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kissedsuns · 4 months

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LOVESICK, LANDO NORRIS

cw: SMUT, slapping, enemies to lovers, degradation

max, lando, and you sit on the worn leather couch in the press conference room. the dim lights cast a soft glow over you all, and the room is filled with the buzz of journalists eager for answers. they fire questions at you rapidly, eager to dissect every detail of the race.

earlier, you and lando had a bad crash at turn 11, and with the tension between you two, this incident has just pushed you both to the brink.

as you sit there, cameras trained on you, you notice lando throwing dirty looks your way, and you catch yourself doing the same. anger churns inside you, and you bite the inside of your cheek, while also trying to calm down by twirling a strand of your hair around your finger.

then, a journalist asks directly, "so, lando, who do you really think was at fault with, uh, the crash at turn 11?" the room goes silent, everyone waiting for his answer. your heart races as you look at lando, who’s already got this mischievous glint in his eye.

"well, i think it's pretty clear that the blame lies with the other driver," lando begins, his gaze fixed intently on you. "i had a clean pass down the straight, and then someone swerved right into my line, cutting me off completely. i honestly have no idea what they were thinking." he shrugs, his expression hard as he shoots another pointed look, making his frustration evident without even needing to say a name.

"maybe they should have their driving license taken away," he adds with a snarky edge to his voice, and when his head snaps in your direction, you fucking lose it.

once those words left his lips, you were more than ready to throw a punch right then and there. obviously, you didn't, but the look in your eyes was enough to show it.

your anger flared even more when his lips curled into a smirk, clearly enjoying this frustrating banter.

"can i also add to this?" you urgently try to wave the journalist over, and only did you just notice that max seems to be finding the whole situation far too amusing for some press conference as he sits back with a sly grin.

"i think that if it wasn’t for a certain someones terrible driving, we could have made it through with no damage to the car." you scoff, glancing in his direction with a smirk.

"i mean, let's be honest, i’m quite happy with p2, and i guess i’ll have to be the bigger person in this situation and not make any stupid comments about a license being revoked." you then drop the mic from your mouth, shooting him another dirty glare as the journalist, along with all the others in the room, eagerly takes notes.

"oh, well, i’m just expressing my opinion, and if the other driver can't handle that, maybe they shouldn't be racing in the first place," lando says with a shrug and a self-righteous look on his face, knowing his comments are getting under your skin.

"and as far as being happy with p2, i think anyone with eyes can see that you should be happy with p2 because you clearly aren't good enough for more than that."

"oh, you little—" you couldn't take it anymore. you wanted nothing more than to punch him square in the face. but before you could say anything else, max interrupts. "alright, alright, i think that’s enough questions. thank you very much, everyone."

max quickly yanks the microphone from both your hands, ushering you off the couch and out of the conference room. you were about to protest, but it was too late. somehow, you were already outside.

max had gone off somewhere, leaving you and lando stranded in the empty hallway.

on your left was the mclaren team hub, but obviously, you didn’t want to be anywhere near anything mclaren-related.

"you’re hilarious, you know that?" you glare at him, your eyes almost twitching with rage.

"and you're a spoiled little brat, you know that?" lando shoots back without missing a beat.

he leans back against the wall, a cocky smirk on his lips, casually surveying you from head to toe. he thought you were so hot when you were mad, but for now, his focus was more on riling you up even more, something you were growing incredibly sick of.

"god, if it wasn’t for max back there," you say, taking one step closer towards him, your index finger pressing against the centre of his chest. "my fist would’ve been in between your teeth."

the tension in the room is palpable, and the look on your face is full of pure anger. yet he stands there with that stupid look on his face, as if to tell you that he didn’t care in the slightest.

he chuckles as you poke his chest with your finger, glancing down at your hand and then back up at you.

he then takes hold of your hand, preventing you from pulling away. "oh, come on, is that the best you've got?" he scoffs, leaning in closer with a smirk, and you can tell he’s having far too much fun with this whole situation.

"go on, hit me," he taunts "hit me, you little brat."

suddenly, the person in front of you didn't seem like lando norris anymore. this wasn't the frustrating, rude, and arrogant lando norris who would shove past you in the paddock, purposefully bumping your shoulder and laughing as he walked off.

this wasn't the lando norris who would send you menacing stares whenever you passed his garage, or who would roll his eyes whenever you opened your mouth to speak during a post-race interview.

whoever this was, standing in front of you with that irritating grin, certainly didn't seem like the same lando norris you were used to.

your palm strikes his cheek without even thinking twice. the silent corridor echoes with the sound of the slap, and you can see his head instantly jerk to the side, revealing the fresh, red imprint of your hand on his left cheek.

realising what you've just done, you slowly retract your hand from his face, your fingers trembling slightly. a gasp escapes your lips, and you’re quick to cover your mouth with your palm, eyes wide with shock.

"oh, shit," you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper.

"oh, did that feel good?" he asked, grabbing your chin and tilting your head up to meet his gaze. "did that make you feel like you won? because let's be real, you never win anything."

"you’re one to talk," you sneer, pulling his hand away from your chin. "you’ve been in formula one for years and still can't reach the top step," you say with disdain, your frown morphing into a shit-eating grin. "if anything, i’ve always been ahead of you. in everything."

he chuckles at your taunt and shakes his head slowly. "oh, really? you think you're ahead of me?"

then, lando’s hand slips forward, grabbing at your hip instead of your chin. he pulls you close to him, your faces now mere inches apart.

"in what? the number of mistakes you've made this season?" he retorts, a smirk playing on his lips. "because you're definitely ahead of me in that category."

you feel the urge to bite down on the inside of your mouth again, the sharp pain serving as a reminder to control your words and actions, in case you catch yourself doing or saying something you’ll regret.

"you make me sick," you spit, your voice laced with disgust.

"aw, poor thing," he mocks, while his thumb continues its gentle caress on your hip.

he observes how you almost melt at his touch, your body responding to him in ways you can't control.

with a deliberate move, his free hand glides to the nape of your neck, fingers tracing along the sensitive skin before gently pulling your face closer to his.

there’s a moment of silence, just the two of you staring at each other so intensely it's like you're communicating without words.

suddenly, almost on cue, you both lean in, and your lips meet in this forceful, aggressive kiss. like all the frustration you've been harbouring has been poured into that one moment.

in an attempt to explore every inch of your body, lando draws you in closer, pressing himself against you and nibbling harshly on your lower lip, before slipping his tongue into your mouth.

you press his body firmly against the wall with a sense of urgency. a few soft moans escape your lips, and your fingers manage to find their way into lando’s hair, gripping onto his curls and tugging gently.

your ears pick up on a faint whine that escapes his lips in response, only fueling your desire as you pull a little harder.

he follows by biting down on your bottom lip, before grabbing your ass and raising you up, forcing you to wrap your legs around his waist as he spins around and pushes you against the wall.

growing more exhausted by the second, you force your swollen lips apart while your chest heaves with every breath, almost gasping for air.

with a little tremble from anticipation, you pry your hands out of lando’s curls, allowing your fingertips to trail over his shoulders.

you shiver as he presses light kisses along your jawline, enjoying the warmth of your skin before biting down gently on your neck. as he draws you in closer, his hand still firmly holding your ass, he tilts your head up to reveal more of your neck with his other hand, eager to feel every inch of your skin.

in mere seconds, your lips meet again, the kiss more sloppy and less controlled this time. like animals, you cling to each other tighter as you maneuver out of the corridor and into his team hub.

it’s a place where you aren’t particularly welcome, but right now, you couldn’t give a flying fuck.

lando stumbles his way into the lounge of the team hub, his lips refusing to leave yours.

everything else seems to fade into the background as he struggles to focus, his mind has gone foggy at the sensation of your body pressed against his.

finally reaching his private room, he gently lays you down on your back, climbing on top of you with the support of his trusty sofa the mclaren team installed for him.

no one would have anticipated lando would be using it for this particular purpose, which is making out with his rival, but hey, atleast it’s getting its money’s worth.

after a few moans and whines later, both of you eventually grew tired, your energy spent. lando and you reluctantly pulled your shaking bodies apart, slick with sweat and adorned with scratches you lacked the strength to point out.

you both lay there, catching your breath, the silence only being broken by the sound of your heavy breathing and the faint rustle of the couch beside you.

lando sits up on the couch, leaning back against it, his head spinning from what had just happened. raking a hand through his thick hair, he panted slightly, trying to calm his racing heart.

"that was.." lando let out a breath, his words trailing off as he tried to find the right word. he shook his head, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "wow."

you muster a laugh at his attempt to express himself. “didn’t think you were my type,” you tease, a playful glint in your eyes.

propping yourself up beside him, you run your finger along the outline of his abs, admiring his frustratingly flawless body. the sight of him leaves you practically drooling.

lando gives a casual shrug, his hand reaching out to pull you closer by the waist. "i’m everyone's type," he teases, a confident smirk gracing his lips. "you should've given in sooner,"

you roll your eyes and stand up from the couch. “i liked you better when you were needy,” you say with a scoff, scrambling to search for your clothes that have been tossed aside and scattered around the room.

"i was not needy," he insists, rising from the sofa as he goes to playfully nip at the skin on your neck.

you toss his mclaren shirt, and it lands on his bare chest with a soft thud. “sure you weren’t, needy norris,” you quip, a playful smirk dancing on your lips.

"oh, you're just so funny, aren’t you?" he teases back, rolling his eyes in a playful manner as he throws the shirt over his head.

once you’re both completely dressed, lando carefully opens the door and steps out of the room, waiting for you to follow suit.

"maybe next time we can do it in my driver’s room? you know, just for a change."

"sure, baby."

eventually, you two part ways, and lando decides to head down and hang out at one of the garages with a few other drivers.

as lando makes his way over to oscar, george and carlos, he becomes gradually aware of something.

it could have been the strange gestures they were doing, like thrusting the air and making absurdly high-pitched moans, or the fact that they all burst out laughing and cheering as soon as they saw lando approaching.

"holy shit, you weren't kidding," george exclaims, his eyes widening in disbelief. his smile widens when he points to the unmistakable handprint on lando’s cheek, as well as the numerous hickeys adorning his neck and collarbone.

yeah, lando had a feeling that he should’ve buttoned up his shirt before leaving the room. as for the handprint, well, you probably had it a lot worse given how many times lando had spanked and slapped you when he claimed you were ‘misbehaving’.

lando tugs at the top of his shirt, attempting to hide the hickeys. "it's not- i didn't-" he splutters, making an effort to protest but he knows deep down that there's no use.

he lets out a huff before storming off. "whatever, idiots."

it just so happened that on his way to change out of his race gear, oscar had walked right by lando’s driver's room. he did his bit before hurrying down to meet with the other drivers, doing his best to ignore the loud and disturbing noises coming from behind that door.

let’s just say that when max and daniel pulled you aside and almost begged you to explain to them why you had a bright red handprint on your face, you weren't exactly having the time of your life either.

looks like you’ll definitely have to be using your driver’s room next time.

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bisexualiteaa · 5 months

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Make-Up Sex

Cooper Howard x Fem Reader (SMUT!!)

CW: NSFW MDNI!! Rough sex, riding, Cooper getting tied up, p in v, p0rn w/o plot, irradiated cream pie x2, mention of needles, cursing, established relationship, slight OOC Cooper, slight deviance from show

AN: I’m really enjoying writing for asks! Thank you to those who have submitted any, my ask box is always open so feel free to send in more! I will do my best to get to them as I can, and to the Anon who asked for this one, I hope I did your ask justice! Enjoy our favorite cowboy getting tied up and railed. Save a horse, ride a cowboy y’all. 🤠 apologies if it seems rushed, I wrote it at like 2am and post this on my way to work 😭

Synopsis: Cooper Howard is one stubborn man, and after a while of getting on your nerves, you finally find a way to make him apologize.

He had been getting on your nerves all day. First instance was when you two were out scavenging after finishing a bounty hunt, your supplies were running a bit low after being out for three whole days longer than you’d anticipated. You were getting ready to shoot one of the bandits that managed to get a stray bullet to graze your cheek when he killed them before you could even get a chance. You evil eyed him as he said “ain’t fun havin’ your kills stolen from ya, is it sweetheart?” He asked, making you roll your eyes and give a groan as you sifted through the raider’s pockets for anything useful. No such luck. A whole three bottle caps, and a plastic fork. So you drug your feet as you both carried on towards home.

Second instance was when you both were surprised by some radroaches and radscorpions after opening the door to what looked to be a vacant rest stop to get supplies from. A few wasted bits of ammo later, you make it inside and he made fun of your screams for a whole two hours. “Ain’t afraid of raiders, needles, nothin’ but bugs” he would say as he’d laugh so hard he’d go into a coughing fit while your face burned bright red with anger and embarrassment as he’d use his inhaler.

The third instance was where you drew the line. He was sifting through his bag trying to find his canteen of water after not finding shit at the rest stop. “Motherfucker” he said to himself, upon not being able to find it or anything really to have to drink. So instead of asking, he just went into your bag when you were busy trying to scavenge more bodies, took yours and drank it dry without telling you, and you had at least three more hours on foot until you made it back to the settlement. So when you went to go get a drink of water, the horror and plain rage on your face when you felt that it was empty was immeasurable. “How in the fuck is this thing empty? I JUST filled it yesterday!” You said, turning to look at Cooper as you both walked and the look on his face was all you needed as an answer. “You drank all o’ my water? What ‘n the hell happened to your canteen?” You asked, your southern drawl becoming more evident the angrier you got. “Must’ve forgot it” he said, making you look at him like he just spoke a whole different language. “You forgot it?” you asked, wondering how in the hell the deadliest motherfucker in this wasteland was traveling with you and just forgot his water. “Oh you gotta be shittin’ me….You know what, I don’t even wanna know how you managed that. We’re almost back to the settlement, I’ll refill it when we get there” you said angrily, moving ahead of him a little to prove that he’d pulled the last straw on your patience.

When you made it back to your settlement and back to the place you called home, you organized all the supplies you’d gotten, (which wasn’t much) putting them where they all were supposed to go, refilling canteens of water, and changing into more comfortable clothes as night began to fall. It was around dinner time that Cooper finally noticed that he really managed to piss you off.

You’d hardly ever given Cooper the cold shoulder in the time you two had been together, he was married before so he wasn’t ignorant to what being given the cold shoulder meant, but Cooper Howard was a stubborn man, one set in his ways so when he feels there’s no need to do something, he will not do it. “You gonna sit here ‘n ignore me all night?” He asked, and all you did was cross your arms in response, making him shake his head. “I’ll take that as a yes, but we’ll see how long that lasts, ya always come around somehow” he said arrogantly, only adding fuel to the fire and he knew it, it’s just how he was. He was an asshole, he was when you met him and apparently that charm never fully left. He was partly right however which is what you didn’t want to give him credit for. Even when you were really mad at him, you always came around at some point. His mouth got him into a lot of trouble, but it also managed to get him out of it too, his charisma and smooth talking always landing with some kisses to open you back up or make up sex to help you forget. You never were the kind of girl to let good dick sway you out of being mad but it was attached to a man that cared about you in ways no one else ever did, so you supposed he was at least a good exception. “You’ll come ‘round when that ache sets in, when you realize your dainty lil’ fingers can’t do anything close to what mine do to you” he said by your ear as he stood up from the dining room table, working you up and trying to get you to sleep with him to forget about your anger, but just as he was stubborn, you were just as set in your ways too. Though he knew it was a tough decision for you, you’d both gone a whole two weeks out there in the wastelands collecting caps from bounties and scavenging for supplies without any time or a means to sneak away and be with one another, so you were both pent up and he knew it. It was half the reason for your attitude to begin with, although you supposed he likely knew that too.

You got up from the chair in the kitchen a few minutes after he moved to the bedroom, getting ready for bed. You stopped him as he’d just taken his boots off, finally ready to be on speaking terms again but they were your terms. “Here’s how this is gon’ work. You, are gonna lay on that bed, and let me fuck you like I hate you because right now, I am doing everythin’ in my power not to hate you, and you ain’t been makin’ that an easy feat” you said, your eyes looking straight into his as if you were staring right into his soul, if he still even had one. “Yeah? And what makes you think I’m just gonna let you get away with that, lil’ lady?” He asked in a condescending tone, making you chuckle. “Because I know damn well you’re as pent up as I am, so if you want any, and wanna get back into my good graces, this is how it’s gonna happen. And I will accept that as an apology for the shit you’ve done” you replied as you stepped closer, not caring that you had to look up at him when you spoke, the venom in your words was enough to prove the point you were trying to make. Your response making him huff a short, dry chuckle, impressed by how well you stood your ground, so he awaited your orders. “Now take your damn clothes off” you said, making him grin as he did as he was told, he could get used to you bossing him around like this. Your accent got a little thicker when you were mad, and the way you barked orders and told him what to do with a quip ready for whatever he had to say in response, he had to admit was a side of you he liked seeing more than he’d ever admit to. He shook his duster from his shoulders, then worked at his shirt as you pulled yours off and over your head, then moved to unclasp your bra and dispose of it on the floor, not caring where it went. Your eyes raked each other’s frame with almost visible tension as you stood a few feet apart from each other. Enough space to keep him from using his hands to get you to submit, but enough to also allow you to close the gap when you felt comfortable enough to. You both worked at undoing your pants, tossing them aside to be forgotten about until morning. “Get on the bed” you ordered, leaving the room to grab his rope from his saddlebag in the kitchen. When you returned, he noticed the item in your hands, giving you a wicked grin. “Gonna tie me up, sweetheart?” He asked in that condescending tone, making you chuckle as you tied his hands to the rungs of the bed frame nice and tight. Tight enough to keep him in place, not too tight to hurt too much, he was an asshole sure but he was still your asshole. “Sure am. Gonna need to earn the right back t’ touch me, and you ain’t earned it yet” you replied, straddling his lap as you ground your slick pussy against his cock. He gave a groan at the feel of you, watching as your hips moved against his to coat him in slick for when you’d line him up to your entrance. Key word there was when because you wanted to make this torturous. You moaned as you bucked your hips against him, his head bumping your clit as you used him for your own pleasure. “Think I could use you just like this. Mmm…make myself cum then leave you here achin’ for more” you threatened, running your hands along your figure and toying with your breast to tease him extra, hearing groans leave him each time your pussy would glide along his cock. “Now that ain’t very nice of you” he replied, making you grin. “Never said nothin’ ‘bout playin’ nice sugar. Still waitin’ for you to say you’re sorry” you responded, making him grunt as you continued to play with yourself and moan all sweetly. “I ain’t apologizin’, no need to” he said, making you click your tongue. “A shame, looks like you ain’t cummin’ tonight then” you said, continuing your movements as you got closer and closer to letting that knot snap inside you. He wanted- no he *needed* to feel your gummy walls wrapped around his cock, so the fact that you were using it in a way that couldn’t afford him that, was already working his nerves.

“What’s wrong? Don’t like what I’m givin’ you? Should be thankful I’m even touchin’ you with how mad you made me” you said, going a little quicker now with your movements so he tried focusing on that, focusing on the way your clit would bump that spot right under his tip over and over. So when you came from grinding against it rather than seating on it and *ruined*that chance of still getting to finish, he gave a disgruntled grunt.

“Aww what’s the matter? Did I stop somethin’?” You asked in a deeper, condescending tone that had his dick throbbing in need. He’d never seen this evil of a side of you before, but you had only just started. “Whatchya want Cooper? Go ‘head, tell me” you said, making him grunt. “Want you t’ shut up and ride me already” he said, making you chuckle before landing a harsh slap across his face, the sound of your hand meeting his cheek rang through the room. “You ain’t in the position to be givin’ orders sugar. I thought you had manners” you said as he turned and looked back at you, astonished one by the power behind that smack and two, by the tone you were getting with him. “I’ll ask you one more time, what’dya want me to do to you, hmm?” You asked, and knowing now what power you had behind just one of those smaller hands of yours, he relented. “Ride me, please” he grunted, making you smile and lay a soft kiss to his cheek to try and soothe where you slapped him. “See? Not so bad now is it? Now if ya just apologize, I’ll take some RadAway and let you cum” you said, and judging by the look on his face, you could say that wasn’t going to happen. “Fuck you” he spat, making you chuckle. “Oh I am gonna fuck you, don’t you worry” you said as you lined him up to your entrance, sinking down on him inch by torturous inch. You were having way too much fun with this, and he didn’t like that he couldn’t have his way for a change. His hips involuntarily bucked up to try and shove more of himself into your tight cunt, but you moved to where it wouldn’t happen, making him grip the bed frame where he was tied to. “Someone’s gettin’ antsy, best keep them hips steady if you want this to continue” you said, making him growl under his breath before giving a groan once you were fully seated on him. You gave a moan as his tip nudged the apex to your cervix, moving your hips back and forth to where you would get off, but not do much for him. He gave you an angry look that made you laugh. “What’s the matter honey? Ya asked me to ride you already, it’s what I’m doin’” you said, making him grit his teeth as he did his best to hold his bearings. “But I guess you were good and didn’t move after I warned you so I’ll throw a bone atchya” you said, moving up and down on him, earning a groan from him once more that mingled with the moans falling from your lips. “Fuck…” he breathed, making you chuckle and smirk in that bratty way that he wanted to fuck off your face already, but he couldn’t. Despite his expressions and reactions, he was enjoying this too much but he couldn’t let you know that.

“Mmm, Cooper…” you moaned sweetly as you bounced on his cock, his name sounded heavenly when it fell from your lips, he could hardly get enough of it. He watched as your tits bounced up and down with your movements, the way your thighs jiggled as you moved, god how he wanted to grip them so bad right now. To hold you down and buck up into you until your eyes were rolling back in your head and you were screaming, but this was your show to run. You picked up the pace a little bit, going faster and angling where his tip would brush against that sweet bundle of nerves deep inside. He felt the way your walls started to close around him, sucking him in each time you’d come down, and fluttering around him. You were close. You were so caught up in chasing that feeling that you almost missed what he said. “Fuck- ‘m sorry” he spoke softly, finally apologizing to you. “What was that? I don’t think I quite heard ya there” you said, making him grunt. He should have known that you would milk the shit out of this. “I said I was- fuck- sorry” he repeated, making you hum but it wasn’t enough, not yet. So you stopped. “Sorry for what?” You asked, and he didn’t seem very happy at the fact that you stopped moving all together when he was so close to cumming yet again. “Dammit, wadn’t sayin’ sorry enough? I fuckin’ apologized like you wanted” he snapped, making you slap him across his cheek once more, this one stinging a bit more because it landed in the exact same spot as the last one. Though the tingling sensation of pain never lasted very long, it was enough to make his dick throb while inside of you and he prayed you wouldn’t notice. “Lose the attitude before I hop off and take care of myself then leave you tied up here all night” you said, making him huff in response. “Fine” he replied gruffly through gritted teeth. “Good, now I wanna hear you say it. What are you sorry for?” You asked as you started your pace back up, making him groan again as your hips and ass slapped down against him harshly. “Sorry f’ bein’ an asshole” he grunted out. “And?” You asked, needing just a little bit more before you were satisfied. “And f’ makin’ you mad” he finished, and you were content with that. “Happy?” He asked, making you hum and pretend to contemplate if you were for a minute before finally answering. “Yeah, I’ll take that” you said, placing your hands on his chest as you bounced up and down on him once more, earning a relieved sigh from him. “Just like that sweetheart, fuck…” he groaned before you leaned down, pulling him into the first kiss you’ve shared in a day and a half. You moaned into it as you started to near your peak, finally able to chase it after all the time spent putting it off to deal with his attitude. “Gonna cum- Cooper…!” you moaned into the crook of his neck and that was his undoing. You hid your face into his neck as your walls squeezed him tight, your orgasm washing over you like a tidal wave. Your legs shook as his hips bucked up into you, trying to work the both of you through your high as he pumped you full.

What he wasn’t expecting was you to keep moving, earning an almost pained groan from him as you ground yourself against him. “I never gave you permission to cum inside me” you stated, apparently he wasn’t out of the dog house just yet. He was plotting how he would get you back for this on another day, how he’d wreck you and make you remember just who it is you’re doing this to. You smirked as you had the wonderful idea of giving him a taste of his own medicine. “Perk about it bein’ a minute? I can go all night” you teased as you set that steady pace once more, needing more, needing to feel him after being so long without. His hands gripped the bed posts, white knuckled as he hissed through his teeth from the overstimulation. “You are one evil woman, ya know that?” He asked playfully, making you chuckle. “Don’t act like you don’t fuckin’ love it” you replied, and he certainly couldn’t argue with you there, not when it felt this good. “You can give me one more, can’t you sweetie?” You asked in a sickly sweet tone, using the same line he’d always use on you anytime he’d overstimulate the hell out of you just to see the faces you make and hear your moans. He recognized that line, making him grunt and groan as you moved your hips. “Fuck…” was all he could get out, mind foggy of any thoughts, just how good your walls felt as they massaged his dick. Maybe he should piss you off more often. “Look at those pretty faces, you like this, don’t you?” you asked, making him damn near whimper at your tone and he never does that shit. You gave an evil laugh at the pathetic sound. “Oh you sweet thing, I’m gonna fuckin’ ruin you” you said, leaning down and biting into his shoulder as you picked up the pace a little bit, earning a lewd groan from him. You laved your tongue over the spot, watching it heal instantly before sitting back up, fully seating yourself on him. You reached behind you to cup and fondle his balls, moving your hips back and forth to grind your clit against him to both work you to your end. “C’mon baby, give it to me. I can tell you’re almost there” you said, making him tilt his head back at all the feelings you were giving him, it was too much yet not enough all at once and it was torture. Your free hand came to his cheeks, pulling his head down to face you. “Eyes on me” you ordered, and his eyes looked into yours for a moment before flitting down to where your bodies were connected, giving a groan when he’d see himself disappear and reappear slightly and the way his cum was sticking to your thighs and his lower stomach. “Cooper…” you moaned softly once more, that was almost always your sign, the way you’d sigh his name so deliciously paired with your walls milking him for everything he could give you drove him mad. “Cum with me honey” you pleaded, and felt as his hips bucked up into you three or four times before you both were sent over the edge once more, a cacophony of moans slipping from both of you as he spilled inside of you and you came on his cock.

After laying there for a few minutes, enjoying the peaceful after glow of your orgasms, you sat up, accidentally seating yourself fully on his dick again and he gave a pained groan. “Not again…” he whined, making you laugh as your hands came to the rope binding his wrists. “Relax, I’m just undoin’ ya. I’m mean, but not that mean” you said through giggles. “You okay though? I know I was really rough but I didn’t go too far…did I?” You asked skiddishly, a complete 180 of the attitude you had just moments ago and it made him laugh. “Wasn’t expectin’ it outta you sweetheart but I’d be a damn liar if I said I didn’t like it. I’m alright, you did good” he assured, making you relieved as you laid on top of him, littering his lips, cheeks, neck, shoulder, and chest with kisses as his hands rested on your back and hips. “I love you Coop. Even when ya piss me off, you’re still the only person in this god forsaken wasteland I could ever see myself with” you spoke, making him chuckle. “I love you too, sweetheart. ‘m sorry for makin’ you upset, wasn’t right. But I’d say you did a damn good job of puttin’ me in my place” he said, making you giggle. “No hard feelings?” You asked, looking at him with eyes that held so much worry for one person, eyes that held so much care. His hand came to the back of your head, pulling you into a loving kiss. “Never” he said into it, pressing his forehead against yours after you both parted for air. You gave a contented hum, happy for things to be all right again. “Remind me to piss you off more often, you got a good swing on ya” he said, breaking the peaceful silence with a grin, making you laugh. “Please don’t, I like moments like this so much more. I hate bein’ mad at you, love you too much” you replied, making him kiss the top of your head, wondering what he ever did to deserve someone like you.

“C’mon, let’s get ya cleaned up and get some RadAway in ya, don’t wanna ruin that perfect skin just yet” he said, making you giggle once more but it was cut off by a hiss as he moved you off from his softened dick, grabbing a wet rag and cleaning you both up as he got the IV started. He kissed your head once more, holding your hand like he always did as you got the needle in, got it all hooked up and a good flow going, coming back to sling his arm around you and hold you to him. Between the warmth of his body and the comfort of the bed, you couldn’t help but let your eyes flutter shut, a soft smile resting on your lips as you fell asleep peacefully against him. You always felt safe when you were with him, no matter where you were, and he’d always protect you no matter what. And that, is what love in post apocalypse looked like, he swore it.

#fallout smut #fallout #fallout x reader #cooper howard smut #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard #the ghoul smut #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul

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sweet-as-an-angel · 2 years

Note

Could you do Daddy kink König x fem reader pls 🙏👉👈

König w/ a Daddy Kink

Warnings: 18+, Daddy Kink, Dominant König, Breeding Kink, Forced Breeding Kink, Consensual Non-Con/Dub-Con Kink (König would never force himself on you; he loves you very much and everything you do together is explicitly consensual), Somnophilia, Unprotected Sex, Creampie, Submissive Reader, Fem Reader, Spanking, Discipline, Punishment, Petnames, Pussy Slapping, Plugging, Sadism, König’s dick is H U G E, Profanity, Fluff, etc.

DADDY KONIG AAAAAAAHHHHHH

Okay, Dom König absolutely has a daddy kink.

And you realised it by accident when you screamed “Daddy!” as he made you cum.

Body riddled with the ebbing of your orgasm, heaving chest flush against König’s, you lolled against him, perfectly oblivious to what you’d unearthed in König.

“What was that, Engel?” König said, panting, twitching, head tilting as he looked down at you.

You could barely talk, nevermind move.

When you didn’t answer, still panting heavily, König took your face in his hand, gripping your jaw, making you wince.

“Don’t test my patience, Engel.” His voice was low and rasping with lust. “I’m sure you don’t want me to pound you again. Not while you’re so…” He pressed his fingers against the bruised, sensitive skin of your lips.

You yelped, back arching, pushing you further into König’s chest.

“I…I called you…” Your gaze fell from his sharp eyes, drifting off to the side, shame obscuring your confidence and rendering you incapable of facing him.

“Go on,” König encouraged. “Say it.”

“Daddy…”

König shivered, his skin breaking out into goosebumps. He sucked in a hiss between his teeth, and, slowly, ground his half-hard cock against your aching flower. You whined. König growled.

“Mmmh, Darling,” his breath shuttered, “such a good girl.”

König rubbed against your clit, making you moan - cry - against him.

“M’gonna fuck you so hard ‘til–”

He groaned, his tip catching your lips. God, so tempting - so inviting.

“‘Til you make me a daddy.”

Expect many thorough breeding sessions after this.

Literally just König filling you until you look and feel like you’re about to burst, only for him to plug you and make you keep his seed inside you.

“Pull it out and I’ll keep going until you actually pop.”

Definitely into somnophilia.

Will wake up at an odd hour of the morning with a raging hard-on and will just feed his length into your pussy, feeling you squeeze him while you sleep.

“Gonna fill you up, Baby,” he’d whisper in your ear, giving a low moan when you shift in your sleep and invite him deeper.

If you wake up during this and tell König to: “Nnng, stop - please, don’t–”

You’re just gonna make him cum harder, draw him to his end quicker.

That being said, he has a slight (massive) dub-con kink.

Also, consensual forced breeding kink.

“N-no! Please, Daddy, I don’t wanna get pregnant–”

“Shut your fucking mouth,” König hissed, his cock bulging in your stomach, his hands pinning your wrists above your head.

“I’ll breed you as much as I like; m’gonna make sure you never leave this house again–” he moaned as he felt himself succumbing to his release, his member twitching. “So beautiful – you’re gonna look so pretty, swollen with my offspring.”

Well, given you actually want to bring a child into the world, of course.

If not, you and König can simply pretend, still indulging König’s daddy kink at every given opportunity.

König refuses to let you refer to him by anything other than ‘Daddy’ when he’s in the mood - failure to do so results in some serious pussy slapping.

Doesn’t matter how sensitive you are; he’s going to make sure you remember to call him Daddy next time.

The same goes for if you start being bratty.

König’s kink is not an invitation for you to start acting fussy.

“Oh, it’s too big?” he said, his eyes wide – mirroring and mocking your expression – inching his cock inside you, stretching you over him.

You whined, scowling, eyes doe and glistening.

“Daddy, it hurts!” you squealed. “Take it out, please–”

“Shh, Princess. Don’t make me angry.” König said, his eyes darkening. “Or I’ll make it hurt more.”

Definitely into discipline and spanking.

Will sometimes do it even if you haven’t warranted it.

Slaps your backside and thighs with his belt, breath quivering when he hears the sound of leather against skin, sees the red marks across your body.

And when a wide-eyed, confused expression crosses your face, he just smiles cruelly down at you.

“Shouldn’t be walking around with that tight little ass if you didn’t want me to hit it.”

In more ways than one *wink*.

Outside of the bedroom, calling König ‘Daddy’ is a proven way to get him to do anything for you.

Just bat your eyelashes at him and say in your softest voice: “Daddyyy, the cookie jar’s too far away; will you get it for me?”

And he’s DONE.

“Of course, Princess. Anything for you.”

He’s just so whipped for you.

Looks at you like you’re the Universe and all its celestial creations.

Tends to your every need, without question or hesitation.

Literally will not rest until all your needs are met and surpassed.

Sit in his lap, PLEASE.

He’ll literally just die in his seat if you do. Regardless of how dominant König’s feeling, he’s still vulnerable to your gentle advances.

And just vulnerable to you, to be honest.

But love will do that to a person, and König, a man whose profession made him think he was forced never to feel love himself, has never wanted to protect something - or someone - more.

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously :-)

Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist

AO3 Wattpad

#konig x reader #konig x you #konig x y/n #konig headcanons #konig mw2 #konig call of duty #konig smut #könig smut #könig x reader #könig x you #könig mw2 #mw2 x reader #mw2 smut #mw2 fanfic #cod mw2 fanfic #cod mw2 #mw2 headcanons #mw2 x you

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pancakeszs · 15 days

Text

I’d rather be with you

♡ Megumi Fushiguro x fem!reader

♡ word count: 2.3k

♡ synopsis: reader’s date canceled so megumi steps up and takes her out to cheer her up instead

♡ warnings: all characters are aged up! (18+) FLUFF, confessions, making out, slightly ooc megumi

♡ authors note: this is my first jjk fic on here! i’m really nervous so i hope you all enjoy! i’m sorry if this is a bit fast paced i tried my best. <3

WRITTEN BY @pancakeszs (please do not repost or make any translations)

you were getting ready for your valentine’s day date, filled to the brim with excitement until you received a text. a text from the very man who was supposed to take you out.

date: hey i can’t make it today. my ex wants to go out w me so i’m gonna be with her instead. maybe another time 🤷‍♀️

you almost chucked your phone across the room, but realized that would just make things much worse. you felt your eyes begin to water but you blinked them back. this douche didn’t deserve your tears. taking a deep breath you dialed the number of the only person who could make you feel better.

after the second ring you heard his voice through the line.

“hey, what’s up?” megumi’s comforting voice hit your ear and it immediately made you feel better.

“my date just cancelled on me to go out with his ex.” you had to hold yourself back from screaming into the phone, megumi wasn’t the one who needed to be on the receiving end of your rage.

“that asshole, he doesn’t deserve you.” megumi meant it, he didn’t think anyone was ever good enough for you. mostly because he wanted you all to himself but he would never tell you that. he would never forgive himself if he ruined your friendship over his stupid feelings.

the line was silent for a moment before megumi spoke again “since you don’t have any plans, wanna come over? we can go to the bookstore to cheer you up if you want?”

you smiled at his offer, megumi was never really straight forward with his words but his actions let you know that he truly cared about you. “i’d like that. thank you, gumi.”

“mhm, i’ll be there in 10 is that okay?”

“perfect!”

you suddenly felt much more nervous about hanging out with megumi than when you were going on your actual date. you turned around to examine yourself in the mirror. you wore a crimson red skirt, a white babydoll blouse, with crimson red mary jane’s with frilly socks to match your skirt. you decided to add a heart necklace that megumi had gotten for your birthday one year and the matching earrings that went with it.

after adding your finishing touches you looked at yourself again and decided that you looked good enough. even though megumi has seen you at your lowest you still wanted to look presentable, especially since it was valentine’s day.

you wondered to yourself if this was technically a date. deep inside of you, you wished that it was but you didn’t think megumi could ever see you as more than a best friend. you decided that it was just a hangout to make you feel better after being canceled on by your date.

you were startled out of your thoughts by a knock on the door. your heart began to beat faster as you walked towards the door. you opened the door to find your best friend. he was holding of bouquet of white roses, your favorite, and wore beige dress pants and a red sweater vest. the color scheme matched your outfit perfectly.

you smiled at him and megumi thought he was going to melt. you had stars in your eyes and megumi couldn’t think of a smile more perfect than yours.

“they’re beautiful megumi…” you said staring at the flowers, which meant you were too busy to notice the faint blush coating megumi’s cheeks.

he handed them out to you and you took them gently, not wanting to ruin their beauty. “come inside, i’ll put these in a vase before we head out.”

megumi followed you inside and still hadn’t said a word. he didn’t know what to say. you looked stunning in your outfit. he couldn’t help but notice the heart necklace and earrings you wore. the same ones he gifted to you on your birthday.

he decided to say something so he didn’t look like a total idiot. “you look..very pretty.” he was glad that you were searching for a vase while he said it.

you looked over your shoulder and smiled trying to sound calm but ending up stumbling over your words “thank you, you too- not pretty, but handsome. but i mean you are pretty too.” you cringed at yourself and quickly returned to searching for a vase.

megumi blushed at the compliment, seeing you as flustered as he was helped his nerves cool down.

finally you found a vase and filled it up with water. “so what do you want to do?” you asked looking at megumi.

he shook his head “no, what do you want to do?” he would’ve added that you were the one who’s date flaked out on you but decided it might’ve been best not to mention that detail.

you hummed to yourself as you thought. “well, you did mention the bookstore.” you say sheepishly as you cut the bottom tip of the stems off.

“i had a feeling you would say that. we can go there first.” he said. you picked up the vase and placed it in the middle of the dining room table, admiring its beauty.

you turn to look at megumi who was already looking at you “you ready to go?” you ask to which he nods in response.

the drive to the bookstore quiet, but not in an awkward way. it was never awkward with you and megumi. it felt natural to sit in the car, listening to your favorite artists and enjoy the ride. it was one of your favorite things that you both did together, you felt like you were bonding just by listening to your favorite songs and taking in the scenery.

megumi put the car into park and you both walked towards the bookstore. “any books you’re looking for in particular?” he asks you.

you think for a moment and then shake your head “not really, i’ll just look at whatever catches my eye.“

when you walk into the bookshop you feel like you’re transported into a different universe. the warm arm and the soft scent of vanilla made you feel at peace as you walked towards the fantasy section of the store.

megumi followed you, content to watch you skim through the books until you chose the perfect one. it wasn’t the first time you guys had visited a bookshop together, you did so quite frequently since you both loved reading.

he stood silently behind you as you read the different titles until you saw one that caught your eye. you gently pulled it out and read the back, immediately intrigued by the story.

you turn around to look at megumi, your face practically glowing with excitement. “i’m getting this one, it sounds really interesting. is there anything you want to look at?”

megumi shakes his head, he wasn’t here today for himself he was here for you. even though it wasn’t a date, he wanted to treat you to the best valentine’s day you’ve ever had. a day better than the one that douche would’ve given you.

you pout feeling bad that he isn’t getting anything but he insists that he has enough books at home. eventually you budge and you make your way to the register.

once it’s your turn in line you hand the cashier the book and reach into your wallet for your payment. right as you look up to hand the cashier your card megumi is already handing it to the lady. “megumi, i can pay.” you insist

“what kind of man would i be if i let you pay for a book on valentine’s day?” he asked raising an eyebrow at you.

“fine, but if we stop somewhere to eat i’m paying.” megumi makes a noise in the back of his throat that makes you think he’s agreeing when he’s really not.

once you guys exit the bookstore and walk back into the cool brisk february air you look up at him and thank him.

“it’s no problem.” he says shrugging it off, but he’s actually really happy that he got to buy you a book that you seemed excited to have.

“where to next?” he asks as you walk down the street with no particular destination in mind.

“how about the park?”

he nods as you both walk towards the direction of the park. that was another place you both enjoyed hanging out, you usually went there to read together. it was a little book club spot that you both had. except this time you were seeing it in new eyes, it seemed more romantic now. a secluded bench in an unoccupied part of the park. you wondered if people the who would pass by you thought that you were a couple. you blushed at the thought.

on your way to your bench you saw some food trucks and you both looked at each other and immediately knew that you both wanted something to eat.

“what do you want to eat?” you ask megumi but he shakes his head simply and says “no, what do you want to eat?”

“if i choose then i get to pay, deal?”

megumi rolls his eyes at you and mumbles “fine.”

you smile, content that he accepted your deal. you look around at the trucks and pick one that sells gyoza’s, something that both you and megumi enjoy. luckily there wasn’t much of a wait so you order pork dumplings for yourself, while megumi orders beef dumplings. you pull out your card and smile at megumi as you hand it to the man running the truck.

megumi rolls his eyes playfully and you both wait for a couple of minutes before receiving your food. once you get back to your bench you don’t immediately begin to eat. you’re thinking about your day. even though you both hadn’t been out long it was a very sweet hang out.

megumi turned to look at you, noticing that you haven’t started to eat, even though he hasn’t either. “what’s wrong? did they mess up your order?” he asks concerned

“no, i just wanted to say thank you megumi. for taking me out today. i appreciate you stepping up after that guy canceled our plans.”

you glance away after you speak, you think about the way he told you that you looked pretty, and the way that he was looking at you as you placed the flowers on the table. you could admit that you were delusional at times but today felt different. it didn’t feel like delusion it felt real. it felt like the air between you and megumi was charged with something more than friendship.

you decide to take the leap, it is valentine’s day after all. “i know this wasn’t technically a date…but today felt different. it felt romantic, almost.”

you look at him and he’s staring at you so intently, likes he’s trying to get you to elaborate so you continue speaking. “i’ve always loved you as a best friend, but i don’t know, i’ve been starting to feel something more. i think about you when you aren’t around, i see things and i think “hey gumi would like that.”, i wish that i was with you all of the time. and i’ve never really felt it romantically before, but i think that’ means i love you more than a best friend.”

megumi wanted to kiss you so badly in that moment. he thought he was in a dream, you were confessing your feeling for him. him of all people. he had thought of this moment so many times, but he never thought it would truly happen. he had gave into the thought that you would only love him romantically in his dreams.

he was silent for so long that you started to regret your words “megumi, if you don’t feel the same way-“

he immediately cut you off “i do! i really do. i was just thinking about how surreal this all is. i’ve loved you for so long but i never thought you’d feel the same way. especially about me.”

“what isn’t there to love about you?” you said softly and he felt the blood rush to his cheeks.

you were both silent for a moment and megumi looked down at your lips. they looked so soft, he always wondered what they would feel like on his. “can i kiss you?” he whispered.

“yes.” and slowly he leans in and places a hand on your cheek and his other on your waist. you place both of your hands on his shoulder and you close the gap between you.

the kiss was gentle, soft like you were both afraid to break the spell that had come over you both. but it was no spell, it was love so you took the initiative and started kissing him more passionately. his grip on your waist tightened as you parted your lips for him. he slowly slipped his tongue inside and you explored each others mouths.

he slowly brought his hand down to your shoulder and you wrapped your arms around his neck and you kissed him harder. you gasped into his mouth and there was a rumble in the back of his throat when you did so. you tugged on his shirt to pull him closer to you and he moved both of his hands to your waist.

you kissed for a while, a mess of gasps and lips and tongues. it felt euphoric, finally kissing him after waiting so long. when you finally pulled apart you rested your foreheads against each others and enjoyed the moment.

after a few seconds of silent you whispered “i’m glad that guy canceled, i’d rather be with you.”

he chuckled and whispered “me too.”

WRITTEN BY @pancakeszs (please do not repost or make any translations)

#jjk x reader #jjk #fanfic #megumi fushiguro #megumi x reader #fushiguro x reader #jujustu kaisen #jjk fanfic #x reader #fushiguro megumi #megumi x you #fluff #jjk fluff #megumi fluff #jujustu megumi

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kbagraces · 3 months

Text

us. - LN4

Lando Norris x ex girlfriend reader

After your break up you battle with missing him and hating him. You’d always been his secret so why isn’t she?

Loosely based on us. by Gracie Abram ft. Taylor Swift

Note: not proof read, I wrote this on the train so it could be awful! It’s a little angsty be warned, I just love this song atm!

masterlist🏹

You had both agreed to not stay in contact after your break up. You both agreed it’d be easier for the both of you. You’re not sure if it was but you wouldn’t be the one to give in, always being strong minded.

You fear that trait was what made Lando fall for you was actually what caused the demise of your relationship. You never felt the end of the relationship was near, you were willing to put up a fight for the relationship, Lando however seemed to give in a little more easily. Going silent in the arguments, ignoring your attempts to salvage the relationship.

The relationship was a secret to most to grieving him was hard, lonely and the sadness you felt quickly turned to anger. You were filled with resentment as he left you hidden but he had no problem showing off his new ladies.

Your one best friend who knew about the whole deal was tired of your wallowing and ranting decided to take you out for the night, an attempt at a distraction was anything but that.

The alcohol acted as a fuel for your rage filled yearning for your ex boyfriend. As soon as your friends back was turned your fingers slipped to the account of Lando on instagram. Having him blocked on every other social but you still kept tabs on his successes in the sport.

You typed the sad open ended message and hit send,

Y/n: I still don’t understand why you didn’t fight for us

An almost instant reply chimed up on your phone.

L: I couldn’t fight for something that was draining us both

Ouch

Y/n: I deserve an explanation not in the form of your ghosting. 2 years ending in one night doesn’t make sense.

L: I’m in London for fashion week if you needed to meet. I can meet you at the cafe.

You agreed, maybe you’d regret it in the morning but his every word seemed like lies to you now. Every good word he said about you, every time he pulled you out of pits of insecurity, you feared every i love you was a lie.

I show, you don’t.

How long was too long to wait. You sat abandoned once again at the cafe you used to once hold close to your heart, the spot where you first met was tainted once again by his lack of respect for you. After 45 minutes you lose all hope. Angry, hurt and embarrassed.

You’re a coward.

Seen 2 mins ago

Coward.

Later that night you’re scrolling mindlessly on instagram. Beautiful celebrities filling your feed from fashion week.

How much heartbreak could you take?

Newsource: Lando Norris spotted watching his alleged new flame walking at the Dior show this afternoon.

She’ll play her show and you’ll be watching

You’re fuming. How dare he? He’s making a mockery of you. Dedicating your time to him when he can’t even warn you of his absence. No explanation no apology, only to virtually go public with his new girlfriend when you were barley even allowed to tell your closest friends.

What he once told you was a protection tactic from his busy lifestyle fell into him actually being ashamed of you. How could he hide you for so long and now go public with a girl he barley knows?

And what seemed like fate, give it 10 months and you’ll be past it.

You slowly healed, after fully blocking him you began to move on with your life. Becoming more self assured, admitting to yourself that his actions shouldn’t reflect how you felt about yourself. You sometimes slipped into missing the good times, to quickly remind yourself you can’t always reminisce on the sometimes.

You can’t help but feeling partial joy when catching glimpses of the demise of his short lived 10 months he spent with his model girlfriend. You wonder if he regretted the day at the cafe, if he regretted the secret of the two of you. But that was his problem to deal with now.

Until missed calls were on the line. A Monegasque number rang through your phone, there was only one person it could be. One person who now regrets his actions all too late.

That night, you were talkin' false prophets and profits

Lando admitted to himself a long time ago that he made a huge mistake losing you. Using random models to distract himself from the guilt that surrounded his every thought. He knew he was a coward. You weren’t wrong. He couldn’t face you. He couldn’t explain his reasons to you. He never wanted you to be a secret, it began out of fear for your well-being but became a habit. When you begged for his attention he had too much pride to go back on his word.

Now, nearly a year on his misses you more than ever. He found himself in his nightly routine of fighting the urge to call you. The night he gave in he was met with his biggest fear as the line rang out. No answer. He pictured you in his head, he imagined you scoffing as his new number popped up on your phone. Watching as his call rang out.

He wanted to messaged you, he was desperate to hear from you. Maybe he could undo all his damages.

Do you miss us?

You laughed at the question.

Another call rang through, but this time you answered.

He gave you numerous shitty excuses, about his pride, acknowledging his lack of awareness for your feelings, him being caught up in the lifestyle.

“I spent so much time wondering if you regret the secret of us. It’s too late Lando. You completely shattered my self worth. I begged for you, your attention. It was always work and money above me. If you had just read up on the signs perhaps you could’ve learned something.”

“I loved you best I could at the time I know it wasn’t enough but I know what I want now. I can be better.” His voice was small, the tables were turned on him now. He now knew this was how you felt all the times he put you second best.

How ironic.

“You’re incomparable Lando. Fuck. I spent every day chasing how you made me feel when we were good but it wasn’t enough I need 100% from someone. I’m worth more than your half assed love, excuses and an apology which was frankly far too late.”

“I know I didn’t give you enough. But it’s us. You and me, we’re chemical y/n/n. It’s meant to be us.”

“It’s not Lando, it was. And it could’ve always been. You took me for granted and I’m not letting someone make me feel that way again. I wish you everything still. And you’ll do great things just without me.”

Mistaken for strangers, the way it was

Years had past. You both flitted between separate lovers. No one compared. Both of you spent time regretting the secret of you. You hated him for not giving you his all and he felt the same was about himself.

You began to open up to your friends about the failed relationship, never naming him but acknowledged that he would always be the one you wanted but would never have.

When you saw him again it was beyond painful. Like strangers who knew everything about each other.

The London club lights shadowed his face, you wondered if he recognised you with your shorter hair.

He watched your every move. Turning away when your eyes glanced his way. You were more beautiful than ever if that was even possible. He was still celebrating his win. He’d concoerned the partying scene in Monaco and now was celebrating with his UK friends and team.

He has imagined you being in the crowd as he stood on the podium and wondered whether you were secretly proud of him. The champagne clouded his judgment. He rarely drank so the impact was almost instant. He left his private table making his way over to you and your friends.

You had your back turned as you felt a hand on your bicep, your friends had glazed looks over their eyes as they looked as if God himself was stood behind you.

“Y/n/n.”

“Lando.” You smiled as you felt your friends, shriek at the interaction. Confused as to why this Formula 1 driver new you on a first name basis.

“Congratulations. You did it.” You broke the gap between the two of you pulling him in for a hug. You were proud. You still wished everything for him and were extremely over joyed when he won his first race. Something he’d be dreaming for your entire relationship, perhaps a factor that got in the way time to time.

“You know?” He was slightly surprised, unsure if you kept tabs on him anymore, probably not in the way he does to you.

“Of course I do. I’ll always be proud of your achievements. Especially this one.”

“Do you miss us?” He whispered looking into your eyes, the close proximity clouding his thoughts more than the alcohol was before.

You didn’t reply immediately, unfortunately the best times of your life was with him, but also some of your worst were because of him. It was the best kind of love, well sometimes.

“Do you regret the secret of us?”

Note: as always plz lemme know ur thoughts good or bad <3

#lando norris #f1 #ln4 #lando norris x reader #formula 1 #lando norris angst #f1 angst

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dear-ao3 · 4 months

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#congrats andie you made it #not a tag #from saph #saphs poll off the day

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percki · 5 months

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on my knees

tags: 18+, mature content, MDNI, Gale x reader, f!Tav, 2nd person pronouns, act 3, semi-public sex, porn w/o plot, lap dance, explicit consent, bondage, restraints, dom/sub, switch Gale, oral sex (m! and f! receiving), lap sex, hand jobs, overstimulation, orgasm denial, praise kink

ao3 link

“Urgh.” Rolan stands up, wiping a smear of Lorroakan’s blood off the sleeve of his robes. “Your aasimar friend is… violent.”

“I’m so sorry for the mess, Rolan. We can clean everything up –” You glance around the upper level of the tower, at the holy fire, congealed mud, pasty mixture of water and ash, and a fair amount of blood. At the wizard’s broken body, his face swollen with bruises, his mouth agape, sprawled at the foot of his throne of books. “– Um, but it might take a while.”

Rolan waves one long-nailed hand in your direction, his discolored face grateful – if not a bit exasperated. “Don’t worry about it, my friend. You have already done so much for me – consider my debt forgiven, and all will be well.” You smile at that, watching the tiefling wizard grunt with exertion as he hauls Lorroakan’s body towards the portal. “And, erm – help yourself to any treasures you come across, of course. I’ll be… downstairs…” He pushes the corpse through the shimmering portal, and sends you one last earnest, sharp-toothed smile over his shoulder. “...Burying a body.”

With that, Rolan pushes up the sleeves of his robes (sorcerer’s robes, trimmed in silver, unbefitting for a wizard, but they suit him well nonetheless) and steps through the portal, no doubt bracing himself to break the news to his new employees. ‘Hey, so remember those adventurers that just came in? They killed Lorroakan, violently, and I’m your boss now. Surprise!’ You’re sure the staff at Sorcerous Sundries have endured worse surprises; working for Lorroakan sounds akin to an eternity of torture in the Hells.

Aylin sheathes her sword and crosses over to you, removing her helmet. Her ash-blonde hair spills over her shoulders, and her gold-streaked face glistens with blood and sweat. “I shall be at your camp, if you have need of me,” she declares, and inclines her head in gratitude. “You fought well – as you have before. I remain thankful for your assistance.” Less wordy than usual – Lorroakan’s death must be weighing on her. You don’t blame her.

“Thank you, Dame Aylin,” you say, and bow in respect. She smiles at that, silver eyes gleaming.

“Ooh, wait!” Karlach runs up to you, her arms full of wine bottles – no doubt pilfered from Lorroakan’s hidden stash. The woman has a nose for alcohol – she could find a bottle of Baldur’s Grape blindfolded, disoriented, in the middle of a rainstorm. Shadowheart is close behind, a new cloak slung over her shoulders and a fair amount of gold filling her pockets. “We’ll probably go back to camp, too – Fringe and I have to try all this wine.”

“To make sure it isn’t poisoned,” Shadowheart adds, green eyes twinkling with humor. “You can handle yourselves without us, can’t you?”

You grin. “Save a bottle of Mermaid Whiskey for me.”

“Blech. You can have it all.” Karlach sticks out her split tongue, her smile wide. “See ya!” She bolts through the portal head-first: dangerous, with the amount of alcohol in her arms and the fiery infernal engine in her chest. You hear a distant crash, and wince.

Shadowheart follows close behind, calling, “Save the Tyche Pink!”

You hear the rush of wings and look over – Aylin is gone, too, a flash of silver in the clear blue sky. You watch her fly, the wind buffeting her white wings – deva-like, altogether unnatural, inhuman, beautiful in an untouchable, deadly, frightening way – as she soars. The sunlight seems to collect around her, like a remnant of her celestial mother’s power lingers, still, even after the heat and rage of battle is done.

“And then there were two.”

Gale’s voice snaps you out of your reverie. You look up, meeting his eyes. Dark brown, deep, gentle, shining with a light all too familiar. He’s standing by the throne of books, his right hand resting on a copy of Folktales of Faerún: The Angelic Aasimar.

You kneel over the ashes of the water myrmidon, sifting through the remains for treasure. Nothing. “I suppose Rolan will take a while…” You look around the tower once more, keen eyes picking out chests, display cases, bookshelves – anything that could hide a nice new set of robes for Gale, or a dagger for Astarion, or perhaps some armor for Wyll… “Will you cast Feather Fall? I want to look on the lower levels…” You trail off, reading something in Gale’s eyes. His fingers flex on the spine of the book, his shoulders thrown back, his lilac robes fitting his form well. Is he… posing? You smile and straighten, dusting ash off your sleeves, and move to his side, twining your left arm with his right, leaning comfortably against his side. “The Annals are in the vaults,” you say, knowing his primary objective here, halfheartedly attempting to lift his spirits. Thoughts of the Crown are dangerous – you have seen how easily the lure of power can corrupt, a thousand times (with Kagha in the Emerald Grove, with Minthara at the goblin camp, with Ketheric and Gortash and now Lorroakan). But despite your reservations, you know his ambition fuels him, that it drives his fire, that thoughts of greatness and respect do raise his spirits. “We could go down ourselves…”

Gale turns into you, resting his forehead on your shoulder, his beard scratching at your neck. He presses a kiss to your collarbone, and sighs deeply, inhaling your scent – blood and smoke and sweat, and the faintest hints of his cologne lingering on your skin. “I… Not yet,” he says vaguely, and kisses your neck again, deeper this time. Your breath hitches as he trails long, searing kisses up your neck, along the line of your jaw, leading up to your lips.

“Gale…” You whisper, voice low. “I –” He nips at your bottom lip, smiling against your chin, and you can feel your face heat up. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing,” he says devilishly, oak eyes sparkling, looking up at you through thick, dark lashes. “You’re beautiful,” he murmurs, and you can feel the vibration of his voice against your skin, sending a chill down your spine. “I can’t believe…” He blinks, as if waking from a dream, and cradles your jaw with his hand, straightening to his full height.

You kiss him, this time, tasting blood on his lips, and you stop, examining his face carefully. A bruise is forming at the bridge of his nose, blood tracing a path down the apex of his lips to his chin. You frown, brow creasing in worry. “You’re hurt.”

“Hm?” Gale touches his face gingerly, delicate, careful fingers prodding the quickly-purpling skin. “Oh. Yes. That. It’s quite alright –”

“It’s not alright,” you reply. “Let me heal you.” You take his shoulders in your hands and guide him into a seated position on Lorroakan’s throne, his back reclined against a collection of Ramazith’s annotated tomes. You kneel before him, positioning yourself between his legs, and summon a simple healing incantation, your hand hovering over his nose, the blue glow of the spell reflected in his eyes. “Te curo,” you murmur, and watch as his skin knits itself together, blood drying, swelling fading, the bruise vanishing beneath your fingers. “Better?”

“Better,” he admits, and looks at you with intent in his eyes, his gaze dark and focused on your features. “My love,” he starts, then hesitates. His face turns a delicious shade of pink.

“Yes?” You lean forward, hanging onto his words. He adjusts his legs, his thighs bracketing your shoulders, and you feel the slightest thrill at your compromising position, you in your armor and him in his robes, you kneeling before him like a supplicant at an altar.

“Rolan may not return for some time,” Gale says. “We could…” He stops again, biting his lip.

You guess his meaning immediately – your thoughts are remarkably in-tune. You can’t deny that you hadn’t thought about it, hadn’t wished for… Well. For Gale. Your peaceful nights since arriving in the Lower City have been few and far between, interrupted as they are: by vampires, by nightmares, by Orin’s ministrations. It’s been some time since you and Gale had time to yourselves.

And now, it seems, you have all the time in the world.

“Do you want to?” You question, and his eyes darken, his pupils expanding infinitesimally. You lean forward, cupping his cock with your hand, and smile to feel him already half-hard beneath your touch.

“I – yes,” he breathes, and raises his hand to cast Mage Hand, the incantation on his lips, when you catch him by the wrist, holding him still.

“No magic,” you say breathlessly, and straighten back up to your full height, smiling down at him. “As mortals do, remember?”

Gale watches you intently as you undo the first few buckles of your armor, leather slipping between your fingers. He sits up, reaching out his hands to help –

And you push him back.

“Don’t move,” you warn him, and plant one hand securely on his chest, holding him in place, as you draw a piece of silken fabric out of your pack. You hold it up for him to see, and upon realizing your intention, his eyes widen, pupils expanding impossibly wide. “Do you want this?” You ask, and he confirms with a nod of his head. You narrow your eyes and lean in, your face centimeters away from his, your breath ghosting on his lips. “Say it, please, love.”

He swallows thickly, eyes locked on yours, and says, his voice a rumble in his chest, “I want you to tie me up.”

You smile, and reward him with a bruising, biting kiss. “Good boy,” you murmur, and relish the way his face reddens, his jaw going slightly slack at the praise. “Lean forward for me?” He acquiesces, already holding his hands behind his back, and you climb up into his lap to twine the silk around his wrists, your touch featherlight and gentle. You test the knot, and smile. Not too tight – but he certainly won’t get any ideas about spellcasting. “Does that feel okay?”

“Yes,” he says into your shoulder, his voice muffled by the layers of your armor. You stand back up and step completely out of your clothes, metal buckles and buttons clinking as your many layers fall to the floor, and then you stand before Gale in your undergarments, your skin rising with goosebumps from the cool air, his eyes roving a path up and down your figure.

You feel a little warm from the intensity of his gaze, but you steel your nerves and continue. You reach out with your senses, using the knowledge of the Weave that Gale taught you of so long ago, and you can feel a soft tinkling at the edge of your perception, the distant sound of music, and you pull it towards you. In one of the pleasure dens far below, a slow, sensual number starts up, and you filter the sound through the available space, filling the tower with music.

Gale’s lips part as he realizes your plan. “Love,” he starts, “I haven’t –”

You feel a twinge of self-doubt, standing there near-nude before a man who is completely clothed. You have no experience with this whatsoever – apart from what you have read and seen – and you’re not sure that Gale loves you enough to forgive you if you make a total ass of yourself. “This is okay, right?” You rush to ask, holding your hands out for his before realizing that he’s still tied. You tuck them behind your back, straightening your posture. “Um – I know this is probably unusual, but, you know, in the Quarta Sune –”

Gale grins, his dimples making a rare appearance, and the sight of it pulls at your heartstrings. “You are perfect,” he promises, lifting his dark eyes up to your face. “This is perfect. Please, keep going.”

The slight rasp of his voice goes straight to your core, and you step forward before you’re entirely conscious of your movements, looping your arms around his neck and kissing him deeply. He leans into you with a groan, and you can feel his shoulders move, his hands resisting the bindings, and you pull back. “No touching,” you say softly, “right? This is about you.”

He lets out a frustrated sigh, his expression adorably resentful, and you laugh and kiss the bridge of his nose.

“Later,” you promise, and with that, you stand up, and turn away from him, facing the windows, the setting sun illuminating your skin. The music restarts, strings amping up, and you sway your hips to the tune, letting instinct take over. One, two, three, you breathe, feeling the rhythm run through you, and as the music crescendos, you drop down onto Gale’s lap, your ass just brushing over his thighs, hoping your undulating body looks sensual rather than spasmodic, and your efforts are rewarded with a delicious, blinding groan from behind you. You turn back around to face him – one, two, three – and lean in close, your scent intoxicating, his body warming your skin, and bracket his legs with your knees, one hand carding through his hair and the other slowly unbuttoning his robes, your knuckles barely brushing the velvet-soft hair on his chest. You slide your hands down the planes of his torso, and then, just as he’s leaning forward, again, anticipating your lips on his –

You step back again, turning, lifting your hands over your head and letting your hair down, smiling to yourself as you peek over your shoulder at his exasperated face. One, two, three. You let your ass ghost over his lap again, closer this time, holding there for a few moments longer than he considers tolerable, and just as his patience goes and his hips buck, you return to your starting position, looking down at him chidingly.

“Please,” he whispers, and you raise your brows, your hands going to the clasp of your bra. He watches, rapt, as you slide the fabric off your breasts and let it fall to the ground atop your discarded armor, your nipples peaking in the cool air. You repeat the motion with your panties, and you’re sure Gale catches sight of the soaked fabric as you toss it aside: his face turns a flattering shade of crimson, his arms straining against his silken ropes.

“How can I deny you?” You say, and with smooth, uninterrupted movements, you slide onto his lap, rocking your hips back and forth, tantalizingly slow, atop him. His robes slip open completely, and you can feel his cock straining against the fabric of his undergarments, barely brushing against the skin of your thighs. Your hands roam along the skin of his chest, thumbs swirling careful circles in the dips of his collarbone and shoulders, your palms warm against his skin. “You’re doing so well,” you praise him, and lean forward to kiss along the line of his clavicle, then slowly up his neck, sucking hard enough to bruise, tasting his sandalwood cologne, his soapy shaving cream, the sweat and salt lingering there, your tongue pulsing against his jaw. “So good for me,” you continue, running your hands through his hair, “you’re perfect, Gale.”

And then, surprising him, you slide off his lap and drop to your knees, slotting your body perfectly in between his legs, and in one swift motion, you free his aching cock from his undergarments and lean forward once more, fitting your lips around the head.

“O-oh,” he moans, straining to keep still as you take him deeper, your hands tracing patterns on the skin of his thighs, reaching up to his hips, your nails scratching lightly, and then, as you adjust yourself and push him back so as to get more leverage, you wrap one hand around his shaft and devote the other one to palm gently at his balls, still a touch too gentle. “Mmm – more,” he sighs, and you obey, licking a stripe up the underside of his cock and then fitting it back in your mouth, deep enough to brush the back of your throat, pre-cum salty on your tongue. You hollow your cheeks, looking up at him through lowered lashes, and his mouth falls open, releasing the most pleasurable moans and groans, sighs and mewls slipping between his lips, chanted noises that may be words – you catch the sound of your name, and please, and yes, in the chorus of sounds that escape his chest, rising and falling in octave with every swipe of your tongue and bob of your head. “P-please,” he says again, “please, let me –”

You guess his meaning, and reach behind him; the movement sending his cock to the very back of your throat, and his back arches in pleasure; and pull the strings of his bindings, untying his hands. The moment he’s free, he takes your head in his hands, cradling your jaw, and lets his fingers twine in the strands of your hair as you suck with renewed eagerness, sliding back nearly completely only to take him in fully again, the feel of his cock in your mouth dizzying, intoxicating, sending white-hot shivers through your body –

You glance down, and through the haze of pleasure, through the shadows of sunset, through the sweat and slick on your body, you see a flash of blue cupping your cunt, and you can suddenly feel the gentle, not-quite-there brush of the Mage Hand’s fingers against your clit. You war between pleasure and indignation for a moment – and indignation wins. You pull back, Gale’s weeping cock inches away from your mouth but still suspended in midair, and he huffs, putting his hands over his eyes, his pleasure cut short just on the path to climax. “Why did you –”

“No magic,” you repeat, and you can feel the Mage Hand dissolve. Gale peeks out from through his fingers, caught, and not the least bit ashamed. “Do I need to tie you up again? Completely, this time?”

“I –” His cock twitches, beads of precum leaking from the tip, stunning the both of you into silence.

You let a devilish grin slide across your face. “Oh. You want me to tie you up, love? Top to tip, completely trussed up for me?” You pull away from him and reach in your pack for more ribbon. “Red or purple, my sweet?”

Gale manages an arrogant smile, his face still flushed red. “Purple, of course.”

“Good choice,” you grin, and stand, running the ribbons through your hands reverently. “This will only take a minute,” you promise. “Why don’t you take those bothersome clothes off before I get started?”

He does, and you let your eyes run over his figure appreciatively for a minute before going to work. Hands on the ‘arms’ of the throne, the ribbon secured around a stack of encyclopedias. His legs against the respective ‘legs’ of the throne, straining slightly against his bonds. You stand before him, and he angles his hips up slightly, his eyes pleading.

“So cooperative,” you murmur, running your hands gently up his thighs. “So patient. So good.” You lift your hand to your mouth and spit on your fingers, holding eye contact, and he breathes shakily as you wrap your hand around his cock, leaning forward, mouthing kisses along his neck and collarbone. You start slowly, tantalizingly, pumping your hand along his length with a careful, measured speed that makes Gale’s breath hitch in his throat.

“Please – more,” he moans, his lips chasing yours. “Faster.”

You acquiesce, moving quicker, twisting your wrist the way you know that he likes. His breaths come faster, too, a mindless stream of yes and please and more coupled with your name falling from his mouth. You kiss him with bruising intensity, feeling his cock twitch in your fingers, his body straining against his bonds.

He comes with a muffled yell, his eyes rolling completely back in his head, and you kiss him fiercely as his come paints your stomach and thighs where you sit atop him. “Please – gods – please, untie me, let me –”

You smile against his lips and loosen the ribbons, yelping when his arms encircle you with surprising strength, lifting you up by your thighs and laying you out on the tile floor of the tower, the ground cold on your skin, your head canted back as Gale trails kisses down your thighs. “Ah – Gale,” you sigh as his fingers whisper up the inside of your legs, your skin rising with goosebumps. “I can’t –” You try to lift your head, to see where he is and what he’s doing, but your neck won’t cooperate. “What –”

“I hope you don’t mind,” Gale murmurs into your thigh, his hand lifting your leg to his lips, his beard tickling your skin pleasantly. “There’s only so long I can go without magic, my love. I thought –” Here, his tongue slides up to your cunt, tracing around your lips gently, and you moan, your boneless body arching in pleasure. “I thought you might enjoy feeling how I felt. Constrained. At my mercy.” His tongue winds a circle around your clit, and your breaths come faster, your thighs shaking madly. “Do you?”

“Do I – ah – what?”

“Enjoy it,” Gale says into your cunt, and the vibration makes you shudder.

“I – yes, I – please, I want to touch you, I want to –”

“Mmm,” Gale hums, his tongue working careful, restrained circles around your clit, dipping down to taste your slick. “Not yet.”

It’s been less than two minutes, and you’re already shaking, riding high, your eyes unfocused, as Gale takes you apart with his tongue. The painted constellations of the ceiling dance in and out of focus, and your moans echo around the circular tower, a mix of yes and please and Gale falling from your mouth, a reminder of the way you coaxed Gale’s orgasm from him with delicate fingers not five minutes before. “Gale, I – oh, gods, I can’t – please, I want to see you, I –”

The spell breaks, and you lift your head to see Gale’s face completely buried in your cunt, his sweaty hair spread out on your thighs, his eyes closed in ecstasy, and the image is enough to send you over the edge, a scream in your throat, your legs shaking wildly as you come, Gale’s tongue still working at you gently, until the sensation is too much and you kick him softly, signaling get off me, because your vocal cords aren’t working at the moment.

“You’re gorgeous,” he says, and crawls up to kiss you, and you taste yourself on his tongue, salty-sweet and heady. “But we should probably go before Rolan comes back. I suspect we won’t have an opportunity to take advantage of his hospitality again.”

“Gale…” You wind your arms around his neck and kiss him deeply, your eyes fluttering shut. “You might have to Dimension Door us out of here. I don’t think my legs will move.”

“I’ll carry you,” he smiles, and helping you stand, he laces his robes back up and aids you in buckling your armor. “Now come. There’s a bath at the Elfsong that’s calling my name.”

You sigh softly, leaning your head into his shoulder, and watch dreamily as he conjures the portal. “Wait – what about the Annals?”

“Oh.” Gale looks down at the lower levels of the tower. “I suppose we’ll have to come back tomorrow.” He looks almost downcast, but then the expression fades, and he’s just Gale again, smiling at you. “Let’s go.”

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rosesareredrosa · 1 month

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You're Not Your Father

Mattheo Riddle x fem reader

Summary: Mattheo doesn't believe he makes y/n feel safe because he's Voldys son and y/n makes him see that Mattheo is not like Voldy

w/c: 1289

Mattheo Riddle stood in the dimly lit corridor, leaning against the cold stone wall, his arms crossed over his chest. His dark eyes, usually so intense, softened as they met mine. I approached cautiously, my footsteps echoing in the quiet until I was close enough to see the faint worry etched on his face.

"I make you feel... safe?" Mattheo repeated, his voice gruff and filled with disbelief. He balked at the idea, furrowing his brow. "You're sure? Me?"

I smiled, a small, gentle curve of my lips. I wanted to reach out and touch him, to reassure him, but I held back for now. "You seem all gruff and angry, Mattheo, but you do honestly care about me. At least it feels like you do."

His jaw tightened, and he looked down at the ground, a heavy silence settling between us. I could see the conflict in his eyes, the struggle to reconcile what I was saying with the image he had of himself. How could he not see what I saw? To him, he was nothing more than the son of the Dark Lord, destined to carry on his father’s legacy. Darkness had always been his identity, his fate.

"You don't understand," he muttered, frustration and desperation lacing his voice. "I’m not the kind of person who makes anyone feel safe. I'm not... good."

My heart ached hearing him say that. I knew he believed it, but I couldn’t let him think that way. I took a step closer, refusing to let him retreat into the shadows. "I know who you are, Mattheo. I know who your father is. But you’re not him."

His reaction was immediate—he recoiled slightly, his eyes narrowing as if my words had struck him. "I'm his son," he snapped back, anger flaring. "I have his blood, his darkness. People fear me because of him—because they think I’ll become him."

His voice was filled with a raw anger that made my chest tighten. But beneath that anger, I could hear the fear, the doubt. He was so used to being seen as a threat, as someone to be feared, that he couldn’t comprehend the idea of being anything else.

"But you’re not him," I insisted, my voice firm but gentle. I stepped closer, my heart pounding in my chest as I reached out to him. My fingers brushed against his, and I could feel the tension in his body. "You’re not defined by him, no matter what anyone says. You get to choose who you are."

Mattheo shook his head, a bitter laugh escaping his lips. "You don't know what you're talking about," he said, but his voice wavered, the conviction in his words faltering. "I can’t be anything but this. It’s in my blood."

I could see the war raging inside him—the fear that he was doomed to follow in his father’s footsteps, that darkness was his destiny. But I refused to let him believe that. I took another step closer, my hand gently intertwining with his. He didn’t pull away, and that gave me hope.

"You’re not your father, Mattheo," I whispered, my voice filled with all the emotion I’d been holding back. "You’re your own person. You have a choice. And I see you—the real you."

For a moment, he just stared at me, his dark eyes searching mine as if trying to find some hint of deception. But there was none. I meant every word. I saw past the cold exterior, past the reputation he carried like a shield. I saw the boy who cared, who was capable of so much more than he gave himself credit for.

Slowly, he exhaled, the tension in his body starting to ease. "Maybe," he started, his voice barely above a whisper, "maybe you’re the only one who’s ever made me feel like I could be that person."

I smiled, a small tear slipping down my cheek as I closed the distance between us. I reached up, gently cupping his cheek in my hand. He leaned into my touch, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment, as if he was allowing himself to believe it too.

"You don’t have to be anyone else," I whispered, my voice trembling with emotion. "Just be you. That’s enough for me."

For the first time, I saw something in Mattheo's eyes that I hadn’t seen before—hope. It was faint, almost imperceptible, but it was there. And as we stood there, in the shadows of the castle, I knew that maybe, just maybe, I could be the light he needed to guide him out of the darkness he had lived in for so long.

He opened his eyes again, and for a moment, we just stood there, locked in a silent exchange that spoke louder than any words ever could. I could feel the heat of his skin against my palm, the subtle tremor of his breath as he struggled to hold onto the fragile hope I’d offered him. It was as if he was standing on the edge of a precipice, torn between stepping back into the safety of the darkness he knew so well and daring to reach for the light I held out to him.

"You don’t understand what it’s like," he finally whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "Every day, I feel like I’m fighting against something inside me, something that’s always trying to pull me under. It’s like there’s this darkness in my blood, in my very soul, and no matter how hard I try, it’s always there, waiting to take over."

I tightened my grip on his hand, my heart breaking for him. "You’re stronger than you think, Mattheo," I said softly. "You’ve been fighting that darkness your whole life, and you’re still here. That takes strength. You’re not alone in this fight anymore. I’m here with you."

His eyes widened slightly, as if the idea of having someone by his side, someone who truly cared about him, was something completely foreign. "Why?" he asked, his voice barely more than a breath. "Why would you want to help me? I’m... dangerous. I’m the son of Voldemort, Y/N. I’m not someone you should be around."

I shook my head, feeling a fierce determination rise within me. "You’re not your father," I repeated, my voice steady. "You’re Mattheo. And I see you. I see the person you are, not the person you’re afraid you might become. You have a good heart, no matter how much you try to hide it. And I’m not going to walk away just because it’s hard. I’m not afraid of you, Mattheo."

The silence stretched between us again, thick with unspoken emotions. I could see the turmoil in his eyes, the way he struggled to accept what I was saying. But I also noticed something else—something that made my heart swell with hope. For the first time, he looked like he wanted to believe me, like he was daring to hope that maybe, just maybe, he could be something more than his father’s legacy.

Tentatively, he lifted his other hand to cover mine, holding it against his cheek as if it were the only thing anchoring him to reality. "I don’t know how to be anything else," he admitted, his voice trembling. "But I want to try... for you."

I smiled, my heart swelling with a mixture of relief and love. "That’s all I ask," I whispered, my thumb brushing gently against his skin. "Just try. I’ll be here every step of the way."

And at that moment, as we stood together in the shadows, I realised that we were both finding something we hadn’t known we were looking for—a sense of safety and belonging in each other.

#slytherin x reader #slytherin boys #angst with a happy ending #fluff #mattheo riddle #mattheo x you #mattheoxreader #mattheo x y/n #mattheo fluff #mattheo angst #harry potter

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gloxk · 11 months

Text

Priorities.

(Eren Yeager)

A/N: I need eren so bad it’s not even funny. 😾. Anyway im almost at 100 followers (which omg ik it’s not a ‘lot’ but i literally didn’t expect this account to go anywhere so..TYSM! 🙀🫶🏽! ) This is a lil sum short to show my appreciation! and yes im sorry it was rushed.

Summary: It’s not nice to tease your boyfriend durning a heated match. You had to learn that the hard way.

smut, unprotected s*x, creampie, pet names (ma) , dry humping, etc+ w/c: 0.8k

smut under the cut!!!

You watched as your boyfriend’s fingers spam control buttons. He was on the game playing with his friends. Playing with anything other than your clit was ridiculous. Especially since you were sitting there so pretty for him. He was raging because Armin was already on his 17th kill. You walked up behind your boyfriend trailing kisses down his neck. He turned his face looking you up and down. His Jade eyes admired your body. “Hmm?” his lips turned into a sly smile. His eyes never leaving yours. He gave you a quick kiss. His soft lips pressed against yours. lip gloss coated his mouth. “I’ve been waiting all night Eren. C'mon.” it was obvious he didn’t want to get off the game. Not until he beat Armin. “Chill, one more round and I’m done. for real.”

How many times was he going to say that? It’s been one more round for the past twenty minutes. He was dead set on beating Armin. You just accepted that he wasn’t going to leave without a fight. He patted his thigh signaling you to sit down. To be fair you would much rather sit on his face but this was fine. He nuzzled into your neck giving you gentle kisses. You couldn’t help but notice his growing bulge that you perched yourself upon. it was like your clit had a mind of its own. you rubbed against his bulge, slightly—rocking your hips side to side. His game continued but his breath hitched in every other sentence. Your slight movement got more noticeable as you moved a little bit faster. He must have noticed because he started to grind against you. His pace slowly increased going faster and faster. It was no longer a subtle whine against your ass but instead more of a deliberate hip thrust, making you slightly bounce. You continued to grind against his sweatpants. You could tell he was getting needy—his hands a little bit more sweaty, his breath getting a little erratic. He was getting desperate grinding a little harder against you. “I’m going to sleep.” yawing, you tried to move off of him, but to no avail. His grip around your waist made it impossible. “Nah, go ahead and rethink that ma,” he growled in your ear sending a small tingle down your spine. He threw his headset on the floor turning his full attention to you. “What you thought you were gonna tease me and walk away? That’s funny.”

You were bent over the desk with ease, he rubbed your clit through your yoga pants. “Did ya wear this f’me?” the answer was yes—yes you did wear those just for his eyes. To analyze how good your ass looked in the pretty pink yoga pants he bought you. “Mhm.” you moaned, his fingers speeding up at your answer. His hands grabbed your waist pulling you against his abdomen. “Fuck—you make me go crazy.” You arched your back at his words. They repeated over and over in your head. His voice was low and deep, the right combination to have you soaking. He yanked down your pants leaving you in your underwear. His fingers traced your pretty pink thong, he rubbed the bottom feeling how wet you were. You heard his low chuckle, “Damn ma how long have you been wanting me to fuck ya? Well too bad we ain’t got a condom.” you barely had time to comprehend what he said before he rammed into you. His thrusts were slow at first, deep and sensual. You held on to the edge of the desk digging your nails into it. Some pictures and other decor fell off as his pace increased. The melodic sound of your moans filled the room, accompanied by the sound of skin colliding. His thrust became more aggressive as his palm wrapped around your throat. The sensation of your airways being restricted made your mind fog. All you could focus on was his movements, every single stroke. His fingertips danced over your clit, making you clench around him. His chest pressed against your back, he hovered over your ear. His breathing infiltrated your ears, inhale, exhale. “All mine.” his palm left your throat and clawed your hips driving himself in faster.

You yelped as his nails scratched off skin. it was overwhelming, his fingers, his thrusts, his words, everything about him. You couldn’t hold on anymore. You felt your eyes roll back—moaning his name as you came. He didn’t stop plowing into your throbbing pussy. Watching you twitch at the overstimulation. “Eren—fuck—I can’t!” You tried to push him away with your hand, in an instant it was pinned behind your back. “Nah, ma you can take it. I know you can.” He was bringing you to another orgasm whether you wanted it or not. You decided to tease him, this was all your fault. It was your fault you were getting fucked like a stupid slut. Actions have consequences, if you don’t want the consequences don’t do the actions to cause them. “Fuck m’ almost there.” his thrust slowed giving you deep strokes, the kind of strokes that you tell your friends about. He threw his head back biting his lip. A sudden wave of warmth filled you, coating your walls. Liquid dripped down your leg, your face was plastered with a look of terror. You turned around slowly to meet Eren's gaze. “What’s wrong ma? You don’t want me to make you a mommy?” He gave you long strokes, fucking his cum into you. A single thought couldn’t be evaluated in your scrambled mind, you incoherently mumbled out “Mhm…make me a mommy.” He gave you a few kisses before picking you up and laying you down on the bed. He went back to playing his game as if nothing happened, you listened to him spill profanities as you fell unconscious.

You would absolutely regret your decision in the morning but it didn’t matter now <3.

♡──────────────────♡

#Eyena writes♡#eren x black reader smut #eren x you #eren x black fem!reader #eren x reader #eren x black reader #eren yeager #eren jeager smut #eren smut #eren aot #eren jeager x reader #eren x y/n #plug eren

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loose-angel · 2 years

Text

My Princess | Neteyam

pairing: Neteyam x na'vi! reader summary: What happens when you suddenly realize your feelings for your childhood best friend, Neteyam Sully? tags: fluff, miscommunication (a tiny bit), just cute stuff :3, childhood friends to lovers w/c: 1.8k notes: aaaaaa i hope u guys like this T T took me sooooo long to write,, i still have crazyyyyy writers block but im doing my best to make the best shit for this community <333 anw enjoy the read!!

You had grown up incredibly close to Neteyam. Watching as his youthful features had turned sharp, watching as he filled out his body, shoulders broadening, voice deepening, and muscles forming. Truth be told, you had not entirely noticed the change. You saw him everyday, it was almost a routine to be around one another, whether you’re dining with the Sullys, or Neteyam (and his siblings) dining at yours, you two were attached by the hip. Inseparable. So it came as a surprise to you when one day, you suddenly noticed just how much your best friend had changed.

He greeted you in the morning, just like every morning, both him and Lo’ak offering you flowers they picked out on the way to your house. It was more of a brotherly-love action than anything else. Though you noticed something different.

“Good morning princess,” Neteyam smirked as Lo’ak bowed, offering his flower obnoxiously.

Was Neteyam’s voice always this low? Did his smile always make you feel fluttering in your stomach? Since when did his arms get so big?

“Morning losers,” You cleared your throat, bashful, you looked away, letting your braids cover your eyes. “Thanks for the flowers.” you grab the flowers out of their hands and place them in a vase along with the rest of the flowers they had gifted you this week.

“So what’s the plan today?” You ask.

Lo’ak throws an arm around you, pulling your body into his, “No idea, why don’t you play dolls with Kiri or something.” You rolled your eyes.

“Yeah, you know what? I’d rather spend time with Kiri than your sorry asses.” With that, you began sprinting towards the Sully home. As you ran, you hear similar steps behind you. You turn around and are met with the sight of the two Sully brothers chasing after you. You squeal. You picked up the pace, light on your toes.

Your fear dissipates as you approach the entrance to the Sully household, you were a few feet away when you felt a heavy impact on your body. You fall to the ground with a grunt.

You look up at your attacker, hissing.

“So sorry princess,” Neteyam fusses, pushing himself up to make it so that he is hovering over you, instead of putting his entire body mass on your small frame. This was usual between the two of you. You guys always wrestled and more often than not, Neteyam wins those sessions. So why is it now that you flush under his gaze? Before you approach your conclusion, Neteyam waves a hand in front of your face.

“Get up lazy skxawng!” Lo’ak snickers as he passes the both of you. You push yourself up and dust your loin cloth, clearing your throat.

You hated how you were so affected over his little nickname for you. Neteyam (and Lo’ak) have been calling you princess ever since you three learned how to talk. Again, it was more of a brotherly-love kind of thing, especially because you grew up with no other siblings after you. So they decided to become your brothers, yet now, you can’t seem to feel anything less than a crush on your mock ‘older brother’.

Kiri steals you away from her brothers the moment you step foot in their home, dragging you into a rather isolated corner.

“Y/N! I feel there’s something you’re not telling me,” She grinned, peering up at you cheekily. There was nothing to hide from Kiri, you told her every single thing that has ever happened to you, and she does the same.

“I’m not hiding anything.” You muttered. You hid nothing except your raging crush on her older brother, but she didn’t need to know that.

“Are you sure?” Kiri leans in, “Are you sure you’re not gonna tell me about your crush on my older brother?” You gasped, hands flying to cover her mouth. How did she find out? You could’ve sworn that you didn’t tell anyone, at all!

Kiri licks your palm, forcing you to let go. “So my suspicions were right,”

“Kiri rutxe, don’t tell anyone, especially him,” You nod in Neteyam’s direction, the both of you look over. The eldest Sully has Tuk on his hip, bouncing around and whispering jokes into their youngest’s ear, it’s an endearing sight. One that has your heart clenching and mind racing. One that lets your mind wander into the life of a family with Neteyam.

“I won't, but your ogling heart eyes won’t help hide it.” Kiri interrupted your thoughts, rolling her eyes, falling onto her side. Your eyes shift from the siblings to the na’vi girl. You bit your lip.

“Yeah, yeah, okay, I’ll try to hide it better.”

A few days had passed, and in this time span, you decided to completely hide yourself from Neteyam, which was a pretty difficult job. He had gone to your house for the first two days, and you had kindly asked your parents to turn him away with the lame excuse that you were sick.

On the third day, Lo’ak comes knocking at your door.

“Lo’ak, why are you here, I told mama to not let Neteyam in.” You sighed, eyeing down the na’vi boy who now leans against the entrance to your ‘room’.

“Yeah tsmukan, not me, skxawng.” Lo’ak plops himself into your hammock, pushing against your limbs rather roughly. You scooch over and he lays next to you, throwing an arm over your waist.

“So why are you avoiding us?” He hummed, leaning to look over at you. You turn your head to avoid his gaze.

Over the course of your isolation, you pondered over your feelings. Coming to accept that you simply couldn’t live a life without Neteyam. You tried imagining a life with the other clan members but nothing felt the same. Hell, you even tried imagining Neteyam with another mate, and your mind simply couldn’t conjure up an image. You didn’t want to tell anyone. If news spread that you, a simple Omaticaya girl, had great feelings for Neteyam, the future olo’eyktan, the whole clan would laugh at you. Yet you couldn’t bring yourself to lie to Lo’ak.

“I needed time to think,” You mumbled, hoping your answer would stave off his curiosity for the time being. Lo’ak only hummed, waiting for you to continue. “I needed to figure out my feelings.”

“For tsmukan right?” You audibly gasped, did Kiri tell him?

“Don’t go crazy, I figured it out on my own, it’s not like it wasn’t blaringly obvious anyway.” You groan and tuck your face away from the world. How many more people have noticed?

“You better tell him soon, or some other girl might snatch him.” Lo’ak sing-songed, placing a foot on the ground to rock the hammock from side to side.

“Fine, fine, you convinced me,” You rolled your eyes, “I just want to get it over with anyway.” Just as you said, you hoped that you can get these feelings behind you as fast as possible and return back to normal. Truthfully, the past few days were absolutely miserable without Neteyam’s presence, but you simply couldn’t bring yourself to hang out with him. It was difficult to just look over your new found feelings for your best friend and you actually felt like it was unfair to him for you to do such a thing, taking advantage of him not knowing about your feelings for him for some kind of gratitude.

Though, today was different. Today you were going to meet up with Neteyam, tell him how you feel, you’ll laugh at it for a minute or two, and resume your normal lives, nothing could go wrong.

After a few hefty minutes of searching, you finally find Neteyam in a calmer, less dense area of the forest. You make no effort to conceal your presence as you approach him. He’s turned away from you, yet his ears tell you that he’s well aware that it’s you who is nearing him.

“Ma’Neteyam,” You greet softly, reaching out your hand, you run the tips of your fingers on the side of his arm, the muscle tensing underneath your touch.

“Ma’Y/N,” He turns to you, gaze hardened, “My princess, where have you been?”

Your ears flatten against your head underneath the boy’s gaze. You knew it was wrong to basically cut contact for a few days but you had to! There was nothing else you wanted to do at that time but to get to the bottom of your feelings, and now, you know. You know that you’re so deeply in love with your best friend that it pains you to imagine him with someone else, though there is not much you could do about it.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to –” Before you could continue, Neteyam wraps his arms around you and pulls you into his chest, nuzzling his nose onto the top of your head. The both of you sink into the hug, muscles gradually relaxing. Although you would love to stay like this, in his arms, until the end of eternity, you still needed to come clean to Neteyam.

After a while, you pull your head away from his chest.

“Neteyam,” You called out, peering up at him through your eyelashes. “I must tell you something.”

He hums and says nothing more, opening his eyes, his soft gaze meeting yours.

“I promise you’re gonna laugh your ass off after hearing this, but here I go,” You take a breath, “I like you, Neteyam. Hell, I love you even! I spent the last few days away from you because I needed to figure it all out, I just suddenly felt. . . everything for you.” You shift your eyes away from his own towards the end of your confession. You wait a beat or two, waiting for a chuckle, a laugh, anything.

“I don’t want anything from you ma’Neteyam, I just wanted to get this off my chest and we can go back to normal.” You look back up at the boy, now nervous over his lack of reaction. He’s just looking at you. You try to decipher what he’s thinking, yet his eyes tell you nothing. His ears are flat against his head, and his tail is swinging wildly behind him, but he has yet to say a word.

“Are you serious?” He muttered. You gulped nervously.

You had prepared yourself for a scenario that Neteyam wouldn’t find any of this funny and your relationship with him would fade away as you know it, yet all the preparation in the world won’t save you from the intense heartache that you feel rising.

Before you could say anything else, Neteyam picks you up into his arms.

“Princess this is great!” He grins, spinning you around, you squeal in shock, hands tight on his wrists as he continues to spin you.

“I thought you had begun to hate me, I’m so glad you like me too Y/N, you have no idea how long I’ve waited for you to feel the same about me!” Neteyam is rambling at this point, his hands still holding onto your waist even after he sets you back on the ground.

“You like me too?” You trailed off, you could barely process what was reality at this point. Though the warmth that bubbled in your chest suggested otherwise.

“I always did Yawne.”

#neteyam x y/n #neteyam x you #neteyam sully #neteyam x reader #avatar #avatar way of water #avatar fics #loak sully #kiri sully #tukitrey #neteyam #fluff #neteyam fluff #neteyam fanfiction #neteyam fic

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yeonbinwyd · 2 days

Text

a place to sit

pairing: subfem!reader x softdom! Beomgyu

synopsis: you’re looking for a new place to live and your brothers friend had a spare room at his place. he’s always had a crush on you but now he gets to live with you. What more can he dream of?

genre (w/tags): smut, (minors dni), kinky sex, body exploration, masturbation, protected sex, explicit language

Word count: 1354

“Thanks again for letting her stay” your brother thanks Beomgyu as helps you with the last of your boxes.

“No problem bro. I got you.” He dabs up your brother with a back pat. You’re already inside unpacking your things. You were thankful you had a place to stay for the upcoming semester but it had to be with him? The two of you barely get along. Beomgyu always has a witty comment or two. Maybe even a joke here and there. It drove you nuts so for him to let you stay with him was a bit of a shocker. Honestly who are you to turn down free housing?

Beomgyu walks up to your door, leaning against the frame. He crosses his arm and shakes his head.

“It looks like you’re stuck with me” he chuckles.

“Not a chance. I’ll find another spot soon it’s just temporary” you bite back. He purses his lips.

“You really think you’ll find a place? The semester starts in a week.” He rubs in. You stay silent. “That’s what I thought.” He chimes as he steps closer to you, looking down at you while shaking his head with a smirk. You instinctively shove him forwards. He keeps his snicking smile, while leaving your room. Whoa he looked really good looking at you like that. You couldn’t help but feel a little bit attracted to him Beomgyu was a cute guy and he knew that. The last thing you needed was to let him know you thought so too.

After you finish unpacking, you change into something more comfortable, and head into the kitchen. He was in the living room, just playing his game. You join him, taking a seat. He glances at you with the corner of his eye. Beomgyu was a bit distracted by what you were wearing. It was just a short pj set. Your legs exposed to the point where you could see your panties. Your shirt was a bit seen thru too, with your nipples poking through. He swallows hard and turns his attention to his game. Suddenly he smells the candle you lit. It fills the room evoking a pleasant feeling throughout his body. It automatically makes him think of you. How sweet you must taste. He can feel himself getting hard at the thought of getting a glimpse of your cunt. He tried one last time to divert his attention to his game but he sees movement. Beomgyu looks over to see you applying a moisturizing lip mask, making your lips soft and kissable. He’s at his limit. He stands up quickly to avoid you seeing anything, then dashes out of sight. You shrug and turn off his game.

“This might be more difficult than I thought.”

Beomgyu takes a glance down at his pants to see a raging hard on. He made a promise to your brother to look out for you but he’s as much trouble as the guys that go after you.

“Maybe I can rub one out really fast” he thinks to himself. He shuts his door and without thinking starts to jerk off his hard on. He squeezes around the tip nice and snug. Beomgyu lets out a low groan in satisfaction. He rapidly jerks himself off to the thought of you. Just being able to touch you, hearing you beg for more, he was going insane. He came quickly and quietly as he heard your footsteps coming closer.

“Hey you ok?” you ask outside the door. He had been gone for a minute, so your curiosity got the best of you. You heard everything on the other side of the door. He may have tried to be quiet but it didn’t work with those thin walls.

“Yeah I’m fine.” He manages to reply. Beomgyu gets himself together then opens the door to find you standing behind it. The two of you lock eyes, Beomgyu swallows hard again.

“You know if you were into me, you should have just said so” you tell him with great pride as you turn from him. Hearing that he sighs in relief then gives you a hug from behind.

“You can’t tell your brother” he warns.

“What if I want you too?” You confess. He furrows his brow in confusion at first then he looks at you with the same smirk as before.

“You wore this on purpose?” Beomgyu calmly asks. You shrug your shoulders neither agreeing or disagreeing. He doesn’t waste any time and attacks your neck. Still behind you, he cups your chest, fondling your nipples. You gasped, caught off guard by his sudden movements. You get adjusted at the glorious feeling and rest your hand on the back of his neck to give him more access. He accepts, placing kisses down your neck to your breasts cupping them in the process. Now in front, he travels down even further to take a peek at what he’s been dreaming of.

“Can you do me a favor? He asks. You nod in agreement. “Can you sit on my face?” He asked with confidence. He wants to see you in full view without any breaks. You agree and without wasting any more time, he pulls you to his bed. Beomgyu lies down flat, waiting for you to take a seat. You pull off what you were wearing, then position yourself over his face. You gently lower yourself but he locks his arms around your thighs, forcing you to come down aggressively. He immediately moans inside you, giving you vibrations throughout your body. His tongue starts by making circles around your clit. His grip was strong, so strong there wasn’t much space to break free. You already feel the build up. As he keeps going, his tongue now is darting inside your pussy while cupping your ass checks. Beomgyu is licking up and down your walls while burying his face in you. He’s drunk off of you and can’t get enough. He lifts you up for a moment for air and he gets back in there. You spot a condom on his side table and reach for it. Beomgyu catches on and helps you lean to over the grab it, still holding on you tight. You grab it, tearing it open. You can see he’s fully erect and ready for the plunge. You help him with his sweats, releasing him and position the condom on his member. He growls at just your slight touch and starts to feel the condom in place. Beomgyu lets you go and helps you move forward to go on top. This time you were in control, you slide down slowly, taking him in. He covers his mouth as an unbearable whine was released from his lips. He had finally felt all of you. It was better than he had imagined. You thrusted forward and back for him, making him see stars. He was overwhelmed but the pleasure he was feeling was phenomenal. Beomgyu got it together, wanting to make you feel good too, he pulled you back to rest on him and began stroking up. You started to whine in his ear. It was giving his power. He speed started to pick up.

“Please Beomgyu” you begged. Hearing you cry his name like his dreams made him want to finish right there. He pulls out and helps you forward so he can fuck you from behind. He grabs a fist full of hair while reentering. Your back arches. At this point, you both don’t care at the amount of noise you were making. The sounds of sex filled the room and you both loved it.

“Say my name again baby” he demands.

“Beomgyu fuck me please” you manage to obey.

“Oh god I’m so close.” He moans.

“Me too Don’t stop” you demand in return. The slaps pick up, deeper and deeper. He pulls your hair back, forcing you to sit up. You both finishing. Beomgyu lets you go while pulling out. You grip your neck, shocked at how wild he was.

“I’m so sorry. Did I hurt you?” He asked concerns

“No I loved it.”

#txt hard hours #txt smut #beomgyu x reader #beomgyu x you #beomgyu x female reader #beomgyu smut

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rae-writes · 1 year

Text

what if. . .

om brothers x reader

wc : 1.k

warnings : light angst

synopsis : what if it wasn’t Lucifer who lost his memory? [lesson 37-38]

The metaphorical dam had broken loose, sending a wave stronger than anything Lotan himself would have caused to come crashing against the House of Lamentation.

It was suffocating. All six of the remaining brothers were distraught— Lucifer more than anyone. Because he should’ve known, he tells himself- screams at himself. He should’ve realized. What’s the point of being the eldest if he couldn’t save his brother from this?

The self hatred was all in vain, really, when Diavolo shows up with Barbatos in tow. When he practically spits out the fact that this happened because of you. Your power and your pacts and your ties to the three realms caused it. Caused harm to one of the people you care most for.

And you were angry- livid - if the green drowning out your own eye color had anything to say for it. Lucifer was mad, too, but he stayed silent out of begrudging respect for Diavolo. The redhead could feel everyone’s rage, confusion, hurt, and panic, though. He knew. So he apologized, sincerely, earnestly, but the damage was done. And there were only two ways to fix it.

Before that, however, you had to face your demon with the knowledge that- even if unknowingly and involuntary- you caused him to lose his memory.

“What’s with that look?” Mammon thought about it for a moment, “Was I special to ya or somethin?”

You smiled at the question, though it didn’t even come close to reaching your eyes; instead, they were riddled with a loss so deep it seemed bottomless.

“There’s not a single being in all three realms more special to me than you, Mammon.”

Despite only really knowing you for all of two hours- at least, from what he could remember- that statement alone floored him so hard he almost thought he was going to come crashing against the floor. It made him gasp for air and clutch his chest— Mammon wasn’t able to say a word as he watched you walk out of the room, as your time slot for watching him was over. All he could do was hope.

Hope this whole…amnesiac thing you guys were calling it ended soon, because if he was the one person you cared about more than anything? He couldn’t handle not remembering the path it took to get to there.

Mammon needed to remember. Please let him remember.

†

Levi was always nervous underneath your gaze, though he didn’t know why. It might’ve been the clear distraught slapped over your features or maybe it was the familiarity of your face that made his head hurt…whatever the case, he tried his best to avoid you.

“Here, Levi.” your voice was nothing more than a whisper as you sat his dinner down in front of him, “‘s your favorite.”

“It is?”

A silent nod was all he received. This time, he was the one watching you while your frame weaved in and out of the chairs to place down his brothers’ food.

“W-was I…were w-we, uhm…were we close?” Levi wishes he didn’t ask. The tears that filled your water line instantly made his throat go dry, “I-!”

Your smile was heartbreaking. “Yeah. We were.”

Tuning out the curses from the others at the table, Levi clutches at his pants so hard he thinks he hears a rip. He’s so worthless! Why can’t he remember you?! Remember, remember, remember!

†

The fourth born doesn’t try to snap at anyone, much less to the only one that treats him gently, but the anger Satan feels is practically right back at square one and he can’t stand the giant fuzzy blur popping up whenever he tries to think of you.

“Tell me about us.” The blonde overlooks your surprised expression and grabs your hand, “You were something to me, I can feel it, so please…”

You swallowed back your anger- not at Satan, no, at Diavolo and the so-called ‘god’ for letting this happen to your family.

Satan felt it. He felt every drop of your wrath.

“You are everything to me, Satan. Everything and more.” Your grip tightened. “I’m sorry for doing this to you.”

An uncomfortable pressure settled over his chest, “It’s not your fault.” He curled his arms around you and kissed the top of your head out of instinct. “Don’t blame yourself.”

He’ll remember. He’ll make himself remember— he swears.

†

Despite having amnesia, the feeling of being ignored still bothered Asmo. He saw you in the halls countless times, running around while checking in on all his brothers, but you never stopped to even glance at him.

Not once since he woke up like this…it bothered him, though he couldn’t tell why. Asmo guesses it’s the reason he showed up in front of your door at 3 am.

“Asmo? What are you doing awake?” Clearly him being awake right now was sacrilegious or something because you looked as if he was a walking zombie.

“Why are you avoiding me? Did- did I do something to you? Do you not like me?”

The choked sob you let out was startling, but he was quick to reciprocate your crushing hug, “I adore you, Azzy— I love you so fucking much, but you don’t remember loving me back and it hurts.” The gasps you let out made you sound as if you just couldn’t bear to breathe without telling him everything at once.

And Asmo was just horrified at the sight; he didn’t mean to make you cry like this, “‘orry..sorry, I’m sorry!” Ignoring the wetness on his own face, he pulled you impossibly closer, “I’m so sorry, please forgive me.”

He still couldn’t remember, no matter how many times he apologized.

†

Oh, Beel could barely stand the way you and Belphie looked at him— so heartbroken and helpless. He could practically see the bonds between the three of you, but…

“Our eyes look the same…twins?” The small smile that crossed Belphie’s face made Beel beam, “Twins! And what are we?”

You opened your mouth to speak, thinking for a moment before closing it again. A bittersweet smile crawled up your face as you leaned against his brother.

Belphie answered in your stead. “You two loved each other. Very deeply.”

“Love?” Beel looks at you, smiling at him despite the subtle tears streaking your cheeks and blushes, jaw clenching at the same time.

He could see the bonds— he knew they were there. But why couldn’t he remember? He wanted to remember. He needs to remember.

“Please help me remember.”

†

With the red headed demon basically glued to his side the entire time, Belphie didn’t have a hard time figuring out who was who and who had what kind of relationship to the other (there were a lot of dynamics, he discovered, even though they were all brothers).

The only person he couldn’t figure out was you. Beel told him that Belphie loved you more than anything, but what did that mean? Did you love him like that too?

“Do you love me?”

You answered without hesitation, “Yes.” Humming a tune that sounded familiar, he watches you tuck him in like you’d done it a thousand times. “I love you more than the moon loves the stars.”

Belphie blushes and snuggles deeper into his blankets, “Did I love you?” He wishes he remembered. Your face is making his stomach fill with butterflies and he knows it would feel even better if he just remembered.

Like it was a secret, your voice was barely a whisper. “You did. More than the sun loves the earth.”

#obey me x reader #obey me imagine #obey me drabble #lucifer x reader #obey me lucifer #mammon x reader #obey me mammon #leviathan x reader #obey me levi #satan x reader #obey me satan #asmo x reader #obey me asmo #beel x reader #obey me beel #belphie x reader #obey me belphie

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neiptune · 1 year

Text

all eyes on you my magician

c/w: 8.4k wc, the secret history au, incest, recreational drug use (weed), dubcon, vaginal fingering, intoxication, reader is drugged against her will, masturbation, penetration, mentions of blood & murder, dark academia setting, gojo and suguru and shoko and utahime and kento and yu are all snob assholes, I just had so much fun with this and sincerely hope you enjoy!

PART 1

“I’m telling you, I’m gonna be right back!”

“And I’m telling you, you’re gonna get struck by fucking lightning!”

Hina rolls her eyes at you, best roommate she’s ever had and yet always so dreadfully dramatic.

“You’re very welcome to stay here and starve to death but if I don’t eat something within the next five minutes, it’s gonna get ugly”

You pucker your lips, equal parts annoyed and worried as you watch her put on that ridiculous yellow raincoat, always too bright for a campus so dull. She is exactly like that, too: peculiar, bubbly energy at complete odds with the majority of the snotty students filling the grim pile of dark stones that makes your school. You’ve always felt some sort of protective affection for her, one that expands in your chest especially as she’s about to run through campus in the middle of a raging storm, alone.

“Wait up” you grumble and attempt to get up from your messy bed.

“Nuh-uh” Hina keeps you down with a friendly push of small hands on your shoulders, eyes narrowing “you have to finish that essay, I’ll bring you a sandwich or something”

“Damn, I’m working hard for the both of us and all I get is a sandwich?” you playfully throw an extra pencil at her, she effectively dodges it with a light chuckle.

“I love that you know it’s gonna become our essay” by now, the mischievous glint in her eyes elicits nothing but a fond albeit resigned scoff.

And yet you’re still not entirely convinced as you wave goodbye, a don’t get too close to the pond! yelled a moment after the door shuts behind her, exasperated laughter already fading in the distance, echoing across the empty hallway.

With a sigh, you get more comfortable against the soft pillows and sink a little deeper in your bed, the heat of the laptop balanced on your legs enough to keep you from shivering as the rain carries its merciless pitter-patter on the windows, the wind blowing hard enough to slam the thinner branches of the elm, most ancient resident of your dorm, against the glass.

The influence of the classics on english literature is not a hard theme to tackle and you get rapidly absorbed by the topics you have messily categorized in order of succession on your notes: among the main points you care to underline, is the fact that neither is superior to the other. There’s a sharp distinguo you trace between the concepts of originality and novelty, an entire paragraph dedicated to expressing the idea that the creative activity of a writer shouldn’t be adversely affected by the interest they take in classical literature. Right as you delve into the specific examples you’ve chosen to discuss contemporary tendencies and estimate the influece of Latin and Greek upon modern writers, your fingers come to a halt.

Originality, novelty. Unraveling the concepts takes you back to that late afternoon in the quiet library, the ominous curve of an unfamiliar smirk teasing your peripheral, saccharine pitch asking you to settle an argument that was never serious enough to require an outside opinion to begin with.

You’ve met Satoru’s unsettling eyes more than once after that afternoon, they seemed to follow you whenever you happened to walk past his group or enter a room they were in. You hate that you can now anticipate the way he tilts his head, lazily throws one leg on top of the other, ankle resting on knee. You hate that Suguru now talks to you, says hello and good afternoon and wishes you luck on your classes.

You still can’t quite believe Yu, the way he’d casually sat between you and Hina on a Sunday morning when the lukewarm sun served as a break from the usual, gloomy winter days. He was all friendly smiles and relaxed chatter, easily endearing himself to Hina and winning her sympathies. You stayed frozen in utter disbelief until he naturally pulled you into the conversation as if you were one of his oldest friends, sweet giggles outlining the story of how you had brilliantly shared your valuable opinion with them.

None of your attempts at explaining the stupid exchange were taken into consideration, Hina’s big eyes sparkling with each detail Yu unraveled, from Utahime’s comical frown to Suguru’s sincere admiration. He fondly downplayed your skepticism and proceeded to stay for the entire study session, leaving you to mouth a shut up after the other in response to Hina’s exaggerated mimics all the while he immersed himself in one of those thick books they always make a show of carrying around.

It’s disturbing, the feeling of part of that unfortunate afternoon still lingering, sticking to you in a way you don’t know how to escape.

The Anglo-Saxons and their interest in Cato, Orosius, Pliny the Elder. The modern period with its shift of emphasis upon Catullus, Lucretius, Terence and his plays. The entire, separate history of the interest in Ovid, the consequent imitations stemming throughout the fifteenth century only to escalate into close to total neglect during the nineteenth and twentieth. Even as you focus on your essay once more, the unnerving feeling persists in your gut.

You conclude the first draft of the paper with some statement about how classical lore, mythology and style hover above the most representative writers of the elizabethan literature, the most original of all periods of english literature in its entirety.

A light grumble of your stomach demands you glance at the time and you sigh upon noticing it’s already been more than an hour. What the hell is she even doing? The vegan options suck, she may as well eat grass in the park. Unless they’re serving those falafel hummus salad wraps with spicy potato and feta, now that’s something you’d walk in a storm for.

An entire moment is spent considering putting a coat on and marching all the way to the dining hall, muddy campus and everything, but then a whooshing sound is followed by a creaking in your roof and the best you can do is send a mildly annoyed text.

She texts back ten minutes later, the message short and oddly enough void of her usual emojis, informing that the she’s run into her friend Yuki and so she’s most probably going to be late. Well, that’s ideal. As much as you love having the room all to yourself, you really are hungry and the only edible thing within a ten foot radius is a bag of tortilla chips.

The second you reach over to your laptop with the intention of continuing the show you had started watching together (serves her right for leaving you to starve to death) the room turns purple for a second and before the loud crack of the thunder can even hit, the already dim light of the lamp flickers, unsteady.

“Don’t you dare!” you glare at it as if it was a person. It certainly does seem to listen.

Gotta love old buildings with even older electric utility infrastructures.

You send another text for good measure, the possibility of suddenly finding yourself in the dark, alone, enough to induce a reasonable amount of anxiety.

hurry tf up, hina

Your screen lights up a second later, eerily quick. Again, odd. Doesn’t she always try to tuck her phone away while eating?

sorry baby, it’s raining too much

I think we’re trapped here for the next hour lol

You frown. Baby?

Something doesn’t sit quite right with the way she’s replying, maybe she’s given her phone to Yuki after grumbling about how you keep interrupting her meal. Still, you take your chances and send another text.

you okay?

Seen, instantly. Yet she doesn’t type back. Ugh, definitely Yuki taking over: she’s always been the number one supporter of the stupid no phones at the table rule, her glare over waffles and tea as you dared to check your social media over breakfast still engraved in your mind.

As you grumpily stare at the screen for a few more seconds, several things happen at the same time: the light coming from the lamp above your head flickers again, a branch slams against the window and your heart drops to your stomach at the three short but certainy energetic knocks on the door.

The entire evening has been so weirdly quiet, you honestly wouldn’t have guessed somebody else was in the building. Is there someone at the door or did your mind play a trick on you? It must’ve been the rumble of the thunder bouncing on the walls, the loud whistle of the wind. But then they knock again, with the same exact rhythm, and for some silly reason goosebumps blossom on your forearms because you simply know that, even as you tentatively call her name, it’s not Hina.

Shoko peeks inside, the white stick of what you can only guess is a lollipop hanging from her lips. It’s the first time you see her alone, without her friends or her sister. It’s also the first time she speaks to you and it’s surprising, really, how calm and gentle her pitch is.

“Hey, are you alone?” her eyes lazily scan the room, the question sounding every bit as unnecessary as one could guess.

“Yeah” you wonder why you reply in the most natural way, not a second spent wondering why the hell she’s there and how she knows which one’s your room.

“I really don’t like storms” she tilts her head to the side a little, gaze blankly darting to the window and then intently locked to yours “you should join us”

Taken aback, you open your mouth and close it a number of times.

“Pardon?”

Shoko waltzes into the room, graceful as ever in her school uniform. As opposed to you, she’s wearing dark tights and your stare lingers on her thin legs a moment too long before travelling to her features again.

“They’re having another one of their arguments, it gets so boring. You’re lonely too, please join us”

There are so many questions running after each other in your brain, you’re not even sure which one to prioritize. Why would she ever think you’d…?

“No, thank you” it may have taken a minute but you finally snap out of it (whatever it is) and clear your throat, uncomfortable.

Shoko bites back a smile, enhanced. She can smell the uncertainty, the uneasiness. And can barely wait for when it will turn into panic. Doesn’t it always?

“You really must dislike us” she locks her hands behind her back and casually shifts her weight from one foot to the other “have we ever given you a reason to? I know Satoru can be a jerk but he’s harmless, really”

She sees the anxiety that flashes over your features and wonders what it would feel like to sink her teeth into it. It’s infuriating, how Suguru’s always right. She really was the best one to be sent to get you: not Kento, not anyone else.

“I don’t— it’s not that” you stutter adorably “we don’t really know each other, it’d be weird to…”

“It wouldn’t. We’re all students at the same school, aren’t we?” she offers a sweet smile and extends a hand “come. I won’t let them bother you, pinky promise”

You watch her shift the position of the lollipop in her mouth with a gentle sweep of the tongue, securing it inside her other cheek.

Sure, you could insist on staying in your room, waiting for your friend: she’d probably take the hint and leave. But this is weird. Shoko showing up unannounced, with no reasonable motive, insisting you take part in… what, exactly? One of the bizarre evening gatherings everyone keeps gossiping about?

You don’t care if they realize you don’t like them. Ever the keen observants, they probably already know anyway. But you’ll be damned if you allow some elitist assholes to think you’re intimidated, or worse, scared of their bullshit haughtiness. You talked to them once, you owned it, you can do it again and walk away the second things get too weird. Or Hina actually fucking decides to come back.

Shoko smiles softly when you rise from your bed and take her hand. She thinks boldness suits you.

You quickly type another text to your roommate, certain she’ll sense the annoyed tone at last and hopeful she’ll decide to get you out of the absurd situation.

I need you to come back, preferably now

it’s just rain get back here and take a shower or something

also bring be the goddamn sandwich, I’m starving

Seen. Instantly, right as you sent them. What the hell, is she deliberately ignoring you? Did Yuki forget to lock the stupid phone before putting it away?

since you’re clearly reading these, I’ll have you know I’m currently being kidnapped by the classics gang

Seen.

come look for me asap

Seen.

“Fuck’s sake” you grumble under your breath and Shoko turns to look at you from over her shoulder, gaze soft in the dim light of the hallway. For a fleeting second, you think that purple eyeshadow would look horrible on anyone else but she kinda pulls it off.

“Sorry, my friend hasn’t been replying to my texts” you clear your throat once more.

“I��m sure she will, eventually” she utters, tone flat. Lightning flashes violet on her chestnut hair and your stomach tightens a little, clammy palm nothing but a forlorn hope it will feel nasty enough for her to let go. Shoko tightens her grip on your hand, thumb lazily grazing over the top of it and in between your knuckles.

“How come you don’t like storms?” maybe if you keep talking, the bullshit situation will feel more normal. Maybe the walk in the stupid hallway won’t be as infinite.

Shoko giggles, the mere thought of how your features would morph into a mask of pure horror has warmth pooling between her thighs. God, why do the guys always get to have all the fun?

Storms make it difficult to hear them scream.

“Never been a big fan” her pitch is suddenly lighter, almost jolly “they make everything look so gloomy, don’t you think?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I do” you don’t intend for it to be a jab but her chuckle makes heat crawl from the base to your throat up to the roots of your hair anyway.

Of course their common room is the most magnificent of the building, somber and exclusive and, naturally, conveniently connected to their private rooms. The sanguine hues coming from the stone fireplace dance across the dark, wooden furniture and make the carvings of the coffee table grow in depth. There are two upholstered sofas and two armchairs surrounding it as velvet constellations painted in rich burgundy, the oil lamps serving as a convenient counteragent for musty electric utility infrastructures.

There’s a bookcase by the door, built in what looks like African blackwood. It’s filled with vintage hardbacks, leatherbound volumes and what you wouldn’t have a hard time imagining are expensive first editions. Some of them are turned around, piled up and showcasing the paper side, alternated with silver candleholders and white Carrara marble bust sculptures. You recognize Marcus Aurelius and a representation of Canova’s Venus and Adonis.

A peculiar, earthy scent wafts through the stale air of the sweltering room: notes of lemongrass, pine and wood.

“Ah, we have a guest” Suguru’s line sounds rehearsed, void of actual surprise, and you don’t like it one bit.

He’s sitting on the sofa, an empty spot left between him and Satoru, whose grotesque cerulean gaze bores into yours as he brings a grape cluster to his mouth. The coffee table is covered in trays and plates of food: an abundance of fruit, prosciutto wrapped figs, smoked oysters accompanied with champagne beurre blanc, salted chocolate and caramel tarts, a basket filled with an assortment of breads. What looks like an exceptionally expensive replica of a traditional lagynos, the hellenistic wine jug favored by the ancient Greeks, dominates the center of the table and elegant wine goblets in sterling silver accentuate the unusual choice of flowers embellishing the surface: lycoris radiata, or red spider lilies.

“We do” Shoko lets go of your hand at last and you instinctively flex your fingers. Inexplicably, she seems to notice because she turns to look at you with an unreadable expression, hand rising to secure part of your hair behind your ear “I promised you’d behave” the little wink is not intimate at all, like a secret whispered to your ear only for everyone else to hear.

“Don’t we always?” Kento’s bored tone draws your attention and you’re finally able to tear your eyes away from the odd energy tying your gaze to the magnetic figures perched on the sofa.

Nanami and Yu are sitting on the opposite divan, the latter waving at you with a sweet smile that has his eyes turn into little half-moons that swallow his pupils. Pale, lithe fingers are gracefully holding a joint that is held to his friend’s lips.

“Want some?” Shoko’s syrupy voice startles you, the question almost whispered against the shell of your ear as she passes you by to take the seat her sister’s offering.

How are they allowed to do this in the first place? Sure, they’re sickeningly favored but smoking weed in a dorm? Not even attempting to keep the scent from seeping out into the hallway? What would it take for them to get some semblance of an actual reprimand, a corpse hid in a closet?

“No, thanks” you attempt to take the last remaining empty armchair but Suguru pats the spot between him and his best friend, cracking a soft smile and tossing a casual comment about how famished you must be.

“No reasonable person would venture outside in this weather and it’s way past dinner time” he indicates the plethora of options scattered on the large coffee table with the gentle wave of a hand “please, sit with us. I’d like to benefit from your views once more”

Against your better judgement, Utahime’s skeptical scoff prompts you to accept the invitation. Satoru scoots away ever so slightly, perhaps to give you enough room to feel comfortable. And yet the comfort doesn’t come, you can’t relax your shoulders as you sink into the soft velvet. For a second, you even wonder if it’s a good idea to eat anything they’re offering.

“Thank you” you cautiously accept a fig because at this point your stomach is one step away from absorbing itself “uh— Ieiri mentioned you had another discussion going on?”

Her crystalline laugh pierces the air and you’re not surprised to find Utahime sitting on her lap, back flush against her older sister’s chest, glaring at you like a guard dog.

“Please, just call me Shoko” she peers at you from behind Utahime’s shoulder. Her arms easily envelop her sister’s smaller frame, hands conveniently placed on her lap as thin fingers work to pack dark weed into the thin rolling paper.

Shoko. You’re tempeted to articulate it right away, to taste the way it’d feel on your tongue.

“We are” Suguru’s gaze lingers a moment too long on your mouth, the way it sinks into the red, purplish flesh of the fruit “we were analyzing Ovid’s metamorphoses and Kento was really interested in hearing your thoughts”

You search for his gaze but he’s thrown his head back, legs parted in what’s perhaps the most relaxed pose you’ve ever seen him indulge in. Yu has propped himself up on one elbow against the backrest of the sofa, cheek squished by his fist as pink lips close around what’s left of the joint.

“Our professor wants us to point out why their repetitiveness is unimportant” he smiles, words slightly dragged.

“I mean, myths are not sacred stories and mutability is not sacrilege” the sweet taste of the fig melts in the back of your throat right as Satoru’s eyes travel back to you once more, it takes everything in your not to turn your head and challenge his stare “they’re still relevant because there’s still vibrancy to them. Stories were meant to be mutable, Ovid was never supposed to preserve canonical versions that had already been retelled thousands of times”

Geto hums, the corner of his lips already curving upwards. Such a pretty thing, with a pretty mind too.

“What did you like the most about them?” the question vibrates with genuine interest and you pick another fig as you dwell over it.

The stories, the narrative techniques, all the varied tones, make the metamorphoses one of your favorite Latin poems. You love that they’re a celebration of nature and, at the same time, a raw representation of the fundamental uncertainty of all things human. Love is kept as a recurring theme and gods are only portrayed as allegories for forces and passions that guide the human decision making process.

“I think his mocking attitude is fun” you attempt a smile “it’s just… such a hilarious, epic, tragic opus. Whatever Ovid writes keeps its sheer beauty even in the darkest of lines and, god, does he have some of them”

Satoru huffs a small laugh out of his nose and this time you do look at him. He’s gorgeous, could easily become the Narcissus of any Echo, the nymph that in the myth falls desperately in love with him only to be rejected, scorned and humiliated.

Oh marvellous boy, I loved you in vain, farewell.

Would his body fade, his bones turn to stone? Would those eyes look at something other than his own divine reflection?

“Tongues being wrenched out, humans barking out their sorrows, women turned into mute creatures by envious gods. Yet you see beauty in them” he’s not mocking you, it’s the most serious you’ve ever heard him sound. The challenge he offers is void of sarcasm or skepticism, it sounds more like… a kind observation.

“As humans, we’re imperfect” although this may not exactly apply to you “we’re blinded by lust, passion, greed, jealousy. Just as the tide goes out only to go in again, we too drift and change in shape and are left witnessing each other’s ever shifting existence. Don’t you think he portrays the concept wonderfully?”

You’re not sure why you’re hoping for a decent exchange of views. Maybe you want to take a peek into their world, a real one, because there must be something other than the unnecessary travesty they carry around, something behind all that self-righteous bullshit. You want to know who they are, what they actually think, if something really does make them special. You don’t care about impressing them, you just want to understand.

But then Satoru’s lips curl into a smug smirk you’re all too familiar with, broad and spine-tingling. His pupils are dilated, swimming in the depths of his impossibly blue eyes as the tip of his tongue traces his upper lip in a pink flash.

“Nec perit in toto quicquam, mihi credite, mundo, sed variat faciemque novat” he articulates the words slowly, savoring each syllable and basking in the way your shoulders stiffen once more.

“What we call birth is but an incipient change from a prior state” Suguru chimes in delicately and when you turn to him you get the impression that he’s sitting closer than he was “while death is but cessation of a former state” he’s offering you a cup, filled with wine to the brim.

“Ah, no, thank you” you attempt a smile. Foxy eyes make it impossible to discern the size of his pupils but something tells you, even when high, he’d be able to remain perfectly lucid.

“I insist” he tilts his head to the side a little “our professor gave us the recipe, it’s our very own ambrosia”

You’re hesitant when you reach for the cup, the one he’s been clearly drinking from. But then again, maybe some liquid courage wouldn’t hurt while facing what’s your strangest evening to date.

The first sip burns in your throat and explodes in your chest, flush rising from your neck to your cheeks. It’s pleasant, most probably sweetened with honey and infused with spices you can’t quite pinpoint.

“Good girl” Satoru’s chuckle is close but somehow muffled. You take another good sip from the cup under Suguru’s expectant gaze and give it back, he thanks you with a smile.

It doesn’t take but a couple minutes spent discussing your favorite myths from the metamorphoses, Kento and Utahime having a lazy debate over Pyramus and Thisbe, for everything to start to feel kinda blurred around the edges, your head dizzy as if you’ve walked into some sort of misty haze. You can see Shoko’s mouth move and guess the sound of her laugh when she looks at you but receives no response, you can hear Suguru’s voice asking if you feel okay, but you’re floating underwater and your body suddenly feels so unbearably hot.

“I’m fine” you murmur and someone from across the room laughs. Is it Yu?

“You’re more than fine” Satoru’s hand ghosts over your bare knee for a moment, one digit starting to lazily trace the skin all the way up to the hem of your skirt “look at you. Our very own Diana” your eyelids feel heavy when you look at him, smile glistening even in the dim light of the room as thunder rumbles in the distance.

“So furious that we’ve seen her, she’d turn us all into deers and watch us getting mauled by a band of hounds if she could” his eyebrows raise to mimick your surprised expression when you open your mouth to protest.

“Deprendi miserum est” Shoko's playful pitch makes someone, perhaps Suguru, laugh condescendingly.

“You look nothing like Actaeon” is all you manage to let out and he laughs sweetly, hand reaching out to gently cradle your cheek, thumb tenderly grazing the portion of skin underneath your eye.

“What do I look like?”

What, not who.

Something in a corner far away of your mind is ringing as his thumb travels down to skim over your bottom lip, your mouth parts on its own accord and he gently pushes the digit between your lips.

You suck on it and it feels like the most natural thing on earth: it’s flattering that a being so ethereal would grant you such attentiveness, it’s only fair you return his fondness with equal generosity. He could ask for anything and you’d do everything in your power to satisfy him. Isn’t that why you’re here for?

“Tell me” Satoru’s pitch sounds accomodating but Suguru can barely contain a scoff at the actual impatience simmering beneath the surface.

His thumb wetly pops out of your mouth and you attempt to blink away part of your stupor, mind dangerously decelerated as you struggle to remember the answer you should be chasing.

But then he tilts his head to the side and offers another smile, a bolt of lightning exploding behind the tall window on the other side of the room. It might’ve as well struck you because you feel on fire, quite literally set ablaze right as another clap of thunder dissipates part of the fog flooding your head.

“A god” you murmur, equal parts fascinated and daunted beneath that stare.

He hums, pupils somehow blown wider in darkened celestial depths as he gently reaches over to guide you toward him. You’re clumsy as you attempt to carefully balance yourself atop his lap, head spinning even if big yet gentle hands patiently support your graceless movements.

Except he’s not being accomodating, he’s leading. You’re moving pliably, responding to the simplest of inputs with such submissiveness Gojo’s practically stiff in his pants already.

Lips are gentle and surprisingly soft as they first press to the column of your throat, they trace your skin while his broad hands keep you in place, fingers not even having to sink into the fat of your thighs to make sure you don’t move. His kisses are wet by the time he mouths his way up to and along your jaw, stopping mere inches away from your lips, reveling in the way your chest rises erratically underneath the pressure of your heavy breathing. Darker petals are already blossoming on your throat, skin still stinging in the spots he has sucked, bitten and then licked better.

“So worship me” he coos, a sudden squeeze of your hips prompting you to inch forward.

Your kiss is tentative, still asking for a permission you’re not sure you’ve been granted, obvlivious to the fact that you never needed one. You feel rough fingers cradling the back of your head to tilt your face and demand you kiss him deeper: still slow and attentive but more courageous, you comply and the sweet taste of wine melts on both your tongues, his rendered slightly bitter from the weed.

It’s addictive and exhilarating and when you pull back he doesn’t give you the chance to catch your breath because he chases you, an annoyed “not yet” breathed against your mouth, lidded eyes falling on the string of spit connecting your lips right before kissing you again. One of his hands slips underneath the hem of your skirt and strokes the soft skin of your thigh with intent, up and down, certainly distracting but not enough to convince you to break away from a kiss turned greedy, insatiable. Your hands travel from the back of his neck to his broad shoulders, pressing lightly against them to signal the lack of oxygen making you even more dizzy. Gojo would smirk if his tongue wasn’t buried so deep down your throat, the hand still holding your hip guiding your body to grind against his own while you let out soft mewls he keeps swallowing, a satisfied groan leaving his chest at last when you comply so easily. So obediently.

He allows you to draw back but not before pinching your bottom lip between his teeth, the sting so painful it makes you whine.

“So pretty” he says breathlessly, then inches forward once more and lets his tongue carefully trace your swollen lip to collect the blood “almost makin’ me want to keep you”

“Don’t be… ridiculous—” Utahime’s voice comes out faint from behind you, soon breaking into a muffled moan. But when you attempt to turn around, Gojo harshly grabs you by the jaw and painfully sinks his fingers into your cheeks.

“Eyes on me” the command is stern, makes a shiver run down your spine. The hand underneath your skirt lightly pinches your inner thigh, it hurts but not in the way you’d expect and you find yourself rolling your hips once more, in a silly attempt to get closer to that warmth. His smile is clement as the tips of his fingers gently run over the fabric of your cotton panties, it only grows in size and brightness when he finds the material already damp.

“Oh, you poor thing” he purrs right as he presses long fingers a little harder against your cunt, the softest of gasps promptly silenced by his lips grazing yours and then gently murmuring “see? Isn’t this nice? Did you really need to act all high and mighty after all?”

You tremble pathetically while he keeps rubbing you back and forth, slowly but applying just enough pressure for your heart to pick up its pace and your stomach to contort in all too familiar knots.

“Please…” you breathe out. It takes everything in you not to reach in between your own legs and grab his wrist to get some relief.

“Please what, pretty thing?” his thumb casually swipes at your clit and this time he lets you whimper for everyone to hear, the way you’re heaving and the feeling of your nails sinking into his shoulders going straight to his painfully hard cock.

“He can’t help you if you don’t tell him what you need” you can hardly recognize Kento’s voice in your dazed state, it still carries its usual, unfazed pitch but there’s something new vibrating to it. Something Yu’s low chuckle and the groan that follows seem to confirm.

“Touch me” you sink your teeth into your bottom lip at the feeling of fresh arousal soaking your underwear under the pressure of his fingers, the lazy rubs his thumb teases your bud with “fuck, Gojo, just—” you damn near let out a sob when the warmth of his hand is abruptly taken from you, hole pathetically fluttering around nothing at all. Hips buck in protest and he chuckles at your impatience, savoring every last drop of your desperation. It’s his favorite part.

“Ask nicely” the tip of his nose grazes your cheek before he lays a soft kiss on it “and say my name right”

“Satoru” you whine, every single nerve ending of your body catching fire at the anticipation wrecking you from the inside “please, please, just touch me”

There’s no time and you don’t currently have the mental capacity to take a second, acknowledge how that name feels when spelled out loud for the first time. You can’t discern the taste between your teeth because your underwear is moved out of the way, safely pushed to the side and your mind goes blank when he finally touches your bare, feverish skin. Satoru doesn’t cast his eyes away from you as his lithe fingers rub you back and forth some more, collect part of the slick that trickles out of you like a syrup so sweet. They tease the opening of your cunt right before a finger carefully dips inside: he’s barely holding back a groan when you instantly clamp down around it, wet and tight and so warm.

He thrusts slowly, pushing up into you with exasperating languidness, so much that you have to roll your hips with a strangled moan to keep the fire in your gut ignited.

“Stop being an asshole” Suguru’s voice is so close and yet seems to reach your ears from far away.

“Yeah, Toru, hurry up” you barely register Shoko’s mocking words, the light giggle that follows “let’s see who can make them come first”

Gojo smirks, one hand rubbing reassuring circles into your hip as he adds another finger and starts moving in and out faster, digits skillfully curled and thumb pressing to your clit once more.

“That’s not very fair, Shoko. I don’t know this one as well as you know your sister” and yet you cry out once more, legs tightening around his hips the deeper he pushes his fingers in. The rhythm is relentless, the squelching sounds filling the room obscene. You’re too lightheaded to realize they’re not coming just from you.

“Quid est rei? Let me hear you, pretty” he presses another kiss to your jaw and angles his wrist, curled fingers roughly dragging in and out as they continuously stretch you open and batter a specific spot over and over again, until you can’t hold back a vocal, desperate moan. You feel so full and yet impatient for more, for that boiling wire in your stomach to finally snap.

He gazes at her lips, and knows that gazing is not enough. He marvels at her fingers, her hands, her wrists, her arms. And what he does not see he thinks is better.

Satoru starts trailing kisses over the skin of your throat, he seems to have already memorized where to suck to make your pulse tap faster against his mouth. You’re so human, so fragile, so desperate for him. Would it be so wrong to keep you? You wouldn’t look nearly as pretty as the last one anyway, not covered in all that blood and with that cute little mouth frozen in a forever scream. A little inebriation is all it takes to instill some sense of devotion into that charming, opinionated brain of yours. Just a few sips of a special nectar to have you making a mess on his crooked fingers, moan after moan springing from your shameless throat as sticky arousal dribbles down his fingers and between his knuckles.

“What d’you say you help me out, angel?” he’s leaking in his own underwear by the time his teeth sink into the tender skin of your neck and his movements nearly come to a halt, making you whine in protest. Satoru’s smile is feral when it meets your scowl. “C’mon, don’t you want to please me?” his thumb presses on your clit and gives it a few rough rubs, the muscles of your thighs twitching in response.

“Yes, yes” you clumsily reach for his crotch, give it a few messy strokes before he groans right into your mouth and grips your wrist. He presses your hand against himself for a moment, hips rubbing against your palm, clarity of his mind threatening to abandon him when you grind down harshly, in desperate search of some friction, and he feels the wetness of your cunt against the back of his hand.

“Let me please you, I’ll do anything” you whine when he forcefully moves your hand away, grip around your wrist bruising as his other hand roughly lifts your skirt over your thighs. Ah, there you are. Satoru unconsciounsly licks his lips at the sight of your swollen clit, slick folds glistening with fresh arousal he’s dying to taste.

But now Suguru can see you too and he knows just how impatient he gets. Fuck.

“Anything?” it’s meant to be a tease but Satoru is just really trying to hold it together, to gain back some sort of lucidity. You’re still languidly grinding against him, making a visible mess of his light brown pants. It takes every ounce of self restraint left in him to stop your movements and start rubbing at your dewy skin again, spreading your lower lips and barely dipping two fingers inside your fluttering hole.

“God— yes, Satoru. Anything, anything” your despair is addicting and he chuckles darkly at your franctic nods, presses his forehead to your cheek as his gaze sets on the gorgeous, glimmering sight underneath him.

“Take what you need, then” Satoru angles his wrist but keeps still, patient “fuck yourself on my fingers and maybe I’ll fill that pretty little pussy up”

He hates that it’s a lie, despises the idea of giving up his chance to effectively ruin you. He’s a man of his word, when the consequences of not abiding by the agreements are too troublesome anyway.

But is he really above giving in to temptation? You called him a god, you’re here to worship him. He’s a perfect being, he’s the one calling the goddamn shots. And so this has to be different, special, a moment belonging only to the two of you. Even as Shoko’s fingers relentlessly stretch her sister open, even as Kento’s dark gaze is fixated on him and Yu is lazily stroking his cock, wrist turning skillfully in comforting circles. Even with Suguru’s eyes not missing a single movement or twitch of lips. Satoru can practically discern the shadow of a knowing smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth, it infuriates him.

This moment has to be his. No one else’s.

And so, as you restlessly roll your hips, he starts moving in and out once more, precise and fast. It’s the deepest he’s ever pushed his fingers inside you and the electricity crackling below your stomach leaves space to nothing more than a wordless cry out from lips frozen in muted pleasure.

“Please, please, please” you sob and reach to rub at your clit, eyes rolling back when his thumb presses harshly against your fingers and works the bud in sync with you.

“Come, pretty girl” the velvet of his voice sends a jolt of pleasure between your thighs, lips pressed to the shell of your ear as his other hand closes around the base of your throat “say my name and cream on my fucking fingers”

Devote yourself to me. Worship me, worship me, worship me.

You reach in between your legs and grab his wrist with feverish desperation, pushing down to bring him closer and fuck yourself on his hand as deep as you can, until he abuses that specific spot inside you over and over and over.

“Satoru” you cry out “close, so close—”

“I know, angel” he half-chuckles because of course he can feel that “let go for me”

You’re sobbing out his name, juices from your soaked cunt drenching both your hands as you rock back and forth, sounds you’re well past feeling embarrassed about drown out the noise of the storm. He doesn’t stop when your jaw goes slack and one of the strongest heats you have ever experienced explodes in your core. Satoru keeps moving and moving and moving even as your hips still and your muscles seize up, raw touch turning so sensitive your nails dig into the flesh of his wrist.

The heavenly sound of your whines still echo in his dazed mind when he slows his movements and ultimately stops, gaze drinking in the bliss embedded in your features before he tilts his chin forward to press a sweet, chaste kiss to your lips.

“Did so well for me” you smile at the praise, flinching just a little when he slides his soaked fingers out of your warmth and brings them to his mouth. Just a taste, he thinks he should get to have just a taste.

He can only indulge in it for a moment before a hand from beside him uncerimoniously closes around his wrist. Suguru brings the long digits to his mouth and lets his tongue shamelessly swirl around their length as he suckles on them, eyes shutting for a moment at how unexpectedly sweet you taste.

“I still won” this time you don’t attempt to turn around, you don’t care about whatever Shoko is talking about. Not when his eyes see nothing but you, free hand gently stroking your thigh, lips murmuring honeyed praises. You want him and you’re blinded by the wild gratification that comes with him wanting you.

I am dragged along by a strange new force. Desire and reason are pulling in different directions. I see the right way and approve it, but follow the wrong.

Satoru gently takes the hand still nestled between your legs with a light chuckle, genuine amusement softening his perfect features.

“Taste yourself” he guides your drenched fingers to your mouth but not before pressing a kiss to your knuckles “so you don’t forget what I do to you”

You’re still throbbing pathetically as you comply and suck on your own fingers, lick them clean under his attentive gaze, the hardness you’re sitting on causing new warmth to pool into your core.

You’re not hesitant when you kiss him again, desperate to have him taste your essence with every swipe of your tongue. The guttural groan that arises from his throat makes you smile, triumphant. You kiss him, lazy and messy and deep, timidly rock your hips in hopes of further pleasing him. All that you are, all that you’ll ever be, belongs to him now.

“I think that’s enough. Don’t you, Satoru?”

And just like that, he pulls away, harshly stills your movements with a firm grip of his hands. He doesn’t look at you, head falling to rest against your shoulder as he catches his breath.

Looking to your right causes a new wave of dizziness.

Geto is out of focus but smiling kindly at you, eyes that are so different from Satoru's narrowed and curved into little crescents. They bring a different kind of darkness and yet you feel drawn to him all the same, eager to abide by any request. It just feels so good, to be obedient. Whatever you kept worrying about? They mean well, they want to take care of you. It’s the safest you’ve ever felt.

“C’mere” Suguru is sitting close enough to support your poorly coordinated movements as you attempt to detangle yourself from Gojo, who presses a final kiss to your forehead before retracting without complaint.

“Sweet girl” Geto welcomes you onto his lap with the sweetest touch, reassuring hands pushing back some of the hair sticking to your flushed face “sweet, smart girl. How lucky are we that you decided to join us” he coos.

Captivated by his glittering onyx gaze, you give yourself to him just as easily, mind swimming and barely able to register the harsh sound of the rain against the windows. You lean towards him, although there’s really no need because he ever so gently cups your chin to bring you close anyway.

“You’ll do as I say” he whispers, the firmness of his hold preventing you to further lean over “won’t you, sweet thing?” you can’t suppress a gasp when his knuckle forcefully comes against your still sensitive cunt and presses hard against it.

“I—” breath catches in your throat when he suddenly pushes two curled fingers inside just once, in and out, movement harsh and painfully fast.

“Look at me” Suguru tightens his hold on your chin as a warning, tilts his head to the side when your clouded gaze meets his hungry one “you’ll let me split you open on my cock for everyone to see, you’ll take what I give you until you’re sore and raw and then you’ll beg for more”

“Yes” you breathe out and he chuckles at the feeling of your legs clenching around him.

“Yes what, sweetheart?” delicate fingers move over your clit in slow circles, absolutely unbothered by the way you start squirming, unable to control the way your body reacts to a touch so controlled and yet overwhelming.

“Yes, I will— God, I'll let you—”

“I’m a patient man, darling”

You honestly want to cry at the sensation of his fingers barely sinking into your hole, the tips teasing your entrance over and over again as his thumb never loses its rythm over your sore bundle of nerves.

“I'll let you split me open!” you cry out “I’ll let you do anything!”

“You will” his fingers curl and the heat of arousal explodes inside you once more. He finally dips his digits all the way in, up to his knuckles, right as he kisses you. It’s rough and messy, teeth clashing and tongue eagerly licking into your mouth, the tip of his cock leaking copiously at every strangled moan you let out, at every subtle, pitiful roll of your hips against his hand.

Suguru breaks away first and harshly pulls his fingers out but you know better than to complain, too eager for what’s to come.

“Touch yourself” it takes a few seconds to understand that he’s not talking to you, although his gaze has not left your eyes a single moment.

Satoru’s relieved groan seems so far and yet close, embedded in fresh memories that make your heart beat with the frenzy of a caged rabbit. You don’t dare look in his direction.

“Perhaps we really could keep you, mhm?” Suguru kisses your forehead, eyelids, the tip of your nose and then dips his head to trace your jaw, angles your head to have better access to the already marked skin of your throat. He almost clicks his tongue in annoyance: what a mess, he would’ve made a much more gracious job.

“Not even scared enough to beg yet” Suguru moves his hand down, you catch the faint glisten of the wetness covering lithe fingers as he reaches below the waistband of his pants “and you still managed to arouse him. Isn’t that a first, Satoru?”

Mesmerized by the sight of his cock, you fail to register whatever reply comes from Gojo. Suguru’s fingers easily circle the impressive girth of a length so pretty, curved and with a flared, heavily leaking tip. Is every part of them this beautiful? Will you have the chance to find out more, to learn the edges of every single one of their bodies? Will they all claim you, keep you?

Geto gives himself a few strokes, wrist turning elegantly as his lips welcome a smile so soft.

“Would you want to stay, sweet girl?” his free hand travels down to your hip and gives it two light taps. You barely gather some strength and use the leverage of his shoulders to push yourself up just enough for his cock to find your entrance and teasingly move against it a few times. He barely pushes you open and stays like that, the sound of your ragged, labored breaths music to his ears.

“Yes” you rasp “yes, please let me stay”

“Over my dead body” Utahime’s bitter reproach doesn’t faze you, not as Suguru pushes in some more, your muscles tensing as drools collects in the corners of your parted lips.

“Don’t bother, we have enough of those already” Yu’s low chuckle reaches your ears a moment too late.

Suguru grabs your hips and sits you down on him harshly, in a single, brutal movement that has your mind going static and your entire body burning at the sudden stretch. You’re stuffed so full and he’s so deep, almost like he’s pressing against the inside of your stomach.

His controlled facade alters for a moment, the sensation of your tight walls sucking him in so superbly clouding his senses and better judgement.

“Fuck” you whimper, nails digging into the soft fabric of his perfectly ironed white shirt “Suguru” his name on your lips, the pleasure distorting your fucked out features make his cock twitch inside your pretty pussy. Just perfect, you were made to take him, for him to painfully carve its way inside you.

Dark shadows swim in his intense stare while you struggle to breathe properly as he slowly grinds you against him. Is this a reward or a punishment? You can’t tell anymore.

“Look at how gorgeous you are with my cock spreading you apart” he presses his lips to your forehead once more, it feels like the blessing of a deity.

“Keep me” you whisper, delirious, desperate for him to move or at least allow you to roll your hips some more “I’ll be good, I promise I’ll be so good”

Someone reaches over from behind you to gently comb some hair back from your forehead, now covered in a sheen of sweat. A melodic, familiar chuckle inadvertently sends a shudder down your spine even in your hazed state.

“Let her stay, Suguru” Hina lays a kiss on the top of your head as her chest presses flush against your back “we’ll help you take care of her”

index vocabolorum:

Nec perit in toto quicquam, mihi credite, mundo, sed variat faciemque novat - there’s nothing in the entire universe that perishes, believe me; rather it renews and varies its substance

Deprendi miserum est - it is wretched to be found out

Quid est rei? - what is the matter?

#gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo x you #gojo satoru x you #geto smut #geto x reader #geto x you #satoru x reader #suguru x reader #jjk x reader

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dark-fics-4-you · 1 year

Text

Ex-Friends with Benefits

After Rafe crosses a major boundary, you realize that it’s time to end this fling with your friend.

dark!Rafe Cameron x friend!Reader

Warnings: dubcon, smut, unprotected sex, unwanted creampie, choking, manipulation, unwanted touching, drugs, alcohol

Note: Y/N/N = your nickname. Also this will have at least a second chapter, maybe two more.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was times like these that you felt incredibly grateful for the fingers that were wrapped around your neck, muffling the moan at the back of your throat.

Your hips bucked in time with the movement of Rafe’s other hand as he plunged two fingers into you at an unbearably slow pace.

You shifted in the backseat of his truck, conscious of the party still raging just a walk up the driveway away. The dark tinted windows of Rafe’s backseat hid you well, but you still got nervous about being caught fooling around with one of your best friends. Especially at a party that your entire friend group was at.

You let out a choked mewl when he teasingly drew his thumb across your clit, purposefully never giving you enough pressure and finding just the right spot only to quickly move his thumb as soon as he could tell you were getting close.

“Raaafe,” you panted, chest heaving as you could feel your orgasm building inside you, only to have it stolen again when he stopped his movements, meeting your eyes with a smirk playing on his lips.

“Yeah, Y/N/N? You want me to stop?” The blond teased as you whined while rolling your hips, his fingers staying still inside you.

“No! N-not fair,” you whimpered, pleading eyes meeting his.

Rafe chuckled, leaning in close enough that his lips were nearly brushing yours before whispering in a teasing tone, “what’s in it for me? Hm?”

You opened your mouth to reply, only to let out a moan when his fingers began to slowly curl inside of you again, your mind instantly clouded by pleasure.

“You’ve got to use your words sweetheart. Otherwise how am I supposed to know what you want?” Rafe pressed his thumb against your clit, this time circling the sensitive bud, expertly bringing you closer to the edge.

“I- I- please- ah-” you babbled, each time he pushed his fingers into you making you lose your train of thought.

An amused smile grew on Rafe’s face as he watched you, reveling in your gasps and the way your eyes rolled back in your head when he curled his digits inside you.

His lips found yours again, messy and forceful, swallowing your moans. You could taste the alcohol on his lips and you were reminded of how much you had had to drink already as well. When he pulled away, he stayed close to you, forehead pressed against yours.

“I think I know something you could do for me, Y/N.” There was a devilish edge to his voice that you didn’t like.

“w-what?” You questioned hesitantly. It was almost never a good thing when Rafe requested things.

“Well… Don’t be mad but… I forgot to bring a condom.”

“Rafe-!”

“Listen, Y/N/N!” He cut you off. “It’ll be just this one time I promise, and I’m gonna pull out.” He spoke quickly, reassuringly, and you groaned in frustration.

You really didn’t want to risk anything, but you also desperately wanted him inside of you and you needed to release the tension that Rafe had been building after edging you for half an hour. Plus the alcohol and weed in your system weren’t exactly clearing your mind. When Rafe’s fingers twitched inside you, teasing the ache in your core, your mind was made up for you.

“Fuck! Ugh, fine, okay,” you reluctantly relented. “But just this one time. And you have to pull out, okay Rafe?”

“I promise baby, I promise.” His lips found yours as he fumbled with his shorts, pushing them down his legs and stroking his cock before pressing the tip against your slick entrance. You drew in a breath when he began to slide into you, slowly filling you until he bottomed out.

You wrapped your legs around him, gasping at the feeling of him beginning to fuck you slowly. His thick cock fit in you so snugly, his thrusts hitting deep inside you and making your legs quiver with pleasure.

Rafe’s lips met your neck, nipping and sucking at the tender flesh and you bit back a moan when he began to move his hips against yours faster.

“God you feel so fucking good, Y/N,” the blond moaned against your warm skin, relishing the way you squeezed his cock at his words and the pink tinge that had blossomed across your cheeks.

He brought one hand between your legs to swirl his thumb over your clit while he pumped into you. You mewled, head thrown back and dazed by how incredible Rafe was making you feel.

You gasped when his hand snaked around your throat, stealing your breath momentarily and Rafe groaned at the feeling of you clenching around him.

“Shit, Y/N/N, I feel like I can never get enough of you. Do you think our friends have any idea what a little slut you are for me?” Rafe grunted, beginning to fuck you harder.

“Uh uh,” was all you could manage in response between barely quieted moans and gasps of pleasure. Your head lolled back against the seat, eyes struggling to focus on the blond and mind blank of anything but the feeling of Rafe pushing his cock into you over and over.

The pressure between your legs was building, each stroke of his cock was dragging against your walls in a way that had you trembling, legs shaking around him.

That feeling was only multiplied when Rafe paused to grab your legs, pulling your heels up onto his shoulders as he caged you in against the seat of his truck, fucking you even deeper.

You suddenly remembered his lack of a condom, and anxiety spiked in your chest.

“R-Rafe!” You choked out in a panic, but he wasn’t listening to you, entirely focusing on how tight you were gripping him, practically pulsing around his cock as he fucked you. You frantically grabbed at his hand, trying to get his attention, but he swatted you off.

“Shhh, Y/N/N, it’s fine,” he mumbled, the grip around your throat tightened, and you blinked at him in surprise, mouth opening to make any attempt to protest, when his lips smothered yours. His tongue pushed into your mouth, hungrily devouring your whines.

Shoving against his strong arms led to nowhere and you felt like the only thing you could do was hold on to them to steady yourself.

With another stroke of his cock, the combination of overstimulation and anxiety unwillingly pushed you over the edge. Stars exploded behind your eyes as you came and your fingernails dug into Rafe’s forearms as he fucked you through your orgasm.

Rafe groaned at the feel, pumping into you frantically before suddenly stilling, cursing under his breath as he pushed himself into you to the hilt, spilling his seed inside of you.

When he removed his hand from your throat and pulled out of you, you coughed, gasping for breath, not even wanting to look him in the eye. You pushed him off of you, putting distance between the two of you in what now felt like a cramped backseat as you pulled your panties up your legs and sniffled.

The silence was deafening.

Your friend was the first to speak.

“… I’ll pay for the Plan B.”

You rolled your eyes, letting out a chuckle of disbelief.

“Rafe, that’s not what it’s about, I mean, I asked you to pull out and you didn’t! And you didn’t need to be choking me that hard, fuck!” You let out an angry sigh, glaring at him.

“Hey don’t act like you don’t love that shit, sweetheart,” Rafe snapped back, a cruel sneer twisting on his face. “You can act all high and mighty, but at the end of the day, you can’t help but beg to cum all over your best friend’s dick. Pretty fuckin’ hypocritical if you ask me.”

His reply had you rearing back like he had slapped you, and hot tears began to pool in your eyes.

“You didn’t have to say that, god, you’re such a fucking asshole sometimes!”

You turned around, rummaging on the floor for your clothes before you started to get dressed. Rafe placed a hand on your shoulder and you shoved him off.

“Y/N/N-”

“I’m done, Rafe.”

“What?”

“You heard me, I’m done. We can’t keep doing this if you’re not going to respect my boundaries, and honestly, you’ve been a shitty friend to me recently and I just need a break,” your voice quivered, and you met his eyes hesitantly.

“What are you saying?” His voice was even, cold. And that scared you more than when he was emotional.

“I’m saying,” you took a shaky breath, considering your words carefully. “I’m saying we should stop seeing each other for a while.”

He chuckled humorously, “Sure. We’ll see how long that lasts.”

You shook your head, biting your tongue as you turned to open the door to go back to the party. Before you could reach the handle, he grabbed your arm, turning you towards him and pulling you in to a forceful kiss.

You struggled against him for a few moments before just biting his tongue and using his surprise to push him off and open the truck door.

You rushed out of the truck and towards the party, grateful for the light of the garage, which had several people hanging around to smoke.

Rafe called your name and you spun around, backing away from him as he approached you.

“I’m fucking done, Rafe!” You hissed at him, loud enough for only him to hear. “Just… stay the hell away from me for a while. Please.” You slowly backed away from your friend, not taking your eye off him until you were inside.

You couldn’t run upstairs and get into a room fast enough, happy that he didn’t seem to have followed you into the house, but that didn’t stop you from locking the door before you collapsed onto the floor to sob.

#rafe cameron #dark!rafe cameron #dark rafe cameron #rafe cameron dubcon #rafe cameron smut #outer banks #obx #rafe cameron x reader #drew starkey #rafe cameron fanfic #ex friends with benefits

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