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#i will attempt to be positive from now on Good Fucking Night
kaylopolis · 1 day
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Alastor's Shadow (18+) - Chapter Eight
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Alastor x F!Reader
Synopsis: There’s a new Overlord in town and it isn’t the Radio Demon. Six years after you fell into Hell, you have finally earned your seat at the table as Pentagram City’s newest and baddest, and with the Extermination coming six months earlier than planned, it is now time to implement your ultimate endgame. After all, who doesn’t love a bit of power and chaos? Your plan brings you to the doorstep of the Hazbin Hotel as Charlie’s newest Redeemer, but who you find waiting for you will not only turn your entire plan upside down but also challenge your grab for power… 
Tag List: Slow burn, rivals to lovers, eventual smut
Masterlist Link: Masterlist
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Author note: Dear Hoteliers, I give you my favorite chapter :)
<3 Stay smutty
Chapter Eight - The Headliner
Content Warning: Obsession, Blood, Minors DNI!!!
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Fuck.
Everything hurt. 
Was that music? 
You blinked. Hard. Forcing the world into view. The shapes were fuzzy until they formed the ceiling of a canopy bed. 
You vaguely registered Nat King Cole’s “Too Young” playing from the radio on the side table. 
God, everything hurt. Did you already mention that?
With limbs of concrete, you attempted to sit up, but a burning pain shot through your core making the world blur into darkness once again. 
You couldn’t have been out long; “Too Young” had entered its final stanza when you came to. Again, you were met with the red of the bed’s canopy top. 
🎶And yet we're not too young to know🎶
Little movements this time. You turned your head, noting the red silk sheets beneath you. Okay, now the fingers and toes - good they were still intact. The legs? Both still present and working. Arms? Yeah, them too. So was it just your torso? You rolled up, but were just met with more pain. 
Okay, let’s try rolling to the side. You rolled onto your shoulder and slowly pushed yourself into a seated position. The effort and pain made you see stars, but at least you hadn’t passed out. 
Okay, where to begin. Instead of your cloak and leather gear, you found yourself in shorts and a white button-down shirt two sizes too big. The fabric was slightly askew, revealing the bandages crossing your chest underneath. You peeked down the shirt and followed the stained cotton to your belly button. 
Fuck, Velvette practically gutted you from your right hip to your left chest. 
Bitch. 
🎶This love will last though years may go🎶
Your arms and legs had been washed, and your other wounds had healed into scars. A poultice soaked through the cotton wrapped around your feet. Whoever took care of your wound also addressed the blisters still plaguing your toes.
How nice.
Your silver hair had been braided into a long ponytail that reached your lower back. And the shirt you were wearing... Images of deep woods after a rainstorm swam in your vision as you breathed in the fabric - it felt almost familiar. 
Slowly pushing yourself to your feet, you wandered over to the glass doors leading to a balcony. Pentagram City waited twenty floors below. You held your arms around your body as you walked, afraid the stitches would burst and your insides would fall out. Shallow breaths only. Deep breaths hurt. 
🎶And then some day they may recall🎶
It was late, City lights illuminated the night. On the balcony sat two chairs, a single table between them. It finally clicked where you were the exact moment the static prickled the back of your neck. 
🎶We were not too young at all🎶
“Alastor…” you spun meeting the demon face to face, but the view took your breath away.
The Radio Demon stood leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed, his weight on one hip. He looked disheveled, his hair a ruffled mess, his monocle missing. His suit jacket was probably hanging in a closet somewhere, revealing a white button-down rolled to the elbows. No bow tie, suspenders hanging around his hips, and no shoes. For feet, he had… hooves.
It was the most skin you had ever seen from the demon and it felt oddly intimate. Maybe you should look away and give him some privacy but part of you didn’t want to stop looking. His shirt top was missing a few buttons, revealing his collarbone and upper part of his chest. From what you could tell he was very… defined. 
His arms were stronger than expected, with a layer of muscle that was obvious in the low light. Scars, grey and faded, criss crossed his forearms like battle wounds. His arms ended in a shade of black much like your own - but his hands. 
Alastor wasn’t wearing gloves. 
That got the butterflies stirring in your belly. Why did that make you so excited? 
The Overlord stared at you with a soft smile on his face but a gaze so intense it could knock you over where you stood. You felt trapped. You felt possessed. And you liked it. 
“What happened to ‘Mr. Alastor’?” He purred. 
You pulled your arms in close, trying to hide the shiver his voice sent down your spine. It was deeper than you remembered. 
Keep your guard up, Thestral, be prepared for anything.
“I think we’re past formalities, don’t you?” You gestured to the clothing. “Didn’t know you even owned a pair of shorts. Didn’t take you for the sort.” You raised an eyebrow at him. 
He tipped his head back and laughed, a deep rumble from his chest. “I saved your life, and your first concern is my wardrobe?” 
You fell silent. He took that as a sign to change the subject. 
“Come, I just finished dinner.” 
You stifled a gasp as Alastor turned on his heels. A tail, the Radio Demon had a tail. The black tuft of hair sat at the crest of his hips, a red undercoat where a white tail deer’s white stripe should be. 
“You have a tail,” you whispered, desperately trying to hide the smile fighting to breakthrough. 
Be prepared for anything.... You snorted into your palm. Anything but that!
Alastor froze, his tail shooting up, ramrod straight. He tipped his head back, his eyes nonchalantly finding yours. “I am a dear demon, darling.” 
Yeah, as if that was the most obvious thing in the world! Is that why he always wore the jacket, to hide his tail? Did he not like others knowing or just assumed that they assumed? God, you didn’t know why he would be ashamed of it, it was adorable!
The demon scoffed before disappearing, you following after him, trying your best not to flat-out stare at the thing the entire time you walked. Alastor led you down a hallway and into a kitchen where a pot was steaming on the stove. Pulling a chair out for you, he sat you on the corner to himself. Silently, you waited for him to ladle a bowl of food.
Why did the silence feel so... weird? 
“Be careful, darling, it’s still hot.” He sat in the chair next to you and just stared.
Your eyes locked on his, you tried searching them, tried to figure out what was happening in this moment, but your mind felt so… distracted by the image of him in an unbuttoned shirt. 
“Eat.” He commanded.
And you obeyed. 
“God, this is amazing.”
He smirked. “I assure you, he had nothing to do with it.” His shoulders relaxed when you ate another spoonful, finally allowing himself to join in with his own bowl. Alastor’s tail wiggled as if it was... happy? You reread the demon’s face - neutral disinterest. Hmmm… Interesting. 
“What is this?” 
“Jambalaya.” 
“Ugh, I’m devastated I hadn’t discovered this sooner,” you smiled, taking another mouthful. Swallowing hurt, but in little amounts, it was manageable. 
As the excitement of the dinner waned, a deep sadness began to settle into your heart. “Is Angel okay?” You practically whispered the question. 
Alastor didn’t skip a beat, continuing to eat as he talked. “It took the spider a few days to get back on his feet, but he is doing well, thanks to you. Don’t fret, the Hotel has not been touched in your absence.”
You nodded, taking more small bites. “How long have I been out?” 
Alastor pulled a newspaper from the Void and handed it to you. The headline read “Shadow Presumed Dead. V Tower To Be Rebuilt.” The date was a week later than you remembered, seven days - damn. 
“I missed my headline.” Mimzy is going to be furious. 
“Darling, you are the headline,” Alastor chuckled, his soup spoon collecting the bottom remnants of his bowl. He got up, taking yours as well as his despite it not being totally empty yet. He filled both to the brim and rejoined you at the table, his tail wagging away. 
Page two had a huge photo of Velvette and Vox grieving and some article filled with bullshit designed to garner sympathy. The story, of course, pointed the blame on you as the aggressor - accurate. Yet no mention of Valentino and his cruel ways. Vox controlled the media, so it made sense. 
Folding the newspaper and tucking it away, you started on your second bowl. “So, how long have you known?” 
His tail froze, his half-lidded eyes finding your own. “That you’re the infamous masked Overlord or a Fallen Angel playing Human Sinner?” 
Your lips parted in surprise. 
“Darling, I had you picked the moment you stepped foot off the elevator at Carmine’s office.” 
You clenched your jaw to prevent it from falling open. “How?” 
He paused for a moment, not looking you in the face as he said, “Jasmine.” 
What had the egg bois said to you before you walked into the elevator? They said you smelled like Jasmine. 
“It’s…” you start but wait for the rest of the pieces to click into place. 
“… your favorite tea.” Alastor finished for you. 
You raised an eyebrow at him. 
“Rosie might have mentioned it in passing.” 
Of course, Rosie did. The Overlord hated it but only ever got it for you. 
Oh my God, everything makes so much sense now! He served wine during your midnight meeting, a cabernet - your favorite - as opposed to his usual rye. He gave you the radio not because he cared about your sleep but because he needed an ally at the top of their game. The way he felt threatened by you even as a Hotelian and not an Overlord - why he always had his shadow following you. It explains his heightened irritation with Vox and the attention the media demon gave you. It explains the unprompted kidnapping to the bayou! He was going to confront you about it! Alastor knew from the fucking beginning because, of course, he fucking did.
That's why he's been so interested in you.
“The second mystery was solved as you bled to death all over my bed sheets.” 
My bed sheets. My bed. His bed. Not a guest room bed but his room. His sheets. His pillows. His clothes.
Oh my God, you were in his clothes! 
You felt a blush creep up your neck. “You…” You dropped your spoon with a clunk into the bowl as the realization hit you. “Did you see me naked!?”
Alastor laughed, his tail wagging yet again, “No. No. As soon as I got you here, I had Rolf summon Rosie. She let me help with the less… intimate parts of your injury before kicking me out. She cleaned you up and dressed you after.” 
He didn't see your back. He didn't see your tattoo.
Oh, thank the stars for that woman. She was a gift from above. Heaven really fucked up on that one. Oh, Rosie. She was going to kill you the next time she saw you. 
Wait… 
“Rolf?” You raised an eyebrow. 
“You didn’t think my shadow had a name?” He smirked his iconic lopsided grin. 
You looked down at the darkness swirling about his feet, which snickered in response.
No, actually, you hadn’t really thought of it as something sentient enough to need one. 
You turned back to the bowl, forcing yourself to eat more. You were full, but damn, was this good. 
Having gone a week without food your stomach had shrunk - only enough room for three-quarters of a serving, but that didn’t stop Alastor from refilling your bowl again and again. 
“I’ll summon Rosie in the morning. Have her bring by some of your things. Satan knows she will scold me for not summoning her sooner, but it is late.” 
You checked the time on the stove. It was three in the morning. 
“Why are you still awake?” 
He looked away from you, “I don’t need sleep to function - correction, I need some, but the number is inconsequential compared to others.” 
So his bed was barely used? If at all? Why was it so grand then? Maybe he used it for other… activities. What had Angel said the other day? The Radio Demon has never been seen with anyone. Rumor has it that he was a virgin - well, that was coming from Vox. 
“I’m not a virgin,” Alastor’s words purred in your memory. Your mind drifted off to pondering the number of other people whom he had shared his bed with before you realized what you were doing. 
Wait, what were you doing? 
You were sitting half-dressed in Alastor’s clothes, sharing a home-cooked meal at his apartment.
ALONE. 
What… 
The Radio Demon brought his spoon to his mouth and licked it, sapping up the juices at the bottom of the bowl. His tongue was black and forked. 
Your face heated with the ideas swimming in your mind of what that tongue could… 
No! 
You jumped to your feet abruptly, knocking the chair back and causing the plates to jump on the table. 
A searing burn shot through your core causing you to bend over in pain.
“What’s wrong?” Alastor bent to meet your eyeline, his arms grasping your shoulders. 
Butterflies and bubbles. Butterflies and bubbles. Butterflies and bubbles. You didn’t know what they meant anymore, and it terrified you. 
“I just…” You stepped out of his grip, not daring to meet his gaze. “I can’t…” You turned and exited the kitchen searching for the door. 
Alastor followed with hurried steps on your heels. You tried a few doors, but none of them were an exit. 
Was it getting hot in here? It was definitely getting harder to breathe, but you didn’t know if that was from the injury or something else. 
“Stop,” Alastor commanded, but you ignored him, turning down another hallway. All you could hear was the pounding of your heart and the slaps of your bare feet on hardwood. 
Another door, this one open, leading to a small library. 
Fuck, this place was a maze. 
“Stop!” Alastor’s tone turned dark. As did the hallway. Were you starting to black out or was that his doing? 
“I need to leave…” You breathed, now in a full panic. 
Another turn… There, an elevator! 
You sprinted for it, but Alastor wrapped his fingers around your wrist and spun you around. He gently backed you into the cement wall. Cupping your cheeks, he tilted your head, forcing you to look into his eyes.
“I said stop.” His tone was soft. “You’re having a panic attack. You need to calm down, or you’re going to pass out. Just breathe, Thestral. Breathe.”
You did as he said, squeezing your eyes shut. Focusing on your inhales and exhales, you willed the beating of your heart to slow. You stood there and just breathed, trying to match his own pattern of breath before you. 
“Look at me,” he commanded. 
And you obeyed. 
His irises were a deep crimson, his pupils blown wide in the low light. You felt some sort of veil lift between the two of you, his magic reaching out for your own. It caressed your form, willing your heart to slow, cooling the burn of your blood in your veins. Alastor was somehow calming you down using the connection you had formed between you.  
God, why was he being so nice to you? The last time the two of you were alone together, he was actively hunting you.
“Why did you save me?” You ask, but it comes out as a whisper. 
“We had a deal,” he answers too fast. 
You didn’t buy it. There had to be more to this - more to why Alastor needed you and your power. Technically, your death benefitted him in the long run, didn't it? Killing you eliminated you as a rival, as an Overlord vying for souls, as a Sinner scheming for Charlie's power - whether he actually knew that or not, but Alastor wasn't stupid. He's had an entire week to think about every move you've made, every word you've said. He's had time to piece things together, enough to know that you weren't at the Hotel to be redeemed.
“Why did you save me?” You ask again, a bite in your voice, tears of frustration forming at the corner of your eyes. 
He exhaled deeply, contemplating his words carefully, before finally leaning in and placing his forehead against yours.
“I had the pleasure of arriving just after you shattered the top floor of V Tower. The way you incinerated Valentino from within... By Satan, you were a vision…” 
You went still. 
“I was sure you were going to kill Velvette and Vox as well until Velvette pulled the Angelic blade and sunk it deep into your chest.” His breathing quickened, his voice deepening to a smokey edge. 
“And that’s when I decided that she was not worthy of owning your death.” Alastor’s grip on your cheeks hardened till he had to let go. He placed one arm against the wall, his forearm and elbow flush with the cool concrete, entrapping you in place. His other found your chin, forefinger and thumb gently caressing your skin. “No one was.” He closed his eyes, guiding his nose to yours. The bridge of it rested against your own. 
You couldn’t think anymore. All manner of logic left your brain the second Alastor's forehead found yours.
“If anyone was going to draw your last breath from these lips,” His thumb finds your bottom lip, and you gasp, drawing a growl deep from the demon’s chest. 
Your lips parted even though you begged them not to. Even though you told them you didn’t want this. Even though they disobeyed and you found yourself okay with it anyway. Even though you wanted more…
His claw traced the curve of your lip oh-so-gently, before wrapping under your chin once more and pulling you closer.
He whispered onto your lips, “It was going to be me…” 
DING-DONG! 
“Ow!” You head-butted the Overlord as a loud chime deafened your left ear. 
Tension broken, the demon rubbed his face as he leaned over and pushed a button on a com. “I told you two to go home!”
“Ay, listen here ya’ ol’ timey prick! We tried! Vaggie won’t let us until we have a fuckin’ update! You don’t have a fuckin’ phone for us to call, like a normal person. So, how the Hell do we know what’s goin’ on!?” 
Angel? 
“Give me that.” You heard what you thought was a shove before a different voice echoed through the machine. “Look Boss, Charlie’s been worried sick. She hasn’t been sleeping. She hasn’t been eating. She’s making the rest of us miserable. Angel took her out and got her drunk, and now she’s an emotional wreck. Just give us an update, and we’ll go home.” 
“Husk?” You gasped. 
“At least tell us she’s breathin’ ya’ strawberry pimp…”
You didn’t hear the rest of what Angel had to say as you slid out from where Alastor had cocooned you against the wall and headed for the elevator doors. You managed to hit the button before Alastor reappeared from a puddle of shadows, blocking the exit.
“What are you doing?” 
“You are not going down there.” He crossed his arms over his chest, staring down at you with cold eyes. 
“What!?” You practically screamed, a burn ran up your throat with the effort. Fuck it hurt. 
Alastor didn’t elaborate further. 
You scoffed. “It’s Husk and Angel, Alastor. They’re friends! If Velvette wanted me dead I doubt she’d send them to finish me off!” 
“You are not going down there,” he repeated, cold malice slithered through his voice. 
You stood for a moment, searching his hard eyes, trying to figure out what he was thinking. 
DING! 
The doors slid open. 
“Oh, yeah,” you drew yourself to your full height - well, almost full height. Your posture pulled on the stitches if you stretched too far. “Stop me, then.” Your gaze met his, hardening to steel. 
A challenge, Radio Demon. 
“You know what I am now, right? Go ahead Alastor, stop me.” Arms out to your sides, you waited for the demon to say something. But he was hard as stone. 
You considered summoning blue flame to make your point, to remind him of how easily you had eviscerated Valentino, but you didn’t have to. The demon yielded. Stepping into the elevator, he waited for you to join.
The ride down was far longer than you expected. Or maybe it was the silence that drove you crazy. No elevator music? Or maybe you had ticked the Radio Demon off to the point he shut it all off. Either way, you didn’t care because when those doors opened and Husk and Angel finally laid their eyes upon you, a wave of relief flooded through you so strong you collapsed into their arms. 
It hurt but you didn’t care.
“Holy, fuckin’ shit balls,” Angel breathed into your hair, making you giggle. His sclera were both white. No more black to be seen. His soul contract was over...
“Hey, kid,” Husk grabbed each of your hands, holding them in his paws. 
“Hey, Husky,” you smiled back. 
“You have a lotta fuckin’ explainin’ to do, Hair clip.” Angel crossed his arms, turning on his overprotective big brother mode. “And yous!” He took a step towards Alastor, finger pointed at his chest. “You got a lot of fuckin’ nerve keepin' her locked up this week! We was worried sick! Husk and I thought we watched her die on television, and the next thing we know, she’s locked up 'ere in your ivory tower! No calls! No updates! No nothin’! You…”
Wait, what did he say?
“Angel!” You stepped between the two of them, cutting off the spider demon’s protests. “Did you say television?” 
“Yeah! Vox was filming the whole thang! Well, minus you burnin' Valentino to a crisp. He wanted your death broadcasted so he could claim the stakes of finally unmaskin' the infamous Overlord. Until, he…” He juts his finger back at Alastor. “Shut down the whole grid! All of Pentagram City was plunged into fuckin' darkness” 
Your eyes find Alastor’s but again are met with a wall of cold steel. 
The blood. Did they see? 
No. His eyes seemed to say. 
You pulled the collared shirt closer around you, buttoning an extra level to hide the gold-soaked cotton bandages underneath.
Rosie had taught you how to magick your blood, to have it appear red as opposed to its usual gold. You’d bleed red unless met with an Angelic blade, unless met with a blow promising death, unless you were too weak for the magic to hold. 
Husk and Angel knew who you were but not what. Not yet. But Velvette and Vox? Velvette still has the blade, which means she saw the blood that stuck to it after she cut. Which meant the remainder of the Vees knew what you were - but not who. 
They knew how to kill you. 
Fuck. 
“We searched for you for hours!” Angel hung his head, his voice cracking. “And he had you the whole fuckin’ time.” 
“We thought you died,” Husk added, his eyes shooting daggers at Alastor. 
We thought you died. Died. You never thought about death. Angels never did because Angels can’t die. Even when Velvette pulled the blade, you didn’t think she would kill you. Maime you horribly, yes, but not kill you because Angels don’t die.
But couldn’t they? 
Your mind flashed back to the last extermination. The Overlords always disappeared in the hours before the Extermination. It was policy. Yes, souls came begging for protection - as they always did - but what protection could be offered? You couldn’t fight the Exorcists and even if you tried to hide the souls you owned, it just made for easier pickings when they eventually found you. Groups were targets. 
So the Overlords “left.” Technically, human Sinners couldn’t leave the Pride Ring, so you found other ways to disappear.
You and Rosie always went to Mimzy’s. The three of you sat in the basement and played cards. Mimzy didn’t know who you were; she thought of you more so as Rosie’s adopted daughter before she eventually brought you on as her club’s piano player. 
You were in the middle of a scandalous game of Belot when you felt a familiar tug behind your navel. Someone was using a card to summon you. And that someone was Carmilla. Orange and mint flooded your mouth - fear. Whatever was happening, it was bad. 
You excused yourself to the restroom and slid out the back door. 
Following the call, you found them at the edge of the Doomsday District. The Overlords kept their hiding places secret even from each other. You didn’t know where they were headed, and they didn’t know where you had come from. Your own hiding spot wasn’t in your territory, so why should theirs be? 
Carmilla and Odette were in the middle of the plaza, Clara in a heap of blood and broken bones between them. 
Exorcists flew in a flurry about your head. Sinners were screaming, 
It was a tornado of blood and death. A massacre of the defenseless. You hadn’t seen anything like it since… well, the time of the Old Testament. 
And a beheaded Exorcist lay ten feet from you...
Oh, Carmilla. What had you gotten yourself into? 
“Please, I didn’t know who else to call…” Carmilla grabbed you by the collar of your cloak and dragged you down to the cement. 
Odette sobbed, curling into her sister’s dying form. 
“I can’t…” You breathed. The feeling of her soul fading was like a whisper against your skin. She was fading fast. 
“Please!?” Carmilla begged. 
“I… I…” There wasn’t anything you could…
And then Carmilla screamed. 
She screamed your name. 
Not Thestral. 
Your name.
Your God-given name. 
She grabbed your arm and ran it against the silver in her leggings. Golden liquid bubbled from your skin and dripped onto the pavement before she thrust the wound into her daughter’s mouth. 
She knew. She knew you weren’t just any Angel. 
Not like a low-level Exorcist. Low-level Exorcists can't heal the dying. Low-level Exorcists can't summon Holy Fire.
You weren't a low-level Exorcist. You were special. 
The three of you held your breath as Clara’s wounds began to restitch themselves, as the blood finally stopped flowing. 
There was a gasp as Clara’s eyes fluttered open. Carmilla collapsed into a heap of sobs, holding her daughter close and whispering in Spanish into her ear. Odette pulled you in, thanking you before joining her mother. 
You were numb to the world until you got to your feet and locked eyes with a Sinner. 
At some point, your hood had fallen down.
He had seen your face. 
He had heard your name.
And so had about fifteen others now standing awestruck around you. 
Fifteen people who had to die. 
Fifteen innocent Sinners who happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. 
Fifteen people you turned to ash. 
“We didn’t tell the others what happened.” Angel’s voice brought you back to the room. “They think you were caught in the crossfire.”
“They don't know about Angel either,” Husk added. 
Fuck. 
Alastor must have seen the blood drain from your face because he took one step between you and the boys. “This meeting is over.” 
“What?” The boys gawked. 
He was right. The pain in your torso was throbbing, bringing a sting to your eyes. 
You reached out, hesitating before fingering the edge of his rolled sleeve. The demon turned to you in surprise, a look of… we’ll you didn’t know what sprawled across his face. You waited for the flinch, for the smack, for the scowl, but, to your surprise, he didn’t shove you off. “Twenty more minutes?” You asked, your voice barely above a whisper. “Please?”
Something in his steel gaze softened. He wanted to say no. He wanted to drag you back upstairs and lock you away - but he didn’t. Instead, he locked the front door, pulled a chair from the Void for you to sit, and trudged back into the elevator. 
“Twenty, not a second more. Rolf will keep an eye on you.” 
The shadow detached itself from Alastor’s form and wrapped itself around your torso. For once, you found its coldness soothing. 
“Where are you going?” 
DING! The doors shut. 
“Okay,” Angel started, a pair of arms on your shoulders. “First question, who the Hell is Rolf?” 
____________________________________________
It was like a bomb going off. 
You hit the penthouse first, knowing the Overlords enjoyed a nightcap before turning in. Your weeks of spying had paid off and, luckily, Voxtek’s Angelic Security still wasn’t online. 
Valentino, Velvette, and Vox were spread out along their giant three-piece couch, looking absolutely dumbfounded when you crashed through the window in a blaze of blue flames. 
You went for the moth demon’s throat before he had a chance to react. Wrapping your claws around his neck, you jumped back into the night. You fell, summoning your wings to beat harder, garnering as much speed as possible. 
When you hit the pavement, Val first, an explosion ripped through the Entertainment District, taking out half a block of storefronts, cars, and anyone caught in the crossfire. 
You pulled a broken Valentino to his feet in a crater fifty feet deep. The pimp was barely breathing, his eyes unable to focus on anything. The demon was dead, and he knew it; unable to put up a fight, he just watched you and breathed. 
“This is for Angel,” your deep voice spewed.
And then the burning began. You made it slow and torturous, starting with his feet and the tips of his wings and moving upwards until it consumed him completely. He screamed - his last moments filled with the stench of orange and mint - with fear.
You had killed so many times before, but never had it felt this good. 
And then he was a pile of ash. 
“No!” Velvette screamed. The brat demon and Vox were huddled over the edge of the concave abyss, watching the ash of their fallen partner blow away in the wind. 
“You fucking arsehole,” she screamed. “You’re going to die for this!” 
She lept, her claws sharpened to talons. Behind her Vox transformed into his demon form. Nearly three stories tall, the demon was a mass of electrokinetic energy, his claws digging into the cement of the street as sparks of blue scattered across the street.
Now this was a fight!
Velvette didn’t have a chance to land, for you back slapped her so hard she went flying into the wall of the crater, cracking cement beneath her body. 
Vox was next, but you were faster. A surge of electrical wiring launched at you like a cobra striking its prey. You spun, easily dodging, and blasted through his screen like a missile. It wasn’t enough to kill him, but you were merely aiming to temporarily blind him while you dealt with the Bitch Queen herself. 
Velvette climbed out from the crater, calling you every swear word in the book and then some. 
She pulled a silver dagger from her jacket - a Carmilla Carmine blade. “I’m going to gut you like a fish!” 
And then she attacked. 
Eventually, Vox recovered, using any opening Velvette gave him to compliment her onslaught. And you were holding your own for a while, attempting to find various ways to stall Vox so you could get to Velvette, until...
You sent a wall of flame at the female Vee before turning to Vox and...
“Unknown.” A familiar female voice chimed. “Unknown. Unknown. Unknown.”
“What the fuck!?” Vox screamed, shaking his phone before slamming it against the ground. 
The Soul Scanner. He was trying to get a read on who you are, but the technology couldn’t register your soul.
The media demon paused before his eyes met yours, the gears behind his irises turning in his head. And then something like recognition flashed in his eyes. Before you had a chance to think, a cackle echoed behind you. 
Vox’s distraction left an opening, and as you spun, the female Vee ran that blade diagonally across your body. 
You collapsed, your back to them, golden liquid pouring onto the pavement.
Velvette cackled, “Fucking, finally! Now I’m…” Velvette screamed, her sentence cut off abruptly. 
You needed to get out of there. You needed to flee, but before you could summon your wings, a wave of darkness swam over you. 
In one blink, you were in the Entertainment District; the next, you were outside Pentagram City in the Nothing. The outskirts of the City dropped off to nothing but endless black dirt and red sky going on for what everyone assumed was forever. Natives called it the "Nothing" because that was what was here: nothing. 
A pair of red and white dress shoes appeared at the edge of your vision before everything went black. 
____________________________________________
“And then I woke up here,” you finish - you left out the part about bleeding golden Angelic blood, of course. 
The boys were silent until Angel leaned in and wiggled his eyebrows at you. “You show me yours, I’ll show you mine.”
“Seriously?” Husk shot him an exasperated look. 
“What I wanna see 'er wings! Can I see ya' wings? I mean where the Hell do you put ‘em, anyway? I don’t see you carryin’ a purse or nothin'." 
You giggled, the action burning through your chest. “Uhm,” God, your body hurts. “I can try, but I’ll rip the shirt.” 
“So? Smiles probably has like fifty more up in his castle.” Angel waved it off. 
You looked to Rolf for permission but the shadow was oddly still. “Okay.” 
You stood and summoned your wings, but the wave of pain that came because of it manifested as dizziness and nausea. Luckily, Husk caught you before you fell. 
“Get her upstairs, Rolf,” he passed you off to the shadow who somehow was able to hold you up despite being incorporeal. 
Your vision blurred with the movement as he loaded you into the elevator. 
“Ah, shit! I’m sorry I didn’t know!” Angel? 
DING! The doors closed, and you ascended. Shivers wracked through your body, drowning you in sweat. Suddenly, the lights were too bright, the sounds too loud, and the world began to blur.
DING! 
Alastor was there, his face full of worry, his usual smile replaced with straight-lipped concern. With elbows under your knees and hands behind your shoulders, he carried you back to his room, your dark wings scraping the floor as he walked. 
His face was so foreign in this moment, like seeing him without a smile somehow made him a completely different person. It almost felt like he was sharing a secret with you, one only you knew about and one only he let you hear. 
The demon pushed open his bedroom door with his foot, the lights of Pentagram City illuminating the air about him. Alastor was glowing, his form ethereal as golden hues danced about his ashen skin. He was almost angelic...
And that made the lack of his smile all the more disconcerting.
“Huh,” you slurred as he set you on the bed, the world beginning to blur. “I always wondered what you looked like without a smile.” 
Darkness took you. 
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Al - "I will kill you!" You - *actively starts dying* Al- "No, wait!"
The Vox blowup is coming, Hoteliers, don't you worry ;)
-> Chapter Nine Coming Soon! (6/22)
Link to Masterlist: Masterlist
Tag list (Let me know if you want to be added): @sirens-and-moonflowers @wonderlandangelsposts @saccharine-nectarine @goyablogsstuff @mommymilkers0526 @eris-norwega @missgirlsstuff @alastor-the-radio-demons-blog @its-a-dam-blue-brick @sillywormtrixareforkids @cloverresin20
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raazberry · 1 year
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(obm rant ahead it's long)
kinda really pisses me off when people dismiss the demand for good writing in dating sims by simply saying "it's a dating sim what do you expect." (and yes this is about a stupid take i saw about obey me specifically on twitter how did you guess.)
like, maybe this is a me thing but if a game is heavily driven by gacha then i am even more obligated to be critical of it. and if i'm going to be investing that much time (and money) into it, i think i deserve Something out of it???
i've complained about this on here so many times but it's genuinely so hard to actually keep progressing in the story (normal mode at least), especially if you're a new player - unless you whale a whole lot, or get extremely unbelievably lucky. and when you get past like, lesson 20 i think? the struggle just seems... meaningless.
why am i waiting four whole days just to level up one card by ONE level, just so that i can get past this one really annoying dance battle, only for the next story to be just... plain bad? and then i have to do it all over again?
like okay, maybe the story does get better in fucking season 3 which is like twenty more chapters away (btw from what i've heard, it kind of just doesn't get better) but as a new player it is just so hard to keep that level of commitment especially if all you're rewarded with is horrible writing and negative character development.
i've played free dating sims with better played out plots and stories than this and it just pisses me off so much because the general "idea" of obey me is SO good and so fun! and the characters you meet are genuinely interesting. although some jokes were objectively cringe i can live with that (i am playing a dating sim, after all...) like spoilers for lesson 16 and above i guess but in my opinion the execution of the whole belphie hating humans and quite literally killing MC was done in a pretty nice way! as well as the backstory cards regarding the brothers (and everyone else other than the MC) and their relationships with each other! for example anytime i think about satan and lucifer's strained relationship i get a little bit emotional - and yes of course sometimes satan's almost childish annoyance towards him can be pretty funny, it's almost always treated as a running gag (even after they "sort it out") - to the point where it's one of satan's defining characteristics (the other is his love for cats and books). and that's it! that's all there is to his presence in the main story for the most part.
the events are somehow even more annoying - (those i can actually play without being frustrated about my level) and the stories always try so hard to squeeze every single dateable character in one scenario. and this ends with all of them feeling like caricatures of themselves and i hate it! so much! because again - these are genuinely really fun characters and they have so much potential! even if the devs want to make MC your typical harem protagonist, they can still do it well but they just aren't and it makes me so mad 😭😭😭
"well raaz stop playing the game then!" i did do that actually for a good amount of time and i came back because solomon birth (fire emoji), also anniversary. but also i feel like the players kinda deserve better. especially given the gacha aspect.
although i do think that the anime and music are genuinely pretty good - it's just kinda frustrating that they're not improving their main product first.
"what was the point of saying all of this?" there was no point at all. im just annoyed that i actually spent time and money on this game. though i will say that i do love the fan creations and people kinda treating the characters like their OCs and giving them the plot and development they deserve.
"this is a really long post why do you complain so much?" at this point im just criticising myself for no reason but also idk! i play a couple of gacha games other than obey me and i've honestly realised that it's the worst and shittiest way to monetise your game. and gacha games deserve at LEAST twice the amount of critical analysis because it could literally be the reason for someone's fucking gambling addiction. idk
good night it is almost three am and i have a road trip to be on tomorrow
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strawhbrrries · 8 months
Text
Love and Lust
pairing: mike schmidt x afab!reader
summary:
warnings: unprotected sex, no foreplay, oral (m receiving), creampie??, female pronouns, whiny mike, whiny reader, switch!mike??, teasing, overstim, hair pulling, nipple pinching, not proofread, porn with no plot
word count: 1.3k words
author’s note: this isn't as needy n whiny as I originally hoped so I hope you guys can forgive me!!! please send requests for what you'd like to see next! very dedicated to @mfdxz because queen has been WAITING for this one
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“Please.” He whined in your ear, licking and sucking at any of the skin on your neck that he could reach. “I need you, now.”
“I’m trying, I can’t get your stupid belt unbuckled.” You whined back, sitting up from your position on top of him to try and see the belt buckle better.
“Baby, I am going to cum in my pants if you don’t hurry up.” He relaxed his head against the pillows that lined the headboard, chest rising rapidly as he tried to regulate his breathing. 
On normal days when Abby was home you tried to avoid doing anything sexual, but the second Mike had gotten home the atmosphere shifted. He came up behind you in the kitchen, pressing your ass against the hard-on raging in his jeans, trying to slide his hand under the waistband of your sweats. His fingers made it as far as touching your clit before Abby stumbled in asking for more dinner, a small groan only loud enough for the two of you came out.
The clink of the buckle hitting the floor dissipated any frustration you had, your fingers immediately unzipped his jeans and threw them off somewhere on the floor. Today was one of the few days he’d chosen to go commando, both of you were now appreciating this.
You went back to straddling his waist, grinding down against his cock, your wetness causing your underwear to conform to your folds as you slid his cock between them. His breath hitched at the feeling, he turned his head to the side in an attempt to cover his mouth. 
“Fuck, baby..” Mike groaned, thrusting his hips upwards in an attempt to create more friction.
“Feel good, Mikey?” You teased, moving down his body to sit in between his legs.
“Baby..” Is all he could muster in response, anything else was lost the second you put the tip of his cock in your mouth.
The feeling of him in your mouth, hard and leaking from the need to fuck you, caused a moan to vibrate around him. He tried to close his legs at the feeling, you hadn’t even done anything and yet it was all too much already. Your hands pushed them back open, taking his cock as far as it could go, your nose was pressing against his pubic bone. You hollowed your cheeks as you pulled off of him, using your tongue to swirl around it as you went.
You climbed back up his body, straddling his waist yet again, and placing your lips against his. The kiss was needy and messy, strings of saliva connecting your chins together. His fingers found your hair, entangling themselves at the base and pulling your head back. He needed you, and he was tired of letting you have that control.
“I said, I needed you, now.” He grunted, nipping at your exposed collarbone.
Mike lifted your shirt and threw it to the growing pile of clothes on the floor, latching onto one of your nipples and rolling the other in between his fingers. You threw your head back at the sensation, trying to hold yourself up against him in an attempt to keep control. Any ounce of control that you had left disappeared when your hair was yanked backwards, causing a loud whimper to leave your mouth and Mike to slap a hand over it. 
The sound of Abby shuffling around in her room stopped the two of you in your tracks, the soft padding of her footsteps passed by the bedroom door. You exchanged a look, it was past her bedtime, and he was off to go check on her. Nights when Abby left her room after her initial bedtime meant she’d be more likely to leave more times throughout the night, sometimes she just wasn’t tired and sometimes she just couldn’t sleep, it’s how she worked.
You heard the two of them exchanging muffled words quickly followed by their footsteps back into her room. To save time, in the chance Abby did leave her room again, you threw your underwear into the pile on the floor.
“She needed water.” He mumbled, closing the door and locking it behind him, throwing off the sweats he’d put on in a hurry. 
The bed dipped as he climbed up you, kissing his way up your body. His fingers slid between your folds, collecting your wetness and bringing the fingers to your mouth. He tapped your lips, an indicator that he wanted you to open your mouth, and slid his fingers in when you opened them.
“How do you taste, sweet girl? Let me taste.” Mike removed his fingers from your mouth and leaned closer to kiss you, swirling his tongue around yours. “Fuuuck.”
Two fingers swirled at your entrance, pushing in slightly as his other hand covered your mouth just in case. He curled his fingers, brushing against the soft, spongy spot inside of you. Your body jerked against him, whining against his hand. 
“Shhh, I’ll take care of you, I promise.” He whispered in your ear, a low groan following behind it as he removed his fingers and replaced them with his cock.
The stretch was wonderful, stinging slightly at the lack of prep but an oh so delicious sting. A small whine escaped his throat, hips stuttering slightly at the feeling of your warm cunt stretching around him. His eyes were squeezed shut, trying to keep himself quiet and to stop himself from cumming so soon. There was just something about having to be quiet and the dire need to fuck you into the mattress was sending him into a spiral, his eyes were just as glazed over as yours were.
His hips thrusted in and out, fingers fumbling around your chest as he searched for your nipples. You brought your hands to your mouth, despite most of your moans and whines getting caught in your throat every time his hips pushed back in, the chance of being caught bringing an overwhelming sense of excitement.
“Baby, fuuck…baby.” Mike moaned, splaying one hand on your stomach and bringing the other to his mouth. 
He was holding on by a thread, orgasm threatening to spill all over your insides with every thrust, he’d been waiting for this all day and now that it was finally here he couldn’t even hold on. 
“I need to cum..” He whined, leaning over so your knees were against your chest and his mouth was by your ear.
“Inside..” You managed to choke out, keeping one hand on your mouth and digging the other into the skin of his bicep, small moon shaped indents appearing.
After you finished your one word sentence he painted your insides with a low groan, sweaty forehead laying itself in the crook of your neck as he continued to thrust in and out. The over-stimulation was too much but he was determined to get you off, he slithered a hand between your bodies. He drew figure eights over your clit as he continued his thrusting, sucking and licking at the skin of your neck.
“Mikey…Mikey..” Your words were breathy and almost inaudible, all you could think, hear, smell, taste was just Mike.
He was overwhelming your senses in the best way and all you wanted was to live in this blissful state forever, full of him. One more thrust had your mind reeling, body shaking, sharp white pleasure searing through your veins as your orgasm ripped through you. He slapped another hand over your mouth, continuing his thrusts to help work you through your orgasm.
“Mike? What are you doing to her?” Abby asked innocently, standing at the open door that didn’t latch when he thought he locked it.
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cyber333angel · 16 days
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waking up needy for rafe..
it was around 2 am, where you laid in your plush bed next your boyfriend rafe as you stirred in your sleep. rolling back and forth in the bed you awoke, feeling a wetness in between your legs. to quench this feeling you slivered your hands down to your cunt, sliding a finger into your folds.
you circled the small bud hoping to cum but you just couldn’t hit the right spots so you decided to wake up the man beside you. “rafey..wake up!” you whisper in his ear but he doesnt wake up so you try again. “rafe!” you watch as the brunettes eyes blink awake slowly, groaning from being disturbed from his slumber. “what-what is it kid? what happened?” he questions rubbing at his eyes and you paw at his chest. “m’sticky I need help..!” whining at him, rafe takes a deep breath. “you really woke me up for that? don’t piss me off baby please just go back to bed..” he mumbles quietly while rolling over to go to sleep and you whimper at the harsh tone. “no m’being serious rafey!” you crawl closer to him and straddle his waist, attempting to charm him into helping you release. rafe opens his eyes to face you, staring at your pouty lips in the sliver of moonlight shining through the window. “im tired alright? if you really need me so bad then do it yourself.” you twist your head at the suggestion, a little confused at what he wants you to do, rafe grabs your ass and manhandles you into a position where your cunt is facing him. watching as your boyfriend takes his hand an hooks your panties to the side, exposing your heat. rafe rolls up his t-shirt uncovering his abs and pulls you to sit your clit directly on top of him. “this is what you wanted right? what are so shy for, go on sweetheart.”
..you whine as you grind your hips back and forth in his abs, sensitive bud sliding in your slick. “mm daddy feels so’good!” as your head faces the ceiling going as fast as you can to achieve your climax, you don’t see rafe observing you. your hands pawing at his chest for balance and his hand on your ass holding it gently. “that’s it good girl.. make a mess on me.” rafes hand slithers up to your satin night dress, pulling it up to expose your breast and the way they bounce as you ride him. “fuck..” he mumbles under his breath, squeezing and pinching at your nipples. “think m’gonna cum rafey..” you cry, slowing down your pace but almost at an orgasm. “yeah? cum on daddy baby c’mon..” he tells you and a few more rubbings on your clit and you cum, quivering over your boyfriend. you lay on him for a few moments, catching your breath from the intensity, hearing rafe praise you. “good job sweet girl..let’s go to sleep now yeah?
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cherienymphe · 9 months
Text
Smells Like Teen Spirit (Rafe Cameron x Reader)
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Warnings: NON/DUB-CON, abusive relationship, domestic violence, attempted murder + suicide, mentions of blood, loss of virginity, underage drinking, jealousy, kook!reader
➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies | divider by @firefly-graphics
➥ cont.
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summary: Being one half of the royal couple of Figure 8 isn't what it's cracked up to be.
~
The first time Rafe hit you, it was on your birthday.
Like every year, your parents threw you a big party that hosted no less than a hundred people. A good number of those people were friends from school and familiar faces you’d grown up with. The other bunch were family friends that had more in common with your parents than you. You took their pretty cards filled with money and thanked them with a smile, relieved when they scampered off to congregate with the other forty somethings.
It was the same party every year. Half the people of Figure 8 in attendance, an abundance of gifts you could barely keep up with, and a light scold or two from your mother to smile and greet the next person who came in. Your hair was flawless and your dress was the perfect length.
The only difference this year was the presence of a boyfriend at your side.
“Rafe, if my dad sees us, I will never hear the end of it.”
Your tone was light and teasing, and you said it with a smile, but there was a hint of seriousness there. It really didn’t matter how older you grew to be, you were sure you’d always be your daddy’s little girl. The older man already hadn’t been the most excited when you told him you were dating Rafe Cameron, Ward Cameron’s son, and you were positive that the Cameron family’s reputation was Rafe’s only saving grace.
You’d just turned eighteen then after all and was already flaunting your new adult status.
The blue-eyed boy in front of you merely chuckled, tightening his arms around your waist and leaning in to kiss you again. The house and the yard were filled with almost too many people, so you hadn’t hesitated when Rafe discreetly guided you upstairs.
“He’s too busy talking about his new boat, isn’t he?” he wondered. “He’ll talk all night if they let him.”
You lightly tapped his chest, but you didn’t voice any disagreement.
Your back was leaning against your bedroom door, the muffled sounds of some classical music reaching your ears through the wall. Rafe’s hands were tight on your waist, and you both felt and heard him chuckle again, his lips still pressed against yours. Only this time, he kept laughing—softly and to himself—and you gave him a slight frown when he pulled away.
“I was just thinking…” Rafe pulled you close again. “How hilarious it would be if he was going on and on about that damn boat…none the wiser to his daughter getting fucked on her birthday right upstairs.”
This time you hit him a little harder, and Rafe only laughed again.
“You’re not funny,” you scolded, deflating a little as you pulled away from him. “Way to ruin the mood.”
You said it quietly as you sat down on the edge of your bed, but Rafe heard it clearly, and when you looked up at him, you recognized the look on his face instantly.
“Funny,” he started, shoving his hands into his pockets and leaning against the door. “Mentioning sex usually has the opposite effect on most people.”
You rolled your eyes with a turn of your head, looking towards your window. The atmosphere was different, now, and you didn’t know if it was your fault or Rafe’s. He joked like that sometimes, and you knew it, so you could recognize that maybe you were being too sensitive.
The topic at hand, however, was a sensitive one for you.
“I really don’t want to have this fight, right now,” you mumbled.
You could feel his gaze on you, but you didn’t return it, determined to just stare down at the people in your yard. The air was thick, the tension even thicker, and you reached up to rub your arms, trying to rid them of the goosebumps that had appeared. Rafe hated being ignored, and you knew that, but you couldn’t bring yourself to continue the conversation because you knew what was brewing.
Rafe was the perfect boyfriend. He was pretty—the kind of pretty that even some girls would be jealous of. He came from the kind of family that taught him about manners and respect. He never hesitated to do what he could to make your life easier despite growing up wanting for nothing. You didn’t think it was possible for an already spoiled girl to be spoiled some more until you started dating Rafe and he proved you wrong. He treated you like a princess, so yes. Rafe was the perfect boyfriend.
Mostly.
“I’ve been really understanding, you know…”
Rafe’s voice was low, and your gaze dropped to your lap.
“…but we’ve been dating for what? Eight months?”
You swallowed, eyes burning.
“Do you know how hard Topper and Kelce would laugh at me if they knew my girlfriend of almost a year refuses to have sex with me?”
You scoffed, finally looking at him, brows pulled together.
“You make it sound like I’m punishing you,” you breathed. “Rafe, this has nothing to do with you, I… I’m just not ready.”
“…and still no ETA on when you will be, huh?”
You blinked at him, lips parting at his callous tone and words. You looked away, blinking back tears because you would hate it if you cried on your birthday of all days.
“You’re being an asshole.”
You whispered it, and you heard Rafe huff.
“I’m not trying to be,” he told you, and you heard him move closer. “…but come on. I get it…”
The bed dipped as he sat down next to you, and you felt his hand on your face, fingers grazing your cheek.
“You’re nervous, and it seems scary, but you’re treating me like I’m some stranger on the street, and not…your boyfriend. You know I’ll take care of you. I always take care of you, and that’s why I don’t understand it,” he bit out. “I treat you like gold, and here I am, eight months in and wondering if you even feel the same way.”
You whipped your head around to stare at him in disbelief, looking between his eyes. You didn’t know how he could be serious, but as you gazed at him, you realized that Rafe was very serious. You took a moment to scoot away from him just a tad.
“I show you everyday how much you mean to me, Rafe…but because I won’t have sex with you that means I don’t love you? So just forget all the other stuff, I guess,” you sneered.
Rafe reached for you when you started to turn away, shaking your head and lightly pushing at his hands. Today was your birthday, and you were fighting with your boyfriend…because sex was something you just weren’t ready for. You snatched your arm out of his hold, standing on unsteady legs.
“When you first brought this up, I told you then that I wasn’t ready, and you made it clear you were okay with waiting. Was that a lie?” you asked him, meeting his gaze.
Rafe ran his hand down his face, huffing to himself.
“No, but I just didn’t think I’d still be waiting almost half a year later.”
He was standing, now too.
“So, why are you? No one’s forcing you to stay here, Rafe,” you sadly told him with a shrug. “You don’t have to be with me if sex is that damn important to you. There are plenty of other girls out there who will happily give you what I don’t want to.”
You crossed your arms over your chest.
“…and I know because I see the looks they give you…and the looks they give me.”
You were used to envy. You’d been on the receiving end of it all your life. Growing up on this side of the island guaranteed that from birth, but you also knew it was because your standing was only rivaled by Sarah Cameron. If Rafe’s sister were anyone else, you might have found yourself involved in some one-sided rivalry, but Sarah was a lot like you.
Just a girl born into fortunate circumstances.
However, what you weren’t used to was envy because of the man you loved. When it came to your house and your lifestyle and everything else, it never bothered you because no one could take those things from you. Rafe, on the other hand… You knew what he was like and what he was used to. It was why you’d been very honest about your sexual history and lack thereof from almost the beginning. If Rafe was going to leave you for someone else all because you wouldn’t have sex with him, you would have rather he do it early.
Not now…not eight months in because now you loved him, and the thought made you want to cry, and it would take just as many months to get over him.
“If I wanted any of those other spoiled bitches then I wouldn’t be here,” Rafe told you. “Besides, you think I’m just going to walk away with nothing after investing so much time and money and energy into you?”
You reared back at that, eyes widening just a tad, and Rafe seemed to realize how that came out. He sighed, reaching for you just as you stepped away from him. You heard him curse when you left the room, ignoring the sound of him calling your name as you hurried to mix yourself in with all of your guests downstairs.
Rafe talked about you like some business investment he was waiting to get a return on. It hurt, a lot, and while you wanted to believe he hadn’t meant it like that in his head, you couldn’t help but to wonder if that was really how he saw you. Your mother smiled at you when she saw your face, none the wiser to your temporary absence. Your own smile was forced as she introduced you to their new golfing buddies.
You didn’t know when Rafe came back downstairs, only quickly glancing away when your eyes connected with his after some time. If your parents noticed your distance from him, they didn’t comment on it, and after a while, you barely noticed it yourself. You immersed yourself in your friends, halfway listening to boyfriend troubles and semester woes.
This was the only thing you and Rafe ever fought about. Plenty of your friends had boyfriends before who tried to pressure them into doing things they didn’t want to do. You were always the friend to tell them to dump them without hesitation, so why hadn’t you done the same? Was it because Rafe was so perfect in all other aspects of your relationship? The back and forth hadn’t ever been so serious before…not until tonight.
As you sipped on the drink you weren’t supposed to be having, you remembered the hurt you felt when Rafe implied you didn’t love him. What a crazy thing to say. You treated him just as well as he treated you, never mind the fact that you told him every day how much you loved him…but because you wouldn’t fuck him that meant otherwise?
It was enough to make you angry.
“Finally stopped hiding from me…?”
You tensed up for half a second, relaxing with a sigh as you heard him come closer. You were out by the water, now, sitting on the boat dock with one leg swinging. It had been nothing but just you and your thoughts for a good thirty minutes, and you guessed it took that amount of time for Rafe to realize you were no longer in the house.
“I don’t know yet,” you honestly told him.
“I didn’t mean it like that. You know I didn’t,” Rafe quietly said, getting straight to the point.
“…but I don’t know. You don’t even think I love you just because I won’t have sex with you. For all I know, that’s exactly how you see me,” you mumbled.
“You’re being ridiculous.”
“Says the guy ruining my birthday!”
You were looking up at him, now, tearfully, and you shook your head. Saying it aloud made you realize just how shitty it was, and you sniffed, pulling yourself to your feet.
“Just go home, Rafe…”
He stopped you from walking by him, and you ignored anything he was trying to say. The more he leaned in, that was when you smelled it, and your frown deepened at the stench of alcohol on his breath. You didn’t know why the smell made you so angry. It was a party, after all, but maybe it was the fact that if anyone of the two of you deserved to drown their sorrows in booze, it was you. Not Rafe. Pushing at his chest, you scoffed.
“One argument…and you’re already getting drunk?”
You jerked your face away from his hand, glowering at him.
“Don’t you want to at least wait for Ward to give you the daily disappointment speech?”
The slap wasn’t as hard as it could’ve been, but it was hard enough to make your face burn.
You were staring at the water from when your head had whipped to the side, and when a nightly breeze blew by, kissing your skin, only then did the dull burning sensation fade away into a painful one. Your lips were parted in shock, and you were slow to reach up and touch your cheek. The silence was loud, and when you finally looked at Rafe, he looked as shocked as you felt.
All of your breath had left you, and your brain was short-circuiting, desperately trying to reconcile your boyfriend with the same guy who’d just slapped you. It didn’t seem real, and yet the dull pain you felt said otherwise. A few tears escaped against your will, and it was only then did Rafe move. His face fell, but you were already backing away.
“Y/N-.”
“Don’t touch me,” you tearfully spat. “What is wrong with you?”
He didn’t listen, grabbing your arms anyway, and you were still in too much shock to really fight back. Rafe cooed at you, trying to take your face into his hands no matter how much you protested. You wanted him far away from you, and your brain was unsure of how to achieve that, still grappling with the memory of his palm connecting with your cheek.
“Hey, I didn’t… I didn’t mean to do that,” he whispered, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you close. “Baby, stop.”
You shoved at his chest, hitting it, but he wasn’t deterred. He only rested his free hand on the back of your head, holding you against him, and the feel had more tears spilling over. You kept trying to get away, but Rafe refused to let you, repeatedly apologizing and shushing you. You could feel the cool metal of his ring against your scalp, his lips there too as he kept telling you he was sorry.
Your chest was so tight, and it ached just as much as your face. Your mind was still fighting to make sense of what had happened tonight, and despite Rafe’s apologies for his entire behavior, you told yourself that this was the last straw. Rafe had ruined your birthday in more ways than one, and you were done. You had to be.
…because you deserved better.
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The first time you had sex with Rafe—with anyone ever—you’d been terrified.
…and drunk.
An entire month after your birthday, and you didn’t know if you were more shocked or angry that you stayed with Rafe. You had been so determined to leave him that night. He had ruined your birthday beyond repair, and you knew that anytime you looked back on the night you turned nineteen, you’d only remember Rafe slapping you on the dock.
…but you’d also remember his profuse apologies, and the tears in his eyes as he begged you to forgive him.
He was drunk. That was what he kept saying, that he was drunk and acted before thinking. It was barely a reason and certainly wasn’t an excuse, so why did you stay? It was stupid to stay…and yet you did. You let Rafe kiss your face and lead you back to the party that had long died and smile in the face of the parents whose daughter he’d just hit.
You’d answered the phone as he called you, taking almost half an hour to just tell you again how sorry he was and how he didn’t know what came over him and how it would never happen again. You’d never known Rafe to be so apologetic in all the time you’d been dating him. It would’ve been sweet if it weren’t for the circumstances, and the whole time, you’d only been able to listen in silence with your fingers grazing your face.
You hadn’t been able to look him in the eye for days, going over it in your head again and again. Torn between listening to your gut and telling yourself that it had just been a one-off thing, a bad drunken night. After all, what you’d said to him hadn’t been the nicest, knowing how he felt in regard to Ward and his relationship with him. It didn’t make it right…but you had provoked Rafe. You’d said it to hurt him…to make him angry… Right?
…but that wasn’t the case a month later.
Things between you and Rafe hadn’t been the same since. He still doted on you, and your parents still adored him, and you were reluctant to admit you still loved him, but you could never get that night out of your mind. You could never forget how swift it had been, how no thought to you had been spared. Rafe had only been focused on retaliating, hurting you, and it was something you often struggled with. You believed it wouldn’t happen again…but what if it did?
Without even realizing it, you became less argumentative with the blond. You gave him less pushback, you smiled more and became more agreeable to his suggestions. You spent more time with him, making him happy. You believed him when he said it wouldn’t happen again, but in the back of your mind, something in you was doing everything you could think of to make sure it didn’t.
…and that was why you still didn’t quite understand how the fight had started.
Something about Topper…or Kelce.
You were so drunk, it was hard to remember.
“I saw you!”
You had blinked at Rafe from your place on the couch, staring up at him in wonder and confusion. Another Friday meant another party, and promising your mother you’d be back by a certain time, you’d allowed Rafe to help you into his truck. Nothing about the night had been out of the ordinary, and it was why you found yourself wracking your brain.
“Rafe, I… I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you softly told him, trying to understand why he was so mad.
The only son of Ward Cameron knocked the glass of water right out of your hand, and you flinched at the action, blinking at the sight of shattered glass on the floor. You’d gotten it to try and help you sober up before you went home, and you stared at the spilled water with parted lips. You were too drunk to fully grasp the severity of the situation you were now in.
Suddenly Rafe was there, too close, leaning down over you with his hands resting on the back of the couch. You leaned back and away from him, eyes wide as he looked at you like you were something he’d find on the bottom of his shoe. Like he was so disgusted with the sight of you, and again, you wracked your brain to understand what you’d done. To understand how to fix this.
Rafe’s blue gaze had been cold, icy, and you hadn’t missed the tick of his jaw. The alcohol in your system hindered your thinking, and that had seemed to make Rafe angrier, like he was furious you couldn’t put it together. Read his mind. Overwhelmed, you hadn’t been able to stop a few tears of frustration from escaping, and that just seemed to really send him over the edge.
“You were in his lap,” he had bit out, and only then did you finally understand.
Your odd relationship with your boyfriend these days had driven you to drink more than you ever had. You’d been sloppy…clumsy, and Topper was nice enough to help you back to your feet after you’d quite literally fallen right onto his lap. You wanted to laugh at the ridiculousness of it all, but one look into Rafe’s eyes had you swallowing it down.
He was very serious…and very angry.
You reached for him, but Rafe only slapped your hands away, straightening and looking down his nose at you. It was a look that made you feel so…cold, and with one blink, you remembered that you were alone. Sarah was God knows where, and the remaining Camerons had gone out to eat. The house was usually empty during this time, but it wasn’t this Friday night.
It consisted of you…and your angry boyfriend.
“I should…I should go. Call my mom,” you mumbled, pushing yourself to your feet.
Your attempts to get by Rafe went unsuccessful, and with each block to your path, something deep within your gut just…dropped. Your gaze met a familiar blue one, and nothing about it was warm, welcoming. Rafe seemed to be so mad at you about something so silly, but instead of just talking about it later when you were both much clearer headed…he didn’t want to let you leave.
“Is that what you’re gonna do?” he’d mocked, a mean look on his face. “Call mommy and daddy to come get you?”
Sarah.
You reminded of him of Sarah.
That was what he’d said, what he’d thrown at you. His tense relationship with the other girl was no secret to anyone, least of all you, and you winced at every insult he threw at you. Spoiled brat. Perfect princess. Uptight prude. It shocked you for a lot of reasons, but mostly because Rafe wasn’t drunk. He wasn’t sober, but you’d hardly seen him drink all night and not nearly as much as you, and he was insulting you with confidence, throwing all of these things at you that you never knew he felt.
“I’m just going to go home, okay? You’re being an asshole, and I don’t know why, so I just…”
At some point, your back was grazing the wall, and Rafe was hovering before you, a look in his eye like leaving was the very last thing he wanted you to do. Every move of yours was mirrored, every turn met with one of his own, and for the first time ever…you were afraid of your boyfriend.
When Rafe hit you that night, you hadn’t been scared. Not really. You’d been angry…shocked…disbelieving. Not scared though. You’d just wanted to be away from him, you had even wanted to hit him back, but not once did you remember feeling scared for your life. Not like this night, and you couldn’t keep it together.
“Rafe, please, I just…I just wanna go home,” you choked out, touching your temple. “We can talk about this tomorrow.”
You were so confused as to how you got here. The night had taken such an unexpected turn, and more than anything, you wanted to sleep it off and write the whole thing off as a bad dream. You wanted to get some more water and take a shower and skip to the part where you had a pounding headache in the morning. You didn’t understand how a night of partying had turned into an argument with your boyfriend.
Although, you supposed it wasn’t much of an argument. Mostly Rafe yelling at you and you trying to understand why. Rafe was determined to make this into something it wasn’t, and when it became clear that he wasn’t going to let you leave without dead-ing this whole thing, you frowned at him.
“I fell. You know I fell, you know…”
Your words died in the air as Rafe rolled his eyes, and something in you was telling you that Rafe was going to believe what he wanted to believe. He was determined to make something true, and it startled you to realize that you’d lost this argument before it even began. Slipping from in between Rafe and the wall was a mistake.
A mistake that had consequences.
Your purse was halfway across the room before you could even grab it good, Rafe suddenly in your face again. He was yelling about a whole bunch of nothing, and when you turned from him again, Rafe made sure it was the last time, gripping your upper arm so hard that you actually cried out. His other hand followed suit, and he shook you, hard enough to make your head whip back and forth.
The only time he listened to you was when you asked him to let you go.
…and he did just that…shoving you in the process.
The kitchen counter slowed your fall only a bit, but it added to the pain more than anything else. Trying to get up proved fruitless, because Rafe was there, kneeling before you with one hand on the counter. The other was on your face, forcing you to look at him. You were too drunk to make full sense of everything he was saying, to grasp the danger you were in. When you finally did, it was too late.
…because Rafe was already ripping the dress he bought you a week ago.
You thought it was a joke at first—some awful and insensitive scare tactic—until you were reaching up to pull at the hand around your throat. Your other hand slapped at the cabinets below in panic, and with a knee between your legs, it was impossible to close them. You knew that you were alone, but that fact didn’t stop you from crying out.
“You really expect me to just watch you throw yourself at my friends? Huh?”
The kitchen floor was cool against your back.
“…and laugh about it?”
He was fumbling between you both, and the room was spinning too much for you to understand why. You felt nauseous, and Rafe was hurting you, and you were cold. Not to mention that your head had started to hurt, but you also realized that everything was hurting.
“But you won’t even touch me.”
You felt like you’d been punched in the gut…only lower.
The pain of Rafe’s intrusion had you wailing, and the difference in your reactions couldn’t have been starker. It was hard to decipher, but you were sure that Rafe had moaned, a low drawn-out sigh as he sheathed himself inside of you. You could feel Rafe’s chest heaving against yours, could feel his heartbeat, could even hear his shaky breath.
You, on the other hand…
You couldn’t move. You felt frozen, restricted by something unseen, and when you tried to fight against it, you gasped. One shift had you wincing, and tears spilled over almost immediately. Your hands were pressing against his chest, now, desperately trying to push Rafe away, pushing off of you… out of you. It was no good, Rafe in a whole other world you weren’t privy too as he pulled back.
The feel had you wincing again, and you thought…
Well, you thought wrong.
Your relief was short-lived, and Rafe ignored everything you said as he started to thrust inside of you. His hips barely left yours, only enough to create friction, and you pushed your forearm against his neck, fighting to get him to stop. The pain wasn’t something you could wrap your head around, and you didn’t know if you were grateful or not that you were so drunk.
Every snap of Rafe’s hips made you cry harder, harsh sobs escaping and echoing in the otherwise silent kitchen. The sound of your bawling was only rivaled by the groans that escaped Rafe, your boyfriend pointedly ignoring your plight. One of his hands pushed against your face, forcing your head to the side…as if he didn’t want to see your face.
See the reality of what he was doing to you.
You thought at some point that the pain would go away, subside, but it felt like it only got worse with each thrust of his cock. Rafe was a man on a mission with only one objective in mind, and you were having the hardest time sorting your thoughts, realizing that in this moment you were a means to an end. An objective to be met through the use of your body.
…but you supposed it was more than just that.
Rafe was always entitled, a trait you found somewhat endearing much like towards an entitled child, but it hadn’t occurred to you that he’d feel entitled to you too. Before the night of your birthday, you knew the one thorn in your relationship, the one thing to actually put a crack in your relationship. Deep down somewhere, you expected Rafe to just leave you. After all, why wouldn’t you?
There was no universe in which you’d ever consider the possibility of the alternative.
The possibility that your boyfriend would just take what he wanted.
It didn’t last long—or maybe that was the alcohol in your system sparing you—but you couldn’t even be relieved. Even after Rafe pulled out, spent and satisfied and out of breath, the pain still remained. He was talking, and you didn’t know if he was talking to himself or you, but you paid it no mind. You could still feel him deep in your gut, and you rolled onto your side, curling into yourself.
You didn’t hear him the first time, but the second time Rafe told you to get up, he was forcing you to your feet. It hurt, and you could barely walk, and your confusion only grew. His hold was tight, and his tone sounded off, and you discovered why when headlights from the yard bled through the windows and into your line of sight.
He was rushing you to get upstairs, but you kept stumbling from both the pain and your blurry vision. Rafe didn’t let you go until you were just inside of his room, and as you collapsed to the floor, you could hear the door opening downstairs. You couldn’t stop crying even if you wanted to, and you hadn’t even realized Rafe had left—to give some half-baked excuse for the broken glass, no doubt—until he returned, suddenly kneeling at your side and begging you to stop crying.
You tried to push him away, but your movements were sluggish, weak, and you weren’t able to hold your own as he pulled you to your feet. Rafe stumbled into the bathroom with you, an arm around you and holding you up as he started the shower. You didn’t want him touching you, but you were physically unable to stop him. Every step hurt and made you stumble, every wave of your arm made you sway, and when the warm water ran over you both, there was nothing you could do as he washed away every remnant of his assault.
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You were at Rafe’s side on his birthday, a small smile on your lips as he kept an arm around your waist. Rose thanked you for coming, not that she would expect anything different, and Wheezie asked if you would be staying over. The youngest Cameron had taken a liking to you—all of them did really—and she looked forward to having you around. You wanted to tell her no, but that wasn’t what you said. Instead, you said:
“Its’ Rafe’s birthday. Why wouldn’t I?”
The dark-haired girl beamed, adjusting her glasses, and her satisfaction was contagious. You knew that Rafe’s dynamic with his family was tricky at the best of times, and while you were sure they loved you just fine, something in you also wondered if they liked who Rafe was when he was around you. They were happy to host you for as long as they could.
They had no idea that it was only 24 hours earlier when Rafe tried to kill you.
Trying to leave Rafe resulted in the last thing you ever expected.
That night—and all the other nights that followed—haunted you. When you closed your eyes, you could only see Rafe at his lowest, holding you down and hurting you. You could only feel the pain of him forcing himself inside of you, and the pain that lingered when he was no longer there. The memory of bloody water swirling down the drain was a constant in your mind. As well as the memory of Rafe putting you in his bed, pulling his shirt down to your knees.
You should have left the night of your birthday, you should’ve gotten out then, and none of it would have ever happened, but you told yourself that late was better than never. You told yourself that you learned your lesson and you didn’t have to experience any more hurt to leave. Your eyes were open, and while you didn’t know if you’d ever go against Rafe legally for what he did, you did know that you were leaving him. You had to focus on each step at once. Trying to think so far ahead was enough to scare you.
Right now, you just needed to leave him.
His entire visage had been eerily calm as you broke up with him, voice shaking as you did. Even he hadn’t been able to deny how your relationship had deteriorated, become something unrecognizable and unhealthy. The morning after, you felt like you were existing outside of your body. You could see Rafe leaving apologetic kisses along your face as you stirred, but you couldn’t really feel it. You couldn’t feel his hands either, not until they found a home between your legs, at least.
Your protest was almost immediate, but Rafe had assured you it was fine…and you were scared.
So, you believed him.
Experiencing pain and pleasure at the same time was foreign to you. Rafe’s previous assault was not something to be ignored, but it felt odd to come around him and hiss from the pain of it at the same time. He was gentle, pressing his lips to yours and grazing his fingertips against your skin. His thrusts had been slow and careful, but the damage had been done, and every push of his hips brought out conflicting reactions.
That was how it always went.
Even after the pain and bruises were long gone, you couldn’t stop being afraid of Rafe. After all, he’d made it perfectly clear that he wouldn’t respect any kind of refusal from you. What kind of relationship was that? How could you thrive in that? Rafe may have been your first everything, but you weren’t naïve. He was an abusive asshole…and you were just too scared to do something about it.
Until last night.
You thought it would be easy. You even remembered internally laughing at yourself for how dramatic you’d made it in your mind. You thought… You thought that Rafe would move on, let you go. After all, he’d finally gotten what he wanted, and you had even exhaled when he nodded, a soft ‘okay’ soon to follow.
“Let me drive you home,” he’d said.
“Okay,” you’d replied.
You didn’t know why you thought it would be that easy.
Things with Rafe hadn’t been easy in months, and your attempted breakup was no different.
You realized that when the needle on the speedometer started to rapidly climb, the sound of Rafe’s revving engine loud in the truck. You asked him what was going on, where he was going, even though deep down you knew. You knew Rafe better than anyone probably, so you knew the answers to your questions before you even asked them.
“Rafe, stop,” you’d begged, reaching for his arm, but the blond simply fixed you with a wry smile.
“Why?” he’d wondered with a shrug. “So, you can leave me? Why would I want that?”
The houses and trees were flying past you outside the window, and you never felt more powerless than in the moment you were trapped in Rafe’s truck, unable to do a thing as he raced down the road towards the end he’d already picked out for the both of you. Any attempt to grab the wheel only resulted in Rafe jerking it—jerking the vehicle in the process—and scaring the shit out of you.
Retracting everything you’d said earlier only resulted in a harsh slap to the steering wheel, a dry laugh from Rafe soon to follow.
“You think I believe that load of shit? Huh?”
“Rafe-!”
“You just tried to break up with me not even thirty minutes ago,” he screamed.
He wasn’t wrong, and you still wanted to, but you were more afraid of dying than living a lie. You pleaded with your boyfriend, assuring him that you didn’t mean it. He only laughed again, and you got the feeling that Rafe was genuinely amused by you. By your tears, by your fear, and by your desperation.
Your heart was racing so fast it could be classified as painful. Your hands were sweating and constantly sliding against the door from where you tried to hold on to it. You pulled at his arm when he swerved into the other lane, swerving back just in time to miss an oncoming truck. Your stomach twisted painfully, bile rising in your throat, and at this point you couldn’t even see the road because of your tears.
“Rafe, please, please just talk to me,” you cried.
His knuckles were white as he gripped the wheel, blue eyes focused on the road with not a glance spared towards you, and you pressed your hand to your mouth. You looked out of the window again, unable to make out a thing, and when you reached for Rafe this time, he didn’t slap your hand away. He didn’t protest when you wrapped your arm around his waist, leaning into him and resting your hand against his chest.
You knew that your tears were staining his shirt, and you didn’t know if you stopped fighting as some unconscious tactic or simply because you were accepting what was impossible to escape. Rafe had to have been going a hundred miles an hour, this kind of speed something your brain could barely fathom. It was after some time when you felt his hand on your head and some time after that when you gradually felt the truck slowing.
You were still shaking long after it came to a stop in some wooded area, and the silence in the vehicle was loud. Rafe was just playing with your hair while you trembled against him, and when he stopped, it was only to trail his hand to your neck, gripping the back of it harshly as he forced you to sit up. You knew you looked as distraught as you felt, but Rafe…
Rafe looked calm and in control and nothing less.
His blue eyes ran over your face, drinking in your trembling lips and wet cheeks, lingering on your wide eyes the longest. You felt him rub his thumb along your skin, and when he hummed, it harshly pressed against the side of your neck. Suddenly, the corner of his pink lips curved just the slightest, and nothing about it was soothing.
“I wasn’t serious… You know that, right?”
You didn’t respond because he wasn’t kidding, and you both knew it. Rafe shifted, moving closer, and he brought his other hand up to touch your cheek, wiping your tears away. He studied your eyes, leaning in and grazing your lips.
“It was just…something I didn’t mean. You understand though. Doing things…saying things we don’t mean,” he slowly said to you, swiping his tongue between his lips. “Right…?”
The drop in his voice and the slight raise of his brows had you swallowing, and he was looking at you like he dared you to disagree. Fighting the urge to throw up, and with a shaky nod, you told Rafe what he wanted to hear.
“Right,” you whispered, and he chuckled.
“Alright,” he breathed with a blinding smile, pulling you into his side. “Kelce is throwing together some small thing at his house. I told him we might stop by…”
He trailed off, leaving room for a comment, and you only shrugged.
“That’s fine with me.”
Your voice was barely audible, but Rafe heard you fine, starting the truck and pressing a kiss to your forehead.
“I knew it would be.”
You’d been quiet the whole night, and you’d been quiet all day, only existing as silent support to Rafe on his birthday. If anyone noticed your reserved demeanor, no one commented on it. No one knew that as you wished Rafe a happy birthday, you were afraid of what could happen if you didn’t smile hard enough. When he kissed you, you could only think of how he’d kissed you after threatening to kill you both. Every time Rafe held your hand, it felt like a chain tethering you to him.
You dreaded the moment the party would thin out and everyone would start trickling from the home in pairs, heading back to the comfort of their own homes until just Rafe and his family remained. Eventually they would call it a night too, and you and Rafe would be alone, and you wouldn’t have a choice but to kiss him back when he eventually kissed you.
…and kiss you he did.
“You almost ruined my birthday, you know,” he mumbled into the kiss, making you pause for half a second.
Your only response was a quiet apology, and Rafe sighed into your mouth.
“That’s okay, baby,” the blond purred. “You know I’ll let you make it up to me.”
You were terrified of your boyfriend, and that was why you let him undress you. You let him wrap his arms around you and hold you close and press kisses to your skin. It was surreal to have sexy with someone you were afraid of, like you were being held hostage in your own body. If Rafe noticed—and you were sure that he did—he didn’t care.
He was content to lay you down and bury his face into the crook of your neck. In fact, you were sure Rafe liked your fear, liked that you were so scared of him. You thought it made it all the more fun for him to push his cock into you and feel you tremble in fear. You just knew there was something in Rafe that took great pleasure in making you momentarily sacrifice your fear of him for ecstasy instead.
He forced your head back, and your chest arched upwards into him. You gasped at the feel of his tongue on your skin, gliding over a hardened bud and tasting you. His hips came down slowly, like he was savoring the feel of you clinging to his cock. He sighed with every thrust, and you were never able to swallow down your own moans once Rafe started stroking that fire building within you.
“Fuck,” he groaned, nipping at your lip as he plunged his cock into you.
One of your legs were thrown over his shoulder, and the stretch burned in a way that wasn’t painful but wasn’t the best either. One of your hands was wrapping around his arm, trying to ground yourself as the other twisted into his sheets. You couldn’t stop gasping, clenching down on him every time Rafe hit that spot in you that made you lose your breath.
When he pushed your leg back more, you yelped in pain, but Rafe only hummed. His thrusts became rougher, and he only hummed again when you hissed. Your hand rested on his chest, pushing against him slightly—a nonverbal communication—but Rafe ignored it.
“Rafe…”
His hips were slapping against yours, and you couldn’t even pretend to enjoy it. Your other hand came up too, and he slapped it away, that same hand wrapped around your throat only moments later. You let out a choked cry, reaching up, but Rafe didn’t stop, continuing to fuck you and choke you.
“Look at me-look at me,” he quietly spat.
Too afraid not to, you did, your distressed gaze meeting his even one in the low lighting. He was so close, nose almost brushing against yours, and he looked between your eyes. His hand tightened around your neck, making your heart skip a beat, and his free hand covered your breast, squeezing it, and your free leg kicked at the sheets.
“I will kill you.”
Your nails pressed into the skin on his arm.
“Do you understand me? You try to leave me again…and I will kill you.”
Your heart was threatening to burst from your chest, and the ceiling behind Rafe’s face was starting to blur. The edges of your vision were growing faint, darkness creeping along the outer rim.
“I will dump your body on the side of the road, and I will get away with it.”
His words and cadence were slow, purposeful, and you knew that Rafe was entirely serious. Tears had long spilled over, and you couldn’t stop crying. Rafe shook you, your neck straining from the action, and the whole time he kept fucking you. His lower movements didn’t stop once, sliding into you over and over and stroking your walls all the while he threatened you.
He roughly let you go, and you coughed, touching your throat and shaking uncontrollably. When Rafe shifted, your leg falling to the bed, you pressed your hands to your face, sobbing into the palms of them. Rafe caged you in, thighs meeting yours with every thrust, and he didn’t seem to care at all at the sight of your distress. In fact, he kissed the back of your hands, humming with every stroke, and you could only think that if you had broken up with him on your birthday then he wouldn’t be threatening your life on his.
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Ward Cameron may have felt a lot of things about Rafe, but he wasn’t going to let his only son go to jail.
You should have known that when you called the police, throat tight and phone call tearful as they asked what your emergency was. Telling the woman on the other side of the phone that you were hiding from Rafe Cameron inside of the bathroom wasn’t easy. Telling her that he had a gun was even harder, and something in you wondered if they would’ve been as urgent if they hadn’t heard his booming voice from the other side of the door as he threatened you.
You were sitting on the steps when a familiar car pulled into the driveway behind the cruiser, and you felt your face crumble. There was some relief as the older man went back and forth with Shoupe, but it dwindled the longer it went on. When Ward turned his head towards you, you dropped your gaze, eyes tracing the blood on your foot from where a few shards of glass had nicked it. You didn’t dare look up, not even when you heard his footsteps approaching despite the loud protests from the Sheriff.
When Ward said your name, it was cautious—gentle—and you shook your head.
“No.”
Your name rolled off of his tongue again, and you interrupted whatever he was going to say.
“No, no, no! No,” you cried.
You knew what he was going to say, where this was going, and you refused. You were tired, so tired, and each time you’d tried to do the right thing after your disastrous birthday, you got screwed over. Each time, Rafe was one step ahead or using that charming smile and devious words to convince you it would never happen again. Every slap, every shove, every hand around your throat was proof of all the lies that left his lips.
You were sure that the only truth Rafe had ever told was when he said he’d kill you.
 It was silent between you two for some time, and you heard Ward sigh. You bit your lip, worrying it so much you started to taste blood, and you sniffed, wiping your face as you refused to look at the man. When he took another step towards you, you flinched, and only then did you look up to see the way Ward’s face fell.
You watched him press his lips together, only a thin line, now.
“I want you to tell me what happened.”
You scoffed.
“You know what happened. I’m sure Shoupe told you,” you forced out, and Ward exhaled through his nose.
He briefly glanced over his shoulder, looking at his son in the back of the cop car.
“I want to hear it from you. I want to know how a couple’s quarrel turned into-.”
“A couple’s quarrel?” you repeated in disbelief, tears falling as you exhaled. “He threw a vase at me. He put a gun in my mouth.”
You couldn’t tell how Ward took your words, but he did put his hands on his hips.
“Now, Y/N…you know it’s a crime to lie to the police.”
His response didn’t surprise you, and you nodded, your laugh humorless. Ward knew you were telling the truth, he knew just how unhinged Rafe could be, but he didn’t want him in jail. He couldn’t have the Cameron name tarnished by the arrest of his only son on domestic violence charges. Ward would rather handle this in private, away from prying eyes…and it disgusted you.
“I’m not lying, and you know I’m not lying,” you choked out.
“Why would Rafe do this? Right out of the blue?”
You were on your feet, now, sneering at the other man.
“It’s not out of the blue. Rafe has been treating me like shit for months!”
“…and this is the first we’re hearing of it…?”
The eldest Cameron tilted his head to the side, studying you, and you felt your breath leave you. You watched him touch his chest, gaze soft as he seemed to plead with you.
“Now, I’m not saying that’s not true…but you know that’s what they’re going to ask you. They’re going to ask you why you didn’t tell anyone…and they’re going to note how convenient this all is.”
You knew that, and you looked away, hands falling at your side.
“Rafe says you dropped a vase, and it started an argument.”
“He’s lying-.”
“…and anyone can say you’re the liar.”
You pressed your hands to your forehead, squeezing your eyes shut as more tears fell. Even through your lids, you could see the change in colors from the flash of the squad car, and when you opened your eyes again, the procession of red and blue lit the yard.
“That gun is legally his…and no one saw him do what you claim he did.”
“Why are you protecting him?” you loudly wondered, looking at the man in disbelief.
You’d eaten dinner with his family, even watched his daughter some nights, and he’d smiled in your face on numerous occasions, treating you like his own. Now, though…when push came to shove…Ward Cameron was showing you that you were not one of his own. Rafe was his own…and you were now a threat.
He took a step towards you, and you reached out to grip the rail to keep yourself from falling.
“I am just telling you what will happen if you continue with this,” he slowly started, and you crossed your arms over your chest, refusing to look at him. “They will take Rafe away, and I will pay his bail, and he’ll come home with me. There were no witnesses, and everything is pure speculation, a simple case of he said she said.”
You knew that he was right, and you felt yourself start to shake.
“…and in that scenario, I can’t help you.”
You knew what he was saying. You knew that he was talking about protecting you from more than just scrutiny and the law—he was also talking about protecting you from Rafe. Your lips parted, and you shakily exhaled. You felt like you were going to collapse, legs unsteady, and when you looked over…your eyes finally met a familiar blue pair.
You were positive that Rafe hadn’t taken his eyes off of you since they’d put handcuffs on him. If looks could kill, you were sure that you’d be six feet under, and you frantically blinked. No matter how much you wanted to, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from him, and your stomach churned at the memory of his hand on the back of your neck. His other held the gun, angrily forcing the weapon into your mouth as he sneered at you.
Something about returning the smile from some pogue at The Wreck—blond and rowdy and kind of familiar.
You recalled that his name was JJ.
The fight had started almost as soon as you got inside, and you shuddered at the flare of pain in your arm, recalling the way Rafe had shoved you into the wall. You’d only slid down just in time to miss the flying vase. Just thinking about it was enough to paralyze you with fear…and then you thought about what would happen should you choose to have a legal battle with Rafe and his family.
…and lose.
You let out a choked sob, looking away, and letting your face fall into your hands. You collapsed back down onto the steps, Ward’s voice reaching you.
“You tell Shoupe this was all one big misunderstanding…and I can do so much more for you. …but I can’t help you if you go through with this.”
You couldn’t stop crying, because you were trapped…and you knew it. Your parents had money too, just as much as the Cameron’s, but that only evened the playing field, it gave you no advantage, and you were back to square one of your word vs Rafe’s. You knew he would be far more forgiving if you just…did what Ward said. You knew that if you went through with this and lost, Rafe would wring your neck.
“I won’t let my son go to jail, Y/N. One way or another…”
You knew he was telling the truth, the conviction in his tone matching the certainty in your chest.
“…but at least this way, I can help you.”
Your knees bounced as you wrapped your arms around yourself, your tearful gaze focused on the perfectly manicured grass. You curled in on yourself, head falling, and your shoulders shook from your sobs.
“He scares me,” you struggled to say, and Ward placated you.
“I know…I know he does, but you have to let me help you.”
You pulled the ends of your sleeves over your hands, wiping your face. The night was still lit up with red and blue, and you closed your eyes, stomach sinking. It took everything in you to give Ward a shaky nod, and you kept your eyes on the ground as Ward waved the other man over.
You felt like you were betraying yourself, arm still aching and throat still raw from all of your screaming. A lot of your trembling was still from what had happened hours ago, and like that day in his truck…and the night of his party…you’d really thought you were going to die. You couldn’t go through that again, but Ward said that he would protect you because you knew Rafe better than anyone, and you knew that if you tried to press charges against Rafe and didn’t succeed…
He would kill you.
“Y/N wants to talk to you.”
You glanced up at the sound of your name, holding Ward’s gaze for a few seconds before finally meeting Shoupe’s.
“I want… I don’t-I don’t wanna press charges.”
Your words tumbled out, and for a moment, you were sure that Shoupe hadn’t heard you properly. You came to realize that he heard you fine, and his confusion wasn’t from a lack of understanding. You watched him rest his hands on his hips, looking between you and Ward.
“Now, Y/N…” he started, seemingly trying to organize his thoughts. “I heard that phone call. I heard what you said and I heard him yelling.”
“It was just a regular argument, Shoupe,” you whispered with a shrug. “It was stupid. A stupid vase…”
“That he threw…”
The pause was heavy, and you glanced away.
“That I dropped.”
You shook your head when he said your name, and you licked your lips, gaze pleading as they met his again.
“Please, just let him go. He didn’t do anything to me. It was a stupid fight that I exaggerated because…I was angry and things got out of hand, and this just went way beyond what I intended, so…”
The other man didn’t look like he believed you, at all, and you watched him glance at Ward—who hadn’t said a thing—before looking back to you. He sighed, fixing you with a look you couldn’t name.
“Are you sure…?”
Your only response was a nod, unsure if you could lie any more without breaking down. With an aggravated sigh—aggravation at you or at Ward, you didn’t know—Shoupe signaled to his deputy to let Rafe go. Ward was pulled to the side as the two men had a hushed and heated conversation, going back and forth, while your gaze rested on Rafe.
You felt like you were doing the worst thing possible as you watched them guide him out of the backseat. He looked far from happy as they uncuffed him, and just like all night, his gaze refused to leave you. The flashing red and blue bathed him, blue eyes glinting almost dangerously, and you pressed your lips together while you watched him rub his now free wrists.
The other men were distracted as Rafe slowly made his way over, and you didn’t dare move. You were too scared to, and as much as you wanted to pull your eyes away, you couldn’t find the strength to. It was just hours ago that you’d stared into that face as he yelled at you for something as harmless as a smile. Only hours ago, he was pushing you around and threatening you.
…and now those same hands were reaching for you and pulling you to your feet.
You cried for so many reasons as Rafe wrapped his arms around you, rocking you from side to side and shushing you in what was meant to be a soothing voice. They were tight, and you cried harder, apologies slipping past your lips before you realized what you were doing. Rafe was always quick to forgive if you were quick to apologize.
“I know,” you heard and felt him murmur into your hair.
“Please, please don’t…”
You both knew what you were begging for, and he gently shushed you.
“I’m sorry,” you choked out again, repeating it as many times as you thought you should, hoping and praying that it was enough. “You have to know that…”
Your words died in the air at the sound of his voice.
“I should be angry with you…but I understand,” he softly told you. “You were scared, and you should’ve been.”
You sniffed, staring at the red and blue grass.
“I went too far, and you were right to be scared.”
Rafe pressed a kiss to the top of your head, lingering there, telling you the words that brought you temporary relief.
“I forgive you.”
4K notes · View notes
sincerelyneo · 3 months
Note
will you be reposting the jeno fic you had on your old blog? it was my fave 🥺
here it is <3
fireproof | l.jn
“‘cause no body saves me baby the way you do”
💿now playing: fireproof by one direction
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❯ summary: Your brother Jaemin loves throwing parties when your parents aren’t home — but you hate it. In an attempt to escape the loud music and sweaty bodies you try and head out. But there’s no way your brother’s best friend, Jeno, is letting you wander around the streets so late.
❯ pairings: jeno x fem!reader
❯ genre: smut, brother’s best friend, college!au
❯ words: 8.4k
❯ tags: 18+ minors dni!, smut, masturbation, minor mentions of drug use, drinking, marking, slight protective brother jaemin, begging, spanking, mentions of marking, unprotected sex (don't do this!), oral sex (m/f receiving), fingering, reader uses she/her pronouns, jeno fucks his best friend’s little sister.
a/n: i changed the title hehehe
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This party fucking sucks.
You’re not even drunk. The vodka is watered down, you're sure of it. Your friends ditched you about half an hour ago — disappearing with some of the guys they had been speaking to and seeing. 
"Come to the party with us, they said." You mimic to yourself into your plastic cup. "It'll be fun, they said." 
You scoff taking another swig but pull your face at the awful taste that lingers in your mouth. There are better things you could be doing on a Saturday night, you think. You’re almost positive you saw a new show released on Netflix today. Or better yet, you could be reading some sort of erotic novel that would spice up your Saturday night more than this shit.
But the thing is, this party is at your own fucking house.
Your brother is throwing it. 
Every time your parents go away for one weekend he can’t help but jump at the opportunity to trash the place. You don't see why he can't just have a few of the boys around, have some beers and then call it a night. But no, that isn't exactly Jaemin’s style. 
Of course, he has to invite a bunch of random weirdos that seem to be snorting cocaine off of every surface in this house, and smoking whatever kind of weed they could find. And sure, you’re not impartial to a good night but this... this is not your idea of a good night.
At all.
Sighing, you push through the masses of people, seeing the sweaty bodies that are dry humping one another or eating each other's faces off so much you feel like you’re going to throw up at the sight. 
Stopping in your tracks, you reach into the back pocket of your denim jeans to pull out your phone, seeing that it is half-past midnight. If you know Jaemin — and you did — this was only the beginning of the night. The party is definitely far from over.
Fuck sake.
You put your phone back in your pocket and continue to manoeuvre around the bodies in the hallway. Your stomach growls and you think about how you're drinking on an empty stomach. The only thing open at this time is a Mcdonald's but you don't necessarily want to be that person that sits in McDonald's by themselves on a Saturday night. 
Still, you head for your front door and try your luck at an escape. As you reach your hand out to grab the door handle you smash headfirst into a body. Well to be more specific a chest. A hard chest.
"Ow, fuck!" You lift your hand up, rubbing your forehead.
"Sorry little Na, didn't see you there." You immediately recognise that voice. The deep slowness in which he talks. It’s the only voice that has a straight hotline to your core. 
Yeah, you couldn't ever forget that voice.
You stop rubbing your head and slowly look up, following the lines of his muscled chest that you can see through the tight white t-shirt he's wearing with a pair of denim jeans and converse. Yes you had already checked him out tonight, but you’re only human. And when your eyes meet that sharp jawline, hollowed-out cheekbones and those damming brown eyes, you involuntarily clench your thighs together.
You shun yourself because you know you can’t have him. And that’s the reason why you hate him. 
He's your brother’s best friend.
Lee fucking Jeno.
The worst man on this planet. for many reasons like for one he’s insanely hot. Like too hot. Who on this planet even needs to be that hot? But to make it worse he knows he's hot. Girls are always flying off his arm fueling his ego. He's also selfish and arrogant. 
But the reason you hate him the most, the reason you despise him so much, and avoid him at all costs is because of the burning need — it's past being a want it's a fucking need — to just devour him. Every part of you screams out whenever he is in the same room. 
And you hate it.
You have zero control over your words and actions with him — and he knows it with how much you’ve embarrassed yourself in front of him over the years. Your cheeks tend to grow red without your permission, and oh does he love to point that out.
Ever since your brother brought him home in his first year of high school, they have been inseparable — and you’ve been madly in love.
Well, you’re not in love with the boy. You just, you know, want to rip his clothes off. And let him fuck the living daylights out of you.
"Aw, there they are." He distracts you from your thoughts. 
His eyes are burning straight through you. As if he can tell what you’re thinking, how you’re feeling. And right now, you have very infuriating dampness in your panties that wasn't there 30 seconds ago. 
"Those rosy cheeks, are they for me, little Na?" You swat his hand away as it attempts to reach up to caress your cheek or some stupid shit like that.
"Stop that Jeno!” You snap at him, getting angry is your default with him.
It the perfect remedy to keep him away from you, so you don't do something stupid like fuck your brother’s best friend
“Please just get out my way.” 
"Such a pleasant girl, aren't you?" He winks. 
He fucking winks, and your pussy screams in delight. If you were any other girl, you’d be swooning right now. You’d be on your knees begging for it. 
Well, you won't be on your  knees for him.
Ever.
Especially not tonight.
"Just get out of my way, Jeno,” you push him rather hard. 
You knew it wouldn't make him budge if he didn't want it too but he dramatically moved out of your way of the door. You yank it open and dart through onto the front lawn. Halfway down the driveway, a sharp tug on your arm spins you around and you’re  faced with Jeno... again.
"Fuck sake, what do you want?" You shake your arm out of his grip but he doesn't let go. 
You give up, huffing and dropping your shoulders. The two of you are just staring at each other, so much so that you didn't even realise how close you really were. Your chests are almost touching, there is a hair width between you. And due to your height, if you looked forwards you’d be looking at the bottom of his neck, right where you see him gulp before meeting your eyes again. They seem to burn into yours, suddenly growing intense. 
He is the first to look away but he doesn't just look away, no. You watch as his eyes flash down to your lips. Your breath hitches, he sees that and when he looks back to your eyes again, he flashes you a knowing smirk.
Motherfucker. 
"Come back inside." He says as he throws his head to the side, signalling to your house.
"No," you all but stomp your foot.
"You're such a fucking brat, you know that right?" He growls, closing that gap so that your chests touch. There’s an electricity running through you, begging for him. 
"I'm not a fucking brat, I just don't want to be here at this shitty party!” 
You don't break his eye contact, chests still touching. He can sure as hell feel each heavy breath you take and probably every beat of your heart that seems to have sped up since he moved closer.
"Just go inside, go to your room, anything. Just don't fucking leave, your brother would have my balls if I let you go out alone this late at night.” 
You roll your eyes at the mention of your brother. You love him, you really do, but hearing the word brother leaves Jeno’s lips reminds you exactly why he’s even here.
It’s not for you — it’s for Jaemin’s sake. 
"I don't see why either of you care, you've got plenty of booze and girls to keep you occupied to not even notice me gone,” you stand your ground, trying to tug your arm once again but he still won't let go.
However, he has loosened his grip so it isn't so harsh, but it's still locked around your wrist. In fact, you’re sure you feel him drawing little circles on the inner skin with his thumb and that thought alone has you squirming no matter how much you try to ignore it. 
"I think I'd always notice when you're not there," Jeno says under his breath, his face lowering to yours. 
If you didn't know better then you’d think he was about to kiss you. But that can't happen. Can it? 
Everything but your core is saying no. Your whole body is screaming to open up your mouth and say please. But you ignore it — you always do— and try to keep a brave face. But as he gets so close, too close, your eyes automatically flutter shut.
You expect his lips to graze yours but they don't, instead, you feel his cheek against you , only faintly, as his lips skim your ear lobe.
"I think I'd always notice when you're not there because there won't be some childish little brat moaning about not getting her own way." 
Your eyes shoot open as he pulls back, laughing at your flushing cheeks. Your eyes narrow as you finally tug your arm hard enough this time that he has no choice but to release you. 
"I do not moan about not getting my own way and I am not childish nor a brat,” you sneer at him. 
"Sure,-" he huffs, laughing, crossing his arms over his chest. "Whatever you say." 
"Why can’t you just go inside and leave me alone,” you cross your own arms over your chest. 
"No can do." He stands there like some sort of bouncer, you look to your right and see the path only a few steps away. He watches you and says a low, demanding, "Don't." 
But you do it. 
You spin on your heel and run for it. But you only make it two steps before two large arms are wrapped around your waist from behind and you’re being sprung back into a hard chest. Jeno’s one arm sits tightly around your waist, his fingers digging into your hip and you squirm against him. To stop your wriggling, his other hand flies up to grab a hold of your throat, tilting your head back to the rest of his shoulder. 
His eyes flash to his hand around your neck and he takes a deep breath that causes his eyes to flutter shut. Then you feel something growing behind you causing your own eyes to grow wide. He leans forward, lips skimming yours barely. 
“I said don't." It sounded more like a growl than anything and a small whimper escaped your lips. "Are you going to walk inside or am I going to have to carry you?" He whispers still close to your mouth. If you lifted your head slightly, you’d be kissing.
"I'm not going back inside." You sternly reply, he just laughs and his hold loosens on you. 
But he doesn’t free you. Instead he throws you clean over his shoulder in a fireman's lift. 
“Put. Me. Down. Jeno." You scream, hitting his back, but he doesn't listen. Carrying on heading back inside your house. 
Your cheeks are bright red and you stop your attack on Jeno’s back and decide to clench his shirt in your fists and hide your face in it.
"What's going on here?" You hear Jaemin’s voice and your head flies up.
"Your sister tried to escape," Jeno says laughing, bending down to lower you to the ground. 
When he stood back up, you were so close your bodies touched again, your breasts rubbed against his firm chest and your nipples stiffened. His eyes glanced down to them and they darken, then he looks to you again and grabs your shoulders, spinning you around to face your brother. You automatically lifted your arms up and over your breasts to cover the obvious arousal.
"Come on Y/N, you know you can't be walking around aimlessly at night." Jaemin chastises you.
"I'm not a child Jaem," you roll your eyes with a shake of your head.
"So what? Grown ass people still get kidnapped!” 
You groan, I'm going to my room." 
You push past him and head towards the stairs. You turn around seeing Jeno’s smug face knowing he’s got his own way about you coming back inside.
But you won’t give him the satisfaction. You’ll  just sneak out the window and have your perfect escape. He won't know. 
Not like he’ll come to check — right?
You spin on your heel as you hear the sound of footsteps following behind you. Jeno’s there, eyes locked on your ass until he sees you looking back down at him and then cocks his head to the side and smiles innocently. 
“What are you doing?” You spit. 
"Just making sure you actually do go to your room." He flashes his infamous eye smile that has plagued your dreams since you first met him. "And that your windows are locked. Don't want you running away now do we?" he winks at you.
He’s so irritating!
With a huff, you turn around and storm your way up the last couple of stairs, making sure your stomps are extra loud. You can just hear Jeno snickering behind you and that only rattles you even more. When you reach the landing you turn immediately and head to the last door of the hallway and pull it open, stepping inside of your bedroom. You go to slam the door shut but a sneaker covered foot stops in between preventing it.
You immediately roll your eyes and groan. 
"Leave me alone Jeno." You groan, leaning up against the door with your back, pushing it.
"Let me check your windows then I'll leave."
"What kind of request is that?” You sigh, running a hand through your hair. 
"Just let me."
"No."
The two of you enter a stare off — one you both know he’s going to win. And he does, because you don’t even let two whole minutes pass before you’re huffing out a “Fine.” 
He makes his way over to your window, making sure it's locked, then he chuckles, drawing your curtains too. The only thing lightening the room was your bedside lamp that you had an awful habit of leaving on. That, and it was the perfect deterrent to make it look like someone was in there, keeping strangers from having sex on your bed.
“All done?” You ask, breathy. 
He smirks, his eyes flashing to your lips again and you swear to god if he does that one more time you’re either going to kick him in the balls or jump on him and kiss him. 
You force yourself to take a step back and take a deep breath which makes him laugh.
"Well goodnight little Na, don't go sneaking out because I will know about it." He walks off to the door and before he exits you say,
"And how would you possibly know that?"
He looks over his shoulder, his eyes flash up and down your body, "I just will,” he winks then closes the door behind him.
You huff out and stomp your foot like a child. God you needed to grow a backbone and stop letting that idiot mess with you. 
Storming into your bathroom you slam the door shut. You strip off your clothes and turn on the shower. Whilst waiting for it to get up to temperature, you sigh. 
"Let me just lock your windows for ya." You pull a face copying him. "Want me to check that for ya?"
Once you’re done in the shower you climb out of it and dry yourself with a towel. 
"He's so fucking annoying ugh," you say to yourself as you pull the bathroom door open and saunter into your bedroom naked. 
You don't even check to see if anyone was in there, too busy ranting about him. And when you feel the cold draft of your bedroom it makes you realise you had just walked into your unlocked bedroom naked. Immediately, you covered your body remembering the party going on downstairs; but on first glance, it appeared no one was in there. Still you quickly grab your oversized grey t-shirt from the end of your bed, throwing it on over your head, but skipping your underwear. 
Your room was fairly simple with white furniture, a wooden floor, soft pink bedding, a few cuddly toys. The bed lies against the far wall, opposite the door and you leave your lamp on to have a little bit of light to help you sleep. 
Trying to fall asleep you flip over so your back faces the light. You try a few different sleep scenarios but everything keeps going back to Jeno.
And the way his hand gripped around your neck. 
You flip over again, keeping your eyes shut, yet, Jeno just waltzes into your mind continuously. Like he won't leave you alone. You feel so much anger coursing through your blood, yet you have this strange pulling into your core. 
You need to give attention to it — so you do. And as soon as you slip your hand under the covers, the fantasies start rolling in. Jeno’s arms around you, grabbing at your waist, your hips, your ass, your breasts.
Your breath hitches.
His tongue in your mouth, along your skin, tracing your neck and stomach, then between your folds lapping at you. Your eyes shoot open as you clench your thighs together and immediately feel the wetness.
It was just too much to ignore. This wasn’t going away. You already knew that. 
You just needed some relief and then you’ll be free for the night. Jeno never needs to know and it’s not like you haven’t done this exact same thing before over him. 
Your right hand finds your centre first, sliding between the folds and instantly feeling the slick wetness there. Slowly and sensually, you begin moving your fingers in a circular motion. Eyes closing instantly, flashes of Jeno now being played before you.
In your mind, it was no longer your hand but his. Rubbing your clit, sending shivers down your spine and causing a small panting moan to escape you. 
Your left hand begins clutching at the sheets and as you feel your nipples peak and rub against the soft material of your shirt, you have no choice but to swiftly move your hand up and under to take hold of your own breasts and squeeze. You moan again as you begin to work your fingers faster over your clit.
Now in your head, Jeno stood before you shirtless. Seeing the ripples in the muscles of his abs, he flexes his arms, making you grow weaker. But you always felt like this whenever you saw him shirtless at the pool, or the beach. 
And you couldn't deny how fucking sexy he was — you wouldn’t?”
"What’re you thinking about?" 
You pause instantly, back arched, orgasm growing close and eyes squeezed shut. You can't decipher whether that voice was in your head or in real life so you just grow still and relax, trying to pretend it didn’t happen. 
Your breathing which was already heavy, grows even more so, this time with panic and worry. You don't want to open your eyes, scared of what you might see because you recognised that voice.
At least, you’re really fucking hoping Jeno’s voice is all in your head, because you’re seconds away from orgasm.
"I asked you a question." 
Your eyes fly open. He’s definitely not in your head. 
Ripping your hand away from your clit, you pull the other away from your nipple and force yourself into a seated position with your hands splayed behind to hold you up. You scream on instinct, he doesn't so much as flinch as he stands at the end of your bed. 
His eyes are dark, head low and looking up at you through his lashes. He has that smirk on his face, and his hands are fidgeting, rolling his fingers against his palm. Your eyes roam his body as your scream continues and you wish you hadn't, only because your scream turned into a moan as you spied his hard erection pushing against his jeans.
You gasp and look back at his face. 
"What're you doing Jeno?" You whisper-shout, even though the party downstairs would make it difficult for anyone to hear you anyway. 
Still, you didn’t want any party goers walking in on a flustered you in bed with Jeno and his very large, very prominent erection, standing at the base. 
Fuck. It's so big. You can tell from how it's breaking at the seams of his jeans to be let free. Your mouth waters at the sheer thought of his dick — wondering what it looks like, how it feels in your hands, in your mouth — how it tastes. 
Fuck no. Absolutely not. 
You shake your head, trying to rid the thoughts and ignore the fact your core is pulsing right now, begging for one last touch so you can explode into orgasm. You really fucking needed it.
"I asked you what you were thinking about?" He says lowly, and it causes your breathing to still.
“H-how long have you been standing there?" You whimper. 
He shrugs, “That doesn't matter, what does matter is-" he moves his head up, looking you dead in the eyes as he cracks his neck and then his fists in each hand. "-What you were thinking about whilst touching yourself? Was it me?" 
He smirks again and you stood up, throwing the duvet off of your legs. 
"Not a chance," He says sternly. You look at him again, face paling. 
"What do you mean, no?" you ask, cocking your head.
"I mean don't you fucking move-" His tongue came out to lap at his bottom lip as his eyes moved down your body, down your legs. 
You instantly went to grab the duvet again but he grabbed it first, ripping it from the bed and throwing it across the room. You get down on all fours, crawling to try and get it before him. 
"Jeno!" You exclaim, reaching your hand out for it but it was too far away. You look up at him on all fours, and from this angle... God. You gulp. 
"Give me my cover."
You try to wash away every fantasy of being in this position before him but you can't ignore the way you need his hard cock, seeping at the tip and begging for you to lick it, to suck it. 
Stop. No. Not now.
His hand comes to the side of your face, pushing a piece of your hair behind your ear and you shiver at the touch. 
"Lie. Back. On. The. Bed." He commands.
Your eyes flutter shut for a moment and then slowly, you move to follow his command until you are back down on the bed. You keep your legs closed and hands on your stomach. 
You weren’t sure why you’re listening to him — obeying him . But something in you, some instinct is just screaming at you to let this play out, see what he wants.
"Touch yourself." He says and you blanch, your eyes growing wide and you sit up again, but one stern look from him has you lying back down again. "Touch yourself and tell me what you think of, how you feel, tell me everything Y/N."
Your name. He never bothers to call you that. Usually emphasising how you’re his best friend’s little sister with the nickname he’d given you. But honestly, you’re thankful for the nickname because hearing your actual name from his lips, all nasally and sensual, sends you spiralling. 
It makes you putty in his hands. And as for your hands? Well, they slowly spread your legs wide revealing your soaking wet cunt to him. You keep your eyes pierced on him, watching how his breath hitches, eyes glued to you. The way he automatically grabs his cock through his jeans and squeezes is like a reflex. Closing his eyes only briefly before they're back on you, on your core. 
You feel yourself growing red, the heat of embarrassment consuming you whole as you slide your hand down your stomach. As soon as your fingers make contact with your clit, your hips are bucking off of the bed and your back starts to curve. Building up your arousal doesn't take long. You were already half there, teetering on the edge. 
Except this time your eyes lock onto Jeno’s for real whilst your fingers are moving, soft moans leaving your lips. You spy his own hand on his cock, he hasn't pulled it free but he moves his hand back and forth over his shaft. You can see the way his arms tense as he moves and watches you.
You throw your head back with another moan. Seeing him stood there isn't enough, you need something more. You need him climbing on top of you, replacing your fingers with his. His hot breath against your neck as he rubs you harder and faster. 
"What are you thinking about?"
"You." You say breathily.
"What about me?"
Your eyes shoot open to stare at him, he looks tense and flustered. Just as bad as you. His hand stops moving on his cock and you make a mental note that he might've been close. Too close. And this might be over too soon.
"Your fingers on my clit, rubbing me," you throw your head back as the fantasy flashes again. 
"Yes, and what else?" He growls. 
"Your mouth." You breathe again.
"My mouth, huh?" He bites and your fantasy continues. 
"Yes. Everywhere." You cry out, orgasm seconds away. "Your mouth on me, about to- God, Jeno I'm gonna cum,” your back arches, hips bucking, fingers moving so fast and rough. 
"Look at me." Your eyes fly open at the command. "I want you to cum whilst looking at me."
And you do. The sheer dominance radiating off of him is the final straw that has you crashing down. 
Your orgasm rips through you as your hips lift so far off the bed. You moved your fingers through your orgasm, riding it out but finally, your hips fell back to the bed and you let out a heavy breath.
Before you could even open your eyes again, you felt two large arms wrap under your thighs gripping your hips, and suddenly you’re yanked to the end of the bed. Your eyes snap open, and your head lifts up as you spy Jeno on his knees at the end of the bed, his mouth centimetres from your dripping pussy.
"J-Jeno,” you mumble, just the sight of him has you moaning. 
You’re not sure if getting yourself off in front of him was the moment you both decided to cross the line; but now him manoeuvring between your legs, you knew you definitely had. Regardless, you know now you aren't ever going back to the dynamic you had before. 
"I’m gonna make those fantasies come to life baby.” 
He doesn't miss a beat. His tongue comes out and swipes a long lick up and through your folds. All common sense leaves your head as you fall back against the bed. 
"God, you taste so good. I fucking knew you would." 
He’s thought about this? You know you have. 
He repeats the motion again, this time focusing on your clit, making sure to run a smooth stripe along it, circling it only slightly, enough to have you wriggling. One of his hands splays over your stomach, holding your hips down. 
"I want you to cum on my tongue. I want to taste every drop of you,” you gulp, looking down at him between your thighs. You don't miss the dark pupils in his eyes and that daring look, the one telling you to follow his instructions. 
"Jeno, oh my god,” you cry out, your head flying back as his mouth attacks your clit. He sucks it in, flicking his tongue all over in a frenzied motion. 
You know he knows all the right ways to make a girl squirm. And you are fucking squirming. All over the fucking bed, you’d be breaking free from him if he didn't have his large veined hand holding your stomach down. Your stomach is now on show. Your t-shirt has risen up to just below your breasts and you see the way his eyes watch the movement as you move about, tits bouncing around.
And as if he can hear your thoughts he says,
"Take your top off." 
You do it without question, lifting the hem and throwing it over your head. Now you’re laying there completely naked. His hand that was on your stomach comes up and takes hold of one breast, instantly taking your nipple between his fingers and you hear him, no you feel him, moan into your pussy. 
The vibrations cause you to cry out, hands knuckling the bed sheets. 
"You're so fucking hot Y/N, God." He murmurs before attacking you again, his mouth working wonders.
And that tongue. You’re so close. You can feel it. 
Then you feel as he slides two fingers into you. Jeno curls his fingers inside of you, hitting some sort of sensitive spot, and as soon as his fingers massage that area inside you and his mouth returns to your clit, you explode.
You don't even know if the music downstairs would cover your screams as you fell into ecstasy. His hand on your breast doesn’t  move, but the one that had been hooked on your hip moves to splay against your stomach holding you down as he laps at you, riding you through your second orgasm until you couldn’t take it anymore. He pulls his fingers out, then his mouth away from you at just the right time.
You lay there spent. Completely. 
Eyes fluttering open. Jeno stood between your legs looking down at you. His cock looked painful in his jeans. You had once felt exhausted and ready to fall asleep but as soon as you saw his erection you shot up in your seat. You immediately fumble with his jeans until his hand comes to your jaw, pulling your head up to look into his eyes. He stares for a moment before blinking, taking a deep breath.
"You don't have to- I didn't do that for you to-"
"I want to. I want this." You nod eagerly,"I want you.” 
You lick your lips and it's as if something snaps in him, that moment of care vanishes and he lets go of your chin.
"Well then, suck my cock,” he says, standing there and you do as you’re told.
You unfasten his jeans, pull them down and then his underwear. His large erect cock springs free instantly and without a second thought you take hold of him in your hand. Your hands look tiny against his dick. 
You move your hand slowly up and down his cock, and notice how his thighs tense, then his stomach and you follow your eyes up until you meet his face. His head is hung low, eyes dark and hands clenched by his sides. Keeping your eyes on his, you lean forward and spy the precum, flicking your tongue out and taking it in to swallow down with a moan that makes him grunt. 
You moved so that your face was closer to his balls, then you stroked your tongue all along his length, and felt the way he flexed beneath your muscle. There’s a cocky smirk covering your face when you move back to the top and suck his tip into your mouth.
"Do you like sucking my cock?" He asks, his hand threading into your hair to start pulling on the roots to yank your head backwards. 
"Do you like it when I suck your cock, Jeno?" You flip the question with a smile the power in your hands. You continue working him and he flexes his hand in your hair.
"That's how you wanna play?" He grins at you.
You pretend to think for a moment, "I’m not playing anything." You move your head closer down his length, licking  another long stripe hearing how he curses under his breath and thrusts his hips towards you. "I just want to suck your cock." 
With that, you take him into your mouth, sliding down until you reach your limit. You can't take him whole, he’s way too big for that, but you take what you can. He coughs and splutters a bunch of inaudible words, but you just pull back up and repeat the motion, continuing to take him back into your throat. 
His hand stays threaded in your hair, keeping a rough hold so that you can't pull away — not that you wanted to.  
You love every second. Even as you feel him tensing, his hips moving as he thrusts into your mouth. You look up through your lashes to see his head thrown back as he moans out and hisses every so often when you drag your teeth along his cock. You can tell he likes it as the precum coats your tongue. That and the way he doesn't tell you to stop. 
"Do. That. Again."
And you do, watching his head fall forwards."Such a pretty sight, my cock filling your mouth. What do you think your brother would think about this?" he smirks and your face falls pale.
You almost stop sucking his dick but he doesn't let you, slamming his hips forwards so his cock hits the back of your throat.
Your brother.
Not a thought you want to think about right now but it is something you needed to consider. This was his best friend. You’d finally gotten the man so forbidden, always out of bounds. The whole time you didn’t know that he wanted you as much as you wanted him. 
You moan uncontrollably, and it must send vibrations along his cock as you feel it twitch in your mouth, his thrusts become sloppy and his grip on your hand grows tighter. 
"Fuck, Y/N, I'm gonna cum." He grits out. "Are you gonna let me cum in that pretty mouth of yours?" 
You look up at him. You can't speak so you try to nod. 
"God, you’ve always been the death of me," He thrusts several more times as you slide your tongue all over his length and tip. 
You do it a final time as you take him to the back of your throat, gliding your teeth along him which must've been his undoing as you felt the hot steaming cum splatter against the back of your throat. 
You pulled him out your mouth slowly. Even as he is softening he is still thick and large. You kitten lick the tip as he hisses, causing him to loosen his grip in your hair and you sit back, making sure to obviously gulp so he knows you swallowed every last drop of him. Leaning forwards, his hand comes to your chin and he moves his mouth so close to your you think he might kiss you but instead he says,
"Good girl." 
You hate the way those two words made you clench your thighs together. You thought the two orgasms were enough but no, you’re ready for more. You need more. 
He’s quick to remove his shirt, and as he lifts his arms his abs flex. You are point-blank gawking at him standing before you, making him smirk. 
That snaps you out of it. Remembering you are sitting here, soaking wet and naked before him. You crawl back on the bed and then realise you have no duvet so you have to pull your knees to your chest and cross your arms over your knees to cover yourself. 
He watches you, laughs and then shakes his head. He then moves, shoving off his jeans and underwear the rest of the way off until they both land on the floor.
"Wh-What are you doing?" You ask stuttering, thinking he should actually be getting dressed to leave.
"What do you think I'm doing?" he asks. 
Can't he ever just give you a simple answer? 
Then you notice how his cock has sprung to life again and his hand moves to touch it. Moving up and down the length as he cracks his neck.
"You're h-hard again?" You stutter, eyes glued to the impressive size of him. 
"I'm always hard for you baby." He winks and for once, it didn't make you want to punch him. 
"Jeno, we can't." You shake your head.
 You’re already way past the line. Sex would destroy the whole scale. Still, the idea of him, his cock inside of you, whispering filthy things in your ear... it isn't something you can ignore. 
"You want it." He says point blankly. 
You gulp and remain silent. He moves onto the bed, kneeling and then crawls towards you until he is over you. His hair has fallen over his eyes — so fucking hot. "I know you want it, why try to deny it?" He cocks his head to the side, smugly.
"I-I'm not." You fidget. 
“Yes, you are." He ducks his head low, burying it in your neck. You feel his warm breath and your heartbeat rackets so loud. "You don't want to want me to fuck you,” His teeth graze your neck, sending you into a panting mess as he sucks and bites. 
He then pulls away and laps at the mark you know is there, the one he put there as a reminder tomorrow when you come to your senses that you did this.
"So I’ll ask again. What do you want?" He looks down at you, plump pink lips swollen and wet from his constant licking and biting them. 
You’re going to let your brothers best friend fuck you. And you’re going to love every second of it.
Not wasting another moment longer to think, you grab hold of his neck and lift your head whilst pulling him to you to smash your lips together. There’s heat, fire, and explosions of electricity. 
Your hands claw at his neck, his back, his sides. Anything to pull him closer. His crotch, his hard cock, grinds against your soaking hole and you groan out whilst continuing to kiss him. Both so desperate for each other. His hands skim down your body, kneading your breasts, your hips. He grabs hold of anywhere and everywhere. 
His lips detach from yours, giving you a moment to see how swollen they are before they're attacking your neck. He peppers kisses along your jaw, not sweet kisses but hard and sloppy kisses. Sucking and biting the skin causing your back to arch into his chest, pushing your breasts against him, making him moan. He thrusts his hips forwards, his cock sliding between your folds, hitting against your clit making you quiver.
"Fuck, we really shouldn't be doing this." He continues kissing you down your neck, reaching your collar bones that he also decides to leave marks on. 
"Jeno please," you cry out. Both of his hands move to your hips to hold you still. 
"Please what baby?" He smirks before moving lower to take one of your nipples into his mouth.
"Fuck Jeno,” you cry out as he flicks his tongue over the bud, biting it harshly so you cry out again then soothing it with a soft warm suck.
"Please what baby?" He repeats. 
"Fuck me. Now!”
"And what about your brother?" he brings him up again and you roll your eyes. 
"Stop bringing him up," You moan as he takes your other nipple into his mouth, repeating the process.
"He'll kill us if he finds out." he grins.
"Then he can't find out," You pant out of breath as Jeno moves.
His face is so close to yours that your lips are only just touching, his chest is pushed against you and his cock sits lodged between your folds. You try to shift to gain some friction against your clit but his grip holds you still. His eyes flicker across your face then he says,
"I won't tell if you won't?" His lips caress yours in the faintest of movements. You flick your tongue out to wet your lips, but in the process he bites onto your muscle making you wince then moan, "What do you think, huh?” 
There’s no room for discussion — your body won’t let you. 
"I won't tell if you won't."
He doesn't miss a beat once he gets your approval. His lips are on yours as his hips thrust forwards. His cock thrusting inside of you, tearing you open as you pull your mouth away to cry out.
"Holy fuck."
He stills once inside you, making sure to push as far as possible until his pelvis meets your skin. Your legs wrap around his waist instantly.
"You feel so fucking good." He breaks from your kiss to breathe. "I always knew you would but this-" he looks down to where you are connected and he thrusts further, trying to get deeper but he can't possibly. "-this is better than anything I could've imagined." 
"Move, please." You grunt trying to lift your hips to encourage some movement. His eyes fly open, dark and daring. 
"Beg me." He smirks and does a tiny thrust, a teasing thrust.
"Fuck off,” you pant, trying to do it yourself but he uses his hips to pin you to the bed.
"Beg." He smiles and cocks his head to one side. "Me."
You hated his arrogance. But fuck, you want him so bad. So badly that you will beg.
"Please fuck me, Jeno." He pulls out of you and you suck in a deep breath.
"Again." He grins now. 
You can't bear to look at him but looking down means watching as he holds just the tip inside of me.
"Please. Fuck. Me." You pant, half moaning, begging for him. 
He thrusts so hard into you, you wince and moan out in pleasure. He hit so deep inside that you’re sure you’ll bruise.
"Anything for you, Y/N,” he whispers in your ear before sucking and biting on the lobe. 
Then he's pulling out and thrusting into you. Again. And again. And again. Harder and harder each time. Faster and faster. You lose your breath, becoming a big ball of pants and moans — just like  Jeno.
God, the sounds he makes. You’ve never heard someone so vocal before, but fuck it's hot. The small grunts he makes when he fucks you, the groans when you clench around his cock and feel yourself building. He moves his hands under your ass to lift it, plummeting into you from a new angle, going so much deeper.
"Your pussy is so tight. Fuck,” He says between thrusts, and gritted teeth. 
He seems to have found a weak spot right under your ear that has you clenching like mad around his cock. And he loves it. 
"How have you just been there in front of me this whole time? How have I stayed away from you?" He seems to be asking himself because he doesn’t press you for a reply. 
He removes his lips from your neck and sits back on his heels, his cock still inside of you, slowing his thrusts and he lifts your legs up, moving them over his shoulders. His head moves from side to side, placing a soft kiss on each ankle and for one second. You’re dumbfounded as he looks at you, a daring smirk written across his face. 
He wraps his arms around your thighs, locking your legs in a straight position against his chest on either side of his head, and then he begins pounding into you again. However this time, he moves one of his hands to your centre, his thumb moving closer to your clit. You feel how it grazes your nerves. He strums it once. Twice. Three times then you're wriggling around like a mess, back arching off as your orgasm tears through your body and you explode into euphoria. Again.
He rides you through it, fucking you as you clench and squeeze around him. A string of curse words come out of him, you feel him so close but he doesn't cum. He stops stroking your clit as you batted his hand away, you didn't realise you had been clenching the sheets with white knuckles until you relax your hands and feel a cramp in your palm.
Jeno slows his thrusts until he stills inside of you, his chest is moving up and down with each of his heavy breaths. You move your legs off of his shoulders, enjoying the movements as your legs feel strained too.
But as soon as your feet hit the bed, he grabs you and flips you so you land on your stomach. He pulls your hips up and slides into you again.
"Fuck!" You scream as he slams into you unapologetically. One hand holding your hip, the other trails along your back as he begins fucking you from behind. He leans over you, still ploughing, and comes closer to your ear.
"I always wanted to fuck you like this, you are always strutting around showing off, your ass? Do you like teasing me?" 
You don't even know what you like right now. Mind too focused on needed Jeno to fuck you any way he pleased. 
He grins, then shoves your head back down into the mattress, straightening his back and fucks you harder than you think you’ve ever have been before. You couldn't keep up with the movements, head a complete daze from all of the orgasms that he had given you.
You come to a conscious mind when a hard slap lands on your ass, it makes your pussy throb so he does it again, and again, rubbing over the area and soothing it before doing it again. Each time it makes you clench around him. 
"Jeno," you cry out between thrusts.
"Yeah, baby?" His voice sounded so much deeper, which told you he was close. That and the way his thrusts grew random and unstable.
"Want you to cum in me," You moan, clenching the sheets again. 
"I'm not wearing a condom," He grits through his teeth. 
"I'm on the pill,” you manage to say between heavy breaths. You needed him to cum in you now. 
He shakes his head, "Last thing I need is to get my best friend's little sister pregnant." And that was that because he thrust a few more times, then pulls out, and instantly, all over your ass and back you felt a hot liquid splatter about. 
As soon as his grip left your hip you fell straight down onto the mattress, and your body was thankful for it. Everything hurt. He'd destroyed you. Fucked you, well and truly. And you couldn't stop the smile on your face.
"I'll go get a cloth." He said through some heavy breaths then climbed off of the bed and went to your bathroom. He emerged a moment later, used the warm cloth to clean up his mess although you notice him take a minute to look at it.
"Admiring your work?" You asked him through a laugh, he looked at you and shook his head chuckling. 
"Trust me, if I could take a picture I would,” he wipes it away. Then he returned to the bathroom to throw the cloth in the hamper but as soon as he stood in the doorway of you heard three loud knocks on your bedroom door. 
"Y/N? You in there? Have you seen Jeno?" 
You shot up in bed, suddenly not tired or spent. Jeno’s eyes grew wide too.
You lifted your finger to your lips and gestured to Jeno to stay in the bathroom. He didn't hesitate as he shuts the door. 
Jaemin would fucking kill him and you, without a doubt. Only moments ago you had his best friend’s cum covering your ass. 
"One second," you shout,  jumping out of bed and grabbing your T-shirt. Then you rush over to the door, paint on your best sleeping face and yawn whilst opening it. 
"Oh, you were asleep?" Jaemin stood on the other side, hands braced on either side of the door frame.
You fake another yawn. He looks behind you and you turn too, fearful Jeno was standing there but then you spied your duvet cover on the other side of the room. Jamein frowned and looked back to you. 
"I was hot." You shrug. 
"Shit sorry," He quickly says. "I just can't find Jeno anywhere.” 
"He’s your friend not mine.”
"I don’t understand why you two hate each other," He rolls his eyes and you can't help but scoff at the irony. 
Hate wasn’t exactly the word you’d use for the guy that was just 8 inches deep inside of you. 
"Well, he's probably off getting high or fucking some girl.” 
“Better not be in our parent’s bed again,” he huffs, and your eyes go wide. “Fuck, he better not be doing it in my bed either,” he says to himself. 
And with that, he storms away heading for his room. Chuckling, you shut the door and Jeno emerges from the bathroom, a towel now wrapped around his waist and he stands there facing you. 
"That was close."
"Too close." You sigh. 
He dresses himself as you climb back in bed, getting your duvet back on and covering yourself with it. He walks over to the door and pulls it open, peeking outside to check the coast is clear, then once he does he turns to look over his shoulder at you.
"Our secret?" He says.
"Our secret." You nod and he steps out, not looking back and shuts the door.
You lie back on your bed, head falling into your pillows and laugh. 
But then you shake your head processing it all, moving your hand to cover your mouth, looking at the ceiling. 
You just fucked your brother’s best friend.
2K notes · View notes
luvjunie · 1 year
Note
heyyy, idk if your request or open atm but could you write about miles (e-42) sneaking into the readers house at night, to hangout 🤗 nothing nasty LMFAOOO but like a cute lil moment
— 2:00 AM
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pairing: e-42!miles x fem!reader
contains: fluff, miles being a big baby because yes
summary: miles has a hard time falling asleep when you’re not next to him. wc: 1,205
a/n: i loveee soft 42!miles omfg 😭 also i realized i changed up the plot a little after i’d already written it and came back to find the request, so i hope you still like it <3
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Tossing and turning instead of getting a full night’s rest seemed to be the norm for Miles as of late.
He laid on his back with an irked sigh, hands scrubbing down his face as he lightly groaned into them. There was no need for him to check the time, he already had a pretty accurate guess seeing as he’d been checking his phone every twenty minutes when his eyes would spring back open after another failed attempt to fall asleep.
He missed you. That he couldn’t deny. He’d made the mistake of falling asleep with you one night, and he’s found himself suffering through the same old routine ever since. He’d never slept as peacefully as he did than when he was next to you, and his mind craved your presence more than it craved sleep apparently. The both of you could’ve slept on concrete and he still would‘ve sworn it was more comfortable than his own bed.
It was a stupid idea, and had he not been desperate for a solution he would’ve realized that. But there was no one to talk him out of it as he got up from his bed and fished around in his dimly lit room for his jacket and a pair of nike slides, so it looked like he’d be going through with it anyway.
He scribbled a quick note for his mom onto a post-it note, stuck it to the fridge for her to find after her shift and left their apartment without another thought, making sure to lock the door behind him.
Night walks through Brooklyn didn’t scare him, in fact they calmed him. Everything was quieter at this time, slower— and he knew these streets like the back of his hand. And even if he didn’t, he was pretty good with the switchblade he kept in his pocket at all times. Your place was only a few blocks away, and even through the slight haze casted over him from his lack of rest, he was still vigilant as ever.
He climbed the fire escape just three stories up until he got to your window, using both his hands to hoist him over the steel railing, his feet landing on the old metal as quiet as he could make them.
He hoped that you still kept it unlocked for him, that your offer stood firm when you told him he was welcome anytime. He whispered a plea before he curled his fingers under the edge, sighing in relief when the window lifted open, though the unpleasant squealing due to the age of the pane made him wince.
The last thing he wanted to do was wake you, so he only lifted it halfway, ducking down and stepping into your room and out of the cold. He glanced over to see your cheek still smushed against your pillow, your legs probably tucked into the fetal position with the way your blankets were swaddled around you.
He managed to close the window without making a sound, but on his way over to your bed he accidentally bumped into your dresser, causing a bottle of perfume to clatter into the other objects you had up there.
“Fuck—“ he hissed quietly, twin braids following the act of his head whipping in your direction when you stirred.
You weren’t the lightest sleeper, but the noise had been enough to startle you awake. Lifting your head from the pillow, you sat up quickly, eyes adjusting to make out who the hunched figure was. The two of you had said goodnight just a few hours ago, and now here he was, in your room.
”Miles?” There was a slight rasp to your voice.
“Hey, ma…” he responded, hands nervously hovering over the mess he’d unintentionally created. He fixed it to the best of his ability, but it definitely wasn’t the way you had it before.
You reached over and turned your clock towards you, the bright white numbers making you screw an eye shut.
“Miles, baby, it’s two am in the morning,” you grumbled sleepily, rubbing your eyes with the heels of your hands and yawning. “What are you doing here? Did something happen?”
Blinking the sleep from your sight, you took in his slightly slouched disposition. He looked exhausted, annoyance from his sleepless night evident in the way he sighed.
”Nah, nah,” he shifted from foot to foot, hand hesitantly raising to scratch his head. His idea seemed sensible at first. He was willing to do anything to get some shut eye, and to see you again, but now he just felt silly for waking you up for no good reason.
“Nothing happened, but I—I couldn’t sleep for shit. So I just thought—“ he rubbed his brow and gave a halfhearted shrug. “I don’t know, it’s stupid. I wasn’t thinkin’ straight and I just wanna be laid up with you. I really didn’t mean to wake you up and I can leave if—“
“It’s okay! It’s okay,” you cut his rambling short and opened up your blankets, scooting over to make room for him. “Come on.” Even in your drowsy state you could tell he was getting flustered trying to explain himself.
“Oh thank God,” he said beneath a breath as he shuffled his jacket and shoes off, eagerly slipping into your bed beside you.
You shifted back onto your side like you were before and pulled the blankets over the both of you, his arm instantly slinking around your waist to pull your body into his, your back against his chest.
“I love you so much.” he sighed tiredly.
He buried his face into the crook of your neck, taking a deep breath in through his nose just as your hand came up behind you to caress the top of his head. His behavior made it seem as if he hadn’t seen you in weeks; like he was trying to refresh his mind of every aspect of you.
“I love you too… Miles, are you sure you’re alright?” you asked, not yet all the way convinced.
“Mhm. Just needed to be with you.” he hummed, his words muffled as he pulled you closer.
“What about your mom? I don’t want her to be worried.”
He grunted at that, his response slurred and barely audible. “She know where I’m at.”
His fingers slipped under the waistband of your cotton sleep-shorts, hand traveling to the round of your lower stomach and resting over it. Why guys were so obsessed with the extra weight girls held there was still an anomaly to you. You couldn’t wrap your mind around it, but he always threw a fit if you didn’t let him hold you like that so you allowed it.
“Goodnight, Miles.” You murmured into the stillness of your room.
Your eyes opened after receiving no response from him, and you were barely able to turn your head to look over your shoulder since his own was occupying the space there.
“Miles?” you questioned gently.
Your answer came in the form of faint snores and slowed breathing from the boy who was knocked out behind you, a smile inching onto your lips at how quickly he dozed off. You let your eyes flutter to a close, ready to fall asleep again, but this time in the arms of your favorite person.
6K notes · View notes
evilminji · 10 months
Text
Okay, as I have mentioned, I'm Ace AF. And you know that plot line in kids cartoons where the alien or foreign Warrior Royalty just sort of *violently kicks down door in full armor* "We Will Marry."? I?? Always said:
"Sure!" (#OhThankFUCK!)
Like what do you mean "No"? The powerful, attractive, monarch that is very into you has travel a great distance JUST to marry you! Now you don't have to date! They seem nice! You can skip the whole "trying to find a life partner" awkwardness.
So, Sudden New Fiancee(tm) how we doing this? Blended customs? Two weddings? One in your peoples traditions, one in mine? Should we invite your family? Tell me more about yourself.
God, this solves just... SO MUCH for me? No having to make small talk. No "do they like me?" Or "am I reading the signs here right?" No failed dates! It's positively ideal! AND they announced why they were qualified, in a VERY impressive show of power and prestige, when they arrived! Good lineage AND accomplished!! Very nice.
Don't get why everyone's so upset.
Sure the "we leave at once" thing that usually follows would have to be discussed, but that's what you DO as spouses. Really guys, it's like you think I'm incapable of common sense here.
And you know who probably agrees with me? Damian Wayne.
Hell is other people, INDEED. You expect him to just... randomly go up to people and try Courting them? What do you MEAN it's "creepy" to compile portfolios on eligible individuals of worthy bloodlines? How ELSE is he supposed to know if they are worth attempting to talk too?!
There are BILLIONS of humans on this gods forsaken rock, Richard! Is he supposed to just GUESS? Gamble and hope for LUCK? This is a MARRIAGE not a "best friends club"!
Then? Danny showes up.
Gotham heard her baby talking. Heard her KING being harassed by clearly plotting Observants and power hungry ghosts MANY times his age. Connected some dots. Formed themselves a new OTP.
Danny says "Fuck It". Worst he can say is No. According to Gotham, he is neither Shy not the meek obedient sort. Is in fact, VERY stabby. So if he's not interested he'll no doubt be BRUTALLY clear about that.
So? Danny gets Fright Knight. Go get him a horse. Someone fetch Cujo some armor. He's been told the guy like weapons and animals.
TIME TO BE IMPRESSIVE.
He goes FULL Regalia. Armor of solid night sky. Cape of frost and stardust. Crown like crack in reality itself, through which the cosmos gleam and shift. He gets a horse from the far frozen. They're wooly and carnivorous. Gets THE most impressive sword he can find to wear.
It's gonna be a gift, since he doesn't need it.
He does the whole "rend the skies open" thing. Fan fair and knights. Every title he's ever been given, no matter how embarrassing he find them in reality. And announces his intentions. Declares that ONLY Damian Wayne, aka. Robin, is WORTHY to Marry Him. And (in the traditional Ghost proposal of "either accept or tell me to fuck off" /w violence) Demands Damian accept his offer of Marriage.
Right there.
IN THE WATCHTOWER.
In front of EVERYBODY. And yes, ESPECIALLY the Bats. Who are making glitching, vaguely threatening DEMONIC NOISES. Because? You... you THREATEN the BABY? Death. Ten thousand years DEATH.
People are :O ing and backing away from the visible heatwave of unadulterated FURY being put off by Batman. Danny is nano-second from every bone his ANCESTORS had being reduced to a fine paste.
Then? Damian consider him... considers the sword being thrust in his direction, still held aloft in a steady and armored hand... contemplates those titles for a second...
And goes: "Acceptable. Very well, but I have demands."
N..... Nani the FUCK? Says local Bat-Dad. No??? You are NOT GETTING MARRIED.
Try to stop him. He very obviously IS, according to Damian, the man brought him a kick ass sword and has a giant green dog. Is the king of an ENTIRE REALITY. Yes, he realizes he probably COULD do better... but frankly? This one's cute. But if it upset you so... extended engagement. There. Happy?
NO! Because the JLA Dark are LOSING THEIR SHIT. Damian is still UNDERAGE. We don't even know how OLD this being is! NO MARRIAGE.
Damian is unimpressed. A whole six months? That he's likely already LIVED thanks to various timeloops, temporal shenanigans, and reality warping bits of fuckery? You're reaching.
Just? Marriage Meet Cute.
@hdgnj @ailithnight @the-witchhunter @nerdpoe
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sahkuna · 2 months
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needed to write a drabble about sukuna being that hot older brother you always look forward to seeing at your best friend’s (yuuji) house... eee!
UPDATE: there’s a FOLLOW UP to this drabble
content warning: f! reader, smut, childhood "friends" with benefits, best friend's brother trope! oh and modern au:]
he’s only a couple years older than you, (by three years, if you want to be exact) and you’ve been acquainted with itadori yuuji's older brother— sukuna— multiple times.
whether it was through seeing him over at the itadori household during high school or being invited out by yuuji to sukuna’s new place a couple years after college— sukuna had always been a lingering presence in your life.
your relationship hadn’t been anything more than exchanging brief pleasantries whenever needed. until things start growing more suggestive as the two of you grew older.
it wasn't planned. the kissing, the meet-ups late at night, him deliberately lingering around when everyone else seems to have left the room. there were too many incidents to recall.
but one thing lead to the next and...
the slapping of skin on skin can be heard throughout his apartment, echoing against the walls of the vacant hallway that leads towards the doorway of sukuna's apartment.
tucked away behind his bedroom door, is quite an obscene scene. with your chest pressed against his mattress and face covered deep into his pillows, there's only so much left for you to do as you stick your ass up to receive the rough pounding from sukuna's thick cock.
the coherent sentences you used to form a few moments prior have slowly turned into a series of whimpers and broken moans all while sukuna has a tight grip on your waist pulling your ass flush against his hips so he can bury himself deep into your sweet cunt— unprotected.
you forgot how this came to be, of who convinced who to dip their toes into the world of sex with each other but you're damn glad that it happened.
"oh god," you blurt out between cries. sukuna's left hand drags down away from your waist, and finds its way toward your clit. "ah—! please, don't stop! that's… so good, so goo—ah!" you just about lose your mind when his fingers tease your sensitive clit in slow, torturous circles.
there's a mean, wicked smile tugging at the corner of sukuna's lips. his brows rise in amusement at how quick you are to fall apart in his hands— quite literally at that, too. "think you can hurry up and finish before your friend comes back?" sukuna asks, tone unwavering despite how his hips thrust into you repeatedly.
ah. your friend. his brother. the fact that he doesn't even bother to address him by name and does it dismissively would have you chiding him to be nice— but you're too far gone to digest what he said.
between the touching and the fullness of his dick pressing and rubbing against the walls of your pussy, you squeeze your eyes shut and wail. "please, please— i think i'm—!" your hand shoots down to hold onto his wrist. but you don't pull it away from you, despite how overstimulated you feel. "shit!"
when sukuna pulls out briefly to rub the head of his cock against your slit, you whine at the loss of him. with shaky hands you press your palms against his mattress, and make a weak attempt to change positions onto your back.
"please, put it back in!" he's definitely gonna make fun of you for begging later. but perhaps a higher power decided to have mercy on you— just this once— because sukuna's back between your thighs and stretching your hole.
fuck him, fuck him, fuck him and his stupid, girthy cock. and the smug ass expression he's probably got on his face right now.
despite that all, you wanted to kiss him. just the thought of it was—
the harsh sound of a fist pounding at his front door tears you from your thoughts. you're about to question who it is until you hear a voice from the other side that you know all too well.
"answer your phone, sukuna!" wait, why's yuuji here? "if you're gonna invite me to your place, at least do it when you don't have some girl over!"
"are you crazy?!" your voice is sharp, incredulity seeps through your tone.
with his dick still submerged in you and his hips rolling at a languid pace tacked with the sound of the gentle plap-ing of his skin against yours, — as if his fucking brother wasn't technically right the fuck there— he offers you a mere shrug. "forgot i invited him over."
and fuck him for being your best friend's older brother.
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back2bluesidex · 11 months
Text
Seven Days a Week - JJK (18+)
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Pairing: Jungkook X Fem!Reader
Theme: PWP, SMUT, Fluff if you squint
Wordcount: 1k
Summary: Jungkook promised himself that he will be fucking you right seven days a week.
Warnings: Soft sex, vanilla sex, missionary position, Jungkook is soft with her but kinda persistent (in a good way), creampie, unprotected sex (wrap it up). NSFW!!
Minors are not allowed in this blog!!
A/N: Permanent Taglist is now updated. Also, I hope you are suffering with me.
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“Jungkook… I am still sore from last night.” You breathe out, voice barely a level above of what they call a whisper. 
‘Oh yeah? Then should I go slow right now?” Jungkook’s voice gets muffled as he nips on the juncture of your neck and shoulder. His hands are lost under the blanket, tracing the lines of your body ever so gently. 
“What I am saying is- ah” you get interrupted as Jungkook grabs your left inner thigh and squeezes it hard enough to make your core leak instantly. He really knows your body too well. 
“What I am saying is” you attempt again, “we could skip fucking today.” 
“If it’s what you want then we won’t fuck today.” Jungkook replies. His lips do an incredible job in leaving wet kisses all over your throat and collarbone. 
“But baby-” his hand now hovers above your wet core as he works his way to cup your heat through the thin material of your panty, “-your cunt says otherwise. I think it’s begging for some attention.” 
You let out a low moan before playfully scoffing at your unbearably handsome boyfriend, “is that so? Or is it your morning boner that needs some attention?” 
“I think both of us are at the same place, baby. So let’s help each other out, yeah?” he gets up from his position, taking his hands and mouth away from you for a bit. Reaching for the sheets, he throws the blanket off of your naked body and hovers above you. 
“You are very sly, Jungkook.” You smirk at him. 
“Nope. I am just devoted to you. And my devotion is deeper than the ocean.” he replies briefly before reaching down and kissing your mound through the lace of your underwear. His teeth do their job of grabbing the hem of the panty, pulling that down to your ankles and leaving your glistening cunt exposed for his view. 
“Fuck. So fucking gorgeous.” He talks to your cunt. His left thumb files on autopilot and lands on your clit. He runs his thumb up and down through your slippery folds. You murmur his name shamelessly as he puts the pad of his thumb flat on your clit before proceeding to rub gentle circles on it. 
One of the many things you love about Jungkook is his duality. Last night he fucked you dumb, it was animalistic to say the least. But right now he is softer than he has ever been. He gently handles you as if you’re a fragile porcelain doll. 
Jungkook warps his mouth around one of your nipples, sucking on it lazily. He flicks the hardened nub with his tongue and you lose your shit a bit. 
His middle finger probes into your entrance. You hiss at the contact. 
“Does it hurt?” he asks, staring at your face while his mouth stays close to your nipple. 
“A bit. But I can take it.” You reply, giving him a small smile. 
“Good girl.” he places a soft kiss on the swell of your left tit. His finger plunges right in you as he teases your walls for a bit. 
“Do you think you can take me in now?” Jungkook questions. You nod in affirmation. 
He climbs off the bed in order to strip his boxers off. 
You take the opportunity to admire this marvelous piece of art disguised as a man. His dark disheveled hair falling on his neck, that lip piercing that makes you wanna taste the metal every now and then, that build chest and toned abs that make you weak on your knees, every single thing about him complement the way he carries himself. He knows his effects all too well and the smug confidence makes you fall for him harder and harder. 
Your boyfriend starts hovering above you while positioning his cock right in front of your entrance.
“Tell me if it hurts, okay?” he breathes out, putting the tip of his cock inside your hole. 
“Okay.” you reply. Your hands find their way around Jungkook’s neck as you pull him down for a kiss. 
The kiss is soft and slow, neither rushed nor hungry, and you love it. 
He slides inside you easier than your anticipation. He gives you time to adjust before he starts moving slowly. His body crashes yours as he puts his weight down on you. 
Grabbing your thighs, he locks those around his torso to bottom you out. His pace gets faster with each passing second but it doesn’t get too overbearing. You feel nice, you feel way too good, oh sweet lord, you feel heavenly. This is the first time you are having slow sex with your boyfriend ever since you got together. 
Honestly, you both are too kinky to have vanilla sex and the prospect of the same never really amazed you. But right now, you can’t seem to wrap your head around the pleasure you are feeling despite the complete lack of dirty words, groping, grabbing, and so on. 
You feel the familiar heat building at the bottom of your stomach. 
“Jungkook, I am close.” You whisper in his ear, which is right beside your lips as your boyfriend is way too busy sucking bruises on your skin.
“Hold it for a bit. Let’s cum together.” he mumbles against your throat. 
With a roll of his hip, he hits your g-spot and you feel your eyes rolling at the back of your head. 
“Now.” Jungkook commands and you cum on his cock. A second later he fills your cunt with his hot white disposal that messily runs down your inner thigh and drops on the bed sheet.  
Both of you pant for a bit and then you manage to voice, “Do you really have to fuck me everyday?” 
“Well, I promised myself, I’ll be fucking you right seven days a week.” he smirks.
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Taglist:
@phenomenalgirl9 @variety-is-the-joy-of-life @soraviie @sukunabitch @chimchimmarie, @coffeedepressionsoup, @meowstake, @vonvi-blog, @nochuel
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foreingersgod · 21 days
Text
Let’s Stay Home (PT 2) . EE
pairing: emily engstler x reader
synopsis: see part 1
A/N: THIS IS ANOTHER POOR ATTEMPT OF ME WRITING SMUT, I APOLOGIZE FOR HOW BAD THIS IS LOL!!
MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DNI
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she was restless all night. you could tell from the way her hands shook when she poured your glass of wine and from the way her legs bounced under the table. her hands refused to leave the plushness of your thighs the entirety of dinner, strong and lengthy fingers scrunching at the fabric of your dress. you tired to act nonchalant about it, wanting to have a nice dinner with your girlfriend. but the more she kept dropping suggestive little comments and touching you discreetly, the more you tried to get out of that restaurant as quick as possible.
the wine turned sour and your meal became bland the more you had to endure emily’s torture. it didn’t sit right with you that you were the only one being taunted, so you decided to do a bit of teasing of your own. throughout the night, you’d do small things that you knew would get a rise out of her.
you started out with cluelessly playing with your hair, something that had her constantly distracted. then you’d purposely lean your elbows on the table which pushed out your cleavage ever so slightly. emily, sitting next to you at the table, would hardly be able to finish her sentence as the tops of your breasts came into view. it was almost becoming too easy at this point. then, to be extra cruel, you’d run the toe of your heel up her leg. it sent shivers up emily’s arms as she watched you do it, the end of your dress hiking up your leg as you moved your foot up and down. her mind kept reverting back to earlier that night, when you guided her hand across the intricate lace of your new lingerie. thoughts of ripping that dress right off of you replayed over and over, something she had every intention of doing.
she tried her best to seem unbothered, like you had done when she couldn’t keep her hands off you, but she was failing miserably. her hand would often find its way to her mouth, biting on her knuckles to ground herself. you had fucked her up beyond belief and you hadn’t even laid a finger on her. she was a mess for the remaining moments of dinner, couldn’t even take the last bite from her plate before she was hailing over the waiter and paying the check. although she was more than eager to get you back home, wanting to take off that stupid fucking dress that caused this whole thing in the first place, she kept her composure as she guided you out to the car.
“you’re a fuckin tease,” she said as the doors to the car shut, you were already doing up your seat belt “d’you know that?”
“i don’t know what you’re talking about, em” but you did. you knew exactly what she was referring too.
“you’re in for it when we get home” she implied, muttering under her breath.
“that attitude isn’t going to get you that surprise” you chimed, watching as her hands gripped the steering wheel suddenly “may i remind you?”
she said nothing, only shaking her head and jutting her tongue across the inside of her cheek. she did up her own seatbelt quickly before speeding out of the parking lot to get home. she didn’t now how much longer she could last.
you considered being a bit nicer for the car ride home, but something in you just couldn’t resist messing with emily a tiny bit more. she just looked too good over there in the drivers seat. her hands grasped the steering wheel, making her veins bulge ever so slightly as she drove. her blazer had been discarded to the back seat which left her in a plain white button up. the sleeves were rolled up to her elbow, displaying her toned muscles. she looked positively irresistible, there was no chance you were stopping any time soon.
you snaked your hand over the car console, fingertips lightly gliding over to emily’s thigh. your hand rested on her legs, positioned in dangerous territory. your touch hovered over where she needed you most. you felt her tense up, shifting in her seat and spreading her legs open more. you began to run your hand up and down her thigh painfully slow, making her jerk her hips into you. a satisfied smirk toyed at your lips as you kept your gaze on the road in front of you. you could feel her eyes shift to you and then the road then back to you again.
“i’m serious, ma” she croaked “stop teasing me”
“m’just tryna get you warmed up baby” you stated, stopping the motion of your hand with a gentle pat “relax”
she felt like all the air had been knocked out of her, words becoming caught in her throat before she could muster a response. a faint groan emitted from her lips when you continued the soothing movements of your hand. it was impossible for her to say anything the rest of the ride home, too busy imagining what she was going to do to you when you got inside.
the car pulled to an abrupt stop as emily pulled into the drive way. her buckle was undone in seconds, turning off the ignition and bolting to your side of the car. she opened your door, offering her hand to you to help you out. you smiled sweetly at her as you accepted it and followed her inside your shared home.
you weren’t able to turn the lights to kitchen on before you felt familiar hands on you waist, soft lips meeting with the skin of your neck. you could feel the tension between the two of you as you sighed deeply, reaching helplessly for the light switch.
“leave it” she demanded, pushing your hand away from the light switch as she guided you towards the stairs. she couldn’t wait another second to get you into bed.
“em,” you muttered, tilting your head to the side to allow her more access to kiss down your shoulder.
“cant wait to get you out of this fucking dress” she said as you approached the door of your bedroom “i believe i’m owed a surprise, am i not?”
once you had made it inside, you were instantly hit with the soft glow of the moonlight that flooded through the window. you turned around to face emily, admiring her features through the dimly lit room. she was breathtaking, hair pulled back, shirt already half way unbuttoned. she wasn’t lying-she really couldn’t wait.
“maybe…” you licked your lips, slipping off your heels and reaching behind you to undo the zipper of your gown “you’ll have to come and find out”
something in emily switched, like she was being granted something that she had been waiting for for centuries. in lighting speed, she had closed any space between the two of you, pulling you flush against her. her lips met with yours hungrily, tongue sliding into your mouth as you groaned deeply. the kisses were sloppy and wet, but certainly passionate. she reached behind you to push your hands away from the zipper, taking the liberty to do it herself. without pulling away from you, she delicately tugged the satin fabric down your body, letting it pool at your feet.
“hope you like it,” you smiled against her, moving your head back to allow her to view your stripped figure “picked it out just for you”
weeks ago, you’d purchased the most gorgeous set of lingerie as a small gift for yours and emily’s anniversary. it was a dainty little set, red and lacey and tight. the bra was strapless and quite sheer, adorned with thin lace flowers. the matching thong was similar in design, the crimson material hugging your ass in the most flattering way. you remembered trying it one when you had got home while emily was away at practice, you had never felt so beautiful in your life.
“oh my god” her gaze dropping as she took a step away from you. her jaw slacked, eyes blown wide with lust as she took you in “jesus fucking christ baby”
“is it ok?” you asked innocently, wanting to hear her say it aloud.
“is it ok?” she scoffed, shepherding you towards the bed. you felt the backs of your knees meet with the foot of the bed, making you stumble slightly “baby, it’s more than ok, you look fucking stunning”
with a tender nudge, she pushed you onto the bed, forcing you to sit on the linen duvet. you leaned back onto your elbows and spread your legs to make room for her. she moseyed in between your legs, unbuttoning the rest of her white button up in the process, eyeing you up and down. she shrugged off her shirt, now fumbling with the buckle of her belt and the clasp of her dress pants. you watched impatiently, wanting her hands on you as soon as possible.
her now naked figure hovered over you, knee slotting in between your legs. she leaned down far enough to where her lips were inches away from yours. you closed your eyes, whimpering as you bucked your hips to try and create friction between your clothed cunt and her bare thigh.
“em, please” you moaned.
“please what?” she smirked, hands planted on either side of your torso to keep her above you.
she moved away from your face, now shifting to kiss along the exposed parts of your body. her lips left messy kisses along your collarbone, then to the tops of your breasts where she left deep purple marks along your skin. she exhaled breathlessly as she reached your bra, staring at the way your nipples hardened through the thin lace. she brought a hand up behind you to unclasp the bra in one fell swoop, allowing the beautiful fabric to cascade down your chest. satisfied, she wrapped her lips around your nipple, her hand kneading at your other tit. you gasped at the sensation, your own hand finding its way to the back of her head. she switched to the other one, tongue swirling across the pebbled bud. but she only stopped when she heard you, your meek voice echoing off the walls.
“please touch me-don’t stop”
those three words were all she needed to hear, her gateway into complete bliss. she pushed off of the bed to kneel in front of you, hands gliding down the sides of your body until they reached the waistband of your panties.
“anything for you”
you looked down, eyebrows knit together in anticipation as you felt emily’s hot breathe against your core. she looked at you through hooded eyes, biting down on her lip as she took in such a beautiful sight: you laid on the bed, practically naked and begging for her to touch you. her fingers hooked under the band of your underwear and tugged gingerly.
“can i?” she asked. you nodded vigorously in return.
without hesitation, she began to pull your panties down your legs, tossing them to the side. the coolness of the air hits you quickly enticing a small jolt from you. emily ran her tongue over the top row of her teeth, leaning back on her heels to admire that state of your aching pussy. you were already soaked for her, arousal quite literally oozing from you, which most definitely left a noticeable spot on your underwear throughout dinner.
“so fucking pretty, this pussy” she cooed, giving your thighs a small massage before running a finger through your folds. you groaned, not content with her reservedness “this all f’me?”
“yea, em-all for you”
she placed various kisses to your inner thighs before turning her attention to where you had been pleading for her to touch. fingers spreading you open, you felt her tongue come into contact with you. she licked a deep stripe up your pussy, attaching her lips to your clit as she sucked slowly. you moaned loudly, fingernails finding her scalp and gripping the roots of her hair. she took this as a sign of endearment, slipping down to sink the length of her tongue in your throbbing hole.
“holy shit-” you cried, hearing the obscene noises emitting from your pussy. the way her tongue swirled in your wetness, provoking the wettest squelching noises that had you at a loss for words.
“that’s it, ma” she inserted a finger into you, feeling the way your body tensed upon the feeling. you tightened around her finger as you breathed loudly into the humid room “that’s my good fucking girl”
she watched as your back arched, perky tits pointed to the ceiling and your head digging farther back into the mattress. god you were unbelievable. she added another finger to you, making a small scissoring motion to lure you to your orgasm. she found herself moaning into you, completely lost in the taste of you. she didn’t think she could ever get enough of it, wishing she could lay between your legs forever. the pace of her fingers sped up and she could sense herself becoming increasingly wet the more you moaned out in intense pleasure. she was eating you out like it was her last meal, sucking and licking every inch of you until your body began to heave, insinuating you were getting close.
“oh baby, yes” you gripped the back of her head harder “don’t stop, em, i’m gonna-oh my-i’m gonna cum”
you humped her face vigorously, feeling your slick coating her mouth and chin. it was like you had no control of your body with the way your hips moved back and forth. you could feel your high approaching quickly as emily continued to devour you.
“i-i’m so close” your words began slurring together.
“i know” emily curled her fingers into you, hitting that delicious, spongy spot inside of you “i know”
your eyes rolled to the back of your head, knowing the familiar feeling that was beginning to build up. her tongue and fingers kept their speed, making you overwhelmed with ecstasy. emily felt your legs starting to shake and noticed how your breathe became staggered.
“you got it,” she coaxed you “cum for me, come on, give it to me”
you let out a lewd and obscene moan as you reached your high, cumming on her face promptly. they approached near sobs as the pleasure washed over you, transcending your whole body. emily wasted no time in lapping up your juices, catching every last drop of your release. her tongue cleaned you up as you sunk into the bed, recovering from your orgasm.
emily got off of her knees and joined you on the bed as you scooted up to lay against the plush pillows. she laid next to you, bringing you into her bare chest, feeling the rapid beat of your heart. she raked her fingers through your hair as you smiled drowsily, still on cloud nine.
“you did so good, baby” she pressed her lips to the top of your head, grinning from ear to ear as she thought about how much she loved you “so so good”
you hummed in response, lifting your head to look at her. you returned her smile while drawing yourself away from her. ignoring the trembling of your legs, you hoisted yourself to straddle emily. she looked at you confused as her hands instinctively rested on the dips of your waist. what a vision you were, tall and proud and positively glistening in your own sweat.
“what’re you doing?”
long, nicely manicured nails left pinkish marks along emily’s skin as you trailed them up her stomach and over her chest. she squeezed her eyes shut when she felt your fingers gently scrape over her tits. she let out a faint ‘fuck’ as you advanced to her neck, wrapping around it and tightening your grip softly.
“don’t think i’m gonna let our anniversary end without returning the favor, em”
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
A/N: this is cringy and bad and i’m so sorry lol :’)
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ficmenrhot · 6 months
Note
Hii could u do a smut where reader calls finnick ‘Finny’. Like she moans it out while they’re yk and it absolutely makes him feral. And he’s all like:
“What was that sugar? Say it again.” Etc.
Say it Again
Pairing: Soft dom Finnick x shy fem!reader
Notes: Dom/sub themes, voice kink, praise kink, p in v, slight corruption kink, Finnick Odair is such a munch. Minors DNI
A/N: I haven’t had the motivation to write and I’ve still got a few requests in my drafts, I’m really sorry if they’re yours. Hope I hadn’t lost my touch
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Finnick was your first everything- first relationship, first kiss….the first one to break you in- and quite frankly, he intends to be your last too. He loves how he gets to be the only one to teach you all of these things- to be the person who corrupts your innocence, explores different ways to give you pleasure, and work your body better than you can.
Finnick is always sure to praise you during sex to ensure you’re fully comfortable with him. Sex was never really an intimate or enjoyable thing for him before he had met you, so Finnick wants to make sure you are given the experience he never did. More than anything else, Finnick would like to hear your be more vocal during sex.
Although you occasionally make a few noises here and there, letting out small moans and soft whimpers (because let’s be real, it’s impossible to keep quiet when the Finnick Odair is railing you), you often try to conceal your sounds because you feel a bit insecure about your voice. Unbeknownst to you, Finnick would like nothing more than to hear you moan out his name and to tell him how good he makes you feel. If only you know the ego boost it would give him and how his heart would race at a single comment.
This night, Finnick has you laid out on your shared bed, the mattress soft yet supporting underneath you two as he thrusts deeply into you at a steady pace. His warm mouth is latched onto the crook of your neck, sucking and nipping, sure to leave love marks on your skin as one of his hand reaches for your clit to trace lazy circles. The sex, as usual, is phenomenal and your back is arched in pleasure, legs folded as they hang over his sculpted shoulders.
A few soft whimpers fall from your mouth involuntarily at the undeniable pleasure you’re feeling and you bite down on your bottom lips to control your noises like always. Finnick cocks his head, his mouth momentarily detaching from your neck as his lips form that signature smirk which you are so familiar with. You’re confused as of what Finnick is doing but you’re way too cockdrunk to care. His thick and lengthy cock is pounding into you so well, grazing over your cervix with every thrust and you’re surprised that it isn’t bruised by now.
Finnick grabs a pillow from the side of the bed and swiftly places it under the small of your back as he lifts you up and places you back down with ease. Your mouth falls open and you forget about controlling your volume, a loud moan mixed with a gasp leaving your mouth. The pillow has put you in an even better position, raising your hips slightly so that each of Finnick’s thrust is angled to hit that spongey spot inside of you which makes your toes curl in pleasure and back arch further.
“Hmm honey, you like that, huh?” Finnick teases after seeing your reaction, and you can only nod as you attempt to babble something incoherently.
“F-fuck…Finny, s-so good” you mumble, your mind in a state of haze right now.
Hearing your words and the nickname that just fell out of your mouth, Finnick’s eyes immediately light up and an even bigger smirk replaces the former one on his face. Although you don’t realise in the moment that Finnick has bitten his lips at your comment, you sure can feel his reaction to it as his thick cock pulsates in arousal, causing your warmth to tighten around him, feeling every vein and curve.
“What was that sugar?” Finnick chuckles both smugly and proudly, “say it again for me”
“I-I….”
Only then do you realise what you’ve said and your cheeks immediately turn pink, a flustered look appearing on your face which Finnick finds so, so adorable. You struggle to find the right words to say, only blinking shyly as you attempt to cover your face, but Finnick pulls your hands away as he stares down at you with the same smirk.
“Don’t be shy honey, your whimpers and moans are music to my ears……besides, your voice turns me on so much, you have no idea.”
Finnick whispers into your ears, and you feel a tingling sensation in your stomach, ‘butterflies’ Finnick calls them. You blink, not knowing that that is what Finnick feels about the sounds you make, and it makes you feel better.
“Now..I’ll ask you again, sugar, what is it you called me, hmm?”
Finnick hums as he cocks his head with a small teasing smile, waiting for an answer.
“…Finny. I called you Finny..”
“Good girl.”
God save Finnick Odair from the things he is going to do to you.
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A/N: to whoever had requested this, hope this is what you had wanted <3 Once again, all likes, reblogs, and follows are appreciated, so are comments!
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lundenloves · 1 year
Text
fatherhood II
*Standing on a soap box, pointing at every one of you.* I will not be responsible for the tears passed in this piece of written emotional catastrophe. It simply had to be done. Simon meeting his daughter for the first time. It's canon. Leave me alone! *Runs away*
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↳ no warnings | f!reader | 1.2k
part one | dad!simon masterlist
i may as well be running from lions at this rate, i cannot believe this. yes i can. no one talk to me or ask me the colour of anything for at least twelve days. sigh.
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Having a baby sleeping on his chest was not on Simon Riley’s bingo cards for this year. His own baby at that.
Ironically, it was like learning to walk all over again. Having a little person who was completely dependent on you was something he couldn’t fathom at all until the time came. And boy, did it come, straight to the deep end he was.
It started when he was stood on the doorstep to his own home, two days late, taking deep breaths and roughing his hair in attempts to alleviate the bubbling anxiety. He was mentally beating himself up for the fucking career he’d chosen, and the hardships that came with time. Time he wouldn’t get back.
“Fuck sake, Simon.” Came a mutter to himself, slapping one hand of motivation to his cheek before reaching to turn the handle. Baby cries were audible from outside, his jaw tightening at the sound. He hadn’t been home in two weeks. Many an argument had passed to get time off although it just simply wasn’t an option. Forcing his wife to give birth alone bar her family. Christ.
He stepped into the house quietly, as if subconsciously on a fucking stakeout. A shaky sigh came when he’d leant against the wall, dropping his bag and shutting the door behind him.
It was a lot and he hadn’t even met her yet.
His daughter.
A rush of guilt panged in his chest and forced the steps he took toward the living-room. His broad shoulders filled the doorframe, in complete contrast to the tiny baby who lay in your arms.
His cold heart attempted to ignite a spark at the sight, kickstarting a warmth that didn’t quite come. Not until you had caught sight of him and instantaneously teared up. It was like all hell had broken loose in his chest, experiencing emotions he hadn’t felt in years. Still, he couldn’t speak, nor move.
You brought her to him, standing up and pressing your forehead against his chest. “You don’t need to say anything.” He nodded quietly, looking down at the baby in your arms. The inner corners of his eyebrows had raised, jaw tensing and loosening between seconds.
You could practically see the thoughts race through his mind. Good and bad.
“Stop worrying, you’re home now.” His shirt had a central wet patch from your silent tears.
You weren’t going to tell him how it was hell, how awful it was that he wasn’t around, and just how much you cried the night you got home with her. Welcomed by an empty house and darkness.
“Simon.” You said weakly, looking up at him and catching the gloss of his dark eyes. He was just as devastated about the whole thing. “Don’t think about it. It’s over. We have her, she’s safe, I'm safe.”
He nodded slowly, eyes unmoved from the baby below him. “Do you want to hold her?” Your voice came as a whisper, aware of his anxieties.
“I don’t know how.” He cleared his throat, looking back up to you. The hardness in his eyes was still there, although exposed by the sheen of upset that threatened to spill. You’d never seen him cry. Not once in the seven years of being together.
You smiled a little at him, a quivering one at best. “You just have to support her head.” Your arms lifted toward his, lightly adjusting his positions before handing your daughter toward her father.
And fuck, did it hit you then.
Stepping back, you made an effort to mentally photograph the scene in front of you. His eyes cast down to the baby in his arms, holding her as if she could break any second. The large palm of his hand was bigger than her whole body, supporting her with his arm although she barely used a forearm's worth of space. Her little hands raised upward, entirely relaxed in his arms as opposed to the crying he had walked in on.
His energy had entirely calmed her down.
“How do you feel?” You sucked your lips inward, both hands on your head to calm the maddening amount of emotion running through your stomach.
His eyes remained fixed on his daughter, still frozen in the position you had put him in. “I don’t know.” He admitted, voice as deep as ever although it had a strain to it.
You nodded. “That’s okay.”
The two of you shared a silence for a minute or two, just entirely in the moment for your daughter and the small babbles she made every now and then. The only consistent sound was her breathing, only audible for the dead silence in the house.
He shifted, “Are you alright?”
You rubbed your arm, looking up at him to find his eyes already on yours. “Mhm.” It was the truth, although he was evidently searching for a different answer. “Just glad you’re home.”
“Have you slept much?”
“Not really. But that’s okay.” The sweet tone of your voice made his shoulders drop, arms relax and his eyes soften. Well, until the baby began to cry and he tensed up all over again, silently panicking while looking to you. “Relax, Si.”
He screwed his face, letting her small hand curl weakly around his finger in hopes she would stop crying. “She’s fine. You’re fine.” A warm laugh escapes you and a slight smile plays on his lips at the sound. “She’s just tired.”
He pushed his arms toward you, gesturing you take her back. He was tired. You could see it in his eyes, “She’s still crying.”
“I couldn’t hear that.” You quip and he tsks, holding his arms out a little further. “Sit with her, it’ll be easier on your arms.” It was a thing for you, wanting him to have her in his arms as often as he could and not scare himself away.
He gave you a predictably unsure look before moving to the sofa. Each step he took was cautious to not stir her even further, sitting down slowly. You leant against the dining table, looking at him from across the room as he mumbled words you couldn’t hear to the baby in his arms.
When he had relaxed, she too calmed down. The steady breathing of his chest created a rise and fall that drifted her to sleep, small fingers still wrapped around his the best they could.
“Are you alright if I shower?”
He looked up in your direction, a flash of a panic appeared across his features. “What do I do if she wakes up?” His glance directed back down to the unthreatening baby in his arms.
“Just talk to her, like you just did.” You walked over, leaning down over the back of the sofa to press a kiss to his cheek. “I know it’s hard, but don’t think about it too much.” Hands placed on his shoulders, massaging into his collarbones.
He hummed in response.
“I’ll be ten minutes.”
Simon only lasted three. Three minutes of staring down at his daughter, alone and full of emotion for her but it wasn’t willing to come out just yet. Fatigue had taken over and by the time you had gotten back, ready to put her down for the night, she was already deep in sleep along with her father.
She was on his chest, arm raised upward to his neck where her tiny fingers touched his skin. His head tilted to the back of the sofa, two hands supporting her while soft snores left him.
Fatherhood.
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reblogs and comments are very much appreciated! i’ll sit in a hole if no one pats me on the head every now and then.
taglist? fill out this form.
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riddlesb1tch · 21 days
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Nature's A Bitch
Azriel x reader
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summary: Reader is on her period and amidst the crankiness due to a lack of sleep and her hormones going haywire, she says something to Azriel she doesn't mean. Now, she has to apologise.
warnings: mentions of blood (only once and nothing gory)
~●○°●○°●○~
You clutched your stomach, groaning in pain as another cramp hit. Earlier in the night, you’d woken up to excruciating pain in your abdomen and had odiously discovered you’d gotten your period. The rest of the night was spent barely getting any sleep, staying in a fetal position in an attempt to relieve the cramping. However, they only seemed to intensify as the night went on. Your only option was to ignore the pain and try to fall asleep. 
It was a Saturday morning when the usual knock sounded on the door. You buried yourself under the covers, groaning, trying to drown out the annoying sound of Azriel knocking on the door. Due to having barely gotten any sleep the previous night, you’d rather never wake up again than be awoken at this hour. Especially knowing what waking up entailed. 
This was routine for the two of you. You and Azriel had been best friends for decades and somewhere along the way, you fell into a routine where Azriel woke you up on days he was home with a hot cup of coffee. The two of you would sit in bed and drink it then head to training.
Of course, this caused both of you to get teased a lot by the rest of IC about each other but you didn't care. It was fun chatting with Azriel about anything and everything over a cup of coffee. Today, though, you just weren’t in the mood or the physical state to wake up. 
By your guess, it was the ass crack of dawn right now, like every single day when he came to wake you. Mother Nature had built a chicken into this male that started cawckawing at the first rays of sunlight. This normally amiable quality of his annoyed the shit out of you today.
The knocking continued on the door but you didn’t respond, doing your best to ignore the sound and sleep again.
“Good morning, sunshine!” Azriel’s voice boomed as he barged into your room.  His thudding footsteps approached the bed before he rolled you over to make space for himself to sit. 
“Brought you coffee,” he said gently. Extra black as you like it.”
You continued ignoring him, hoping he would take the hint and leave you alone for the day. He did not, however, because you could still feel his knee slightly nudging your back as he sat next to you on the bed. Honestly, his presence felt quite nice because suffering all night felt a bit lonely. It was only his relentless attempts at waking you up that nagged you. 
When you didn’t reply, Azriel’s brows furrowed. “Y/n?” He asked, peeling the covers back from your face a little bit. 
You didn’t know why this simple act enraged you so much. It was the mood swings that came with a period but the simple act of Az lifting the covers off your face made you snap. You sat up so fast that Azriel jerked back in surprise, spilling some of the coffee on your covers. 
“What the fuck do you want, Azriel?” you yelled, furiously glaring at Azriel who looked at you stunned. He had never witnessed an outburst like this from you. 
He gaped for a second, then said, “What do you mean? I came to wake you up like I do every morning,” he stated in confusion. 
You shook your head in frustration, massaging your temples to relieve the building headache now. 
“Yeah well maybe I don’t want your ass barging in here every fucking morning to ruin my day,” you said in frustration, pulling the covers back over your head and trying to fall asleep. 
Azriel’s heart dropped all the way to his feet. That was the one sentence he’d dreaded to hear from anyone in the family but it especially stung coming from you. You and Azriel had been there for each other for the longest time. You had been there every single time he felt his inadequacies overtaking his qualities, been there to bring him down from every single nightmare, every reminder of his horrible past. So for him, it felt like having all that information made you realise you didn’t want to be his friend and simply put up with him because you were too kind to hurt him. Well, that had been his suspicion. A suspicion you’d just confirmed. 
You didn’t see the pained look in Azriel’s eyes when you said that, completely oblivious to his inner turmoil of emotions. Some part of him knew you didn’t mean it and were probably just having a bad day. Another, bigger part of him though, was chastising him for being a burden, telling him that he was as unwanted as he’d always thought and now the truth was in front of him. 
He got up from your bed and set the coffee cup on your nightstand. This time, no thudding footsteps were telling you he was walking out of your room. You barely heard the sound of the door closing behind Azriel before you were pulled back into a deep slumber. 
~●○°●○°●○~
You woke up around noon, still in excruciating pain from your cramps. Some part of you wanted to stay in bed, in the comfort of your blankets and the warmth they provided. Eventually, though, the disgust from the blood overtook your need to be comfortable, and you willed yourself out of bed. You took a hot shower, used some muscle relief balm on your back and stomach to relieve the pain, changed into some shorts and an oversized t-shirt, then guzzled down a couple of painkillers from Madja to rid yourself of some of the misery. 
Afterwards, you headed out to eat something. 
Because it was the weekend, most of your family was home. Chatter was heard from the living room: sounds of talking, laughing, dishes clinking, and chairs scraping against the floor. A small smile made it to your face. While the scales of your emotions were tilted more to the negative side during your cycle, the bright sounds of chatter and laughter never failed to lift your spirits a little.
“Good morning, everyone,” you greeted in a much more chirpy mood than earlier this morning. 
“‘Morning’ ended 2 hours ago,” Mor judged.  
You rolled your eyes at the blonde and looked around at everyone in attendance. One person seemed to be missing; the one who was always there if he was home because family mattered to him the most. So when he was absent from family time, you frowned.
“Where’s Az?” you asked. 
“I actually…don’t know,” Rhysand replied, brows furrowing. It was weird that even Rhysand didn’t know where Azriel was since due to his prying nature, he always entered people’s heads and found out what everyone was doing. So if Rhysand was unable to do that, that meant Azriel had blocked him out, which could mean only one thing: he was brooding. 
Without another word to your family, you turned around and headed straight for Azriel’s room. Honestly, chances were low you’d find him there since his favourite place to brood was either the terrace or the bench in front of the Sidra, but given the rest of the family was home, there was a higher chance he’d stay in his room to avoid the risk of people talking to him. 
You gently rapped your knuckles on the door. There was no response, so you tried twisting the door handle. His room was open, as always, so you walked in…into complete darkness. The room was shrouded in shadows running rampant, trying to veil Azriel from whoever may enter the room. 
You practically felt the shadows exhale in relief when you entered as if they’d been waiting for you to come and negate whatever thoughts were running around in their master’s head. 
“Azriel?” you called into the darkness. 
Silently, you closed the door behind you. Azriel would not appreciate more people prying when he was feeling like this. From muscle memory, you took slow and careful footsteps towards the bed. Shadows swarmed you as you walked, brushing your legs as if urging you on. 
Finally, you reached the bed. Your shins hit the mattress and you leaned forward to rest your hands on the bed and feel around to see where exactly Azriel was. Your hand slightly brushed the side of his thigh and you exhaled with relief. Immediately though, that turned into a sharp inhale when Azriel jerked away from your touch. 
That was weird. He’d never done that before. 
Guessing as to which way he was sitting, you settled down next to him on the bed, one leg folded on the bed while the other dangled off the edge. 
“Az?” you called, laying a gentle hand on his shoulder. “What’s wrong, love?” you asked. 
Once again, Azriel turned away from your touch. Your anxiety was growing now as you grew more agitated with not knowing what was bothering him. 
“Talk to me,” you pleaded. “Tell me what’s wrong so I can fix it.” 
“You-” a broken voice came. “You don’t need to pretend to care, Y/n,” Azriel said. 
“‘Pretend to care’ what? What do you mean?” you asked. “Pretend to care about what?” 
“About me,” he sniffled. 
Your heart audibly cracked. 
“Azriel,” you said in a stern voice. “You know I love you. How dare you accuse me of pretending to care about you when you know you’re my best friend.” 
He scoffed and you just knew he rolled his eyes. “Didn’t sound like it this morning,” he said angrily. 
Now you were confused. You thought back to what happened this morning. You recalled Azriel walking in with a cup of coffee. You didn’t like that he was trying to wake you up. And then you said-
Your eyes widened as the realisation dawned on you. 
“Oh Azriel,” you said, at a loss of words to excuse your shitty behaviour. “I- I’m so sorry,” was all you could manage. 
“Just forget about it, Y/n. At least now I know the truth,” he resigned. 
“No,” you stated adamantly. “You don’t know the truth.” 
“Then please, enlighten me. Cause where I’m sitting, it looks like you’ve been putting up with me for the past five decades because you don’t have the guts to tell me that you don’t want to be friends with me!” 
The pain in his voice killed you. 
“Azzy,” you sighed in defeat. “I started my cycle yesterday,” you explained. “I know it doesn’t excuse what I said to you. I just couldn’t sleep the whole night and the thought of getting out of bed was the most painful thing ever so I snapped when you pulled the covers back. I’m sorry, I should have just told you what was going on.” 
As you spoke, you noticed the shadows slowly retreating to their corners. Little by little, you could see Azriel sitting in front of you. Bloodshot eyes, messy hair, and tear-stained cheeks. You felt horrible. You brought a hand up to his face, gently stroking his cheek. 
“Oh Az,” you sighed. 
“Is that true?” he asked, searching your eyes for confirmation. 
“Yes,” you nodded earnestly. “Azzie, there’s no relationship I value more than yours and I would never, ever intentionally do anything to damage it. I would especially never intentionally hurt you. I hate myself for saying what I did. I hope you can forgive me,” you pleaded with him. 
Finally, a small smile appeared on his face. “Of course.” 
You could finally see all of him now. The shadows had completely retreated to their corners save for a couple that remained to stroke your cheek with affection as if thanking you for clearing things up with their master. 
“I love you, Azzie,” you smiled at him. 
“I love you, Y/n,” Azriel said. 
He pulled you into a tight hug, burying his face in your shoulder and clung to you. In that one hug, he communicated what losing you meant for him, and you vowed to yourself to protect this male at all costs.
tags: @berryzxx @thelov3lybookworm @sarawritestories @milswrites
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decayedgloria · 11 months
Text
sundress szn pt. 2
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pt. 2 ft. scaramouche, sandrone, pantalone, and childe
Summer’s finally come, so you decide to wear something that fit the occasion- much to your lover’s excitement.
tags: nsfw under cut, public/semi public sex in almost all of these, I got carried away during pantalone’s, harbingers x afab! Reader (minus signora this time bc I genuinely cannot think of smth for her rn but I can promise in the future that she may be in one of these.), slight ooc maybe? mdni.
word count: ~2.2k, I wrote these half asleep on a nine hour flight these are not going to be proofread
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Scaramouche
This was a good idea. Totally. Sumeru’s just much, much more humid than Snezhnaya, which was something you were willing to get used to. You were absolutely fine. 
How you wished you were right.
Even in the shade of the Grand Bazaar you could still feel the light sheen of sweat begin to form on your skin as you hastily fan yourself, occasionally observing your surroundings for your boyfriend. As a newly-inducted Vahumana student, he was bound to get busy, so it left you with a lot of time on your hands. Too much time. But hey, it got you a new dress so who are you to complain?
It reminded you of when you were both in the Fatui, the Harbinger and his loyal partner, who were too busy to really see each other until he whisked you away to Sumeru. You assumed it would be different this time, but it had dawned on you recently that it would take quite a while to get there (not that it wasn’t deserved, he had a lot to atone for after all.)
But it still disheartened you. You would be lying if you said that it didn’t. You missed his hugs and his presence, no matter how much you annoyed each other you always seemed to find a way to touch each other. And on nights he would be up in the Akademiya studying, leaving you alone in your shared bed, your thoughts wandered to those scarce intimate moments you shared- nights where his chest was pressed against yours, with that stupid smirk on his face as he fucked you silly. Just thinking about those nights made a familiar heat rise in between your legs, making you curse as your cheeks reddened. 
Archons, first the heat, and now this? Scaramouche had better hurry, you felt like you were going to be torched alive at this rate.
Thankfully, you did not need to wait long. Looking into the crowd again, your eyes met with a familiar pair of tired purple ones, much to your delight. You hopped off the bench you sat on and beelined your way to the grouchy purple boy, a smile blossoming on your face as you get closer to him. He doesn’t return the same excitement, content to just catch you in his arms like he always does. You don’t seem to mind, though, as you were too preoccupied with burying your face into his chest.
“Scara…” You whined, pouting your lips. “What took you so long? Do you know how hot it is in here? I almost died.” Expecting a smart retort from him, you were thoroughly surprised at the next words that came out of his mouth.
“What on earth are you wearing?”
There was no malice and spite in his voice, just irritated confusion. Which, in turn, confused you, prompting you to release your position against his chest and stare at him with an eyebrow raised.
“Do you not like it? I got it a while ago.” You hesitantly let go of his embrace, spinning once to let him see the whole dress. It was perfect for a hot day- light and airy, revealing as much skin as possible without spilling everything out. When you turned back to him, his face had gotten redder, but his eyes stayed on you- more specifically, your figure. 
“Aw, what’s got you blushing, Scara?” Your teasing tone was met with a glare, and a pathetic attempt to hide his face by looking away. 
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“So you don’t like my dress?”
“That’s not the problem.” Suddenly, he grabbed your hand and pulled you towards him again, lowering his head so he could murmur into your ear, “I like it too much. Fix it. Now.”
With that, he dragged you to the nearest concealed spot- behind some crates that barely covered the both of you. When you emerged, all that was left of your dress was the tattered skirt that barely hung on to your body as Scaramouche placed his jacket over your top, that same stupid, hot smirk on his face.
Sandrone
Sandrone tried. Really, she did. But she could not help it in the slightest.
The seventh harbinger has a reputation for being a recluse, cooping herself up in her lab toying with her automatons all day. On the rare occasion she did speak to someone, her tone only seemed to indicate annoyance and malice- she didn’t mind since it drove people away. However, things changed the day you were assigned to work under her; suddenly, she didn’t hate the world that much anymore.
Certainly not when you’re dressed like this.
A quick trip to the ruins of Liyue, both as a break and to gather intel, made you a bit… adventurous, with your outfits to say the least. The entire time you had walked around Qiongji Estuary, Sandrone could not help but linger her stare just a little bit longer than usual. Your outfit consisted of a short dress, loosely clinging around your body, but it made you look so alluring in her eyes. A perpetual blush seemed to occupy her face, which you had innocently chalked up to the heat.
As her automatons roam around in search for whatever she had told them to find, Sandrone busied herself under a makeshift tent inspecting what seemed to be an artifact encased in cor lapis, tinkering with the ore as if it were a toy. You were by her side, head on her shoulder, observing your lover with loving eyes. Your subtle touches combined with your warm breathing had already put her on edge, but she continued nonetheless.
However, the last straw came when you stood up a little to grab something on the other side of Sandrone, aptly placing your bosom right in front of her face. So, forgive her for breaking her composure and pulling you back onto the ground, dirtying your dress as she straddles you eagerly while crashing her lips into your own before you could react.
“You’re so fond of distractions…” She said breathlessly, hands all but dying to get your tits out of your dress for her nimble fingers to play with. You moaned in response, a bit taken aback at her suddeness. Looking up at your blushing, desperate girlfriend, you decided to tease her just a little bit.
“I was just trying to help, Sandrone.” Your tone feigned innocence, which only fueled her frustration. She caught your lips with fervor as one hand pinched your nipple, and the other tugged on your hair, all while grinding down on you.
“Shut up and fuck me, please.” 
Pantalone
Pantalone was a man of many talents. One of those talents happens to be spoiling you rotten. Too rotten sometimes. But who were you to complain? The richest man in Teyvat was wrapped around your finger, and you couldn’t help but be a little cheeky and take advantage of that sometimes.
What should’ve been a business trip to Liyue to check the Northland Bank’s activities turned into Pantalone emptying out every boutique in the harbor so you can get a new wardrobe for summer. At one particular store, where there were no other customers besides you and your husband, you had decided to try on some dresses that caught your attention. On one hand, you really did want a few more relaxed additions, but on the other hand, well…
You had emerged from your dressing room not long ago, and yet you were already sat firmly on top of your husband, head in his neck as you try to brace yourself against the waiting room’s couch. Under you, Pantalone only gave you his usual, sly grin as his hands firmly hold you in his lap, keeping you in place as you grind on his ever-growing erection.
“I think this dress looks lovely on you dear.” He whispered, taking in the sight of you writhing on top of him desperately. Chuckling, his hand makes it way all the way to your ass, hiking up the long dress before giving it a smack. You moaned in response, hiding your face in his neck, hands raking over his toned chest.
“You simply look ravishing in it.” He continued his assault on your body, propping you up just a little bit so he had a clear view of your chest, kissing you quickly before delving in between your tits. Archons, he was impatient- he made you impatient. You confess, you did think the dress would get a rise out of him, which was why you picked it first when trying clothes on, but to think he would be this roused by it filled you with a titulating thrill only he was capable of causing.
“Ah- Does the dress make you- ngh… this excited, love?” Despite your teasing words, it was clear that you weren’t the one in control as you rocked your hips to feel even a little bit of relief from the growing ache in between your legs. Pantalone didn’t say anything back, rather he took off his gloves and positioned his fingers over your mouth, commanding you in a husky tone.
“Open up and suck them, darling. I’ll have plenty more for you.”
Childe
“Fuck you mean no?”
“You just aren’t going out like that.” Childe deadpanned, crossing his arms. “It’s a pretty dress for sure though.” The contrasting grin on his freckled face made you want to punch him, though it also illicited some questionable butterflies in your stomach.
Nobody quite knew what you and Childe were. On the surface level, one could assume that you two were just close friends; however, if they took the time to observe how Childe’s touch always lingered for a little too long, or how you stared at him with such bold adoration in your eyes as you smiled at him- it would be quite obvious that there were unspoken feelings for each other somewhere there.
It was quite common for you to visit his office in the Northland Bank like today. You really just wanted to show him the new dress you made for yourself, and figured you could flirt with him a little bit- not that he’d catch the hint. He always did treat you just like a good friend, something that disappointed you a little bit.
Because as it stands, right now, with him towering over you with his arms crossed, a grin on his handsome face- somehow, you’re horny because of this smug bastard. You imagine how good it would be to just smash your lips on his just to shut him up because Archons, is it tempting.
“I’d like to show off what I’ve made for myself,” you huffed at him, pouting. “I’ll go ahead and stroll the streets as I please with or without you then.” You try to turn and leave, expecting him to just laugh and go back to work. However before you could even step towards the door’s direction Childe’s strong hands snaked around your waist, pulling you firmly back.
Without much warning, you fell back into his chest letting out a small yelp. Once you realize the position you were in, you froze- your cheeks heating up an unbearable amount as you try to wriggle away from the (much) stronger man. It only became worse when he placed his lips right on top of your ear, chuckling lowly.
“C’mon… I can’t have all of Liyue see my girl this good.” He remarked lowly, trailing his lips down until they settled on the base of your neck, to which he then placed a gentle kiss. “They might be tempted to steal you away from me, and we can’t have that, can we?.” You’d be lying if you said that didn’t turn you on so fucking much, trying your best to hide it by pulling your legs closer together.
“We aren’t dating though? What do you mean-“ You let out a moan as he started sucking at the same spot, his lips forming a smile as they worked. Your hands flew to his arm on your waist, turning yourself around to meet his gaze. He lifted his head, lips puffy and blue eyes glazed over with lust. 
“Everyone in Liyue knows that we want each other. Why not give in?” He pressed his forehead against yours, lips deliciously close to yours as he placed his hands on your waist. 
“Only if you want to.” Was your sheepish reply, slightly embarassed to be this close to the man you’ve been covering for months. Was it really this easy? Is it just another one of his pranks? You weren’t sure, but at this point you didn’t care much, especially after he launched his lips straight at you in a fervent kiss. His hands lifted you up, haphazardly swiping away everything on his desk and placing you on it while your fingers tangled in his hair.
Both of you fumble with each other’s clothes, but Childe took extra care in taking the sight of your dress halfway off your body, admiring the view. He suddenly brings his hand up to your chest, flicking your nipple. You moan in both surprise and pleasure, burying your face into his bare shoulder.
“Be as loud as you want girlie. I want everyone here to know who’s finally got you.”
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pt 2 is finally out yall i can rest
i wrote these on my way to and from london on the plane and i am sick bro i just wanna sleep (jet lag and chugging redbulls prevent me from catching a break tbh)
hope yall enjoy, this did take a little bit longer to make tho so i apologize for that.
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recklesssturniolo · 6 months
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Hotel - M.S
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Based on a req for reader n Matt having to share a hotel room/bed together, enemies x lovers, dom!Matt, some degrading
NSFW below, leave if you’re a minor (or that bitch from Wattpad you can gtfo)
Finding a hotel this late at night with available rooms was almost impossible, but we got lucky - until Nick announced Matt and I would be sharing a room.
“You’re fucking kidding right? There’s no way I’m sharing a room with him” I yell, glaring at Matt.
“Listen I know it isn’t ideal but it’s just how we’re gonna have to do it. It’s one night you’ll both be fine” Nick sighs.
“About to be the worst night of my life” Matt grumbles.
“Jesus Christ I can’t listen to you two any longer, let’s just all go to our rooms and we’ll leave early tomorrow morning” Chris says.
Everyone nods while Matt and I continue giving each other the death stare. Making it to our room, opening the door and both of us putting down our stuff, pure silence taking over.
“I’m going to change” I announce.
“Good for you” Matt mumbles.
I change in the bathroom into a simple t shirt and shorts. Walking out I feel Matt’s eyes travel up and down my body but choose not to comment on it but notice he had changed as well, leaving him without a shirt on.
Sighing as I got into the bed, I was already annoyed at how much space Matt was taking up.
“Move over for fuck sakes, and stay on your side” I say.
“Trust me I will, I don’t want to be any closer to you than I need to” He shoots back.
Matt glances over at me again before shuffling over, turning the lamp off and getting himself comfortable. I turn so my back is facing him, before attempting to fall asleep myself.
Unaware of how much time had passed, I wake up to Matt’s hand on my hip, his body right against mine. Why the fuck are we even in this position?
“You wouldn’t stop moving your fucking hips and I was freezing so moved over” He grumbles, clearly aware of the fact I had woke up.
“Alright, no need for the fucking attitude” I reply.
“Maybe if you weren’t basically grinding against my dick and giving me a hard on I wouldn’t have to give attitude” He snaps back.
My breath hitches in my throat hearing him say that. Suddenly becoming extremely aware of his dick pressed against my ass.
“Sounds like a you issue” I mumble, glad it was dark so he was unable to see the blush that formed on my face.
“Keep it up and you’ll be a whimpering mess beneath me” He replies.
All it took was that one sentence for me to feel an ache forming between my legs.
“What no snarky come back? Too affected by what I said?” He asks.
“Fuck off and let me go back to sleep” I grumble, refusing to admit that he was having an affect on me.
Turning back over and closing my eyes, I feel Matt’s hand fiddling with the waist band of my shorts. My breathing becoming heavier as I try to ignore the growing sensation of need forming.
“If you’re trying to pretend you aren’t turned on, you’re doing a shit job” He whispers in my ear. His lips trailing down my neck.
Tilting my head back slightly, giving him easier access to my neck, I let out a gasp as he nips slightly at the skin on my neck.
“Matt” I groan, the wetness growing in my panties.
“Hm?” He replies, his hand now cupping my clothed pussy with his fingers tracing small circles, “Spit it out, you’re already soaked”
“Please” I whine.
“Please what?” He asks.
“Fuck sakes Matt. Touch me please” I grumble.
“There you go, wasn’t so hard to use your words was it sweetheart?” He replies.
His hand moves under my panties, his fingers now rubbing circles on my clit, as I let out of moan. My legs spread wider as I feel his fingers move towards my entrance, tracing circles around it.
“I - Matt” I whimper.
“Yeah? Tell me what you want” He says.
“Stop teasing” I whine, my core aching for his fingers to be inside of me.
“Mm but you sound so good begging for me, like a desperate whore” He replies.
“Please I need it” I again whine, his teasing driving me insane.
“Always knew you were a little whore” He responds before pushing two fingers inside of me, curling them slightly.
“Oh my god” I moan.
He says something that I couldn’t hear, too focused on how good he was making me feel and the growing knot in my stomach.
“Are you listening to me?” He asks, snapping me back to reality as he grabs my face turning it to look at him, taking his fingers out of me.
“I - what? What are you doing? Why did you stop” I stutter, the lack of his fingers inside of me frustrating me.
“God you need to learn how to fucking listen” He growls, his hand moving to my neck and squeezing, “I said you’re gonna ride me so I can see how good of a slut you can be”
“Fuck - yes okay” I reply.
I watch as he shuffles to removes his pjs and boxers, my jaw dropping at the size of him as it sprung out and smacked his stomach.
“Get your shirt off” He demands, watching as I removed it before taking both breast in his hand and toying with my nipples, moans escaping my mouth as he did.
“Let me” I beg.
“Let you what?” He responds.
“Ride you, please I need you” I whine.
My eyes follow his hand, watching him spit on it before starting to jerk himself off.
“You think you deserve to? I could just keep getting myself off instead” He says.
Almost mesmerized as I watch his hand move up and down, my pussy throbbing for him, I manage to choke out, “Matt fuck come on”
He smirks before replying, “So needy, get on”
Moving so he was lined up with my entrance, I begin lowering myself, wincing as my pussy stretched due to his size.
“You can take it, don’t pretend you can’t” He says.
My hands on his lower stomach for support, a growl leaves his mouth, and a moan from mine as he’s fully inside of me. Moving myself up and down, my pace fastening as I continued I watched as his eyes repeatedly trailed up and down my body.
“Fuck me you really are a whore” He groans, “So fucking tight”
“Feels - feels so good” I whimper.
My pleasure only increases as Matt begins to thrust his hips up, matching my pace and meeting with mine each time I went back down.
“Matt fuck I’m going to come” I whine, his dick hitting my g-spot and sending shivers down my spine.
“Not yet you’re not” He says.
“What?” I reply.
“You’re gonna wait till I do” He groans, thrusting his hips harder now.
“I can’t hold it” I whimper.
“You can and you will” He says.
A whimper falls from my mouth as my head falls back, using everything in me to follow his instructions. The continuous sensation of his dick slamming into me making it nearly impossible to control myself.
“Oh fuck, fuck I’m coming don’t even think about stopping” Matt growls, his eyes squeezing shut as I feel him release into me, the sight only making it harder to not come.
“Please” I beg, unsure if I could even hold myself back any longer.
“Such a whore, needing to come so badly” He groans, “Come for me”
Moans flow from my mouth as my climax takes over, my legs quickly growing weak as pleasure consumes my body. My body going limp as my high came to an end. Lifting myself up off of him and basically collapsing onto the bed.
“That was -“ I begin.
“So good” He finishes my sentence for me, “I’ve never doubted for a second that I could have you begging for me”
“Jesus Christ you couldn’t just not be cocky for 5 minutes?” I mumble.
“Nope, it’s in my nature” He shrugs.
“Fuck you’re so annoying” I say.
“You didn’t seem to think I was annoying when you were moaning out my name and begging to come” He smirked.
“Yeah well you are now” I reply.
“Whatever you say, just wait, I’ll have you begging again soon”
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