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cherienymphe · 7 months

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Smells Like Teen Spirit (Rafe Cameron x Reader)

Warnings: NON/DUB-CON, abusive relationship, domestic violence, attempted murder + suicide, mentions of blood, loss of virginity, underage drinking, jealousy, kook!reader

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies | divider by @firefly-graphics

➥ cont.

summary: Being one half of the royal couple of Figure 8 isn't what it's cracked up to be.

The first time Rafe hit you, it was on your birthday.

Like every year, your parents threw you a big party that hosted no less than a hundred people. A good number of those people were friends from school and familiar faces you’d grown up with. The other bunch were family friends that had more in common with your parents than you. You took their pretty cards filled with money and thanked them with a smile, relieved when they scampered off to congregate with the other forty somethings.

It was the same party every year. Half the people of Figure 8 in attendance, an abundance of gifts you could barely keep up with, and a light scold or two from your mother to smile and greet the next person who came in. Your hair was flawless and your dress was the perfect length.

The only difference this year was the presence of a boyfriend at your side.

“Rafe, if my dad sees us, I will never hear the end of it.”

Your tone was light and teasing, and you said it with a smile, but there was a hint of seriousness there. It really didn’t matter how older you grew to be, you were sure you’d always be your daddy’s little girl. The older man already hadn’t been the most excited when you told him you were dating Rafe Cameron, Ward Cameron’s son, and you were positive that the Cameron family’s reputation was Rafe’s only saving grace.

You’d just turned eighteen then after all and was already flaunting your new adult status.

The blue-eyed boy in front of you merely chuckled, tightening his arms around your waist and leaning in to kiss you again. The house and the yard were filled with almost too many people, so you hadn’t hesitated when Rafe discreetly guided you upstairs.

“He’s too busy talking about his new boat, isn’t he?” he wondered. “He’ll talk all night if they let him.”

You lightly tapped his chest, but you didn’t voice any disagreement.

Your back was leaning against your bedroom door, the muffled sounds of some classical music reaching your ears through the wall. Rafe’s hands were tight on your waist, and you both felt and heard him chuckle again, his lips still pressed against yours. Only this time, he kept laughing—softly and to himself—and you gave him a slight frown when he pulled away.

“I was just thinking…” Rafe pulled you close again. “How hilarious it would be if he was going on and on about that damn boat…none the wiser to his daughter getting fucked on her birthday right upstairs.”

This time you hit him a little harder, and Rafe only laughed again.

“You’re not funny,” you scolded, deflating a little as you pulled away from him. “Way to ruin the mood.”

You said it quietly as you sat down on the edge of your bed, but Rafe heard it clearly, and when you looked up at him, you recognized the look on his face instantly.

“Funny,” he started, shoving his hands into his pockets and leaning against the door. “Mentioning sex usually has the opposite effect on most people.”

You rolled your eyes with a turn of your head, looking towards your window. The atmosphere was different, now, and you didn’t know if it was your fault or Rafe’s. He joked like that sometimes, and you knew it, so you could recognize that maybe you were being too sensitive.

The topic at hand, however, was a sensitive one for you.

“I really don’t want to have this fight, right now,” you mumbled.

You could feel his gaze on you, but you didn’t return it, determined to just stare down at the people in your yard. The air was thick, the tension even thicker, and you reached up to rub your arms, trying to rid them of the goosebumps that had appeared. Rafe hated being ignored, and you knew that, but you couldn’t bring yourself to continue the conversation because you knew what was brewing.

Rafe was the perfect boyfriend. He was pretty—the kind of pretty that even some girls would be jealous of. He came from the kind of family that taught him about manners and respect. He never hesitated to do what he could to make your life easier despite growing up wanting for nothing. You didn’t think it was possible for an already spoiled girl to be spoiled some more until you started dating Rafe and he proved you wrong. He treated you like a princess, so yes. Rafe was the perfect boyfriend.

Mostly.

“I’ve been really understanding, you know…”

Rafe’s voice was low, and your gaze dropped to your lap.

“…but we’ve been dating for what? Eight months?”

You swallowed, eyes burning.

“Do you know how hard Topper and Kelce would laugh at me if they knew my girlfriend of almost a year refuses to have sex with me?”

You scoffed, finally looking at him, brows pulled together.

“You make it sound like I’m punishing you,” you breathed. “Rafe, this has nothing to do with you, I… I’m just not ready.”

“…and still no ETA on when you will be, huh?”

You blinked at him, lips parting at his callous tone and words. You looked away, blinking back tears because you would hate it if you cried on your birthday of all days.

“You’re being an asshole.”

You whispered it, and you heard Rafe huff.

“I’m not trying to be,” he told you, and you heard him move closer. “…but come on. I get it…”

The bed dipped as he sat down next to you, and you felt his hand on your face, fingers grazing your cheek.

“You’re nervous, and it seems scary, but you’re treating me like I’m some stranger on the street, and not…your boyfriend. You know I’ll take care of you. I always take care of you, and that’s why I don’t understand it,” he bit out. “I treat you like gold, and here I am, eight months in and wondering if you even feel the same way.”

You whipped your head around to stare at him in disbelief, looking between his eyes. You didn’t know how he could be serious, but as you gazed at him, you realized that Rafe was very serious. You took a moment to scoot away from him just a tad.

“I show you everyday how much you mean to me, Rafe…but because I won’t have sex with you that means I don’t love you? So just forget all the other stuff, I guess,” you sneered.

Rafe reached for you when you started to turn away, shaking your head and lightly pushing at his hands. Today was your birthday, and you were fighting with your boyfriend…because sex was something you just weren’t ready for. You snatched your arm out of his hold, standing on unsteady legs.

“When you first brought this up, I told you then that I wasn’t ready, and you made it clear you were okay with waiting. Was that a lie?” you asked him, meeting his gaze.

Rafe ran his hand down his face, huffing to himself.

“No, but I just didn’t think I’d still be waiting almost half a year later.”

He was standing, now too.

“So, why are you? No one’s forcing you to stay here, Rafe,” you sadly told him with a shrug. “You don’t have to be with me if sex is that damn important to you. There are plenty of other girls out there who will happily give you what I don’t want to.”

You crossed your arms over your chest.

“…and I know because I see the looks they give you…and the looks they give me.”

You were used to envy. You’d been on the receiving end of it all your life. Growing up on this side of the island guaranteed that from birth, but you also knew it was because your standing was only rivaled by Sarah Cameron. If Rafe’s sister were anyone else, you might have found yourself involved in some one-sided rivalry, but Sarah was a lot like you.

Just a girl born into fortunate circumstances.

However, what you weren’t used to was envy because of the man you loved. When it came to your house and your lifestyle and everything else, it never bothered you because no one could take those things from you. Rafe, on the other hand… You knew what he was like and what he was used to. It was why you’d been very honest about your sexual history and lack thereof from almost the beginning. If Rafe was going to leave you for someone else all because you wouldn’t have sex with him, you would have rather he do it early.

Not now…not eight months in because now you loved him, and the thought made you want to cry, and it would take just as many months to get over him.

“If I wanted any of those other spoiled bitches then I wouldn’t be here,” Rafe told you. “Besides, you think I’m just going to walk away with nothing after investing so much time and money and energy into you?”

You reared back at that, eyes widening just a tad, and Rafe seemed to realize how that came out. He sighed, reaching for you just as you stepped away from him. You heard him curse when you left the room, ignoring the sound of him calling your name as you hurried to mix yourself in with all of your guests downstairs.

Rafe talked about you like some business investment he was waiting to get a return on. It hurt, a lot, and while you wanted to believe he hadn’t meant it like that in his head, you couldn’t help but to wonder if that was really how he saw you. Your mother smiled at you when she saw your face, none the wiser to your temporary absence. Your own smile was forced as she introduced you to their new golfing buddies.

You didn’t know when Rafe came back downstairs, only quickly glancing away when your eyes connected with his after some time. If your parents noticed your distance from him, they didn’t comment on it, and after a while, you barely noticed it yourself. You immersed yourself in your friends, halfway listening to boyfriend troubles and semester woes.

This was the only thing you and Rafe ever fought about. Plenty of your friends had boyfriends before who tried to pressure them into doing things they didn’t want to do. You were always the friend to tell them to dump them without hesitation, so why hadn’t you done the same? Was it because Rafe was so perfect in all other aspects of your relationship? The back and forth hadn’t ever been so serious before…not until tonight.

As you sipped on the drink you weren’t supposed to be having, you remembered the hurt you felt when Rafe implied you didn’t love him. What a crazy thing to say. You treated him just as well as he treated you, never mind the fact that you told him every day how much you loved him…but because you wouldn’t fuck him that meant otherwise?

It was enough to make you angry.

“Finally stopped hiding from me…?”

You tensed up for half a second, relaxing with a sigh as you heard him come closer. You were out by the water, now, sitting on the boat dock with one leg swinging. It had been nothing but just you and your thoughts for a good thirty minutes, and you guessed it took that amount of time for Rafe to realize you were no longer in the house.

“I don’t know yet,” you honestly told him.

“I didn’t mean it like that. You know I didn’t,” Rafe quietly said, getting straight to the point.

“…but I don’t know. You don’t even think I love you just because I won’t have sex with you. For all I know, that’s exactly how you see me,” you mumbled.

“You’re being ridiculous.”

“Says the guy ruining my birthday!”

You were looking up at him, now, tearfully, and you shook your head. Saying it aloud made you realize just how shitty it was, and you sniffed, pulling yourself to your feet.

“Just go home, Rafe…”

He stopped you from walking by him, and you ignored anything he was trying to say. The more he leaned in, that was when you smelled it, and your frown deepened at the stench of alcohol on his breath. You didn’t know why the smell made you so angry. It was a party, after all, but maybe it was the fact that if anyone of the two of you deserved to drown their sorrows in booze, it was you. Not Rafe. Pushing at his chest, you scoffed.

“One argument…and you’re already getting drunk?”

You jerked your face away from his hand, glowering at him.

“Don’t you want to at least wait for Ward to give you the daily disappointment speech?”

The slap wasn’t as hard as it could’ve been, but it was hard enough to make your face burn.

You were staring at the water from when your head had whipped to the side, and when a nightly breeze blew by, kissing your skin, only then did the dull burning sensation fade away into a painful one. Your lips were parted in shock, and you were slow to reach up and touch your cheek. The silence was loud, and when you finally looked at Rafe, he looked as shocked as you felt.

All of your breath had left you, and your brain was short-circuiting, desperately trying to reconcile your boyfriend with the same guy who’d just slapped you. It didn’t seem real, and yet the dull pain you felt said otherwise. A few tears escaped against your will, and it was only then did Rafe move. His face fell, but you were already backing away.

“Y/N-.”

“Don’t touch me,” you tearfully spat. “What is wrong with you?”

He didn’t listen, grabbing your arms anyway, and you were still in too much shock to really fight back. Rafe cooed at you, trying to take your face into his hands no matter how much you protested. You wanted him far away from you, and your brain was unsure of how to achieve that, still grappling with the memory of his palm connecting with your cheek.

“Hey, I didn’t… I didn’t mean to do that,” he whispered, wrapping an arm around you and pulling you close. “Baby, stop.”

You shoved at his chest, hitting it, but he wasn’t deterred. He only rested his free hand on the back of your head, holding you against him, and the feel had more tears spilling over. You kept trying to get away, but Rafe refused to let you, repeatedly apologizing and shushing you. You could feel the cool metal of his ring against your scalp, his lips there too as he kept telling you he was sorry.

Your chest was so tight, and it ached just as much as your face. Your mind was still fighting to make sense of what had happened tonight, and despite Rafe’s apologies for his entire behavior, you told yourself that this was the last straw. Rafe had ruined your birthday in more ways than one, and you were done. You had to be.

…because you deserved better.

The first time you had sex with Rafe—with anyone ever—you’d been terrified.

…and drunk.

An entire month after your birthday, and you didn’t know if you were more shocked or angry that you stayed with Rafe. You had been so determined to leave him that night. He had ruined your birthday beyond repair, and you knew that anytime you looked back on the night you turned nineteen, you’d only remember Rafe slapping you on the dock.

…but you’d also remember his profuse apologies, and the tears in his eyes as he begged you to forgive him.

He was drunk. That was what he kept saying, that he was drunk and acted before thinking. It was barely a reason and certainly wasn’t an excuse, so why did you stay? It was stupid to stay…and yet you did. You let Rafe kiss your face and lead you back to the party that had long died and smile in the face of the parents whose daughter he’d just hit.

You’d answered the phone as he called you, taking almost half an hour to just tell you again how sorry he was and how he didn’t know what came over him and how it would never happen again. You’d never known Rafe to be so apologetic in all the time you’d been dating him. It would’ve been sweet if it weren’t for the circumstances, and the whole time, you’d only been able to listen in silence with your fingers grazing your face.

You hadn’t been able to look him in the eye for days, going over it in your head again and again. Torn between listening to your gut and telling yourself that it had just been a one-off thing, a bad drunken night. After all, what you’d said to him hadn’t been the nicest, knowing how he felt in regard to Ward and his relationship with him. It didn’t make it right…but you had provoked Rafe. You’d said it to hurt him…to make him angry… Right?

…but that wasn’t the case a month later.

Things between you and Rafe hadn’t been the same since. He still doted on you, and your parents still adored him, and you were reluctant to admit you still loved him, but you could never get that night out of your mind. You could never forget how swift it had been, how no thought to you had been spared. Rafe had only been focused on retaliating, hurting you, and it was something you often struggled with. You believed it wouldn’t happen again…but what if it did?

Without even realizing it, you became less argumentative with the blond. You gave him less pushback, you smiled more and became more agreeable to his suggestions. You spent more time with him, making him happy. You believed him when he said it wouldn’t happen again, but in the back of your mind, something in you was doing everything you could think of to make sure it didn’t.

…and that was why you still didn’t quite understand how the fight had started.

Something about Topper…or Kelce.

You were so drunk, it was hard to remember.

“I saw you!”

You had blinked at Rafe from your place on the couch, staring up at him in wonder and confusion. Another Friday meant another party, and promising your mother you’d be back by a certain time, you’d allowed Rafe to help you into his truck. Nothing about the night had been out of the ordinary, and it was why you found yourself wracking your brain.

“Rafe, I… I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you softly told him, trying to understand why he was so mad.

The only son of Ward Cameron knocked the glass of water right out of your hand, and you flinched at the action, blinking at the sight of shattered glass on the floor. You’d gotten it to try and help you sober up before you went home, and you stared at the spilled water with parted lips. You were too drunk to fully grasp the severity of the situation you were now in.

Suddenly Rafe was there, too close, leaning down over you with his hands resting on the back of the couch. You leaned back and away from him, eyes wide as he looked at you like you were something he’d find on the bottom of his shoe. Like he was so disgusted with the sight of you, and again, you wracked your brain to understand what you’d done. To understand how to fix this.

Rafe’s blue gaze had been cold, icy, and you hadn’t missed the tick of his jaw. The alcohol in your system hindered your thinking, and that had seemed to make Rafe angrier, like he was furious you couldn’t put it together. Read his mind. Overwhelmed, you hadn’t been able to stop a few tears of frustration from escaping, and that just seemed to really send him over the edge.

“You were in his lap,” he had bit out, and only then did you finally understand.

Your odd relationship with your boyfriend these days had driven you to drink more than you ever had. You’d been sloppy…clumsy, and Topper was nice enough to help you back to your feet after you’d quite literally fallen right onto his lap. You wanted to laugh at the ridiculousness of it all, but one look into Rafe’s eyes had you swallowing it down.

He was very serious…and very angry.

You reached for him, but Rafe only slapped your hands away, straightening and looking down his nose at you. It was a look that made you feel so…cold, and with one blink, you remembered that you were alone. Sarah was God knows where, and the remaining Camerons had gone out to eat. The house was usually empty during this time, but it wasn’t this Friday night.

It consisted of you…and your angry boyfriend.

“I should…I should go. Call my mom,” you mumbled, pushing yourself to your feet.

Your attempts to get by Rafe went unsuccessful, and with each block to your path, something deep within your gut just…dropped. Your gaze met a familiar blue one, and nothing about it was warm, welcoming. Rafe seemed to be so mad at you about something so silly, but instead of just talking about it later when you were both much clearer headed…he didn’t want to let you leave.

“Is that what you’re gonna do?” he’d mocked, a mean look on his face. “Call mommy and daddy to come get you?”

Sarah.

You reminded of him of Sarah.

That was what he’d said, what he’d thrown at you. His tense relationship with the other girl was no secret to anyone, least of all you, and you winced at every insult he threw at you. Spoiled brat. Perfect princess. Uptight prude. It shocked you for a lot of reasons, but mostly because Rafe wasn’t drunk. He wasn’t sober, but you’d hardly seen him drink all night and not nearly as much as you, and he was insulting you with confidence, throwing all of these things at you that you never knew he felt.

“I’m just going to go home, okay? You’re being an asshole, and I don’t know why, so I just…”

At some point, your back was grazing the wall, and Rafe was hovering before you, a look in his eye like leaving was the very last thing he wanted you to do. Every move of yours was mirrored, every turn met with one of his own, and for the first time ever…you were afraid of your boyfriend.

When Rafe hit you that night, you hadn’t been scared. Not really. You’d been angry…shocked…disbelieving. Not scared though. You’d just wanted to be away from him, you had even wanted to hit him back, but not once did you remember feeling scared for your life. Not like this night, and you couldn’t keep it together.

“Rafe, please, I just…I just wanna go home,” you choked out, touching your temple. “We can talk about this tomorrow.”

You were so confused as to how you got here. The night had taken such an unexpected turn, and more than anything, you wanted to sleep it off and write the whole thing off as a bad dream. You wanted to get some more water and take a shower and skip to the part where you had a pounding headache in the morning. You didn’t understand how a night of partying had turned into an argument with your boyfriend.

Although, you supposed it wasn’t much of an argument. Mostly Rafe yelling at you and you trying to understand why. Rafe was determined to make this into something it wasn’t, and when it became clear that he wasn’t going to let you leave without dead-ing this whole thing, you frowned at him.

“I fell. You know I fell, you know…”

Your words died in the air as Rafe rolled his eyes, and something in you was telling you that Rafe was going to believe what he wanted to believe. He was determined to make something true, and it startled you to realize that you’d lost this argument before it even began. Slipping from in between Rafe and the wall was a mistake.

A mistake that had consequences.

Your purse was halfway across the room before you could even grab it good, Rafe suddenly in your face again. He was yelling about a whole bunch of nothing, and when you turned from him again, Rafe made sure it was the last time, gripping your upper arm so hard that you actually cried out. His other hand followed suit, and he shook you, hard enough to make your head whip back and forth.

The only time he listened to you was when you asked him to let you go.

…and he did just that…shoving you in the process.

The kitchen counter slowed your fall only a bit, but it added to the pain more than anything else. Trying to get up proved fruitless, because Rafe was there, kneeling before you with one hand on the counter. The other was on your face, forcing you to look at him. You were too drunk to make full sense of everything he was saying, to grasp the danger you were in. When you finally did, it was too late.

…because Rafe was already ripping the dress he bought you a week ago.

You thought it was a joke at first—some awful and insensitive scare tactic—until you were reaching up to pull at the hand around your throat. Your other hand slapped at the cabinets below in panic, and with a knee between your legs, it was impossible to close them. You knew that you were alone, but that fact didn’t stop you from crying out.

“You really expect me to just watch you throw yourself at my friends? Huh?”

The kitchen floor was cool against your back.

“…and laugh about it?”

He was fumbling between you both, and the room was spinning too much for you to understand why. You felt nauseous, and Rafe was hurting you, and you were cold. Not to mention that your head had started to hurt, but you also realized that everything was hurting.

“But you won’t even touch me.”

You felt like you’d been punched in the gut…only lower.

The pain of Rafe’s intrusion had you wailing, and the difference in your reactions couldn’t have been starker. It was hard to decipher, but you were sure that Rafe had moaned, a low drawn-out sigh as he sheathed himself inside of you. You could feel Rafe’s chest heaving against yours, could feel his heartbeat, could even hear his shaky breath.

You, on the other hand…

You couldn’t move. You felt frozen, restricted by something unseen, and when you tried to fight against it, you gasped. One shift had you wincing, and tears spilled over almost immediately. Your hands were pressing against his chest, now, desperately trying to push Rafe away, pushing off of you… out of you. It was no good, Rafe in a whole other world you weren’t privy too as he pulled back.

The feel had you wincing again, and you thought…

Well, you thought wrong.

Your relief was short-lived, and Rafe ignored everything you said as he started to thrust inside of you. His hips barely left yours, only enough to create friction, and you pushed your forearm against his neck, fighting to get him to stop. The pain wasn’t something you could wrap your head around, and you didn’t know if you were grateful or not that you were so drunk.

Every snap of Rafe’s hips made you cry harder, harsh sobs escaping and echoing in the otherwise silent kitchen. The sound of your bawling was only rivaled by the groans that escaped Rafe, your boyfriend pointedly ignoring your plight. One of his hands pushed against your face, forcing your head to the side…as if he didn’t want to see your face.

See the reality of what he was doing to you.

You thought at some point that the pain would go away, subside, but it felt like it only got worse with each thrust of his cock. Rafe was a man on a mission with only one objective in mind, and you were having the hardest time sorting your thoughts, realizing that in this moment you were a means to an end. An objective to be met through the use of your body.

…but you supposed it was more than just that.

Rafe was always entitled, a trait you found somewhat endearing much like towards an entitled child, but it hadn’t occurred to you that he’d feel entitled to you too. Before the night of your birthday, you knew the one thorn in your relationship, the one thing to actually put a crack in your relationship. Deep down somewhere, you expected Rafe to just leave you. After all, why wouldn’t you?

There was no universe in which you’d ever consider the possibility of the alternative.

The possibility that your boyfriend would just take what he wanted.

It didn’t last long—or maybe that was the alcohol in your system sparing you—but you couldn’t even be relieved. Even after Rafe pulled out, spent and satisfied and out of breath, the pain still remained. He was talking, and you didn’t know if he was talking to himself or you, but you paid it no mind. You could still feel him deep in your gut, and you rolled onto your side, curling into yourself.

You didn’t hear him the first time, but the second time Rafe told you to get up, he was forcing you to your feet. It hurt, and you could barely walk, and your confusion only grew. His hold was tight, and his tone sounded off, and you discovered why when headlights from the yard bled through the windows and into your line of sight.

He was rushing you to get upstairs, but you kept stumbling from both the pain and your blurry vision. Rafe didn’t let you go until you were just inside of his room, and as you collapsed to the floor, you could hear the door opening downstairs. You couldn’t stop crying even if you wanted to, and you hadn’t even realized Rafe had left—to give some half-baked excuse for the broken glass, no doubt—until he returned, suddenly kneeling at your side and begging you to stop crying.

You tried to push him away, but your movements were sluggish, weak, and you weren’t able to hold your own as he pulled you to your feet. Rafe stumbled into the bathroom with you, an arm around you and holding you up as he started the shower. You didn’t want him touching you, but you were physically unable to stop him. Every step hurt and made you stumble, every wave of your arm made you sway, and when the warm water ran over you both, there was nothing you could do as he washed away every remnant of his assault.

You were at Rafe’s side on his birthday, a small smile on your lips as he kept an arm around your waist. Rose thanked you for coming, not that she would expect anything different, and Wheezie asked if you would be staying over. The youngest Cameron had taken a liking to you—all of them did really—and she looked forward to having you around. You wanted to tell her no, but that wasn’t what you said. Instead, you said:

“Its’ Rafe’s birthday. Why wouldn’t I?”

The dark-haired girl beamed, adjusting her glasses, and her satisfaction was contagious. You knew that Rafe’s dynamic with his family was tricky at the best of times, and while you were sure they loved you just fine, something in you also wondered if they liked who Rafe was when he was around you. They were happy to host you for as long as they could.

They had no idea that it was only 24 hours earlier when Rafe tried to kill you.

Trying to leave Rafe resulted in the last thing you ever expected.

That night—and all the other nights that followed—haunted you. When you closed your eyes, you could only see Rafe at his lowest, holding you down and hurting you. You could only feel the pain of him forcing himself inside of you, and the pain that lingered when he was no longer there. The memory of bloody water swirling down the drain was a constant in your mind. As well as the memory of Rafe putting you in his bed, pulling his shirt down to your knees.

You should have left the night of your birthday, you should’ve gotten out then, and none of it would have ever happened, but you told yourself that late was better than never. You told yourself that you learned your lesson and you didn’t have to experience any more hurt to leave. Your eyes were open, and while you didn’t know if you’d ever go against Rafe legally for what he did, you did know that you were leaving him. You had to focus on each step at once. Trying to think so far ahead was enough to scare you.

Right now, you just needed to leave him.

His entire visage had been eerily calm as you broke up with him, voice shaking as you did. Even he hadn’t been able to deny how your relationship had deteriorated, become something unrecognizable and unhealthy. The morning after, you felt like you were existing outside of your body. You could see Rafe leaving apologetic kisses along your face as you stirred, but you couldn’t really feel it. You couldn’t feel his hands either, not until they found a home between your legs, at least.

Your protest was almost immediate, but Rafe had assured you it was fine…and you were scared.

So, you believed him.

Experiencing pain and pleasure at the same time was foreign to you. Rafe’s previous assault was not something to be ignored, but it felt odd to come around him and hiss from the pain of it at the same time. He was gentle, pressing his lips to yours and grazing his fingertips against your skin. His thrusts had been slow and careful, but the damage had been done, and every push of his hips brought out conflicting reactions.

That was how it always went.

Even after the pain and bruises were long gone, you couldn’t stop being afraid of Rafe. After all, he’d made it perfectly clear that he wouldn’t respect any kind of refusal from you. What kind of relationship was that? How could you thrive in that? Rafe may have been your first everything, but you weren’t naïve. He was an abusive asshole…and you were just too scared to do something about it.

Until last night.

You thought it would be easy. You even remembered internally laughing at yourself for how dramatic you’d made it in your mind. You thought… You thought that Rafe would move on, let you go. After all, he’d finally gotten what he wanted, and you had even exhaled when he nodded, a soft ‘okay’ soon to follow.

“Let me drive you home,” he’d said.

“Okay,” you’d replied.

You didn’t know why you thought it would be that easy.

Things with Rafe hadn’t been easy in months, and your attempted breakup was no different.

You realized that when the needle on the speedometer started to rapidly climb, the sound of Rafe’s revving engine loud in the truck. You asked him what was going on, where he was going, even though deep down you knew. You knew Rafe better than anyone probably, so you knew the answers to your questions before you even asked them.

“Rafe, stop,” you’d begged, reaching for his arm, but the blond simply fixed you with a wry smile.

“Why?” he’d wondered with a shrug. “So, you can leave me? Why would I want that?”

The houses and trees were flying past you outside the window, and you never felt more powerless than in the moment you were trapped in Rafe’s truck, unable to do a thing as he raced down the road towards the end he’d already picked out for the both of you. Any attempt to grab the wheel only resulted in Rafe jerking it—jerking the vehicle in the process—and scaring the shit out of you.

Retracting everything you’d said earlier only resulted in a harsh slap to the steering wheel, a dry laugh from Rafe soon to follow.

“You think I believe that load of shit? Huh?”

“Rafe-!”

“You just tried to break up with me not even thirty minutes ago,” he screamed.

He wasn’t wrong, and you still wanted to, but you were more afraid of dying than living a lie. You pleaded with your boyfriend, assuring him that you didn’t mean it. He only laughed again, and you got the feeling that Rafe was genuinely amused by you. By your tears, by your fear, and by your desperation.

Your heart was racing so fast it could be classified as painful. Your hands were sweating and constantly sliding against the door from where you tried to hold on to it. You pulled at his arm when he swerved into the other lane, swerving back just in time to miss an oncoming truck. Your stomach twisted painfully, bile rising in your throat, and at this point you couldn’t even see the road because of your tears.

“Rafe, please, please just talk to me,” you cried.

His knuckles were white as he gripped the wheel, blue eyes focused on the road with not a glance spared towards you, and you pressed your hand to your mouth. You looked out of the window again, unable to make out a thing, and when you reached for Rafe this time, he didn’t slap your hand away. He didn’t protest when you wrapped your arm around his waist, leaning into him and resting your hand against his chest.

You knew that your tears were staining his shirt, and you didn’t know if you stopped fighting as some unconscious tactic or simply because you were accepting what was impossible to escape. Rafe had to have been going a hundred miles an hour, this kind of speed something your brain could barely fathom. It was after some time when you felt his hand on your head and some time after that when you gradually felt the truck slowing.

You were still shaking long after it came to a stop in some wooded area, and the silence in the vehicle was loud. Rafe was just playing with your hair while you trembled against him, and when he stopped, it was only to trail his hand to your neck, gripping the back of it harshly as he forced you to sit up. You knew you looked as distraught as you felt, but Rafe…

Rafe looked calm and in control and nothing less.

His blue eyes ran over your face, drinking in your trembling lips and wet cheeks, lingering on your wide eyes the longest. You felt him rub his thumb along your skin, and when he hummed, it harshly pressed against the side of your neck. Suddenly, the corner of his pink lips curved just the slightest, and nothing about it was soothing.

“I wasn’t serious… You know that, right?”

You didn’t respond because he wasn’t kidding, and you both knew it. Rafe shifted, moving closer, and he brought his other hand up to touch your cheek, wiping your tears away. He studied your eyes, leaning in and grazing your lips.

“It was just…something I didn’t mean. You understand though. Doing things…saying things we don’t mean,” he slowly said to you, swiping his tongue between his lips. “Right…?”

The drop in his voice and the slight raise of his brows had you swallowing, and he was looking at you like he dared you to disagree. Fighting the urge to throw up, and with a shaky nod, you told Rafe what he wanted to hear.

“Right,” you whispered, and he chuckled.

“Alright,” he breathed with a blinding smile, pulling you into his side. “Kelce is throwing together some small thing at his house. I told him we might stop by…”

He trailed off, leaving room for a comment, and you only shrugged.

“That’s fine with me.”

Your voice was barely audible, but Rafe heard you fine, starting the truck and pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“I knew it would be.”

You’d been quiet the whole night, and you’d been quiet all day, only existing as silent support to Rafe on his birthday. If anyone noticed your reserved demeanor, no one commented on it. No one knew that as you wished Rafe a happy birthday, you were afraid of what could happen if you didn’t smile hard enough. When he kissed you, you could only think of how he’d kissed you after threatening to kill you both. Every time Rafe held your hand, it felt like a chain tethering you to him.

You dreaded the moment the party would thin out and everyone would start trickling from the home in pairs, heading back to the comfort of their own homes until just Rafe and his family remained. Eventually they would call it a night too, and you and Rafe would be alone, and you wouldn’t have a choice but to kiss him back when he eventually kissed you.

…and kiss you he did.

“You almost ruined my birthday, you know,” he mumbled into the kiss, making you pause for half a second.

Your only response was a quiet apology, and Rafe sighed into your mouth.

“That’s okay, baby,” the blond purred. “You know I’ll let you make it up to me.”

You were terrified of your boyfriend, and that was why you let him undress you. You let him wrap his arms around you and hold you close and press kisses to your skin. It was surreal to have sexy with someone you were afraid of, like you were being held hostage in your own body. If Rafe noticed—and you were sure that he did—he didn’t care.

He was content to lay you down and bury his face into the crook of your neck. In fact, you were sure Rafe liked your fear, liked that you were so scared of him. You thought it made it all the more fun for him to push his cock into you and feel you tremble in fear. You just knew there was something in Rafe that took great pleasure in making you momentarily sacrifice your fear of him for ecstasy instead.

He forced your head back, and your chest arched upwards into him. You gasped at the feel of his tongue on your skin, gliding over a hardened bud and tasting you. His hips came down slowly, like he was savoring the feel of you clinging to his cock. He sighed with every thrust, and you were never able to swallow down your own moans once Rafe started stroking that fire building within you.

“Fuck,” he groaned, nipping at your lip as he plunged his cock into you.

One of your legs were thrown over his shoulder, and the stretch burned in a way that wasn’t painful but wasn’t the best either. One of your hands was wrapping around his arm, trying to ground yourself as the other twisted into his sheets. You couldn’t stop gasping, clenching down on him every time Rafe hit that spot in you that made you lose your breath.

When he pushed your leg back more, you yelped in pain, but Rafe only hummed. His thrusts became rougher, and he only hummed again when you hissed. Your hand rested on his chest, pushing against him slightly—a nonverbal communication—but Rafe ignored it.

“Rafe…”

His hips were slapping against yours, and you couldn’t even pretend to enjoy it. Your other hand came up too, and he slapped it away, that same hand wrapped around your throat only moments later. You let out a choked cry, reaching up, but Rafe didn’t stop, continuing to fuck you and choke you.

“Look at me-look at me,” he quietly spat.

Too afraid not to, you did, your distressed gaze meeting his even one in the low lighting. He was so close, nose almost brushing against yours, and he looked between your eyes. His hand tightened around your neck, making your heart skip a beat, and his free hand covered your breast, squeezing it, and your free leg kicked at the sheets.

“I will kill you.”

Your nails pressed into the skin on his arm.

“Do you understand me? You try to leave me again…and I will kill you.”

Your heart was threatening to burst from your chest, and the ceiling behind Rafe’s face was starting to blur. The edges of your vision were growing faint, darkness creeping along the outer rim.

“I will dump your body on the side of the road, and I will get away with it.”

His words and cadence were slow, purposeful, and you knew that Rafe was entirely serious. Tears had long spilled over, and you couldn’t stop crying. Rafe shook you, your neck straining from the action, and the whole time he kept fucking you. His lower movements didn’t stop once, sliding into you over and over and stroking your walls all the while he threatened you.

He roughly let you go, and you coughed, touching your throat and shaking uncontrollably. When Rafe shifted, your leg falling to the bed, you pressed your hands to your face, sobbing into the palms of them. Rafe caged you in, thighs meeting yours with every thrust, and he didn’t seem to care at all at the sight of your distress. In fact, he kissed the back of your hands, humming with every stroke, and you could only think that if you had broken up with him on your birthday then he wouldn’t be threatening your life on his.

Ward Cameron may have felt a lot of things about Rafe, but he wasn’t going to let his only son go to jail.

You should have known that when you called the police, throat tight and phone call tearful as they asked what your emergency was. Telling the woman on the other side of the phone that you were hiding from Rafe Cameron inside of the bathroom wasn’t easy. Telling her that he had a gun was even harder, and something in you wondered if they would’ve been as urgent if they hadn’t heard his booming voice from the other side of the door as he threatened you.

You were sitting on the steps when a familiar car pulled into the driveway behind the cruiser, and you felt your face crumble. There was some relief as the older man went back and forth with Shoupe, but it dwindled the longer it went on. When Ward turned his head towards you, you dropped your gaze, eyes tracing the blood on your foot from where a few shards of glass had nicked it. You didn’t dare look up, not even when you heard his footsteps approaching despite the loud protests from the Sheriff.

When Ward said your name, it was cautious—gentle—and you shook your head.

“No.”

Your name rolled off of his tongue again, and you interrupted whatever he was going to say.

“No, no, no! No,” you cried.

You knew what he was going to say, where this was going, and you refused. You were tired, so tired, and each time you’d tried to do the right thing after your disastrous birthday, you got screwed over. Each time, Rafe was one step ahead or using that charming smile and devious words to convince you it would never happen again. Every slap, every shove, every hand around your throat was proof of all the lies that left his lips.

You were sure that the only truth Rafe had ever told was when he said he’d kill you.

It was silent between you two for some time, and you heard Ward sigh. You bit your lip, worrying it so much you started to taste blood, and you sniffed, wiping your face as you refused to look at the man. When he took another step towards you, you flinched, and only then did you look up to see the way Ward’s face fell.

You watched him press his lips together, only a thin line, now.

“I want you to tell me what happened.”

You scoffed.

“You know what happened. I’m sure Shoupe told you,” you forced out, and Ward exhaled through his nose.

He briefly glanced over his shoulder, looking at his son in the back of the cop car.

“I want to hear it from you. I want to know how a couple’s quarrel turned into-.”

“A couple’s quarrel?” you repeated in disbelief, tears falling as you exhaled. “He threw a vase at me. He put a gun in my mouth.”

You couldn’t tell how Ward took your words, but he did put his hands on his hips.

“Now, Y/N…you know it’s a crime to lie to the police.”

His response didn’t surprise you, and you nodded, your laugh humorless. Ward knew you were telling the truth, he knew just how unhinged Rafe could be, but he didn’t want him in jail. He couldn’t have the Cameron name tarnished by the arrest of his only son on domestic violence charges. Ward would rather handle this in private, away from prying eyes…and it disgusted you.

“I’m not lying, and you know I’m not lying,” you choked out.

“Why would Rafe do this? Right out of the blue?”

You were on your feet, now, sneering at the other man.

“It’s not out of the blue. Rafe has been treating me like shit for months!”

“…and this is the first we’re hearing of it…?”

The eldest Cameron tilted his head to the side, studying you, and you felt your breath leave you. You watched him touch his chest, gaze soft as he seemed to plead with you.

“Now, I’m not saying that’s not true…but you know that’s what they’re going to ask you. They’re going to ask you why you didn’t tell anyone…and they’re going to note how convenient this all is.”

You knew that, and you looked away, hands falling at your side.

“Rafe says you dropped a vase, and it started an argument.”

“He’s lying-.”

“…and anyone can say you’re the liar.”

You pressed your hands to your forehead, squeezing your eyes shut as more tears fell. Even through your lids, you could see the change in colors from the flash of the squad car, and when you opened your eyes again, the procession of red and blue lit the yard.

“That gun is legally his…and no one saw him do what you claim he did.”

“Why are you protecting him?” you loudly wondered, looking at the man in disbelief.

You’d eaten dinner with his family, even watched his daughter some nights, and he’d smiled in your face on numerous occasions, treating you like his own. Now, though…when push came to shove…Ward Cameron was showing you that you were not one of his own. Rafe was his own…and you were now a threat.

He took a step towards you, and you reached out to grip the rail to keep yourself from falling.

“I am just telling you what will happen if you continue with this,” he slowly started, and you crossed your arms over your chest, refusing to look at him. “They will take Rafe away, and I will pay his bail, and he’ll come home with me. There were no witnesses, and everything is pure speculation, a simple case of he said she said.”

You knew that he was right, and you felt yourself start to shake.

“…and in that scenario, I can’t help you.”

You knew what he was saying. You knew that he was talking about protecting you from more than just scrutiny and the law—he was also talking about protecting you from Rafe. Your lips parted, and you shakily exhaled. You felt like you were going to collapse, legs unsteady, and when you looked over…your eyes finally met a familiar blue pair.

You were positive that Rafe hadn’t taken his eyes off of you since they’d put handcuffs on him. If looks could kill, you were sure that you’d be six feet under, and you frantically blinked. No matter how much you wanted to, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from him, and your stomach churned at the memory of his hand on the back of your neck. His other held the gun, angrily forcing the weapon into your mouth as he sneered at you.

Something about returning the smile from some pogue at The Wreck—blond and rowdy and kind of familiar.

You recalled that his name was JJ.

The fight had started almost as soon as you got inside, and you shuddered at the flare of pain in your arm, recalling the way Rafe had shoved you into the wall. You’d only slid down just in time to miss the flying vase. Just thinking about it was enough to paralyze you with fear…and then you thought about what would happen should you choose to have a legal battle with Rafe and his family.

…and lose.

You let out a choked sob, looking away, and letting your face fall into your hands. You collapsed back down onto the steps, Ward’s voice reaching you.

“You tell Shoupe this was all one big misunderstanding…and I can do so much more for you. …but I can’t help you if you go through with this.”

You couldn’t stop crying, because you were trapped…and you knew it. Your parents had money too, just as much as the Cameron’s, but that only evened the playing field, it gave you no advantage, and you were back to square one of your word vs Rafe’s. You knew he would be far more forgiving if you just…did what Ward said. You knew that if you went through with this and lost, Rafe would wring your neck.

“I won’t let my son go to jail, Y/N. One way or another…”

You knew he was telling the truth, the conviction in his tone matching the certainty in your chest.

“…but at least this way, I can help you.”

Your knees bounced as you wrapped your arms around yourself, your tearful gaze focused on the perfectly manicured grass. You curled in on yourself, head falling, and your shoulders shook from your sobs.

“He scares me,” you struggled to say, and Ward placated you.

“I know…I know he does, but you have to let me help you.”

You pulled the ends of your sleeves over your hands, wiping your face. The night was still lit up with red and blue, and you closed your eyes, stomach sinking. It took everything in you to give Ward a shaky nod, and you kept your eyes on the ground as Ward waved the other man over.

You felt like you were betraying yourself, arm still aching and throat still raw from all of your screaming. A lot of your trembling was still from what had happened hours ago, and like that day in his truck…and the night of his party…you’d really thought you were going to die. You couldn’t go through that again, but Ward said that he would protect you because you knew Rafe better than anyone, and you knew that if you tried to press charges against Rafe and didn’t succeed…

He would kill you.

“Y/N wants to talk to you.”

You glanced up at the sound of your name, holding Ward’s gaze for a few seconds before finally meeting Shoupe’s.

“I want… I don’t-I don’t wanna press charges.”

Your words tumbled out, and for a moment, you were sure that Shoupe hadn’t heard you properly. You came to realize that he heard you fine, and his confusion wasn’t from a lack of understanding. You watched him rest his hands on his hips, looking between you and Ward.

“Now, Y/N…” he started, seemingly trying to organize his thoughts. “I heard that phone call. I heard what you said and I heard him yelling.”

“It was just a regular argument, Shoupe,” you whispered with a shrug. “It was stupid. A stupid vase…”

“That he threw…”

The pause was heavy, and you glanced away.

“That I dropped.”

You shook your head when he said your name, and you licked your lips, gaze pleading as they met his again.

“Please, just let him go. He didn’t do anything to me. It was a stupid fight that I exaggerated because…I was angry and things got out of hand, and this just went way beyond what I intended, so…”

The other man didn’t look like he believed you, at all, and you watched him glance at Ward—who hadn’t said a thing—before looking back to you. He sighed, fixing you with a look you couldn’t name.

“Are you sure…?”

Your only response was a nod, unsure if you could lie any more without breaking down. With an aggravated sigh—aggravation at you or at Ward, you didn’t know—Shoupe signaled to his deputy to let Rafe go. Ward was pulled to the side as the two men had a hushed and heated conversation, going back and forth, while your gaze rested on Rafe.

You felt like you were doing the worst thing possible as you watched them guide him out of the backseat. He looked far from happy as they uncuffed him, and just like all night, his gaze refused to leave you. The flashing red and blue bathed him, blue eyes glinting almost dangerously, and you pressed your lips together while you watched him rub his now free wrists.

The other men were distracted as Rafe slowly made his way over, and you didn’t dare move. You were too scared to, and as much as you wanted to pull your eyes away, you couldn’t find the strength to. It was just hours ago that you’d stared into that face as he yelled at you for something as harmless as a smile. Only hours ago, he was pushing you around and threatening you.

…and now those same hands were reaching for you and pulling you to your feet.

You cried for so many reasons as Rafe wrapped his arms around you, rocking you from side to side and shushing you in what was meant to be a soothing voice. They were tight, and you cried harder, apologies slipping past your lips before you realized what you were doing. Rafe was always quick to forgive if you were quick to apologize.

“I know,” you heard and felt him murmur into your hair.

“Please, please don’t…”

You both knew what you were begging for, and he gently shushed you.

“I’m sorry,” you choked out again, repeating it as many times as you thought you should, hoping and praying that it was enough. “You have to know that…”

Your words died in the air at the sound of his voice.

“I should be angry with you…but I understand,” he softly told you. “You were scared, and you should’ve been.”

You sniffed, staring at the red and blue grass.

“I went too far, and you were right to be scared.”

Rafe pressed a kiss to the top of your head, lingering there, telling you the words that brought you temporary relief.

“I forgive you.”

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron #dark!rafe cameron #rafe outer banks #rafe x reader #rafe cameron imagine #dark!rafe cameron x reader #obx imagine #obx fanfiction #rafe cameron fanfiction #outer banks fanfiction

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kiss-me-muchoo · 3 months

Text

𝐈𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐧 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐮𝐬 || 𝐄𝐧𝐳𝐨 𝐕𝐨𝐠𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐜 𝐱 𝐅𝐞𝐦!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲_ you are the girl who does the makeup effects for the society of the snow and you fall for el pendejo de Enzo (no te creas, papi tkm💋). But you start avoiding him because it’s not correct to fall in love with someone like him.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬_ AGE GAP (I’m turning 20 in March, let me live my fantasy), angst, fluff, Spanglish fic (I’m Mexican American, I know what I’m writing), reader is in denial and speaks Spanish, idk misunderstandings?, happy ending (irl Enzo nunca nos va a pelar)😭

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞_ I hate Spanglish but how can I keep both mi gente latino and my RAHHH🦅🇺🇸 people happy? With a Spanglish fic. I let go all my frustrations y lo ardida que estoy con cierto uruguayo.

♪ ♫ 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝟒 𝐄𝐧𝐳𝐨 𝐕𝐨𝐠𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐜 ✰𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱

@kissmemucho on X // @_hannia.k on instagram

「 𝐃𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐚_ para todas mis Enzo-motomamis del grupo que ya las quiero un montón y para Juani, que el hijodesuputamadre nunca me ha likeado ni topado. Me volví el joker y ahora soy hater (igual tkm jUaNi) 」

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One day, you started hating going to work. It was half work, half practice for college. Still, you started hating it. From moving some months to Spain to work on the makeup team for a movie, to spending hours with each actor to do their makeup.

That wasn’t the issue though. It was just that… uh… gosh.

You had developed a crush for that man called Enzo. It was so cringe to admit. And it tore apart you because he was significantly older than you. He would never turn to look down at you. That was the most honest thing about the whole thing. Only that you were even depriving yourself from being his friend.

But god, his pretty nose and deep eyes. His soft hair and perfect smile. The way he was so kind to everyone and to you. Soon you learned he was single too. It was so damn much that it made you so mad. He was perfect. Gorgeous in every sense.

And that’s exactly why you now hate going to work.

Sometimes the aura around the team seemed to be heavy due to the context of the movie. You had seen how every actor started to lose weight and prepare for the role. Which was a little tough. Anyways, everyone in the cast believed you were a burst of sunshine at least. Who seemed to make the hours spent seated on a chair with makeup and prosthetics being placed a little more fair.

“¡HEY!…GUAPA, VENÍ PARA ACÁ!” You heard as soon as you entered the workplace. Once you spotted the little circle of boys, you rolled your eyes and giggled.

“¿Y ahora qué se te ofrece Juani?”

“Que confirmes si vienes a cenar con todos” you looked at the others. Matías and the others were exchanging looks, with none other than Enzo. You don’t even look at the man, you can only focus on the boy with annoying blue eyes.

“Cómo jodes, chico. Ya veré si voy o no, tengo mucho que hacer” that was true, you had a lot to do. But mostly, it was because you believed you had nothing amazing to share with them.

“Podemos esperarte.” Enzo said, which immediately made your stomach flutter and your chest to get congested. He was wearing some t-shirt and those damn Adidas joggers he liked to repeat on a daily basis.

The fact that he suggested waiting for you to go out and have dinner should’ve made you blush, but it only made you nervous, increasing your eagerness to run away from the little circle of men.

“No pasa nada, váyanse ustedes. Que se la pasen bien…” and poor Enzo, he watched how you disappeared through the hallways with your big bag full of makeup and brushes.

“Ya va a caer…”

“Pero ni me gusta” everyone giggled. Enzo knew you were younger, of age, but younger. He also knew you were from a little too far away from Uruguay, that you were bilingual, that you were passionate about writing and other arts, that your eyes were lighter than expected in the sun, that your hands were very soft and that you were so extroverted with everyone except with him.

“Sos idiota, si no te gustara no te hubieras quedado como mogólico viéndola irse”

“Pero es una niña…” he tried to reason.

“La veinteañera universitaria que trabaja aquí en producción y anda sola por la vida” everyone laughed again. You were certainly an adult. Yeah you still acquired toys, listened to silly music and watched Barbie or Bratz movies. But you were legally an adult.

Which led Enzo wondering if he could ever have a chance with you. You had seen a lot of people, with how many times you had travelled to Los Angeles, the heart of Hollywood and everything, sometimes he doubted you could be interested in him.

But no… he definitely hadn’t caught an eye on you.

…

It was a Friday. A week from the day you rejected dinner with your workmates. Nothing serious happened after that. Juani made fun and exposed you with random tweets like a bully. He was laughing his ass off of you, so shameless and stupid. However, you on the other hand… were dying out of embarrassment. Especially after seeing how many people started following him. Then gifting him with an army of girls starving for shitpost around the internet.

“Si no estuvieras por grabar una escena tan desgarradora, te ahorcaba en este preciso momento, Juani '' you wanted to kill him. He had posted online two videos of you dancing like the proudest stripper, a picture of you rolling your eyes that looked extremely silly and dorky. Two audios of you cursing in Spanish and saying how much you hated capitalism. And he even made his own stickers of you to pass around the group chat of the cast.

“Eso te pasa por ¡RIDÍCULA!” The tone he used, extremely mocking you was enough to make you laugh along with him and caught the attention of everyone surrounding you two.

“Pues nunca te conseguiré el follow de los ex-One Direction” he stopped laughing, knowing you had made him remember his humbling twitter posts.

“¡Qué boluda… y pesada!”

“Okay, pinche ardido” one of the design team members from the movie appeared and handed you a little paper. It was the list of your schedule. Juani snatched it and opened it before you could even blink.

“UYYY… te toca todo el día con Enzo” he started teasing you like a child. You rolled your eyes in annoyance.

“Pero la boluda y pesada soy yo”

“Pues si” you finally read the paper and yes… 3 hours with Enzo.

“Well… it could be worse” you admitted sighing, accepting that you would spend three hours swallowing your pride and pierced feelings.

“Dejáte querer…” you frowned confused at the boy beside you.

“What?” You asked laughing, but he only shrugged.

“Nothing, dear” once again, you rolled your eyes.

“De verdad eres medio insoportable” he batted his ears, acting innocent. Deep down, both of you were actually friends.

“Te quiero” he responded, making you laugh once again.

“Si, yo también. Mi pendejito favorito”

“No, ese debe ser Enzo” this time, you blushed.

“Como chingas con meterlo en nuestras conversaciones. ¿Te gusta o qué?” He laughed, helping you out with your heavy bag full of brushes and capes and everything.

“No. ¿Y a vos? ¿Gustas de Enzo?” You remained quiet, pretending you hadn’t heard him.

You opened the door of the little room, surprised to see Enzo already there. So you grabbed the bag from Juani and started closing the door.

“Adios, naco perdedor” and just like that, you closed the door on his face.

You sighed, closing your eyes, before staring at the plain door for some seconds.

“Hola…” you heard his deep and sweet voice. It was just… that you had to be a big girl and leave aside your foolishness for that grown ass man. He was just a crush… a simple mortal at the end.

“Hi…” you replied awkwardly. You had seen the following section of his instagram, the most pretty girls, very different from you. Which made you feel… like it was auto-sabotage. But before you could start feeling depressed again. You decided to keep working, the only reason why you were in that room in the first place.

He would think you kinda disliked him. Every time you entered to work on his makeup, he would be smiling and trying to talk to you. And while you were polite and smiley too, you remained very quiet, always avoiding his cute eyes.

“¿Cómo estás?” He would ask, looking at you through the mirror in the room.

“Pues muy bien, gracias.” You would reply, turning to open the boxes with prosthetics and other special effects makeup. And he sighed, already feeling a little disappointed.

“¿Me permites tus manos?” You ask him. He shows you the palm of his hands with another smile, which you reply quickly. Your heart started pounding as soon as he walked into the room.

“Perdón si estoy fría.” You admit with a blush, knowing the tips of your fingers were freezing.

“No pasa nada, linda” he had to be joking. He couldn’t call you “linda” just like that? However, you do your best to ignore it.

So you start making little lines of the paint samples you had taken. Until you noticed which one was identical to his skin.

“Okay, I got it.” You speak to yourself, out loud though. Sometimes Enzo questioned if you weren’t fluid in Spanish, but he had heard you talk and talk with other people in Spanish. Your accent was so clean, so different to the rest of the crew.

“¿Te molesta si pongo música?” You ask him, grabbing your phone.

“No, para nada.”

“Nomás no me vayas a juzgar” you giggle without looking at him, scrolling through your playlist.

It was the first time you attempted to joke with him. And he wouldn’t risk the opportunity.

“Jamás podría…” you only thank him before starting to play some music.

He was used to your touch now. You had small and soft hands compared to him. Every time you had to pick the right tone that matched his skin, brush his hair and work inches away from his face. It was insufferable for you. And to him… it only built more intrigue.

He listens to how you barely mumble some songs.

“¿Quién es ella?” He asks at the song.

“Nelly Furtado” you reply, concentrating on his hands, starting to draw the fake wounds. Promiscuous was a great song to feel empowered while trying to beat the feelings for the man who was extremely close to you.

Some minutes passed and then Madonna came with Dress You Up and Enzo barely got it right. You sing very low and he tries to hear you with precision.

“¿Y esta?” You ask him when gorgeous started.

and God, that damn song was like a curse and blessing at that very moment.

You're so cool, it makes me hate you so much

(I hate you so much)

You've ruined my life, by not being mine

You're so gorgeous

I can’t say anything to your face

'Cause look at your face

And I'm so furious

At you for making me feel this way

That was you. That was how much you hated your feelings for him. Because he would never be yours.

And somehow, Enzo got the message. He wasn’t sure but he felt how you changed the way of singing and avoided his eyes.

“¿Y esa quién es?” He asked once again.

“Esa es Taylor Swift”

“No la conozco” you giggle, ignoring the song a little bit.

“¡Enzo, por Dios!. ¿En qué mundo vives?” You found it very hard to believe he didn’t know half of your musical taste.

“Pues en Uruguay…” for the first time, he makes you laugh and talks to you so fucking much that you have to stop spreading the fake dirt on his face.

You're gorgeous

You make me so happy, it turns back to sad

There's nothing I hate more than what I can't have

You are so gorgeous, it makes me so mad

You’re so gorgeous

“¿Por qué nunca sales con nosotros?” He asks suddenly, and it takes you aback. That you end up looking straight at his face.

“Tú tampoco sales, prefieres quedarte en el cerro” he laughs, feeling a little too comfortable under your touch on his cheeks and chin.

“He salido dos veces con ellos. ¿Y vos? Cero…”

“Estoy ocupada.” You simply reply.

“No es cierto. Por ahí me dijeron que te la pasas viendo películas y escribiendo fanfiction” you blush, but you keep working.

Actually, last Saturday was the first weekend you cried because of him. You couldn’t even stay at a local bar. You left your friends there to go home. New addition to your routine.

“Maybe… ¿pero a ti qué si no voy?” You ask giggling, hoping he would drop the issue. You pause the music and slip your phone inside your bag before returning to him. Scared of his possible answer.

“Pues… porque te quiero ver” your hands start shaking.

“¿A mí?”

“Si. A ti, linda” he senses how taken aback you are. And he realized, that he had adapted some of your slang words from all the time he spent with you.

“¿Por qué yo, Enzo?” He smiles, and you want to kill him. He made the gesture like you had been so oblivious for ages.

“Porque…” slowly, he grabbed your wrist, preventing you from keeping working on his face. He touches you with such gentleness that it makes you finally start shaking.

The way he looks at you. It must’ve been a dream, two pairs of eyes deeply connected. He was silently revealing he liked you. Once you get it, you shake your head, his eyes giving you some confirmation.

“No..” You brush away from him.

“Si… tal vez suene raro o no me creas… pero, vos me gustas. Por eso quiero verte y busco tus bonitos ojos cada vez que trabajas conmigo…” you sigh, dropping the brush and paint a little too violent.

“¿Y por qué yo entre tantas diosas que están a tus pies?” You are fighting against the tears already forming on your eyes. He remains quiet, and to you… that’s an answer.

He doesn’t like the way you are being too negative. But you don’t like having that conversation at all. You are shocked, and you don’t feel in love at that moment. You feel panic and stress.

“Fui al bar el sábado pasado y te vi con la chica rubia. Si te gusta alguien no dejas a la chica rubia hacer ni un movimiento. No te encuentras en redes a las chicas a las que les das reacciones” maybe you had no right to be so angered. But it had been two months, and everything had worsened. At that point, your eyes were already red and crystallized.

“Nada de eso significó algo”

“Si fue algo. Fue tu cuarteada en lo que buscabas la manera de acercarte a mí. Por si no te resultaba la cosa conmigo…” again, he remains quiet.

“This is bullshit. Mira Enzo, he estado aquí desde hace dos meses y nunca te acercaste. No te salió el amor por mí hoy” you spit with anger, grabbing your paint and makeup, hurrying to get out of there.

“Me has gustado desde la primera semana cuando te conocí. Pero tú no me quieres, y por eso te evado. Aparte del dilema de nuestra age gap, que podría ser un problema” you explain putting your coat on and grabbing the bag.

“Y eres una persona hermosa, Enzo. Sé que eres el amigo y novio perfecto. Pero mi intuición me dice que me vas a lastimar” he steps between you and the door. The proximity worsens everything, he wants to end it all for once with a kiss to make you feel the way he does.

It was already difficult for him. He had felt slightly depressed while filming, he felt weird, in company but alone at the same time. And he believed you were the right burst of sunshine to lighten his weird mood swings.

But you believed he was lying. He honestly felt hurt that you were mistaking him for some womaniser and asshole.

“No te vayas, por favor” he pleaded, shocked to see your teary eyes. So he started questioning what you said about being hurt.

“Ya acabamos, no te preocupes.” You manage to slip beside him, opening the door and leaving him alone.

The dramatic moment culminated in Enzo feeling more depressed and giving a sadder performance for the movie. For you, it gave you a reason to cry in the shower and stare at the balcony of your place for hours, contemplating the sky and feeling so damn weird.

…

You have flashbacks of seeing him laughing and letting the blonde girl at the bar whisper in his ear. His honest smile and how he admitted he liked you a day ago.

You wished for weeks, now months that he confessed his feelings for you. But the moment he does, it feels wrong. Like it wasn’t meant to happen. Because he’s older, he’s got more experience, he had a very extended long-term girlfriend once, he is too much unlike you.

Maybe it wasn’t meant to happen and this is how it was supposed to end.

With you bursting out in tears and anger. Him believing you were crazy, but you had a point.

He never made a move. Just trying to talk, but he never invited you to do anything with him, or just to stay with him during the free days. It seemed unreal that suddenly he liked you.

And maybe you’re just scared of falling in love, because he could unintentionally but potentially break your heart.

Nonetheless, on the second day you want to distract yourself, it’s Saturday again and you go out alone to jog, then to buy some new clothes and you are about to prepare your dinner when the pain in the ass of Juani asks you to go out for some tapas.

You agree because you really need to distract yourself from thinking about the whole cringy issue with Enzo.

Probably everyone in the production already knew. But you would shut your mouth just to let the rumours die.

You start your walk towards the restaurant when he sends you the location. It’s a few blocks away, and you frown when you see what type of restaurant it is.

“amiguito, pero creí que querías tapas. Este es un restaurante vegano” you send him a voice message. And he replies immediately.

“Ay pues para ser fitness un día nada más, chica. ¿Ya vas para allá?” You roll your eyes, not that you didn’t like vegan food but you wanted tapas.

“Si, morro meco. Ya estoy a un par de cuadras” you send back, putting on your EarPods and route.

You realise how much you like wearing sneakers, long dresses and coats with matching purses. Perfect for the weather and your silly thoughts of walking on the streets along some cool music playing in the background.

Until you arrive at the restaurant and you don’t spot Juani. But maybe he was on his way. So you order first, grilled tofu with vegetables and tangy sauce.

It’s a cute place, and by the time you find a table, it’s already dark. The restaurant has candles everywhere and quality music playing.

When you start closing your purse, you look up and you freeze. Because you see Enzo entering the place, with a tiny bouquet of flowers on his right hand and a water bottle on the other.

He was wearing jeans, a random buttoned shirt and dark sunglasses.

Oh, fuck him. Of course he knew he looked gorgeous.

Quickly you change from your seat, giving your back to him, hopefully becoming invisible.

Your fingers rush to find the contact of Juani and send him a violent voice message.

“Oye, ¿por qué carajo no has llegado? ¿Y por qué Enzo Vogrincic está viendo el menú ahora mismo?” You send and he starts writing.

“Es que él es vegano…” he writes in text, which boils your blood.

“¿Y eso a mí qué chingados me importa, Juani? Ven ya y sácame a escondidas o te juro que me voy a colgar del primer poste de luz que vea” you silently scream, lowering your voice.

“No puedo” that’s it, you’re going to die in a vegan restaurant while Enzo Vogrincic orders food.

You are about to stand up when he literally appears on your table.

Qué hijo de puta, y todavía te sonríe y todo.

“¿Y el Juani ya viene o no?” You ask, trying to sound confident.

“De hecho no va a venir” right, pinche Juani idiota, qué gran amigo y todo.

“That’s it. I’m leaving!” You mumble sighing, standing up from the table, when Enzo grabs your forearm and makes you sit again.

“No, vos te quedas. Mira, te traje estas” he hands you the flowers, yellow tulips.

“Yo nunca le he dicho a Juani… ni a Matías cuáles son mis flores favoritas” you frown confused, grabbing them.

They’re beautiful.

“Tuve que buscar por mi cuenta” he admits, and you frown deeper. Until you open your eyes in shock.

“¿Me zorreraste mi Instagram?” Enzo starts laughing, and you blush. He takes a seat and drops the receipt of his order on the table. You read it, chickpea pasta with arrabiata sauce and zucchini.

You read his order just to avoid looking at his eyes.

“Dejáme explicar todo…” slowly, you look at him. You are still on time to ask for the food to be to go, you can leave and just let this strange issue wash away.

But a waitress appears with your tofu and the pasta. You awkwardly smile and say thank you as well as Enzo.

“Pues ya que…” he smiles, thinking your eyeliner was so perfect. Your dress was cute and the coat made you look elegant and fine.

“Vos sabes quién te engañó. Le pedí que te hiciera venir a un lugar para encontrarme” your roll your eyes. Unbelievable how childish was the whole situation.

“Yo quería tapas”

“Dale, ahorita te llevo por tapas” Enzo says with a giggle. You simply mock him with a gesture and proceed to eat.

“Lamento no haberte dado señales desde el inicio. Creí que con hacerle plática cuando me maquillabas era suficiente.” He confesses.

“Con todos sos un amor. Y conmigo… siempre seria y pues… llegué a pesar que no te agradaba” you shrug, eyebrows rising and avoiding his eyes once again.

“Todo lo contrario…” you admit.

“Ya veo. Entonces hace unas semanas, los chicos empezaron a sacar el tema. Que debía invitarte a salir o hacerte venir con nosotros a comer para ahí verte”

“Y ayer me atreví. Pero temo que tu reacción no fue la que buscaba” he says with many pauses, not wanting to disturb you.

“Tú declaración tampoco fue lo que esperaba.” He nods, calming you.

“Ya lo sé, hubiera sido mejor esperar a estar en un lugar… como este”

“Quizá” you reason with him.

“Incluso desde antes de admitir que vos me gustas, no me he visto con nadie. Así que solo sos tú… nadie más” you nod, looking back at the tulips.

“Están preciosas, gracias” you say lifting the boquete. Enzo smiles. So you know it’s time, you sigh.

“Yo también lo siento por juzgarte sin saber. No tenía derecho de ponerme celosa, ni nada. Es solo que me da miedo dejar que esto, fluya…” you say, not wanting to repeat once again that your intuition said he would break your heart.

“No te voy a lastimar, nunca. Dejáme quererte, linda. Por favor….” he pleads, accepting he was nervous and desperate. He really longed for someone in the upside down moments of his days.

“Yo solo quiero sentir lealtad, confianza, pasión y seguridad. ¿Me puedes dar eso?”

“Te voy a dar todo, pero más lo que vos quieras. Y si lealtad, confianza, pasión y seguridad es lo que querés…. Así será, linda” you smile, finding his hand on top of the table, intertwining your fingers with him.

“Entonces todo bien, lindo” he smiles more, ending in a sweet laugh.

He helps you pick the rest of the food, both of you also order ice cream cones. Him with chocolate and you with pistachios. And soon both of you are walking together in the streets. Spring is near and it’s your favourite season. You feel happy feeling his warm touch outside of the job. And now being inches away from him feels like a new home.

“¿Si vamos a ir por las tapas?” He starts laughing again, and when he leans, you can feel what’s coming.

“Te voy a besar…” he warns before grabbing your cheeks and smashing his lips with yours.

“Te quiero” he spills, and you only smile on his lips, deepening the kiss. Feeling the silly butterflies in your stomach and intense tears of happiness. You almost drop your cone due to that.

“Yo también te quiero” you reply, swiftly bumping your forehead with him. He then takes your hand and suddenly you don’t feel wrong about it.

Now it feels perfect. Like destiny changed and finally it was meant to be.

#enzo vogrincic #la sociedad de la nieve #the society of the snow #perdón chingado #si no etiqueto la movie como hago que esto lo vean duh #enzo vogrincic x reader

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okaylikesmomo · 9 months

Text

KAMPFyre: Part 1 - Vocals

Was this girl serious? Could someone actually be this naive?

“So does it work?”

“Uh, I’ve heard it’s very effective,” you answered cautiously, still not entirely sure if she believed the theory. “It’s totally up to you if you want to do it, though.”

“I do!” she replied without hesitation. “Please, if it’s good for my voice then please do it.”

“Alright, follow me,” you instructed while walking down the hallways of the stadium into a small office. “Take a seat.”

She sat down with her hands in her lap, looking up at you expectantly. She was rather cute with her hair all tied up and her baggy, casual clothes. Since you already made it this far, you decided to try pushing it just a little bit more.

“It could get a bit messy,” you explained while leaning on the desk in front of her. “If you want to keep your clothes clean, I don’t mind if you strip.”

“Oh,” she hesitated. “Do people usually do that?”

“It’s pretty normal, but it’s totally up to you.”

“Will anyone else be coming in here?” she asked, looking around the room nervously. “And there aren’t any cameras right? I could get in a lot of trouble.”

“Whatever makes you more comfortable, remember I’m just here to help you out,” you added casually, hoping she wouldn’t get suspicious. “To answer your question though, no one else will be joining us, and there are no cameras.”

She thought about it for a second before shrugging and taking her sweater off. Just as she said, she was wearing nothing but a peach colored bra underneath her top. Then she stood up to take off her sweatpants, revealing matching underwear. After folding her clothes neatly on the side of the desk, she took a seat in front of you again.

“Have you ever seen one before?” you asked, standing up straight in front of her and gesturing to your crotch.

“Only in a science book, never in person,” she answered, staring between your legs. “I’m sorry, I don’t really know what to do.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll guide you,” you reassured her. “If at any point you want to stop, for any reason whatsoever, just let me know.”

She nodded obediently, still fixated on your crotch.

“I’m going to take my pants off, alright?” you said cautiously, not wanting to scare her. Slowly, you lowered your pants to your ankles, followed by your underwear. With your cock out in front of her, you stepped out of your clothes and kicked them to the side. “Ready?”

“What do I do now?” she asked, looking up at you.

“Put it in your mouth.”

—

“Some of these girls are fucking gorgeous.”

“Seriously, did you guys see that red haired girl,” you asked, taking a sip of your cocktail. “Some group called Momoland or something?”

“Oh yeah! She’s the only one I even remember from that set,” the first man commented. “I bet she gives great head, too.”

“What gave you that idea,” the second man laughed. “Aren’t these girls banned from seeing guys?”

“Really?” the first man gasped. “What a waste, I heard it makes you a better singer though.”

“What are you talking about,” you laughed, putting down your empty glass. “I gotta get going, but that’s the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever heard.”

“No really! I swear it helps with singing,” the first man argued. “One load down the throat and these girls would sound so much better.”

The second man smacked him lightly on the head while the three of you laughed together.

“Alright it was nice meeting you guys,” you chuckled. “Maybe I’ll catch you guys again after the show, we’ll go grab some more drinks.”

“Cheers buddy.”

Still smiling to yourself, you left the two guys behind and took a couple of steps into the hallway when you heard a voice behind you.

“Excuse me.”

You turned around to see a cute girl standing in the hallway, staring at you.

“I don’t think you’re supposed to be back here, this area is for staff only.”

“I’m actually one of the performers,” she said shyly.

“Oh, sorry,” you apologized, noticing her artist badge around her neck. “What can I help you with?”

“I don’t mean to intrude, but I overheard your conversation as I was heading back to our room.”

“Uh, sorry, I hope you aren’t offended,” you replied quickly, worried that she might report you.

“No, not at all, I was just wondering if it was true,” she said while walking up to you.

“Which part exactly?”

“The thing about the voice, your friend said something about one load making you sing better?”

“One load?” you coughed, unable to believe what she just said.

“I don’t really know what it means,” she said casually. “What is a load?”

“Is this some sort of prank?” you asked while looking around. “Am I being tested?”

“No, this isn’t a prank,” she said earnestly while holding up her pass. “Here, look, my name is Winter. I’m part of a group called Aespa, we’re performing tonight.”

If this was fake, it was pretty elaborate, you thought to yourself while observing the badge.

“I’m super nervous for today, if there is some sort of trick that will help my voice, I’d love to try it,” she continued. “I’ve always been into these kinds of superstitious things, it’s a bit embarrassing.”

“Well, if you’re being serious,” you replied, handing her pass back. “He was basically saying if a guy… umm… deposits inside your throat, it will make you sing better.”

“Deposits?” she repeated, tilting her head.

“Like, you know, a load. His sperm.”

“Oh,” she gasped. “That’s called a load?”

—

“I’m sorry, I feel like I’m not doing a very good job,” Winter apologized while slipping your cock out of her mouth. “Does it usually take this long?”

“Oh no! You’re doing just fine,” you replied, giving her shoulder an encouraging squeeze. “It’s only your first time, don’t feel bad about it.”

“I don’t mind continuing, but if there’s a better way to do this we could try that.”

“There is one thing we could try,” you suggested as an audacious idea invaded your mind. “Some girls will have sex with the guy for a bit, just to get him ready, and then quickly put it back in their mouth.”

“Would you be willing to do that for me?” she asked innocently, looking up at you.

“Of course, I’d love to help you out,” you answered, trying to hide your excitement. Was she really about to let you fuck her? “Only if you want to do it.”

“Oh I do I do!” she replied happily. “I don’t really know how, though, I’ve only read about it.”

“Here, come sit,” you took her hand, guiding her to a little couch on the side and laying her on her back. “Is it fine if I take off your underwear?”

Without responding, she reached down herself and slipped her panties off, exposing her shaven pussy - so cute and pristine.

“Is it going to hurt?” she asked nervously, her legs spread wide while she slowly rubbed herself. “I’ve touched myself before, but I’ve never put anything inside.”

“I’ll be as gentle as possible,” you said while crouching down between her legs, admiring her lips. “I’m going to get you a bit wet first, to make it easier, alright?”

She nodded at you before moving her hands up and placing them on her stomach.

“Just try to enjoy this, it should feel good,” you instructed as you moved your face between her legs.

That first lick of her inner thigh made her whole body jolt. This girl was sensitive. Slowly, you rubbed your tongue around her folds, licking up and little bits of her juices that had already started spreading. She tasted so clean, her pussy was made to be eaten. The biggest travesty was knowing that it wasn’t eaten daily.

As your tongue moved closer and closer to her entrance, her breathing accelerated. She was already getting wet - you couldn’t wait to taste her fully. Without further ado, your tongue made its way towards her pussy. That first lick up her slit immediately overwhelmed your taste buds, her delicious nectar filling your mouth. When your tongue made it to her clit, her wide-spread legs clamped down on your head.

“Sorry!” she gasped, quickly spreading her legs again.

“It’s fine,” you quickly reassured her before immediately pressing your mouth against her again.

Again, her legs began to close, but this time she controlled herself before squishing you - not that you would have minded. You began to explore, licking and tasting every bit of her pussy that your mouth could reach. The goal was just to get her wet, but you were addicted.

“That feels really good,” Winter moaned, finally allowing herself to be vocal.

Her lower body began to squirm. You gave her pussy a couple final licks before sitting up, admiring the mess of fluids between her legs - She was ready.

“This should also feel really good,” you said, wiping your lips with the back of your hand as you slid a cushion underneath her butt. “I’m going in now, alright?”

“Okay,” she whispered, looking up at you in anticipation as you lined your stiff cock up with her entrance.

The excitement was driving you insane, a tiny bit of precum had already formed on your tip. You couldn’t believe this was actually going to happen. You slowly pressed your cock against her folds, having her pussy spread apart for you.

“Holy fuck that’s tight,” you moaned, pausing for a moment. “Let me know if it’s too much.”

“I’m- fine-” she stuttered, her eyes shut tight.

Another inch. Winter inhaled sharply as your third little push went forward. Your cock was halfway inside her now, begging to go deeper. You pushed again, going until your cock was almost entirely inside her, when she let out a little squeak through her closed mouth.

She was frozen, completely still, until you carefully pulled your hips back. She released that breath slowly, her entire body relaxing before your eyes. You pressed forward again, not going as deep, holding yourself inside her to get her adjusted.

So unbelievably tight, but luckily she was also soaked. Using her breaths as guidance, you began to slowly thrust into her. Your cock only ever made it halfway, but you wanted to ease her into it. She did feel amazing, her inner walls were squeezing your cock in all the right ways, gently contracting each time you thrusted.

“Is it working?” she asked through gritted teeth, still keeping her eyes shut tight.

“Yeah, you’re doing great,” you moaned back, grabbing her waist for support.

After going at it for a bit, you decided to push deeper. Her body was quickly adjusting, and soon you were going three quarters of the way into her pussy with each thrust, making her whole body jiggle each time.

She began to heat up: a lot. The contractions of her pussy began to come quicker and quicker, squeezing your shaft, fighting your movements. She was getting tighter the more you fucked her, and at this point she was probably tighter than when you started - but she was also much wetter.

As you continued to plow her tightness, you slid one hand over towards her clit and began rubbing. This finally got her to moan freely. That shy wall she was hiding behind shattered, and she began to cry out in pleasure. Your cock began to twitch at the sound of her voice, nearing your own orgasm.

It had probably only been a couple of minutes at most since you started fucking her pussy, but you knew you wouldn’t last much longer. She was so tight. Her tiny body began to shake, trembling as you relentlessly fucked her.

A slur of words slipped out of her mouth, she was gasping, trying to say something while being denied by the pleasure of her body. Then, her pussy clamped down on your cock, squeezing it harder than ever before.

“Ahhhhhhhh,” she moaned, drawn out and without care for controlling the volume. Her orgasm took over, her whole body began to move up and down.

At this point, you completely forgot what your goal was, and the sight of Winter’s arched back made you burst. She was still cumming as you began to paint her insides white. You grunted, gasped, moaned, nothing was in your control anymore as her pussy convulsed on your shaft.

It went on for a bit, before you finally regained your senses. At some point during your orgasm, you had fallen forward onto her body. While laying on top of her, you felt your cock pulse every few seconds, unloading the final bits of your climax inside her pussy.

“I came… inside…” you gasped, lifting yourself up and looking down at her.

“Did I do something wrong?” she asked tenderly, still in her blissful state. “Am I supposed to swallow it still?”

“No, you didn’t-” you began before pausing as the realization of what she just said hit you. “That might be a bit difficult.”

“Oh, are you able to try again?”

“You… want to go again?”

“Sure, why not,” she answered, sitting up slightly. “It felt really good, and it looks like this way worked a lot better.”

“Uh, sure, I don’t see why not,” you responded while getting off her. As soon as you pulled out, a glob of white goo spilled out of her.

“Is that what I’m supposed to swallow?” she asked, observing the bit of your cum that was on your tip. “Do you mind if I taste it?”

This girl had to be fucking with you, there was no way she was real. Either way, you walked around the couch and held your cock right in front of her mouth.

“If you want, yeah.”

She leaned forward and stuck her tongue out, collecting your cum in her mouth. She took one big gulp before shuddering slightly.

“It’s… weird.”

“We don’t have to keep doing this,” you said, starting to feel slightly guilty.

“No, please, your friend said it’ll help with my vocals, right?” she asked, her eyes hopeful.

“He did.”

“Then please, I’m sorry for messing the last one up, please try again,” she begged.

“Alright, just give me like thirty seconds,” you said, grabbing your cock and stroking it back to hardness.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” Winter asked while sitting up straight on the couch, watching you stroke yourself.

“Uh yeah, here,” you let go of your cock and stuck it forward for her to stroke.

While you expected her to grab your cock, she shocked you when she put it in her mouth and started blowing you again.

“Oh fuck, that works,” you moaned as her soft lips enveloped your cock.

Surely this had to be a dream. If it was real, then you figured you’d have to look more into this Aespa group. It didn’t take long for you to get ready for round two.

“You’re already getting better at that,” you encouraged her while pulling your cock out of her mouth. “Here, this time come over here.”

Following your instructions, she stood up from the couch and walked over to the desk. You pressed down on her back, bending her over it. With her ass sticking up, it took a lot of strength to stop yourself from shoving your face into it.

“This time, before I cum, I need you to quickly turn around and get on your knees,” you instructed her.

“How will I know when that is?” she asked while looking back over her shoulder.

“I’ll pull out,” you answered. “I’ll also give you a little pat on the butt, alright?”

She nodded once before facing forward again, bracing herself. You stepped up behind her, rubbing your tip along her slit - squishy wet noises filling the room. Her body was much better prepared this time, and you slipped in with ease. It wasn’t until you went about halfway inside her that her pussy convulsed, that tightness returning immediately.

This time, you pushed all the way in until your hips were pressed right against her ass. An emphatic moan escaped her lips as you pushed as deep as you could. While you pulled back, her pussy lips were gripping your cock, fighting to keep you inside her. At the same time, when you pushed back in, her tightness was fighting to keep you out.

Her body felt unreal, this girl must have been created in a lab or something. You leaned forward, placing your hands on her shoulders, before finally getting into a rhythm. This time, you were fucking her much harder. Her cute little ass rippled each time your hips slammed into her, and the once shy girl was now squealing each time your cock went in.

As much as you wanted to savor the moment, your body didn’t care. Your hips were relentless, plowing her tight pussy while her cute little butt went back and forth. One of your hands moved off her shoulder and pressed hard into her lower back, making her arch herself. She looked so fucking sexy from this angle.

Winter deserved some praise. With how hard you were fucking her, and her lack of experience, she took it quite well. You thought about slowing down, giving her a second to catch her breath, but her constant moans of pleasure kept you going.

Slap slap slap, your hips rammed her ass. Each thrust went as deep as possible, but you needed to go deeper. With your cock balls deep inside her, you grabbed her leg and lifted it onto the desk. She almost fell over, balancing on one foot, but you quickly grabbed her hips to steady her.

With your fingers pressing into her hips, you resumed the thrusting - this new position scratching that itch inside you to go deeper. Her moans, her tightness, her cute butt, everything happening in your world right now was pushing you to the edge. You never could have predicted your second orgasm to come so quickly, but here it was.

Not wanting to mess it up again, you slammed into her one final time with all of your power, making her entire body shake as she screamed out. Then you quickly pulled out, all the way, letting go of her body entirely. You lifted your hand up high, and then you brought it down hard onto her ass, the sound of the slap echoing in the small room.

Without missing a beat, the cute girl quickly turned around and got into her knees. She looked right into your eyes, unable to contain her excitement as you stroked your cock in front of her face, dripping her own juices onto her chin. As soon as she opened her mouth, you shoved your cock down her throat.

After her initial reflex, she quickly calmed down and let you use her mouth freely. She sat there while your cock went in and out, nearing that divine orgasm. You grabbed her head with both hands and started to properly fuck her mouth, the same way you fucked her from behind just a second ago.

Finally, your cock unloaded, giving her exactly what she was begging for earlier. She looked so pretty with her mouth spread open around your shaft. You pressed forward, as deep as her throat would allow, holding her face to your crotch as you pumped her full of cum.

“Oh fuck,” you moaned quietly as she took your entire load. You tilted your head back and closed your eyes, enjoying the warmth of her mouth as her tongue rubbed against your tip. “Almost done.”

As soon as you let go of her head, she pulled back and started coughing. You crouched down next to her, rubbing her back gently.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she coughed, her saliva dripping out of her mouth and onto her thighs. “I think I swallowed most of it.”

“You did a great job,” you said awkwardly, the realization of what you just did hitting you. “Here, use this,” you added while handing her some tissues from the desk.

She wiped her mouth a few times before looking up at you and smiling.

“Thank you, I think I can feel it working already,” she said softly.

There was no way this was real. You refused to believe it.

“Yeah, I’m glad I could help.”

---

A/N:

I have no idea how this happened. Randomly got kinda horny for Winter, quickly wrote up something I thought about back when they did some music festival. I don't actually think Winter is dumb, this is just silly fiction, don't be offended!

Wrote this up in one night, forgive me for any sort of mistakes. Barely proofread this one to be honest. Hopefully someone out there enjoys it, I'll probably at some point write a Karina bit following this one.

Regarding other works, Dating Seraphs Chapter 5 is making a lot of progress, this fic was just a short distraction, so expect that soon!

#kpop smut #aespa winter smut #winter smut #smut #kpop fanfic #aespa smut #male reader

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ilsanslut · 5 months

Note

you said male reader and I appear

boo

anyway, I’d love for your fave blue lock boys getting spanked by male reader

and I disappear now

꒷♡꒷ HIT ME, BABY!

♰ featuring: kaiser michael. shidou ryusei. [blue lock + separate]

♰ note: when i saw this pop up in my ask box i JUMPED into my desk chair with the most devious laugh ever LIKEE the joker could never. anyway, here are my baby boys getting their asses handed to them, as well as my first-ever male!reader work. (honestly i might make this into a lil series because i literally love too many blue lock characters-) enjoy!

sypnosis: naughty boys deserve to get spankings. content/trigger warning(s): 18+. smut. masc/male-bodied!reader. dominant/top!reader. bratty bottoms. minor dub-con? (kaiser). forced masturabation (kaiser). spanking. one cock-stepping moment (shidou). masochism (shidou). ryusei has daddy issues. one-time usage of the word ‘daddy’ (shidou). hair-pulling. cursing. degradation. punishments w/ no actual penetration. ꒷꒦

MICHAEL KAISER.

There were numerous things that irritated you about your teammate Kaiser: his superiority complex, the way he talked down to others who he saw as inferior, his inhuman skill that rivaled some of our generation's greatest, and his ridiculously good looks. But you had no idea how you of all people had become his number one target on his shitlist. It began cordially enough—or as cordial as you could be when dealing with Kaiser—but things quickly devolved into vile territory. He would annoy you to no end, from bumping into you in the hallway to stealing your towels as you were getting out of the shower, to making patronizing comments about you during practice, and even enabling his lapdog Ness to steal the ball from you during what should have been obvious goals at your games.

He was always meticulous about his appearance, so you knew he was taking extra time in the shower to get rid of the hard work he had done today to make your life as miserable as possible. You headed for the showers, which were nearly empty, but for one in the middle, front and center, fit for an emperor, with the curtain closed and the water running. You heard the faintest tune hummed in German from behind the curtain, and, without warning, you fisted the curtain in your hand and snatched it open. Panic overcame Kaiser's handsome face as he saw you, his eyes widening in response to being leered at in his most vulnerable state. There was a fleeting look of fear in his eyes, but it was quickly replaced by a smug glare and a pinch of his eyebrows.

“R-Really, Y/N?” Even with the sneer in his tone, you could tell it was merely a ploy to cover up the tremble in his voice. “I didn’t take you for the perverted type who—”

You did not even wait for him to finish before stepping into the shower yourself, unconcerned about getting soaked while still fully clothed, and snatching the curtain closed behind you. Seeing the look of a silent fury twisting your features, Kaiser’s expression dropped. However, before he could attempt to make a break to safety, you were shoving him against the ceramic walls cheek-first while your body and sheer mass pinned him there from behind. He grunted, struggling against your overwhelming strength as your forearm pinned itself across his shoulder blades, firmly pinning him there.

“W-What are you doing?! Get off of m—”

You silenced him with a sharp swat to his, surprisingly, bubbly ass, the sound of the hit echoing off the walls around you two, and effectively quarreling whatever rebuttal he was about to spew your way.

“I’ve had enough of your shit, Kaiser.” You snarled, emphasizing your words with two well-placed smacks on both of his ass cheeks, making him yelp with each one. You held him taut, fisting the back of his dyed hair and pulling his head back until his ear was right next to your lips. Even then, you could see the faintest trace of horror and what looked like yearning in his wide, blue eyes. For what? You didn’t know, nor did you care, right now.

“You berate me on the field—”

SMACK.

“Thrownin’ off my obvious fuckin’ goals—”

SMACK.

“And stick your dumb little lapmutt onto me, just because you know you can’t devour me on your own—!”

SMACK. SMACK

Kaiser’s teeth were gritted as he tried to hold back his sharp grunts and ill-timed moans, but no sound could be hidden from your ears within the confines of the echoing chamber. You gave him the briefest moments of reprieve, groping his abused cheeks in your large palm as your hand shook with poorly contained malice. Your hand that was in his hair jerked his head back more, pulling him slightly off of the wall so that you could peer over his shoulder, only to confirm your suspicions that yes, Kaiser was hard, and yes he was getting off to this.

“Dirty bitch,” You snarled in his ear amidst your amused chuckle. “Are you really getting off to this? Getting your pretty lil’ cock hard over being spanked like a disobedient slut you are in the showers, huh?”

“O-Oh, fuck you, Y/N. I am not—AH~!”

Kaiser let out a high-pitched, sultry squeal as you gave him another well-earned smack on his ass, feeling the pleasure shoot through his veins and making his cock jump. His face was flushing red, just like his posterior, and it was not from the heat from the shower.

“Yeah?” You breathed haughtily in his ear. “Go on then, jerk your cock for me, baby. I know a desperate thing like you is just aching to cum all over these walls, aren’t you?”

His fists balled at his sides as his teeth gritted against one another, not wanting to give you the satisfaction of letting you have your way. You merely clicked your tongue at his behavior, releasing his grip on his hair to instead wrap your large palm around his throbbing shaft and pump him yourself instead.

Grasping at your shorts with one fist to maintain balance, he choked on his own groans, his knees weakening as his body shook against your powerful one. He twisted around in your grip, trying to struggle free from your sneaky fingers, but it was no use.

“Y-Y/N, you f-fucking, ngh! S-Stop that!” He spat half-heartedly, despite the fact that his hips were practically fucking themselves into your deft digits.

You didn’t respond to him verbally, instead giving him another smack on the ass, just to witness his hips jolt and his cock twitch in your palm, drawing a sadistic cackle from your lips.

“What kind of whore gets off on being spanked, huh? You some kind of masochist of somethin’, Micha’?”

He didn’t reply—he couldn’t reply. His vision blurred and his mind went numb from the pleasure of having his rival fist his cock and dominate him completely when he was at his most vulnerable. He looked so pretty like this, with his hues rolled behind his half-lidded lids, his jaw dropped and gaping to release a steady string of moans, a line of drool pooling from his lips while his cheeks flushed a deep red from the humiliation of it all—he was perfect.

His groans grew shrill, and, before you knew it, he was utilizing your body as a rock to stay upright while his legs trembled under him. In an instant, hot, thick ropes of sticky cum spewed from his throbbing shaft and over himself and the shower walls. His body convulsed in your hand as a barrage of obscenities and things you could not make out in German fell from his lips. You laughed at him, cackled at his humiliation, the exact same way he would do to you when he would knock you down.

You didn’t stop there. You continued to pump his cock until he was well into overstimulation and fighting to escape your grasp. He eventually triumphed over you with a forceful shove, sending you reeling a few paces behind him as his weakness caused him to fall to the ground. There on his knees, he gazed up at you, his lips parted and panting, his semi-hard cock twitching languidly against his thigh, his pupils blown wide. He was a beautiful wreck, and it was all your fault.

“Yeah, nah.” You huffed, observing how his unfocused eyes suddenly widened and his lips drew in a sharp gasp as he watched you reach into your shorts with a near-feral grin on your face.

“I’m not finished with you, yet.”

RYUSEI SHIDOU

You know what happens when you feed a gremlin after midnight? That was Ryusei, except every day and 24/7. So much so that he was frequently a well-deserved victim of Blue Lock’s “Anti-Riot” electric shock. Today was one of those instances where, once again, Ryusei and Rin couldn’t see eye-to-eye on the field, leading to the two getting into a physical altercation initiated by the former. This time, they both were electrocuted, but instead of having additional staff handle Ryusei, you effortlessly scooped the male up and over your shoulder, walking off of the practice field with him. No one else on PXG dared to question it, not even Julian Loki, who just watched on with a heavy sigh and a shake of his head.

You made your way to the locker room, kicking the door open with your foot before setting Ryusei’s semi-conscious and lethargic form down on one of the benches against a set of lockers. Picking up a stray water bottle, you aimed the nozzle at your boyfriend before squeezing mercilessly, allowing a continuous spray of water to pelt against the blonde’s face. He gasped and spluttered as he awoke with a start, using his coughs to try and resist your water assault.

“Y/N?! W-What the hell is your problem? Cut that shit out!” He all but snarled at you, spitting some of the water out of his mouth.

Releasing your grip on the bottle, you stared at him impassively, thoroughly unamused by both his behavior and his language. Using the collar of his shirt to wipe his face, Ryusei took a moment to get his bearings and realized that the two of you were in the locker room and not on the field.

“. . . What happe—”

“You know exactly what the fuck happened, Ryusei.” Your sharp tone cut him off, your eyes narrowing on his now-widened fuschia ones. He looked a bit taken aback by your tone, but as he took in your demeanor and the way you were sitting with your elbows on your knees while glowering at him through your lashes, he understood that you were pissed at him.

“We talked about this, Ryu. It doesn’t matter how pissed off you get, you can’t just start swinging on your teammates whenever they annoy you!” You berated him, standing up now as you threaded your hands through your hair in exasperation.

All the while, your boyfriend sat there, scratching at his ear with his pinky and blowing off the excess nonchalantly as though you were boring him.

“Jeez, this is why you brought me here? You’re starting to sound like my old man.”

You paused, hands dropping by your sides as you felt a vein pulsating just above your eyebrow.

Is he serious right now?

Ryusei stood up abruptly, thrusting his hands into his pockets and assuming his usual slouching stance. His lips were pulled into a frown, and his expression was uninterested, as if he couldn’t care less about what you were saying right now.

Taking a step closer to you, he would say, “Y’know, lecturing me isn’t going to do either of us any good, babe. I’m going to continue to do my own thing, and you’re going to continue doing yours. There is no need to waste any of our breaths.” A sly, joker-like grin formed on his face, a hand leaving his pocket to rise to your face, rudely flicking a strand of hair above your eye, “Kapeesh?”

You were silent, fists balled by your sides, as you resisted the urge to strangle the forward where he stood. Taking your silence as compliance, Ryusei rolled his eyes and began to stroll out of the locker room, done with the conversation. That is, if you had not prevented his departure by lunging your fist forward and balling up the back of his shirt from behind. On instinct, the blonde whipped around with the intention of landing one of his infamous kicks on the side of your head, which you easily countered by grabbing the front of his shirt in one hand and his face in the other and slammed him down onto the floor.

Like a hyena trapped in a poacher's net, he struggled fiercely beneath you, hissing, spitting, biting, and snarling at you. But you persisted in your silence, pressing harder with your hand on his jaw until you were forcefully smushing his cheek against the ground, forcing him to finally submit under your brute strength. The two of you lay there for a while, Ryusei panting heavily beneath you and you glowering him down with every inch of your being, before it was you who broke the silence.

“I’m sick of your shit, Ryusei.” For emphasis, you pressed down harder on his face, relishing in the whimper that emitted from his lips while you did so. “Talking about how I ‘sound like your old man’, well, maybe I should act like him and knock some fuckin’ sense into you, huh?”

Ryusei’s eyes flashed for a brief moment, full of indignation and trepidation, but you were unyielding.

“ . . . Do it, pus—”

You didn’t hesitate to give him a quick pop on the mouth to shut him up, much to his astonishment. Before he could react, you captured fistfuls of his spiked locks in your hand, dragging him over to the benches until you could sit down and lug your 185cm boyfriend over your muscular thighs. As the reality of the situation began to settle in on him, he immediately began to struggle as a slew of curses spat from his scowling brims. However, you quickly subdued him by pinning the wrist that was farthest from you behind his back and your own leg over the back of his calves, preventing him from moving anywhere.

“Y-Y/N, you can’t be serious!”

And you were. Without a word to him, your dominant hand rose into the air before delivering a swift swat to his rear. You didn’t hold back either, knowing that with his blue lock body suit and practice uniform on, the blow was well-cushioned. Ryusei lurched on your lap, his free hand dragging his blunt nails against the bench with a startled cry. His jaw clenched, extending his free arm as far as it could go before bringing it back unforgivingly to jab it into your side.

“Let me go, you fucking sadistic bastard!”

Sadistic, huh? You seized the top of his shorts and the bottom of his bodysuit in one swift motion, yanking them down his toned thighs to expose his equally caramlized cheeks. You struck his cheeks with a series of enraged blows, striking each one with a hard spank from your thick, callused hands. In an instant, his ass was turning a vivid red, and instead of attempting to resist you, he was concentrating on preparing for each of your relentless blows. However, your pace was unpredictable. Some swats were fast and in rapid succession of the latter, while others were slow and calculated, almost as though you were trying to soothe the skin in between hits. It was abundantly evident that you were trying to teach him a lesson and venting your anger toward him. Aside from the occasional grunt or whimper from your now-silent boyfriend, this was the quietest you had heard him all week.

You gave your boyfriend a moment of respite, making sure he had not fainted on your lap. You massaged his sore ass in your palm while releasing his limp arm to grab his hair and pull his head back so you could look him in the eye.

Ryusei's normally keen eyes were now unfocused and brimming with tears, rolling into the back of his head; his cheeks were flushed a fierce red, smeared with the few tears that had escaped his eyes; and his pink lips were parted, gasping as strands of crystalline drool pooled over his bottom lip.

You had ruined him.

“Oh, Ryusei. . .” You cooed mockingly, bringing both of your hands to his face to cup his cheeks gently. As you gently shook his face back and forth to get him to focus on you, he sank to his knees between your thighs. “C’mon, pretty boy. Stay w’me.”

It took a moment, but you could finally see the life resorting in his fuschia hues, just as you felt something sticky on your calf. Glancing past the ruined face of your boyfriend, you discovered that his slender cock was hard and pulsating, its red tip drooling with pre as it adhered to your leg and soaked a tiny puddle in the material of your bodysuit. Poor mutt. He had been so turned on by this that he nearly came right into your lap, and you hadn’t even realized it.

Then it hit you. That’s why he had gone quiet—not because he was focusing on prepping himself for your swats, but because he was focusing on trying not to cum.

“Aren’t you just pathetic, Ryu? Nuthin’ more than a dumb painslut who only thinks about fighting and getting a nut off.”

His brows furrowed from your degrading words, but he couldn’t help the way his cock jumped against your calf from having you be so, so mean to him.

“You wanna get off? Wanna cum all over your pretty self, hm?”

He gave a desperate nod, babbling out whatever few unintelligible words his stupid mind could manage, but they seemed to be in needy plea to cum. With a maniacal smile on your face, you violently wrenched your partner away from you while he looked up at you with those wide, desire-filled eyes.

“Y-Yes, fuck. Y/N please. .”

You silently moved your leg between his knees, pressing the top of your cleats against his balls, observing as he practically doubled-over your leg with a high-pitched whine, his cheek pressed against your knee as his arms wrapped around your calf. Already, his thighs were quivering around your foot as he tried not to cum right then and there from the stimulation.

“Fuck yourself on my shoe, Ryusei.” You demanded, watching as he gawked at you incredulously, but your expression was unchanging. “You wanna cum, don’t you?” You quipped, folding your arms over your chest and quirking an eyebrow at him, to which he nodded desperately once more. “Then hump my leg like the dirty mutt you are.”

With a muffled groan, he did as you demanded of him, albeit with a slight bit of hesitation. He made sure he was situated well enough, the underside of his cock pressed up against your laces as he gave a few testing thrusts of his hips, each one brushing against your shin every time. He gradually increased his speed before descending into complete degeneracy. Desperate to chase his release that had been building over time, he was fucking himself against your leg while huffing, panting, grunting, and groaning. Your partner, possessed by his untamed desire, was drooling over your thigh while you watched from above. Your own cock twitched in your shorts as you admired the already fucked-out and near pornographic expression on his face.

Aiding the little masochist further, you leaned over him to place yet another swat against his reddened ass, causing a cry of pleasure and pain to emit from his lips and his hips to sputter against you.

“You like being spanked like this, don’t you, painslut?” You growled into his ear, causing a high-pitched whine to sound from his drooling brims.

“Y-Yes! Yes! Hit me more! Ngh, p-please, Daddy!”

You hissed, your cock straining against the tight confines of the bodysuit you were trapped in, but you did not touch yourself just yet. This was about Ryusei, not you, after all.

“Yeah? Gonna make a mess over Daddy’s leg? Gonna cum all over his cleats? Hm, baby?”

“Hah, sh-shit! Yes, yes, yes! I-I’m gonna—mm’fuck~! C-Cum!”

A sadistic grin arose on your features, swatting another well-placed smack on his ass before leaning back on the bench, glowering down at Ryusei from over your nose. His fucked-out gaze could barely meet your own as the movement of his hips grew sloppy and his thighs quivered around your leg from the way you looked at him. He huffed, panting and drooling against your thigh as a slew of curses escaped his lips—he was close.

However, before he could enjoy the sweet, sweet euphoria of finally reaching his high, your hand threaded itself into his locks, peeled him off of you, and pushed him back into an opposing bench behind him. Ryusei gawked at you, utterly dumbfounded, as he slouched back against the bench, processing what had just happened. His cock, which was an angry red and throbbing, twitched against his thigh, thoroughly messy with pre. It took a moment, but his surprise soon gave way to frustration, and his face twisted with rage. Did you really just deny him?

“Y-Y/N, what the fu—”

“—Did you seriously think that you deserved to cum after the shit you pulled both on the field and in here, huh, Ryusei? Oh, don’t tell me you forgot that this was a punishment, babe.”

At your faux pout and mocking tone, he went silent, his face burning with indignation as his lips pressed themselves into a thin line. His eyes, despite being clouded by desire, had the faintest hints of vexation and desperation in them, which you picked up on. You rose to your feet, laughing at Ryusei's angrily pleading gaze, still desperate for his release but enraged that you refused to give it to him.

You bent over at the waist, grabbing his jaw in your palm, forcing your heated gazes to meet.

“Clean yourself up and get your ass back on that field, Ryu—and don’t you dare touch yourself, got it?”

Ryusei did not say anything in response; he just stared at you with that same disgruntled expression on his pretty face. Before long, he nodded, albeit not without the faintest of pouts appearing on his lips as he did so. You leaned in and gave his disheveled brims a quick peck before straightening up once more.

“Good. Now, hurry up,” You ordered as you began to make your way out of the locker room, however, not without casting a salacious stare over your shoulder in his direction. He was watching you go with his fists balled at his sides, his eyes begging for you to come back and let you finish. You didn’t.

“Don’t you worry your pretty lil’ head, Ryu. I’m dealing with you once practice is over.”

#blue lock #blue lock smut #bllk smut #bllk imagines #ryusei shidou #michael kaiser #michael kaiser smut #shidou smut #ryusei shidou smut #blue lock x male reader #bllk x male reader #i suck at writing endings pls god dont perceive me #vampiiebitez #blue lock imagines #blue lock x reader

650 notes · View notes

oukabarsburgblr · 19 hours

Text

Accidental Kidnapping [Reverse Trope AU]

FEATURING : CANDID MALE (OC) x male reader

How often does one check their car boot? No statistics for that but the same goes for our dearest (m/n) and maybe he should've opened it before driving home, unintentionally bringing an unwilling high-rank mafioso who thought the end of his life was in the trunk of your car.

reverse trope list (at the bottom), dubcon (on ocs end), con at the end, face riding, shitty inaccurate mafia depiction (i tried) profile

Find out more under the cut!

"Damn it! These guys aren't letting up-"

A bullet shot through the wooden pillar, effectively penetrating the man's head hiding behind it. Shouts and yelling of commands could barely be heard above the rain of gunfire at the entrance of the building.

Unfazed by the death of his associate, an individual crouched beside the waist-level brick wall. Strands of red hair that were loose from his hair bun tickled the nape of his neck, his sharp hazel eyes flickered before throwing a tantō behind him, killing a figure who tried to sneak up on him.

Half of his attire, premium Dolce suit, was drenched in blood, most of it didn't belong to him. His right heavily scarred hand gripping his sword's scabbath, his most famed weapon of choice.

Aito Sousuke.

Capo and a close associate to the underboss of a reknowned criminal organization. His dearest uncle, the caporegime, ordered him to settle a dispute and investigate a scheme their rival gang had carried out on the borders of their territory.

As soon as they had arrived to the building, a shootout occurred. And Sousuke's members retaliated with their own militia. Ultimately, they overpowered the mutts that creeped in on their area.

The redhead stepped over the pile of bodies, the building had an underground lab, his hand brushing over the white packets of powders on the metal table. Drug trafficking? That wasn't new to Sousuke. Did they lack clients in their own protectorate?

As his minions was sweeping out the rooms, one of them yelled in alarm, alerting Sousuke.

"Suicide bomber!"

Flashes of white struck his eyes as Sousuke was propelled to the floor by the explosions around the lab. It was an attempt to cover their tracks, getting rid of evidence in case of a blowout.

"Motherfuckers..."

Sousuke cussed, seeing his body was layered with the white powder that had torn and splattered all over him. Immediately, he threw his jacket off and abandoned the lab, the drugs effects were unknown so he didn't know how much of a danger he was in. He grabbed a piece of document his eyes laid on before abandoning the lab and his screaming minions.

Passing through the alleys, he attempted to make his way back to a safe place, their commute was jacked with bullet holes and Sousuke could feel his body slowly shaking and his legs becoming more heavy.

Reaching the end of the alley, he yelped when he tripped on the curb, his body now suddenly weak as he fell into a carboot that had been conveniently opened and it was closed shut.

"WHAT THE FUCK!"

Sousuke yelled out, banging on the cover of the hood, his surroundings now cramped with metal tools, making him panic even more with his arms suddenly growing limp.

"FUCKING LET ME OUT BEFORE I BLAST YOUR FACE OFF-"

A certain (h/c) hummed to the song he was listening on his headphones, the music blasting shielding your hearing senses, rendering himself unaware of the mafioso he had accidentally locked in the trunk of his car.

(m/n) (l/n) had just finished doing his shopping in a hardware store, buying screws, hammers, etc. to finish his mini renovation of his house. He lived in the suburbs so he had to travel quite far to reach the store. Blissful ignorance had coated him as he hopped inside his car and drove, unknown of the scared redhead in his carboot.

"Shit shit shit-" Sousuke cussed, trying to reach for his phone, he screamed in frustration having losing it in the shootout moments before. Backup is probably focusing on the target building and no one knows where he is currently. How the hell did this fucker got me?

Sousuke thought this guy was ballsy for targeting him, the culprit had to have planned this meticulously if they had managed to kidnap him out of all people.

"What should I have for dinner..." (m/n) hummed, blasting his radio as he turned his corners recklessly. The redhead shouted, his scabbard digging into his side, the side effects of the unknown drug was getting to him. His face getting hot and his body pulsing.

Finally arriving to his house, Sousuke thought it was a second location for torturing-, (m/n) exited his car, slamming his door as he took out a bag of groceries he had purchased as well. He entered his house, almost forgetting his items in the trunk as he left the door open and skipping to back to his car.

"I think tempura with udon should do nicely- WHO THE HELL ARE YOU??!!"

(m/n) screamed, stepping back seeing a redhead inside of his carboot. "HUH?? I SHOULD BE ASKING YOU THAT- WHO DO YOU WORK FOR AND WHAT DO YOU WANT WITH ME?!" The redhead screamed back at him, disorderedly searching for something inside of his drenched vest.

Is that blood- (m/n) panicked and reached for his phone to call the cops but the click of a gun stopped his movements as the bloodied stranger aimed the muzzle at him. "No cops." He hissed out, clenching his side.

The (h/c) stared at the muzzle, raising his hands. "...No cops." He repeated after the redhead. "Who are you?" "I-I'm nobody! Literally I have no idea who you are!" "You kidnapped me." Hazel eyes glared hard at him, his messy red hair now loose from his bun and his figure sitting up in the carboot.

"I didn't kidnap you?? YOU SNEAKED INTO MY TRUNK!" The average person would never have the balls to scream at a gun-holding bloodied person but (m/n) was flustered at the accusation of being a kidnapper albeit him only doing his errands.

Sousuke scanned the area, his breath heaving deeper and it was obvious he was far from his gang's territory. Either he was in the rival's or a civvie. He studied the (h/c), who was only wearing some long-sleeved shirt and slacks. This guy really tried to pretend he was normal-

"Fuckk-" He moaned in pain, the throbbing in his side worsening and the burn in his head increasing. Sousuke looked to the side and saw the open door of the suburban building. "That's your hideout?"

"Hideout-? YOU MEAN MY FUCKING HOUSE??" "Shut up. I need it. Help me inside." "And why would I do that?!" (m/n) yelled exasperated, his arms tired for holding it up for so long. Sousuke frowned. "You're willing to let your captive die? And here's this."

The redhead waved the gun in his hand, his finger resting on the trigger. (m/n) contemplated his choices, staring at the glock and the scabbard he just noticed underneath his hand.

Unwillingly, the (h/c) helped the redhead, supporting him as they walked inside his house while he loudly complained about Sousuke staining his shirt with blood and that he wasn't a kidnapper. The redhead was annoyed and was dumbfounded on how someone was casually cursing and yelling at him.

As they stepped in and Sousuke forcefully closing the door shut, he groaned, the weight of the drug crashing down on him as he knocked over a lamp and stumbling in the living room. "That's brand new..." He heard (m/n) whining about his broken lamp.

"I...I need first aid. Now." His head was hot and he feel like he could die at any time, his heart beating irregularly and his legs spasming. "Don't you need a hospital instead-" (m/n) immediately swooped in, holding Sousuke's body up when he suddenly went limp, he just noticed his scorching temperature and his shivering body. "Woah, did you get poisoned or something?"

Hazel met (e/c) as Sousuke weakly gazed at (m/n), his bottom lip quivering, his eyes dazed and his face red. "Poison...?" He suddenly remembered the document he had snatched before escaping the building. "The drugs-" "DRUGS-?!" The redhead numbed out the rest of (m/n)'s words as he hurriedly searched for the paper, crumpled near his scabbard as his blurry eyes tried to scan the words on it.

"Shit shit- hey don't fucking die here!" Sousuke went limp in (m/n)'s hold, the (h/c) unable to hold up his dead weight, laid him on the sofa, Sousuke barely conscious as he was draped out on the furniture.

(m/n) noticed the paper and grabbed it, reading its contents out loud. "-new batch, target audience in the upper-tiered , target victims for sex trafficking??" The (h/c) glanced at the redhead, disgusted. "It's not me, you fucking idiot-" Sousuke coughed as he wiped his face, blood dripping from his nose. (m/n) fastened his reading, seeing the red liquid.

"-registering a small dose can be considered lethal, effects include muscle spasms, heightened senses, drowsiness, nausea, increased libido?? If not treated, symptoms will lead to a HEART ATTACK??!"

The (h/c) clenched the paper in his hands, the stranger had almost half of the effects already. "Are you in the fucking mafia or something-" He paused, remembering the sword and the gun the redhead held which was now on the floor. There's no way.... No way that a mafia member was now in his house, dying on his couch.

Sousuke let out unintelligible noises, something of a groan with saliva mixed as he laid on his side, his face flushed. (m/n) was now desperate to cure him or something, he didn't want to face the consequences of a gang chasing after him thinking he killed their member.

"-no treatment has been developed-" FUCK. "-as the victim must ejaculate to rid of the effects in his bodily system-" HUH? (m/n) reached the end of the paper, crumbling it in frustration, his eyes wide, contemplating whether should he just let the stranger die here in his living room.

Sousuke was convinced he was going to die here. His vision was wet and blurry, tears slipping out and his face was burning so much he felt he was going to melt at any second. He doesn't have any regrets he could come up with at the moment. Only the thought of his father laid in his mind along with his uncle.

Feeling his shirt shifting, he moaned when his pants were pulled down as he struggled to focus his eyesight. "Wuh-?" "Wake up. I'm gonna help you so don't kill me after this." The supposed kidnapper was snapping his fingers in his face, catching his focus. Why does he look embarrassed?

"The drug you took- roofied? I don't know but it's gonna kill you if you let it sit any longer in your system. You have to flush it out before you have a heart attack." "...So do I have to piss it out or what?" Sousuke felt drowsy while giving out half-assed answers. The (h/c) looked exasperated.

"Y-You have to...cum it out?"

Sousuke felt his breath stopped as he squinted his eyes at the (h/c) who looks flustered and waving the document trying to explain himself. "Is this your attempt at molesting me?" "FUCK NO!"

A gasp escaped Sousuke as his bloody nose dripped even more, he coughed out while his chest was heaving. "D- Just do whatever-" He groaned as he clutched his head in pain. "You better not kill me for this." His kidnapper grumbled while shuffling down Sousuke's wide pants, looking away as he tugged his briefs down.

"A-aanh mmff!"

The redhead covered his mouth, surprised at the sudden pleasure when a hand tugged his erect penis and began stroking it with a fast pace. "That fucking hurts-!"

"Just go through with it!" (m/n) yelled, mumbling an apology as he jacked off the redhead slower, he couldn't believe he's touching someone's bare dick, much less a mafia dude, to save his life out of all situations.

If the redhead died here, the police would've questioned how the hell did he end up in his house in the first place along with the drug in his system and a crime organization would've been after him the second that news spilled and who knows who they're in kahoots with.

Hence, why (m/n) decided to assist this stranger danger in masturbating so he could kick him out the second his life isn't threatened by some weird sex drug.

"You're enjoying this a bit too much..." (m/n) mumbled, now gazing at the redhead who was crying and moaning while bucking his hips up every time the (h/c)'s hand squeezed his base, precum dripping down his cock.

The redhead's head was fuzzy, the rush of pleasure coursing through his veins and he tried to keep his moans muffled. Tears slipping out of his eyes even more at the sensual gratification as his 'kidnapper' jacked him off. He felt his body was so sensitive, his thighs trembling and his body twitching.

(m/n) was frowning, sitting on the edge of the couch, trying his best to distract himself as he pumped the- , he just noticed how big it is, -cock in his hand. The moaning redhead on his couch wasn't helping either as he felt arousal strike his pants. His cheeks were hot, the mafioso's expression was a sight to see, his tanned skin red and wet from tears and sweat. Fuck was he always this handsome?

"S-Shit- mmngg ahh!"

He didn't realise how close he was to the redhead until the redhead came, semen spurting from his cock and few bits landed on his face. (m/n) stroked him for a while longer, letting him ride out his orgasm as he wiped his face clean.

Sousuke's body trembled, better than earlier when he was shaking almost like convulsing, his mind blank as he felt his legs slack. A blanket draped over his bottom half as the 'kidnapper' walked over to him, crouching near his face.

"Your temperature seems better. Guess it really did work." Wiping the redhead's face with a wet rag, picking off the blood near his nose as he pressed another cloth on his neck, cooling it down manually. (m/n) flinched when the redhead leaned into his touch who was enjoying the cool, he shyed away as he continued to wipe down the stranger.

Is this considered aftercare?

He wondered as he took the first aid kit and placed it on the coffee table in front of the redhead. "Take this and get out of here."

Sousuke only blinked up at him, now drowsy as he closed his eyes shut, forgetting all the dangers of sleeping in his 'kidnapper's' home as he fell into a slumber. His body was now relaxed, only a few bruises from the gunfight and his scabbard jammed into his side earlier.

"Remember- I HELPED YOU!" (m/n) screamed into the sleeping man's ear as he went to wash his hands in his sink, scrubbing it ferverently. He did his chores, closing his carboot which was left open the entire time, and tried to scrub out blood on his rug and furniture the redhead had left behind.

He might need to get a whole new sofa, the previously pristine furniture now stained with red and possibly baby batter.

(m/n) tried to put trust that the stranger would leave as soon as he woke up, believing at the fact that there was a misunderstanding where he thought the (h/c) tried to kidnap him so it makes sense that he would want to leave right? After he had oh so graciously saved his life?

His words were true when a couple of hours later, he heard his front door open and closed while he had barricaded himself in his bedroom with a baseball bat while reading through a novel, waiting for the stranger to leave.

Images of the redhead moaning and crying still lingered in his mind as it fueled his shameful arousal, (m/n) cussing on why someone who was possibly dangerous had to be so handsome.

"How are you, my nephew?"

A tall man, with short slicked back red hair clasped the shoulder of his supposed nephew who bore a similar colour in their tresses only Sousuke's were longer and was left to drape on his clothed back.

"I feel better now, sir. I thank you for your concern." Sousuke had been recovering at his uncle's estate, who was his caporegime, aka his boss, who was worried hearing his own flesh and blood had gone off the radar for a whole day and finding him injured and flustered at the borders of their territory.

"My assistant found the man you were looking into. Although it's a wonder why you're suddenly interested in him." He gestured to the file on the table besides them. Sousuke picking it up and flipping through the contents. "You did a good job at busting out the rats' lab, albeit our boys received a number on their amount."

Their organization had strict rules in their territory, which was how they maintained their influence over their city. So when rumours flew that drugs that were not in their regulations were being passed out in their district, they suspected it was sabotage. And it was, a new sex drug that was tested on their turf, to be used for malicious deeds. And Sousuke so happened to experienced it face to face.

"Do we have any dirt on him?" Sousuke questioned, skimming through the texts.

"No." The old man puffed a smoke, his expensive suit hugging his body while Sousuke was donning a loose haori. He was the only one who would wear traditional Japanese outfits despite being in a foreign country. It was a tribute to his mother who contributed to his half-Japanese genetics.

"Looks like a civvie. Recently moved to the out of city suburbs after graduating. Parents are clean. Never contacted any of our boys too."

Sousuke glared at the picture, the small photo of a man smiling. His eyes read the name. (m/n) (l/n). So he wasn't really a kidnapper... The redhead ordered for a background check of the (h/c), thinking he was still someone out to kidnap him but let him go for who knows why. Although his footman was confused when he described him in odd details, mentioning a nice body, pretty (e/c) eyes, etc..

It caught the attention of his uncle, so he did it for him.

"Has he done anything to you?"

The old man would kill anyone who would touch a single strand of his boy, his nephew, although they lived dangerous lives and Sousuke had proven himself to become a caporegime, he still looks out for his flesh and blood.

"...No, sir."

The hesitation was clear in Sousuke's voice. So it was a misunderstanding? A coincidence that he had landed in the car trunk and driven off to a secondar location which was (m/n)'s home?

Sousuke couldn't forget his touch. His fingers stroking and jacking off his cock, squeezing his base. He wasn't one to divulge in sexual desires, he was raised that lust was a weakness so for someone like him to experience that, it was a change for him.

(m/n) definitely felt like he was stalked.

A week had passed since that...incident. And he was relieved to find that the mysterious suit-wearing redhead didn't appear in his surroundings, giving him a sense of peace that he lucked out and the mafia was not after his ass.

Until he started noticing a minor detail.

A car was parked two blocks down from his house. He thought it belonged to the neighbours, but he had just noticed it would disappear every time he returned from his errands and would linger whenever he was home. He suspected it was the redhead.

Is he here for revenge? After I jacked him off?

(m/n) groaned into his palm, seeing that the car was still there as he walked up to his porch, carrying a few grocery bags.

Those bags fell to his floor when he caught sight of a man sitting on his furniture, his posture relaxed like he had been waiting for him. "YOU AGAIN?!" He screamed at the redhead.

Said stranger only frowned, crossing his arms, no guns or swords in sight. "If you keep hiding your key under your welcome rug, even a toddler can sneak into your house." (m/n) flinched at his words, as he walked straight past the man to set his bags on the kitchen island, ignoring how he followed him behind.

"You bought a new couch?" The redhead asked, tilting his head. (m/n) noted that he seemed to be a lot less of a screamer when he was sober. "Couldn't get the bloodstains out." He huffed. Or the cum spots as well.

That took a pretty penny out of his pocket. "...I could've paid for it." The (h/c) glanced at him weirdly as he closed his refrigerator door. "No need. I don't want to be associated with you." "You saved my life." "No need to remind me." "It was brave of you to-"

He slapped his hand over the redhead's mouth, his palm brushing against his lips. "I said no need for reminders. Hell, I don't even know your name and what you did. Why did you come here?" The redhead was silent, before gently pushing (m/n)'s hand away.

"The name's Sousuke."

The warm kitchen light complimented him well, (m/n) noticing his heavily scarred hands and his upper lip was nicked. His long red hair, resting on his back, he was wearing a black button up, a grey vest and matching pants.

"I'm here to settle my score."

(m/n) furrowed his eyebrows. "What score?" "My score with you." "I don't want a reward or anything like that. Just leave me alone." Sousuke's grip on his hand tightened. "I assumed the worst from you and was convinced you tried to harm me but instead you saved my life. I am indebted."

"You did fell into my trunk and I didn't notice so I think it's fair." Sousuke frowned at that. It was normal for people like him to repay their debts and he was confused why (m/n) was rejecting him. "Do you know how I work?" "I can guess but like I said, I don't want to be associated."

Sousuke fell silent before he turned around and walked away. "My men will provide protection for you. At least until my debt is repaid." "I don't need it!" "You do. You look weak." "FUCK YOU??"

(m/n) was about to throw a vase at the redhead before said redhead had exited his house, closing his door. He hurriedly went to lock it and screamed in annoyance. Am I going to have more scary people following me now or what?

That's close to what happened. (m/n) noticed that scary men would follow close to him and it would be different people on a different day and they followed him almost everywhere. He caught them blending in the crowd, sipping drinks when he was relaxing at a cafe of pretending to go through the cereal section when he was shopping for the week's restock.

He had enough of it.

"Tell your fucking boss that I don't want his stupid protection!" He confronted one of the man when he slipped into an alleyway to corner him, said man only stayed silent and nodded before (m/n) left him.

The next day, he received a gift. An expensive table lamp that didn't suit the rest of his aesthetic but he remembered that Sousuke did broke one of his lamps. He used it in his bedroom's bedside table instead.

"Can you at least tell me when you're going to sneak into my house?" He scowled, seeing the redhead at his kitchen island, casually flipping through a comic book he owned as he sipped a cup of coffee.

"I see you carry your keys now." "Yeah. So how the hell did you get in?" "Spare." "MOTHERFUCKER-"

A few weeks passed by and this had become his new norm. Sousuke would drop in his house, every few nights or so, claiming that he needed somewhere to stay low even though all he did was lounge in the living room flipping through tv channels.

(m/n) at first was irked by this, threatening to kick him out or call the cops but he got used to it and sometimes would even make extra dinner so the redhead wouldn't finish his.

Sometimes, Sousuke would come in bloodied and that scared (m/n), him remembering who he was dealing with but the demeanour he carried was so different than the man he was supposed to be.

His words were straightforward and tone bland, he only seemed mad when he thought (m/n) was trying to kidnap him and now he was gentle? No, it was more like he was relaxed around the (h/c).

"Do you have a hairtie? I lost mine."

And somehow, (m/n) felt like he has a roommate now, buying stuffs that he thought Sousuke would need them such as more bandages or hairties or claw clips for his long hair. Slowly, he felt like he could call themselves friends with how often the redhead was around him.

Sousuke never brought the whole drug thing after that, not even mentioning it in the slightest and (m/n) was confused. Shouldn't he be mad that someone helped him masturbate when he was drugged? Was this normal for him??

And sometimes in the late nights, (m/n) would think about his twitching hips, his wet crying face and his guttural desperate moans and his large cock- He would get hard at times. Looking away whenever Sousuke gazed at him a bit too long, moving to a different room when he felt that the redhead touched him too casually.

He caught his face flushed a couple times and he didn't know what to make of it, only shoving it deep in the back of his mind. Into the vault it goes.

It was one of those nights, where Sousuke would randomly appear in his house and they would eat dinner together, with civil oddly enough.

"I'm trying to get the heater for my shower working again but I might need to contact my realtor for that since it happened way before I moved here." (m/n) rambled, slurping the noodles he had made as Sousuke wiped the edge of his mouth with his hands.

"Mhm. So what are you going to do next?" He would listen to the (h/c) long conversations, only chipping in an answer or two since he couldn't exactly contribute much to the talk as his life was far from a civvie's. His uncle was beginning to question why the hell did he spent so many time out of their domain.

Sousuke kept telling himself that he wanted to repay his debt, watching over him until he saved the (h/c)'s life in a similar manner to how (m/n) did but truthfully, he wanted to stick around. The peace he had around (m/n) was bliss compared to the havoc he had been born and raised in his crime-filled life.

And he couldn't help but think he was starting to fall for the (h/c), their petty arguments, their meals together was healing his soul. He couldn't help but think to that incident, the sinful pleasure (m/n) had brought him, his hand wrapped around his cock, he tried to recreate it by himself but it could never suffice.

There is the fact that the drug did amped the libido effects but he didn't want anything nor anyone else to do it, except for (m/n). But he didn't know if the (h/c) even desired for him. With his ugly scarred body.

Now here they were, sitting next together on the couches as a movie played in front of them, (m/n) focusing on the screen while Sousuke paid no mind and opted to subtly stare at the (h/c) instead, his eyes lingering on his lips and darting away when he caught sight of his (s/c) skin from the collar line of his shirt.

"F-Fuck, you're so good to me!"

(m/n) quickly grabbed the remote, speeding the movie up when a sex scene appeared. Anything sexual related was heavily avoided by the (h/c) whenever he was around Sousuke.

"Do you...abhor these things?" (m/n) raised an eyebrow at Sousuke's sudden question. "What?" The redhead pointed at the tv. "Action movies?" "Sex." He choked on his saliva, patting his chest as he calmed himself down. "I don't think much of it. Why the hell are you asking me that?"

Sousuke was silent, his hazel eyes not meeting (m/n)'s as he stared at the tv. "I don't...divulge in it. Not as much as the average person do." But every mafia movies always had girls around them. (m/n) wondered, cupping his chin.

"It was my first that I was touched. In this room." (e/c) eyes widened as he turned to the redhead. "That was your first time??" When (m/n) had stroked his dick...that was his first time ever doing so?

"I was taught lust is for the weak." Sousuke turned to (m/n), his face holding a monotone expression although something dark was in his eyes. "...Yet my strength wavers around you."

Heat crawled up his neck as (m/n) covered his mouth with his hand. Is this- a confession?! When he turned around, Sousuke's face was close. So close that their breaths mingled and his red hair was brushing against his face. The redhead's ears were bright red, complimenting his tanned skin.

"I want more." He whispered, his eyes dazed with desire.

(m/n) was stunned, his lips slowly moved to speak. "Are you drunk?" "I'm sober." Sousuke's hand moved to grip his thigh. "And I want you. Please." He spoke in such a low manner as he delved his face into the (m/n)'s shoulders, his breathing hot and heavy.

The (h/c) felt his arousal rise, his face flushed and biting his lower lip. Sousuke's body was heavy on his and he could feel all the muscle lying underneath. "J-Just this once, okay?"

Sousuke slowly pulled back as he gazed into (e/c), his face completely red as he gently pressed his lips onto (m/n)'s.

"Like this?"

A slurping noise struck and (m/n)'s moans followed. "Y-Yeah you can take it in deeper- mmff!" His pants were gone, his bottom bare and Sousuke was taking his cock in his mouth, the latter saying he wanted to try everything out and the second on his list was a blowjob.

Sousuke moved his throat further in, taking more of (m/n)'s dick as he calmly breathed in through his nose. His tongue swiping at the base of the penis, pressing and feeling its veins with his wet muscle, unintentionally applying light pressure which further pleasured the (h/c).

They were on the couch, a hilarious parallel as (m/n) laid on the other end with Sousuke pulling his hips up, pushing his face deep in between his thighs. His mouth sucked (m/n)'s cock, alternating between being gentle and full-on milking his precum, the (h/c) screaming having being so stimulated.

"Aanghh ah ah s-stop! You're so rough- mmff!"

Sousuke pulled himself off with a pop, gazing down at the sweaty (h/c) whose shirt was pushed down, revealing his (s/c) torso. The redhead's nose brushed (m/n)'s thigh and he bit into it, sucking and licking the mark making the (h/c) cry out.

"You good?" (m/n) nodded, taking in deep breaths. "Y-Yeah. Haa haa..." "I want to do one of those numbers." "Numbers?" He hummed. "Was it 127? Or 68?" "You mean a 69?" "Whatever it was I want to try it." The (h/c) readied himself. If this proclaimed virgin really tired him out at his first blowjob, he couldn't imagine him eating his ass out.

"Okay- ah!"

(m/n) was crying, his legs shaking as he tried his best to lick the dick in his face, only able to give the tip a messy kiss before crumbling on Sousuke's torso.

The redhead was having the time of his life, spitting, fingering, thrusting his tongue in (m/n)'s asshole, playing with his puckered hole until the (h/c) began to cry on his cock, choking and gagging saliva all over his penis as he numbly thrusted into (m/n)'s mouth.

"T-Too much mmngghh urgh angh mmn!" He sobbed out, feeling one of Sousuke's knuckles rubbing his rim while the tip of his fingers were pressing against his sensitive walls, trying to find his prostate.

Easily pulling him up, Sousuke pushed (m/n), letting him grip onto his arms for balance as he forced the (h/c) to sit on his face. His nose brushing his ass crack and his tongue massaging his balls. (m/n) tried to raise himself only for his thighs to be pulled back down and gripped tightly as Sousuke ate his ass out.

His butt was dripping with saliva and precum by the time Sousuke released him, he heaved and whimpered while the redhead held him close, wrapping his arms around him and shoving his tongue down his throat, drawing more of those cries that he realised he loves so much.

The (h/c) refused to believe that Sousuke was a virgin. Not with how he pushed his legs up to his chest, his knees touching his shoulders while sloppily fucking him up, pressing his full weight on the (h/c).

Sousuke wanted to see his face while they commit this sin, his face hot as he licked (m/n)'s salty tears, kissing his eyes and nose and he bit his earlobe too.

"S-So good! You're fucking me so good, Sousuke- aanggh!" He cried out, digging his nails in the redhead's clothed shoulder whose hair was now free and framing his face, intensifying the look of pleasure on the redhead.

"I'm glad- aanhh mmng! You're so hot, (m/n). So fucking handsome- hngg ahh!" He praised the (h/c), tears slipping out of his hazel eyes while moaning ardently into the (h/c)'s ear. His hips met (m/n)'s ass at a fast pace, wet squelches filled the living room as the sofa was slowly stained again with disgusting baby batter.

(e/c) eyes rolled to the back of his head as he clenched himself around Sousuke, feeling his orgasm pull through as his cum stained his own stomach and Sousuke's shirt. The redhead came as well, seeing (m/n)'s expression as he defiled the (h/c)'s ass for the third time that night.

Cum dripped out of the rim of his ass, Sousuke pulled out to see the naked (h/c) trembling under him, his cheeks wet with tears, his chin coated with drool and his skin littered with hickies and bitemarks in contrast with himself, Sousuke was still fully clothed except for his exposed crotch as he felt his knees almost buckling from the intense sex they had.

"Y-You're a liar. You're definitely not a dumb v-virgin." (m/n) pointed to Sousuke, his finger shaking while the redhead only hoisted the (h/c) onto his back, intending to carry him upstairs into bed. "I'm not lying." He almost stumbled down the staircase, quickly holding onto the wooden rail as he pulled himself and (m/n) up and recklessly staggered into the master bedroom, crashing onto the lush bed.

His legs were shaking lightly, this was truly his first and overboard was a statement of his performance. Sousuke laid like a starfish on a bed, pulling (m/n) under his armpit while grabbing a duvet and covering them both.

"We'll clean up in the morning. Now sleep." He shushed the (h/c) who was about to retort, immediately succumbing to slumber, not even giving a second to stay awake any longer as the post-sex was as tiring as it is.

(m/n) frowned, adjusting himself under Sousuke's hold, letting himself drift to sleep as well. This might not be the last time he lets Sousuke fuck his body. Who knows, maybe getting involved with a mafioso isn't all that bad.

[END SCENE]

[unedited]

Afterthoughts:

Sousuke a munch frfr

I'm aware of the similarities in Daisuke's and Sousuke's names- ITS RELEVANT TO FUTURE PLOT OK

I'm a PARENT atp for feeding you guys for the past two weeks since i made this acc😭

If i have to write a part 2, i would either write about how m/n got upset and ran away to sulk and smutty sex scene next or just them messing around w the sex drug (some bdsm???) HOHO comment for more ya sluts.

Oh and follow my tag pretty please

#oukabarsburg #aito sousuke #bottom male reader #sub male reader #x bottom male reader #x male reader #male reader #male reader smut #reader smut #oc x male reader #oc x reader #oc x male reader smut #oc x reader smut #male oc #oc smut #Spotify

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konigsblog · 6 months

Text

PLAYTHING Eldricth!König x afab!reader x Tiger!Horangi

WARNINGS: NON-CON/DUB-CON, tentacles, exhibitionism, degradation. tell me if i missed any :3

not proofread, pls correct errors in cmmts !!!

Eldritch!König doesn't like to share, especially when it comes to his most prized possessions.

You mean the most to him, you're his precious mortal to abuse, an outlet to dump a load into whenever he's feeling particularly jealous or aggressive. His cock weeps into you, slowly easing out from your raw and aching hole. You pulse and throb around nothing, babbling and crying for him to stop, for no more, to no avail as you're silenced quickly.

König wants to show how lucky you are, by doing something he was so against. Allowing another creature to take you their way. I mean... You're lucky he's even slightly gentle.

When König leans back, allowing Horangi to take you. Horangi's claws are sharp, with fur on his back resembling a tiger. He's a tiger Hybrid, very rough with his prey. When you're bent over, Horangi wastes no time slipping his hard cock inside. Claws grip your hips tightly, keeping you close to his broad, furry hips as he slowly begins rutting into your wetness.

The sounds your wet slick drive Horangi crazy. The fear in your eyes as his claws dig deeper into your flesh, gripping your hips tightly enough to bruise and mark. “Look at you, Schatz. Are you scared of him?” König lets out a hearty chuckle when you gulp, feeling him ease further inside.

Usually König would stop around halfway, allowing you to take a good amount. Horangi, on the other hand, spares you no mercy. If you want to act like a slut around others, that's how you'll be treated. You cry out, choked sobs leaving your throat as Horangi ploughs into you. Your wet cunt stretched around his thick, girthy size, the size painful against your womb.

“Oh, stop crying, dear. You were practically begging for it...” you wanted to deny it so, so badly... But the more Horangi pumps his big cock into you, the dumber you feel. König's tentacles and cock are going crazy—he never thought this would turn him on. The suckers on his thick and heavy tentacles weep out murky fluids that drip down his chest, while König's wet, stiff dick throbs and twitches at the sight of you like this. Held firmly by the base, he strokes himself to the sight.

Horangi's thrusts are painful and aching, causing your eyes to water. Crimson blood seeps from the scratches made by the Tiger home, leaving you squirming and breathless with each hard thrust he makes with his hips. Your ass burns with each pace, and your cunny drools out sweet juices uncontrollably. You can't help how your body reacts to this pleasure. You truthfully don't want any of it, especially when he ruts into you, letting out a deep growl at the tightening sensation of your pussy walls around his cock.

But Horangi takes your mewls as a need for more. His thrusts become more erratic, effectively silencing you at the rough sensation. König watches you shake and tremble. It would be a lie to say he didn't feel ashamed for enjoying the sight of you being abused, especially like this. But his cock leaked out thick globs of his white cum, dripping down his bare, thick thighs.

“더러운 여자야, 네가 더 원하는 걸 알아.” Horangi makes sure you're aching by the time he's finished leaving one load in your slick cunt. Raw and bleeding, wishing for nothing more but the care of your Eldricth. “Please—hah... König...” you pant, rolling onto your back and covering your bruised sex with your hand for protection.

“Oh, my liebling. Did you finally realise how lucky you are?” König's slides his hard cock inside, already throbbing. Immediately, you jolt, held down by König's wet tentacles, slimy and gooey. The sounds of König's cooes can be heard, but you're too stupid to even think or speak, allowing him to use you in the hopes that you'll feel better.

His thrusts are frantic, turning sloppy as he spurts a thick and bitter load of cum into your sloppy sex. Eyes wet and cheeks raw, blood covering the insides of your thighs.

König made sure you were clinging to him all day in fear of another creature taking advantage of you, after now realising what their intents would be.

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seancekitsch · 7 months

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Can I ask you a Question?: An Adrian Chase x Reader Kinktober fic

here it is! the first fic of kinktober :) all of these are gonna be shorties but smutty

warnings: sex pollen, dub con, rough sex, spitting, slightest degradation,

Heat spreads along your skin as you stare at the wall, a single focused point in the absolutely unremarkable plain wall of the ARGUS issued motel room, and still managing to fail completely at ignoring the other more than warm body in the room. Anger bubbles as you think about how you were shoved in here kicking and screaming in protest. It's not your fault and you should be allowed to sweat this out at home. Why does Chris even have a pheromone helmet to begin with? Why does that one just activate whenever it wants to like a malfunctioning furby? You wish you could have gotten a good punch in before Emilia shoved you in here claiming a needed quarantine, even though as Adrian pointed out, there are air ducts in the room which means nothing is airtight and if you and the air around you is the issue then the whole building is fucked.

Adrian sits beside you staring at the wall the same as you, but he walked in here willingly. He didn’t have to be in here; he doused himself in solidarity with women or some absolute bullshit that you barely heard over the near immediate effects it had on your body and the intense rush of heat towards your abdomen. You wonder if he’s feeling as hot and squirmy as you at this point, he has to be, unless he wasn't actually lying about being unnaturally fast at healing. If you were alone you’d be ripping your clothes off and hoping the sheets are cool, or maybe taking an ice bath and watching the most ick-inducing hallmark movie your can find. But instead you try to wait it out… however long it lasts.

“Hey, can I ask you…?” Adrian trails off mid sentence, god, your scowl must be nastier than you think.

“Ask,” you grit out, teeth bared as you try not to shiver under his gaze. Fuck, he’s so hot. Fucking annoying sometimes, but fucking hot.

“Are you horny?”

What, like he’s going to do something about it? Heat bubbles and pools between your legs in embarrassment, even though the situation is already clear. How you’d like to just snap and ride his face, knocking those cute dorky glasses askew or— fucking shit dude. This is bad. You make the mistake of shifting how you sit.

“I was dosed with pheromones,” you snap back, doing everything in your power to hide the the moan in your voice.

“I know, but is it working?”

You feel yourself clench around nothing, the friction of your tight jeans a blessing and a curse right now. There’s no teasing in his tone, just genuine curiosity. You love that about him, but god does that make this harder.

“Is it working on you?” you sigh, trying to stay as still as possible, trying not to set your own body aflame.

“Oh yeah!” he confirms, “I’ve been rock hard since before they threw us in here.”

“Please don’t give me that mental image,” you snap, and he immediately apologizes profusely, the hint of a frown on the corners of his lips. Shit, you’ve probably upset him and made him think you’re grossed out. He shifts farther away from you and groans at the movement. He’s got it just as bad as you.

“I mean— with everything going on right now, I can’t handle that. Not you,” you try to reassure him.

“Oh! Well that makes perfect sense. I don’t know what I’d do if you said something like, ‘I’m so wet right now’ I’d probably—“

“You know what Adrian? I’ll answer your question. Yes, I’m horny… and you’re not helping the situation.”

“Should I leave?”

You look at him with pinched brows, incredulous.

“Emilia will probably kill you if you try.”

He grumbles something about being able to handle a stupid little bullet.

Your eyes follow up and down his body, tracing and following the dips and bulges of his muscles to where they become obscured by armor, biting your lip to suppress a moan. You know he’s a good fighter, and it probably translates well in the bedroom. Christ, what those biceps could do, those arms wrapped around you and— head out of the gutter, you tell yourself, but it’s too damn hard, and you betray yourself and your mind flashes back to imagining his arms wrapped around you while he takes you from behind. An embarrassing little whimper escapes your lips as another wave of heat floods your core. Damn it.

He flinches at the noise, because of course he heard it, that’s just your luck. His fists clench and unclench, gloves discarded so you can see the whites of his knuckles. He’s holding back, and he’s struggling with it.

“Hey,” he starts, voice much more shaky than before, “What if we—“

“Yes,” you agree without thinking. Whatever it is. Yes. Whatever he wants. However he wants you.

“Wait- Really?” he asks, voice rising in shock as he gets up, and then stumbles, clearly thrown off by his own arousal. Fuck. You lean back onto the bed, humming in pleasure as you do, trying to look as appealing as possible despite the sweat on your brow and the state of your dishevelment, even though judging by the bulge in his pants you don’t need to go through these extra steps. You lay against the sheets and throw your head back, showing off your neck and hoping he’ll sink those pearly whites into the side of your neck.

But then he confuses you by heading towards the bathroom, walking awkwardly.

You pick your head back up, panic shooting through you. Did you get the wrong idea?

“Where are you going?” your voice does nothing to hide your desperation, and maybe you’d be embarrassed if you weren’t so turned on its starting to hurt.

He has the nerve to look at you like you have three heads, that jerk.

“I thought you said yes? I was gonna go jerk off in the bathroom while you do whatever you do best in here?” he hovers in the doorway with odd energy (well, odder than normal) and tilts his chin at you as if its a challenge.

“Where are you going?” your voice does nothing to hide your desperation, and maybe you’d be embarrassed if you weren’t so turned on its starting to hurt.

He has the nerve to look at you like you have three heads, that jerk.

“Oh!” you exclaim a little too loudly, “Oh, I didn’t know thats what I was agreeing to.”

You smile sheepishly as he walks back into the room proper.

“What, did you think I was suggesting we should tear each others clothes off and do things to each other?” he scoffs, and even though his face is flushed he still tries to joke as if he’s functioning like normal. Well, Adrian’s version of normal. Yeah, you totally did, and you misread this. But even his condescending tone has you pressing your thighs together and fills your head with the imagery of it all.

“Well…” you trail off, not really sure where to go from here. You’ve reached an impasse of unbearable arousal, a work colleague, and the distance of about ten feet. Talk about shitting where you eat.

Adrian blinks twice.

“Is what I just said an option?” he asks, his voice rising half an octave, “Because if it totally is, I change my suggestion. I was just trying not to be sexist because I remember you telling me to watch how I talk sometimes about women after I rated the team on how much I’d like to motorboat them and you were on the top of the list.”

Yeah, you remember that night. You slapped the hell out of Adrian right after that.

“Maybe you should come join me on the bed,” you suggest, and he crosses the room as if zapped with a cattle prod.

The bed dips as his knees press into the mattress, and your hand involuntarily reaches out along the sheets closer to his heat to share it.

He flops himself down next to you, grunting as he does so, leaning in close to you, but not touching you. God, you wish he was touching you right now.

“How do you want to do this?” you ask, your lips moving of their own desperate accord.

“Well, this isn’t how I thought I’d woo you,” Adrian admits. Woo you? Was he planning on making a move? Oh, shit. The pressures on now. You don’t exactly have a crush on Adrian but you’d never turn a body like that attached to a genuinely sweet dude like that down.

“But?” you urge him on, placing your hand closest to him on his, making your move known.

“But fuck it,” he shrugs and pulls you in for a rough kiss; a little too much teeth and a little too much tongue but you drink it in, pulling him in closer and gripping at his uniform.

He moans loudly into your mouth, only spurring you on to grab him more, pull him flush against you to soothe the heat inside you. It works, sort of. The heat quells for a moment when you feel his hardness press against you; but it’s only replaced by another heat, an arguably worse one. It’s the need to have him inside you, to let him wreck you, destroy you. He shifts his position to trap you beneath him, rolling you onto your back. He cages you in with his arms and legs, presses his hips into yours harshly, the fire is fed, growing stronger. You want out of these jeans and to pull him into you, want to cover him and yourself in bruises by the end of this. He moves from your lips to your mouth and you gasp, gulping at air as his lips and teeth move to your cheek and your chin and your jaw; he’s sloppy and rushed and feverish in his pace, trying to experience all of you as soon as possible.

“How do you want to do this?” Adrian asks, glasses knocked askew against the side of your face.

“Need you,” you pant, already lightheaded from making out like some novice. He rocks his hips up into your absentmindedly as he continues to press kisses into your jawline, himself desperate for friction. He chuckles.

“Need you too,” Adrian sighs, and picks his head up. You almost want to whine because he isn’t kissing you anymore.

“Do you want Adrian?” he asks, and for a moment you don’t understand, “Or do you want Vigilante?”

Fuck, how do you choose? Aren’t they both just him in some capacity? You don’t exactly know what either entails, but your brain is foggy and slow, needing and yearning and making your body writhe under him instead of thinking clearly.

“I want… fuck,” you interrupt yourself, and he pulls back to kneel on his knees above you. He looks like a god under the cheap fluorescents, the god of fumbling upwards.

“Use your words,” he demands, and you can tell he’s made the choice for you. Fuck yeah.

“I- I want it rough,” you squirm under his gaze, your hands traveling from the sheets to the fly of your jeans, unbuttoning them preemptively. Adrian’s eyes flicker down to your hands and then back up to your face, and he smirks.

“You think you can handle it?” he asks, newfound confidence as he moves one hand down to palm himself through his uniform pants. You nod weakly, licking your bottom lip. He tilts his head as if to shrug and uses his free hand to pull you up by your shoulder.

“Open?” he asks, as you get your arms under you to sit up. You obey immediately, opening your mouth for him and sticking your tongue out obediently. He smiles, before spitting directly into your open mouth. You swallow gladly, and the fire is stoked momentarily, as if having some of him quelled the hunger within.

“Good girl,” he says, pushing you back down into the mattress before his hands begin roaming your body, he pushes up your shirt roughly, his warm hands splaying across bare skin, the expanse of your abdomen. His hips roll into yours again, rougher this time. When his lips capture your own, his teeth sink into your bottom lip. Your hands come up around his neck, fingers tangling themselves in his curls and pulling. He groans against your mouth, biting down. You gasp at the first copper taste of blood.

Adrian’s hands dip lower, finishing the job unzipping your jeans and hastily starting to push them down over the curve of your ass. You help him by pushing your hips up into his, giving him more wiggle room while you can rub yourself against him. He shoves the jeans down to your ankles and then stops.

“Turnin’ you over,” he explains, and pulls your arms away from him. He removes himself from you, but only briefly. Just long enough to maneuver you onto your stomach for him and to pull your panties down to meet where your jeans confine you.

He presses a hot hand to you, coating his fingers where you already soaked through your panties. He hums in appreciation.

“Is this from the pheromones or from Vigilante at work?” he asks, and you groan, this time not from pleasure.

“Ugh, shut the fuck up, Adrian,” you sigh. Of course, it’s a mix of both. The pheromones are actively probably killing you with hormones but Adrian himself is hot even if you haven’t admitted that to him. He responds with a sharp slap to your ass that makes you yelp, loud and actually embarrassing.

“Call me Vigilante,” he tells you, and then you hear the zipper of his pants release.

His full length enters you with no warning, but meets no resistance. You’re so slick and wet from everything, but you’ll let him stroke his ego if it means he keeps himself against you. Adrian wraps his arms around your middle, using it as leverage to slam into you harder; your body a tool to get off, but equally his body a tool to stoke the fires and make you feel real again. But fuck, if you don’t actually love this. This is the way you wish dates fucked you, the harshness and care rolled into one. Adrian’s hand wraps around you, shoved between your body and the mattress to your clit, rubbing in tight circles. Fire ignites more, like a candle to a campfire. Adrian’s weight pushes you into the mattress, one hand pressed to the bare skin of your abdomen and the other between your legs.

“Fuck, Vigilante,” you moan, a particular movement of his middle finger making you buckle even more into the mattress below him.

“That’s it, baby,” he praises, and presses harder. The fire stokes and spikes and calms and crescendos. Adrian’s hips don’t let up, thrusting hard and hateful, trying to break your frame with every move. Adrian will break you, and you’ll probably let him. You’ll probably let him do anything if he makes you come in the next ten seconds.

“Are you only this slutty for me?” Adrian asks, and you nod into the pillow eagerly, whining and leaning harder into his thrusts. At this point, they hurt. It’s to the point he’s bruising your entire ass. Yeah, only for him. It’s not like your dating pool is huge here but it’s also not like you’d let anyone else on the team see you like this, but also Adrian has a certain charm to him.

“I’m gonna- I—“ you pant, and he only speeds up the pace of his fingers and hips.

“That’s right, come for Vigilante,” he coos, and it’s like every fiber of your being releases it’s tension.

You shout, pressing your face into the pillow as you do to avoid any embarrassing terms of endearment towards the man above you. The shaking starts in your core, and the spreads outward. Heat spreads and explodes into almost cold in your toes afterwards. Your limbs go rigid under him.

“That’s it, baby,” he hums, but he holds you through it, his arms holding you in place.

“Fuck!” you shout, and a particularly hard jolt of your nerves punches through you, and Adrian stills behind you. That’s all it took for Adrian to come, and he spills into you, holding you against him and moaning wantonly.

You both breathe deeply as you try to calm down, not at all separating. You center yourself, trying to say some shit you remember from a college yoga course. You can’t see Adrian’s face, but he keeps kissing you business as usual.

“Can we do this again?” Adrian asks, and you think for a moment. He’s a fucking psycho, maybe? but you’ve already fucked him.

“Sure,” you say, you voice still muffled by the pillow.

Why not.

#adrian chase x reader #vigilante x reader

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sunnyhvnny · 1 year

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Hi ! How about yandere HOTD men (Aemond, Jace, Aegon, Daemon) learning their wife take moon tea regularly to not be pregnant with their child ? (and understand why their many attempts at getting her pregnant didn't bring results)

It’s been a minute since I’ve written Yandere!hotd. I also feel like I’ve written something similar to this but for the life of me I can’t find it or remember.

TW: Manipulation, non-con,

Daemon Targaryen

When it comes to his wife, Daemon is an observant man. He knows he is clever already but he prides himself in knowing everything involving his wife. That is how he learned that every morning after a night of coupling, she has a servant bring her moon tea. Daemon knows she didn’t want to marry him and that the only reason they were wed at all was that he wanted her. However, enough time has passed in their marriage for her to come to love him as well.

He gives her only his love and affection. Never does he raise his voice at her or is cruel towards her. He swore to his brother when he agreed to marry her to him, that he would only treat her in an honorable manner. He had upheld his word. That is why he has been sitting on the knowledge of his wife and the moon tea for almost a fortnight, trying to figure out what to do. He didn’t want to rage at her or make her frightened of him. He still wanted her love and truthfully, that was why he wanted her to carry his child.

No, he decided an accusation would be the best. He would make her feel guilty. Feel cornered and then she would stop drinking the moon tea on her own.

When his wife enters their shared chambers, he watches as she doesn’t spare him a glance and doesn’t see what he has sat in front of him on the table. She goes about getting ready for bed and it is only after she walks out from behind the changing screen that she finally looks at her husband. He hasn’t said a word the entire time and that in itself is suspicious. Usually, Daemon would already be pawing at her or ranting about his day.

Daemon sees the exact moment her eyes find the bottle of moon tea and realizes why her husband has been so quiet. He knows she won’t break the silence so he does. He asks her if she is seeing someone else. If she is having an affair and that is why she is drinking the moon tea because surely if she was only taking her husband to bed then there wouldn’t be a need for such a horrid potion.

He knows she hasn’t been with anyone else. He has been keeping his eye on her but his questions have the desired effect. She denies them and rambles about how he is the only man she has ever been intimate with and throughout it all Daemon forces himself to remain silent.

Finally, he asks her why she would take the moon tea if her husband is the only one fucking her. It takes her a minute to find a proper response but he knows the truth. She doesn’t love him and doesn’t want his children. He remembers her saying as much to one of her companions after they wed but she won’t say that to him. Instead, she tries to get sympathy out of him and tells him how frightening it is to have children. How terrifying the idea of it all is and if Daemon were anyone else he probably would have believed her, but he doesn’t.

He stands, then and walks over to her slowly. He takes her in his arms gently and tells her that he will be there for her the entire time. That she will want for nothing and that he will care for her. Then, in the quietest and most gentle voice he can muster, Daemon asks her to give him a child. He asks her to bless their union with a babe of their own and after a few moments, she nods because he knows that she has heard the rumors about him. Knows that if he is already accusing her of cheating on him it is t good and if he were to do it again, she very well could end up forfeiting her life.

He makes her give the bottle of moon tea back to the maester herself and when she comes to bed for the night, he can’t help the victorious smile from spreading across his face as he takes her.

Aegon II Targaryen

Aegon isn’t the smartest or most observant but he pays attention to his wife. He loves her and until this very moment, where he’s holding the cup that is apparently filled with moon tea, he thought she loved him as well. Before they spoke their vows and became one in the sept she had told him how much she loved him and how she wanted a family with him. How it was all she ever wanted.

His wife is a liar and at that thought, he hurls the cup of tea toward her, letting it break against the wall next to his weeping wife. He can barely pay attention as she pleads and begs him to listen to her. She sobs about how she meant every word. How she loves him and does want to carry and give him children.

For once, he is at a loss for words. How his traitorous wife can still stand by what she previously said is beyond him. However, he’s going to hold her to her word this time. It doesn’t take him long to stride across the room and grab her roughly by the hair. He doesn’t care that she whimpers and cries as he shoves her onto the bed and forces himself inside her.

When he is finished and rolls off of her, he wonders if perhaps she was telling the truth. She could have only been afraid to be with child but she swore to him that she’d give him a child that was theirs and to him, that should outweigh her fears.

He lets her rest for a bit before he fucks her again. Usually, he would go slow with his dear wife but he’s angry and has a goal. He doesn’t register when the sun rises or the knock on the door. He sees the servant walk in with their morning tea and food to break their fast. He stills with a shudder and spills himself inside of his wife again and it’s only when he catches his breath that he tells the servant to take the tea away and that if he ever finds out that they are bringing his wife moon tea again, he will personally make sure that no one ever sees them again.

Aemond Targaryen

A maester comes to him and asks him if his wife will continue needing the moon tea he has been making for her. Aemond listens to the babbling fool as he tells him how he would ask his Lady Wife but can’t find her anywhere. She had even told him, he says once it’s clear that the prince won’t say anything, that Aemond was okay with her taking the tea. That they weren’t ready to be parents.

Aemond is furious. Not only because his wife is using him to lie but for drinking that poisonous tea. Mostly, though, he feels deceived. When he and his wife wed he believed that she shared the same sense of duty as he did. Clearly, she was lying to him because if she did she would have been heavy with his child by now. She wouldn’t lie to her Lord Husband in such a way.

Despite the many feelings raging within him, he refuses to show them. Especially to this maester. He prides himself on being smart and calculating so it would do him no good to explode or rage. Instead, he tells the maester, who was stupid enough to come to him, that his wife is no longer in need of his services. That she no longer wants the moon tea and that she will never want it again. There must be something in his voice that makes the other man nervous because he only bobs his head and skitters away.

Aemond doesn’t say anything to his dear wife that night as she rides him. His need to fill her with his child is more prevalent than it has ever been and when he grabs her around the waist and pounds into her until she’s a moaning mess he thinks, somewhat cruelly that she doesn’t deserve to know what he has done. That she will learn her lesson when she learns that she is carrying their child.

The next morning, Aemond watches as she drinks her morning tea which is brought by one of her favorite servants. He knows she thinks she is drinking the moon tea and he can’t stop his cock from hardening knowing that she thinks she’s the one deceiving him.

Jacaerys Velaryon

Jace is angry with himself when he finally realizes the reason why his beloved wife has yet to swell with his child. He has been called naive and gentle his whole life and for the first time, he truly feels naive. He thought it was just taking a while to conceive a child. His beloved had told him that sometimes it takes a while and he believed her.

He doesn’t let her see how upset he is. He doesn’t want her to see his anger or self-pity but something must change. So that night as she is undressing for their nightly lovemaking, Jace does what he does best. He asks her if she loves him. Her answer is quick and when she looks over at her husband she sees his frown that borders on being a pout and his wide eyes filled with hurt. He asks then, why she would take moon tea every time he has given her his seed. Does she not love him enough? Enough to bare him a child? Does she think he’d be a horrible father?

When he looks close to crying she comes to comfort him. She holds him against her naked body and he lets her as she whispers reassurances. ‘Of course, she loves him’ ‘she was scared to be with child’ ‘he would make an excellent father’. After a while of her whispered reassurances, Jace finally pulls back and tries his best to still look broken but hopeful as he asks her if this means she will stop taking the moon tea.

She hesitates at the question but Jace knows he has won. He knows by the end of the night that his seed will take root and she will feel too bad to drink the moon tea to be rid of the potential babe that will eventually start to grow inside of her.

His wife swallows and he doesn’t miss the way she won’t look him in the eye or the paleness that has come over her soft skin as she agrees to stop taking the moon tea. With her agreement, he smiles, truly, and kisses her. She looks relieved to see that he is no longer upset.

That night, Jace makes sure to spill his seed inside his wife as many times as he can before sleep takes him. Towards the end, she’s whimpering about being sore but Jace thinks it’s a small price to pay for lying to him about something so big.

#house of the dragon #hotd #aemond targaryen #aegon ii targaryen #jacaerys velaryon #Jace Velaryon #Daemon Targaryen #aemond targaryen x oc #aemond targaryen x reader #aegon ii targaryen x reader #aegon ii targaryen x oc #daemon targaryen x reader #daemon targaryen x oc #jace velaryon x oc #jace velaryon x reader #yandere!hotd

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theloveinc · 9 months

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kirishima x reader - kiri really, really, REALLY wants a third child.

(warnings: afab + fem reader who is a mom with two bio babies, breeding, slight sense of dubcon but it really is con, slight voyeurism, heavy on the pregnancy, mention of sick baby + baby coming early (all is well tho), son = mister, daughter = missy, abrupt end)

1.5k+ words. enjoy!!

The conversation comes up on a sunny day in Denki’s backyard. His wife and their newest daughter in her lap sunbathing next to you, the baby reaching out for your sleeve every so often as the three of you watch Denki, Kiri and the older children—save for the oldest who claims she’s too big for such things—play in the sprinklers, screaming.

“Have you thought about a third?” Denki’s wife asks, tipping down her sunglasses to send you an inquisitive stare.

“Oh, god, no. Ei and I are done.”

“Really?” she seems surprised. “He’s such a good father, you’d think…”

You shrug, taking a sip of the mango slush that was provided to you when you first arrived. “We were considering it, but mister came so early that the stress of another seemed too much.”

“Ah, I know how that goes all too well. Has Kiri gotten, you know…?” She makes a snipping motion with her fingers.

You snort, the thought almost as implausible as Denki with a son. Doctors have recommended that most heroes remain unaltered, at least to reduce the chances of hormone levels fluctuating unexpectedly and causing changes in prowess… and though that didn’t stop Bakugo five years ago and nothing’s changed about his aggression or fighting style, your husband still uses the warning as an excuse to stay hesitant.

“Oh, hell no. Have you tried talking to him about it? He goes nuts, and the man is stubborn as a bull.”

“Are you guys using condoms, then?”

At that, you can’t help but laugh. Protected sex after what? Nearly ten years of marriage? Kirishima was far from the type even when you first met, if you tried bringing up latex contraception now, he’d practically consider it offensive, or a threat to his masculinity at the very least.

“Pills for now. Surprisingly the side effects have been manageable.”

“Aren’t you worried those might fail?”

Her persistent concern touches you, and how could it not when she and her husband have to wrangle five, blonde, Kaminari daughters from sunset to sundown on the daily… but it’s nothing you don’t think you and Ei couldn’t navigate together if need be.

The youngest starts squirming for you and you offer to take her in your arms, trading your slush to plop her on the warmth of your lap which immediately ceases her cooing.

“Well,” you tickle her baby plump belly, the delighted squeal you get in response making you grin, “I guess an accident wouldn’t be so bad if they turned out like this one.”

Little did you know, Kirishima overheard your little, half-joking declaration. It’s a wonder, given that you’d assumed if the water hadn’t drowned out your voices, the seven screaming children (and Denki) would’ve.

But he catches you the next morning, fresh out of the shower as you stand in the bathroom prepping your skin for the rest of the day.

“I heard,” he leans in behind you, his damp and loose hair reflected in the mirror, “you said you wanted another baby?”

You chuckle, the steamy warmth of his belly pressing into your back almost overwhelming, “I said, accidents happen, my love. I’m perfectly content with the three babies I have now.”

Kirishima pouts, the hands on your hips tightening as they slowly turn you around to face him.

“What if we…?” he starts, but you don’t let him finish.

“Haven’t we talked about this?” you yawn, picking a stray piece of thread off of the damp towel hanging around his shoulders, your other hand running down his bare chest. “I thought we agreed two was enough?”

“I was just thinking, you know, it doesn’t sound so bad now that mister is older and all.”

You wave him off, nudging your way out from between the sink counter and his hips before pressing one quick peck to his cheek.

“Shoo. You’re going to be late for work,” Kirishima doesn’t let you go so easily, his hands lingering and only falling when you’re finally out of reach. “There’s a lunch in the fridge. Don’t get hung up on it, yeah?”

But Kirishima is hung up on it.

He loves being a dad more than anything, feels as though it's one of the many reasons he was placed on this earth, and though he loves you now more than any other time in his life and would love you no matter what happened to your body, he can’t say he wasn’t extremely delighted when you were pregnant... nor that he doesn’t want to see another rounded belly on you again.

Besides, your daughter was so curious about it, so precious and clingy, but she was almost too little to understand what was happening in your belly when you were swollen with your son… that Kirishima really only has a handful of memories of you all together before one baby became two and two babies became children.

And when he spent their babyhood was spent half in a hospital and half with you out of commission, he just can't help but imagine that doing it over with a third would make his whole life complete.

It just makes perfect sense.

It’s couple’s hot yoga the next time it gets brought up, Kirishima helping you hold the warm-up stretches as he ponders the questions out loud.

“Have you thought about it at all?” He whispers, hands pulling your thigh away from your face and into a stretch meant to straighten your hamstrings.

“Thought about what?”

“Baby number three,” he lowers your leg and helps switch you to the other side.

You laugh, disturbing the calm of the heated studio, apologizing to the other couples there softly after. “You seem pretty committed.”

Kirishima nods like a desperate puppy, knowing how he must look in his loose tank top and sweatband, his hair pushed back from his forehead revealing a flush that isn’t yet due to the steam in the room.

“What’s so good about a third, anyway?” you as say as he repositions your leg from straight to bent at the instructors command. “You know how sick mister was. I can’t go through that again.”

“What if you didn’t have to?

You glare, straining your neck to make sure Kiri can get a peak at your angry eyes. “You say that like you know what would happen.”

"I just…” he shrugs, thumb rubbing your ankle. “We missed missy’s toddler years taking care of mister, and by the time he was walking, missy was using full on sentences and demanded that we start treating her like an adult.”

The instructor commands you turn on your side and begin the same stretches that way.

“You were also still recovering from the pregnancy, I had to go back to work… and I want to do it again but with just one this time. Savor the baby years the way we should’ve savored theirs.”

Kirishima lets his palm brush the intersection between your thighs as he keeps your let from falling. Damp and warm with sweat, he can’t help but press his fingers into where your loins hide under your leggings and—

You stick your foot in his face, the other couples amongst the room already shifting. “Up. It’s your turn for stretches.”

“Shit.”

“Ooh, mommy cussed!”

“You didn’t hear that, baby. I’m just—“ you squint at the notification on your device.

“What?” Kirishima asks, holding your daughter in his arms. The tops of her feet are pressing into his belly while they pass a large slice of dripping, red watermelon back and forth. Your son is preoccupied at the coloring table set up in the living room, drawing pictures of semi-naked heroes with enormous hairdos.

“Pharmacy’s out of my birth control. Won’t be in for a few weeks.”

You don’t miss the way Kiri’s eyebrows immediately raise, though you glance back down at your phone to panic-click more buttons in the hopes that he gets the hint.

“What’s that mean, babe?” he asks, feigning innocence about a subject you very well know he’s versed in.

“What do you mean, what’s that mean?”

“I mean, what are we gonna do about that? You know—“

You groan.

“Hush. We’re just gonna pretend I didn’t say that and move on,” you turn on your feet to rush out of the room, calling over your shoulder. “And share the watermelon with mister. I’m calling the doctor.”

“Ooh,” your daughter says again, her sticky hands going to Kiri’s cheeks which are pinched in a funny expression she doesn’t clock, “Daddy’s in trouble!”

But honestly, Kirishima can’t pretend he hadn’t heard what you said… and truly doesn’t know what you were thinking when you suggested that he try. Birth control aside, on it or off it, you were bound to have sex eventually… that was never even the issue.

Though when you bring up condoms to the whiney redhead barely a few days later, he barely manages to open one before accidentally flinging it across the room in trying to see how well it stretches.

“I can’t do this,” Kirishima frowns, sitting back down on the bed after pulling his briefs back on to throw away the slimy piece of latex. He curls an arm back around you to pull you in between his legs, hands moving to grip your waist while he admires the cute black, mom panties you’re wearing that sit over the handles of your hips. “I don’t wanna wear a condom.”

You sigh, your own hands scratching the tops of his shoulders. “You’re not planning on pulling out, either. Are you?”

“No,” he doesn’t even say it shamefully, “I’m not planning on pulling out.”

“And you’re gonna hope that it sticks?”

“Yes,” his eyelids flutter looking up at you. You’re so cute frowning like you’re not gonna let him have his way and then pretend it’s all his fault. An accident. “I’m gonna hope it gets you pregnant.”

That makes you roll your eyes, though it also has you squeezing your legs together.

“You’re such a dog.”

Kirishima nods, but you don’t stop him from slowing pulling your panties down.

“Only for you.”

#kirishima x reader #kirishima #and then u find out it' s identical twins two months later #kirishima's hooting and hollering and you're sitting there like 🙂snip snip time #lol idk #hope this was alright! it came so naturally to me lol #but it still feels a little stunted... or at least the dialogue at the end does #i might edit it but probably not LOL #pregnancy tw #kids tw #caitie post #gen

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blitzyn · 1 year

Text

unintended effect

dottore x m!reader

request : none

Synopsis: Meeting a new stranger at your shrine didn't go as well as you had expected it to.

cw -> non-con, blood and spit as lube, anal sex, public sex, sadist dottore, kitsune reader, crying, tail pulling, face slapping, non-con drug use, choking, yall get caught but dottore doesnt care lol, brief ear pulling, not proofread

wc -> 3.6k

a/n -> i need him so bad omg. anyways super sorry if its shit. spoilers for the end of the aranara quest!

"It's not often I get new visitors."

Dottore instinctively peered up to face the voice, spotting a figure cloaked within the shadows the night offered. He could faintly see the way they curled atop the statue he stood in front of.

"I'm not visiting." He spoke with unhidden confidence.

"So what brings you here, then?" They questioned. Truth be told, finding the shrine was an accident. Although he read about them, he was far too busy with Scaramouche's ascension to "godhood". But he'd amuse you for a while longer.

“I’m simply taking a stroll,” he answered, placing his hands behind his back.

“It is quite the night for a walk, isn’t it?” He could faintly see something swish within the air. "Our village is well known for its night."

That was strange. He would have thought it would be a tourist hotspot for the sunset or sunrise - not the night. There wasn't anything noteworthy that he could see.

"Not here, of course." He could hear the amusement in your voice when you saw him slightly tilt his head in confusion. "I haven’t done anything praiseworthy yet.”

He quietly watched as you jumped down the statue, finally able to see your features. He was a bit surprised to see that you were not a human and had fox attributes. Your five tails swayed behind you, so he was able to surmise that you were around five-hundred years old. He heard about kitsunes before, though the only one currently well-known was the Head Shrine Maiden: Yae Miko in Inazuma.

He must admit, your species mildly fascinated him for a time, although the interest very quickly died out throughout his time in the Akademiya. Now that one was standing before him, that interest may have been rekindled.

"I am the guardian of the village," you spoke, ever graceful in your movements. Though, he did wonder what exactly what you were guarding against. As far as he knew, his agents informed him of the famed Traveler who adventured with the Aranara and defeated something called the “Marana Avatar '' which was the source of all Withering Zones. The only formidable enemies he saw on his journey here were the Fungi that mindlessly hopped around.

“It’s not the most interesting thing in the world, I admit,” you turned around to collect the offerings gathered within the foot of the shrine. “Not much to protect.”

You quietly laughed to yourself. “My mother would have my head if she ever heard me say that.”

“How so?” he questioned, watching as you organized a few things.

“She passed away during the Cataclysm. This village was her pride and found joy in defending it. I was but a kit at the time, so she was mostly on her own while she fought.” You sighed, though you didn’t appear the least bit upset.

It wasn’t a very thrilling tale, but he was able to surmise that you thought so, too.

“Do you enjoy guarding the village against rogue mushrooms?” The way he spoke almost made it seem as if he were genuinely asking, but the small, condescending smile that adorned his face told you that he was teasing your profession.

You laughed. “Oh, Gods’ no. I would very much rather be somewhere else right now.”

“Then why haven’t you left? I don’t see any benefits in staying,” he said. “I’m confident your villagers will be able to defend themselves if the Fungi wander around.”

“The only thing keeping me anchored here are the children that offer me some of their candy every so often,” you explained, motioning to the small basket in your hands. “They look up to me.”

“They want to become avid Fungi hunters when they’re older?” He was beginning to enjoy speaking with you, even if there wasn’t much to talk about. Maybe it’s natural Kitsune charm?

You barked out yet another laugh. “I don’t see why, either. But, hey, free candy.”

Dottore uncovered an opportunity in your words. Various reports submitted to him reveal that children were far more likely to see the Aranara if they stumbled upon a dangerous situation. To ordinary humans, the Fungi posed a threat even to adults (as pathetic as that was), so if he managed to persuade you into leaving, one of the children could maybe encounter one of the fairies. But he was not opposed to taking you away by force, either. He would not let this chance slip by him - not after the majority of his agents stationed in Sumeru failed their mission.

“But other than that, what’s really stopping you?” Pride? A sense of responsibility? “It seems you’re not needed here.”

“Harsh.” You knew he was just saying it as it was. “Realistically? Mora. Ideally? The children.”

He hummed. “I am capable of providing you with sufficient housing and a generous amount of money.”

Your ears visibly perked up at his proposal. “But I do ask that you work for me in return.”

You looked off to the side, seemingly in thought before you looked back at him. “I’m no mercenary.”

“Maybe not, but don’t you crave a change of pace? To finally bask in what the rest of the world has to offer?” You were seriously tempted to accept his suggestion, but the chains of doubt wrapped around your wrists and pulled you back down to reality. You didn’t know if he was lying or not. While you were able to defend yourself just fine if anything were to go wrong, you preferred the safer option of just not letting it happen.

You shook your head in response. “That would be amazing, but I’ll have to decline your offer.”

He was confused. You complain, but you decide to stay? Where was the logic behind your words? Were you tied down by your mother’s legacy, perhaps? Maybe there was something else besides the weak reasons you so confidently spoke of.

A chill ran down your spine as he studied you. You were unable to see the majority of his face with his mask covering the top half of it, but it doesn’t take a genius to tell that he was unhappy with your answer.

While he wasn’t satisfied, he wasn’t left at a loss, either.

“Very well, then,” he said after a time. You smiled at his understanding, before turning on your heels to begin your trek towards the village. He watched your back for a moment before he felt his fingers slightly twitch. He managed to come up with a plan as soon as you declined; inject you with a type of drug that would make you pass out and tie you up in one of his laboratories. Simple, but effective.

He walked in your direction as his hand reached into one of his pockets to grab a syringe already full of the drug. He discreetly uncapped it before lunging towards you to tug your head forward and force the needle into the back of your neck. It was done before you could be given time to really process what just happened, but the sharp sting kept you grounded. You looked back in surprise and pressed onto the injection site in reflex while backing away from the man.

“What did you do?” Your voice was weak in shock, a pit of fear beginning to form within your chest. You heard the rustling of his clothes steadily grow louder, but you simply chalked it up as him on his way back to wherever he came from. He amusedly observed your ears flattening alongside the back of your head and how two of your tails wrapped around your legs while the others curled in a way that reminded him of a fearfully submissive dog.

“I gave you a dose of a simple knock-out drug,” he explained, leisurely striding closer to you. “It was originally for one of those forest fairies, if I ever got the chance to find one. They’re quite difficult to come across so I do hope using it on you is worth my time.”

He hummed and looked away in thought. He had heard they were relatively easy to befriend as long as you helped them out a little, so he hoped one didn’t show up right at this moment. Once he transported you to a well-hidden spot, he could create another drug and use it on a fairy. But he was slightly taken aback when he realized that you were still standing. It should’ve affected you by now.

It clearly had some type of effect on you, judging by the flushed look on your face. You were panting and your legs were trembling, it was a fight in and of itself just trying to keep yourself from falling over. There was a raging inferno within your body, and you felt like you were overheating. An arousing sensation arose in your abdomen. You quickly realized that this was no knock-out drug. At least not to you.

Dottore curiously moved so that he was face-to-face with you. He looked at the syringe in his hand to reconfirm the content that was once in it. He knew there was nothing wrong with it (after all, what use would having an aphrodisiac be?), so it was interesting to see the difference compared to his expected result and the current outcome. Your hands futilely tried to tug down your shirt now that he could see everything clearly since he was so close up, but you accidentally pressed them onto your aching cock, forcing a moan from your lips.

“Hm. This wasn’t what I expected.” He placed a hand on his chin as he began to circle you, inspecting your body. You were the one with the features of a predator, although you certainly felt like prey under his watchful gaze. You continued to display fear, as shown by your ears and tucked tails even though you so desperately tried to hide the lust that effortlessly overpowered your senses. He enjoyed seeing you this way.

He suddenly kicked your knees out from under you, forcing you to kneel as a pained expression briefly overcame your face. You had to hold back a groan when his hand found its way into your hair, fingers tightly curling around the strands to tug you around. He made you look up at him as he dug the sole of his foot onto your sensitive dick. You choked on a moan and ground your nails into his leg, weakly trying to pull him off of you.

“Aren’t you a pathetic little thing?” He pushed his foot harder, relishing in the noises you tried hard to keep from releasing. Shame squeezed your chest, making it difficult to breathe. But your mind was caught in a messy haze of arousal, confusion, anger, and fear. Each of their components only coerced you further into a stupified state, and you soon took the appearance of a babbling slut. You were fleetingly aware of the mortification when you began rutting your hips into the hard surface of his boot – just like the mutt in heat you were – but you’d be lying greatly if you said it didn’t feel relieving.

Your desperation only served to arouse Dottore as he felt his cock harden in his pants. He smiled, memorizing how quickly you were reduced into nothing but teary-eyed and stupid. Lightly palming himself, he thought of all the time he had left to spare. He might as well use some of it now.

You stifled a sob when he removed his foot, grunting when he kicked you onto your back. You were a bit disoriented due to the sudden change in positions, but as the fresh air of the night caressed the burning skin of your legs, an alarm rang through your head. It took you a moment to realize what he was about to do. Out of reflex, you attempted to sit up to try and stop him before he harshly pushed you back down from your chest.

“Fighting it will only make it worse,” he said, lining his cockhead against your asshole after spitting on it. “Relax, will you?”

“Wha–No…No..!”

You raised one of your feet in a last ditch effort to kick him away, but he simply held onto the underside of your knee and hiked it up on his shoulder. You squirmed futilely as he did the same to the other one, keeping you in place with a mating press. Now that he was finally towering over you, he used most of his body weight to force his cock deep into your hole.

Nothing could’ve prepared you for the pure agony that came with it. With his hands occupied with pinning your arms down, he had the audacity to place his lips over yours to silence your scream. You struggled to free yourself from his grasp, though the tense of your body made you tighten around him. He let out a satisfied, shuddering sigh.

It felt like he tore you apart, a burning sensation that originated from your hole reverberated throughout your body, pulsing in rhythmic waves. You hiccuped pathetically as he pulled off of you, taking away some of the strain in your legs. He noticed that the slide out was smoother than he expected, peering down to where the two of you connected. His cock throbbed fervently when he noticed that it was coated in your blood.

You bit your lip hard when he leisurely thrusted back into you. Tears rolled off of the sides of your face as you turned away from him.

A sensation akin to electricity traveled up and down his spine. “Oh, don’t cry yet. We’ve only just begun.”

He finally began his pace, irritating whatever he tore, and using you however he liked. The pain was dizzying. He refused to allow you a moment of respite as he wallowed within your agonized whimpers and grunts, thrusting hard enough to fuck the air out of your lungs. Your lower half was on fire from the tearing, the muscle strain, and the sting when his pelvis slammed against your ass. You didn’t know if you were going to be able to walk after this.

You were terrified to feel the familiar feeling of lust pooling in your gut, mixing in with the burn in your asshole. Though the drug was still hard at work, amplifying your arousal far more than you would’ve liked. Your cock weeped precum, to which Dottore gathered on his fingertips after releasing one of your numb arms.

“Look at how much you want this.” His hand was shaky on account of his relentless thrusts, but despite that, you were given a clear view of your shame. “Perhaps you were made to be my whore instead, hm?”

He groaned. “Instead of staying here for something so… ngh – insignificant. You’ll be much better off as my cum-dumpster ready to serve me at a minute’s notice. Wouldn’t that be wonderful?”

You shook your head, sobbing slurred ‘no’s’ and pleading for something, anything, just not that. He almost couldn’t believe how intensely he’s getting off to such a sight, and he decided, at that moment, that you were going to be his new pet. His good little dog.

He suddenly leaned backwards a bit, avoiding the sloppy attack you made.

Though, he was going to have to train you first.

You were aiming for his neck, so it’s only fair he gets to return the favor, right?

Your eyes widened when you felt his hand wrap around your throat, holding you so tightly your head began to ring almost instantly. You felt like you were going to pass out. You could feel your eyes roll back under your eyelids as drool escaped the corners of your mouth. Everything began to sound muffled when you were suddenly forced back into reality.

Agony shot through your face as your head was abruptly tossed to the side. He had slapped you. Fresh tears cascaded down your cheeks, trying hard to process everything that you were feeling. Pain, pleasure, pain, pleasure… which was it?

You unknowingly shivered when Dottore pulled out of you, but you knew better than to assume he was finished with you. He flipped you onto your stomach, a small smirk present when you didn’t put up a fight. You were far too disoriented to do so. A wince crossed your face when the cold concrete floor touched your cock, although you made no move to adjust yourself.

He placed you on your hands and knees, manipulating your body so easily you could’ve been mistaken for a fuck doll. He pushed the tip of his dick inside your throbbing hole before separating your tails in half, taking three in one hand and two in the other. Your fur may have been thick, but it was nothing a (very) tight squeeze couldn’t handle. Once he found his grip, he yanked you backward as he thrusted forward, a loud slap echoing throughout the forest. The tip of his cock pressed against your prostate, and you couldn’t help but let out your loudest moan of the night.

His pace was as punishing as before, fucking you hard enough to make your ass burn. You tried your hardest to quiet your moans with a bite of your lip and a cover of your hand, but not even that was enough to silence your noises. The ache in your tails prompted you to fuck yourself back on his cock. He let out a small grin, though he decided against commenting on it when he noticed something moving in his peripheral.

It was only a moment later when your ears shot up and swiveled in the figure’s direction, eyes widening when you saw who it was. “G-Go… ah – go home..!”

“Oh, don’t make them leave now, they’ve only just arrived.” You barely registered the firm hand on your thigh. “Let’s give them a show.”

Your back was suddenly pressed up against his chest as the thigh he was holding was held up high enough for the person to see. The new angle allowed him to target your prostate with more accuracy, fanning the uncontrollable flame in your abdomen. You shook your head – to Dottore or the person, not even you were sure of. You weakly held onto his wrist when he reached around your body to jerk you off, digging your nails into his glove.

You tried your hardest to stop yourself from orgasming, you really did, but it persisted twice as intense until you were no longer able to hold it. Your eyes rolled back in ecstasy as cum spurt out of your cock, back arching against him. You could’ve sworn you blacked out for a second. You tightened even further around him as he finally stilled, feeling uncomfortably warm as he came inside you with a deep groan. He held your thigh so tightly you were sure you’d have bruises.

You looked back over to the spot the person was at, but was relieved to know that they no longer stood there. The leg keeping you up burned in exhaustion from holding nearly all of your weight. You trembled due to your overwhelming emotions; shame, arousal, fear, anger, confusion, exhaustion.

You stared ahead, unmoving as he pulled out of you. You rested on your folded legs, head throbbing painfully. You winced when he yanked you to him by your hair, keeping you on your knees as you faced his softening cock.

“Good pets know to clean up their messes,” he said, relaxing his grip on you, but refusing to move his hand elsewhere. You swallowed nervously before reluctantly holding onto the base to place him in your mouth. “Though, bite me, and I’ll do more than just simply tearing out your teeth.”

You nodded. He smiled to himself. Good, he was getting somewhere with you.

An urge to hide away formed in your mind, but you willed it away with the fact that he wasn’t going to let you go. Not unless some miracle saved you. You ran your tongue over his cock, licking away the remnants of his cum and your blood. The salty, metallic taste raised goosebumps all over your body, and you had to stop yourself from throwing up.

Though, just as you got to the head, he suddenly grabbed you by the ears and pulled. You choked and gagged, completely caught off guard. He kept you there, watching amusedly as you drooled and sputtered over his dick. It wasn’t until he could feel your grip on his legs weakening did he allow you to push yourself off of him, coughing hard.

He composed himself while you had your fit, crossing his arms expectantly when you finally caught your breath.

“Hurry and fix your clothes. We’ll head towards the area I’m temporarily staying at where you’ll wait until the ship to Snezhnaya arrives.” You wiped your teary eyes and put the bottom half of your clothes back on. Your legs trembled as you got up, only able to take a few weak steps forward before you fell to your knees.

He sighed and swiftly made his way over to you, grabbing you by the arm to carry you bridle style. Everything hurt now that the entire ordeal was over (at the moment), and you watched with saddened eyes as the statue gradually shrunk the farther away you went. You blinked hard. You didn’t want to fall asleep in his arms, but the feeling was far too strong for you to resist. With a heavy heart, you closed your eyes and let your slumber take you.

cross posted on ao3

#il dottore #genshin impact #male reader insert #x male reader #male reader smut #dottore x male reader #dottore x reader #reader #reader insert #dottore x reader smut #reader smut #genshin impact smut #cw noncon #fox reader #sub reader #bottom reader

2K notes · View notes

yourlocaltrashpandaa · 1 year

Text

living together ~ monkey trio

{macaque, sun wukong, & mk x fem!reader}

++============++

Macaque

macaque started living at your place after the defeat of LBD and it was a weird adjustment for him

he’s not the type for a more domestic life but he loved you and didn’t want to leave you alone all the time

you were happy to have him there but you could tell he was struggling with the adjustment

mostly all the sounds, it irritated his ears

you do live in the city after all and you’re used to the sounds.

to help you got him a pair of noise-canceling headphones

you rarely see macaque without them which you don’t mind

the two of you exchanged small notes to each other

macaque finds it cute especially when you drawing things on the notes

you got blue and purple sticky notes for this

you like things that are color coded, it was one the charms that macaque liked about you

the first couple of days you spent together, macaque won’t sleep in the same bed with you

not that you minded, you loved macaque and respected his space since he’s rarely touchy with you mostly bc he’s not much of fan but also abandonment issues

but one night, you felt him slip into the bed from behind you, his arms wrapped around your waist, his face buried in your neck and his tail was curled around one of your ankles.

he likes your warmth and after that night, he’s gotten clingy with you

clingy to the point where he’s protective, like very protective

you’ve heard him hiss at people before

you started to think that your monkey boyfriend was half-cat

he loves your touch, you’ve heard him purr sometimes when you pet him when the two of you chill on the couch

you love have your emo monkey boyfriend in your home

Sun Wukong

after a lot begging from wukong, you finally gave in and moved in with him on Flower Fruit Mountain

he was a happy monkie and hugged you as soon as you showed up

“Peaches! You made it!”

“Hi, Wukong.”

wukong’s little monkeys were just as happy to see you as your monkey boyfriend

They took turns hugging you 😭

though you had your gripes with living on Flower Fruit Mountain, you found that it was quite peaceful living far away from the crowd city

wukong knew the stress you’ve experienced while living there so he thought if you lived with him you’d be able to get a sense of peace

you really took on a housewife persona which wukong was surprised by

he wanted to you to relax and let him do everything

yet you said otherwise

you like the idea taking care of household stuff also you want to make this monkey your husband

wukong didn’t stop you from doing what you wanted

when you cook, he’d stand behind you with his arms around your waist, his chin resting on your shoulder as his tail wagged behind him

“Thanks for everything, Peaches.”

he’s very flirty and rolls out compliments every so often and you don’t mind, they sometimes make you flustered but you’re so used to wukong’s antics they don’t effect you as much so you flirt back sometimes

It catches him off guard sometimes

sleeping in the same bed was easy for the two of you with you liking to cuddle and wukong being clingy

“I love you, sunshine”

“I love you too, monkey face.”

you and mk have talked about who would move into who’s place

But neither of you could come to an agreement on it

Look you wanted to live with mk yet his apartment seemed too small for the two you yet you lived on the other side of the city, yet your apartment was bigger than mk’s it was a bit inconvenient

After days of rating the pros and cons, the two of you settled on you moving in with mk

pigsy and mk helped you move most of your stuff to mk’s apartment (mostly clothes and other things like that) and your hamster

mk was happy to have you with him

He likes seeing you after a long day, sometimes he even forgets that you live there

an exhausted mk would sometimes stumble through the door, seeing you either on the couch or sitting on the bed in the bedroom, he’d flop down in your lap and rant about his day while you listened as you ran your fingers through his hair

you cook most of the time

you’ve been teaching him how to cook, yes he has blown up the kitchen before

mk did get embarrassed when said you’d like to sleep in the same bad as him

mk.exe has stopped working

you laughed at his reaction, and told him that he didn’t have to agree with it if he didn’t want to

he shook his head rapidly and said he doesn’t mind

he was really tense next to you until the both of you fell asleep and woke up almost on top of each other

you moving in with him was the best thing that happened to mk

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randofics · 6 months

Note

I love your 'bots reacting to you reaching where they can't posts. Would you do one for the 'cons?

Here ya go darlin' hope ya like it!

------------------------------

Starscream

When you first met the con, he had been very xenophobic towards you. He wouldn't touch you, let alone go anywhere near you unless ordered by Megatron, and even then, he'd put up a fuss about it. So when he got shrapnel lodged in his turbine blades and knockout couldn't get it without invasive measures, it was up to none other than you to pry it out. He absolutely dreaded it, but he also couldn't fly without his turbine, so if you had to do it over knockout performing surgery, then so be it.

He transformed hissing in pain as the turbine blades flexed, making the shrapnel cut into them. Using a box as a step stool, you came level with the engine. You spotted the wedged metal and began to reach for it before hesitating. He could easily shred your arm. You'd seen the plane accident documentaries on a binge last year and knew well enough of the tornado force winds engines could produce. There had only been one man you'd heard of to survive being sucked into a military jets engine, and it had been through sheer luck. His vest strap snagged on the metal inside, stopping his body from being sucked further in, but his hand had been effectively shredded by the blades.

Starscream's voice broke you from your dark thoughts. "I'm not going to harm you, fleshy. As much as I'd like to, Megatron gave me direct orders not to."

That was only slightly reassuring, but you steeled yourself and slowly moved your hand forward between the first set of blades. With your wrist pushed between two of the thin blades, you reached for the mangled metal shard slotted through the second set. With your fingers firmly on it, you wiggled it, only making it move slightly. "Do hurry fleshy before I dislodge it with your arm still inside." His voice was slightly pained as you got a better grip on it.

"Going as fast as I can... aha!" You pulled the surprisingly long strip of metal from his blades and extracted your hand swiftly along with it. He let out a sigh of relief and expiramentally spun his blades. "That feels much better. Now I can go finish my work." Without so much as a thank you, he sauntered out however you did get a thanks from knockout.

Megatron

Megs wasn't a fun mech to be around, especially when you were his prisoner. But whenever the chance arose to get in his good graces, you took the opportunity. One day, when he returned to the nemesis after battle and he walked into his quarters, where he was also keeping an eye on you (Those good for nothing bots couldn't be trusted with a pawn like you). The door shut with a hiss locking behind him, and his shoulders relaxed he even let the slight hobble in his walk show, probably having forgotten you were there.

You watched as he sat in his desk chair and spun around to face you in your little cage. Your curiosity getting the better of you made you speak. "Lord Megatron, may I ask why you're injured?"

He let out an angered and frustrated growl, looking away from you. "Your autobot comrades got a few lucky shots on me, and I seem to have something lodged in my plating, most likely from the battle. He felt under one of the plates on his side, wincing slightly at a tender spot. "Was knockout not able to remove it?"

His optics flashed in anger, and he slammed his fist down on the chair arm. "I do not need his help with such a trivial thing! It will dislodge itself eventually." You held up your hands to placate him and just left it at that.

A day later and he came back in with an even worse hobble wincing as he sat in his chair. "You want me to remove that thing for you?... Lord Megatron." He sighed, pushing up off his seat and grabbing hold of your cage. He entered the pass code, and the door creaked open. You hopped out onto the table and motioned for him to show you which plate it was under. He leaned awkwardly over you so you could reach the panel of metal, and gently, you lifted it so you could get a better look.

A small rock (small to him anyway) was lodged in such a way that whenever he walked it ground into some of his finer components. "Ouch, that's probably like me getting a bone splinter in one of my joints. I'm surprised it wasn't bothering you this much yesterday."

"Quit your rambling and remove it, fleshy."

"Ok ok do you have anything I can use to knock it out? I'm not strong enough to pull it out by hand." You could practically hear him roll his optics, but he reached to a shelf above and grabbed a tiny object, dropping it next to you. It just looked like another piece of metal to you, but it was a proper shape and weight. You got back in position and aimed the object at the rock striking it once, then twice without much success. Megatron hissed as he involuntarily shifted and that stubborn piece of rock ground into the metal around it.

The third strike split it in half, and it fell away dropping to the floor far below. He stepped back, testing his flexibility, and you could tell it was still sore but not near as bad as it had been. He looked down at you, motioning for you to go back into your cage he locked the door behind you and had you toss the metal object outside. "Thank you for your cooperation."

"You're welcome, I guess?"

Knockout

Knockout was relatively friendly for a con and not nearly as xenophobic as some of the others could be. In fact, he was quite the opposite in that sense. He's very curious, maybe a little too curious about human anatomy and organ functions. But you could definitely get a few laughs from and with him. Eventually, your curiosity of their anatomy grew as you ran out of things to entertain you.

He was more than happy to explain things to you in the utmost detail. When you mentioned you'd love to get an in person look at a cybertronians inner workings, he happily volunteered for a light viewing. He transformed and popped his hood, revealing an alien, engine-esqe jumble of mirrored components where a normal engine would be. The metal wasn't sparkling like you expected with him, but it wasn't dirty either.

Your eyes sparkled with wonder as you tried to imagine how each piece would work, and without realizing you leaned over, your soft legging covered thighs smooshing against his red finish. Your hands gripped the inside lip of his engine space, letting you get a closer look at a smaller component that caught your eye. As if you were admiring a precious stone, you lightly grazed the edge of the glowing centerpiece's metal covering. Blue light shown through the purpose built air intakes on either side of the cover.

At your touch there, he shook like he'd been hit with an electric shock and slammed his hood shut as you jumped away. Clearing his vocalizer, he spoke with a very unlike him stutter. He also seemed a bit higher pitched than normal. "OK, that's enough of a ha-hands-on look for now. I-I need to return to my work, or Lord Megatron will be angry with me."

Jittery, he got back to work at his computer, leaving you to your own devices and wondering just what exactly that was all about.

"What in cybertron was that!? Their touch was so light, yet it was like I hit a powerline!" Perhaps it had been a bad idea to let you do that.

#fanfic #transformers fanfiction #transformers x reader #transformers prime #headcanon #knockout tfp #starscream tfp #megatron tfp

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offside-the-lines · 4 months

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🥶 A (Kinda Weird) Hockey-ish Ask Game 🥶

Happy new year folks! To kick off 2024, I came up with an ask game mildly inspired by ‘every’ NHL team. Not every question is hockey related. It’s a little different. It’s a little weird. It’s quite fun. Start the year by getting to know your moots.

🦆 If I were to make a summoning circle for you, what food could I summon you with?

🐺 Build a NHL starting line up (3F, 2D, 1G) based on a really weird criteria for comedic effect (e.g. guys with names that sound like Dylan).

🧸 Do you have any object that you like a little too much or can’t seem to get rid of? What is it and why?

⚔️ What is goaltender interference? (Wrong answers only).

🔥 Give me an unpopular opinion on hockey. Preferably Hot Takes (not serious).

🌪️ What’s something that's been on your mind for a long time that you just can’t seem to shake?

❄️ What is your most and least favorite thing about winter?

🏔️ What is an obstacle you have overcome that you are proud of?

💣 Blow it up: pick one NHL team. Change its name, mascot, logo/colors. Tell me why you chose the new elements.

🌟 What are your five favorite things about yourself? Come on, don’t be shy. Give me 5.

🪽 Name a NHL player whom you would: Sacrifice to the Gods, Do Hard Crimes With, and Save the World With.

⛽️ What snacks would you pick up at the gas station for a road trip?

🐀 What is the funniest thing you’ve ever heard a hockey player say?

👑 If you could add an award to the NHL awards, what would it be and who would be its inaugural recipient?

🌲What is a place that gives you a sense of peace?

🔔 Who is an NHL player you are convinced you can best in a physical altercation?

🐯 What movie villain or creature do you think people should love more?

😈 What is your weirdest head canon about an NHL player?

🍹 If I were to make a summoning circle for you, what drink could I summon you with (cocktail or coffee order, alcoholic or nonalcoholic)?

🗽What’s a gift that you didn’t think you wanted but turned out to be useful or great?

🏛️ Here, have a soap box. What is one thing you feel really strongly about that you think everyone should know?

🦧 What cryptid do you think is real? Why? (If you don’t have one, make one up).

🐧 Show me a good rock. (You can also paint me a word picture).

🦈 What type of shark would you be?

🦑 Vampires and werewolves. Give me the pros and cons.

🎶 What would your goal song be and why?

⚡️ Describe yourself like a rainstorm.

🍁 Using a scale of one leaf to five leaves, how much maple syrup do you put on pancakes/waffles/french toast?

🏒What was your first impression of hockey? Why? Has it changed? If so, why?

🎰 What is a gamble/risky decision you have made recently that has paid off?

🦅 For Americans & Non-Americans alike, what’s the most *American* thing you’ve ever done?

✈️ What is a place you long to see?

#so i didn’t actually include the unnamed franchise and used a generalized snowflake emoji #hockey #nhl #ask game #colorado avalanche #dallas stars #new jersey devils #new york islanders #pittsburgh penguins #Seattle kraken #toronto maple leafs #philadelphia flyers #my creations

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gilverrwrites · 3 months

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Castiel NSFW Headcanons

Pairing: Castiel / GN!Reader

Rating: M/18+

Please remember: to give yourself time to rest.

Warning: Very brief mention of non/dub-con. Cas is kinda pervy and I love that for him.

Wants to and will deliver the most excellent and diligent aftercare, but you have to be vocal and specific about it. Communication is good, tell him what you need, and he will do it, everytime.

Actually prefers receiving oral over giving. Don’t get it twisted, he thoroughly enjoys the effect it has on you, and will do it over and over for you, but it’s a sensory thing. There’s just so many particles, and molecules on his tongue, it can be overwhelming.

Incidentally like A++ when it comes to dirty talk. He doesn’t really have a filter so he will have no problem telling you what he likes, how he’s feeling. Will check on you aften.

Does that feel good? Do you enjoy when I touch you like this? You look so beautiful when you cum for me. I love the way you feel around me.

However, until/unless you teach him the slang terms and how to use them, he will refer to most body parts by their anatomical names.

Is a top, but is very open to experimentation. Is happy to and enjoys bottoming/being pegged.

A switch, with predominately dom tendances.

Taking charge comes easily to him, and he can be very impatient/intolerant of having his orders disobeyed. Bratty behavior can be fun for him, if you’re into that sort of thing, but prefers service subs who will do as told and do it well. But does not like to be the boss all the time. He likes it when you top him, especially for slow, sensual sex. If you’re more experienced than him and can show him new positions or foreplay.

On the subject of positions, top 3: Face-off, cowgirl, and seashell.

Art by Emily Schiff-Slater

Will ask/scold you to keep your eyes open and look at him frequently. Really enjoys watching your expressions/reactions, particularly your eyes.

Doesn’t like to restrain you with ropes and the likes, but does like using his body and/or his grace to pin you down and have his way with you.

Let him hold you down, get nice and deep inside, then look up at him with glazed eyes and let out a whimper; he may just cum on the spot.

Can and will go for hours if you let him, stamina is not an issue for him.

Especially for cock-warming. On the rare occasion he has downtime, he will happily spend all day with you on his lap, cock inside you just idly chatting, examining and teasing you as you gradually get more wound up and needy for him.

His wings and the space around their base (in between the shoulder blades) are highly sensitive. Just the brush of your finger is enough to get him riled up.

You have to inform him that it’s found upon to discuss your sex life unprompted with other people. Unless that doesn’t bother you.

Dean: Where the hell were you man?!? We’ve been prayin’! Cas: I heard you. I was busy engaging in coitus with [name]. ____ Sam: Cas I’m trying to explain something here, what is so important on your phone? Cas: [name] has sent me a photograph of their [redacted], I am uncertain of the best way to respond.

Does not particularly like sexting, as he finds it hard to concisely convey his thoughts through text. BUT he does get a thrill out of seeing and having your nudes be so easily accessible and for his eyes only.

Seldom masturbates but does watch a lot of porn. It’s for “research” in “understanding humans”. Totally not for inspiration.

If you suggest making your own DIY porn, he will jump on it. There may be some technical teething issues, but he is determined not to let that stop you. Would film it from the nightstand of something, not POV as he still wants to get lost in the moment and not have to worry about filming you from just the right angle.

Secretly a voyeur. Prior to any sexual/romantic relationship he may have ‘accidentally’ popped up and caught a glimpse (or more) of you, or his other human acquaintances getting their rocks of (be they alone, or with other people). During any relationship he likes watching you touch yourself, sometimes he’ll ask you to let loose and do it however you like, sometimes he prefers a more guided approach. So, telling you, where to touch, how much pressure, if and when you can reach your climax.

And of course, frottage/thigh riding. Watching you grind on him, per instruction, until you cum makes him giddy.

Very much enjoys a good cream pie. Typically, he’s not really into (his own) cum, it’s sticky and messy. But he cannot deny the rush of pride he feels when he see’s his own cum seeping out of you.

Is often commando, it just feels more freeing, and allows for easer access. Yes he could just use his angel mojo, but there’s something more fun and a little sordid about doing it himself, or better yet, having undress him.

Same goes for you. He prefers stripping you by hand. It allows him more time to touch you, to feel your soft skin under his, to tease all the points of you that he knows makes you squirm.

#supernatural imagine #supernatural reader insert #supernatural headcanons #spn headcanon #castiel #castiel x reader #castiel smut #gilverrwrites

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ashersanity · 7 months

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Turning the big, bad bully into a cockwhore

This is my first time writing, so I don’t know what I’m doing. Just a thought I had about Whitney getting humiliated by PC.

Summary : (M!Whitney gets his ass destroyed by defiant, vengeful and sadistic M!PC. Happens in the storage closet and PC is just tired of his shit, deciding to take matters into his own hands.)

Content warning! : (non-con, implied whitney secretly liked it in the end though, pc being a smug ass)

“Apologize.” You huffed between breaths, staring down at your bully that didn’t look so dominant anymore, not in this position where he was face down on the grimy floor with his ass getting a pounding. Sounds of skin slapping against skin resounded in the silent closet, surprisingly no one noticed and bashed the door in to investigate.

“I said, apologize.” You repeated, and Whitney could only swear and groan, his quiet cursing interrupted with squeaks and whines that sounded so unlike him that you wondered if this was some sort of fever dream. But, no, it wasn’t. The clear sign of this being reality was the sensation of your cock getting squeezed each and every time you moved in and out of him. Felt so fucking tight, he might as well be snapping your dick in half.

God, if this wasn’t the most humiliating thing in the world that he had experienced. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. He was supposed to be fucking you, not the other way around. Now you had him pinned down, ass face up in the air while you silently watched as the big, bad bully squealed around your cock. He’d never be able to show his face in public ever again nor face his friends either since they’d all be snickering and passing around the famous video of the blonde getting roughly fucked by his own victim.

“I-I’m gonna f-fuuucking kill you, bitch-“ Whitney promised, his voice lacking it’s usual effect in this vulnerable position. You could only snort at his response, knowing he couldn’t do jack shit since it was already obvious who won. Deciding to be just as petty as he is, your hands found their way to the delinquent’s hips, grasping at the tanned flesh and using it as leverage to fuck him harder.

The pace you had set was brutal and it wasn’t slowing down either, bending down to place your lips against Whitney’s ear. “You’re going to fucking apologize properly to me unless you wanna walk home with my cum between your thighs.”

The bully would’ve flipped you off if it weren’t for the growing heat in his stomach that was starting to form the longer this went on. It was a matter of pride and he had no choice, but to comply, forever hating himself for this.

Through gritted teeth, you could hear a faint moan, but he uttered those words that you had waited for, loud and clear in the dark closet. “F—fuck, f-fucking sorry.” There. He had done it.

“I knew you had it in you, slut.” You said mockingly, the nickname easily rolling down your tongue from having heard it from his own mouth so many times.

That’s really all it took, your words sending Whitney over the edge in an instant as he came on the spot with a loud moan and a curse. Thick ropes of cum came spurting out of his cock, probably the biggest, goddamn load you’ve ever seen him released and it splattered down on the ground. You soon followed after, his convulsions pushing you to your limit and just as you promised; You managed to pull out just in time, hand gripping at your cock in front of his face, shooting semen right on target.

Whitney could only stare up at you in complete and utter shock, too stunned to even say anything along with the scent of cum dripping down his face. Fuck, did he look so pretty when he was a mess and covered in your own seed. You had to push the thought away of going any further since you knew you’d be pushing it.

Didn’t even take one last glance back at him as you walked out of the storage closet like nothing happened, cock still half-hard tucked snugly back into your school shorts with a calm look on your face. Whitney just sat still with the lingering feeling of you in him, pink tongue darting out to lick at the mess on his lips.

#dol #degrees of lewdity #whitney the bully #degrees of lewdity whitney #writing #dol whitney #asher writes

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lambtotheslaughterr · 1 month

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I Burn: Part Five

A Rafe Cameron Mini Series

[THIS STORY WILL CONTAIN THEMES OF NON-CON/DUB-CON, MENTAL-EMOTIONAL-PHYSICAL ABUSE, ETC. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. 18+. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT]

WC: 4.4k

Dividers provided by @firefly-graphics

PART FOUR | MASTERLIST | PART SIX

For the last week you have felt more eyes on you than you would like. And none of them were eyes you wanted. The most daunting ones though were Dr. Mooney’s. He was disappointed in you. He didn’t need to say it, you felt it every time he looked at you. You had let him down. And you hated yourself for it. Hated Rafe even more because of it. You wish Rafe had never come here. It was all his fault, taking advantage of you. But a shameless part of you still wanted him. You worried you wouldn’t be satisfied until you finally did.

Dr. Mooney didn’t address the ‘incident’ until the following morning after catching you two in the quiet room. You & Rafe were removed from each other effectively & placed into your rooms. Doors locked. That rarely happened. But of course, it would happen to you.

The next morning you were to see Dr. Mooney, your routine be damned. Walking to his office that morning was excruciating. The longest walk of shame you had ever done. And once inside his office, you felt suffocated by the tension.

Unlike most times when you entered his office, Dr. Mooney did not greet you with a smile. He was already sitting in his chair across from the couch, one leg propped over the other & his notepad balanced on his knee. You stiffly moved towards the couch.

You wetted your lips, chewing your lower lip as you awaited his scolding.

“_____.” It was the first time he had said your name & it didn’t make you flutter. Instead, you wished you could sink into the couch & disappear from sight. You felt like a child about to get put into time out. That was essentially what happened.

“I want to understand your thoughts about last night.” Dr. Mooney eyed you from above his glasses, his brows crinkled.

There had been no thoughts. You had been influenced, manipulated, taken advantage of. And you said as such. But Dr. Mooney didn’t accept your answer.

“You are a grown woman. Placing blame entirely on Rafe is childish, is it not?” His rebuttal hurt. He had always been on your side; now it felt like he was admonishing you like you were no better than the worst.

“I went into that room alone, Dr. Mooney. I didn’t ask him to follow me.”

“Yes, free-will is a great thing. Something we want to empower our patients here with. Yet, you gave in to your addiction. You did not practice restraint.” He pressed his lips together as he stared hard at you.

You let out a shaky breath, “I tried…”

He frowned then, nodding once. “Unfortunately, it wasn’t enough.”

“We didn’t even have sex. You made sure of that.” You battled though your voice was small.

“And I’m glad I did. You were doing so well, _____. It truly disappoints me that I must make a call to your parents about this.”

“No!” You shot forward at the mention of your parents, “Please Dr. Mooney, don’t. You can’t!”

“I can & I must. It’s our policy that when an incident happens with our patients regarding their recovery process that we inform the parents or guardians. No exceptions.” Dr. Mooney’s voice hardened, having grown quite unimpressed with you.

“Please, please! If you tell them I’ll never get out of here! You heard my dad!” You begged, “He even thinks I’m sleeping with you! He thinks the absolute worst of me. Please, Dr. Mooney. It won’t ever happen again.”

Dr. Mooney’s eyes softened momentarily as he listened to your pleas, but much to your dismay, he shook his head, “I’m sorry, _____, but it’s policy. And I can’t excuse what you got up to last night. Perhaps you should’ve thought about the consequences of your actions before you made the decision to follow through on them.”

Tears slipped down your cheeks. You pulled your knees to your chest, hugging them tightly. You imagined your parents getting the call, learning the news. They left here hearing how well you were doing, an ‘excellent example’ Dr. Mooney had told them about your progress. Now, they would only be let down. Again.

You sniffled, wiping the tears from your eyes harshly as a simmering rage settled within you.

“You’re punishing me.” You whispered, not looking at him.

Dr. Mooney clicked his tongue, “I wish you didn’t view it that way.”

You raised your eyes to glare at him, “You never wanted to help me.”

He stuffed his notepad between his thigh & the arm of the chair, leaning forward to stare at you, “You know that’s not true.”

“Do I?” You questioned, “Because it sure doesn’t feel like it.”

“And I understand that it doesn’t.” He responded, “But I also thought you understood responsibility. It appears we still have much to work on.”

You shook your head in disagreement, glancing at the ground once more, unable to handle the look in his eyes as he looked at you.

“I’m never getting out of here.” You spoke to no one.

Dr. Mooney said nothing.

And so for the next week your sessions with Dr. Mooney were longer, though your conversations were brief. You didn’t trust him. You couldn’t. He had informed you in your second session with him following the incident that he did indeed call your parents. But you had not heard from them. You surmised you likely wouldn’t. You pictured your father not allowing your mother to call, to punish you further.

More so, group sessions were sporadic. Rafe & you had strict rules to not be allowed in the same room for at least a week, so you two took turns attending group therapy, & even got food during breakfast, lunch, & dinner at separate times. You hadn’t seen him all week, not even a peek. Dr. Mooney was taking your separation from each other seriously. So, you were watched like a hawk. Nurse Carney was with you most, if not all, the time. If the facility hadn’t felt like a prison before it sure did now.

But it was Friday now. The weekend was starting. And as much as you still blamed Rafe for what happened, you still longed to see him. At night, you imagined his face, his touch, his voice. It made you feel less alone, & it brought you comfort knowing that he was likely feeling the same you were. You two were opposing forces who couldn’t help but be drawn to each other. Why were you two being punished for that?

The only remotely ‘good’ thing to come out of this separation & prison treatment was that you hadn’t masturbated. You didn’t even have the urge. You were too angry to feel the burn. Dr. Mooney had said it was a good thing that you weren’t acting on your desires, but that it was unfortunate that it was due to negative feelings towards him & the recovery process. But restraint is restraint, he had said. It was the first time you imagined punching him. Desirable thoughts about Dr. Mooney had died quickly.

At this moment, you were dressed comfortably in a pair of shorts & a tank top. It was all your wardrobe really consisted of during your stay here. Your out & about clothes were unfortunately saved for community service days. Which was tomorrow. You wondered if Dr. Mooney would allow you out with your fellow patients, if he would let Rafe go. After all, it had been a week since you saw him, & there was no attempt to try to see him. Seeing him again would be your reward.

You reached Dr. Mooney’s office. The door was closed but you heard muffled voices inside. You couldn’t make out any words but there was a small laugh. It was a woman’s. You felt your skin burning hot, annoyed that whoever was inside was having a positive interaction with Dr. Mooney. That used to be you.

Knocking on the door, you didn’t care if you interrupted. There was the sound of footfalls before the door swung open. Dr. Mooney was dressed casually like he usually did on Friday’s before the weekend. And just behind him you saw Nurse Carney standing by his desk.

“_____ come in.” You kept your arms crossed in front of yourself as you stepped inside, not bothering to hide how you glanced between the two providers.

“Kiera, we’ll finish this later.”

She smiled politely at that, “Of course, Doctor.” She met your eyes in kind & nodded before leaving the two of you.

Dr. Mooney gestured to the couch & you dropped a knee onto it as he got situated in his chair, “My apologies, _____. I lost track of time.”

“What were you two talking about?” You knew you had no place to insert yourself in whatever private conversation they were having but you didn’t care.

“Tomorrow’s community service. I’m going to join in on this one.” The information surprised you. Dr. Mooney never came out on community service days. You had an inkling it was because of you & Rafe. But that meant that you two would indeed be together tomorrow.

“You are?”

“Mhmm.” He gave a closed lip grin, “My wife is going out of town & I figured it’d be a good opportunity to see my patients out in the real world. Take notes about their progress.”

You said nothing but shifted to get more comfortable.

“Okay, so.” He raised his hands lightly before bringing them back down to rest on his thighs, “How are you feeling?”

You shrugged, fingering the hem of your shorts, “Fine.”

“_____.” Dr. Mooney said your name concerningly, “You need to talk to me. I understand that you feel like you were being punished for this last week, but I really implore you to understand it’s for your well-being. You want to get better, don’t you?”

What a stupid fucking question. You nodded silently.

“The separation ends tomorrow. How are you feeling about that?”

Ecstatic. But you wouldn’t say so. You worried if you showed too much excitement towards it that he would extend the separation. “I’m just glad I won’t be treated like a prisoner anymore.”

“You’re not a prisoner. But you are under my care here. And I only separated the two of you to protect you.” Dr. Mooney frowned, “One day you’ll see that.”

“So, if Rafe & I even talk to each other tomorrow, we won’t get in trouble for that?” It wasn’t a silly question. You really needed to know how close you could be with him without getting in trouble for it.

“Of course not, _____. I am not to speak with you about other patient’s progress, but the separation was for you as much as it was for Rafe. You two are in very fragile, vulnerable stages of the recovery process. It’s typical for patients to find comfort or connection in one another, but physical comfort, physical connection is prohibited. Should you two succeed in your stay here & leave the facility, what transpires between the two of you is between the two of you, but our goal here is to have a healthy relationship. And in your case, a healthy relationship with a man is essential.”

“Is Rafe not healthy for me?” You questioned.

“Right now, no.” Dr. Mooney admitted, “And neither are you for him. You two tempt each other. You bring out each other’s recklessness. Recklessness for addicts is, as expected, always troublesome. I care about you, & Rafe, leaving here with the self-empowerment to recognize your respective addictive behaviors & the skills to navigate them in a safe, healthy manner.”

You bit your lip, frowning. You hated that he was making sense. But you were still angry.

“I’m sorry for saying you were punishing me. That you didn’t want to help me.”

Dr. Mooney smiled softly, “I accept your apology. But I am here for you, _____. I only want what is best for you.”

You nodded, “I know. I guess I just have a hard time believing that after everything.”

“Recovery is a tough, tough process. A lot of animosity, blame on others, resentment, anger, deep regret—all of those things make recovery difficult. But I still believe in you.”

For the first time in a week Dr. Mooney made your heart flutter with his praising words.

“Thank you for saying that.”

It was also the first time in a week that you smiled. Even if it was a small one.

Saturday saw you getting excitedly dressed for community service day. Nurse Carney had informed all the patients that today’s outing would be a two hour long drive to the coast for beach clean-up. You groaned at the thought of cleaning up other people’s garbage, but when she had told others to wear beach wear, your disgust quickly transitioned to anticipation. After beach clean-up, patients would be allowed to actually enjoy the beach. A reward for all your hard word & dedication to the recovery process.

So you changed into a navy blue one-piece suit then slipped into a pair of jeans & tugged on a lime green cropped hoodie. Since you were going to the beach, you wore a pair of your favorite sandals, though you knew the second you touched sand you’d be kicking them off. You couldn’t wait to feel the beach under your feet.

In the lobby, you joined the others as Nurse Carney & Dr. Mooney did a head count. You spotted Rafe along the furthest wall, his arms crossed as he stared out the window. He had yet to spot you. Glancing at Dr. Mooney briefly to see if he was curious as to what you were up to, you bravely began walking towards Rafe. But a figure stepped in front of you.

“Sit with me?” It was Albert. His hair was tied into a bun, a few strands hanging loose to kiss his forehead. You stuttered at his sudden request. And before you could even respond, Albert tugged on your arm to lead you outside where the van waited. Guess your reunion with Rafe would have to wait until the beach.

Inside the van, Albert gently pushed you back towards the furthest row before sitting beside you. Siena appeared behind him & sat on his other side. They traded looks that looked as if they were speaking to one another without words. You were about to ask them what the hell they were up to when Rafe appeared next. You let out a pleased exhale, but it was short-lived as he pointedly avoided looking in your direction.

Rafe slid into the second row, sitting directly in front of you, & Renne sat beside him. Then Dr. Mooney got into the passenger seat while Nurse Carney took to the drivers seat. Most everyone was talking jovially about today’s outing, but your elation slowly rotted away as you stared at the back of Rafe’s head. There was palpable energy rolling off him. The whole of the van was filled with laughter, screeches of joy, but where he sat was a dark cloud, & that cloud was beginning to cast over you.

You frowned to yourself. Something was wrong. Though you didn’t know Rafe well, he wasn’t the brooding type. Yet there he was slouched in his seat, staring straight ahead. You narrowed his eyes, willing him to feel the hole you were burning into the back of his head. But he never looked back. Not once.

“You okay?” You inhaled sharply as Albert broke your focus.

“Yeah, sure.” You forced a smile.

But you weren’t. You couldn’t be. Not when Rafe wasn’t.

The beach clean-up had been surprisingly a lot of fun. You contributed the fun of it to the sun & the feel of sand squished between your toes. Dr. Mooney & Nurse Carney kept a loose leash on all of you as you all traversed up & down the beach with stabbers & garbage bags. The clean-up itself lasted only a couple hours & then Nurse Carney called for everyone to join her & Dr. Mooney under a canopy they had set up for making lunch under.

Lunch was styled like a sandwich buffet. Breads, cheeses, meats, veggies, condiments, the whole shebang. You made yourself a simple ham & cheese sandwich & accepted a salad bowl from Nurse Carney that she had made. Then the seven of you ate on towels nearby. You had planned on going to sit with Rafe, but Albert & Siena snatched you up yet again, dragging you over to sit with them.

Though you were enjoying their sudden interest in you, you were mildly annoyed. You hadn’t been near Rafe in a week. All you wanted, more than anything, was just to at least eat with him. Dr. Mooney said it would be okay. And these two were preventing you from doing just that.

But once you were done eating, you were determined to approach Rafe, to spend whatever time left you had on the beach to be near him. After finishing your food, you hurriedly carried your trash back to the canopy. Nurse Carney was gathering up the lunch items & placing them back into a small chest.

“Thanks for lunch.” You told her.

She grinned, her red hair glistening against the beach backdrop, “Of course, I hope it was decent enough.”

You nodded then turned back around. Renee was down by the water in a pair of black shorts & a long sleeve. You rolled your eyes. Only she would be dressed in all black on a day out to the beach. Freak.

To your left, you watched as Albert & Siena dressed down to their respective bathing suits. Albert wore multi-colored board shorts & Siena sported a coral pink tankini. Then you peered around for the object of your desire. A couple yards away, Rafe sat on a beached log. He wore a white tank top & navy blue board shorts. Even from your vantage point you could still sense the cloud hanging over him. And on a beautiful day like this, you were set on parting the cloud hanging over him.

Removing your own hoodie, you placed on top of a nearby towel, followed by your jeans. Then you began walking towards him. It came naturally to you to walk with a little sass in your walk, it was how you often drew the male gaze to yourself, but as you grew closer to Rafe, he never once looked your eyes, even when you knew you were without a doubt in his peripheral. Once you were finally upon him, you gently kicked sand towards him.

“Why the long face?” You teased, choosing to sit on your knees on the sand before him rather than joining him on the log.

Rafe peered at you, his eyes squinting from the sun, “Did you need something?”

His cold tone & choice of words shocked you. You frowned at him, “What’s wrong?”

He chuckled darkly at your question but there was no amusement in it, “What do you want, _____?”

Words evaded you. What was his fucking deal? You were so happy, so so happy to finally be able to talk to him. And this was how he spoke to you after a week of not seeing each other? You expected him to be happier. So, why wasn’t he?

“I don’t know, I just…” His dark cloud was growing bigger. “Sorry. I’ll leave you alone.”

You had just stood up & was about to walk away when a hand shot out & gripped your wrist, “Don’t leave.”

This time he spoke softly. But you couldn’t deal with his bipolar attitude. It was ruining your beach day.

You pulled your wrist from his grasp, not because you didn’t want him touching you—you did—but if Nurse Carney or, god forbid, Dr. Mooney saw, who knew what reparations may come your guys’ way.

Rafe sighed heavily, “I’m sorry. Just a lot on my mind.”

You returned to your knees, nodding in understanding, “Same here. What’s wrong though?”

Rafe shook his head, his tongue poking his lower lip out, “It’s fucking Dr. Mooney.”

At the mention of his name, you glanced over your shoulder back towards the canopy. Nurse Carney was talking animatedly by Dr. Mooney’s side, but his eyes were watching the two of you. You looked away.

“What happened?”

He narrowed his eyes at you, seemingly contemplating whether or not he would tell you, “He doesn’t want me near you.”

You shrugged, “That’s not true, Rafe. He just wants us to get better.”

Rafe scoffed at that, “Is that what he told you?”

“Well, yeah.” You brushed your hair out of your eyes as a light breeze picked up, “Isn’t that what he told you?”

Rafe glared over your shoulder, no doubt aiming it towards the doctor in question. “No. It isn’t.”

The look of malice on his face concerned you, “What did he say then?”

“You wouldn’t believe me.”

You rolled your eyes, “I’m the only one here who would believe you.”

“You sure about that?” Rafe responded in short.

You felt doubt swell in your heart. What could Dr. Mooney possibly have said to upset Rafe?

“He wants you. He doesn’t care about you getting better. And he definitely doesn’t like how close we’ve become.”

His words shocked you. Dr. Mooney?! You stared hard at Rafe, not finding his jest funny, “Bullshit. Why are you lying?”

“See. I knew you wouldn’t believe me.” Rafe stood up, shaking his head, “Whatever. He’s obviously got you wrapped around his finger.”

Scared that Rafe was going to leave you, you rushed forward, grabbing his wrist like he had yours. You didn’t care if Dr. Mooney saw, “No, wait. I’m sorry. I’ll listen.”

Rafe stared down at you. He gently overturned his wrist, catching your hand in his, your fingers briefly tangling before he finally sat back down. You let go of his hand.

“He really said that?” You questioned. You had a hard time believing it, honestly. Dr. Mooney had never shown any interest in you like that. And you believed him when he said he was determined to help you get better. More so, why would he admit that to a patient of his own, that he was essentially going to prevent you from leaving the facility? It didn’t make sense, but you weren’t going to express that.

“He didn’t have to.” Rafe replied, his answer making you frown. “But I know him. Because I am him. He’s threatened by me.”

“No, that’s not—”

“Yes, _____. I see the way he watches you. Think about it. He knows you & your addiction better than anyone else, even yourself. He knows what to say, what to do to get you to listen to whatever he says. Even now, he hasn’t stopped looking at you once since you came over here.”

But that was because of the two of you getting caught. Nothing more. However, you couldn’t deny the burning sensation igniting deep within yourself. Was it true? Was it really true that Dr. Mooney saw you as more than a patient? You were conflicted on how to feel about it. Part of you was pleased, but the other part, disappointed.

“Something Dr. Mooney will never admit is that he’s as much of a man as any of us. He still has carnal wants. And he wants you.” Rafe told you, “And who wouldn’t. Look at you. You know what you do to men. Just because he’s your doctor doesn’t mean he doesn’t look at you like he wants a taste himself.”

His words left you feeling unwell.

“You should’ve seen the way he watched you when you got undressed just now. Probably wondering what else you have going on under there. I mean, he got a peek last week when he interrupted us. He knows you dressed down for me, not him, & it pisses him off. It pisses him off that you want someone other than him.”

You shook your head, “No. We’re at the beach! I wore this for the beach…” But you could hear the doubt in your own argument.

“You say that but we both know.” Rafe chided you, “And so does he. You’re caught in the middle, _____, don’t you see that? Being pulled between two men who want you.”

You were getting too hot, too flustered. You felt dizzy & your stomach lurched. No. Dr. Mooney didn’t want you. He couldn’t. Rafe was just fucking with you again. He had to be. Dr. Mooney was a good man, a good doctor. He cared about you. Rafe didn’t.

Angry, you stood up, glaring down at Rafe, “You’re lying. That’s what you do. You manipulate. Just like how you manipulated me in the quiet room.”

Rafe laughed loudly at that, “I manipulated you? Or were you just desperate for someone to want you?”

“Fuck you.” Your voice broke as tears pierced your vision.

“Well, I would’ve if your precious doctor hadn’t stopped us.” Rafe stood with you, stepping close enough to touch but he didn’t, “You know what I’m talking about. You know when a man wants you. You’re really telling me you haven’t noticed?”

Rafe’s words embedded themselves into your skin.

Not Dr. Mooney. No.

But you weren’t sure. Not anymore.

Rafe sniffed, licking his lips as he stared down the beach, “He may say he cares about you, but he doesn’t. You’ll see for yourself. Just wait.”

“You’re wrong.” Your voice shook.

“Fine.” Rafe caught your chin, forcing you look up at him, “You say that now. But when you see what I’m talking about, don’t come running to me.”

With that, Rafe left you where you stood. You kept your arms wrapped around yourself, uncomfortable. Today was supposed to be a good day. A beach day with Rafe. But now, you wished for nothing more than to be locked within the confines of your room.

Storming towards the canopy, you ignored the concerned looks Nurse Carney & Dr. Mooney were sending you way. Turning your back to them, you slipped back into your cropped hoodie & jeans.

“_____? Are you alright?” Dr. Mooney asked from behind you.

“Fine.” You feigned a smile, “I’m gonna go for a walk.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Dr. Mooney stood to your right. You couldn’t look him in the eye, afraid you’d see what Rafe insisted was there.

“Yes. I’ll be nearby.”

Passing by him, you slipped your shades onto your face to hide the tears that threatened to fall. This beach day could go to hell for all you cared.

part five(:

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