So snarky. I can think of more important uses for your tongue, Ryunoslav.”
He grins, the round of his cheeks tensing in your clutches before he turns his head to nibble at your thumb, sucking it down.
“As you wish, Valentina.”
Tanaka kisses down your stomach to the apex of your mound, squirming until he nestles between your outstretched legs and his arms wrap themselves under your thighs, an iron grip on your hips. You brace yourself to feel that vacuum, that eternally deep suction that clings onto your soul and merges it with his, but all you can feel are soft exhales. He stares up at you, an indiscernible look on his face.
“Ryu?” you come onto your elbows. The very sight of the man between your legs is enough to make you shiver. He plants a kiss to your thigh.
“You know I will do anything for us, for you.”
“I know.”
“Even fuck a whore once if it means I get to stay with you for just another more day.”
You grit your teeth, knowing it’s true, and although he shouldn’t be saying such intimate things—that you can never truly be together—it’s what you needed to hear. You remain silent, watching him as he lowers his mouth to your seeping skin, licking languidly to taste you on his entire tongue. It’s flat, wet, heavy, pressing into you so solidly you fall back down, eyes closing as you capsize. Tanaka demands whimpers, his name, with his touch. He’s insatiable, greedy to feel you come undone completely, this time with no interruption.
Two fingers test your waters, slipping between the waves of your folds while his tongue drags you under. You know his ocean-grey eyes never stop watching as you writhe under his ministrations. You can barely move, clenching around his skilled hand as though keeping him anchored in place. You want him, need him. The first pulse of your walls spurs him on, stirring the storm in your groin, until you can barely contain your moans for him. Your orgasm batters against the shores of your body, powerful waves washing over you and dissolving all your stress and irritation, leaving you gasping and heavy, weighted down and sluggish.
“Fuck, baby,” Tanaka swears against your skin, still pumping his fingers against sopping skin to feel how you contract around him. The stimulation almost has you in tears and you grab his wrist to pull him away, closer to your lips. You swallow down your tang, the kiss passionate yet lazy as he ruts against your tingling clit, hands wrapped around your head to almost cradle you against him.
“You were very loud,” he chides, but you know he loves it, the danger. “You are lucky no one is in the house tonight.”
“Do you want me to keep quiet, Ryu?” you moan into his mouth, biting his lip against a particularly rough thrust.
“Never,” he grins, sitting back so that he can observe your glassy look, you pout at the sudden chill. There’s a moment of protest, his body too far away, before your eyes roll back and you’re stretched out, overflowing with the feeling of him, your vision black.
Part 4 - Tanaka
Ryunoslav wishes he could lay behind Valentina eternally, watch as she wakes and stretches, but he knows he can’t. He unfurls his lithe chest from her back, and stands to dress before sneaking back to his cabin. The cold air nips at his cheeks, but it would take a snowstorm and him being naked to freeze over the warmth radiating from inside his chest. Under the cover of dark, even at 6:00 am, Tanaka makes it back without being seen, like he always does.
He winces as he shrugs off his coat and scarf, the scrapes on his back from her nails stinging beautifully. His thoughts drift: what she must think when she wakes up in the mornings to find the bed empty, either without him or Daichi, and whether he’ll ever see her under his own covers, laughing while sipping a coffee on a summer morning. Ryu shakes his head to absolve those thoughts, it’s dangerous to linger on dreams for too long.
The box of condoms on his dining table stand out like a sore thumb, and he shoves it into the closest drawer, the eyes on his hands giving him a mocking stare. ‘What would your mother say?’ it blinks at him, pulling his mouth into a scowl. Turning the kettle on, he pulls up Sergei’s number on his phone.
“Khazak, it’s early.” Sergei’s morning gruff is thick, coughing lightly as he clears his throat.
“Dobre utra, Sergei, sorry, I know.”
“What is it you need?” Tanaka can almost picture the cool gaze, the pinched brows beneath silver hair that the bookkeeper has on whenever speaking to the head of security.
“Ukai, has all been fixed?”
“Uka– Ryunoslav, could this not wait until a more reasonable hour? Yes, it’s resolved. The guy wired the remaining amount last night. God knows where he got it from but I don’t care.”
Tanaka opens his mouth to speak, but Sergei cuts him off.
“I swear, call me this early again and I’ll hang you from your ears.”
The Khazak laughs, wishing the old ‘friend’ a good day as he hangs up. That clears up most of Tanaka’s schedule, and he falls onto his bed, groaning when the whistle of the kettle rings loud in the room. It’s too similar to the alarm bells in his mind when he thinks about the call he has to make later.
***
Ryunoslav shivers, peeling off the used condom to tie a knot in it. It wasn’t too bad. With the prostitute's ass in the air, he could almost picture it was her. He watches as she pulls up stockings and a dress, her only layers beneath a thick coat and hat. The prostitute looks over her shoulder with her hand resting on the door, appreciating the view. Tanaka sits on the edge of the bed, naked and bored.
“This was fun. Call me anytime,” she purrs with a wink, pleasantly fucked, before leaving. He grumbles, falling backwards so that air whooshes past his ears as the mattress creaks under his body.
She’s going to kill me, he thinks, picturing Val’s face with the disapproving glare that always seems to rile him up. A part of him wonders if he went through with it purely to piss her off, make her mad with jealousy, just like he can be.
***
Tanaka must’ve dozed off because he wakes to the sound of his front door being pounded, the clock next to it showing quarter to midnight. He swears, scrambling to toss the condom he left on his thigh into the open basket bin and pull on the nearest pair of pants. He has just finished tying the drawstring when the door swings open and Valentina strides in, arms crossed in front of her chest, white flakes of snow on the Hermès scarf wrapped around her hair.
He’s frozen, a deer in headlights, silent at seeing her standing in his doorway, both beautiful and deadly. He watches as analytical eyes scan the single-roomed cabin, finally taking it all in. For some reason, he feels shy, a blush creeping up his neck. He has always wanted her in here, but now that she is, he feels like it’s not good enough.
Tanaka follows her gaze: sweeping from the small kitchen, to the two person table and chair, in the corner are the leather armrests and a coffee table. Directly by Val’s right is a mirror and coat hook, the wooden-heated walls sparsely decorated with a map of old USSR and new Russia, along with a single lily in a simple frame. He sees her stare past him, to the arch that separates his bedroom, analysing the unmade bed. Tendrils of cold sweep by him from the still-open door. She does not move a muscle.
Valentina opens her mouth as if to say something, then closes it, walking to the kitchen counter where a half-finished bottle of vodka sits. Tanaka’s door shuts with a click, and when he turns, she has already pulled out a shot glass.
Has she been drinking? he thinks, rubbing the goosebumps up his arms, the callouses scraping some still-healing scabs. He gets his answer when she barely winces her swallow.
“Do you want to sit down?” Tanaka asks, approaching carefully, gesturing to the sofa; she’s a cornered viper. Val turnz, leaning against the marble top, coat still wrapped tightly around her body. Her lips purse, and he stills, knowing she’s either trying to put together a sentence or hold back uttering one. But Ryunoslav doesn’t know her to hold back often.
“Did you do it?”
He didn’t expect the question to flow from her lips so calmly, hushed and smooth like an expert interrogator; the way he would speak. There’s no point in lying.
“Da,” Tanaka steps closer, reaching past Val’s head for a second shot glass. She makes no effort to hand him the bottle. “It’s just sex.”
He almost recoils from the daggers in her stare, pupils shrinking into slits that can cut through him. I should not have said that, but if he lied, he wonders if she’d be just as furious. Valentina looks down and spots the discarded condom, sighing while twisting open the cap of the bottle to drink straight from the lip, past the point of using a glass.
“I thought of you.”
A faint flicker of relief, but then she laughs, curt and cold.
“I’m so flattered, Ryunoslav, thank you.”
He feels his heart tighten, forehead pounding, with more than guilt.
“Blyat, what the fuck else was I supposed to do?” he snorts, storm brewing in his eyes, fists clenching. His face is so close to hers, he can smell the alcohol on her breath. He can see her searching for answers within his own.
“I don’t know, but,” her eyes close, the small wrinkle between her brow dissolving with an inhale. The exhale has them open, blank, her lips in a neutral line. Somehow, this scares Ryunoslav even more. He feels his heart hammer beneath his ribs, either trying to escape or to jump into her palms. The bottle is no longer in them, but the belt of her coat, pulling it loose so that it unfurls from her chest. He see’s skin, a clavicle, ripe mounds of breasts. The flower tattoo peaks out from the shadow until it disappears and the top of underwear wraps around her waist. She’s not wearing the Family pendant. When the coat drops off her shoulders--the wool scrunching into a thick pile at her feet--he notices she is still wearing boots, but legs bare; she used the underground passage to get to his cabin.
“If you prefer to fuck a shlyukha, you just had to say so.” Valentina says, fingers trailing up the skin of her waist while keeping his gaze. Tanaka can’t respond, doesn’t want to, anything he says is fuel to her wildfire. “I can be a whore.”
She’s raging, the very air around her too thick for Tanaka to breathe easily, and when she takes a step forward, he imitates backward. He’s controlled by her until he collapses into his leather armchair and she towers over him, bare-breasted and deadly.
Valentina’s fingers tug at the knot of the scarf, slipping the silk through her fingers as she regards the man before her, twisting it into a tight coil until ready to spring, like her.
It’s those eyes, she realises. Stormy, grey, like a tumultuous ocean swallowing her body whole, ravaging and cleansing her all at once. She can’t stand to see them now. Tanaka doesn’t protest when she leans over him, unfurling the scarf to tie it around his head, blindfolding him. Ostensibly for control. She knows otherwise that his eyes will make her crumble down, dissolve into their depths.
Tanaka’s heart thumps, pressing against his ribcage furiously enough to shake his chest. Any argument cut off in his throat when he feels Valentina’s lips against it. His body begins to cover in a cold sweat, confused with the hurdling emotions inside: panic, guilt, anger, and underneath it all, arousal.
“Have you even showered yet,” she whispers against his skin, “or is this taste hers?” A hot tongue drags up the side of his neck until it touches the puff of his earlobe, teeth nipping. If Tanaka looks down past the tip of his nose, he can see her palms gripping the arms of the chair, the plush leather folding in. He can see the curve of her shoulder and the tail of the snake as she leans into him. And he can feel the warmth of her skin when she straddles him.
It’s not tight, her ass seated on the edge of his knees, but he feels heat anyway. It rolls off Valentina’s body in waves, washing over him so that he begins to pant. Nails rake up his chest, goosebumps pricking on his forearms which he keeps still, away from reaching out to wrap around her and bring their bodies together.
“Did she touch you like this?” Valentina’s hand wraps around his throat, the other drifting to the tent in Tanaka’s sweatpants. When she stops moving, he realises she expects a response.
“Nyet,” he grunts out, erection twitching beneath her palm, the vein in his neck swelling.
A brisk exhale fans over his face, then he smells the peppercorn and vanilla of her skin as she lifts from his knees. She must be close, the static between his lips and her stomach electric. He bites his tongue to stop from tasting her skin. When she falls, her hand had shifted his erection from the loose constraints of his pants, free and standing to attention. There’s fire and rain, and Tanaka peers down to make out the black of Valentina’s underwear clinging to her slick folds, nestled against his groin. It provides slight relief, knowing she is aroused like him.
She begins to roll her hips. On instinct, Tanaka shifts down into a slouch to bring her higher, to feel more friction. His fingers jump where they rest on the chair, fighting not to grab at her, palms sweating. For Valentina, this is easy. Men are so responsive, so easy to lead and dissuade, and fuck. They treat sex as though it is nothing.
It’s sex, Ryunoslav’s words echo in her hazy mind, her hands flying to his shoulders as though to bring her back to her actions. Focus on the movement, it tells her, and she grinds down onto him. She feels as he pants against her neck, her breasts moving to press against his chest so that he can feel all of her at once, reminded of what he missed. The jealousy in her heart pains her, knowing that it’s irrational to feel ownership over a man that is not truly her’s. But she feels it regardless. She wants him completely.
His neck is thick beneath her palm, veins beating steadily in time with the grinding of her hips. The line of her folds wrap around him, dragging up and down his length that when she looks down, she sees it weep. The tightening of his gut tells her even more and she grins almost wickedly.
“Does it feel good, Ryu?” she whispers against him, lips hovering teasingly above his own. Tanaka tries to close the gap. She’s near, yet so far away, unreachable in her anger.
“No, you don’t get to kiss me. Not when I’m your whore.”
He moans then, shamefully turned on by the hard edge of her voice and the soft skin wrapped around him, coaxing something out from within.
“Val,” he utters her name under his breath, the fog in his mind not clearing as it builds higher, tighter. She can feel the storm brewing. His shoulders tense, forearms hovering as though-
“Do you want to touch me?” she bites at his ear, one of his most sensitive features. It takes Tanaka everything to hold back, his hips thrusting up desperately.
“Yes. God, yes.”
“What’s stopping you?”
Valentina watches as the gold, browns and pinks of her scarf wrinkle with his frown.
“You never said I could.”
She falters for a moment, taken aback by the worship and strain in his voice. This is why she covered his eyes, she never knew she had to gag him as well. Some of the ice in her heart begins to melt, dripping down her chest like the sweat on Ryunoslav’s forehead.
“Touch me.”
His hands are on her instantly. With her back under his calloused palms, he can feel every movement of her waist, her hips. He strokes up, her body memerised so thoroughly he can paint a replica of her in his mind. With the eyes tattooed on the back of his hands, he sees her. It was the last push he needed, the rain clouds in his mind bursting as he spills a storm over his abdomen, finding clarity.
It’s wet, warm and cold simultaneously. He feels Valentina’s forehead fall to his shoulder, her spine shaking. There’s a sniff, the smallest of tears leaking into the dips of his muscled shoulders. With one hand, he presses her tightly, his ejaculation spreading messily between their bodies, the other rips the scarf from his eyes so he can drink in the sight of her, his nose nuzzled into her hair.
“Val...” he mumbles against her skin, fingers combing through the hair at her nape, lips finding contact with her neck, then temple. “Look at me, pazolvste.”
And when she does, the world stops. He tries to read the swirl of emotions in her eyes. Is it exhaustion? Arousal? Defeat? All three? Tanaka brushes sweaty strands from her neck, forehead, smoothing down the hair. Valentina glances at his lips, or her eyes drop, either way, with the next inhale, their lips meet.
Part 5 - Valentina
Tanaka tastes different. Tangy and bitter, the kind that makes you want to tear away, only to constantly come back for another sip, addicted. You’re sticky, the sweat from his chest and the spill of his seed spreading against your stomach, screaming at you to separate from him. Everything is telling you to stop.
But you can’t
And you never want to. His tongue swipes across the seam of your lips, and you happily oblige, too weary from the rollercoaster of emotions that had ripped through you to fight for dominance. Tanaka, however, doesn’t seem to mind, your tongues intertwining so seamlessly, you briefly wonder if you’ll ever separate them again.
He pulls apart to breathe, chest still heaving from his orgasm and your mind games. Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck, you realise what you’ve done, how full of blind rage and hurt you were. Tanaka registers the panic in your eyes, the way your mouth opens to say,
“I’m sorry.”
You’re suddenly smaller, eyes downcast to stare at his chest, tracing the outline of the Georgian cross tattooed over his heart, the eight point star on each shoulder beneath his collarbones, reminding you that you’re in a world of thieves. That you yourself are one, and you crossed a boundary tonight that you’ve never crossed before. In his residence. He lifts your chin with a steady finger, forcing you to stare into still, open waters.
“It’s okay.”
But it’s not, you’re not okay. Tanaka must’ve sensed the growing unease as you shift on his lap, knees still pressed tightly to his hips, his softened dick lazing against your groin.
“I would’ve stopped you if I didn’t want it,” his voice is a hushed whisper, washing over you.
“I should not have come here tonight.”
“I’m happy you did, Gadyuka.”
For some reason, you believe him, the tides in his eyes pulling you closer so that once again your lips melt into his and your heart drums in your throat. Ryunoslav unzips your boots, letting them drop unceremoniously to the floor. His hands find purchase beneath your rear, and he stands, lifting you so easily as he carries you through a small door and into the bathroom.
It smells like him: salty, humid, yet crisp, like cold mist when the seasons change. You reluctantly break apart when your feet touch the cool tile, and you look around while Ryu draws a bath. There’s no mirror over the sink--instead on the tiled wall opposite the shower--just a shelf with his electric razor, toothbrush and some creams. The thought that you’d like to shave his head flits across your mind, but you shake it out, turning to watch him fill a simple wooden bathtub with steaming water.
“Are you going to wash me like a child?” you ask, eyebrows raising to show your amusement. He chuckles, his eyes matching your teasing tone, the tension of before dissolving with the mist in the air.
“Nyet, unless you want me to,” he muses, eyes drifting across the splattered cotton against your skin. “You are dirty.”
You lick your teeth, taking in how he’s seated on the edge, sweatpants still haphazardly down his legs to show a hint of the tattoos and scars on the tops of his thighs, “so are you.”
He holds his arms out and you move to stand between his knees, warm hands trailing up your hamstrings, over the cups of your cheeks and peeling down your soiled black thong. You feel… calm, the rage and guilt subsiding to leave an empty stillness in its place, in your gut, where he rests his forehead and your fingers scrape his scalp.
You bathe first, Tanaka’s rough hands scraping away grime, before you switch and run your hands over his corded muscles. The moment is too intimate to speak, both of you barely even breathing as he wraps a towel around his waist and pulls a too long t-shirt over your head. It’s only when you’re out of the confines of the bathroom that he breaks the silence.
“You’ll have to destroy the shirt when you leave,” Ryu observes, tugging at the shoulder seam so that the neckline centers on your body instead of dropping over one shoulder.
“Do you want me to leave?” you counter, crossing your arms over your chest, fingers drumming in a quick beat against your forearms.
“Never.”
Shrugging, you turn on your heel and stride to the messy bed, ignoring the way your stomach flips as it remembers who was the last woman to touch it--that it wasn’t you--and climb onto the mattress. For the first time, you see Tanaka completely taken by surprise. He’s close to asking you ‘why?’ but thinks against it, hurtling after you to pull you into his arms, against his chest.
This is unchartered waters, the bed a dinghy and in his room are endless possibilities. But that’s where it starts and ends. You drag your fingers lazily up his forearm, over a few scars, tracing the bouquet of lilies drawn in thick black lines that stand off his skin; prison tattoos seldom heal flat.
“What does this mean?” you stare up at him, curious as you’ve never had much time to talk with him before, to delve deeper past your lust for each other. Ryunoslav clears his throat.
“It’s for my home,” he mumbles, nose moving to your hair, his eyes clouding over as he watches your fingers. “And my mother.”
The way he explains the beauty of the wild lilies in his home village of Kazakhstan, the bouquet his mother would pluck and keep on their table, sends shivers down your spine. Why would he ever have run away? You learn he has a sister, Saeko, who left with him and fell into the life of the thieves before him, and instead, he went to prison.
In this little bubble, you feel inexplicably warm, cosy, like the world has fallen away. You tell him about your own mother, how her eyes were incredibly warm and the colour of amber, but she never smiled. About how you grew up in Georgia surrounded by powerful men and strived to be just as important one day. Ryunoslav smiled at that, kissing your wrist where the fangs of the snake bit into.
He tells you about the years he spent in and out of juvenile prison in Moscow, unfurling the duvet to explain that each cathedral dome tattooed upon his leg meant time served. He had four. The rose on his left bicep meant he turned 18 in prison.
“The Boss found me a month after,” he recalls, eyes far away, “I’m forever thankful. I was very sick from the tattoo and I would have died if he didn’t take me away.”
Daichi, a part of you whispers. With the thought of your husband, you tense up, shifting until you’re sitting with your hand pressed to Tanaka’s beating heart.
“Ryunoslav,” you call, looking past his head and into the grain of the wood. “What are we going to do?”
“Mm?”
Your eyes snap to his, a cold sweat tickling your spine. You’ve crossed lines tonight, and not by a little. You’ve run so far past it, you can’t even see it if you turn back.
“He’ll know.”
Tanaka straightens up too, attentive to your words but eyes calm with a lazy smile.
“He won’t.”
“He will. Ryunoslav, I can’t keep this a secret now.”
Beneath your palm, you can feel his heartbeat, slow, while your own pounds in your ears.
“You have to. He’ll kill us.”
You stay silent, mulling over the sincerity in Tanaka’s statement. He says it nonchalantly, like it’s the only fact that matters. You want to tell him that you love him. You don’t. Instead, you lay your head back to his chest to listen to that steady, strong drum beneath his ribs. After a few seconds, you inhale deeply.
“I think Daichi is having an affair.”
“I don’t want to talk about him.” Tanaka says instantly, arms wrapping so tightly around you, as if you’ll vanish if he can’t feel you.
“Ryu-”
“Valentina, please. God knows we never get to be alone like this.” That brash, harsh tone you’re used to finally edges it’s way back into his voice. It should scare you, instead you huddle closer to him while he continues. “Even if he’s having an affair, aren’t we doing the same? Let us just be in this moment.”
Tanaka tucks you beneath his chin, the heartbeat in his jaw syncing with yours against his chest. You murmur a ‘fine’, mind still reeling from the evening's events and the intoxication of his lips.
You’re not sure when you fell asleep, but you know he didn’t at all. Ryunoslav shakes you awake, whispering that you have to go, that Daichi gets back in the late afternoon. When the coat is wrapped around you and your fingers hover over the door, you look at him as he frowns at you.
“We should not see each other for a few days,” he states. Although his voice is calm, his chest vibrates with nerves. You know it’s the last thing he wants. You agree anyway, with a slight nod of your head.
***
NEXT CHAPTER
Thank you for reading.
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Cocktease
“Well aren’t you a sight for sore eyes...” mused a deceased Harland as he eyed a future acquisition.
The specter licked it’s lips in greedy anticipation, taking note of the sun-glazed man in front of him building a substantial fort in the sand.
Beautiful curves baked in golden sunset outlined the man’s every muscle. Harland gawked as he followed every bend and bump of the man, committing his form to memory. He continued to hover his intangible mass near his future skin. The man’s hair was jet-black, and gently spiked from ocean water. The man’s muscles moved expertly beneath his skin, revealing their strength. This was a body sculpted through years of work, hard-earned and built for power. Unable to control himself further, Harland began to caress the man’s body from behind, causing him to jolt in a shiver.
“You alright there, Marco?” A small petite woman waved from afar.
“Y-yeah, just a breeze.. Sorry for the scare Val!” He shouted back, reassuringly as he shook off the odd sensations.
This only prompted Harland to continue further, deeper. Harland was as ruthless of a businessman as he was effective. In his day he was never one to compromise. He loved a good, dirty fight. He relished in the struggle. A vessel of this much resistance was made for him. This time around, he dug his spectral fingers into Marco’s golden arms, causing a slight ripple in its muscled flesh. He watched in glee as he traced the outline of those forearms, causing the fine hairs he dragged his intangible hand through to glow briefly and settle white. Property of Harland.
Marco meanwhile went from small jolts to a slight convulsion, as he felt something inherently wrong penetrate him. There was something otherworldly to the sensation he had just felt. Moments later a stream of vile, negative emotions flooded him, causing him to laugh uncontrollably.
Marco knew something was wrong. These were not the bright, sunny laughter he normally gave off. They were cruel, callous laughs which sent chills down his spine. He had no idea his body could even make these sounds. He glanced at his biceps and recoiled in shock as he viewed stray muscles writhing and moving on their own. Marco felt an enhanced sensation in his arms, like an increased awareness in his control of them yet by that very same sensation was an unnatural numbness to them. By all accounts, they were his arms but something was off. These appendages attached to him could hardly qualify as his arms. There was something not-Marco to them that his brain couldn’t quite resolve. Every movement he felt was unnatural, like he had to actively focus on moving every single muscle just to get his arms to move the way he desired.
Marco began to worry in his head, as more and more of his body began to follow in the same feeling. He ran through the day’s events, trying in vain to discern what could have caused these sensations. Then, his legs buckled and he collapsed into the very fort he had built earlier.
In sweat and sand, in struggle and sun, Marco began to convulse on the ground. His desperation unseen by others, shielded by the pile he excavated to make the fort.
He thrashed and shook vigorously, as more unfamiliar sensations flooded him.
The feeling was moving throughout him. It was unmistakably living. And it was drawing closer to his head.
A stream of drool left Marco’s mouth, as his shaking quickened. Veins bulged in his face and throughout his body as seconds later, his eyes began to roll back.
“F-Fuck!!” He shouted.
“Mmmm yes, ‘Fuck’ indeed” an elderly voice inside him spoke.
“What the-“
“Pleasure to finally meet you... I’m Harland”
——
Marco grasped his head in pain. “W-what the fuck do you want?!
“The answer to that question should be quite obvious.” Marco’s own lips spoke this time. His pained expression loosened and all visible struggle drained from it, as Harland commandeered Marco’s pretty face as his own. A hand still half-controlled by Marco shook in place until it eventually relented and caressed his face in rough unnatural motions. “I want this”.
“GET OUT” Marco shouted in protest. His body shook violently in one swift motion before settling.
In a brief instance, Marco again found full control of his body. He let out one sigh of relief before passing out.
——
Stirred awake by the sound of gently rolling waves and the vibration in his pocket, Marco awoke from a nap that had gone for far too long.
He viewed his phone, taking note of the hours lost in slumber. A new text from Val.
“Today was fun, had a client booked. Was gonna wake you up but you looked way too cute like that. Let’s do this again sometime. Maybe no giant sandcastles next time ;)”
He laughed gently as he spoke to himself “Damn, quarantine has really done a number on your stamina, eh Marco?”. He continued to slowly get up from the hole he had created himself- stopping every few moments as if to anticipate another fight for his body, despite writing off the entire event as a dream. “Must have dozed off or something.” He kept repeating rationalizations to himself, chalking the whole thing up to an illusion born of fatigue. Yet somehow deep down, he knew it was all too real. Something foreign, something unnatural was still there with him. Still Inside.
All reservations aside, nothing out of the ordinary seemed to have occurred since waking up and Marco began to even slightly believe his own little lie.
“Of course it was just a dream”.
As soon as Marco began to truly relax himself, his body shook into rigid, unnatural poses, defiantly showing its owner his error.
He attempted to get his bearings, grasping at whatever he could, only to catch loose sand with his arms. In the midst of Marco’s writhing, a toothy sneer pulled itself from his lips.
Harland spoke using Marco as his mouthpiece. “You didn’t seriously think I would just leave all of this?”
Marco’s own struggling hands began to grope and fondle his body.
“Don’t worry, having me inside will a whale of a time- you’ll see” he spoke, trailing of in a moan as his fingers circled sensually around his nipples. “Being my new body will make you successful beyond your wildest dreams”
Marco felt an odd warmth build inside him.
“Get the hell out of me!” He shouted in desperation.
In that moment, he was hit with a tremor of earthshattering pleasure- burst from deep within his abs, pulsing and delivering into the rest him. His arms splayed out, his hips swung into unnatural angles, as he was forced to ride the wave. In the aftershocks from the initial burst, his limbs couldn’t help but twitch slightly in unprompted delight. Marco had never felt anything like that before. His body couldn’t help but leak a little precum in anticipation.
“Some propriety is called for, young man. At least try to hide it.”
Embarrassed by the small stain that now appeared on his underwear, Marco began to shout back.
“Shut u-sh-shit… oh shit… holy shit holy shit” attention was immediately drawn to the second tremor inside himself. Once the second wave hit, he could only manage to barely contain an unprompted moan in his throat.
Marco tried to readjust himself, to acquaint himself with the pleasurable feelings and fight Harland’s onslaught on his senses. Instead, the pulses were getting quicker, stronger.
His abs were in pain, body sore, veins engorged. Muscles strained from their fleshy confine as they involuntarily contracted and relaxed in rapid succession from the increasing frequency of the pulses.
Marco laid in the ground shaking, riled up in pent up fury and ecstasy, expecting sweet, sweet release- only to be met with disappointment as his body, the very body he worked so hard to sculpt, betrayed its master. There would be no respite from the onslaught of pressure inside him. In fevered, labored breaths he cried out to his tormentor. “J-Just do it…. ah ah a-Holy shit. Take me. FUCK. We’re so close… please”.
Marco’s head hung back while his mouth contorted into a pained expression. The corners of his mouth twitched in place as the Harland new face took on a dark, lecherous expression.
“No, you were made to please me! You’re not getting a drop of this!” In that instance, something inside Marco’s body clicked into place.
This was it, Harland could see himself begin to manifest through his newly-acquired Marco-template. Marco’s eyes took on an evil, soulless demeanor. His hair began to flush white before settling into a dark gray color between Marco’s and Harland’s. All along his body, similar changes had occurred, cementing this new flesh as not-quite Marco and not-quite Harland.
Of course, the mind was a vastly different matter. Marco was no more- his body only the template from which Harland had fashioned his new corporeal form. Harland devoured his mind, connecting the new body to its sole owner.
Marco was no more- for he was now fully Harland incarnate. Lewd fingers began to explore the body they were attached to, tracing over Marco’s biceps, his shoulders, and his thick neck. His fingers continued to drag themselves among raw other crevices in his body, before gliding down his abs, down the treasure trail and landing gently around his cock. Harland scooped the bit of precum still on Marco’s dick from earlier.
The newly-minted man let out a smug, venomous smile, as he sucked his new fingers clean.
“Quite a delicious partnership”.
…
Though his mind no longer existed, Marco’s body was still pent up in lust and pressure, still attempting to shake and still yearning for that sweet release. With Harland in command, it was subjugated to stillness. Marco’s body continued with build in near-orgasmic heat and pleasure, further amplified by Harland’s mental fortitude.
But even Harland himself could not deprive this new virile body for too long. His hand went back in and quickly grabbed his engorged cock.
With closed eyes, he gave it a light, sensual tug, nodding in approval as he let out a short moan.
“We’re at the home stretch, bud”.
Another tug. This time, with a slight roughness. There was no hesitation to it- this was now his body after all, he knew how to please it best.
“You-this flesh was built for me, you just didn’t know it….and as for myself, I was built to control this to rule you… sorry I took so long to get home. You must have been so lonely building up all that muscle, sculpting all this without me inside to wear it” Harland stated as his free hand began to caress random parts of his body. The tugs began to quicken and his eyes fluttered in sheer delight.
“One final piece…” he moaned
…
In a quick jolt, Harland stopped dead in his tracks. Cum rapidly pooled over his hand, but he paid no mind to it.
He muttered but one word to cut the silence.
“Incompatible.”
In a flurry of feathers and a burst of red light, the two men finally realized their true form:
April Fools!
---
Note: Not actually a huge fan of the fried chicken company in question.
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