#( ;; i get it. i get the gaze and i get the looking. )
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Everybody Knows That I'm a Good Girl, Officers...
Synopsis. You don’t know what’s faster - how fast you were speeding down the highway, or how fast you’re on your knees for the hot officers that just so happen to pull you over.
Pairing. Officer! Gojo Satoru x Reader x Officer! Toji Fushiguro
Content. MDNI, fem! reader, police! au, unprotected, being pulled over, thréesome, eiffel tower, oral (female + male receiving), manhandling, dynamics, cúmplay, marking, they lowkey make it a competition, implied dp, some HEINOUS things, pet names, swearing.
Word count. 5.0k
A/N. I don’t condone actually speeding y’all.
You were screwed. Completely and utterly screwed.
“Shit shit shit-” you hiss, eyes flitting to the flashing red and blue lights in your rearview mirror, sirens blaring behind you. The engine roared, pavement a blur beneath your tires - a stupid, spur-of-the-moment decision. You knew you were pushing your luck with your late night speeding, fueled by an empty highway and even emptier adrenaline.
And, well, it seems like your little thrill-seeking caught up with you, quite literally, as you hastily pull over on the side of the road. Heart sinking when the police car parks right behind you - the final nail in your coffin.
You heave out a steadying breath, trying to get your thoughts in order long enough to come up with an even slightly believable explanation. Why did you think this was a good idea, again?
Tap! Tap! Tap!
Shit, in the heat of the moment you’d barely heard the heavy footsteps in the distance. Immediately snapping your head up to look at-
Oh.
Whatever flimsy excuse dies in your throat with just one glance at the officer knocking at your glass - the unfairly hot officer. Your face burns as you urgently roll down the window - partly out of necessity, and partly because you really wanted to see him better. Those snowy white locks, and- shit was that a dimple at the corner of the sly little smile curling his lips?
Twinkling gaze locked with yours, he rests an arm against the roof of the car - and you almost have to look away, your looming speeding ticket being the last thing on your mind at the way his arms flex so enticingly. Leaning down to smirk, “Ya have any idea how fast you were going, sweetheart?”
His voice was playful, and deep enough that it takes a second for you to find yours. Swallowing thickly, you bat your lashes innocently up at him, “Sorry, officer. I have no idea.”
“Fast enough that’s for sure,” he huffs out a laugh, eyeing the way you squirm embarrassedly in your seat, “C’mon, license n’ registration, now.”
Fumbling through your glove compartment, heat rushes down your spine when his fingertips happen just brush against yours as you hand over the documents. While he looks them over, you take the moment to read his badge - Gojo.
“Officer Gojo-”
“Satoru, m’not one for formalities.”
“Officer Satoru,” you press, words laced with just the right amount of flirtation. “I’m terribly sorry, I promise I didn’t know the speed limit.” And if it were any other moment then you’d be almost embarrassed at how you were fawning over him - but, well, one look at him and how could you resist?
“M’sure.” Not when he dips his head infinitely closer, hot breath fanning your face. Close - too close. And especially not when he mutters lowly, “Out.”
Which is how you found yourself strutting down the highway in a straight line, trying your very best not to tumble under the pressure of a looming Satoru.
“Keep walkin’.” And by God he was enjoying this a bit too much. Leaning against your car, arms crossed, and watching your every move. Stare so intense that a stupid little part of you couldn’t help but wonder whether his eyes lingered on you a bit too long to check for signs of drunkenness or something else.
“Well,” Satoru’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts, whirling around to catch him sweeping you one last time from head to toe. “Seems you’re not under the influence.” And you’ve barely let a smug smile make its way onto your face before he’s plowing on, “But m’still gonna have to write you up for speeding.”
“Oh come on.” you drag out, slightly whiny yet not desperate - at least, not yet. Leaning ever-so-slightly closer to him, making sure that the tight top you wore lets him see a perfect view of your breasts. “I really didn’t know.”
Eyes flickering down. Once. Twice.
Success.
But Satoru only raises his brows, muscles rippling as he crosses his arms over his chest. And by the twinkle of amusement in his gaze, you knew the smug bastard was doing this on purpose. “There are consequences for breaking the law, y’know~ Even for pretty lil’ things like you.”
Inching forward, “Can’t I just be let off with a warning, please?”
“And what makes you think you deserve one?”
Something hot, and prickly coils in your stomach at his tone. “Oh I dunno…” you trail off, so close now that there was only a hair’s breadth between your two. You could feel the heat of his body at this proximity, and it was making your head spin. “I’m sure I can convince you I do.”
Satoru huffs out a laugh, grinning, “Not me, pretty girl.” And you’ve barely registered the words before the police car door slams again, and he’s nodding his head somewhere behind you. “He’s the one that’ll be writing your ticket.”
Oh? Oh, shit.
Heart stopping, you whirl around to meet a matching, sly little smirk. “Meet, Toji, sweetheart. My patrol partner, of sorts.”
And in the dim lighting, you could make out how unfairly handsome he was. A bit older, uniform hugging him so sinfully tight - all dark hair and rugged, dangerous authority as he skims over your license. “Your superior.” the rough baritone of the newcomer’s voice sent shocks right down to your core.
“Semantics.”
“What’ve we got here?” Toji asks, tilting his head, unabashedly drinking in the sight of you just as his colleague did. “Skipping out on your duties again, brat?”
“Of course not. Just that this one,” Satoru starts. And your skin burns at the way he addresses you, words dripping with a mean little tone as if you were nothing but a plaything, “Says she didn’t know the speed limit, and wants to get off easy.”
“‘Get off easy’, huh?” Toji hums thoughtfully. “Don’t know if we can do that, doll.”
“Mhm, the old man’s right for once. Can’t put our jobs at risk, y’know?”
But oh you’d never be fooled by their little act, you catch the way their eyes meet, a silent understanding stirring between the two. You bite your lips coyly, holding back a smirk as you unhurriedly reach out to pull Toji in by his collar. His knee between your legs, your back falling against Satoru’s front, strong arms steadying you by the shoulders. “Are you sure?”
You could feel his heartbeat quickening, as was the latter’s, toned chest rumbling at the way his partner grits out a hoarse, “Positive.” Shit, they make it so easy.
Sandwiched between both men now, you whisper - low enough that they have to strain their heads closer to hear, “But I promise I’ll be a good girl, officers.”
Toji’s lips are on you before you know it - so hot and just as messy as you thought the man would be. One hand around your throat, squeezing lightly as he licks at the seam of your mouth. Such a desperate clash of lips and saliva as he bullies his tongue inside to intertwine with yours.
He tastes almost minty, with the slight taste of something so intoxicating that you don’t even realize you’re pushing down on Satoru, grinding in mindless little motions. At least, not until he’s gripping tightly at your hips, shifting your ass ever-so-slightly to graze against his swollen cock.
That makes you gasp and pull apart, tiny strings of saliva snapping as you look behind at Satoru. Feeling him, so big, so hot behind you - even through his uniform.
“Is that-”
“Shh, focus on what you’re doing, pretty girl.” he chuckles darkly. Breath ghosting your ear as a hand comes up to squish your cheeks together, forcing you to face forward. “Wouldn’t wanna make my dear supervisor here mad, huh?”
And it takes everything in you to take your mind off of how massive Satoru felt underneath you. Damp, and throbbing behind you, a wet little patch right where his angry tip was.
The only thing that actually snaps you out of your little reverie is Toji’s voice, husky, and dangerously sweet. “I gotta say, m’feeling left out.” he sighs mockingly, fingers tightening around your throat. “And after I’m the one supposed to be writing you up? How rude.”
You meet his eyes, half-lidded and looking at you hungrily. He liked this - seeing you all breathless and needy, so eager to please.
“M-m’sorry-” you squirm in their iron grasp.
“Now now, ‘sorry’ won’t always cut it.” Toji gives a soft, playful little smack to your ass, before addressing the other man. “Whaddaya say we do about that, brat?”
You look up at Satoru pleadingly, only to be met with a dark chuckle. Shit, if anything, you thought that he would be the nicer of the two - but that stupid little illusion falls apart with every word that falls from his lips. And oh how he enjoyed watching your slow, dawning realization that no you weren’t going to get mercy from either of them. “Guess we should teach her some manners, huh?”
“I dunno…I don’t think her slutty lil’ pussy will learn, though.”
That felt like a slap to the face - one that had your dripping cunt quivering in- fear? Anticipation? You really couldn’t give a fuck right now, not when they’re talking over you like you’re some object. Not when Toji’s shoving his knee deeper in-between your thighs, rocking your hips lightly. You whine, “P-please. I want to.”
“Want to what? C’mon now, use your words like a big girl.” It’s Satoru now, teasing you as you hesitate in giving into what you really want.
Your voice cracks pathetically, at the embarrassing admission. Being stuck between these two men way too much for you to handle. “I want…”
“Say it, sweetheart.”
“Wan’ to be fucked by you both. Have you teach me some m-manners.”
And then it happens.
Your back hits the cushion before you even realize what’s happening, sinking into your car backseat as the two officers shut the door behind you. Satoru sits on one side, while Toji pushes down the front seats on the other. Cramped, heady - and exactly where you wanted to be right now.
Shit, when did they even open the car door? You don’t have half the mind to wonder, because neither of them waste any time. Immediately groping your tits - your waist - your thighs, everywhere and anywhere they could reach.
Satoru’s kissing you now - drinking you in like you were his favorite taste. And you just think he might be yours, so sweet, like those cheap lollipops you saw at convenience stores. Drinking in your breathless gasps as Toji begins unbuttoning your top, letting it fall to God-knows-where and-
“Fuuuck.” he lets out a low whistle, “Kid, look at this.”
With an almost-pained grunt, Satoru’s pulling away. Eyes widening as he takes in the sight of you - braless, and exposed so shamefully for the both of them, of course. “No bra?” he mutters raspily. “Always knew you were a lil’ slut, doll.” But you knew by the way his breath hitches that he liked it.
And Toji did too, if the way his fingers danced along your hardened nipples was anything to go by. “What did I tell you? Bet she’s got such a naughty pussy, too.”
Your head is spinning, both from his words and the way Satoru’s claiming your lips once again. Murmuring into your mouth, “Only one way to find out.”
And that’s all that is said before they’re all but ripping your skirt off your hips. The poor, flimsy fabric nothing against the two men that were now looking at your drenched panties in pure awe.
In fact, Toji drops to his knees onto the car interior, face to face with your pretty pussy. Greedily drinking in the way your slick beads out so sloppily, the way it glistens and clenches around nothing. Gaze heated enough that you’re embarrassed.
“Ah ah-” Satoru tuts, seeing the way your bare thighs were trying to close - not letting yourself have even some semblance of dignity. “You said you’d be a good girl f’us, isn’t that right, old man?”
“Mhm, s’what she said.”
Shit, you can do nothing but have your legs wrestled open, Satoru’s fingers sliding so delicately underneath your panties. “You heard him, pretty.” Index sliding up and down, up and down up and- grazing your swollen folds, all the way from your base, stopping just below your throbbing clit. Tease. “So why don’t we let officer Toji here get a good look at how wet your pretty lil’ cunt is?”
Neither man waits for your answer - of course, they don’t.
Rip!
Several things happen at once, you barely have the time to react before Satoru’s holding your panties in his fist, tattered and soaked with your slick. Your mouth drops open in disbelief as he dangles it like a badge of honor, holding it up, up, up, only to breathe in your scent obscenely. “Fuck, you even smell like the perfect angel.”
Toji - taking the opportunity - dives face-first into your pussy. Groaning at the taste - you were so sweet, so addictive on his tongue. Licking lazily up your swollen folds, letting your sweet sweet juices get all over his face as he buries himself nose-deep.
“Oh!” you gasp, fisting his locks in your hands, “Shit shit shit-” Toji was in eating you out, exactly as he was with kissing - sloppy. Unabashed. Letting his tongue move so messily all over your cunt, while his colleague held you still. Letting him devour you as he pleased.
“Shhh, don’t worry, sweetheart.” Satoru whispers into your ear, every cute lil’ whine of yours going straight to his painfully hard cock.
And, well, Satoru can’t just sit here and watch Toji have you all to himself, now. Can he? Which is why he begins playing with your sensitive nipples. Twirling his hot tongue around one, rolling the other between his fingers.
Drunk off your moans and the way you’re so overstimulated by both men. Unable to decide between where your body wants to focus on - grinding down on Toji’s relentless mouth or leaning towards Satoru’s. And it’s driving you mad.
“Hngh- fuck- Feel’s good.” you whine, bucking your hips wildly.
“Yeah? Ya like this?” Toji speaks first, words muffled around your clit. Sucking and rolling his tongue harshly across it. Over and over. Strangely in time with the quick, maddening little circles that Satoru licks around your nipples.
Being ruined like this from both ends was way too much - so you can only nod deliriously. Shaking, bucking your hips into his touch so desperately. Letting Toji throw your legs over his shoulders, looking so fucking gorgeous in-between your legs like he wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. Brows furrowing in bliss as he tilts his head back, back, back so that your juices slide down his throat. “Shit.” Lapping even faster at your pussy. “Could get used to this.”
And let it be known that Gojo Satoru was a jealous man, because he pulls away from your tits with a lewd pop! Grunting sulkily, “Move over. Wan’ taste her cute pussy, too.”
Either Toji doesn’t hear him over the lewd little squelches coming from down below, or he ignores it - probably the latter. Continuing to make out with your cunt so messily.
But Satoru was nothing if not persistent, snaking down a hand to gather your slick on his fingertips. Immediately shoving them in his mouth and oh- You watch blearily as his eyes roll to the back of his head, sucking his fingers clean like a man possessed.
“Oh- fuck.” his mouth drops into a soft oh! Leaning forward like he wanted to kiss you senseless, only to halt and shuffle off the carseat. Because he wanted to make out with your cunt more. Dropping to the ground beside Toji, Satoru gives him a minute shove, “Move. M’not letting you be the only one to taste this heavenly pussy.”
“Hah- ya think you can eat her out the way she deserves, brat?” Licking at your inner thigh, “Lemme show you how a real man does it.”
“Watch and learn, old man.” Both men push your legs as far apart as they’d go, spreading you so shamefully for them. You reel from the stretch and the sinful sight below you.
Because immediately, they’re making out hungrily with your cunt together. Sloppily and needy - tongues bumping into each other, intertwining, burying their faces between your legs as they eat you out like a little competition. Satoru’s licking up and down your slit, pooling your slick on his tongue, while Toji’s wrapping his pretty lips around your ravaged clit.
“Sh-shit. Satoru- Toji. Ah! M’so close.” you squirm as they moan into your wet cunt, the vibrations sending white-hot pleasure running up your spine. Drinking in your little whimpers like they were addicted.
“Like this?” Satoru groans. “Feels good being eaten out by the both of us?”
The car fills with your breathy moans, and it’s hard to speak with the way they’re alternating between flicking your clit and squeezing your tongue through your swollen folds. Stretching you out, thrusting at a frenzied pace - you don’t even know who is who at this point. Just getting off with a needy, “Ngh- fuck, yes yes yes- Feels s’good!”
“Like being our little whore, doll?”
Maybe it was Toji’s words - so filthy even when he was calling out to you sweetly. Or maybe it was the way Satoru was grinding his jaw as he plunges his soft tongue deeper into your plushy walls. Probably it was how they both looked at you - like you were their last meal.
Because you’re cumming, and cumming so messily all over their mouths. “Shit. S’too much. Ah-”
And neither man stops - almost like it was difficult to part. Letting you drag your sloppy pussy incoherently all over while they continue to flick and dip their tongues. Big, fat tears pricking at your eyes from the overstimulation.
“Heh, you’re gonna make her cry.” Satoru grins, as he finally parts. Your slick glossing so prettily all over the bottom half of his face - and his partner wasn’t any better. Rising from in-between your thighs looking very decidedly not sorry for eating you out till you cry.
You watch, speechless, as Toji swipes a thumb over his lips, watching in wonder the way it becomes sticky with your juices. “Could get used to this all over m’face, right?”
“Mhm.” the other man hums, absentmindedly fumbling with his shirt. Revealing smooth, milky skin - he was so deliciously sculpted, all toned muscled and a slutty waist that made your mouth water. Shit, he was a masterpiece.
But Satoru - that impatient bastard - doesn’t even give you the time to admire the entirety of him before he’s unbuckling his belt. “Though I think she’d look better with something else.”
You gasp as he pulls down his pants, tugging just enough that his swollen cock springs out. Absolutely massive and such an angry red, weeping tip dripping all the way down his length. He was so long - the type of long that had you knowing that won’t be walking properly tomorrow.
“How crude.” Toji titters, but shit how he loved the way you seemed so cockdrunk from the mere sight of Satoru’s dick. It almost made some tiny part of him jealous.
“Whatever, dibs on her cunt,” Satoru grunts, one hand moving to toy so messily with your dripping entrance. Pointedly ignoring the heated glare thrown his way by Toji, and the way he begins rolling your clit between two fingers. Almost like a little standoff - with you stuck in the middle.
Toji breaks first, “M’your superior, I should be the one to fuck her pretty pussy.”
“Aw come on.” the other man whines, and it would almost be comical if it wasn’t for the way his long fingers were massaging your hot core. “Think of it as a ah- learning experience. After all, who knows whether you’d hurt yourself trynna fuck her the way I can.”
“You mouthy little-”
“Now, pretty girl, let’s see if y’can walk the talk.”
And oh you should’ve known better than to think you’d be stuffed inside the backseat of a car with two police officers without them throwing you around like a rag doll.
Immediately, Toji’s manhandling you, fingers digging into your waist as he pushes you on all fours. Lining his aching bulge right in front of your soppy mouth, saliva seeping into his pants.
Well, there was no use wearing soiled clothing, right? You watch, cunt clenching in anticipation as he shoves down his pants in record speed.
Oh, the universe was playing a joke on you - because Toji was just as big. If a bit thicker where Satoru was longer. Prominent veins glistening in the dim light, precum dripping all the way down to the maintained tufts of black at his base.
Shit, your eyes flit between the intimidatingly big cocks. One in front of you, grazing his fat tip across your lips, and the other positioned right over your sloppy entrance. You weren’t going to make it out alive.
“Having second thoughts?” Toji scoffs, edging his hips closer. Greedily taking in how fucking pretty you looked with his precum glossing your mouth, messy and dripping down to your chin. “Wan’ tap out?”
You barely even have to your head “no” - because Satoru’s answering for you. Spreading your pussy lips with his thumb, taking one, long look before chuckling, “Course not. Y’should see the way her needy cunt is sucking my thumb up.”
“Well then. Guess we’ll get to the real fun.”
With that, Toji’s stuffing himself into your mouth. A low hiss leaving the back of his throat as you take him so well, lips bulging around his thick cock. Tonguing at the sensitive slit in a way that makes him lose his mind.
Not even giving your a proper warning as he pushes in inch by fucking inch, watching you choke and gag around him. Not stopping till he’s got your nose pressed all the way against his toned pelvis. “Shit, relax yer throat. Fuck, ah- just like that, doll.”
And if you thought he was mean then you weren’t prepared for Satoru at all - not with the way he was immediately squeezing his thick head into your snug cunt. Head thrown back as your heavenly walls can’t decide between pushing him out or milking the fucking soul out of him.
“S’tight, fuckin’ love this pussy.” Satoru gasps, jaw clenched, trying not to just fuck recklessly into your cunt until you’re drunk on his cock. But God is it difficult to keep his sanity when all he gets in response from you is a choked, wet gurgles. Body bowing into both of theirs as you desperately try to relax both your throat and your cunt.
“Gonna stand around waitin’ or am I gonna have to ruin her pretty pussy for you?” Toji taunts, voice strained as he begins thrusting in quick, harsh strokes into your hot mouth. “Talked big, huh, kid?”
“Fuck off.”
And Satoru’s never one to lag behind. After all, he did graduate at the top of his batch at the academy - he can’t lose face in front of you or his annoying superior either.
So he tightens his grip on your hips, hard enough that he’s pretty sure it bruises. Pushing down on your spine to arch your back deeper onto his cock. “I dunno.” he drawls, “What do you think, sweetheart? Want me to fuck into this tight lil’ pussy? Ruin you on my cock?”
Of course, the only response he gets is a low, wet moan. Luckily, both men understand it as a loud, resounding “yes”.
“Awww, look at her- hah- Cock-drunk little slut can’t even speak.” It’s the last thing that spills out of Satoru’s mouth before he’s pushing past that tight ring of resistance. No care or concern for your poor pussy because shit his thoughts were too mangled with how heavenly you felt around him.
“You got this, pretty.” he whispers, fucking into you in small, shallow little thrusts just to fit himself inside you. “Take me all like the good girl you are.”
And oh were you such a good girl for him - Satoru thinks he could almost cum on the spot as he finally bottoms out. Sucking up his cock so fucking sinfully as his heavy balls smacking your ass, already so wet with your slick and his precum.
“There ya are.” Toji hums, the image of you choking on his cock while you struggle to take Satoru’s making his head absolutely spin. He can’t stop himself from leaning down and kissing hotly down your spine, making you buck and gag deeper around his dick. In the haze of it all, he catches Satoru’s amused gaze. Spitting out, “What?”
“Softie.”
“Oh, shut up. You can’t even handle her pussy.”
And Satoru took that personally, because he’s reeling his hips back, back, back - all the way till his angry, weeping tip just kissed you sloppy holes. “M’gonna show you, softie.” Body moving before his mind, he starts fucking into your pretty cunt recklessly. Hands groping all over your body possessively, hips moving in rough, harsh thrusts fueled by pure need and the urge to ruin you. Over and over-
Toji only smiles at the little show, your garbled whines every time Satoru hits your poor cervix going straight to his cock - quite literally. And if he angled his head just right, he could see the way your cute cunt was stretching obscenely. Barely-lucidly, he wonders whether your throat would bulge around his just as much.
He taps your cheek, signaling you to blink those pretty eyes so tearily up at him. Balls squeezing painfully, he really can’t help but pump his cock into you faster, matching Satoru’s merciless cadence - ruining you from both sloppy holes. “Sorry, doll. Gotta big ego, so we can’t be outdone, now, can we?”
And then it’s like something snaps because suddenly every movement becomes sloppier, more erratic. Toji’s got a hand around your throat, feeling each thrust as he ruins your gorgeous face. Abs flexing each time he drags your lips on his cock up and down up and down up and- like some toy.
Satoru wasn’t any nicer either - becoming so fucking messy as he fucks you from behind like he was claiming his win. Faster, sloppier.
Biting his lip at the way your ass jiggles each time his hips snap into yours. Pulling you back by the hair to bounce you like some little slut from both ends. And, maybe if you were in any better state of mind you’d have said something about the way they were using you like their favorite fucktoy - but right now you were so close. Dangerously close. It was too much.
And they probably feel it because suddenly Toji’s leaning down, murmuring hotly against your ear, “S- fuck. Ngh- Close?”
“Fuck, I can feel it too.” Satoru voices from behind, so hoarse with desire, “Suckin’ me up so hah- t-tight it’s almost hard to fuck her.” It’s his cue to reach down deftly and start toying with your ravaged clit, still so sensitive and sore from before. Drawing erratic little circles on it, pinching with his fingers.
You’re letting out throaty, muffled moans of their names, making Toji’s hips stutter. Holding you still as his aching balls smack your ass. “Hngh- shit. Keep doin’ that, brat, this one here loves it.”
“What did I tell ya? S’like this pussy’s made f’me.”
And if they couldn’t feel it then they certainly could see it. They could see the way you were getting messier, pussy dripping all over the carseat now. Mascara running down your face, saliva and precum trailing down your chin. Honestly, it was fucking hard to look at you without cumming right there, too. Because you looked completely and utterly fucked out. So close that it was almost painful.
Maybe that’s why both men speed up their pace impossibly, no reason or rhyme. You feel a wolfish bite on your exposed neck - Satoru - fingers frenzied on your clit, thrusts stemming from such a carnal, depraved part of him. Falling out of sync with Toji as they get so sloppy with the goal to get you off - and get you off so hard that you can’t think about anything but them, them, them-
“Cum, doll.”
This orgasm is more obscene than the last. Far more. Because you honestly don’t even realize you’re cumming, not until you’re seeing stars behind your eyes and feeling Satoru and Toji slamming harshly into you. Once. Twice. Before spilling into you in unison.
And it’s so much that you don’t even know if you can take it.
Toji’s salty on your tongue, pumping thick, hot ropes of tongue into your mouth. Pulling out purposefully like the smug bastard he is to see his seed all messy and dribbling down your face. While Satoru’s much the opposite, keeping his twitching cock stuffed into your tight pussy while he paints your walls white. Not letting you waste a single drop.
But oh he didn’t mind when you finally pull yourself off of Toji’s dick. Cum smearing so sloppily all over your face, and shit he doesn’t think you’ve ever looked prettier.
And Satoru really doesn’t mind when you look back and pull him into a kiss - Toji, too. If you can even call it that, a messy clash of teeth and tongue and cum. So much of it. Swirling and sucking on your tongue, bumping into each other. Just pure fucking filth.
It gets Satoru’s dick so hard and throbbing all over again at how obscene it all was. Some weird little part of him is almost disappointed as Toji breaks the kiss - but not for long. Because his superior shifts, splaying himself out beneath you, while he pulls your limp body on top.
Ah. Great minds really do think alike, he thinks as Toji drags his tip lazily all over your cunt. Pooling your juices on his fat head, grazing your poor, abused clit to where your sloppy pussy was quivering and still stuffed full of Satoru’s cock. Well, not like you didn’t have room for one more. Right?
It’s all you can do to babble deliriously, “W-wha-”
“Shhh, doll. We’ll take care of it.”
“After all, sweetheart, you did say you’d be our good girl…”
A/N. This got taken down the first time I posted it LMAO.
Plagiarism not authorized.
#gojo x reader#gojo smut#gojo x you#jjk x reader#jjk smut#jjk x you#gojo satoru x reader#gojo satoru smut#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen smut#jujutsu kaisen x you#jjk#jjk fic#jujutsu kaisen#tonywrites#toji x reader#toji smut#toji x you#toji fushiguro x reader#toji fushiguro smut
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I am obsessed with this edit!
Can you do a spencer reid x bau reader where she is very closed off emotionaly so he doesnt know if she likes him back or not until she does the little "tuck her hair behind her ears thing"?
𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐭𝐮𝐜𝐤 - 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝 𝐱 𝐛𝐚𝐮!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫
𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 you were someone spencer found very hard to read. that is until the day of your birthday, where you accidentally do the infamous double tuck
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 PURE FLUFF, my beloved awkward spence <3
𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 2.5k
𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 this is so sickeningly sweet. my heart is literally about to implode, they’re so awkward and wholesome. this request was so fucking cute i just had to do something with it
𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
"Garcia!" You smiled sweetly, immediately infecting those around with a mirror of your very smile. You held one of your favorite candles between your hands, tracing the glass beneath your fingertips— You had just been meaning to buy a new one.
Garcia beamed proudly, knowing she had nailed your birthday gift, a task many deemed imposible. It’s not that you were hard to please, not at all. You had always been closed off with those around you, opting to talk very little about yourself and allowing people to talk a lot about themselves, which is what people nowadays loved doing. As a profiler, you knew exactly how to prevent prying eyes from seeing anything past the depths of yours.
However, to Spencer particularly, it was absolutely infuriating to not be able to read you properly. Any hypothesis he made up in his head based on any of your gazes, your gestures, your small quirks and antics— only turned out being proven wrong since you'd completely redirect him in an opposite direction to what he believed you were thinking.
He was constantly thrown off by you, and Spencer wasn't the type of person who particularly enjoyed being wrong or not being able to perfectly calculate and analyze a situation. His job was profiling after all.
There was a single reason and he tried to remain completely oblivious. But he knew that the only reason as to why he wanted so desperately to know about you was because he liked you— he really liked you.
As in 'became a blabbering mess around you' liked you, as in 'couldn't formulate a coherent sentence around you' liked you— It was so hard for him to act normal around you. Anytime you appeared out of no where, asking how his day had been, and offering another one of those teeth-rottening sweet smiles, he'd go blank and feel utterly stupid. Every aspect of being a genius vanished into thin air when it came to you.
Morgan teased him persistently, being able to see his fuming crush from a mile away. Spencer sat down quietly, watching you hug Garcia happily as you sat the candle down onto your desk. When you pulled away, you tucked a single strand of hair behind one ear, smiling brightly.
"So, has she done it yet?" Morgan inquired, appearing right behind Spencer as he watched you silently from his own desk. Spencer flinched, turning immediately in his chair, looking over at his fellow co-worker and friend like a deer caught in headlights. He used his hand to push Morgan's face away from his with a shove. Garcia, who accompanied Morgan, stood by the side, bemused entirely by the situation .
Morgan lowered his tone, lacing it with implicit teases that flew past his familiar smirk. He leaned against Spencer's desk. "So how's the stalking going Lover boy?"
Garcia laughed to herself unwittingly while she mixed her coffee around in her mug with a spoon. Spencer glowered at the two of them.
"I'm not stalking," He defended matter of factly. "And stop with the 'lover boy'"
"But that's what you'd call someone who's head over heels for our dear little—" Morgan began saying in a sing-song voice as he poked at Spencer's cheek, desperate to get a reaction out of his constant teasing. With a firm slap, Spencer shooed him away, blushing profusely.
"I'm not.!" He fussed. Garcia let out a soft snort, to which Spencer was not amused by. In the slightest.
"Really?" Garcia asked, almost in amusement. The only one truthfully believing what Spencer was saying was himself.
"I'm just looking t-to—" Spencer pulled his lips into a flat line, unable to come up with a plausible excuse quick enough. "—to figure out what she may want for her birthday."
Garcia and Morgan exchanged a brief glance before simultaneously regarding Spencer. He sputtered, still glaring at them.
"What?!"
"Oh nothing.." Garcia took a sip of her coffee with a smirk. "Has she done it yet?"
"I asked the same thing!" Derek turned to Garcia. They laughed together as if one big secret was being tossed around in front of everyone and no one else knew. Spencer furrowed his brows, looking at them oodly.
"Done what?" Spencer couldn't help but ask, curiosity tickling him.
"The double tuck," Garcia stated, looking back over at Reid. The furrow in Spencer's brow deepened as he opened his mouth to speak.
"The—what?"
Derek then proceeded to give a very specific demonstration of whatever it was Garcia was talking about. Derek batted his lashes, putting on the most innocent face he could muster and giggled nervously as he pretended to tuck hair behind both ears. Spencer cringed at his antics while Garcia let out a laugh.
"When she really likes a guy and gets nervous she tucks her hair behind both ears at the same time,"
Spencer looked back over at you as you handed a fellow co-worker a few files, talking aimlessly. You threw your head back laughing at something the woman who chatted with you had said and Spencer couldn't stop a small smile from creeping it’s way onto his face.
"She hasn't," He said, still looking at you intently. Garcia and Derek shared a look and with one more sip of coffee, she added.
"She will.”
"Watch out lover boy, she'll catch you staring—" Morgan whispered in Spencer's ear, which only caused him to reach back in protest and slap Derek away. He turned to glare at him while Morgan laughed.
You thanked Garcia one final time and turned your attention over at Morgan who was now laughing in a way that you felt intrigued enough to want to be involved in whatever it was the two of them were laughing at. You tilted your head slightly to the side, furrowing your brows with a smile.
"What's so funny over there boys?" Penelope asked, lips curving into a sly smirk while she crossed her arms across her body. Spencer froze, looking over at you immediately.
"Uh— we, uhm—" He stammered, cheeks beginning to buzz with heat. Before he could dig his grave any deeper, JJ and Emily walked into the room singing happy birthday with a tray of cupcakes in their hands.
You turned to them, eyes blowing wide. A nervous laugh erupted out of you, causing you to lower your face and hide it in your hands, feeling profusely embarrassed. Getting this kind of public attention wasn’t something you preferred, and it made you wonder if there was anyone that truthfully enjoyed getting their chants of happy birthday’s in public.
Spencer’s could practically feel and hear the way his heart bursted in his chest as he watched you crinkle your face in embarrassment. It was evident on every single fraction of his face— the awe that pooled behind his irises and the way his cheeks were tainted a specific shade of pink.
"Someone's fallin'—" Derek started.
"Shut up."
The day had gone by swiftly. It had been a slow and uneventful day, so no crimes were up for reviewing. You had instead, been drowned in paperwork that had your back aching by the end of the day.
However, being surrounded by all of your friends and receiving so much appreciation and love on your special day had been a plus, urging you further to push throughout the rest of the day.
Hotch had given you an okay to leave early, and knowing that your parents were waiting for you to take you out for your birthday dinner, you hurriedly packed up your things into your purse.
On your way out, you shot a goodbye to everyone with a bright smile plastered across your features. As you walked past Spencer's desk, you offered him a brief glance accompanied with a small wave. “Bye Spence,"
He waved back woefully, blinking rapidly and pressing his lips into a tight smile that inched sideways. Not wanting to give himself the pleasure of gawking at you further, he turned to his files, swirling his pen in his hand nervously.
Someone cleared their throat, catching Spencer's attention. He turned seeing JJ, Emily and Morgan peering over at him from their respective desks.
"Really?" Emily pinched the skin between her eyebrows with frustration.
"What?" Suddenly he was feeling mortified that all his co-workers had been watching his entire inner-turmoil.
"Did you even give her the gift you spent weeks putting together?" JJ tested, resting her chin in her hand. Spencer looked away sheepishly, scribbling something onto his paper and not entirely sure how JJ knew about it.
"I— I forgot.." He said, voice small while he tripped over his own words.
"Reid, just get out there," Derek urged. He was beginning to get restless with watching the two of you ghost around eachother like two idiots.
Spencer stopped scribbling and glanced over at you briefly as you walked out the main door that lead towards the elevators. He looked back over to the others who all shot him a look of encouragement. He supposed that it wouldn't be a bad idea just to— you know, give you your present.
The impulse in him was screaming and yelling at him to just get up and chase after you. But another part of him was forcing him to stay glued to his desk, letting you leave yet again.
It really didn't help him not being sure where you stood when it came to your friendship. At times, he’d get the smallest intuition that maybe, just even possibly, you were on the same page as him, but the insecurity that lingered within him was loud enough to prevent him from ever doing anything about it.
He had to get over himself— it was just a present. Everyone had given you one except him, and he didn't want you thinking he didn't care. He knew he didn't give it to you not because he didn't care but because he cared too much and he felt really scared that maybe by giving you his gift you may not—
He clapped his eyes shut, realizing he really had to stop overthinking and just, in the ‘wise’ words of Morgan, 'shoot his shot'.
Spencer, peered down at his pocket, and back over at the door.
You pushed the glass door open, looking down at your phone and tugging your scarf up to cover your nose from the piercing cold.
"Y/n!" You turned, surprised to see Spencer running through the lobby and out the main door, catching up to you.
You watching him, wide-eyed and taken aback as he jogged up to you, opening his mouth to say something but having to lean over to catch his breath. He didn’t know if it had been the brief run or the unforeseen anxiety that caused him to run out of breathe— whichever it was, he needed to work on it.
You let out a soft laugh, finding his behavior amusing. “You okay?”
You followed him with your gaze while he finally straightened himself. No words were said as his chest heaved. He looked into your eyes, immediately regretting it as his rapid pulse hammered against his head. You too began to feel your heart begin to pick up its pace until you found yourself reaching up and tucking your hair behind both ears, looking at the floor sheepishly
And there it was.
Spencer's mind stopped running the second he registered your movements and Garcia's words flashed across his mind so quickly he almost didn’t remember.
"When she really likes a guy and gets nervous she tucks her hair behind both ears at the same time,"
"I, uhm—" He started, trying to prevent a grin from rising onto his face at his newfound information.
You watched him curiously, starting to wonder if his cheeks were turning pink due to how cold it was or if he was possibly blushing.
Spencer reached into his pocket and took out a small chained bracelet. It was small and dainty— nothing too flashy or flamboyant. He held his slightly trembling hand out to you, revealing the small, nearly minuscule butterfly charm that sat on center of it. You stared at it in awe, reaching over and grasping it.
As you stared at it, you recalled the first conversation you had with Spencer. It was nearly spring and you were on one of your first cases with the team. As you inspected one of the crime scenes, a butterfly had suddenly latched onto your wrist.
You looked at the small insect, briefly startled, but once realizing the absence of danger, you quickly allowed yourself to gaze upon the bug with curiosity and awe.
Spencer watched you intently. He knew close to nothing about you, but something inside him twisted with your tender gaze towards something so small and fragile. He couldn’t stop himself from opening his mouth and beginning one of his endless rants on that specific species of butterfly and how butterflies were a symbolism of good luck and, oh so on.
He couldn't stop talking and that was the first impression you had gotten from Spencer. He was profusely embarrassed afterwards, realizing he had probably overstepped a boundary you had yet to set given since— he really didn't know you all that much.
However, you smiled at him and asked him to tell you more. Since that day, butterflies had become your favorite.
And since that day, Spencer felt his heart double in size any time you were near him.
"Spence," You looked back up at him. "This is beautiful."
He smiled awkwardly, and shuffled on his heels, feeling his pulse quicken. How fast can one’s pulse beat? "I didn't want you thinking I had forgotten about a gift I just, didn't really know when to give it to you and I though—"
You watched his every movement intently, noticing the small pool of fog leave his mouth with each breath due to the cold, not even trying to avoid lingering your gaze on his lips.
"No! No—" You waved your hands in front of him frantically, panicking at the thought of him feeling in any way obligated to get you stuff, even if it was your birthday. It felt too indulgent from him— especially from him.
“It's okay..! You didn't have to get me anything, much less something so special,"
"I—" Spencer looked to the side. With the simple confirmation of your little hair tuck, he decided to push his luck, relying completely on Garcia’s analysis. "I wanted to."
You felt heat all over your face. You grabbed the small chain and easily slipped it onto your wrist, looking at it in awe. You once again, unconsciously tucked your hair behind both of your ears. Spencer noticed this but this time, he allowed himself to smile widely like kid on christmas morning.
You smiled down at it. Spencer watched you, eyes pooling with affection. You looked back up at him, realizing the way his gazed lingered on you. There was some form of affection that was quite evident, but you couldn’t allow yourself to think anything of it. Nothing was said, and that made you incredibly nervous.
He opened his mouth, wanting to say something but not being able to. The mix of the piercing cold and the invasive anxiety wasn’t doing him any good as his shoulders shook lightly. You took notice, and it made sense since he had chased you down in nothing but a blue button up shirt. Without a single word, you reached for your scarf and unwrapped it from your neck. You’d do okay with the cold. You had enough layers— and you were blushing enough to heat your whole body up.
You pushed yourself onto the tip of your toes, wrapping it around Spencer's neck in order to give him some sort of warmth. Spencer immediately grew dizzy, failing to ignore how the scarf smelled just like you always did— a burnt vanilla mixed with the sweetest notes of sugared petals, warm and inviting. He also failed to ignore how close you suddenly were.
Something in you flipped and with a slap of encouragement, you once again pushed yourself onto your toes and planted a tender kiss onto his cheek, staining it ever so slightly with the soft red chapstick you were wearing.
"Blue looks good on you," You said, hands still playing with the blue scarf that sat comfortably around his neck. You wish you could’ve taken a picture of his face, starstruck and dizzy.
You caught the small red stain on his cheek. You smiled, reaching up and smudging your thumb across the stain. "So does red."
Spencer had nearly felt his knees buck. Your sudden bold moves were causing him to spin. It had always been so hard trying to decipher your intentions and antics, but with you standing so close to him, for the first time, he found everything so clear and evident. Like the last layer of secrecy had been ripped off in the matter of seconds and he was entranced.
That could be part of the reason as to why Spencer couldn’t stop himself from leaning down and placing a firm kiss onto your lips.
You froze momentarily, completely caught off guard, especially since you had always thought what you felt for Spencer was one-sided. But soon enough, you eased and smiled into the kiss. It was sweet and soft, innocent and pure, and it was perfect.
He pulled away harshly, suddenly realizing what he had done. "I’m—"
“No!—“ You were surprised at the lack of stability in your voice. “T-that was fine,”
Oh if one could kick themselves. Fine?!
He cleared his throat, words caught deep into his throat. You blushed profusely, wanting to slap yourself back into reality as you grew more and more fidgety and nervous.
"I—" You both said simultaneously. This was embarrassing.
You shot him a nervous smile as you both proceeded to stumble upon each-others words, neither being able to form a coherent sentance.
"Are— Are you doing anything tomorrow..?" Spencer asked, anxiety clawing at him relentlessly.
"No," You felt anticipation in your chest as you shuffled your grip on your purses strap.
"Would you want to?—” He asked, voice small, as if testing the waters and terrified to how you would reply. “You know, do something..?”
A giddy smile grew onto your face, as your hands reached up, and for a third time, tucked hair behind both ears.
"I’d love to," You said. Spencer felt like he was on cloud nine.
"Great! Uh—" He glanced down, pursing his lips. "Cool..”
You stifled a laugh, as he peered over at you with a smile. "I'll text you,"
"Cool.." You pointed over to your car, realizing that it was getting late. "I'm going to, uh—"
A grin that stretched from ear to ear was plastered across Spencer face as you began walking away, also smiling to yourself giddily. Once your back was turned to him, you squeezed your eyes shut, nearly jumping with joy.
"Happy birthday..!" He shot out. You turned, offering him a wave. Spencer watched until you climbed into your car and left the driveway, with the widest, most stupidly huge smile plastered all over his face.
Of course, when he reappeared at his desk, wrapped in your scarf, cheek stained slightly, and the most dazed look splattered all across his features, Morgan didn't skip the opportunity to tease the hell out of him— again.
#fanfic#fic rec#fiction#criminal minds#spencer reid#spencer#spencer x reader#spencer x you#criminal minds fic#criminal minds x reader#spencer x y/n#spencer x oc#spencer reid x oc#spencer reid x fanfiction#spencer reid x you#spencer reid fandom#spencer reid smut#dr spencer reid#spencer reid x self insert#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x fem!reader smut#spencer reid x fem!readr#spencer hastings#fluff#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds fandom#criminal minds fluff
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hcs of bakugou / todoroki being a hardcore simp for reader maybe?
“I WANNA BE YOURS.”
KATSUKI BAKUGOU/SHOTO TODOROKI x reader.
summary: what the request said!
warnings: swearing (bakugou…), mentions of todoroki’s childhood (very brief), that’s it i believe!
a/n: i love this request. i hope i wrote this to your liking!
—
BAKUGOU KATSUKI —
he is a very subtle simp. you probably wouldn’t even think he liked you if you guys weren’t already dating. the way he shows his love for you is… questionable.
he does the simple things like following you around like a lost puppy (even though he swears he does NOT) .
he’ll definitely demand you never leave his side so he can always be there to protect you.
“you’re so weak, you need me to be there to protect you at all times.”
you’ll just nod, enjoying your boyfriends presence. (he’s actually geeking over you aswell and the fact you grace him with your presence).
he takes you everywhere with him and doesn’t care about what anyone says. oh, aizawa paired him up with kirishima? you’re coming with. you can’t stay a second away from him before he’s rushing around like a headless chicken looking for you.
your biggest fan by far, anything you do he’s practically on the floor worshipping you. then the next second he’ll be calling your outfit disgusting in the sweetest way possible.
he’ll also deny the fact he’s a simp for you. one time, kirishima caught the poor boy gazing at you, dare i say LOVINGLY, across the room as you did a mundane task.
kirishima has never grinned wider than he did when he noticed this. your boyfriend noticed the quiet chuckles leaving his friend and turned towards him.
“what the fuck are you laughing at?”
“you stalking y/n!”
“I WAS NOT STARING AT HER.” sure… liar. you literally just outed yourself…
bakugou loved you, even though he shows it in his weird, weird ways.
SHOTO TODOROKI —
the sweetest, sweetest boyfriend ever. literally the ideal boyfriend anyone could have SIMPLY because of how doting he is towards his partner.
he’s absolutely enamoured with you. he isn’t shameful about it either! (referencing one of my other head-canons) .
this boy will downright show his love for you.
we all know shoto has a hard time with social cues, he blames it on his childhood and the lack of social times he had – always being isolated.
that’s also the reason why he doesn’t understand why he can’t stare you down like a hawk and not expect people to be slightly worried… why is he staring at you like he wants to eat you?
cuteness aggression is a thing. you both get it when you’re with each other.
you can’t believe you managed to secure this boy. he never opened up to just anyone, yet for you he made an exception. you flew that all the time.
meanwhile your boyfriend is still in denial you two are dating. every time you bring up your realtionship he’s blushing like a maniac and shying away from you.
your classmates notice the little things. such as you placing your phone face up only for it to be face down a couple seconds later because todoroki fixed it for you knowing you don’t want people staring at every notification on your phone (this is so me guys i’m sorry).
he is very attentive, he’s such a simp. he’ll pick up on the little things. sometimes, you feel like he knows you better than you know yourself.
there was definitely one time you had been making yourself a snack in the kitchen, forgetting to get one of your favourite piece of food for the snack .
once your snack was made, you frowned at the missing piece of your food you wanted.
starting to get upset, you looked around for something to make up for this.
“here.” a soft voice spoke causing you to relax at the sound of todorokis gentle tone.
“i can’t find my-”
“y/n. here.”
you looked at your boyfriends hand, noticing he was holding multiple variations of the missing food item you craved.
your lips trembled at his thoughtfulness and you pulled your boyfriend in for a hug as he returned it with a smile on his face.
he’s too sweet for you and such a simp!
—
a/n: guys, bare with me if there is spelling errors. this was not proof-read! i hope this was good enough, it was kind of short.
SEND REQUESTS! 🤍🤍
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Ooo can we have a blurb where bombshell! R and Spence were either on a date or were about to have their first time but got called into work? They both look a little annoyed at being interrupted. The bombshell reader series has my heart 🥺
im picturing boyband reid here maybe <3 fem
cw suggestive content
“These are trick buttons,” you accuse.
Spencer laughs for the tenth time in as many minutes, perhaps tickled under your hands, more likely that he’s just feeling the same rush of hormones (namely adrenaline) as you are. “They’re not trick buttons, it’s ‘cos your hands are shaking.”
He takes your poor hands in his. “It’s okay,” he adds softly, “I can do it.”
“I’m not nervous, I’m excited,” you say, less soft, more desperate than he is, or at least on the surface.
“I know, I know–” He catches your lips in a sudden eager kiss, a hand jumping to your cheek to ferry you closer, the other sewing down between your two chests to work open his fiendish buttons.
“See,” he says between kissing, “easy.”
“I’d like to see this level of dexterity when you unclasp my bra,” you mumble, kissing with every bit of hunger and love you have for him, lips drifting to his cheek, and then down to his jaw. Your mouth opens of its own accord. Spencer lets a breath slip from him coloured with wanting, the most amorous sound he’s ever made under your hands as you kiss, and nip, and—
Your phone rings from the nightstand, a heavy, repetitive vibration.
“Ignore it,” you say easily, climbing up over Spencer’s lap, hand to the side of his face and rubbing tenderly.
“I was planning on it,” he says. He was shy at first, those first few kisses, but Spencer’s a person like any other and he squeezes your hips closer to his without further argument.
Your phone stops ringing a half a minute later. You smile into his mouth, even more when his fingers climb the length of your spine to slip playfully under the clasp of your bra. “How many tries do I get?” he asks.
You sit back just a touch to meet his charming gaze. “As many as you need, handsome… I’m very patient.”
He pulls you in to kiss your neck just as his phone begins to ring.
“It’s work,” he guesses, paused regretfully under your chin.
“We don’t know that.”
“That’s my ringtone for work.”
You breathe heavily atop him. “Can’t we be late?”
He smiles at you gently. “I’m sorry, angel. If we’re late again this week he might actually bite your head off.”
Things were so perfect. This was it, this was the moment you finally knew each other to the very core, and your stomach aches with how badly you want him. You're startled at the heat behind your eyes knowing it’s not gonna happen.
“Not tonight,” Spencer says, like he can read your mind. Maybe he’d been thinking a similar thing. “But soon, okay?”
You wrap your arms around his neck.
His phone stops ringing before he can catch it. Both of your phones ping with simultaneous text messages quickly afterward, before your ringtone begins again in earnest.
He leans graciously toward the nightstand, allowing you to continue hugging him while also answering the phone. “Hello?” you ask.
“Agent Hotchner’s calling you in.”
You press your nose to Spencer’s shoulder. “Okay. I have Dr. Reid with me too. Please stop calling, we’ll be there as soon as possible,” you say, flustered. You hang up quick.
Spencer pats your back with his fingers, palm flat to your shoulder, apparently the less gutted of the both of you at your missed moment. “Let me get you dressed, okay?” he says. “You’re too sulky. It wouldn’t have even been that good.”
“How rude.”
His teasing continues. “I’m serious. I haven’t been with anyone since that girl in Vegas–”
“What girl in Vegas?”
“–and anyways,” he says, tilting your head back, his smile both playful and adoring at once, “you shouldn’t have been on top.”
“Spencer,” you laugh, pressing your hand to your eyes.
“I have a head full of statistics on female pleasure and I don’t need them to know you should be laying down when we–”
You kiss him. “That’s enough,” you say, pressing the tips of your noses together. “I get the picture.” Your arm curled around his neck feels right, and you’re heartbroken to let it slink back to your side, but you do. “I love you. I wish we’d chosen different careers.”
“I love you, too, but I don’t. Then we never would’ve met,” he says simply.
You let out a happy breath. “I guess not.”
Spencer hoists you off of his lap in an impressive show of strength, but then he dumps you in the mess of sheets, which is less lovely. “What do you want to wear?” he asks, springing up, heading straight for his closet. “I pressed your pinstriped dress yesterday, that would look cute with your stockings. And you won’t need a jacket, it’s hotter out there than it is in here. Why are you looking at me like that? We literally don’t have time for this.”
You love him. You’re gonna rock his world when you get home. “The dress is fine.” You put your arms up in the air. “I’m waiting. And look! We’re half undressed already. How convenient.”
#spencer and bombshell reader#spencer reid#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid oneshot#spencer reid scenario#spencer reid drabble#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fanfiction#criminal minds
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Hypnotized
Lando Norris x hypnotherapist!Reader
Summary: in which Lando becomes intimately familiar with the professional (and not so professional) benefits of hypnosis
Warnings: 18+ content, dubious consent (though Lando is very much a willing participant), and temporary mindbreak
You lean back in your plush leather chair, taking a sip of tea as you look over the notes for your next client. Lando Norris — a rising star of Formula 1, seeking help to improve his performance on the track. You’ve worked with elite athletes before, but there’s something about this case that intrigues you.
The door opens and he strides in, radiating youthful confidence. “Ms. Y/L/N, thanks for seeing me on such short notice.”
“Please, have a seat Lando. And call me Y/N,” you reply with a warm smile. “I have to admit, when your team reached out, I was surprised. Most drivers come to me later in their careers when the mental side gets tougher.”
He settles onto the couch across from you. “Yeah, well, I’m a bit of an overachiever,” he grins cheekily. “I figure I should get every advantage I can while I’m young.”
You can’t help but be charmed by his boyish cockiness. “Fair enough. So, walk me through what’s bringing you here. What are you hoping hypnotherapy can do for you?”
Lando scratches his head, suddenly looking a bit sheepish. “To be honest, I’m not totally sure? The team psychologists have helped with some stuff like visualization and confidence building. But I feel like there’s still … I don’t know, another level I can’t quite tap into?”
He pauses, cheeks reddening slightly. “I may have also heard some … rumors about hypnosis helping drivers get, uh, in the zone in a different way.”
You raise an eyebrow at that. “I see. And what sort of zone were you hoping to reach exactly?”
“Just, you know, being totally focused. Primed to perform at my absolute peak,” he answers quickly, not meeting your eyes. “Eliminate any lingering doubts or hesitation.”
“Mmmhmm,” you murmur, watching his fidgeting increase. It’s clear there’s more to this, perhaps some adolescent fantasy driven by locker room talk. You decide to have a bit of fun drawing it out.
“Well, maximum focus and confidence under extreme stress is certainly one of the primary benefits of hypnotherapy for athletes. Though of course, there can be … other effects depending on the suggestions given.”
Lando’s eyes flick up to meet yours, pupils dilating with obvious intrigue. “Other effects? Like what?”
You shrug lightly. “Oh, lowered inhibition, increased susceptibility to instructions, compulsions to obey ...” You trail off, letting the implications hang in the air. “But I’m sure whatever rumors you’ve heard are just overblown exaggerations.”
His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows hard. “R-right, of course. So, uh, how would we go about getting me in that totally focused zone?”
You can scarcely suppress a grin — he’s hooked now, curiosity and hormones getting the better of him. “Well, first we’d need to get you in a deeply relaxed state, open and receptive to suggestions. I’d start with some deep breathing exercises, maybe have you focus on the sound of my voice ...”
Unconsciously, Lando’s eyelids grow heavier as you speak in a low, soothing tone. “Breath slowly deepening, muscles going deliciously loose and limp ...”
He blinks hard, shaking his head minutely. “Sorry, what was I saying?”
“Don’t worry,” you assure him. “A little taste of just how quickly you might respond. Hypnotic states can sneak up quite easily when you’re not prepared for them.”
Lando swallows again, but there’s no hiding the interest smoldering in his eyes now. “That’s … good to know. So, uh, once I was in this state, what sort of suggestions would you give?”
You lean forward, holding his gaze. “Anything you need, darling. Perhaps prompts to fill your mind with dizzying focus — a white hot, all-consuming need to push every limit and achieve perfection. Or maybe something to strip away distractions and doubts, leaving you deliciously pliant and desperate to follow instructions without hesitation ...”
His breath catches as ripples of arousal play across his features. You’ve dangled the bait thoroughly now, time to reel him in.
“Of course, that’s all just theoretical for an athlete like you,” you continue lightly. “I’m sure you’d only want suggestions tailored for pure professional benefit.”
Lando opens his mouth, then closes it, visibly wrestling with indecision. Finally, he sits up straight, jaw setting in boyish determination.
“Actually … I think maybe exploring some of those other effects could be useful too. You know, for full preparation.”
You bite back a smile — he’s all bravado again, feigning nonchalance. How delicious.
“Well, if you’re certain. We should probably start with a simple induction and suggestion, see how you respond.”
Rising from your chair, you cross the room to where he sits, movements slow and deliberate. Lando’s eyes are immediately drawn to the sway of your hips, the rapid rise and fall of his chest betraying his arousal.
“Just relax and look into my eyes ...” you murmur, voice dropping an octave as you hold up a pendant and begin tracing figure eights before his face. “Let your mind follow the path of the pendulum, breathing slowly … in and out ...”
His pupils blown wide, Lando is soon leaning back bonelessly, mouth slightly ajar. A few dazed blinks is all the resistance he offers as you trail featherlight touches down his arm.
“There’s a good boy … nice and open, isn’t it? Let everything else fall away except the need to please me.”
A shudder wracks his frame and you can see the tendons in his neck straining, fighting the compulsion already worming into his psyche. But his eyes remain locked on yours, drowning in your control.
“I … I want to ...” he stammers helplessly.
“Shhhh,” you soothe, bending closer so that your lips nearly brush his ear. “You don’t need to worry about what you want anymore. That’s my choice now, understood?”
He gives a tiny nod and you feel a surge of heady power.
“Such a good boy. And to reward your obedience, you’re going to take off your shirt. Slowly ...”
There’s a moment of tension, then Lando raises trembling hands to grasp the hem of his shirt. You can see the mottled flush spreading across his torso as inch by inch it’s revealed to you. His breath is coming in ragged pants by the time the shirt drops to the floor, chest heaving with mingled want and shame.
“Very nice,” you practically purr. “I can see you’re already feeling the compulsions seeping in. Should we make them … deeper?”
His head bobs dumbly and you laugh, low and throaty.
“That’s what I thought. Now, lay back for me ...”
Lando immediately obeys, body going pliant and helpless. You pull over an ottoman, sitting so you can gently straddle his hips, relishing the hitch in his breath as your heat settles against him.
“You’re going to do absolutely everything I say without hesitation or doubt,” you whisper harshly, watching him shudder. “Any instructions, no matter what they may be, you’ll follow with desperate enthusiasm.”
He whimpers, hips twitching upwards in mute plea. Grasping his jaw firmly, you force his eyes to yours.
“This is for your own good, darling. We need to burn away every last shred of selfishness and pride so you can ascend to true, shattering focus. You understand, don’t you?”
“Y-yes … yes,” he slurs, already sinking deeper into degrading bliss.
You reward him with a slow, filthy grind of your hips and he cries out unabashedly. Everywhere your hands and mouth worship his skin, you can feel the tremors of arousal and surrender.
“That’s perfect,” you murmur against the hollow of his throat. “Now, I want you to strip the rest of the way ...”
Before the words have fully left your lips, Lando is frantically shucking his pants and boxers, whining as his flushed length bobs free. The brazen lust and need in his hooded eyes would be shocking from the bashful newbie you met earlier.
You give an approving hum, thrilling at how quickly your control has already remade him. One fingernail traces along rigid flesh and he bucks shamelessly into your touch.
“You’re being such a good boy. I think it’s time we really sealed this new role into your head. Imagine the most dizzying, overwhelming orgasm you’ve ever had, multiplied a hundredfold ...”
His eyes roll back, mouth open in a silent wail at just the suggestion. You grip him firmly, relishing the desperate whine that bursts from his lips.
“You’re going to come like that, harder than you ever dreamed. And as the lightning arcs of bliss engulf your entire being, all that pleasure will become inextricably entwined with an overwhelming need to obey my every whim ...”
Lando is panting and keening, hips pumping up into your tight fist. You can feel his body straining closer to that precipice, cords of muscle standing out in sharp relief. With a final brutal stroke, you growl the trigger words,
“Come for me, love!”
His back bows in a silent scream, mouth frozen in rapturous torment. You gentle him through each shuddering pulse, ensuring every layer of consciousness is saturated with soul-shattering ecstasy and the new compulsions you’ve locked within.
At last, he sags back to the couch, eyes glassy and unfocused. You bend close, lips caressing the damp hair at his temple.
“Tell me, darling, how does it feel to be remade into perfection?”
He blinks slowly, lips curving in a blissful smile. “I … I need to obey ...” he slurs dozily. “Please … use me however you desire ...”
You chuckle darkly, letting nails rake over his sensitized flesh and making him buck weakly. “Oh I will, lover. I’m going to take you to shattering new heights of surrender. You won’t be able to so much as enter the cockpit without shuddering need to please me foremost in your mind ...”
His only response is a quiet whimper, eyes already slipping shut in sated exhaustion, completely yours to reshape however you wish.
You settle back, excitement thrilling through you at all the delicious possibilities stretching ahead.
***
The roar of the crowd is deafening as you make your way through the paddock area towards the McLaren motorhome at the British Grand Prix. Fans press eagerly against the barriers lining the path, craning for a glimpse of their racing idols as they’re escorted by burly security guards.
You keep your head held high, unruffled by the frenzy of flashing cameras and shouted requests for autographs as you stride confidently alongside Lando.
He casts you a sidelong glance, the excited energy thrumming off him in waves. “Thanks for being here, Y/N,” he murmurs with a small, bashful smile. “Having you in my corner calms my nerves a bit.”
You reach out to give his arm a reassuring squeeze, warmth blooming in your chest. “Of course, there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.” Your voice takes on a slightly teasing lilt as you add, “Besides, this way I can provide my … specialized services should you require them before the race.”
A dusky flush steals across Lando’s cheeks at your words, his eyes darkening in a way that sends a curl of heat unfurling low in your belly. Before he can respond, one of the crew members is ushering you both towards a nondescript door.
With a nod of thanks, Lando pushes through the door, allowing you to enter the modestly appointed room first before following and securing it behind you.
The space is small yet functional — equipped with a well-worn sofa situated before a large television displaying timing data, along with an armchair tucked into the corner. Your gaze lands on the single bed shoved against the far wall and you suddenly find it difficult to swallow around the lump in your throat.
“Sorry about the mess,” Lando says almost sheepishly, running a hand through his chestnut locks. “I haven’t exactly had much time to tidy up.”
“Don’t worry about it,” you murmur distractedly, already hyper-aware of the thick tension charging the air between your bodies, crackling like a livewire in the small distance separating you.
Lando opens his mouth as if to speak, then seems to think better of it, shuffling his feet almost bashfully. You can practically see the thoughts whirring at a million miles an hour behind his furrowed brow, weighing him down as nerves and doubts threaten to shatter his hard-won focus.
Without a word, you close the distance between you, cradling his face in your hands to force him to meet your gaze.
“Let me help you,” you breathe, your voice low and gentle yet laced with that commanding tone he can never seem to resist.
He immediately melts into your touch, the taut lines of stress slowly easing from his features. “Please,” he whispers back, every inch of nervous energy and kinetic vibration seeming to melt from his body as your thumbs trace soothing patterns across the sharp planes of his cheekbones. “Need you to clear my mind.”
A soft, fond smile curves your lips at the naked entreaty in his tone. This man — so cocky and confident in most aspects of life, yet so unguarded and sweetly vulnerable when it’s just the two of you.
You continue your tender ministrations, watching in rapt fascination as his eyes drift shut and his breathing grows steady and even. When you finally speak, your words are low and hypnotic, the timbre of your voice wrapping around Lando like a warm blanket ushering him down, down into delicious oblivion.
“That’s it, darling … let yourself sink deeper with each breath. Shut out all the noise and distractions — everything except my voice guiding you. Focus on the rise and fall of your chest, the gentle thump of your heartbeat … allow your body to grow heavy and pliant as you let me take the lead ...”
He shivers slightly, yielding fully to your hypnotic trance with a soft, contented exhalation. In this blissed-out state, his features are lax and utterly at peace, the hard lines of tension and worry melting away until he looks almost cherubic.
“There you are,” you can’t help but murmur in approval, trailing your fingertips along the sharp line of his jaw. “So perfect and calm for me.” Your gaze rakes over the long fans of his lashes fanning across his cheekbones, the full pout of his lips parted ever so slightly on deep, even breaths. He looks utterly debauched, despite the fact that you’ve barely even touched him yet.
Unable to resist such temptation any longer, you bend to capture Lando’s lips in a slow kiss — gentle at first, then deepening into something more heated, more ravenous as your tongue sweeps into the heat of his mouth to tangle with his own.
He remains completely pliant beneath your wandering hands and questing mouth, body thrumming with blissful surrender as you map every lush inch of him.
Finally, breathless and flushed, you tear your mouth from his with a soft groan of regret. “God, darling … what you do to me ...” you murmur, trailing hot, openmouthed kisses along the stubbled line of his jaw, down the taut cords of his neck. “Just seeing you like this, so gorgeous and willing … falling so deep for me … I could take you right here like this and you’d let me, wouldn’t you?”
You scrape your teeth over that sensitive patch of skin just below his ear and he trembles almost violently, a low whine spilling past his lips even as his head lolls back to allow you better access. When you press an openmouthed kiss to his wildly fluttering pulse point, his voice comes out low and syrupy sweet.
“Please, Y/N … please ...” he slurs in a breathy exhale, body arching reflexively into yours as his hands come up to clutch at your hips in a silent entreaty.
A frisson of lust races down your spine at his wanton plea, stoking the simmering ember of arousal into a roaring blaze. How quickly his mind has slipped into a glorious, aching haze of want and need for your touch.
You could so easily press your advantage right now — undress him with exquisite slowness, bend him over and take him in delirious new ways that would leave him utterly incoherent. The mental images alone are nearly enough to make you growl in feral possessiveness.
Somehow, you manage to retain a herculean thread of control, nuzzling against the heated skin of Lando’s neck as you press him gently yet insistently towards the bed until the backs of his thighs hit the mattress and he sinks onto the soft cotton sheets with a dazed exhale. His eyes are molten embers burning with naked want and trust as he gazes up at you, outright trembling with the effort of holding himself back from hauling you down on top of him.
Gently brushing a stray lock of hair from his brow, you settle yourself to straddle his lap, reveling in the delicious points of heated skin against skin where your bodies make contact through the thin barrier of your clothing. For an aching span of heartbeats, you drink in the sight of him — kiss-swollen lips parted on shallow pants, the tempting vee of his open shirt collar exposing just a tantalizing sliver of his smooth chest, hard planes of muscle rippling beneath tanned skin as he quivers with ill-restrained desire.
“Beautiful,” you husk in a low rasp, summoning every ounce of your rapidly waning willpower to force the words past the molten heat in your throat. “You are so fucking beautiful like this.”
Lando swallows thickly at the unadulterated lust and reverence saturating your tone, his throat bobbing convulsively. “You … you should see yourself,” he finally manages in a strained murmur. “You’re a goddess ...” His hands come up of their own volition to splay across the supple curves of your waist, tracing searing paths across your skin as if to memorize every lush dip and swell.
A throaty chuckle escapes you as you lean into his touch in shameless encouragement. “I could devour you in this moment and I’d still crave more.” Dipping your head to drag openmouthed kisses along the salty-sweet skin of his collarbone, you muse heatedly, “In fact, I’m tempted to lock that door and have you right here like the decadent treat you are.”
“God, yes ...” Lando outright groans at your words, hips arching up in a desperate, instinctual grind against yours that leaves you both shuddering at the sudden, intoxicating friction. His fingers curl into the soft flesh of your hips, pupil-blown eyes full of unrestrained need as he gazes up at you like you’re the answer to his every secret desire. “Please, Y/N … anything, just … need you.”
The reverent, naked pleading in his voice steals the breath from your lungs and you’re abruptly reminded of the singular responsibility you have — not just as his lover, but as the person he’s entrusted to guide and ground him when he’s spiraling.
Your mouth curves into an indulgent smile as you tenderly cradle his face in your palms, tapping into that core of composure and peace that helps tether you both in moments like this.
“In due time, my love,” you murmur, leaning in to pepper slow, lingering kisses across his brow, along the delicate skin beneath his eyes. You feel Lando physically sink back against the mattress with a soft exhalation as your tender ministrations lull him once more into a state of relaxation and receptivity — his mind clearing of everything but blissful focus on you and your touch.
“Remember why you’re here, and all the hard work that brought you to this moment,” you continue in a low, soothing murmur against his flushed skin. “You’ve poured your heart and soul into this dream, and now it’s time to reap the sweet fruit of your efforts. Leave behind all the doubts, all the fear and anxious energy that’s been holding you back.” Arching up on your knees, you gently resettle your weight so you’re seated flush against his core, waves of heat radiating between your joined bodies in delicious waves with every motion and shallow breath.
“Let go of everything but my voice, my touch grounding you in this moment. This is your destiny, Lando — all you have to do is embrace it.” With your final murmured words, you seal the sentiment by slanting your mouth over his in a filthy, openmouthed kiss that quickly descends into pure, unbridled passion as he releases an unrestrained keen of surrender.
His arms come up to band around your waist, clutching you impossibly closer as if to merge your very beings into one searing point of euphoric light. You lose yourselves in the wet slide of tongue and teeth and racing heartbeats until the buzzing of Lando’s phone against the nearby nightstand finally jolts you from your haze of lust and need. For a suspended beat, you simply drink in the sight of him — debauched and beautifully wrecked in the best way possible, with slick lips parted around panting breaths and hair tousled in a riotous mess.
“Time?” Lando finally rasps, sounding as utterly gutted as you feel.
You force yourself to glance at the glowing numbers on his phone screen, steeling yourself against the surge of regret at having to end this delicious interlude. “Twenty minutes until you need to be in the garage,” you confirm with a heavy exhale.
With a low groan that goes straight to your core, Lando surges up to slant his mouth hungrily over yours once more in one last kiss goodbye before allowing you to carefully extract yourself from his lap. You both take a few moments to catch your breath and restore some semblance of outward composure, though your insides continue to feel like a lit match in a patch of dry tinder.
“Ready for this?” You arch a pointed brow at Lando as he pushes off the bed to put on his fireproofs and race suit with admirably steady hands, given how thoroughly unwound he had been mere moments ago.
He flashes you his trademark grin — though this time it holds an air of supreme confidence and purpose that sends a thrill racing down your spine. “Like you said … this is my destiny.” Pulling you close with one hand at the small of your back, he dips his head to murmur gratefully against your lips, “And you helped me find it today.”
With one final kiss that leaves you lightheaded, Lando turns to grab his water bottle and heads towards the door, every bit the consummate professional buckling down to handle the job at hand. You watch him go with a tender smile playing across your lips, filled with an irrational surge of pride at how far he’s come.
A few hours later, you’re holding your breath in the garage as Lando’s MCL38 comes screaming around the final turn and over the finish line — the checkered flag signaling his maiden victory at long last. From on top the podium, his elated gaze immediately finds yours through the throngs of people and hoisted champagne bottles.
The smile he bestows is so private and full of promise that warmth blossoms in your chest and your skin tingles deliciously in anticipation.
After the celebrations and press obligations have wound down, Lando nearly sprints off the track and back into the paddock area, lifting you clean off your feet in a tight embrace when he reaches you. His lips move feverishly against your own, words tumbling out in a reverent exhale barely audible over the noise of the crowd.
“Thank you, thank you … I couldn’t have done it without you. God, I love you so much ...”
And in that perfect moment — drunk on the roar of the crowd, the giddy thrill of victory, and the smoldering promise in the depths of Lando’s eyes — you’re already mentally preparing to give him the most mind-blowing reward imaginable.
***
The champagne is still buzzing through your veins, lending an extra fizz of exhilaration to the crackling charge in the air as you hastily key into your hotel suite hand-in-hand with Lando.
No sooner has the door clicked shut behind you than he’s on you in a searing tangle of heat and desire — mouth hot and insistent, fingers skating across every bare inch of exposed skin as if he’s a man dying of thirst and you’re the last oasis for miles.
“Fuck, Y/N ...” he rasps reverently against the fevered skin of your neck, pressing a hot, openmouthed kiss to your wildly fluttering pulse. “You’re incredible, so bloody perfect.” His hands roam hungrily, deftly stripping you of layer upon layer of clothing until you’re left deliciously bare before his molten gaze. “Let me worship you properly, yeah? God knows you deserve it after today.”
A tremor of need races through you at his naked desire, amplified tenfold by the molten timbre of Lando’s rough, lust-thickened voice. Without breaking eye contact, you hook your fingers through his belt loops and begin walking him back towards the lavish bedroom, relishing the sharp inhale he sucks through his teeth at your commanding confidence.
There’s a practiced, sensual arch to your spine as you work the tails of his crisp button-down free from the waistband of his trousers, taking your sweet time to pop each individual button until the smooth, tanned expanse of his torso is laid bare.
Warm fingertips trail an achingly slow path up the defined ridges of his abdomen as you drink in the sight of him — pupils blown wide with barely restrained want and that delicious lower lip caught between his teeth as his chest rises and falls with shallow stuttering pants.
“Is this what you want, darling?” You murmur silkily, palming him through the rapidly tenting fabric of his pants and delighting in the strangled whine that punches from his lips at the contact. His hands fly up to clutch convulsively at your hips, gripping with bruising force as if you’re his only lifeline in a raging sea of lust and sensation.
“Yes … please,” he forces out on a ragged exhale, body practically thrumming with desperation as you continue to work him with languid strokes while rocking your hips in a slow, sensual grind against his throbbing need.
The headiness of having this confident man quivering and needy at your touch sends a heady surge of possessive satisfaction coursing through you.
“Well, since you asked so nicely ...”
With a decadent hum, you deftly pop the button of Lando’s pants and drag the zipper down in one smooth motion, allowing his rigid cock to spring free at last, flushed and straining obscenely. You swipe your thumb through the pearlescent bead of precome gathered at the swollen tip, making his hips judder with desperate rolls at the stimulation.
“Y/N … fuck, I need … need your mouth ...” Lando grits out, tangling his fingers in your hair with a barely restrained growl.
You can’t help the low, sultry chuckle that spills past your lips at his feverish plea. “So impatient,” you tut, even as you sink gracefully to your knees before him, trailing openmouthed kisses along the hard ridges of his abdomen. “But you’ve been such a good boy for me lately, I suppose I can reward you.”
Another punched-out curse fractures the air as Lando’s head tips back on a low groan at the first hot lick of your tongue up the length of his rigid shaft. You take your sweet time working him over until his entire body is trembling with the effort of holding himself in check, fingers clenched white-knuckle tight in your hair.
“Look at you, so pretty for me,” you purr at him from beneath your lashes. “I wonder how quickly I could have you coming apart completely on my tongue.”
A broken, desperate whine escapes Lando at your words. “Fuck … I’m not gonna last,” he warns through gritted teeth.
With a final swirl of your tongue around the swollen crown of him, you pull off with a lush, obscene pop. “Don’t you dare hold back for me,” you murmur, voice dripping wanton sin as you tighten your grip at the base of his throbbing length to stave off the mounting waves of his building release. “I want to taste every … last … drop.”
The broken whine that tears itself from Lando’s throat quickly warps into a strangled shout of ecstasy as you hollow your cheeks and sink back down to take his aching cock as far as you can. He outright sobs your name over and over as you relentlessly work him undone with hollowed cheeks and swirls of your talented tongue — at this point he’s putty in your hands, helpless to do anything other than clutch at you and shatter apart.
You pull back with a filthy, slurping noise just as the first hot ropes of milky white spurt from his slit, painting your tongue and lips with thick, viscous streaks. A guttural groan rumbles up from his chest at the shamelessly lewd sight, cock giving one final twitch against your lips as you swallow greedily, lapping and sucking every musky drop from his overstimulated flesh.
His knees nearly buckle at the over-the-top eroticism of it all, hands knotting tighter in your hair as if the grounding points of contact are all that’s keeping him anchored to this mortal plane.
Only once you’ve thoroughly wrung him dry with your mouth and tongue do you sit back on your heels, swiping the back of your hand across your swollen, well-used lips to clean away the remnant beads of his climax. Each breath Lando sucks into his heaving lungs is like molten fire in his tortured chest, his pupils still dilated as he gazes down in awe and not a small amount of reverence at where you’re tucked so demurely between his parted thighs.
“Bloody fucking hell, love,” he rasps around a breathy, disbelieving puff of laughter. “C’mere, lemme return the favor … I need to taste you in the worst way.”
His words go straight to your rapidly tightening core, sending a fresh gush of slick arousal pooling between your thighs. You allow him to haul you up by your elbows and press you into the plush mattress, surrendering to his hot, open-mouthed kisses and seeking hands as he divests you completely of your last shreds of clothing.
When his tongue finally finds your drenched center, you keen high and helpless in the back of your throat. “Oh god, Lando … yes, just like that ...”
Lando answers your breathless encouragement by burying his tongue deeper into your grasping heat with a satisfied groan. The wildly intimate stretch and stimulation of his clever licks and kitten flicks against your swollen bud quickly has you squirming and thrashing against the mattress in a glorious, overstimulated daze.
All you can do is pant and whimper encouragements, fingers tangling unconsciously in his thick chestnut locks as you rock yourself shamelessly into his mouth.
Just when you think the maddening coil of ecstasy winding tighter and tighter deep in your core can’t possibly grow any tighter, Lando slips two long fingers inside your slick, fluttering entrance with a guttural groan of satisfaction. The fullness of the dual sensations instantly has you seizing up all over, back arching off the bed as he works you over with sure, steady strokes.
“Oh fuck, fuck me … Lando, you feel … so g-good, ungh!” The inarticulate stream of praise and curses rapidly devolves into broken moans as he relentlessly pistons his fingers in and out, strumming insistently against that spongy cluster of nerves with each punishing thrust. You’re quickly rendered mindless, nothing but a writhing, desperate bundle of raw need and want with every nerve alight at his exquisite touch.
When Lando’s lips finally close over your pulsing clit and suckle hard, your entire world shatters into stardust with the force of your climax. A hoarse shout rips from deep in your chest as the coil within you finally detonates in waves of dizzying, toe-curling pleasure that seem to go on and on and on. Lando works you through it all with his plush mouth and tireless fingers, lapping up the honeyed rush of your release like a man dying of thirst.
For several long, blissful moments, the only sounds are your mingled gasps and pants for air as you float hazily down from your high. Lando’s lips trail scorching paths along the inside of your trembling thighs, nuzzling and nipping at sensitive flesh before finally lifting his head to grace you with that familiar adoring look that never fails to make your heartbeat trip.
“Look at the mess you’ve made, love,” he drags his index finger through the slick mess coating his chin and lips. With a blatantly filthy leer that sends a shiver of fresh arousal cascading down your spine, he slips the digit into his mouth and sucks it clean with a rumbling groan of satisfaction. “Delicious.”
You’re still totally wrecked and incoherent from your release, every nerve in your body humming and jangling in the aftermath like overstimulated livewires. A punched-out moan manages to escape you at his brazen obscenity as your hips lift off the bed in an instinctual, needful grind. “Inside me. Need y-you inside ...”
Lando rises over you in one fluid, graceful motion, hips slotting effortlessly between your splayed thighs as he brackets your face between his large palms, drinking you in hungrily. “God, look at you — you’re fucking glorious like this, wrecked and desperate for me,” he murmurs in a low rasp, cock dragging slickly through your sopping folds to nudge insistently at your entrance. “How do you do this to me, huh? Break me apart so effortlessly then have me begging on my knees for more of you ...”
With that, he bottoms out in one smooth, torturous glide — the exquisite, familiar fullness stealing your breath and sending stars bursting across your vision at the electrifying feeling of being stuffed so deliciously deep. You wrap your legs high around his taut waist, ankles locking needfully as you roll your hips in frantic little circles seeking any kind of friction.
“Oh god, Lando … move, please … need you to move, it hurts so fucking good ...”
He answers your pleading moans with a soul-scorching kiss, lips and tongue consuming you in delicious, velvet heat as he sets a ruthless, punishing pace, spearing into your clenching depths with all the force and stamina that makes him such a world-class athlete. You match him thrust for thrust, your cries swallowed by his plundering mouth as the delicious drag and slap of skin against skin fills your senses.
“I’ll never get enough,” Lando grits out between breathy curses. His teeth find purchase at the dip of your neck, sending a starburst of sensation and pain across your sensitized nerves that only compounds the haze of carnal bliss wrapping you in its searing embrace. “Could spend my life buried inside you like this and it still wouldn’t be long enough ...”
His words ignite something feral, darkly possessive in your core, an echoing howl of belonging and ownership that it feels like you’ve been careening towards since the very first time he surrendered to you in trance. With a carnal growl, you hook your ankles tighter, using your legs to flip Lando onto his back as you rise up to straddle his hips.
His eyes go comically wide before he’s grinding up into you with a gasp, grasping your hips hard enough to bruise as you set a punishing new rhythm.
“Say it again … tell me who you belong to.” Your voice is hoarse, burnished in equal parts wanton need and flinty command — you don’t care which one makes him shatter apart at the seams so long as he answers your order.
Lando immediately locks eyes with yours, gaze fever-bright and seeming to pierce straight into your very soul as he clamps his hands around your throat with delicious pressure. “You,” he groans without hesitation, the pads of his fingers flexing as your pulse throbs wildly beneath his touch. “You own me, down to my bloody bones.”
The reverent oath sends a surge of lust and possession searing through your bloodstream, stoking the incandescent heat pooling low in your belly to fever pitch once more. Your hips move in wild rolls, desperate and ragged as you ride him with reckless abandon. Lando keeps one hand locked at the juncture of your throat while the other skates up your side to palm your breast, rolling the peaked tip between calloused fingers.
“I can feel you getting close already, look at you … my perfect, filthy girl throwing herself at me like she needs nothing else but my cock splitting her apart,” he growls gutturally, his words and the punishing rhythm growing more and more erratic as your combined pleasure crests higher and higher.
Quite suddenly, Lando hooks his feet against the mattress and surges up to capture your lips in a sweltering, soul-devouring kiss as his hips somehow piston even faster into your desperately clenching depths. His name fractures and shatters around the seal of your kiss as your entire world liquefies into ribbons of rapture, ecstasy blotting out all coherent thought until every last shred of tension and want finally implodes in a supernova behind your navel.
Lando gasps against your lips as your release floods him, thick and scorching hot — wave after wave milking the most intense convulsions from his straining cock as his own orgasm shatters loose. You rock together through the shared obliteration of your mutual bliss until there’s nothing left but the gentle lapping of aftershocks and Lando’s thumb stroking idly along the racing pulse at the hollow of your throat.
When you finally manage to crack your eyes and focus on the beautiful wreck of a man sprawled boneless beneath you, the look of besotten awe on his features nearly takes your breath away all over again. Then his rueful chuckle rumbles up from deep in his chest, melting away the last smoldering embers of tension as he brushes a stray lock of damp hair back from your brow.
“What on earth am I going to do with you, love?” He murmurs, the hint of a smirk toying at the corner of his lips. “Now I’m permanently addicted.” He presses a lingering, searing kiss to your swollen mouth before pulling back to rest his forehead against yours. “Though I suppose there are worse fates.”
You answer his sentiment with a breathless chuckle of your own, tracing the lines of his face in an achingly tender caress as the last lingering flickers of passion slowly ebb and flow into deep, drowsy contentment. “Such are the spoils of victory,” you breathe fondly. “Though I suppose I should thank you for being such an … enthusiastic participant.”
“Mmm, I think I can manage that.” His eyes slip closed as he winds his arms around you to roll until you’re flush atop his chest, every supple inch of heated skin against skin and your legs tangled together in a sprawl. “You’ve ruined me,” he murmurs softly, reverently against your hair. “And I’ve never been more grateful for anything in my life.”
You hum serenely in agreement, nestling impossibly closer as Lando’s breathing evens out and you both begin to drift into a dozy haze of sated bliss. The warm, hypnotic lull of his heartbeat against your cheek and the delicious ache of well-used muscles is pure nirvana.
In this moment, suspended in time in the afterglow, you can scarcely fathom how you ever existed before Lando barreled into your life and ignited this intoxicating flame of desire, devotion, and bone-deep belonging between you.
His voice, already rough and worn velvet from your passionate exertions, breaks the contented silence once more as he nuzzles against your temple. “Stay with me tonight? God knows I could use a few more hours with you in my arms before we have to brave the real world again.”
A languid smile curves your lips at his soft plea, warmth blooming in your chest. “As if you even need to ask,” you murmur, punctuating the sentiment with a tender brush of your lips across the thundering pulse at the base of his throat. “I’m yours, remember? Any time and any place you’ll have me.”
Lando doesn’t respond further, simply tightens his arm around your waist as he hooks his chin over your head with a low, satisfied rumble.
With his name a breathless vow on your lips, you allow the bone-deep weariness of pure satisfaction to finally pull you under into peaceful oblivion beside the only man who will ever hold the keys to unraveling you so completely in return.
***
The pale moonlight filters through the gauzy curtains of Lando’s posh London flat, casting everything in an ethereal blue-silver glow as you burrow deeper into the plush duvet.
A lazy, spent sort of satisfaction permeates the air in the wake of your earlier lovemaking — though honestly, is there ever a time when you don’t feel utterly cherished and deliciously sated these days?
Lando’s arm is a warm, heavy brand across your waist, the solid plane of his chest pressed flush against your back. You can sense the steady thrum of his heartbeat mellowing into the deep, even cadence of slumber and make to slip out of his embrace, eager to make use of the en-suite facilities. But the moment you shift, his arm reflexively tightens, drawing you impossibly closer as he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck with a low, sleepy noise of protest.
“Mmm … stay,” he mumbles groggily against your skin, voice still rough and sweetly wrecked from the way you had him crying out your name mere hours ago.
You huff a quiet laugh at his drowsy insistence, nosing affectionately at his tousled curls. “I’ll be right back, you insatiable thing,” you rasp, carefully extracting yourself from his octopus-like clutches to plant a lingering kiss to his slack, pillow-creased cheek. “Promise I’m not going anywhere without you.”
Lando grumbles something indistinct but doesn’t protest further, already slipping back into the lull of sleep with a final contented sigh muffled against the plush bedding. You take a moment to simply drink in the sight of him sprawled out so unguardedly – all toned muscle and tousled chestnut curls, the crisp white sheets tangling artfully around his hips to offer tempting peeks of tanned skin and lean, powerful thighs.
He’s gorgeous like this, you muse with a soft smile, feeling that oh-so-familiar spark of possessive want begin to simmer low in your belly. A dizzying rush of affection and belonging surges through you as your gaze rakes over the starburst of reddened lovebites peppering his throat and shoulders from where you marked him as yours so enthusiastically earlier.
It’s hard to fathom that there was ever a time you considered your life remotely complete before Lando and his smoldering passion whirlwinded into your world.
Still, you force yourself to tear your eyes away from the alluring scene with a steadying breath, retreating to the en-suite with the promise to return hanging unspoken between you.
By the time you’ve padded back into the bedroom wrapped in one of Lando’s obscenely soft bathrobes, he’s shifted to sprawl across the centerline of the mattress, face half-buried in his pillow and one hand flung haphazardly above his head. The rakish sprawl of bedsheets and moonlight across his sculpted form renders him a vision of absolute debauchery and desire — not that you’d have him any other way.
You can’t resist ghosting your fingers in a featherlight caress along the hard ridges of his spine and the lean cords of muscle defining his broad shoulders, relishing the shiver that chases itself visibly across his skin. “You awake, darling?”
Lando grunts an affirmation, languidly cracking one eye to regard you through the tangled fringe of lashes fanning across his cheekbones. There’s a hint of wry amusement laced through the rough velvet of his voice when he speaks. “Was starting to worry you’d wandered off again without me.”
“Never,” you reply instantly, warmth threading through the simple avowal. Moving to settle in the vee of his splayed thighs, you trail a meandering path of openmouthed kisses along his lower back, nosing aside the rumpled sheet to expose the swell of his ass with deliberate intent. “You know I’m defenseless against this gorgeous body of yours.”
A low, approving rumble vibrates up from Lando’s chest at your blatant appreciation, his hips giving an unconscious, languid roll as your lips brush across the dimples at the base of his spine in a teasing caress. But then, quite suddenly, the boneless sprawl of his limbs seems to tense as a perceptible aura of hesitance permeates the desire charging the air between you.
You immediately feel the subtle shift in his energy, that jarring note of dissonance plucking disquietingly at your intuitive senses — the same ones that have always allowed you to tune into the deepest vibrations of the soul with preternatural clarity. Without pause, you abandon your sensual exploration of his body to settle beside him once more, cradling the sharp line of his jaw in your palm and wordlessly coaxing him to turn and meet your gaze.
“Hey … talk to me, love,” you murmur, the soothing tone of your voice blanketing the sharp edged undercurrent of uncertainty in its rich, soothing folds. “Where’d you go just now?”
Lando exhales a soft, humorless puff of breath, worrying his plush lower lip between his teeth in that adorable yet concerning tell of his whenever something is weighing on that mind.
For a long stretch, he studies your features in silence, the only sounds in the room the ambient thrum of the city beyond the flat’s walls and the occasional muted honk of a passing car in the night below. Just when you’re about to prompt him again, the words finally tumble out in a low, slightly self-conscious rush.
“You … you don’t take on other clients like me, do you?” You feel him tense further under your palm, discomfited energy practically vibrating off him in waves. “Not that I’m judging, honest! It’s none of my business what you do or who you see for work, but I just ...” He breaks off on a frustrated exhale, jaw ticking in that way that tells you he’s holding back a tidal wave of emotion beneath his placid surface.
A dawning realization begins to unfurl in your chest, intimately familiar with the root of Lando’s inner turmoil. This brilliant, sensitive, achingly beautiful man — the force on the racetrack who melts into the most sweetly vulnerable creature behind closed doors whenever you bestow him with the full force of your focused attention. Of course he would crave that intensity of focus, that promise of belonging solely to him in your most intimate embraces, no matter how irrational or paradoxical the notion seems from the outside looking in.
Slowly, carefully, you reach up to frame that beloved face between your palms, silently urging Lando to hold your unwavering gaze as the words he needs to hear spill forth in a low, resonant murmur.
“Do you remember when this first started between us? How completely you surrendered yourself to me in the most profound way?” You begin, watching his pupils slowly dilate and a nearly imperceptible tension begin to unwind from his shoulders at the timbre of your voice. “The absolute trust it takes to let someone delve that deep into the most sacred corners of your psyche … to share your fears, insecurities, and unvarnished essence without artifice?”
Lando swallows thickly, nodding once in a jerky affirmation as the words seem to bypass his conscious mind and resonate somewhere deeper. You card your fingers soothingly through his disheveled curls, allowing your touch to lull and ground him as you continue in that same low, hypnotic cadence.
“That depth of surrender and connection is not something that can simply be replicated or transposed onto others, Lando. What we have is singular. Untouchable.” You press your forehead to his, registering the faint hitch in his breath as you drink in every last nuance of his features. “My gift has always been to help unravel the truths someone tries to bury, follow the threads that tether the conscious mind to something vaster and more primal. But with you ...”
A low exhale ghosts across his parted lips as your thumb traces the sharp line of his cheekbone in an achingly tender caress. “With you, it was as if the universe aligned to allow me to shed every last shred of protection and pretense until there was nothing left but the purest vibration of my very essence resonating in time with yours. Do you understand?”
Lando’s gaze is a hazy swirl of naked emotion and trust, drinking in your every syllable with the desperate reverence of a man being offered the world’s greatest truth. “Like … like the truest version of ourselves was always there, simply waiting to recognize its other half,” he rasps, the words seeming to bypass his conscious faculties entirely as he remains held captive in the depths of your connection. “Two souls spilling into one another.”
“Precisely.” Your lips curve in the ghost of a smile, a bone-deep sense of belonging and contentment settling over you both like a well-worn hug. “In that moment, you became an inextricable part of me, and I of you. Something that profound doesn’t simply … vanish, or dim, or lessen with time and distance.”
You allow the weighted truth of your decree to resonate between your joined bodies for a suspended heartbeat, cradling Lando’s face as if mapping every plane and angle with worshipful precision.
“I could help countless others access their potential or tap into dimly lit corners of their awareness,” you continue. “But there will only ever be one person to whom I belong in that elemental way. One person who will ever see this side of me and who lays the very fabric of their being bare without reservation.”
A tremulous exhalation shudders across Lando’s lips at the finality in your tone, as if every lingering filament of doubt or uncertainty has finally dissolved in the face of your avowal. One of his hands comes up to splay across the small of your back, fingers flexing and bunching the silky material of your robe in a desperate clutch as if you’re the last solid comfort in a churning sea.
When his eyes slip open once more, they’re practically luminescent with a naked heat that sends a delicious curl of answering want unfurling through your core.
“Show me,” he rasps, the simple entreaty laced with an edge of heart-stoppingly vulnerable need. “Please, Y/N …. I need to feel you completely.”
In the stillness that follows, the only sounds are your mingled exhales and the thunderous gallop of racing pulses filling the air with resonant verses of sin and worship. Then, with an instinctual roll of your hips, you’re slotting one toned thigh between Lando’s splayed legs and sealing your mouth over his in a filthy, searing kiss that instantly has his back arching off the rumpled sheets with a muffled groan.
There’s nothing tentative in the wanton slide of your lips and tongues, every flick and brush and gentle graze brimming with carnal intent and the unspoken promise to strip one another to the very marrow.
Lando surrenders to the sweet onslaught eagerly, hands skating across your body in frantic, searing paths until the belt of your robe finally falls away and he can palm the bare curves of your ass to grind you more fully against his rapidly stiffening length.
You break away with a sharp gasp at the delicious friction, mouth immediately seeking out the fevered juncture of Lando’s neck and shoulder to mouth searing patterns across the taut tendons there. “You want my gift?” You rasp against the thrumming pulse under your lips, rolling your hips in a languid, purposeful grind that drags the already swollen head of his cock through the slick evidence of your arousal with tantalizing friction.
Lando’s response is a low, breathless stream of curses and encouragements, blunt fingernails raking distractedly down the length of your spine in a way that sets every nerve alight with tingling sparks of pleasure-pain.
Allowing him to nip and suck intoxicating patterns across your collarbones, you dip your hand between your bodies until you can wrap your fingers around his rigid shaft, dragging the pads in a devastatingly slow glide from base to tip.
The groan that punches from Lando’s chest at your touch is guttural, hips pumping restlessly into the tight channel of your fist. “Fuck, yes … want all of you, every bloody inch ...”
His words seem to bypass your conscious mind entirely. You’re suddenly blisteringly aware of each and every point where your bodies join: the heated crush of his straining cock in your palm, the delicious friction of your slick folds catching and dragging against the cut grooves of his abdomen with each gyration of your hips, the teasing rasp of his calloused palms as they roam hungrily across your skin.
It’s as if Lando’s very being calls out to yours in an ancient tongue, rendering coherent thought utterly obsolete as you simply feel — the pulsing, cosmic certainty of your connection amplifying every tingling spark of friction and delirious drag of skin against skin until your entire world narrows to the joining of your shared potential cresting higher with each and every move.
“Now,” you grate out, vision whiting out as your climax detonates in a blinding supernova behind your navel — an ecstasy so transcendent that you’re certain it scorches across the very fabric of your soul. Your fingernails sink vicious crescent moons into Lando’s bicep as you arch against him with a keening cry.
“Y/N!” His hoarse shout fractures on a broken whine, muscles tensing as the first searing pulse of his orgasm floods your belly, joined soon by rich, viscous ropes of white heat that leave you both totally undone.
You simply clutch at each other through the relentless waves, Lando’s teeth sinking into the juncture of your neck and shoulder as if urging you to brand him irrevocably as yours.
When the explosive rapture finally begins to ebb, you both sag into the tangled bedding in a limp sprawl of sweat-slicked limbs and trembling aftershocks, chests heaving in perfect synchronicity as you cling to one another like lost mariners adrift in some fathomless sea.
You can’t even begin to discern where your consciousness begins and Lando’s ends — your very essences having merged so irrevocably that you simply exist as a singular vibration pulsing through the cosmos.
It takes several long, suspended moments for the concept of individual awareness to gradually seep back into the edges of your being, though even then it feels blasphemous to separate yourself from the soul-deep profundity of what you’ve just shared.
Finally, with a shuddering breath, you manage to crack your eyelids enough to drink in the sight of Lando gazing back at you with that same awed wonder etched across his beloved features.
“Bloody fucking hell,” he rasps, the words little more than a throaty whisper ghosting against your over-sensitized skin. “That was … there aren’t even words, are there?”
In lieu of responding, you simply wind your arms around him with a tremulous exhale, hooking your chin over the solid comfort of his shoulder and allowing his clean, earthy scent to wash over you like a balm.
In this place, suspended between bliss and awareness, there’s no need for words or platitudes. You can feel Lando’s very essence thrumming in tandem with yours — the inherent recognition of your twin flame and sacred belonging reverberating on a molecular level.
Here, entangled in the vital warmth of shared trust and intimacy, all that exists is the boundless and the eternal.
#f1 imagine#f1#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 fanfiction#f1 x reader#f1 x you#lando norris#ln4#lando norris imagine#lando norris x reader#lando norris x you#lando norris fic#lando norris fluff#lando norris fanfic#lando norris blurb#f1 fluff#f1 blurb#f1 one shot#f1 x y/n#f1 drabble#f1 fandom#f1blr#f1 x female reader#lando norris x female reader#lando norris x y/n#mclaren#lando norris one shot#lando norris drabble
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hi coming in a lil early for Smutty Tuesday but hear me out:
Azriel with a size kink and a corruption kink - a reader who is shy, quiet, easily flustered.
They’re at some party or gathering, reader gets overwhelmed and decides to hide away in a room to read her /definitely not/ smutty romance book. Azriel finds her, finds out what she’s *reading* (he definitely teased her about and her blush gave it away) and whatever resolve or restraint he has just snaps at the idea of ruining her 🫠🫠🫠
*insert rubbing hands together evilly here*
Life Imitates Art (Azriel x Reader)
WARNINGS: Smut, 18+, Size Kink, Corruption Kink, Oral through Panties, Oral
The room you are hiding in offers you peace and quiet, something sorely lacking in the ballroom just down the hall. You were always easily overwhelmed, preferring to stick to the shadows and be the wallflower, so you are certain no was missing you as your fingers turn the page.
You feel your lips curl up in a shy smile as your eyes scan over the page, the vulgarity in the text making your heart race. Nesta certainly has an interesting collection of books...you would have to steal from the pile more often.
Everything around you disappeared as you delved further and further into the story, rubbing your thighs together at the unholy images racking your brain with each word. You were so engrossed that you didn't hear the door open nor the footsteps walking towards you.
A large, scarred hand fell between the pages, and it made you jump. Your face went as red as a tomato as you saw the infamous Shadowsinger above you.
"I knew there was someone missing from the party..." He murmurs, hazel eyes dark as you try to snap your book shut. His hand prevents it though, fingers curling against the bottom and pulling it easily out of your grasp.
"Wait, that's-" You try to reach for it, but he clicks his tongue, giving you a warning glance before turning to read.
"His fingers curled inside me, touching me in places that I had dreamed of him caressing," Azriel's voice was pure sex as he smirked, enjoying the way you shrank into the chair from embarrassment. "I could only see his eyes as he watched me between my legs, his hot breath fanning across my c-"
"Stop!" You plead, covering your ears. "Please, I get it, just don't read further."
"What's wrong, Y/N? You were just reading this yourself, were you not?" He teased, snapping the book shut with a loud thud. "Why are you so embarrassed now?"
You groan and cover your face, shaking your head to try and see if this is simply a dream. However, when you peek through your fingers, Azriel was still there, watching you.
"Did you like it?"
"Az, I didn't mean for you to find me reading-" You protest until he leans forward even more, both of his hands bracing on the arm of the large lounge chair and caging you in.
"That's not what I asked you, little mouse. Answer me." His tone is authoritative, shivers running down your spine as you crane your head back to look him in the eyes.
"I...yes, yes, I liked it." Your voice is barely above a whisper as you see his jaw clench, the fabric of the chair crunching from how hard his grip had gotten.
"Was that so hard?" He asked, gaze falling briefly to your lips before back up to your eyes. "I didn't know a girl like you read those kinds of books. I wonder what else I don't know about you..."
One of his hands came up to rest against the column of your throat, his eyes lighting up with enjoyment at the way you swallowed at the contact. Your breath hitched when he knelt in front of you, his hands falling to your thighs and spreading them with ease.
"Have you ever been tasted before?" Azriel murmurs, slowly bunching your skirts up your leg to reveal more and more skin.
You felt like you were going to faint as your brain tried to catch up with what was happening, confused as to how this had escalated so quickly but not at all upset.
"Y/N." He calls, pinching your thigh and making you squeak. "Answer me when I ask you a question. Have you?"
"N-No, I've never...I've never done anything like this..." You mumble.
Azriel stops at the top of your thigh, his eyes closing for a brief moment as his nostrils flare. You try to sit up, worried you've upset him, but gasp when he all but shoves you back down into the chair.
It takes him a moment to speak again, his gaze fully concentrated between your legs where your panties were just starting to become visible. You swear you saw him shaking, his wings extending as he finally stops when he reveals yourself fully.
"Little mouse..." He moans, wrapping both of his arms under your thighs and yanking you forward until your ass was hanging off the end of the seat. "I can't wait to ruin you."
He immediately licks a long stripe over your lace underwear, his spit soaking through as the sensation sends your body buzzing. You whimper as he eats you out through the thin material, making sure to soak your entire underwear as you wiggle and roll your hips.
When he's had enough teasing, he moves his hand to each side of your hip and rips through them like paper, wasting no time in getting back to feasting on your pussy. Your fingers grasp his short hair, your eyes squeezing shut as your pleasure only increases.
"Oh, Az, please!" You gasp, back arching when he hums his praises of your vocalizations. "Fuck!"
"That's it, pretty girl," He moans, sucking and nibbling on your clit as his ring finger circles around your entrance. "Scream for me."
As he gives you another particularly hard suck that makes you see stars, he also pushes his finger into you. You moan loudly, walls clamping down on the intrusion as he curses.
"Stars, you are so fucking tight," Azriel hisses, thrusting in and out. "I can't wait to stretch you out, princess. To see this tiny cunt swallow me whole."
"I want it," You whine, looking down at him desperately. "I want you so bad, please I can't take much more."
There was the familiar feeling of your orgasm building, but it felt so much more intense than you were used to. You didn't have control over your body or your words as pleas and whines flow out like water.
"You can and you will." He snarls, pulling away as he adds a second finger and starts scissoring you open. "You'll take everything I give you. Do you know why?"
You shake your head, your clothes feeling too tight on your skin as he curls his fingers and hits that spot that makes you scream.
"Because this is mine." Azriel curls his fingers again, bringing you that much closer to the edge. "Your cries, your moans, your pleasure, it is mine and mine only. Only I can give you this, bring you to this point, and you'll take it and thank me."
"Yes, only you!" You repeat, barely coherent, as you start to clench around his fingers. He adds a third one, coming back to hover his mouth over your clit.
"Do you want to cum, mouse? Want to make a mess all over this chair, my fingers, my face?" He taunts you, watching as your cheeks heat up again from his words. "I want to hear you say it before you cum."
"Az, please!" You cry, hips bucking as he starts to flick your bud with the tip of his tongue. However, your words fall on deaf ears as he waits for you to give in, to speak those filthy thoughts aloud.
Shame will come to swallow you whole at a later time, your pleasure fogging your mind until all you can think of is Azriel's tongue, fingers, cock...
"I want to cum! I want to cum on your fingers, on your cock, I don't care!" Your voice breaks as he keeps you on edge, his pupils blown wide as he watches you fall from your pedestal of innocence and into his awaiting arms. "Please, please, please. I need it, I need you-I just-"
You can't finish your sentence as he mumbles against your sopping cunt and starts curling his fingers again, licking your clit just right to send you falling into an abyss of carnal rapture.
Your entire body seizes up, your mouth falling open to silently scream. He continues to fuck you through it, prolonging your pleasure as tears form in the corner of your eyes. You had touched yourself before, had made yourself cum, but it never felt this powerful.
Azriel watches you, his breathing ragged as you look at him with hazy eyes. It takes you a moment to realize he had picked you up and was carrying you out of the room and up the stairs, your head resting against his chest.
"Where are you taking me?" You ask hoarsely.
"To my room. I told you you'd take all of it, Y/N, and that doesn't just mean an orgasm."
#azriel#azriel smut#azriel x reader#azriel x reader smut#acotar#acomaf#acowar#acosf#acofas#acotar smut#acotar reader#acotar reader smut#azriel acotar smut#azriel acotar#smutty tuesday
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Cool Girl
Ghoap x female reader / 18+ / previous
The sunrise stabs under your eyelids with malicious intent.
You don’t have much of a hangover, but your face is still puffy, under eyes swollen. You’ve been crying all night, and it’s painfully obvious.
Not to mention the lack of sleep. The vomit induced by your overwhelming anxiety, the bile still scorching your throat. You haven’t slept more than an hour. You look like the walking dead.
You tried to have a serious talk with yourself around two o’clock in the morning. You told- no you promised- yourself you’d leave well enough alone. You’d put them out of your mind. You’d move on.
They never wanted you. So why are you so insulted that they did exactly what they said they would? You weren’t theirs. You’d never be theirs.
Good enough to keep in bed. Good enough to keep out of sight. But not someone they’d consider theirs.
You’re no one’s. You’re just… yours.
Which is fine. It’s more than fine. You’re cool. You don’t need them, or anyone.
Your hand won’t stop shaking though. It shakes when you turn on the water for the shower, shakes as you try to shave. It shakes through your first cup of tea and then your second, shakes when you curl up the couch and huddle under your blankets, staring blankly at reruns of some laugh tracked sitcom. It’s because you haven’t slept or you’re hungover or something-
And it only stops when your doorbell rings.
You slam your eyes shut. You’re not expecting anyone, and that alone makes you feel like there’s probably someone on the other side of the door that you decidedly do not want to see.
The glance through your peephole confirms your suspicions.
It’s Johnny. He’s standing squarely in front of your door, bouquet of flowers in his hand.
Your head starts to pound, and he knocks on the door.
“I know ye’re home, bonnie. I saw yer car in the garage.” You’re frozen on the other side, separated by a piece of metal and wood that suddenly feels less substantial than it ever has before.
When the lock doesn’t click, he knocks again. “‘m not leavin’ until I see ye.” You groan.
“Stalking me now?” You spit when you open the door and he grins sheepishly.
“Naw...” He doesn’t elaborate and you stand in the frame of the door, trying to block him from peering over you- though it’s no use. You watch his critical gaze take inventory of what he can in your flat, and then he returns his attention to you, holding out the flowers.
They’re tulips. Maybe twenty, twenty five stems, all in a spectacle of color. They’re beautiful, and your favorite.
It surprises you. That they even know that about you. That they would remember a comment you must have made in passing.
It gives you pause. It’s confusing.
“Got these for ye.” He’s… such a boy. A grown man, a decorated military man, a strong man but still… such a boy. He’s never looked more like a boy than he does now, eyes wide and nervous, shifting his weight from leg to leg. He blinks, eyelashes feathery and dark, and you’re left to wonder if he gets it from his mom or his dad. Does he have sisters? Brothers? Nieces or nephews? You ached for those pieces of them, before.
Now, the lingering questions fill you with embarrassment.
He steps forward, and you shrink back. His gaze flickers, and then clears, holding the overflowing bundle of colors towards you.
“Thanks.” You say stiffly, careful to avoid his fingers when you pull it free.
“Can I come in?”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” He chews on his lip.
“Ye look tired, love. Did ye get any sleep?” You sniff, hand resting on your hip.
“I’m fine.”
“Ye dinnae look fine.”
“Why are you here?” You’re cracking with exasperation, legs going weak. You’re not strong enough to stand here and survive an onslaught.
“Need to talk with ye, like we said last night.”
“There’s nothing to talk about, like I said last night.” You parrot with a irritated exhale.
“Ye know that’s jus’ not true. We need to talk about what ye saw, what ye think ye saw-“
“What did I see? Since apparently you know what I’m thinking now.” You’re too tired for this. You don’t want to do this. You want to crawl back into bed and hide under your blankets.
“Ye think ye saw us with another woman, or on a date, but-“
“I saw your hands on another woman. I saw her smiling at you like-“ you shake your head. “It doesn’t matter what I saw,” he swallows, mouth pressing into an uncomfortable line, “I always knew this wasn’t real, that it didn’t mean anything but-“
“Ye agreed. Ye always said ye didnae want a relationship.” He reminds you sharply, and you nearly swallow your tongue.
“Yeah, I didn’t, so.” The lie is foul on your tongue, rancid and spoiled, but you give it life regardless. Fuck them. You’re fine.
“But yer mad ye saw us with another woman.” He raises an eyebrow, and you never wanted to punch someone so badly.
But instead of a rising tide of anger, you get an overwhelming wave of despair, and tears prick at the corner of your eyes.
“Ah, no, love. Please, please dinnae cry. ‘m sorry, this is such a mess. We never meant for any of this.” Your hand starts shaking again, trembling against the plastic wrapped around the stems, and Johnny’s expression changes from sad to worried. “What’s this?” He tries to reach, fingers grazing the back of your arm.
“N-nothing, I’m just tired.”
“Love-“
“Just… go away.” Your patience snaps, shatters, and his face falls. It almost makes your feel bad.
Almost.
#peaches writes#Ghoap x reader#simon riley#simon riley x reader#john mactavish#john mactavish x reader
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I Remember Everything - Rafe Cameron (Chapter 2)
Summary: You left the island two years ago, leaving the love of your life a shattered man in your wake. Now, when you return, you find the sweet boy you once loved has transformed into a monster of a man. How can you detangle the real Rafe from the terrible things he's done?
Timeline: begins toward the end of obx season 3 and is mostly canon.
Content: this story contains sexual content, alcohol and drug abuse, and brief mentions of violence. All chapters are 18+, minors do not interact!
(Prologue and Chapter 1)
You tried to close the door quietly behind you, wincing everytime it creaked, but as you tiptoed through the foyer into the living room you quickly realized your stealth was of no use. Your mother sat in her chair in the corner of the room, flipping the page on whatever cheesy self-help book she was worshiping today. She looked up at you and then to the oversized clock on the wall pointedly.
“Really? Sitting up under a single lamp light?” You rolled your eyes. “What are you gonna say next, ‘where have you been young lady?’”
“Actually, I was just going to ask if you had a good night,” she said in her all-too-familiar-guilt-trip tone. “But since I’m apparently such a stereotype, maybe I should ask where you’ve been. I’ll be the overbearing mother you’ve made up in your head.”
You just sighed. “I’m not doing this with you, goodnight mom.”
“Don’t forget we’re having dinner at the island club tomorrow night!” She called after you. “Just you, me, and Chip.”
You winced. “I don’t know if the Island Club is really my vibe anymore, mom.”
“Y/N,” your mother said in warning. “The other 51 weeks of the year, you are welcome to walk around like you’re better than all of us. But this week is my week and I want to have dinner at the Island Club with my daughter and my fiancé.”
In your twenty years on earth, you’d had approximately one million fights with your mother. You were wise enough by now to know which ones you were going to lose.
You sighed in defeat, “Alright mom, I’ll be there.”
Like she said, it was just one week and then you could get the hell out of here. Thinking of the night you just had with a pang of sadness, you thought, this time maybe for good.
Two Years Ago…
“Happy birthday, baby,” Rafe said, beaming.
“Rafe what did you do?” You asked.
“Got you something,” he shrugged, his casual tone betrayed by the big, bright smile on his face, his dimples on full display. He looked so excited it made your heart swell.
“You got me a car?” You said in disbelief.
“Not just a car, your dream car!” He extended his long arms, displaying the vehicle like a Price-is-Right model.
“You actually bought me a car?” You said quietly, shaking your head in awe.
“Do you like it?” He asked, now wringing his hands nervously. His sudden timidness made you weak, wanting to hold him in his vulnerability.
“Baby,” you said quietly before suddenly breaking out in a run toward him, leaping into his arms. Even in his surprise, he caught you, like he always did.
You tucked your head into the crook of his neck as your arms and legs wrapped around him. He held you back so tightly, you thought he might never let go.
“I love it,” you mumbled into his skin. “You have no idea.”
He pulled his head back to get a look at you. You had tears in your eyes as you beamed back at him.
“I love you,” you said before dropping a gentle kiss to his lips.
“You have no idea,” he said, before kissing you back harder.
The kiss turned more passionate as he started walking the two of you toward the car, removing one hand from you to open the door to the back seat. He lowered you in slowly, both of you laughing into the kiss. You scooted backward to the other side of the back seat, pulling your legs to your chest to make room for him. For a moment, he just stood in the open door, taking you in. You giggled nervously under his hungry gaze.
“You gonna join me?” You asked, taunting him with the low, sexy voice you knew made him crazy.
“Just wanna look at you for a sec,” he explained. “Wanna remember.”
You leaned forward and started to crawl towards him, hands and knees sinking into the soft leather seat.
“You have your whole life to look at me, baby,” you assured him.
Once you were close enough to him, you stretched your neck forward and kissed him again, grabbing his shirt collar and pulling him into the car with you. He gladly obliged and shut the door behind him. Once he was settled, you threw your leg over him and climbed in his lap, arms outstretched past either side of his head to hold onto the seat back behind him.
“You're not gonna hit the road in the middle of the night and leave me here now that you’ve got your own ride?” He asked, close enough to your lips that you could feel his breath sweep across them as he talked.
“I’m not going anywhere,” you promised. “Unless you’re in the seat right next to me.”
You leaned in to kiss him again, but he pulled back before your lips met. You furrowed your brows in confusion.
“I got you another gift,” Rafe said.
“Rafe,” you said, “you already got me a car. I don't know what could possibly top that.”
Removing one of his hands from your hips, he reached into his pocket, pulling out a little black box.
“Open it and find out,” he held the box out to you.
With wide eyes, you took what was clearly a jewelry box from him and opened it slowly. Rafe reached up to turn on the car light so you could better see what was inside. It was a dainty gold ring, twisting around itself to make a small knot right in the middle. It was simple, but so beautiful.
“It’s a promise ring,” he explained.
You watched him watching you, realizing he was nervous, afraid you were about to reject his gesture. You could tell by the look on his face that he had more he was struggling to say, so you silently reached out your hand and placed it on his cheek, letting him know you were listening, that he was safe.
He nuzzled his head into your soft hand and closed his eyes for a moment to gather his thoughts. After a moment, he opened them into yours and took a deep breath.
“You are…everything,” he said, eyebrows knit together in sincerity. As if he could somehow look at you hard enough to make you understand. “I don’t care what our parents say, or what all the people on this fucking island say, you are it for me, y/n. I will love you forever. Even if they cut us off, if we have no money and have to live out of the back of this car, I don’t care, I want you. Forever.”
He searched your face for any sign that you’d reject him, or laugh at his earnest desperation. You’d never treated him like that before, but he had been raised to believe that vulnerability was weakness, and even with all the loyalty you’ve shown him, he couldn’t fight the thought that when he told you what he was really feeling, you’d shoot him down.
Instead, you simply said, “Well, am I going to have to put it on myself?”
He laughed, relief spreading through his chest. He took the box from you and removed the ring, slipping it on your left ring finger before placing a kiss over it.
You grabbed his face with both hands and looked at him hard, praying he’d believe you when you swore, “I will love you forever, Rafe Cameron.”
His lower lip flinched slightly as he fought back the tears he could feel springing up. He kissed you quick, hoping you didn’t notice. You did notice, but you kissed him back to take his mind off of it, knowing how much he hates crying in front of people. You slid your hands back to tangle your fingers in his hair, tugging gently in appreciation as he moved his lips to your neck.
“Don’t leave any marks,” you whined. “My mom…”
“You’re 18 now, baby, she can’t do shit,” he mumbled before going back to sucking on the tender spot at the base of your neck.
“Yeah, except stop feeding me and kick me out of the house,” you protested, though not exactly pushing him away.
“Like I said, we’ll just live in this car,” he joked.
“Or,” you said, pulling back from him to separate his lips from your skin before it could change color, “you could leave your mark somewhere she can’t see.”
With those words, you lifted your shirt over your head. Rafe watched hungrily, your words and movements making him grow harder than he already was. You smirked as you pressed down on him, making him hiss. Eyes locked to his, you reached back to unclasped your bra, letting the straps slide away as you revealed yourself to him slowly.
“Fuck,” he whispered as he took you in. He’d seen you naked countless times now, but the way he always looked at you like it was the very first time was the hottest thing in the world to you.
“You’re so fucking beautiful.” With those words, he sunk his head down and started pressing gentle kisses to the top of your breasts.
“I love when you talk to me like that, baby,” you gasp and arch your back as he captures the sensitive skin just above your nipple between his lips and starts sucking, taking you up on your suggestion to mark you somewhere no one will see.
You grab the back of his neck for stability, lightly letting your painted nails sink into his skin, the blissful pain of it making his hips buck up into yours. You moan as his length presses perfectly against your clit. You’re so wet you wonder if it's soaked through to his jeans yet.
“You like this?” He asked before releasing his lips and sinking into a spot on your other breast to add to the masterpiece he was leaving on your skin.
“I love it,” You answered.
“It’s your day, baby, just wanna make you feel good,” he told you.
“You always make me feel good,” you whimpered as you continued to writhe on him.
He pulled his mouth from you suddenly and moved his hands to your ass, holding you up so you couldn’t push down on him anymore. You pouted slightly, and he smirked at your neediness.
“Today’s all about you,” he said. He moved you off of him and laid you down on the seat, kneeling so he could hover over you. He caged you in with an arm at either side of your head. You twisted your neck to look at his arm, admiring the veins that ran up the side, committing the sight to memory. You loved everything about your boyfriend’s body, but something about his arms really drove you wild. Impulsively, you leaned over and placed a kiss on the inside of his forearm, loving how soft his skin was.
The gentleness of the moment made his skin break out in goosebumps and he looked down at you with hearts in his eyes. The only thing in the world he wanted at that moment was to make you feel how in love with you he is, so he lowered himself between your legs and got to work on your third gift of the day.
Now…
Rafe had two meetings today to sell some of the melted gold, both of which went exactly how he’d hoped. He didn’t understand how the high from the sale could wear off so quickly. So, like most nights, he found himself at the Island Club bar, three bourbons deep. He chuckled to himself, shaking his head at the conversation he just had with Topper about Sarah not answering his calls.
“What a cuck,” he said to himself under his breath.
Little did he know that just a few yards away, inside the club dining room, the girl he used to regularly ditch all of his friends for was sitting down to dinner.
You liked Chip just fine, he was a deputy at the sheriff’s department and though you had never been a huge fan of cops, he seemed to genuinely care about helping people. He made your mom happy, and she appears to have worked through some of the anxiety issues she had in your teens, which you were grateful for.
Even though you were tucked in a dark corner of the Island Club dining room, you and your mother still clocked all of the stares from nosy neighbors, wine moms, and kids you grew up with. It was like an Elvis sighting, after the wildfire of rumors that had engulfed the island after your disappearance two years ago. Chip, however, seemed to be none the wiser to your storied past. You didn’t know if your mom had told him all that had happened, and you kind of hoped she wouldn’t. He seemed like a simple guy with a simple view of the world, and you’d appreciate it if your mom would let him stay that way.
Chip was telling a story about one of his coworkers getting their arm stuck in the vending machine, when a commotion from outside the restaurant cut him off.
“I pay just as much as all of you assholes!” A man’s voice bellowed through the open windows.
Your heart froze and you closed your eyes, recognizing the voice immediately. When you looked up, you caught your mother’s glare, she had apparently placed the voice, too.
A glass shattered, followed by the voice yelling, “take your fucking hands off me, douche bag!”
“I’m just going to…” you set your napkin on the table and pushed your chair back.
“Y/N,” your mother said in warning. “We’re having dinner.”
“I’m just going to make sure everything is okay,” you said, hoping she didn’t realize that you were trying to convince yourself you had a reason to go out there just as much as you were trying to convince her.
“You’re not here for him,” she said. “You’re supposed to be here for me, for your family.”
Chip’s eyes darted quickly back and forth between you and your mother, totally lost. The two of you gave each other a look that clearly had years of history behind it, and he decided he might want to just stay in the dark.
“I’ll be right back,” you said definitively, standing from the table. Your mother sipped her wine bitterly as she watched you go.
You made your way out onto the patio, following the booming of Rafe’s voice over to the bar. He was face-to-face with another member, a middle aged man who was jabbing his finger into Rafe’s chest as he yelled at him.
“Everyone here is just trying to have a nice evening and you’re over here running your mouth,” the man spat.
Rafe shoved the man’s hand away from him and looked to the much younger woman who was standing behind him.
“I’m sorry for ruining your date with grandpa here, sweetheart,” he joked loudly. “If you ever want to be with a guy who can get it up without a truckload of Viagra, you give me a call, gorgeous.”
The man shoved Rafe and he stumbled backward, laughing, clearly drunk.
“Woah there cowboy,” Rafe chuckled. “We wouldn’t want to make a scene, now would we?”
He was being smug, dripping with arrogance, and it was making you sick. You couldn’t believe the words coming out of his mouth. You thought this time you’d be able to confront him, try to understand why he was treating people like this, but the twist of your stomach forced you away from the scene as you fled from the patio towards the beach.
Rafe was about ready to cock his fist back, too drunk to care about escalating the situation further, when he saw it again - a flash of long hair and a flowing skirt disappearing from view. He suddenly felt completely sober. He patted the guy on the back and threw back the last of his drink before following the mysterious figure down to the beach.
You stood at the edge of the water, doubled over with your heels in your hand, trying desperately to catch your breath. Maybe your mother was right, maybe you should just keep your head down and act like the only thing that matters to you on this island is her wedding. But both of you knew that wasn’t true, that it could never be true, not when he’s here. Not when something has clearly changed him, and you can’t sleep at night not knowing what horrible thing could’ve happened to make him behave this way. Just because you buried your love for him, didn’t mean the ghost of it had stopped haunting you.
You composed yourself and decided to go back to dinner. You’d fake your way through the rest of the week. You’d lie low, send your mother on her honeymoon, and finally get off this island for good. But when you turned back toward the club, he was there. Standing ten-feet away, just watching you.
“It is you,” he whispered, the wind knocked out of him from the shock of seeing your face in the moonlight.
“Hi, Rafe,” you say, but it doesn’t come out in the confident, casual way you had practiced for the last two years, preparing for the moment you’d inevitably see him again. Instead it’s meek, shaking with your unstable breath.
“What are you…” Rafe is speechless. For just a moment, he’s that soft, insecure boy you used to know. The boy you loved, who loved you desperately in return. He must catch the faint smile you can’t hold back, because his mouth slams shut and his jaw clenches. His wide eyes become steeley again as his shield flies back up.
“What are you doing here?” He practically spits.
“My mom is getting married,” you say, no smile gracing your lips anymore. “I thought you would’ve heard.”
“Been busy,” he shrugs. “Believe it or not I have actual shit going on.”
You chuckle humorlessly, “I can tell.”
“The fuck’s that ‘sposed to mean?” He takes an angry step towards you.
“Just the way you were talking back there, and at your party the other night,” you say. “Looks like you’re the big man now.”
It was you at the party. Rafe shakes his head in disgust, this is the final confirmation he needed to make-up his mind about whether he’s pissed at you. He’d prepared for this moment too, not sure if when he saw you again, he’d want to kiss you or kill you. Right now he was leaning toward the latter.
“Yeah, maybe I am,” Rafe says. “Now that I don’t have all of you holding me back.”
There’s a flash of something you can’t quite place in his eyes. For just a moment, he’s not here, like he’s losing a battle to stay in the moment. You wonder what kind of demons are roaring in his mind. You wish you didn’t want so desperately to exorcise them.
“All of us?” You repeat his words back to him, wondering who else joins you in the club of people Rafe Cameron now hates. You look him up and down with soft, sad eyes.
“What happened to you, Rafe?”
“I don’t have to fucking explain myself to you, Y/N,” your name shoots off his tongue like a bullet, nothing like the way he used to coo it in worship when he held you, or moan it in awe when he was inside of you. “Why don’t you just fuck off back to wherever you’ve been. You don’t belong here anymore.”
You just look at him, head tilted as your narrow eyes size him up in a way that makes him feel like an exposed nerve. You know the second you get home tonight, the tears will come, but right now you put on a stoic demeanor to match his own. This was the opposite of the reunion you had dreamed of. You thought you’d be back in the arms of the person who knew you better than anyone in the world, but instead you stand face-to-face with a total stranger.
You start to walk back up the beach in his direction, noticing the way his Adam's apple bobs as you get closer to him. Once you’re next to him, you look up into the blue eyes that you used to imagine your kids would have someday. So many things you’d wanted to say, hundreds of letters never sent, millions of tiny memories you’d hold onto forever, but now, with his frame looming over you, all you could think to say was,
“I hate your hair.”
And for the third time this week, he stood breathless as he watched you disappear.
(chapter 3)
a/n: THANK YOU so much for all the support on chapter one, I am actually blown away I did not think so many people would enjoy my words!! Special thank you to bestie @nadvs for all the inspo and advice!!! 🫶🫶🫶
taglist: @maybankslover @dark1paradise @lmg-stilinski24 @idkdudsworld @mimipanini09 @patis643 @readingsmuts
#rafe cameron#rafe obx#rafe cameron x reader#obx fic#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron x y/n#rafe cameron x you#rafe x reader#rafe outer banks#obx smut#rafe cameron fluff#rafe fanfic#rafe x you#rafe fanfiction#rafe smut#rafe imagine#rafe fic#rafe cameron fic#rafe cameron fanfiction#rafe cameron fanfic#rafe cameron and you#rafe cameron and reader#rafe cameron and y/n
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lil drabble i wrote literal EONS ago that i found in my notes cus i haven’t posted in a bit :3 (fem reader in this one !)
“hey.”
he grabbed your wrist, stopping you from going back to your house and marking the end of the day. no, the day wasn’t over until katsuki got what he wanted.
you turn back to him waiting for him to finish, tilting your head curiously. he looks away, brows furrowed so hard you thought he was mad about something until you saw how red his cheeks were and felt how clammy the hand around your wrist was.
katsuki was never good at asking for, well…anything, simply taking whenever he wanted.
but the situation didn’t exactly seem fitting.
you’d recently started dating about a few weeks ago( 6 weeks and 5 days to be exact—no he was NOT counting.) and he deemed that being too forceful wasn’t a good move, girls usually didn’t like that type of stuff. from what he read about on wikihow, anyway.
but he wants a goodnight kiss.
it was sort of funny, really. how stupidly hard he was trying to get himself to form the words to ask for a fucking kiss from his girlfriend, unfortunately his pride (and embarrassment) got in the way.
"katsu ?" you questioned, already reaching a hand up to press it against his forehead though he stopped you before you could, grabbing your hand and gripping it a little tighter than necessary and he hopes you don’t notice how fucking sweaty his hands are.
he looked down at the hand he was holding, mumbling something "hm? sorry, what’d you say?" you asked, stepping closer to him. katsuki felt like he was going to fucking explode, you really didn’t need to make it harder for him.
he took a deep breath, looking up at you with as much intensity as he could muster, though that plan fell flat when you saw the blush coating his neck all the way to his ears.
"k-kiss me.." his eyebrow twitched at the way he stuttered, but he kept his gaze on you, desperately trying to fight off the nervousness in his gut to keep from further embarrassing himself.
Oh.
nerves taking over, he lowered his head slightly, peeking at you through his bangs. god, this was the pinnacle of embarrassing.
"oh, okay." you answered simply, a soft smile overtaking your face.
huh ?
he looked up, surprised to see you walking closer, closer and closer and your noses were almost touching and katsuki felt his heart beat dangerously hard against his ribcage.
noses bumped against each other and you giggled, a sound that caused his chest to warm even more, his hard gaze melting into something softer.
you both stood there for a second, simply staring at each other before he spoke. "what’re ya waiting for?" he huffed, voice low. you don’t miss the way his voice trembled as he kept his eyes on yours, cheeks still a cute shade of pink.
"you’re not even gonna say please ?" you teased, smiling playfully.
"don’t push it." he immediately answered, grabbing your waist and tugging you closer to him, your foreheads touch now. "kiss me." he repeats.
you sighed lightheartedly, giggling with rolled eyes before placing your hand on his burning cheek, using the other to grab onto his shoulder as leverage to pull yourself up to him.
"you’re too spoiled." you whispered, connecting your lips to his softly before he could respond. he didn’t waste any time, eagerly kissing back, sighing happily into the kiss.
katsuki wasn’t good at asking for, well…anything, but he’d learn. for now, this was good enough.
#this was a silly lil thing why did i never post this lmfao#bakugou katsuki x reader#katsuki bakugou x reader#bakugo fluff#bakugou imagine#bakugou x reader#katsuki x reader#katsuki bakugo x reader#bakugou katsuki#bakugou katuski x reader#bakugou fluff#bakugo drabble#bakugou drabble#katsuki x you#bakugo katsuki x reader#katsuki bakugo fluff#katsuki x y/n#bakugo x y/n#bakugo x female reader
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hi!! i saw that you had your request open and i was thinking maybe poly! marauders + lily taking out (or asking) reader on a first date? i think it would be cute.
i read your last fic on them and i loved how you wrote for them! also i just want to say i love your writing!!
poor shy reader - thoughts and prayers fr
marauders + lily x shy!reader who go on a date
CW: continuation from this fic, fem!reader is in Hufflepuff, some nerves/anxiety, fluff
You’ve made a mistake.
You’ve made a mistake and think it might be too late to do anything.
“Are you almost ready? The Gryffindor’s bullied a first year into letting them into the common room and now they’re downstairs waiting for you.” One of your roommates advised you in a bored tone as she moved to sit on her bed.
You’ve made a mistake.
“Can you tell them I’m poorly or something?” You begged; tone inlaid with a shrill quality you tried to clear away. “I can’t do this.”
She looked at you like you had grown three heads. “What? You can’t go on a date with four of the hottest people in our year? Get a grip.”
“Please.” You tried again.
“I’m not a bloody owl, L/N.” She spat as she opened up a magazine, effectively shutting you out.
You stared at yourself in the mirror again; the fourth outfit you tried on for your date with the four Gryffindor’s you’d stupidly agreed to while still sat in Remus’ lap at the Gryffindor party where you’d actually sodding kissed Lily Evans.
You’ve made a mistake.
“Hey gorgeous.” You heard at your dorm room door, causing your room mate to groan dramatically as she fell backwards on her bed.
Lily’s auburn eyebrows furrowed at her before her eyes flit back to you; any tension immediately melting into a look far too soft to be for you. “Are you ready to go?”
No.
You looked at yourself in the mirror one last time; you were about to be escorted to Hogsmeade by the most beautiful people to grace the halls of Hogwarts arguably ever and you couldn’t help but feel entirely too plain.
Lily breathed out a chuckled through her nose and moved to stand behind you, looking at your reflection in the mirror as she moved a lock of your hair behind your shoulder. “As much as I too would love to sit here and admire your reflection, I’m afraid it’s not wise to leave the boys alone unattended for too long.” She murmured as she pressed a kiss to your cheek.
They were going to be the death of you.
As if punctuating the end of Lily’s sentence and your thoughts, you heard a faint popping sound from the common room and the sound of chuckling.
“We ought to go.” Lily said, casually (for her…not for you) taking your hand and all but dragging you out of your room.
When you got downstairs, it was to the sight of first year Hufflepuffs glaring as menacingly as first year Hufflepuffs could as they all marched past the Marauders.
“What did you boys do now?” Lily chided playfully as they all turned to see you.
Their mischievous smiles quickly turned soft and sweet as they took you in.
“Oh my gods!” James exclaimed as he stepped towards the two of you. “My sweet Lily flower, where did you find this angel?”
Your gaze dropped immediately to your feet as Lily - the traitor - moved away from your side to stand near Remus.
“I’d ask if it hurt when you fell from heaven but, I don’t see a single imperfection, Gorgeous.” Sirius continued.
You huffed and crossed your arms as you looked across the room to see the first years still glaring at the group of you as they shed their - quite ashey - robes.
“Erm, why are the first years shaking ash off their robes?” You asked cautiously.
As if they had only just remembered that they’d been causing mischief a mere few moments ago, James and Sirius stepped into action.
“Oh right!” James said with an awkward laugh. “We, uhm, we should get going.”
And before you could ask any follow up questions (or ask to reschedule, perhaps), you had Sirius on one of your arms and James on the other and were being ushered from the Hufflepuff common room.
Helga help me.
The other four did most of the talking on your walk to Hogsmeade, which you were eternally grateful for. But you were now standing in line at Zonko’s - to which the boys insisted they go and Lily had left it up to you and…well…have you seen those boys? How were you expected to say no? - and you felt like every other student’s eyes were on you.
What is she doing with them? You could imagine them snickering to each other.
Think this is one of their pranks? Their friends would respond.
Evans usually isn’t the type but… it could be funny to watch anyhow.
Your body was itchy and your skin felt hot; you needed to get out of the store.
“Hey.” James murmured quietly, resting his chin on your shoulder as his body created a barrier between you and the other patrons of the store; strong arms wrapping protectively around your front as the other three pretended not to notice. “I think we lost you there for a second; you okay?”
You nodded, not quite trusting your voice not to betray your anxiety.
“Do you regret agreeing to come out with us?” He asked quietly; no ire or contempt detected in his voice. He truly was just trying to check in and make sure you were okay.
“No.” You responded firmly, quickly. Clearing your throat and responding again. “No, I don’t.”
You could feel James smile as he pressed a chaste kiss to your cheek. “We’re almost done here and then we can go wherever you want.” He promised; and though that had been the end of the conversation, he stayed glued (what certainly felt like possessively) to your side until you had all exited the joke shop and stood on the cobble stoned roads of Hogsmeade.
“So where do you wanna go, Princess?” Sirius asked as everyone paused to face you in a semi-circle.
For the ground to swallow me up, maybe?
“Erm, I…I’m not sure, I didn’t…really think about it.” You admitted awkwardly, wrapping your arms around your middle as if trying to shield yourself from your dates’ gazes.
Sirius looked like he was going to make a teasing remark when Lily elbowed him.
“Do you like sweets? Why don’t we head to Honeydukes; Moony needs to restock his chocolate stash anyway.” James offered jovially, turning towards the direction of the sweets shop without waiting to see if anyone was following him.
Sirius winked at a blushing Remus as he and Lily followed James and Sirius offered you his hand.
“Come on; I’ll buy you a pack of those sugar quills you like.” He said as he swung your hands between the two of you playfully, slowly following your little group towards the shop.
“How d’you know I like sugar quills?” You asked quietly, earning you a snort from the black-haired boy.
“Do you know Lily’s favourite lolly flavour?”
You felt your cheeks heat but nodded. “Cherry.”
He made a quiet proud sound as he carried on. “And James? What does he like from Honeydukes?”
“Jelly Slugs - particularly the watermelon flavour.”
Sirius hummed in acknowledgement and bumped into you before continuing to swing your arms together. “And mine?” He asked; and if you weren’t mistaken, there was a hint of vulnerability in the notoriously cocky boy's voice.
You smiled up at him at that. “The Peppermint Toads.”
That caused him to beam at you, looking down at your lips before his brows furrowed slightly and he dropped his gaze shyly to his boots.
“And how do you know our favourite sweets?”
You grumbled and went to pull your hand away from him, but he held fast. “Because I’m a creepy tosser.”
He let out an offended scoff at that and pulled you over to him, tickling at your sides in punishment. “You are not a creepy tosser, you little minx!”
He relented his attack on your sides as you fought to catch your breath; staring up into his silver gaze in anticipation - for what? You weren’t sure.
“Is it because, perhaps, you fancy us?” He offered.
You lowered your head to his chest; embarrassed at being known, perceived, caught in your obvious affections for them - notwithstanding the fact that you’d actually accepted an invitation for a date with them which should have tipped them off anyways.
“So,” Sirius continued, resting his chin on top of your head and pulling you in tighter to his chest. “Shouldn’t we know the same of you if we were to fancy you?”
You sucked in a deep breath - definitely not savouring the smell of sandalwood and mint emanating from Sirius’ chest - and pulled away.
“It would have been quite brash of me to assume so many Gryffindor’s could possibly fancy me.” You admitted quietly as you carried on towards the shop where James was waiting rather impatiently as Lily tried to convince him to stand still.
“Then be brash, darling.” Sirius drawled. “‘Cause it’s true.”
“Don’t kill the poor thing before we’ve a chance to spoil her, Pads.” James called as Lily and Remus smiled at you.
“I’m not, I’m not.” Sirius grumbled as he swatted James’ arse and all but forced him into the store.
“Can’t believe you didn’t kiss her.” Lily hissed as they walked ahead of you and Remus.
“I was nervous!” You heard Sirius whisper back.
“Nervous!?” James and Lily bawked; you and Remus sharing a shy, awkward smile as you pretended you couldn’t hear them.
“Come with me.” Remus finally offered, motioning towards the wall of Chocolate Frogs with his head as he took your hand. “We’ll find them later.”
You and Remus walked through the aisles as he told you stories of Sirius, James, and Peter trying each and every one of the sweets (even the silly ones). Apparently, they learned Peter was allergic to earthworms due to an unfortunate selection of Berties Botts Every-Flavour Beans.
“How was that the thing that tipped him off? Did he never try picking one up as a kid?” You asked through a laugh.
“Right? What kid doesn’t spend time making mud pies and catching earthworms? We figured just for that, the sod almost deserved to go anaphylactic.” Remus joked with no real malice.
You approached a stand of sample chocolates that caught Remus’ eye.
“Hm, nutmeg Cauldron Cakes; that looks good.” You commented as you considered the pastries.
Remus’ mouth tipped up in a mischievous smile as he quickly picked up one of the small samples and held it in front of you.
“Open.”
You stared at him dumbly. “I…I’m sorry?”
His smirk only grew as he kept his eyes on your lips. “Open.” He instructed again.
Not willing to stand here with a pastry held in front of your face asking stupid questions any longer, you acquiesced and allowed Remus to feed you the pastry.
He moved, likely slower than necessary, and just as you went to close your mouth, he paused his movements and slowly slid his thumb between your lips, pulling your bottom lip down as he went.
You didn’t realise you’d been standing there in shock until he raised an expectant eyebrow at you, prompting you to chew the treat now sitting idly on your tongue.
“Good girl.”
Merlin’s fucking tits, he was going to make you choke.
Apparently you weren't the only one, if the sound of James’ strangled groan echoing from where he, Sirius, and Lily had been standing and staring at the two of you.
James looked like he couldn’t tell which of you he was most jealous of, Sirius stood staring with his eyebrows up near his hair line and his mouth wide open, and Lily watched with a knowing smirk adorning her face.
“Was it good?” James whispered over to you.
You nodded dumbly, looking up at Remus as if you were somehow asking for his agreement.
“Better let me confirm.” He murmured as he leaned down; one hand cradling the back of your head and the other tilting your chin up to meet his lips, though he stopped just before they connected.
You could feel the gentle puffs of Remus' breath hitting your lips from where your eyes were glued to his mouth. When it became obvious you were at a stalemate, your eyes flitted up to meet him.
His eyes were on yours as they danced with a mixture of mischief and questions.
Questions.
...“Is it okay if she kisses you, pretty girl?”...
And you weren’t a Gryffindor; you weren’t brave or bold, nor were you daring. But dammit, you were a Hufflepuff; you had a propensity for hard work, and you could do hard things!
So, you let your eyes fall back to Remus’ lips before you closed the distance between you two.
You felt him smile into the kiss before he deepened it, finally pulling away with a pleased hum though he kept his hands on either side of your face.
“She wasn’t lying, Prongs; it was good.” He called over, gaze never leaving your face.
You heard what you could only imagine was Sirius’ boot stomping petulantly from his place as Lily barked a laugh at him. “I was this close to being the second one to kiss her!”
You dropped your head into Remus’ chest only for him to chuckle as he wrapped his arms around you.
“Better luck next time, Pads.” He taunted.
You officially knew your suspicions were correct: the Gryffindor’s really were trying to kill you.
#marauders era#marauders au#marauders fanfiction#reader insert#self insert#sirius black#remus lupin#james potter#lily evans#poly!marauders#poly!marauders + lily#poly!marauders fluff#poly!marauders imagine#poly!marauders x reader#poly!marauders x you#poly!marauders + lily x reader#poly!marauders + lily x you#sirius black x reader#sirius black x you#remus lupin x reader#remus lupin x you#james potter x reader#james potter x you#lily evans x you#lily evans x reader#lily evans x fem!reader#ellecdc fics
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a/n: my beau, the love of my life 🫂 little smth before i go to war (finals is in two days) ,, AAAAAA i love aven so much hes so precious hes so dear to me MY BELOVED !! hes canonically a messy sleeper 😋 hes so silly bf oml
aventurine looks so ethereal right now. well, he’s always been beautiful. but in this light? with how the beams from the sun highlights his features, aventurine looks gorgeous.
he’s sleeping soundly, too. pajama shirt nearly unbuttoned because of how much he twist and turn in his sleep. blonde locks messily sprawled over the pillow and his forehead. he’s so endearing. it takes everything in you just to not wake him with a shower of aggressive kisses all over his pretty face.
usually, you’ll let him sleep in. however, today’s itinerary is quite full and busy so a few more minutes of sleep will indeed hurt.
“wake up, sleeping beauty.” you sit on the edge of the bed hovering over him, your pointer finger repeatedly poking his cheek. when he doesn’t move an inch, you gently blow air in his ear. grinning widely once he shudders. slowly after that, aventurine flutters open his eyes. squinting at the morning light, blindly patting around for your hand.
“g’morning.” he murmurs, arms snaking around your waist, pulling you close. aventurine nuzzles in your neck, his lips leaving short kisses on your skin. an attempt to coax you back to bed.
“good morni— no, no. you need to get up.” you hold his face and pull him away from your personal bubble. his cheeks are squished against your palms, you have the urge to sink your teeth into them. “it’s robin’s concert today and we promised to come over for her album release lunch party.”
“you promised her.”
“and you are my official plus one to everything.” you bite one of his cheeks and aventurine lets you. he loves you too much to deny you of anything. he also really loves affection from you so this situation is more beneficial for him than for you.
“so i’m just a pretty thing for you to flaunt around?” he turns his head in your hold in order to land a kiss on your inner wrist, his gaze affectionate and soft as they bore into you.
“my pretty lover whose presence i always want around? yes, you are.” finally, you lean down to kiss him. aventurine sighs at the feeling of your lips on his. he can taste the coffee you must’ve had before you went to wake him up.
“okay, enough.” you pull away. instantly, he frowns like a child whose candy got stolen. he tries to chase after you but a hard bite on his nose is enough to make him back down (he sends you a glare though). “get up. we still have to pick up veritas on the way.”
“he’s a grown man. he can drive himself there.”
“apparently, he was grading papers until 4am. he is in no condition to drive, baby.” you walk away from him after a last kiss on his lips. aventurine groans, annoyed that his sleep got interrupted and he felt like your kisses weren’t enough. he needs more than five kisses to fully function in a day. he pats around the bed for his phone, arm lazily hitting the pillows scattered around the bed.
as he clicks on the power button, his jaw drops in disbelief. you.. how could you….
“it’s five in the morning! why— it’s still too early!”
“you kicked me off the bed! it’s payback!”
“you’re such a menace, oh my god.”
“love you, baby! come down! breakfast is waiting.”
likes and reblogs are appreciated! masterlist
#tim writes.#honkai star rail#hsr x reader#hsr imagines#hsr#hsr aventurine#honkai star rail aventurine#aventurine headcanons#aventurine x reader#aventurine#aventurine honkai star rail#star rail aventurine#hsr aventurine x reader
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PART 7 | AFTER FIVE YEARS
Pairing: Carlos Sainz x Reader
Summary: Carlos Sainz finally met his son he had with her ex-wife, Y/N.
Warning: Nothing just wholesome
Cael is excitedly showing Carlos his toy car collection. “I have this Volkswagen Golf GTS from Uncle Danny. And this is my Ferrari Sf90 Stradale that Mama bought me on my birthday,” Cael said, presenting his toys to his father. “You have some really impressive cars, my love. Which one is your favorite?” Carlos asked, gently stroking Cael's hair.
Quickly, Cael rummages through his bag to find his favorite car. “This one, Papa. I have many favorites. But recently, mine’s this LaFerrari. Uncle Charles gave it to me when he won a podium.” Carlos smiled at the way he pronounced LaFerrari, with an emphasis on the 'r' sound. “Wow, you also have a LaFerrari? What do you like about it?” Carlos asked, pleased that Cael was so assertive and easy to converse with.
“It's incredibly fast, Papa. And Uncle Charles said it uses electric hybrid power. I don't really know what that means, but 'hybrid' plus 'power' sounds cool to me,” Cael replied, causing Carlos to chuckle at his innocence.
From the doorway, you've been watching your boys talk about cars. They've been inseparable since the afternoon. Clearing your throat to catch their attention, you ask, “It's already time for dinner. What do you want to eat?”
Carlos turned to Cael, “Baby, what do you want to eat?”
“Anything delicious, Papa. Something without pistachios,” Cael responded, causing Carlos to laugh as he recalled Cael's reaction to pistachio ice cream. “Okay, anything delicious without pistachio coming right up,” Carlos said, lifting Cael, who giggled in response.
“Let me cook for you two,” Carlos suggested as he passed you, heading for the kitchen. “Okay. Thanks, I guess,” you replied, following them downstairs.
In the kitchen, Carlos handed Cael back to you and began to prepare the meal. “Your fridge is well-stocked for someone just on vacation here,” he commented. “Does Cael have any food allergies?” he asked you.
“No, luckily he doesn’t have any food allergies,” you replied.
“Not even strawberries?” Carlos asked, aware of your own allergy.
“No, he is not allergic to strawberries,” you confirmed.
While Carlos cooked, you and Cael played at the counter. Carlos would occasionally glance over, smiling at the domestic scene.
“Why am I getting so many kisses from you, Sebastian Cael?” you asked, amused by your son's affectionate nature.
“You did nothing, Mama. I just love you,” he replied.
“Can I get kisses too?” Carlos interjected, also wanting some affection.
“Of course, Papa,” Cael said, giving him a peck on the cheek. “I love you, Mama. I love you, Papa,” he added, hugging both of you.
You enjoyed the hug but felt uncomfortable with the close proximity to Carlos. As you were about to point out the food spilling from the pot, Carlos noticed and rushed to the stove, causing both you and Cael to laugh.
After dinner, you took care of the dishes while the boys continued their playtime until well past 10 pm.
"Carlos, I think it's time for you to go. It's already past ten, and Cael needs to sleep. You should get some rest too," you said. Carlos looked at you, surprised at how time had flown.
"No, Mama," Cael instantly clung to Carlos when he heard talk of bedtime. "Baby, it's already past your bedtime. You need rest. Papa needs to rest too," you tried to convince your son.
Carlos attempted to gently remove Cael’s hand from his neck. "Papa, no! Don't leave, Papa," Cael protested, starting to cry. Tears blurred your vision as you felt a pang of sympathy for him. Carlos returned your gaze, his own eyes brimming with tears.
"Papa, please stay," Cael begged. Carlos comforted his son, trying to explain the situation. "Oh baby, as much as I want to stay, Papa has to go to prepare for the upcoming race," Carlos told the still sobbing Cael.
“Aww baby,” Carlos said, wiping away his tears. You approached them, gently rubbing Cael's back. “Cael, look at Papa. I have to go tonight, but I promise I'll fetch you on Sunday and take you to the paddock to watch me race. I'll even let you ride in Papa’s Formula 1 car. Is that okay, my love?” Carlos proposed, hoping to appease his son.
Cael, still sniffing and sobbing, managed to nod. “Stop crying, baby. Papa has already agreed to let you watch his race. We'll go to the paddock, okay? You'll watch him race in the Ferrari garage, honey,” you added.
Slowly calming down, Cael agreed to come with you. “Bye, Papa. Drive safely,” he said, kissing Carlos goodbye. “Thank you, baby. Papa will see you on Sunday, okay? Be a good boy for Mama, hmm?” Carlos said, ruffling his son's hair. Cael gave a small nod in response.
“Thanks, Y/N,” Carlos said to you, receiving a nod and a smile in return. “Drive home safely, Carlos,” you reminded him before walking him to his car with your son. Carlos kissed Cael on the cheek and, without thinking, kissed your temple before entering the car. You didn't have time to react as you were holding Cael, but your cheeks flushed at the unexpected gesture.
Carlos arrived home, grinning as he headed to his room. He couldn't shake off his smile; the upcoming practice race didn't even cross his mind. He was merely thrilled about the day he had spent with you and Cael. Unexpectedly, he found his father standing in the corner of his room.
"Dios Mio, Papa, what are you doing there?" Carlos asked, startled.
His father replied with a raised eyebrow, "You've been humming and smiling like a teenager since you got here, Carlos. What's going on?"
Carlos continued to smile at his father, responding, "Nothing, Papa. I'm just happy."
His father squinted at him, pressing for an answer. "Are you drunk or on drugs?"
"No, Papa, I'm completely sober. I'm not on drugs either. Something really special just happened today," Carlos began.
His father interjected, "Did you sign a new contract?"
"That would be nice, Papa. But something even more special happened," Carlos said, pausing for effect. "I met my son!"
His father put his hand on his forehead, "You're on drugs. I'm sure of it."
"Papa, no. I'm telling the truth," Carlos said, showing him his phone wallpaper. It was a picture of you and Cael, smiling at each other in the kitchen.
"Wait, is that Y/N? You and Y/n have a son? When did you get back together?" his father asked, forehead furrowed in confusion.
"We're not together yet, Papa. But, we do have a son and today, I finally introduced myself to our son and spent time with him," Carlos explained.
"So you're telling me I have a grandson?" his father asked for confirmation.
"Yes, Papa. His name is Sebastian Cael Sainz. But, please don't tell Mama yet. I want to tell her myself, or maybe even surprise her with Cael," Carlos requested.
"Well, I can't tell her now. She's already asleep," his father replied. Carlos chuckled at this.
"So when can I meet our little Sainz?" his father asked.
Carlos' Wallpaper
AN: I was also sobbing while writing the part where Carlos has to go home. I hope you like this part. Let me know your thoughts or if you wanna be added to the taglist. Thank y'all!
TAGLIST:
@seasonswinter @charizznorizz @itsjustkhaos @celesteablack @timmychalametsstuff @viennakarma @i-love-ptv @evie-119 @somepeoplemaybe @amberpanda99 @gotthatname @karlossainz @khaylin27 @hc-dutch @avengers-assemble123456 @likedbygaslyy @xoscar03 @yukiotadako @barcelonaloverf1life @heyheyheyggg @sunny44 @mxdi0 @casperlikej @ironmaiden1313 @biitch-with-wifi @elia-the-bibliophile @nataliazzzz @bernelflo @lillunna @loloekie @jinimon-tr @glai1023-blog @not-nyasa @jolixtreesunn @changetyre @thatsusbitch @distancedss @miarabanana @voidsfics @jasminesacademia @glow-ish @ccallistata @carpediem241108 @thearchieves @kenzeyeballs @formula1simp @dessxoxsworld @hoeforsirius @norwayxo
#f1 x reader#f1 x you#formula 1 x reader#formula one x you#carlos sainz x reader#carlos sainz x y/n#carlos sainz x you#carlos sainz#afterfiveyears#f1 imagines
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Sharing Is Caring ꨄ (part 3/3)
[ { Synopsis } ] ➤ You'll never accuse your boyfriend Choso of being too jealous of a lover after he reveals to you he has absolutely no problems with sharing you... (part one) (part two)
[ { Need to know } ] ➤This is a What-If scenario that stems from my fic; The F*ck List— A tale in which Gojo Satoru blackmails you into seducing a list of people to clear his debt.
[ { Content & Warning } ] ➤ f!reader, language, threesome, dirty talk, tw; possible men smooching, rough & semi-soft sex, choking, praise, degrading, etc.
[ { Parings } ] ➤ Choso x f!reader & Gojo x f!reader.
[ { Word Count } ] ➤ 6.8k (this entire thing is so long & I am no longer the same woman I was before I wrote this)
The two men don't think they've ever moved faster to do something in their lives. Gojo was scooping you up into his arms in the blink of an eye and Choso was rushing to clean the mess you'd made of his couch.
They were both oddly in sync, seeming to have had the same thought process of what they were about to do with you and how. Choso stayed where he was to clean up a bit and Gojo was carrying you off in the direction of Choso's bedroom.
He was carrying you bridal style and your eyes were all wide and up on his pretty face. You couldn't read his expression very well and you're not sure if that's because you were too fucked out to do so or if it was because you were just distracted by his features.
It's been so long since you'd been this close to Gojo, you nearly forgot how angelic his features are-- even when he's about to ruin you. Gojo catches onto your staring and glances down at you for a moment as he makes a turn, letting out a soft scoff in reaction to you.
"Why're you lookin' at me like that?" He hums before lifting his gaze and peering down the hallway ahead of him. He had no idea where he was going but he'd soon figure it out.
You tilt your head and smile a little, "Third door on your left, 'Toru." You instruct, to which blush spreads across his face as he clears his throat.
"Yeah, I knew that..." Gojo pouts a little and you can't help but find him cute while he continues his little walk, "But you didn't answer my question."
"I'm not looking at you any kinda' way, am I?" You ask with an innocent bat of your lashes.
Gojo makes it to Choso's bedroom and he's quick to walk in and kick the door almost shut behind him as he does so. You wonder why he tried to close the door for a second but you don't get much time to ponder on it as Gojo b-lines for the bed and lays you on it.
Then he's hovering over you, his eyes low on yours, and this look of pure desire washing over his face, "You're giving me that needy lil' look," He explains, "Like you want me to hurry up and fuck you."
You shrug, "Maybe I do."
"You don't wanna wait on your boyfriend?" Gojo asks. He's taunting you now. It's so very obvious with the way the corners of his lips curve into a smirk.
You swallow hard and don't answer for a moment. The two of you just gaze at one another for a long while, Gojo steadily inching down toward you and tilting his head opposite of yours.
His larger body was in between your legs so it's no surprise that you feel his cock brush against you as he gets closer. What is somewhat surprising is how wet his tip is as it brushes over your skin.
Then Gojo's lips are less than an inch away from yours, "Hm? Answer me."
You blink, "He's taking too long," You murmur in response with a slight pout. Lifting an arm and wrapping it around Gojo to pull him impossibly closer, you whisper right against his mouth, "Why wait when you could just fuck me right now? You know you want to."
Gojo's not sure he's ever had this much restraint in his life. Especially not when you sneak a hand down in between your bodies and grab a light hold of his leaky cock just to try and align him with yourself.
Your lips and his were right against each other but you two weren't kissing, simply breathing each other in, staring so longingly for one another. Hell, you might've been too into this because you genuinely forgot about Choso for a moment.
Then Gojo's pushing his hips down into you ever so slightly and his hard and flushed cock is just pushing against your cunt, begging and aching to enter you.
"You're so lucky you aren't mine," Gojo whispers, shifting to kiss only your lower lip before he repositions slightly and moves your hand away from his dick only to grab ahold of himself and tease you by dragging his tip in between your folds, "I'd lock the door and force Choso to listen to me fuck you senseless."
You grin, "What's stopping you? That's probably what he wants anyway..."
Gojo smiles, "What happened to you being nervous about cheating on him?"
"It's not cheating if he wants me to do it, right?" You hum.
A sight leaves Gojo's lips and he starts pushing only an inch of his cock inside you, feeling the way your legs move to wrap around his waist and how your pussy tries to suck him in deeper.
He's then shaking his head, "Thought' you wanted us both?"
"He can join later," You breathe out, your voice airier than before, "J-Just put it in Satoru."
Gojo draws his hips back and you let off a whine. Then he moves to tap his cock against your cunt, listening to how wet and lewd the little smack is, "Want' me that bad, huh?"
You nod, "Mhm..."
"Beg for me," Gojo utters, "If you want me to fuck you so badly and you just can't wait for your boyfriend," He's leaning into your lips again and speaks against you in such a messy way, "Beg for me."
"P-Please?" You whimper, feeling his cock nudge into you again but only an inch, "Fuck, Satoru please?"
"Please what?" He sneers and this time he's pushing another inch in, making you moan slightly.
"Just fuck me," Your words come out in a desperate little whimper and it drives the man crazy.
Gojo lifts his face up and slightly away from yours and pouts, "Just fuck me," He mocks, to which heat rushes to your face and you turn your head to the side, "So fuckin' needy," He groans as he finally starts pushing his cock inside you.
Truth be told, he couldn't wait either. Not when he had you to himself for a second, not when you were looking at him so longingly, and not when your cunt just squeezes around his shaft as he enters you.
It was like you wanted to push him away and yet suck him all the way in at the same time. You were so perfect. Gojo couldn't help but stare at the way your eyes flicker as he gets about halfway in-- you were too damn cute.
All that whining moments ago just for you to start struggling already. And to think you're supposed to be able to handle both him and Choso?
Gojo starts snickering, "Fuck, you're adorable," He says as he flashes a smile at you.
You glance out of the corner of your eye and furrow your brows as he continues pushing in-, fuck how much more does he have to go?
The man tilts his head at you and inclines down again, "Face me, sweetheart," He says, "I wanna watch the way your face twists up when I'm all the way in."
You swallow and slowly turn your head to him, your lips grazing his as you do so.
Then Gojo bites his lower lips, "Good girl," He praises, earning a whine from you. And that's all it takes for him to shallowly thrust the remaining inches of his cock into you.
Oh how he loves watching your entire facial expression change. Eyes rolling, jaw-dropping a bit, lips parted, and a sexy moan leaving your throat. Gojo pretty much forgets what the hell he's supposed to be doing at that point.
Because then he's pulling back out and thrusting deeper in, his hips crashing into yours and another moan, this time of his name, pouring out your mouth. Yeah, how did he get here again? What-, no who was he supposed to be waiting on?
Ah, he couldn't remember. Not now at least, not when your arms and legs are moving to wrap around him comfortably. And goddamn the way your pussy squelches around his dick, so loud and messy for him and he's barely even worked up a pace yet.
He'd fix that relatively quickly though, allowing you a few thrusts to get used to him before he can't take it anymore.
Gojo's eyes bore down into yours and he drinks in your face while he starts drilling himself into your tight hole. Then he's talking, "Fuuck, y'like that? Like' bein' an impatient lil' slut and gettin' dicked down without your boyfriend, huh?"
God, you hated his mouth. Or at least, you think you do. "M-Mmgh, Satoru-"
"What's he gonna think when he walks in, hm?" Gojo taunts, shifting to angle his hips differently and fuck into that one mushy spot inside you. Then he scoffs, "Actually, moan a lil' louder so he can hear ya'."
You bite your lower lip on purpose to keep your sounds in and then shake your head no.
Gojo scoffs, "No? Fuck you mean no?" He grunts, his voice getting so low as your brattiness ticks him off. Then he moves a hand to your face, grabbing a rough hold of your chin and moving his thumb to pry your lips apart, "Let your boyfriend hear how impatient you are," He huffs out.
"Fuuck-, S'toru p-please," You whimper, a slight bit of drool leaving the corner of your mouth.
He smirks, "Goddamn brat," The tip of Gojo's cock is just hitting deeper and deeper and deeper, "Tellin' me no," He huffs, "The hell has gotten into you, huh?"
You whine again, "M'sorryy... mmmh, hahh-, ahh..."
He tips his head to the opposite side, "M'sorrryyyy, she says. Please fuck me, Toru, she begged. Aaand yet here you are; fuckin' whining," Gojo mocks you as he just buries his dick as far in as he can go.
It felt like he was tearing you apart. His hips were so mean and brutal against yours, never giving you a chance to properly breathe before he's drilling into that spot that makes you see stars. You couldn't even think straight anymore unless he was talking to you and even then his words only made your situation worse.
Hell, you were cumming around his cock before you even realized it.
"Ohh, look at thaaat," Gojo huffs out, "Now she's creamin' on me-, fuuck..."
A shaky hand moves and tries to go to his mouth because fuck you just needed a second to breathe, to process what was happening, and to shut him up. But of course, Gojo just grabs your wrist and then pins it up over your head.
"Tryna shut me up?" Gojo snickers, "Why, pretty girl? Am I not makin' you feel good?" He whispers.
The heavy smack of his balls to your ass echo throughout the room, the loud and sloppy sounds of his harsh thrusts heard everywhere. In and out and in and out, Gojo wasn't slowing down for even one moment. He was damn there pussydrunk already.
By this point his mouth had a mind of its own and his hips wouldn't stop ramming into you. His soaked tip hit yet another spot that had your breath leaving your throat over and over and over again.
"F-Fuck-, oh fuck-," You gasp, eyes widening as your back arches up into him a bit, your chest flush with his as he then rolls his hips down into you to really dig into that very spot, "Oh my g-god- fuuuck, 'Toru p-please."
Gojo moves his free hand and trails down along your body until he feels the prominent outline of his cock inside you. Then he smirks just as he presses down on it, "Yeah? Feel' me right there, huh?" He whispers sensually.
His voice drove you insane and it's just perfect that he simply never stops talking.
And of course he moves over to whisper in your ear as he pounds into that spot of yours, feeling your walls clamp and clamp around his cock, "Forgot allll about your lil' boyfriend, didn't ya?" He taunts, making you let out such a whiney moan in response, "He's gonna walk in any second now 'nd catch you makin' a mess all over my cock."
You unintentionally squeeze around him and Gojo moans before his hand dips lower down and his thumb makes a messy connection with your clit, the initial contact making your entire body jolt and your legs clamp up, "F-Fuu-uck-, p-please-, please... hahhh," You're not sure what you were begging for but it's all you could say as his thumb circles your no-so-forgotten clit so tortuously slow.
Gojo kisses the crown of your ear softly and his thumb continues to draw tiny little shapes around your clit despite the rough thrusts into your pussy. Your cunt was spasming around his cock, twitching and throbbing all around him and making him groan at the way you squirm.
"C'monnn, y'know what I want," Gojo utters, his words caressing your ear so softly, "Cum f'me, sweets. Squirt on my fuckin' cock," He pleads, voice deep yet desperate with you, "Lemme prove your boyfriend wrong."
"Hahhh, S-Sa-, mmmgh-, Satoru," You whine out, voice slurred as you feel that sensation building up in your core again.
Gojo's eager for it so his pace grows a bit animalistic, sloppy even. So badly did he want to experience you squirting because of him, not your boyfriend. Choso's little comment from earlier still has Gojo upset so, he's taking it out on your poor overstimulated cunt.
All whilst he's whispering into your ear, "Fuuck, c'monn. Give it to me," He groans, "Fuckin' give it to me, sweetheart," Gojo's blurting out whatever comes to mind as all rational thoughts fade from his mind, "Y'know I'm fucking you better than he does anyway."
And with that, it happens.
Well, not you squirting again but your boyfriend walking in. Neither you nor Gojo realized until Choso huffed out a scoff, "Not like that, no you aren't." He comments in response to Gojo.
Maybe it was the shock from hearing Choso's voice, or perhaps it was the way Gojo thrust in balls deep as he too was shocked but either way, you do experience another leg-shaking orgasm.
As you do so, you're letting out a moan and you feel like you're about to pass out. You came a lot but, you didn't squirt— which ultimately leaves Gojo disappointed.
His lengthy cock is still buried into the hilt of your pussy but he stops moving at the sound of Choso’s voice. His breath is felt against your ear before Gojo grits his teeth a little— he knows he was close to getting what he wanted.
Then Gojo sighs and leans up, not daring to pull out of you yet as he sits back on his heels and pulls your hips along with him. It’s like he didn’t want to separate from you at all.
Turning his head back, he spots Choso standing at the doorway, leaning against the doorframe with his eyes low and on the lewd scene before him. The two men lock eyes before Choso shakes his head.
Gojo frowns as he finally processes what the hell he’d said to him, “What do you mean not like that, no I’m not?” Gojo huffs, “Had you not come in here, she would’ve wet me up like I wanted.”
Choso scoffs, “Yeah? Think so?” He taunts.
“I know so,” Gojo argues, eyes narrowing at the dark-haired man, “I felt it.”
“Uhuh,” Choso chastises, smirking a bit as he crosses his arms over his chest, “And what ruined that, me?”
“Yeah.” Gojo huffs.
“Aw,” Choso frowns, mocking Gojo’s expression as he pushes off the doorframe and slowly walks toward you two, “You’ mad cause you can’t make my girlfriend squirt?”
“I can,” Gojo emphasizes, “You just ruined the moment.”
“No one told you to stop,” Your boyfriend argues.
Gojo’s fingers are gently tracing indescribable shapes on your hips as your cunt keeps his cock nice and warm, “No one told you to come in here.” He fires back to your partner.
Choso raises a brow, “No one told you needy lil’ sluts to start fuckin’ without me.”
Gojo’s cock twitches inside you, “I’m not the needy one. Your girl here was the one beggin’ for my-“
“You told me to,” You mumble.
The man doesn’t even look down at you. Instead, all Gojo does is move a hand and squat his thumb over your clit again, making you jolt as you take that as his way of telling you to be quiet.
“Pretty girl couldn’t keep her hands off me, what was I supposed to do?” Gojo says as your back arches a little and your hips roll upward for more friction.
Choso couldn’t exactly see you too well yet but it was pretty obvious what Gojo was doing and he could hear the gentle whines you released. “Wait,” Choso says, “You were supposed to wait.”
A groan leaves Gojo’s lips and he rolls his eyes before turning his head away from your boyfriend and down to you, his eyes softening as soon as they land on the way you’re looking up at him. You had a hand trying to reach down and push his finger away from your clit but you were struggling— adorable, Gojo thought to himself.
“How could I possibly keep this,” His hips roll into yours and you moan, “Waiting?” Gojo questions.
“Toru,” You hum with a pout on your face.
He smiles and tilts his head at you, “Hm? That’ feel good?” He coos, his thumb shifting a little and pushing against your clit before he swats at it again. You nod in response and he continues his motions.
Choso rolls his eyes at you two. Despite the attitude he was putting on, he can’t deny how painfully hard he’s been. Even as he was cleaning the mess in the living room moments ago, he could hear you and Gojo going at it so he knew what was happening.
And when he had walked in and saw the way your cunt stretched around Gojo’s veiny cock, he couldn’t help but stare. Choso had to swallow hard at the sight because it made his dick throb wildly.
He was actually just watching for a bit before he even said something, his hand groping his erection at the sight before he couldn’t take it anymore.
All of which leads to now as he approaches the bed and you and him finally catch sight of one another.
Choso tips his head to the side as your eyes lay on his, “Look at youuu,” He murmurs, “Havin’ fun gettin’ fucked by someone else, huh?”
You frown, “N-No,” Gojo suddenly spits down on your clit and your body twitches as you talk to your boyfriend, “W-Want you too, Cho….”
He smiles, “Do you? Y’look like you’re havin’ a great time without me.”
It’s so sexy how you reach a hand out in his direction and whine for him, “P-Please, Choso?”
“You’re so cute when you beg for me, baby. How could I ever say no to ya’?” Choso comments with a smile on his face while he moves to get on the bed.
You and him forget Gojo’s there for a moment as Choso makes his way closer to you and then leans down to your face, his eyes gazing so intently into yours.
You try lifting your face to his to close the distance and kiss him but he leans up a little, “You want a kiss?” Choso teases.
You nod, “Uhuh.”
His hand carefully moves to grab a gentle and loving hold of your face, completely forgetting that he earlier said he was gonna put you in your place— Choso can’t even think of that right now when you look so fucked out and gaze up into his eyes so lovingly.
He sighs and leans down to you again, “Promise me somethin’ first.”
You bat your lashes at him and your eyes widen a little, “…Okay.”
All while Gojo’s sulking as he watches you two converse so intimately and just leave him out. As if to insert himself, despite his cock literally resting deep inside you, he spits on his thumb and rubs against your clit gently just to make your conversation a bit more difficult for you.
A breathy sound leaves your lips and Choso smirks, whispering to you so that Gojo can’t hear, “Stroke his ego a lil’ bit f’me, okay?” Choso instructs before placing a soft peck onto your lips.
You hum and then furrow your brows a bit as he pulls away.
“Make him feel good, baby” Choso hints and you think you get the idea of what he wants you to do.
Then he presses his lips into yours and carefully makes out with you. Ah Choso couldn’t help but forget why he was ever even upset with you. Why’d he call Gojo over again? What was all this for?
He was mad at you about something, right?
Oh who cares, all he wants now is to watch you lose your mind more than you already have as you get pleased by two men. And, he can’t deny he is a bit excited to taunt you with the help of Gojo— he makes things entertaining.
So he gets a little lost in kissing you, having not felt your lips on his in what felt like an eternity. Choso’s not even thinking straight as he groans against your lips and shoves his tongue into your mouth where it oh so rightfully belongs.
And he’s thriving in doing so up until you move a hand down and start reaching for him, your fingers grazing his waistline and making him moan into your mouth.
Your lips curve into a smile and you hum as he shifts so that you can reach him properly, your fingers sliding to grab ahold of his cock through his clothing and making him moan filthily against you.
His hips instantly push into your hand as your fingers cup his length. Choso pries himself off your lips for a split second, “Fuck, I missed kissin’ you s’much,” He grunts into your mouth.
You grin, “M’sorry, I m-missed you too baby,” You murmur against him.
Choso lets out the sweetest little whine as that nickname hits his ears and he had half a mind to just kick Gojo out of the situation entirely and make love to you.
Pulling away from your lips with a slight smile on his face, Choso huffs, “You have no idea what you do t’me, do you?”
You give him a cheeky little smile, “I do.”
Gojo suddenly clears his throat, “…Am I interrupting something?” He teases.
You and Choso look at him in sync and scoff at him.
You then roll your eyes, “Yes.”
“No,” Choso corrects, glancing at you once more to tell you to behave yourself through his gaze before looking to Gojo again, “You’re not.” Then Choso cocks his head to the side, “What, did you want a kiss too?”
Gojo’s got this little pout on his face after being left ignored for so long even though his cock had been sitting inside you all this time. He’d felt you clench and twitch around him numerous times ever since Choso walked in.
So, playfully, he shrugs, “Maybe.”
Choso rolls his eyes for a moment before he sits up, “Y’know, I was gonna say no buut, I have an idea.”
A very faint shade of red flushes over Gojo’s face as he blinks. Choso was considering his answer? He’s gonna kiss him? Why? What-
“If you can make my girl squirt,” Choso starts, cutting Gojo’s thoughts off, “I’ll give you a kiss…….. if that’s actually what you want, of course-“
“Okay,” Gojo breathes out and the two make eye contact.
Gojo looked all too excited and Choso couldn’t tell if it was to kiss him or make you squirt but either way— it was kinda cute.
Your boyfriend smiles briefly before looking down at you and nodding his chin toward you, “Remember what I said,” He hums.
You nod before looking at Gojo and then moving to sit up a little, holding yourself up on your elbows. Gojo meets your gaze and for a moment, he’s not even sure where to begin.
Choso chuckles at the two of you before he says your name and you look at him, “C’mere,” He directs, watching the way your eyes light up as he stands on his knees.
You’re quick to wiggle yourself away from Gojo, who lets off a whine as his cock slips out of you. The sound catches your boyfriend’s ears and he shakes his head.
“Relax,” Choso says to Gojo, “You’ll get to feel her again in a second.”
Gojo frowns and simply sits on his heels as he then watches you move to crawl over to your boyfriend, your legs wobbly and thighs wet from all activities done thus far. Then Gojo’s staring at your cunt and he starts to get the idea of what’s about to happen.
You hastily get to your boyfriend and just as he opens his mouth to say something, your hands are at his hips and your lips are making sudden contact with his lower abdomen. Choso swallows thickly as he stares down at you, moving his palm over your head of hair and smiling at you.
“Hahh,” Choso breathes out, “Eager, are we?” He taunts.
Your gaze flicks up to him for a moment as you kiss lower and your fingers slip beneath his pants. Then you’re tugging them down and moving to pull his cock out, your eyes going a bit wide as you see how painfully hard he was.
Choso’s cock was throbbing and twitching like crazy, so much so that it made your mouth water. You start to move your lips toward him but he pushes your head away a little.
Frowning, you glance up at him again and your boyfriend smiles down at you. Taking his cock into his free hand, he moves to tap his tip against your lower lip as he speaks, “Take care of our guest first, princess.” Choso hums.
You whine before angling your head back to make eye contact with a very pouty and slightly forgotten Gojo. With a sigh, you part your legs and reach a hand back to spread yourself invitingly.
Gojo bats his eyelashes at you, “Is that supposed to be an invitation, sweets?” He teases as a smile starts to spread on his face, cock dripping at the sight of you.
You nod your head, “Mhm…”
“You want me inside you again?” Gojo asks while he begins to move toward you, already knowing the answer to his question.
“Obviously,” You huff out, your gaze rushing him.
He takes his time anyway until he’s finally behind you, quickly aligning his tip with your messy folds and rubbing himself against you, “Thought I fixed that attitude of yours already?” Gojo says with a scoff.
Purposefully, you roll your eyes and start to face forward again, glancing up at Choso afterward.
“Baby,” Choso coos, his brows furrowing a bit, “Go ahead ‘nd arch your back, show him what you do f’me,” He utters softly.
You frown but do so anyway, the curve in your back making Gojo swallow hard as he takes in your form. “Damn,” He breathes, shifting a hand to palm your ass, “This is perfect.”
Choso can’t help but smile proudly because of you, “I know right? We gotta reward her for that, don’t we?”
Gojo nods his head but his eyes are stuck on how you’re trying to wiggle your hips back onto him, “Yeahhh, she’s so needy f’us too.”
Meanwhile, you’re also moving your mouth forward and pressing your lips into Choso’s aching tip— watching how his entire body tenses up and he flinches before looking down at you.
“S-So fuckin’ needy,” He unintentionally stammers. Then he moves one of his hands to your chin and opens your mouth for himself, “Nice ‘nd wide f’me, baby.” Choso instructs.
Naturally, you listen, dropping your jaw and even sticking your tongue out for your boyfriend as he carefully pushes his hips forward.
All while Gojo’s still teasing your cunt by rubbing his tip all in between your folds and even purposefully pushing his cock past your pussy wetting his shaft up with your slick.
Gojo’s hands then slide up along your body until he grabs onto your waist, still admiring that arch of yours before he finally rolls his hips forward and pushes his cock back into you. A moan leaves your throat immediately but the sound is muffled by Choso stuffing your mouth full of his cock.
Your boyfriend lets out a deep and guttural groan at both the feeling of your wet mouth around him and the way you moan against him. Then there’s Gojo who moans as he finds himself buried into the hilt of your tight cunt again.
Gojo swears you got tighter than before because he barely even realizes he has to move for a minute as he just sits there submerged in your pussy— feeling your walls clamp and clamp and clamp around him just because you’ve got two cocks inside you.
“Fuuuck,” Gojo whines a little, his head tipping back as you squeeze around him so perfectly.
While Gojo’s busy… adjusting to your pussy sucking the soul out of him, Choso’s in front of you easing his cock in and out of your mouth.
As he does so, you’re flicking your tongue against that one sensitive vein he has trailing along his shaft and the sensation makes your boyfriend moan above you. The sound stirs Gojo out of his trance and he blinks back into reality.
Glancing up, he pulls his hips back before rolling them forward so very slowly just to match the pace at which your boyfriend was going. And of course, you moan at how in sync they are, feeling Gojo’s tip kiss your cervix as Choso’s cock dips deeper into your throat.
All your moans were muffled against Choso and he groans just about every time he feels your warm mouth vibrating against him. Then there was every time he pulled himself back, your tongue would twirl around his tip so sloppily that he couldn’t even take his eyes off you.
Then suddenly Gojo’s pelvis snaps into you, the harsh thrust making you whimper while Choso’s dick slips right back into your mouth. Your boyfriend’s hand then finds its place on your head to hold you steady as he ups his own pace, biting his lower lip at how good your mouth feels.
“Shiit,” Choso whines and you feel him twitch against your tongue, “Makin’ me feel so fuckin’ good, princess.” You hum against him and he flashes a lazy smile down at you, his eyes low and breath heavy, “Enjoyin’ this, huh?”
Sloppily, you nod and then there’s a sudden jerk forward of your body as Gojo grabs onto your hips and snaps his own into you yet again. Your eyes flicker and you moan yet again.
Then Gojo lands a hand on your ass, smacking you harshly as he grows a bit rough, “Course’ she likes this shit,” He suddenly groans out, “Pussy won’t stop squeezin’ me,” He hums with a heavy pant.
Choso feels you suck on his cock a bit more eagerly and he starts thrusting in and out a bit faster as if to match how needy your mouth was moving against him, “Yeah?” He huffs out to Gojo, “Well,” Choso tilts his head and lifts his gaze to Gojo, “Looks like you’re strugglin’ over there.”
Gojo’s brows push together and he pants, “Shut up,” He grunts as he shifts to fuck into your sweet spot, feeling how heavenly your cunt throbs around him and listening to the wet squelch that emits from your hole every time he pushes in.
Your boyfriend feels you gag a little and he eases his hips back but doesn’t look down at you just yet— keeping his eyes on Gojo who’s definitely losing his mind right now.
His hair was wet with sweat, messy white locks sticking to his forehead and sweat dripping down along his body. Choso thinks he’s jealous of this guy’s physique as he stares at him, watching how aggressively he beats his hips into you— his slutty lil’ girlfriend.
Gojo’s eyes suddenly flicker and Choso’s feels you moan. The white-haired man then whines, “S-Shit, m’gonna-, fuuck… m’gonna cum-,”
Choso’s fingers suddenly curl into your hair and he grips onto you a bit tighter as he ruts his hips into you, your nose meeting his pelvis with his every thrust as he mindlessly fucks your throat.
“Yeahhh, I can tell….” Choso blurts out, his face instantly going red as Gojo locks eyes with him and raises a brow.
Gojo, never being one to back down from some harmless teasing, rolls his hips into you and huffs, “Oh can you now?” He sighs, cracking a half-smile at the man.
The red in Choso’s face deepens before he shifts his gaze down to you, “Fuck off ‘nd focus on makin’ my girlfriend squirt.”
Gojo grunts a little as you squeeze around him, “Kinda hard t’do that when you’re starin’ at me, y’know.”
“You liked it,” Choso argues back thoughtlessly.
Now it’s Gojo’s face that was brightening up, his eyes widening as he opens his mouth to argue back. Unfortunately for him, you suddenly pull your mouth off of your boyfriend and shift to lift yourself up and grab ahold of Choso’s jaw.
Your boyfriend bats his eyelashes at you as you toss one arm around him and hold his face close to yours whilst Gojo continues thrusting into you.
“S-Stop flirting with him, it’s annoying,” You huff out, your voice slurred as you moan in between your words.
Choso blinks, “I wasn’t-, wait… baby, were you gettin’ jealous?” He coos.
Gojo shifts behind you, leaning his body forward and wrapping one arm around your waist before trailing his hand down. His fingers roll over your clit and your body twitches as his lips suddenly press into the side of your neck.
You were being sandwiched by the two at this point but you weren’t complaining at all.
“Scared m’gonna steal your boyfriend from ya’?” Gojo taunts in a low whisper.
Your brows furrow and you remove your hand from Choso’s jaw, dropping it to wrap your fingers around his cock possessively, “No… he knows who he…. mmgh-, b-belongs to,” You huff out as you stare into your boyfriend’s eyes.
Choso chokes at the sound of that and to make it even worse for him, Gojo peers over your shoulder, and all three of you are all too close to one another.
His hips push into your touch and he whimpers, “Y-Yeahh, yeah I do,” Choso sighs out, nodding his head in agreement to your words.
And then your lips are on his and the two of you are a moaning mess against one another, Gojo moving to sink his teeth into your shoulder just to never once feel left out. He bites down hard enough to leave a mark and then Choso moves a hand in between you and him just to reach up and grab ahold of your neck.
Their touch was everywhere at this point, large hands all over your body that it was making you dizzy. Choso’s fingers tighten around your throat, Gojo swats at your clit again as his cock bullies your insides, and then there’s his other hand at your waist, holding onto you for dear life whilst his tongue swivels over the area he’d bit.
Your hand was busy jerking Choso off and the bedroom was filled with such sloppy and filthy sounds of sex. You and Choso were whining into each other and Gojo was grunting near your ear.
Then, similar to earlier, he’s talking into your ear, “Takin’ me so well, sweetheart,” Gojo groans, “Fuuck, m’gonna cum inside ya’ if you keep squeezin’ like that.”
Choso suddenly pulls off your lips and you whine. Then your boyfriend glances at Gojo, whose face is closer than he expected, “Y-You’re gonna do what?” Choso questions.
All three of you were more than fucked out by this point but Choso’s ears twitched at the sound of Gojo saying he was gonna release inside you.
Gojo smirks, “What? I can’t cum inside your girlfriend? C’monnnn, don’t be mean,” He teases with a little pout on his face.
Your head drops into the crook of Choso’s neck, his hand falling off you as you do so, and his face gets even closer to Gojo’s because of it— the two nearly sharing breaths by this point.
“M’not bein-,” Your hand tightens around Choso’s shaft and his eyes nearly roll back, “S-Shit-, m’not bein’ mean, y-you can’t-“
“Please?” Gojo whispers, his eyes lowering and his face shifting into something needy, “Lemme cum inside her, p-please? She feels so fuckin’ good… I gotta-, agh-, f-fill her up,” Gojo moans out.
Both men are struggling with their words due to you. Then, your hand begins to slide along Choso’s cock a bit faster than expected and you take a peek down just to realize he was cumming.
“Oh fuck-,” You whine at the sight, “Choso,” You moan.
Gojo lets out a loud groan and he starts drilling into you a bit sloppier than before, his sanity waning as his orgasm approaches, “Please,” He begs, “P-Please? Fuuck, I can beg all day, man. Please-“
And suddenly, Choso’s leaning in and grunting into his mouth, “Okay,” He hums as he suddenly acts on impulse and kisses Gojo.
Your body was being completely squished between the two and with each of Gojo’s mind-numbing thrusts, your body just presses into Choso’s. The tip of Gojo’s cock is digging and digging and digging deeper inside you, making your eyes water with how hard he was fucking you all because of Choso suddenly kissing him.
And the two had the nerve to be loud with it too, lips sliding over each other so messily as they kissed each other without second thought.
You believe you were too out of it to even process the fact that your boyfriend was making out with Gojo because then you’re experiencing that mind-boggling sensation again, gummy walls suffocating Gojo’s cock as your body jerks and twitches in between the two.
Then, all at once, you’re seeing blissful sparks of white in your vision, making a filthy mess in between the two as Gojo’s cock slips out of you and you squirt yet again. Choso’s hands move to hold your body tenderly as you start to fall over a bit and then his mouth pops off of Gojo’s.
“Fuck,” The two breathe out in unison.
Gojo’s eyes are down on the lewd mess you just made and he notices his cum leaking out your cunt— wondering to himself when it even happened? One minute he was begging Choso to cum inside you and the next…
The next he was kissing him…
Meanwhile Choso’s dazed as he shifts to get a good look at your face.
You think you were a bit lightheaded, lashes fluttering so softly as you pant heavily trying to catch your breath. Your eyes just barely meet Choso’s and he smiles at you.
“You okay?” Choso murmurs. You frown and shake your head. “Tired already?” Your boyfriend continues, then you nod and he moves to kiss your forehead, “S’okay, baby. You did s’good for us.”
Gojo’s behind you moving to wipe the sweat off his forehead, “Too damn good…” He comments.
Your eyes narrow at your boyfriend and your voice is hoarse again, “…You kissed… him.”
Choso’s face flushes and he swallows, “I was in the heat of the moment, I’m s-“
“And it w-was so fucking…” Your body leans into him a bit more as you shut your eyes, “…Hot.”
Both Gojo and Choso are at a loss for words and neither of them really wants to discuss what they just did, both telling themselves that they weren’t thinking straight (literally) despite both of them having thoughts of doing so a few times throughout the night.
Choso starts shifting to wrap his arms around you and move you away from the… filth below, just to lay you down as you start yawning.
Then, he hovers over your face and watches how you sleepily blink at him, “No more sex-ban, right?” Choso whispers.
You pout but close your eyes, “…Mhm.”
He leans down and kisses you, “Promise?”
“S’long as you invite Satoru over again, yeah,” You hum.
Choso freezes and glances back to Gojo for only a second, before smirking and looking back down at you, “Yeah sure, whatever you want princess.”
he’s definitely inviting Gojo over for himself, not you.
tags;
@blognicole @suguruologist @luqueam @ivoryviness @sinaxalui @rxnnie18 @carlacujo @gods-landing @bitchysouljellyfish @miles4hour @sinaxalui @annananamin @heart-snow @kiyomizzx @hanuh @acehyacinth @mccookiemonster @tojis-ball-sack @cartwheel6869 @mariluvsusstuff @addie1010 @slammynics @actualz0mbie @hisbitchhh @kay-xle @cunttee3 @voids-universe @raininglovelyfire @itsbokutosjuicyass @peaceoutbritta @barbielani @gennaray @r3inae @kfmcykdy @camiihutt @tokina @curtin81937 @hopefullydecent @nameless-shade @ureuphoriasworld @forgetfulmachine @legbouk @lilliaannn @clementineee0-0 @divinelseraph @didibxx
#tfl!what if…#the f*ck list#the fuck list#choso kamo#reader x choso#choso kamo x reader#choso kamo smut#choso smut#choso x reader#jjk choso#jujutsu kaisen choso#choso x y/n#choso x you#choso x female reader#choso kamo x you#choso kamo x y/n#choso kamo x female reader#gojo#gojo satoru#gojo satoru x you#satoru gojo x reader#reader x gojo#gojo smut#gojo satoru x reader#gojo x you#gojo and choso#jjk x you#gojo x reader#jjk smut#jjk x reader smut
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Slow and Steady Wins
Summary: Joel loves to take his time and enjoy all of you until you’re begging for more
Warnings: mdni 18+ mature content, explicit sexual content
A/N: comments and reblogs are what help writers so please if you like it say something and reblog so others can enjoy! Also, my tag list is always open so please don’t hesitate to ask I would be more than happy to add more! Thanks! XOXO
Hall of Hunks
“That’s it baby. Nice and slow.” Joel’s low voice whispers in your ear as you sink down on his length. Hands on his shoulders to keep yourself upright. Gasping as you feel your walls stretching around him. Adjusting to how thick he really is and enjoying the feeling.
Turning your gaze to the wall trying to avoid his intense stare across your face. Biting down on your arm to return your attention back to him. Chuckling at how shy you suddenly become with such an intimate moment. Leaning forward more to feel your chest against his so your hearts beat as one.
“Can you feel all of me?” Keeping his voice just above a whisper like he didn’t want anyone else to hear.
“Yes.” Mumbling while lifting your hips up just above the tip before pushing him back in. Hands on the fat of your ass squeezing the flesh softly in his palms.
“Does my baby want more?” Nodding your head worried nothing but moans and gasps would slip out. Your fists now tugging on the nape of his hair fingernails scratching along his neck sure to leave a mark. Joel didn’t mind in the least bit.
Stroking soothing circles on your skin as he raised his hips to get a deeper angle. He’s warm and soft and incredibly deep. Feeling his lips glide across your face as you flex your muscles to lift your legs. Both creating a rhythmic motion so you two were in sync.
“Take it easy sweetheart.” He directs you while he pats your ass in warning. Of course you’re so lost in the feeling of his cock and so drunk you can’t stop.
“I need you so bad Joel.” You plea with him pathetically that tears start to form in your eyes. He hated to see you in so much pain that you had to beg him. “Please it hurts.”
“I’m right here baby. I’m not going anywhere.” Reassuring you with a loving smile on his face showing off his dimples. Gripping your hips to drill his pelvis directly up into yours. His brows furrowing in concentration as he could feel you squeezing him so tightly. Like you were afraid he would leave and you would be empty.
“I- I need you.” Choking out as you looked into his dark brown eyes that were glazed over. It was like you were the only person in this world, and all you had was each other. Both of you living in this moment like it was the last.
“Fuck baby so desperate.” His voice dripping like honey so sweet and infectious it had you melting in the palm of his hand. One of his hands wedging between your sweaty bodies to connect with your puffy clit. Circling the sensitive nub hoping to get you closer to your orgasm.
Resting your head on his shoulder feeling the stretch of your thighs as it began to burn. Joel could see you struggling to keep up with his thrusting. Taking matters into his own hands as his arms clasped behind your back and he began to buck into you. Pressing his lips together and holding his breath to the point his face turned beet red.
“Oh my god just like that.” Encouraging him as he hit that sweet spot directly now causing your body to stiffen.
Flexing his abdomen as he ruts into you feeling him all the way in your stomach rigid and hard. With this comfortable position that he kept you in grateful that he was able to give you what you wanted. Joel felt like he was in control and he became drunk on the power.
“Fuck my cock it’s all yours.” Walls clamping down at his crude words snickering at your reaction. Joel looking at your unbelievably disheveled face even when you were a sweaty mess he still thought you looked beautiful. It was his favorite look on you. “Wanna feel that creamy cunt cum on my cock.
Crying out as you gripped onto Joel’s body like your life depended on it. Toes curling as your whole body shook and crumbled into a heaping mess. Chest rising and falling with each quick breath. Stomach trembling with the resounding orgasm that you had just experienced. It was intense and overpowering you felt like you might pass out. Your cunt sore from the beating that you just took stretching you out.
His touch so gentle and comforting as he helped ease you through your release. Soft kisses up and down your shoulders as he rubbed his fingers nimbly up and down your back. This was the Joel that you loved so delicate with you and enjoying every inch of you.
“Took my cock so well baby girl. Such a good fucking girl for me.” Praises whispered in your ear as he remained still inside of you neither of you wanting to move. Smiling lazily at him as you relax into his arms ready to stay like this for the rest of your life.
#pedro pascal#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal smut#Pedro pascal blurb#Pedro pascal imagines#Pedro pascal fanfic#Pedro pascal fic#Joel miller#Joel miller x reader#Joel miller smut#Joel miller blurb#Joel miller fanfic#Joel miller fic#the last of us#the last of us smut
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wise beyond her years
sol meets someone, and it's doomed from the start. everyone can see it, except her. ingrid tries to balance being supportive and being... a parent?
based [ish] on the manuscript by taylor swift... mostly the lyrics
"afterwards she only ate kids cereal
and couldn't sleep unless it was in her mother's bed"
------
You met her at one of Ingrid’s games. Mapi had gone down to the locker room at halftime, and you’d been content to sit in your seat and scroll through your phone until the team made their way back out. That was, until she slid into the seat next to you and introduced herself.
Camila. She was a bit taller than you, the epitome of Spanish beauty. She spoke English with an adorable accent, and when you looked into her eyes for the first time, you were almost speechless. She looked to be a bit older than you. Maybe around Ingrid’s age.
You should have known better. You should have thought about how odd it was that she’d been sitting a few rows up and only came to talk to you when you were alone. How those first few dates she took you on always ended with her getting you to invite her to the next Barça game.
It was so easy for her. You were… healing. That didn't mean that you were healed. Freud would have rolled in his grave at how oblivious you were. Dating an older woman. Only a month or so after a huge fallout with your mother. Letting her talk you into things you weren’t quite sure about. Let her talk her way into your heart, making promises and declarations of love that came much too soon.
She said that she loved you. And it wasn’t that you believed her, not really. You just thought that if you tried hard enough to be perfect, one day she would love you.
------
Ingrid had made her displeasure with Camila known to you from the beginning. She knew exactly what the woman was up to, it was obvious to everyone but you. She was using you because you were an easy target, and you were vulnerable and young and excited that someone was paying attention to you.
You wouldn’t listen to Ingrid, though. Not when she warned you nicely about Camila, or when she warned you much more seriously. You ignored her words completely, dismissed them. And Ingrid didn’t want to fight with you, but she couldn’t hold back her feelings about this woman that had slipped into your life, so poor Mapi bore the brunt of the Norwegian’s rants about how Camila was not good enough for her Solstråle.
This was the case today. You were off with Camila, and Ingrid was going crazy back home. It had been weeks, and this was still going on. The worry and concern your sister had for you was at a high, it was all she could think about. Mapi felt similarly, but she tried to keep her cool because she knew very well that telling you not to date the woman would only make you want to date her more.
“She’s going to get hurt.” Ingrid said.
“She might. That’s how she learns, though, mi amor. We have to let her make her own mistakes.”
“Did you read that in your parenting book?” Ingrid asked with a slight smirk.
Mapi flushed red, avoiding her girlfriend’s gaze. “It is not a parenting book. It is a… helping sad teens book.” She argued.
Ingrid softened. “María, don’t be embarrassed. Getting a book to learn how to help Solstråle better… that is sweet and thoughtful. Just like you.”
Now, Mapi was blushing again, but this time a small smile adorned her features, though worry was still clouding her eyes. “Are you sure it’s okay? I know she’s your sister, and I do not want to overstep.”
Ingrid just shook her head. “No, you are not overstepping. I couldn’t do this without you, María, and I mean that. You balance me out. I was worried, for a while, about being too much like my mother. You’d never let that happen, though, and it’s like a safety net. I don’t need to worry as much about making a mistake because you’re always there to tell me when I’m not doing the right thing. And you don’t have to be, but you are. I don’t thank you enough for that, my love. I don’t tell you enough, how incredible you are, for being so full of love, and so happy to share it with everyone you meet.”
“I love you.” María whispered back. “I love you, and I love mi sol, and I tolerate her dog, but I love our family. Sol is a special kid and… I don’t know. I just want you both to be happy. I want you both to feel loved and worthy of love because you are.”
Ingrid isn’t quite sure how this conversation about your ‘girlfriend’ had led to this incredibly mushy conversation, but she pulled Mapi into her and squeezed tightly. “ Don’t make me cry, Solstråle will be home soon and she’ll make fun of me.”
Mapi laughed loudly, quickly wiping a tear off Ingrid’s cheek as the front door opened, announcing your arrival home. When you walked into the living room, it was to see Mapi and Ingrid curled up together on the couch, which wasn’t an unusual sight. Nor was the way they were looking at each other unusual, either. Like seeing the other person smile could sustain the other for days. Ingrid and Mapi loved each other so deeply, and so easily, it was clear for anyone to see.
You wanted that, you really did. And you thought you had it where you definitely didn’t. You’d have it one day, though. Something told you that.
-------
You weren’t sitting with Mapi at the match today. Camila had wanted it to be a real date, and not be supervised by your sister’s girlfriend, though she still wanted to attend the match. You’d been excited about it, even though you’d spent most of your free time with her in the past couple weeks. Well, excited until she’d disappeared right before kick off to get you both waters, and had been gone for 20 minutes.
You were really just worried that something had happened to slow her down, so you got up when an opposing player went down and headed off in search of her.
You found her pretty easily, leaning against a wall by the bathroom, talking to a girl. A girl that looked to be about your age, that looked just like you in fact. You tried not to jump to conclusions as you froze, watching carefully from a few meters away. It was obvious, though, what was going on. Even more obvious when Camila reached out and tucked a piece of the girl’s hair behind her ear.
It wasn’t immediately clear to you what to do. You knew you should be angry, but really all you felt was hurt. Before Camila could spot you, you headed back to your seat, and when Camila returned a few minutes later, you did what you were used to. You shut down. You answered her questions with shrugs or nods, even when she started to get annoyed that you weren’t speaking.
You wanted to talk to Frido. Not Ingrid or Mapi, because they’d freak out. Mapi would get all weirdly protective and huffy, and Ingrid would just be furious that you hadn’t listened to her. Frido would listen to you, and tell you what to do. You couldn’t get to the Swede, though, not without seeing your sister and her girlfriend. And by the time the final whistle blew, Camila’s anger was simmering under the surface, and she practically dragged you from the stadium. You quickly texted Mapi, telling her you were leaving with Camila, before your girlfriend pushed you into the car and all but slammed the door. You winced at the sound, knowing that you shouldn’t feel guilty for how you were acting. Camila should be the one feeling bad, but you couldn’t help the nagging feeling to just apologize and let it go.
It was like the old version of you and the newer version were fighting. Was this how you deserved to be treated? Had Camila really done anything wrong? Your brain was a mess, and as Camila pulled the car out of the parking spot, and began to drive, you decided that you just needed some space to think.
“Can you take me home?” You asked quietly, looking at your girlfriend out of the corner of your eye. She seemed to relax a bit, now that you’d spoken. Camila didn’t look as angry anymore. Just worried.
“Is everything okay? You’ve gone silent on me.” Camila asked gently. Or, at least, it sounded gentle. She was giving you a kind, concerned smile but there was a look in her eyes that made you kind of uneasy. You ignored it, focusing on the softness, letting yourself be lulled into a false sense of security. You told yourself to be honest, that it was probably just a misunderstanding. That Camila would make you feel better about it, explain it all away. And everything would go back to normal.
“I just… I saw you talking to that girl by the bathroom. It looked kind of cozy.” You said cautiously. The car came upon an intersection, a red light, and Camila came to a stop before she looked over at you. The concern was gone from her face. The softness nowhere to be found. She just looked furious at you.
“Did you follow me to the bathroom for a reason?” She asked venomously.
You shook your head, surprised at the turn this conversation had taken. “No, no, you were gone for a while, and I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”
Camila rolled her eyes as the light turned green, looking away from you and at the road. “Sure. I was just saying hi to an old friend. There’s no need to get all jealous.”
“I’m not jealous.” You replied, sitting up straighter in your seat, a bit of anger flaring in you. Anger you hadn’t felt in a while, but a feeling that still filled your veins with fire. “I just wanted to know why you were flirting with someone while we were on a date.”
Camila scoffed. “I was not flirting. I told you it was an old friend. I barely talked to her, what are you being so dramatic about?”
“I really don’t think I’m being dramatic. I just asked you a question.” You said, trying to remain calm even as your girlfriend got angrier and angrier next to you.
“No, you acted like a child. Going completely silent and ruining our date? I know you’re young, but I expected you to act like an adult and be more mature than that. It’s honestly embarrassing.”
You felt your cheeks burn, and you chewed on your lip for a minute, trying not to say anything you’d regret. “I asked you a question, and you just keep deflecting. I don’t think I am being the childish one.”
“Is this the mommy issues or something?” Camila asked, a cruel smile playing on her lips. You sat silent for a moment, not completely sure you’d heard her correctly.
“Excuse me?”
“The jealousy, the insecurity? I know your mom fucked you up, but this is ridiculous. We’ve only been together for a few weeks, why are you being so clingy? It’s fucking annoying, and I’ll tell you right now, no one on earth is going to want to put up with this. Especially not from you, it’s not worth it.”
You blinked, completely shocked. You hadn’t expected her to get so angry when you’d been honest about your insecurity and worry. And you hadn’t expected her to throw things that you’d told her in a moment of vulnerability in your face either. “Are you serious?” You asked, voice cracking slightly.
Camila let out a humorless laugh, parking the car in front of the cafe you were supposed to be going to. “Are you going to cry now?” She asked mockingly. “Christ, you really are too young. I don’t want to date someone this immature.”
You stared at her, feeling like you had whiplash from the turn this conversation had taken. It seemed like she was breaking up with you. Which was probably for the best, if this was how she reacted to you bringing up an issue with her. Still, it was like you were seeing a side of her you’d never seen before. Cold. Cruel. She looked completely unbothered as she unlocked the car doors and gave you a pointed look, one that clearly told you that this conversation was over.
She looked unbothered, and you felt your heart shatter as your biggest fear was coming true. You were too much. It had only taken Camila weeks to get tired of you. Hot tears fell down your cheeks, ones you desperately tried to hide. You were sad and embarrassed, but most of all. You just felt so hopeless.
As you got out of the car, without another word said to your now ex-girlfriend, you wondered how you could have been so naive to think that someone would want you. Camila was right. You were too screwed up for anyone to choose you.
You walked right into the cafe, making a beeline for the bathroom. Locking and shutting the door behind you, the last of your resolve broke, and you worked hard to quiet the broken sobs falling from your lips.
Stupid. You’d been so stupid. It wasn’t the first time someone had broken your trust, or said something awful to you. But it was the first time since… things had changed. And somehow, you’d forgotten how much it hurt, feeling unwanted. You had been used to it, before, numb to it. Now, though, it burned sharp in your chest. Shame and sadness and anger and frustration. And still. That persistent feeling of hopelessness. How was anyone ever supposed to want you?
-------
Mapi had a weird feeling when you called. Your text after the match had sounded odd, and you were supposed to be getting coffee with Camila. She didn’t really have any other reason to be worried, but for some reason, she was.
“Maps?” You greeted quietly. You called Mapi on purpose. She worried less than Ingrid, and while she disapproved of Camila, she had been pretending that she didn’t. Mapi was more likely to be willing to come and get you. Ingrid, on the other hand, you assumed would be too angry that you hadn’t listened to her. Too vindicated, and too caught up in being right to comfort you.
“Hey, nena. What’s up?” Mapi asked.
“Can you come get me?” You mumbled, the embarrassment of the situation really hitting you full force.
“Send me your location, I’m on my way.” Mapi replied instantly, and you really appreciated that she didn’t try to get any details out of you, was just focused on getting to you as fast as possible.
“Can you bring Scout?” You asked after a moment’s hesitation, knowing how Mapi felt about bringing the dog in the car with her. The simple question sent another wave of worry through the Spaniard’s body, knowing you really only asked for something you needed when… you really needed it.
“Of course. Do you want to stay on the phone with me?” Mapi asked, rushing to grab her keys, ignoring the questioning look Ingrid was giving her from the couch, having woken up from a nap.
“No, it’s okay. I’ll see you soon.”
“Okay, mi sol. I love you.”
“Love you too.” You whispered, choking back a sob as you hung up.
“What is it? Where is she? Is she okay? Did something happen?” Ingrid asked rapidly, moving to get up from the couch.
“Scout! Ven aqui!” Mapi called, rolling her eyes when the dog appeared instantly, as if he knew the reason for being summoned. “I don’t know, she just asked me to come get her. Don’t get up. Stay here, rest. I’ll get pequeña.”
“But-”
“No buts, princesa. Stay here. I’ve got this covered, we’ll be back soon. Don’t move from this couch, I mean it.” Mapi insisted, never one to take Ingrid’s recovery casually.
Ingrid frowned but sat back down on the couch, watching as her girlfriend and your dog disappeared out the front door, both of them moving like they were on a mission. If there was one thing Mapi could agree with Scout on, it was that you were very important.
-------
When Mapi pulled up in front of the cafe, she saw you sitting with a to-go cup of coffee at a little table, staring at the ground. She parked quickly, finding a spot just around the corner, before she got out to walk over to you, bringing Scout with her. Scout pulled harshly on his leash, and for once, Mapi didn’t mind.
“Solstråle?” Mapi called when she got close enough, seeing your head whip up to look in the direction of your name. In a flash, you were abandoning your coffee and all but launching yourself towards Mapi. The Spaniard didn’t say anything, not quite sure what had happened but able to infer that it wasn’t good.
“Thanks for coming so fast.” You said quietly, feeling just marginally better now that Mapi had pulled you into a tight hug. Scout nudged your leg with his nose rather insistently, until you pulled away from the hug and crouched down to pet him.
“Of course, mi sol. I’ll always come for you. Did something happen?” Mapi asked, never not amazed by the way Scout instantly brought a small smile to your face, even if your eyes were still slightly wet with tears.
“We broke up.” You said simply, though your voice cracked over the last word.
“Oh, nena. I’m so sorry.” Mapi sighed. “Let's get you home, yeah?”
“Okay.” You agreed, although you really weren’t looking forward to it. You wanted to go home, curl up into a ball and cry, by yourself. At the same time, you desperately wanted a hug from your sister. You were just completely convinced that she wouldn’t be willing to do that.
-------
You walked into the house just behind Mapi, trying to take deep, steadying breaths. You were close to breaking down, and you didn’t really need to hear all the reasons that Ingrid had known this would happen. You didn’t need an ‘I told you so.’
Your sister was waiting for you in the entrance hall, pacing nervously, when you walked in.
“Solstråle! What happened? Are you okay?” Ingrid asked as soon as you were through the door, ignoring Mapi’s look that was clearly telling her to be cool.
“It’s fine, I’m fine. I want to be alone.” You said, pushing past her to head for the stairs. You heard Ingrid begin to go after you, but Mapi stopped her, telling her to give you a minute.
-------
You collapsed onto your bed, Scout jumping up next to you like he thought it was a game. You just wished it would just swallow you up. It was only a few minutes later that you heard footsteps approaching your door, like you knew they would. A soft knock on your door interrupted your crying, and you hastily wiped at your eyes. “Yeah?”
Ingrid peaked her head in. “I know you said you want to be alone, but I just wanted to check…” she said, trailing off when she saw you valiantly fighting your tears.
“I’m okay.” You mumbled, focusing on petting Scout, as opposed to looking at your sister.
“Honey, you aren’t.” Ingrid sighed, moving in closer to take a seat on the edge of your bed. “You’re upset, that’s okay. You don’t need to be embarrassed.”
“Well, I am. You were right. Is that what you wanted to hear?” You asked bitingly, not really intending to snap so harshly at your sister, but not quite sure you felt like you could trust her at the moment.
“No, sweetheart, that is not what I wanted to hear. I wanted to be wrong about her, solstråle, more than anything. I am so sorry things didn’t end well.”
“You aren’t glad that you’re right?” You asked, astonished. It didn't really make sense to you; all of this could have been avoided if you’d just listened to your sister. How could she be sorry for you when you’d blatantly ignored her advice?
Ingrid shook her head, her face painfully full of pity and sympathy. “No, not if it means that you’re hurting.”
“Oh.” You weren’t quite sure what to do with that. You’d been prepared to deal with this yourself. To be completely honest, you didn’t really feel like you deserved Ingrid’s support. You’d been so stupid not to listen to her. This was all your fault, really, and Ingrid shouldn’t have to deal with implications of something that was ultimately your mistake. “I’m sorry, I should have listened.” You said quietly, looking down, refusing to make eye contact with your sister.
“Don’t be sorry, solstråle.” Ingrid sighed. You looked so distraught, but you were leaning slightly away from your sister, like you were afraid to accept any comfort from her. Like suddenly, you weren’t sure you trusted her anymore. And though that hurt, Ingrid really couldn’t blame you. Not when the universe seemed so dead set on making you miserable. “What can I do?”
“I just want to be alone.” You mumbled, wrapping your arms around yourself, completely invalidating your statement.
“No, you don’t. Look at me.” Ingrid instructed, waiting until you raised your head to look at her, very cautiously. “You’re allowed to be sad about this. No matter what happened, no matter what I said about her before. I never want to see you hurting. You don’t have to deal with this alone just because you made a mistake. Okay?”
You held your sister’s gaze for a few moments, before you slowly nodded your head. “I really liked her.” You whispered after a minute, leaning almost imperceptibly towards your sister.
“I know. Come here, honey,” Ingrid said, opening her arms for you to all but collapse into them. It was familiar, at this point, being held tightly in Ingrid’s arms. It never failed to make you feel better. And while Ingrid wished that things would just be easier for you, a very critical part of herself settled when you relaxed against her. The brunette was never quite sure she was doing a good enough job with you, but when you went to her when you were upset, allowed her to help you, even if it was rather hesitantly, it felt reassuring to her. It wasn’t full trust, but you were getting there. She must be doing something right if you were making progress.
“What would make you feel better?” Ingrid asked after a minute, smiling to herself at how Scout had settled himself with half his upper body draped across your legs.
“Nothing.” You replied pathetically. It wasn’t the first relationship you’d had, but it felt so much more significant than any of the others had. In just a few weeks, Camila had made herself one of the most important things in your life. You weren’t really sure how she managed it, but somehow, she’d gotten you to confess things you’d told very few people, learned more about you than many people did. And as soon as things had started to not go her way, she’d used all those things against you. It was the first time in a while that you’d really let yourself be fully vulnerable with someone, and it had backfired so horrifically. You were hurt, and you were embarrassed, but most of all, you were just sad.
You thought this was going to be a turning point for you, but you didn’t realize you’d given Camila all of the ammunition she’d needed to make sure it was the biggest setback you’d face. Not until you were lying in your bed, wanting nothing more than to disappear. You’d been nothing to her. That was a familiar feeling, something that made every cell in your body squirm with anxiety. It was happening again.
“What are you thinking?” Ingrid asked, interrupting your rapid stream of thoughts.
“Is it me? Do I just… make people want to treat me badly?” You asked. It wasn’t the first time you’d considered it, but that particular fear had been dormant since everything had happened in the last few weeks. Since Ingrid and Mapi had made it clear that they wanted you here with them. It was confusing and completely contradictory, your brain couldn’t really make sense of it. Your sister and her girlfriend must just be the exception.
“No.” Ingrid said firmly. “No. It isn’t you. You just have… bad luck. You make me and Mapi want to be better, Solstråle. Better for you, so that we can take care of you in the way that you deserve. You are good, Solstråle, and you deserve good, even when you don’t feel like it.”
For some reason, Ingrid’s words brought tears to your eyes. Good tears. “Well, I can’t have all bad luck. I get to be here with you two, and I don’t know if I would still be…” you trailed off, trying to figure out what you wanted to say. “You both saved my life, I think. The two of you wanting me here, and taking me in, that’s good luck.” You managed, sitting up and shifting so you were facing your sister, who looked one word away from bursting into tears herself.
“It’s not good luck, mi sol. It’s what you deserve. It’s what you should have had this whole time.” Mapi chimed in from the doorway, looking fondly at the two of you. Ingrid smiled at her in thanks, humming quietly in agreement with her girlfriend’s statement. The Spaniard wandered in closer, flopping onto the free space on your bed, causing a disgruntled Scout to shift, kicking Mapi lightly in the side. “That girl did not deserve you. And you’ll find someone who wants to treat you the way you deserve. You just can’t rush stuff like that, sí? It will come to you when it does.”
It was potentially the most frustrating advice to receive, but it made you feel better nonetheless.
“And she was kind of ugly.” Mapi said as an afterthought.
“Mapi!” You laughed, smiling a real smile. Both girls’ faces lit up at the sight of the smile on your face, and both of them were desperate for you to keep smiling, for your face not to fall into the sad frown it had been in for the past hour. The conversation lulled, and Ingrid’s mind raced, trying to think of what people liked to do after breakups. She’d been with Mapi for so long, she wasn’t sure she remembered.
“Do you want to lay in bed alone for the rest of your night, or do you want to watch a movie? Or we could go get ice cream. Or we could go shopping. Or on a run. Or-” Ingrid listed, only stopping when you cut her off.
“Sister movie night sounds good.” You said softly, unable to express in that moment how much you appreciated how hard she was trying. You knew ingrid probably wanted to talk, to hear everything that had happened, but she was learning to respect that you really only liked to talk when you felt like it. Which wasn’t often.
“Sister movie night, cool.” Ingrid said, trying to act like she wasn’t thrilled that you’d decided to be with her instead of requesting to be alone. “Go pick a movie, I’ll make popcorn.”
You all dragged yourselves off your soft comforter, having grown rather comfortable, and headed for your bedroom door.
“I’ll be in the garage.” Mapi said, smiling at both of you as she tried to wordlessly communicate that she knew you both wanted sister time, and it was okay that it didn’t include her. Both you and Ingrid froze, though, turning slightly to stare at her like she’d said something absurd.
“Don’t be stupid.” You said, rolling your eyes. “‘Sister movie night’ obviously means ‘sister and her live-in girlfriend’ movie night.”
Mapi looked a bit surprised, though she shouldn’t have been. There were very few times that you just wanted to be with Ingrid, and those times were becoming less and less frequent as you began to depend on Mapi more and more. “You want me to watch with you?”
“Sí.” You said, almost exasperated. “Why wouldn’t I want you to hangout with us?”
“I just thought it was Engen sister time…” Mapi trailed off, looking uncharacteristically insecure.
“Engen León family time.” Ingrid amended, looking at you for approval. You nodded.
“Who else is going to talk the entire length of the film?” You asked, smirking and sprinting off down the stairs when Mapi gave you an offended look, Scout hot on your heels.
------
The movie had been a good distraction, not that Mapi or Ingrid really paid much attention to it. Instead, they kept glancing over at where you were curled up on the couch. Scout had taken his place next to you, one of his legs stretching out every now and then to kick in Mapi’s direction.
The conversation with them had obviously made you feel better, but they were still rather uneasy. You were acting completely normally, all of a sudden. And they didn’t buy it, not for a second. They weren’t sure what had happened, because you hadn’t said, but they knew that it wasn’t good. You’d been infatuated with Camila, and now you were reluctant to speak her name. Whatever had gone on had hurt you, deeply, but in the span of a few hours, you were acting like you were completely fine.
To you, it just felt like there was no use in thinking about it anymore. Crying over what happened, being sad or angry with Camila wouldn’t help you. It wouldn’t make you feel better. You’d very logically taken stock of your emotions, before deciding that they were completely useless. You were fine.
Well, maybe not, but you would be fine. Especially if you acted like nothing was wrong. Like you weren’t questioning every choice you’d made with Camila. Like you didn’t hate yourself. Emotions only had power if you gave it to them, you decided. Before, you might have been angry. Now, though, you just… forced it all off, far away. No feeling anything until it hurt less to think about what had happened.
It seemed like a good plan to you, and you stuck to it. Even when you couldn’t fall asleep that night, your mind swirling with horrible thoughts as you tried to push them away. Eventually, you gave up, putting on a show and forcing yourself to focus on that, instead.
It was obvious that you hadn’t slept the next morning, walking down to the kitchen like a zombie. Ingrid and Mapi were hoping you’d be a little more forthcoming with what had occurred today, but all hopes of that went out the window when you avoided eye contact with them, a hood pulled over your head, dark bags under your eyes. At least you there was no school, as you had the day off, but they had training, training they couldn’t miss. Neither of them felt very good about leaving you home alone, with no idea what was going on in your head.
You were blankly shoveling cereal into your mouth when Ingrid got your attention.
“Solstråle!” She said rather loudly. You jumped slightly, looking across the table at her in confusion. “I said your name 5 times. Did you not hear me?”
Ingrid didn’t sound mad, just worried, and you felt your throat tighten.
No. No. No tears. No sadness. That wouldn’t help. Self pity wouldn’t help. The only thing to do was to move forward.
“Sorry. I’m just tired. Had coffee too late yesterday, couldn't sleep.” You mumbled, turning your attention back to the ceramic bowl in front of you. Your thoughts wandered, briefly, to the fact that since you’d moved in, there hadn’t been a single day where there wasn’t a box of your favorite cereal in the pantry. You really must have been feeling the complete lack of sleep, because that thought alone almost had you tearing up.
“Come to training today. María is out on the grass, again, you can watch.” Ingrid suggested softly.
You shook your head though, swallowing the lump in your throat. You didn’t want to be far from them, but you also knew that if they kept being so nice to you, you weren’t going to be able to keep it together.
“I’m really tired, I just want to stay here.” You replied. Ingrid looked like she wanted to argue, but Mapi nodded from where she stood at the fridge, filling her water.
“That’s okay. Stay here, have a chill day. We’ll be back after lunch.” She walked over to you, squeezing your shoulder kindly. The Spaniard said goodbye, before exiting the kitchen. Ingrid hung back, not really caring at all that she might make them late.
Your sister stood from her spot at the table, and you mumbled a quiet goodbye, only looking up when she came to stand right next to you. Her hand pulled your hood down, her fingers tilting your chin up to look at her. Her face was pinched with concern, and you felt a pang of guilt that you were doing this again. Making them worry about you.
“Try to sleep or something? You looked exhausted, sweetheart. No runs or hikes or climbs, please. Just stay here?” Ingrid asked, making sure to frame her request as a question, and not a command.
“Okay.” You agreed, far too tired to even think about any of those things. You knew Ingrid just wanted you to stay where she knew you were, which was fine. You were honestly just surprised she hadn’t dragged you to training with her.
She lightly patted your cheek, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “Be good. I love you.”
“Love you too. Play safe.”
You were wide awake, completely wired. Even as everything inside of you told you that you should be tired, you felt like you might never sleep again. You kept your promise to your sister, though, collapsing onto the couch and putting a show on. Scout came to lay with you, falling asleep easily in your lap. You were jealous of your dog, you realized. It was an amusing thought, but all you felt was… Empty. Nothing. Because if you let yourself laugh, you were sure it would turn into sobs, and you couldn’t do that.
You just had to be strong.
-------
You got into bed early that night, hoping that the added time laying down would help you fall asleep. You were so exhausted, truly, but as you laid in bed at 8pm, you knew instinctively that you wouldn’t be able to sleep again. Everytime you drifted off, your thoughts drifted too, and you’d jerk awake, struck with a reminder of what Camila had said. Her words were haunting you. Everytime you closed your eyes, you could see the sneer on her face as she spoke, and hear the cruel words she’d spoken.
You were beginning to think she was right about you. How were you so screwed up after a relationship ended that had only lasted a few weeks to begin with? You thought you loved her, yes, but you were being dramatic. You shouldn’t be this devastated, and in your head, this only reinforced that idea that Camila had been right. You were too immature. You were too messed up. No one was ever going to want to deal with you.
A soft knock on your door dragged you out of your thoughts, thankfully.
“Come in,” you called. Mapi pushed the door open, taking in the rather unnaturally clean room around her. You’d gone crazy cleaning the night before, putting away all the clothes strewn across the floor. It was neat and clutter free in there now, and Mapi’s heart melted at the sight of the framed photo on your nightstand. It was of the three of you, a candid that Frido had taken after a match. It was little things like this that made Mapi deeply happy, and deeply sad all at once. For six months you’d lived here, and they’d given you the space they thought you needed. It was so far from what you actually needed, though, and Mapi couldn’t help the guilt that filled her at the thought. All she and Ingrid could do now, though, was do better.
So, she entered your room, holding out a mug towards you. It was the one she’d picked out at Ikea, the one with the map and the sun. You knew for a fact that you’d used it this morning for your coffee, which meant Mapi must have pulled it out of the dishwasher and hand washed it herself, so she could bring it up to you.
“I made you tea.” She said, taking a seat on the edge of your bed as you grabbed the mug from her.
“Did you think caffeine would help me sleep?” You asked skeptically.
She rolled her eyes. “No, idiota, it is sleepytime tea. There’s no caffeine.”
You took a cautious sip, smiling a bit when you liked the taste.
“My mami always made it for me when I couldn’t sleep.” Mapi said quietly. “Thought it might help tonight since you decided to become nocturnal yesterday.”
Ingrid and Mapi really toed the line of parent vs. sister / guardian. It was often a sisterly relationship, you thought, with both of them. When you would tease each other, or argue about borrowing their clothes. Other times, it felt completely parent-y. When they’d make you go to bed early, or annoy you about studying for a test.
This situation definitely fell into the latter category, and you found that you minded it less and less.
“It’s good.” You told her, taking another sip. “And I didn’t decide to become nocturnal. It just kind of happened.”
Mapi hummed, looking around the room again. You just had the string lights above your bed on, the room lit also by the soft glow of the TV, as your favorite sitcom played. You’d lit a candle, and you were bundled up under the covers of your bed, clearly trying hard to be comfortable. Clearly trying very hard to sleep.
You looked so tired, it made her heart ache, and she knew Ingrid felt the same. Ingrid, who Mapi was absolutely sure was hovering outside the door, not wanting to overwhelm you. You seemed… fragile. Like you were one step away from breaking at any given moment, and neither of them wanted that to happen before you were ready. Ingrid was just as worried about you, though, and she’d only agreed not to go in if Mapi promised to make you promise something.
“Can you promise to wake us up tonight if you can’t sleep?” Mapi said finally, looking intently at you.
With a sigh, you shrugged. “What good would that do?”
“You wouldn’t have to be alone.” Mapi said simply, watching as a flicker of emotion flashed across your face. You didn’t have to be alone anymore. Sometimes you forgot. “If you don’t promise, Ingrid is probably going to come in here every hour or something and check on you.”
With a roll of your eyes, and a big sigh that you didn’t really mean, you nodded. “Fine.”
“Good.” Mapi grinned. “Goodnight, mi sol. Te quiero.”
“Goodnight.” You replied. “Tell Ingrid in the hall goodnight too.”
The Spaniard chuckled. “I will. Sleep tight.”
With that, she leaned down, pressing a kiss onto your forehead, before she slipped out of the room. Hushed whispers came from the hall and you smiled to yourself, just a bit. Ingrid was such a weirdo sometimes.
-------
It was around 2am when you broke. You’d tried everything you could think of to fall asleep, and nothing had worked. Worse, the lack of sleep was really getting to you and you were feeling ridiculously emotional. When you promised Mapi you’d wake them up if you couldn’t sleep again, you hadn’t meant it. Now, though, as you lay awake in your bed, tears threatening to fall, you really didn’t want to be alone. You weren’t sure how they could help, or even if you wanted help, but you knew that the indisputably healthy choice to make here would be to go to them. And you were trying to be better for yourself.
Even as Camila’s words rattled around in your head, and you were half convinced you were an awful person, about to become even worse by waking Ingrid and Mapi up, you got up from your bed, and walked down the hall.
There were a lot of notable moments in your time in Spain. A lot of them consisted of long, emotional talks with Ingrid and Mapi. And you knew that this was likely what you were headed for. It was naive to think you could hold everything that had happened in, keep it all to yourself. Especially when you’d kind of gotten used to sharing things with them, as horrifying as that thought was. You weren’t nervous, like usual, though. You just wanted them to tell you that everything she’d said was wrong.
Scout followed you down the hall, slightly annoyed that you’d woken him up when you got up. He liked to sleep with some part of him touching you, so it was inevitable that when you woke, Scout did too. Your sister’s bedroom door was open, and you peeked in, half second guessing yourself. Both of them were asleep. It was a cool night, by Barcelona’s standards, which was obvious by Mapi’s sweatshirt and sweatpants that she’d worn to bed, as well as the extra blanket pulled over her. Ingrid, on the other hand, had kicked the comforter off of her, sleeping in just a tshirt and shorts. They were laying facing each other, their hands tangled together, like they’d fallen asleep talking.
They were sleeping. They’d had a long week. They had training the following day. You shouldn’t wake them. They looked comfortable and peaceful, and you shouldn’t ruin that. You turned to go back to your room, biting your lip to stop yourself from crying at how utterly alone you suddenly felt.
You were sure you hadn’t made any noise, but still, a whispered voice stopped you in your tracks.
“Solstråle?” Ingrid asked quietly, sitting up and rubbing the sleep out of her eyes. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing, go back to sleep.” You said, trying to keep your voice steady. It evidently didn’t work, because not a second later, Ingrid was flicking the lamp on, looking at you with a sympathetic expression on her face. Next to your sister, her girlfriend huffed in annoyance, still practically asleep, pulling the covers up and over her head. Ingrid rolled her eyes, before fixing her attention back on you.
“Come here.” Ingrid instructed, gesturing you closer to the bed. You walked over, feeling ridiculously like a small child waking their parents up after a bad dream. “You can’t sleep?”
“No.” You said miserably, roughly wiping away a stray tear.
“How can I help? Do you want to talk?” She asked worriedly, brutally kicking Mapi in the shin as she did so, thinking that her girlfriend would be somewhat helpful in this situation, even if she was half asleep. The Spaniard grumbled unhappily, but emerged from under the covers just as you responded.
“I don’t know, I just can’t stop thinking about her.” You whispered, truly not confident that anything could make you feel better in that moment.
Mapi sat up, patting the middle of the bed invitingly. It was a king, and there was plenty of room, but you looked between her and Ingrid skeptically.
“I’m not a child.” You said a bit harshly, thinking of Camila calling you immature. If only she could see you now.
“We know. You just broke up with your girlfriend, though, and you haven’t slept in over a day. You are sad and exhausted, and it isn’t childish to need help.” Mapi said kindly, very dramatically scooching over so there was more room for you.
You floundered for a minute, not quite sure what to do. You were an adult. An adult. And Ingrid and Mapi were not your parents. The appeal was there, though, to climb into the bed and tell them everything. To let yourself break when you knew they’d keep track of all the pieces, and put you back together. “Can I have more tea?” You blurted out, looking at Mapi. You weren’t really sure where that came from, but she nodded enthusiastically, rising from the bed, practically taking off for the kitchen in a sprint.
“I’ll go make some!”
You turned back to Ingrid, chewing aggressively on your lip. She rolled her eyes at you, teasingly, before she pointendly looked between you and the bed.
“Get in the damn bed.” Ingrid sighed. It was easier, when she was telling you exactly what to do, because you didn’t have to worry about picking the wrong answer. You settled on the bed, right in the middle, and Ingrid threw an arm around your shoulders, pulling you to lean your head on her shoulder.
“Ingrid?” You said after a minute, so quietly, your sister almost missed it.
“Hmm?”
“Do you think I’m immature?” You asked.
Ingrid thought for a moment. “No. I think you’ve had to grow up really fast, and you’ve had to make a lot of big adjustments. You are more mature because of all of that. Why?”
You knew she would hate what you were going to say. “Camila said I was.”
Ingrid grew tense next to you. “That’s because she was a 26 year old woman dating an 18 year old. What was she fucking expecting?” Ingrid said venomously.
Mapi walked back into the room, taking care to be quiet, as it looked like you were deep in thought. She placed the mug of tea on her nightstand before she sat on the bed next to you, turning so she could see your face.
“Did she say anything else?” Ingrid asked cautiously.
You opened your mouth to tell her that, no, Camila hadn’t said anything else. Instead, words flowed out of your mouth that you hadn’t decided to say, but you were unable to contain them. “She called me jealous and immature. She said the ‘mommy issues’ were really obvious, that I was insecure and clingy, and that I wasn’t worth it. That no one would want to put up with me.”
You said it so forlornly, so resigned to what this awful woman had told you, Ingrid felt an anger she’d never experienced before rise within her. Neither she nor Mapi knew what to say right away, collecting their thoughts. You broke the silence again, though, after only a few seconds.
“I think she’s right.” You said, your voice breaking clearly. You pressed your hands to your face, body shaking with silent sobs.
“No, mi sol, no,” Mapi said softly, scooting closer to rest a hand on your knee.
Ingrid took a breath, trying to swallow her anger, rubbing your arm with her hand comfortingly. “Solstråle, you are none of those things. That awful woman has no idea who you are, not really. You are not immature, you are 18. There is a huge difference. And you are so much more than what happened with mom. You are so many good things despite mom, sweetheart, and Camila doesn’t know what she’s talking about. She just wanted to hurt you, none of that is true.” Ingrid said insistently.
“Why would she want to hurt me? I thought she liked me. I don’t understand.” You replied, still keeping your face hidden away in your hands.
“Because she isn’t a good person, and she doesn’t deserve you. And you don’t understand because you are good, mi sol. So good.”
“Then why do such horrible things keep happening?” You asked, voice raised slightly in frustration. You pulled your hands away from your face, looking between your sister and her girlfriend with a tearstained, bewildered face. “I’m trying to be good, I’m trying so hard, why is this so hard?”
Both girls felt their hearts break a little at your words. Ingrid wrapped both her arms around you, pulling you into her chest as you cried. “I know, Solstråle, it’s not fair. It’s going to get better. I promise you, it is.”
“I’m tired of everything being so hard.” You cried, shutting your eyes tightly as you spoke. You felt a soft hand brushing your hair away from your forehead, felt Ingrid leave a kiss on your forehead. “I’m tired.”
You meant it figuratively, and literally, and Mapi and Ingrid knew that very well. The best thing they could do for you now, would be to get you calm enough to sleep. It was happening without them trying very hard, honestly. You could barely keep your eyes open, even as soft sobs fell from your mouth.
“It’s not going to be hard forever. I promise you, mi sol.” Mapi said, looking intently at you, though you didn’t look back at her.
“I’m so tired.” You repeated, barely making sense. You were almost delirious with exhaustion, your emotional outburst only making it worse.
“Sleep, solstråle. We are right here. Everything will feel better in the morning. You aren’t going to feel like this forever. Just relax, and sleep. We love you so much.”
And even as you nodded, all the fight and worry of being too much for them flooding from your body, you wondered if they were right. If everything would feel better.
If anyone would ever really want you.
You drifted off ridiculously easily, curled up next to your sister, your brain going quiet for the first time in days. Once Ingrid was sure you were asleep, she turned to her girlfriend, who was tucking the blankets around you nice and tight.
“I am going to kill that girl.” Ingrid murmured, feeling absurdly protective over you.
“I will kill her first.” Mapi vowed.
“She isn’t allowed to date again until she’s 50.” Ingrid said, a frown etched on her face.
Mapi cracked a smile. “Good luck with that, mi amor.”
Ingrid shook her head. “I can’t stand to see her like this.”
The Spaniard turned serious again, nodding her agreement. “It’s gonna get better, Ingrid. It’s not going to be perfect, but she’s already better. She just needs time.”
“I wish I could take it from her, so she could just be happy all the time.” Ingrid admitted, flicking the lamp off, her voice barely more than a whisper.
“I do too.” Mapi whispered back. She and Ingrid looked at each other over your slumbering form, each seeing their exact feelings reflected in the other’s face, even with their features obscured by darkness. They just wanted things to be better for you. Easier and lighter and happier. They’d do anything, get you the moon if you wanted it. They didn’t consider if they were giving you all they could, that maybe you needed something else. They just promised themselves that they wouldn’t rest until you were happier, whatever it took. Whatever it took for you, because you were their sol, and nothing on earth was more important to them than your happiness.
-------
my name is girlgenius1111 and i like to make my fictional kid suffer
give me all your thoughts on this installment of sol ☀️
#woso imagine#woso x reader#ingrid engen x mapí leon#ingrid engen x reader#mapi leon x reader#engen!reader#platonic reader#🍓☀️#woso one shot#woso fanfics
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Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!reader
Fandom: Call of Duty
Character(s): Simon Riley, Reader
Summary: Two personalities that clash, you and your lieutenant rarely get along, but when it comes to light that Lt. Riley has been messing with things behind the scenes of your life, what will happen when you confront him? Is it really hate that makes you stay in the argument the ensues...or is the tension a little too heavy to ignore?
Word Count: 7.5 k
Warnings:
Author's Note: I was planning on having more out this week, but storms here where I live have set me back a bit in getting things out due to power constantly going down. I'm behind, but I promise things are still coming. We have the steamy risking it without protection fic and the angsty Truth or Dare part 6 coming, so stay tuned!
Lt. Riley doesn’t really want to be here, stuck in the middle of the loud, crowded bar right off base on his night off and yet here he is amidst it all. Just wanted to, he will repeat if pushed for an answer as to why he’s come out and a part of him might even mean it, at least that is what he will try to convince himself of because he can’t accept that he knows it’s a lie.
A strong grip wrapped around his glass from his large hand, he brings his bourbon to his lips as those brown eyes scan the place from within the recesses of his thinner black balaclava that he wears when back in civility. His dark eyes are constantly on the move to disguise their true target, flitting from Soap to Garrick to whoever else is speaking around the small group of tables the taskforce has claimed for the evening only to dart back to one person: you.
He eyes you across the bar chatting up some bloke with mid length black hair and a prominent neck tattoo, smiling and giggling in what looks to be a lively conversation of shared interests and it makes his blood pressure rise until he can feel the heat in his face. Lucky for him that the mask conceals enough, only being pulled up from time to time for him to take a drink or grab a quick smoke.
For whatever reason you both have never really gotten along with one another, even from day one. There is something about your personalities that just does not mix, a tension that always leads to an argument. Maybe it is the similarities in your natures, maybe it is because you aren’t afraid to speak out where he is more subdued and calculated. Whatever the reason doesn’t matter, whenever you are in proximity it is like trying to force gasoline and fire to coexist in the same place without causing destruction. Sure, you can both be professional in the right setting, force yourselves to work together for a common goal as sergeant and lieutenant and you are good at it, but once the threat is gone and you are back on safe ground, the feud ramps right back up.
So it surprises you when the lieutenant immediately agrees to tag along tonight. He usually isn’t too keen on this type of rowdy fun, preferring quieter company, but over the past couple of months it seems like wherever it is you find yourself he is never too far away. It is a free country and he can do as he damn well please, even though it is obvious the way his stare keeps coming back to you.
He may have everyone else fooled, but not you, no. There is no mistaking the feeling you get whenever his gaze falls on you.
You have noticed it more and more in the past couple of weeks the way that somber glare subtly finds you when you are near. Clearly you are doing something right to piss him off and there is something euphoric about forcing his attention to constantly stick to you. Why not play it up? Maybe you like the idea of making him watch as you finally score.
You hope it makes him seethe to see you happy.
Those dark eyes stick to you for a couple hours until finally he has caught what he has been waiting for. He follows your form as you get up from your seat and make your way over towards the bathrooms. He can’t stop himself from taking the opportunity and before you have even let the bathroom door shut behind you, the lieutenant is already on his feet and drawing down his mask as he stalks towards the bastard you were just chatting up a second ago with only one goal in mind.
The same goal he has had for months now anytime you start to get too close to anyone.
Your mystery man has just brought the neck of his beer bottle up and put it to his lips when the shadow from the lieutenant’s large stature casts over the table he is still sitting at. As he looks up he is met with the most intimidating face he has ever seen staring right back at him. The firm stance mixed with the glare in the lieutenant’s eyes within the skull mask gives the man pause and the confidence he once had slips away as he struggles to find his voice.
“Can I help…?” the dark-haired man barely gets out before he is cut off as the lieutenant steps up to him.
“That bird you’re talkin’ to just a moment ago,” Lt. Riley says, his thick British accent deep and viciously harsh from the very first syllable; he’s only got a few minutes to get this done. “Ya best leave ‘er alone if ya know what’s good for ya.”
The man swallows hard trying not to choke as he is caught off-guard by the intense hostility that has seemingly come out of nowhere. “Dude, if she’s with you I’m sorry, I didn’t know. She’s the one that approached me, honest,” he chokes out his apologies, hoping that it will be enough not to get his face bashed in by this hulking specimen of a man.
Lt. Riley ignores his comment and leans down closer to his face, his stare sharp and cruel as he places a heavy hand on his shoulder. His fingers dig in hard until the man winces. “Don’t let me catch ya talkin’ to ‘er anymore tonight, got it? Cause if I gotta come over again you’re gonna wish I didn’t and by then it’ll be too fuckin’ late for ya. I’ll make sure ta put ya in the fuckin’ ground. Do ya understand?”
Eyes wide in fear, the man slowly nods; there is no need to be told twice, not from a man like this. He knows the type of guys that frequent the bar as the military base is not but a few minutes from here and he isn’t looking to get pulverized by a trained professional. A slight tremble in his hand, the man grabs his beer bottle and takes off into the bar with a worried look on his face.
Lt. Riley watches as the man hides himself behind a large group standing around the L-shaped bar near the bartender and a smug sense of satisfaction fills him as he heads back to his own table to finish his drink, content that once again he has succeeded in his mission. It’s not even a couple minutes that pass before the corner of his vision catches a familiar figure exiting the bathroom and heading back to the table he had just left from.
You return to your seat only to find your new friend nowhere to be found. Looking around, you second guess yourself that this isn’t where you are supposed to be, but this is your table; your rum and coke is still right where you had left it. You take your seat and pick up your drink; it’s possible that he had just scurried off somewhere and would be back any second. But as the time passes with no man in sight, frustration begins to wash over you as you realize that this shit is happening again.
It’s been months since you’ve been able to have your needs met by something other than your fingers and for some strange reason no matter how good things seem to be going, it ends in you getting ghosted. Why? Even the few times you’ve had encounters on base the guys you had flirted with for days suddenly go cold and avoid you like the plague.
Is there something wrong with me? you question yourself silently.
Across the way, Lt. Riley downs the last swig of bourbon in his glass, setting it back on the tabletop gently as he situates his mask back down. He doesn’t say a word or offer a goodbye, opting to silently slip out from his seat unnoticed to head outside with a smirk contorting his lips beneath the fabric covering his mouth.
He has gotten what he wanted…well, not all. There is still something else that eats away at him, a specter at the back of his mind, and even as he convinces himself that he is only doing this to make you mad it still lays there in waiting.
Back at your empty table, you finish your own drink and are about to call it a night when you spot your potential lover tucked away at the far end of the bar, hunched down in his seat. It’s odd the way he is sitting; it almost looks like he is trying to avoid being spotted, but that can’t be right, can it? Moving your way through the noisy crowd of people, you make it over to him.
“Thought I lost you,” you say cheerfully and watch him choke into his drink.
He coughs a few times before he is able to get it under control and speak. “Think I’m gonna call it a night,” he says. His response is quick and dismissive as he sets his bottle down and turns to leave, but you are determined to at least get some feedback as none of this is making sense.
You block his path with your stance and watch as his whole body tenses. “Did something happen? I thought we were having a nice time.”
The man uneasily looks around the area, searching for something that he ends up not being able to find, but that only alleviates some of the tension in his brows. “Look,” he says as he turns his attention back to you, “you’re really nice and all, but I’m not interested in getting my head caved in tonight, okay?”
Your cheerful expression falls. “What are you talking about?” you ask in confusion.
He takes a breath; he needs to get out of this conversation fast. “Some big masked guy came over while you were gone and threatened to put me in the ground if I didn’t leave you alone, so that’s what I’m going to do. Don’t know if he’s your ex or something, but I don’t want any part of that,” he confirms. “So, if you’ll excuse me I’m gonna get out of here before he comes back.”
You want to convince him to stay, that there is nothing going on that he needs to worry about, that it’s just your vindictive lieutenant trying to ruin your night, but the way he is shaken up you know there is no stopping him. All you can do is defeatedly watch him walk away as you say goodbye at any chance you had at getting laid tonight.
But this encounter isn’t completely useless; with his revelation things begin to add up now. All this time you thought it was you who scared off your potential lovers somehow, that there was something wrong with you that kept driving them away, but no. It is Lt. Riley who is going around threatening people to stay away from you, you are sure of it now.
And that makes you see red. What even is his endgame? Things have always been tense between you two, but this is going too far. You need to find out why and now because this is becoming unbearable. He has messed with your life long enough without your knowledge; tonight it is all going to end.
You turn your head back over to where the lieutenant had been seated and you spot his glass still sitting on the table. He couldn’t have left that long ago if his empty cup hasn’t even been cleared yet; if you leave right now and hurry, you probably will catch him. Quickly getting the bartender’s attention you pay your tab and immediately head out into the night ready to get your answers.
Each step makes your heartbeat pound a little faster the closer you get to base. Fueled by the uninhibited state you find yourself in from of the couple of drinks you had, you don’t want the moment to dissipate; you need your anger to power your words so that your lieutenant knows just how far over the line he has crossed.
You make it back on base and head in the direction of the barracks, passing by the dark offices and other buildings that are seemingly empty for the night. It’s late so there are not many places he can be and soon you can see them come into view. That is when you catch a figure leaning against the brick, the light from a cigarette glowing orange dimly in the shadow and you know you have him.
“The fuck is wrong with you?” you spit the venom-filled words to him as you come to stand at his side, arms crossing tightly across your chest as you stop.
The lieutenant ignores you, keeping his face straight ahead as he brings his cigarette up to his lips, ignoring your presence like you aren’t even there as he takes a long drag. The audacity he has to disregard you completely after all he’s been up to behind your back makes your blood boil over and you react fast. Instantly you reach out and rip the dwindling cig out of his fingers to flick it angrily to the ground; only then does he acknowledge your existence.
“Don’t know what your fuckin’ on ‘bout princess,” he grumbles as he pulls out the pack of smokes from his jeans pocket and takes out another cigarette, placing it in between his lips as he lights it up and takes a few short puffs to get it going.
Christ, did you fucking hate when he calls you that, all condescending and shit and he knows it too. That’s why he always uses it, just to watch the way it makes your skin prickle and your pulse race as it riles you up…just like it’s doing right now.
Your cheeks are burning red hot with your anger and you know by the feeling alone that it is visible even in the low light. “You know damn well what I’m talking about,” you accuse. “Thought you could ruin my fun and I would just never hear about it, did you? Well, guess what, I did. Guess you didn’t intimidate the guy back at the bar as good as you thought ‘cause he told me all about how you threatened him into staying away from me and now things around here are starting to make sense.”
So, pretty boy talked after all that scaring he had done; fucking hell, he wasn’t planning on being found out tonight. He can’t deal with this right now; he needs to get away before this gets out of hand. “I’m not doin’ this right now,” he mutters as he flicks away his second cigarette and begins to walk off.
You are right on his heels. “Don’t you fucking walk away from me,” you say as you quickly follow him as he takes off inside to a random room not far from the entrance. You barely register anything about the place, only caring about making sure you are on the right side of the door so he can’t lock you out until you’ve said your peace.
Slamming the door, you press your back up against it. There is nowhere for him to go, not with how you are blocking the exit and it is clear that you won’t be leaving. Goddammit, why tonight? The lieutenant isn’t drunk, but he still has enough liquor running through his veins and he is weary of being alone with you.
You aren’t going to let him be, though; your anger won’t let you. “Well, you got anything to say or are you going to stay silent like a fucking coward?” you ask pointedly.
His fist at his side clenches and unclenches to match his jaw beneath the mask. Gasoline and fire; he can’t stop himself from matching your energy. “Fine, ya wanna know the truth? It was me. You’re distractin’, sergeant,” he says, that heavily accented voice harsh with his assertions. “Throwin’ yourself ‘round like a bloody slag ‘tween the men here and at the bar. Ya like that? Being a cheap piece a meat? Ya think that’s a good look for your rank on this team, hmm?”
You shake your head with a forced incredulous laugh before turning your gaze back to him. The only person who is ever allowed to make decisions about your actions is you; whatever you choose to do or not do isn’t up for debate with any outside party. “What I do on my own time is none of your goddamn business. If I want to screw every member of this operation, I will. If I want to fuck a rando from the bar, so be it. It’s my choice and you need to stay out of it.”
It’s a lie, you have no intention of becoming some barracks bunny, but that doesn’t make the point any less true. There’s nothing wrong with a little companionship from time to time and you aren’t going to let him take that from you. This job is hard enough as it is. Still you can’t shake the question that is floating around in your head.
Why does he care so much to go to all this trouble? Why not just stay away?
The Lt. peers down his nose at you, those striking amber eyes looking at you through the opening in his balaclava to give him a dangerous appearance as they are cloaked in shadow. Standing in front this beast of a man has left many shaking in their boots, but not you, never you. Fuck him if he thinks this bit of intimidation is going to do anything; it’s not.
“It is my goddamn business,” he growls. “Ya talk a big fuckin’ game, but ya don’t know what the hell your doin’. Gonna get yourself in trouble one a these days.”
“Oh, so you’re just looking out for me is that it?” you ask. “I don’t need a savior. I can take care of myself, you know.”
Even he can’t deny that you can handle whatever it is that comes your way. He has worked beside you for quite a while now and there is a reason you were selected to this task force in the first place. No, it isn’t his need to protect that causes him to put himself where he doesn’t belong, but he can’t face the truth; he can’t…can he?
“Besides, what the hell do you care, Lt.?” you spit the question harshly into his face to break him out of his thoughts. “Just like to screw with my life as a part of some goddamn powerplay? You got nothing else better to do than fuck everything up? Pathetic, even for you.”
The lieutenant’s jaw shifts as his dark eyes are silhouetted within the confines of his mask silently stare back into your own. There is a glint in their depths, a catch of the light that makes them glisten as he locks your vision in that stoic glare.
“Watch your fuckin’ tone there, princess,” he warns as he moves in closer until the tips of your shoes are nearly touching. “You are playin’ with fire and if ya ain’t careful, you’re gonna get fuckin’ burned. Ya best quit it now or else.”
Taking your pointer finger, you lean forward and poke the tip of the digit directly onto his sternum over his t-shirt and push down. “Make me.”
Hearing those two deadly words come from your mouth while being this close with emotions this high makes his brain short-circuit and he scrambles to get control of the thoughts at the back of his mind; no, he can’t let them get out. For a split second you catch a flash of something in his gaze that gives you pause and leaves you with a strange but familiar sensation in the pit of your stomach before it is gone just as fast as it came on.
Flustered and confused, you don’t notice that his hand has moved from his side until it is wrapped around your wrist as he wrenches yours off his chest and smacks it against the door, pinning it there next to your head. “You’re on thin fuckin’ ice right now,” he threatens as he gets into your face. “Keep it up and see what happens.”
The lieutenant is so close now the sensation from the warm air leaving his mouth is felt against the lower half of your face even through the fabric of his mask. You can smell the bite from the tobacco and liquor as he exhales a weighty, ragged breath. There is a curious tension permeating the space now, filling the area around your bodies until your chest begins to ache with anticipation for something you can’t put into words.
What are you wanting to happen? You aren’t entirely sure you want to admit it, but still there is a growing impatience that makes your limbs tingle as you wait for the moment to break. “You’re not going to do shit,” you scoff. “I haven’t been touched in fucking months and it’s all your fault; you think I care about showing you respect? The way I see it, you have two options: either leave me the fuck alone or I make your life a waking nightmare until you do.”
Why aren’t you shoving him away? Your wrist is still gripped in his fist and yet you haven’t even tried to free it. Sure, your words are ruthless and heated, but you’re still here and he doesn’t understand what is happening. The atmosphere is shifting and he can feel it like a perplexing magnetism, a push and pull that he is finding harder and harder to fight off. He needs you to leave and quickly as he isn’t sure how long he can last under this growing torment.
“Ya best get out, now,” he growls under his breath. “It ain’t a good idea for you to be here anymore.”
His threat does little to make you back down and instead you tilt your head with a cocky smirk on your lips. “Why’s that? Can’t take the fact that someone can actually stand up to you?”
“Not that,” he says curtly.
“Then what?” you push him for the answer.
Lt. Riley stays closemouthed to your question. How the hell is supposed to answer that when your pulse is pounding through your veins and he can count the rapid beats through his palm that is around your wrist? He can’t do it, he can’t stop the way he craves the feeling of it.
The silence is heavy and dangerous, too much and you aren’t sure what is going to happen, but you can’t leave with nothing; one of the many questions you have has to get a response at least. “Fine, you don’t want to answer that one I’m not gonna make you, but if you want me to leave you are going to have to give me something. I’ll go back to my original question: why do you care about any of this?”
The lieutenant is suffocating on the strength of the tension shared between you. It’s intoxicating, more than the whiskey he’s consumed tonight. Try as he might, he can’t stop himself from wanting more and suddenly the fingers on his free hand are lightly grazing along the waistband of your jeans in that sliver of space between your shirt and your pants where just a millimeter of skin can connect with his touch. It’s too late for him now; he can’t let you go.
Your breath hitches and gets caught in your throat at the electricity of the contact. The longer his touch lingers on your body the more disoriented your thoughts become until you aren’t sure what is happening. You desperately want to slap him, shove him off and storm out, but a secret part of you that has started to glow like a tiny ember in your chest quietly begs for him to keep going.
Why can’t you tell him to stop?
“I can’t let anyone get to ya,” he murmurs with a labored inhale. “Don’t care what it costs.” Those hazel eyes with their blown out pupils never break the connection with yours as his fingers draw a line over your warm, soft skin and suddenly it’s near impossible to pull in enough air to keep you sane.
“Why?” you ask. “Hate to see me enjoying myself? Just want to keep me miserable, is that it?”
Those rough, thick fingers risk a bit more as they slip ever so slightly up so that his palm can rest against the meat of your hip and that’s where he stops. His gaze drifts down just a moment to admire how far his touch has gotten. This is the closest you both have ever been in the time you’ve known each other and it is overwhelming.
A shift in his stance, a half step in closer, his hand still resting against that soft, balmy flesh, and is that the pounding beat of your heart you hear pulsing in your ears? You need him to say something, anything, in hopes that it will break the spell that is making you more delirious by the minute.
“Say it!” you demand as you wrestle with the flood of sensations.
His eyes drift back to your face. “ ‘cause,” he says, that gruff, masculine voice making his words firm, “if I can’t fuckin’ ‘ave ya, then no one can.”
The confession knocks the wind from your lungs and you struggle to intake a breath. This has to be a new game he’s playing at; that’s it, a new tactic to make you lose your shit and destroy you in new ways. There’s no way he is serious, right? You study his gaze for any sign of deception, for him to crack and mock you for falling for it, but all that meets you is a fervent stare that makes your body burn.
“Fucking bastard,” you snarl as your resolve to break away from him slips silently away.
“Slag,” he responds.
A few seconds drag on into eternity as you stare back into those dark eyes, your heartbeats racing faster and faster with each labored breath you intake from one another. This isn’t how this is supposed to go, you are supposed to hate each other, but is that really what it is?
You’re the only one who has always treated him like a person, not some monster to be feared. It’s true you fight and bicker and drive each other mad at times, but not once have you ever backed down from him. You’re headstrong and steadfast in yourself and that is something he respects. And more than that, he desires.
His words, why do they sound so good? If it was anyone else you would have slapped them silly and told them to fuck off, but the way he covets you feels like ecstasy. You enjoyed his attention before and now that you have all of it, it’s all you could ever want. There is an ache in you now that can only be quenched one way and that is from him.
The adrenaline coursing through his veins blurs that thin line between hatred and desire until it no longer exists. As if another is piloting his body he cannot stop. All at once something snaps and before you can fully comprehend the action, he is shoving his body into yours as his hand wraps around your throat. A wall of massive, bulky muscle presses tightly into your curves, pinning you to the surface as he wrenches that god-forsaken mask above his lips and grabbing your face between his hands, those large, rough things that have more experience holding a weapon than something soft and tender within them, he meets your mouth with an insatiable intensity that sends your fucking head spiraling.
Things you’ve both buried deep rise to the surface as the dam breaks wide open, feelings that you both had suppressed under the guise of hatred because you couldn’t…no, you wouldn’t admit that maybe there was something there. It all comes pouring out into the kiss with a feverish urgency as you unsuccessfully scramble to contain them.
There is no restraining this fire of desire from catching you both ablaze.
Lt. Riley’s grip is strong, holding your head in place so there is nowhere for you to turn as the brunt of his need is forced upon your lips until they sting the harder he presses into you while the stumble along his jaw pricks your cheeks and the skin around your mouth. The taste of the bourbon that he had been imbibing all night is on his breath, crisp and sharp as it hits your tongue with its bite, but it does nothing to deter you from taking every ounce of his embrace and matching it with your own.
You want him tighter against you still and your hands run up the back of his head through the cropped bits of hair that have popped out from below the edge of his pulled up mask. The feeling of your fingers running through the short hairs near his neck as you bear down on his mouth make that hulking military man shudder and you sigh delightedly into him at the reaction.
Is it really that easy to make that big man fold? Oh, you are going to use that against him.
Strong fingertips jab themselves into your hip so that he can pull your pelvis flush against his while he shoves his boot between your feet to pry your legs apart, widening your stance so that he can fit his bulky thigh between them. The curve of your hip is accentuated by the position and he runs a heavy hand across the length of it as he pushes up against your pussy and you both gasp into each other’s mouths from the feeling.
That instant pressure against that gnawing ache in your clit has you grinding on his thigh. “Christ, Simon,” his name falls from your lips onto his while you cling to his neck to hold your body up as you push down on him as hard as you can to get enough friction through your clothing. He lets you have at it, using his leg however you see fit until you can feel the gathering moisture in the crotch of your panties.
“Do you even know how much I’ve fuckin’ wanted to do this?” he growls, the feral lust in his words palpable on your tastebuds as he shoves his tongue into your mouth past your lips to meet your own so that they can dance.
He has a taste for you now, a craving that cannot be quenched, an insatiable hunger that eats him alive. And he needs more.
Catching your bottom lip, he sucks it in between his teeth to give it a fierce nip that smarts, but you like the pain; it only makes you feel more alive as the aggressive nature of your attraction makes you feel like you are drowning.
“Fuck, need it now,” you demand desperately. “Where can we go?”
The question makes him pause and Simon pulls from your mouth to look over his shoulder before returning his attention to you. “Ya know where we are, dontcha?” he teases.
Your eyes drift from him and really look at your surroundings for the first time since you got in here; you are in a bedroom, not just a random room like you thought. There is a small chest of drawers beside a bed not far from where you stand and on top is laying that familiar hard shell skull mask.
You’re in his room.
“Shut up,” you breathe. “Just fuck me already, bastard.”
“So fuckin’ nasty,” he says with a smirk before he is back on your mouth again.
Coarse hands desperately paw at your clothes as softer ones claw at his, undoing buttons, pulling off shirts, shoving down pants; a flurry of lips caressing while limbs frantically move until both of you stand bare naked before each other. The last is his mask that he removes himself; he is about to be inside of, there is no need to hide from you anymore.
You barely have time to take in his striking features: that strong jaw accentuated with old, faded scars, that prominent nose, that stern brow, before two strong arms pick you up and carry you the few short steps to his bed, forcing you down and shoving you onto your back so that you are pressed down against the surface as he clambers on top with you. His hands part your legs like warm butter and he keeps them spread as he positions himself on his knees between your thighs.
Quickly he leans over to the short chest of drawers and flings open the bottom most one, reaches inside, and grabs a small, square packet. Holding it between his thumb and forefinger he brings it to his lips and grabs it with his teeth, shredding the top to pull out the rubber. He tosses the packaging to the floor and in one swift motion, slips the condom over the fat tip of his girthy cock and rolls it down the long shaft.
That is it, without another sound he sits back up and clenches his abdominal muscles while his strong fingers hold onto the meat of your hips as he makes sure he is aligned with your entrance. “Ready, princess?” he asks through short, quick breaths.
Your hands grip into his shoulder blades. “Stop fucking talking and get inside me,” you order aggressively.
The tip of his cock is prodding against your opening and you are panting with anticipation as you wait to feel it break through the threshold. It’s right there, right at the point you need it to be to give you the relief you’ve been seeking after the months of agony during your dry spell. Then all at once Simon’s hips rock forward and the head slips inside, stretching you wide open.
You gasp and buck your hips as he gathers the strength for another thrust to slip it in a little more; you are taking him so well. God, he could not ask for more. One more strong thrust and his cock rips into you deep until he reaches the base, bottoming out with a loud, guttural moan.
“N-nh… ah…” Simon groans as he twitches from the constriction around him. “Fuckin’ hell princess, your so tight…oh, f-fuck.”
Breathing through the intense feeling of being stuffed full you roll your hips into him to send shock waves of ecstasy through his shaft and his head falls forward to hang limply as he attempts to calm himself enough that he doesn’t blow his load right here and now just from that initial contact.
“Gimme a second,” he growls, but you shake your head.
“No,” you say, “waited too long for this.”
You will be the death of him and what a fucking sublime death it will be.
Fine, if you want fast and rough that is what you are going to fucking get. He holds on tight as he begins to pound into you hard, making you bounce with the force of his thrusts up and down as he takes you at this unyielding pace. You are anything but fragile and he uses that to his advantage to be as animalistic as he wants.
The longer he drills his cock into you in that relentless tempo the more lost in the feeling he gets until he is completely ravenous only for the sensation of your body. He has waited so long for this, dreamt endlessly of this, yearned in secret for months for this, and it feels exhilarating to finally have it.
His primal grunts fill the room the harder he gets and you are suddenly swept up in it all as your needs are finally being met. You lose yourself in the moment, whimpering and whining as the euphoria washes over your body to make your limbs tingle. Soon you are so loud that you are surely going to draw unwanted attention.
Reaching out his fingers find your lips and roughly he pries them apart so he can shove two of those thick digits inside your mouth. “Keep quiet,” he grunts as he continues to thrust. “Don’t need anyone hearin’ us before I’ve finished with ya.”
Getting you quiet, he needs something for himself and he knows just the thing. Leaning down over your body, his hot mouth latches on to the side of your throat just below your ear and you feel the sharp sting as his teeth dig into the supple flesh. The pressure is so hard from the suction of his lips you can almost feel the skin bubble up further into his mouth; there is no question that there will be a big, angry, purple blotch by tomorrow if he keeps at it. A token of who has claimed you.
And he is going to make sure it sticks.
It is a while before he unlatches his mouth and when he does he brings his lips up from your throat to your ear to fill your mind with only his voice as his hand finds the top of your pussy so that his finger can stroke over your clit. You’re gonna come and you’re gonna come hard if he has anything to do with it. “Look at ya, fallin’ apart just for me, princess. God, I wanna fuckin’ ruin ya.”
Simon pulls his fingers out of your mouth so that he can kiss your raw lips, making you swallow all his desperation until you are gasping for air. “I’d do whatever it takes just have ya all to myself,” he says, the words husky in his throat as he groans them into your mouth. “Need ya to belong to me and only me.”
Simon leaves your mouth to sit up higher, taking the pressure off his knees and pulling your body up slightly with him, and that’s when he catches a glimpse of your bodies at the point of their union and fuck is it a beautiful sight. The way he disappears inside of you is mesmerizing and he doesn’t want to look away, but he also needs you to see it. You need to know how both your bodies are made for each other.
His hand moves to the back of your neck and tilts your face down. “Look at how well your gorgeous body takes me. Do ya think anyone else can give ya this?”
Your dreamy gaze drifts lower between both of your bodies and stares at Simon’s imposing figure with his chiseled abdominal muscles as they contract and release with each thrust, his hips plowing into you, filling you up completely as each of his thrusts go down to the very base of his shaft. Your mind is in a daze as you feel him hit that sensitive bundle of nerves within you time and again before his shaft reappears covered more and more with your juices over the condom.
There is something so primal about watching his cock slip in and out of your tight body, watching as you slowly fall into oblivion.
His amber eyes catch yours and he smirks. Your cheeks are flushed bright and it thrills him to know that it is because of how he makes your body feel. “Fuckin’ hell, you’re a picture wrapped ‘round my cock like this,” he groans, his strokes becoming more sloppy as the slapping sounds of your overly wet cunt get louder.
The longer he thrusts the more his sanity wanes until there is not a single thought left except for the animalistic need to rut into you until he comes. You can see the change wash over his face and through his eyes and it only thrills you more as he becomes a hunter ready to catch his prey; it makes you shiver.
“Ya like the way my cock feels inside ya, dontcha?” he asks in a low growl. “Fillin’ ya full, stretchin’ ya out. Ya think anyone else can give it to ya like this? Ya think anyone else is gonna make ya come as hard as I’m gonna fuckin’ make ya? This pussy is gonna belong ta me after I’m done with it.”
Ragged, broken moans escape your lips while your hips rut up to meet him at the height of each thrust as his voice begins to push you over. Your hands around his shoulders tense and as he strikes into you again your nails dig in, raking across his back in angry red lines that tingle and burn as you drag them down over his muscles. Oh, you are definitely close.
“Ya gonna come for me, princess?” he teases mercilessly, desperately clinging to you as he too is about to spill and wanting you to go first. “Do it then. Come on my fuckin’ cock.”
The way this beast of a man is wrapped around your body, you are completely at his mercy, his size letting him do with you as he pleases and you have no say whatsoever. And yet here he is furiously pounding into you harder and harder as his fingertip strokes at your clit; he is doing his utmost to get you off even though he could leave you high and dry at any moment.
Never have you ever wanted someone to take away your power more than you want him to right now.
Your hands leave his body only to gather in the sheets, gripping them so tight you can hear threads popping and feel the strain on your fingers. Each slam of that throbbing cock into you causes the warmth to grow in your stomach, each second that passes the pressure gets stronger and stronger. Finally at long last, you fall completely silent and with a few more desperate thrusts that pressure is released and shoots through you white hot as you come hard and fast.
Simon continues to grind into your pussy through your whimpers as he lets himself go and within a few more seconds he too is falling over that ledge, his torso shuddering with the force of his orgasm as he pumps all that built up frustration into the tip of the condom inside you. His hips buck and are punctuated with deep groans until he has nothing left to release and he slowly comes to a stop, his hands rubbing up and down your thighs to help him catch his breath again.
You both stay locked that way as you calm yourselves back down from the high, your legs trembling around his waist, the sound of his inhales the only thing to break the quiet that falls over the room. Once he is able to he pulls out and falls down onto the bed beside you.
Moving onto your side, you look over at him with a smirk. “Well, shit, never would have expected that,” you mutter sleepily.
He turns his head to face you. “Is that right?” he asks in that low, gravely tone that sends a shiver down your spine. “As if you haven’t been flauntin’ yourself to keep my attention. Was bound to happen sooner or later.”
“Like you haven’t been undressing me with your eyes for months now,” you push back. “I’ve noticed the way you look at me.”
Reaching out his arm, his fingers lock into your hair, tying it into a ponytail in his grip before he gives it a strong tug. “Yeah well we’re gonna change that. Cause I wanna be the only person ya look at, princess,” he says harshly so you know he means business, “the only one that holds your attention, the only that gets ta be in your ‘ead. I’m gonna be the only one that gets between your legs and no one else; I wanna be the one that knows just how ta make ya fall apart. And any bastard that tries to get in my way is going to fuckin’ get it.”
You chuckle. “Possessive much,” you say snarkily only to receive a solid tug on your hair.
“Absolutely gonna be selfish with ya,” he returns as he brings your face in closer, “cause I would rather fuckin’ die than watch anyone else take this away from me.”
Pulling your head to him, Simon licks the smile from his lips before latching onto your mouth one last time. Maybe you two can find common ground after all…can’t be too mad at each other when you’re making each other orgasm.
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